Chubby Mommy

I believe it was Einstein who defined insanity as repeatedly trying the same thing in the hope of producing different results. Or something like that.

Well, my friends, I confess that for years now I’ve been insane.

I’ve tried cutting calories only to find myself standing in the gaping, incandescent-lit maw of the refrigerator at 2 a.m. shoveling down cheese and wheat bread (hey, it was whole wheat, and aren’t I supposed to get my grains?) and telling myself that the calories won’t count because, geez, I’m hungry.

I’ve tried cabbage soup and all of its ignominious symptoms. I’ve tried Alli and its less-than-attractive “treatment effects”. I’ve even ordered — dare I confess it publicly — Venom diet pills (14 pounds in 9 days… and 11 regained the week after I ran out, in case you’re curious).

I have tried everything but moving my butt.

Regularly.

Religiously.

Regardless of whether I want to.

And so, as of this morning, despite having had the flu since midday Tuesday, I dragged my flabby, cellulite-riddled ass out of bed and sat down on my exercise bike and I rode even though three days of bed rest had left me with ankles so swollen my gold anklet nearly cut off my right foot.

I rode.

Even though that damn exercise bike still cuts into my otherwise ample ass to the point where, honestly, I wonder how skinny chicks can stand it, I rode.

Oh, I only rode for 15 minutes, followed by 10 minutes with dumb bells (and, no, I am not referring to my husband) and another 10 minutes of yoga. But I rode. For fifteen minutes. Fifteen long, freaking minutes during which I realized how inane (and commercial-filled) my morning new show is. But still, I rode.

Certainly 15 minutes is not enough time to qualify as “regular exercise” as defined by any of those sensible, bran-eating, cheese-eschewing health-related sites mean when they tell us Chubby Mommies to engage in “regular exercise”.

But it’s a lot more than I do on most days.

And right now, as un-PC as that may sound, I’m pretty proud of that fact.

So let us agree on two things: first, that I’ve given ChubbyMommy.com a reprieve because you said you enjoy it (and, well, let’s face it, I wouldn’t write here if I didn’t think you’d read it); and, second, that in my book you don’t have to follow their book about how to lose weight.

Every bit counts.

That’s what I’m telling myself today.

Every. Bit. Counts.

Know what happened as a result of my decision that 15 minutes (when it could have been zero) mattered?

I opted for All Bran cereal and skim milk for breakfast instead of a Pop Tart.

I had a green salad with low-fat vinaigrette dressing for lunch.

I ate a broiled skinless chicken breast (albeit, with my “Never Say No More” marinade) for dinner, along with steamed broccoli.

By choice.

Those 15 minutes on my exercise bike might not have been enough to satisfy the exercise gurus but, you know what? I know how much commitment they took on my part, especially on my first day out of bed after having the flu. I know I didn’t have to do them… but then every day would have been just like the day before during which I wondered why am I still overweight despite all of these things I keep denying myself?

I’m not denying myself a darned thing.

But I AM about to start giving myself some credit for even small efforts.

Because I’m convinced that today’s 15 minutes (which isn’t sufficient if you listen to Exercise Gurus) is still More Than Enough compared to what I was willing to give yesterday.

So my question to myself — from here until the day when I decide to retire ChubbyMommy.com not for the money but because it no longer fits me — is this: What are you willing to give tomorrow to being thinner the day after that?