In case you haven’t gotten it settled in your noggin yet, let me remind you: I’m quite fabulous. Now, there are reasons why far and beyond the fitness realm (you’ve seen evidence of my extreme wit and genius wordplay), but today, let’s focus on the physical, shall we?
For starters, I got up on time. I know, I know. But calm down, because there’s more. I have also kept the meals clean and tasty; cooked up some rather delectable meals for the fam; been drinking all my water; pushed myself beyond my running comfort zone; and started adding in CrossFit Mama’s WOD(http://www.calicrossfit.blogspot.com/). And that’s just before lunchtime. Now you may lavish your praise.
I am, in all honesty, quite pleased with myself. Now, you know typically I like to retain a little modesty, but today I say, “SCREW modesty.” I am gonna celebrate each and every little accomplishment I can drudge up. Here’s why: because I like to. And once you’re a grown-up, your daily accomplishments tend to go unapplauded. I am so over that. Pardon me while I toot my horn.
Getting up on time may not seem like much to you, and a few months ago, it didn’t seem like much to me either. Because a few months ago it was summer vacation. There was nowhere to be except the pool. I had two slightly larger children to entertain the slightly smaller child while I huffed and puffed through my workouts. Now the damn school system wants them back to learn and be productive. That means we all have to get up and be reasonably dressed to greet the bus at 7:50 am. So ew. Because that means in order for me to squash more than one workout in, I gotta be up by 5 freakin’ a.m. every morning. I do my first workout prior to the rise-and-shine of the rest of the Clan and sneak in the second during naptime. It’s been a rough road these past two weeks or so. I didn’t want to get up and grope my way through the dark and the cold. I wanted to snuggle with Hubby and perhaps watch DVR’ed episodes of The Colbert Report or reruns of Two Broke Girls.
But this week, I’ve done it. I am not only squashin’ those sessions in, I am K-I-L-L-I-N-G them. My cardio is roughly 80,000 times better than it was when I ran my marathon. I run all the stinkin’ time, and I run faster than I did before. Thank you, Shaun T. I know why my awesomeness levels are increasing. I’m givin’ credit where credit is due, Readers. I owe it all to Insanity and my challenge group for causing me severe pangs of guilt if I so much as think about skipping a workout. I also have them in mind when I say “I just can’t do another pushup/floor sprint/globe jump.” I think of them workin’ the same moves and suddenly I can. So I owe a big ol’ thank ya to my Let’s Get Crazy Challengers too.
So, I get out of bed and I workout HARD. That’s pretty impressive. But why stop there when it’s so fun to keep going?
I have also become quite the chef. All I need is a big white hat with a bedazzled tiara and I’m all set to open the SweatItOut Paleo kitchen. I cook amazingly delicious goodies on an almost hourly basis. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and sometimes snacks – oh MY! I’m roastin’ chicken, bakin’ cookies, ironin’ waffles…Well, whatever the terminology is for waffle irons, but you get the picture. Even better – the entire M&M Clan is scarfing their food. I was making balsamic drumsticks at 6 this morning to send in the kiddos’ lunchboxes. And – no lie – they were excited for lunch. There was great smacking of the lips and widening of the eyes to make certain I was truely aware of their anticipation levels. And this was all going on while they ate homemade-from-scratch waffles – NOT Eggos. Who am I? What have I become?
I’ll tell ya who I am. I am the Queen Mum of the M&M Estate, the sovereign ruler and badass monarch of SweatItOut. I have morphed myself from meek and pudgy chainsmoking potato to lean and mean Paleo-cooking Insaniac. “Mild” doesn’t have a place in my life anymore.
Which brings me to one more reason the life a Queen is quite fabulous: I have finally released all dead weight. Those that prefer I keep quiet, dull my sparkle, hide my shiny little light for fear it may eclipse their own? Kickin’ ’em all to the curb. I have far too much happening to devote any more energy to the Debbie Downers. I was allowing them to walk with their stinky little feet all around my brain and use up my quite precious thinking time. I think Paleo is making me smarter, too, because I’ve released the joy-suckers back into their natural habitats (typically cyberspace and, if pictures are to believed, stripmall hair salons with nary a gym in sight).
So today, folks, I’m awarding a fat gold star to ME. I’m fairly certain I deserve it just for living life right and spreading the love.