Monday, December 27, 2010

This year, I will...

2011 will officially kick-off in a few days. The beginning of a new year is the perfect time to start afresh. I look forward to the exhilaration of a squeaky, clean slate. I feel hopeful. Renewed. Re-energized. I will shed my cocoon/baggage from the previous year and miraculously transform into a beautiful butterfly. Slim and trim, and light as air. Bring it on! I’m ready to become all that I can be, and all that I won’t be after I lose all that I don't want be….

I know what you’re thinking. “Does this mean she’s planning to lose the ten…er…fifteen pounds that she’s been trying to get rid of for the last ten years? That she’s going to stop eating McRibs? That she’s going to practice yoga, lift weights, and do cardio regularly? That she’s planning to go bike riding at White Rock Lake every weekend? That she’s going to take Ralph for long walks on the Katy Trail?”

In other words, am I going to make promises again that I may not be able to keep? Or, will 2011 be the year that I finally transition into a healthier lifestyle and ditch the poundage that clings so tenaciously to my backside? Absolutely?! Maybe? Snowball’s chance in hell? Why even try?

Well, I’ll tell you why. Because hope springs eternal. Because I want to feel attractive. Because my jeans don’t fit anymore, and I refuse to buy a larger size. Because I’m not getting any younger. Because if I don’t eat less, lose weight, and exercise, I will die...eventually...worst case. At best, I’ll just continue feeling like a troll, stuffing my expansive butt into too-tight pants, and huffing and puffing up the stairs like I’m climbing Mt. Everest.

Some people say that New Year’s resolutions are futile. And I’ll admit, the end results are usually disappointing. More often than not, your best intentions are doomed by the end of January. But what are you going to do? Give up? Lay down and die in front of the flat-screen? Buy a pair of stone-washed mom jeans with an elasticized waistband? I say, “HELL NO!”

So for the next few days, I will eat like a prisoner on death row, devouring my last meal before heading to the electric chair. I will make a grocery list of every healthy, low fat, organic vegetable, fruit, and whole grain product that I can think of. I will pull my yoga mat and five pound dumb-bells out of the closet, and buy a new leash for Ralph. I will purchase a notebook so that, beginning January 1st, I can document every bite of food that I ingest. I will weigh myself each day, before I eat anything and after I’ve pee’d and removed every article of clothing, and then I’ll log the numbers diligently in my journal. With renewed fervor, I will attempt again what I’ve failed to do every year for the past decade. Why? Please refer to paragraph four. And because I’m no quitter. This year, I will...


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