Changes: Day 24

It is hard for me to believe that I am already into my fourth week of this lifestyle challenge /change, something that I can honestly say I would typically have started to half-ass by now. Not really trying, mainly because I would be discouraged with the lack of changes in my body. Failing to realize that the firsthand most important change that has to occur takes place in the mind.

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Here I am, closing in on the end of one month, and I have to admit that it is getting easier. Because of the fight that I am putting into this time (I really don’t want to be this fat, yes, but moreover, unhealthy, anymore), adjusting what I eat, how I eat, and why I eat, and getting back into a cardio mind, I have begun to notice some changes, most of them are small, and seemingly insignificant topmost people, but to me? These changes are mountains that I have been climbing.

The biggest change in me is my energy. It has been almost a year since I have been able to walk at the rates that I have been pushing myself to over the past few weeks, and it feels exhausting!! Seriously, finally pushing myself to a 15 minute mile after so long is kicking my butt, and I take a while for my body to cool, and my heart rate to slow, but I feel good about what I have done. I do vary my treadmill speeds and add the occasional baby incline (I’m not a masochist!) to keep my body guessing.

The other change (I’ve been told by family) is a physical change, a narrowing of my face, and a tightening up pf my legs. These changes I don’t see. Yet. But I know they are coming. I have to take these words with a grain of salt because they come from my family, and they don’t want to see me fail myself again. I know that they say it takes 4 weeks to you to notice a change. It takes 8 weeks for friends to notice it. It takes 12 weeks for everyone else to notice it.

Day 24 and I am down 12 pounds so far, about 6 pounds from reaching my first milestone goal. Am I going to keep at it? Yes. Why? Because I am ready to do it this time.

Cheers for 2015!

I did it. I have blown the sides of my comfortable little box wide open. I ended last year with the release of my first book, a novella that, while not a best seller, I can take pride in the fact that I wrote my first book, and am currently working on another two.

Beyond that, and wow, is that crazy for me to even say?!, is that I have followed a dream and travelled to Ireland. I’m actually sitting in the hotel pub! My holiday here ends on Tuesday before I venture into London and then onto France to visit with my brother and his family.

I wrote back in June (Really? That long ago??) that I was going to start living boldly (you can read about it here). I gave a list of things that I wanted to accomplish, and while I never made it to the dance classes, I did make it out of the country. This is, in my mind, a much bigger leap in the “live boldly” pool.

What can I try and challenge myself with this year? Of course theres the obligatory “lose weight,” “exercise more,” “Get healthy,” routine that I pledge to do every year, but never get around to doing… Maybe a bit of reverse psychology is needed? This year I resolve to do nothing healthy, eat pure crap and laze around all the time?

This year I will try to respect myself more. I am who I am, nothing more, nothing less. I can’t expect people to like me if I don’t like myself. How can I like myself if I don’t respect myself?

This year I’m going to do at least three things that will better me. Maybe learn something? Train for, and complete, something? I don’t know, but it has to be three things.

This year I’m going to be a better Mom, and a better daughter. I let the events of early last year control so much of my time. It’s been almost a year; it’s time to move on.

I’m sure there’re more things that will pop into my brain as the year goes; we’ll see what happens in 2015.

Hell hath no fury like a…

…Like a trainer scorned. Forget about the whole “woman scorned” thing, I stepped back into the gym, AKA Dungeon, on Friday to meet with my long ignored trainer, AKA Sadist, AKA Satan. I should have known something was up. Oh, he gave no easily recognized clues, but I should have picked up on the happy malevolence that was him.

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It started easily enough, warming up on the treadmill for 10 minutes of walking, getting the blood pumping a bit faster, warming up my neglected muscles. You all know the drill whether you are an gym rat, or a gym ghost (like me). There I am, happily plodding along on the treadmill, thinking various thoughts when he asks if I am ready to roll. I should never have said “yes” to that question…

Satan leads me into his den -er, office, where he announces that we are starting from scratch with me, need to get me back to the motivated, on track client that I once was, and then he cores the unspeakable… He pulls out the tape measure and the body fat thingy (*not its clinical name) and tells me to hop on the scale.

Efffffffffffffffffffffffff.

I knew what the scale would say, I had been to the doctor two days before that, so I walked out and walked back in, giving him that number. He wrote it down on the new, clean “progress” page, and then went to flipping back in his book to where I was before I basically quit on myself. I had ballooned all the way up to where I had been, plus an additional 20 pounds. You can see the progress I had made here.

After the weigh in and body fat analyst, he pulled out out the dreaded tape measure. Yeah, um, let’s just say my month of horrors began a few days early. It’s humbling to see myself reduced back to numbers again; numbers that I promised myself I would stay away from. What was even more distressing was the fact that I have let myself go so much that the workout had me huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf and sweating like a newbie at a chili pepper eating contest.

The question, or trick, is how to re-motivate myself? I know that it’s about my health, the very health I’ll need to watch my children eventually graduate college and grace me with grand babies. Ive looked throughout my home searching for a genie, or some “miracle fat cure” that would make this time around different from the last too-many-to-counts.

I’ll figure it out,  or at least try to. There are a lot of potholes on this road that I’ve laid in front of me, I just need to be better at dodging them.

josh

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

It’s like Fonzie jumping the sharks…

I did it. I bit the bullet, and only because I have a new scale in my bathroom.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been practicing getting on it bravely -fiercely- but I would make certain to get on it without my contacts in, thus preventing me from seeing the illuminated numbers. I have been circling around the scale, like a shark circles its prey, only, not really because I knew that once I finally took that step, one molecule at a time until I was standing fully on it, there would be no turning back from the reality of what I have allowed to happen.

 

So there I was this morning, walking innocently into the bathroom, happy because it’s the weekend, and I have accomplished a lot toward my writing goal this week. I’m smiling, I’m singing to myself; there are virtual blue birds flitting around me in my mind, for crying out loud! I’m not paying attention to what I am doing when I pop in my contacts and turn to my right, and then I see it. The it I have been able to ignore, overlook, not see no matter how hard I squinted…

 

Now I have no more excuses to delay the inevitable. My mind starts reeling with possible excuses but there is no valid reason to not take this step. There I am, staring at it; oh, it looks all sweet and loving until you step foot on it and then LIES! or what I wish were lies.

 

Okay, I’m telling myself, if it hurts, it’ll only be for a minute. You know the truth will be hideous. You’ve only yourself to blame for this, so suck it up, Buttercup. It is time to face the music. No more delusions. Reality, and a full dose of it, is due. We’ve had a lot of things thrust at us over the past several months, and we coped the only way we knew, but that time is over. There are better ways to cope than shoving comfort food in your mouth, and you’re taking those steps. It’s time.

 

Yes, I had to give myself a pep talk slash guilt trip, but I did it. I eased up on the sleeping beast, tapped its corner to wake it up, took a deep breath, sucked in my stomach (don’t judge me) and climbed on. The numbers blinked and flashed like the national debt billboard until they finally stopped at 237.1

 

It was /is bad, but I did not fall apart. I fell apart in February and May, and too many times in the months between to count. The reality is I can handle this, and I can take steps to fix it. I’ve had the worst and this is nowhere even remotely close. The amazing thing is, even though it did ding my self esteem and body image, making it a little worse than it already was, I am okay. I’m still wearing dresses, or skirts and cute tops to work, I’m fixing my hair, and I am wearing makeup. I did not self destruct.

 

Women mostly, and men, have a preconceived idea of what we are “supposed to” look like, thanks to film and print media. But the world is made up of such diversity, so many colors, shapes, textures, and even sizes. We (and I am mainly talking to myself here) have got to remember and accept that we are not all the same, and I am learning to love myself as I am.