I'm bringing sweaty back

I haven't thrown up in a week! I am still queasy at night, but I have kept down small suppers every night for a week. You would not believe how good you feel when you get to digest food. I have energy again. I have been singing and dancing in the the car. I am back to feeling like a good mom to Turner. I have stayed up til ten pm twice this week. Life is good.

I am back in the gym. Moving up from three days a week to four. The more often I go the better I feel. I am a yoga nut. Yoga is a s close as you can come to a scheduled religious experience. My body was made to be worked. I have always worked out, ever since I was fifteen I have worked out regularly. Now sometimes I wonder why, with all this working out do I not have the body of a fitness model? Well I only do it four days a week, not seven. I also do not eat like a fitness model.

I am one of those really annoying people that believes diet and exercise can cure and prevent most common health problems. I know, I hate those people too. I have low blood pressure. This is not good genitics, both of my parents have high blood pressure. Why don't I? Well I exercise, I eat more fiber than your average Joe, and I sturggle to keep myself at a healthy weight for my height. I am always a little overweight. I'm dense. I weigh more than most people who are my size. Whatever. Weight isn't that important. What is? Feeling good, having energy, being happy with myself when I go to bed at night.

So, I did my venyasa flows, warrior one and two, I suceeded at crow level three, and even while four months pregnant managed to get my behind in the air for stick pose. I sound like a granola eating sandle wearing hippie. I am, in a sense. I really want to live a long healthy life. I want to be able to run and keep up with my grandkids and my great grandkids. That's a tall order considering how old I was when I started having kids. So I go, I sweat, I lift, I contort, and I sing like like a fool the whole way home because I feel good when I am done.

The secret to a happy life according to your's truely: Wake up to a clean kitchen. Make your bed. Try to eat well. Get off your butt and move around.

Now the kitchen thing isn't by way of magic fairies. I have to clean my own kitchen at night. But, I wake up to a fresh start. I make my bed when I get up. Why? Because what is more inviting than a neatly made bed to crawl into at night? Notice I said "try" to eat well. I know I do not come close to having a balanced diet. I hate fruit. But I try to still eat something fruit like. A V-8, a glass of orange juice, dried cranberries, anything that I can stomach that could possibly be good for me. The getting off your butt? That's hard. The more aquainted yor butt is with a chair, the less it wants to leave the chair. The less you move, the less energy you have to move. That's why the begining is so hard when you start something new. Isn't there a law of phisics to back me up on this? Objects at rest will remain at rest and resist motion, or something along those lines.

So perhaps you'll see me in the gym, I'll be the miserable looking one whose out of breath trying like hell to keep up. I never said I felt good at the gym. It's after, when Turner and I are walking out the door that I feel like the Queen of Sheeba. I hold my little man's hand and am ready to tackle the day. And I hope that if I keep trying really hard I 'll be around to hold my greatgrandchilren's hands too.