10 days.  Actually, now 9 days and 23.5 hours.  Probably a little less by the time I finish this.  I can’t avoid it.  It’s inevitable.  Maybe if I close my eyes and sleep through the day it will go away.  I’ll just pretend it never happened.  The dreaded 30. 

25 seemed like a mile stone, I woke up with a mild panic attack and declared I was having a quarter life crisis, changed jobs, put my condo on the market, drank entirely too much and wasted away the year planning out the rest of 20’s and wondering where time had gone and why I hadn’t found the love of my life at East Andrews or Park Tavern---or for heaven’s sake-the gym.  At 25, I was in the best shape of my life (to date) running at least 5 miles a day, working out daily and wearing those clever Nike t-shirts that said things like “Every Damn Day, Just Do It” or “I Make It Look Easy”, or my favorite…”Don’t Stop-People Are Watching”

That was then…  Honestly, I wouldn’t go back to 25, but that doesn’t make 30 any kinder.  29 was the best year of my life, I just hate to leave it behind, and broaching my 30’s I have do many goals still left unaccomplished and so little of my 25 year old self seems to remain.

Then vs. Now

115 lbs

Sz. 0-2, XS

Income—more

Debt—less

Job—prominent and social

Community—Involved

Sports/Fitness—Highly Active

Marital Status—Divorced and Dating

Leisure Time—Reading & Friends

Favorite Thing—Harvey & Shopping

130 lbs.

Sz 6-8, M

Income—less

Debt—more

Job—unappreciated and reclusive

Community—non-existent

Sports/Fitness—None

Marital Status—Married with 2 Kids

Leisure Time—None

Favorite Thing:  Sleep

(Ironic that I wrote that just now, seeing as how it’s 1:00am and I am missing a perfect opportunity with Ken in Charlotte and my mom staying upstairs with the babies to help while Ken is out of town. )

Here is the thing, when I make a pros and cons list of “ME” then and now, it looks just out right depressing…   I weigh more than I ever have (and cringe every morning when I step on the scale), my knees are in awful shape and PT, but I can’t spare the 3 hours a week to devote to it, my teeth shifted completely crooked with my pregnancy, I average about 4-5 hours of sleep a night between my in ability to sleep and my kids’ desire to be awake, I haven’t stepping in the gym in almost two years, can’t physically tolerate the pain in my knee running, my reading is limited to magazine pictures and invoices for work, none of my clothes in my newly renovated closet fit, I have 3 1’s between my ere brows, I never made it to law school, and I have cellulite-not a lot, but it’s there.

The funny thing is, I’m happier than I have ever been, so with that, I find it so difficult to find the time and motivation to keep making myself “better” with the same drive and ambition I had at 25. 

Ken and I battle through weight watchers in February and March.  He lost over 30 lbs.  I lost 7. 

The problem is, as I reflect on my life at 30—I am happy with my life.  I couldn’t have asked or planned or expected a more perfect life for me as a whole, but I’m not happy with me.  As much as I have gained, I feel like I have lost part of myself.  The part of myself that has the will to “Just Do It”

I am now consumed with feeding babies, changing diapers, bathing babies, dressing babies, cleaning up spit up, feeding dogs, taking dogs outside, playing with babies, taking them to Gymboree, the doctor, to buy more formula or butt paste, oh yeah—and work.  I do still work—full time, for myself. 

Morning after morning, I want to cry as I try on item after item in my closet that doesn’t fit.  Still though, I can’t seem to pull the trigger on my weight loss.  I can never get out the door to the gym.  One is crying or dirty or hungry or sleepy.  I can’t run with my knee.  I can’t get my knee well, because—there isn’t time enough in a day or week, and I’m doing good to remember to eat—eating something healthy or low fat—well, to do that I’d have to be able to go to the grocery store, and I can’t do that with two infants. 

But that is the whole point of this, Just Freakin DO IT.  With less than two weeks left in my 20’s I refuse to go through my 30’s disliking who I am or wanting to be someone else in my body or in my work.  As happy as I am with life, I want to be happy with myself.

 So, that is my plan for 30…  I’m not setting goals to disappoint myself 10 years from now, or compare side by side with a different decade and different person for that matter.  My plan is every day—regardless of the challenge, Just Do It.  The gym, work, diet, conquering the mounting pile of laundry and bottles…  A day will not end where I wish I had done more, if there was more that intended to do--but I also will not regret getting not doing enough if I have consciously gone into every day making every effort to accomplish what I set out, regardless of what happens.

Bring it on, 30.  I can take it.