I'm motivated ... To Eat Chocolate?

This time last year, I was in full-blown panic over how I was going to train for a half-marathon. I was gathering up the courage to tell my readers that I'd even signed up for one, in fact.

I posted about the half-marathon training and mileage I was completing. (I'll stop adding links... but the mileage updates were done weekly I believe, in February/March.) I was determined to do the half, and to do it well.

Within a month of completing the half marathon, I gained 15 pounds. It wasn't because I was eating differently, because I wasn't. It was solely because I went from running every day to suddenly stopping. Cold turkey. And I had no choice. My knee was so bad that I could barely walk for a days. So, I took the break I needed.

Over the summer, I lost the 15 pounds and then some. In fact, I lost an additional 7 pounds. But, not because I was running again. It was because I had stomach issues that I haven't mentioned before on the blog.

My problem now? Toning. I LOVE working out. I was working out for two hours every.single.day. before I got pregnant with M. And when I was almost a month pregnant, I did a Les Mills challenge at Golds Gym, where you complete three hours of classes, one immediately after the other, when they have a launch. (new moves/new music) I completed Body Attack, Body Pump and Body Combat, doing a total of over 400 push-ups that morning, countless lunges, lifting 30 lbs in weights, and all while pregnant. (unbeknownst to me)

But now? I'd rather cuddle with M than drop her off at the gym daycare. (Also, hello germs. Those little rooms are covered in sickness.) And at night, when it would be easy to go workout because The Husband is home and can watch M? I'd rather cuddle and spend time with him. The only time I've found that I can go to the gym without missing out on time with either love of mine is at 4:30 am, when the gym opens. I have no problem going at that time, as I used to go that early before I got pregnant.

The problem? Golds Gym doesn't offer classes at 4:30 am. And I really enjoy working out in the classes versus alone on a treadmill/stairs of death/ jacobs ladder/elliptical. So, I'm kind of stuck.

And, the real problem right now? I let the number on the scale dictate how I feel about myself for the entire day. Like, the number has put me in a good mood some days, and others? The Husband doesn't want to be around me.

I know how sad this sounds, and I realize that this truly is sad to have a number determine your mood. And I always thought I couldn't help it, it was just the person I was, to be so reliant on a number.

But I'm changing that. Because the number on the scale doesn't know how much muscle I have, how much of my foopah (that's what we call a gut in these parts) takes up the scale, versus how much my big old dome takes up.

So, I perused good old pinterest and decided that I needed to find some motivational pictures to help me realize that the number is inconsequential. From here on out, I refuse to let a number have the power over me that it used to. And maybe, I'll find my old inner self to get my lazy-currently-sitting-on-the-couch-stuffing-my-face-with-chocolate self back into the gym to be the healthiest person I can be for my husband, daughter and myself.