Wednesday, June 25, 2014
So yesterday after work my brother "trainer" called and asked if I wanted to meet him at the gym at 8 p.m.
Sure, no problem. I thought we would get in our 24 minute cardio, 15-20 minutes of strength and home in under an hour.
Yeah right. This is my brother the exercise junkie I'm talking about.
I beat him there so I warmed up on the new Octane Lateral X they added when they made the move to their larger/new location. This is a pretty darn cool elliptical machine that makes me feel like I am getting a pretty full workout.
Then we hit the weight machines. And by hit I mean we spent more than an hour in that room. I did everything but abs (that will be tomorrow's workout). He corrected my stance, showed me how to get more out of my movements and complained that he couldn't do as many inner thigh reps as I could.
Legs for days baby, legs for days.
Then is where the humor came in. We were trying our hand at the heavy ropes. He was trying to show me how to use just upper body/arm strength to throw the ropes down and create the ripple all the way to the end. I struggled but managed to do 25 of my 30 second turn...then instead of single arm throws we did double arm throws. He went first and even he was struggling by the end.
Then came my turn.
Apparently since I lack a lot of arm strength, I took to moving my back and hips back and forth, thrusting motion, instead of using my arms, and my brother just lost it laughing. I tried my hardest to finish out the 30 second but I began laughing pretty hard too. He demonstrated how I was doing it and then said "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh and I promised not to laugh at you or judge you, but it just looked so funny!"
He then patted me on the back and said "You still did a really great job, and after a few more months you will do those ropes no problem, and no pelvic thrusts needed."
We cooled off with 10 minutes of light cardio...me on the recumbent and he on the stair step machine and then I went home while he did an abdominal workout.
I never thought I would have so much fun at the gym with my brother and be able to laugh at myself in that way.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
So earlier this week, the scale did not match how I felt. I felt thinner and that everything fit better and that scale just didn't agree.
This morning however, when I weighed in for my 5 percent challenge, it showed another 1.5 pounds down! Yay! I also like the whole clothes fitting better and feeling thinner thing though too.
This weekend has been a blast. Grilled out last night then tuned in to mariomarathon 7...a great fundraiser for Child's Play (gives toys, books and games to kids in hospitals and shelters). Stayed up too late, slept in. Then I went to a grown up swimming pool with my sister and friends. Swim up bar (only had one drink though), pool chairs, in water bar stools and a band on the stage all day.
I am now slightly fried...because well apparently we were too cool for sunscreen. Oh well. It was fun as hell!
Thursday, June 19, 2014
As of this week I am down to three prescriptions a day:
My hypertension meds, my hypothyroid meds and my anti-anxiety meds
I have dropped my antibiotics, stomach pain killers, daily acid reducer and have cut out my birth control this week. The choice to drop my BC came because after nearly 7 years on it, I really want the hormones out of my system. I want to see how I feel off of them. Still definitely is preventing pregnancy at this point, however, since two of my three meds are not baby friendly.
Speaking of babies. My husband's cousin's wife announced this week on Facebook that she is 10 weeks along. She had two miscarriages last year and as of now her and baby are doing great. This made me smile...and then cry.
I KNOW it is in God's hands. And I feel deep down in my soul that my time is coming, and not so far away. I just have this ache when I see a baby. Or a picture of a baby. Or a baby bump. Or sonogram photo. Or little booties.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
I was talking to my brother the other day after a particularly hard work out. We made our favorite spicy sausage pasta (healthier version, go us) and were sitting and eating and we were discussing motivation, losing motivation and the barriers to weight loss. I just read an article on SparkPeople about emotional roadblocks to losing weight and getting healthier.
I completely understand this emotional road block thing. I get it. Totally get it. Those things in our lives that need to wait until the weight is gone and health is regained can be scary. Take my situation for instance. I have baby fever right now. Everywhere I turn someone has a baby or is posting their first sonograms on Facebook. And I am like 90 percent happy for them and 10 percent utterly jealous, miserable and sad. OK, maybe 75-25 on some days. I know that for us to safely have a baby I have to be healthier, and I am well on my way to being healthy enough for pregnancy. In the back of my head though there is this little voice. Small, but powerful.
"What if you lose all your weight and your husband still isn't ready for children?
"What if you lose all your weight and you can't get pregnant and you have wasted all these years of fertility being fat?"
"What if you lose all this weight and you still aren't healthy enough to be pregnant?"
You see how it goes. The snowball effect happens. Your thoughts jump to the worst conclusion. And as long as you stay fat. As long as you stay overweight. You will never need to see those "what ifs" realized. It's irrational. It's crazy. And in my moments of clarity I can see how ridiculous it is. But for better or worse, those thoughts and feelings are there. I get this "what's the point" attitude. I know I struggle with this and am trying to stave off self-sabotage, but let me tell you, it ain't easy.
So to all my friends and family celebrating their new additions to the family, be it current or future. I apologize if I don't jump right in with a congrats. I'm sorry if I don't smile more when I see you with your newborn. Just know that I am thrilled for you.
I just want it for myself.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
adjective, luck·i·er, luck·i·est.
1. having or marked by good luck; fortunate: That was my lucky day.
2. happening fortunately: a lucky accident.
3. bringing or foretelling good luck, or supposed to do so: a lucky penny
My definition of lucky is a little different. Instead, my definition of lucky who includes a younger brother. I used to think he was just "blessed" with athleticism, lucky enough to be in shape, and just happened to be the only one of us kids to get a high metabolism. Some of this is true. He does have a lot of natural, raw athletic talent. I was born pigeon-toed and clumsy. Most of the rest, however, isn't about luck. It's about determination and drive. He TRIES to stay healthy. Works hard for the body he has and has had discipline that I just didn't.
Some of it is luck, but a lot of it is just the person he is.
How I am lucky is now I am benefiting from the drive he has. When he went away for basic training and AIT for the National Guard, not only did he put even more hard work and effort into being the best version of himself, something triggered in him. He suddenly felt it was his purpose to not only get himself in the best shape of his life, but drag us along for the ride.
He came home determined, he wanted his whole family to get on a path to wellness, fitness and good general health. Then that spread to his family and friends. Then that spread to pretty much everyone he meets.
A few weeks ago I "ran" a 5K with my sister and a couple friends. My brother, who could run circles around most people, decided to stay with us the entire race, rather than try for his PR. He ended up coaching my sister through the race, making her run in spurts. Everyone kept saying "wow she brought her trainer along." It's true that my brother wants to be a personal trainer or athletic trainer after the army and college, but he wasn't there as her trainer, he was there as her loving little brother.
This week that little brother has started working out with me, using the CU24 level 1 DVDs by Advocare. Matt expected them to be a decent work out, and probably tough on those of us who are out of shape, and it was. But more than that, they had different levels and endurance phases for all levels of fitness, and my athletic, army-trained brother was panting and sweating and cursing, just as much as I was by the end of the work-out. Day 2's workout was even harder.
We cheered each other on, yelled at the screen together. Shared a few tricks and secrets to recovery after a hard work out (seriously my quads are so angry right now). It was great. And at the end of the day, I have my brother there, refusing to give up, Refusing to quit. Refusing to let ME give up or quit.
So nope, I don't need a personal trainer. I have something much better. I have my brother.
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