Five weeks of my life...

...and this is the result:

Sit-ups/minute: 24 (five weeks ago, FIVE)
Push-ups/minute: 36 (five weeks ago, FIVE)
One-mile run: 10:12 (five weeks ago, 11:59, and it was mostly walking, not running)

Oh, we had our measurements taken once again, too, and I've lost an inch from my hips and waist, although I've gained four pounds. Four pounds of pure, lovely muscle.

And we received copies of our "before" pictures in a sealed envelope after our run this morning. I'm very glad they instructed us to open the envelopes at home.

Wow, those photos are depressing. I thought I looked just fine. Well, I didn't. Yuck.

I always intended to finish the entire ten weeks of the program, but I have to admit I was skeptical that I would see or feel any improvement, especially this quickly. I thought I had to convert to some kind of fitness freak. Well, I have become somewhat of a fitness freak. But it pays off.

I'm even crazy enough to enlist in the F.I.T. program after I finish the next five weeks. The schedule's basically the same: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday kickboxing (45 minutes); Tuesday and Thursday resistance training (45 minutes); Saturday kickboxing/resistance training (60 minutes); and rest on Sunday. I caught a bit of the F.I.T. class this morning before testing, and it looked extremely intense. No wonder they hide it from the 10-weekers.

I treat myself to Coke on Saturday, my "free" day, along with McDonald's. But I've essentially kicked my Dr. Pepper habit. That's pretty amazing to me, considering I didn't think I could make it through a day without caffiene. But it hasn't been the slightest struggle. I have a new affinity for Zone bars, and although I pay attention to what I eat, I don't fret and fawn over it. It was kind of funny last week when Joel was craving junk food: "Don't we have anything bad to eat in this house?", he asked. Well, no, actually, we don't have any junk food in this house. Sorry, Charlie. We weren't poor eaters before this all began, but we focus on the good stuff even more. I don't feel deprived. If anything, I feel more responsible for making sure I feed myself the fuel I'll need to make it through workouts (especially those Friday workouts!).

I celebrated my numbers by adding to my new workout wardrobe: 2 pairs of Nike trim-fitting pants. Just like the ones the F.I.T. girls wear. The same ones that would have accentuated every lame dimple in my backside just five short weeks ago. I've earned these pants, and I'll wear them proudly. I actually don't feel like a poser shopping at Scheel's. I'll actually use these clothes as intended, not just for lounging around the house. Although they are quite suitable for that, too.

The hardest part is getting started. Shutting out all of those voices in your head (I'm not the only one who hears voices, am I?!?!?!?!?!?) that tell you you're too old, too busy, too tired, too uncoordinated, too WHATEVER. I've tried to find something like this my entire life, thinking I could do it on my own. Well, I need a little push, and that's OK. Especially since I'm now more awake, alert, and alive.

Take it from this convert: life is even sweeter when you can endure it and be engaged in it! Go out there and do something for yourself, however you need to get it done. And give yourself time. I always gave up too easily.

Not anymore.