(Don't worry, I'm getting my roots touched up today. Also, don't worry about my belly button. I swear to you it lines up with the middle of my body. Not sure why it looks so skewed in these pictures.)
I haven't updated lately on my weight loss/bikini progress in a while now. Too much summer, not enough time to sit down and blog. Hard knock life over here, that's what.
Anyway. Here's what has been happening…
I've been working out a minimum of four days a week. I alternate between treadmill/weight machine days and circuit training days. I still hate and despise working out just like before, but I do it because I hate and despise feeling shitty about my body even more. I hate every second of putting on my workout clothes, tying up my sneaker laces, putting my hair back in a rubber band and the walk of doom towards whatever exercise routine I am going to be doing that day.
Did you hear me? I HATE WORKING OUT.
Capital H, we are talking, and yet, I still do it. No, I am not one of those who enjoys exercise. I do not, in any way shape or form get pleasure from exerting physical energy. Unless I get a youknowwhat out of it, there are ten million other things I would rather do. My name is Raven and I despise working out. I hate every second of it. I consistently work out and I consistently hate it every single day. I'm not an "exercise fanatic" nor do I aspire to be an "inspiration." I HATE WORKING OUT but I do it every day BECAUSE the alternative to not working out makes me depressed. The alternative to not working out makes me lose motivation in life and the alternative to not working out makes me fat.
Therefore, I work the f*ck out.
I just wanted to make it clear to everyone who is listening, I hate it. There is nothing fun about it, I don't look forward to it and it's the least favorite part of my day.
But I do it because despite it all, the reward is astronomical.
Seeing the number lower on the scale, seeing my skinny clothes start to fit again, hearing my husband say "damn you are looking good," is all worth it.
That being said…
I refuse to become a slave to the treadmill. I took the above photos yesterday afternoon. And as I looked at them on my computer, I thought to myself, "self, you kind of still have a little pooch in front. Sit down and that pooch will become even more defined." But then, I said to myself once again, "self, you have come a damn long way. Losing 17+ pounds in just over four months is pretty impressive. Good job, self."
Look. I have zero desire to become a workout fanatic/six pack ab holder. I know what you bitches have to do in order to accomplish that feat and yeah, no thank you. I would much rather have a decent body for a mother of two than forgo pizza for six months straight. I would much rather have drinks with friends and eat chips and salsa every weekend on the boat. Add in a donut or two every other week I'm pretty happy.
I love goat cheese. I love pizza. I love ice cream sandwiches and I love vodka. I love all those things more than having six pack abs and thigh muscles (or whatever those are called). I also love being in semi-decent shape and looking pretty good in a bikini more than being a lazy slob who never works out or eats a well-rounded diet.
For me, it's all about balance.
I want my pizza and I want to eat it too. So I take that balance and apply it to my life. I work out, hard, four+ days a week. And I eat a pretty clean diet 80% of the time. But am I willing to give up my cocktails? My chocolate? The remnants of my children's McDonalds frys?
No way. So I am content in knowing that I am taking care of my body, working out and nourishing myself with healthy foods, all while not giving up my right to have a damn good time. Because yes, I totally willingly admit, I cannot have fun without alcohol. I tried it once, when I was like 12, and here we are today, with a Costco bill totaling $700 and over half of that is in booze.
Don't hate the player and you know the rest.
What I'm basically saying is, I have no desire to be a taut VS model. Yes, I wrote silly posts in the past about
drinking only liquids, and I'm not sure if coming into my 30's has given me a major DGAF attitude, but really, I don't.
Knowing I'm putting in the effort and keeping my body in shape, knowing I'm eating the right foods for the most part, and knowing I'm still not going to let my bikini aspirations hinder my ability to have a good time and let loose with friends, well, I'm totally okay with that.
And if other people aren't?
DGAF.
Ps. Lest you never forget...hungry bitches aren't happy. Eat the pizza!!!
Love you. Mean it.
