The Thigh’s the Limit: A Mommy’s Squat Challenge (Day 2)
I want ice cream and cake, and no it’s not my birthday, damn it! For the last six months, I have been craving sweets. And yes, before you ask, I have been giving in to those cravings. Now, even my fat pants are snug. The other day, I put on a pair of pants that used to be cute on me. An hour later, I was thanking God that I was wearing an oversized blouse that draped passed the buttons and zipper, allowing me to break free without the world knowing.
Last night, I semi-committed to doing something about it. As I sat on the couch, scraping the last spoonful of that chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream out of the bottom of the container (who has time to get a bowl?), I made a half-serious vow to get “fit.”
But I HATE exercising. I don’t want to sweat. I don’t want to go to the gym. I don’t want to wear lycra. I’m tired to lying to myself, though. You ever catch yourself in a lie and then act like you never said that to yourself? (“I didn’t say I’d commit commit to this.” It’s dangerous when you start doubling up verbs.)
So here I am, trying to do things differently, again. I read somewhere that it’s better to make a small, seemingly insignificant change, and then when that’s a habit (between 21 and 66 days according to my “extensive” Google searching), make another small change. So me, what do I decide? I have the grand idea that I’m going to do something about my thighs and commit to doing squats. Now, I’m not doing that crazy-assed 30-day squat challenge those girls on Pinterest pin. Just the thought of that sends me to the grocery store for Oreos to cope with my inadequacy. Nope, I’m going to do 40, yes 40, squats in the morning and 40 at night for 40 days. That’s it. No knuckle push ups. No power jump roping. Just 40 squats in the morning and 40 at night. Seems easy enough, right?
Well, let me tell you: when you haven’t actually exercised since Beyonce was worried about her “Bills, Bills, Bills,” 80 squats a day is like running a freakin’ 10K the day after you give birth. I’m only two days in, and I feel like I slept next to a rabid donkey.
But I’m going to stick it out, I think.
Wish me luck!