Workout Clothes??

Want to know why fat people don't work out? Pay a visit to your neighborhood sporting goods store and stand in the sea of skimpy exercise outfits and you will know. Just standing there sucks every ounce of motivation right out of you. Try it. Go ahead. I dare you.

Even the extra large lycra demons are, let's face it...freaking TINY! I backstroked through the rows upon rows of miniscule outfits in The Sports Authority this afternoon looking for ANYTHING that 1) might fit and 2) might not look ridiculous on a frumpy, 41-yr-old mother of three. Good luck with THAT!

I held pair upon pair of itty bitty shorts up to my extremely wide ass. Nope, nope, nope. Not only are they tiny, they are made of all this clingy, shiny material that looks super if you are already thin and toned. However, if you are like me and some of your assets aren't exactly...um...stable, they just make you look bumpy.

I read somewhere that clothes are made the way they are because women supposedly don't care what they look like in an outfit, they just want to THINK they will look like the model. I am here to tell you that I don't know one single women that would fall for that load of horse hockey. Women are smart. Unfortunately, marketing executives haven't figured that out yet. I'd like to believe that's because they are all men, but, alas, I fear that our own sisters are selling us out, ladies!

I finally managed to find a pair of unassuming blue cotton shorts with a (thank you GOD!) drawstring and a white ribbed tank with a built in bra. The girls aren't very big, but they are gettin' on up there and not as perky as they used to be. Need that support.

It's one outfit, but it's a still a start.

Keep reading. I may actually sweat this week! :-)

You gotta start somewhere!

My fitness journey was "supposed" to begin on Monday. I created this blog on Monday. But, I didn't post a damned thing until today. Just what does that say about me?

I prefer to think that it just says I want to be truly ready...prepared for the LONG road this may be in my life.

I also had not stopped to think about what "fitness" meant to me. Over the past few days, I have come to realize that I don't want this to be simply about getting my body in shape. I want total all-over karma. A complete overhaul, if you will.

After some soul searching last night, I also realized I have been seething under my skin for a long time. I can now see the little tentacles that have been sticking out, trying to feel the air for change.

I was just chatting on AIM with my pal, Denise, and sharing the story of the tests I have been putting my hubby through recently. Guess what? As I was blabbing away on AIM, I suddenly had another revelation. This, too, is all about my "fitness".

Aside from an occasional bitchy outburst, I think I've been a rather dutiful wife. I always know where his underwear resides. I always change the bedclothes regularly. I make sure the children brush their teeth and bathe. That sort of thing. But, lately, I have been a bit rebellious.

My first experiment was with the bathroom trash can. I was sitting on the toilet one day, and looked over (as Ihave done many times before) at the trash and thought, "When I'm done here, I'll take that out and replace thebag." Then, a niggling little thought crept into my brain. It said, "WTF! Are you the ONLY person capable of taking out this trash? Has anyone else EVER emptied this can?"

Why, no! I wracked my brain, twisted it all sorts of ways, and still I couldn't remember a single instance anyone other than me had emptied the bathroom trash can. Amazing.

So, I left it. The can was about 3/4 full. I thought it might interesting to see how long it would take before hubby got tired of looking at the trash and took it out himself. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Hmmmm...

TWO weeks later, the trash was flowing onto the floor. Nothing nasty, mind you, but still. It was all I could stand, so I quietly took care of it. Why did I do that? I can't say. A desire to just keep the peace, maybe? I did bring it up to him about a week later, and he just shrugged, and said, "I didn't notice it being that bad." Whatever.

Last night, I began experiment number two. I created a fabulous masterpiece for dinner of crab cakes, couscous and steamed squash. (Did I mention my kids are at the beach with their grandparents this week?) Hubby downed this delicious feast, along with three glasses of Fetzer cabernet, and then proceeded to stretch out on the couch like a 6-foot, 2-inch giant slug.

I sat there at the table, eyes slitted in annoyance and said, "Ahem, do you think you could load the dishwasher?"He said, "huh?" I took a deep breath and tried again, "I worked all day and then cooked this dinner. I just don't feel like I should have to take care of the dishes as well." "Oh," he said, "Sure, I can do that. Give me a minute to chill out." Uh huh.

So, here it is 4:10 p.m. the next day, and the dishwasher is still full of clean dishes, and the sink is still full of dirty dishes. He should be home by 5:30. I'll be pointing this out as soon as his toe passes over the threshold. Stay tuned to see what happens.

In the meantime, I really DO have to begin my fitness journey...the one that tones my body, that is. I lost 25 lbs a year ago, and I've kept it off, give or take five pounds here and there. Now I need to tone this flab. Heck, I'm 41. It would be downright stupid to put it off any longer. My skin is becoming less elastic as I type!

Now, I am off to Target to buy some workout clothes. Who knows, I just may make it to the Y tomorrow. Maybe.