I hate exercising. I don't like sweating; I don't like getting hot. I wish I were one of those people who loved getting up at 5:30 am every morning to go to the gym or go out jogging.
But I'm shy and self-conscious. I don't want to go to the gym and work out with strangers. I don't want to go walking outside because, well, I'm self-conscious and, well, it's sweltering outside!
So, that leaves my only option: working out in my basement on this machine. Not this one in particular but a treadmill all the same.
I have a love/hate relationship with this machine. It speeds up, slows down, goes level and then raises up. It got me into shape so that I could go on daily hikes in Switzerland with my Swiss friend, Daniela. She's the blond, long-legged one.
In the photo above, we are in front of the three famous Alps peaks: The Mönch (The Monk), The Jungfrau (The Virgin), and the Eiger. The photo was taken in Grindelwald.
That was in September 2009. I've put on a little weight since that photo.
This is me with the Matterhorn in the background. As good as that treadmill was and as disciplined I was at the time, it did not prepare me to hike up to this level. We took the train.
Which brings me back to my nemesis. Not only do I hate exercising, but I love sweets. I love bread. My husband bakes the best homemade bread in my world. No recipe, no bread machine. All kneaded by hand with love. It's what I live for when it's in the house. Almost every carbohydrate that makes one look like the Pillsbury Doughboy is my Achilles' heel.
However, it's time to buckle down...again. So, for the past two days, I have used my treadmill. It's my "frenemy."
But it's time to get healthier, to be happier with how I look and feel, and to be more energetic. But first, I'm just going to have to sample my daughter's scratch-made chocolate cake.
I mean, how could I say, "No." to this sweet face. Because I'm just a phenomenal mother who gives up so much for her children, I will sacrifice. That's just who I am.
To the basement I go on