Thursday, July 28, 2011
Do the Hustle!
I need a workout that allows me to do this for an hour every morning before work. I heard this on Pandora on my way to work, and got inspired! Happy Pre-Friday!
The Last Supper
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| Going out with a Bang |
Birthday dinner was inhaled at my favorite Italian restaurant. C. was there, looking like he was a witness to a crime. Actually he was, because I murdered that meal.
There was pasta, there were drinks, and there was bread.
Then, I had to get up at 5:10 am this morning to get to my bootcamp at 5:30.
Do I have a harder time than ever waking up in the morning after having two drinks the night before because of my age, or is this, too, attached to my physical condition? Whatever the case, the alarm clock sounding at 5:10 felt like a cruel joke at my expense, and it made me feel that maybe those bellinis the night before were a mistake.
Still, I rolled out of bed, threw on the workout clothes that I had laid out the night before, and got my tired mound of flesh to bootcamp.
I've been bootcamping now for 2 years, off and on. I suppose that this is another relationship that I have enjoyed, but never really allowed myself to fully commit. I love my trainer, and I love that she works us hard--a challenging mix of cardio, weights, and anything else she throws at us. It is just another thing that has easily in the past been pushed aside to accommodate other, less important things. I've been monetarily paying for this camp for the past 2 years, but I am just now physically paying for not giving it my all during that same period of time.
Today, I set my sights on the next birthday, and somehow it seemed very easy.
I always felt that I was going to camp to get fit. What I learned today, though, is that maybe I would have been more committed to my fitness before, if I actually had a goal set as well as a target date to achieve that goal. What I've been doing for the past two years at camp is basically hanging out with a group of chicks, working out, and going home and not thinking much of it past that--kind of like going to a bar with your girlfiends, only healthier. Going there this morning, focused on what I want to do, and when I want to have it done made for a very inspired workout, and set the tone for the rest of the day.
Day one was a success. I know that I was boosted by the excitement of starting this project, but it was encouraging to know that I could make it through a day when I felt that every decision that I made was a good one, I fit in my exercise as I promised myself, and it actually felt easy.
Day one was a success. I know that I was boosted by the excitement of starting this project, but it was encouraging to know that I could make it through a day when I felt that every decision that I made was a good one, I fit in my exercise as I promised myself, and it actually felt easy.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
How Did I Get Here?
I will lose 30 lbs by the time I turn 40.
That day arrives 365 days from today.
Every July, I schedule doctor and dental appointments to coincide with my birthday, July 26th. The dental appointment was great—passed through there with flying colors, no cavities, no gum disease. I received so much fanfare from the dental assistant, I thought that she would take a picture of me holding my free toothbrush with a wide grin on my face, and hang it on the wall, the way that my kids’ pediatric dentist does when they have no cavities. No, all I got was a “Good job,” and “Let’s schedule you for a whitening appointment,” which I made sure to schedule for this week, after any birthday celebrations, so as not to stain my pearly whites with red wine and tomato sauce.
Well, my doctor’s appointment was going well until I stepped on the scale. 169. 169 lbs. I am 5’4”! 169. That is 18 lbs more than I weighed the previous year for my birthday appointment, and more than I weighed for either of my pregnancies. That is what was playing over and over again in my mind throughout my appointment. I didn’t care that my blood pressure was back to normal after being sent sky high by a stressful work situation. I didn’t care that everything else health-wise looked great. I didn’t even care that I was about to fill 2 gallons (in my mind) or 4 vials (in reality) full of my blood to complete my usual battery of tests. All I could think about was that I was fat.
Gosh, the weight gain was so extreme, that one of the tests is a check of my thyroid function.
Following the appointment, I decided to meet up with C., a.k.a. the main squeeze, for some lunch. On the way to his house, I told him about how the appointment went, and I could sense some trepidation on his side as to how he was going to deal with the chubby basketcase that was about to show up on his doorstep.
Once I arrived to C’s house, I hopped out of my car, expecting a hug and a “Don’t worry, babe, you look fantastic,” but instead I got, “What’s up, Large Marge?!” He chose option A when he should have chosen anything B through E.
Needless to say, this was not C’s most brilliant moment, but he thought better of his words when we arrived to the restaurant, and I stood there teary-eyed, trying to order the lightest thing on the menu. He tried his best to order light food, too.
He was trying, I guess.
After dedicating two years of my life to off and on “stuff” with him, this was very much another straw that was taxing the back of the proverbial camel that was our relationship. My being stressed and teary-eyed was beginning to be a cornerstone of our liaison, and it left me feeling as if I wanted more for myself--not necessarily where he was concerned, but for my mental and physical well-being.
It has become painfully clear that I need to refocus and direct my energies towards those things that will make me healthy and happy.
So, here I am.
39 years old.
July 26, 2011
169 lbs…and losing…slowly, but surely, and losing in the right way...to get to...
139 lbs by July 26, 2012...
I’m losing this 30 lbs and regaining my swagger ('cause it got jacked!) by making myself a few promises, all things that I have promised myself before, but I habitually break:
That day arrives 365 days from today.
Every July, I schedule doctor and dental appointments to coincide with my birthday, July 26th. The dental appointment was great—passed through there with flying colors, no cavities, no gum disease. I received so much fanfare from the dental assistant, I thought that she would take a picture of me holding my free toothbrush with a wide grin on my face, and hang it on the wall, the way that my kids’ pediatric dentist does when they have no cavities. No, all I got was a “Good job,” and “Let’s schedule you for a whitening appointment,” which I made sure to schedule for this week, after any birthday celebrations, so as not to stain my pearly whites with red wine and tomato sauce.
Well, my doctor’s appointment was going well until I stepped on the scale. 169. 169 lbs. I am 5’4”! 169. That is 18 lbs more than I weighed the previous year for my birthday appointment, and more than I weighed for either of my pregnancies. That is what was playing over and over again in my mind throughout my appointment. I didn’t care that my blood pressure was back to normal after being sent sky high by a stressful work situation. I didn’t care that everything else health-wise looked great. I didn’t even care that I was about to fill 2 gallons (in my mind) or 4 vials (in reality) full of my blood to complete my usual battery of tests. All I could think about was that I was fat.
Gosh, the weight gain was so extreme, that one of the tests is a check of my thyroid function.
Following the appointment, I decided to meet up with C., a.k.a. the main squeeze, for some lunch. On the way to his house, I told him about how the appointment went, and I could sense some trepidation on his side as to how he was going to deal with the chubby basketcase that was about to show up on his doorstep.
Once I arrived to C’s house, I hopped out of my car, expecting a hug and a “Don’t worry, babe, you look fantastic,” but instead I got, “What’s up, Large Marge?!” He chose option A when he should have chosen anything B through E.
Needless to say, this was not C’s most brilliant moment, but he thought better of his words when we arrived to the restaurant, and I stood there teary-eyed, trying to order the lightest thing on the menu. He tried his best to order light food, too.
He was trying, I guess.
After dedicating two years of my life to off and on “stuff” with him, this was very much another straw that was taxing the back of the proverbial camel that was our relationship. My being stressed and teary-eyed was beginning to be a cornerstone of our liaison, and it left me feeling as if I wanted more for myself--not necessarily where he was concerned, but for my mental and physical well-being.
It has become painfully clear that I need to refocus and direct my energies towards those things that will make me healthy and happy.
So, here I am.
39 years old.
July 26, 2011
169 lbs…and losing…slowly, but surely, and losing in the right way...to get to...
139 lbs by July 26, 2012...
I’m losing this 30 lbs and regaining my swagger ('cause it got jacked!) by making myself a few promises, all things that I have promised myself before, but I habitually break:
- No less than 45 minutes of fitness, working out, movement every day. EVERY SINGLE DAY. This is MY time.
- Make better food choices. Drink more water than wine.
- Seek support and be supportive, and be closest to those who are like-minded.
- Be more active with my sporty kids.
- Be selfish. Don’t let anything get in the way of my goal.
- Be honest and accountable about my progress or lack thereof.
- No excuses.
- Learn to like myself, or as my friend just said to me, “Give yourself a break, will you?”
- Have faith.
- Blog it! This is the scariest thing of all.
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