What is all boils down to today is this:
Do I want to be the fat old lady waiting at the finish line with a mouthful of excuses, or do I want to be the fat old lady crossing the finish line in spite of the excuses?
Off to the Doggie Dash!
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
weight loss insanity!
Was it Einstein? I think it was Einstein. I could look it up, but then I'd lose my train of thought, and the way that train's been running lately, I'm better off keeping away from search engines.
Someone, I think it's Einstein, noted that doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results is insanity. I think it's more futility, but what do I know?
I know that my clothes got tighter while I wasn't looking. I thought about blaming it on those calories which hide in the washer & dryer and suck the extra space right out of the fabric. I'm sure I've read about that kind of calories on the Internet; and we all know that if it's on the Internet it must be true.
I thought about blaming it on my injuries which have kept me from getting my heart rate up. But, quite frankly, hand and arm have done just fine lifting goodies all the way to my mouth. I suspect that some of my residual limp is less limp than waddle.
Where am I going with all this? I'm going to make my clothes less tight. I'm not a seamstress by any stretch of the imagination, so instead of working from the outside-in, I'm going to have to work from the inside-out.
And what better time that autumn? No shorts or swimsuits on the horizon -- only blankets and flannels, if our recent loss of power is any indication of the months ahead. Autumn! With comfort foods and social foods and sampling foods. Since society will have us all dieting on January 1, so if we're going to eat butter, cheese, and sugar we'd better hop to it.
Yeah, a great time to fix what's not working.
My best weapon right now is that I want to be healthy. My tighter clothes aren't the issue -- they're a symptom. I've had enough injury this year to last me a lifetime; I want the rest of my lifetime to be glorious, not burdensome.
Eat better. Move more. Ignoring those instructions and thinking I'll be healthy... futile insanity.
Someone, I think it's Einstein, noted that doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results is insanity. I think it's more futility, but what do I know?
I know that my clothes got tighter while I wasn't looking. I thought about blaming it on those calories which hide in the washer & dryer and suck the extra space right out of the fabric. I'm sure I've read about that kind of calories on the Internet; and we all know that if it's on the Internet it must be true.
I thought about blaming it on my injuries which have kept me from getting my heart rate up. But, quite frankly, hand and arm have done just fine lifting goodies all the way to my mouth. I suspect that some of my residual limp is less limp than waddle.
Where am I going with all this? I'm going to make my clothes less tight. I'm not a seamstress by any stretch of the imagination, so instead of working from the outside-in, I'm going to have to work from the inside-out.
And what better time that autumn? No shorts or swimsuits on the horizon -- only blankets and flannels, if our recent loss of power is any indication of the months ahead. Autumn! With comfort foods and social foods and sampling foods. Since society will have us all dieting on January 1, so if we're going to eat butter, cheese, and sugar we'd better hop to it.
Yeah, a great time to fix what's not working.
My best weapon right now is that I want to be healthy. My tighter clothes aren't the issue -- they're a symptom. I've had enough injury this year to last me a lifetime; I want the rest of my lifetime to be glorious, not burdensome.
Eat better. Move more. Ignoring those instructions and thinking I'll be healthy... futile insanity.
Monday, October 8, 2012
new
Much like the butterflies in my stomach before the initial Lighten Up session in 2011, today's butterflies know how to raise a ruckus. In a little while I'm going to try a new gym. I'm already wondering what the clientele will be like, how hard will it be to find the machines I want to work on, and what am I capable of after having been physically & emotionally broken.
It's too bad I can't sneak into the gym when no one's looking. Try this machine and that, build my endurance and slim down a bit before adding other people to the mix.
But as I told myself time and time again in the past, people at the gym are there for themselves, not to pay attention to me. So the best I can do it pack a water bottle and some tunes, make sure my laces are tied, and do my best.
It's too bad I can't sneak into the gym when no one's looking. Try this machine and that, build my endurance and slim down a bit before adding other people to the mix.
But as I told myself time and time again in the past, people at the gym are there for themselves, not to pay attention to me. So the best I can do it pack a water bottle and some tunes, make sure my laces are tied, and do my best.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Enough time
To summarize where I've been since August: Back injuries stink. And that's enough about that.
Since I have had no exercise option available to me for more than a month now, I've had plenty of time to wallow and worry.
And I've had so much time to wallow and worry that I've resorted to giving myself a good talking to. There are some things I can't do. So?
I can do my phsyical therapy exercises. (I used to work to make my trainer proud; now I'm working to make my physical therapist proud.)
And I can concentrate on healthy eating. (So many blogs, so many cookbooks, so many friends with great recipes)
Time to start concentrating on doing what I can, rather than lamenting what I can't. (Is that optimism I hear?)
Time to become reacquainted with my kitchen. (It's on the other side of the dining room.)
Here we go!
Since I have had no exercise option available to me for more than a month now, I've had plenty of time to wallow and worry.
And I've had so much time to wallow and worry that I've resorted to giving myself a good talking to. There are some things I can't do. So?
I can do my phsyical therapy exercises. (I used to work to make my trainer proud; now I'm working to make my physical therapist proud.)
And I can concentrate on healthy eating. (So many blogs, so many cookbooks, so many friends with great recipes)
Time to start concentrating on doing what I can, rather than lamenting what I can't. (Is that optimism I hear?)
Time to become reacquainted with my kitchen. (It's on the other side of the dining room.)
Here we go!
Monday, August 13, 2012
Even better than what the doctor ordered
When I last wrote, I was a big ol' mess. I felt lousy after that training session-gone-kaplooey. And then it got worse -- my back went out, and when my back goes out it doesn't tiptoe meekly out, but rather slams the door so that dishes fall off shelves, windows shatter, and birds' nests fall from trees. My back knows how to make an exit.
In a nutshell, I saw some doctors. One gave me something to make me care less about the pain; the other prescribed yoga & physical therapy. What neither prescribed but I took on nonetheless was a hiatus. The most walking I've done is around a few blocks... with my exuberant 60-pound tripod of a puppy, so I guess there might have been some exercise involved. But that's beside the point.
During my Exercise Exile, I had to fill my time to distract myself from Progress Being Lost.
That (and the blessed relieved from a hotly changed climate) got me interested in trying some new healthy recipes (Does strawberry banana cream pie count? I made the custard myself!), which gave me to optimism that accompanies creativity. My sewing machine is looking less like a monster, and scrapbooking supplies are looking shiny & new again.
During this time of actually caring for myself, I found that my appetite dwindled. How's that for a nice side effect?
Before I got on the scale this morning I thought "It's about time to buy a new scale. We've had this one forever." It must have heard me because the number it displayed was enough to make me smile, confirming that caring for myself is good.
One of the ways I care for myself is exercise. But exercise isn't my goal. Love and joy are my goals, and it's time I keep and cultivate that attitude, even in the challenge of jogging at my weight.
My new back doctor is not a fan of pharmaceutical medications. Instead he focuses on health, on managing our muscles. I'm really excited to have someone in my corner who brings that optimism -- that I CAN manage my muscles.
I don't know how to end this rambling today. I'm just happy and optimistic for the first time in a long time, and all it took to get here was going through some excruciating pain.
In a nutshell, I saw some doctors. One gave me something to make me care less about the pain; the other prescribed yoga & physical therapy. What neither prescribed but I took on nonetheless was a hiatus. The most walking I've done is around a few blocks... with my exuberant 60-pound tripod of a puppy, so I guess there might have been some exercise involved. But that's beside the point.
During my Exercise Exile, I had to fill my time to distract myself from Progress Being Lost.
- I went to the movies with my kids
- I walked half a mile to a restaurant because its actual location didn't match precisely with what I imagined its location to be
- I ate a slice of cheap bread with salami, popcorn with butter, and even 1/2 a can of diet soda (what IS that stuff?)
That (and the blessed relieved from a hotly changed climate) got me interested in trying some new healthy recipes (Does strawberry banana cream pie count? I made the custard myself!), which gave me to optimism that accompanies creativity. My sewing machine is looking less like a monster, and scrapbooking supplies are looking shiny & new again.
During this time of actually caring for myself, I found that my appetite dwindled. How's that for a nice side effect?
Before I got on the scale this morning I thought "It's about time to buy a new scale. We've had this one forever." It must have heard me because the number it displayed was enough to make me smile, confirming that caring for myself is good.
One of the ways I care for myself is exercise. But exercise isn't my goal. Love and joy are my goals, and it's time I keep and cultivate that attitude, even in the challenge of jogging at my weight.
My new back doctor is not a fan of pharmaceutical medications. Instead he focuses on health, on managing our muscles. I'm really excited to have someone in my corner who brings that optimism -- that I CAN manage my muscles.
I don't know how to end this rambling today. I'm just happy and optimistic for the first time in a long time, and all it took to get here was going through some excruciating pain.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
If only I could cry
If I were in my counselor's office right now, the conversation would go something like this.
me (sweaty, flushed, shaking): I'm a quitter. I actually quit a practice jog today.
c: Okay. Why did you quit?
me: Because
* I was hot,
* I was jogging faster with this group of strangers than I do on my own,
* I was jogging late in the day for the first time, having spent a couple days caring for a whole lot of extra lives, and I wanted to rest,
* I had just jogged up an incline for the first time
* I was panicking, needing to cry but not being able to
* I was afraid to keep going
* I didn't want to keep going
c: It sounds like you had some good reasons for quitting, but you sound angry. Why's that?
me: Because quitting is wrong. I'm supposed to finish what I start or else I'll never get to where I want to be. How am I ever going to get in shape if I can't keep up with people? How am I going to build my endurance when I can't even overcome that critical voice in my head? I tried, I really did, putting song lyrics in my mind, but I wasn't strong enough. I just kept thinking about the heat and the incline and the pollution and how tight my throat was and everything I still had to do today. I'm always going to have things to do -- it's one of the things I like about life. Being busy, being active. And there I was being active, and I was overwhelmed and I quit.
c: If you were talking to a friend of yours about this -- if your friend was the one who had quit, what would you say to him or her?
me: I'd say it's not the end of the world, and he or she could try again another day, and they should be proud for trying.
c: What if you were talking to your own kids about this? What if they quit? What would you say?
me: I'd tell them I love them no matter what and that I was so proud of them for jogging as much as they did. I'd hope that they'd see how far they jogged on the asphalt next to a train. I'd tell them I was proud of them for getting out there and taking the chance to be with new people on a new course. I'd tell them that it's going through challenges that makes us stronger, and that they'd already done more than half a mile of something which was scary.
c: And what if someone else said to you that you're a quitter. What if it wasn't you putting yourself down, but someone else?
me: I'd get really mad at that person, and I'd want to do everything in my power to prove them wrong. I'd feel competitive. But as soon as I think that, I think of the 5k I signed up for and I get scared. I'm going to be the slowest, fattest person out there. (But I'll be out there, and that's something.) And I'm tired of being slow and fat. (I've never been speedy; I had to hit the softball out of the park to give myself time to truck around the bases even when I wasn't overweight.) I want to see results. I want to be jogging longer and stronger. I want to be lean and athletic. I don't want people to take look at me and judge me to be pathetic. Which is how I felt today during the jog: a fat pathetic loser.
I really don't know where to go from here. I'll keep doing my jogging homework and I'll drag my sorry backside through the 5k. I really want to be able to jog the entire 5k. Right now I can barely jog half a mile.
I know that I've got a whole lot of good qualities. But how am I going to get past my mental block?
me (sweaty, flushed, shaking): I'm a quitter. I actually quit a practice jog today.
c: Okay. Why did you quit?
me: Because
* I was hot,
* I was jogging faster with this group of strangers than I do on my own,
* I was jogging late in the day for the first time, having spent a couple days caring for a whole lot of extra lives, and I wanted to rest,
* I had just jogged up an incline for the first time
* I was panicking, needing to cry but not being able to
* I was afraid to keep going
* I didn't want to keep going
c: It sounds like you had some good reasons for quitting, but you sound angry. Why's that?
me: Because quitting is wrong. I'm supposed to finish what I start or else I'll never get to where I want to be. How am I ever going to get in shape if I can't keep up with people? How am I going to build my endurance when I can't even overcome that critical voice in my head? I tried, I really did, putting song lyrics in my mind, but I wasn't strong enough. I just kept thinking about the heat and the incline and the pollution and how tight my throat was and everything I still had to do today. I'm always going to have things to do -- it's one of the things I like about life. Being busy, being active. And there I was being active, and I was overwhelmed and I quit.
c: If you were talking to a friend of yours about this -- if your friend was the one who had quit, what would you say to him or her?
me: I'd say it's not the end of the world, and he or she could try again another day, and they should be proud for trying.
c: What if you were talking to your own kids about this? What if they quit? What would you say?
me: I'd tell them I love them no matter what and that I was so proud of them for jogging as much as they did. I'd hope that they'd see how far they jogged on the asphalt next to a train. I'd tell them I was proud of them for getting out there and taking the chance to be with new people on a new course. I'd tell them that it's going through challenges that makes us stronger, and that they'd already done more than half a mile of something which was scary.
c: And what if someone else said to you that you're a quitter. What if it wasn't you putting yourself down, but someone else?
me: I'd get really mad at that person, and I'd want to do everything in my power to prove them wrong. I'd feel competitive. But as soon as I think that, I think of the 5k I signed up for and I get scared. I'm going to be the slowest, fattest person out there. (But I'll be out there, and that's something.) And I'm tired of being slow and fat. (I've never been speedy; I had to hit the softball out of the park to give myself time to truck around the bases even when I wasn't overweight.) I want to see results. I want to be jogging longer and stronger. I want to be lean and athletic. I don't want people to take look at me and judge me to be pathetic. Which is how I felt today during the jog: a fat pathetic loser.
I really don't know where to go from here. I'll keep doing my jogging homework and I'll drag my sorry backside through the 5k. I really want to be able to jog the entire 5k. Right now I can barely jog half a mile.
I know that I've got a whole lot of good qualities. But how am I going to get past my mental block?
Monday, July 30, 2012
Thoughts from the Track
1. Is a nice cool breeze at the track really too much to provide? God? Mother Nature? Santa Claus? Anyone? Now that I'm moving faster longer, I find myself radiating heat and positively glistening (but still not dripping with) sweat, and I can't help but think that running would be easier if I were a little cooler, a little more comfortable. Which brings me to number two.
2. I need to change some of my running music. Too much of it is good spiritually, but it's so soothing that it leads me to envision dropping to the ground and relaxing, watching seagulls and bumblebees. What do you listen to in order to keep your spirit soaring, your chin up, and your legs pumping?
3. My fat is tenacious. I'm engaged in a battle of wills with a monster of my own creation. When I signed up for Lighten Up and for the triathlon last year, as well as for the 5k training program this year, I naively assumed that my fat would flee in fear. Upon hearing that my muscles were throwing a coup, my fat would quiver and wobble away. No such luck. For something so soft, fat sure has a good grip. I'm just going to have to keep empowering my muscles. Which brings me to number four.
4. Puffing away on the track, trying to put a little spring in my step and good posture in my form, it occurred to me that jogging still ain't easy. I wondered if it would ever get any easier. And then I realized that I'm jogging more frequently and for minutes at a time. I remembered that when I start this training, I was jogging for 60 or 90 seconds at a time. Now I'm jogging 8 minutes at a time, in between biking to and from the track. I've come a long way (not as long as I'd like) and made a lot of improvement (not as much as I'd like). And then there's number five.
5. Just as I'm cheesed with the Powers That Be for withholding cool breezes for jogging, I'm cheesed with myself for obliterating my hard work by not recording my calories consumed for the past couple weeks. Sure I'd only be losing a pound a week, but those would be fewer pounds to schlep around the track.
I'm tired, I'm sweaty, and I'm roasting. I'm also motivated to jog the 5k in November (plenty of cool breezes then, I'm thinking), to see a less roly poly shadow at the track, and to weigh less than my husband. So this girl's gotta do what this girl's gotta do: keep improving. Like the GnR song says: I used to do a little but a little wouldn't do it, so the little got more and more; I just keep tryin' to get a little better, a little better than before.
2. I need to change some of my running music. Too much of it is good spiritually, but it's so soothing that it leads me to envision dropping to the ground and relaxing, watching seagulls and bumblebees. What do you listen to in order to keep your spirit soaring, your chin up, and your legs pumping?
3. My fat is tenacious. I'm engaged in a battle of wills with a monster of my own creation. When I signed up for Lighten Up and for the triathlon last year, as well as for the 5k training program this year, I naively assumed that my fat would flee in fear. Upon hearing that my muscles were throwing a coup, my fat would quiver and wobble away. No such luck. For something so soft, fat sure has a good grip. I'm just going to have to keep empowering my muscles. Which brings me to number four.
4. Puffing away on the track, trying to put a little spring in my step and good posture in my form, it occurred to me that jogging still ain't easy. I wondered if it would ever get any easier. And then I realized that I'm jogging more frequently and for minutes at a time. I remembered that when I start this training, I was jogging for 60 or 90 seconds at a time. Now I'm jogging 8 minutes at a time, in between biking to and from the track. I've come a long way (not as long as I'd like) and made a lot of improvement (not as much as I'd like). And then there's number five.
5. Just as I'm cheesed with the Powers That Be for withholding cool breezes for jogging, I'm cheesed with myself for obliterating my hard work by not recording my calories consumed for the past couple weeks. Sure I'd only be losing a pound a week, but those would be fewer pounds to schlep around the track.
I'm tired, I'm sweaty, and I'm roasting. I'm also motivated to jog the 5k in November (plenty of cool breezes then, I'm thinking), to see a less roly poly shadow at the track, and to weigh less than my husband. So this girl's gotta do what this girl's gotta do: keep improving. Like the GnR song says: I used to do a little but a little wouldn't do it, so the little got more and more; I just keep tryin' to get a little better, a little better than before.
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