Welcome to the Tales of a Kitchen Witch Blog.
I’m two months into my current fitness plan and as of my last weigh in a week ago I have lost 22 pounds. I’ve also dropped two pants sizes and moved down a bra cup size. I feel stronger. I’m less tired. And yesterday when I jokingly flexed my bicep for the kids a muscle popped out. It surprised the hell out of me!
Why am I doing this? There are, of course, the usual “I want to be a healthier person” reasons: I want to be fit and able to go hiking and running and do sporty things with my kids. I want to be able to play football and basketball with Patrick when he asks me to. I want to set a good example for my children. I want to prove to myself that I can stick to this and that I CAN do it.
There are sad and depressing reasons: I want to be able to plan a night out and spend the day before figuring out what I want to wear instead of worrying whether or not the booth or chair will be a tight squeeze. I want to not worry about widths and weight limits and seat belt lengths. I want to eat without people staring at me with fascination and/ or disgust. I don’t want to ever hear again “should you be eating that?” I want to go for a walk without people shouting at me from cars “you’re going to have to walk a long time fatty!” I want to not be the subject of jokes and pity stares and whispered conversations between family members. I don’t want to be a part of anything our country has decided we need to have a war on. I don’t want my parenting called into question.
And then there are the important reasons: I want to buy dozens of pairs of fantastic boots that slide all the way up my lovely calves. I want to wear a tucked in shirt and a belt with a fancy buckle, just once, so I can say I did it. I want to wear a pair of towering heels and not feel like I might snap my ankles at every step. God I love shoes. I want to shop in regular clothing stores. I want to buy a proper dress for my cousin’s wedding and not my standard wedding uniform of black trousers and a dressy top. I want to choose clothes because they are pretty and I LIKE them and not because they fit properly and disguise my rolls. I want to go out dancing with my husband. I want to walk beside him and feel pretty. I want to pose and smile for photographs and not slink off muttering excuses as soon as someone pulls a camera out.
I don’t want to feel like I need to apologize or hide.
I want to run and jump and dance and play with abandon.
I want to feel good inside my skin.