I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville wife and mother with a passion for family travel, (mostly) healthy cooking, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries with you, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark.
February 5, 2015
As I approach my 40th birthday, it has started to become painfully clear to me that I will not, in fact, live forever. The evidence of this is beginning to pile up. Small lines have started appearing around my eyes. My metabolism has slowed. The veins on the tops of my hands have popped up from out of nowhere. And one of my mother’s favorite phrases has begun to come to mind lately more often than I’d like: It now takes me twice as long to look half as good.
According to my birth certificate, I’ll turn 40 in June. I find this hard to believe, but the jerks at the Georgia Office of Vital Records refuse to take my “gut feelings” into account. And so several months ago, I stopped calling them and decided instead to meet my 40s head-on. Last October, I began what I’ve come to think of not as a diet, but as a plan I should probably follow for the rest of my life. Since then, about 80-90% of my meals have consisted of lean meats and vegetables, and I’ve exercised between five and six days a week.
I’m hardly alone here. I know this because over the last five or six years, a large percentage of my 30- and 40-something friends have done the exact same thing. These days, my Facebook and Instagram feeds are filled with photos and status updates from women who are eager to share with the world how GOSH DARN HAPPY they are to be so f*cking HEALTHY.
These kinds of updates make up at least 50% of my feed at any given time:
“Set my alarm for 4:30! Can’t wait for boot camp!” #sleepisforwimps #ilovepain #crazyandluvinit
“Triple workout today to make up for last night’s Hershey’s Kiss!” #squatsohmy #lovesmesomekettleball #legsfordays #flattummy #ifmyexcouldseemenow #lululemon #nocellulite
“Nothing like starting the day with a beautiful sunrise and a 14-mile run!” #mycalvesareamazeballs #fitbitexploded #humblebrag
“I’m pretty sure I could live on these delicious Split Pea and Acai Berry Smoothies!” #healthylife #toofittoquit #almostpukedtho #soylentgreenispeople
“Cold, Raw Beet Soup for dinner tonight! The kids are cheering!” #paleoforever #cleaneating #totallylyingaboutmykids #beetstillmyheart
Truly, I’m happy that my friends are so dedicated to being healthy and fit. They look fantastic and they’re part of what inspired me to change my own habits. But even though I’m totally with them on exercising and eating right, I feel like I’m standing across a wide abyss from these perky, glowing ladies. The reason?
I sort of …
There. I said it. MY NAME IS LINDSAY FERRIER AND I HATE EXERCISING AND EATING HEALTHY FOOD.
And I don’t really understand why I seem to be all alone here. I’ve had a gym membership for 15 straight years now and I’ve learned enough about working out to know that whether I’m running or walking or weightlifting or downward dogging, dancing or swimming or undulating or biking, working out HURTS. And I don’t like pain. I never have. Sorry. Exercising is also hard and exhausting and it makes me all sweaty and I HATE TO SWEAT. Okay? I HATE TO SWEAT. Is that so hard for all you yoga pants wearers (Oh. And you.) to understand?
As for the food… Don’t get me started. I have spent a LOT of time hunting down healthy recipes that don’t taste like ass and I’ve found enough to make my healthy eating goals somewhat tolerable, but here’s the bottom line, people.
YOUR KALE CHIPS/WHEAT GERM ICE CREAM/SPINACH COOKIES WILL NEVER, I REPEAT, NEVER, TASTE AS GOOD AS MCDONALDS FRENCH FRIES.
Seriously. It has become crystal clear to me that pretty much everything I’m not supposed to eat tastes way, waaay better than everything that’s good for me.
In short, I’m exercising and eating right ONLY because I have to in order to feel good and fit in my clothes, not because I just want to because it’s SO FUN. And apparently, I’m the only 39 year old woman in all of Facebookland who feels this way.
But I’m tired of being silent about it. And so I’ve created a few motivational photos of my own.
Yep. I can already tell my 40s are gonna be AWESOME.
Header image adapted by me. Source: David Fulmer/Flickr Creative Commons