No blogging since June.  I have made many posts in my mind, but never put them in print.  I find my thoughts a whole lot more exciting than my writing.  Perhaps there are not any new entries because there is not any new information.  I continue to go to boot camp 2-3 (mostly 2) times a week and think about eating right, but not doing a very good job at making it consistently happen.  I haven't been on the scale in months, but that doesn't really bother me.  I know I've gained, my clothes are snug and my spare tire has grown from a small car tire to an 18 wheeler.  I have met  with dieticians, journaled, prayed, and paid for meal plans and at the end of the day I still eat like shit and eat too much.  It is really sick and I keep telling myself how much better I would feel if I would get it together.  I have heartburn, I've NEVER had heartburn.  It is clearly because of my choices in diet.  I am not sure what the next step is, except to keep on keepin' on. . . .

is boredom bad?

Wow, no post in a month. That is a bold and honest statement about the level of excitement in my life. That is OK though because sometime excitement is unwanted and I certainly am OK with low key and boring.

Fitness and health. I am doing a fitness challenge at work and a partner fitness challenge at the place I work out at. With all of these fitness challenge commitments, one would think I would be ripped with amazing strength, speed and endurance. Nope, not at all. I still am the last of the pack with any kind of running, and my form of "cement shoe steps" has wreaked havoc on my knees. I still sweat like a hooker in church for the entire duration of boot camps, and I still look frumpy in my fat lady clothes. BUT, I am regularly attending boot camp and have walked a couple of mornings with other chics in my neighborhood. I haven't gotten on a scale because I don't want to know the number. However, for the partner challenge this week, we have to run a 1/2 mile carrying a backpack that contains 15% of our current body weight. Can't freakin' wait for that. . . . nothing like cement shoeing it for a 1/2 mile while supporting the weight of a grown child on my back. Damn, sounds like so much fun I can hardly wait. It is a good thing that a fire station is a mere 4 blocks from the gym. They should be able to resuscitate me before I have lost too much oxygen to my brain and caused permanent damage.

Food remains my enemy, although I have been doing a bit better recently. I have a constant craving for cookie dough, so I am certain that I am lacking some essential nutrient in my body. I've never really been a sweets kind of girl, so this is especially odd for me. So far I have fought the urge, but I don't know how long it will last before me and a bowl of oatmeal chocolate chip cookie dough have a come to Jesus meeting, or at least a come to my mouth meeting.

I tried to change the background on my blog. don't know what he hell I am doing and that is why it looks all messed up. I don't care to mess with it anymore, so it will just stay like it is.

So, not much excitement, not much change, just a whole lot of keep on keepin' on. . . . . .

When I started this blog, I fully expected that I would either have quit blogging by now, OR, I would weigh far less than I did when I started this journey. It turns out that I was wrong on both accounts. I am still blogging, and I am still incredibly overweight. I have not gotten on a scale in a VERY long time. I used the excuse that it caused anxiety. In all reality, it caused me to realize that I am fat and that caused the anxiety.
I have joined yet another fitness challenge. This time it is at work with a group of coworkers. It officially starts Monday, the 23rd, but we had to weigh in today. OMG freakin' scale tipping numbers. I about shit my pants when I saw the number. It was NOT shitting my pants in a good way either. (I don't know when it is good to shit your pants) It was an all out, get your poop in a group and get the eating under control kind of shit my pants. I about died. It was bad. Really bad. I had foolishly convinced myself that by exercising I would prevent myself from gaining weight. It is just a damn good thing I have been exercising, or else I would have had to go to the freight elevator scale to weigh in.
I am my own worst enemy. I can convince myself of about anything bad related to food is OK. I will tell myself that it is OK to eat crappy for a day or two and then I will get back on track. The sad reality is that I have not gotten back on track. I am lying on the track and repeatedly getting run over by the carbohydrate, cheese train!
I met with a dietitian last week and talked about a plan to get back on the wagon. I should have started today, but due to my lack of planning, I had no groceries and made some crappy choices. I also convinced myself that since I will be gone every night this week that perhaps I should wait until next week to start. GRRR.
I am in a mild panic about the month of June and exercise. I have clinical 3 mornings a week and the kids have ball Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday evenings. I don't want to lose anything I may have gained from boot camp, and that is a huge fear.
SO, back on the good food choice wagon, I hope. Finding a plan for regular exercise despite the chaos of everyday life, and keepin' on keepin' on. . . .

May Day

May Day. Not the May Day of delivering baskets of candy. (Although my 5 year old was PISSED that we didn't deliver May baskets this year!) May Day in the regard of "rescue me", "help", "trouble in paradise" etc. That is what I was thinking for 3 hours and 19 minutes this morning. OK, maybe not the entire 3 hours and 19 minutes, but a good portion of it.

It was the Half Marathon here today. It was the 5th year in a row that my mom and I have done. I was dreading this day LESS than I have anytime over the past 5 years. I have been exercising regularly for 9 months and have completed 2 5K races over the past 6 weeks. It would be ok.

How FREAKING wrong I was. This was the worst I have ever felt in all 5 years. This was the only year I have ever considered quitting. It sucked. I have made several excuses for why it sucked. It sucked because the shoes I bought about 6 weeks ago were SHIT and I think I would have had less pain if I would have worn no shoes for 13.1 miles. My legs still hurt like a bitch and I don't know if I will ever walk normally again, or if I will make it through personal training on Tuesday. I just don't know anything except I don't ever think I felt this crappy after doing the half in the past.

To make the event even better, my contacts were a mess, to the point I could see nothing and eventually one fell out and I pulled the second one out and could see BETTER without them. I was still blind, but thank heavens I had a friend with me who served as my seeing eyed guide from mile 8 to the end. What a comedy of errors. . . .

I am also a bit pissed at the people who were leisurely walking the 1/2 marathon as if they were out for an afternoon stroll. No sweating, no struggle, no bad shoes, no near blindness, and they STILL finished ahead of me. They probably don't even exercise regularly and they still kicked my ass. They looked GOOD in their workout gear and they were having fun. Bitches.

I should be proud that I cut A LOT of time off from past years, so that is a testament to regular exercise. I should be proud that I jogged pretty much all of the first 5 miles. I should be proud that I have a body that is able to exercise. Shit on the shoulds.

I AM proud of my mom and sister in law for kicking that 1/2 marathon's bootie. They worked their butts off and their times showed it. I am proud that my husband and kids were at the finish line, along with my brother, niece, nephew, and dad to offer words of encouragement. I am proud that God has given me a body that can work hard and feel the pain of pushing myself as hard as I can. I do wish that God would consider giving me a little less body but that is another post. . . . .

I've also decided that the economy has hit the 1/2 and full marathon. The shirts we received were paper thin and not sized correctly at all. The crowds that are usually out to cheer us on weren't there. . . .I'm guessing they were snuggled in their warm homes (it was COLD), working their second job to cover the bills, or at church (praying for people like me, I hope). The house on South 20th street that usually always has a ginormous bowl of jelly bellies out was cleaning up when I got there. . .no jelly bellies for me. The economy must have caused them to cut back on the number of jelly bellies, or there were a lot of J-B pigs ahead of me. A lot of the water stations (except for my employer's station!!) were closing up shop by the time I got there. UMMM hell-O, walkers need support AND hydration also.

As of right now, I have done my last half marathon. My talents would be better served as a volunteer. The shirts are better and I think I would be good at motivating the walkers and the people who are at the end of the pack. I could also wear my glasses and comfy shoes and not have to make a nasty, negative post about how miserable I am.

I am not giving up, quitting, or throwing in the towel. I am going to keep on keepin' on. . .

Funkity Funk

I'm in a funk. A freakin' funkity funk. I am not sure how I got here, or how to get out, I just know I am here. It really hit me last night at boot camp. We we jogging with medicine balls that we were supposed to hold above our heads for the jog. Everyone did a great job at complying, except for me. I jogged, and I held the medicine ball. However, not for one damn step did I hold it above my head, but rather held it at my chest the entire fricking time. I didn't even try. I kept thinking of how disappointed I was in myself the entire time, but did I raise the ball even for 2 or 3 steps? Hell no. I was still dead last when running back and forth to the bridge, and felt as if I was going to die during all of the exercises. I am not ready to throw in the towel and go back to my obese way of living, but I am also no happy to have not lost any weight since December and still be working out on a regular basis. I know a lot of it is my diet. I have about as much will power with that as I did carrying the medicine ball above my head. It is my own fault, but I am sick of it. I am mad that I went for a jog this week and had to walk a few times just trying to do 2 miles. . . . did I NOT just jog an entire 3 miles? Back pedaling, damn it. So, when I think about not carrying the ball, not losing weight, not eating right, and not feeling like I have made any progress in the past 8 months, I realize where the freaking funkity funk comes from. I mentioned it to my trainer and she said that she thinks I am stronger than I think and asked if it was all mental. It probably is mental. . . mental illness! So, I know to get out of this freaking funkity funk I should keep on keepin' on. . .we'll see.

42

I have never been one to have a "favorite" number. I don't have time for it. I think it is dumb, it is a number for goodness sake. I can remember numbers fairly easily, phone numbers, addresses, dates, and of course, my WEIGHT. Again, this is a number that I don't care to remember, so I quit measuring it. I digress. . . In my last entry I wrote about signing up for a couple of 5K's and hoping I could shave off some time from previous 5K's and perhaps run/jog some of it. Two weeks ago my mom and I did a 5K together. My mom has ALWAYS kicked my ass when we do these races, including the past 4 half marathons that we have done together. She is a gunner, a competitor, a dig deep and work you ass off kind of chic. I wish I were more like her in this regard. Going into the race, I had three goals:

1. to lower my time


2. jog more than walk


3. keep up with mom

It was a crappy weather day, cool, snowing and cloudy. I was not nervous for this 5K like I have been for others. I attributed it to my attitude of "it is what it is" and the fact that I have done more consecutive exercise the past 8 months than in the past 25 years. I KNEW I wasn't out to set any major records and if I was dead last, then at least someone else wasn't! OK, so when we started, I told myself that I was going to run the first mile, even if it was at a handicapped snails pace, I was going to jog. When I got to the first mile sign, I told myself that it was ONLY a 1/2 mile to the turn around point and if I had already jogged 1 mile, I sure as hell could do another 1/2. It just kept on for me, and when I got to the turn around, I again dug deep and told myself that I only had another 1/2 mile to go and I could officially say I jogged 2 miles. Well, you can see where this is headed, when I got to the 2 mile point, there was NO FREAKING way I wasn't running the last 1.2 miles. There were more miles behind me than in front of me. . . SO, I turned up the volume on my tunes and dug deep. I miscalculated where the finish was and sped it up too soon, so I did have to walk a TINY, TINY bit, but in the end, I ran probably 3 of the 3.2 miles. I finished just SLIGHTLY ahead of my mom, I jogged MOST of it, and (drum roll please. . . .) I dropped almost 4 minutes off of my last time. I finished this race in 42:42. One minute and one second for every year I've been alive. . . not bad. Not that I'm going to start thinking that 42 is my lucky number, I still think that is bullshit, but I will be able to remember my time! :) I have gone out a couple of times since and done some jogging, and while I can do the first mile without feeling like I need to die, subsequent miles don't come as easy. I keep telling myself that I can do it and listening to my music. It sounds nutty but when I am out there jogging and I feel like I am going to die, inevitably certain songs will come on my iPod and I know that it is divine intervention giving me the push that I need to not walk. Yesterday, it was a song that I put on a slide show that I made for my Grandma's funeral. I truly felt as if Granny was there with me pushing me harder and harder and helping me to keep on keepin' on.

I am nervous for a 5K that I am doing in 2 weeks. I am nervous because there will be a lot of people I know there. I am nervous because I have been eating like a hog. I am nervous because now that I have done a 5K without much walking, I am afraid I won't be able to do it again, or at least in under 42 minutes and 42 seconds for a 42 year old fatty. I am nervous because 3 weeks after that 5K is the half and I am nervous for that because it is 13 miles and I want to REALLY knock some time off years past. I am nervous because my knee hurts all of the time. So many nerves. . .

I am still working out with Roxanne on Tuesdays. She is amazing and last week it was clear that she has crossed over to the other side of fitness. It made me realize that if I don't want to waste her time, Heidi's time, or my time, I need to kick it up a notch. I don't want to hold them back and be the slug. . . She is good motivation for me, and a good friend to have reconnected with.

I have not had a Diet Coke (or any caffeinated soda) since Lent started. I think about Diet Coke all of the time, and to hear someone open a chilled can is almost more than I can handle. I just want a sip. I must say that my water consumption has significantly grown. I am not sure if I sleep better, but perhaps. I know that when Lent is over, I will have a diet coke, but WILL NOT go back to drinking the ridiculous amount I was. I have no desire for that.

So, jogging, training, and drinking. . .water, are what I have been up to lately. I am hoping to get on the wagon and eat better to start losing weight again and in order to do that I will have to keep on keepin' on. . .

Tuesdays with Heidi...and Roxanne

I'm certain that many have read the book Tuesdays with Maury. I am one of the many that hasn't. I think it is about a guy who is dying and another guy spends Tuesdays with him and journals about it. Anyway, I have my own new Tuesday ritual. My friend that I worked with many years and many pounds ago, Roxanne, answered my plea for a tandem personal training partner and so we spend our Tuesdays working like dogs with Heidi. It is one of the best hours of my week. We work hard, sweat buckets, and feel it in our muscles for the days that follow. I love it. I am still trying to go to boot camp twice a week in addition to Tuesdays with Heidi and Roxanne. I have signed up for a couple of 5K's in addition to the half marathon. I would like to think I could run more than walk, but I am not convinced. I will settle to have a better time than the last 5K in December. . . I hope. I really would like to do significantly better in the half also, but again, it is what it is.
One battle I am still struggling with is FOOD. It is Easter season, so the Brach's jelly beans are fresher and tastier than any time of year. They are my trigger food. If I buy a bag, it is gone before I even get home. BUT, I have gone without Diet Coke, or any caffeinated pop for a week now. I still crave diet coke, but I am giving it up at least until Easter, hopefully until after the marathon. I do sleep better and have some other health benefits from no caffeine, but I miss it. I must have some kind of addiction to good food and good drink. I really would like to lose more weight, and I think I will. I am dedicated to exercise, and hopefully with the nice weather we are in store for, I will get even more active.
I have no choice but to keep on keepin' on. . . .

A Sign?

I consider myself a Christian, and I truly believe that God answer's prayers. Sometimes it takes me quite a while to recognize the answer he is giving me, because it isn't necessarily the answer I was expecting or hoping for. I talk to God a lot about my weight and ask for his help in resolving my obsession with it. I talk to him about giving me strength with eating and to also give me the strength to keep on keepin' on.
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about what to do to kick up the weight loss. I haven't gained since December when WFMH ended, but I haven't lost either. Not. A. Pound. I was feeling OK with that and trying to convince myself to be happy with who I am, after all, I am still going to boot camp twice a week, and last week I finished up my 3 sessions of personal training. I have been thinking about rejoining WFMH, meeting with the dietitian at my gym, or rejoining Weight Watchers (WW). I have been talking with God about this and asking him to point me in the right direction. Then, through the voice of my favorite 7 year old (aka my daughter) he spoke to me. As we were driving down the highway, she said, out of the blue, "Mom, have you ever thought about doing Weight Watchers On-Line?". I knew immediately that she was the messenger for what I have been praying about. I was a bit sad, I must admit, because I HATE to count points and journal what I eat, but I HATE being fat more, so I think that this weekend, I will log on, sign up, and start my journey.
I am NOT giving up the exercise. I did not go to boot camp at all this week, and I totally am having guilt about it. I know that when I go Monday night, I will feel my week off. I did "wog" on Sunday and Monday, and felt pretty good about the fact that I jogged more than walked, but also wonder what my neighbors who drove by as I was "jogging" must have thought. I have no form, and occasionally find myself singing out loud to whatever song is on the iPod at the time! (Current favorite is Eric Church's "Smoke a little smoke"). I don't care what they thought, (ok, maybe a little), but still wonder? I am hoping to find someone in the next week to sign up and purchase some tandem personal training with me at the gym, but haven't had luck so far. The three sessions that I did 1:1 were FABULOUS and I truly loved every minute of it. There was no slacking and it was all about making me stronger and healthier. I know it is expensive, but so is being in the hospital from complications related to not working out. I keep trying to convince my husband that it would be a great thing for us to do, but he keeps looking at the $$ and ignoring me. He tried to convince me to do the Wii or the Xbox, and while in theory that sounds good, I am not disciplined enough. If I am not committed to someone, I won't do it. I do not have enough willpower to get it done on my own. I have great intentions but pathetic follow through.
So, I guess in order to keep on keepin' on, I will log on and sign up. After all, how can I ignore a direct communication from the man upstairs, or at least the cutest and smartest 7 year old I know! ;)

Love and Hate

I have a love hate relationship with food.  I hate that I love it so much.  I hate that I love to think about it, read about it, taste it, cook it, bake it, and watch about it on TV.  I hate that I don't have that same love for exercise.  I hate that I have minimal interest in rejoining weight watchers for the 293,349 time.  I hate that I haven't lost any weight since WFMH ended. I hate that I wake up thinking about food and my weight and have the same cravings and thoughts until I go to bed.  I hate that I am using the word hate so much.

I love that I have maintained my going to boot camp at least twice a week since WFMH ended.  Granted it has been difficult these past couple of weeks, mainly because of the weather.  I love how I feel after boot camp is over.  I love that Brady bought me 3 personal training sessions at Body Innovations and I get 1:1 time for an hour.  I love that tomorrow I am going to have boxing and "heavy" weight training.  I love that I haven't gained weight since WFMH ended.  I love that I feel guilty when I don't go to boot camp.  I love that Brady is going to boot camp also and clearly sees the benefit of it. . . makes my support that much easier. I love that I am trying to set good examples for my kids in terms of exercising.  I love that my love list is longer than my hate list. 

So, I will continue to work on decreasing my hates and increasing my loves.  I will keep on keepin' on. . . I love the way that sounds.

A new year

2011.  The first year in as long as I can remember that I didn't start the New Year out with the resolution to lose weight and start exercising.  Both are still very much resolutions, but I had a jump on the new year and had already started.  So, while it was a comfort to already be "on the wagon", I have found myself under the wagon a few times and having a hard time getting out from under it.  I have maintained my exercise routine but the eating battle continues.  I can't stand it.  I think about food from the moment I wake up until the minute I go to bed, and sometimes when I wake up at night.  I think about what I would like to eat, what I would like to cook, what is healthy, what is not, what I have eaten so far in a day, what I wish I wouldn't have eaten, and so on.  It is one of the many things that consume me.  EVERY night I find myself praying for the strength to make better choices the next day and sometimes I do and sometimes the wagon runs over me. . . again.  I did so well during WFMH because I felt accountable and I felt competitive and I knew that every single Monday night I would have to get on the scale and answer for my actions.  Now, I don't have that accountability and it is catching up to me.  I think I have gained 3-5 pounds and that stresses me out.  I have looked online at Spark People and have considered rejoining WW.  I am also beating myself up for not rejoining WFMH.  While I hated the Monday night meetings, I loved the group workouts and I loved the camaraderie.  Don't look back.  I still enjoy boot camp, but I wish I was making more progress.  I tell myself that I am going to work as hard as I possibly can for that hour to maximize my participation, but I am still a weaker link.  SO, what does this mean?  As much as I would like to think I am not competitive, I guess I really am.  The competition with myself is not enough.  I need to compete with a team.  I am going to have to learn to be satisfied with myself as competition because I cannot spend the rest of my life paying for competition to maintain control with my eating.  I hope that I can spend the rest of my life exercising and being active.  I registered for the 1/2 marathon in hopes of decreasing my time, but probably not going to be able to run, but I pray that with routine exercise I will have more endurance and stamina.
I have been having some rough days for many reasons.  However, my brother put things in great perspective for me today on his Facebook and reminded me that no matter what kind of bad place we think we are in, there is ALWAYS someone else who is in a worse place and we (I) need to suck it up and be grateful for my situation.  He is right, I have so much to be grateful for and have been truly blessed.  SO, I can continue to have stress and anxiety about my situation, or I can keep on keepin' on. . . .