Tag Archives: eating

A New Year, kinda

Here we are *toots a horn* five days into a brand spanking new year; aren’t you excited? I mean, with me at least, every “new year” is the same thing over and over: I resolve to be more active, have more fun, push out the walls of comfort and live a little, find my inner happiness, write, exercise, lose weight, etcetera. A few years ago, when I started blogging (before I quit for a year), I had reached a low point in my life. I was so disgusted with myself and the way my life was turning out, and how I was shaping up. I made a commitment to myself, and those who read my blog, to share my journey through diet and exercise hell, all in the hopes of liking myself. I had great success at first, going to the gym almost manically, losing something like 14 pounds ij the first month, but then I gave up on myself as my life took a tragic turn, and I started funneling all of the emotions into writing rather than keeping up with the much needed exercise.

I’ve watched myself turn back into the borderline morbidly obese woman that I had once tried so hard to beat, and I guess you could say that I have beat her… I am now bigger than I was back then; the scale and the measuring tape with say so. I made the decision the week before Christmas o try something new after the festivities of the new year were done. I saw an add on FB for a dance studio offering an introductory ballroom lesson for $49 and I jumped on it. Monday. January 2, was the next “new” start. I say this because I decided to take to heart the posts I kept seeing on FB saying that, on January 1, it was the start of a new 365 page story, write a good one. Well, I worked on New Years Day, so my new story started on January 2… I went to that dance lesson and I.Loved. It. I’m ready to go back again, have some more fun, awaken muscles that haven’t been used since the 1990’s! Yes, I was a sweaty mess, yes, I was clumsy, but I still left smiling.

But wait, there’s more (stop grumbling)! I also joined a new gym, one that is closer to where I live withe better, and much more, equipment than the last one had. Of course, when you join a gym, you get your “free consultation with a personal trainer,” and yep, I bit the bullet and bought a month of training, three times a week. Today was the first session with him, Sam. He might just fall into the category of Sadist, just like my original one was all those years ago.

I didn’t cry, not this morning, and not since then, at least not yet. We did the weight, body fat, and measurements today. It was bad; real bad. He was kind, telling me that he didn’t have to tell me the numbers, but if I’m going to give this another try, then I have to own the numbers. And, like last time, I will not hide anything from myself in tis blog. I’ll share the fun, the tears, the failures, the successes,  the gains, and the losses. I will say that I HOPE to #giveit100 – we will see together, so far I’m completed 3 days.

Here is the ugly truth: Weight -247.2  Body fat- 40 Neck -17 1/2 inches Waist-46 inches Hips- 50 inches

As I said, I’ve not cried. Yet.

 

 

Mirror, Mirror

Over the course of this blog, it has morphed from this, to that, to something in outer space, and back to Earth as something else all together. Wow, I’ve either covered a lot of ground, or I have a lot to say, or I just share whatever is rolling around in my mind…I guess that third option pretty well covers it. Now it seems Im going to write about what I started with so very long (almost 2 years?!?) ago.

Back in July 2013 I stepped on the scale and crumbled inside myself at the number. It was an eye opener, that’s for sure (you can read it here). I made the decision then and there to improve myself, eat healthier, get exercise, become fit versus the fat. I went to a local gym, joined immediately, and signed up for twice weekly sessions with a trainer, who I went on to refer to as Sadist in follow up posts.I was focused, dedicated, and happily workingman ass off and stress out of my system. Then the inevitable happened…

I burned out. I went too hard, too fast, and my mind, my focus, blipped out. When I worked out it was, admittedly half assed. I gave up on myself. The shame and embarrassment were back, stronger than ever. I tried to like myself, pretending that I did, but looking in the mirror grew more and more difficult.

Life and death happened. Books closed and new books with fresh pages opened for me to write the new part of my life on…and I have written. I can spin tales, smiling while I do, making everyone believe the lies are truth. Everyone, that is, except for me.

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I hate the mirror. When I do look at it, I hate what I see when my eyes travel lower than my face because that is when I see the truth. What I see and how I react to it? They’re neither one healthy. No, there’s no self harming. But the constant, persistent voice inside my head is back, like an achy tooth. It nags at me, when I look in the mirror.

I’m back to square one, with a lot more weight than I had twenty-two months ago. I need to get back. I need to move. I need to focus. I need to succeed.

I have to start.

No Photographs, Please!

Wow. There’s nothing like a new low. I live with it every day, facing it and actively ignoring it. that is until a pivotal moment that gobsmacked me. Going about my day-to-day existence knowing in the back of my head what’s coming. Today was that clarifying, or re-clarifying, moment.

I spent a week sitting on my butt in a hotel learning about writing, what I need to do to create the best manuscript I can, how to query and pitch it, and to never stop learning. Meeting some truly fabulous people in the industry from publishers, agents, editors, authors, and cover models. And I was going to set about snapping my picture throughout the events. That was until I looked at myself in the pictures.

I’m back to being the woman I once was, insecure, unhappy, and way too heavy. Time to figure out a new way to fix and find myself. I have absolutely no idea what the current number on the scale says; don’t really care right now, to be honest. It’s too much, by a lot… 70 pounds minimum, could even be close to topping out at 100 pounds of too damn much.

Eff me. How, or rather why do I do this to myself? I’m an embarrassment to myself, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my kids were not embarrassed by me as well. What a way to represent.

So, I need to drop as much weight as humanly possible before next Memorial Day, in time for my daughters graduation. Here I go again…

Time is Flying By

Wow! How is it we are already near the end of August? Labor Day is a mere ten days away? We won’t even get into the autumn and winter holidays that are steadily creeping up on us. *shudders*

Here in Texas, it is the last day of classroom preparations before the public school bells ring on Monday morning, signaling the start of a new school year. Am I upset that for the first time in ten years teaching I am not participating in all of the back to school workshops, trainings, and stress? The answer is a resounding “NO!” Do I miss my colleagues? My friends? Will I miss seeing how my former students have grown? Yes. But I know in my heart that I need this year away from the classroom to focus on myself. I need to be certain that the classroom is really where I want to be.

I have spent my summer transitioning into a new department at the Home Depot store I have been working part time at, and beginning Monday, I will switch to a full time employee. Many people have asked if I am happy in retail and my answer is, again, YES! I am happier when I go to, and come home from, work. My stress level is considerably less, and oddly, I have more time for myself, and my family, and doing things I want to do.

I completed my first manuscript this month, a contemporary romanic fiction that I hope will become the first in a series of four novels. Time will tell how that goes. Life, living life, is about taking risks, doing things that frighten you. I am a self admitted wimp, but this year has forced me to start changing the way I live, and challenging myself with goals. This is one of them.

The other thing I am looking at (again. I know.) is the outer me. I hate it. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. I loathe getting dressed because I am so dissatisfied with all of the excess me. Can I blame anyone? Nope. I’ve done it to myself, for the nth time in my 43 years. I need to, and have to, change everything about myself for so many reasons. *sigh* I hope the Sadist (my trainer, if you’re new to my blog) is ready for this. He may need to channel his inner Ghostbuster gamma-ray gun and get ready to blast the Stay Puft marshmallow woman I have become.

 

 

How many “agains” can I get?

I know it has been said by me too many times to count, so I will zip my lips, or still my fingers, and not say that tonight I started over, again, with my trainer, AKA “Sadist.” I will say that I am trying to get my life back on track in all areas that I have let lapse over the past several months while I dealt, literally, with life and death, and leaving a career I truly enjoy at a workplace for an employer that I didn’t. It has been a challenge at times to even find the will to get out of bed, and I am now paying for that both physically and mentally. While I have already started on the mental healing (that is why there has been a sudden abundance of blog posts again: cathartic), I am now ready to start getting back to the gym to get back to a healthier (and therefore happier?) version of myself.

 

My biggest concern is that I will either go crazy “balls to the wall” again, and burn myself out, or I will become discouraged because, unfortunately, weight does not go away as quickly as it comes on. 43 is not an easy age to try and create/ start/ maintain a lifestyle change. There are too many habits that have formed over my lifetime that are so dang hard to break, or bend, or whatever. I think my next hurdle is to reevaluate my goals and make them realistic for myself. I still have too much weight that I need and want to lose, and I am realistic to know that I will never again find the 150 pounds that I was (when I thought that was fat) that I was in high school. I have looked at charts and the healthy weight range for my 5’11” goes from  136 – 176 pounds. I can aim for the 176 end of the scale, knowing that if I can get close to that number I will be so much better off than I am now.

 

When I started this entire blogging process last July, I laid myself bare and gave you all of the ugly truths in numbers about my body, but I find that I cannot do that this time around. I know it is body shaming on a personal level that is keeping me from revealing that much about my setbacks. One of these days I hope to find the courage to share my progress with you, and the numbers in the change, and honestly, I am too cowardly to step on the scale, or reach for a tape measure to get my new readings because I know they are worse than before.

 

I just need to keep in mind that it is a slow process, and it is not an easy one. There will be so many temptations and pitfalls along the way, but I cannot let then take run of my life like I have. So, as usual, I will keep you posted on things.

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