Exercise and Fun...Do They Even Go Together?

When I was growing up, I was a typical kid. I rode my bike all over the neighborhood for hours in the summer, meeting up with friends, playing hopscotch and jump rope, and staying out till my mom forced me inside at dark.

At that young age, I was oblivious to how many miles I rode, calories I burned or hours I spent pedaling around the neighborhood. I just knew I was having fun--and that's all that mattered. Now I'm a typical couch potato who hates anything that requires me to sweat.

Case in point: I went to Walmart today to pick up a few essentials, and by the time I dragged myself into the store through the 90 degree heat, got what I needed (along with what seemed like hundreds of other people), then drove home and put it all away, I felt like I'd run a marathon. Sweat was pouring down my face and I got so overheated I fell on the floor in front of a fan in total exhaustion!

So tell me, was that exercise? After all, what's the difference between Sweatin' to the Oldies and sweatin' to the beat of my own drum as I navigate the aisles at Walmart, then climb the steps at home over and over to put my wares away?

Maybe I've lost sight of the real problem. As a kid, I used to have fun; maybe I've forgotten how to do that as an adult. When I was young, it came naturally. Now, living the life of an overweight adult, everything that used to be fun seems so much harder now--especially exercise.

Do you enjoy exercising to burn those calories...or do you do it just because you "have to?" If you've found ways to exercise and have fun at the same time, I'd love to hear about them. I think if I could make simple movement fun again, I might have more success at losing the weight--and keeping it off this time.

The Road to...You Know Where

Good intentions. I'm full of them! I intend to eat right this week. Come rain or snow, I intend to exercise every day.

But by the weekend, looking back, I'm usually ashamed at how little resolve I really had. I may have started off the week full of determination and totally committed, but I keep letting little things get in the way and spoil my accomplishments.

Things like that chocolate cake I passed at the grocery store bakery. Or the glazed cake donuts that called my name as I drove past the local Lamar's. It seems anything and everything distracts me from my goals.

I found another blog today about a guy and his struggle to lose weight. In his post today, he talked about how we all make excuses for ourselves when we don't measure up. He's on a weight loss journey, like many of us, and had a particularly tough week last week. He was feeling sorry for himself because he put a couple pounds back on, and many of his readers wrote in with understanding and supportive emails.

But one reader gave him a swift kick in the pants, told him to get up off his butt, get over it and do something about it! He realized right then and there that he needed to heed that advice and stop making excuses if he wanted to live past the age of 45.

Isn't that always the way it is? We start out with the best of intentions, then slowly start sliding downhill because we let everything else get it in the way. And along with the excuses go the resolve--and the self-esteem. Until someone comes along and forces us to confront our demons.

Enough talk. I'm tired of looking like a beached whale (no, I'm not pregnant!) and wondering who that horrible fat lady is in all my family pictures. I'm hitting the treadmill and, at least for today, not making excuses.

One day at a time....