A work in progress

I've been rather diligent about working out for the past month or so. I've made sure that I have done some sort of exercise, ie a brisk walk or weight lifting, 5x a week for the past month. I've discovered that I enjoy it. There's still the occasional inertia to get over ("ooh, its raining outside and this chair is sooo comfy"), but I have begun to look at exercise as an enjoyable companion in my journey to rediscover the skinny woman trapped in this large body.

This is a huge epiphany to me. Before, exercise was a means to an end. A way to justify the 5 oreos I devoured in 3.5 seconds flat. Now I'm seeing the peace and the strength that it brings me in a whole new light. I'm cranky if I don't work out. I don't sleep as soundly. How strange to evolve from an outlook of "I've had a long day, so I deserve these brownies and the couch potato position" to "my day may have sucked, but I'll feel amazing after I do these hills on the treadmill. And those brownies will only add to my feelings of despair when they superglue themselves to my butt cheeks."

I'm still struggling with the eating thing. I've been really hungry the past couple of weeks so staying within my points balance has not been a successful endeavor for me. I'm making healthier choices overall (a veggie wrap at a restaurant vs the french dip sandwich and fries I'd normally choose), but the portions need some reworking. All in good time. I also want to be more diligent about journaling my food choices and drinking my water. Good goals for the upcoming week.

Last night while out on a late night walk with Gracie, I got caught up in the cadence of my steps. The rhythm and feel of my feet striking the pavement (and more often as autumn reaches its peak, leaves on the pavement). The crunching of the leaves as I walked reminded me of how, with each step, I'm moving forward, that I CAN leave the day's trials behind me, and that I'm walking towards the person I want to be. It was a "brick upside the head" moment for me.

I don't want to die with my story still unwritten

Those words haunt me. Especially after witnessing the multiple celebrity deaths and the strife and danger in Iran. Here I am, at 42, in all likelihood halfway through my life (if I'm lucky), and I don't feel I'm really living it. I find myself in front of the tv or on Twitter or Facebook, ignoring the people in my home. It's so much easier to lose myself on the computer and not really engage with Casey or Ken. I don't know why I find this more fun than playing outside with Casey and Gracie. What kind of wife/mother am I? Is this the new norm for married moms everywhere?

I find myself unengaged at work and at home. It's simpler to stay hidden behind a computer screen, rather than volunteer for projects that will be hard work, particularly with uphill battles against the powers that be.

What exactly do I need to engage? What's holding me back? What am I afraid of? Failure? Success?