The Dawn of the Revolution...
Even though I swore I was going to join the gym - I didn't. The truth is I hate gyms. I don't like being stared at while bopping up and down on exercise furniture. Most people look at gym machines and immediately know how to use them. I look at a gym machines and see airplane crashes. The twisted metal intimidates me. Give me a yoga mat, put me into a pretzel, no problemo. Ask me to do cardio on a moving apparatus - game over. "Just a minute young-ish lady, (this is my inner voice chatting now) you made 10 New Years Resolutions and you've already broken 8 of them. It's nearly February, grab the reigns before your wild pinto gallops away".
My favorite therapist used to ask me whether I wanted to be right or happy. In this case - happy - and since my inner voice is always so annoyingly right, I gave up.
Enter: Craigslist. Enter: Edward.
This weekend, Aura (amazing mom), bought me a used elliptical for 300 clams. I named him Edward after my vampire YUM crush. Figured it's safer to ride this version of my teen heart throb! It's all very Mrs. Robinson but that's another story.
Edward is huge. I love him but he's freakin' me out a bit. The virgo in me protests. We have a pretty tiny house and I like/demand things to be "just so". In fact, I can't think straight when stuffs out of place or un-feng shui.
Prior to Edwards arrival I was convinced I had no space. The rebounder was fine, perhaps a stripper pole, but that's it! Then my lovely hubby said the magic words that unlocked the magic ah ha. "This is the year of your body. Don't look at it like an eye sore, see your elliptical as an altar. Put your feathers, lights and spiritual crap on it and move your damn ass!" DING.
In that moment I realized just how tightly my excuses grip me. I can convince myself of the craziest (unsexiest) things. Now I have NO excuse. Now I just have to MOVE. Sluff off the emotional barnicles and MOVE. Thank you mom, I love you Brian, welcome Edward, hello Barbie thighs, hello Madonna - I want to look like you when I'm 50! Scratch that, I want to look like you when I'm 40. MADONNA'S ass is going on my vision board. I LOVE Madonna.
See ya! Gonna go pound my new man... He he he...
Peace and an elevated heart rate,
Monday, January 26, 2009
Posted by cancer cowgirl xo at 9:23 AM