Good morning! Finally, Valentine's day and a plethora of birthdays are over and I can go through detox and jump back onto my Biggest Loser diet. Each day now begins with an egg white and not a left over piece of cake. I have eliminated all sugar products from the house to get rid of the triggers.
Cookies: Gone (except for the 8 boxes of girl scout cookies Tink bought....some BL partner, eh?)
Ice cream: None
Candy: left over from Christmas in the freezer. I am not one to lose a filling over a frozen Twix bar...however, I can 'break in case of emergency.'
Face it, I am weak and need a weekly weigh in to stay on track. I begged the director of the gym to run another weight loss program this spring to get into shape for the summer.
All in all, it has not been a waste of time. Several terrific things have happened since I have been on the gym circuit.
First, my knees are less sore and swollen. I can walk up and down steps with minimum discomfort.
Second, I actually look forward to boot camps and training. There is a great feeling that I get after I finish...which is probably related to the knowledge that I survived the work out and am not in an ambulance on oxygen and a cardiac monitor.
Third, I have dropped down a size in my pants which means that I had to order pants that actually fit. In the past, I would be looking for bigger sizes or a discrete elastic band in the waistline (don't judge!). Today, I use a belt to keep my pants up over my "not so petite bottom."
What is a "not so petite bottom?" Well, if you are a regular reader, you know what a not so petite bottom is...for new readers.....
Fade to black.....
We took a family trip to Italy and landed up in Florence. It was toward the end of the trip and I could not wrap my head around why the Italians looked so amazing each day. Each one looked more amazing than the next...Finally it dawned on me...I whispered to dad....
"Leather...they are all wearing leather coats and look fabulous." This was not an indication that their apparel was the only reason for their good looks BUT in my shallowness, I thought that the leather coats were pretty dang cool adding to the allure of the population.
On to my big purchase....we landed up in a leather factory in the basement of a church. Wow! The coats and cases were beautifully crafted...yet "oh so expensive."
When I say "oh so expensive", I mean "ouch"....Sorry, no can do...want to get home without hitchhiking in the airport.
Then we walked around the square and landed up in a boutique. I tried on a short jacket that I loved. I looked in the mirror and thought..."OK, this works."
Then dad appeared. "Turn around," he said.
I turned and he said: "get a longer one."
Huh? Longer means more fabric/leather which means more expensive.
"Well," he whispered. "It covers up your 'not so petite bottom.'
Hmmm. I guess this was his way of telling me that my butt was big. If I was not in the middle of Italy and would be facing assault charges in a foreign country, I may have clocked him in the head. Instead, I closed my wide opened mouth and asked the clerk to bring a longer coat to cover my derriere.
To this day, I have the coat. it is well made and has held up better than some of my locally made coats and jackets. Yet, when I wear it, I think of the 'not so petite bottom' crack and chuckle....'cause .....he was right. My bottom was more than not so petite....it was a full moon.
OK, 'nuff said about leather and its ability to make the gluteal region shrink. Perhaps we have discovered something new....
By the way...one last thought...what the heck happened to Richard Simmons? When the kids were little, I had several of his Sweating to the Oldies tapes that I would do in the basement while they played. Is he still alive? Sick? Retired? Someone who exercised so much should have lots of energy and stamina and be aging gracefully, right? Therefore, why isn't he out there on the golf course with the rest of the retirees?
Hey, this is another random thought...I read that a 75 year old golfer was grabbed by an alligator in Florida and dragged to the lagoon. Fortunately, he had his putter in his hand and swung at the gator's eyes. The gator finally let go but he had three puncture marks in his foot. This is enough for me to leave the clubs in the garage and stick to fighting sharks in the ocean from my beach chair.
Enough....sorry to bring you on a convoluted journey. it is the way my mind works on my class day.
Gotta run and do some squats to minimize the not so petite bottom.