Off the wagon, off the treadmill

I never, ever look this happy while exercising.

A couple of months ago, Scott and I realized we were in need of a change. Turns out, the happier you are in a marriage, the fatter you get. And believe me, we're pretty happy. Our arteries, however, probably cry themselves to sleep on their little blood cell pillows. (Would it make more sense if the arteries slept on nerve ending pillows instead?)

So our master lifestyle overhaul began. The usual residents of our fridge like cheese, Tacquitos, ice cream and Vanilla Coke were replaced with lettuce, fish, carrots and low-fat mayo. It kind of looked like that commercial where the corndog parachutes out of the fridge with the lettuce leaf — except for more weeping on our end and less bossiness from a bottle of Ensure.

It was tough at first. We would a hallucinate about dancing bowls of macaroni and cheese or large pans of brownies, dream of the chocolate torte one chef prepared on Top Chef, linger too long on the cookie and chips aisle, break out into a cold sweat whenever anyone mentioned Nutella (OK, maybe that was just me). That was the withdrawal phase. It doesn't help that we watch a lot of food-centered TV, like Top Chef, Next Food Network Star, and several other Food Network shows — not to mention we get Food Network and Food & Wine magazines. (We're addicted!)

In addition to our diet remodel, we began to exercise — 30 minutes on the treadmill everyday. At first, I was less than a happy camper. Not only did this mean I had to give up 30 minutes of precious sleep, but it also meant I had to run — and there is a reason I have never been or ever claimed to be an athlete. Physical activity and I do not get along. I have no coordination, poor reflexes and low levels of team spirit. We just weren't meant to be. With each pounding of my (rarely-ever-worn-before) tennis shoes on the treadmill's ever-moving conveyor belt, I would think "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."

Slowly but surely, we began to see results. No longer were we staring with mouths agape while watching the Barefoot Contessa whip up lobster mac and cheese. (That's a bold-faced lie, but anyone with eyes and taste buds would do the same.) Running became easier and more of a welcome addition to our routine and not a sleep thief. We were feeling healthier and lighter. Clothes fit better, and we felt less tired throughout the day. Our hard work was paying off.

And then it hit.

Vacation.

I know what you're thinking: "But, Jennifer, vacation is a good thing." Yes, vacation is a good thing — a good thing for lounging, eating, lounging while eating and eating while lounging. It's also a fantastic motivation thief. And that's just what it did. While we were in Panama City, we decided it was good for us to take a little vacation from our diet/exercise plan too. Nothing wrong with a week off, right?

Now, two and a half weeks on this side of vacation, we're still struggling to get back into our routine. We've fallen off the exercise wagon. (Is it on the wagon or off the wagon?) Or treadmill, in this case.

So we're in need of some motivation, some spurring on. We felt so much better while we were sticking to it, but now my mindset is that, we've undone it this much, why start up again? I'm open to any suggestions you might have, especially if it includes large plates of pasta and a DVR-emptying TV marathon.