Writing on a scrap of paper I found in a waiting room makes me feel like a real, dedicated writer. I'll do this anywhere! Because I have to! I'm Hemingway!
But I'm not here to talk to you about writing, or sleep. I'm here to talk to you about action! I'm here to talk to you about me on the treadmill.
So, I've mentioned recently that I've joined Weight Watchers. Well, ladies and mofos, I have joined the shit out of it, in my opinion. It's a weird sensation, going to meetings and all that, but it's working so I'm into it. I have a big Weight Watchers ounce-tracking water-drinker mug with a built-in straw. (I won't bring it out in public though until I papier mache it over, though. It's too much like, I'm drinking this water because I'm FAT!) And I got the Weight Watchers Walking-To-Keep-Fit-Or-Whatever CD and DVD set. I haven't used the DVD because Camp Finn Entertainment is in the way of where I'd be walking and watching. And I can't watch tv from too far away across the room, can you? I just can't. It stresses me out, it gives me...agoraphobia or something. All that space between us, me and the tv. Ack, it's creepy, like I'm falling off the edge of the world. That this is some sort of sad commentary on something is not lost on me.
But I'm not here to talk to you about tv! The treadmill. I am ON it. I listen to the Weight Watchers CD and I pound the treadment like a hero. This is what I look at whilst treading:
This is some of what the encouraging lady says on the CD:
I'm proud of you for taking action today.
You're doing great.
Picture yourself in that new outfit. Don't you look great? Don't you feel great? Keep burning calories and walking and that picture will be a reality very soon.
Nice.
This is what I'm thinking about and imagining while I tread, my mental tread-fodder:
1. Don't think. Just look at those leaves. So pink. Red? Pink red. There's life in those leaves. There's life in me. It's the same life. Be quiet and feel the life in the leaves with the life in me.
2. I am on the catwalk. I am America's Smallest Next Top Model. I live in a world where a five foot woman who looks cute enough after she lost all her weight is considered model material. Or, no. They're just making an exception for me because I've got something so undeniably magnetic going on now that I am such a skinny little fairy. I've got some kind of fantastical geisha makeup on. Walk, walk. Man, that tiny old model has a great walk. Boomp, boomp. Many people I know are in the audience of this runway show, or watching it on tv. Wow, they say to their neighbors. I would never have pegged her as a model. Throw that on the pile of other amazing shit she can do that I didn't know about until recently. Have you heard her CD? I'll tell you later. She is working that jumpsuit.
3. Not that damned latin beat again. Snore. Snore clinic. Put my snore to bed!
4. Ah, the old lady Bob Barker music! My favorite. It's jazzy and pizzazzy. I wave my hands in the air like I'm a seventy-year-old lady who just doesn't care. Beemp beemp ba-deedee, beemp beemp ba-deedee! This reminds me of when I used to do water aerobics at the YWCA with Tricia. She hepped me to the beauty of water aerobics in a pool full of old people. A of all, it's one way to be exercising in a room full of people and not be the worst one in it. B of all, it's splashy! C of all, nobody but you and the instructor and the old people know that this old-people's-level class is the right level for you. D of all, it actually kind of kicks your ass. E of all, chlorine smells good. And finally, f of all, old people are largely excellent, and it's fun to smile back and forth with them supportively as we all try to speed walk across the bottom of the pool.
And this is what the treadmill counter looks like when I'm done:
Believe it.
5 comments:
Hey, congrats on the weight-loss/exercise thing, but actually, I really AM interested in the Snoring Seminars! Too bad I didn't read your blog on Friday or so, I would definitely have gotten out of my sick bed to attend that Sunday thing.
Okay, I just have to say...THE RUNWAY COULD USE YOU RIGHT NOW!!! Okay? You are a hot mamma right now! That's what that tape should be saying! I should make you a new one, that says things like;
"You're just walking to show off your hot curvealicious self right now, aren't you? Aw yeah, you show them what a woman who just had a baby should look like, just like you, PERFECT, just the way you is, aaaawwww yeeeah."
and then some hip-hop would play.
You crack my shit up sexy Momma! I laughed out loud for reals.
awesome. and very funny.
Have you checked out the shape of a mother blog? It's wonderful! Having a baby changes your body, it's no bad thing, I know you know that, we all do, but it's hard sometimes to reconcile that with the "my pants don't fit" weeping fest in the morning - well I had one of those this morning anyway. Check it out it's a powerful site.
Post a Comment