Monday, May 16, 2011

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. . . .

Sunday, May 1, 2011

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. . .