My Name is Mommy

Alright.  Last time I saw you, I was whining and crying about having been all motivated to work out and get myself in shape, only to take a spill and sprain an ankle.

Fast forward 5 weeks, and I’m more motivated than ever before, and am about caught up to my earlier workout status, or maybe a little further along.  So excited.  Trying to be careful with the ankle (it still twinges occasionally to remind me of its pathetic self), but I feel stronger than ever.

I’ve made that switch in my head.  Any of you who has ever successfully lost weight, lots of weight, knows what I mean, yeah?  I’m no longer hoping, dreaming, wishing that I could get this off.  I’m just doing it.  It’s not a matter of if, just of when.  It’s many more good choices than bad.  It’s getting up with the alarm at 5:40, and being excited about getting out and getting this body moving and strong.  (Okay, the alarm goes off at 5:40, it’s probably 6:05 before I’m actually excited about being out. ).

Before the sprain, I’d lost 7 pounds.  I regained about 5 nursing the ankle.  Have now lost those 5 again, and a few more.  But still a ton (not literally, just a half maybe) left to go.  But it will.  I know it now.

I’m not gonna blog too regularly about it because, quite frankly, it makes for some pretty boring writing on my part and reading on yours (assuming there are a few of you still out there).  But I will post the big milestones.

In the meantime, I hope to do a little more creative writing out here, and am thinking of starting a photoblog soon.  Remind me if you hear nothing of it and are interested.