Ugh, it's that time of year again, there's always something we want to change or improve about ourselves and for most of us it's become customary to implement said changes at the start of the New Year. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I'm living proof of that, but this time I think I may succeed. I have been carrying around an extra eight pounds that I've really wanted rid of for the past year, but of course always find reasons to put it off, I'll start next week, but it's vacation time, you all know the drill.
I was invited to a black tie wedding on New Year's Eve, which was pretty cool and more importantly gave me an excuse to buy a new formal dress. I scoured the malls and boutiques and finally decided upon a sequined, backless form-fitting black dress. Not bad I thought, pirouetting in front of the mirror, not bad at all, but in order to get a smoother look a few tweaks were in order. No problemo, I'll just get myself one of those figure enhancing contraptions that all the celebs use under clinging gowns, yup, that's the ticket.
Back to the mall on a mission and a budget, I figure a decent pair of pantyhose should do the trick, I check out various brands and voila, there they are, promising everything from stomach flattening, butt lifting, thigh taming to waist cinching, wow....instant Heidi Klum for $13.95! Great stuff, I head home really pleased with myself.
I take the pantyhose out of the package, no way, are these for a 5 year old? I check the sizing again, shrug and attempt to get them on. Ouch, they're squeezing my toes.....halfway up the thighs I had to lie down, I was totally exhausted, couldn't breathe and now breaking into a sweat, but I was determined and eventually prevailed. Great, a medieval torture device cleverly disguised as a pair of pantyhose, this was going to be a long night and believe me it was, we hadn't yet left the house and already I was dreaming of coming home and getting out of the wretched things. So I endure the cab ride to downtown, we arrive promptly in time for cocktails and hors d'oeurves, by this time I'm starving but soon discovered that swallowing and digesting was was not in the cards. I'm counting the minutes 'till midnight, and finally we head home. I can tell you quite frankly that getting those demon hose off was better than sex. Never again I vowed, those pounds are coming off.
We have an unfinished basement that we've used for "storage", in other words, it's an accumulation of junk over the years, empty boxes, exercise equipment, yard tools, furniture, old televisions long put out to pasture happily grazing among the wreckage, you get the picture. We start sifting and sorting and at one point I was worried we might actually find Jimmy Hoffa's remains, (we're not the first owners). The whole point of this cleansing was for me to create an exercise space that I wouldn't need GPS tracking to locate. We're slowly making progress and low and behold under a pile of old newspapers, magazines and cobwebs, there it is, my trusty treadmill, none the worse for the wear and tear, well to be really honest there really hasn't been a lot of wear. So I now have my little nook complete with TV, a small table and chair and I've scattered some small area rugs to give it a "homey look". I've hung up two posters on the wall, one of Saku, the other Kovy (no, they're not wearing thongs, they're in uniform on skates in case anyone is wondering) to give me inspiration, I've placed my little Habs piggy bank on the table and I've made a promise to myself that each time I exercise I will drop a toonie in as incentive. When I drop the pesky pounds, I'll buy myself a little reward.
Wish me luck, I'll need it but somehow I know the memories of those horrendous hose have been deeply rooted in my subconscious and will be the ultimate key to my success.
Happy New Year all!