At long last...
Friday, March 13, 2009
And finally the scale moves in the right direction! I finally get to see the elusive 209. I hope in a couple of weeks to be firmly planted on the underside of 210. What a relief it will be to finally be under 200! But let's not get too much ahead of myself.
I'm focusing on trying to whine less. I'm sure it's irritating to those around me, but it's also demoralizing for me. I think focusing on feeling bad makes me feel worse. I'm trying not to worry about my husband weighing less than me--oh boy wouldn't I feel worse if he gained weight so I didn't feel as bad? What a heel I'd be to damage his health because I didn't feel good about myself. And he's the kind of guy who might do it just to please me. So no more whining on that front, no matter what.
I'm trying to notice the things that being more fit have changed in my life. So I'm making a list:
--I can go up stairs (most of the time) without getting winded. I have a hard time figuring out what's normal and what isn't, and I spend a lot of my life at ground level (isn't that surprising? I though I'd encounter stairs a lot more often than I do) but the stairs that I did go up and down before I started working out stopped making me out of breath a long time ago. In addition, I walked up those stairs while talking to someone else, and didn't get winded--but she did.
--This may be a small one, but I'm not afraid of long treks like I used to be. I don't feel a sense of dread when I think about how far away something is, nor do I wonder if I can make it all the way there and still have energy to get back. I don't think this one was the fear of the exercise, but because my blood sugar used to be so out of control, and by the time I would get to the turning point of a walk I was weak and shaky and feeling...well, those of you who have experienced really low blood sugar know how I felt. There are really no words that accurately describe the hollow, rubbery feeling I used to get all the time. I'm so grateful that I found out how I need to eat.
--I'm stronger, though I didn't notice it for a long time because I guess I'm kind of oblivious. People would say something was heavy, and I would just shrug and figure that maybe they were carrying it wrong. But I know that before I started working out, I had a hard time carrying my cat's kitty litter from the back of the store to the cash register, and now I carry it one-handed with little effort. (Yes, I'm oblivious--I spent a long time thinking I was just remembering the weight wrong.) I'm starting to see muscles in my arm even when I'm resting--an interesting dichotomy, considering that I still have the wonderful hanging fat known as bat wings. I'm still what, nearly ninety pounds from what would be considered an optimal weight for me? So I have hopes that the bat wings will go away, but my genetics are arguing that they won't. But I figure that if I have visible muscle, then I can feel like I'm doing my best.
Building health and not stressing weight so much is a good example for my daughter. Eating better is a good example for her. It breaks my heart when she worries about her weight, especially now that her body is going through so many changes and she's started to carry a bit of extra weight. I want her to have health for life, not the starving that I did to myself (with no success, thank you PCOS). I want her to enjoy being active without forcing herself to do things she doesn't like in the hopes of losing weight. I feel so strongly about this, but I keep forgetting it when I don't lose weight. I need to tattoo it on my forehead! "Complaining about your weight and not appreciating your health is hurting the people around you!" Yikes. That'll keep me on track.