My clothes were out. My iPod was all charged and ready. The alarm went off and I am sorry to report that my first instinct was to hit the snooze button. I should have attacked the day with reckless abandon. I should have been pumped and ready to go, but alas, I just wanted to sleep more. The better part of me prevailed though and I got out of bed before the alarm went off again.
I've been thinking about this for a while now. I have read and reread the C25K plan. My job today was to walk vigorously for 5 minutes and then alternate 60 seconds of running and 90 seconds of walking for the next 25 minutes. So I did a quick warm up and then exited the house to the cold outside, fired up a little Black Eyed Peas and I was off.
Now, I'll say that I felt that this plan was completely reasonable and, to be honest, a very easy start. I'm not saying that these notions of mine were not true, certainly they are reasonable and easy...what I am saying though is that I am EXTREMELY out of shape and found that after a couple of rounds, the 60 seconds seemed excruciatingly long and the 90 seconds mercilessly fast. I did it though and a half hour later I returned to my house winded, sweaty and ready for my shower. I felt proud of myself for taking that first step.
Before I could shower though, there was some business to attend to. A promise I made that had to be kept. I had an appointment with the scale that I could not reschedule. In general, I find that little device to be an evil, spirit breaking presence and I avoid it if at all possible. Even during my pregnancies, in the third trimesters when the appointments got more and more frequent, I would stand on the scale with my back to the numbers because I didn't want to know. I certainly did not want to see that terrible threshold that I mentioned yesterday getting crossed (even if it was because of a healthy baby).
Anyway, I had a number in mind. I knew what I weighed the last time I stepped on the scale and I can't say that I've been good since then. Considering I've also completely ended breast feeding, I anticipated the number to be high. So with a breath, I stepped on and was pleasantly surprised. Not that it's a great number, but not as high as I had imagined.
So without further ramblings, I give you my weight: 181.5 pounds.
I have a lot of work to do. I'll need to make good eating choices if I am going to bring that number down where it needs to be and I will. I am committed to my health. I am dedicated to being a good role model for my children. I want to live a long healthy life with my husband. I want to and I know I CAN DO IT!