Ok so you bought the pedometer right? You’re tracking those footsteps right? I’ll check in next week for your mind boggling results.
In the meantime do yourself another favor. Start drinking water…not tea or coffee or a Scotch and water…the first two have caffeine which dehydrates you (which defeats the purpose of drinking water in the first place) and the Scotch has…well Scotch in it and that’s like drinking a liquid nail…. are you insane?!(apologies to all the Scotch drinkers out there.) No just drink water. Water is usually clear. If the absence of actual color in the water seems disconcerting to you, add some Crystal Light. They have those nifty little individual packs you shake into a large glass of water. I like the lemonade and the pink lemonade personally.
Ok, aim for 8 glasses a day. Yes it will make you go to the bathroom more but you’re flushing out your system and your body won’t think it’s parched and won’t hold onto water and you’ll see a little loss on the scale. It works.
That’s your homework for today. How hard can it be…just lift the glass to your lips. Oh and have a great weekend walking.
Ok no long rambling nagging today. Its Labor Day for goodness sake. Today is about cookouts, hamburgers with lovely, gooey cheese on it, potato salad with extra mayo and leaving guilt outside the patio door.
Just promise me two things…1.you have bought the pedometer or will buy it in the next few days and 2. you will strap it on over your hip and dutifully record your steps for the next week.
It will be an eye opener I assure you. I wont have to nag you. You’ll nag yourself.
It’s time to take back your power.
Ok, so here is what happened on the day after I decided to create my own definition for being “50”. I bought a pedometer.
More specifically, my sister bought one for me as a gift and said “try it out”. I strapped it on in a cocky sort of way believing I was an impressively active woman and went thru my day.
In case you are not familiar with a pedometer, it’s a gadget that records the number of steps you walk in a day. You wear one above your hip clipped to a belt or waistband and somehow through some sort of hoity-toity technology or Harry Potter magic, it records the number of steps you walk. The steps you walk, affect the calories you burn. At the end of the day I stared in disbelief at my total.
The statistics say (actually some really smart Japanese scientists) that 3,000 or fewer steps a day officially categorizes you as “sedentary”. The goal is 10,000 steps a day or approx 5 miles to maintain weight and more than 10,000 steps a day to lose weight. My awe-inspiring total for the day was 2,785 steps. I was officially “sedentary”.
So what did I do with the knowledge? Did I go out and buy running shorts and a pair of Reebocks? Did I start parking further away from the supermarket and taking the steps instead of the elevator? Did I remove the drying bedspread from the treadmill and use the athletic equipment for its intended purpose? Hell no. I bought 2 more pedometers determined there must be something wrong with the first one’s mechanism.
At the end of the day however, they all read similar amounts give or take a few steps. I could not fool myself any longer. I was no longer cocky, active woman. I was deluded, slug woman. No wonder I had not lost the weight from having had my daughter 13 years ago. It was the kick in the butt I needed.
So here’s your kick in the butt. …go buy a pedometer. Knowledge is step one on your road to taking back your power. Don’t spend a lot of money…hop on Amazon and buy one similar to the one I like the most. It costs $25.00 or less and it’s called an Alliance Accusplit. They have a bunch of different models but the AE120 is similar to the one I have. There’s also one called Sportline that’s good. I like both of them because they seem very accurate, have a cover to shield the reset button from getting bumped and inadvertently resetting itself and they have no bells and whistles so they’re easy to use. Easy-to-use is especially important when you’re putting one on at 6 AM in the morning and your brain is not yet completely functional. The’yre also on the cheap end of pedometers so I do not feel any remorse after having dropped one in the toilet and one accidentally down a drainage grate. Buy a pedometer and strap it on. Sounds exciting just saying that. Then keep track of your day’s total for a week to get a sense of the average steps you take.
At the end of the week if you’re walking over 10,000 steps a day, congratulate yourself and then ask yourself why the heck you’re reading my blog. If you fall into the category of “officially sedentary” like I did, congratulate yourself on your new-found knowledge and decide to make a change.
Because change is what it’s all about.
When a piece of furniture officially turns 50 years old it becomes an antique. You can list it that way on Craig’s list and increase its price. You can use it as an excuse if the joints are a little creaky. You can celebrate its age.
Eight months ago I turned 50, a cause for celebration…
But when I went to my general practitioner he said “you’re 50, go get a colonoscopy.” My OB/GYN said “you’re 50, your bones will get brittle, you’ll lose your libido, you’ll gain weight in the middle and have that annoying vaginal dryness.” And I received an unsolicited AARP membership card in the mail welcoming me to the world of feisty senior citizens and a discount at Bob Evans. Whoopee.
No birthday had ever carried quite so much negative baggage with it. Everywhere I turned, professionals, friends and advertisers were defining being “50” for me. It was as though I suddenly lost my own power to affect my life.
So eight months ago I decided to fight back. In 8 months I have dropped 25 pounds, 4 dress sizes and 5 inches in my butt. I am running 2 miles a day and eating better than I have in years. I have energy to burn and a renewed…very renewed sex drive. And I have done it between cooking meals , taking care of a family and trying to earn a paycheck.
I am creating my own definition for 50.
And I am a woman on a mission. I want to help other middle aged women take back their bodies, find a newfound positive energy and elevate their image. You don’t need to join a fancy health spa or hire an expensive personal trainer. You can exercise while waiting for the pasta to boil, watching Jon Stewart or while brushing your teeth.
You just need to commit yourself to taking your life back. Find your power.
Yesterday I got out of my car to fill the tank and a 30 some year old hottie construction worker whistled at me. I smiled a smile full of 50 year old crows feet and waved coyly back. I got into the car and burst out laughing.
Being an antique never felt so good.
