Remember the song "I'm a Loser, Baby" by Beck? I used to love that song, listening to it in the car, the sunroof open, ruffling my much shorter hair.
I'm a loser, baby.
My pants are looser. Because of this, the hems fall over my feet, and onto the floor. I had a sense that I was shrinking, getting shorter.
A neighbor asked if I was on a diet. I wasn't sure how to respond, because I think the word diet means suffering. It's no accident that it starts with D-I-E.
After a week of online Boot Camp, I persist. I do not rock every workout. I skip a day or two. It's about progress, not perfection.
And for someone who was getting zero exercise - this someone who is carrying around an enormous amount of extra weight - even completing fifteen minutes of a workout is progress.
I have not weighed myself - we don't have a scale, so I have no numbers. I can judge by the fit of my clothes, and the slow shrinking of my boobage (they're always the first to go. I may miss the "girls" - or not).
I am eating healthier, and staying positive. The voice in my head is offering encouragement, and I keep on striving...not for perfection, that's above my pay grade.
We're eating vegetables like they were going out of style. Roasted asparagus with mushrooms and a lemon butter sauce, and zucchini, yellow squash, onions and tomatoes layered and baked. Green beans with shallots and walnuts that are so good it could make me weep with joy.
I drink so much water, I think I slosh when I walk. And I include bathroom trips as part of my exercise plan.
I am striving for better health, increased energy, and the ability to be more physically active.
I remain positive; The Mister does not. He walks into the room, "Have you done your exercise?" There is judgment in his voice, and 'I knew you couldn't do it' in his expression.
I realize he is a font of negativity (about many subjects), and it makes me sad - for him. And a bit sad for me, because I'd like to think that my spouse would be my biggest fan.
I seem to like me better than he does...even though I'm a loser.
I'm a winner, too.
Finally, speaking of winners. The Listen To Your Mother videos are on Youtube. You can view the St. Louis show here, and maybe get to appreciate the amazing women who shared the experience with me. Have your tissues ready - some of the readings will make you cry, while others will make you laugh out loud.
Note: Two videos #9 and #17) have adult language, so they might not be work/child-appropriate.
When I watched the raw video footage of the show that day, the voice in my head yelled "Damn, Kim, you're HUGE!"
The truth of it hurt for a minute - and since then, it has spurred me on to do better - to BE better to myself.
No negativity. No judgement. No unrealistic expectation of perfection.