Sunday, January 28, 2007

I'm a girl with a habit

No, not in the nunnish, convent joining sense of the word. Nor is it the “gotta go to rehab” sense either. As previously mentioned, it supposedly takes 21 days to create a habit. Well, habit I have then because this is day 21. I've been working out like a fiend. Sunday is my pre-planned day off. I figure if it was good enough for God, it aughta work for me. Ok, in all seriousness, I chose Sunday because on Mondays I work out with Dustina. I'm well aware of the fact that when I take a day off I have a tougher time getting back at it. I sit around thinking, "Oh, how nice it is to be lazy again." or "Oh look at how much I got done today because I didn't spend an hour and a half at the gym." So, I planned my day off accordingly so that I'm forced to get back at it by keeping my appointment with Dustina.

If you omit the sore muscles, my new grocery bill, and exhaustion from detoxing (no really, I was comin’ off caffeine, sugar, and junk food all at one whack…that's harsh), it's been pretty easy. Well, at least in the willpower department. Nobody has had to bind and gag me to keep me from binging. I've even tried eating things I don't like just because I know they're healthy. You'd be surprised what you can get down once you muscle through that gag reflex. Before you know it, I'll be ready for Fear Factor or Survivor and downing a grub worm, bull testicle, and rotten fish milkshake in 5 seconds flat. I've been subjected to two Girl Scout cookie ordering opportunities and managed to get away without a cookie OR a scratch.

There are plenty of other aspects that are hard though. The time I'm devoting to it is definitely going to take some getting used to. I get home from the gym, cook, eat, clean up and voila…it's already 8:00. Grabbing something on the way home from work had me done by 5:30 or 6:00. Tack on all the entries to the website I'm doing, all the grocery shopping, and the fact that I'm trying to actually sit and enjoy a meal instead of eating on the run and it's completely sent my schedule into a tailspin.

Then there is the fact that I am just prone to injury. I still have the same foot issue I started complaining about a good 2 years ago. My knee will just suddenly go out of whack and then after a day or two it's fine. My neck has been jacked up. It's like my body is trying to force me into submitting to my old ways. What's the deal? You'd think it would be all about me finally taking better care of it, but no, it's doing everything it can to have me plant my big butt back on the couch eating ice cream. I guess you just can't get 350ish pounds movin’ all at once and not damage a thing or two. It's alright. We'll press on, injury or no injury, and prove that big girls can get down with the best of em.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

One for the record books...or at least this journal

You'll have to excuse my french, but holy shit! This here newfound mindset is actually working. On Saturday I was moving clothes from my broken dresser drawer to a shelf in my closet. At the bottom of a stack of jeans were a pair I've never actually worn because they were always a bit snug and uncomfortable. I typically wear a not so loose 26/28 and these are a 26. I bravely unfolded them, stepped into them and pulled them up. They weren't so bad. I zipped, buttoned and assessed. Nah. I'm in them, but it was nothing I could sit in all day.

(enter Tuesday stage left) I was getting dressed this morning and was about to put on the same old jeans I always wear. As I went to grab a pair, I glanced at the aforementioned skinny jeans I had tried. I put my old jeans down and grabbed the newer, sassier, more expensive pair. I don't know why I thought I should attempt it again, but I stepped into them. I pulled them up, zipped, buttoned and reassessed. This is where "holy shit" comes in. They fit. No, they didn't just fit, they were actually comfortable. They are slightly stretchy so I'm sure that helped, but THEY FIT! I really need to toss them into the dryer to shrink the length, but I'm no fool. I'm not gonna ruin a good thing just yet. Maybe in a couple more weeks when I've lost even more, but not yet. Let me just bask in the glory of my jeans.

While at work and fully basking in said glory, the same coworker that told me about a diet book not so long ago (see entry "Pity? Party of One?") asked me how all my working out was going. Last week he had some how found out about my recommitment to the Kel and gave me a bit of kudos for it. So, when he inquired I simply said, "Well, I'm wearing jeans that didn't fit me a few weeks ago." He shook my hand. He asked how much I'd lost and I told him I had no idea because my trainer has my scale. He said he'd heard a lot of nutritionists talking about getting rid of your scale. I explained my scale obsession and how it causes me to quit all the time and he told me to keep it up. Well, now I have to if so many people are watching me.

Forcing myself to focus on other benefits of weight loss instead of trying to get a number to go down on a scale is by far the best thing I've ever done. In the past I've never been able to see a difference when I've looked in a mirror. It's always been an "Objects in mirror may be smaller than they appear" sort of thing because I still saw the fat girl no matter how much I'd lost. I've longed for the day when I could look in a mirror and say "Wow, sexy bitch, you kick ass." Well, I guess I could anyway, but it would be nice to say it to an obviously smaller me. I've lost up to 40 pounds before and other people could see it, but I couldn't. Yesterday I turned to walk away from the sink in the bathroom and had to do a double take as I saw myself in the mirror. I thought I noticed a very slight difference. I convinced myself that my sweater was just more stretched out than usual, but now that I've got these jeans on maybe there really is a difference. A difference in a matter of a couple weeks? Insane.

I'm finally feeling empowered again. I'm feeling like I did when I started this journal. I'm feeling like there is light at the end of a very long tunnel and instead of saying, "Eh, forget that, it's too far away." I'm saying, "Stand back. I got this." There will be days that I struggle and days that I fall off altogether, afterall, I will be fighting this battle for the rest of my life and no one is perfect. I have to be aware of everything I put in my mouth to succeed at this. I have to determine if it's a decision that will move me closer to my goal or further from it and even if I lose all the weight I will still have to think that way. Losing the weight is not my only obstacle. People lose weight all the time. Very few people keep it off. I don't want to go through this only to gain it back AGAIN. I can do this.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Great googly moogly

Something has clearly come over me. I’m still blazing right along. Yeah, that’s right. I have been on track for (counting the days) TWELVE DAYS. That’s not to say I haven’t treated myself here and there, but I did it sensibly (i.e., not buying a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, but getting a small, uh huh I said small, ice cream cone). I worked out 6 days last week and though I started off with the best of intentions, I missed a few days this week. I had a raging stomach quandary and Portland actually got some snow so I was locked up for a couple days. Yes, I know I could have used my treadmill, but did you catch the sick part? Besides, I’m still worried I’m gonna break the thing.

I got back on track yesterday though when Dustina came over for another training session and I went to the gym after work today. It was after the gym that I really impressed myself. Before I went home I pulled into Taco Bell. Anyone reading this knows Taco Bell is my arch nemesis. My goal was to just get a drink because I had other plans for a dinner treat. I pulled up to order and that dang Mt. Dew called to me like a mythical siren. I held my ground and with my newfound sense of fabulosity…ordered a Diet Pepsi.

Right next-door was dinner. I had called ahead and ordered a pizza from Papa Murphy’s. What? A pizza? Fret not my little bootie shrinking supporters. I got their veggie delite thin crust pizza. But wait, there’s more. On the way home I was trying to figure out how to justify eating it two days in a row (provided I didn’t eat it all in one sitting as was custom) and it hit me…mayhaps I won’t have to.

I knocked on my neighbor’s door. A neighbor, I might add, whose name I only know because she had left me a note to warn me that on Christmas Eve our ever-generous upstairs neighbor had puked over their balcony and onto our lawn and to be careful should Lola feel the need to investigate (gross? Yes. Relevant? No…but still a nice little addition to give you a glimpse into the rapport I have with my neighbor) There was no answer. “Foiled again!” I thought. I came back in and, remembering the aforementioned note, wrote one of my own. It went something like this, “I got a Papa Murphy’s Veggie Delite Thin Crust Pizza. I can’t justify eating it two days in a row (to myself or my trainer), so if you want half, it’s yours. Just gimme a knock.”

After I had baked it, ate mine, and cleaned up she knocked on the door. I thought she was my savior, but alas, she was there to inform me that she had just stopped and picked herself up some Taco Bell. After my split second of envy, I asked her if she wanted it for tomorrow. She said she would check in with me tomorrow, that she was trying to be good too. I thought, “You’re trying to be good, but you just went to Taco Bell?” Anyway, I assured her that it was good and veggie and had an ever so thin, barely there crust and to please come get it tomorrow or I would be forced to finish it. I’m not so sure it worked, but at least I tried.

Now you know dang well that’s a vast improvement of willpower and determination. The last time I got a thin crust pizza I ate that whole thing for dinner. Granted, I should have had a salad or something too, but I’m still gonna chalk this one up as a victory. Where I did fail in the willpower department was at the gym. I went into the ladies locker room with the sole intention of weighing myself. I got in there, hopped on the scale, and realized it only goes to 350. I was fully clothed with shoes and all, there was no way in my 12 days of near perfection that I was going to qualify for scale usage with all those clothes on and this addiction sure as hell ain’t worth strippin’ for like I do at home.

So, I still have no idea how I’m doing. I’d love to give you a number, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I really only wanted to weigh myself there so I had a starting point and could check down the road. Guess that’ll have to wait for another month or so. I’m surprised it took me that long to cave. I’ve been to my sister’s and didn’t get on hers (though I know hers wouldn’t have worked for someone as heavy as me). I’ve been to Mom and Dad’s and they have the same scale as I do, but I didn’t get on it. I am most definitely a work in progress, but progress I’ve made and progress I will continue to make. Ferreals.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

To do list :: Item no. 1

I've rearranged my life's to do list and moving up the list from last priority to first is--check it--ME! Not my home business, my family, my friends, my love life, but quite simply put…it’s all about me. I'm pretty much giving up a couple hours a day in an already busy schedule just to take care of me. What do I mean by taking care of me? Working out both with my trainer and on my own, actually taking the time to prepare meals instead of stopping off somewhere and grabbing something quick, and paying more attention to this website because this is where I collect my thoughts and gain perspective. This, for all intents and purposes, is where I give myself my own little pep talk.

I’m also talking nicer to myself. That doesn’t just mean I’ve stopped looking in the mirror and calling myself a cow, but I’m doing the daily affirmations that Dustina requested I do over breakfast. I sort of decided I needed more than that though. After 30 years of convincing myself that I was disgusting, 10 minutes over breakfast isn’t going to change a mindset. I do it, well, all the time. Even if it’s only reminding myself (or trying to convince myself) that I can do this.

I rejoined the gym Tuesday night and I’ve been Wednesday, Friday, and today. I may not have been breaking any records, but I was there dang it. I know that if I keep it up I will be feeling better and gradually be able to do more and more. Even today’s workout was far better than Wednesdays. Gotta crawl before you can walk. And I must say, the eye candy that has sprouted up since I was last there is mighty impressive. That right there is enough to motivate a girl to keep coming in if not get her heart rate up all together.

Dustina came over Thursday night for another workout. First she checked my body fat. Ouch! 49.6%. I'm half fat, people. Then I briefly mentioned that I had done arms at the gym the night before, but that did not matter like I thought it would. We did a lot of arms. And we not only did planks again, but we tossed in, ahem, BEAR CRAWLS! My hate for planks and bear crawls is really only paralleled (thus far) by squats and lunges. I have doc's permission to omit squats and lunges right now because of my knees, but alas, no mention of planks and bear crawls. You'da thought there was a Big Bad Wolf convention for all the huffin’ and puffin’ that was goin on. I told her that this is the most she’s kicked my ass and she told me she wanted me to remember her over the weekend. Clearly a fond remembrance wasn’t her priority.

Before she left, as promised, I gave her my scale (hereforeto known as "The Mechanical Demon") and I'm not going to lie to you, parting was such sweet sorrow. As I stood in my room getting ready for bed I peered into the bathroom at the empty space that used to be home to The Mechanical Demon and I longed for the days when I could weigh myself before bed. Then this morning I really wanted on that thing because I'd been doing so well the last few days and needed to see more payoff. Come on. I'm an instant gratification kind of girl and now I have to WAIT for my payoff. All of my victories will have to come from other places. It's good though, it's good. I will no longer be obsessing over a number. How I do on my diet will no longer be determined by whether or not The Mechanical Demon is cooperating. It will be based solely on how I feel, how I look, and how my clothes fit…it will just take a while.

So I’ve learned that putting myself on the list isn’t enough. I have to put myself at the top of the list. I have to stop making everything BUT me a priority. They say it takes 21 days to create a habit. Count this as day six of my 21, day six of taking care of me, day six of putting myself at the top of my to do list, and day six of finding my way back to something I lost quite a while ago…being fierce.

Tuesday, January 9, 2007

And so I bid farewell

The holidays are over (thank the Lord above) and Dustina and I started working out again yesterday. It was a really tough workout. She tried to work on the mental part of Kelly just as much as the physical and it took its toll. I love Dustina. She's a great person and will probably end up saving my life, but last night she really (whether intended or not) made me come to terms with some things. I actually had a hard time keeping it together during the workout. I ended up starting to cry shortly after she left so I took Lola for a walk so that I was forced to keep it together.

She asked me what our plan was; I thought "I really have no plan anymore." She asked me what she could do to help me; I thought "I really don't know how anyone can help me anymore." She asked if I ever say anything nice about myself, any positive affirmations; No, of course not. When would I fit that in with all the negativity I'm spewing? She asked me if I truly believe I can lose the weight; In a nutshell? No, I don't. I mean, I do SOMETIMES. I have those moments of divine inspiration when I feel as though I could conquer the world, but for the most part, after how many times I've failed or lost it only to gain it back, no. She told me that I'm not going to be able to do it until I BELIEVE I can do it. I felt defeated. She seemed so completely and utterly genuine in her desire to help me succeed at this that I don’t just feel like I’ve been failing MYSELF, but now I feel like I’ve been failing HER too.

The real clencher came when she told me that she should take my scale. I had actually CONSIDERED having her take it not that long ago and now that she had actually offered...I freaked out. I was like "Nooooo! Thursday, I'll give it to you Thursday." I was already having separation anxiety. I felt like I had to get on it just one more time before I could give it up. How sick is that? I've often thought that I would do so much better if I just went about my day eating what I needed to eat and not worrying about the number. That I would know I lost a good amount when people started noticing or clothes started fitting better and that I should just gauge it by that (which is essentially what she's trying to have me do), but I just could never get rid of the scale. I am controlled by the number. I know I shouldn't be, but I am. I have a sickness.

So Thursday it is. Thursday I bid farewell to my scale. I'm giving it to Dustina for a while. I really, in all honesty, will have withdrawls. I know it's silly and no one can comprehend it, but I'll be sneaking onto scales far and wide every chance I get. Down to mom and dad's? Scale. Over to my sister's? Scale. If I rejoin the gym (I'll keep you posted)? Scale. I won't be able to walk by one and NOT get on (Are you kidding me? There is a REASON she's taking it away), but I will at least not be on there 3 times a day. Yeah, you read that right, three. Not every day, but at least once a day…sometimes more. I don't know why. Sometimes it's to make sure I'm simply keeping it in check and not gaining and gaining and gaining. Other times it's with the hope that the number has actually gone down. I teeter totter back and forth between the same few pounds so much right now that I feel like I need to know if my teeter is overtaking my totter. Starting Thursday I'll have to find my balance another way…at least for a while.