Tuesday, August 27, 2013
I weigh in officially tomorrow, but I sneaked a peak at my scale and also measured myself already.
I began at 158.8. I am now exactly 154.8. Four pounds is not very awe-inspiring weight loss for 12 weeks! However, I have lost 4.75" during that same time period, 1.25" of it from my saddlebags, where I had previously lost over 4". I look pretty straight and waist-less in clothes. However, naked, I am clearly developing a shape and the top 4 of a 6-pack.
When I look in the mirror, everything is obviously firmer from my head to 2" below my navel. Then there's this squishy area until about the top 3" of thighs. Then I'm decidedly firmer again. Even that squishy area shows some improvement - it's a little smaller and less cottage-cheesy in appearance.
I have to be kinder to myself and really remember what my "before" would have been like if I'd taken a close up picture of myself in a teeny bikini instead of in jeans. And I have to stop comparing myself to what I looked like before my life went to heck in 2006 and I gained a ton of weight. I am not as slim as I was then but I have lost 21 pounds since my highest weight. I've overcome big obstacles - physical illness, doubt and depression.
Yesterday I went through my closet and donated a bunch of clothes to Goodwill. Most of them are size 10 pants. I tried on some skinny size 10 and relaxed 8 pants that were too tight last fall and they fit perfectly now. I also donated some of my "lumberjack shirts", remembering a couple of unkind remarks I heard last year at school about my manliness. I have large shoulders, but no mustache, thank you very much. I did not intentionally dress like a man. I just wore loose clothes in layers and I never liked lace or frills.
After I donated several bags of clothes, I went inside the store and triumphantly bought a couple of somewhat snug shirts. I don't have the waist for them yet, but I can see it in my future. I don't intend to be mistaken for a man this year, not even as a "joke".
As far as my running goes - some interesting things have happened. As my cardiorespiratory fitness has improved, I have been haunted by old right ankle, 5th metatarsal and IT band injuries (from hiking and the right leg being longer than the left). So before I sign up for a longer race, I need to see an orthopedist. (Is it a bad sign that the best one in town has the first name of Kash?)
My current long workout is all in the gym:
walk 15 minutes
run 25 minutes
use the arc trainer, which is like an elliptical with less knee action, 15 minutes
use a recumbant bike 15 minutes
do the circuit weights
Basically, I am going for as little impact as possible while still moving my legs and getting 70 minutes of cardio. I'd like to run longer but at this point I can't because I start to hurt. Dang it, right? I have finally improved my exercise-induced asthma (the allergen-induced asthma will probably never go away)... and now this...
I am reading as many running books from an anatomy/physiology/injury prevention standpoint as I can get my hands on. I am itching to sign up for a 10k. If the orthopedist has bad news, I'll settle for some more 5ks now that clinicals are over.
(One of the reasons I want to run longer is because I read a no-duh sentence in a book about prepping for marathons if you're a "master" meaning old, not a "master" meaning fast. Assuming a fit runner who can handle 5 and 10ks, It said to get used to moving on your feet for 3.5 hours once a week. The light bulb came on and I immediately decided to start doing that... until my right ankle started to scream no at me.)
In the last two weeks, I've been working on strengthening opposing muscles, on stretching, and I've put a gel pad underneath the left insert of all my shoes. It's helped tremendously, even with back pain during the day. Consequently, I've discovered that short runs no longer cause any pain at all.
In fact, I'm surprising myself by running where I used to stroll or limp. Running in the halls in clinicals (I got in trouble). Running down to the barn. Running down to shoo stray dogs out of my yard. I don't mean jogging. I mean BOLTING out of my door and RUNNING like my pants are on fire, like I did yesterday when I could not believe that after I already shooed one dog out of my yard, there were two more sniffing my chickens. I have a long driveway... I literally got half a mile of running in before I realized it would be smarter of me to shut the gate and just open it again before my husband got home. So then I ran down again to open it for him!
I caught my neighbor staring at me. He must be wondering what happened to the fat girl with angina who lived here last year.