|
|
Project Muffintop
by Becky Brett
Submitted: Monday, September 08, 2008
I don’t remember which of my friends first uttered the phrase Project Muffintop. Maybe I read it by an author much wittier than I and dreamed it up. In any case it totally stuck. Now I find myself constantly renewing my subscription, as if it’s an annual Bravo series. This fall, Project Muffintop started its third season, with renewed commitment to get in shape for a busy fall running all over the amusement park known as Chicagoland on a 5-week opera tour. My trainer is from my local Bally’s and I call her the TLT, which stands for Tiny Latina Torturer.
Another reason for Project Muffintop: Season 3 is this past year my mom was diagnosed with diabetes and now she has to watch Every. Single. Thing. she puts in her mouth. It’s not so much that I want to be skinny (‘cause, yeah. Like THAT’S gonna ever happen), it’s that I like food too much to ever be OK with depriving myself of any of it. Just about the only food that will never pass these lips is Brussels sprouts. Yes, I have tried the sprouts fresh off the stalk, roasted and smothered with butter—they’re still gross, so my foodie friends, you can stop even trying.
My third motivation is clothing. I have some really cute clothes that I bought last year and after one washing they shrunk just enough that when I wear them I resemble Mariah Carey: The Chunky Years. You know the attempt to fit into clothes that are clearly two sizes too small? The thing is, I really like these clothes, so yeah, some extra pounds have got to go.
I am fortunate that I do enjoy many forms of exercise and recently started “running.” I say “running” because so far the best I can do is a seven-minute jog on the treadmill, but even that is up from the two minutes which were my previous limit. When I break that 10-minute mental barrier the entire Rogers Park neighborhood will hear cries of joy. Or maybe just cries. We’ll see.
Working out with the TLT is always an adventure as she pushes me for just one more squat, crunch or lift. Oh, and she makes me write down what I eat. So, yeah, in my quest to avoid watching everything I eat, I watch everything I eat AND write it down so someone else can look at it and tsk tsk me for my choices.
But I have learned a thing or two.
1. You don’t have to do the Really Hard Things all alone. The TLT is maybe 4’8” and 100 lbs soaking wet, but lemme tell you she is my rock when I’m about to fall off the Bosu. And those last two reps with the really heavy dumbbells? She’s right there giving my arms a tiny boost to help me finish.
2. I drink a lot. And not drinking? Is not easy. The TLT wants me to abstain completely from alcohol during this process, and I do try. But then things pop up on my social calendar like….oh…lessee….my 20 year high school reunion? Yep, imbibed a few cocktails there. Hubby’s 20 year high school reunion? I’d say drinks were required for that one. A meeting of my women’s club? OK I was able to abstain mostly, but somehow a half glass of rosé still made it across my palate. Does it count that I’m at least paying more attention to it? And not having wine with every dinner?
3. Hunger pangs will not kill you. I used to get panicked over feeling hungry. Perhaps because when hungry I turn into an unfocused, whiny bitch. But no, hunger pangs have yet to do actual damage to me physically, so I’ve learned to freak out less over them.
4. Writing down everything I put into my mouth has newly motivated me to eat less. ‘Nuff said.
So far Project Muffintop has resulted in a few dropped pounds and arms so sore it hurt to change the radio station in my car. But one day I’ll hand the TLT my food diary filled with lean meats, fish and vegetables instead of wine, cheese and steak; I’ll actually run instead of “run” a mile; and that shirt will fit me without resorting to an all-over Spanx intervention.
|
 |
|