Four weeks.

So, I’m still fast food free! Today is four weeks, I think.

I’ve been doing zumba…. three times last week, twice this week. It’s been hard to find time to go since I’m working 9-5, have a long commute, and we’re in the midst of finally officially moving into our new house.  So every evening my job has been to take over childcare duty while my husband goes and takes a load of stuff to the house and works on our Big Secret Project.  (My mom doesn’t know I have this blog, so I guess I can tell you that the BSP is that we’re painting the kitchen cabinets.  But seriously, you guys, don’t tell her.)

This morning’s Zumba class was not my favorite.  The leader was the lady that owns the studio where I’ve been taking classes.  She’s a former fitness model who refers to herself as Coach TPain.  Most of my classmates were First Class Zumbies whose preferred uniform was a sports bra and hot pants.  Meanwhile, I’m stumbling all over myself in my giant “moisture wicking” t-shirt and capris.  These ladies were not My People.

Every other class I’ve done has had My People.  In order to be comfortable, I need everyone to be fully clothed.  I need at least one person who jiggles at least 75% at much as I do.  I require one booty-shaking grandma.  These are My People.  Not the Real Housewives of North Texas.  

FYI, I have not lost an ounce. Very disappointing. But I mean, I guess I feel better? (Not gonna lie, it’s hard to feel super successful when one month in, I’m exactly the same weight, but I’m trying to focus on the positives.)
If nothing else I feel better for just proving to myself that I can exercise a little willpower and not hit the drive thru, I guess.

It would be nice to see results, but I have to believe that they will come in time.  I know I’m doing the right thing for my health.  Like many things in life, I guess I just have to carry on, knowing/believing that I’m doing the right thing, with the hope that I’ll see a reward for my effort eventually.

I’m really more into instant gratification, though.


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