It's a Habit Now

Okay, so yesterday was Day 21, and the folks who know about such things maintain it takes 21 days to form a new habit. Here's a stunning observation...I think they're right. For all the moaning and groaning I did all week long, for all the problems I had...really bad, searing pain in the back of my right calf for two days straight during the fast part of my walk; my lousy "Why should I have to do this, I'm already a Goddess," attitude; the Devil-made scales barely budging despite my dedication to regular exercise and caloric restrictions, I kept going. And today, Day 22, a mandated walking break, I actually find myself wanting to walk, and missing the walk.

Who knew? I am a certified, card-carrying, exercising-hating sloth. I hate to sweat. I am much too dainty to sweat. It's not ladylike, and yet now, after 21 days of torture, the walks seem like a necessary, if albeit sweaty part of my daily routine. Yes, I have only lost a little over three pounds, but I have also lost 5 inches and my fat is arranged much more fetchingly, even if I do say so myself.

So, tonight, since I am feeling so chipper and didn't have to walk today, I am actually going to put one of my 783 pristine, unopened, still-have-the-cellophane-on-them exercise tapes into my DVD or VCR (depending upon when in my seven years of desperation I actually bought them) and I am going to try to get through a beginner's exercise routine. Here is what I think I will find. I will find that I am still nowhere near actually being healthy and fit; I will sweat like a pig and suck in air like a drowning woman going down for the third time. I will use muscles I didn't know I had, I will hurt and I may not be able to finish.

But at least I am going to try, am willing to try, am actually looking forward to trying...and that, my friends...is a miracle.

Fat Cat