time to put on the camouflage

May 12, 2009

Monday May 11, 2009

Ya know how moms will try to hide veggies in food to make kids eat them? They do. I know this because I am a mother.
But anyway, I’ve decided this is how I’m gonna have to approach exercise. I must fool myself into thinking I am doing something else.
Luckily for me that eliminates any exercise classes. There’s no trying to kid yourself in those places.
Another thing I’ve found that seems to camouflage a workout is yoga. I think I’m finally old enough to sit still long enough to actually let yoga work for me.  NOT in a classroom setting mind you- I’m not ready for the level of embarrassment, thankyouverymuch. It is only disguised as something other than exercise if you are sitting on your own carpeting in your own living room in sweats you don’t even let your pet fish see.
This is currently what I’m contemplating as I sit on my couch with my toasty, cozy lap top. It’s really all that’s left. Sitting on my couch is all I’ve got left. Since the time I woke up at 6:30am this morning to right at this very moment as I type I have not had one millisecond of free time. I mean, I was barely even on facebook or twitter today!  Can you stand it?
So I’ve got 35 minutes to get a blog entry in for the day. I can do that, but can I get my 20-minute evening yoga session done by then, too? I don’t know. I just don’t know. And would my heart really be in it?
See what I do? I ramble on about how I can’t exercise until it’s so late it wouldn’t make any sense to do it. I mean I committed to the blog part of it all-not, necessarily, the exercise part of it, right?
See? There I go again.
I didn’t eat all of the fries on my plate today. So I should only have to do half the yoga. It isn’t important that I simply didn’t have TIME to eat all of the fries…fries…

That’s it. The lap top closes.

I will get this blog in on time to have a Monday post and I will get myself through a torturous stretching yoga session before I collapse into a heap and take the punches that lie ahead tomorrow.


Mother’s Day= My Day

May 11, 2009

Sunday May 10, 2009

I begin my crusade with a day of rest -because I’m your mother and I said so. Off to a great start…
Let’s chat.
A few things about me:
I’m an actress in Hollywood. Here, I shall refer to it as H’Wood.  It keeps it light and fun in my brain- which is something, I assure you, is necessary for survival. H’Wood is the acting biz, NOT LA- cuz I actually know normal people in LA who don’t want to have anything to do with the entertainment business (those 4.2 people are very friendly). I’m just an actress who happens to live in LA, but who is trying to ‘make it’ in H’Wood.  Ya follow?
On the rest of the planet I’m not very old. On Planet H’Wood, I’m about 3 feet under. On the rest of the planet I have a killer bod. On Planet H’Wood I’m the before shot.
I don’t make the rules.

I have a lot of will power- for a lot of things.
I’ve suffered through this crazy acting career for a long time and I show no signs of stopping. Will power. I was told to go on a no yeast, no sugar, no anything-yummy-at-all diet for a month and I did it. Will power. How much will power do I have to keep exercising?
Approximately zero.

Because I’m thin, I look like I should know how to work a treadmill, or elliptical bike or whatever the hell you call those things.

I don’t.

I have a membership to the YMCA. Here’s my theory: average age at the Y? Gotta be 80 years old. Who would I like to embarrass myself in front of more- 20 year old Hollywood Hunk wannabes or blue hairs? Uh huh. Exactly.

So I’m at the Y… It took me a few weeks of faking a good stretch so I could watch other people mess with buttons on the treadmill before I got on one myself. And even longer after that -crawling along at the lowest speed on the treadmill- that I attempted to steal a glance at a few folks on the step thingy and give that a whirl. Then another month or so to strike up a flirty conversation with the nearest jolly old man so he could show me the way around one of those horrifying weightlifting contraptions.

Here’s what I found:  It’s boring. BO-ring. And who likes to sweat? Blech.

So my mission in this war against my gravity-lovin’ derrier, is to find ways to whittle it down or possibilities to perk it up that might actually be fun. Different ways every week. If there’s one thing I hate it’s routine (no, really, it’s exercise, but I don’t want to get repetitive).

This might be self- sabotage because everything I read says the key to reaching your goals is creating a plan and sticking to it. Creating a *gasp* ROUTINE.

But I’m in to self-sabotage. I’m an actress in H’Wood.

Saturday May 9, 2009. This means War

May 10, 2009

I have waged war against my butt. It doesn’t seem to be complying with the rules of the rest of my body, which are to stay thin for as long as possible without really trying. Am I going to have to start working for this?

It all started when I went to buy a new pair of jeans the other day. I haven’t bought a new pair of jeans in quite some time. I‘ve always thought, “When I get my butt in shape, I’ll buy some new jeans.” Guess what? That kind of thing doesn’t just happen. I’ve tried it. I’ve tried consistently for many years to wait around for a firm ass. No such luck.
It was time to do something. Work out? Oh ho ho no- just buy new jeans. Maybe there’s a miracle pair out there that firms it up high and tight.

Fighting the splitting headache I got just entering the store (holy hell the 80’s ARE back and has the music always been this loud?), I picked out two pairs of “skinny jeans”. Jeans I swear to the gods I wore when I was 10 years old.  Almost skinny enough to have been the VERY jeans I wore at 10.
Upon exiting the fitting room, I began searching for the butt aisle. Surely you must be able to purchase a new one to go along with your new jeans…

Look, I’m thin. I know this. I’m thankful for this. It’s in my genes (must. resist. attempt to crack some sort of “genes vs jeans” joke).  But there’s nothing but gravity helping this butt of mine.  And, last I checked, the only good thing gravity has ever done for any of us is keep us planted on earth.
No mom jeans for this mom. No sir.
It’s time. Fer real.

Something you should know about me: I HATE exercise. Despise it. It sucks. I’m sure there are all sorts of mental issues we could delve into as to why, but not now. I have no doubt if you keep following this blog, you’ll experience a few of my mental issues.

I’ve also been meaning to start a blog for years. After lots of friends telling me to do it and me being too ADD to know where to begin… Here I am.
And here it is:
A blog…heh heh…a blog about…ha! Ha! I can barely get it out…I blog about EXercise.

Follow me. It’s gonna suck.