Not too long after I had Faith, when I was still in that awkward time of being too small for my maternity clothes but too big for my pre-pregnancy clothes, I decided to start taking very small, very comfortable baby steps. Those tiny steps led the way to bigger leaps and one day, nine months post-partum, I was the most fit I had ever been in my life. I allowed photos to be taken of me in my swimsuit on vacation and didn’t want to burn them when I saw them later. I enjoyed shopping for clothes. I enjoyed having a level of energy that I didn’t have before.
Then there was James. I thought I would re-create the post-partum magic, and it was going well for awhile and then all of the sudden, it halted. There was a few pounds that I just couldn’t shake. Actually, no, it’s that I wouldn’t shake them. I just lost the drive. I lost the motivation. I started eating late at night, after the kids went to sleep because I enjoy eating and I enjoyed being able to do it without some sort of interruption. I started buying more junk. I stopped exercising. Anyone who does this knows that it’s very fast to start moving downhill. In no time I went from being about 6 pounds from my goal weight to 20.
Now the summer is almost over and the fact that I wasted much of it bemoaning my own lazy self has kicked me back into gear again. If that hadn’t of, then my nutrition class surely would have. One of our projects for the fall is a self health assessment, which I’m about halfway through with now. It’s an eye-opener, for sure. Even some of the time when I thought I was making healthier choices, I really wasn’t.
So here we go, baby steps again! Hello, treadmill. Hello, cauliflower. Goodbye, chips and queso (until the weekend that is).