Scale haters UNITE!!

For those keeping track, yes I know this is the second entry of the day but it can't be avoided. I've either witnessed a miracle or I'm in the process of uncovering a sinister plot to get people to keep buying training sessions. As you know from the last entry the results have been less than impressive. It would cause one to reconsider the mass amounts of money being thrown to and fro (I don't know which way fro is exactly but work with me here). It took all the energy I could muster to get my butt to the gym tonight knowing I would have to ride the bike the whole time because of the foot issue (not a big fan of the bike and don't last as long). As I was pedaling away Trainer Guy Todd (miracle worker or evil doer? Hmmmm, I wonder.) came over and at some point I told him we needed to break out the fat % machine and check on the status. He told me that would involve checking my weight and after much cringing I got off the bike and headed in to face my demons. I got on that scale (like the one at the doctor's office) and slid the black doohickey allllll the way over to what I knew it should be. Dropped like a rock when I got on there. I nudged the weight higher figuring I'd forgotten how these scales worked and that dropping down meant I must have gained. As fellow scale fanatics know, dropping down means you need to LOWER the weight. I kept nudging and it stayed put. OOoook, let's try the other way but it'll only be a pound or two. Insert miracle here because it said I'd lost 13ish pounds in the last month whereas my scale at home, well, about a gain of a pound or two in the last month.

Now, my good senses tell me that it is bloody WRONG but the inner diva wants it to be so very right. It would mean that my scale at home is wrong (which at this point I'm willing to live with all things considered). It would mean that all the failures I've convinced myself of over the last month haven't happened. It would mean that I AM a rockstar. Ugh, I HATE scale inaccuracies. When was the last time someone calibrated that bad boy for cryin out loud? All in all I KNOW I shouldn't even go by the scale and I should go by how I feel and how my clothes fit and how the measuring tape says I've done but come on, I'm a woman and like all women (minus I think 3 of them) I judge myself by the number on that scale. GRRRR dagblasted scale. Can you even imagine how many confident women we'd have out there and the lack of eating disorders if scales were, well, abolished? I mean, when you're obese you're obese...you don't need a number to tell you just how big of a failure you are. Why can't we just lose enough weight to feel good...to be healthy. Why's it have to be a specific number we try to force ourselves down to. So I'm "supposed" to weigh 155. Well damn it, maybe I'll be perfectly content at 175. Maybe I'll like my ass at 170 and find no desire to annorexia myself down to what I'm told I should weigh. Maybe, just maybe, the world is already too full of skinny frickin women and I don't want to be another one. Ok, that's going overboard. I've clearly worked out too hard. I still think scales suck though!

(Update: Friday the gym scale was back to normal and I've lost NOTHING!!!)

In memoriam

Oh how I do miss my pastas, my sugar, my red meat. We've been so close for so many years and now I turn my back on them as though they've done something unforgivable. A few months ago I could have fed most of Somalia with the amount of bad carbs I ate in a month and now my container of uneaten jasmine rice sits on top of my fridge as if dead to me. My cupboards full of Pasta in a box and Hamburger Helper and soups with potatoes in them are rarely opened and as the cobwebs begin to spin I think "WHYYYYYYYYY????" Why must you raise my blood glucose to ridiculous levels and find comfort in the recesses of my butt, thighs & stomach? We could have been great. We could have gone the distance.

My hamburger has been replaced with ground turkey and my pepper steaks are a thing of the past. Why? Trainer Guy Todd. He's anti-red meat along with pretty much everything else I eat. Every session I bring him my food journal and it ends up riddled with bright orange highlights over what I SHOULDN'T have eaten. I mean, yes, the trip to Olive Garden deserved a highlight or two and the margaritas after the baseball game, perhaps, but the Fat Free Cottage Cheese? The Subway sandwich that didn't even have cheese or mayo? Apparently the more cottage cheese you put in your mouth the more cottage cheese you put on your thighs.

I have, I'll admit, found religion at the gym. Not only is Todd the devil but I'm quite often found uttering, "Oh my Godddddd!" when trying to lift more than I can handle and "Christ!" when he tells me 25 reps at the aforementioned weight I can't handle. Here is where you're probably wondering how all this sadomasochistic behavior is paying off. Well, I'm one for being honest so let me just say...IT'S NOT. I mean, it might be. I mean, not well enough. I mean (insert big sigh here), it's all my fault. I have not been eating in a fashion that is conducive to excellent results so all the working out I've been doing is probably only preventing me from ballooning even more. I've been holding water like the Titanic because I haven't been drinking what I should with all the working out I'm doing (though I remedied that Tuesday when I drank 96 ounces of water...I've been in the bathroom ever since and over night I was 6 pounds lighter). I have a foot injury that I haven't been taking care of and I've been in pain for pretty much 2 months now.

Now, I say it isn't working because the number on the scale isn't going down; however, my logical self says "Yes, silly girl, it is working...you're just looking at the wrong numbers." I know it is working because I can feel and see muscles that weren't there 2 months ago and I'm sure that if I tested my body fat again or maybe even broke out the measuring tape I would be impressed. I know it is working because I can climb a flight of stairs without passing out. I know it is working because people have told me that they can see it. I know it is working because when I go to that gym I feel more like I belong there because I fit in than I belong there because I don't fit into anything.

There is nothing like going from a place where you think everyone is watching you and judging you and taking bets on how long you'll last this time to a place where someone is actually routing for you. A few weeks ago I was lifting weights with Todd and he had the weight at some crazy level and I could barely do half my set let alone finish it. I looked around and there were a good 10 guys on the machines around me and half of them were staring at me as I kept trying and telling Todd I couldn't do it (one should also note that while most men grunt and groan and make hideous faces when the weight they are lifting becomes too much to bare, I laugh hysterically so that's a sure fire way to draw attention). Todd started helping me a little and making me finish them. Laughing through it all, him too at this point, I got it done. I looked up and one of the guys gave me a wink and a thumbs up. A "You go girl!" if you will.

The last few days I've been doing really well in the eating arena as well as the water so hopefully it's all falling into place now. So, goodbye bad carbs and sugar and red meat. You will be missed and I will never forget the good times we've had but our times together will be few and far between now. You'll have to find another ass to enlarge because THIS ass is shrinking on the daily.

If thou seekest the Devil...

he works at Bally's. And I would have told you sooner but as I headed into my office to write this entry I realized I had a couple things I had to get done first. One being putting my garbage out on the curb. I took the first step down my porch and had to stop and ponder just how important garbage pickup was this week because my legs actually did NOT work. Twenty minutes later the 5 minute job was done.

Then I packed up the stuff I needed to wash for my spa party tomorrow night and headed to the washing machine. This is when I realized my washing machine is in the basement. I considered moving out but determined that was not an immediate solution (though I'm still considering it to avoid any future incidences). Let me see if I can put it into perspective for you. Imagine, if you will, that someone has physically removed your thigh muscles. Thigh muscles, I might add, that control the momentum at which you descend a flight of stairs. I ask this because as of right now I have no control over my thigh muscles and they might as well have gone temporarily AWOL. Now, in an attempt to not just plummet head first down said stairs you put most of your weight on the railing of the stairs (thank God for railing). You call into action the rest of your leg muscles to somehow coerce your foot onto the next step. All of this taking quite a bit of time.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs and put my clothes in the washer I headed back up. As I climbed back up I noticed a definite quiver in my thighs but it was easier than going down. I got up those stairs with a sigh of relief and then almost cried when it dawned on me that in a half hour or so I would have to do it all again to get my clothes and bring them up to the dryer.

So, this is probably where you're wondering what ritualistic acts were performed at my first work out with Trainer Guy Todd. We did upper and lower body but there are two things responsible for the pain I will be in for my birthday tomorrow. Squats and lunges. Hmmm, squats & lunges. Just doesn't have the nice ring to it that Ben & Jerry does. Anyway, I thought I would die and the only comfort I could find through the whole ordeal was that we were in the gym where they do the aerobics classes and the lights went out and no one could really see me hyperventilate. And he told me I wouldn't be doing squats and lunges yet because of my knees...lying bastard.

I did tell him that he has one year to whip my butt into shape though. One year because I refuse to hit 30 in this condition. One year because I'll be getting ready to go to Italy. One year because it's time I start living my life instead of simply observing it. So, ya'll better step aside because if I survive whatever Trainer Guy Todd puts me through next...there will be no stopping me.