The Definition of Insanity

So, as we all learned on Tuesday, there is a reason why Neal came home from a month in the desert the same size (and maybe a few pounds lighter) and I'm having trouble zipping up my skirts now. M.R.E.'s are less delicious than a Bacon and Bleu cheeseburger from Wendy's (which are phenomenal. If you like bleu cheese, this is the way to go!) followed by a limeade from Sonic during their Happy Hour. As we were preparing for a motorcycle ride on the 4th of July, I came to the abrupt realization that the past month had not gone as I had intended. I took my stability ball and bands to Kentucky so that I could continue to work out while I was home. I even had my former co-worker and Pilates instructor come over for a class in my empty house. And then I stopped. I went to breakfast with friends, lunch with friends, and dinner with friends. And the apple-shaped Allyson grew and grew and grew...so much so that when my husband said, "put on your jeans, we're going for a ride," instead of bouncing happily into the bedroom to change and thinking about how great my ass would look on the back of that bike, I wondered if I could just wear sweats instead. Over-sized Army sweats.

I was lamenting this to him as we toured the gardens in Ft. Valley last Sunday, roasting in my dark denim and extra layers of fat protection, when he said, "well, you're in luck because guess what's coming next week." Oh, guessing games. Yip. Ee.

"An elliptical?"
"No."
"A Pilates machine?"
"No."
"A personal trainer and personal chef who will live in our back 2 bedrooms?"
"No."
"What then???"
"Insanity!"

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Gggrrrreeeeaaatttt.....won't this be fun?

Now, let me just say that yes, I have a degree in Kinesiology and yes, I was a fitness director/group fitness instructor/personal trainer for a number of years...but I believe in exercise in moderation. I don't think the entire world is meant to have 8 pack abs and actual arm definition. And I've never seen either one of those things on me (which may or may not have anything to do with the whipped cream I put in my coffee at breakfast or the ice cream I have after dinner every evening). I was always the chunkiest one at the fitness conferences, but I saw myself as healthier, not fatter. I did not have an unhealthy relationship with food...we knew how to co-mingle in the world very well, as a matter of fact. And I could teach back-to-back Spinning classes and finish it off with a Pilates class and still have energy left over to lift. I was in shape...just not skinny. I have a feeling this about to change all of that.

I did the Fitness Test last night. Granted, I had already done 30 minutes on the Wii Gold's Boxing game...but I kind of thought I was going to die in my living room and the cats would gnaw off half my face before Neal came home to find me. In preparation for today's workout, we watched the DVD in bed last night. It looks hard. And by hard, I mean whatever is four stages beyond impossible. But if I die, Neal will have to find a new woman who puts up with that throat-clearing thing he does in the shower. And that's probably not going to happen....so maybe he'll stop the DVD before my heart gives out.

Maybe I'll have 8-pack abs and cellulite-free legs at the end of 60 days. Or maybe I'll get pregnant and won't have to do any of it. I'm kind of OK with either. There are demons to face in both scenarios and neither will be easy. But perhaps I could lose baby 1 fat before baby 2 comes...