The music moved me...

So, I just recently started this whole "working out" thing. I have been on the treadmill almost every day for the last seven days. This is truly an amazing accomplishment for me! I don't think I have exercised (purposely) for more than two days in a row. Not in my entire life! The really crazy thing about this? The only reason I have finally been able to do it?

This is how it all went down:
I'm in a bad mood (I know, shocker right?). And It's not just a bad mood, it's like an angry and mad type of bad mood. I happen to be home alone on this particular evening, although I don't remember why. So, I'm pissed off, and not one damn family member is here for me to bitch at! It's not like I can even do anything productive in this state of mind! I am way too irritated to concentrate on important things, such as improving my latest bejeweled score, and way to pissy to be social and write "fun and flowery" quotes or comments on facebook. I decide to pick up the crap my kids have, once again, hauled down from the playroom into the kitchen. I head up to the playroom with an armload of toys when "What to my wondering eyes should appear, but a pile of dog shit and piss everywhere!" I dropped the toys on the couch and ran back downstairs, for fear of losing my supper. Ready to beat my two dogs senseless, (thank God they were outside and therefore could not be murdered in my heat of passion) I grab paper towels, rags, a trash bag and a bucket of bleach water. On my way back to the stairs, I see my ipod lying on the counter. I think to myself, "Hum, might as well listen to music while scrubbing the floor. Anything to make cleaning up dog shit a bit more pleasant." I grab the ipod, and along with all my other supplies, head back up to the playroom.

Finally, I am ready to commence scrubbing the floor with bleach water. I have picked up the poop and pee, and cannot wait to disinfect! (I know, how many time must I mention the dog shit in this blog?! I can't help it! I was freaking traumatized! I cannot stop myself). Anyway, this is when I put on my ipod. It's on shuffle, and the first few songs are okay. Ho hum, cleaning the floor, hate my life, gonna kill the dogs, what is taking Tom so long to get home, yadda, yadda, yadda...

Then I hear " Wake up in the morning feeling like P-Diddy"
I crank up the music...
"Grab my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit the city"
take me, take me with you...
"Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack, cause when I leave for the night I ain't coming back."
Oh, I remember those days...

I feel my pace quicken. Scrubbing the floor faster, keeping beat with the music. Then I'm "dancing" with my hands. Making patterns on the floor as I see them in my head. I'm not even scrubbing the floor, not really... I mean, I am, but I'm not paying attention to what I'm doing. It's almost like I'm hypnotized. My sub-conscious is busy with the floors, but I am totally in another world. I'm on a dance floor. I'm young and thin. I'm back in college, the days when I could be as arrogant and care free as Ke$ha.

"Tik Tok on the clock, but the party don't stop."
I remember back in the day...

How I loved to dance! More than once, I was the first one out on the dance floor. If I was partial to the song, there was NO stopping me! I would beg my girlfriends to join me, but even if they resisted, I never cared about looking like a fool, I danced. I enjoyed the music, even when alone on the dance floor. So many friends (and boyfriends) of mine had to be fairly tipsy before they acquired the courage to come join me. Actually, I got hit on, many a time, by guys who started the conversation with "So, I noticed you out on the dance floor earlier"...

Suddenly, I am reminded of the freshman 15. Those infamous fifteen pounds (or more) college freshman girls are known to put on. Moms and Dads like to think it's because their little girls aren't eating the balanced meals they use to be provided at home. We all know, in truth, your precious baby girls are packing on the pounds drinking beer! Ha ha ha ha! So, why is it, I didn't gain the freshman 15?! Seriously?! Hello! I freaking danced my ass off. Literally. I danced and danced all night long! Every calorie of beer was balanced with LOTS of dancing!

Then it dawns on me. I didn't gain this weight because I got married, had kids and got comfortable with the life I live... I gained weight because I quit dancing and never replaced that Physical Activity with anything other than breast feeding for a few months, making meals and "running errands" in the car!

If music can make me forget I'm scrubbing floors...
If music can make me feel young and thin and alive again...
I wonder what would happen if I marched my happy, fat ass down to the treadmill and walked to the beat of the music?

So, I tried it. The result?! 6 of 7 days this week I was on the treadmill, and I'm loving life and feeling alive!

Never, ever under estimate the power of music to move your Fat Ass! :-)