So my first posting on our collective blog is to be one of confessions and frustration.  As everyone knows, two weeks ago I went to the doctor as the first step in my new fitness program.  I had been avoiding for a long time admitting that I had "left myself go".  I've gotten lazy and complacent eating whatever I felt like, occasionally trying to ""get in shape.  My efforts over the past decade have been made in short spurts and then have just fizzled out. The last real push was this past summer when I started running with all of you. 

 Then I took part in the 5K over Thanksgiving and the whole experience just soured me.  Even though I try to tell myself that simply finishing is a victory, coming in last was so very demoralizing.  (Those two strolling, gabbing ladies I passed in the last 500 yds. do not count...I was last.)  All of it just served to remind me of how far I  have fallen.  I used to be fast.  I used to be skinny.  I used to be...young!

However instread of turning all of that into determination, it gets transformed into defeat and depression.  The climb back to fitness seems so daunting!

Despite all that...I'm taking yet one more stab at it.  I do so desperately want to recapture some of my energy and yes, my youth, once more.

But here's the confession:  a mere two weeks in, having lost six pounds (which should be inspiring and confirming) I find myself already feeling angry and defiant.  I want it to be easy.  I don't, don't, don't want to be so HARD.  If there was a magic pill, I would take it in a hot minute.

So the last few days I have exercised half-heartedly and with much grumbling.  Alreaady I am thinking of ways to cheat on the diet.  Yes, I did manage to stay away from the office goodie bowl, but I'm beginning to cut corners:  portions are getting bigger than they should be, a few "questionable" foods are appearing on my plate.  I've started skippping the half-hour walk at lunch.  (I need this half hour in order to complete the "hour, every day" that my doctor has said I need to put in to lose the weight I need to losel.)

This has all happened so soon!  My resolve is crumbling.  I am beginning to rationalize not giving it my best effort.  I want to cry, I am so disappointed in myself.

I know I am hard on myself.  I have this unrealistic need to be perfect, and this dear family, has always been my downfall.   If I can't be perfect at it, I don't want to do it.  So damn silly.

I want to be able at some point to join in those rhapsodic conversations that you all have when you talk about your running:  the scenery, the calm and release that seems to come over you, the sense of accomplishment.  But I am not there yet.  Not by a long shot.  I am bitchy and mad that I have to do it at all. 

I plan to stay the course, but in order to do so I think doing this is vital for me.  I need to complain and acknowledge just how hard it is for me.  Only by being honest can I move past it.