Sunday, March 06, 2011
Dear ridiculously accurate digital scale,
As you know, I normally love your brutal honesty in assessing my total weight. But I'm not really liking what you are showing me. To borrow some words from the immortal Cee Lo Green, I really hate your ass right now.
How can you give me perfectly respectable numbers during one part of the day (135) then jump me up to 139 later? WTF? Can we say indecisive?
Scale, I'm worried about you. I'm beginning to wonder if you have multiple personalities. Does your mean side want to see me face down in a bowl of chips and dip? That's just hateful, and I will not tolerate hatefulness.
So, scale. I'm putting you on probation. You are not going to see me for a little while, and if you do not shape up -- you're fired. I hear there's a trusty tape measure that is looking for work.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
So far this week I have ran nearly 12 miles -- in three days. Typically I log about eight miles a week, and right now my thighs are tight and achy. My muscles hurt so bad last night I had trouble falling asleep.
I had intended to go to the gym this morning. (There's no child care on Sunday.) But my body is not going to cooperate.
It's frustrating because I had planned a light three miler today. If I completed the run, I would have logged about 15 miles this week. I have not done that in about nine years.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
I ran 7.25 miles. I have at least one, maybe two more workouts to get in before Sunday.
I kept within my calorie range all except one day.
My weight is jumping all over the place. Yesterday I was up to 140. You read that right. 140. Tonight I was barely at 137. Yup. It's that TOM.
I'm hopeful that the work I'm doing now will show up on the scale next week. I'm feeling pretty pudgy because of all the bloating.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
No matter how much I prioritize or how productive I am, I consistently put my family, my friends and even scrubbing the floor above my own needs.
Like a lot of women, I am guilty of putting myself at the bottom of the to-do list.
I know this needs to change. But I feel guilty or selfish when I take time out for myself.
So, I'm going to use this little hang up (and my selfless mother complex) to help motivate me to break through this little plateau and lose this weight once and for all.
I'm no longer going to look at dropping these last 23 pounds as some self-serving task. Oh, no. No. No. I'm not doing this purely for myself. I'm mostly doing it for my toddler son -- who deserves to have the best me. He deserves to grow up in a house where more apples are eaten then fruit snacks and broccoli isn't a dirty word.
I'm also doing it for my dad and my brother. Two guys who shouted for me along the sidelines of 5Ks years ago. Now I'm the cheerleader, but we should be running together.
I'm doing it for my cholesterol level, which should be much lower.
I'm doing it for my knees and my ankles. I'm doing it for summer tank tops. I'm doing it for lots of reasons. I have to. Because if I do it just for me, losing weight is going to get pushed to the bottom of the list.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
About a month and a half ago, we had a little heat wave here in Central Ohio. Temps rose into the high 40s, and I decided to hit the street instead of the treadmill.
Within the first half-mile, my lungs were full of cold air, and I was gasping for breath. I vowed not to run outside again until it was at least 60 degrees.
Well, folks that happened today, and I was excited. On the way home, I saw four different sets of high school athletes running, a slew of moms pushing strollers and a couple groups of snarky looking teens strolling down the street.
Everyone was out.
I started my run with a half-mile hill. At the top of that beast, my iPod went silent. I thought maybe I had stumbled upon a song with a really long, soft intro. No luck. My little motivation machine had mysteriously turned itself off, and I lost the first part of my run.
I pushed on and pushed buttons while I ran. Halfway through the downhill the magic machine popped back on, and it pushed me on until I hit about 2.5 to 3 miles.
I was headed down a flat, straight road, making good time when it happened. My ankles started going numb. My feet followed. My feet were so numb that I stubbed my toe and nearly sent myself flying into traffic.
I stopped, I cursed, and I walked for about a half-mile. When I started running again, my right ankle and foot quickly started going numb again. I loosened my laces. I stretched my ankle. Nothing helped except walking.
Has this happened to you? What do you do to get feeling back in your feet?
Get An Email Alert Each Time LOSINGAFEW Posts