Next year, I want to be a better blogger. I've written exactly one post that I'm kinda proud of. And even then, only kinda.. well, maybe I am. I dunno.
Anyway, back to the important stuff. Next year I want to be a better blogger, get a handle on my finances, lose 50lb and actually keep it off for years, find and sustain a meaningful romantic relationship, finish my wine cabinet, and remove 1/2 of the (my) boxes from my basement. I think those goals are just enough to be a challenge, but not so lofty that I can't achieve at least 80% of them.
I don't really believe in resolutions. I think resolutions were made to be broken. They give people something to talk about at end of year parties and the first week or so after returning to the office from a long holiday break. People's eyes get all shiny and sparkly when they talk about all the good they'll do in the new year. I think this is a lovely, wonderful thing except: if you fail or don't quite meet expectations, you tend to throw in the towel and just give up all together. I am not a quitter, and I hate that attitude. If you get knocked down, it's ok to cry a little, maybe sit on the ground feel sorry for yourself for a moment or two, but for heavens' sakes, GET UP AGAIN. So, I have goals, not resolutions. And I make goals ALL THE TIME, not just on the first of the year. It just so happens, though, that it's December 26. I'm not going to complete ANY of the above goals in the next 5 days. So, logically, I plan to achieve those goals next year.
What are your goals for the coming year?
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Long Time No Write
I have blogged in.. oh.. a month.. whoa. I've been having issues, as I think I probably said in the last entry. At the time I felt like I was getting back on track, but I wasn't quite there yet. Now my meds seem to be worked out, and I'm slowly getting back into the exercise thing.
I went to the gym on Monday. It was fab. Seriously. I ran just over 2.5 miles on the treadmill, did upper strength, and then did 20 minutes on the arc trainer. Oh, arc trainer, how I have missed you! You kicked my ass, but in a good way. I felt so good I wasn't mean to people the next day. HIGH FIVE! And then Tuesday came and I was all "yeah, I'm SO gonna work out tonight! 2 miles a day bitches!!" and as the day was winding down, I was more like "omg I'm so tired.... can't.. keep... head... uuuuuup...." So I rallied myself and put ice in my water bottle and was SURE I was going to force myself to get TO the gym, because once I'm in the door, I have to do something. I think in the past 5 years of gymming I've only left with a pathetic workout once. It was something like 20 minutes and there was just no way in hell I was going to be able to push myself.
So anyway, then my gbf texts me.. spaghetti tonight! Aaaaaand.. I crumbled. I went over, drank most of a huge bottle of wine, ate a lot of delicious spaghetti, and sat on my ass. All night. Ugh.
Today, I am yet again determined to hit the gym right after work. This morning I realized that my weekend workouts might be a little messed up because of Friday's tattooage. I'll do what I can though. And tomorrow morning I have to work out before work because of my evening chiropractor appointment. Gar.
I'm not winning the battle of the bulge so far. It's disappointing. I'm working on it though... still.
I went to the gym on Monday. It was fab. Seriously. I ran just over 2.5 miles on the treadmill, did upper strength, and then did 20 minutes on the arc trainer. Oh, arc trainer, how I have missed you! You kicked my ass, but in a good way. I felt so good I wasn't mean to people the next day. HIGH FIVE! And then Tuesday came and I was all "yeah, I'm SO gonna work out tonight! 2 miles a day bitches!!" and as the day was winding down, I was more like "omg I'm so tired.... can't.. keep... head... uuuuuup...." So I rallied myself and put ice in my water bottle and was SURE I was going to force myself to get TO the gym, because once I'm in the door, I have to do something. I think in the past 5 years of gymming I've only left with a pathetic workout once. It was something like 20 minutes and there was just no way in hell I was going to be able to push myself.
So anyway, then my gbf texts me.. spaghetti tonight! Aaaaaand.. I crumbled. I went over, drank most of a huge bottle of wine, ate a lot of delicious spaghetti, and sat on my ass. All night. Ugh.
Today, I am yet again determined to hit the gym right after work. This morning I realized that my weekend workouts might be a little messed up because of Friday's tattooage. I'll do what I can though. And tomorrow morning I have to work out before work because of my evening chiropractor appointment. Gar.
I'm not winning the battle of the bulge so far. It's disappointing. I'm working on it though... still.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Working Out, Working It Out
So, I've been struggling, as you know. For some reason, accepting myself and being happy with myself is really hard for me. I've gotten very close to being, both physically and mentally, the person I'd like to be. And then somewhere, somehow, I kinda lost it. And I've been mourning that loss. Maybe in the back of my mind, but I have been in mourning.
It's time for me to move on. I started working on figuring this shit out, oh, probably a couple months ago, at least. I hit my rock bottom, where my clothes stopped fitting and I was suddenly in a bigger size, and the doctor's scale read over 230lbs. I decided I needed to move more, to weight train more, to motivate myself to run more. I also decided to go on a new medication, because I have a feeling that the one I was on (Zoloft) was encouraging weight gain, in addition to being of no help anymore. I started Wellbutrin instead and had some really weird side effects. They tapered off a little, so I went back to the gym. And then, last night at the gym, I came to some realizations. So I'm in a new phase now.
I decided, while taking a 30 second or so rest between sets, that I need to stop the Wellbutrin. It doesn't make me feel well. I feel better than when I was on the Zoloft, but I can't tell if it's because I'm ON the Wellbutrin or OFF the Zoloft. I read some forums about it, and apparently you can stop cold turkey, especially on the lower dosages like I am, and not have many (if any) withdrawal symptoms. Hallelujah. So, today is the first day I'm off that shit. I'm still a little dizzy/spinny but I'm hoping to get it out of my system by the weekend.
Decision #2 that I made, and I can't pinpoint exactly when I came to this decision, is that I'm going to get personal training sessions. So, I contacted a facebook friend of mine, that my dad connected me with because he thought we'd have something in common. Turned out, she's one kick-ass woman. Tattooed all over, very lean, muscular, in short: FIERCE. I messaged her asking what her prices were for training. She said two 30-minute sessions per week for $25/each, and gave me the location of the gym she trains out of.
Her gym is about 40 minutes away, and I'm not a member. They do require membership, but are willing to give it for $9/mo. I figure, I'll cancel my current gym membership and when it runs out, join the local location of the gym she trains out of. It's only $12/mo for that. And since I'm no longer going to be taking my anti-depressants, that will help cover some of the cost of training. I'll have to cut back other places too.
After emailing with my new trainer, I'm rather pumped about this idea. The last time I had personal training sessions, it was after I'd lost weight on my own and needed a little change of pace and some help learning strength routines. I was only doing it for 30 minutes, 1 time per week. I'm thinking my new training sessions should be pretty effective.
I'm exhausted right now- not sure if it's because I was up late watching the election, or if it's because of stopping my meds. But, I think instead of going to the gym tonight, I'll go home and nap before tackling some homework. I'll go to the gym tomorrow after work, and on Friday at lunch. And then I'll take off the weekend.
And in other news, I think I'm falling... but more on that later.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Running Fast
After my mini-meltdown yesterday I decided it would behoove me to go to the gym after work. Not only do I need to train for my upcoming 3 races between now and Christmas, but I also need to do something to improve my outlook.
So, after work, I went home, did a couple of chores, changed into gym clothes, and headed out. I decided to start on the treadmill, in the main area of the gym, despite feeling really fat in my gym clothes, and not at all sure of myself. And then I got angry. And I started to run. And I set the treadmill to 4.9mph, which is faster than I'd been doing before. Then I bumped it up to 5, 5.2, 5.4, 5.6, 5.7. One minute up, one minute down, walk for a minute. Then I did it again. And again. One of my running intervals was 3 minutes, not 2. I started to cry twice. I remember in the past when I would do that. I didn't mind though. For one, I get so red and sweaty when I run that no one would have noticed. For another, the point of exercise is, in part, to cleanse. Cleanse away girl, get it OUT. I got angry again. I ran harder.
Then I got a little dizzy. Damn medication.
Next, weights. Lat pull-downs, seated rows, chest flyes. 10 more minutes of running. Not quite as fast (the first go-round I averages an 11:37, which is amazing for me lately), but I still ran. And it was good. I'm going again tonight. I'm going to run fast until I can't catch my breath, slow down for a minute, and do it again. An eventually, this pissy mood and sadness will go away.
So, after work, I went home, did a couple of chores, changed into gym clothes, and headed out. I decided to start on the treadmill, in the main area of the gym, despite feeling really fat in my gym clothes, and not at all sure of myself. And then I got angry. And I started to run. And I set the treadmill to 4.9mph, which is faster than I'd been doing before. Then I bumped it up to 5, 5.2, 5.4, 5.6, 5.7. One minute up, one minute down, walk for a minute. Then I did it again. And again. One of my running intervals was 3 minutes, not 2. I started to cry twice. I remember in the past when I would do that. I didn't mind though. For one, I get so red and sweaty when I run that no one would have noticed. For another, the point of exercise is, in part, to cleanse. Cleanse away girl, get it OUT. I got angry again. I ran harder.
Then I got a little dizzy. Damn medication.
Next, weights. Lat pull-downs, seated rows, chest flyes. 10 more minutes of running. Not quite as fast (the first go-round I averages an 11:37, which is amazing for me lately), but I still ran. And it was good. I'm going again tonight. I'm going to run fast until I can't catch my breath, slow down for a minute, and do it again. An eventually, this pissy mood and sadness will go away.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Why Cat-Ladydom is an Inevitability
I'm trying not to be a downer here, but there's a good chance it'll come across that way.. so feel free to stop reading here. I write these things mostly to get stuff out of my head, or sort through some of my thoughts. I don't honestly expect anyone to read, or care what I write. That's not the point anyway.
It seems that I've evened out now, as far as my meds go. I can't remember whether I've written anything since I started the Wellbutrin, but just to re-cap: Zoloft wasn't working anymore. I was depressed even though I was on antidepressants. So, I went to the doctor and told him this, and that I'd gained back more than 50lb of what I'd lost before. He said, try Wellbutrin. At first, it made me feel weird. And hyper. And a lot happier. But I also suddenly was way more emotional. It was like the Zoloft not only took the depression away (initially) but it also tamped out my emotions all together. Not good.
So, now I'm weepy on occasion, and I've been a lot happier and more easy going. Today, though, I'm depressed. Remember when I told you about the ex? Yeah, I was supposed to stop the nookie and just be friends with him. That worked ONE time after we talked about it. He came up the weekend I changed meds, because I was feeling weird and had to cancel all my plans. Then the weekend after that.. I forget why. Then he came up this week, Monday to Wednesday, because of the hurricane that never really did much here. During the visit I nearly dropped an L-bomb. And now I'm at work, at my desk, trying desperately not to break down in tears, while several friends tell me they think the guy is using me because I'm safe and comfortable to him.
I want to fucking give up. Ever since I was little I wanted nothing more than to be in love, and have that love returned. And not long after I started dreaming about that, I had a feeling, that I KNEW it would never happen. It broke my heart, and it still does.. and this is the part where I can't control the tears. Hopefully no one tries to talk to me before I get it together again..
Anyway.. I have no faith or hope that I will find that amazing love I've always wanted. Or any love at all for that matter. Don't start with the platitudes or the "don't be so hard on yourself" bullshit. You can think whatever you want, just please keep it to yourself. I'm not asking for your pity, or advice, or for you to tell me it'll be ok and I'll see. This is just how I feel, and as much as you don't want to hear it, or don't like me putting myself down (as you may see it), they're my goddamn feelings and I'm allowed to have them.
The reason I have these feelings is that I've never been the girl that anyone wanted a relationship with. I'm not talking about sex. That was true at one time, but that's changed. But sex isn't love, although they're not mutually exclusive either. I was almost 20 before I had my first kiss. That was the same guy I lost my virginity to, and the same guy I was then married to for over 6 years. The same guy that my dad hated, and my mom, apparently, didn't like much either. Then that was over, and for the 7 years since, I haven't been in another relationship. It's not for lack of trying, either. I just never seem to get my feelings reciprocated. And honestly, it seems really fucking unfair. I think I'm a decent person. I don't hurt other people, or animals. I recycle. I give to charity. I give people baked goods, and presents, and my ear when they need someone to listen. I am now the proud owner of two spazz-tastic cats. But here's the rub- I will probably be an old cat lady; childless, alone, forced to leave my fortune to my cats or the SPCA or something.
I say this because this morning while talking to people about the ex that came to stay with me for two days during the storm, it was suggested that he's using me. I am a comfortable, known entity, and he knows he'll have a good time with me. So, while I spent the night, next to him, listening to his snoring, and thinking how cute it is that he steals all the covers and lays diagonally across the bed, nearly forcing me off of it, and thinking how I almost dropped the L-bomb, popular opinion is that he's got a warm place to stay and that's all I am to him.
Talk about a dagger to the heart. This is the second time I've fallen for him and I think this will be the second time he devastates me. And according to one friend, I'm the one to blame. Because I'm "letting" him. So, I will be a fucking cat lady. That is my destiny, apparently.
It seems that I've evened out now, as far as my meds go. I can't remember whether I've written anything since I started the Wellbutrin, but just to re-cap: Zoloft wasn't working anymore. I was depressed even though I was on antidepressants. So, I went to the doctor and told him this, and that I'd gained back more than 50lb of what I'd lost before. He said, try Wellbutrin. At first, it made me feel weird. And hyper. And a lot happier. But I also suddenly was way more emotional. It was like the Zoloft not only took the depression away (initially) but it also tamped out my emotions all together. Not good.
So, now I'm weepy on occasion, and I've been a lot happier and more easy going. Today, though, I'm depressed. Remember when I told you about the ex? Yeah, I was supposed to stop the nookie and just be friends with him. That worked ONE time after we talked about it. He came up the weekend I changed meds, because I was feeling weird and had to cancel all my plans. Then the weekend after that.. I forget why. Then he came up this week, Monday to Wednesday, because of the hurricane that never really did much here. During the visit I nearly dropped an L-bomb. And now I'm at work, at my desk, trying desperately not to break down in tears, while several friends tell me they think the guy is using me because I'm safe and comfortable to him.
I want to fucking give up. Ever since I was little I wanted nothing more than to be in love, and have that love returned. And not long after I started dreaming about that, I had a feeling, that I KNEW it would never happen. It broke my heart, and it still does.. and this is the part where I can't control the tears. Hopefully no one tries to talk to me before I get it together again..
Anyway.. I have no faith or hope that I will find that amazing love I've always wanted. Or any love at all for that matter. Don't start with the platitudes or the "don't be so hard on yourself" bullshit. You can think whatever you want, just please keep it to yourself. I'm not asking for your pity, or advice, or for you to tell me it'll be ok and I'll see. This is just how I feel, and as much as you don't want to hear it, or don't like me putting myself down (as you may see it), they're my goddamn feelings and I'm allowed to have them.
The reason I have these feelings is that I've never been the girl that anyone wanted a relationship with. I'm not talking about sex. That was true at one time, but that's changed. But sex isn't love, although they're not mutually exclusive either. I was almost 20 before I had my first kiss. That was the same guy I lost my virginity to, and the same guy I was then married to for over 6 years. The same guy that my dad hated, and my mom, apparently, didn't like much either. Then that was over, and for the 7 years since, I haven't been in another relationship. It's not for lack of trying, either. I just never seem to get my feelings reciprocated. And honestly, it seems really fucking unfair. I think I'm a decent person. I don't hurt other people, or animals. I recycle. I give to charity. I give people baked goods, and presents, and my ear when they need someone to listen. I am now the proud owner of two spazz-tastic cats. But here's the rub- I will probably be an old cat lady; childless, alone, forced to leave my fortune to my cats or the SPCA or something.
I say this because this morning while talking to people about the ex that came to stay with me for two days during the storm, it was suggested that he's using me. I am a comfortable, known entity, and he knows he'll have a good time with me. So, while I spent the night, next to him, listening to his snoring, and thinking how cute it is that he steals all the covers and lays diagonally across the bed, nearly forcing me off of it, and thinking how I almost dropped the L-bomb, popular opinion is that he's got a warm place to stay and that's all I am to him.
Talk about a dagger to the heart. This is the second time I've fallen for him and I think this will be the second time he devastates me. And according to one friend, I'm the one to blame. Because I'm "letting" him. So, I will be a fucking cat lady. That is my destiny, apparently.
Friday, October 19, 2012
The Demons are Back
I'm frustrated. My doctor's appointment on Wednesday didn't help. The scale told me a glaring 230lb. 230??? What the hell happened? Ugh. Actually, I'm disgusted. I'm disgusted by the weight gain, I'm disgusted with myself, I'm disgusted by how bad my eating habits have gotten. I SAY I don't eat that badly, but I don't write it down. How do I really know?
So yesterday, I started writing it down. I was doing ok, until dinner. I ate an entire box of mac and cheese. I fooled myself into thinking if that was all I had, it wasn't so bad. The other day I also discovered that canned pumpkin tastes delicious in mac and cheese, so I threw in about a half a cup of that. A box of mac and cheese, sans pumpkin, is about 1200 calories. Holy hell. What am I doing to myself?? I polished that off with a piece of pecan pie- the LAST piece- and then, I felt sick. Shocker.
So, the compulsive overeating is back. Why? Because I'm frustrated and pissed off. I'm flunking kinesiology, I'm tired all the goddamn time, work is stressing me out again, I'm not getting exercise, and oh, I've gotten fat again. I've started self-loathing and name-calling. Yeah.. things aren't good right now. I'm ahead of the game because I recognize that things aren't good, but I HAVE to get to the step of fixing the problem, and pronto.
I have two 5-mile races between now and the end of the year, and the 4-mile turkey trot. 5 miles should be easy-peasy. (I was going to say "a piece of cake" but decided that wasn't appropriate here.. especially since I can't have cake anymore.) 5 miles is the most I have to train for, should only take me a little over an hour at my SLOWEST pace, and is a good distance to work on getting faster. Once I realized that the first race was only an 8k and not a 15k (which is more like 9 miles), relief set in. I felt like the problem wasn't quite as big. I mean, it's as big as it was before- 50lb plus- but, it seems like my goal is a little more attainable. I want to lose 20lb by the end of the year. The rest will come in time.
So, I was thinking about all this in bed this morning, exhausted as I have been every morning for about the past month or two. I decided that trying to get to the gym first thing in the morning just isn't going to work. I decided I'll go at lunch time. Yes, it won't be a long workout. I can manage 30 minutes of cardio in that time, plus a shower. But you know what? It's better than nothing. It's a start. It should be enough to start to improve my mood. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to get to work at 8am-ish, hit the gym at lunch time, and run on the weekend. I can do this.
Last night I baked 5 chicken breasts in olive oil, white wine, and fresh herbs with a little Montreal steak seasoning sprinkled on top. I cut them in half, froze 6 halves, and put 4 halves in the fridge. I have one half for lunch today, plus some frozen veg. This weekend I am going to buy eggs, and boil a dozen of them. That's a quick, protein-rich breakfast. I shall not eat anymore pasta, bread, or desserts. I may buy some ricotta to mix with pumpkin puree and eat as a sort of treat. I'm not sure how that'll work, but it's worth a shot. I'm going to make soups. I actually saved the "juice" from when I baked the chicken. I plan to skim the fat off the top, boil it up with veggies, a little veggie broth, and maybe some rice or barley or something, and make a nice soup out of it. I might pop in the remaining two chicken garlic sausages in the fridge, cut into little pieces. I'll freeze the sweet Italian ones I bought. I have fish in the freezer, some collard greens and kale in the fridge. Kale makes a wonderful salad. I love healthy foods. I LOVE veggies. I can do this. I did it before, and this weight came on awfully fast and awfully recently. I should.. no, I WILL knock it out.
My demons will not win this fight. Fear, Self-loathing, Depression. You are not friends of mine and you are not welcome here. I will defeat you.
So yesterday, I started writing it down. I was doing ok, until dinner. I ate an entire box of mac and cheese. I fooled myself into thinking if that was all I had, it wasn't so bad. The other day I also discovered that canned pumpkin tastes delicious in mac and cheese, so I threw in about a half a cup of that. A box of mac and cheese, sans pumpkin, is about 1200 calories. Holy hell. What am I doing to myself?? I polished that off with a piece of pecan pie- the LAST piece- and then, I felt sick. Shocker.
So, the compulsive overeating is back. Why? Because I'm frustrated and pissed off. I'm flunking kinesiology, I'm tired all the goddamn time, work is stressing me out again, I'm not getting exercise, and oh, I've gotten fat again. I've started self-loathing and name-calling. Yeah.. things aren't good right now. I'm ahead of the game because I recognize that things aren't good, but I HAVE to get to the step of fixing the problem, and pronto.
I have two 5-mile races between now and the end of the year, and the 4-mile turkey trot. 5 miles should be easy-peasy. (I was going to say "a piece of cake" but decided that wasn't appropriate here.. especially since I can't have cake anymore.) 5 miles is the most I have to train for, should only take me a little over an hour at my SLOWEST pace, and is a good distance to work on getting faster. Once I realized that the first race was only an 8k and not a 15k (which is more like 9 miles), relief set in. I felt like the problem wasn't quite as big. I mean, it's as big as it was before- 50lb plus- but, it seems like my goal is a little more attainable. I want to lose 20lb by the end of the year. The rest will come in time.
So, I was thinking about all this in bed this morning, exhausted as I have been every morning for about the past month or two. I decided that trying to get to the gym first thing in the morning just isn't going to work. I decided I'll go at lunch time. Yes, it won't be a long workout. I can manage 30 minutes of cardio in that time, plus a shower. But you know what? It's better than nothing. It's a start. It should be enough to start to improve my mood. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to get to work at 8am-ish, hit the gym at lunch time, and run on the weekend. I can do this.
Last night I baked 5 chicken breasts in olive oil, white wine, and fresh herbs with a little Montreal steak seasoning sprinkled on top. I cut them in half, froze 6 halves, and put 4 halves in the fridge. I have one half for lunch today, plus some frozen veg. This weekend I am going to buy eggs, and boil a dozen of them. That's a quick, protein-rich breakfast. I shall not eat anymore pasta, bread, or desserts. I may buy some ricotta to mix with pumpkin puree and eat as a sort of treat. I'm not sure how that'll work, but it's worth a shot. I'm going to make soups. I actually saved the "juice" from when I baked the chicken. I plan to skim the fat off the top, boil it up with veggies, a little veggie broth, and maybe some rice or barley or something, and make a nice soup out of it. I might pop in the remaining two chicken garlic sausages in the fridge, cut into little pieces. I'll freeze the sweet Italian ones I bought. I have fish in the freezer, some collard greens and kale in the fridge. Kale makes a wonderful salad. I love healthy foods. I LOVE veggies. I can do this. I did it before, and this weight came on awfully fast and awfully recently. I should.. no, I WILL knock it out.
My demons will not win this fight. Fear, Self-loathing, Depression. You are not friends of mine and you are not welcome here. I will defeat you.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Rude Awakening
This morning I had an appointment with my doctor where he basically agreed with me that I've gotten fat again. And then he told me to eat less. Thank you, Captain Obvious, for your worthwhile contribution.
I could be pissed at him for calling me fat. Except that he did it after I did, and he never really said it. What he did say is "well, you know fat is coming back in style." To which I replied "Rubenesque will never again be in fashion." We laughed. It wasn't that funny. I've gained back 50 g-d pounds! How the hell did that happen?? Popular opinion is that, yes, the Zoloft may have contributed. Also, I'm depressed again. Some of the old social anxiety started to return. If it comes back full force, that will be a sad, sad day.
So, I'm trying South Beach. Or at least, I'll read about it and decide if I want to throw myself into it or just take some tips and recipes, like the egg cups. Something must be done. I was a size 10 and looking gorgeous. I can be a size 12 and looking gorgeous, but I no matter how I look NOW, at size 16 (it is possible to be a gorgeous size 16), I will not FEEL gorgeous until I get this weight off. I'm not looking to be skinny, just comfortable in my own skin.
I could be pissed at him for calling me fat. Except that he did it after I did, and he never really said it. What he did say is "well, you know fat is coming back in style." To which I replied "Rubenesque will never again be in fashion." We laughed. It wasn't that funny. I've gained back 50 g-d pounds! How the hell did that happen?? Popular opinion is that, yes, the Zoloft may have contributed. Also, I'm depressed again. Some of the old social anxiety started to return. If it comes back full force, that will be a sad, sad day.
So, I'm trying South Beach. Or at least, I'll read about it and decide if I want to throw myself into it or just take some tips and recipes, like the egg cups. Something must be done. I was a size 10 and looking gorgeous. I can be a size 12 and looking gorgeous, but I no matter how I look NOW, at size 16 (it is possible to be a gorgeous size 16), I will not FEEL gorgeous until I get this weight off. I'm not looking to be skinny, just comfortable in my own skin.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Ouch
One of the nice things about the Baltimore Running Festival is that they provide runner tracking. I was even able to track myself on my Facebook page, so other people could see that I was still alive and moving along the course. Unfortunately, it only tracks half marathoners at two places- 6 or so miles, and the finish. But, about 15 people commented on/liked my finishing time. I didn't much like my finishing time, but at least I finished! One commenter asked "how do you feel?" My response was "Ouch."
Yeah.. my feet were staging a coup. My legs were tired, my lungs were tired, and my shoulders were sore. But my feet.. it felt like I'd been walking on hot coals for probably the last 5 miles of the race. I really don't think I have ever felt that much pain in my feet. I didn't even have any blisters when I was done! WTH? Not that I'm complaining about no blisters.. it's just that it seems there should be some kind of visual evidence of my suffering, and there was none. Well, except for the wince I carried on my face the whole time it felt like I was walking on hot coals.
Here's a picture of me, pre-race:
Saturday's race was not my finest moment. Not in the least. But, as badly as I felt I'd done, I was also proud of myself. I finished the race. I jogged across the finish line (I'm not sure you could call what I did "running"). I completed 13.1 for the 4th time in my life.
There were a few things that made Saturday even more special, and definitely worth the effort. I had friends who came out to support me. My Alice walked probably a mile or two just to stand at Lake Montebello and clap for me. She was worried when I didn't show at the time I said I'd expected to (frankly, I was worried too!), but she waited that extra 20 minutes or so, and I was grateful. It means so much to see a friendly, familiar face when you're about 7.5 miles into a half marathon. A couple miles later, a tiny white-haired woman that actually reminded me of another friend's mom, cheered for me specifically. I thanked her, of course. And then, just south of Lexington Market, I saw my friend Brandie, in her baby pink team shirt, and purple zebra Underarmour pants, clapping. I had thought she'd leave before I finished the race. I did not expect to see anyone cheering for me at this point. She stepped off the sidewalk, and walked with me. And when I decided to try to run, she ran with me, all the way to the finish line. "You did it!" I did, and I had two fantastic friends with me the whole time.
Something Alice said to me when I passed her stayed with me the rest of my race. "I'm going to be running with you next year. I don't know how, but I'm going to do it." So, struggling through my final 5-6 miles, I focused on how I could help her make that happen. The relay! And at the finish line, standing with Brandie and my friend Andrew who drove up from VA to see me finish (and missed it), I shared this idea, and both of them said "I'll do it!" So, next year, we are Team Alice. And we will do a MARATHON.
Yeah.. my feet were staging a coup. My legs were tired, my lungs were tired, and my shoulders were sore. But my feet.. it felt like I'd been walking on hot coals for probably the last 5 miles of the race. I really don't think I have ever felt that much pain in my feet. I didn't even have any blisters when I was done! WTH? Not that I'm complaining about no blisters.. it's just that it seems there should be some kind of visual evidence of my suffering, and there was none. Well, except for the wince I carried on my face the whole time it felt like I was walking on hot coals.
Here's a picture of me, pre-race:
Saturday's race was not my finest moment. Not in the least. But, as badly as I felt I'd done, I was also proud of myself. I finished the race. I jogged across the finish line (I'm not sure you could call what I did "running"). I completed 13.1 for the 4th time in my life.
There were a few things that made Saturday even more special, and definitely worth the effort. I had friends who came out to support me. My Alice walked probably a mile or two just to stand at Lake Montebello and clap for me. She was worried when I didn't show at the time I said I'd expected to (frankly, I was worried too!), but she waited that extra 20 minutes or so, and I was grateful. It means so much to see a friendly, familiar face when you're about 7.5 miles into a half marathon. A couple miles later, a tiny white-haired woman that actually reminded me of another friend's mom, cheered for me specifically. I thanked her, of course. And then, just south of Lexington Market, I saw my friend Brandie, in her baby pink team shirt, and purple zebra Underarmour pants, clapping. I had thought she'd leave before I finished the race. I did not expect to see anyone cheering for me at this point. She stepped off the sidewalk, and walked with me. And when I decided to try to run, she ran with me, all the way to the finish line. "You did it!" I did, and I had two fantastic friends with me the whole time.
Something Alice said to me when I passed her stayed with me the rest of my race. "I'm going to be running with you next year. I don't know how, but I'm going to do it." So, struggling through my final 5-6 miles, I focused on how I could help her make that happen. The relay! And at the finish line, standing with Brandie and my friend Andrew who drove up from VA to see me finish (and missed it), I shared this idea, and both of them said "I'll do it!" So, next year, we are Team Alice. And we will do a MARATHON.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Less than 24 hours to race day..
So, tomorrow is the big day: The Baltimore Running Festival Half Marathon 2012. Am I ready?? Dunno? Lately I've felt like I'm in the middle of a battle. A battle with myself, a battle of the bulge, a battle for time.. I don't feel like I'm winning. So, that makes the impending race feel all the more difficult. I'm not sure I'm ready. Friends have said they have faith in me, and I can do it. I appreciate the confidence, I really do.. I just wonder where my OWN confidence is? I can't seem to find it anywhere..
I'm not at all looking forward to getting up at 4am tomorrow. I'm also not looking forward to 2+ hours standing around in the cold, waiting for the race to start, and having to pee every 10 minutes from the nervousness coursing through my body. I'm hoping I can keep a good, slow pace, but still make my 3hr 5min goal finishing time. I have to remember to not start too fast, but also keep up a reasonable pace. Then I have to remind myself that I'm really not doing this to make a specific time, I just want to finish.
Long-distance running really is one great big mind-fuck. Most people are not made to run long distances. But we (some of us) do it anyway. There's something to be said for pushing the limit, doing more than we ever imagined we could, beating our own previous best time, and even feeling the aches and pains that go with embarking on crazy endeavors like that. When I finish I feel such an enormous sense of accomplishment that I can't even describe. Even on training runs, I think "I did it!" At the end of my first half marathon, I expected to cry. I didn't. I felt so out of it and tired that I couldn't even think. At the finish of my fastest 5k ever, though, I did cry. Having been the fat kid who couldn't do any kind of physical exercise well, I'd accomplished something I never even dreamed of.
I'm hoping that I feel that way tomorrow, at the finish line. That no matter how slow I ran, or how tired I am, I feel the emotion of the accomplishment. Really, that's why I do it. Just for that one minute of pride I feel afterwards. It's worth all the blisters and leg cramps in the world, just to say "I did it."
I'm not at all looking forward to getting up at 4am tomorrow. I'm also not looking forward to 2+ hours standing around in the cold, waiting for the race to start, and having to pee every 10 minutes from the nervousness coursing through my body. I'm hoping I can keep a good, slow pace, but still make my 3hr 5min goal finishing time. I have to remember to not start too fast, but also keep up a reasonable pace. Then I have to remind myself that I'm really not doing this to make a specific time, I just want to finish.
Long-distance running really is one great big mind-fuck. Most people are not made to run long distances. But we (some of us) do it anyway. There's something to be said for pushing the limit, doing more than we ever imagined we could, beating our own previous best time, and even feeling the aches and pains that go with embarking on crazy endeavors like that. When I finish I feel such an enormous sense of accomplishment that I can't even describe. Even on training runs, I think "I did it!" At the end of my first half marathon, I expected to cry. I didn't. I felt so out of it and tired that I couldn't even think. At the finish of my fastest 5k ever, though, I did cry. Having been the fat kid who couldn't do any kind of physical exercise well, I'd accomplished something I never even dreamed of.
I'm hoping that I feel that way tomorrow, at the finish line. That no matter how slow I ran, or how tired I am, I feel the emotion of the accomplishment. Really, that's why I do it. Just for that one minute of pride I feel afterwards. It's worth all the blisters and leg cramps in the world, just to say "I did it."
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Figuring things out
I've been trying to figure things out for a long time now. I remember having an epiphany, around age 25, that I come from a long line of crazy. You'd think I'd have known this already, I mean I've had my family all my life, right? But that's just it- it's all I knew. I knew that other people were different, sure, but I didn't really see that there were some pretty major flaws in my people. And then it suddenly dawned on me- mental issues are genetic.. I'm depressed, my parents are depressed, my aunts are depressed, my grandparents were depressed.. wait a minute. Ding!
Yeah, so that was the start of me figuring things out. About two years ago, I thought I had it pretty figured out. And then I started gaining weight back, and I started being more and more dissatisfied with my job and my life and my (lack of) personal life. And now, here I am, 45lb heavier than I was at my sveltist, and once again, I'm trying to figure things out.
Why have I gained weight back? Three theories on that one:
1) my Zoloft (which I started taking, oh, about 2 years ago)
2) my hip injury knocked me off my exercise schedule
3) I'm doing too much at once and am stressed, not sleeping enough, and am not making time to do what I need to do to keep weight off.
I'm also trying to figure out what I should be eating. Should I be changing my diet at all? I'm thinking yes. I'm also thinking I'm broke as hell so I really need to make sure whatever I do it's not too expensive..
So, that's why I went and bought a $60 Cuisinart 15-part smoothie maker, along with a green smoothie bible. I know, there's a madness to my madness...
I also just discovered how very close Weber's Farm is to my office and my house. So at lunch today I bought greens, tomatoes, an onion, apples, and some baked goods that I'm already regretting. (Mental note: don't succumb to the bakery) The greens will go into my green smoothie that I plan to work on over the weekend, with my brand new Cuisinart smoothie maker.
I recently reconnected with an old work friend, from my former life. We have a lot in common even though we're sort of opposite in a lot of ways. We've both suffered eating disorders, though hers was she didn't eat and mine was I ate everything in sight (they're FINALLY recognizing that as an eating disorder!). Her family's messed up, but in a very conservative, Mormon way. Mine, well.. they're just mine. We both love animals and have a sarcastic dry wit and love food. Yes, you read that right. We love food. I can't remember why we lost touch, but I think it was something to do with each of us going through a mental breakdown at the exact same time. We've been talking a LOT lately through social media- like every day a lot, and I'm really hoping we don't lose touch again.. at least not soon.
Something this friend has helped me realize/recognize is that almost all the women I know have a bad or weird relationship with food. That's like, the cultural norm these days. What the hell is that about? I'm stressed so I reach for a bag of M&Ms, a muffin, a cookie, a big bowl of froyo.. She's stressed, she punishes herself by not eating food at all. Another friend of mine was a compulsive overeater and has cut out flour, sugar, alcohol, and goes to bible study 4 days a week. I've been looking at weight loss blogs today in an attempt to connect with someone going through the same sorts of struggles, and the posts are littered with comments like "be strong" and "don't eat the bad foods."
Food is SO emotional. It should be fuel, sustenance, something to support life. But no, it is capable of so much more. So, I'm trying to figure out my relationship with food and how to wrangle my own demons so I can feel better about myself again. I am proud to point out that I also bought tomatoes at Weber's, and had one with my lunch, cut up into pieces and sprinkled with a little salt and pepper. It was heavenly. After that, I ate the massive pumpkin muffin I bought from the bakery at Weber's. After a few bites, I didn't even want it anymore, but I ate it anyway, almost as a punishment. I have a long way to go.
Yeah, so that was the start of me figuring things out. About two years ago, I thought I had it pretty figured out. And then I started gaining weight back, and I started being more and more dissatisfied with my job and my life and my (lack of) personal life. And now, here I am, 45lb heavier than I was at my sveltist, and once again, I'm trying to figure things out.
Why have I gained weight back? Three theories on that one:
1) my Zoloft (which I started taking, oh, about 2 years ago)
2) my hip injury knocked me off my exercise schedule
3) I'm doing too much at once and am stressed, not sleeping enough, and am not making time to do what I need to do to keep weight off.
I'm also trying to figure out what I should be eating. Should I be changing my diet at all? I'm thinking yes. I'm also thinking I'm broke as hell so I really need to make sure whatever I do it's not too expensive..
So, that's why I went and bought a $60 Cuisinart 15-part smoothie maker, along with a green smoothie bible. I know, there's a madness to my madness...
I also just discovered how very close Weber's Farm is to my office and my house. So at lunch today I bought greens, tomatoes, an onion, apples, and some baked goods that I'm already regretting. (Mental note: don't succumb to the bakery) The greens will go into my green smoothie that I plan to work on over the weekend, with my brand new Cuisinart smoothie maker.
I recently reconnected with an old work friend, from my former life. We have a lot in common even though we're sort of opposite in a lot of ways. We've both suffered eating disorders, though hers was she didn't eat and mine was I ate everything in sight (they're FINALLY recognizing that as an eating disorder!). Her family's messed up, but in a very conservative, Mormon way. Mine, well.. they're just mine. We both love animals and have a sarcastic dry wit and love food. Yes, you read that right. We love food. I can't remember why we lost touch, but I think it was something to do with each of us going through a mental breakdown at the exact same time. We've been talking a LOT lately through social media- like every day a lot, and I'm really hoping we don't lose touch again.. at least not soon.
Something this friend has helped me realize/recognize is that almost all the women I know have a bad or weird relationship with food. That's like, the cultural norm these days. What the hell is that about? I'm stressed so I reach for a bag of M&Ms, a muffin, a cookie, a big bowl of froyo.. She's stressed, she punishes herself by not eating food at all. Another friend of mine was a compulsive overeater and has cut out flour, sugar, alcohol, and goes to bible study 4 days a week. I've been looking at weight loss blogs today in an attempt to connect with someone going through the same sorts of struggles, and the posts are littered with comments like "be strong" and "don't eat the bad foods."
Food is SO emotional. It should be fuel, sustenance, something to support life. But no, it is capable of so much more. So, I'm trying to figure out my relationship with food and how to wrangle my own demons so I can feel better about myself again. I am proud to point out that I also bought tomatoes at Weber's, and had one with my lunch, cut up into pieces and sprinkled with a little salt and pepper. It was heavenly. After that, I ate the massive pumpkin muffin I bought from the bakery at Weber's. After a few bites, I didn't even want it anymore, but I ate it anyway, almost as a punishment. I have a long way to go.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Cat Lady Card Revoked.. Temporarily
So, this blog has turned into a whatever the hell is going on in my life at the moment, rather than being just about exercise and weight loss. But, that makes sense, since I am, after all, more than a number on the scale.. especially since I refuse to weigh myself lately..
Saturday I had my long run half marathon training with Fall Road Running. It was FUN. I ran with my stepdad, which is always fun. He keeps me going. This time, I was kind of dragging him along.. it concerns me slightly, since he's always been a lot faster and he's definitely more muscular and lighter weight than I am. It was 10 miles. Supposedly, we did more than 15-minutes per mile. BUT, I felt like I could probably finish out another 3.1 if I had to. I think I can do this in 3 weeks. Woot.
Yesterday I was supposed to go rescue kittens from NJ. I didn't. The whole rescue thing got weird, and I just was getting a bad feeling about it. I might have been nuts enough to keep all three anyway.. and then I'd have to be taken out in the back and shot. Because of the impending rescue, however, I temporarily got my Crazy Cat Lady membership card. It has since been revoked. However, I spent a good portion of this morning looking at kittens and cats on the internet. I even filled in two different adoption applications. I have not turned them in.
My friend said I really want a man, but am filling my life with cats instead. Dammit, I think she's right. What's weird about that, and the timing, is that I've had three dates with three different guys in the past WEEK. That's a lot for me. I do feel like I'm on a mission now though. I want a boyfriend and am determined to get one. One of my dates seems a little too into me though.. and very hands-on.. so I am put off now. That seems to always happen though- if they like me a lot, I don't want any part..
I've still been having bad thoughts about he who shall not be named. One day I'll get over it.. it's going to take time though. Damn him.
Anyway.. next weekend- 12 miles!! I'm going to be slow as anything at the Baltimore Half, but dammit, I'm going to kick VA Beach Half's ass.
Saturday I had my long run half marathon training with Fall Road Running. It was FUN. I ran with my stepdad, which is always fun. He keeps me going. This time, I was kind of dragging him along.. it concerns me slightly, since he's always been a lot faster and he's definitely more muscular and lighter weight than I am. It was 10 miles. Supposedly, we did more than 15-minutes per mile. BUT, I felt like I could probably finish out another 3.1 if I had to. I think I can do this in 3 weeks. Woot.
Yesterday I was supposed to go rescue kittens from NJ. I didn't. The whole rescue thing got weird, and I just was getting a bad feeling about it. I might have been nuts enough to keep all three anyway.. and then I'd have to be taken out in the back and shot. Because of the impending rescue, however, I temporarily got my Crazy Cat Lady membership card. It has since been revoked. However, I spent a good portion of this morning looking at kittens and cats on the internet. I even filled in two different adoption applications. I have not turned them in.
My friend said I really want a man, but am filling my life with cats instead. Dammit, I think she's right. What's weird about that, and the timing, is that I've had three dates with three different guys in the past WEEK. That's a lot for me. I do feel like I'm on a mission now though. I want a boyfriend and am determined to get one. One of my dates seems a little too into me though.. and very hands-on.. so I am put off now. That seems to always happen though- if they like me a lot, I don't want any part..
I've still been having bad thoughts about he who shall not be named. One day I'll get over it.. it's going to take time though. Damn him.
Anyway.. next weekend- 12 miles!! I'm going to be slow as anything at the Baltimore Half, but dammit, I'm going to kick VA Beach Half's ass.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Pants Pants Pants
About 6 months after I moved to England, I got a job at a department store. A girl in the department next to mine used to use the word "pants" in a different way than we do here. She'd say things like "that film was pants," in much the same way we would say "that movie sucked."
Well, today I'm saying PANTS. But these pants don't suck. These pants are great. They are brick red, and they fit, and they make me feel better about myself. The waist isn't too tight, they accommodate my butt, and they're a snazzy color. I call that a WIN. Yay for pants!!!
I did not run yesterday. I was feeling weird in the afternoon and very very tired. I'm beginning to think I have some kind of deficiency. The tiredness is absolutely ridiculous. So, tonight I'm ignoring the tired. I brought gym clothes to work with me, and intend to change into them at 5pm. Then I'm going to the gym, where I will do run/walk intervals for an hour. After that, I will do homework, and then have an excellent night's sleep.
Here I am, in my new shirt. Sadly, you cannot see the pants.
I am feeling pressure about the upcoming Baltimore Half. I'm worried I will fail. Then I remind myself that I have another month to train and I already did more than 8 miles in a long run. If I can do 8 miles, I can do 13.1. I just need to keep pushing myself and not lose heart.
I love my new pants, but I am hoping they will soon start to be a little loose on me.
Well, today I'm saying PANTS. But these pants don't suck. These pants are great. They are brick red, and they fit, and they make me feel better about myself. The waist isn't too tight, they accommodate my butt, and they're a snazzy color. I call that a WIN. Yay for pants!!!
I did not run yesterday. I was feeling weird in the afternoon and very very tired. I'm beginning to think I have some kind of deficiency. The tiredness is absolutely ridiculous. So, tonight I'm ignoring the tired. I brought gym clothes to work with me, and intend to change into them at 5pm. Then I'm going to the gym, where I will do run/walk intervals for an hour. After that, I will do homework, and then have an excellent night's sleep.
Here I am, in my new shirt. Sadly, you cannot see the pants.
I am feeling pressure about the upcoming Baltimore Half. I'm worried I will fail. Then I remind myself that I have another month to train and I already did more than 8 miles in a long run. If I can do 8 miles, I can do 13.1. I just need to keep pushing myself and not lose heart.
I love my new pants, but I am hoping they will soon start to be a little loose on me.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Shake It
I can't shake this cough. The head congestion seems to be back too. I guess that means I can't ever again use being ill as a reason not to exercise. The last few days, I was using the cramping ache in my quads as a reason not to exercise. Well, that's gone now, so I guess I'll have to get back to it. 5 mile run tonight. That's the plan anyway. After I go to Kohl's with my 15% off coupon and get some fat pants.
Yes, I used that word again- fat. It's not a pretty word. In fact, it's offensive to many people. But it's how I feel, and my feelings are valid, dammit, even if the feeling is disappointment or self-loathing. I know I haven't been doing my BEST lately, but I haven't been doing my worst either. And yet, I've gained and I'm not fitting into my clothes and I feel awkward and unattractive. It really seems unfair.
So colorful pants are "in" right now. And they cost about $25 at Kohl's. I'm gonna get me some. And then I'm gonna wear the shit out of them until they're so big on me (and I'm so small in them) that they fall down around my ankles without a belt, and with a belt, they pleat funny in the ass. Hell yeah.
This morning I had wardrobe issues. I ended up in a dress, with my Underarmour shorts underneath. At first, I tried the dress with leggings. The dress is just a tad too long to look ok over full-length leggings, and my capri ones are dirty. Then I stood in front of the mirror and pulled the hem of the dress up to see how it would look if it were more tunic length. Not terrible. And yet, it's an outfit popular with large women for whom non-elastic wasitbands are uncomfortable, and who want to hide as much of themselves as possible. Ugh. Am I THAT girl again??
Alright, so the plan: run my ass off. Literally. I just need to keep to the plan- that seems to be the hard part anymore. Schooling has effed up my schedule and made me tired to the point that I blow off everything else. Not good. So, 5 miles tonight and 10 on the weekend, and 11 next weekend, and by golly, I will lose this weight. Also, I'm going to start drinking protein shakes after workouts. I read something about that yesterday, suggesting that protein shakes after a workout help to lose weight. We shall see.
Yes, I used that word again- fat. It's not a pretty word. In fact, it's offensive to many people. But it's how I feel, and my feelings are valid, dammit, even if the feeling is disappointment or self-loathing. I know I haven't been doing my BEST lately, but I haven't been doing my worst either. And yet, I've gained and I'm not fitting into my clothes and I feel awkward and unattractive. It really seems unfair.
So colorful pants are "in" right now. And they cost about $25 at Kohl's. I'm gonna get me some. And then I'm gonna wear the shit out of them until they're so big on me (and I'm so small in them) that they fall down around my ankles without a belt, and with a belt, they pleat funny in the ass. Hell yeah.
This morning I had wardrobe issues. I ended up in a dress, with my Underarmour shorts underneath. At first, I tried the dress with leggings. The dress is just a tad too long to look ok over full-length leggings, and my capri ones are dirty. Then I stood in front of the mirror and pulled the hem of the dress up to see how it would look if it were more tunic length. Not terrible. And yet, it's an outfit popular with large women for whom non-elastic wasitbands are uncomfortable, and who want to hide as much of themselves as possible. Ugh. Am I THAT girl again??
Alright, so the plan: run my ass off. Literally. I just need to keep to the plan- that seems to be the hard part anymore. Schooling has effed up my schedule and made me tired to the point that I blow off everything else. Not good. So, 5 miles tonight and 10 on the weekend, and 11 next weekend, and by golly, I will lose this weight. Also, I'm going to start drinking protein shakes after workouts. I read something about that yesterday, suggesting that protein shakes after a workout help to lose weight. We shall see.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Color Run
Billed as the happiest race on the planet, the DC Color Run (5k) was today, in National Harbor, MD. I got up at the ass-crack of dawn, and headed to my friend's house to set out for the race. We had an adventure at Dunkin Donuts with a non English speaker who wanted to give everyone a cinnamon bagel because that's all he knew how to say. Forget getting your coffee the way you want it..
The race started at 9am.. or rather, the first wave set out.. at 9:06. It was 9:36 before our wave set out, and we were in the 4th and quite towards the front of the pack. I tried to run as much as possible without really pushing myself, and lemme tell you- it was hard. I did over 8 miles last week, and this little 3 mile run was really tough. Along the course, there are stations where volunteers throw dyed powder at you. You wear white so the color really shows up and by the end, you're a total mess.
After dancing in clouds of color packets being thrown, about 40 wet wipes, and a clothes change in a public parking garage, we headed back to Baltimore.
I think I got a little sunburnt. My skin is stained- that stuff gets through your pants. My legs were orange and blue, and my torso was covered in blue, green, and purple color dust. It looked like someone had thrown me down the stairs. When I showered, I had to wash my hair three times and the bath water (because my drain doesn't) turned many colors and then a nice shade of muddy brown.
It was lots of fun though. And I got to hang out with girls I rarely see. I'd do it again, but I'd hope to be more fit so I could run more of it. I don't care if a race isn't timed- I still want to do my best.
My legs are still killing me from the squats I did on Friday- yes, THREE DAYS ago. I'm taking tomorrow off, and will be back to it on Tuesday. I am considering attempting an hour or running before work and an hour after.
The race started at 9am.. or rather, the first wave set out.. at 9:06. It was 9:36 before our wave set out, and we were in the 4th and quite towards the front of the pack. I tried to run as much as possible without really pushing myself, and lemme tell you- it was hard. I did over 8 miles last week, and this little 3 mile run was really tough. Along the course, there are stations where volunteers throw dyed powder at you. You wear white so the color really shows up and by the end, you're a total mess.
After dancing in clouds of color packets being thrown, about 40 wet wipes, and a clothes change in a public parking garage, we headed back to Baltimore.
I think I got a little sunburnt. My skin is stained- that stuff gets through your pants. My legs were orange and blue, and my torso was covered in blue, green, and purple color dust. It looked like someone had thrown me down the stairs. When I showered, I had to wash my hair three times and the bath water (because my drain doesn't) turned many colors and then a nice shade of muddy brown.
It was lots of fun though. And I got to hang out with girls I rarely see. I'd do it again, but I'd hope to be more fit so I could run more of it. I don't care if a race isn't timed- I still want to do my best.
My legs are still killing me from the squats I did on Friday- yes, THREE DAYS ago. I'm taking tomorrow off, and will be back to it on Tuesday. I am considering attempting an hour or running before work and an hour after.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
My thyroid says, "Stop eating broccoli?"
I subscribe to a wonderful blog called "Run, Eat, Repeat." I've been reading it faithfully for a few months now. Today's blog talked about thyroid function. I went to the website sited for a nutritionist that the blogger is conversing with and.. o.m.g. that sounds like me!!
Are you doing everything “right,” but not losing weight, or worse, continuing to gain? Are you:
So, I did a little (Google) research, and found this:
Are you doing everything “right,” but not losing weight, or worse, continuing to gain? Are you:
|
|
Foods to Avoid
Certain
foods, called goitrogenic foods, inhibit the thyroid and should be
avoided, says the HerbCompanion website. These foods include broccoli,
cauliflower, spinach, turnips, cassava root, horseradish, kale, peaches
and pears. Particularly when eaten raw, these foods block the absorption
of iodine and can suppress thyroid function.
Breakfast is the most important meal
I've been made fun of for my morning routine. I used to get up two hours (or more) before I had to leave the house in the morning. It took me a while to get moving, and then I'd want coffee, and breakfast, and to sit and watch the news a bit. I still do that, only I do it a little faster, and am usually about 5 minutes late to work.
Some mornings, my day starts with a workout, and then breakfast and coffee and the news. Often times, on those days I eat breakfast at work. Today my alarm went off at 5:15 and I didn't get up. I snoozed, snoozed again and again, reset my alarm. I'll work out after work.
Today for breakfast, I made what I am calling a "chopped omelet." Bascially, it was like a chopped salad, but with eggs instead of lettuce. My chopped omelet consisted of: celery tops, broccoli crown, 1/4 tomato, 1 small red potato, a little olive oil, and some montreal steak seasoning. Here is the concoction pre-egg:
A Facebook friend just messaged me to basically tell me to be comfortable with my body, and that I'm more than my appearance. I get told that a lot. I suppose I project an image of low self-esteem. That should tell me something, but changing one's self-opinion takes a lot of effort and more than just your friends berating you when they think you're putting yourself down.
I don't hate myself, I just have high expectations for myself. I have always wanted to be better, to improve upon myself. I've never been good enough for me. A lot of people don't understand it, and I can't really explain it. But anything less than perfect isn't good enough. I will cheer my friends on, and even strangers. I will tell them they are wonderful beautiful people. But I am never good enough, and never have been. That's just how it is.
I remember times at the gym when I have cried during a workout. I'd be working as hard as I could, pushing myself, and I think my inner voice was asking "when will I be good enough? when will you love ME?" I couldn't answer. I cried.
The scale jumped FOUR pounds. FOUR. I don't understand. My biceps are massive but I know I didn't gain 4lbs of biceps in the past week. I'm hoping this is an anomaly and my body's way of fighting back losing the weight again.
Some mornings, my day starts with a workout, and then breakfast and coffee and the news. Often times, on those days I eat breakfast at work. Today my alarm went off at 5:15 and I didn't get up. I snoozed, snoozed again and again, reset my alarm. I'll work out after work.
Today for breakfast, I made what I am calling a "chopped omelet." Bascially, it was like a chopped salad, but with eggs instead of lettuce. My chopped omelet consisted of: celery tops, broccoli crown, 1/4 tomato, 1 small red potato, a little olive oil, and some montreal steak seasoning. Here is the concoction pre-egg:
A Facebook friend just messaged me to basically tell me to be comfortable with my body, and that I'm more than my appearance. I get told that a lot. I suppose I project an image of low self-esteem. That should tell me something, but changing one's self-opinion takes a lot of effort and more than just your friends berating you when they think you're putting yourself down.
I don't hate myself, I just have high expectations for myself. I have always wanted to be better, to improve upon myself. I've never been good enough for me. A lot of people don't understand it, and I can't really explain it. But anything less than perfect isn't good enough. I will cheer my friends on, and even strangers. I will tell them they are wonderful beautiful people. But I am never good enough, and never have been. That's just how it is.
I remember times at the gym when I have cried during a workout. I'd be working as hard as I could, pushing myself, and I think my inner voice was asking "when will I be good enough? when will you love ME?" I couldn't answer. I cried.
The scale jumped FOUR pounds. FOUR. I don't understand. My biceps are massive but I know I didn't gain 4lbs of biceps in the past week. I'm hoping this is an anomaly and my body's way of fighting back losing the weight again.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Fear
I'm afraid to weigh myself. I could probably guess the number that will appear on the scale. The day after I got the 209, I got the 210. That did it- I'm done with you, scale! It's OVER! Scale sits, lonely, forlorn, propped up against the corner shelf in my bathroom. Scale was never a good companion anyway.
What am I afraid of though? The truth? You know, it's true what they say- the truth hurts. Sometimes, anyhow. The truth is, I weigh more than I'd like. The truth is, my pants don't fit. The truth is, I've gotten slower and fatter. The truth hurts. But the fear- that's what holds us back. Have you ever been too scared to try something new? I have. There's a fear of embarassment, of failure, of disappointment. But you know, if you don't try, you never will succeed. The fear will have kept you from moving forward, from bettering yourself, from learning about yourself. Conquer the fear. Do something you never thought you would.
I did that. I conquered the fear. It took some time, and some baby steps. But eventually I went from running on a treadmill to completing a half marathon in front of hundreds of strangers. If you conquer the fear, the truth stings a little less.
I managed a short-ish workout this morning. Leg presses, seated rows, pec flyes, delt flyes, and speed intervals. I was able to run 1 minute intervals at 5.2 (that's about an 11:30 pace), followed by 90 seconds-2 minutes walking, for 20 minutes. It's slow, but it's faster than I've done lately, so I was pleased. I actually would have liked to double the time of that particular session. Tomorrow I have to get my butt to the gym earlier.
What am I afraid of though? The truth? You know, it's true what they say- the truth hurts. Sometimes, anyhow. The truth is, I weigh more than I'd like. The truth is, my pants don't fit. The truth is, I've gotten slower and fatter. The truth hurts. But the fear- that's what holds us back. Have you ever been too scared to try something new? I have. There's a fear of embarassment, of failure, of disappointment. But you know, if you don't try, you never will succeed. The fear will have kept you from moving forward, from bettering yourself, from learning about yourself. Conquer the fear. Do something you never thought you would.
I did that. I conquered the fear. It took some time, and some baby steps. But eventually I went from running on a treadmill to completing a half marathon in front of hundreds of strangers. If you conquer the fear, the truth stings a little less.
I managed a short-ish workout this morning. Leg presses, seated rows, pec flyes, delt flyes, and speed intervals. I was able to run 1 minute intervals at 5.2 (that's about an 11:30 pace), followed by 90 seconds-2 minutes walking, for 20 minutes. It's slow, but it's faster than I've done lately, so I was pleased. I actually would have liked to double the time of that particular session. Tomorrow I have to get my butt to the gym earlier.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
8.22
I called Sexy Ex on Friday, asking HIM for advice on PB. Yes, that's a little weird. But he's a guy and I thought maybe he could offer some insight. Thing is, he overthinks things more than I do. Sometimes, I think he thinks more like a girl than I do. We talked for over an hour. During that hour, I invited him up for the weekend. I'm not sure what got into me other than after the date with PB, Sexy Ex was looking safe again, and comfortable, and effortless.
He did come up to visit, on Saturday evening. We went to a movie and out to dinner, and then watched Goonies at home. I was nodding out so decided to go to bed and of course as soon as I got up to my room, I was more awake again, so I read my book. Sexy started texting me from the living room. After a few exchanges, he told me not to be surprised if he comes up in the morning for a cuddle. (confused face.) Then I told him he could come up any time he wanted and that I did say he could sleep in my room. About 5 minutes later, he climbed into bed with me. Cuddling ensued.
I'd planned to run 8 miles Sunday morning, but Sexy Ex told me he was driving back home around noon. Apparently, we had ANOTHER miscommunication. I wasn't shocked. That seems to be our M.O. So, instead of running, I opted to cuddle in bed for two hours while watching Sunday Morning. I wonder how many calories cuddling burns? There was kissing. Surely that upped the calorie burn, right? This all goes completely against what I said when I talked to him about being confused about what he wants from me. I didn't care. I am adding to the confusion.
And now for the exercise portion of our program...
I managed an hour-long gym session Sunday evening, with strength training and about 20 minutes on the arc trainer. I felt a million times better afterwards. It still amazes me how so little makes such a big difference. I ran 8.22 miles Monday, at the gym, on the treadmill. It's still humid outside and the weather was really iffy. It took me two hours. I'm incredibly slow. It can only get better though, right? Next weekend, 9 miles. I may even try the trail. Oof.
He did come up to visit, on Saturday evening. We went to a movie and out to dinner, and then watched Goonies at home. I was nodding out so decided to go to bed and of course as soon as I got up to my room, I was more awake again, so I read my book. Sexy started texting me from the living room. After a few exchanges, he told me not to be surprised if he comes up in the morning for a cuddle. (confused face.) Then I told him he could come up any time he wanted and that I did say he could sleep in my room. About 5 minutes later, he climbed into bed with me. Cuddling ensued.
I'd planned to run 8 miles Sunday morning, but Sexy Ex told me he was driving back home around noon. Apparently, we had ANOTHER miscommunication. I wasn't shocked. That seems to be our M.O. So, instead of running, I opted to cuddle in bed for two hours while watching Sunday Morning. I wonder how many calories cuddling burns? There was kissing. Surely that upped the calorie burn, right? This all goes completely against what I said when I talked to him about being confused about what he wants from me. I didn't care. I am adding to the confusion.
And now for the exercise portion of our program...
I managed an hour-long gym session Sunday evening, with strength training and about 20 minutes on the arc trainer. I felt a million times better afterwards. It still amazes me how so little makes such a big difference. I ran 8.22 miles Monday, at the gym, on the treadmill. It's still humid outside and the weather was really iffy. It took me two hours. I'm incredibly slow. It can only get better though, right? Next weekend, 9 miles. I may even try the trail. Oof.
209
August 31
209. Hideous, awful awful number. How I loathe thee.. for one, I'm feeling a lot better about myself. My clothes feel better, and today, I think they look better. My legs are tired, but strong. I'm running. I've run over 10 miles this week so far and haven't gotten to this week's long run yet. What gives??
I shouldn't focus on the number. I should focus on how I feel. I tell others this all the time, but I guess it's a case of do as I say, not as I do. Harumph. 209. I'll show you...
So, this week has been interesting in the land of interpersonal relationships. I'm getting along great with my new roommate. She's really fab, actually. Unfortunately, our cats aren't getting along. But, cats are bitches, so there's not much we can do about that. I had a talk with Sexy Ex last night.. right before I left for a first date with Parkville Baker. Long story short, after voicing my confusion to Sexy Ex, we decided it would be better to be just friends, not sexy friends, since that was a source of stress on our relationship. It made me a little sad. I got choked up while I was telling him what I want (romance, to feel special, affection, yadda yadda), and I felt sad after we talked, and then again when I went to bed last night. I actually cried a little. :( But, I want to keep his friendship and I know he can't give me what I need and want on a deeper level, so this is where we are.
Parkville Baker... we'll call him PB from now on.. well, let me just say this, guys like to lie about their height on dating sites. I don't know why they do this- it's not like we won't find out if there is an actual face-to-face meeting. But they do it, and time and again I'm left a little disappointed that our relationship started with a lie. This is particularly bad when the man in question reports himself to be rather short to begin with. I'm not tall myself- I'm not quite 5'3", but I tell the truth! And although in the past I've mostly dated and been attracted to taller guys (6' and over), I'm trying to give the shorties a chance. But damn, if you say you're 5'5" and you're shorter than I am? We have a problem. Overlooking the height issueand the top of PB's head there were some other things that bothered me while getting to know PB. It took me til this morning to realize the biggest issue- I don't think he has any ambitions or goals. I realize, we've only had one date, and a handful of emails, but he completely poo-pooed the idea of further education, said he's content to work the job he has now (which at one point, in the very same conversation, he said he hated) until whenever, and has no plans to change his living situation. "I'm living comfortably where I am now and have no plan to change it for the foreseeable future." Oh.
I'm a busy girl. Part of the reason I'm so busy is that I have LOTS of stuff I want to do! I'm getting another degree, I'm training for races, I'm fixing up my beautiful house. PB has never been on a plane and hasn't ever been out of the country. I know that this is the case for a lot of people, and a lot of those people have ambition, but he doesn't seem too bothered about it except when he talks about the places other people have been. THEN there's a realization that he hasn't done much.
He texted me right after the date. He was kind of gushing and trying a little too hard. This afternoon, I got more texts "Hey gorgeous" and "I can't wait to see you again." Not going out with PB again. I just can't. It feels like his expectations are soaring and I'm just rather "meh." I must remember that if I say I'm on the fence, what it really means is I'm just not feeling it.
209. Hideous, awful awful number. How I loathe thee.. for one, I'm feeling a lot better about myself. My clothes feel better, and today, I think they look better. My legs are tired, but strong. I'm running. I've run over 10 miles this week so far and haven't gotten to this week's long run yet. What gives??
I shouldn't focus on the number. I should focus on how I feel. I tell others this all the time, but I guess it's a case of do as I say, not as I do. Harumph. 209. I'll show you...
So, this week has been interesting in the land of interpersonal relationships. I'm getting along great with my new roommate. She's really fab, actually. Unfortunately, our cats aren't getting along. But, cats are bitches, so there's not much we can do about that. I had a talk with Sexy Ex last night.. right before I left for a first date with Parkville Baker. Long story short, after voicing my confusion to Sexy Ex, we decided it would be better to be just friends, not sexy friends, since that was a source of stress on our relationship. It made me a little sad. I got choked up while I was telling him what I want (romance, to feel special, affection, yadda yadda), and I felt sad after we talked, and then again when I went to bed last night. I actually cried a little. :( But, I want to keep his friendship and I know he can't give me what I need and want on a deeper level, so this is where we are.
Parkville Baker... we'll call him PB from now on.. well, let me just say this, guys like to lie about their height on dating sites. I don't know why they do this- it's not like we won't find out if there is an actual face-to-face meeting. But they do it, and time and again I'm left a little disappointed that our relationship started with a lie. This is particularly bad when the man in question reports himself to be rather short to begin with. I'm not tall myself- I'm not quite 5'3", but I tell the truth! And although in the past I've mostly dated and been attracted to taller guys (6' and over), I'm trying to give the shorties a chance. But damn, if you say you're 5'5" and you're shorter than I am? We have a problem. Overlooking the height issue
I'm a busy girl. Part of the reason I'm so busy is that I have LOTS of stuff I want to do! I'm getting another degree, I'm training for races, I'm fixing up my beautiful house. PB has never been on a plane and hasn't ever been out of the country. I know that this is the case for a lot of people, and a lot of those people have ambition, but he doesn't seem too bothered about it except when he talks about the places other people have been. THEN there's a realization that he hasn't done much.
He texted me right after the date. He was kind of gushing and trying a little too hard. This afternoon, I got more texts "Hey gorgeous" and "I can't wait to see you again." Not going out with PB again. I just can't. It feels like his expectations are soaring and I'm just rather "meh." I must remember that if I say I'm on the fence, what it really means is I'm just not feeling it.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Twice a week? HA! I laugh in your face, twice a week..
August 30
Twice a week? HA! I laugh in your face, twice a week.. So, it's been a while since I last blogged..
I was sick, for about a month. Pretty much right after I wrote that last post, in fact, I started feeling like something you'd want to scrape off the bottom of your shoe. It took me the better (or worse, depending on how you look at it) part of a month to get well enough to be active again.
SO, here I am! Ta-da! I'm feeling better, coughing less, and I have started my training, AGAIN. Sunday I'm due to run 8 miles. It might be more of a hobble, but by golly, I will do it! I'm eating way better. Last night I had some ladies over, and, determined to be a good influence, I fed them baked chicken, salad, and oven roasted potatoes. I didn't overeat!! We did polish off the container of Breyers I had in the freezer, but I consider it a victory that I shared it, rather than eating the entire thing myself. I have bananas, and good cereals, and almond milk, and veggies. I AM doing this!
To furtherfrustrate challenge myself, I signed up for the "Dolphin Challenge" at the Shamrock VA beach Marathon. For those of you that don't know what that is, every spring, right around St. Patty's Day, there's a Marathon weekend in VA Beach. I have been there the past three years, running my little heart out. On the Saturday, there's an 8k (4.97 miles) and on the Sunday there's a marathon (26.2 miles) and a half-marathon (13.1 miles). I have done the 8k, and the half twice. The Dolphin Challenge is doing the 8k AND the half. The Whale Challenge is doing the 8k AND the full marathon. I'm never gonna do that. I'm sure it would kill me, and I'm not ready to die yet.
Twice a week? HA! I laugh in your face, twice a week.. So, it's been a while since I last blogged..
I was sick, for about a month. Pretty much right after I wrote that last post, in fact, I started feeling like something you'd want to scrape off the bottom of your shoe. It took me the better (or worse, depending on how you look at it) part of a month to get well enough to be active again.
SO, here I am! Ta-da! I'm feeling better, coughing less, and I have started my training, AGAIN. Sunday I'm due to run 8 miles. It might be more of a hobble, but by golly, I will do it! I'm eating way better. Last night I had some ladies over, and, determined to be a good influence, I fed them baked chicken, salad, and oven roasted potatoes. I didn't overeat!! We did polish off the container of Breyers I had in the freezer, but I consider it a victory that I shared it, rather than eating the entire thing myself. I have bananas, and good cereals, and almond milk, and veggies. I AM doing this!
To further
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Bitterness is so Sexy. Come to Think of It, so is Sarcasm.
So, yesterday's post wasn't elegant. Especially the part about the person I'm no longer talking to. I can accept that. I'm bitter. I've always been a little bitter when it came to him, which should have been a clue, but clearly, I'm no detective. (where am I coming up with these corny jokes?)
So, last night, rather than work on my homework, I decided to peruse OkCupid. I don't like dating sites, and am almost always disappointed. But I try, try again. I do know people who have met their mates on one site or another; I'm not denying that they can work for some people. They just don't work for me.
Dud: My experience is girls grab on too tightly when I'm a great guy to them.
HBlue: my experience is that guys who think they're all that are full of shit. lol
Dud: What am I supposed to say? You'd be a fool to date me?
Dud: I am confident in my ability to make a girl happy.
HBlue: good. confidence is important
Dud: It just takes me much longer than that to find out if she makes me equally happy - for the long run that is.
HBlue: longer than what?
Dud: Most girls fall for me before I'm sure I'm completely into them.
Dud: That's why I like to warn them to take that part slow.
HBlue: and how long does it normally take for them?
Dud: A couple dates.
HBlue: oh. I think this should be goodbye. not sure I could take the heartbreak.
Dud: Your sarcasm is overwhelming...
HBlue: indeed. good luck to you hon. maybe you'll meet someone where the situation would be reversed. I have homework to do.
He is, truly, a gift. That is why he's still single. Too many girls clamoring to his door. Everybody wants a piece.
I went to the gym this morning, did some upper body strength training, both with dumbells and the pulley machine. Then I jogged just over 2 miles at a 4.3 pace, with 1-2 minute walking intervals every 10 minutes or so. I'm trying to work on my endurance for this half marathon. I feel like I have to conquer it this year. No excuses. I'll need to get some hill work in next time I go to the gym, and do the step mill. I'm supposed to run with my friend tonight, but I'm actually hoping it rains. I'm achey and tired. I don't think I'll be a good running buddy today, but I've crapped out on her too often, so I need Mother Nature to do the dirty work for me.
So, last night, rather than work on my homework, I decided to peruse OkCupid. I don't like dating sites, and am almost always disappointed. But I try, try again. I do know people who have met their mates on one site or another; I'm not denying that they can work for some people. They just don't work for me.
OkCupid allows instant messaging. A guy messaged me, I checked out where he lives and found it to be not TERRIBLY far away, and engaged him in conversation for several minutes. The end of the conversation went like this:
Dud: My experience is girls grab on too tightly when I'm a great guy to them.
HBlue: my experience is that guys who think they're all that are full of shit. lol
Dud: What am I supposed to say? You'd be a fool to date me?
Dud: I am confident in my ability to make a girl happy.
HBlue: good. confidence is important
Dud: It just takes me much longer than that to find out if she makes me equally happy - for the long run that is.
HBlue: longer than what?
Dud: Most girls fall for me before I'm sure I'm completely into them.
Dud: That's why I like to warn them to take that part slow.
HBlue: and how long does it normally take for them?
Dud: A couple dates.
HBlue: oh. I think this should be goodbye. not sure I could take the heartbreak.
Dud: Your sarcasm is overwhelming...
HBlue: indeed. good luck to you hon. maybe you'll meet someone where the situation would be reversed. I have homework to do.
He is, truly, a gift. That is why he's still single. Too many girls clamoring to his door. Everybody wants a piece.
I went to the gym this morning, did some upper body strength training, both with dumbells and the pulley machine. Then I jogged just over 2 miles at a 4.3 pace, with 1-2 minute walking intervals every 10 minutes or so. I'm trying to work on my endurance for this half marathon. I feel like I have to conquer it this year. No excuses. I'll need to get some hill work in next time I go to the gym, and do the step mill. I'm supposed to run with my friend tonight, but I'm actually hoping it rains. I'm achey and tired. I don't think I'll be a good running buddy today, but I've crapped out on her too often, so I need Mother Nature to do the dirty work for me.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
It's all coming back to me now
So, I tried this blogging thing, and discovered that I am neither as interesting nor as funny as I once thought.. or maybe as my mama told me I was. My mama says I'm pretty and smart too.. I hope she's not wrong about everything.
Anyway, I then fell off the face of the earth. But, being a little bored at work, I decided I should write about my life again. A lot has happened, actually. Let's see.. I bought a house on May 16, 2012. That is what I am calling my single best decision and greatest purchase to date. I absolutely LOVE my house. Sadly, since May 16, I have spent about 4 nights in my house, and several afternoons. I got a repair loan for it, since it hadn't been updated since the Partridge Family was on first-run episodes, and as anyone will tell you, contractors suck. We're almost there though. Fingers crossed. And toes, cross them too.
In the past 8 months I've also stopped talking to the guy I'm now calling the worst human being I've ever known. I cut ties to him and decided to let the girl who thinks she's been his gf while he was having a little bit of me on the side, have him. The last words from him were "have a nice life too." Well, thanks, I think I will! And actually, I HAVE been, especially since I'm no longer talking to YOU. Yeah, I'm still pissed. I'd love to give him a piece of my mind, but as I really have none to spare, I'm refraining. One day, the sting will have gone away completely and I won't even remember the bastard's name. For now, let's just call him Asshole. Good riddance, Asshole.
And, about a month after removing THAT thorn in my side, sex with an ex! BIG mistake. Ladies, don't go there. If you have any of your wits about you when that big strong man you're now "just friends" with leans towards you, smelling all manly and musky, gorgeous soft lips all a-pucker, RUN AWAY. Seriously. It'll only end in heartache when he, after calling you EVERY DAY from that moment, suddenly stops calling all together, and doesn't return any of your calls, text, or email you. Yeah. He's not that into you- he was on the rebound and feeling lonely and sorry for himself since he was laid off, and you were a warm body, convenient and willing. DON'T DO IT. It's not worth the couple of afternoons you'll spend crying at your desk when it suddenly hits you what an idiot you've been and how very lonely you really are. Trust me.
I started this blog about weight loss and my feelings and experiences since losing weight. I have gained back about 35lb. I am somewhat ashamed of myself. I know it happens often, but I was going to be one of the exceptions. I was going to be the superstar. I'm not feeling so twinkly right now. I got into a pretty bad streak of self-loathing for a while there, nearly got fired from my job, and finally snapped myself out of it.. or so I hope. I've only been doing better for about a week now. It's hard to get back on that horse, especially since I don't know how to ride, but I'm working at it. I've started running again, and lifting weights, and I have to say that I feel about a thousand times better now. The Baltimore Running Festival is my inspiration. Well, that and a few of my friends who have inspired me to kick myself in the butt and get to it already. I was starting to think it was a little ironic that I'm getting a degree in fitness, and yet I've gained back 1/3 of the weight I'd lost. Oh wow.. hadn't thought of it in those terms. Damn. I've got some work to do! One of the biggest motivators, though, is that my clothes stopped fitting. I was almost in a size 10, across the board, at my smallest. I'm in a 16 again. It's soul-crushing, really. But I'm determined, and I will do this! Sugar, convenience foods, and processed foods are my enemy. Still working on avoiding those things all together. I'll get there though.
Anyway, that's it for now. I think I've gotten it all out. Thanks for reading. I plan to do this at least twice a week now. I think it'll be good for me.
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