Why do we think we will live forever?
I know that most likely none of us actually literally say to ourselves, "I am immortal," but I think we usually act like it.
We don't live forever though.
Some of us don't even get to become old.
And some of the people I know that have become old have somehow cheated the odds, because the choices they have made should have seriously shortened their life spans by now.
I think maybe we don't want to think about death, and our own deaths in particular, because that means we would have to be accountable for the choices we are making and whether we are attempting to delay death, or are hastening it closer.
I don't know about you, but I don't want to die because of dumb choices I've made or might make. So I guess I had better stop making dumb choices and start making smart ones.
Today I learned that a friend of mine in Colorado lost her teenage son in a car accident. Losing someone so quickly and unexpectedly feels like someone has punched you in the gut. I know about that. Will you please say a prayer for my friend and her family?
If you are making choices that might take you away sooner from your family and friends, would you take a moment to love yourself today and make a better choice? I am telling this to myself too, because I am certainly guilty of slowing killing myself with food. I have to ask myself if I can love myself enough to fight my food addiction.
If you're a parent or a teacher, you know that giving kids what they want isn't how you show love to them. Showing love is giving children what they need, not what they want, and we do the happy dance when the 2 become the same thing. So, love yourself today, and I will love myself today, by giving ourselves what we need, not what we want.
Do whatever you can to love yourself, and to allow your friends and family as much lifetime as possible to love on you as well.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Beast Cameth...
*big sigh*....
It's that time again.
And I mean it's THAT time again. Of the month. You know.
Grrrr. Five days of hormone overabundance and chemical imbalances.
Five days of bloating, cramps and irritability.
And five days of weight gain that is not entirely my fault!
Grrrrr.
I don't mean that I'm giving in to my impulses and stuffing my cheeks full of chocolately goodness.
Not yet anyway.
But I always, always, always gain 2-4 pounds during the Beast's visits.
I hate it.
Yeah, yeah, yeah....it's a natural function of the female body, child-bearing, joy, love and peace, blah, blah, blah.
I still hate it!
And you know that you do too.
So it was no surprise to me today that when I showed up to Weight Watchers I had a gain. Luckily, it wasn't 4 pounds, nor 3, not even 2. Just 1.8, which is an accomplishment in itself and a testimony to how hard I worked (not counting last Saturday, Sunday and Monday of course, because we've been all over that fiasco of a weekend).
Even though I know that I worked hard this week and I eventually did end up eating within my points (I earned beaucoup activity points by doing some extra long workouts this week), I couldn't help feeling a little bummed this morning. And when I feel bummed, I eat.
It was actually very apropos that this happened this particular weekend though, because the theme for the week at Weight Watchers was "Don't Stuff Your Face...Face Your Stuff." I know that I am guilty of using food to hide from my feelings. More than once I've woken up from a sugar or fat-induced coma and found my fingers covered in thin candy coating or cheesy residue.
I wanted nothing more than to take a trip down to Lamar's donuts and ease my frustrations this morning with a 6 pack of long johns and crullers. But, I didn't. I wanted to, but, I actually listened this morning at the meeting, and I decided to blog about my feelings instead of trying to deal with them through food, or not deal with them, as the case may be.
This blog really has been theraputic for me. I have stopped to think on more than one occasion about the choices I'm making, and what I would say about them on my blog. If you're someone else who has the tendency to stuff your face instead of facing your stuff, and you like to write, you might try blogging. If you're new to blogging, you can always make it a private blog so that no one else can read it. But for me, writing about my feelings somehow helps to validate them, and then sharing this with my friends helps to keep me accountable.
Enough mushy stuff...
I'm still bummed about a gain this week. But, I'm not going to break out the ho-ho's just because I'm sad, angry and disappointed. A new week is beginning. I'm going to continue to make good choices. I will eat filling, nutritious foods. I will eat yummy fattening foods when I have points for them (as I did this morning at Chipotle. Ole!) And I will exercise every day that allows for it without making excuses for skipping it such as "But I'm bloated and gassy." (As if that's different from any other day!)
It's that time again.
And I mean it's THAT time again. Of the month. You know.
Grrrr. Five days of hormone overabundance and chemical imbalances.
Five days of bloating, cramps and irritability.
And five days of weight gain that is not entirely my fault!
Grrrrr.
I don't mean that I'm giving in to my impulses and stuffing my cheeks full of chocolately goodness.
Not yet anyway.
But I always, always, always gain 2-4 pounds during the Beast's visits.
I hate it.
Yeah, yeah, yeah....it's a natural function of the female body, child-bearing, joy, love and peace, blah, blah, blah.
I still hate it!
And you know that you do too.
So it was no surprise to me today that when I showed up to Weight Watchers I had a gain. Luckily, it wasn't 4 pounds, nor 3, not even 2. Just 1.8, which is an accomplishment in itself and a testimony to how hard I worked (not counting last Saturday, Sunday and Monday of course, because we've been all over that fiasco of a weekend).
Even though I know that I worked hard this week and I eventually did end up eating within my points (I earned beaucoup activity points by doing some extra long workouts this week), I couldn't help feeling a little bummed this morning. And when I feel bummed, I eat.
It was actually very apropos that this happened this particular weekend though, because the theme for the week at Weight Watchers was "Don't Stuff Your Face...Face Your Stuff." I know that I am guilty of using food to hide from my feelings. More than once I've woken up from a sugar or fat-induced coma and found my fingers covered in thin candy coating or cheesy residue.
I wanted nothing more than to take a trip down to Lamar's donuts and ease my frustrations this morning with a 6 pack of long johns and crullers. But, I didn't. I wanted to, but, I actually listened this morning at the meeting, and I decided to blog about my feelings instead of trying to deal with them through food, or not deal with them, as the case may be.
This blog really has been theraputic for me. I have stopped to think on more than one occasion about the choices I'm making, and what I would say about them on my blog. If you're someone else who has the tendency to stuff your face instead of facing your stuff, and you like to write, you might try blogging. If you're new to blogging, you can always make it a private blog so that no one else can read it. But for me, writing about my feelings somehow helps to validate them, and then sharing this with my friends helps to keep me accountable.
Enough mushy stuff...
I'm still bummed about a gain this week. But, I'm not going to break out the ho-ho's just because I'm sad, angry and disappointed. A new week is beginning. I'm going to continue to make good choices. I will eat filling, nutritious foods. I will eat yummy fattening foods when I have points for them (as I did this morning at Chipotle. Ole!) And I will exercise every day that allows for it without making excuses for skipping it such as "But I'm bloated and gassy." (As if that's different from any other day!)
Friday, January 29, 2010
All the World is a Stage
The Setting:
A factory-like, pain-inflicting warehouse full of sweaty anorexic-looking females and steroid-downing males that smells faintly of Parmesan cheese. Also known as 24 Hour Fitness.
The Players:
The Protagonist:
Our Heroine: Overweight, yet undaunted, our female lead faces unparalleled forces of sweatyness and suffering in her attempt to lose weight and become healthy.
The Antagonists:
The Lobster Guy: Veiny, bulging biceps of a man who has fallen asleep way too many times in the tanning bed. Arms are reminiscent of lobster claws.
Basketball/Biker Wannabe Dude: Tall and skinny college student type flavored with colorful tattoos. Can not seem to decide whether he'd rather adjust his long, silky girl-hair, or adjust his....um.....self.
Macho Italian Man #1: Bulkier of two Italian Men. Can not actually raise arms above head because ofsteroid addiction muscles.
Macho Italian Man #2: Older Italian Man. Prefers to wear sleeveless "wife-beater" T-shirts, though it seems they might cause some nipple chaffing as he is constantly rubbing his chest.
Olsen-twin Lookalikes: Group of 40-ish aged women who trail around Lobster Guy and Macho Italian Men throughout the gym. Parade around in variety of neon-colored spandex sports bras just in case someone missed howemaciated good they look.
The Human Pretzel/Mat Hog: Uses entire stretching mat to do splits, back-bends, and other gymnastics that he dreams of one day doing in the 24 Hour Olympics.
The Socialite: Constantly talks on cell phone during her 9 minute power-workout on elliptical.
Slave-drivers and Purveyors of Pain: Also known as personal trainers.
Plot:
Facing unspeakable odds and squaring off with such colorful characters as these, our heroine boldly faces these gym 'regulars' in competition to score the much-desired gym mats, elusive ellipticals, and coveted Nautilus machines. Once again our heroine comes face-to-face with those characters that would hog the gym equipment and take over this arena of fitness. Yet however intimidating these players might be, our protagonist meets head on these forces of anorexia nervosa and pharmaceutically-enhanced testosterone until she has thoroughly completed her 45 minutes of exercise-induced angst and beaten back those who would seek to intimidate her to the nether regions of the treadmills and stair masters.
A factory-like, pain-inflicting warehouse full of sweaty anorexic-looking females and steroid-downing males that smells faintly of Parmesan cheese. Also known as 24 Hour Fitness.
The Players:
The Protagonist:
Our Heroine: Overweight, yet undaunted, our female lead faces unparalleled forces of sweatyness and suffering in her attempt to lose weight and become healthy.
The Antagonists:
The Lobster Guy: Veiny, bulging biceps of a man who has fallen asleep way too many times in the tanning bed. Arms are reminiscent of lobster claws.
Basketball/Biker Wannabe Dude: Tall and skinny college student type flavored with colorful tattoos. Can not seem to decide whether he'd rather adjust his long, silky girl-hair, or adjust his....um.....self.
Macho Italian Man #1: Bulkier of two Italian Men. Can not actually raise arms above head because of
Macho Italian Man #2: Older Italian Man. Prefers to wear sleeveless "wife-beater" T-shirts, though it seems they might cause some nipple chaffing as he is constantly rubbing his chest.
Olsen-twin Lookalikes: Group of 40-ish aged women who trail around Lobster Guy and Macho Italian Men throughout the gym. Parade around in variety of neon-colored spandex sports bras just in case someone missed how
The Human Pretzel/Mat Hog: Uses entire stretching mat to do splits, back-bends, and other gymnastics that he dreams of one day doing in the 24 Hour Olympics.
The Socialite: Constantly talks on cell phone during her 9 minute power-workout on elliptical.
Slave-drivers and Purveyors of Pain: Also known as personal trainers.
Plot:
Facing unspeakable odds and squaring off with such colorful characters as these, our heroine boldly faces these gym 'regulars' in competition to score the much-desired gym mats, elusive ellipticals, and coveted Nautilus machines. Once again our heroine comes face-to-face with those characters that would hog the gym equipment and take over this arena of fitness. Yet however intimidating these players might be, our protagonist meets head on these forces of anorexia nervosa and pharmaceutically-enhanced testosterone until she has thoroughly completed her 45 minutes of exercise-induced angst and beaten back those who would seek to intimidate her to the nether regions of the treadmills and stair masters.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Herculean Strength Aboundeth
Wow! Sometimes I even amaze myself…
Just a quick WTG moment (that’s Way To Go, by the way).
I sooooo wanted a cookie after lunch. I mean REALLY wanted a cookie. I was starting to fantasize about how to snag one…”Maybe some kind soul brought cookies in today and they’re in the teachers’ lounge,” and even more desperate...“maybe I can scrounge around the kids’ lunchboxes for leftovers,” (ewww, I know).
You know when you really want to eat something, you can actually almost taste it before you even have it in your mouth? That’s where I was. Then I remembered….
Oooh, I have a little package of cookies in the bottom of my workout bag…
I know what you’re thinking, what are cookies doing in my workout bag? Good question. I’m not sure. Thanks for asking.
I actually had the bag in my hand and was about to go digging around when I realized this could either make or break my good eating for the day. Do I have enough points for the cookies? Yes. But is it possible for me to eat them without going on a sugar binge? Ummmm, probably not. Sugar begets sugar in my mind for some reason.
So I reluctantly put the cookie-laden workout bag back down, and reached in my purse for a couple sticks of gum.
Now I’m furiously chewing away, my good eating for the day is still intact, and my breath is so very minty fresh!
Yea me!! Move over Hercules! A new demi-goddess* of amazing strength (and minty fresh breath) is in town!
*Note: I don't actually consider myself a demi-god, BTW. That would just be a little narcissistic and god-complexish. I am no demi-god. Just freaking awesome, is all!!
*Note: I don't actually consider myself a demi-god, BTW. That would just be a little narcissistic and god-complexish. I am no demi-god. Just freaking awesome, is all!!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
I am POSITIVE...
that I HATE exercise.
I hate to harp on this subject, but I just really was disappointed in my workout tonight.
The one thing, ONE THING, I like about exercise really failed me tonight.
The absolute only good thing about exercise is that....
well, I guess exercise is helping me to lose weight, and that is pretty important to me.
Let's try this again....
Okay, the 2nd (only) good thing about exercise is that...
well...I guess exercise is good for my heart and other goo-covered body parts inside me.
Sigh...I may have to rethink this...
Alright, the 3rd (only) good thing about exercise (and I mean it this time!) is that...
it keeps me from being hungry!
That's right! If we ignore those first two exercise-related glitches above, the number 1 , 2 , 3 thing about exercise that keeps me (reluctantly) willing to do it is that for one time during the day I am not hungry. I don't know quite how this magic occurs, but I sure appreciate that it somehow does.
Now, to be honest, I've never gone to the gym really hungry. I always try to eat a little something, like a string cheese and a banana to at least have something in my belly before I beat my body into utter submission. Usually I enter the gym a little on the hungry side, but by the time I leave, the hunger has completely subsided. I do get hungry within an hour or so, but the workout gives me a chance to get home and make some dinner before I am completely starving and eating stale, leftover, fuzz-encrusted cheeze-its off the car floor.
But today, for some unknown reason I not only didn't enjoy the benefit of having my hunger alleviated by exercise, but instead, I GOT HUNGRIER! I was ready to eat my own sweat towel by the time I left tonight.
You know, exercise is hard enough for me, but when it makes me feel even hungrier than I already am, it just makes me angry. Hungry and angry is a bad combination. It usually leads to a drive by Taco Belling in my case. Luckily, I had to go pick up Lily from her grandparents, so I didn't have time to make a run for the border.
I'm still pretty frustrated though.
One of my Facebook friends once wrote something that made absolutely no sense to me. She wrote, "A day without sweat is like a day without sunshine." I understand all of those words individually, but put together in a sentence like that, they become some sort of weird, moon-man language. I think my friend is somewhat...how do I put this delicately?.....deranged. That may a little strong. Hmmm, how about deeply misguided. I just don't get why anyone would want to sweat on purpose. I do it because I have to. Not because I want to.
Maybe someday I will want to. And maybe someday giant squid-juggling, Portuguese-speaking monkeys will fly out of my butt.
You never know.
I hate to harp on this subject, but I just really was disappointed in my workout tonight.
The one thing, ONE THING, I like about exercise really failed me tonight.
The absolute only good thing about exercise is that....
well, I guess exercise is helping me to lose weight, and that is pretty important to me.
Let's try this again....
Okay, the 2nd (only) good thing about exercise is that...
well...I guess exercise is good for my heart and other goo-covered body parts inside me.
Sigh...I may have to rethink this...
Alright, the 3rd (only) good thing about exercise (and I mean it this time!) is that...
it keeps me from being hungry!
That's right! If we ignore those first two exercise-related glitches above, the number
Now, to be honest, I've never gone to the gym really hungry. I always try to eat a little something, like a string cheese and a banana to at least have something in my belly before I beat my body into utter submission. Usually I enter the gym a little on the hungry side, but by the time I leave, the hunger has completely subsided. I do get hungry within an hour or so, but the workout gives me a chance to get home and make some dinner before I am completely starving and eating stale, leftover, fuzz-encrusted cheeze-its off the car floor.
But today, for some unknown reason I not only didn't enjoy the benefit of having my hunger alleviated by exercise, but instead, I GOT HUNGRIER! I was ready to eat my own sweat towel by the time I left tonight.
You know, exercise is hard enough for me, but when it makes me feel even hungrier than I already am, it just makes me angry. Hungry and angry is a bad combination. It usually leads to a drive by Taco Belling in my case. Luckily, I had to go pick up Lily from her grandparents, so I didn't have time to make a run for the border.
I'm still pretty frustrated though.
One of my Facebook friends once wrote something that made absolutely no sense to me. She wrote, "A day without sweat is like a day without sunshine." I understand all of those words individually, but put together in a sentence like that, they become some sort of weird, moon-man language. I think my friend is somewhat...how do I put this delicately?.....deranged. That may a little strong. Hmmm, how about deeply misguided. I just don't get why anyone would want to sweat on purpose. I do it because I have to. Not because I want to.
Maybe someday I will want to. And maybe someday giant squid-juggling, Portuguese-speaking monkeys will fly out of my butt.
You never know.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Hello, my name is Dorian, and I am an over-eater.
The first step is acceptance, isn't it?
This weekend was a hard one in terms of food choices and over-indulgence. No, wait, let's just call it what is is: GLUTTONY. I am a glutton. I want too much food. I don't know why, I just know that I do.
Okay, time to don your priestly vestments, because its confession time...
Every single meal this weekend was eaten out. Every single one. And for some reason I usually see eating out as a time of celebration. Instead of making the best and healthiest decisions I could have made, I decided to settle for what was convenient and cheese-smothered.
Saturday breakfast: 2 bacon burritos from Sonic
Saturday lunch: (this is my only shining moment of an attempt to eat healthy) part of a sub sandwich and fruit
Saturday dinner: Breadeaux's pizza and cheese sticks
Sunday brunch: Sweet Tomatoes (soup/salad buffet with too many baked yummies)
Sunday dinner: Jose Pepper's cheese-covered chicken burrito
Uggh....my poor colon is going to be blocked for days after all that cheese and lack of veggies.
You know, eating crappy, fat-laden food is one thing. But eating way too much of it is quite another.
I don't know why it is that I can't seem to stop when I'm full. I feel like I have to be stuffed when I'm eating something "naughty" like pizza or Mexican food. I nearly waddled home the other night after practically forcing myself to eat chips and salsa along with my cheese-injected burrito. What is wrong with me?!?
The problem, in part, had to do with my utter lack of exercise this past weekend. My schedule got changed unexpectedly on both Friday night and Saturday morning, and I was unable to hit the gym either day. By Sunday, I was so lazy, that I cited 'spending time with my husband' as my reason for not getting out to 24 Hour Fitness in the morning while I had a couple of free hours. I feel like a lazy, bloated schmuk.
And why is it that when life starts becoming all unpredictable, it just keeps on coming?
The dryer died on us, so instead of heading to the gym last night and alleviating my lethargy, I had to take 6 loads of wet laundry to the laundromat to dry. When I got home at 10 last night, I wasn't going back out for anything! So, in all, that was 4 days of non exercise.
As much as I hate, hate, HATE exercise, not doing it is worse than doing it.
Today I went back and it was SO HARD! Forgetting my ipod's earphones wasn't helping things either, but the worst part was how difficult it was to get back into the groove. I was so wiped after just 10 minutes on the elliptical. I pushed on through though, mostly as a punishment to remind myself of how hard it was and to NOT DO IT AGAIN!! I simply couldn't do all the weights that I was used to. And the saddest part was that I had to lower the weight on the biceps curl. Sigh....
So I guess it's true that if you don't use it, you lose it.
Alright, did anyone see that wagon pass by here? I'm ready to get back on!
This weekend was a hard one in terms of food choices and over-indulgence. No, wait, let's just call it what is is: GLUTTONY. I am a glutton. I want too much food. I don't know why, I just know that I do.
Okay, time to don your priestly vestments, because its confession time...
Every single meal this weekend was eaten out. Every single one. And for some reason I usually see eating out as a time of celebration. Instead of making the best and healthiest decisions I could have made, I decided to settle for what was convenient and cheese-smothered.
Saturday breakfast: 2 bacon burritos from Sonic
Saturday lunch: (this is my only shining moment of an attempt to eat healthy) part of a sub sandwich and fruit
Saturday dinner: Breadeaux's pizza and cheese sticks
Sunday brunch: Sweet Tomatoes (soup/salad buffet with too many baked yummies)
Sunday dinner: Jose Pepper's cheese-covered chicken burrito
Uggh....my poor colon is going to be blocked for days after all that cheese and lack of veggies.
You know, eating crappy, fat-laden food is one thing. But eating way too much of it is quite another.
I don't know why it is that I can't seem to stop when I'm full. I feel like I have to be stuffed when I'm eating something "naughty" like pizza or Mexican food. I nearly waddled home the other night after practically forcing myself to eat chips and salsa along with my cheese-injected burrito. What is wrong with me?!?
The problem, in part, had to do with my utter lack of exercise this past weekend. My schedule got changed unexpectedly on both Friday night and Saturday morning, and I was unable to hit the gym either day. By Sunday, I was so lazy, that I cited 'spending time with my husband' as my reason for not getting out to 24 Hour Fitness in the morning while I had a couple of free hours. I feel like a lazy, bloated schmuk.
And why is it that when life starts becoming all unpredictable, it just keeps on coming?
The dryer died on us, so instead of heading to the gym last night and alleviating my lethargy, I had to take 6 loads of wet laundry to the laundromat to dry. When I got home at 10 last night, I wasn't going back out for anything! So, in all, that was 4 days of non exercise.
As much as I hate, hate, HATE exercise, not doing it is worse than doing it.
Today I went back and it was SO HARD! Forgetting my ipod's earphones wasn't helping things either, but the worst part was how difficult it was to get back into the groove. I was so wiped after just 10 minutes on the elliptical. I pushed on through though, mostly as a punishment to remind myself of how hard it was and to NOT DO IT AGAIN!! I simply couldn't do all the weights that I was used to. And the saddest part was that I had to lower the weight on the biceps curl. Sigh....
So I guess it's true that if you don't use it, you lose it.
Alright, did anyone see that wagon pass by here? I'm ready to get back on!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
As Far as the East is from the West
I've been thinking a lot about forgiveness this past week.
Forgiving others who have hurt me.
Forgiving myself.
Forgiving the past.
Forgiving in advance the hurts of the future.
In Christian Orthodoxy, we celebrate Great and Holy Lent for 6 weeks before Holy Week and then Pascha (Easter for the rest of you). The Sunday before we begin our Lenten journey is quite possibly the coolest Sunday of the year, right after Pascha (again, that's Easter for those of you who weren't paying attention). The Sunday that kicks off Lent has a very beautiful and exercise-friendly service called "Forgiveness Vespers."
Now, the word "vespers" means evening prayers. And the word "forgiveness"...well, let's hope you have some experience in giving it and receiving it. So the prayers we say that night are all about forgiveness. At the end of the service, and this is where it becomes a little sweat-inducing, we ask forgiveness of the priest, and every single parishioner there (whether he/she is Orthodox or not, mind you).
Now, I bet you are wondering how asking forgiveness could possibly work up a sweat. Good question! It's because in Orthodoxy, it's all about humility. We don't just go up to somebody and say, "Hey, sorry about giving you dirty looks at church last week when your cell phone went off...and interrupted the entire worship service." Oh no. We say to each other, "Please forgive me, my sister/brother, in any way I have offended you," and then we make a prostration before the person in total humility of our sins, and the person we're asking forgiveness from says "I forgive you," and they in turn ask forgiveness of you. This continues until you have asked/received forgiveness of everyone there, and made a prostration before them.
If you've never prostrated, or even know what it is...then you can check out this You Tube link and see it done. It involves a full bow to the floor, which done once or twice is no problem. However, at my first Forgiveness Sunday there were close to 60 people there, and that means 60 times of bowing and touching your head on the floor. My thighs were burning pieces of rubber by the end of the night, let me tell you.
Lent is quickly approaching, and so is Forgiveness Sunday. I'm a little happy to be apart of a small mission church at this time, because bowing in front of 12 people is much easier than bowing in front of 60. But, all this has me thinking of people who have hurt me in the past, and who I need to forgive.
How is this related in any way to losing weight? Well, I think it has to do with changing myself on the inside just as I'm trying to change myself on the outside. And as you'll soon discover, most of my past hurts have to do with my weight.
Let's travel back in time to my elementary school years....
I was probably 10 or 11 the first time I joined Weight Watchers with my mom. I was embarrassed to be the only kid there, but I went. Maybe for a month or two, I don't really remember how long it was. I know I didn't stick with it, because I really didn't care about it. I thought I was going to lose a bunch of weight and look normal right away. I didn't realize that it was actually going to require hard work on my part.
When I went to school, I'd sometimes take my lunch, and my mom would put my jello or pudding or whatever in plastic containers that she had saved. Well, W.W. had a margarine that we used, and sometimes my mom packed my food in that container, and I can remember the boys at the end of the table where I sat mooing at me and making fun of me for having the WW container. They didn't know I was actually doing WW, they just were being imbeciles. But I can remember the feeling of shame and embarrassment.
These samea**holes ahem...jerks...would bounce up and down on the benches when I sat down at the table, as if I had caused a great big 5.0 tremor. I don't know their names or remember their faces. I just remember the pain, and how I've been carrying that around for about 20 some-odd years now.
Another bright and shining moment of pain was from a boy who I'll call "Mike"...because that's his actual name. (I'm not here to protect the innocent...he wasn't innocent at all.) Mike seemed to want to torture me whenever he got bored. Once at the playground he got in my face and pushed me backwards over some other friends of his who got on the ground behind me on their hands and knees so I'd stumble over them and fall on my butt. I did. It was pretty embarrassing.
This same gem of a human being constantly called me "fatty" when I saw him at the swimming pool. I thought my brilliant reply of "I may be fat, but you're ugly and I can always go on a diet," would make me feel better, but it really didn't. He pretty much left me alone after grade school, but I had to see him all the way through college, and every time I did, I felt 10 inches small.
This last piece of work I'll call "Chris"...again, that's his actual name. He seemed to take extreme pleasure in taunting me throughout my 7th grade year. I unfortunately had 2 classes with this guy, Physical Science and PE. In science he sat right in front of me and refused to leave me alone. He'd throw stuff at me, knock my stuff on the floor, make rude comments about me, pretty much do everything to make my life hell in that class. But by far, the worse was gym class.
Most of the time, the girls and boys were separated during PE. The only time we really did anything together was during the Square Dancing unit. You can see where I'm going with this, can't you... Well, guess who was my partner more often than not. It was humiliating to be told to hold hands with this guy. He refused to hold hands, and when he finally acquiesced to holding my hands, he'd make these faces to show his utter disgust. I did kinda get him back the day that I'd had enough. I pulled out the big guns and did what any other girl would do. I cried. Loudly. He got all worried that the teachers would hear and that he would get in trouble. He apologized, and I never had another problem with him.
But the hurt is still there inside me.
It's not like I sit around dwelling on these things a lot. Just every once in awhile they come popping in my head, eliciting those same feelings all over again.
So I've decided that it's time to let them go. I know none of these people probably even remember who I am, not to mention what they did to hurt me. And I think I need to be done with giving them and my memories of them, the power to hurt me anymore. So, I'm going to forgive them.
So...
Mike...I forgive you.
Chris...I forgive you.
Stupid jerks at the lunch table....I forgive you.
And to myself, I forgive me also for having held onto these things and letting them embitter me and make me feel puny and small in my own eyes. I am a child of the King, and there is nothing small or puny about that.
Forgiving others who have hurt me.
Forgiving myself.
Forgiving the past.
Forgiving in advance the hurts of the future.
In Christian Orthodoxy, we celebrate Great and Holy Lent for 6 weeks before Holy Week and then Pascha (Easter for the rest of you). The Sunday before we begin our Lenten journey is quite possibly the coolest Sunday of the year, right after Pascha (again, that's Easter for those of you who weren't paying attention). The Sunday that kicks off Lent has a very beautiful and exercise-friendly service called "Forgiveness Vespers."
Now, the word "vespers" means evening prayers. And the word "forgiveness"...well, let's hope you have some experience in giving it and receiving it. So the prayers we say that night are all about forgiveness. At the end of the service, and this is where it becomes a little sweat-inducing, we ask forgiveness of the priest, and every single parishioner there (whether he/she is Orthodox or not, mind you).
Now, I bet you are wondering how asking forgiveness could possibly work up a sweat. Good question! It's because in Orthodoxy, it's all about humility. We don't just go up to somebody and say, "Hey, sorry about giving you dirty looks at church last week when your cell phone went off...and interrupted the entire worship service." Oh no. We say to each other, "Please forgive me, my sister/brother, in any way I have offended you," and then we make a prostration before the person in total humility of our sins, and the person we're asking forgiveness from says "I forgive you," and they in turn ask forgiveness of you. This continues until you have asked/received forgiveness of everyone there, and made a prostration before them.
If you've never prostrated, or even know what it is...then you can check out this You Tube link and see it done. It involves a full bow to the floor, which done once or twice is no problem. However, at my first Forgiveness Sunday there were close to 60 people there, and that means 60 times of bowing and touching your head on the floor. My thighs were burning pieces of rubber by the end of the night, let me tell you.
Lent is quickly approaching, and so is Forgiveness Sunday. I'm a little happy to be apart of a small mission church at this time, because bowing in front of 12 people is much easier than bowing in front of 60. But, all this has me thinking of people who have hurt me in the past, and who I need to forgive.
How is this related in any way to losing weight? Well, I think it has to do with changing myself on the inside just as I'm trying to change myself on the outside. And as you'll soon discover, most of my past hurts have to do with my weight.
Let's travel back in time to my elementary school years....
I was probably 10 or 11 the first time I joined Weight Watchers with my mom. I was embarrassed to be the only kid there, but I went. Maybe for a month or two, I don't really remember how long it was. I know I didn't stick with it, because I really didn't care about it. I thought I was going to lose a bunch of weight and look normal right away. I didn't realize that it was actually going to require hard work on my part.
When I went to school, I'd sometimes take my lunch, and my mom would put my jello or pudding or whatever in plastic containers that she had saved. Well, W.W. had a margarine that we used, and sometimes my mom packed my food in that container, and I can remember the boys at the end of the table where I sat mooing at me and making fun of me for having the WW container. They didn't know I was actually doing WW, they just were being imbeciles. But I can remember the feeling of shame and embarrassment.
These same
Another bright and shining moment of pain was from a boy who I'll call "Mike"...because that's his actual name. (I'm not here to protect the innocent...he wasn't innocent at all.) Mike seemed to want to torture me whenever he got bored. Once at the playground he got in my face and pushed me backwards over some other friends of his who got on the ground behind me on their hands and knees so I'd stumble over them and fall on my butt. I did. It was pretty embarrassing.
This same gem of a human being constantly called me "fatty" when I saw him at the swimming pool. I thought my brilliant reply of "I may be fat, but you're ugly and I can always go on a diet," would make me feel better, but it really didn't. He pretty much left me alone after grade school, but I had to see him all the way through college, and every time I did, I felt 10 inches small.
This last piece of work I'll call "Chris"...again, that's his actual name. He seemed to take extreme pleasure in taunting me throughout my 7th grade year. I unfortunately had 2 classes with this guy, Physical Science and PE. In science he sat right in front of me and refused to leave me alone. He'd throw stuff at me, knock my stuff on the floor, make rude comments about me, pretty much do everything to make my life hell in that class. But by far, the worse was gym class.
Most of the time, the girls and boys were separated during PE. The only time we really did anything together was during the Square Dancing unit. You can see where I'm going with this, can't you... Well, guess who was my partner more often than not. It was humiliating to be told to hold hands with this guy. He refused to hold hands, and when he finally acquiesced to holding my hands, he'd make these faces to show his utter disgust. I did kinda get him back the day that I'd had enough. I pulled out the big guns and did what any other girl would do. I cried. Loudly. He got all worried that the teachers would hear and that he would get in trouble. He apologized, and I never had another problem with him.
But the hurt is still there inside me.
It's not like I sit around dwelling on these things a lot. Just every once in awhile they come popping in my head, eliciting those same feelings all over again.
So I've decided that it's time to let them go. I know none of these people probably even remember who I am, not to mention what they did to hurt me. And I think I need to be done with giving them and my memories of them, the power to hurt me anymore. So, I'm going to forgive them.
So...
Mike...I forgive you.
Chris...I forgive you.
Stupid jerks at the lunch table....I forgive you.
And to myself, I forgive me also for having held onto these things and letting them embitter me and make me feel puny and small in my own eyes. I am a child of the King, and there is nothing small or puny about that.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The Incredible Shrinking Woman
Yep, that's me!
This week's weight loss was 3.0 lbs exactly! Making my total weigh loss for the year so far...wait for it...11.2 pounds! Woo hoo!!!
Aaaaaaaaaand.....I also changed my middle digit from a 6 to a 5, so I've met my first "mini goal" which isn't so mini, now that I think about it. I'm at 259.8 lbs. (Have you ever told a bunch of people your real weight before? It's a scary thing. But, I think it's really helping me to be honest here and just get it all out in the open. It's not like I don't weigh that much if I keep it a secret. And it's not like people can't already see that I'm overweight. So, I might as well just lay it all out there and get over myself.)
Since I met my first weight loss goal, I get a reward! My reward is going to buy new work-out clothes. Something that makes me look fine and sexy, thank you very much! I don't think I'll be parading around in my sports bra and biker shorts anytime soon at the gym (Wouldn't that get some attention!), but I am going to get something that doesn't hang on me like a tent.
So yea for me! I'm pretty excited.
I think, however, I've most likely hit the end of my 3+ pound losses. I know I won't be able to keep losing so much weight every week, but I think I can be perfectly satisfied with losing anything, as long as I just keep losing!
So here's a shout out to all my peeps who are sweating, Weight Watching, ellipticalling, point tracking, food journaling, walking, South Beaching, high fibering (and farting) on their own weight loss journeys! We can do this! We are worth fighting for!
Friday, January 22, 2010
You're My Obsession!
I consider myself to be a pretty laid-back, type B sort of person. I roll with the punches, go with the flow, and pretty much don't get too worked up about anything.
Except weighing in.
Saturday weigh-ins make me turn me into an obsessive-compulsive, fanatical freakazoid that I hardly even recognize.
In case you didn't know it, the preparation for the Saturday weigh-in actually begins the day before. All day long on Friday, and even more so on Friday night, I'm uber-careful about the actual physical weight of my food. Some foods are completely verboten on Fridays: spaghetti, steaks, baked potatoes, lasagna...anything with substantial weight to it. I find that I'm not so much concerned with the actual points values of my foods on Fridays, though I have yet to ever go over my points the day before a weigh-in, I'm more concerned about how many ounces will magically disappear overnight and how many I'll still be saddled with the next day.
You've noticed that, haven't you? You weigh yourself before bed, then weigh again when you wake up (completely naked of course...which means you have to get up before anybody else does because NO ONE is seeing your naked belly rolls, except your 2-year old who doesn't count yet). And lo-and-behold, when you wake up you're a few pounds lighter than when you went to bed! It's like the magical fat fairy came by your room and liposuctioned some of you away.
So all that to say, I'm really careful about what I eat on Fridays. Though, I'm not always really smart about it. For example, a dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce, salad, and a slice of bread might cost me 12 points in all that night. But, I can also go to Dairy Queen and get a medium chocolate-dipped cone for 12 points, or a LARGE non-dipped cone for 12 points (points values may not be accurate, this is purely for illustrational purposes, and I'm too lazy right now to actually look up the points, but you get my point).
Spaghetti dinner??
Or the ice cream??
I know the spaghetti dinner will be satisfying and is somewhat good for me. I know that the ice cream will satisfy me for about 42 minutes before my stomach starts rumbling again and I crash from my sugar high. But, even though I know better....I usually would choose the ice cream. Do you know why, oh gentle reader?? Because, in my little head, ice cream melts making it a liquid, and I'm more likely to pee out the ice cream than I am to, well....""evacuate" the spaghetti....in time for my weigh in the next morning.
Sick? Delusional? Maybe. That's just how my twisted little mind works.
Actually, this is really indicative of a constant problem I have with being successful on Weight Watchers. I try to manipulate the plan so that I can eat crap and still lose weight. And it just doesn't seem to be working very well that way. I must be a slow learner, because for over 2 years I was trying to work the program this way. I admit, I did enjoy the ice cream, but I didn't enjoy the yo-yoing up and down...one pound loss this week, two pound gain the next.
I haven't had an ice-cream-for-dinner-Friday for a while now, but I know that I'm not yet cured of this OCD behavior. Another example of my fanaticism happens when I get dressed in the morning.
"Koichi! Have you seen my pair of blue underwear?"
"Your what??"
"My blue undies. You know, the pair with all the holes in it."
"Didn't you throw those away?"
"Throw them away! Are you crazy??? Those are my WEIGH IN DIDIES! I have to have them!"
I wear the exact same outfit every week. Snow, rain, or shine, the same pair of capris, same T-shirt, same socks (the little cuffed ones because I figure less fabric=less weight), same undies (if I can find them-see above-), and same bra.
I actually weighed all my bras to find the lightest one. It has a special place of honor in my underwear drawer.
I recently had to change my weigh-in outfit and it was really, really hard. The capris, though comfy, are not so warm in the snow. Plus, I haven't shaved my legs since October and I'm afraid of someone thinking I'm a Sasquatch. That's kind of embarrassing, because you know the person next to you is trying not to look at you when you cross your legs, but then you see them out of the corner of your eye, and they see you see them, and they're embarrassed, and you're embarrassed, and it's a whole big mess that is better when avoided. I know, I could just shave my legs, but I choose to retain as much warmth as possible during the winter.
So tomorrow's the day and I've already got my weigh-in outfit all laid out. (Yes, I did find my undies, thank you very much. I just KNEW you were curious about that!)
Except weighing in.
Saturday weigh-ins make me turn me into an obsessive-compulsive, fanatical freakazoid that I hardly even recognize.
In case you didn't know it, the preparation for the Saturday weigh-in actually begins the day before. All day long on Friday, and even more so on Friday night, I'm uber-careful about the actual physical weight of my food. Some foods are completely verboten on Fridays: spaghetti, steaks, baked potatoes, lasagna...anything with substantial weight to it. I find that I'm not so much concerned with the actual points values of my foods on Fridays, though I have yet to ever go over my points the day before a weigh-in, I'm more concerned about how many ounces will magically disappear overnight and how many I'll still be saddled with the next day.
You've noticed that, haven't you? You weigh yourself before bed, then weigh again when you wake up (completely naked of course...which means you have to get up before anybody else does because NO ONE is seeing your naked belly rolls, except your 2-year old who doesn't count yet). And lo-and-behold, when you wake up you're a few pounds lighter than when you went to bed! It's like the magical fat fairy came by your room and liposuctioned some of you away.
So all that to say, I'm really careful about what I eat on Fridays. Though, I'm not always really smart about it. For example, a dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce, salad, and a slice of bread might cost me 12 points in all that night. But, I can also go to Dairy Queen and get a medium chocolate-dipped cone for 12 points, or a LARGE non-dipped cone for 12 points (points values may not be accurate, this is purely for illustrational purposes, and I'm too lazy right now to actually look up the points, but you get my point).
Spaghetti dinner??
Or the ice cream??
I know the spaghetti dinner will be satisfying and is somewhat good for me. I know that the ice cream will satisfy me for about 42 minutes before my stomach starts rumbling again and I crash from my sugar high. But, even though I know better....I usually would choose the ice cream. Do you know why, oh gentle reader?? Because, in my little head, ice cream melts making it a liquid, and I'm more likely to pee out the ice cream than I am to, well....""evacuate" the spaghetti....in time for my weigh in the next morning.
Sick? Delusional? Maybe. That's just how my twisted little mind works.
Actually, this is really indicative of a constant problem I have with being successful on Weight Watchers. I try to manipulate the plan so that I can eat crap and still lose weight. And it just doesn't seem to be working very well that way. I must be a slow learner, because for over 2 years I was trying to work the program this way. I admit, I did enjoy the ice cream, but I didn't enjoy the yo-yoing up and down...one pound loss this week, two pound gain the next.
I haven't had an ice-cream-for-dinner-Friday for a while now, but I know that I'm not yet cured of this OCD behavior. Another example of my fanaticism happens when I get dressed in the morning.
"Koichi! Have you seen my pair of blue underwear?"
"Your what??"
"My blue undies. You know, the pair with all the holes in it."
"Didn't you throw those away?"
"Throw them away! Are you crazy??? Those are my WEIGH IN DIDIES! I have to have them!"
I wear the exact same outfit every week. Snow, rain, or shine, the same pair of capris, same T-shirt, same socks (the little cuffed ones because I figure less fabric=less weight), same undies (if I can find them-see above-), and same bra.
I actually weighed all my bras to find the lightest one. It has a special place of honor in my underwear drawer.
I recently had to change my weigh-in outfit and it was really, really hard. The capris, though comfy, are not so warm in the snow. Plus, I haven't shaved my legs since October and I'm afraid of someone thinking I'm a Sasquatch. That's kind of embarrassing, because you know the person next to you is trying not to look at you when you cross your legs, but then you see them out of the corner of your eye, and they see you see them, and they're embarrassed, and you're embarrassed, and it's a whole big mess that is better when avoided. I know, I could just shave my legs, but I choose to retain as much warmth as possible during the winter.
So tomorrow's the day and I've already got my weigh-in outfit all laid out. (Yes, I did find my undies, thank you very much. I just KNEW you were curious about that!)
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Every Little Beat of My Heart Now, Baby!
After several weeks of exercising on a (somewhat) regular basis, I have come to a grand conclusion:
Exercise sucks!
I hate it. I mean, I really, really loathe every single minute of it. The sweat. The achyness. The afore-blogged flatulence. None of it is any fun.
Yesterday, I thought my loathing of all things exercise related was finally calming down a bit, become more a general disdain than an all-out hate. I was able to keep my intensity level up for 20 minutes on the elliptical, even when the resistance started to get really hard. For a few blissful, endorphin-laced moments I thought, "Hey, this might not be so bad afterall."
Lies!
It is that bad.
Here's my trip to the gym today:
-Leg cramp in thigh and calf before I even get anywhere near the gym.
-Angry preschooler doesn't want to go to gym's Kid's Club today. Screams, clamps onto my body, and provides everyone with a great demonstration on how to throw a truly successful tantrum.
--Said preschooler is left in the Kids Club anyway.
--Trouble finding a gym locker that isn't already being used. Somewhat amazed and astonished by all the trusting people that throw their purses and other belongings in a locker without a lock. (However, I am now $50 richer! No, no! I kid! I kid!)
--One elliptical left open next to anorexic-looking girl and big, buff muscle-builder guy. Big sigh....
--Big screen TV's showing nothing but basketball, political coverage, and a 'reality show' on MTV. Seriously, who let these people have the remote?!
--Four minutes into my workout...Boy, this seems a little tougher than yesterday when I was just breezing through the workout.
--Five minutes into the workout...Wow, this is A LOT harder than yesterday. How many minutes has it been? What? Five? Five?? You got to be *#@($ing kidding me.
--Eight minutes into the workout...No, I don't want to listen to "Baby Got Back." Who put this on my I-Pod anyway?
--Twelve minutes into my workout....Halfway there!! Almost halfway there!
--Thirteen minutes into my workout....Dangit, I thought I was almost halfway there!
--Fifteen minutes into my workout...Geez, finally!
--Sixteen minutes into my workout...Why am I doing this again?
--Eighteen minutes into my workout...No, seriously, WHY am I doing this again??
--Twenty-one minutes into my workout...Breathing must be optional here.
--Twenty-four minutes into my workout...Staying vertical should be optional too...maybe I can kinda lay on the arm rests a bit, and OOPS! No, I guess I can't.
--Twenty-seven minutes into my workout...Only 3 minutes left, cummon' give it all you got!!
--Twenty-seven minutes and 19 seconds into my workout...Okay, that's all I got.
--Twenty-eight minutes into my workout....Ignore pain in buttocks. Ignore pain in buttocks. Ignore pain...
--Twenty-nine minutes into my workout...ACK! This hurts! Oh the pain, the pain!
--Thirty-minutes into my workout...Heart rate 150...I wonder if that's good or not. Oh look at the pretty red blinking lights on the monitor.
--Thirty-one minutes into my workout....Oh cool down, how I have longed to see you.
--Thirty-two minutes into my workout...Yes!! Done!! Where's my gold star??
--One minute after my workout...Sweaty. Stinky. Gross. But I did it!!!
--Two minutes after my workout...Maybe I could stop for some ice cream. DOH!!!
Exercise sucks!
I hate it. I mean, I really, really loathe every single minute of it. The sweat. The achyness. The afore-blogged flatulence. None of it is any fun.
Yesterday, I thought my loathing of all things exercise related was finally calming down a bit, become more a general disdain than an all-out hate. I was able to keep my intensity level up for 20 minutes on the elliptical, even when the resistance started to get really hard. For a few blissful, endorphin-laced moments I thought, "Hey, this might not be so bad afterall."
Lies!
It is that bad.
Here's my trip to the gym today:
-Leg cramp in thigh and calf before I even get anywhere near the gym.
-Angry preschooler doesn't want to go to gym's Kid's Club today. Screams, clamps onto my body, and provides everyone with a great demonstration on how to throw a truly successful tantrum.
--Said preschooler is left in the Kids Club anyway.
--Trouble finding a gym locker that isn't already being used. Somewhat amazed and astonished by all the trusting people that throw their purses and other belongings in a locker without a lock. (However, I am now $50 richer! No, no! I kid! I kid!)
--One elliptical left open next to anorexic-looking girl and big, buff muscle-builder guy. Big sigh....
--Big screen TV's showing nothing but basketball, political coverage, and a 'reality show' on MTV. Seriously, who let these people have the remote?!
--Four minutes into my workout...Boy, this seems a little tougher than yesterday when I was just breezing through the workout.
--Five minutes into the workout...Wow, this is A LOT harder than yesterday. How many minutes has it been? What? Five? Five?? You got to be *#@($ing kidding me.
--Eight minutes into the workout...No, I don't want to listen to "Baby Got Back." Who put this on my I-Pod anyway?
--Twelve minutes into my workout....Halfway there!! Almost halfway there!
--Thirteen minutes into my workout....Dangit, I thought I was almost halfway there!
--Fifteen minutes into my workout...Geez, finally!
--Sixteen minutes into my workout...Why am I doing this again?
--Eighteen minutes into my workout...No, seriously, WHY am I doing this again??
--Twenty-one minutes into my workout...Breathing must be optional here.
--Twenty-four minutes into my workout...Staying vertical should be optional too...maybe I can kinda lay on the arm rests a bit, and OOPS! No, I guess I can't.
--Twenty-seven minutes into my workout...Only 3 minutes left, cummon' give it all you got!!
--Twenty-seven minutes and 19 seconds into my workout...Okay, that's all I got.
--Twenty-eight minutes into my workout....Ignore pain in buttocks. Ignore pain in buttocks. Ignore pain...
--Twenty-nine minutes into my workout...ACK! This hurts! Oh the pain, the pain!
--Thirty-minutes into my workout...Heart rate 150...I wonder if that's good or not. Oh look at the pretty red blinking lights on the monitor.
--Thirty-one minutes into my workout....Oh cool down, how I have longed to see you.
--Thirty-two minutes into my workout...Yes!! Done!! Where's my gold star??
--One minute after my workout...Sweaty. Stinky. Gross. But I did it!!!
--Two minutes after my workout...Maybe I could stop for some ice cream. DOH!!!
Where the Rubber Meets the Road
Okay, so it's 6:30 in the morning, and I'm up a little late actually. I really, really shouldn't be blogging because I need to get the munchkin up and out the door to the babysitter so I can get to school. But....
I just did my morning ritual of weighing in the buff (they don't allow you to do that at Weight Watchers for some reason), and I'm down another 3 pounds so far this week.
Yeeeee!
I'm all excited and nervous at the same time. I weighed myself 5 times just to be sure, because sometimes the scale is a little finicky with me. When you weigh as much as I do, it's hard for the scale to be 100% accurate.
So now here's where the rubber really meets the road. In my former life (we'll call it, BB - before blogging), I would say Hip-Hooray! I can have a cookie now! And I would probably gain back 2 pounds before the "official" weigh in at Weight Watchers on Saturday. But now I'm MB (midst blogging), and I'm hoping things are different. Very, very slowly I see my attitude towards food changing. I'm very sloth-like though. Glaciers are probably receding faster than my attitude towards eating, but it is happening, and so that's something.
Stay focused.
Concentrate.
Visualize the goal.
Believe in yourself.
Be the ball. What???
Wax on. Wax off.
And keep your damn hands off the cookies!!
Okay then, that should do it.
I just did my morning ritual of weighing in the buff (they don't allow you to do that at Weight Watchers for some reason), and I'm down another 3 pounds so far this week.
Yeeeee!
I'm all excited and nervous at the same time. I weighed myself 5 times just to be sure, because sometimes the scale is a little finicky with me. When you weigh as much as I do, it's hard for the scale to be 100% accurate.
So now here's where the rubber really meets the road. In my former life (we'll call it, BB - before blogging), I would say Hip-Hooray! I can have a cookie now! And I would probably gain back 2 pounds before the "official" weigh in at Weight Watchers on Saturday. But now I'm MB (midst blogging), and I'm hoping things are different. Very, very slowly I see my attitude towards food changing. I'm very sloth-like though. Glaciers are probably receding faster than my attitude towards eating, but it is happening, and so that's something.
Stay focused.
Concentrate.
Visualize the goal.
Believe in yourself.
Be the ball. What???
Wax on. Wax off.
And keep your damn hands off the cookies!!
Okay then, that should do it.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Just say NO.
I don't have a lot of willpower. I realize that. I accept it. I admit it. I embrace it.
Obviously, being more than 100 pounds overweight, I was absent the day that God handed out willpower. I was likely over at the buffet, stuffing my face that day.
I just don't get those people that possess it. I'm amazed and somewhat awed by other people's ability to be offered a cupcake and TURN IT DOWN! How does someone do that???
Or be given a big ol' bar of gourmet chocolate and resign themselves to eat ONE TINY BITE A DAY!
That's insanity, in my gluttonous world.
I don't get it, and I imagine that I probably never will.
But, I can white-knuckle it for a little while, (I'm talking an infinitesimal amount of time here!) and I can be proud of my white-knuckle moments. I actually had 2 white-knuckle moments in a row, let's call them WKM's for short (WKM is pronounced "whack-em" by the way).
My first WKM moment occurred yesterday afternoon during the last hour of the school day. I was tired. Cranky. Ready to go home. Then, a bright and shining star walked through my door. A first grader having a birthday walked in my room and brought me a big ol' chocolate chip cookie because it was his birthday. Remember that? When you were little and you brought treats to share with the class? Well, nearly every week some kid shows up in my room with a treat. Most of the time, I've never seen the kid before in my life, but they swear I'm their mostest favoritest teacher ever and they just have to give me a birthday treat.
I took the cookie.
Just to be polite! I swear!
Okay, I was going to eat it. I was thinking about it. And if I had, it wouldn't have been a hugegantic deal. It was probably worth 4-5 points...but that was 4-5 points I was going to use to eat something else, like dinner. And I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop there. I'd just keep on going. So, I took a deep breath. Gave the cookie a fond farewell, and chucked it in the trash.
Yea me!!! I'm a rock star!! I hear the Rocky theme song playing right now!!
Wait....what's this? Is this a bag of leftover Christmas chocolate that a parent brought for our Christmas party and somehow got overlooked???
I seriously found this yesterday. It was sitting on top of my bookcase in a grocery sack along with a bag of Christmas tree soft mint chewy things. Now, the peppermints, even though they're pretty yummy, I can resist those....chocolate on the other hand, is a whole different story.
I'm like a meth addict when it comes to chocolate. If someone comes too close to my chocolate, they're bound to lose an eye or an appendage. Back off, sucka'!! I'm not a nice person when someone tries to take my chocolate.
But much like the cookie, chocolate starts an avalanche effect that leads to eating the entire bag, and then looking for more chocolate, and what the hey, let's have ice cream and pizza for dinner, and screw this I'm done with watching what I eat for the rest of the week.
I've had plenty of time to observe my behaviors, and I KNOW this is exactly what will happen if I do not plan ahead for chocolate consumption and/or I have chocolate leftovers sitting around to tempt me.
So, in the last 20 minutes of school, I put on a video for the kids to watch while we got packed up and ready to leave and handed out my chocolate so it no longer could taunt me with it's milky-fatty yumminess.
Yeah, for me and my WKM!! Two in one afternoon is some kind of record for me. Usually I only have one WKM in a week, if that.
I really think that my ability to white knuckle it through 2 temptations within the span of an hour is directly due to you, my readers. I have a few people checking out this blog and letting me know that they're pulling for me, and they encourage me to keep on keeping on. I knew if I blew it yesterday, I'd be blogging about it, and I couldn't think of anything amusing to say about giving in to temptation and then quitting the whole thing because of a stupid chocolate chip cookie and a forgotten bag of chocolate. So, thank you, whoever you are that is reading this. Thank you especially to my friends and family who have left feedback on the blog and Facebook. Your comments are what keep me motivated.
You rock.
Obviously, being more than 100 pounds overweight, I was absent the day that God handed out willpower. I was likely over at the buffet, stuffing my face that day.
I just don't get those people that possess it. I'm amazed and somewhat awed by other people's ability to be offered a cupcake and TURN IT DOWN! How does someone do that???
Or be given a big ol' bar of gourmet chocolate and resign themselves to eat ONE TINY BITE A DAY!
That's insanity, in my gluttonous world.
I don't get it, and I imagine that I probably never will.
But, I can white-knuckle it for a little while, (I'm talking an infinitesimal amount of time here!) and I can be proud of my white-knuckle moments. I actually had 2 white-knuckle moments in a row, let's call them WKM's for short (WKM is pronounced "whack-em" by the way).
My first WKM moment occurred yesterday afternoon during the last hour of the school day. I was tired. Cranky. Ready to go home. Then, a bright and shining star walked through my door. A first grader having a birthday walked in my room and brought me a big ol' chocolate chip cookie because it was his birthday. Remember that? When you were little and you brought treats to share with the class? Well, nearly every week some kid shows up in my room with a treat. Most of the time, I've never seen the kid before in my life, but they swear I'm their mostest favoritest teacher ever and they just have to give me a birthday treat.
I took the cookie.
Just to be polite! I swear!
Okay, I was going to eat it. I was thinking about it. And if I had, it wouldn't have been a hugegantic deal. It was probably worth 4-5 points...but that was 4-5 points I was going to use to eat something else, like dinner. And I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop there. I'd just keep on going. So, I took a deep breath. Gave the cookie a fond farewell, and chucked it in the trash.
Yea me!!! I'm a rock star!! I hear the Rocky theme song playing right now!!
Wait....what's this? Is this a bag of leftover Christmas chocolate that a parent brought for our Christmas party and somehow got overlooked???
I seriously found this yesterday. It was sitting on top of my bookcase in a grocery sack along with a bag of Christmas tree soft mint chewy things. Now, the peppermints, even though they're pretty yummy, I can resist those....chocolate on the other hand, is a whole different story.
I'm like a meth addict when it comes to chocolate. If someone comes too close to my chocolate, they're bound to lose an eye or an appendage. Back off, sucka'!! I'm not a nice person when someone tries to take my chocolate.
But much like the cookie, chocolate starts an avalanche effect that leads to eating the entire bag, and then looking for more chocolate, and what the hey, let's have ice cream and pizza for dinner, and screw this I'm done with watching what I eat for the rest of the week.
I've had plenty of time to observe my behaviors, and I KNOW this is exactly what will happen if I do not plan ahead for chocolate consumption and/or I have chocolate leftovers sitting around to tempt me.
So, in the last 20 minutes of school, I put on a video for the kids to watch while we got packed up and ready to leave and handed out my chocolate so it no longer could taunt me with it's milky-fatty yumminess.
Yeah, for me and my WKM!! Two in one afternoon is some kind of record for me. Usually I only have one WKM in a week, if that.
I really think that my ability to white knuckle it through 2 temptations within the span of an hour is directly due to you, my readers. I have a few people checking out this blog and letting me know that they're pulling for me, and they encourage me to keep on keeping on. I knew if I blew it yesterday, I'd be blogging about it, and I couldn't think of anything amusing to say about giving in to temptation and then quitting the whole thing because of a stupid chocolate chip cookie and a forgotten bag of chocolate. So, thank you, whoever you are that is reading this. Thank you especially to my friends and family who have left feedback on the blog and Facebook. Your comments are what keep me motivated.
You rock.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Bare Naked
Honesty.
I have a hard time being honest sometimes. (Though after my last post, you'd probably never know it.)
It's not that I lie....
It's that I have a hard time telling the whole, naked truth.
When I lived in Japan I got to experience an "onsen" which is a Japanese-style, public bath. It's not at all like bathing here. In fact, it hardly resembles bathing as we know it in the USA at all.
When one enters an onsen, the men and the women (usually, but not always) enter separate bathing areas. There's a locker room where you get undressed and grab what is the equivalent to a hand towel to cover up modestly. You enter the bathing area where there is a long row of hand-held shower heads, soaps, and tiny little buckets that you turn over and sit down on. You sit on a bucket, wash yourself thoroughly with the soap, rinse off every bubble, wash your hair, and then enter the pool-sized bathtub that's heated to just below scalding temperatures. That's an onsen.
Here's my first experience:
Mrs. Ogata, one of the English teachers at my school picks me up to take me to a local onsen in the mountains. It's my first experience and I'm a little nervous. We get to the hotel where the onsen is located and proceed to the girls' locker room. Mrs. Ogata, in all of her 4' 10" 65-year-old frame, whips off her clothes in 10 seconds flat, plops them in a basket and hands me one for my clothes. I'm still dressed.
Ogata-sensei (that's what you call a teacher in Japan) says she'll meet me in the shower room and leaves me there...still dressed. The coast is clear, so I quickly disrobe, roll my clothes into balls and throw them in the basket. I grab the handtowel I was given to cover up with, and soon realize that what was enough to cover up all of Ogata-sensei's bits and pieces is in no way going to cover up mine. I have to make a choice: North or South? I choose Sweden, and try to do my best by bending over and scrunching my North a little closer to the South.
So, somewhat resembling Quasimodo, I enter the shower room where a bunch of elderly ladies are sitting on top of buckets, or simply squatting down, giving themselves the most thorough washing I could have ever conceived of. Ogata-sensei is also in mid wash, and I realize I have another decision to make. The 'how close is too close' decision. Do I sit right by her? Do I leave a space in between? Or do I hightail it to the other end of the showers?
If you've never been overweight, then you might not understand the humiliating dilemma of having to squat down naked on top of a little bucket that just barely fits under one butt cheek. The bucket part is bad enough, but then when you sit down, there's tummy rolls to consider. It's all very embarrassing.
Ogata-sensei spots me. I must have stood there too long trying to decide what to do. She beckons me over and I take the shower next to her and try to take the fastest shower possible and not look at anybody.
I clean and scrub, and nearly run over to the bath, still Quasimodo-esqu, but happy to have the warm water cover and shelter my fragile embarrassed self.
This particular onsen was located on the edge of the sea, up in the mountains with a beautiful view. There were several different kinds of bath: a super-hot one, a super-cold bath for after a sauna, a milk bath, a lavender-bath...all sorts. But they all required that I get up, show my bare nakedness before my coworker and a bunch of strangers, and hobble over there. I wasn't about to do it. Even taking a look at the view required getting out of the bath to look out the window, and I didn't do that either.
It wasn't a very enjoyable experience my first time.
But I went back. And I went back again. And I went to other onsens with other coworkers and friends. Before long I was going to onsens with my "gaijin" (foreign American-looking) friends. I even went by myself a few times. And before long I loved going to onsens. Yeah, I still got a little nervous when I got undressed around a bunch of pencil-thin Japanese ladies, but I thought about it a lot less than that first time. It felt good to be able to be naked without embarrassment.
This blog is like my own personal onsen.
I come here, not knowing who is looking or reading, and I bare it all. It's a little scary sometimes to write down exactly what is in my heart because I don't know if someone is pointing and laughing at me. But, I've decided that I just don't care anymore about worrying about what other people think of me.
I don't mean that I'm oblivious about my reputation, or how people view me. But, I don't want to always be worrying about what others think, and whether they're judging me. I think this is where I have failed in my weight loss efforts in the past.
I've tried to keep my diet and exercise a secret, so that nobody would judge me. I never told anyone except my very closest friends how much I weighed, because I was afraid of feeling ashamed about what others might think about me. But hiding the truth like that never helped me. In fact, it made me much less accountable for what I was doing.
I could cheat on what I was eating, because no one knew any differently. If I missed a Weight Watchers meeting or a trip to the gym, no one was there to ask how my weigh-in went, because no one knew anything about it. Hiding myself hasn't helped me to lose any weight.
I've tried to lose weight so many times in the past. This time, it feels different. I'm being honest in cyberspace amongst friends, family, and strangers alike. Baring it all, and trying not to worry about what other people think about me.
So, welcome to my onsen. Enjoy the water. I'll be naked.
I have a hard time being honest sometimes. (Though after my last post, you'd probably never know it.)
It's not that I lie....
It's that I have a hard time telling the whole, naked truth.
When I lived in Japan I got to experience an "onsen" which is a Japanese-style, public bath. It's not at all like bathing here. In fact, it hardly resembles bathing as we know it in the USA at all.
When one enters an onsen, the men and the women (usually, but not always) enter separate bathing areas. There's a locker room where you get undressed and grab what is the equivalent to a hand towel to cover up modestly. You enter the bathing area where there is a long row of hand-held shower heads, soaps, and tiny little buckets that you turn over and sit down on. You sit on a bucket, wash yourself thoroughly with the soap, rinse off every bubble, wash your hair, and then enter the pool-sized bathtub that's heated to just below scalding temperatures. That's an onsen.
Here's my first experience:
Mrs. Ogata, one of the English teachers at my school picks me up to take me to a local onsen in the mountains. It's my first experience and I'm a little nervous. We get to the hotel where the onsen is located and proceed to the girls' locker room. Mrs. Ogata, in all of her 4' 10" 65-year-old frame, whips off her clothes in 10 seconds flat, plops them in a basket and hands me one for my clothes. I'm still dressed.
Ogata-sensei (that's what you call a teacher in Japan) says she'll meet me in the shower room and leaves me there...still dressed. The coast is clear, so I quickly disrobe, roll my clothes into balls and throw them in the basket. I grab the handtowel I was given to cover up with, and soon realize that what was enough to cover up all of Ogata-sensei's bits and pieces is in no way going to cover up mine. I have to make a choice: North or South? I choose Sweden, and try to do my best by bending over and scrunching my North a little closer to the South.
So, somewhat resembling Quasimodo, I enter the shower room where a bunch of elderly ladies are sitting on top of buckets, or simply squatting down, giving themselves the most thorough washing I could have ever conceived of. Ogata-sensei is also in mid wash, and I realize I have another decision to make. The 'how close is too close' decision. Do I sit right by her? Do I leave a space in between? Or do I hightail it to the other end of the showers?
If you've never been overweight, then you might not understand the humiliating dilemma of having to squat down naked on top of a little bucket that just barely fits under one butt cheek. The bucket part is bad enough, but then when you sit down, there's tummy rolls to consider. It's all very embarrassing.
Ogata-sensei spots me. I must have stood there too long trying to decide what to do. She beckons me over and I take the shower next to her and try to take the fastest shower possible and not look at anybody.
I clean and scrub, and nearly run over to the bath, still Quasimodo-esqu, but happy to have the warm water cover and shelter my fragile embarrassed self.
This particular onsen was located on the edge of the sea, up in the mountains with a beautiful view. There were several different kinds of bath: a super-hot one, a super-cold bath for after a sauna, a milk bath, a lavender-bath...all sorts. But they all required that I get up, show my bare nakedness before my coworker and a bunch of strangers, and hobble over there. I wasn't about to do it. Even taking a look at the view required getting out of the bath to look out the window, and I didn't do that either.
It wasn't a very enjoyable experience my first time.
But I went back. And I went back again. And I went to other onsens with other coworkers and friends. Before long I was going to onsens with my "gaijin" (foreign American-looking) friends. I even went by myself a few times. And before long I loved going to onsens. Yeah, I still got a little nervous when I got undressed around a bunch of pencil-thin Japanese ladies, but I thought about it a lot less than that first time. It felt good to be able to be naked without embarrassment.
This blog is like my own personal onsen.
I come here, not knowing who is looking or reading, and I bare it all. It's a little scary sometimes to write down exactly what is in my heart because I don't know if someone is pointing and laughing at me. But, I've decided that I just don't care anymore about worrying about what other people think of me.
I don't mean that I'm oblivious about my reputation, or how people view me. But, I don't want to always be worrying about what others think, and whether they're judging me. I think this is where I have failed in my weight loss efforts in the past.
I've tried to keep my diet and exercise a secret, so that nobody would judge me. I never told anyone except my very closest friends how much I weighed, because I was afraid of feeling ashamed about what others might think about me. But hiding the truth like that never helped me. In fact, it made me much less accountable for what I was doing.
I could cheat on what I was eating, because no one knew any differently. If I missed a Weight Watchers meeting or a trip to the gym, no one was there to ask how my weigh-in went, because no one knew anything about it. Hiding myself hasn't helped me to lose any weight.
I've tried to lose weight so many times in the past. This time, it feels different. I'm being honest in cyberspace amongst friends, family, and strangers alike. Baring it all, and trying not to worry about what other people think about me.
So, welcome to my onsen. Enjoy the water. I'll be naked.
Monday, January 18, 2010
I Fart in Your General Direction!
I bet that got your attention, didn't it?
And it's true. I fart on occassion. Oh, you do too, and you know it, so stop looking all shocked.
Now, there are certain high-fiber foods which, when I eat them, create a gastric pressure so intense that I can spend hours, if not the entire day, slowly "releasing pressure." I try to avoid these foods, if possible, but sometimes I lapse...as I did the other day.
There is a Healthy Choice frozen entree that I loooooooove. I think it's Mediterranean beans and orzo pasta, or something like that. It has the aforementioned beans and orzo mixed with dried cranberries, spinach, almonds and cheese. It's way yummy. And it has something like 19 grams of fiber. Woooo hooooooo that's enough fiber to light me up for a good long time.
Then, there are the Fiber One chocolate chip granola bars. Anything that has "fiber" in its name should definitely be eaten with care in my case. Just one bar has 9 grams of fiber and can get my juices flowing, if you know what I mean.
Fun sidebar....
Sometimes I get so hungry before lunch that I grab a Fiber One bar in the morning. Unfortunately, bathroom breaks are non-existant when you're a teacher, so I start wandering around the classroom while the kids are doing seatwork, and "relieve some pressure" while I'm pretending to check on them. Mostly I'm trying really hard to fart quietly.
So, the other day I had a Healthy Choice Mediterranean fiber medley and two (YES, TWO!!) Fiber One bars. I swear, if I could have somehow bottled my butt juice, I could have single-handedly solved the world's energy crisis that day. By the end of the day, I was in serious pain.
The problem with having so much gas in one's abdomen is that it doesn't come out all at once. There is no quick release, and then an Ahhhhhhh! moment. It's slow, tedious, highly uncomfortable, and most importantly, embarrassing. Fortunately, I was on my way to the one place that would help my gargantuan gastric conundrum: the gym.
I don't know why it is, but exercise really helps to....relieve pressure. Sometimes I feel sorry for the people standing next to me on the elliptical because once you're going all out at 164 cycles per minute at an incline of 10 and a resitance of 8, there's no squeezing your cheeks together to let out a dainty "faaaahhhht." Oh no, when it comes, there is nothing dainty about it. I'm talking the Hulk Hogan of farts here.
So I turn my I-Pod up a little, and continue to release all that is pent up within. And by the time I go home, I'm feeling pretty relieved.
Hey, by the way, you looking for an exercise buddy?
And it's true. I fart on occassion. Oh, you do too, and you know it, so stop looking all shocked.
Now, there are certain high-fiber foods which, when I eat them, create a gastric pressure so intense that I can spend hours, if not the entire day, slowly "releasing pressure." I try to avoid these foods, if possible, but sometimes I lapse...as I did the other day.
There is a Healthy Choice frozen entree that I loooooooove. I think it's Mediterranean beans and orzo pasta, or something like that. It has the aforementioned beans and orzo mixed with dried cranberries, spinach, almonds and cheese. It's way yummy. And it has something like 19 grams of fiber. Woooo hooooooo that's enough fiber to light me up for a good long time.
Then, there are the Fiber One chocolate chip granola bars. Anything that has "fiber" in its name should definitely be eaten with care in my case. Just one bar has 9 grams of fiber and can get my juices flowing, if you know what I mean.
Fun sidebar....
Sometimes I get so hungry before lunch that I grab a Fiber One bar in the morning. Unfortunately, bathroom breaks are non-existant when you're a teacher, so I start wandering around the classroom while the kids are doing seatwork, and "relieve some pressure" while I'm pretending to check on them. Mostly I'm trying really hard to fart quietly.
So, the other day I had a Healthy Choice Mediterranean fiber medley and two (YES, TWO!!) Fiber One bars. I swear, if I could have somehow bottled my butt juice, I could have single-handedly solved the world's energy crisis that day. By the end of the day, I was in serious pain.
The problem with having so much gas in one's abdomen is that it doesn't come out all at once. There is no quick release, and then an Ahhhhhhh! moment. It's slow, tedious, highly uncomfortable, and most importantly, embarrassing. Fortunately, I was on my way to the one place that would help my gargantuan gastric conundrum: the gym.
I don't know why it is, but exercise really helps to....relieve pressure. Sometimes I feel sorry for the people standing next to me on the elliptical because once you're going all out at 164 cycles per minute at an incline of 10 and a resitance of 8, there's no squeezing your cheeks together to let out a dainty "faaaahhhht." Oh no, when it comes, there is nothing dainty about it. I'm talking the Hulk Hogan of farts here.
So I turn my I-Pod up a little, and continue to release all that is pent up within. And by the time I go home, I'm feeling pretty relieved.
Hey, by the way, you looking for an exercise buddy?
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Bigger Than Life
What does that really mean, anyway? I thought it meant that someone was too good, too interesting, too amazing to do anything but live a rich and full life of uper-super-coolness.
But I'm come to realize that nothing is bigger than life. And no one is bigger than life, either.
(Okay, so this post is a little heavy for me, and it's not all fun and punny like my other posts. So be warned, because I cried through most of the writing, and had to stop writing all together several times because of the copious amounts of tears and snot. You have been duly warned.)
I used to think that my big brother, Dwain, was bigger than life.
He was so successful in so many arenas.
He was incredibly smart.
He had a nice paying job.
A beautiful home.
A wife who is wonderful.
A beautiful baby boy.
Family who adored him.
Incredible dreams and aspirations.
But he was so incredibly stupid and wasteful with his life, and I'm really mad at him for it.
His stupidity cost him his life, and now here I am, and here my family is, all of us with these gigantic holes in our hearts that aren't healing.
I loved my brother very much, and I still do. But he was dumb. Because he was wasteful. He spent most of his adult life sitting in front of a computer or a TV screen, rather than saving his life.
It wasn't entirely his fault though, because he didn't know his life was in imminent danger. Of course, he knew that being morbidly obese had certain dangers, but I don't think he really thought about the "morbidly" part of that. He never saw his overweight friends die, or had an overweight family member die at a young age, so I know it didn't hit home like it should have.
It's been 7 months since Dwain died, and I still have a hard time really believing he's gone. I dream about him sometimes. I have his voice on my answering machine when I need to hear him, and I visit his Facebook page fairly often. But mostly I miss him and cry for him, and I wonder when it will get easier, because it still feels just as hard as the first month of being without him.
And I can't help but wonder if I had been a better example, could I have helped him?
I was so proud of him for going through the gastric bypass last year. But none of us knew that it was too late. The damage to his heart had been going on for years. If I had been a better example, could I have helped him? I realize that I could not save him. I did not make his eating and exercise choices for him. But, I also know that I shared in the gluttony. I shared in the sloth. And I believe that my sin affects others in ways I can not comprehend, even when I think it only affects me.
Every time I exercise, I set my I-Pod (a present from Dwain, who was the most generous person I know) to a song that he had uploaded and that reminds me of him. It has a fast beat, and it helps me get my body moving and ready to sweat. I look at the picture of him on my screen saver and my heart breaks because he's become my inspiration through his death.
My brother was an incredible guy. One of the smartest, funniest, kindest, more generous men I've ever known. And I miss him so very much.
I love you Dwain, and I would give back every gluttonous moment if it could bring you back.
It sucks that the past can't be changed. And it sucks to not know what the future holds. So, since I can't change my past actions, and I can't know for certain the outcome of my own situation, I have to make the most with the NOW that I have to live in. I don't want to die of heart failure at 37. Or 47. Or 57. Or 67. Or even 77 if I can help it. In fact, heart failure is definitely not on my to-do list at all. The whole heart disease thing is something I want to steer right clear of. But I know that if I continue down the path that I've been strolling along up to now, I'm headed right for it. Dwain's death was a big "Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!" message for me. I really need to take this message to heart and make some lasting, serious changes in my life.
Dwain's life was very, very rich. He was the coolest guy I know, and he was one of my very best friends in the world. He taught me a lot about how to live, but he also taught me how not to die. I hope I can honestly say, "Lesson learned."
But I'm come to realize that nothing is bigger than life. And no one is bigger than life, either.
(Okay, so this post is a little heavy for me, and it's not all fun and punny like my other posts. So be warned, because I cried through most of the writing, and had to stop writing all together several times because of the copious amounts of tears and snot. You have been duly warned.)
I used to think that my big brother, Dwain, was bigger than life.
He was so successful in so many arenas.
He was incredibly smart.
He had a nice paying job.
A beautiful home.
A wife who is wonderful.
A beautiful baby boy.
Family who adored him.
Incredible dreams and aspirations.
But he was so incredibly stupid and wasteful with his life, and I'm really mad at him for it.
His stupidity cost him his life, and now here I am, and here my family is, all of us with these gigantic holes in our hearts that aren't healing.
I loved my brother very much, and I still do. But he was dumb. Because he was wasteful. He spent most of his adult life sitting in front of a computer or a TV screen, rather than saving his life.
It wasn't entirely his fault though, because he didn't know his life was in imminent danger. Of course, he knew that being morbidly obese had certain dangers, but I don't think he really thought about the "morbidly" part of that. He never saw his overweight friends die, or had an overweight family member die at a young age, so I know it didn't hit home like it should have.
It's been 7 months since Dwain died, and I still have a hard time really believing he's gone. I dream about him sometimes. I have his voice on my answering machine when I need to hear him, and I visit his Facebook page fairly often. But mostly I miss him and cry for him, and I wonder when it will get easier, because it still feels just as hard as the first month of being without him.
And I can't help but wonder if I had been a better example, could I have helped him?
I was so proud of him for going through the gastric bypass last year. But none of us knew that it was too late. The damage to his heart had been going on for years. If I had been a better example, could I have helped him? I realize that I could not save him. I did not make his eating and exercise choices for him. But, I also know that I shared in the gluttony. I shared in the sloth. And I believe that my sin affects others in ways I can not comprehend, even when I think it only affects me.
Every time I exercise, I set my I-Pod (a present from Dwain, who was the most generous person I know) to a song that he had uploaded and that reminds me of him. It has a fast beat, and it helps me get my body moving and ready to sweat. I look at the picture of him on my screen saver and my heart breaks because he's become my inspiration through his death.
My brother was an incredible guy. One of the smartest, funniest, kindest, more generous men I've ever known. And I miss him so very much.
I love you Dwain, and I would give back every gluttonous moment if it could bring you back.
It sucks that the past can't be changed. And it sucks to not know what the future holds. So, since I can't change my past actions, and I can't know for certain the outcome of my own situation, I have to make the most with the NOW that I have to live in. I don't want to die of heart failure at 37. Or 47. Or 57. Or 67. Or even 77 if I can help it. In fact, heart failure is definitely not on my to-do list at all. The whole heart disease thing is something I want to steer right clear of. But I know that if I continue down the path that I've been strolling along up to now, I'm headed right for it. Dwain's death was a big "Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!" message for me. I really need to take this message to heart and make some lasting, serious changes in my life.
Dwain's life was very, very rich. He was the coolest guy I know, and he was one of my very best friends in the world. He taught me a lot about how to live, but he also taught me how not to die. I hope I can honestly say, "Lesson learned."
Things That Make You Go "Hmmmmm...."
To recap this last week...
I ate nearly an entire box of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies (yum)
I tracked my points maybe 2 days out of 7
I worked out only 2 days
I got a Sonic diet vanilla coke every single day of the working week (because I am addicted to caffeine, I see that now)
And yet....
Somehow....
I managed to lose 3.4 pounds this week!
Yeeeeee! I am overcome with giddiness.
I have no idea how it happened. But I'm so very thankful that it did. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
And to celebrate my astonishing weight loss I ate up 70 points' worth of food.
Yes, that's a lot of food. BUT, I counted each and every single point, which is a big step for me.
AND, I still have 5 activity points banked up to use this week, and can add even more activity points to those when I work out this week, so I can still eat this week and not feel completely deprived.
Yea me!
I am an Amazon Woman! Roar!!
I ate nearly an entire box of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies (yum)
I tracked my points maybe 2 days out of 7
I worked out only 2 days
I got a Sonic diet vanilla coke every single day of the working week (because I am addicted to caffeine, I see that now)
And yet....
Somehow....
I managed to lose 3.4 pounds this week!
Yeeeeee! I am overcome with giddiness.
I have no idea how it happened. But I'm so very thankful that it did. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
And to celebrate my astonishing weight loss I ate up 70 points' worth of food.
Yes, that's a lot of food. BUT, I counted each and every single point, which is a big step for me.
AND, I still have 5 activity points banked up to use this week, and can add even more activity points to those when I work out this week, so I can still eat this week and not feel completely deprived.
Yea me!
I am an Amazon Woman! Roar!!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Taking My Pulse
Okay, so 2 weeks down now, and 50 left to go. I'm taking a moment to look over the last 2 weeks and do a little self-assessment...
Week 1: Awesome. I rocked. I rolled. I kicked butt and started taking names.
Week 2: Mediocre: Work started back up. Sick kid to take care of. Novelty wearing off. No time to blog. So, I'm sure I won't do nearly as well tomorrow at my weigh in. In fact, right now I'm just hoping to have a loss.
I only worked out 3 days this week with the craziness of the week happening all around me. I'd planned for more, but Lily's illness really took a toll and the first 3 days I had to rush back home to take care of her after work. Finally yesterday and today I was able to work out, and I'll be able to work out tomorrow too after WW, but it's a day short of my 4-day-a-week-go-gettum'-plan. Some days I guess I'll just have to deal with the realities of life and do what I can with what I can and take what I can.
So here's to a new week! Week 3, get ready to have your world shaken' upside down!
Week 1: Awesome. I rocked. I rolled. I kicked butt and started taking names.
Week 2: Mediocre: Work started back up. Sick kid to take care of. Novelty wearing off. No time to blog. So, I'm sure I won't do nearly as well tomorrow at my weigh in. In fact, right now I'm just hoping to have a loss.
I only worked out 3 days this week with the craziness of the week happening all around me. I'd planned for more, but Lily's illness really took a toll and the first 3 days I had to rush back home to take care of her after work. Finally yesterday and today I was able to work out, and I'll be able to work out tomorrow too after WW, but it's a day short of my 4-day-a-week-go-gettum'-plan. Some days I guess I'll just have to deal with the realities of life and do what I can with what I can and take what I can.
So here's to a new week! Week 3, get ready to have your world shaken' upside down!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Awkward Silence
You know how when you're with friends, and you're all talking and laughing and having a great time. Then there's that moment when you're all talked out and the laughing dies down, and you're not really sure what to say next, and neither is anyone else, and there's this big silence that fills the room and you can't help but realize how everyone's run out of things to say and it's becoming somewhat awkward?
Well, that's totally not what's happening here.
So don't worry.
Life has been happening, and that's a completely different get together with friends.
Actually, I had to go back to work this week. Durned tax payers demanding their kids get edu-ma-cated now that the temperature is only 10 below freezing. And since I went back to work I haven't really had time or energy to post on the blog for the past couple of days. But, I'm back, I'm back, and ready to muse on the past day's eating and excercise (and the lack thereof....not the eating, there's been plenty of that, but the exercise).
So here's what I'm thinking tonight....
D*mn girl scout cookies are too d*mned yummy, and I'm pissed about it. (And I'm slightly amused at my use of asterisk...like I'm a teenager or something worried about getting in trouble for cussing in front of my mom. Hi, mom!)
I bought a box of thin mints from one of my students from last year. I felt sorry for her trying to peddle her wares in this depressed economy. I felt I should show my support for her attempts to socialize in an acceptable manner. I felt....okay, the truth is I wanted the damned cookies. So I bought them. And they arrived today.
$3.50 for 32 chocolaty minty wafers of sin. That's about 12 cents per sin-filled mouthful. And it was a sin, not because thin mints are sinful in and of themselves, but because they lead to much gluttony, much, much gluttony.
Okay, now truth be told, gluttony today was not nearly as bad as gluttony 6 months ago. Partly because I stripped the house of nearly everything containing sugar a few days after Christmas. Koichi was under strict orders to hide all the chocolate, and he did a pretty good job. I know. I looked for 20 minutes for chocolate, and I still haven't found any.
But back to the thin mints, which are now gone. I NEARLY ATE AN ENTIRE BOX OF GIRL SCOUT COOKIES! Look at me being honest. I didn't get through the entire box. I got disgusted with myself while I was chowing down on them on the way home tonight, and threw the rest in the trash. Okay, so I wasn't so much disgusted with myself as I was sick of the taste of chocolate mint, but there was some disgust mixed in there.
The problem with doing something like this is that I tend to keep going off the deep end. I can't just say, "Wow, I screwed up, I should stop this foolishness and eat extra-healthy the rest of the night and get back on plan tomorrow." Oh no. What I say is, "Well crap. There goes the evening. Might as well pig out the rest of the night cause I'm all screwed up now," and then I eat crap the rest of the night.
But, like I said before, it could have been worse. My binge was composed of a trip to Taco Bell where I got a chipotle steak taco salad and a chicken taquito. Then later in my quest for all things chocolate and hidden I found some whole nuts in the shell from Christmas in my stocking and I ate about 6 of them before I got sick of the taste of raw walnuts, almonds and hazelnuts. That was pretty much it. It could have been a whole lot worse. In fact, looking back on it now, I wouldn't even qualify as a binge eater. Bulimics would be embarrassed to be seen with me in that binge.
So here's to better choices tomorrow and no more damned Girl Scout cookies.
Well, that's totally not what's happening here.
So don't worry.
Life has been happening, and that's a completely different get together with friends.
Actually, I had to go back to work this week. Durned tax payers demanding their kids get edu-ma-cated now that the temperature is only 10 below freezing. And since I went back to work I haven't really had time or energy to post on the blog for the past couple of days. But, I'm back, I'm back, and ready to muse on the past day's eating and excercise (and the lack thereof....not the eating, there's been plenty of that, but the exercise).
So here's what I'm thinking tonight....
D*mn girl scout cookies are too d*mned yummy, and I'm pissed about it. (And I'm slightly amused at my use of asterisk...like I'm a teenager or something worried about getting in trouble for cussing in front of my mom. Hi, mom!)
I bought a box of thin mints from one of my students from last year. I felt sorry for her trying to peddle her wares in this depressed economy. I felt I should show my support for her attempts to socialize in an acceptable manner. I felt....okay, the truth is I wanted the damned cookies. So I bought them. And they arrived today.
$3.50 for 32 chocolaty minty wafers of sin. That's about 12 cents per sin-filled mouthful. And it was a sin, not because thin mints are sinful in and of themselves, but because they lead to much gluttony, much, much gluttony.
Okay, now truth be told, gluttony today was not nearly as bad as gluttony 6 months ago. Partly because I stripped the house of nearly everything containing sugar a few days after Christmas. Koichi was under strict orders to hide all the chocolate, and he did a pretty good job. I know. I looked for 20 minutes for chocolate, and I still haven't found any.
But back to the thin mints, which are now gone. I NEARLY ATE AN ENTIRE BOX OF GIRL SCOUT COOKIES! Look at me being honest. I didn't get through the entire box. I got disgusted with myself while I was chowing down on them on the way home tonight, and threw the rest in the trash. Okay, so I wasn't so much disgusted with myself as I was sick of the taste of chocolate mint, but there was some disgust mixed in there.
The problem with doing something like this is that I tend to keep going off the deep end. I can't just say, "Wow, I screwed up, I should stop this foolishness and eat extra-healthy the rest of the night and get back on plan tomorrow." Oh no. What I say is, "Well crap. There goes the evening. Might as well pig out the rest of the night cause I'm all screwed up now," and then I eat crap the rest of the night.
But, like I said before, it could have been worse. My binge was composed of a trip to Taco Bell where I got a chipotle steak taco salad and a chicken taquito. Then later in my quest for all things chocolate and hidden I found some whole nuts in the shell from Christmas in my stocking and I ate about 6 of them before I got sick of the taste of raw walnuts, almonds and hazelnuts. That was pretty much it. It could have been a whole lot worse. In fact, looking back on it now, I wouldn't even qualify as a binge eater. Bulimics would be embarrassed to be seen with me in that binge.
So here's to better choices tomorrow and no more damned Girl Scout cookies.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Drumroll, please!!
4.8 pounds gone this week!!
Woo hoo! I am a beast!
I would like to thank the Acadamy, my parents, my friends, my fans, and most of all God. Seriously though, a lot of prayer has gone into this week's efforts to work out, eat right, and track my points. God has been there to help me through it by providing motivation in the form of friends and family, and I'm very grateful.
So, to celebrate my tremendous weight loss, I worked out extra hard! I didn't cut out early this morning. I did the full 30 minutes, weight lifting, and stretching. I told ya, I'm a beast. Maybe because I was on a euphoric weight-loss high, but it didn't feel quite as hard to work out today. I am not a big fan of exercise, but today's little jaunt on the elliptical was not nearly as hard as it has been recently. Maybe I'm getting used to it...or maybe I am high on good weight-loss feelings, who knows.
So, 95.2 pounds left to go this year. Do-able. Challenging, but do-able.
I've decided to give myself a little mini-goal though, because 95 pounds is an awful lot. Right now I'm at 266.2 pounds. My first mini goal is to reach 259. I want to see that middle number change from a 6 to a 5. That's my first "big" mini-goal. And when I get there, I am going to reward myself with some new workout clothes. I haven't bought workout clothes for several years, and it shows. So this is good motivation for me.
Yea, me! I rock!!
Woo hoo! I am a beast!
I would like to thank the Acadamy, my parents, my friends, my fans, and most of all God. Seriously though, a lot of prayer has gone into this week's efforts to work out, eat right, and track my points. God has been there to help me through it by providing motivation in the form of friends and family, and I'm very grateful.
So, to celebrate my tremendous weight loss, I worked out extra hard! I didn't cut out early this morning. I did the full 30 minutes, weight lifting, and stretching. I told ya, I'm a beast. Maybe because I was on a euphoric weight-loss high, but it didn't feel quite as hard to work out today. I am not a big fan of exercise, but today's little jaunt on the elliptical was not nearly as hard as it has been recently. Maybe I'm getting used to it...or maybe I am high on good weight-loss feelings, who knows.
So, 95.2 pounds left to go this year. Do-able. Challenging, but do-able.
I've decided to give myself a little mini-goal though, because 95 pounds is an awful lot. Right now I'm at 266.2 pounds. My first mini goal is to reach 259. I want to see that middle number change from a 6 to a 5. That's my first "big" mini-goal. And when I get there, I am going to reward myself with some new workout clothes. I haven't bought workout clothes for several years, and it shows. So this is good motivation for me.
Yea, me! I rock!!
I claim these pants in the name of France!
Actually, I'm re-claiming pants. Pants that I have had for a long time, but haven't been able to wear. So far 2 pairs of pants have been reclaimed from my wardrobe. One is a pair of khakis that I used to wear all time. In fact, when I lost a lot of weight before they eventually became my "fat" pants because they were ridiculously too large for me. When I became pregnant with Lily, the fat pants became too small. I finally am able to get them on and they fit comfortably. So, they're not "fat" pants yet, but if I keep on working hard, they will be soon.
Another pair of pants that I have reclaimed from the bowels of my closet are a pair of black and neon green exercise pants. They go with a hoodie, and I was so excited to put them on the other day and see that they actually fit. In fact, I look pretty hot in them! They're a lot more form-fitting than my current pair of sweats, that's for sure. Koichi agreed I looked pretty sexy in them. :O) They're a lot nice to work out in, too. My other workout pants are both capris, and while they are uber-comfortable, they're a little chilly in this -20 degree windchill.
So yea for me! And yea for pants!!!
Another pair of pants that I have reclaimed from the bowels of my closet are a pair of black and neon green exercise pants. They go with a hoodie, and I was so excited to put them on the other day and see that they actually fit. In fact, I look pretty hot in them! They're a lot more form-fitting than my current pair of sweats, that's for sure. Koichi agreed I looked pretty sexy in them. :O) They're a lot nice to work out in, too. My other workout pants are both capris, and while they are uber-comfortable, they're a little chilly in this -20 degree windchill.
So yea for me! And yea for pants!!!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Throwing My Weight Around
After 20 minutes on the elliptical machine (I know! I know! I cut off 10 minutes today because I was late meeting someone...so sue me.), I lifted weights as usual. I have really come to love the Nautilus machines. I was too intimidated to use them for the longest time, though. I finally had to call my good friend, Heather, to get a pep talk one evening.
I was sitting in the parking lot, water and sweat towel in hand, and in the other hand I held my cell phone and was told, "You can do this! If you don't know what to do, act like a dumb blonde and get a big jock to help you out."
It worked.
Not acting like a dumb blonde. The pep talk.
It was totally meant to be that night. As I was doing my cardio, a girl got on the Nautilus circuit right in front of the elliptical machines. I had been eyeing the machines for weeks, but didn't know if I knew how to use them all, so I was too embarrassed to give them a try. But this girl starts at the machine on the end, right in front of me, and goes down the whole row. I watched her the whole time and got to see how to use and adjust each machine. It was Providence! So after I was done sweating on the elliptical, I tried them out and 'voila!' I was now an iron-pumping, muscle-building power chick!
So back to this morning....
I'm on the weight machines, and I save my very favorite for last. It's the leg press. I like it because I can push a lot of weight on it and it makes me feel buff. You start by sitting down on the seat, and putting your feet up in front of you against a metal pad that moves when you push on it. You're knees are practically to your chest when you begin, but then you press out and straighten your legs and push the weight. Lo and behold, quads, hamstrings, and butt all get a nice little workout.
Today I decided to really go for it and see how much weight I could press. One hundred and seventy pounds, my friends! I looked at the weight as I pushed it, and realized, that's how much I would weigh 100 pounds from now.
I was sitting in the parking lot, water and sweat towel in hand, and in the other hand I held my cell phone and was told, "You can do this! If you don't know what to do, act like a dumb blonde and get a big jock to help you out."
It worked.
Not acting like a dumb blonde. The pep talk.
It was totally meant to be that night. As I was doing my cardio, a girl got on the Nautilus circuit right in front of the elliptical machines. I had been eyeing the machines for weeks, but didn't know if I knew how to use them all, so I was too embarrassed to give them a try. But this girl starts at the machine on the end, right in front of me, and goes down the whole row. I watched her the whole time and got to see how to use and adjust each machine. It was Providence! So after I was done sweating on the elliptical, I tried them out and 'voila!' I was now an iron-pumping, muscle-building power chick!
So back to this morning....
I'm on the weight machines, and I save my very favorite for last. It's the leg press. I like it because I can push a lot of weight on it and it makes me feel buff. You start by sitting down on the seat, and putting your feet up in front of you against a metal pad that moves when you push on it. You're knees are practically to your chest when you begin, but then you press out and straighten your legs and push the weight. Lo and behold, quads, hamstrings, and butt all get a nice little workout.
Today I decided to really go for it and see how much weight I could press. One hundred and seventy pounds, my friends! I looked at the weight as I pushed it, and realized, that's how much I would weigh 100 pounds from now.
One week down! That's One! Ah, ah, ah!!!
I've been counting a lot of things this week with Count Von Count. One week on program! Ah, ah, ah!! Six days of working out! Ah, ah, ah!! Four days of journaling my food! Ah, ah, whaaaa?
Okay, so here is my big problem. Journaling. I hate it. I've always hated it. It's by far my biggest hurdle with Weight Watchers, and the kicker is that I know it's the #1 thing that will help me lose weight.
I'm not sure why I hate it so much. Maybe because it forces me to be accountable with what I'm really eating. Maybe it's just a pain trying to write it down. Maybe I'm just a lazy bum. Whatever the reason, I just don't want to do it.
So I'm trying to find some ways to motivate myself into keeping track of what I eat and really being accountable for every BLT (bite, lick and taste) that passes through my lips.
Here's what I think I'm going to do. I think I'm going to start keeping track of the number of days that I journal my daily food. I am thinking of maybe creating a bead necklace or something. Everyday that I journal I can add a bead to the string. After so many beads, say 10, I can earn a non-food related reward, like a new bottle of fingernail polish, or a cheap pair of earrings. And maybe after a larger number, like 50, I can earn a DVD or CD or something bigger.
I'm just trying to find ways to fight the hardest part of this battle. I think that if I can really be true to tracking my food everyday, that I will be able to beat the weight this year. Water I can do. (Thank goodness for Crystal Light!) Exercise I can even do. But tracking....that is something I've never been very good at doing.
So, from now on I'm going to make this the source of my focus. Tonight I will drop a bead on my string and say "5! 5 days tracking! Ah, ah, ah!!!"
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Ice Capades
Snow sucks.
I've come to that conclusion after the latest 5 inch dumpage on my driveway.
This morning my husband got the car stuck in a ditch....5 feet from our driveway! He had pulled into our driveway, and then had to get out of the car to open the garage door. When he tried to pull into the garage, the car could get no traction, so it couldn't move forward. So my husband attempted to back the car back into the street so he could gain some momentum and try it again. Unfortunately, the streets had not been plowed yet, so he couldn't see where the street ended and the ditch began. Hence, stuck in the ditch...5 feet from our driveway. Several hours and $75 later (Yikes!), the car once again rested peacefully in the garage.
While waiting for the very expensive tow truck to come pluck my husband's car from the ditch, I decided it would be a good use of my time to shovel the driveway. Since it looked like I wouldn't be able to get to the gym today while waiting for said tow truck to arrive, I thought I could get my workout in the great out of doors. Bad choice. It was $#@*!ing cold out there! And the wind kept blowing the snow in my face. And under the 14 inches of snow in the driveway (we didn't shovel the last time it snowed, so there's been some accumulation) is a nice thick layer of ice. An hour and half later the tow truck finally showed up and offered me a reprieve from my foray into manual labor. I was so blessedly thankful. My muscles were screaming by that time. And the loudest, most perturbed muscle of all was my butt, which is still sore.
The driveway does look better now, though it has a strange, bumpy ridge of ice down the middle and on one side that may be there until April. I'm okay with that though. And now the UPS guy won't curse my name every time he shows up because I finally shoveled the stairs, too. Though that also has a nice crunchy layer of ice as well. Hope he holds on to the handrail.
I wish the saying "I worked my butt off" were really true. It would be nice to see a lusciously voluptuous bum instead of a chunky butt all due to my workout on the tundra.
I've come to that conclusion after the latest 5 inch dumpage on my driveway.
This morning my husband got the car stuck in a ditch....5 feet from our driveway! He had pulled into our driveway, and then had to get out of the car to open the garage door. When he tried to pull into the garage, the car could get no traction, so it couldn't move forward. So my husband attempted to back the car back into the street so he could gain some momentum and try it again. Unfortunately, the streets had not been plowed yet, so he couldn't see where the street ended and the ditch began. Hence, stuck in the ditch...5 feet from our driveway. Several hours and $75 later (Yikes!), the car once again rested peacefully in the garage.
While waiting for the very expensive tow truck to come pluck my husband's car from the ditch, I decided it would be a good use of my time to shovel the driveway. Since it looked like I wouldn't be able to get to the gym today while waiting for said tow truck to arrive, I thought I could get my workout in the great out of doors. Bad choice. It was $#@*!ing cold out there! And the wind kept blowing the snow in my face. And under the 14 inches of snow in the driveway (we didn't shovel the last time it snowed, so there's been some accumulation) is a nice thick layer of ice. An hour and half later the tow truck finally showed up and offered me a reprieve from my foray into manual labor. I was so blessedly thankful. My muscles were screaming by that time. And the loudest, most perturbed muscle of all was my butt, which is still sore.
The driveway does look better now, though it has a strange, bumpy ridge of ice down the middle and on one side that may be there until April. I'm okay with that though. And now the UPS guy won't curse my name every time he shows up because I finally shoveled the stairs, too. Though that also has a nice crunchy layer of ice as well. Hope he holds on to the handrail.
I wish the saying "I worked my butt off" were really true. It would be nice to see a lusciously voluptuous bum instead of a chunky butt all due to my workout on the tundra.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Things to Look Forward to:
1. Shopping anywhere besides Lane Bryant and the *Womens* section of Wal-Mart
2. Having energy to do stuff
3. Being able to do stuff
4. Being able to run
5. Keeping up with Lily and not getting tired so quickly
6. Having choices when buying a bathing suit, other than black thigh-hiding, belly-sucking, cover as much as you can one pieces
7. Living as long as I can
8. Fitting in the seats comfortably at amusement parks
9. Fitting in the seats comfortably on an airplane
10. Fitting in the seats comfortably at a movie theater (do I sense I theme here?)
11. Not feeling ashamed of my weight
12. Being a good role model for my daughter
13. Getting rid of my fat girl clothes
14. Being able to buy shoes in regular sizes instead of whatever rejects are labeled "wide width"
15. Feeling more comfortable in my own skin
16. Enjoying *nookie* more
17. Feeling proud of what I've accomplished and how I look and feel
18. Not feeling so tired all the time
19. Buying a whole new wardrobe of cute clothes
20. Being more of what God intended for me to be
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2. Having energy to do stuff
3. Being able to do stuff
4. Being able to run
5. Keeping up with Lily and not getting tired so quickly
6. Having choices when buying a bathing suit, other than black thigh-hiding, belly-sucking, cover as much as you can one pieces
7. Living as long as I can
8. Fitting in the seats comfortably at amusement parks
9. Fitting in the seats comfortably on an airplane
10. Fitting in the seats comfortably at a movie theater (do I sense I theme here?)
11. Not feeling ashamed of my weight
12. Being a good role model for my daughter
13. Getting rid of my fat girl clothes
14. Being able to buy shoes in regular sizes instead of whatever rejects are labeled "wide width"
15. Feeling more comfortable in my own skin
16. Enjoying *nookie* more
17. Feeling proud of what I've accomplished and how I look and feel
18. Not feeling so tired all the time
19. Buying a whole new wardrobe of cute clothes
20. Being more of what God intended for me to be
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Inspiration
Sometimes I need to know that other people have gone through this battle and have come out successful on the other side. I need to know that losing a significant amount of weight really can be done.
So I go searching on the internet for inspiration, and the internet does not fail.
Here's an article about a woman who went from 350 pounds to become a personal trainer.
Here's 40-something stories! I haven't read through all of them, but the one's I've seen are true inspiration.
And something from Ladies Home Journal.
And something from Weight Watchers. Here's a story about a woman who lost more than 100 pounds!
So I go searching on the internet for inspiration, and the internet does not fail.
Here's an article about a woman who went from 350 pounds to become a personal trainer.
Here's 40-something stories! I haven't read through all of them, but the one's I've seen are true inspiration.
And something from Ladies Home Journal.
And something from Weight Watchers. Here's a story about a woman who lost more than 100 pounds!
Confession Time
Forgive me, Weight Watchers, for I have cheated...
Last night all was going well and good until the before-dinner munchies hit.
Dinner wasn't ready yet, and I forgot about my snacking plan to have some celery and laughing cow cheese. I like the celery and laughing cow, but unfortunately, I like Povotica bread even better and there was some leftover slices sitting on the counter calling to me last night. If you've never had Povotica bread, then I feel a little sad for you. It's crushed nuts, brown sugar, butter, and yummy ooey gooeyness all rolled up and baked as a bread. Mmmmm..... I had bought some for Christmas, and the leftovers have been sitting there for 2 weeks just happy to be ignored, until last night when they would no longer accept my disdainful shunning.
So I ate them. About 2 1/2 slices of Eastern European deliciousness. Thankfully, that's where I stopped...pretty much. Normally I would say 'screw it' and continue eating my way through the house. But I actually got full (that doesn't happen often) and didn't eat again until supper. Even supper wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. One big bowl of chili and crackers. I can usually eat 2-3 bowls, so this was quite a feat for me. Before bed I had a bowl of Velvet Creme popcorn that I shared with Lily, which also could have been way worse. Just a couple of weeks ago I was going back for 3rds and 4ths of the popcorn.
So I may not have made the best choices last night, but at least I am being accountable for them, and really, they weren't as bad as they have been in the past. So kudos to me.
And the best part is that the scale went down a pound since yesterday. Woo hoo! I know most people weight in only once a week, and that's fine, but I like to weigh myself every morning. It doesn't affect how I eat in a negative way, in fact, if I see a gain I either think "Well, I deserved that," or "Gotta make sure to watch what I eat more carefully today." And I'm only a once-a-day weigher. I don't go nuts and weigh myself more than that. It's not for everyone, but it works for me.
Last night all was going well and good until the before-dinner munchies hit.
Dinner wasn't ready yet, and I forgot about my snacking plan to have some celery and laughing cow cheese. I like the celery and laughing cow, but unfortunately, I like Povotica bread even better and there was some leftover slices sitting on the counter calling to me last night. If you've never had Povotica bread, then I feel a little sad for you. It's crushed nuts, brown sugar, butter, and yummy ooey gooeyness all rolled up and baked as a bread. Mmmmm..... I had bought some for Christmas, and the leftovers have been sitting there for 2 weeks just happy to be ignored, until last night when they would no longer accept my disdainful shunning.
So I ate them. About 2 1/2 slices of Eastern European deliciousness. Thankfully, that's where I stopped...pretty much. Normally I would say 'screw it' and continue eating my way through the house. But I actually got full (that doesn't happen often) and didn't eat again until supper. Even supper wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. One big bowl of chili and crackers. I can usually eat 2-3 bowls, so this was quite a feat for me. Before bed I had a bowl of Velvet Creme popcorn that I shared with Lily, which also could have been way worse. Just a couple of weeks ago I was going back for 3rds and 4ths of the popcorn.
So I may not have made the best choices last night, but at least I am being accountable for them, and really, they weren't as bad as they have been in the past. So kudos to me.
And the best part is that the scale went down a pound since yesterday. Woo hoo! I know most people weight in only once a week, and that's fine, but I like to weigh myself every morning. It doesn't affect how I eat in a negative way, in fact, if I see a gain I either think "Well, I deserved that," or "Gotta make sure to watch what I eat more carefully today." And I'm only a once-a-day weigher. I don't go nuts and weigh myself more than that. It's not for everyone, but it works for me.
Oh the pain! The pain!
So, my shoulder acheyness has gotten a little better. But last night I thought I should use the heating pad again, so I turned it on low and slept with that shoulder resting on the pad all night. This morning I wake up and there is this HUGE quarter-sized blister on my arm where it got burned by the heating pad! Youch!! And gross!
I thought for a moment that I wouldn't be able to work out with this newest injury, but then, I realized I was just being a major wuss and needed to suck it up and get going. So, I'm going. I promise.
Yesterday at the gym I was in the middle of my workout and I started to feel really light-headed and weak. I think I didn't eat enough for breakfast, though I did have 3 packets of oatmeal. I think I need to make sure to eat some protein before working out so that doesn't happen again.
This post is turning out to be really random....
And to continue the randomness....
Two snow days in a row!! Woo hoo! We may not have school at all this week if it snows like they've been predicting. This is all fun and happy now, but I know when May goes by and we're still having school in June, I'll be feeling pretty miffed at the audacity of the snow to come mess up my summer vacation.
I thought for a moment that I wouldn't be able to work out with this newest injury, but then, I realized I was just being a major wuss and needed to suck it up and get going. So, I'm going. I promise.
Yesterday at the gym I was in the middle of my workout and I started to feel really light-headed and weak. I think I didn't eat enough for breakfast, though I did have 3 packets of oatmeal. I think I need to make sure to eat some protein before working out so that doesn't happen again.
This post is turning out to be really random....
And to continue the randomness....
Two snow days in a row!! Woo hoo! We may not have school at all this week if it snows like they've been predicting. This is all fun and happy now, but I know when May goes by and we're still having school in June, I'll be feeling pretty miffed at the audacity of the snow to come mess up my summer vacation.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
My Last Nerve
Ow! OW! OWWWW!
That's how I feel right now.
I think I may have a pinched nerve in my back. Sunday afternoon my back started hurting around my left shoulder blade, all the way up to my neck. It would hurt even worse when I took deep breaths, and when I bent over. I nearly passed out yesterday when I tried to tie my shoes.
I'm not sure if it's from using the weight machines at the gym, or just bad luck. All I know is, it hurts. A lot.
I tried listening to my body to see what it said might help alleviate this pain. My head told me to take some ibuprofen, which I did, and that helped the pain somewhat. My shoulder said it thought I should 'work it out' at the gym, so I went back and did that too. I have come to a conclusion: My body is *d* liar. It still hurts. It really *$%#@! hurts. So I think I'm going to make a trip to my doctor's office today and see if they can tell me more.
But other than feeling like someone is shoving a screwdriver into my shoulder blade, I did pretty well yesterday. I followed my eating plan to the T (What does that even mean, to the T? Why not to the Q? Weird.) and still worked out before the movie (Which was way cool by the way. Go James Cameron!). I got popcorn at the movie, and put a little butter-flavored-oil-substitute, but I didn't go overboard. And I shared it with my husband, even. Aren't I generous?
Now I'm getting ready to head out the door to get to the gym again. I need to plan what I'm going to eat today, so I don't get caught off guard and hungry.
Breakfast: Oatmeal (6pts) [26 points left]
Post-Workout Snack: Weight Watchers Blueberry Muffin (3 points) [23 points remaining]
Lunch: Last of my crockpot lasagna and salad (10 points) [13 points left]
Snack: Celery and Laughing Cow cheese (2 points) [11 points for dinner]
Dinner: Here's where I always get stuck....I think I'll make some chili for dinner tonight, but I'll have to get on the Weight Watchers website and calculate the points for it. Shouldn't be too much, though. And I'll want to make sure to save room for ice cream, too! Mmm....ice cream....
That's how I feel right now.
I think I may have a pinched nerve in my back. Sunday afternoon my back started hurting around my left shoulder blade, all the way up to my neck. It would hurt even worse when I took deep breaths, and when I bent over. I nearly passed out yesterday when I tried to tie my shoes.
I'm not sure if it's from using the weight machines at the gym, or just bad luck. All I know is, it hurts. A lot.
I tried listening to my body to see what it said might help alleviate this pain. My head told me to take some ibuprofen, which I did, and that helped the pain somewhat. My shoulder said it thought I should 'work it out' at the gym, so I went back and did that too. I have come to a conclusion: My body is *d* liar. It still hurts. It really *$%#@! hurts. So I think I'm going to make a trip to my doctor's office today and see if they can tell me more.
But other than feeling like someone is shoving a screwdriver into my shoulder blade, I did pretty well yesterday. I followed my eating plan to the T (What does that even mean, to the T? Why not to the Q? Weird.) and still worked out before the movie (Which was way cool by the way. Go James Cameron!). I got popcorn at the movie, and put a little butter-flavored-oil-substitute, but I didn't go overboard. And I shared it with my husband, even. Aren't I generous?
Now I'm getting ready to head out the door to get to the gym again. I need to plan what I'm going to eat today, so I don't get caught off guard and hungry.
Breakfast: Oatmeal (6pts) [26 points left]
Post-Workout Snack: Weight Watchers Blueberry Muffin (3 points) [23 points remaining]
Lunch: Last of my crockpot lasagna and salad (10 points) [13 points left]
Snack: Celery and Laughing Cow cheese (2 points) [11 points for dinner]
Dinner: Here's where I always get stuck....I think I'll make some chili for dinner tonight, but I'll have to get on the Weight Watchers website and calculate the points for it. Shouldn't be too much, though. And I'll want to make sure to save room for ice cream, too! Mmm....ice cream....
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Sunday is by far and away the most difficult day of the week for me to make good food choices.
I blame my family.
And my church.
I am cursed, cursed I tell you, with family members who are phenomenal cooks. Really, there should be laws against having so many talented chefs in one family. I am lucky though, that my family is actually made up of really nice, likable people. There are no food pushers here. No one ever has said, "Oh, I made this just for you, won't you at least try a bite." No guilt. No bossiness. Just durned good food that calls to me like sirens singing for Odysseus to come join them for some BBQ ribs.
And then there's the Greek and Russian ladies at my church. I'm Eastern Orthodox, which is way cool, but besides that includes a lot of ethnic families. We have the aforementioned Greeks and Russians, in addition to Ethiopians and Polish families. And then we all eat lunch together after church every Sunday and they bring some of THE BEST food. Today I chowed down on 2 slices of yummy ooey gooey baklava. (And the BBQ brisket that I supplied...got keep it real in the good ol' US of A.)
So what usually happens is that I eat lunch at church, with most of the dishes being things I can't pronounce, much less count points for because I have no idea what they are. And then later I go over to my sister-in-law's house where my family likes to congregate, and they all bring their yummy food and I sometimes have a 2nd lunch.
I blame everyone else besides me.
I mean, this willpower thing is just a myth, isn't it?
Right?
Well, a little bit of a myth?
It's harder than it looks, or something like that, though?
Right?
OKAY! Stop brow-beating me! I know it's my fault! I just can not say no tocertain foods, most foods, all foods. I don't know what it is about me that craves food on a continual basis. I do know that I love the way food tastes. I love how it feels in my mouth. I love how it makes me feel full when I eat a lot of it. I don't know why I love those things, I just know that I do.
So here's today's damage :
Breakfast - None, because we don't eat breakfast before church. It's a spiritual thing, not a running-late-getting-out-of-the-door-at-the-last-minute thing. It has to do with having the communion being the first thing you consume on Sunday, actually.
Lunch - 1 BBQ brisket sandwich with Kaiser bun, some summer sausage, cheese cubes, crackers, cheese ball, 2 slices of Baklava (mmmm.....honey nutty goodness!), and a rasberry/cherry bar cookie thing. This is actually about half of what I would normally eat. I was really trying to moderate myself today.
Dinner - Slice of Minsky's pizza, 4 choco-chip cookies, bag of popcorn.
Snacks - Osembei (Japanese crackers that my hubby bought me today) and a Route 44 Diet Vanilla Coke with Easy Ice from SONIC (America's favorite drive-in, by the way), and about 15 M&M's.
Actually, now that I write it all down, it isn't quite as bad as I thought. I did try to at least watch myself and not go too overboard. But not a green-leafed vegetable to be seen, or even a piece of fruit, as far as the eye can see.
So let's make BABY STEPS plans for tomorrow, so I stay within my points and don't go all crazy....
1. Breakfast - WW English muffin (4 pts.), WW Blueberry muffin (3 pts.) = 7 points
2. Lunch - Leftover lasagna (8 pts.) and salad (2 pts) = 10 points
[17 points in, 15 left to go!]
3. Snack - Pudding (2 pts.) and almonds (2 pts.) = 4 points
[11 points left]
4. Exercise = 30 minutes cardio, 20 minutes weights, 10 minutes stretching = 6 activity points, yea me!
[17 points left now, baby!]
5. Dinner & Movie - Planning on seeing Avatar with hubby tomorrow. Hmmm....if we eat before we go, I'll be less likely to want popcorn. And I could even bring in my own popcorn. Must make plans for this!!
Okay, that's the plan then for tomorrow. And tomorrow is quickly approaching, so I should get gone and get to bed.
362 days left. 100 pounds yet to go.
I blame my family.
And my church.
I am cursed, cursed I tell you, with family members who are phenomenal cooks. Really, there should be laws against having so many talented chefs in one family. I am lucky though, that my family is actually made up of really nice, likable people. There are no food pushers here. No one ever has said, "Oh, I made this just for you, won't you at least try a bite." No guilt. No bossiness. Just durned good food that calls to me like sirens singing for Odysseus to come join them for some BBQ ribs.
And then there's the Greek and Russian ladies at my church. I'm Eastern Orthodox, which is way cool, but besides that includes a lot of ethnic families. We have the aforementioned Greeks and Russians, in addition to Ethiopians and Polish families. And then we all eat lunch together after church every Sunday and they bring some of THE BEST food. Today I chowed down on 2 slices of yummy ooey gooey baklava. (And the BBQ brisket that I supplied...got keep it real in the good ol' US of A.)
So what usually happens is that I eat lunch at church, with most of the dishes being things I can't pronounce, much less count points for because I have no idea what they are. And then later I go over to my sister-in-law's house where my family likes to congregate, and they all bring their yummy food and I sometimes have a 2nd lunch.
I blame everyone else besides me.
I mean, this willpower thing is just a myth, isn't it?
Right?
Well, a little bit of a myth?
It's harder than it looks, or something like that, though?
Right?
OKAY! Stop brow-beating me! I know it's my fault! I just can not say no to
So here's today's damage :
Breakfast - None, because we don't eat breakfast before church. It's a spiritual thing, not a running-late-getting-out-of-the-door-at-the-last-minute thing. It has to do with having the communion being the first thing you consume on Sunday, actually.
Lunch - 1 BBQ brisket sandwich with Kaiser bun, some summer sausage, cheese cubes, crackers, cheese ball, 2 slices of Baklava (mmmm.....honey nutty goodness!), and a rasberry/cherry bar cookie thing. This is actually about half of what I would normally eat. I was really trying to moderate myself today.
Dinner - Slice of Minsky's pizza, 4 choco-chip cookies, bag of popcorn.
Snacks - Osembei (Japanese crackers that my hubby bought me today) and a Route 44 Diet Vanilla Coke with Easy Ice from SONIC (America's favorite drive-in, by the way), and about 15 M&M's.
Actually, now that I write it all down, it isn't quite as bad as I thought. I did try to at least watch myself and not go too overboard. But not a green-leafed vegetable to be seen, or even a piece of fruit, as far as the eye can see.
So let's make BABY STEPS plans for tomorrow, so I stay within my points and don't go all crazy....
1. Breakfast - WW English muffin (4 pts.), WW Blueberry muffin (3 pts.) = 7 points
2. Lunch - Leftover lasagna (8 pts.) and salad (2 pts) = 10 points
[17 points in, 15 left to go!]
3. Snack - Pudding (2 pts.) and almonds (2 pts.) = 4 points
[11 points left]
4. Exercise = 30 minutes cardio, 20 minutes weights, 10 minutes stretching = 6 activity points, yea me!
[17 points left now, baby!]
5. Dinner & Movie - Planning on seeing Avatar with hubby tomorrow. Hmmm....if we eat before we go, I'll be less likely to want popcorn. And I could even bring in my own popcorn. Must make plans for this!!
Okay, that's the plan then for tomorrow. And tomorrow is quickly approaching, so I should get gone and get to bed.
362 days left. 100 pounds yet to go.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
365 Days...almost
Since it's January 2, I don't have exactly 365 pounds, but we can work with what I've got.
Okay, so here's the what:
I'm 33 years old.
I have a 3 year old daughter and a 6 year old marriage.
I have been obese my entire adult life, and most of my childhood as well.
I want to lose 100 pounds in 2010.
That's not too much to ask, is it?
I would love to do the lapband or gastric bypass, but A)I'm terrified of either of those and B)I'm poor. Actually, the poor part vastly outweighs (heh, heh) the fear factor here, so surgical measures are not going to happen anytime soon. Unless you want to give me a large sum of money. That would certainly help.
My plan of action:
Weight Watchers - I've actually been a member of WW for the past 2 years. I have yet to fully commit myself to it and really "do" the program. I tend to follow the WW program for 3 days, and take a 4 day vacation on a weekly basis. Wonder of wonders, this has led to very minute weight loss over the past 2 years. So, I'm going to do it. For real. For one year. And then I'll see where that gets me. Hopefully it will get me in smaller pants.
Exercise - I actually consider exercise a dirty word. I hate, hate, HATE to exercise. It does not feel good. In fact, it feels bad. I feel sore during and after. I don't enjoy sweating, and I don't appreciate having to take another shower afterward. I do not get some euphoric rush of happy hormones spritzing their way through my body. Mostly I get winded and cranky.
All that said, I know exercise is key. So, I'm going to have to just suck it up and do it. My challenge is to work out 4 days a week with 30 minutes of cardio, 20 minutes of weight lifting, and 10 minutes of stretching. I think that's doable. I already work out nearly every Saturday, so that's just 3 other days during the work week.
Blog - If gaining weight were just about liking food, I think I would have beat this thing a long time ago. There's got to be more here than just an inability to say "No" to food and "Yes" to exercise. I must have....(ack!) issues to deal with. Food issues. So, here I am trying to work out my issues and get a hold on what they are and why I am still so fat after so many years of trying to take off the weight. This is my blogapy. Blog + Therapy= Blogapy.
The scary part:
Okay, here's where it gets really scary. Exercise I can deal with. Cutting out calories is doable. Actually getting honest with myself in the midst of cyberspace makes me want to wet my pants. But I'm going to do it. I think. Okay, take a deep breath.....
Weight: 271 pounds. Yikes! It's out there. Everyone knows now. I'm going to see that number plastered on The Inquirer and stare at it in shock and horror the next time I'm at the grocery store buying my weekly supply of highly-processed frozen food. Oh wait. Nobody cares about me enough to put that on the cover of a magazine. Whew! Disaster averted.
Size: I think I'm wearing size 24 pants right now. I'm not really sure. The fat girl store (AKA: Lane Bryant) has changed their sizes on their jeans. So instead of actually going in and knowing what size I am, I have to try on 4 different sizes to find the one that is the least uncomfortable. The sizes have changed to single digits now, which I think is an attempt to make fat chicks feel not quite so fat. If I go in and pick up a pair of 24 jeans, I know I'm fat. But, if I can go in and pick up a pair of size 6 jeans, even though I'm at the fat girl store, I can pretend that I'm not so chunkified. I think that's the whole sneaky Lane Bryant marketing ploy. They try to make us fat girls feel normal so we'll keep coming back.
So, 2 days down. 363 more to go.
Okay, so here's the what:
I'm 33 years old.
I have a 3 year old daughter and a 6 year old marriage.
I have been obese my entire adult life, and most of my childhood as well.
I want to lose 100 pounds in 2010.
That's not too much to ask, is it?
I would love to do the lapband or gastric bypass, but A)I'm terrified of either of those and B)I'm poor. Actually, the poor part vastly outweighs (heh, heh) the fear factor here, so surgical measures are not going to happen anytime soon. Unless you want to give me a large sum of money. That would certainly help.
My plan of action:
Weight Watchers - I've actually been a member of WW for the past 2 years. I have yet to fully commit myself to it and really "do" the program. I tend to follow the WW program for 3 days, and take a 4 day vacation on a weekly basis. Wonder of wonders, this has led to very minute weight loss over the past 2 years. So, I'm going to do it. For real. For one year. And then I'll see where that gets me. Hopefully it will get me in smaller pants.
Exercise - I actually consider exercise a dirty word. I hate, hate, HATE to exercise. It does not feel good. In fact, it feels bad. I feel sore during and after. I don't enjoy sweating, and I don't appreciate having to take another shower afterward. I do not get some euphoric rush of happy hormones spritzing their way through my body. Mostly I get winded and cranky.
All that said, I know exercise is key. So, I'm going to have to just suck it up and do it. My challenge is to work out 4 days a week with 30 minutes of cardio, 20 minutes of weight lifting, and 10 minutes of stretching. I think that's doable. I already work out nearly every Saturday, so that's just 3 other days during the work week.
Blog - If gaining weight were just about liking food, I think I would have beat this thing a long time ago. There's got to be more here than just an inability to say "No" to food and "Yes" to exercise. I must have....(ack!) issues to deal with. Food issues. So, here I am trying to work out my issues and get a hold on what they are and why I am still so fat after so many years of trying to take off the weight. This is my blogapy. Blog + Therapy= Blogapy.
The scary part:
Okay, here's where it gets really scary. Exercise I can deal with. Cutting out calories is doable. Actually getting honest with myself in the midst of cyberspace makes me want to wet my pants. But I'm going to do it. I think. Okay, take a deep breath.....
Weight: 271 pounds. Yikes! It's out there. Everyone knows now. I'm going to see that number plastered on The Inquirer and stare at it in shock and horror the next time I'm at the grocery store buying my weekly supply of highly-processed frozen food. Oh wait. Nobody cares about me enough to put that on the cover of a magazine. Whew! Disaster averted.
Size: I think I'm wearing size 24 pants right now. I'm not really sure. The fat girl store (AKA: Lane Bryant) has changed their sizes on their jeans. So instead of actually going in and knowing what size I am, I have to try on 4 different sizes to find the one that is the least uncomfortable. The sizes have changed to single digits now, which I think is an attempt to make fat chicks feel not quite so fat. If I go in and pick up a pair of 24 jeans, I know I'm fat. But, if I can go in and pick up a pair of size 6 jeans, even though I'm at the fat girl store, I can pretend that I'm not so chunkified. I think that's the whole sneaky Lane Bryant marketing ploy. They try to make us fat girls feel normal so we'll keep coming back.
So, 2 days down. 363 more to go.
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