I Have a Goal

I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago and got weighed. I'm not going to tell you what the number was, but I'll just say it was a lot higher than I wanted or expected it to be. So now I have a goal. I do have a number in mind, but that's not the true goal. The goal is, by next summer, to be able to wear this.

And this.

Yes. Both the swimsuit and the lovely, lovely dress come in my size. But if I put either of them on now, I'm damn sure someone would ask me when I'm due. (And if you're that evil greeter at Wal-Mart, you'll check twice to make sure I answered correctly when I said I wasn't expecting.)  Since puberty, I've had a big booty and muscular thighs. I accept those things. I do not accept the mommy tummy. I want it to go bye-bye and never return. Thanks to genetics, I've always gained weight in the midsection, and thanks to two little ladies, the midsection grew some more. But now I'm done with it.

The thing about this awesome goal is that I am a procrastinator, and I hate "working out." I have yoga and Pilates and other workout DVDs, but there's something about standing in front of my TV and doing moves that makes me want to just go ride a bike, play a little volleyball or take a martial arts class instead. I want to sweat and work hard for my weight loss, but I want it to be enjoyable too.

I will do the DVDs to really get my heart rate up, but I plan to walk with the girls more, run around on the playground with them. Maybe eventually sign up for some karate or something. I want to be more active, more fit, and less tummy.