Monday, May 21, 2012
Welcome to the blog of someone who's gained every week for the past 6 weeks.
Or, welcome to the blog of someone who only gained 7.2 pounds during that time period, who fits just fine into the same clothes as before.
Welcome to the blog of someone who's over 220 again for the first time since February 2nd.
Welcome to the blog of someone who should be walking more.
Welcome to the blog of someone who walks every day, for 80 minutes, with few rest days.
Welcome to the blog of someone who should be lifting, what, 60 pounds every day? 80? 100?
Welcome to the blog of someone who lifts 45 pounds every single morning, without fail.
Welcome to the blog of someone who really should be eating, what, 1600 calories every day? 1400? 1200? No one seems to know, not definitively, anyway.
Welcome to the blog of someone who eats 1600 - 1800 calories per day, every day, without fail, and has since January 9th.
Welcome to the blog of someone who's over 220 pounds.
Welcome to the blog of someone who's lost over 120 pounds.
Welcome to the blog of somneone who feels sorry for herself, who mourns her lost opportunities and missed chances, who, chop chop! just isn't doing this fast or well enough.
Welcome to the blog of someone who knows that setbacks are temporary, but this change is permanent.
Monday, May 14, 2012
So here's a somewhat decent pic of m'new haircut. :)
I tell ya, I need a vacation.
Which is good, seeing as we are leaving day after tomorrow. We'll have the laptop but we'll be sharing it, so access will be spotty.
In the meantime, everybody and his brother has decided to call, which of course interrupts everything and then I lose my train of thought. And they all seem to be in perpetual hesitation mode.
You know what I mean - you get some weird blow by blow description of something you don't give a damn about. E. g. "Oh and I saw the neighbors today. Suzie was wearing a pink blouse. And Amy was wearing a white one. And Terri's was blue. Or was it green?" Pause. "Maybe it was blue-green? Wait, I'll check."
Argh! No! DO NOT CHECK! I DON'T CARE!
Or I get decisions on the other end of the line that are s...l...o...w, as if they were somehow momentous. "Yes ... send me ... a ... resume."
"And ... send it ... by email."
Er, I was planning on that, 'cause semaphore takes too long.
Yeah, I need a vacation.
Cape Code stuff, which mainly will involve walking, bringing breakfasts, lunches and snacks (dinners will be out) and generally getting better acquainted with the hot tub and spending time with the dude.
I need it!!
"Wait ... the ... hot tub ... is ... hot. No, wait ... it's ... kinda hot. No, wait, ... I'll get ... a ... what's it called again?"
Thermometer! And don't bother! Argh!!!
Yeah. I need a vacation.
Monday, May 07, 2012
I've had a rather full week.
It started off kinda meh on Monday and Tuesday, and then suddenly I got a notification that I'd be interviewed at a rather large financial servies/insurance company on Friday. Hence I had to change a hair appointment to Thursday, which I did.
Hair dude gave me a fab cut. So I go. I was almost late and - get this - I ran through the streets of Boston, in ballerina flats, to get to the interview on time. This, I am able to do! I must've looked a little silly, trench coat flapping behind me. No matter. At least I could do it, eh?
And it looks good, yanno. I am not trying to get my hopes up, or otherwise risk jinxing it. So kindly forgive my vageness. But there is naught to report yet, not really. But it felt good. It was also the first in-person interview I've gotten for this job search. So even in that manner it's something of a victory.
Turning to sports - quite literally.
I ran my (egad, is this right???) 28th 5K race. I finished in 46:02, which is not so great for me. I've only been slower 5 times. Two of those times, oddly enough, I was a good 40 pounds lighter than I am now. For one of them (my first 5K), I was 20 pounds lighter than I am now. This is also my second-slowest time for this year (the first 5K of the year was 21 seconds slower). I was overdressed and hot, and splashed into puddles in an effort to cool off my too-hot feet.
This was a charity race, for Miles for Hope (Brain Tumor research). They gave out medals for top finishers in each division. The divisions were tiny, e. g. women 45 - 49, rather than women 40 - 49. But that's okay.
And I came in third in my division (out of four). So I got a medal! W00t!
It's weird. I know my time could have been considerably better, and it has been. I know that I was hot and that slowed me down. I know that a goodly chunk of the people doing the 5K were walking it. I know that the division was somewhat artificially kept small. I know that this is a lot more like the Participation Generation, where people get rewarded for just showing up.
I know all of that, yet I don't care. I got a medal!!
The last time I got any sort of a non-finisher award for anything athletic was when I was 11 years old and attending horseback riding camp. We had shows at the end of the year and ribbons were given out. I placed fifth (it's a pink ribbon) out of six. Even the gal who was in sixth got a ribbon (the Participation Generation goes back to the summer of 1974, apparently).
I cannot begin to tell you how much silly pride I have in this medal. And how good I feel about not only running this, the 28th 5K, but also about running through Boston in ballerina flats to get to an interview on time.
Life has changed. Neither of these things would have happened a scant five years ago.
I am a new person.
And I've got a medal!!!!
Monday, April 30, 2012
I visited my doctor last week, for a checkup.
And I am up 12.5 pounds since last year. This fact does not surprise me. Of course it dismays me, but I am at a stage in my life where 12 1/2 pounds up does not stink anywhere near as much as it used to.
For weight is not the only number that matters.
There are a whole host of other numbers that work, and matter, and those are rather good these days.
And so, without further ado -
First off, blood counts, etc. are fine and thyroid is good (I've been on HRT for that for years).
Cholesterol - This year, the overall # is 200. Last year it was 194, and it was under 200 back into 2007 which is before I even started. My overall # has never really been an issue for years.
However - what's considerably more interesting are HDL and LDL #s, and the ratio.
(I don't have 2007 #s)
What does this all mean?
The HDL # is supposed to be high. At a 60, it's my highest in 5 years and is very high for any human.
The LDL # is supposed to be low. Mine is 123, only slightly under what it was last year.
THe ratio is supposed to be low. Mine is 3.3. Anyone with a ratio of under 5.0 is doing wonderfully. Heh, at 3.3, she wrote excellent on my report. I feel like I should get a gold star.
More funky news.
My resting pulse is 72 (the definition of normal) and my EKG heartrate is a mind-numbing 53. As in, they check the machine to make sure it's working.
I have a condition known as sinus bradycardia. It is not dangerous. It is, rather, found in 50 - 85% of all serious athletes.
Yeah, me. almost 218-pound me.
Monday, April 23, 2012
On the Internet, no one knows you're a dog.
And they don't need to know anything else about you, either. You can slip and slide online, being one way or another. Pretend to be someone you are not, if you like. The Internet, for the most part, will not try to stop you. Hell, in nearly every instance, it will be IMPOSSIBLE to stop you.
Or you can step back and be honest with yourself.
Same is true here.
Take a look at this article in the NY Times -
I used to wonder about myself, as I would look at myself in the bathroom mirror, which only shows me about from the chest up, and I would think, hey, I look fine. The full-length mirror in the next room would be wholly ignored. After all, it was the source of bad news. And so I would look only at a piece of the puzzle, deny to myself what I was, and go on blithely ignoring the truth.
According to the article, it wasn't just my bathroom mirror that was pushing me in that direction. It was also, to a large (heh, pun not intended) extent the people around me.
* When the average size of your peer group is a 6, and you're a 26, you know you're obese.
* When their average size is a 12 but you are still a 26, you know you're obese.
* When they average 18, but you're still a 26, you know you're overweight.
* When they average a 22, you know you might be a little chunky.
* When they average a 26, and you're a 26, you know you're average.
* When they average a 28, you're a little under.
* When they average a 32, and you're still a 26, you're the red-hot mama, the skinny girl.
It's almost like trying to figure out the temperature without a thermometer. When yesterday was 80, and today is 60, it feels cold. When yesterday was 40 and today is 60, suddenly it's hot.
People ask all the time about what they can do for their families who are not following the program and are obese and doing nothing about it. A few ideas -
* Lead by example. You go out together? Eat properly, and SLOWLY. Chat and have fun in ways that do not involve eating. And promote a few ways to enjoy each others' company without food.
* Another idea - take photographs. The full-length kind. I see this all the time, friends and family members who untag themselves from FB photos where they feel they look fat. Well, I got news for ya. At a size 26, there isn't an angle on the planet that will make you look thin. So here, as your dieting friend/family member, I present the photo to you. You can ignore it or utilize it as inspiration. I am not here to rub your nose in things. But here are the pics. Do with them what you will.
* One final idea - be there. Be the friend. Be the person in their life who is doing it. Your news is of 5Ks and that great new vegan place and buying cute clothes. And it's more, too, as there are other aspects of your life, yes? The message is getting there, even if it's just on an unconscious level.
Be that one.
PS My cover model is an unknown German Shepherd puppy I found online and photoshopped a bit so that she's wearing a little green tee shirt. Isn't she a cutie pie?
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