Tuesday, January 25, 2011
...this is the word I'm echoing in my head this week. Planning I can do. Even in my darkest moments, I can plan up a storm. I have grand schemes and ideas and dreams, and I can sit down for hours and write out just HOW I plan to get from point A to point B. The problem, at least lately, has been follow-through.
In my blog yesterday, I set this plan:
Workout Plan for the week of January 24th-29th
Monday - 30 minutes Cardio / 30 minutes ST
Tuesday - Zumba
Wednesday - 30 minutes Cardio / 30 minutes ST
Thursday - Line Dancing/Zumba
Friday - 45 minutes Cardio / 45 minutes ST
Saturday - 60 minutes cardio, minimum
I can now proudly report that I have earned my first for the week!
Last night, at around 4pm or so, the usual "how to get out of going to the gym" excuses started in my head. I heard them, but I refused to listen. I was going. Period. And apparently, simply turning the voice on mute did me well. After work I drove to my gym, I swiped my card without thinking I had to for the insurance program, and I retreated to the locker room to put on my power gear.
FYI - Power Gear = Workout Clothes
The gym was crowded, yet that didn't stop me. I looked around -- treadmills all taken, my two favorite ellipticals in use, my backup elliptical occupied, and the rowing machine was in full row. No worries. I filled my water bottle and walked to the first open machine I could find. It worked out it was an elliptical machine, one of the models I generally shy away from because they tend to get noisy. I didn't care. I put on my headphones, set my music to simply shuffle, started with Apocolyptica's version of Unforgiven and set the machine to the cross training function with the big hill in the middle. Time set: 30 minutes.
For the first time in a long time, I was quickly powering through my workout. I didn't really notice the time until about 20 minutes in...or, what I mean is, I didn't check to see "how much longer?" until about 20 minutes in (lately it's been about 2 minutes in and I want to go home!). I powered through and ended up with a 30 minute workout and 5 minute cool down that I could be proud of.
Cross Training 2
Average Pace of about 135
427.9 calories burned
I walked around the track a few times to get my legs back under me, and then stretched and checked the time before I started strength training. 30 minutes is what I promised myself. I started on the cable machine with lat and tricep work and when I got bored with that I moved on to another part of the gym. I did squats with one of those exercise balls behind me. 2 sets of 15. I did 16 walking lunges (on each leg) with the 6 pound medicine ball in my hands. And then I got bored again. I carried the 6 pound medicine ball to the ab reclining bench. I tried not to stress that I could only do 2 sets of 20 crunches and a set of 20 twist crunches before I was beat...I guess it really has been a while (I used to do 150 crunches a night)! Instead of beating myself up, I moved on. I did 2 sets of 15 modified pushups and tried not to harp on the fact that I had once been up to 10 regular because modified were getting too easy...I'll get back there again.
I checked the clock. Crap! Only 15 minutes? I was sure it had been more than that! Okay...what now? I went down stairs and got on the leg press machine. 2 sets of 15 with a 35 pound weight on each side. Calf raises too, three different ways, 15 each set. Then shoulder presses with the dumbells followed by bicep curls.
Dang! Still 5 minutes left. I moved on again...back extension machine - three sets. 130-160-180 increasing weight. And while that last bit really did take up my time, I decided I wasn't QUITE done yet. I promised to work my hip. I promised myself that I would do it in the hopes of getting back to running. 1-2 weeks of hip strength training, I told myself, and I could try to run again. I saw the I RUN BondiBand on my head in the mirror and resolved to get in some hip training. I went to the hip machine that would work the specific muscle I knew needed work and did 3 more sets - increasing the weight from 60-70-80.
A long stretch later and I realized that I had not only followed-through with what I had set out to do, I'd done just a little bit extra.
Total tally for last night: 35 minutes Cardio, 35 minutes ST
And while it may seem silly to be so happy about one night, I have to keep reminding myself that each step is important. As I look at the JLo boxing picture on my desktop at work, and as I look at my new page background, I'm reminded that it's not about boob size and what other people think about how I look - it's all about how I want to feel. Sure, I'd love to have JLo's butt and Tara Wood's (the girl in the new background) shoulders, but what I love about these pictures is the feeling of strength that comes through them. The determination in their eyes. The confidence that shines through Tara's eyes. The power behind those gloves, even. I want to feel like Wonder Woman more than I want to look like her, if that makes sense.
So each time I do a leg press or get on the elliptical machine, I'm trying more and more to forget the body I have and the body I used to have...I'm focusing on the body I'm building. And, the truth is, I have no idea what that body will look like...but I have a sort of notion of how it will feel - strong, powerful, and ready for anything.
Monday, January 24, 2011
In 20 Wise Quotes from the Dalai Lama, I found this gem:
"There is a saying in Tibetan, 'Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.'
No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, thatís our real disaster."
I had a bit of a meltdown yesterday evening. Now, I'm not exactly one to promote meltdowns, not really, but sometimes a meltdown for me is a breaking point - a sort of mile-marker for the turnaround in my thinking. This meltdown seems to have been just that. To help you understand, I guess it's best to go back to the events of this weekend and let you know what led up to the turning point (or, at least, what I hope is the turning point).
I awoke Saturday morning at 8:30am. After a quick shower, the whole family headed down to the elementary school for my oldest son's basketball game. Logan, 11, is new to basketball. This is only his second game in his first year in the sport. It took him a while to figure out what he wanted, what he enjoyed and he had several false starts along the way. He played football one summer...and hated every minute of it. He ran away from the ball when it was thrown to him, and he didn't like running back and forth on the field. Last year he played spring baseball, and while he did seem to enjoy the game, he just wasn't very good at it. I think he may have hit the ball one time in a game all season...and I think he was immediately tagged out at first. Still, he tried all year, and we encouraged him to practice in order to get better. This year, Logan decided that basketball was his new sport. I have to admit, his father and I were both skeptical, but since his own tiny elementary school has it's own little mini-league, we decided to go ahead and sign him up. At least it didn't cost us anything.
Last week, while watching him in his first game, I noticed something about my son. My shy, I-don't-want-attention driven son was a bit of a showboat on the court. I don't mean that he was hyping up the crowd, I just mean that the second he was put into the game he was in defensive stance against any player on the other team that had the ball. The same son who walks (and actually does everything) slower than anyone I know, was one of the first players up and down the court. He blocked shots and passed the ball and seemed to be the start of a game changer for his team. His team was down 20-2 in the first half, but came back when Logan was put in to make something like a 26-18 final score.
During the game, I heard myself say something that even sounded weird to me. I turned to Ethan, Logan's brother, and said, "I didn't know your brother knew how to play basketball!" Ethan smiled and nodded. He's watched his brother at several practices, and I guess he had the inside scoop on things. All last week the coach of Logan's team promised to work on his offensive skills (shooting) and, sure enough, in Saturday's game, Logan made two baskets...and he was in the game a lot longer this game than he was in the last. Maybe he shocked the coach a little as well. While his team still lost, Logan felt proud of his two shots and proud of his overall performance. Still, he nodded and smiled when I said, "You made 2 baskets?!" but didn't further discuss any details of the game. (Unfortunately, his father and I missed both shots as we were roped into concession duty out front. *sigh*)
After the game, my friend Anne Marie and I ate lunch with the boys and then took off to Columbus to visit a friend. The whole way there we talked about all the things we wanted to do this year - rock climbing, rafting, tennis. We talked about our boxing lesson coming up this weekend and talked about how we hope to challenge ourselves this year to really find what we love and hate. I remember saying to her, "Let's do it all! We might hate some of it, but we might find some things we love too!"
The wine party that night was both fun and challenging for me. My friend, Hillary, had invited a bunch of old high school classmates. Most of those who came were people I may have graduated with, but didn't really form close bonds with in high school. I was never in the popular group. I knew a lot of people, but I wouldn't have ever called us "friends" per se. I was worried and felt those high school insecurities pop back up into my head.
We had a total of something like 10 girls that night. I knew I had AM, Hillary, and a good friend, Joanna, to cling to, but I also really wanted to get to know these high school girls as adults now. We talked about what we were doing now, our spouses and children, where we lived, where the road had taken us. And through all of that, I kept feeling the, "I'm the saddest excuse for a person here" monster talking to me in my head.
I promise I tried to ignore it, but I kept hearing it tell me how I had wasted my senior year, how I had withdrawn and had little to no high school experiences because I was busy being pregnant and trying to figure out what my life was about to become. I remember it telling me that I still had a sorry excuse for a job, even though I'm currently (impatiently) waiting on a promotion to go through here at work. I remember it telling me way too many times, "You are still the fattest person in the room." And, as I told my husband last night, in my mind, fat = ugly, so I automatically assumed that I was also the ugliest person in the room (although my husband strongly disagreed with me on that one).
I tried not to let the voice influence me. I hated every picture, but pretended I didn't care. I danced in the living room with Hillary's 7 year old while she was playing Just Dance 2, and there was a certain freedom in doing what I wanted and not caring what the people around me thought. (Turns out they thought it was hilarious and wanted to take pictures...more pictures for me to secretly hate.)
Also that night, this comment was made: "Man, Esther! Your boobs look HUGE in this picture." That one would stick with me...
The next day, AM and I went shopping. I found a bunch of clothes - XL and XXL shirts from Old Navy and the Gap that I could never imagine trying on, let alone buying, just last year. And that should have been enough to lift my spirit...but, of course, it wasn't. It was a solitary purchase that broke my heart -- a size 42DDD bra. Yep, you saw that right -- THREE Ds.
You see, this new body of mine has some downsizing that needs to be done. I started at a 52DD years ago. Slowly but surely, that band size has begun to shrink. I've gone from 46-42 since April alone. But what I hadn't expected was that, while the band size was decreasing, the actual boobs were not. And when the around size of the band shrinks, but the around size of the boobs don't, you actually INCREASE a cup size. The difference between the band size and the boob size actually GROWS. So I went from a 52DD to a 42DDD, and it killed me to buy that bra (although it was adorable...and on sale from like 40 bucks to 19.99).
Of course, the hubs thinks it's awesome and has nothing negative to say. But something in my head keeps mocking me. "You get smaller AND get bigger at the same time! HAHAHA!" It's quite annoying. Other mocking tones came too. My hair needs cut badly...it looks horrible. My muscle has melted away after weeks of disuse. This one was strange for me -- my hair is no longer red, something I once both hated and secretly had pride in. Oh, and that's not even considering the comment from my husband of, "So who is the strawberry blonde girl in the pictures?" *sigh* This one comment automatically set off a, "Your husband doesn't think you're pretty" tirade which lasted most of the drive home.
I got home last night around 6pm or so. I was tired and hungry since I hadn't eaten since about 11am. I grabbed the boys and headed out for Chinese. But I couldn't eat much. I was too upset. Hubs was worried. He said he hadn't seen me this way in a long time and he was seriously concerned. "I'm just a mess," I told him. I didn't want him to worry, but I needed to work through it all in my head. I needed to quiet the monster. I had my meltdown and then went to bed after setting out my gym clothes for the next day, resolved to get back at the one thing I knew made me feel like I was worth something.
'Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.'
My tragedy was in my own mind...it was the loss, or rather the suppression, of hope. I thought I was done for - that I had done all I could and would never be anything. My (horrible) father once told me I would never amount to anything and no one would ever love me, and in my darkest hour, that comment becomes my mantra...and that was my tragedy. Last night as my husband kissed me goodnight, he said, "I'm glad you're home. I missed you." And my reply was simply, "I've been missing me too."
That was the problem. I had lost myself again...and I needed to find myself. As I drifted off to sleep, I recounted the conversations I had had with AM about our "Year of Adventures" and reminded myself how long it took Logan to find something he was good at...and I decided that I was done missing myself.
Now, I can't say that I'm going to do everything right from here on out. That would be silly and stupid to think. I can't even promise I'm going to make the most amazing quick comeback ever. But I've made the following promises to myself:
* Do what you love.
* Do what you do.
* Go to the gym every day, even if you just walk in and walk back out, just get in the habit of going again.
* Go back to Zumba. You love it, and you have to do what you love.
* Make a plan and follow it, even when you don't want to.
* Forgive yourself.
That last one is going to be hard. I tend to harp on what I've done wrong. But, like many of my friends who are starting over yet again, I think I've come to the conclusion that I'm doing the same. How fitting, considering when I started in April, it was following a weekend trip to my friend Hillary's house, in which we experienced a wine tasting. (Maybe wine has medicinal mental properties none of us have ever thought about!! *lol*)
Workout Plan for the week of January 24th-29th
Monday - 30 minutes Cardio / 30 minutes ST
Tuesday - Zumba
Wednesday - 30 minutes Cardio / 30 minutes ST
Thursday - Line Dancing/Zumba
Friday - 45 minutes Cardio / 45 minutes ST
Saturday - 60 minutes cardio, minimum
Friday, January 21, 2011
Actually, at least 90% of them understand better than you think.
But most of that 90% don't understand what it's like to be THIS overweight.
You know better. First of all, there is a large portion that DOES understand what it's like to have more than 60-80-or even 100 pounds to lose. Second of all, who do you think you are?
I'm me. And nobody understands me.
What do you think makes you so special? How is your journey so much different than theirs? Why is your story more unique? Don't you have respect for the struggles they have face, especially when so many of those struggles are the same or, at least, similar.
Well, it's just... I'm not saying I'm special or anything... but I do have a certain unique set of circumstances. I mean, how many of them started out at over 400 pounds?
Quite a few of them actually.
Yeah, well all of them are skinnier than me now...and it was easier for them than it was for me.
Oh, now I know you must be joking. That's ridiculous!
But I have so much on my plate right now. Two jobs, looking for a new job, a better one, plus the husband and the two kids and the friend's wedding coming up and...
And tell me, what did you do yesterday?
I worked both jobs and I had to drive home in the horrible snow, nearly sliding off the road several times.
*rolls eyes* You slid twice, MAYBE 3 times, and you were never in danger of going off the road. And, besides, what did you DO at those jobs.
I wrote my article really quickly last night! *proud*
Okay, I'll give you that. You worked efficiently at your second job. And the first?
Well there was that big fiasco with the co-worker. I had to do her job as well as mine!
And exactly how log did it take you to do both jobs?
*hangs head* About 2 hours total.
Out of 8? Two hours, out of eight...is that correct?
And, tell me...is there ANYTHING you could have done with those other 6 hours to better yourself? A workout perhaps? Maybe a few plans for next week? Menu planning? Anything?
Well, I did take care of my student loan stuff.... Oooh! And I went to the grocery store to buy new lettuce when I realized mine was bad. I could have gone to Wendy's for a cheeseburger like I wanted.
That's right, and that was great choice. But, speaking of that, what else did you buy at the store?
A single serving Skinny Cow ice cream.
*sigh* Okay! FINE! I bought a thing of chicken salad and proceeded to eat more than half of it, making 2 sandwiches when I should've only had one, and a chocolate bar, which I ate not long after, even though I already had salad and ice cream and 2 chicken salad sandwiches... THERE! Are you happy?
The question is...are you?
*a tear rolls down her cheek* No. I'm not. I could have done better.
And the time constraints of work and family...?
I could have done a workout at my desk, or walked around the building on breaks, or done some ST - crunches, squats, push-ups. I could have put on the Kinect when I got home and had fun with Hubs with that game. I had opportunities. I could have done better.
And what did you do instead, when you got home?
I stayed up too late watching TV and eating 3 bowls of chili with cheese and crackers in it... *breaks down sobbing* I'M SO SORRY!!! I CAN CHANGE, I SWEAR!
You and I both know you can change. You did. You were on it for so long and lost 85 pounds. And then...well, what happened?
Things got crazy stressful and everything started piling up and it wasn't exciting or easy anymore.
But was it always exciting and easy?
No...but I don't know that I ever remember it being this hard.
*confused* What do you mean? How could it have gotten more difficult? That doesn't make sense.
Actually, it does... sit down and let me tell you about it...
...in the beginning, it was new.
I kept going because I knew hard would fade away and because I could get away with doing so little and getting a lot of return from it.
...and then the races started...and it was good.
I struggled through each one, each time learning a lesson about myself. I went from barely walking, to half-running a 5k. I raced with friends and family and really enjoyed the praise that came for doing what I was doing even though I was still so big.
...and then winter came. The dark, cold days of winter.
Things got crazy. Holidays, work, trips...it felt like a lot. For a while I did well, because I knew that getting through the challenges would teach me something...because I knew I had an 85 pound loss behind me.
But then...then things changed. I let myself have a bite of this and a bite of that...and I remembered what I had been missing. And I took time off when my hip went out...and being lazy felt so good too. I remembered what it was like to have time to just decompress and not think. I remembered what it was like to crumble onto the couch and not move.
So, yes...by remembering, it's been much more difficult to forget again and move back into what I was doing, into what was successful. Plus, I'm still getting compliments, even though I'm not doing anything. I can ride that out for a few more weeks without anyone really realizing I've stopped being a goody-two-shoes.
Can I ask you a question?
Sure! Fire away. *confident*
Do you remember anything else? I mean, have you been remembering anything else?
....I don't know what you're talking about...
Are you sure? Anything that wasn't such a wonderful memory.
No. *looks away*
I don't believe you.
*stares, patiently waiting*
*frustrated* FINE! It's been a little harder to breathe lately...but that could just be the weather change...
Sure. Of course. Anything else?
*crosses arms* Stamina.
My stamina. It feels like it's gone. I don't even know if I could walk a 5k anymore. And my strength is gone too. I'm weak. And tired. And sick all the time.
Are you sure?
Sure about what? Look, I confessed, alright! I said it. I'm a sad, pathetic, weak, fat person again. Do you have to rub my nose in it?
I think you're mistaken.
About what? What the hell are you talking about. I told you what you wanted. I told you that I'm back to being flabby and fat and disgusting and lazy again. I told you everything and now you keep pestering me about something or other and I don't understand. Do you want me to tell you I also feel completely unattractive again? Or how about that I feel like the fattest person in the gym again...and a fraud. Yep, that too. I feel like a fraud, a phony, a fake. And I feel unloved...like nobody here or anywhere cares what I do anymore and they're all just waiting for me to fail. It's been too long. I've had too much success. It was a good run, and I wish I could've gone further, but I can't run anymore - pun intended. *forces a laugh* Can you just go away now? *pouts*
All of it. Listen. Listen carefully.
You think you've failed the past two months. You've seen no progress since November, you think. You think you've lost all of your strength and stamina in those 2 months and now it will take you another 6 months to get back tower you are. I can hear that fear in your voice, and the belief that you don't have enough strength left for that.
First of all, you do. You have enough strength for an entire lifetime. Giving up is not an option because every day spent not living is a day spent dying.
Second of all, you're lying to yourself. In November you had great successes. If I remember correctly, it was the first time you were able to zip up those 24s, no matter how uncomfortable they were. You've been to the gym countless time in those two months. You rocked challenges and saw yourself shrinking...and everyone around you noticed.
The last time you were at the gym? Tuesday. That was 2 days ago. And the week before that you spent in Vegas walking mile after mile. Oh, and about that 5k you don't think you can walk anymore? I have to tell you -- you just did. Remember the 3.8 miles at the Grand Canyon? That was more than a 5k. And YOU did that. Even when it was hard because of ice and snow on the path. Even when Andrea was bugging you. Even when you couldn't breathe because of the change in elevation and the crisp winter air...you did that. You found your footing and you completed that walk and you didn't really feel all that sore after stretching when you came back. And you followed it with more days of walking all day and night! You didn't even take a rest day.
Well, I guess you're right about that...used to be that rest days were necessary after a 5k. But...I rested a lot when I came back.
You sure did. 4 days of blissful nothing that you completely earned with a week of walking, a 5k, jet lag, a sinus and ear infection that have yet to surrender completely. Your body made you sleep because it needed to repair. And, in all honesty, I don't think it's anywhere near 100% again...not yet.
But what if it never gets there? And....well, what if I never get to run again?
If it does turn out that you cannot run for fear of serious injury, you will deal with that. Just as persons who have lost mobility from a freak car accident learn to cope, you will cope with whatever medical issues you have. BUT there's no saying that you can't run again...you just need to train again. And you know that for you that looks different than it does for most people starting out.
Yeah...I hate that.
Hate what? Being different?
Okay, that's too silly for me to even address considering we are ALL different. ...moving on... Your training regimen includes at least 1-2 full weeks of strength training in your hip. You thought when you started running that the running would do the job to get your hip into shape, but you were wrong. There's nothing wrong with being wrong. We learned a valuable lesson. You need strength training in order to run.
*growls* I HATE that I have to do more work to achieve the same goal!! It's not fair!!
Get over it. Those people with mobility issues from a freak accident? They've had the option of even training in ANY way stolen from them. You get over it right now and count your blessings.
*crosses arm* Fine. ...you're right.
So, getting back to it...you train. You train hard. You work that hip in any strength training moves you can find for those hip muscles. And in a week or two, you take a tiny jog to test the hip. If it feels good, you start back slowly...once a week. When that feels alright, you can go back to 2-3 times a week. And after that you can chose to either go back to C25k or find/create a different program that works for you. Strength training, though, must stay in place the ENTIRE time you're working on your running. We know that now. Hopefully that will keep the knee strong and you won't run into the same problem -- pun intended. *chuckles* So, what do you think?
I don't even know where we were going with this conversation...
Going? Why do we have to always be going somewhere? This conversation was a chance for you to sit within yourself and figuring out what the demons are that you've been fighting. It's a chance to confront your fears head on and a chance to realize that you aren't as bad off as you've been telling yourself you are. It's also a chance for you to understand -- if you continue to ignore the problem, it doesn't go away...it gets worse. You will gain weight eventually with that kind of eating and "i just don't care" attitude. And eventually you will lose your strength and stamina and all the ability you've gained.
These conversation with yourself are important because - who else can tell when you're lying better than you can? Who else is better at remembering than you than....you!
But...what do I do with all this information?
*sighs* *smiles* Isn't it obvious?
*shrugs* *looks around* *shrugs again*
Get back on the horse. Stop lying to yourself and get your head back in the game. All is not lost. You need a heavy dose of great, healthy food - a splash of gym-time and exercise - a nice, big helping of strength training - a 'try-it-again' serving of the run - and a good quantity of sleep and rest in between.
Sounds good, actually. But I'm not sure I'm ready for all of it yet.
That's fine. Start with one thing. Or wait and start when you're ready. But know that the longer you wait, the harder it is to come back. Make it easier on yourself by trying just 1 of those things tonight...even if it is extra sleep.
I think I can do that. I'll try.
Just so you know...even trying burns calories....but doing burns more.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Monday - Mid-Strip Walking Tour and Rio/Palms
Beetles Revolution at the Mirage. We just took funny pictures. :)
See! I told you I was on the ball in Vegas...I just didn't say what ball.
Some random guy walked by and handed me this stick of incense. "Here," he said. "This is for you." Uhm...okay. Maybe he thought I smelled. *shrug* (See pic of shrug)
Andrea and I at the VooDoo Lounge - a GREAT view of the strip!
The Rio buffet dessert choices. I had a tiny bite of each thing, but only ate the cannoli and the gelato. If it wasn't worth eating, I wasn't eating it.
Astroturf across the street from The Palms. The only grass we saw in Vegas. ;)
Tuesday - Grand Canyon Trip
Vegas sunrise outside the hotel.
FAAAAREEEZING at the Hoover Dam.
That white line marks where the water level of the Colorado River SHOULD be. Can you say drought?
So, I'm going to tell you a secret....it's REALLY difficult to get a picture of yourself at the Grand Canyon without it looking fake. Serious. I promise I was there! PROMISE!
LOOONG way down!
Ooh, this one's better because you can see crazy naked guy on the outlook behind me! *lol*
At the turnaround at mile 1.9 on the South Rim after a potty break. Had to put down my hair to protect my ear. It was COOOLD!
Hellooooo out there?!?!
Wednesday - South Side tour and the Nightlife
Lions at MGM (there were 3). For some reason, the trainers seemed totally bored being in a glass enclosure with three lions... I mean, I know they do it every day, but come on! It's not like paper pushing! You're PLAYING with LIONS!
Lunch at House of Blues...and my face looks BLOATED! UGH! That long bus ride the day before did a number on me!
Bar 1 - Rockhouse (about 9:30pm, still not hopping)
All dressed up with places to go...
THE reason we started here -- girls on tire swings!! WOOT!
Bar 2 - Carnavale outside Harrah's. With "show" bartenders of sorts and a DJ instead of a band or singer. Pretty fun, I danced a good bit...but we had to go in to pee and that's where we found...
Bar 3 - Dueling Pianos inside Harrah's Casino. FUN! It's where we spent the majority of our time and ended up leaving when the piano players were done for the night.
And, that, my dears, is me inside Bar 4 - a tiny little side bar inside Paris Casino. There were like 3 people there other than us. It's where we met up with Frankie and his creepy older brother who tried to pimp out his brother (even though he KNEW I was married and kept saying NO!). Frankie wasn't as persistent and was actually alright, but his brother would just NOT STOP! UGH!
Thursday - Third and Fifth Wheel Day at Aria and Mandalay
Don't think for a second that dieting in Vegas is going to be easy. Not only does the chocolate fountain place in the Bellagio display beautiful cakes, and then the cupcake shop in Monte Carlo, but even Aria has a bakery with tons of delicious goodies. Other than the cupcakes, tho, and the dessert at the buffet, we were GOOD girls!
You should go see the fountain and the HUGE waterwall outside Aria, though. It's beautiful!
Friday - I'm Comin' HOME!
Leaving Las Vegas
And, for the record, the seat belts in a Boeing 757 DO fit me, and I have to tighten the strap. It's those tiny turboprops with their tiny belts that I need to lose a few more inches for. :P
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The whirlwind that has been the past few months is now settling down (I hope).
Christmas turned into a crazy affair.
NYE found me with both a sinus and an ear infection.
I've been sleeping a lot due to illness and wear-and-tear.
I was saving every penny for Vegas and spent likely every dime.
And Vegas. Drama. Excitement. Confusion. Frustration. It was a whirlwind of emotion.
So I spent the past four days sleeping and/or half-asleep! So what?!
Oh, yeah. There's that little issue of wanting to lose some more weight this year and losing something like none so far in the month of January.
There's that whole issue of wanting to run, but doing a little of nothing in the way of ST so far to prepare my body for it.
There's also the whole issue of missing my boys like crazy and wanting to spend every waking (and sleeping) moment with them, no matter how boring it might be.
So, I woke up late this morning. 7:38am. I need to be at work at 8:30am and I live almost an hour away. I also needed to have the boys on their bus by 7:25am. CRAP! I rush out of bed, only to find that both of my sons have gotten up on their own and, I assume, got dressed, ready and out the door without a peep from their dear mother, asleep in her bed after hitting what she THOUGHT was the snooze button at 6am on the new alarm. (I guess it wasn't the snooze button....)
I had taken my shower the night before, due to the constant nagging of my Hubs as he had hoped to work on the bathtub drain while I slept and, hopefully, get it unclogged so we don't have to deal with standing water that has to be flushed down the toilet to be removed. I never take showers at night. I'm glad I did. I was out the door in 10 minutes and was only about 3 minutes late for work.
But on my mind all day has been my sincere lack of focus for the past 2 months. I have flashes of brilliance now and again and plan up a storm, but I have little to no follow-through right now. It's frustrating. I feel myself slipping. And while I continue to receive compliments about weight loss I'm not exactly having right now, I'm not loving this new body quite so much anymore. I want to see what it will look like when it's smaller. Namely, when the belly flap is gone. (I have discovered that it's come up at least an inch since November, so YAY me!)
I have a plan. I do.
I also have little hopes of following through with it.
But I also have no expectations for this week other than "TRY!"
Yep, I said it. My only expectation is to try.
I MUST go to the gym tonight because I have a meeting with the PT. And while I'm there, I might as well work out, even if I don't want to. 30 minutes Cardio (elliptical), 30 minutes ST is my minimum requirement for myself, because I was doing that at 390 pounds, so there's no single reason why I can't do it at 330. Excuses are for losers.
Still, my head is a mess. Things are in chaos inside me.
So until I figure out what it all means, I'm going through the motions.
I'm showing up and doing the bare minimum, because that's more than the nothing I've been doing.
I feel like Vegas was a loss, but I know it wasn't.
Why do I feel that way?
Why do I feel like a failure for not frequenting the gym every day, when I know that nearly every day I wanted to strangle the life out of my friend, who insisted we keep moving and never needed a break as we walked through hotel after hotel after casino? The same friend that told me that she easily walks 8-10 miles a day at work, and I wanted to gag with an onion because I know I walk like .001 miles to my car from the office every morning and evening? I actually had the thought in my head on no less than 3 times on 3 different days, "OMG! I just want to DIE! I'm SOOO tired of walking!" and then I kept going without saying a word. I just kept going. And I have no clue how far I walked, but I know I'm not in horrible shape, so it had to be more than a mile a day to have me so exhausted...right?
But in my head that sounds like a cop-out.
I didn't lose any pounds.
But everyone has said I lost more weight in that week and returned skinnier than when I left.
And my clothes don't quite fit anymore.
And even the shirt I bought there on Saturday fits me better today then it did when I bought it.
I have to say, that where I be is in a land of confusion and uncertainty.
So instead of planning and figuring out what I can accomplish, I'm going to skate through however long it takes to figure it out by doing the minimum Spark requirement.
I may not lose that much weight.
I may not gain that much strength.
Or I might surprise myself.
But at least I'll be building a solid base to get myself back in the game.
Oh, and I know I still owe you pictures. I was so tired last night I nearly crashed twice on the way home...so I skipped the gym and went home, where I let Shane drive to the Mexican restaurant and finished off all my food and went home and watched two movies before taking that shower and passing out in bed and sleeping in.
I've been tired a LOT lately.
And I've been eating a LOT...constantly hungry. UGH!
But I told myself last night that it's time to remind myself what hunger really feels like. No more feeding the monster inside. Time to feed me - body and soul - exactly what I need.
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