Last week, I finished Insanity for the second time. My life is a little different the second time around. I'm four years older, have two kids (one that just started sleeping all the way through the night about a week ago and another that is both an early bird and a night owl, which makes evening workouts extremely difficult), have a commute two days a week, and my husband works evenings and weekends. So what does this all mean? It means that I skipped at least 1 day a week, I wasn't nearly as strong and determined, and I was not as dedicated to being on a strict diet.
But I still had awesome results: I lost 6 lbs., and though I should've taken my measurements to count inches lost, I didn't.
I feel stronger and am more focused now that it's done. But sometimes convincing myself to do the videos was like pulling teeth, particularly in month 2 when the workouts were an hour long. (Ain't nobody got time for that.) Thank you, Sister, for encouraging me along the way.
And I imagine how great my results would've been had I been as strict and dedicated as I was when I was 30 and childless. But you know what? I don't care. I did my absolute best, and I am so proud of myself for what I accomplished.
I have 13 lbs. to go until I'm back to pre-Toddler Boy weight. And I'll get there. I'm just trying to be patient with myself.
It's not always easy to be patient. I look in the mirror and examine every dimple, stretch mark, hanging skin, bulge. I don't even recognize this girl. And it's SO HARD to accept this new body. And then I watch my baby as she learns to crawl, using muscles she didn't know she had, her beautiful feet and knees grazing the ground awkwardly, arms wobbling. Her delicate hands reaching for something, anything. I watch my son as he's learning to ride a bike (at 2 years old WITHOUT training wheels!!). He's brave and learning to trust himself. His legs move fast as he runs across the yard. Always moving. His legs have so many scrapes and bruises from exploring, from trial and error. All of those muscles and bones and their brains that are helping them do these amazing things... my body, this one that is no longer familiar to me, grew them from tiny, microscopic organisms. It's a really hard concept for me to grasp.
So what does this strange body do now that it didn't do four years ago? It helps humans grow, for one. It produced nutrients until my babies were ready to try new foods. It makes things. It plays in the dirt, nurses wounds, comforts, encourages, helps keep the house in order, carries at least one child in my arms more often than not. And it still supports a husband, hugs friends and works a full-time job outside of the home. I demand a lot from this body on a daily basis. I've got plans, and I'm thankful that, so far, it's been able to keep up. Someday, it won't.
It's natural to be frustrated with the imperfections, but I'm trying hard to change focus. One day and one pound at a time. I'm a work in progress.
But I still had awesome results: I lost 6 lbs., and though I should've taken my measurements to count inches lost, I didn't.
I feel stronger and am more focused now that it's done. But sometimes convincing myself to do the videos was like pulling teeth, particularly in month 2 when the workouts were an hour long. (Ain't nobody got time for that.) Thank you, Sister, for encouraging me along the way.
And I imagine how great my results would've been had I been as strict and dedicated as I was when I was 30 and childless. But you know what? I don't care. I did my absolute best, and I am so proud of myself for what I accomplished.
I have 13 lbs. to go until I'm back to pre-Toddler Boy weight. And I'll get there. I'm just trying to be patient with myself.
It's not always easy to be patient. I look in the mirror and examine every dimple, stretch mark, hanging skin, bulge. I don't even recognize this girl. And it's SO HARD to accept this new body. And then I watch my baby as she learns to crawl, using muscles she didn't know she had, her beautiful feet and knees grazing the ground awkwardly, arms wobbling. Her delicate hands reaching for something, anything. I watch my son as he's learning to ride a bike (at 2 years old WITHOUT training wheels!!). He's brave and learning to trust himself. His legs move fast as he runs across the yard. Always moving. His legs have so many scrapes and bruises from exploring, from trial and error. All of those muscles and bones and their brains that are helping them do these amazing things... my body, this one that is no longer familiar to me, grew them from tiny, microscopic organisms. It's a really hard concept for me to grasp.
So what does this strange body do now that it didn't do four years ago? It helps humans grow, for one. It produced nutrients until my babies were ready to try new foods. It makes things. It plays in the dirt, nurses wounds, comforts, encourages, helps keep the house in order, carries at least one child in my arms more often than not. And it still supports a husband, hugs friends and works a full-time job outside of the home. I demand a lot from this body on a daily basis. I've got plans, and I'm thankful that, so far, it's been able to keep up. Someday, it won't.
It's natural to be frustrated with the imperfections, but I'm trying hard to change focus. One day and one pound at a time. I'm a work in progress.
And, you are beautiful! Just the way you are!
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