My intentions are good...

Has it really been over a year?

I don't remember if I explained, but I have spent the last year, wrestling with fertility meds, on the quest to have a baby. And here I am, still in the same place. No baby, 245 lbs.

I have probably lost and regained the same 10 lbs a few times since I have been here last. And I just have to thank heaven that I haven't gone UP. The amount of progesterone I was taking turned me into a hormone-laden Victorian maiden who just wanted to lounge on a fainting couch and drink eat cookies and read banned literature all day. (what, don't you drink cookies? Hello, auto-pilot!)

So once again, I am leaping upon the fool's errand of starting a program the week of Thanksgiving. Which coincidentally, falls on the same day as my 33rd birthday this year.

It's time.

My sign from the universe was the return of my Shangri-La Diet book, and the mention by Secret Squirrel of meeting a a co-worker from the East Coast who has lost 100 lbs.

"And she's just...adorable!" gushed SS. "I mean, I never would have known."

I was skeptical. "How did she do it?" I asked, while visions of Atkins and gastric bypass and bulimia danced in my head.

"Running. I'm not kidding. She said she started with running one minute, walking four. As she got in better shape, she could run more, walk less...and the rest is history. She said she changed her eating habits a little- cut back sodas, more water, you know. But if she wants the chocolate cake, she just has the chocolate cake."

Well, crap. I want to have my chocolate cake- well, creme brulee in my case. And eat it too.

So this morning I excavated the treadmill from beneath a metric ton of yarn and dusted it off. I discovered three workout videos that I bought several months ago, which don't even have the plastic cracked on them. I added them to the towering stack that I have. but never use. I got out the ELOO. I pulled out my cross trainers. I gave up on finding my mp3 player as a lost cause, and I turned up the stereo and started running.

For me, it is all about getting started. First, I decided on a 20 minute workout- that would be three minutes of running, and the rest, walking at a slightly elevated pace. But then I got there, and I had only one for a mile, and I wasn't really even sweaty yet, although I was panting.

OK, one more sprint. More walking. One more sprint. And before I knew it, I was looking at
1.75 miles, and it just seemed like the thing to do to suck it up and make it to two.

And it damn near killed me, but I did. I did it. Six one minute sprints, 35 minutes of aerobic exercise.

I had to scale back the running on the last two sprints, but it was still definitely running.

God, I am beginning to sound like Rain Man.