Instruments of Torture

That is what I saw everywhere I looked when I walked into the gym this morning. It was not a good gym day. I wanted to give up before I even stepped on the treadmill. But then I took out my phone and I looked at a couple pictures of my nephews and reminded myself why I am doing all this. I want a family, this is the only way I am going to get there. So I jumped on that damn hamster wheel for humans and suffered through 36 minutes of wanting to throw up or pass out.

While I was trudging along I started forming this post in my head. This is my motivation post. I am going to refer back to this post whenever I need a little extra kick in the exercise pants.

First an update on my progress thus far. Since I started my weight loss quest in April I have lost a total of 35 pounds. That is about a pound and a half a week. This is by far the most I have ever lost on a diet. I am noticing a difference in my clothes on an almost weekly basis now, which is pretty damn awesome.

Aaaaand now some motivation. these are the things I think about on the treadmill instead of the pain and sweat. First the whole reason I am here. Babies. Children. Family. More than anything else I want to be able to read my kids bed time stories. Sit at the dining room table and do math homework (I will only be a help up until about 6th grade then it is the hub's turn). I want to be embarrassed in the middle of Target when my kid has a tantrum over a toy. Seriously, I welcome it.


And once I get those kids, I want to be around for a very, very long time. I plan on torturing my kids with how actively I participate in their lives. I am sure I will annoy the crap out of them, like mine did for me. But hopefully when they reach their mid twenties they will be as close with us as I am with my Mom and Dad. Hopefully they will look back at all the basketball games, plays, and lectures about not smoking and thank me, like I do my parents. I am going to need to be healthy for that to happen.

I don't want my kids to be tortured at school because of their weight. I don't want my kids to come home every day from school crying because someone left a can of Slim Fast on their desk, or wrote a note in their year book saying they should work out over the summer. Maybe if I can fix my eating habits now, I will better be able to help my kids have good habits from the start. And maybe they won't get picked on quite as much as I did in school.

I want to go on a vacation with my husband and not be shrouded in big t-shirts and shorts on the beach. I am never going to be a bikini girl, I am cool with that. But it would be nice to feel comfortable in a bathing suit lounging on the deck of some cruise ship holding the hand of my hubs without the little voice in the back of my head telling me to cover up before someone sees me.


Those thoughts are what keep me going. And when those start to fail I fixate on the little pulsing digital hearts on the stationary bike monitors around me. I picture that little heart is beating in my belly, pumping away, telling me to keep going so we can meet. I picture seeing that little heart beat on an ultrasound monitor some day, instead of just seeing the little black circles in my ovaries that cycle after cycle don't turn into a baby. When I want to drop right there on the tread mill and let it shoot me back against the wall so I can just lay there not moving, that little green digital heart is what keeps me on my feet.