So. Today happened.
Mom’s car shot craps last week, so she’s got my van and will be bringing it back on Thanksgiving. No problem, I figured, since I don’t usually go anywhere during the day, so Moon Man can take our car to work and I can just chill here at the house.
Except tonight’s menu calls for shepherd’s pie–got the lamb all defrosted and everything–and I realized I didn’t have any veggies except some sad old celery and the potatoes for the topping.
No problem, I figured; the grocery store is about a mile away, and a mile is a totally reasonable walking distance, and the weather is quite nice.
Except that somewhere in the last year I lost all my motivation to exercise and started eating everything that didn’t move out of my way fast enough. We did the Paleo thing for a while, with the idea that we would splurge on weekends, but it didn’t take very long for “weekend” to be defined as “starting sometime Friday and ending when the last of the leftovers were gone, usually on Monday or Tuesday”. Pro tip: diets don’t work very well when you only do them three days a week–especially when the diet in question says you’re free to eat protein and fats and only have to cut out carbs. But setbacks be damned; I was going to walk to the store.
No problem, I figured; I’ll just get my exercise clothes on and walk to the store.
Except that as a result of my “eat everything, exercise not at all” plan I’ve gained enough weight–and girth–that most of my exercise clothes don’t fit right anymore. I tried on everything in the closet and everything in the drawers and had a minor meltdown when I realized that the one thing that fit the best was my shoes, and even they never really fit exactly right in the first place.
No problem, I figured; I’ll decide to stride out boldly in my ill-fitting clothes, because if people want to judge me, then that’s fine–I know that these clothes will fit better if I keep at the exercise, and I’ve exercised five out of the last 7 days, so I’m on the way to something here, and if passersby are smart, they’ll be able to see that I’m wearing ill-fitting exercise clothes while I exercise, which is the only way to make them fit better, and they will applaud me.
Except that getting into said exercise clothes turned out to be a minor crisis when I discovered that I have gotten so fat and non-flexible that putting on my socks required weird yoga and tying my shoes involved a certain amount of hopping.
No problem, I figured; the people on Biggest Loser come from this exact place and get all healthy and stuff, and if they can do it, I can do it. Heck, that one guy started at over 500 pounds. He had to lose an entire person just to get down to my starting point. I’ve got this.
Except that they have trainers and stuff, and I have only my shame and my determination to get me going.
No problem, I figured; shame and determination have worked plenty well for plenty of people, so off I go.
…So off I went, and made it to the store in a very reasonable 20 minutes, and got the veggies, and made it back home in a very reasonable 20 minutes, and came inside and let the dogs out and got out of my exercise clothes and got some water.
…And heard dog tags jingling in the front yard
And went to the backyard
And discovered that the gate was open
Because we never did fix the latch when it broke a coupla months ago and the bungee cord holding it closed had finally given up the ghost
…So I went to the front yard, chased down the smaller dog while the larger dog started planning his escape route
And he’s a “flight risk”–we adopted him from a shelter where he’d been brought as a stray
And he’s never quite got the lure of the open road out of his system
And he’s not very good about coming when he’s called
And I don’t have a vehicle to go chase him down
And I was all tired from my walk to and from the store
…So I took the smaller dog inside and stood right inside the screen door and gave him skritches and loud praise, because the bigger dog is deeply jealous and cannot bear the thought of anyone else getting lovins
And it worked
And the larger dog barreled in the door
And got skritches and praise
…So while today technically counts as a victory, because I exercised and walked to the store and back and the dogs did not run away forever, it still feels a lot like a crappy, crappy afternoon
And Thanksgiving is in eight days
And we haven’t gotten a turkey yet
And right now I’m not feeling very thankful.
No problem, I figure; there’s always tomorrow, when I can try this whole damned thing again.