Typical. I'm a good starter.But somewhere along the line I lose momentum.
I wrote the 'Day 1' blog entry, tracked one meal on WeightWatchers.com, and that was it.
So here I am on Day 3. Heavy sigh.
There is just too much going on in my life right now. (Dear Reader: Warning: I'm about to start a pity party. So if you don't want to come, please feel free to come back tomorrow.)
Soccer Practice. Soccer Games. Water Polo. Water Polo Games. Marching Band. Pep Band. Concert Band. Choir. Football Games. Football Concession Volunteering. Airshow Fundraisers. Boy Scouts. Girl Scouts. Salinas High Music Association. Church.
And let's not forget about that big sucking sound in my day: Work. Rebranding. Testing and launching a major upgrade to my Learning Management System. Writing new user guides. Creating new video tutorials. Setting up a whole new site for our Canada operation. Yes, a UK site, too. Creating eLearning modules. Editing Contract Guide chapters. Editing UK Contract Guide chapters. Publishing an update to the U.S. Contract Guide. Budgeting for 2012. Creating a marketing plan for 2012. Online advertising. Eblasts. White papers. Oh, and while I'm at it, create a marketing strategy for a whole new group.
So I get it. It's no wonder I don't have time to think, plan or act when it comes to my diet, exercise and health. But something keeps niggling at the back of my mind...trying to be heard through all of the chaos of my family and professional to-do lists. And it's persistent. It keeps saying: But if you take care of your weight and health, the rest of it won't be so difficult.
I'm trying to listen. I really am.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Day 1 - Clothes Shopping Hangover
Clothes shopping. Two words that can strike fear into the heart of a women.
I went shopping with a friend yesterday. We're trying to get ready for some upcoming business travel. She did great. I did...well, let's just say my experience led me here to start a blog about it.
I wore my trusty Spanx (a much more fun and hip word than "girdle" don't you think?) and headed out in hopeful anticipation. Three stores, four fitting rooms and five hours later, my optimistic mood had all but evaporated.
We started with bras--what a debacle. Arm pit fat. Blech. Moving on. Chico's: home of Travelers stretchy fabric. Yes, it fit and was comfortable. But looking in the mirror was painful. The nice long (and I hoped slimming) jacket just made me look short and dumpy. Have I shrunk? I didn't think that was supposed to happen for years yet. Moving on. Shoe shopping at Macy's. I thought "this ought to be good." But squeezing my big feet into these pretty shoes just made the shoes look bad! Then it was upstairs for more clothes. I only tried on two things: a wrap shirt and a dress. The shirt was okay; it's style did camouflage some of my trouble areas. But the empire style dress just made me look pregnant. And worst of all was the three-way mirror where I could see every bump and roll. Seeing myself from the back was particularly appalling. So much for the Spanx.
Having had mildly similar experiences in dressing rooms in the past, I was shocked at my initial response. In the past, such experiences had proven to be wake-up calls, epiphanies. Must get back to Weight Watchers. Need to start walking at lunch again. Motivating calls to action. Must. Fix. This . Situation. Now!
Yesterday's response was one of resignation. I looked at myself from the front, side and back, and all I could think was: Might as well go to See's Candy.
But last night I dreamed of this: to join my desire to write with my journey to health. And here I am.
I went shopping with a friend yesterday. We're trying to get ready for some upcoming business travel. She did great. I did...well, let's just say my experience led me here to start a blog about it.
I wore my trusty Spanx (a much more fun and hip word than "girdle" don't you think?) and headed out in hopeful anticipation. Three stores, four fitting rooms and five hours later, my optimistic mood had all but evaporated.
We started with bras--what a debacle. Arm pit fat. Blech. Moving on. Chico's: home of Travelers stretchy fabric. Yes, it fit and was comfortable. But looking in the mirror was painful. The nice long (and I hoped slimming) jacket just made me look short and dumpy. Have I shrunk? I didn't think that was supposed to happen for years yet. Moving on. Shoe shopping at Macy's. I thought "this ought to be good." But squeezing my big feet into these pretty shoes just made the shoes look bad! Then it was upstairs for more clothes. I only tried on two things: a wrap shirt and a dress. The shirt was okay; it's style did camouflage some of my trouble areas. But the empire style dress just made me look pregnant. And worst of all was the three-way mirror where I could see every bump and roll. Seeing myself from the back was particularly appalling. So much for the Spanx.
Having had mildly similar experiences in dressing rooms in the past, I was shocked at my initial response. In the past, such experiences had proven to be wake-up calls, epiphanies. Must get back to Weight Watchers. Need to start walking at lunch again. Motivating calls to action. Must. Fix. This . Situation. Now!
Yesterday's response was one of resignation. I looked at myself from the front, side and back, and all I could think was: Might as well go to See's Candy.
But last night I dreamed of this: to join my desire to write with my journey to health. And here I am.
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