Little Miss Motivation
I have a confession to make. You remember that blog post where I decided to post a wish for a personal trainer, just to see whether that might be a way forward for me? I so very nearly did it, but I’m ashamed to say I bottled it.
Was it asking too much of myself, I wondered? Would I really be able to find the time, or would work and life and motherhood get in the way again? Perhaps it would be better to give it another few months, given it’s going to be getting hot outside again soon (I hope!) and such weather wouldn’t be conducive to vigorous exercise for a lady of my proportions.
And you’re absolutely right. These are all cop-outs. The truth is that I sought and in short order found a few spurious reasons to stay away from exercise and ignore the spectre of the diet that really needs to happen if I am to avoid finding my own place in the Guinness Book of Records one of these days.
I am apparently that lazy. And it takes a special kind of laziness to not even bother to lift one’s hand as far as the mouse, click on a link and type a few words in to create a wish, then wait and read whatever results come in. How much effort does that take? It would probably expend about 5 calories, assuming I swung my arm a few times before letting it alight on the mouse.
Except that I’m not, in truth, a lazy person about most of my life: I work, I’m a mum, I cook, I sing, I write, I spend time with friends and there’s rarely a time when I’m not actively doing something. So why should this whole issue of diet and exercise be so different to other areas of my life? Is it because it’s difficult? I’ve done difficult, not scared of that. Is it the money? No – if hubby can justify buying a pack of fags a day, I can spend just as much on a personal trainer without feeling guilty. Do I want to stay fat? Hell, no. So what’s going on?
The fact is, there’s a nagging part of me that thinks any personal trainer I agree to meet is going to take one look at me and, once they’ve stopped crying with laughter, tell me there’s no hope and I should go straight to a gastric band without passing go. Or that if I ring round a few in Yellow Pages or have a look on Gumtree or somewhere, I’ll find nothing but toned and vacuous gym bodies who aren’t into doing clients who need quite so much work as me.
Fortunately, it seems one of my friends has started reading my blog posts on here. She has pointed out that the whole beauty of YouWish is that I get to post what I want and have no contact with people or companies until I’m ready and am sure I’m talking to someone who will accept me as I am and work with me.
No more excuses, then. If you’d like to join me and gain safety in numbers, the wish is here.
With all this thought of holidays, I’ve inevitably come to the conclusion that I would like to tone up and at least be able to wear some shorts this summer, even if I’m not up to a bikini. Or even a one-piece, but I digress. Cosmetic surgery is not an option for me as I simply think I’m too much of a wimp to handle the inevitable pain that comes after all the anaesthetics and ‘proper’ painkillers wear off.