Monday, September 17, 2007
I have always been envious of runners. I've never been able to run, not even as a child. It has always been one thing or another, asthma or obesity, holding me back; and I'd pretty much resigned myself to being one of the perpetual power walkers on life's race track.
Well, folks, I'm nothing if not determined to break every misconception I've ever had about my fitness level, or lack thereof. Every day, I have been out there TRYING to crack this nut... jogging. I was really pathetic, making no gains at all for over two months, but still kept trying. After all, there has to be SOME physical benefit for perseverance. Isn’t it a form of high intensity interval training, to jog in short bursts, then stop and walk again? I might not ever be a REAL runner, but I was still absolutely committed to burning that extra 30 seconds worth of calories. It was better than NOT doing it, right?
I posted about my lack of progress back on August 20th. Here is part of that desperate post:
“Whenever I start jogging, I start breathing heavier. It seems like after about a minute, I am sucking air as hard and fast as I can possibly suck, and still not getting enough oxygen to meet the demand, so I stop running.
I see other newbies running 5K in 6 weeks. Well, it's been about 5 weeks for me and I'm still working on 5 blocks. I'm starting to feel like I will never run.”
I got some replies, but nothing clicked. Several people expressed “breathing problems” and reassured me that it would get easier.
Well, tonight, a wonderful thing happened. I discovered my pace.
I made a concerted effort to jog as slowly as possible. Not as easy as it sounds, but I needed to try something different. It worked! I had a breakthrough.
By focusing on jogging SLOWLY, I was able to relax completely, and fall into a natural, easy rhythm. It didn’t hurt. I was able to breathe. I stopped hunching my shoulders. For the first time EVER, I made it to the end of the block… and kept going. Another block. And another. Then four, then five… each step becoming more elated and proud of myself. My husband started running to catch up to me, and called out “You’re doing it honey, you’re doing it!”
I could have kept going, even on the uphill those last two blocks back to the house, where the cat was waiting for us on the front sidewalk, and upon seeing my Rocky Balboa, hands-over-head-in-triumph dance, BOLTED into the back yard. My own kitty didn’t recognize me, running.
I can’t ever remember being more overjoyed with myself, for not giving up on running, and trying to find a way to live my dream of an active, fit life. That is exactly what I want to tell anyone who wants to know “my secret”. Don’t give up!
I can’t WAIT to do it again tomorrow!
Saturday, September 15, 2007
I have heard this several times lately.
While I do have a different outlook about many things, when I hear this type of comment, I always think it says much more about the OTHER PERSON than it does about ME.
Every time someone says this it me, I bite my tongue, because I have a very different theory.
YOUR whole attitude toward me is different.
YOUR view of me has changed.
YOU are finally interested in what I have to say, and YOU are no longer uncomfortable looking at me long enough to have a conversation.
The conversations are also changing. They are more serious. They are more inclusive. I am privy to words and topics I would not have been, a year ago.
Whereas before, my glib comments were mere comic relief, they are now analyzed with great interest by my superiors, as subtle proverb from an underutilized, experienced, industry insider.
Yes, losing a significant amount of weight changes you. Losing a significant amount of weight changes everyone else, too. Until you have gone through it, you just can not fully appreciate how MUCH changes in your life. I am more important. I am more respected.
Furthering my business has always been a major motivator for me in this journey. I can’t wait to see what the future holds.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Now that I'm finally small enough to fit into them, I decided I will never wear them, because I hate them.
They LOOK like 1980's pants: high in the waist and tight at the ankle. Not flattering in the least.
Todays lower rises and wider legs look SO MUCH better on me, and I won't look dated wearing them. Even the dresses are going... the ones with the big shoulder pads. I look like a plump Joan Collins wearing them.
So yesterday was a major laundry and closet purge day (again). They're going bye-bye.
Hello new wardrobe!
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
I went shopping tonight. Yep, the pants are loose again, and I need new bras. I went to my usual place, Lane Bryant.
Unfortunately, I didn't get into as small a bra as I picked up (maybe it's good that the cup size is holding steady???) and they didn't have the size I needed in the style I wanted. Oh well.
I wandered over to the "SALE" sign on a display of some sharp looking bermuda shorts. Feeling confident, I picked up the last size 14W and slipped into the fitting room.
They fit perfectly.
I'm so happy about that, it's ridiculous. I can shop in regular stores now. And THAT, my friends, is a MAJOR triumph.
The dog and I went for our walk just before lunchtime today. Not the best time to go, as it's pretty hot by then, and trees are few and far between at high noon. As a precautionary measure, I walked a slightly different route, hoping to find a shadier path; and came across a crew of men working on a big landscape job. I noticed one of them staring at me.
As I got closer, I had to circumvent the equipment that was blocking the sidewalk. The guy was still eyeballing me, so I smiled and said "Good morning!" to him. He smiled back and said "You're beautiful."
It was a good day.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
“You got fins to the left, fins to the right, and you’re the only bait in town…”
Let the ogling begin.
I walk with my dog for at least an hour every day. I live in a beautiful park, where acres of open green space and rolling wooded nature preserves surround the inner city neighborhood. Part of my circuit takes me through the vita-course, where there is a jogging path and fitness equipment stations. Many people use the vita-course, for not only exercise, but social networking.
I don’t USE the course; I walk around it, because dogs are not allowed. I do, however, stop at the fountain and fill her bowl. She drinks, and does her level best to get in some social networking with anyone she sees.
As much as I try to discourage her, and continue our exercise, SHE wants to mingle. She tugs one way, and I tug the other, until eventually we’re out of there.
After 8 months of this, I recognize the regulars. Some of them recognize me, and say hello; and some of them clearly don’t recognize me, but say hello anyway and react as if I’m there to meet Mr. Right.
More and more, I get eye contact. I get smiles. I get “Good Morning!” I get long stares from cars. I get squealing brakes and honking horns. As I become smaller, I become more visible.
And while I’m thinking of it, spandex pull-on pants are NOT fat pants. They are work-out pants. I didn’t wear any when I was fat, but I live in them now. Teeny, tiny, spandex pants, with teeny tiny spandex tops.
I smile, as the voice inside me thinks, “My DOG is pleased to meet you. You may pet my DOG.”
So, I'm looking through my favorite old plus-size shopping sites online, getting a teensy bit bummed that I won't be shopping at them anymore. I'm looking at the cute sleeveless halters, and spaghetti strap numbers that I wear all the time, and I realize how much nicer my arms are than all the models.
I mean, I know I'm still fat and all, and so are the models, but their arms just have no tone. And I think back to when I was a teen (which some of these models undoubtedly are), and how I didn't have very good arms then either.
I have much more muscle now. Even with the fatness, my muscles can be seen... and I love it. They look luscious. Soon, my arms will be rocking all that muscle for the whole world to see, and not just me, standing in front of the mirror.
I love my arms.
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