Believe it or not, I graduated with a BS in Finance. I did not graduate suma, magna, with honors or distinction. Come to think of it, the Dean couldn't even look me in the eye as his limp handshake at the diploma hand-off indicated to me that I should hurry my ample ass off the stage and stop embarrassing this fine institution of higher learning. The long and short of it is, however, that after 4 years of college and 15 years at financial institutions I should have some facility in working with numbers and math. So why is it in my efforts to lose weight and get to a normal sized body, the basic equation of more exercise plus less eating equals my goal keeps getting so screwed up? 1+1=2 as in "hot mama 2 go" - yes?
Okay, so the math that's actually closer to what I've been using is 1(more exercise)-1(same/more amount of food)=0 as in gotz, nada, donuts, zilch, nothing. Zero results. It's true - I've certainly been upping my exercise but keeping my food intake constant, if not a little higher as in my very wrong-headed yet hard-wired reward system. It's taken me quite some time to be honest with myself as denial still very much exists in my vocabulary.
So it's back to basics. I've started my food journal again in hopes of getting back on track. The exercise is pretty easy to stick with. But my annual physical is next week and I was so hoping to show off a weight loss of at least 20 or more pounds, given that I've been working on it for the better part of a year now. No such luck. At this rate of progress I should be a member of Congress or Escargots Anonymous or something. But I'm determined - if not self-deluded. Math appeals to an anal retentive like me so much because you can't argue with the the outcome if the input is done correctly. And we retentives are all about doing it just so. Why do you think they're called financial anal-ysts?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Paying Myself Forward
I was going to blow off the gym today in favor of mowing the foot-long grass that has grown in the almost constant rain of the past 1 1/2 weeks. (Looks like I picked the wrong week to put down fertilizer.) However, forecasts being an imperfect thing (it was supposed to be sunny yesterday and today) it only looks like I'll have enough time to harvest the mushrooms off the siding of my house before rain drops begin falling again. Plus, St. Patrick hasn't shown up yet to drive off the snakes (yes, snakes) so off to the gym I went.
I felt strangely invigorated this morning - something that almost never happens before coffee and my hit of speed (just kidding about the coffee). But here's the really weird part - I think this feeling sprang from the even less occurring freak moments of actually having done some good things for myself this past week. I know - hard to believe but it's true. As suggested by everyone's friend, MizFit, I started cleaning the hell out of my cluttered spaces (my brain being the obvious exception) and the place almost feels livable again. (You know the place is spic and span when the teenager complains about it and the Department of Health removes that pesky little notice from the front door.) I also forced myself to go clothes shopping and buy stuff for its style and color and how good it made me look (comparatively speaking) instead of for the simple fact that it fit and would emit relatively few toxic fumes when burned. And of course the best thing of all is that I've been visiting the gym on a regular basis.
All these things combined - after a long enough spell - start multiplying faster than "Law & Order" spin-offs. Doing good for ourselves tends to become its own force of nature and propel us toward the right path. I hope this isn't just some hormonal surge going on today but rather a firm shove in the right direction. Time will tell.
Have a great weekend!
I felt strangely invigorated this morning - something that almost never happens before coffee and my hit of speed (just kidding about the coffee). But here's the really weird part - I think this feeling sprang from the even less occurring freak moments of actually having done some good things for myself this past week. I know - hard to believe but it's true. As suggested by everyone's friend, MizFit, I started cleaning the hell out of my cluttered spaces (my brain being the obvious exception) and the place almost feels livable again. (You know the place is spic and span when the teenager complains about it and the Department of Health removes that pesky little notice from the front door.) I also forced myself to go clothes shopping and buy stuff for its style and color and how good it made me look (comparatively speaking) instead of for the simple fact that it fit and would emit relatively few toxic fumes when burned. And of course the best thing of all is that I've been visiting the gym on a regular basis.
All these things combined - after a long enough spell - start multiplying faster than "Law & Order" spin-offs. Doing good for ourselves tends to become its own force of nature and propel us toward the right path. I hope this isn't just some hormonal surge going on today but rather a firm shove in the right direction. Time will tell.
Have a great weekend!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Morning Outrage
Okay - I never like to start the day on a down note. I generally work up to it during the course of the day when disappointments and overall crankiness have set in. Day 10 or 11 of rain/drizzle/clouds has not exactly set the stage for a sunny disposition either. But here's how it went in my world this morning.
The newspaper was again left on the driveway in a puddle while the little green plastic box attached to the mailbox, specifically designed to prevent this outcome, was left empty again - as it is every morning. Called paper customer service to complain, ask for a dry one and remind them that these are not the best times for newspapers to be pissing off their paying customers. If PaperBoy wants to play, I can give as good as I get. Strap yourself in, PaperBoy. And just for extra giggles, he put everyone else's paper in their little green boxes. God, I hate stoopid people.
Then hubby ignores my note on the garage door to leave the garbage hauling to me today. Love the hubby but seeing as we have to pay the town for our garbage bags and he always leaves them at the curb half full, the little waste nazi in me is trying to control (unsuccessfully) the fullness of our garbage bags.
Okay, I realize I'm whining a little (a lot) but the biggest outrage of the morning was on the CBS Morning Show (you can tell how desperate I truly was if CBS was on the tube) and they had a story about a mother being arrested for allowing her teenage son's weight to reach 500 pounds. This woman was in court - SHACKLED! - for child endangerment. The accusation was that she wasn't doing enough to get him healthier. The woman claimed she couldn't afford special services. I imagine the truth is somewhere inbetween. The boy is now with the Department of Social Services. Now I agree that a child who reaches 500 pounds has a serious problem and it should never have gotten to this point, but I cannot recall ever seeing the mother of an anorexic child in chains before the court. So if you're going to start rounding up moms whose kids' weight issues are out of control then you're going to have to round them ALL up - not just the moms with the fat kids.
So tell me, is it me and my plus size paranoia or does this strike you as outrageous too?
The newspaper was again left on the driveway in a puddle while the little green plastic box attached to the mailbox, specifically designed to prevent this outcome, was left empty again - as it is every morning. Called paper customer service to complain, ask for a dry one and remind them that these are not the best times for newspapers to be pissing off their paying customers. If PaperBoy wants to play, I can give as good as I get. Strap yourself in, PaperBoy. And just for extra giggles, he put everyone else's paper in their little green boxes. God, I hate stoopid people.
Then hubby ignores my note on the garage door to leave the garbage hauling to me today. Love the hubby but seeing as we have to pay the town for our garbage bags and he always leaves them at the curb half full, the little waste nazi in me is trying to control (unsuccessfully) the fullness of our garbage bags.
Okay, I realize I'm whining a little (a lot) but the biggest outrage of the morning was on the CBS Morning Show (you can tell how desperate I truly was if CBS was on the tube) and they had a story about a mother being arrested for allowing her teenage son's weight to reach 500 pounds. This woman was in court - SHACKLED! - for child endangerment. The accusation was that she wasn't doing enough to get him healthier. The woman claimed she couldn't afford special services. I imagine the truth is somewhere inbetween. The boy is now with the Department of Social Services. Now I agree that a child who reaches 500 pounds has a serious problem and it should never have gotten to this point, but I cannot recall ever seeing the mother of an anorexic child in chains before the court. So if you're going to start rounding up moms whose kids' weight issues are out of control then you're going to have to round them ALL up - not just the moms with the fat kids.
So tell me, is it me and my plus size paranoia or does this strike you as outrageous too?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Treadmill Sandwich
Now that I've been going to the gym for a couple of weeks and seem to have lost most of that newbie shine, I've taken to some serious people watching - which has always been a favorite pastime of mine. This morning's fare was particularly interesting as I was the meat (probably bologna) in a treadmill sandwich.
To the right of me was the bare-bones runner. All she brought was herself and the zone she'd be traveling in for the next 45 minutes. Her form is what caught my eye as I noticed that even though she was running at a pretty good clip, she was not moving her arms. They just hung at her side a la Raggedy Ann. Flashback to the Seinfeld episode of Elaine's taking huge exception to a co-worker who walks without ever moving her arms. She quite possibly would be thrown into the pits of insanity by being her treadmill buddy.
To my left was a runner who was in every way just the opposite. This gal was positively high maintenance as she brought provisions for what appeared to be a long seige. She had the water bottle, the iPod, the towel and the backpack with what I suppose was the rest of her survival gear (GPS to guide her back to the locker room and car, kindling, matches and of course Spam). I fully expected her to hire out a contractor and build an addition onto the treadmill. This one was digging in.
With baseball cap firmly in place (it's been raining for a full week and a half here - no need to try covering up a bad hair day anymore) she began her workout. Her running style was in sharp contrast from the runner to my right as her arms were pumping so fast and furious that her fists were coming right up to her forehead. Then at one point, with the treadmill still going at full tilt, she placed one foot on one side of the track and raised the other leg up over the opposite side bar for a mid-run stretch, straddling the 5 mph belt beneath her. This had to be the fitness world's equivalent of unsafe sex. This girl could get hurt but even worse, take me down with her. Where's a park ranger when you need one?
I guess my style was somewhere inbetween my two neighbors. I had my iPod and bad hair and my arms swung to keep pace with my two left feet. It doesn't matter how you get it done as long as you do it. But the people-watching sure helps kill the monotony of taking hundreds of steps in the same place.
What do you do to help entertain yourself at the gym - or is my approach completely wrong in that my workout should be enough to keep my tiny mind occupied?
To the right of me was the bare-bones runner. All she brought was herself and the zone she'd be traveling in for the next 45 minutes. Her form is what caught my eye as I noticed that even though she was running at a pretty good clip, she was not moving her arms. They just hung at her side a la Raggedy Ann. Flashback to the Seinfeld episode of Elaine's taking huge exception to a co-worker who walks without ever moving her arms. She quite possibly would be thrown into the pits of insanity by being her treadmill buddy.
To my left was a runner who was in every way just the opposite. This gal was positively high maintenance as she brought provisions for what appeared to be a long seige. She had the water bottle, the iPod, the towel and the backpack with what I suppose was the rest of her survival gear (GPS to guide her back to the locker room and car, kindling, matches and of course Spam). I fully expected her to hire out a contractor and build an addition onto the treadmill. This one was digging in.
With baseball cap firmly in place (it's been raining for a full week and a half here - no need to try covering up a bad hair day anymore) she began her workout. Her running style was in sharp contrast from the runner to my right as her arms were pumping so fast and furious that her fists were coming right up to her forehead. Then at one point, with the treadmill still going at full tilt, she placed one foot on one side of the track and raised the other leg up over the opposite side bar for a mid-run stretch, straddling the 5 mph belt beneath her. This had to be the fitness world's equivalent of unsafe sex. This girl could get hurt but even worse, take me down with her. Where's a park ranger when you need one?
I guess my style was somewhere inbetween my two neighbors. I had my iPod and bad hair and my arms swung to keep pace with my two left feet. It doesn't matter how you get it done as long as you do it. But the people-watching sure helps kill the monotony of taking hundreds of steps in the same place.
What do you do to help entertain yourself at the gym - or is my approach completely wrong in that my workout should be enough to keep my tiny mind occupied?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Lady Slug-o
Here's a partial list of the bad things I did this weekend. I cannot make a full accounting as I believe I eventually lapsed into a sugar coma about Saturday night. I blame it on the weather; specifically the humidity which is the meteorlogic equivalent of nails on a chalkboard to me.
1) Weighed myself knowing full well it would be an ugly number.
2) Became depressed and assumed the "Who the f*ck cares anymore?" mentality.
3) Ordered Chinese take-out to cheer me up.
4) Added salt to taste to #3 (yes, really).
5) Ate a small bag of Raisinettes (in spite of my self-destructive tendencies, I do still strive for my daily allowance of fiber and antioxidents - no matter what form they may take).
6) Repeated #5 as necessary until aforementioned sugar coma commenced.
7) Put Jillian's Shred DVD on.
8) Watched #7 from a reclining position and threw Raisinettes at the screen whenever Jillian raised her voice.
9) Got a bitchin' good upper arm workout from throwing as detailed in #8.
10) Turned on the treadmill.
11) Watched someone else use it.
12) Promised myself to do better tomorrow.
How was your weekend?
1) Weighed myself knowing full well it would be an ugly number.
2) Became depressed and assumed the "Who the f*ck cares anymore?" mentality.
3) Ordered Chinese take-out to cheer me up.
4) Added salt to taste to #3 (yes, really).
5) Ate a small bag of Raisinettes (in spite of my self-destructive tendencies, I do still strive for my daily allowance of fiber and antioxidents - no matter what form they may take).
6) Repeated #5 as necessary until aforementioned sugar coma commenced.
7) Put Jillian's Shred DVD on.
8) Watched #7 from a reclining position and threw Raisinettes at the screen whenever Jillian raised her voice.
9) Got a bitchin' good upper arm workout from throwing as detailed in #8.
10) Turned on the treadmill.
11) Watched someone else use it.
12) Promised myself to do better tomorrow.
How was your weekend?
Friday, June 19, 2009
Settling is the New Black
It's the last day of school and a half one at that. Grrr. I have many things to do, although celebrating is not one of them, so I'll have to keep it short.
Some people reflect on their failures and successes on New Year's Eve. Not me. No, I have to be different. But not different in a way that people named Cindy suddenly decide one day to end their names with an "i" instead of a "y". No - I'm not as deep as that. I usually trip down Memory Lane on the last day of school when I realize just how little I did with the time I had (past tense now).
I should be in Onederland by now. It was a goal of mine for the end of 2008. Then by Mother's Day 2009. Now it's by my birthday in August. (Please note I did not specify which year.) Notice a pattern here? I am stuck and stuck good. My physical is in 2 weeks and I so wanted to blow my doctor away with my incredible weight loss. I'll have to settle for being just down a little more than last year. And given how much I hate to settle, it's amazing at just how often I do it.
Granted, I have a 51 year old metabolism and it is harder than Sling Blade's skull to move one pound of fat off this frame. That the progress (?) is so slow is one of the things that gets me down. But then I settle for being unsettled about the whole process - which is the worst thing I could do. I should take the advice I so freely give my son which is, "It ain't gonna happen by itself, ya know!" (And I wonder why his grades in English are on the low side.)
Why do I settle for less so much of the time? Maybe deep down somewhere I feel I don't deserve the best, which is just messed up. Sorry - I don't mean to go all Dr. Phil on you but I think the only way around this feeling is to drive a dump truck loaded with TNT right through it. I feel just on the edge of pushing through a lot of barriers but it's like I'm waiting to be granted permission to do it when I should be kicking ass and taking names. I think pushing myself beyond my usual boundaries is going to get ugly and make me VERY uncomfortable. But when I think of not doing it - that's even worse.
I keep making this promise to myself in hopes that THIS time I really mean it. A lot of you probably know just what I'm talking about, which is why I love blogland and my friends here so much. Stick with me. You all inspire me so much and I hope I can start sharing new successes with you shortly. Have a great weekend and Happy Father's Day!
Some people reflect on their failures and successes on New Year's Eve. Not me. No, I have to be different. But not different in a way that people named Cindy suddenly decide one day to end their names with an "i" instead of a "y". No - I'm not as deep as that. I usually trip down Memory Lane on the last day of school when I realize just how little I did with the time I had (past tense now).
I should be in Onederland by now. It was a goal of mine for the end of 2008. Then by Mother's Day 2009. Now it's by my birthday in August. (Please note I did not specify which year.) Notice a pattern here? I am stuck and stuck good. My physical is in 2 weeks and I so wanted to blow my doctor away with my incredible weight loss. I'll have to settle for being just down a little more than last year. And given how much I hate to settle, it's amazing at just how often I do it.
Granted, I have a 51 year old metabolism and it is harder than Sling Blade's skull to move one pound of fat off this frame. That the progress (?) is so slow is one of the things that gets me down. But then I settle for being unsettled about the whole process - which is the worst thing I could do. I should take the advice I so freely give my son which is, "It ain't gonna happen by itself, ya know!" (And I wonder why his grades in English are on the low side.)
Why do I settle for less so much of the time? Maybe deep down somewhere I feel I don't deserve the best, which is just messed up. Sorry - I don't mean to go all Dr. Phil on you but I think the only way around this feeling is to drive a dump truck loaded with TNT right through it. I feel just on the edge of pushing through a lot of barriers but it's like I'm waiting to be granted permission to do it when I should be kicking ass and taking names. I think pushing myself beyond my usual boundaries is going to get ugly and make me VERY uncomfortable. But when I think of not doing it - that's even worse.
I keep making this promise to myself in hopes that THIS time I really mean it. A lot of you probably know just what I'm talking about, which is why I love blogland and my friends here so much. Stick with me. You all inspire me so much and I hope I can start sharing new successes with you shortly. Have a great weekend and Happy Father's Day!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Rambling...
Mercy - I have let some time go by without writing. I'm working out almost every day but still not weighing myself. I almost feel like I'll make more progress by just focusing on the exercise instead of the number on the scale - like it's distracting me too much if I do it too frequently. So in an effort to distract myself from being distracted I've been thinking some silly thoughts:
* Does anybody else sense that the words we type in to access each others' blog comment page belong to a true language and have actual meanings and we are inadvertently inviting aliens to invade our planet by sending out coordinates? (P.S. If we all worked together and sent them Jillian's coordinates I am sure she would scare the crap out of them and sending them packing.)
* Have you noticed that while the word "team" does not have a "I" in it (as so often observed by teamwork motivational speakers), it does contain an "m-e"?
* Does the self-proclaimed smartest guy in your neighborhood still put his garbage out on the wrong day?
* How many times have you noticed multiple spelling/grammatical errors in school announcements?
* How many people do you know who successfully and consistently turn lemonade into lemons? (Bonus points for non-family members.)
* Who else thinks that whenever somebody says "it's not about the money" - it's about the money?
* Is anybody else giving their husband a rabbit's foot belt buckle for Father's Day?
Happy Monday!
* Does anybody else sense that the words we type in to access each others' blog comment page belong to a true language and have actual meanings and we are inadvertently inviting aliens to invade our planet by sending out coordinates? (P.S. If we all worked together and sent them Jillian's coordinates I am sure she would scare the crap out of them and sending them packing.)
* Have you noticed that while the word "team" does not have a "I" in it (as so often observed by teamwork motivational speakers), it does contain an "m-e"?
* Does the self-proclaimed smartest guy in your neighborhood still put his garbage out on the wrong day?
* How many times have you noticed multiple spelling/grammatical errors in school announcements?
* How many people do you know who successfully and consistently turn lemonade into lemons? (Bonus points for non-family members.)
* Who else thinks that whenever somebody says "it's not about the money" - it's about the money?
* Is anybody else giving their husband a rabbit's foot belt buckle for Father's Day?
Happy Monday!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Loosening The Knot
Not that Oprah and anyone associated with her needs any additional mention as they are all quite capable of promoting themselves without my help, but I read an article in O magazine by Martha Beck entitled, "The Easier Way to Diet". In the old days I would immediately buy up ANY magazine that held the promise of miracle diets and/or exercise. It was like emotional meth. I just HAD to have it and discover how the newly thin did it, rather than taking stock of my own life. Cut and paste what they had done right over what I was - and still am - doing wrong.
I know all the proper diet and exercise that's required to lose weight. I have intellectualized all of that but have not but it in motion. I have the means but not the mojo. Beck's article claims that you can "relax" your way to a normal weight. Hmmm - no sweat, diet or humiliation involved? I'm in!! Okay, that's oversimplifying it but suffice to say that some of us horizontally challenged folks have a bigger problem in our heads versus in our butts. I get what she's saying about not placing endless pressure on ourselves by trying to force the physical and nutritional equations on us when mentally we're not ready. It's like trying to loosen a tight knot when someone's still pulling on it. It's just not going to happen. You've got to loosen the pull on it first before you can untie the knot/lose the weight - which makes perfect sense to me.
So among other things on my plate (there go the food references again!) I'm going to try to figure out a way to lighten up emotionally as I believe that's where the crux of my problem is. For me it's filling the void with something other than food and I have come up with a "Plan"; which I'm still developing and not quite prepared to write about just now but will update as to its progress. I hope it will help me deal with my biggest issue: living up to my potential. I've underwhelmed myself with what I've accomplished lately and it's time for a change. Once I start utilizing the skills I have and were meant to develop, the happier I'll be, the weight will melt away.
What do you think - does this make any sense to you?
I know all the proper diet and exercise that's required to lose weight. I have intellectualized all of that but have not but it in motion. I have the means but not the mojo. Beck's article claims that you can "relax" your way to a normal weight. Hmmm - no sweat, diet or humiliation involved? I'm in!! Okay, that's oversimplifying it but suffice to say that some of us horizontally challenged folks have a bigger problem in our heads versus in our butts. I get what she's saying about not placing endless pressure on ourselves by trying to force the physical and nutritional equations on us when mentally we're not ready. It's like trying to loosen a tight knot when someone's still pulling on it. It's just not going to happen. You've got to loosen the pull on it first before you can untie the knot/lose the weight - which makes perfect sense to me.
So among other things on my plate (there go the food references again!) I'm going to try to figure out a way to lighten up emotionally as I believe that's where the crux of my problem is. For me it's filling the void with something other than food and I have come up with a "Plan"; which I'm still developing and not quite prepared to write about just now but will update as to its progress. I hope it will help me deal with my biggest issue: living up to my potential. I've underwhelmed myself with what I've accomplished lately and it's time for a change. Once I start utilizing the skills I have and were meant to develop, the happier I'll be, the weight will melt away.
What do you think - does this make any sense to you?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Working It Out
Thanks to everyone who commented about my dilemma last week. Your good wishes were truly appreciated. Turns out it was merely an orange alert and not the red alert I was anticipating. Still.....just because we dodged this bullet doesn't mean there's not one out there with our name on it. But enough Charlie Brown-isms - the crisis has passed for now.
I went to the gym this morning to do some weights and was a little bummed out that so many men were there at the same time. Last week I practically had the place to myself, which is just how I like it when I'm stuffing 10 pounds of flour into my 5 pound sack (otherwise know as "stretchy gym clothes"). I am still very self-conscious as it seems I am the biggest one there and feel as if I draw attention to myself based on that fact alone. It's probably just my imagination. But as I did the hip abductor/adductor machine (should be called "OB/gym" for the oh so ladylike spread eagle positioning required), I could not help but feel as if I were getting my annual pap smear and the doctor had left the exam room door wide open (among other things) for all to see. Sheesh - could we at least get a curtain installed or something? Maybe a little apron for us matronly types who still know what an apron is. I was just waiting for someone to yell, "Slide down". Luckily, a gym bunny was prancing about the weight room in full midriff as I began my second set of reps and I could've set my hair on fire and no one would've noticed at that point. I guess these girls do serve some purpose after all.
I began and ended the workout on the elliptical and even though Ethel and Lucy stayed relatively safe and secure in their baby car seats, I found that I next need to tack down my iPod as I currently have it on a lanyard and it is defying gravity in true NASA form. Houston, we have a problem. Maybe I'll get one of the arm attachments, although then I'd have to find an anti-flapping device for the rest of my arm.
I haven't reported my weight in a while and it's because I seem to be in some bizarre menopausal hormone spin cycle that mimics PMS symptoms - only instead of lasting a couple of days, it has been almost a month of sore boobs and wild mood/ weight swings. So to take a little pressure off myself I have stopped visiting the scale. But if you see one flying past your window you'll know where it came from.
I went to the gym this morning to do some weights and was a little bummed out that so many men were there at the same time. Last week I practically had the place to myself, which is just how I like it when I'm stuffing 10 pounds of flour into my 5 pound sack (otherwise know as "stretchy gym clothes"). I am still very self-conscious as it seems I am the biggest one there and feel as if I draw attention to myself based on that fact alone. It's probably just my imagination. But as I did the hip abductor/adductor machine (should be called "OB/gym" for the oh so ladylike spread eagle positioning required), I could not help but feel as if I were getting my annual pap smear and the doctor had left the exam room door wide open (among other things) for all to see. Sheesh - could we at least get a curtain installed or something? Maybe a little apron for us matronly types who still know what an apron is. I was just waiting for someone to yell, "Slide down". Luckily, a gym bunny was prancing about the weight room in full midriff as I began my second set of reps and I could've set my hair on fire and no one would've noticed at that point. I guess these girls do serve some purpose after all.
I began and ended the workout on the elliptical and even though Ethel and Lucy stayed relatively safe and secure in their baby car seats, I found that I next need to tack down my iPod as I currently have it on a lanyard and it is defying gravity in true NASA form. Houston, we have a problem. Maybe I'll get one of the arm attachments, although then I'd have to find an anti-flapping device for the rest of my arm.
I haven't reported my weight in a while and it's because I seem to be in some bizarre menopausal hormone spin cycle that mimics PMS symptoms - only instead of lasting a couple of days, it has been almost a month of sore boobs and wild mood/ weight swings. So to take a little pressure off myself I have stopped visiting the scale. But if you see one flying past your window you'll know where it came from.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Drama Mama
I hate to say it but I'm in a really foul mood this morning. I have a favorite saying that goes, "Bad planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part." This saying - nay, mantra - has been violated big time by someone who should know better and I know if I give in a little (which I have done most of my life to disastrous results), I will get completely swallowed up by it (interesting that even in crisis mode I choose eating/food references). I have given this person lots of warnings about the coming storm but have always been waved away and had my opinions dismissed. This is one of those times I wish I had someone telling me what the right thing to do is - including the possibility of regrets down the road. It is within my power to do something but not in my best interest - which I have not served very well and figure is at the root of many of my weight issues. And this is a situation that could last for quite a long time.
I have done right by this person for most of my life and recieved not so much appreciation as an expectation of more...and I am wrung dry. A couple of years ago I made a conscious decision to set some boundaries to save my sanity and have been firm about keeping them in place - much to his chagrin. But the people-pleaser in me is SO hardwired that the not doing it is almost harder than giving in and hating myself for it later. Almost.
With all the added drama of this week it would be so easy to revert back to the old coping mechanisms of comfort eating - but with another 50 or so pounds to lose, is not something I should seriously entertain. So I have a tough decision to make and neither outcome is good - just less painful. What to do? As Yogi Beara said, "When you reach a fork in the road, take it." Sounds like a plan to me.
I have done right by this person for most of my life and recieved not so much appreciation as an expectation of more...and I am wrung dry. A couple of years ago I made a conscious decision to set some boundaries to save my sanity and have been firm about keeping them in place - much to his chagrin. But the people-pleaser in me is SO hardwired that the not doing it is almost harder than giving in and hating myself for it later. Almost.
With all the added drama of this week it would be so easy to revert back to the old coping mechanisms of comfort eating - but with another 50 or so pounds to lose, is not something I should seriously entertain. So I have a tough decision to make and neither outcome is good - just less painful. What to do? As Yogi Beara said, "When you reach a fork in the road, take it." Sounds like a plan to me.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Gym Bag
Yes, I was the gym bag/hag/nag yesterday but the big news is that I actually went! As part of my new membership I was also entitled to one free session with a personal trainer, which I promptly made an appointment for yesterday to help me ease into the new and vastly unrecognizable fitness environment.
After much deliberation, I had chosen a moderately stretchy pair of pants that mercifully gapped in just the right places but didn't ride up on me in the wrong ones. Ethel and Lucy had their new harnessing device - a fabulous sports bra made by Goddess (how fitting) and each looked as if they were tucked in their own separate baby car seats. And away we go!
I locked up all my new gear in the ladies locker room and excused myself from the fat woman I almost bumped into. I should mention that it was merely my reflection in a very unfortunately placed full size mirror just behind the locker I had chosen. (Show of hands: who's ever wondered who the fat babe was walking behind you as you passed a plate glass window - only to later discover it was you?) Then I headed towards the staircase that would lead me to the personal trainer and my new life.
It didn't take long for my first incident with a despised gym bunny. It happened on the stairs to my new life (which was quite a wide staircase, by the way) when said gym bunny apparently felt the remaining 4 steps were much too long a wait for her to be held back by the likes of me and started crowding me in hopes of getting the fat girl to yield. Translation: my time is so much more important than yours and/or basic common courtesy. I was having none of it. I stood my ground and as she saw the glass doors fast approaching, she was jammed into staying put in second place. Back off, aerobo-trash! I returned the favor by not holding the door open for her.
I should mention that when I made the appointment for the personal trainer and asked for the one my girlfriend had recommended and achieved spectacular results with, I was informed that he did not "do" new member consults. Ruh-roh. I was assigned to Gary - a "trainer in-training" (well, I guess they have to call them something!). Short of a hair net and smock, Gary was everything you'd expect from a trainer in-training; with the exception of being older than dirt. Personally, I'd take him on as my trainer for napping or crocheting but not for whipping my body into Amazon-like dimensions. No. Gary does lawn chairs or Gary does Early Bird specials but Gary will definitely not be doing Gigi. But he showed me how to work the machines and was not overly patronizing; assuming that the extra 50 pounds I was carrying around had the inverse affect on my IQ points.
It was a decent first day. I got to figure out how things work without creating an international incident. This is when setting your expectations very low really pays off. However, for the rest of my stay there I will be setting the bar much higher. I have 50 more pounds to lose and it's going to happen. It's not going to happen with Gary but it's going to happen. Stay tuned.
After much deliberation, I had chosen a moderately stretchy pair of pants that mercifully gapped in just the right places but didn't ride up on me in the wrong ones. Ethel and Lucy had their new harnessing device - a fabulous sports bra made by Goddess (how fitting) and each looked as if they were tucked in their own separate baby car seats. And away we go!
I locked up all my new gear in the ladies locker room and excused myself from the fat woman I almost bumped into. I should mention that it was merely my reflection in a very unfortunately placed full size mirror just behind the locker I had chosen. (Show of hands: who's ever wondered who the fat babe was walking behind you as you passed a plate glass window - only to later discover it was you?) Then I headed towards the staircase that would lead me to the personal trainer and my new life.
It didn't take long for my first incident with a despised gym bunny. It happened on the stairs to my new life (which was quite a wide staircase, by the way) when said gym bunny apparently felt the remaining 4 steps were much too long a wait for her to be held back by the likes of me and started crowding me in hopes of getting the fat girl to yield. Translation: my time is so much more important than yours and/or basic common courtesy. I was having none of it. I stood my ground and as she saw the glass doors fast approaching, she was jammed into staying put in second place. Back off, aerobo-trash! I returned the favor by not holding the door open for her.
I should mention that when I made the appointment for the personal trainer and asked for the one my girlfriend had recommended and achieved spectacular results with, I was informed that he did not "do" new member consults. Ruh-roh. I was assigned to Gary - a "trainer in-training" (well, I guess they have to call them something!). Short of a hair net and smock, Gary was everything you'd expect from a trainer in-training; with the exception of being older than dirt. Personally, I'd take him on as my trainer for napping or crocheting but not for whipping my body into Amazon-like dimensions. No. Gary does lawn chairs or Gary does Early Bird specials but Gary will definitely not be doing Gigi. But he showed me how to work the machines and was not overly patronizing; assuming that the extra 50 pounds I was carrying around had the inverse affect on my IQ points.
It was a decent first day. I got to figure out how things work without creating an international incident. This is when setting your expectations very low really pays off. However, for the rest of my stay there I will be setting the bar much higher. I have 50 more pounds to lose and it's going to happen. It's not going to happen with Gary but it's going to happen. Stay tuned.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Ready, Aim, Aim, Aim.....
Yes, I know, I know - I've been talking forever about joining a gym and actually had the hubby fork over the money yesterday. Today I went in for my photo and official laminated membership card. I have added an additional goal to the one of losing 50 pounds from today and that's to have a smokin' hot "after" membership card photo. I am never going to live this one down. GAK! It's like I need a bookmark to define where my mouth is from my multiple chins. They should've just asked me to turn around and bend over - I think it may have even become my more flattering side lately. It makes my driver's license photo look like Monet at Giverney.
Okay, enough beating up on myself. So did I start my new gym regimen today? No, I did not and that's because I wasn't properly outfitted to do so. New backpack, combo lock, water bottle and sports bra were called for and are on standby for tomorrow's launch. And oh by the way, so nice of the bra catalog to not mention that sports bras generally run 2 sizes smaller than standard bras. That would've been something good to know as trying it on reduced me to tears and further drilled my self-esteem into the ground. The problem was rectified and Ethel and Lucy are harnessed and ready for tomorrow's liftoff.
I have long had a problem with procrastination; even concerning things that on the surface are things I really want to do - like lose weight and get healthier. But it's moving outside the comfort zone that's got me dragging my feet more than usual: new equipment to learn how to use, new people to stare down, getting to the point of not caring that people look, hating the really tiny women who always seem to collect in front of every doorway to exclaim how fat they are, praying for no wardrobe malfunctions (ex: Ethel and Lucy going free-range), but most of all fearing that I'm going to fail. Again. And so am I procrastinating to merely put off what I fear will result in ultimate failure? You know, thinking that if I never start it then there's no chance to fail? Well, that's how I've been living my life up to this point but then I finally asked myself what kind of failure sitting here and doing nothing would be like to live with and it's a no-brainer. Tomorrow it is on!
Okay, enough beating up on myself. So did I start my new gym regimen today? No, I did not and that's because I wasn't properly outfitted to do so. New backpack, combo lock, water bottle and sports bra were called for and are on standby for tomorrow's launch. And oh by the way, so nice of the bra catalog to not mention that sports bras generally run 2 sizes smaller than standard bras. That would've been something good to know as trying it on reduced me to tears and further drilled my self-esteem into the ground. The problem was rectified and Ethel and Lucy are harnessed and ready for tomorrow's liftoff.
I have long had a problem with procrastination; even concerning things that on the surface are things I really want to do - like lose weight and get healthier. But it's moving outside the comfort zone that's got me dragging my feet more than usual: new equipment to learn how to use, new people to stare down, getting to the point of not caring that people look, hating the really tiny women who always seem to collect in front of every doorway to exclaim how fat they are, praying for no wardrobe malfunctions (ex: Ethel and Lucy going free-range), but most of all fearing that I'm going to fail. Again. And so am I procrastinating to merely put off what I fear will result in ultimate failure? You know, thinking that if I never start it then there's no chance to fail? Well, that's how I've been living my life up to this point but then I finally asked myself what kind of failure sitting here and doing nothing would be like to live with and it's a no-brainer. Tomorrow it is on!
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