One "step" at a time.....

I had a moment of revelation today thanks to the new “MyTrack Step Counter” treadmill we bought this past weekend. On average, we should be taking 10,000-11,000steps per day to stay fit and active. I always thought I walk so much with cleaning and exercise and running errands that this was a simple feat. Plainly and simply, I was probably very, very wrong. If my 8th grade math is correct, this would entail me walking the treadmill at a pace of 2.5mph for almost an hour and a half. Since I am not exactly the speciman used for physical fitness, this is still a ways out of my grasp. In my reality this would mean I would have to walk the treadmill three times a day for 30 minutes. Fuck. As it is, after I push myself for an hour my legs feel like rubberbands. And not those thick sturdy rubberbands that could hold a stack of 2x4’s together either. I am talking about the kind of rubberband that you find in the back of your desk drawer and hope will hold together a short stack of papers. Only, when you try to wrap it that “one last time” it snaps, breaks and smacks you in the face like a bad insult to your intelligence for ever having used it to begin with. I guess it is true that you just can’t fix stupid. You can side step it, hop over it, sleep next to it, dodge it like a Matrix villain and occassionally ignore it, but you just can’t fix it. It isn’t broken, misjudged or misunderstood, sometimes stupid is just plain stupid.

If we are speaking in truths, let’s just face facts: There are no easily pliable receptors in your fat ladden brain that willfully want to put down the super sized bag of Cheetos and trade them in for an airy cheddar rice cake. Given the choice, a fat girl will always make the wrong choice. Hence, the reason we are fat. It has taken months of anxiety attacks, meltdowns, tears and misery to get a point where I can will myself to make the right choice….most of the time. I would love to say that after this surgery I will be scared straight and will never drop the rice cake and reach for the cookie, but I would be lying and I think I’ve lied to myself enough in the last 15 years. The best I can do is try to dial down the stupid and turn up the reasoning and be as successful as I allow myself to be. If knowledge is power than I am on my way to earning a PhD. But, cookies will always be my kryptonite.