Although I’m
less than two weeks into my “anti-musterbation” campaign (totally sounds
X-rated. I’m blushing now!), I’m
intrigued by the results. As a person famous for shoulding all over herself, I
get into a real tailspin as the calendar turns from one year to the next. I
don’t want to set up myself up to fail – and according to this very
depressing article I just read, only 8% of people actually achieve their
resolutions – but that rotten little voice inside my head is screaming, “You
SHOULD make resolutions! You SHOULD be a
better person this year!” This
inevitably leads to a “should I / shouldn’t I?” argument, which invariably
leads to a heaping helping of guilt and shame no matter what choice I
make. I’ll either fail to make
resolutions (shameful) or I’ll make them and like 92% of my fellow Americans,
I’ll fail to keep them (guilt-inducing).
When I resolved to skip resolutions, I gave myself a get out of jail
free card, and I’m enjoying the freedom from resolution-related guilt.
Everywhere I
go, I’m surrounded by people talking about their resolutions, wearing their
fitbits or pedometers or whatever the latest “move your big butt” gadget is
that’s out there. The gym is crowded. There are a lot more people hanging out
in the produce section at the grocery store. I applaud all these resolved
persons – even though I know that 92% of them are doomed to fail – and I feel a
profound sense of relief when I realize that I’ve escaped this should-madness.
At this risk
of sounding like an egomaniac, I almost feel like I’m more evolved than my fellow
Americans. My 2015 anthem has liberated
me. I’m still striving to be a better person, but I’m doing it on my own
terms. I can feel my tail shrinking as I
type this!
So, how’s it
going? Well . . . here’s the latest:
Give In:
I finally
gave in and scheduled time to go renew my passport. This is something that I not only “should”
do, it’s something I need to do if I plan on accompanying my husband on the
trip to Italy we’re planning to take in July (and since I’ve already paid for
it, not going would be pretty stupid.) Beyond renewing my passport, I’m also
changing my name. Since I’ve been
married for almost two years, it’s probably time to update my passport with my
new name.
I’m due to
meet my friend Mark at the passport office in an hour. We’re quite a pair. I
was waiting until I could get my teeth whitened and hair styled before I got my
passport mugshot taken . . . (I should look amazing in my passport photo,
right?). He reminded me not to wear
colors that would wash me out and offered to lend my some Preparation H to
“schmear on the bags under my eyes.”
We’re obviously planning to treat ourselves to happy hour afterwards to
reward ourselves for doing something normal people do every single day.
Give Up:
I worked out
with Big, Bad Personal Trainer on Saturday. It was my first hardcore strength
workout in over a week, and he had no mercy. None. I seem to recall that we
were mostly focused on legs, although there was an incident with some push-ups.
(Modified as I lack the upper body strength to hoist 170 pounds from the floor
to the air while fighting with the earth’s gravitational forces). When I woke
up on Sunday morning, I noticed that the only parts of my body that didn’t hurt
were my eyelashes and my fingernails.
In spite of
my aches and pains, I tentatively planned on going to the gym to do some cardio
on Sunday afternoon. I took a nap instead. I gave up on cardio – and it felt
good.
Giving It All I’ve Got:
It’s a small
victory, but MyFitnessPal and I have reached a milestone in our relationship.
I’ve logged in for 14 days in a row, which is a tiny miracle in and of itself.
Even more amazing is the fact that I’ve religiously logged everything I’ve
eaten, even when I’ve embarrassed us both by stuffing my face full of homemade
caramels or delicious puffcorn. Have I
lost any weight yet? Unclear. I don’t
want to get on the scale prematurely, because the three numbers on that scale
have the ability to send me spiraling into a deep canyon of depression. I am,
however, wearing a “skinny” pair of pants to work today. I seem to recall that
I never wore these without Spanx previously and today, there is nothing between
me and these pants but my Hanes Her Way.
(Confession: I can’t seem to locate my Spanx or I’d be wearing them now,
too.)
Another area
where I’m giving it all I’ve got is this Thrive Eight Week Experience I
referenced in my last post. Don’t worry
– I haven’t been brainwashed and I’m not planning to retire on the income I
generate in this pyramid marketing scheme.
I am, however, starting my day with their women’s vitamin formula and
following it up with a not-horrific shake, and I feel pretty good. Maybe it’s
all in my head but as long as I feel this zesty, I’m going to keep on keeping
on.
© 2015 Princess
D
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