I remember an (older) friend telling me that one day you wake up and just feel old. Maybe not mentally, but physically. Everything aches. Things hurt for no apparent reason. If that is the definition of old, than folks, I am old. Mentally, I feel like I can run for miles or dance for hours at the hottest clubs in the trendiest clothes and in the highest heels. In reality, I suck wind after just a mile and if by trendy you mean BIG and BAGGY than just call me Coco Chanel!
In order to lose the last 10-15 pounds of the most stubborn baby weight on planet Earth, I've been overdoing it. My reward for all this overdoing it? A sore shoulder. Tennis elbow and I'm not even playing tennis! A pain in my knee and my mole-removal-incision isn't helping in the I-feel-young-and-healthy department. But all that is worth it to see the numbers on the scale move downward, right? Probably. But I can't answer that because the *$%^ numbers on the scale ARE NOT BUDGING!
To cheer me up, people (my mom because it's her job to make me feel better) keep telling me to not be so hard on myself. That birthing two big babies in 21 months is hard on one's body. Throw in 18 months of feeling hung over (morning sickness) and eating whatever crap you can find to self-medicate and it is bound to be an agonizingly slow road to squeezing back into those pre-pregnancy jeans.
*BIG LONG DRAWN OUT SIGH*
I am feeling sorry for myself. Yes. I have two healthy children, a roof over my head and ample food in the fridge...(hmmm maybe that's my problem?)...you get my point. I could have 'real' problems. But my God...this aging thing is really, REALLY hard and until it smacks you in the face, you don't appreciate it's power. I'm definitely not ready to be old and since I am planning to live not a day less than 100, it looks like I've got a hard road to tow...big ass and all!