ABS Of Flab

beau coach

Have you tried to do a sit-up lately?  Go ahead..I’ll wait here, sipping my morning Joe and crunching happily on this low-carb, kinda peanut-buttery thing I call breakfast these days. 

Oh, you’re back..great!  How’d it go for you? Sucked, didn’t it? In the event that it didn’t suck like Grandma’s Hoover..please go away..I don’t want to talk to you today. 

This week , I embarked on the 30 Day ABS Challenge.  I’ve lost some weight recently, jogged a little 5K and have recently unearthed my old bicycle for some happy little jaunts around town.  I have enjoyed kind comments from folks on my changing physique .but  have also noticed a recurring theme in their remarks, that goes something like this..”Girl..you better start doing some sit-ups..”  and..”You’re getting older, that jelly belly ain’t going anywhere, girl.”  

Oh, yeah?  Nothing motivates me more than telling me I can’t do something.  

Enter the ABS Challenge. 

Then the Squats Challenge.

Oh, why not..let’s do the Push-Ups Challenge while we’re being delusional. 

Thirty days of Sit-ups, Crunches, Planks, Leg Raises, Squats and Push-ups that increase in number daily..and a husband by my side who I appointed my coach.

Big mistake. 

Have you met Joe?  The guy who entered a weight loss contest, worked out four hours a day and won some money? The newly anointed 50 year old man who just ran a 1/2 marathon without really training?  Mister “If You Are Going To Do A Job, Do It Right ” guy.

So now I am Richard Gere..a.k.a. “Mayonnaise”  and he is Lou Gossett Jr, demanding my D.O.R.  every night while I scream in pain, eeking out my final sit-up. He sets his stopwatch for my plank, while my arms quiver and I complain and curse my weak and  flabby existence, and he cheerily exclaims “Honey, Rome wasn’t built in a day!”  Shut-up. Takes me back to the Labor and Delivery Room where I wanted to punch his happy, pain-free face. 

Don’t get me started on the Squats.  Let’s just say..I need to start sitting on the toilet about two hours before I actually need it, if I am going to hit my mark.  Squats are miserable, brutal torture.  Go ahead, do 50..get back to me tomorrow.

Did I mention that I do all this with 200 lbs of Labrador Retriever  suffocating me with kisses, chewing on my shoes?  I love their go-time spirit, from  snoring couch potatoes to Joe’s assistant personal trainers in two seconds flat. This morning, Beau called for a one on one, Joe is going away for a few days, and he has been promoted to  head trainer..he looks concerned.


2 thoughts on “ABS Of Flab

  1. Well, I’m always hoping for motivation, but the closest I’ll ever get to a 5K is standing on the sidelines, handing water to the agonized souls running by. Anything that insinuates discomfort will see me immediately walk away.
    So, Tess, I will offer you tons of rah-rah and I do truly admire your ability to push through it. I’ll bring an energy bar to you at the finish line, where I will have driven in my car.
    You GO, Girl!

  2. Lots of laughs this morning reading this … LOVED it ALL.
    I just watched “Mayonnaise” and his Drill Sargent a few nights ago, so I do understand.

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