So with every season of Biggest Loser I feel this little fire ignite deep within my gut. There's a little voice that says: "You can do it!" With the season finale on the horizon I find myself here once again. That show inspires me with a slight sprinkling of ticking me off. I would like to have a Jillian or Bob in my life. I want to leave kids and "real life" behind to have nothing but "me" time for months at a time--though truth be told I would be one of those blubbering moms who just wants to go home. And I know what they do on that show is like hard-core--some would say unhealthy. I know I ain't got a chance in Hades to lose 100 pounds in a couple of months--that's totally unrealistic, but it does motivate me to do a little more--to realize that sometimes the hardest part is just getting started.
So what did we get for Christmas? A treadmill. No more lame excuses about it being too cold to go outside. And for a few days after setting it up I would just sit and stare at it. We were sizing each other up, I think and I can't decide who is more scared of who (or is it whom?). I mean, I am a sizeable contender (no pun intended)but I know this machine can sometimes be likened to an instrument of torture--lots of pain, merciless. But after the encouragement I received online I finally set foot (or feet) on that puppy today. This helped too:
Couch potato to 5k in 9 weeks?! Can it be true? We shall see! For now, I have done day 1 and I am alive to tell the tale...I don't hate the treadmill yet. My children stood by and watched me--probably stunned to see their mother exercising. But they also cheered me on and Lola even said I looked better already. Sure I felt a little light-headed, but at least for now I am on my way to being a runner...
