The Game

There's a game that I play every Friday night.
It's called:  How Little Can She Eat?

I hate being wrapped up in this game.  The game takes place because of my Saturday morning weigh in at Weight Watchers.  See, if I don't eat very much on Friday night, then I have a better chance of losing a couple pounds (more like ounces though) on Saturday morning.

I'm trying hard to get my mind out of this game though, because I know it is really a sign that I'm still treating this whole thing as a diet, and not a change towards a healthy lifestyle.

So, I tried harder today to not play the game so much.  I ate all of my points for the day, just most of them before dinner time, so I'd have to have a small dinner: popcorn and an apple with peanut butter.  There is no other day of the week where I would call that dinner.  So, okay, I'm not fixed yet.  I'm still broken.

I wonder how long it's going to take to get through my thick skull that I need to do more than the minimum, because the minimum is not working worth crap.  I've just been barely inching down the scale, only losing about 20 pounds in a year.  That's pretty pathetic.

So, I've got to get my head out of this game.  Because it's not a game, it's my health, and ultimately my life, and I only have one life, no Super Star Power, no Magic Mushrooms, and no way to earn Extra Lives.  I am not Princess Peach, and this is not Mario Brothers, so I need to stop living like it is.  Even if I am cute and blonde.

Money Maker

I'm just going to say it.

I like to boogie.

There.  It's out.  No more hiding this deep inside me like it's some kind of dirty secret.

Oh, I see your little smile.  You must not understand.
I don't like to just dance.  Not that dancing isn't fun.
I'm not talking tap, ballet, or interpretive dancing.

Oh no.
I'm talking boogie.

Butt shakin',
Hip thrustin',
Naughty grindin',
Pole dancin',
I'm-surprised-no-one's-trying-to-shove-money-down-my-pants-boogie-style-dancing.

I'd like to take this moment to say how thankful I am that I was raised in a Southern Baptist home where this kind of dancing was deemed as a one-way road to hell strongly frowned upon.  It helped keep me decent.  If I had been born into a non-Christian, non-religious family, I likely would have ended up as a go-go table dancer or a stripper.  The thought of that frightens me now.

Anyway, all this has recently come to mind because, after weeks and weeks of being away, I have finally returned to Zumba.  If you've never seen Zumba, it's a Latin-based, dance aerobic workout.  It's a lot of fun.  It's very sweat-inducing.  And when it's lead by a booty-shaking leader, who I think secretly wants to be a go-go dancer, it can get a little risque.  BUT IT'S SO MUCH FUN!!

I'd forgotten how much fun it is to shake my groove thang.
It was nice to be reminded that even though I'm sweating and exercising, I can still have fun.

I like to boogie.
I like the night life.

Crap on a stick.

That's how I feel.  Like crap on a stick.

I'm so disgusted with myself.  This is not where I wanted to see myself a quarter of the way through the year.  I have lost virtually no weight, and I can't seem to get my butt in gear for the long haul.  I'll be okay for a few days, and then something will happen, and my whole motivation will get derailed.

I know what I need to do.
It's not a matter of knowing better, because I do know better.
It's a matter of commitment.
It's a matter of wanting to be thin more than I want to stuff my face.

I think part of the problem is that I don't truly believe I can do it.  I've never done it in the past, so I must not be capable of losing a significant amount of weight. I know that's a crappy thing to say to myself, but it's kinda how I feel right now, and I'm just having a hard time believing in me.

So, what am I going to do with myself, hmmm?
Am I going to spend another day stuffing my face with whatever I feel like, or am I actually going to take control of my eating and my bad habits and do something healthy with my body?

I guess we'll see what tomorrow brings.
I hope it brings a better attitude than this though, because this is just shitty.

Oink! Oink!

Do you hear that sound?

Oink!  Oink!

No, it's not me.  Dork.
It's the sound of the all-too-ubiquitous gym hog.

Gym hogs are running rampant around 24 Hour Fitness.  No doubt other gyms are also infested with their presence.

Luckily, the gym hog seems to have a three day lifespan:  Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  By Thursday afternoons, very few gym hogs can be spotted hogging the treadmills, ellipticals, and weight machines.

However, taking three days a week out of my exercise routine because of gym hogs is getting a little annoying.  I try really hard to beat the stampede hog-pede that envelopes the gym by 4:30 in the afternoon, but they nearly always are already there, hogging around.

It's really frustrating.  I was all gung-ho to do this Couch to 5K thing, but I have to actually be able to run for it to work.  And these stupid gym hogs seem to always take over the treadmills first.  It's the gym hog hierarchy:  1) Overtake the treadmills.  2) Breach the ellipticals.  3) Stampede the stair-masters.  4) Mutilate the stretching mats.  5) And finish off by pillaging the weights.

Okay, yes, I realize now that the weather is improving I could go outside and run, but seriously, I'm paying $30 a month for the opportunity to use these facilities.  I'm a tight-wad!  I want to get my money's worth, people!!

So, why don't I qualify as a gym hog, you might ask.
Go ahead, ask it.  Really, I want to hear you call me a gym hog.  Do it.  Do it.

Yeah, I can be scary, I know.

But seriously, I can't be considered a gym hog.  Gym hogs have a very short, 3 day maximum weekly lifespan.  Anyone who goes to the gym on a Friday evening can not possibly be considered a gym hog.  We're more like gym....hamsters.  Cute, cuddly, and spinning in our wheels and trying to work out every day of the week.

One Small Step...HURTS!

Today was my 3rd day of running this week on Week 1 of my Couch to 5K journey.
And all I have to say about it is...
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUCH!

It was hard.  Really, really hard to make it all the way through the workout.
To start with, my iPod erased the podcast that I was using during the workout that gave me all the nice verbal cues to either start running or slow to a walk.  I'd gotten used to that guy whispering encouraging catch phrases in my ear, no matter how corny they were.  "You can do it!" was said at least 3 times over the 25 minute workout.

So, I had to use a different podcast that was not as good, but it did the job.  I'm starting to think about making my own weekly mix of music that I actually enjoy though, because some of the stuff they put in there is just crap.  But, the point is not the music (reminding myself here), it's to get up and running.

Okay, so the mix-up with the music was one problem.  But the bigger problem was HOW HARD IT WAS TO JUST DO IT today.

I'm going to use my best whiny voice here:
It was HAAAAARD.  My legs HURRRRRRRRT.  I didn't wanna do it anymore.

And that was only by the third 60 second running interval.  My legs were starting to cramp.  My breathing was really labored, and it felt like I hadn't even bothered to use my inhaler - which I totally had!  It was just really, really hard to get through it this morning.

By the fourth running interval, I was really ready to quit and just hop on the elliptical machine.
Oh sweet elliptical, how I miss you so.  You're really boring, but you never made me hurt so much.

It was really tempting.
BUT......  (yes, I've got a big but here.  Badda bing!)
I persevered.  I kept on keeping on, telling myself, "It's just 4 more runs.  Just three more.  Come on, you can do it, just 2 more and then you're done."
And thankfully, by the last 2 running intervals it was starting to get a little more manageable again, and I was out of danger of quitting the treadmill and heading for the calmer waters of the elliptical, which doesn't actually have anything to do with water...but you get my point.

So, I'm really proud of myself.  I stuck it out.  I endured.
And tomorrow at Weigh-in Saturday at Weight Watchers,
the scale had better show it!

On the Road Again

This weekend I bent the rules of reality.
I worked out on Saturday
AND
Sunday!!

Shocking, I know.

But it doesn't stop there.  Oh no, the amazement continues.
I RAN both days!!

Stop doubting!  I really did it!
I don't blame you for your utter disbelief.  I can hardly believe it myself.
But I did it.

The guy on the treadmill next to mine couldn't seem to believe it either.
I was starting out on my 5 minute warm-up, listening to a Couch to 5K podcast when he showed up on the treadmill next to me.  He gave me the look.  You know what I'm talking about...the I'm-going-to-work-out-next-to-this-fat-chick-so-I-can-look-awesome-and-fit look.

You should have seen his face when I started jogging along right next to him.
I could read his face.  It said, "Dang!  Fat Girl can run!!"

Oh yeah.
Boo-yah.
Look at that blubber fly!
So I can run, bub.  For all of 60 seconds before I needed a 90 second break to take a breather.

But I kept it up, and I ran for 60 seconds eight different times.
And each time I ran, I chanted in my head, "Go fat girl!  Go fat girl!  Go!"

In your face, treadmill boy!

Getting FIT instead of FAT

Do you the difference between FIT and FAT?

Just one little vowel, but a very important one.  The letter "I."
If I don't want to be FAT, then I have to get in the middle of things.
If I don't want to be FAT, then I have to make hard changes in my lifestyle and my mindset.
If I don't want to be FAT, then I have to be willing to do what it takes to be successful, even if it's hard and uncomfortable for a time.


"I"
I have to be in control.
I have to be willing to do what it takes.
I have to be mindful of what I'm doing.

Just one little letter that points to who is really to blame for where I am, or who is really going to get credit for where I end up.

So, little friends, how are your New Year's Resolutions going?  I know you made some.  You know you made some.  Maybe you didn't use the word "resolution" but surely you have some goals, some aspirations and ambitions you would like to accomplish before the end of 2011.  I know at least one of you said to yourself, "This year I'm gonna..."

How's that going for ya?

I hope it's going well.
We're more than 1/12th of the way through the year so far.  Are you 1/12th of the way to reaching your goal?

This year, my New Year's goals were a little less specific than last year's.  Last year I really wanted to lose 100 pounds in a year.  Well, at least until around March, I was wanting to lose 100 pounds.  After that, I seemed to just want to sit around on my butt and whine about why I wasn't losing weight.

This year, I decided to go a little more general, but at the same time, I think I am being a little more realistic, and allowing myself a little more grace to succeed at varying levels.

This year's goals are fourfold:
I want to take steps toward becoming
SPIRITUALLY fit,
PHYSICALLY fit,
EMOTIONALLY fit,
and FINANCIALLY fit.

I'm calling it my SPEFfy fitness goal.  I can be SPEFfy.

To reach these goals, I have laid out some steps.
To become physically fit, I'm continuing with Weight Watchers and exercise.  As long as I actually DO them, I know that I can become physically fit.

To become financially fit, I am currently following the advice of Dave Ramsey, and am enrolled in his course, Financial Peace University.  I didn't really know much about Dave Ramsey and his baby steps for getting out of debt and building wealth until a friend recommended him (Kudos to you, Sonya!).  So far, we're working on baby step #2, the debt snowball, and will hopefully be completely debt free by the end of April, or maybe even March if things go well with our tax refund.

To become more spiritually and emotionally fit, I'm working on my honesty with myself and others, trying to be more of who I really am instead of who I think people want me to be.  I'm also getting back into church.  It's been awhile since I've been going regularly, and I know that's been a large part of why I've been feeling so down for awhile now.

So, I'm getting all SPEFfy.  I'm striving to reach some goals.
I know that "I" can make it happen, and can change my FAT life to a FIT one.