Well, I made it through. I wish I could say that had attended every day, but our time schedule just would not allow it. I did however, walk out the door with a smile on my face, and ten pounds less on my body. Yay! I have been calorie counting so that helped. But what boot camp did for me is remind me how good it feels to exercise. I have adopted a new motto: "Get fit, live fit, stay fit, pants fit." Mostly I have liked the feeling of ‘having’ exercised, not necessarily actually doing it. Sometimes that is still true. But now I am a little bit closer to wearing the clothes collecting dust in my closet. I hope they are still in style when I can fit back into them.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
I no longer think he is trying to kill me. That would ruin it all for him. No, instead. He is keeping me alive so he can continue to torture me. Mock Nordic Track-like movements, lactic acid buildup inducing squats and midget jumping jacks pepper a work out like no other. Yes, I am down eight pounds. Yes, I want to keep getting fit and lose more weight. Yes, I hate sweating and pain. Oh, and yes, I paid him to do this to me.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
"Your single good deed, big or small, can inspire others and cause a ripple effect of kindness that continues to grow as others join in. Start something today — the more people who take action, the larger your ripple will become."
~ Yahoo! Motherboard, The Kindness Ripple
When our triplets were born 11 weeks early, it was as though we had been yanked off the planet and thrown into some alternate universe with large crashing waves all around. We had no knowledge of the local language, the customs or the people. Our crash course introduction lasted, oh, say, five minutes, and then along with the three new little people who had also been yanked out of their realm, we were all delivered to this new environment.
The NICU. Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Intensive was right, but we soon came to realize “care” was the real deal.
Yahoo!’s generous $100.00 donation to spread kindness and encourage a ripple effect had me thinking hard as to where it should go. The NICU that literally saved our children’s lives felt right. We have great respect for the hospital, but this is for parents who will take the same chaotic journey we traveled. The only thing you wish for is your child’s health. Despite gnawing belly hunger, you often feel unable to leave your baby to get a snack. Bewildered, sleep deprived eyes play across your child and you make any and all deals with anyone you think will listen if it makes a difference. You go home alone and don’t sleep because your child is not within reach, despite confidence in the medical staff.
We decided to add $200.00 to the initial $100.00 (three seems like a good number to us!), and purchase disposable cameras and snacks for NICU parents. Nurses can take pictures when parents aren’t there so no moments are missed. Stepping into the hallway for a snack doesn’t require the parent(s) to go far. Or go hungry.The social worker who assisted us back in 2008 was kind enough to support this idea, and I am looking forward to delivering TO the hospital this time, not IN it. As of this writing I have yet to, but am hopeful that, I can convince a local merchant to cover photo printing or online delivery of completed cameras. During the holidays it can be difficult to be away from family. Our greater hope is that other NICU parents will find some measure of comfort, however small, from what we can drop into the waves that crash around them.
Disclosure: I was given $100 to perform my own random acts of kindness by Yahoo!.
Friday, December 17, 2010
He is trying to kill me. I swear it. I recovered from the pain of last week, or so I thought. Then I went again this week because I committed to it. Eye on the prize, eye on the prize. My legs almost gave out about 20 minutes in. I wasn’t even really out of breath. But then, how could I be if I couldn’t move? “Keep going!” bellows Aron, our super fit instructor. When he demonstrates the exercises it looks so freaking easy. It probably is. If you have no body fat and do them many times a day. Which I don’t. Two to three times a week is plenty for me. I’d like to be able to put my skates on come Sunday.
One of the gals in the class turned and asked me if it was my first time there. I shook my head. “Nope, fourth”. Was it that obvious? I looked in the gym mirror and it WAS that obvious. Red-faced, lumpy, and hair flying everywhere. That’s me. Former skating competitor turned middle-aged suburban blob. For Halloween I had the best costume. It was so easy I didn’t have to do anything. I went as a MILF, cleverly disguised as an un-showered, overweight housewife. I was a hit. I just wasn’t sure if they were laughing because it wasn’t true, or because it was juts a funny idea. Whatever. After that, I decided I’d rather not be cleverly disguised any longer. Now I’m doing ‘suicide drills’ on the command of Aron, while he yells that we shouldn’t let the person next to us do better than we are doing. “Don’t be the one who can’t keep up!’ Was he yelling in my direction when he said that? I was panting even in my thoughts.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
I discovered the secret to weight loss. Pain. No, not the kind of emotional pain that makes you forget to eat. Much more superficial than that. Boot camp pain. Day one was pretty good. I joked with the instructor how it was easier than learning new tricks in ice skating. He said, “I’m going to make you eat those words!” I smiled, but secretly wondered if he would. I had no idea that not only would I eat my words, but that would be the last thing I ate.
I was excited to finally focus on my fitness, and high on endorphins, the day sailed by. I knew 5:30am tomorrow would come with a whole new appreciation for pain. Only, tomorrow came that night. My husband and I went to dinner (low cal entrée choice of course), and a movie. I felt relaxed, happy and ready to hit the gym again. Then, as the credits rolled, I stood up from my seat, correction, I tried to stand up from my seat. My husband could barely contain his chuckles at my obvious discomfort. I told him to can it, and he said that was the best he could do.
The other five women in my class had regaled me with stories of trying to sit on the toilet after their first day. No problem. I have strong ice skater legs, right? Wrong. Hamstrings are strong. Quads? Holy crap did they take a beating.
Day two had me drifting in and out of sleep around 4am, anticipating my 5:30am class. With the alarm I realized that for three years, we have been groaning about our early bird triplets. Yet I was voluntarily up before they uttered their first, “Mommy, come get me!” of the day.
When I arrived, the other instructor was there (they switch off days) and I said, “I got run over by a truck name Aaron yesterday”. She replied, “Today you’ll get run over by a small car.” Huh. That chick was no small car. Day two proved to be far more painful. Stopping at the market on my way home, I grimaced realizing I needed to buy milk – in gallon containers. Weren’t 10-pound weights enough? Nope. The kids need their calcium Momma.
My only muscles that didn’t hurt were the ones for smiling. The same muscles I would chew food with – if I could lift a fork to my mouth. See? Instant weight loss. All I could do at this point was smile. I smiled when I hoisted the milk into my cart. I smiled when the coffee gal said, “Have a great day!” I smiled at the check out when bag girl asked if I needed assistance to the car. Oh God yes, do I. But I smiled and said. “No, thank you”. I even smiled as I attempted to gracefully step up into my SUV without drawing any attention to myself. The grunting didn’t help. I smiled as I watched my children drink their nutrition. I weakly wobbled my coffee cup to my mouth and sipped, not gracefully. I felt pain throughout my whole being. If my pain plan works, that will eventually turn into, “Wow! You have triplets? You look amazing!” And I smiled.