The end in sight...

I'm on the downward stretch of losing the baby weight. I can still CALL it baby weight until he turns two, right? Otherwise, if I have to say I'm fat -- I really just might go into a funk. So, let's call the padding "baby weight" -- kapeesh?

Groovy. I'm glad we're on the same page.

Today, the boys shipped off to school and I did what all stay-at-home mom's do best. I lay on the couch in my robe and slippers, fondling the remote control scrolling through steamy episodes of Divorce Court, Judge Judy, Wendy Williams and re-runs of Dr. Phil. It's a mad, mad world out there. I think these shows are so popular because they allow even the most defunct person to feel an iota of "normal" (whatever that is.)

Seriously, though, I watched re-runs of Guiding Light.

Bwa ha ha ha! KIDDING! I don't watch television. I have Facebook.

(And children.)

But mostly, I have a life.

Shocker, I'm sure.

Today, however, I endured much television. Enough to numb my mind AND my ass (and that's a lot). You see, Captain Pampers, Curly-B, ankle-biter supreme... yes the one who bashed my head with a cabinet door night before last... that sweet little footy-jammy clad lad wasn't feeling the magic. Turns out he was a tad under the weather (101.6 temp.)

Oh I won't start the "whoa is me" pity party because he's a kid. They get sick. That's what they do. Plus, he's building immunity and his body is doing it's job. Can't really complain about it when you look at it that way, right? He's not feverishly terminal. It's just an inconvenient bug since it happened to hit on a Friday before a week-long holiday. But, hey, it is what it is.

And, because of today, I shall never get the theme song for Word World out of my brain. If I hear that God-forsaken duck's voice one more time, I may scream loud enough to wake the dead in China. But, since we're on the topic of Word World (not like you have a choice), why is it that the dog can't talk but the duck, bear, pig, ant and bug can? It's like on Mickey Mouse where they have Goofy (a dog -- i think? who talks, a mouse and his girlfriend, a duck and his girlfriend, whatever the heck Pete is...) they can all talk and Pluto can't. Why IS that? That makes no sense. Well, hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog! Rest assured, that's equally annoying.

And speaking of bodies doing work (like Benji's fighting the fever -- are you following my tangents?)... yes... mine is back at work (my body, not the tangent...stay with me here). I took the doctor's advice of taking at least 2-3 months off running and now am starting back slowly. (Slowly=yuck!) Anyone that knows me realizes that "slowly" for me would be as much fun as studying the Tax Code. Simple would not want to do it... ever... for any reason... ever... never. Did I mention, ever? Slow sucks.

I would rather ...well, there is no reason to list all the things I would much rather endure than WALKING but -- it is what it is. I must walk before I can run.

I'm not always the best patient, but I remember like yesterday the PAIN and equally what hell it was to walk for a good, solid week after my knee injury when I'd fried the ligaments in both knees. NO BUENO! I couldn't walk up the stairs for a good four days. That's hard to do in a two-story house.

So, doc said, "Start slow." I start slow. Check. Start small. Check.

My only problem is that I have a competitive spirit and it really pisses me off to see people jogging by me knowing that I could easily pace or pass them, but I'm trying to be a good patient. Being good sucks. I hate rules, too.

The other thing I hate is that you just can't go as far walking. You get places so much faster when you run... because.. you know.. you're like... running. (Duh?)

The other thing that's cool about running is that when you ultimately do begin to walk after you've cooled down, you almost feel like you're walking faster. You're like Dash from The Incredibles. Or, kind of like you were on one of those pedestrian walkways at the airports that help shuttle passengers quicker down long stretches of terminal tunnel. It's a rather cool experience, both the walkway and the after effects of a good run.

Hey, you gotta get your kicks where you can get them, right? I like feeling jet propelled first thing in the morning. Sue me.

So, first the knee conditioning, slow and steady. Slow. And steady. Did you see the "s" word there? Slow? Yes... slow. Did I mention I have a problem with being patient? I hate waiting. I'm full throttle 99% of the time at anything I do. Passion for perfection drives me. Perfectionism is a blessing and a curse. Professionally, it's a gift. Personally... I'm going to consider it a "pro" even though others might call it a character flaw. Again, it is what it is. Sue me.

Eventually will come the running. I have new "chews", you know?! That means my feet are ready to run. They're equipped to run. I have the drive and the will. I just have to condition the knees (a lot) before I an embark on that journey. But, I'm ready. Anything worth having is worth working for and the prize isn't in the end... it's in the journey. Or, that's what I'm telling myself, anyhow.

Next, will come the weights. I won't lie. Weights intimidate me. I can't stand big smelly men that look like a uterus grunting like they're birthing an Ottoman Empire with each set. Plus, I like having company... you know, so you can talk about the walking uterus-men. Steroid-heads make me sick. They're just gross. However, I need weights. I enjoy weights. I like feeling my arms shaking the next day when I've killed it at the gym. I love the feeling my legs and butt when you aren't sure if they're going to be able to hold you up because you tore 'em UP at the gym! I LOVE THAT!

However, just getting back IN the habit is what's really hard for me to do. I had tons of friends at my old gym and so I always had someone to work out with and talk to or at least someone I knew to give me a spot or something. When you're familiar with a place and it's people it's comfortable. Walking into a new gym, you feel like the new kid in school who is wearing last year's style.

Plus, did I mention the fact that when you're out of a routine, having to continually check your form, watch your sets, time your rest periods, learn the new machines, learn the gym layout, etc. you feel hen-pecked by the regimen. I liked having it all in my head and just doing this -- bam! Doing that --bam. Doing the other -- bam! Having a ten minute stretch session and then heading home. I was wrapped up in an hour. It was aces! Getting back into it will be such an ass whip. (Literally and physically!) This weekend is the process where that regimen gets detailed and printed.

I'm 11 pounds from "goal" where I know I will feel comfortable in my own skin (to a degree)... I will never accept what having children has done... it's criminal. I had the CUTEST belly button when I was younger. THE CUTEST, I tell ya!

So the end is in sight for this chapter and what I've been working on. However, a chapters is right around the corner. Stay tuned!