The end of the year is rolling in and so am I. Rolling that is. It might be an exaggeration, but only slightly. Looking at the Christmas photos I was (and still am) horrified. Seriously whose fat face is that grinning back at me?
Wait.
It's mine.
Strange how when I dash on the make up at home, or snatch a glance in the mirror as I fly out the bedroom door I don't think I look that bad. But the camera never lies. And there were several cameras there on Christmas Day and they all showed the same thing.
Now I've made many plans for 2010, things like getting my bronze medallion, running a half marathon, that kind of thing. And being several kilos overweight is only going to make those things harder.
So for the next week I am going to be hell to live with.
Hell.
I always find the first few days of readopting a healthy way of eating insanely hard.
You know, the afternoon time where you are tired, so crackers and dips just helps you get through it. Evening time where something sweet goes down a treat. Those times.
But I'm approaching this differently.
This time I'm NOT weighing myself.
I'm not even going to get on the scales.
Not once.
Instead I'm setting goals like wanting Obama arms. You know. THOSE arms. I want a toned stomach and I want to wear short skirts again. Mostly though I want to weigh less so I don't have so much baggage to drag around when I do the half marathon. and I'm secretly thinking maybe I'll aim for the WHOLE marathon, maybe
I'm going to look back in a couple of months and cringe at THOSE Christmas photos and smile at the news ones taken of me where I look ( and feel) good.
I am going to take my measurements and recheck those each month. You see I think that maybe this is where I've been going wrong the past, oh twenty years or so. I've always thought that if I got down to a particular number on the scales, the door to happiness would magically open and maybe Dolce and Gabbana would choose me as their muse.
Well I didn't think the second bit, but certainly the first part.
But the thing is. My door to happiness IS open. And even if it wasn't, I owe myself better than this. So rather than thinking in terms of numbers, I'm thinking of specific things I want for my body, to make it great for me.
So in a way that's my new year's resolution though I'm starting early, because really, there is never a good time to start.
I know lots of people don't make resolutions and I simply don't get that. I'm not being judgemental if you don't. I'm just the kind of person who sees it as a way of setting new goals for myself and making sure I do them.
And I can't do it without support.
My husband is an unwitting accomplice in this endeavour, and in a way, so are you dear reader.
And out of curiosity, do you make resolutions and if so, what's yours?
xxxxx