AGMA has become very “sturdy” in the last two years.
I always tell people that I’m still working to lose the baby weight I gained while preggers with Son#2.
Son#2 will be 38 next month.
I’ve gained and lost the same 15 pounds for years now. And every time I lose them, SWEAR that I will not gain them back. And AGMA means it.
At the time.
For about 6 years, until late 2019, when I ran on a regular basis, I managed to bar the door to the oh too familiar FPM (Fifteen Pound Monster.) No matter how loud it screamed and screeched and pounded at the door, AGMA kept the deadbolt on tight.
Then there was COVID.
AGMA was already on shaky ground in March 2020.
I had finished my last marathon in October 2019. And I ended up injuring my knee. And I couldn’t run for about 3 months.
Then of course there was the holiday season (which lasts from Halloween until January 1st!!) which definitely perks up the ever vigilant FPM.
It whispers through the door, “A few more of those cookies that you LOVE won’t hurt you.” and “It’s only once a year, enjoy another glass of nog!” and “It would be rude not to sample everything your host made for his open house.”
AGMA cautiously takes the deadbolt off and opens the door a crack, but keeps the chain on. I can always go on a diet after New Year. Right?
Of course, then there are January birthdays. Of course. I mean, you HAVE to celebrate birthdays with rich food and homemade German chocolate cake. Right?
February saw the door’s chain straining to the max. Hubs and I take off for a 2 week trip to Provence and the Cote de Azure. Pretty much any thoughts of restraint as far as food goes is now limited to the volume of my stomach. I mean, it’s France! Right?
AGMA can always go on a diet when we get back from the trip. And as soon as my knee gets better, I can start running again and that will really help. Right?
By the time COVID19 shut the world down, the screws holding the chain on the door are almost completely out.
Between the stress of COVID19’s deadly spread, the Orange Cheetolini telling us to drink bleach, selling our house in Atlanta and moving to Chicago, and a still wonky knee, the door bursts open.
The FPM is, once again, in the building.
But it didn’t stop there…. Oh no…. Soon, it’s little sibling, Eight Pound Monster (EPM) joins big brother.
They pretty much took up residence until this past summer when AGMA started running again. And eating more sensibly. Things were looking up, even after a week long trip to France in July. I had almost gotten rid of little sib EPM.
But….after a 24 day trip overseas in October, all bets were off. It was over. FPM & EPM were in charge again.
Now, it’s cold in Chicago. And AGMA is a major wimp when it comes to running outside in the cold. And I like to eat warm comfort food when it’s cold.
Honestly, right now I look like a panda bear without the fur. And the cute look on my face. .
Desperately trying to find some sort of indoor activity that might kickstart my purging of FPM and EPM, I….
wait for it….
wait for it…
Took an introduction to bouldering class this past week.
At the beginning of class, we were asked to introduce ourselves and include our preferred pronoun. I was glad I wasn’t first because AGMA was a bit confused by the pronoun thing.
Sometimes it’s best to just shut up and listen.
Turns out it helps identify your gender orientation – her/she, him/he, them/they.
Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore…
(But AGMA thinks it’s wonderful that people are allowed to be who they are and are given the dignity and respect to be addressed in the way they want to be addressed. Something I think that the Rethuglicans hate… I savor that!)
Everybody in the class was AT LEAST 40 years younger than me. And 50% my bodyweight. And didn’t have bad knees or a bad back. And looked like they worked out. And probably didn’t have a fear of heights
OMG – what was AGMA thinking signing up for this class???
But I DO have a great sense of humor. So I got that going for me…
But I was kind of a party pooper. I didn’t participate in the “practice” how to fall drills. And I didn’t participate in the climbing. Other than on the kiddie wall.
However, after class was over, realizing my reluctance to look like a beached whale in the practice falling drills, and to show my panic at going more than 5 feet off the ground on a climbing wall, the very kind instructor offered to work with me privately on falling and climbing.
I did two practice falls (ouch – those knees!) And I climbed a purple circuit. Purple is supposed to be the easiest. Of course, my 5 year old granddaughter did the same circuit on Sunday…
The day after, my back hurt. And my knees twinged. And I realize how my immense mass of panda body must have looked trying to scale that wall to all of those young, fit, lithe GenZers who were there.
But in a masochistic kinda way, it was kinda fun.
AGMA can’t wait to go back!