Today is Day 70 of my intended 101 consecutive days at the YMCA. I’d allowed myself a day off every week (like Lent), and I’ve taken 4 of those in the 7 weeks (tornado warnings, illness and really rotten tired) so far. The shape of my body is slowly changing — I’ve lost a few… Continue reading Day 70 of #101daysagymrat; 10 pounds in 10 weeks; me, too
“So how’s it going? Your hundred days at the gym or whatever?” It’s going. It’s #101daysagymrat and today is #27. I’ve done two spin classes and gone back in the pool for a deep-water aerobics session. I go to the Friday morning Silver Sneakers class with all the squats, and I hang around after church… Continue reading YMCA (hear the Village People roar)
I was diagnosed with breast cancer just before Christmas (yeah, Happy Holidays!), and that’s been my excuse for everything I don’t feel like doing ever since. Like eating well or exercising or going to bed at a reasonable time. “I oughta be able to do this — I have cancer!” Obviously, that’s not going to… Continue reading The new normal; chard-crab quiche
This would be the day for going stark-raving, nutso, bat-crap, screaming like a banshee, inhaling everything in sight, edible and non-. The air is like damp, gray wool. I’m reading William Styron, the master of depressive darkness. It’s Daughter’s Day and one daughter won’t answer the phone, the other had her daughter answer rudely. I’m afraid… Continue reading A fine day for running off the rails; roasted asparagus with a college education
I hurt in places where I didn’t know I had places. Specifically, my triceps, my upper and lower abs. That’s from Pilates, and it actually feels kinda nice, when I shift in my seat, to be reminded that I made it all the way through a fairly brutal class yesterday.
Tomorrow morning, to paraphrase Anne Lamott’s birthday column opener, I’m going to wake up 70 years old (9 years older than she). I am delighted that 1) I will most likely wake up; and 2) I will be at least 30 pounds lighter than on my 69th birthday. I’ve worked really hard on this; in fact, for… Continue reading 70 is the new awesome
Have you seen last week’s People magazine? Twenty-nine-year old Tess Holliday is on the cover — “The world’s first size 22 Supermodel!” — like it’s a good thing. I’m all for accepting yourself and seeing beauty in every size and color, but the 5’5″ 280-pound Holliday is cruising toward diabetes at warp speed. She may feel great… Continue reading Acceptance shouldn’t be approval