|Zach, from his don't-you-just-want-to-pinch-those-cheeks days|
Although this blog is wholly and solely dedicated to the life of our family, as you know if you’ve been here before, I often wander off into paths that are not directly about the Wilburs, but rather feed into or stem out of our life together. If you’ll bear with me, and excuse the rare but still vain physical self-analysis, I will connect the chubby dots.
I was a thin younger person. It came naturally, and despite the unbelievable amount of food I could pack away into my small little self, I didn’t gain weight. It wasn’t exercise keeping it off; I had been a runner in junior high but gave it up by high school in favor of not ruining my big 1980's hair. I joined a gym with one of my friends in college, but not to lose any weight or keep any off; it was just something to do with a friend, and a way to get stronger, not thinner.
And then came reality. With each passing year of full-fledged adulthood, the great metabolism with which I was born has left just like the original color of my hair: bit by bit, undetected at first, and later dismissed as unimportant and easy to mask. Eventually, however, it becomes undeniable and must be addressed.
And so like the fifty-three other times I’ve come to this realization, I hope to develop a new habit. I’ve tried to take up running again most of those fifty-three times, but as with so many other things, the high expectations I have and lofty goals I set are dashed before I get very far with it, and I revert to the excuse that motherhood keeps me active enough (which it simply doesn’t.)
And so, on this fifty-fourth time, I am going to walk, not run. It’s more do-able, and more stick-to-able. In the past, the only people who knew when I started such things were my family, who love me and don’t judge me when I stop after a couple weeks. But now I’ve made it public.
Fear not: I will not be giving you statistical walking updates, and I most certainly will not tell you details of my weight and such nonsense. In fact, it’s likely the first and last time you’ll read about it. I’m just publicizing my plan because maybe, just maybe, that will help me stick with it out of a sense of truth-in-advertising.