Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall

How can I become one of the fittest of them all?

Perfectly timed with the first day of Fall, my abs finally made a reappearance. Right as we kick off Eating Season, where they’ll soon make a hasty retreat like Punxsutawney Phil on groundhog day… extreme candy corn ingestion soon to commence.

The backstory: Since I sew, I know my measurements. Or at least know OF them. There was a point last Winter where I knew ignorance was a sanity savor and I didn’t want to see the realities of my hip measurement. Yet, given the increase in hip and waist, my overall weight has not changed all year. The dramatic spike in family dinners, sitting at a desk job and general decrease in daily physical activity (no going to the beach one a week) took it’s toll in re-compositioning my body.

For the first time, in possibly my life, I dreaded swimsuit season.

Side story: We’ve been discussing Hubby opening a training facility, “Vance’s Gym”, out of our garage. Somewhat jokingly at fist. He’d like to do something similar to Competitive Edge (also started in their garage), but he’s more interested in nutrition and client goals. Which is great, but when I get back to working out, there is only one thing I wonder: “will I ever be fit again? and how long will it take?” I’d dare to guess most who are starting on a new fitness routine wonder these very things.  I was unsure how this would venture would eventually pan out and I dropped the idea of recruiting him clients. First, he needed a willing and forgiving guinea pig – ME.

Early June, right around the dread of swimsuit wearing, we had family visit.  Much like you’d expect from close family, they say what’s on their mind. One such comment was made about hubby not looking his physical best. Granted he competed on stage in his 20s, so anything is probably down from there, but never the less the comment was made and something about said comment really struck a cord with Vance. I will say, the comment was likely targeted more at our meat deficient diet than anything else. Regardless it fired the motivation to get in shape with my dear hubby and I was pulled along in the process.

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My dream physique. Not there yet, but it’s the goal.

In truth he’s made workout programs for me in the past with semi successful results. I don’t really enjoy working out. Running. Well, I love running. Biking I can tolerate. Lifting weights, feels great when it’s over, but prior to and during, ugh. I range between a complaining child and a she devil sporting a short fuse. It’s painful. For. EVERYONE.

So here it is, three months later, I’m not running any more than I was before. I’m not consuming more meat than I was before, I weigh the same weight and yet, I’ve dropped an inch from both my waist and hips. AN INCH!!! Yet maintained my same chest measurement (small miracles I know). And best of all, I’m likely stronger than I have ever been.

Hubby knew my goals:
I didn’t want to add meat based protein to my diet.
I want to look more muscular, but in a lean way.
I want ABS. Dear me, come out little abs, we won’t hurt you.
I didn’t want to lose weight.
I want my clothes to fit better. and lastly
I want my shoulders and arms more defined and toned.

Best of all, I’m still eating sourdough bread, pizza, beer and ice cream…I’d say I’m a success story for Vance’s Gym.

Now from my historic unsuccessful workout knowledge, I know it’s always a work in progress. The struggle to not indulge in apple fritters and Sublime cupcakes every chance I get is an absolutely REAL struggle. Almost near the level of the struggle to find motivation on those “too tired”, “too busy” “too…my kids are bugging me and I’d rather be scrolling Facebook” days. But the playoff in the mirror and the mental high: EVER SO WORTH IT!!!