Overanalysis of My First Day Back To The Gym In Three or So Years

I *swear* I just lost 10 pounds in the 30 minutes I spent at the gym over my lunch hour today! I SWEAR IT!

Even my shoes fit looser.

Amazing.

It must be God's way of tricking me to go back...all this placebo elation. Or perhaps it's that wicked serotonin and norepinepherine braindrug stuff that has me feeling like what I did today actually made a dent in the last three years of not working out.

I eyed the scale after I changed out of my work clothes into my workout clothes (seems like there should be some sort of irony in all those 'work' kinds of clothes....hmm...hafta think on that a bit). I don't keep a scale at my house. I don't because I'll obsess and be on it every ten minutes or so. That's what some of us weight-obsessed people do: obsess about our weight on a scale. Anyway -- yeah. Highest weight EVER. So...momma's gotta take care of business.

I forgot my lock, so I daringly took the risk of having my Duran Duran VIP Astronaut travel bag stolen. Contents included my iPod (I took my Shuffle that I *thought* I had sync'd music on last night JUST so I could work out today with it, but nooooooooooooooooo. I was denied! I'm not iPod savvy. grrrr), my credit card, car keys, among other incidentals. Of all that, I probably would've been most disappointed about losing my bag. But I digress.

I'm out of practice for the lunch workout. After all, it's a finely orchestrated function to get to the gym, change clothes, work out, shower, re-dress and head out the door in about an hour or a little more. The shower part alone is it's own little process, especially when you're a gym shy girl like me. It's intimidating to be so overweight and be naked in front of very fit women of all ages (notice I didn't say skinny women...there is a difference sometimes). It's hard not to play those recordings of all those pesky life-draining insecurities about vanity that seemingly I never seem to completely mature out of. (And, yes, I am aware that the previous sentence is grammatically incorrect, but I can't control the effervescing braindump right now. I'm gushing with randomness and hyperactivity!) I'm not the kind of girl who is wired to use those images of fit women and that sense of feeling 'not the same' in order to motivate me to health.

Those people who are 400, 600, 800 pounds....I don't know how they get that way. Honestly. And how do they EVER recover from that?! I'm having a hard enough time as it is. Food is awful. It's almost worse than money. You can't live without food. You'll die. One can live without drugs, sex, alcohol, casinos, porn; but one cannot live with out food. Now. The *kind* of food is the hiccup. And THAT my friend is what I habit I need to improve. I contend changing diet is harder than disciplining myself to go to the gym. Because inevitably, my mind thinks: I can eat whatever I want because, hey, I'm workin' out.

WRONG!

Moderation is the key.

Day one down.
We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Loose shoes is a step in the right direction (pun intended)!