Somewhere along the line, I misplaced my 38-year-old body. It weighed the perfect weight, had very few wrinkles, had bounced back well from having three kids and was a perfect size 6.
Yeah, it also had a few vices, like cigarettes and Diet Coke. But it worked out daily, didn’t eat desserts, had a low cholesterol and low blood pressure. I wish I could remember where I left it.
Hard to believe, but my 55-year-old body is NOT a perfect size 6. Cigarettes are in my past, but if the end of the world comes, I WILL be the first in line to buy a pack at the 7-11. Somewhere along the way, I discovered ice cream. My blood pressure is still low, but my cholesterol is high. There may be a correlation between ice cream and high cholesterol/weight gain, but my bone density has improved from all that calcium! I still work out, but I don’t see as much progress. My eyes aren’t as good as they once were, but that allows me to see a wrinkle-free face.
I keep trying to give up Diet Coke. Two weeks ago, I went two days without it. I slept-walked through those days with a massive headache. I decided to cut down instead and drink more water. That seemed like a good compromise.
I am contemplating giving up ice cream for lent and hope that I have more success than I did with Diet Coke. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is that time of year when we realize that we need to shed some pounds, so that we won’t scare people when we put on a bathing suit.
So, in pursuit of my size 6, 38-year old body, I have started exercising…again. Let me be perfectly honest. Exercising bores me. If I could figure out how to send my body out to exercise and let my mind go somewhere else, I would.
When the moms from momaha.com started talking about running the Lincoln Half-Marathon in May, I thought to myself, “That’s adorable. It would take me 24 hours to go 13 miles.” Then, I went to check the freezer for ice cream.
Gyms bore me. I hate spending time on some stupid machine with my earphones on, sweating with a bunch of people I don’t know.
My fallback is always the Wii Fitness game. Being competitive, I like having to beat a previous record and can play a stupid game for hours without realizing that I am exercising. I’ve successfully lost some weight with it.
Last spring, my daughter told me that I had to try P90X. For those of you not familiar with this program, it is a series of DVDs that you are supposed to do for 90 days. I lost some weight on it, but … the Ken doll who runs the classes is super annoying. His hair never moves. He tells jokes that are dumb the first time and by the fifth time, you would like to shoot him. My daughter told me to mute the audio and play my own music. That didn’t work as I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do without listening to him, stupid jokes and all. I lasted 70 days. Maybe I was just P70X.
This spring, my daughter told me that I had to try Bikram Yoga. She had just completed a 30-day challenge and felt better than she ever had. She promised that backaches would disappear, I would feel healthier, and my body would get toned. Bikram Yoga is a series of 26 poses done in an hour and a half in a 105-degree room.
So, I began Suicide by Yoga.
I have never sweated so much in my life! By the end of the class, I look like a cartoon character with sweat coming out of every pore. Maybe my 38-year-old body could have done these poses easily, but my 55-year-old body keeps saying, “Yeah, right.”
I have now finished two weeks of a 40-class, eight-week challenge. My jeans do fit better (always the first sign of a toned body). My back doesn’t ache anymore. I do feel better. Well, I think I do. It is hard to tell because after class I have a hard time forming a coherent thought. In fact, I don’t even notice that I am sweating with people I don’t know because I am so busy twisting and contorting my body. I have lost all of two pounds. But I tell myself that muscle does weigh more than fat. I keep going back because when I am done, I really feel good. (Yes, I know. You feel better after you stop hitting your thumb with a hammer, too.)
My goal right now is to find my 50-year-old body. But if you see my 38-year-old body roaming around, please return it. I want it back.
Kathy Koch Joyce is married with three grown-up children. Read her Tuesdays on momaha.com.