One of my biggest woes with being a mommy is not being able to work out as much as I used to. I used to work out and diet like CRAZY, and I find that so difficult to do with a little one running around who loves to be involved with everything I do, and (what seems like) endless housework, paperwork, cooking, and job work to do. I know so many people just say, “make the time!” “get someone to babysit!” “trade off with your husband!”, well I do a lot of those things. I go running and walking with Caidoc in the stroller, and I workout in the afternoons, and I walk in the evenings with Husband and Caidoc as a family. We also don’t eat fast-food, or eat out much in general, and we get a lot of our food from our local farmer’s market. So it all sounds good right? What’s the problem?! With running three days a week, core and arms four days, and some yoga on days I’m feeling are particularly “Om-ish” , I’m not sure what’s the problem! Some people say running is the problem, but let me stop you right there. I can’t, and won’t stop running, not until it’s physically impossible for me to do so. I ran when I was nine months pregnant, and I ran when I tore some cartilage in my knee. Its not smart, but I do it anyways. The Oatmeal knows how I feel. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s not the running…
For some reason, I’m just not getting the same results that I usually always got doing the same type of works that I did in college. I still have 25% body fat and can’t wear my cut off jean shorts without wincing at my reflection. It’s one of the most aggravating things. I’m still nursing so I feel like I cant diet like I used to. I am determined to do infant led weaning and Caidoc has no intention of stopping anytime soon which is just fine, but I think causes me to think that I still need to eat like a pregnant woman, so really I wonder how much of my woe is self inflected. Ultimately, I think age is finally starting to take it’s effect and I’m not burning calories like a freshman anymore and I’ll just have to figure out how to do something different . Oh, the woe of getting old.
To deal with this woe, I developed a semi-alterego named Fat Abby. I say “semi” because it’s not a real alter ego. It’s just someone I refer to when I am being particularly lazy or indulging ridiculous cravings, example: ” ERMYGWAD I love Coldstone!! GOTTA HAVE IT! NOM NOM NOM”, “WHAT? One slice of pie you say?! NAY, TWO SLICES OF PIE, I SAY. PUT IT IN MY MOUTH! NOW!”.You’ll know what I mean if you follow me on Twitter, Fat Abby and I have battles occasionally, sometimes it’s not even a battle, it’s just a pathetic surrender. Sometimes she come out all of a sudden, “THAT PICTURE OF AN APPLE MAKES ME WANT FRENCH FRIES, DON’T YOU WANT FRENCH FRIES?! I LOVE FRENCH FRIES, GO GET FRENCH FRIES NOW!”
Anyways, Fat Abby has given me the ability to joke about my woe without becoming too introspective or whiney. She gives me the ability to openly admit that I am being bad, which usually keeps me from being AS bad as I probably would. Anyways, I can appreciate that side of Fat Abby, the other sides of her though (and there are many…) are my down fall. Either way, she is there. Perhaps she is some manifestation of my childhood nickname, Flabby Abby, given to me so lovingly by my older brothers. Or maybe she came from the massive weight gain I had when I was pregnant, or that I’ve always just gained weight reeeallly easily. Who knows? How she got here is not important. What IS important is that she’s useful at times, and for that I am grateful.
Now I think I’m gonna go have a glass of….water.