February: Exercise month

About 5 days into February, I made a little decision to concentrate on exercise this month. While losing weight is a huge priority, what I really need to do at moment is gain back some the fitness level that I lost. Being physically fit is a goal for me, and while I'm not preternaturally athletic, years of dance classes has made body movement important. I like to be active when it doesn't hurt. I like to jump and bend and stretch when I'm not impeded by weakness of fatness. Also, my blood pressure is a little high and I can't have that. I'm too young for that nonsense.

I did a long workout at the gym on Saturday night (forever alone), but skipped on Sunday, which was purely out of laziness. I couldn't go on Monday because I had this work function to attend, but I did finally hurl myself out of my bed at 8:30 last night to do 45 minutes on the elliptical while watching The Biggest Loser. It feels good to be a little sore today, but I know doing the elliptical really isn't that much exercise. I'm getting a bonus check soon. I attend to take that little amount of money and go and hire a personal trainer. I can't really afford it, but I know it's something I have to do. I'll let you know how it goes.

The Winter of My Discontent

This is the winter of my discontent. I’m sad and lonely, and I’ve given up in a lot of ways. You know what? Sometimes it’s just too damn hard. The anxiety of being 30 and single. The staleness of a job. The lack of new people in my life. The total lack of excitement. I’m so fucking bored! And why the hell should I go to the gym when it doesn’t mean a damn thing. It doesn’t fucking work. Going to the gym doesn’t fucking work. But I’m so freaking fat. You should see me. I look like Jabba the Hut. I look ridiculous. I’m short, but my stomach sticks out to.......................................................................here. It’s gross. I’m gross. And I just refuse to budge! I don’t want to be active. I just want to hole up in my dreary studio in my bed reading and watching tv. It’s SHAMEFUL how little I move. I need to reconnect with my body, but I’m too terrified of my body to go near it. If that makes any sense at all. If I’m in control of my life, then why can’t I do the fucking simplest most basic things that I want to do! I don’t know. I’m confused and a little loss. But since I’m not going to kill myself, then I really I don’t have a choice. I just have to fucking do it. Somehow.

It’s silly, but my wonderful dad sends out the daily message texts. A few days ago he sent, “Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be.” --Thomas Kempis. A poignant little statement that did make feel a little easier towards some people in my life, but I still don’t feel absolved. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that I won’t ever lose the weight.