I have an old friend in Louisiana who’s standard answer to “How are you?” has always been “Fat and sassy.” It always tickled me to hear him say that.

When someone asks me how I’m doing lately, I say “oh, I’m fine” when I really want to just mutter “ugh”. That’s pretty much how I’ve been feeling lately. I’ve let myself get fat. Again. And y’all know I’m still as sassy as ever.

I just can’t find the same motivation I had when I lost 60 pounds back in 2004. Mainly because he’s dead and sitting in an urn on my mantle. Well, most of him anyway.

2004? That was a lifetime ago for me.

My entire existence has changed, my metabolism has changed, I have changed. Back then I had a gym 5 minutes from home, friends to work out with, and a somewhat structured schedule that afforded me lots of time to exercise.

See those words I typed above?

EXCUSES.

I pass two exits with 24 hour fitness centers on my way to work. I belong to the gym here in town. An incline trainer sits behind me, needing only 4 bolts I could buy at one of my many trips to Lowe’s to make it work again. I know how to eat healthy, and I know that I MUST exercise in order to lose weight. I know that eating 5 or 6 twizzlers and drinking two glasses of wine at 10 pm after I did Zumba or walked several miles hours earlier is BAD BAD BAD. I’m physically not too terribly out of shape, but I’m out of my comfort zone, and I’m heavier than I want to be. I’ve reached my fat gal plateau and I’m ready to roll right off and land someplace between Plump Place and Skinny Town, USA. Especially when I have a closetful of clothes that I used to look fabulous in just waiting for me to put them in the sequel.

I’ve made the promise to myself to get back to where I was physically comfortable a few times since Gregory died, and I’ve broken it each time. Blame it on laziness, widowhood, grief, whatever, it has just been me and only me doing it. Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame.

That would be me.

By no means am I going to quit living life for every precious minute. I am not going to deprive myself of good food, good wine and good times, I’m just going to try and do it a wee bit less. And I know I my limitations and my expectations are realistic. I’m a big girl, always have been. The Trimble side of the family has large people in it, and I got those genes. I’m cool with that, but I’m tired of broken promises and broken buttons, tired of my own excuses. I’m an idiot for not yet seizing the opportunity I have with this move, a new place, a new town, to make myself new again. I haven’t been completely useless, I’ve lost a little weight, but not enough. I turned down a margarita AND Girl Scout cookies the other day people, so I’m trying! I’ve also cut down on the booze, and I’m trying to stop the snacks and the late night eating,and the quick fix of a drive-thru.

So today, completely out of character for me, I asked for help. I went to a doctor that monitors a program and your health and began that journey. My blood pressure, as usual, was normal – 122/76. My sugar, cholesterol and other indicators were fine. I’m 5-10 and hell no I’m not going to tell you what I weigh, but I am definitely overweight. As the doctor said, I carry it well because of my frame, but I am not interested in “carrying it well”. I want to fling it around fabulously while flames shoot out of my butt and my tiger blood boils. Yep, I just used a Sheenism.

I also got my bike back in shape, put the carrying rack on my jeep, signed up for spring softball, and put my kayak back in the water. Now I just have to put it into motion. At last.

A friend of mine posted something a few days ago that I LOVE and am going to use as one of many tools to motivate my slacker self.

No more excuses. Well, not that many. Heh.

The train to Kimtastic is once again boarding, help me make sure I stay on track, won’t you please?

This is a tough one. I don’t know exactly what I want to do with my life. I thought I did a long time ago, and then that changed. And then it changed again. And then it evolved into being a stay at home wife/stepmom/part-time Mac geek who took care of our home, hung out with her husband, her stepkids and her dogs and generally went with life’s rhythm.

Then life hit a hell of a speed bump.

And I’m back at iDunno.

It’s hard to say that I have a real bucket list because I was fortunate enough to do so many amazing things growing up, traveling the world and having experiences many don’t get to have until retirement or sometimes never. Aaand I’m totally sure I just mangled the English language there. Bygones. What I mean is, I’ve done so much already that I mean it when I say I’ve had a good life. But it’s not even halfway over, if luck and my family history is on my side. Four Trimble women that preceded me have lived to be 89. Yep, all of them passed at 89 years of age. I hope I’m lucky enough to make it that long.

I’d like to go back to school, again, and further my education. Right now I don’t know what road it will take me down. Do I go back to law school? Forensic science? Or do I start all over again and do what a good friend and mentor suggested, meteorology? Who knows. I love my current job, but I’m not sure if it’s what will carry me into my twilight years, and I darn sure am never strapping on a badge and gun again.

I definitely want to travel more, especially out west and back to NYC again and again. I’d love to drive to California, up the coast, and back across the midwest on a road trip with friends. I have been to so many places across the world already, but the two that I will return to again are Singapore, where I lived for 10 years, and Nepal, where I only visited but has had such an impact on me spiritually and mentally ever since. And I want to strengthen the friendships I have with so many that are spread across the US, Canada and even other countries.

In the meantime and beyond, I guess what I hope to do is to be a good person. A good friend, a good daughter, just a good person to know. Someone who people know they can count on, who will be there, who means what she says and says what she means. After going through everything I have in the last 19 months, I have found out that’s what true friends are made of, and I think in the past I may not have been one of those on many occasions where I should have. There’s a song by Train called “I Am” that has a line “Am I the friend I think I am?”  I hope I am now, and I hope to keep getting better at it.

I guess I just want to be a good person.

In the end, I guess that’s all any of us can hope for.

Day 2 – Something you love about yourself

I’ve struggled with this for a few days. Just ONE thing? If you know me, you know how incredibly difficult this decision was. Heh.

I decided that one of the things I love about myself is that I’ve always been fiercely independent. I’ve never needed another person to complete myself or make me feel whole. I am and have been my own best friend for most of my life. I am completely the opposite of co-dependent. Well, except for The Twitter. That place is like online crack. But anyway, that’s not not to say that I don’t need other people, just that if I find myself alone on some project or adventure, I’m OK with that. This trait has become especially handy since Gregory and my father died, as it seems I am the one doing most of the “heavy lifting” here and at the lake. I think I’ve purposely isolated myself in some way of dealing with their losses, but that’s how I’ve always handled crisis, on my own. This can be good or bad depending on one’s personality, but so far it’s worked for me. Not to say that I don’t miss G and the part of being a couple, I do, and terribly – but I’m thankful for the inner strength I somehow mustered up to make it through the last year and a half and I hope I have some left to carry on with.

I credit my family for making me this way, especially the women. All of the most influential ones in my life are/were the same way. My great grandmother did what she wanted when she wanted, including driving a yellow convertible until she died at the age of 89. Both of my grandmothers and my mom are cut from the same strong cloth, their senses of adventure and a “we can do this” spirit passed down the line. I didn’t have “helicopter parents” and was raised to be confident and to know my limits, but not be afraid to test them sometimes. Sure there are things I’m afraid of, but most of the time I don’t think twice about just jumping head first into something. A week in NYC by myself, running off to NOLA for a football game, road trip to Florida? I’m there. Terlet breaks? I’m googling how to fix it. I hate calling on other people to fix things when I think I can do it myself, and I I’ve never lived my life being afraid, and now that I see first hand just how fast things can change, I’m not gonna be now. Leaky toilet be darned.

Next up ? Day 3 – Something I Have to Forgive Myself For …..