I'm Gonna DO IT.

Today's the day.  I am beginning the climb toward getting my body back. 

I have lost all 40 pounds that I put on with pregnancy, plus 3 more.  The thing is, those 43 have come off without my intentional focus and with no exercise.  So now I have to actually work at it.  Bummer. 

This morning Jason and I got up at 5 a.m. and started P90X.  We did the Chest & Back DVD, and those push-ups and pull-ups kicked my rear.  I only gave about 70% effort... I know better than to push myself to the max and risk a reduction in my milk supply.  I'm also going to have to make sure I eat enough during the day, which is sometimes hard to do.

This is a heartfelt farewell to the old me, the heavy and flabby version of myself that I've known for way too long now.  I have no unrealistic goals for my new self... I have no doubt that my boobs will never be their perky selves again and that my leftover baby belly will never morph into the flat, washboard stomach I once had.  With this I have made peace.  Perky ta-tas and a six-pack mean nothing compared to the three people I brought into this world and fed for their first year of life. 

What I haven't made peace with is the 20 pounds I now face.  The 20 pounds that stand between me and the weight at which I feel like myself.  The 20 pounds that stand between me and my favorite pair of jeans that have been hanging in my closet for years now, staring me in the face and mocking me each time I look at them.  I refuse to stay at this weight and become one of those women who are in their 40s or 50s, blaming their weight on their children.  I mean, come on. 

My plan is simple: eat well and exercise.  Isn't it amazing that that's all it really takes?  For any of us? 

I simply want to look and feel my best, and I know myself well enough to know I can't do that at this weight.  Call it vanity, call it pride, but I'm better than this. 

So here's to a new beginning, a reclaiming of my thinner self. 

Watch out, jeans.  Here I come.