Proverbs 31 Pushups

Today, I'm twenty-eight. (I figure if I spell it out, you won't be able to read the number.)

I don't feel old. I'm not really that old. I'm simply enjoying the "other" side of the twenties.

I can still get on the floor and back up again. I can jog. (Well, it's been a while. Not sure about that one.) I don't wear floral blouses and pull my pants right beneath my boobs. I have never been able to see, so glasses aren't new, and I still have all my teeth. Yeah, I'm totally still young.

Today, I also began working out. Again. This is seriously difficult. When? Where? How?

Plus, what are my motives? Get in shape for weddings I'm in? Get in shape to have more energy for my hubby and Caleb? Get in shape, so I don't scare off young children at the beach? Oh wait. All those should be secondary to: Get in shape to glorify the Lord with my body.

"So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." (1 Corinthians 10:31)

I did 60 pushups, 100 crunches and 100 lunges/squats. (Notice, I didn't spell those numbers out.) Not too shabby for an out-of-shape-late-twenty-something-mom. Happy birthday to me! 

I'm going to have me some Proverbs 31 arms by September. "She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong." (Proverbs 31:17)

Goodbye, Baby Weight!

A mommy friend once told me, "It took you almost a year to get to the size you are now. Give yourself a year to get back down." Fair enough. I got pregnant. Gained weight over almost 10 months, and then lost only 1o-ish of it when Caleb was born. I have a good bit of "Baby Fluff" left to be rid of.


Also, I'm an extremist. I go from prideful to self-pitiful in no time, and lately, my weight has kept me on the pitiful end of the spectrum. I finally broke down and asked my hubby to help me. Neither of us are in the best shape of our lives, so both of us will benefit from this.

Recent Changes at Erven Manor

• Hubby's in charge of grocery shopping. (This means: lots of protein and veggies, and adiós to Nutella and breads and Hot Wings with skin and and apple juice and... Just typing that sentence made me sad.)
• Hubby dictates what I do at the gym. (This means: 3 days of weight training, 2 days of cardio and 1 day of yoga. Did I mention that I loathe weight training and love yoga? I enjoy weight lifting as I enjoy watching ugly paint dry.)
• Hubby dictates what I drink. (This means: I'm going to be sick of water. I mean...I'm going to be well hydrated.)

Allowing my husband to rule over these areas of my life for a while may make him sound like a dictator. It isn't like that. I've asked him to do this for me, because I am not exactly the most self-motivated person. 


However. If Caleb needs to sleep, no matter what it costs me, he's asleep. If my hubby says no, no matter what I lose, I obey him. (He's a reasonable guy. Trust me.) If I forget my reusable bags, I'm heading back to the car to get them. Mr. Erven made the point that I'll do whatever I need to do when it comes to what I'm convinced is important. He made me realize that I can be motivated and determined. I simply have to be convinced that the end result is far worthier than the temporary satisfaction. 


So, here I am on Day 1 of Goodbye, Baby Weight. This is me believing that the end result of healthiness and confidence is far more satisfying than Nutella or Zaxby's wings. No, really, Mrs. Erven. It's true. 


So far, so good. Mrs. Erven, it's not even 8am. Hey! Don't discourage me! I can do this, dang it!