Daring Experiment

After reading all the comments from my "All that Jazz", I have developed my plan.

I loved all my comments, particularly the one from my mother-in-law -- highly recommended that that piece of advice is read and re-read. I know I'm saving it for a daily read.

I should clarify: Getting the fabulous back is not an attempt to go back to my pre-children life. Not that I didn't love that time. I did. I really did. (For example, if I was sick (like this weekend), Lane would take care of me. Now he watches the kids so I can take care of myself -- not that that isn't also wonderful.)

But this life is even better. My children are my life. I just don't want my life to be my children. And when I sit at home with my sleep nursing bra and pajama pants on all day long, I can't help but think I need a little change. And that isn't even Jane or Elliot's fault. I just like to justify myself and say that between all the nursings and chasing a toddler around, there's no more time left.

So the element I'm actively taking back should throw other elements of the fabulous back as well.

(Drum roll): Running. That's right. I'm taking it back.

I'll start slow, only attempting the gym three times a week (because have YOU tried to run in Texas? It's tantamount to death). And remember, I say three because the gym daycare won't watch my son until he is 6-months-old ... so I have to wait until night when Lane can be with the kids and I won't tell you how motivated I am to get to the gym after a full day, dinner, bedtime and nursing.

But that's why I introduce my new side element. (Do you see it there under the photos?) It's a log of my exercise activity.

Yikes. This is the social pressure. If you care to glance, all five of you will know if I'm meeting my goal or not.

The goal of getting fabulous running back is to get my fabulous clothes back. I miss wearing my favorite jeans and t-shirts every day. I miss my black leather skirt. And I miss wearing my heels (my calves are not in heel shape). All my favorites are in boxes marked with frowny faces in my garage. They belong in my closet. I want them in my closet.

And don't tell me I'll never have that body back again. Let's live in the clouds so I can have the motivation.