Saturday, April 09, 2011
Thank you all for your comments on my Step 1 blog. Yes, my head has been a mess. And, yes, I've been thinking over what I can do to get past that. I haven't worked out in two days. I haven't been following any plan other than thinking on what I can do to change where I'm at and figuring out what my reasons are for continuing. Sometimes it's important to step back and remember life before and life now so you can see where your life is going.
Let's address the first issue - devaluing myself.
HEATHER_TEACHAH said it best. "Esther, do you think this is a projection because YOU undervalue YOU as a person? "If I can't run, I"m nothing. If I can't stand to be alone/juggle 1000 things/balance kids and health/etc then I'm nothing.." ???"
She's right. I fear that others undervalue me because I undervalue myself. But...why?
Would I think my sister, who has MS and is using running as a way to fight back, is nothing if she suddenly couldn't run anymore? No.
Do I think people in my life like Chad, who is in a wheelchair and can never run, and my uncle Doug, whose MS is so bad it makes it difficult sometimes for him to even walk, are nothing or less than something great because they can't run? No.
Do I search out people on SP who don't run for whatever reason, ability or choice, and think they are doing less than great because they don't run? No.
So why do I do that to myself?
Part of it is because I want to run so badly.
But is my running CAN'T something mental. Is it focused on my not wanting to run? No.
I cannot run right now, because of an injury I've sustained while trying to do so.
Yes, weight is likely a factor in that. My body is broken and hurt from years of inactivity.
But I have tried time and time again. And I deserve to give myself credit for that.
Doc says it's not my hip that's the problem, it's my pelvis. She believes I've overstretched the muscle there and it's not fitting together right because of the overstretching. So when I run, it does its best to compensate, but after a while it just can't make the connections go right anymore and I get that pain - my body's way of telling me that it isn't ready. She wants me to spend the next 6-8 weeks in PT with a group that handles Sports Medicine. She did not once attribute my failure to run to my weight, and made me seem like this could've happened if I weighed 150 pounds or 500. My body needs help, and I need to give it that. For the next couple weeks, I'm to focus on low-impact workouts. "If it hurts the pelvic muscles, don't do it," she said. It could mean saying goodbye to Zumba for awhile. And she certainly said no more "pounding the pavement." She did not say not to run, but I'm taking a couple weeks off to be safe, she only said use the treadmill. I need soft landings for myself right now. She encouraged use of the stationary bike and warned me to be careful of pain on the elliptical as well.
So, if the next two months, I do not run one tenth of a mile, does that make me less of a success story?
Truth? It does NOT have to. There are plenty of other things I can do.
Maybe some rowing
ST like nuts
MAYBE Yoga (though I don't want to overstretch again)
(BTW - I got a compliment from my doctor on my flexibility as well. *lol*)
So why do I continue to believe I don't belong or I'm not doing enough if I can't run?
I said it so well to my husband the other day -- I don't strive to be good, okay, adequate, or any of that. I strive to be AMAZING and ASTOUNDING and MOVING. I want to lead the pack. I need to show people that I can break their expectations of what I should be able to do.
And I know it all stems from those same old unloved and abandoned issues from my childhood. I had to work 3x as hard as anyone else to get any sort of reaction out of my father. Mistakes were punished with spankings and beatings. Good enough or okay were met with no reaction at all. Great was grunted at. But astounding would get some sort of reaction that I was finally good enough in his eyes. I got all As. Hrmph. Okay. I got all As and was the top in my class and won an award. I got a good job. I was always looking for the "good job." It's stupid and sappy, but I wanted to feel like my father loved me...and what I mostly felt was that he tolerated me most days and hated me a good majority of the others. No child should have to try that hard for acceptance from a parent. And it took me 20 years to finally realize that I would never get what I needed from him and cut him off completely.
Most of the rest of my family thought highly of me. I was the smart girl who did well in school. I was good and didn't get into trouble. And then I got knocked up in my senior year of high school and was suddenly the outcast. I don't know if they put me there or I did, but I think we all played a role in it.
I settled with feeling unloved for a long time. It took me years to feel like I finally got my family back to a place of acceptance and love for me. (Odd because I know in my heart they always loved me, but I was still clinging to that notion that they were disappointed which somehow = unloved.)
And then I fought back.
I got married to my children's father.
I found a place to live far away where I could rebuild myself.
I wanted to come back and surprise them.
I worked full-time and went to school full-time and worked part-time as a journalist.
And I felt I had earned more love back.
But I knew I had to succeed in all areas to get it fully (or at least in my mind that was the requirement).
I got "good jobs" from my editors.
I managed to fill the role of President in two honor societies at school.
I made the Dean's List every semester.
And then I graduated in just 3 years, summa cum laude and #1 in my class in my department.
I got promotions at work and worked my way into a suitable career. (Though still not what I ever wanted to do...but I felt it was worthy because of the title it held.)
Only then did I feel the need to hold my head up again.
Is it no wonder I did that again with the weight loss.
A girl who loses 95 pounds = good.
A girl who is still over 300 pounds but works out all the time and is motivated to keep losing = great.
But a girl who was still over 300 pounds and could run a 5k, 10k, and half-marathon would = astounding and worthy of love.
Nobody ever told me that.
I made those rules.
Every time I felt that pull in my pelvis, it was like saying "they won't love you because you're proving to them that you're still too fat to do something."
And if it were anyone else I would tell them - that is ridiculous! You are STILL amazing because you're trying. Even if you never lose a pound. Even if you only work out 3 times a week. Even if you can't do more than 1 push-up. You are trying, and that is amazing.
But, for some reason, I couldn't do that for myself.
I always felt like it wasn't enough because I wasn't shocking people.
I couldn't amaze them with my determination and my ability to run, so it wasn't enough.
I wasn't enough.
And that's where I sat.
The past few days I've been struggling with what IS good enough.
Last night I created another account. A way to wipe the slate clean.
I wanted to try to be the kind of person who was okay with what I could do (or as I told myself "with the LITTLE I could do").
I wanted to be the kind of person who just does what she can and still loses weight and is successful without having to be AMAZING in those standards I set for myself in order to be amazing.
Changing children is somewhat easy.
Over time, the same treatment toward them can develop into their minds a standard for living that they will carry with them for the rest of their lives.
Even after they deem you no longer worthy to set those standards, you've set them and that will follow them through life.
What I'm hoping is the rest of that statement is, "Unless they figure out what's going on and decide to change it themselves."
We like to say, "You can't change people." But I think you can.
What I'm hoping is that WE can change OURSELVES too.
I need to develop new patterns of dealing with myself. New standards for success. And I need to let go of my childish fear that good enough isn't good enough because it isn't the astounding I was taught to strive for.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Last night I sent a desperate plea out to my girls, letting them know they had my full permission to kick my butt into gear. Of course, they responded beautifully - reminding me that I am worthy, that the sucky parts are made up by the end result, and that "powerful" can be achieved in many ways so I shouldn't limit myself.
"I only run on days when I'm feeling powerful about it." ABETTERCHERYL told me. She challenged me to NOT run...to do ANYTHING else and remind myself of the power of other forms of exercise. In my head I made a plan to do a cardio circuit at the gym. 10-15 minutes of each: bike, box, row - with ST moves thrown in along the way. It was a good plan...and then I stepped outside.
The temperature yesterday hovered around 60-80 all day. It was beautiful and sunny and PERFECT weather to be outside. Soon the idea popped into my head -- TENNIS! I would grab my racket and the Hubs and get some much needed tennis time in. That was the plan. And it seems that the mode of operation around here is that plans change - constantly! I went to the dentist first, cried in their chair when I realized what years of neglecting the dentist (I *hate* going to the dentist. HATE HATE HATE!) had led me to (I have to go to a surgeon and get many of my back teeth removed because there's no longer a way to save most of them without dropping a couple thousand bucks...the only thing I could think to say through my tears was, "Well, I guess that'll be a good diet plan. No more chewing for me..."). Let's face it. I was depressed. And hungry because my entire day was thrown off with the dentist visit.
I wanted to go to Bob Evans for a fresh salad and a slice of pumpkin or banana nut bread.
My family wanted buffet.
I wanted to go to the park and play tennis.
Hubs wanted to walk instead.
All I did all day was cave. I could feel the weakness seeping out of me. I tried to be light about it. I said that walking was good. I told myself not to turn on my C25k program - if I wanted to run, I would. I did a few running spurts and it felt like failure every time - but I kept trying. I would give anything to have week 1 back. I would give anything to feel alright again.
Finally, I broke. My right foot was rubbing and I was about a half a mile away from forming a blister. I bursted out with an emotional, "I suck! This sucks. I hate this. All I wanted to do was play tennis and now we're walking and I feel like a failure because I can't even do that right. Pathetic!" Hubs reigned me in pretty quickly and we walked back to the car to grab our rackets and play tennis.
Too bad my knee still hurt from the walk/run I had done. (I've noticed this week that my knee feels loose after a run...think this might be a big part of the hip problem.) My knee hurt, and instead of going back to the car and putting on my knee brace, I just tried to deal with it. 30 minutes later and I wasn't feeling any better about myself. I had somehow made it through a half@ssed version of an hour workout, but I didn't feel any better about myself.
As we drove home, I kept thinking of all the things I could eat my feelings away with. I forced my mouth shut as we drove past Dairy Queen. I walked in and quickly out of the gas station where I bought some water. I tried not to look around too much. Tried to ignore every inclination to let ED win again. And then I went home, sat down, and ate another piece of birthday cake.
And then I ate some of the leftover Chinese food.
I'm not winning here. Not even close.
I'm grasping so hard at finding my footing again, but I keep falling over and over again.
And my body is bruised and broken, and that's part of it.
So what am I going to do to get a handle on this? Whatever I have been doing hasn't been working. This is the biggest "failure" week I've had in about a year. I'm not bouncing back so quickly and I'm struggling to simply stay in the game.
So...what's the problem? Write it out, Esther.
1) I had ONE WEEK of blissful, pain-free running. And as much as I tried not to hope too much that my problems were solved, I fell victim to that hope again...and was disappointed in the second week. ONE WEEK. I feel pathetic and useless.
2) I haven't been eating on plan, and I'm back to eating at home, stuffing my face away from people and swallowing my guilt every time someone says, "Oh my! You look great! What are you doing?" What am I doing? Well, right now I'm in the process of self-destructing and losing all the positive progress I made this past year. What are YOU doing?
3) My clothes either don't fit right or don't fit how I want them to. It's frustrating as hell to realize half my clothes are too big and the other half is too small. I'm sick of fat rolls and pudge and belly aprons - especially when I spend 100x more time in the gym than many of my skinny peers. It's hard to work so hard and then go out with them and realize YOU look the least fit. I could probably box their socks off. I likely have more stamina than they can dream of right now. But when other people see us, they see the two skinny, seemingly FIT girls and ME. I feel undervalued as a person.
4) I'm back to the place where signing up for races feels stupid because I feel like I'll either run some of it and be in extreme pain after, or have to walk and struggle while the walkers around me look like they're out for a morning stroll.
5) I spend more time alone now than I ever have before. Hours at the gym - most of them alone. I pay for Hubs' membership every month, but I can only count on him being there once or twice a week - and he's usually hurrying me on to get home so he can play video games. Is it too much to ask to have time with him AND time at the gym? I don't get to see my kids but for about 30 minutes in the morning and an hour at night. And the weekends (even 3-day weekends) don't seem to making up for that because I'm always trying to get something done or going somewhere - many times without them. I haven't seen my mother for months (save for a few hours last month on my way to MN). My ONE friend who lives anywhere nearby is BUSY and many of the other friends I have dropped me for whatever reason. I have friends in cyber land who have defriended me and left me alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. I've NEVER been good at handling being alone.
These past few days I wake up with a "this is the day!" outlook, and by lunchtime I'm thinking, "FML!"
I hurt ALL OVER.
I'm not seeing results.
And I feel like I'm drowning.
Trust me, I'm trying to pull myself out. Part of me feels like the biggest failure in the world for admitting to you, once again, that I haven't figured out the secret to getting myself over this hump. I HATE letting people down but, more than anything, I hate letting myself down. I don't like to be the person who whines "this sucks!" because I've always been taught to just suck it up. I was told I cried too much, felt too much, talked too much. I was supposed to be a different person - a person who could handle anything, a person who didn't complain or argue, a person who just simply did what they were told or what they should without people having to take time out of their busy lives, burdened by me, to TELL ME what was required and/or needed.
I tried being that person...and now I'm exhausted.
It's not all doom and gloom.
I started thinking yesterday that maybe C25k isn't for me. *shrug* Maybe I need to start out just running once or twice a week on my terms. (Of course, this makes me feel like a LOSER because everyone I know who has started C25k has either completed it or stopped from being lazy, not from being UNABLE to complete it.)
I cannot wait for summer. I want to effin' swim! (Of course, now I'm afraid my knee will pop out in the water and I'll have another dream crushed.)
Do you see them? Do you see the negative monsters eating my head?
I have no positive light right now that cannot be diminished by a negative shadow.
And I'm extremely sorry that this post isn't one of those great "Let's GO!" motivational blogs that I've been reading lately...but I NEED this to be about me. (And my girls have been teaching me that I have to ASK for what I NEED or I'll never get it.)
Tonight is dinner with probably the skinniest friend I've ever had. I met her almost 5 years ago and we were super close. Me, AM and Sarah - the Three Musketeers. Charlie's Angels. We have bonds, baby! Just try and break 'em! Sarah moved away last July and I miss her terribly. She's coming home for a visit this week and I'll be seeing her in mere hours...and all I can think of is -- "I should've lost MORE weight by now. She's not going to be all that impressed by this pittance." Sad, right? *sigh*
What I NEED to remember is that my friend loves me for who I am. She knew me when I was over 400 pounds and she called me beautiful even then. She fought for me. She's always supported me even to saying, "You are stronger and more motivated than I am." She has come to ME for fitness advice and has NEVER devalued me because of my weight. She even asked me to be in her wedding before she knew I lost ANY weight. She left in July and I was just under 400 then - and, still, she asked ME to be one of only 2 women to stand next to her in those pictures she will have and cherish forever. She doesn't CARE how big or small I am. She has always loved me for more. We have a kinship that goes beyond how crazy the three of us look standing next to each other - Sarah: the blond skinny bombshell, Anne Marie: the tiny but strong Lebanese church girl, and Esther: the rocker, rebel, overweight, strong-headed redhead.
Tomorrow I'm headed to the doctor to find out if she can sort out the hip/knee trouble and see if I can get a referral to a good ortho specialist who can give me the tools I need to one day run. And all I can think is ...what if they say YOU CANNOT RUN. I might just collapse on the floor in a heap crying. I might wait until I'm out at the car. I don't know what I'm going to do...but I'm TERRIFIED! Part of me wants Hubs there for support - the other part doesn't want him there when they tell him how pathetic I am. GRRR!
Let's just put it this way - this week has been a wash. I'm still up from the 323 I showed on Saturday, but down from the 327 I had Sunday after THE BIG BINGE. I'm trying to fight against my ED every single day. Most days, it wins. But it doesn't ALWAYS win. I'm still fighting. Every choice I make has been a fight, and I'm still fighting...and that's the ONLY plan I have for this week. DO NOT STOP FIGHTING. Yes, I may cave now and again. But with each decision I make I have another chance to FIGHT.
As for my blogs. I had been avoiding writing them because I didn't think you needed to hear this crap right now.
BUT... (thanks again, girls, for the lesson in asking for what you need)
I NEED your support right now more than ever.
I NEED to be reminded that while some friends have abandoned me, other have not.
I NEED your forgiveness.
I NEED your sympathy.
And I NEED you to remind me why we're doing this, why I'm here, and to kick my arse if it seems like it will help.
More than anything...
I NEED to blog it out of me.
This may be a triple-blogging day. And none of the blogs may make a bit of sense. But I have decided that hiding isn't doing me much good. I'm going to blog until it hurts, bleeds, and then scabs over so I can start to heal. This is me, showing you the hidden wounds, and attempting to expose the hurts for what they are. Now I just need to find the surgical tool that will cut the pain out of me and the salve that will help the healing process begin. It's going to be a bumpy ride. Follow along if you want, but I can understand if you have your own issues to deal with, or if reading my nonsense will pull you down further. I can understand if you don't want to read the doom-and-gloom right now. But if you can stick it out with me...just a little bit longer. I promise I'll be worth it.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
I spent yesterday trying not to think. I put my food in my tracker and tried to just be okay with being in range (which I was, but on the high end). I didn't think about going to the gym - I just went. I didn't think about my ST - I just did it...all the time anxious about my upcoming run.
While my head is not where it should be, not where it was for the longest time, I'm realizing something. I used to have these "down days" every week. No lie. If I go back and look at my blogs, I can see that once a week, I would get down and think about how "hard" everything was. It's been a slow process pulling myself out of this, but I can honestly say that I haven't had a bad down day since that fateful weekend last month where my emotions got the better of me. So, yes, it's been a month. What's more, I have no doubt that some of this unhappiness is being fueled by that dreaded TOM I was supposed to stop having, as well as hardships over my running troubles and the like. Call it progress, or what you will, but at least it's something good to hold onto right now.
Also - why is it that lately, whenever I'm feeling down, that's the moment people start noticing my weight loss? I was approached by a woman at the gym last night who admitted to me that her and her friend had been "stalking" me...watching me. Her friend, who was still upstairs on a machine, had told the girl that she needed to be more positive about running. She looked down and saw my BondiBand that says, "I Run" and told the girl she needed to be positive like that. So the girl came down and asked me where I got it, and admitted that what she had told her friend she really wanted was a Nike shirt that said, "Running Sucks!" *lol* We chatted, I told her about BondiBands (all the while scoffing...I had put this one on in the hopes of de-cursing it...I had bought it a couple weeks into my last attempt at C25k, as a gift to myself for my dedication to learning to run...and then I got injured and had to stop running altogether. I admitedly hated this BondiBand, but I was trying last night to reassign my attitude to something more positive...)
After I had given her all the information she needed to get her own (I told her that I thought they had one that said, "I Love Running. I Hate Running. I Love Running. I Hate Running."), she turned to me and said, "So how much weight HAVE you lost?" I told her around 96 (secretly telling myself that my stupid gains this weekend have me over that...) pounds since April. She motioned to her friend, who was STILL upstairs on the machine. Her friend yelled down how great that was and the girl next to me told me that the same friend up there had lost 90 pounds. She said they noticed me come in tonight and that maybe it was because they'd switched their hours and hadn't seen me in a couple weeks, but they had REALLY noticed when I came in last night.
Let me ask you...how does someone who's feeling in the crapper about a recent weight gain deal with the right words at the wrong time?
I thanked her and shut my mouth. I realized they were encouraging me on my journey. I admitted that I was THIS close to that 100 pounds lost mark and I really wanted it and that was all I would say in any semi-negative regard. I was NOT going to diminish HER compliment with MY negative thoughts. That wasn't fair to her. She had taken the chance and the time (probably hoping I wouldn't be offended) to come up and ask me how I was doing, to tell me that they had noticed the loss, and to encourage me to continue. I wouldn't dare think of turning that around to something negative! (Look, Ma! I CAN Change!!)
The rest of the night didn't go as well. My ST was all a little off. I felt weak and flabby. My stomach was still upset, but I soldiered on through - working my way to what I really wanted -- my run. The gym was hot last night (it hit 85 degrees here yesterday and I don't think they were prepared for that...it's back to 40 again this morning) and I was sweating like a pig and trying not to die of heat exhaustion -- all this meant that I was slow in my ST, and not really into it. I went through the motions, did the bare minimum, and then headed upstairs for my run.
That, too, did not go well. The length of the runs don't feel bad...I just felt off. I kept coughing due to the heat and humidity in the gym. It was hard to get a good breath. I was dodging other people (which I hate). And my feet and legs and such just didn't feel as good as they had last week. And then, in the fifth running segment, I felt that all too familiar tug in my hip. It wasn't a bad pull, just a reminder that this whole thing hasn't been solved (unless it means I'm so fat that I have to buy new inserts every 5 miles!). I'm glad I have my appointment on Friday with the doctor because something must be done. I can't let go of my dream of running a 5k someday. I simply don't know how to let that dream go. I am a runner at heart, even if my body doesn't quite understand how to deal with that.
I did notice that after my run my knee was sore and loose. That seems like a major indication to me that the hip/knee are connected in this problem. I'm thinking the solution might be a solid knee brace and some really GOOD ortho inserts for my shoes. I may also make another go at a running store fitting, now that I just discovered that one opened up here in Charleston on December 29th of last year. (How did I NOT hear about this?!) Maybe they have a suggestion for better inserts. Maybe the shoes are all wrong. Maybe they've run out of miles (but I seriously doubt that). I hate to put so much money into this, but the thrill of running outweighs my money concerns. I NEED that feeling back. (Yes, running has become my drug...so what?! ;) )
My hip hurt most of the night. Try as I might to stretch it out, the only way I was able to fall asleep was with an ice pack on my hip. My right foot still hurts as well, right around the outside arch area - the same area I actually broke back in HS when I was jumping up and down and my knee popped out, landing me on the wrong side of my foot.
I'm torn between the thought that I should stop running altogether before it gets worse and trying to work through it. Last night I had this thought....
I either need to get rid of the pain, or learn to get used to it.
I would LOVE to go with the first one here, but it may be a factor of the second. Right now, I'm on a sort of rest day. I'm going to try to get some Yoga in during lunch because I need my evening free. My youngest son is celebrating his birthday today, so I have promised him a special dinner. What did he pick? Tacos! (Thank goodness he doesn't mind reduced-fat sour cream, ground chicken instead of ground beef, and whole wheat tortillas! ;) ) So I have a dinner to make tonight extra special. And I really want to spend some time with him, so - no Zumba. (Probably good with the hip the way it is.) Plus, I just learned last night that my oldest son's basketball team is doing an awards ceremony at the bowling alley tonight. It starts at 5:30pm and I don't get off work until 6:00pm (putting me there about 7pm, when it's ending). I think this is one of those times that I have to take off the time and just get over spending my annual leave on it. So what if we don't get a family vacation this year? We'll have to make the most of every weekend instead.
So...I'm not doing so well with the "happy" feelings lately. I'll admit that freely. But instead of thinking over them and letting them ruin my life, I'm back to grit - back to just doing.
Today - Yoga and getting off early to spend time with the boy
Tomorrow - ST and an attempt at C25k W2D2 - if I can't complete it, I will walk at least 2 miles
Thursday - A walk or yoga at lunch again, as my friend comes in and we're going out for dinner
Friday - C25k attempt W2D3, ST
Saturday - OFF (maybe some ice skating)
The plan isn't changing...I am. I'm setting up the stairs so I can get over this wall without a serious injury and making the most of what I have available to me. Most of all....
Don't Think. Just Do.
Monday, April 04, 2011
Grit - noun - firmness of mind or spirit : unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger
(according to merriam-webster.com)
This is all I'm hoping for right now. Just true, plain grit.
I was so super excited to write my blog on April 1st. I felt like I had grown so much as a person in the first three month of 2011 that I had plenty to celebrate. This was all going great until I took Spark measurements and realized...I actually gained about 1/2 an inch in my arms and lost no inches in my hips, waist, thigh, calf or neck. And with one fail swoop of disappointment, I fell apart.
Yep, I have times like that. Everything could be going right, and then one thing goes wrong and I fall apart all over myself. I cried for an hour or two. I ranted to my AB girls and they tried to pull me back up, but I couldn't help the defeated feeling from rising within me. I even considered giving up. And then I wiped the tears away, got dressed, and went grocery shopping and stopped at the new sports store in town. Walking out with a new Nike+ sensor, a new Nike sports bra, and some compression shorts, I went straight home ignoring the "defeatest" spirit in me.
I got home, put groceries away, and put on my running clothes. I stepped outside and started a journey along the side street by my house. I set the C25k W1D3 program and told myself to ignore everything else and just do. (I hadn't bought Nike gear for nothing...) After 4 pretty serious hills (especially "the big one" in the middle) and about 32 minutes, I completed week 1 slower than I would have in the gym, but in a better mood. I couldn't do the gym. My mind wouldn't allow me to go there. So instead, I forced it outside into the rather chilly and very windy air to take on some hills and prove to myself that I am better, faster, and stronger than I once was. (Mission accomplished.)
Later that night, I drove to Charleston and met up with my Zumba instructor and two other girls from my home gym and we began a Zumba Masters Night Class. They gave us light up necklaces, turned down the lights, and introduced us to Diane Felkenes who teaches Zumba from a chair due to serious knee and foot injuries that have caused her to have troubles walking. I ate up the atmosphere. I ate up the spirit in the Zumba-centered fitness facility. I seriously ate up the springy and almost slippery floor that allowed me to do all the jumping and foot twisting that I can't really do at my own gym due to knee problems. We started early, unable to stand still while waiting. And instead of ending the class an hour later, we ran over ....40 minutes over. Nearly 2 hours of Zumba later, and I went home in serious pain and soaked in sweat.
And then there was Saturday. The day before weigh-in. I always try to be super good before a weigh-in because my body can seriously fluctuate for so many different reasons...and somehow I've come to hang all my hopes on a one-day weigh in. It doesn't matter that I woke up that morning to 319 on the scale, be good or suffer. I wasn't good. The family and I headed to Parkersburg. We went to Old Navy first, where I found a super cute pink running shirt with holes in the sleeves for my thumbs and a reflective strip on the back. I felt pretty good. Hubs had been saying for days that I felt smaller when he put his arms around me, but that voice kept winning out, telling him, "It's an illusion, I'm actually FATTER than before." Part of me knew it wasn't true...but the other part was stronger. That morning I got up and took a bra band measurement, since I had noticed my bras fitting differently. I lost 2 inches in that regard, so now I knew where my 5.5 pounds had come from. But I was still lost and not feeling myself.
After our shopping trip, we headed over to the mall where we were met with one of the longest lines for the movies that we had seen. We had gone to see Source Code, and I knew from the number of kids in line that we weren't in much danger of it being sold out...these kids were here to see Hop. We grabbed a quick bite to eat and I knew I was in trouble when I started eating SUPER fast in order to get in line and get our tickets in time. Somehow, we still decided that we just HAD to have popcorn in the movie too, and my fast eating of lunch had not allowed me the time to recognize how full I was...so I overate on popcorn too. Two hours later, I felt supremely sick to my stomach. And I still managed to finish out the night with TWO servings of Tator Tot Casserole, a slice of pizza and nearly an entire bag of Crazy Bread.
Sunday, all day, my stomach was a mess. But a poor weigh-in that morning (323) made my brain shut down and my inner ED take over. I didn't feel in control...and I didn't care anymore. Two slices of pizza, two pieces of crazy bread I hadn't eaten the day before, two bowls of Life Cinnamon cereal, a huge glass of soy chocolate milk, and for dinner? Chinese take out. Lots of it. I had lost my mind...and my stomach was paying for it. By ten o'clock I pulled my tired, worn out, "failure feeling" self down the hall and into bed. I wanted to give up on what I was now calling "the lost weekend." It won. My ED won. My failure-feeling self won. I hadn't been strong enough. And as I tossed and turned I asked myself why I had given up. My only reply? I hadn't given up...I had given in. And tomorrow I would go back to what I knew and stop making everything so complicated.
Last night, before I went to bed, Hubs hopped on the scale. His stupid skinny, I can eat anything butt weighed in at 183. Stupidly, I hopped on after him. I told him I was going to weigh 400 pounds again. It was almost that bad to my self-esteem. 330 pounds. In one night I had undone 2 months of work. I could hear Hubs calling after me, "But it's not POSSIBLE to gain 10 pounds in one day!" And I told him, simply, "With my body, it's completely possible. If I'm not perfect, I get results like that."
I've asked myself what's happened to me. I was on such a high before. I felt strong and empowered. I felt like I was becoming a new person. For crying out loud, I had lost almost 100 pounds in one year. But no matter what my accomplishments, I still have those voices inside that argue that it's taking too long and that I'll never get there.
I HATE my body right now.
Wait, stop. Don't try to tell me I'm crazy and I'm doing so great. Let me get this out.
You know those books where you have a body, torso and legs separated? You can turn the pages and match up different heads with different torsos with different legs and have a crazy looking person. Do you remember those?
I feel like one of those.
The head is looking quite good.
The torso - not bad at all. I'm finally starting to enjoy it.
The bottom half? HATE.
My head was one of the first things to start getting better. I mean, I've always been a "pretty face" fat girl, so that was to be expected, right?
The torso came next. Sure, my arms are flabby, but I also have muscle definition in them too. Sure, I still have back fat rolls and a huge stomach instead of flat abs, but I've been able to notice a difference. I went from a 4x top to now wearing a lot of XL tops, 18/20s in some things. Size 26/28 to an 18/20 in a year.
My bottom half? It hasn't seemed to have budged for forever. I can wear some 24s, yes, but I'm still mostly in 26s. I started at 32s, so, yes, this is a change in the right direction...but I still have people staring at my stomach. I still have that huge stomach apron that covers the top parts of my legs. That's all people notice when they see me. I yelled at Hubs the other day because I thought he was staring at it. I've become so self conscious about my bottom half that I like to pretend it doesn't exist. I dont' feel the least bit sexy past my waist, and it's killing my self-esteem. It's probably the biggest reason why I like to shop for tops and HATE HATE HATE shopping for pants.
I walk past a mirror and I have one of two reactions. If the mirror is only a half mirror and I see the top half, I think, "Dayum! I look GOOD!" If the mirror is full length, however, all that happens in my head is a deep sadness followed by a simple, "I suck."
I know I have to have patience. I know if I keep working that it will catch up. I know all of that. But I'm heartbroken over it. And that's why I need to focus solely on having GRIT.
The weekend is past. I made a lot of mistakes. It could have been worse. (Yes, I'm being completely honest...I sat for about 5 hours in the middle of the day not moving, telling myself if I got up I would find something to eat, reminding myself that my stomach was in so much pain that I could NOT eat anything else, period. It COULD have been worse.)
Today is Monday. The first full week in April. And I already have a plan, so I'm just going to go with it. I'm going back to eating my everyday work-week meals and throw in great healthy dinners, like grilled salmon tonight. And I'm still going to weigh-in every day, but I'm only giving myself a minute to dwell on the number before I move on, let it go, and get back to the process of living. I cannot let that scale or measuring tape rule my life. I have to live for me.
Workouts for this week:
Monday - C25k W2D1, ST (W2D1 of program)
Tuesday - Walk or yoga at lunch, need the night off (Ethan's Bday)
Wednesday - C25k W2D2, ST (W2D2)
Thursday - Walk or yoga at lunch, need the night off (Friend Visiting from West Coast)
Friday - C25k W2D3 (hopefully outside), ST (W2D3)
Saturday - Rest -- ETHAN'S SPECIAL DAY
Also need to do this week:
* Call CT to schedule April appointment for boxing.
* Dr. Apt. on Friday -- DO NOT FORGET!
* Call Ethan's friend's parents to confirm pick up place and time for Saturday
The hardship - Hating my body
The danger - Giving up
Having Grit is Absolutely Necessary Right Now.
I'm not thinking right now. I'm just doing. I'm putting up a brick wall in my mind against all the negative excuses, like the fact that my body ALWAYS hurts now...ALWAYS...and like being tired ALL THE TIME...and having ZERO time to clean at home, which is sorely needed. This morning I weighed in at 327 (just in case you figured all that weight would melt away in the night...it won't. It will take me several days to get my body back down to 320...maybe even weeks).
Don't think, Esther.
Just do. Go. Be.
And for the record, I did NOT have a bad week last week. I finished week 1 of C25k with no serious pain while running (though I think I tweaked my right foot on a hill Friday). I got nearly all of my workouts in. And I burned about 5k calories or more, with about 2k of them on Friday. (Another reason for the gain, I might add.) I did not have a bad week. I have no clue why I fell apart, but I'm moving on. (Maybe TOM is coming on...I have been rather cranky and none of my usual motivational things are working right now.)
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