Better Together

You guys. I've said it before, I'll say it again:

My husband rocks.

Absolutely rocks.

Over the last several months, I've developed something off a passion for getting more healthy and more fit. (I mean, you guys have seen the posts: the billion recipes, the new-found love of green and growing things, the Insanity workout program. I'm not-so-secretly obsessed.)

And, various things have given me little "highs" that keep me reaching for that goal--not necessarily a body weight goal (though I have one), but that desire to be healthy and fit and strong. When I see results, it keeps me motivated.

In this one week of Insanity, I've lost several inches off my body. In a week. That'll keep you going back for more!!

When I started, I couldn't make it through the very first part of the warm-up without a break. Doing some push-ups was right up there with being placed on a torture rack, and, though I've never thought of myself as a heavy sweat-er, my daughter picked my bra up out of the floor while I was showering and asked, "Mommy, why's this so wet?" I, still gasping for breath, informed her that was Mommy's sweat. She nodded sagely: "Yeah. That's shoo. Shoo." And dropped it back to the floor. Yesterday, I made it through the first AND second parts of the warm up without even a pause. Heck, yes!

My kids are another little shove in the right direction. I have spent most of my life worried about my weight. Sometimes I was up, sometimes I was down, but I don't think there has been one day that I was comfortable in my own skin. I want pictures of myself with my kids, but I wind up deleting most of them because I can't handle the way that I look. I hate to go clothes shopping anyway, but especially when I go and everything on the rack looks like it was made for one of Madelyn's dolls in comparison to me. I do not want my kids to suffer with body image like I have. How miserable!

And yet, the only real way to do something about that is to show them, every day, what being comfortable in your own skin looks like. It's to show them that working out is as much a part of our routine as breakfast or combing their hair. It's to live out exercising as a joy instead of a drudge. It's being excited in front of them about healthy foods and good, clean sweat, and changing, stronger bodies.

Nothing makes me prouder, of myself and of my girls, than having them squat down on the floor beside me and attempt to go through motions that they've watched Mommy do. When they succeed, Madelyn jumps in the air, laughing, and yells, "I DID IT! Li did it, too! Yay!" ( I assure you, sometimes the girls do it better than I do!) When I love my exercise and I love my good, clean foods, I'm teaching them that those things are of value and something to find pleasure in. It's not something that we do to approach a number on the scale, or get a certain look--it's joy in taking care of the body that God blessed us with. It's remembering that, though my "temple" has gotten saggy and a little rough around the edges, I can whitewash it and sweep out the cobwebs and patch up some boards. And, then, watching my kids get excited right there with me--what a thrill.

You guys, I've even caved enough to let Mads help me cook. This is a huge step, and I wash her hands up to her armpits first and am still really paranoid, but once she helps cook it, she's excited to try it. And I want veggies to be exciting for her! So. Big deal there.

Anyway, I digress. The point is, that I'm LOVING this life-change. It's not a diet, and it's not one exercise program: when I'm finished with Insanity, I plan on looking into Insanity: Max 30 and TurboFire. I love the push, the intensity. I. Love. It. And, my wonderful husband has watched me love it.

He's graciously allowed me all the freedoms in the kitchen that I want, to change our whole family's eating habits.

"What? You don't want to buy soda anymore?...Ok, we'll drink water."

"Cutting back on carbs and processed sugar? Alright, sounds like a plan."

"No dairy?? Uhm. Well, if you think so. I trust you."

Guys, who does that? Who literally says, whatever huge changes you want to make in the kitchen--even though when we got married you couldn't so much as plate a grilled cheese sandwich--you go for it. I've got your back, I'm great with whatever you want to do. ???? Is this man trying to apply for sainthood or what??

And,then, the kicker.

Insanity.

"Matt, if I finish Insanity this round, will you do another round with me?"

"Why?"

"I want our kids to see healthy living as something we both do and love and are excited about...." Cue about a thirty minute long discussion, which was mostly me rambling about all the reasons I've become passionate about this subject. (Hint: There are a lot of reasons. I'm keeping this post relatively short. He patiently listened to them all.)

"Ok," he said when I was finished, "But, if I'm going to do it, let's do it together from the start. You're already a week in. Would you mind starting over with me, so we can do it together?"

WHAT? Uhm, YES, totally!!!

So, today, instead of being the start of Week Two for me, is going to be the Fit Test to start Insanity for both of us. I love my husband for a million reasons, but not the least of them is that he takes my passions, and he doesn't just encourage them from a distance. He grabs hold and helps me succeed. He stays alongside me
to make goals seem achievable. He doesn't complain about the logistics. He just finds a way to make it happen.

We're going to get healthier, fitter, more active, together.

We're going to be good examples to our kids, together.

We're going to fall in love with being healthy and fit and strong, together.

We're just better, together.

Insanity

   Around Easter, quite a few years ago, my husband and I got engaged. I looked down at myself and decided that I needed to lose some weight--fast. In my search, I stumbled on the Insanity program. It looked like an effective means to lose, so I started.

I lost alright. But it was a beast. I mean, killer. I didn't finish the full sixty days, but I did it fairly consistently until not far off of our wedding day.

Now, back then, I worked out, but I never changed my eating habits. I still drank soda, ate a ton of processed sugar, and vegetables were unidentifiable oddness that took up an unreasonable amount of the grocery store--space that would be better spent on Oreos and Hot and Spicy Potato chips. These days, I'm losing slowly but surely, even without consistent exercise, just by cutting out the crap. But I'm ready to move it along!

Fast-forward. I'm considerably larger than I was back then(as in, a good fifty pounds bigger--EEK!), and my gym visits have been somewhat sporadic, related to kids' illness, general busyness, that sort of thing. Today was one of those days where it was going to be difficult to carve out enough time to drive over there, workout, and get back in time. Then, I remembered.

Insanity.

(The name is so, so apt.)

Excited, I threw on some ok-to-sweat-to-death-in clothes, cleared a good space in the living room, and put the Fit Test video on. Madelyn wandered over and sat on the couch, Lilah not far behind.

"What'cha doin', Mommy?" she asked me.

"Mommy's tired of being fat, honey," I informed her. "I'm going to exercise! Eating right has helped, but Mommy wants to get fit and healthy again." She didn't look noticeably convinced. In her sweet little drawl, she said,

"Oookkkaayyyy." I nodded, taking that as encouragement, and hit play. By the middle of the warm up, I was ready to collapse into a puddle in the floor. Both girls stared. Then, Madelyn hopped down off the couch.

"'Mon, Lilah! Exer'ise with Mommy!" And, the next thing I knew, Mads was jogging in place, jumping, and giggling her way through the various exercises.

At one point, I paused, doing all I could to draw breath. I swiped a forearm across my sweaty head, shoving back unruly hair. I dropped my hands to my hips and sucked in air as best I could.

Beside me, Madelyn used a palm to push back her--still in place--hair, put her little hands on narrow hips, and let out a breath in one big gush. "Whooooooo!" she said, mimicking my panting. Then she laughed, little rotten thing! If she were any older, I'd think she was making fun of me!!....I'm still not totally convinced she wasn't!

I dropped down for plank obliques. Madelyn laid face down on the floor, cheek pressing up against the cool hardwood and watched me. Lilah laid on her back, then scooted underneath me, so that her nose was an inch from mine. She clapped and laughed and thought my struggle was so funny--what new game was Mom playing with her, here in the floor? (I didn't have the heart to tell her that Mommy wasn't playing--she was dying.)

When the workout finally finished, a mere million years after it began, I laid on the floor myself for a few minutes. When I almost had my breath back, I sat up.

"Well, girls," I told them, "I think that deserves a high-five." Both of the kids obliged. "Let's hit the showers!" Madelyn nodded.

"Hit shower, Mommy!" And we were done.

For today.

Tomorrow, be watching, here we come! I've got cheerleaders/helpers, now!