...since joining a gym...
No, this is not going to be some uplifting post about how good I feel or how much weight I have lost (negligible) or how much better life is. You should know me better than that by now. I am not a make you sick to your stomach, feel good motivational speaker. I am a realist.
All of these stupid websites talk about how much energy you will have from working out. I exercise 6 days a week for a minimum of an hour (yesterday was 2.5 hours added together). You would think my energy levels would be through the roof! Instead, in between gym visits, I sit on my couch unable to move. There are things to do, but I don't want to do them. I sit here watching the animal hair collect and think the floors look good all white and fuzzy. It's a nice change from clean and shiny, I think.
The laundry! Oh my, the laundry! I don't own that much that is suitable for the gym (i.e. large and voluminous to cover me). Plus, my girls require some extra strapping in and the cheap sports bras from Target don't quite cut it. They require the heavy duty stuff and I can only afford one...which leads to a load of laundry every day so that my girls aren't too free to do as they please.
Along with the gym I have also started to revamp my diet. I cook every day...every single meal. I am trying to cut processed (easy) stuff out of my diet and make everything from scratch. So yesterday after an hour of Aqua Zumba (my uncoordinated body was under water and therefore nobody knew when I was just twirling around in confusion) I came home to make a full dinner. By the time I was done, I had enough chicken to feed me, my wild animals, and the rest of the block (I haven't mastered cutting recipes in half yet). Also? My kitchen looked like a war zone....I think I found some homemade marinara sauce on the ceiling...
And my amazing increase in hunger has been trying to derail my diet. Since I am burning millions of calories each day (ok, not millions, but it feels like it should be millions) my body wants food constantly. While I lay here each day, all I think about is what to eat. But since everything requires at least 20 different dishes, pots and pans to make, I don't have the energy. So I starve. I have a feeling that an emergency call to Papa John's is right around the corner.
I also mistakenly thought that exercising would lead to better sleep. Nope. I wake up all hours of the night just as I always did before I started running my body into the ground. So not only do I have no energy, but I also can't sleep. I just sort of lay around motionless with my eyes wide open all day and all night. Sort of scary, dontcha think?
I never knew one person could wash their hair this many times. Because I thought it would be a fantastic idea to cut it short, in order for it not to frighten small children each time I go out it needs to be "styled" every day. So I get up, shower, fix my hair, go to the gym, mess up my hair, and wash it again. I can't let it dry on its own and then just pull it into a ponytail anymore. I let it dry on its own last night and I look like I was trying to channel a Charlie's Angel with the fantastic feathered wings I have right now. Therefore I have to wash it this morning. And again tonight after the gym. And then again in the morning. Why did I think short hair would be easier? I might just shave it all and get a wig...
And my gains from this whole experiment? Any weight loss? No. Any inches lost? No (this could be questionable since the cat likes to help me measure by attacking the measuring tape and my legs in the process). But on the bright side, I have discovered Arrested Development on Netflix streaming and I watch that. How did I miss this show when it was on?
After I wash my hair and do some laundry and clean the marinara off the ceiling, I think I am going to lie on the couch and watch Arrested Development while the wild animals shed all over the house. Great plan.
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