Weight: 388.8
In case of a water landing, y'all might want to hang on, cause I'm gonna bloat up and just float along! I know a lot of is water, but I'm ok w/ that. As long as the weight is down, that's what matters. It seems like if I eat anything other than salads and small amounts of lean meats, I just bloat right up. Ugh! I suppose it's a good thing I like eating green things! As for the holidays, I've been doing really well so far - very few extra treats, etc. We're going out for our usual Chinese food, so I'll be a lot better off than at Thanksgiving with all those delicious fattening leftovers! LOL!
It's amazing what stress will do when it comes to losing weight. I used to be a stress eater - if something was up, grab a shovel and fork folks! Now though, I just have no desire for food. I know it's to do with dealing with the holidays, mom's cancer, etc. So this past week, although I haven't been going to the gym, I'm still down 5lbs. Damn!
I haven't gotten much of anything done today, although I did make it back to the gym and it felt great to take all that tension out on the treadmill. I've also been cutting back the intensity of the workouts, so I'm gonna track it for the next week or so and see if there continues to be improvements with dropping more pounds. I will say, I'm feeling a lot better physically since taking a little break. I think the overdoing it might have been what was holding me back.
Even though this is turning into the most difficult times in my life, I'm still determined to make a change. Not just for myself but because it's what mom wants me to do.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Two Steps forward, one step back....
Current Weight: 393
Les Sigh.
So I've lost a little more and got down to 392. However, in the last week and a half, I gained back 1. Now, to be honest, my diet hasn't really changed (although the last 2 days have been pretty bad), and I think some of it may be water retention. That being said, I also know I've missed quite a few work outs (compared to my 6 day/wk I was doing). No, I'm not slacking, but it's because we found out my mom has terminal cancer. Super sucky, and I needed to just spend some time at home being a basket case. I'm back on track now though, still going every day that I'm able.
I know it's totally irrational, but I'm feeling a little disappointed with gaining back that pound. Yes, it's just a pound, and overall I'm still down 11lbs from where I was. But with all the stress of everything going on with the family, it's a like just one more thing to make me want to say fuck-it and give up. It would be SO easy to just go back to the way things were. I guess this qualifies as one of those times where I've got to push through the mental challenge and keep the big picture in perspective. There's a part of me that's also wondering if maybe I've been over-exercising. I've been increasing my time in the aerobic heart rate zone on the treadmill & elliptical, but I'm also noticing that I'm not sweating as much (yes, I'm staying hydrated), and I'm feeling completely exhausted after my work outs. I think I'm going to try cutting back on the intensity of the workouts, and see what happens.
I've also been craving protein. And nothing else. It's like my body is saying "GIVE ME MEAT! NOW!" And nothing else seems to satisfy - not even sweets! I know Sean "The Hottie" trainer warned me about my appetite increasing, but honestly, it hasn't increased as much as it's been only wanting protein. Meat protein. Beans, legumes, tofu are SO not cutting it! And screw that crap about nuts. Mamma wants some steak, chicken, ribs...oh damn...now I'm hungry!
Les Sigh.
So I've lost a little more and got down to 392. However, in the last week and a half, I gained back 1. Now, to be honest, my diet hasn't really changed (although the last 2 days have been pretty bad), and I think some of it may be water retention. That being said, I also know I've missed quite a few work outs (compared to my 6 day/wk I was doing). No, I'm not slacking, but it's because we found out my mom has terminal cancer. Super sucky, and I needed to just spend some time at home being a basket case. I'm back on track now though, still going every day that I'm able.
I know it's totally irrational, but I'm feeling a little disappointed with gaining back that pound. Yes, it's just a pound, and overall I'm still down 11lbs from where I was. But with all the stress of everything going on with the family, it's a like just one more thing to make me want to say fuck-it and give up. It would be SO easy to just go back to the way things were. I guess this qualifies as one of those times where I've got to push through the mental challenge and keep the big picture in perspective. There's a part of me that's also wondering if maybe I've been over-exercising. I've been increasing my time in the aerobic heart rate zone on the treadmill & elliptical, but I'm also noticing that I'm not sweating as much (yes, I'm staying hydrated), and I'm feeling completely exhausted after my work outs. I think I'm going to try cutting back on the intensity of the workouts, and see what happens.
I've also been craving protein. And nothing else. It's like my body is saying "GIVE ME MEAT! NOW!" And nothing else seems to satisfy - not even sweets! I know Sean "The Hottie" trainer warned me about my appetite increasing, but honestly, it hasn't increased as much as it's been only wanting protein. Meat protein. Beans, legumes, tofu are SO not cutting it! And screw that crap about nuts. Mamma wants some steak, chicken, ribs...oh damn...now I'm hungry!
Monday, December 5, 2011
The history of the T-Rex arms
All my life I've felt strong. I've always felt like I can take on the world, damn all the odds. I could climb mountains, ford streams, change my name to Maria and sing my way through the Alps. Then I met Sean "The Hottie" Trainer.
I knew I was out of shape, but didn't think it was that bad. My first workout with him proved just how wrong I was! It started with some standing push ups and pull ups. Simple, right? Then came the step up/down on stacked weights (think mambo steps minus the hip action). Easy peasy. Then back to the push/pull ups for 3 reps. "Bring it on!" I thought. Not even halfway through the first rep I was nauseated and ready to stop. My brain kicked in like a horse balking a jump. My heels wanted to dig in and tell Sean "The Hottie" Trainer where he could put his no-hip-action mambo moves. My mouth watered. My stomach churned. But I'll be damned if I was gonna give up (and waste my hard earned pesos!!)
Post workout, I felt good. I'd sweated, I survived my session, and left feeling like I could actually make it. The next day I longed to have the joys of the ease of movement and confidence I had mere hours before. It started before my eyes even opened when I reached over to turn off the alarm. My eyes flew open, and somehow my lungs managed to expand enough to gasp in a whoosh of air, as a hot searing flash of mind numbing, paralyzing pain rocketed from my biceps to my brain in 0.00001 seconds. It was like Hermione Granger had hit me with a stupify spell. I now understood on a deep visceral level what Luke Skywalker felt when Emperor Palpatine hit him with the lightening fingers. Ever so gingerly, I reached again for the alarm clock, only to have a repeat of the same god awful fire burning through my limbs. With as little arm movement as possible, I rolled to my side and was able to get the alarm turned off (without squashing my cat) and then laid quietly in bed, pondering the wisdom of my choice to work with a trainer.
And so, the T-Rex arms were born.
Day 2 was even worse than day 1 (as everyone warned/predicted it would be.), and in only using my forearms I found a renewed respect for the mighty dinosaur (how DID they feed themselves!!?!?)
Eventually my arms were recovered, just in time to have my next training session. In total, it took 4 days for me to be able to fully straighten my arms out, and another 2 to feel like I could bear any weight with them. And you know what? I wouldn't trade a second of it! It was like a baptism of fire into my new world of exercise.*
* Thankfully and mercifully that was the worst of it (so far). Every workout and session since then has been glorious - even when I'm feeling grumpy, bloaty, and tired!
I knew I was out of shape, but didn't think it was that bad. My first workout with him proved just how wrong I was! It started with some standing push ups and pull ups. Simple, right? Then came the step up/down on stacked weights (think mambo steps minus the hip action). Easy peasy. Then back to the push/pull ups for 3 reps. "Bring it on!" I thought. Not even halfway through the first rep I was nauseated and ready to stop. My brain kicked in like a horse balking a jump. My heels wanted to dig in and tell Sean "The Hottie" Trainer where he could put his no-hip-action mambo moves. My mouth watered. My stomach churned. But I'll be damned if I was gonna give up (and waste my hard earned pesos!!)
Post workout, I felt good. I'd sweated, I survived my session, and left feeling like I could actually make it. The next day I longed to have the joys of the ease of movement and confidence I had mere hours before. It started before my eyes even opened when I reached over to turn off the alarm. My eyes flew open, and somehow my lungs managed to expand enough to gasp in a whoosh of air, as a hot searing flash of mind numbing, paralyzing pain rocketed from my biceps to my brain in 0.00001 seconds. It was like Hermione Granger had hit me with a stupify spell. I now understood on a deep visceral level what Luke Skywalker felt when Emperor Palpatine hit him with the lightening fingers. Ever so gingerly, I reached again for the alarm clock, only to have a repeat of the same god awful fire burning through my limbs. With as little arm movement as possible, I rolled to my side and was able to get the alarm turned off (without squashing my cat) and then laid quietly in bed, pondering the wisdom of my choice to work with a trainer.
And so, the T-Rex arms were born.
Day 2 was even worse than day 1 (as everyone warned/predicted it would be.), and in only using my forearms I found a renewed respect for the mighty dinosaur (how DID they feed themselves!!?!?)
Eventually my arms were recovered, just in time to have my next training session. In total, it took 4 days for me to be able to fully straighten my arms out, and another 2 to feel like I could bear any weight with them. And you know what? I wouldn't trade a second of it! It was like a baptism of fire into my new world of exercise.*
* Thankfully and mercifully that was the worst of it (so far). Every workout and session since then has been glorious - even when I'm feeling grumpy, bloaty, and tired!
The Belly
This post was inspired by the Real Girl Belly Project: http://www.xojane.com/fun/gallery/bellies-part-2
My belly and I have a love-to-hate relationship, which has only grown since the addition of my cancer scars. To be brutally honest, of everything on my body, my belly is the part I least like. It represents my history of overeating, rejection, and how much I don't look like a supermodel. Sometimes I imagine how wonderful it would be to have my belly totally chopped off - even if it meant the rest of me would look ridiculously disproportionate. Of course, that's never going to happen, but it still even prompted me to joke with my oncologist that he should just liposuction a few lbs off while he was busy taking out my uterus.
Now, all that gloom and doom aside, there is also a part of me that accepts my belly. It is what it is. Every stretch mark, scar, hair, bump and divot tells the story of my life. I sometimes find myself just rubbing it, enjoying my soft smooth skin (and really, it's wonderfully soft and smooth). My cancer scars, while not totally disfiguring, remind me that I am strong, that I am a survivor. When I sing, I feel my belly rise up and harden, supporting the sound of the music.
I know that the longer I continue with my exercising, my belly is going to change. I am scared of losing all this fat, and being stuck with sagging, wrinkly skin. To be honest, I think I'd almost be fat. LOL! I know, it's bizarre. In any case, part of the path I've chosen means that I must accept myself and the changes that are to come. If feeling strong, getting healthy and feeling better about myself means I have saggy skin, so be it.
My belly and I have a love-to-hate relationship, which has only grown since the addition of my cancer scars. To be brutally honest, of everything on my body, my belly is the part I least like. It represents my history of overeating, rejection, and how much I don't look like a supermodel. Sometimes I imagine how wonderful it would be to have my belly totally chopped off - even if it meant the rest of me would look ridiculously disproportionate. Of course, that's never going to happen, but it still even prompted me to joke with my oncologist that he should just liposuction a few lbs off while he was busy taking out my uterus.
Now, all that gloom and doom aside, there is also a part of me that accepts my belly. It is what it is. Every stretch mark, scar, hair, bump and divot tells the story of my life. I sometimes find myself just rubbing it, enjoying my soft smooth skin (and really, it's wonderfully soft and smooth). My cancer scars, while not totally disfiguring, remind me that I am strong, that I am a survivor. When I sing, I feel my belly rise up and harden, supporting the sound of the music.
I know that the longer I continue with my exercising, my belly is going to change. I am scared of losing all this fat, and being stuck with sagging, wrinkly skin. To be honest, I think I'd almost be fat. LOL! I know, it's bizarre. In any case, part of the path I've chosen means that I must accept myself and the changes that are to come. If feeling strong, getting healthy and feeling better about myself means I have saggy skin, so be it.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Gym People
One thing I really like about my gym is that there's normal people. Ok, for the most part it's normal people. I see the little grandmas, the middle aged folks, pretty much all shapes and sizes at all ability levels. Today I even saw an old man with a walker, and a lady in a wheelchair. Honestly, that's what made me pick my gym - I was not about to join somewhere that has a bunch 'roid monkeys grunting and heaving all over. I also didn't want to go to someplace where the women are running around with spandex camel toes and a full face of make-up. I'm there to sweat. A lot. Without feeling like I'm being stared at or made fun of for all my heaving red-faced efforts.
Now all that being said, there's always the odd ducks that just don't quite fit. During my second workout with Sean "the Hottie" Trainer, Hitler Moustache Man made an appearance. Picture an older white guy, say, late 50's/early 60's, with big bushy Einstein hair and a full on Hitler moustache. Seriously. Did he not get the memo that Hitler ruined that look for all time? It was surreal. How can I focus on chest presses when a freakin nazi 'stache is staring at me in all it's hairy horror!
Today's gym person of the day was Anorexic Annie. Now, I'm that LAST person who has any business making any kind of judgments about a person's physical appearance. But this poor girl was completely emaciated. I don't mean in the healthy but lean way, like a ballet dancer. I mean in the starving Somali kind of way. She was attempting various strange exercises on the floor, including doing a handstand while watching herself in the mirror and waving her legs around. And yes, her shirt had flopped down so her belly was exposed. I wanted to feed the poor girl. Spending time at the gym, you see all body types, including the unhealthy ones, and her face just said she was tired, stressed and dealing with a lot of anxiety issues.
But it gave me pause to think and reflect for a moment on the impossible body standards our society puts on people, women in particular. It's both a blessing and a curse to live in a country where we have so much, and yet are so dysfunctional with food. We have such riches, with other parts of the world are starving, yet women here are starving themselves, vomiting and dying to get the emaciate waif look. Ironically, studies have shown that men prefer women with a little meat to them...not the super thin look-like-a-prepubescent-boy look.
I know I'll never be one of the super skinny girls, but I feel really good in knowing that I'm on my way to a smaller Grace, however she may end up looking. My struggle right now is to keep in mind that the fat didn't come on overnight, and it's not gonna go away overnight. I also have to remind myself that it doesn't matter that I can't go as fast or as hard as other people, but that I'm challenging myself and breaking barriers every time I go to the gym, which is more important. It's no longer in the world of "I'm gonna". I'm now in the world of "I am". And you know what? It feels damned good!
Now all that being said, there's always the odd ducks that just don't quite fit. During my second workout with Sean "the Hottie" Trainer, Hitler Moustache Man made an appearance. Picture an older white guy, say, late 50's/early 60's, with big bushy Einstein hair and a full on Hitler moustache. Seriously. Did he not get the memo that Hitler ruined that look for all time? It was surreal. How can I focus on chest presses when a freakin nazi 'stache is staring at me in all it's hairy horror!
Today's gym person of the day was Anorexic Annie. Now, I'm that LAST person who has any business making any kind of judgments about a person's physical appearance. But this poor girl was completely emaciated. I don't mean in the healthy but lean way, like a ballet dancer. I mean in the starving Somali kind of way. She was attempting various strange exercises on the floor, including doing a handstand while watching herself in the mirror and waving her legs around. And yes, her shirt had flopped down so her belly was exposed. I wanted to feed the poor girl. Spending time at the gym, you see all body types, including the unhealthy ones, and her face just said she was tired, stressed and dealing with a lot of anxiety issues.
But it gave me pause to think and reflect for a moment on the impossible body standards our society puts on people, women in particular. It's both a blessing and a curse to live in a country where we have so much, and yet are so dysfunctional with food. We have such riches, with other parts of the world are starving, yet women here are starving themselves, vomiting and dying to get the emaciate waif look. Ironically, studies have shown that men prefer women with a little meat to them...not the super thin look-like-a-prepubescent-boy look.
I know I'll never be one of the super skinny girls, but I feel really good in knowing that I'm on my way to a smaller Grace, however she may end up looking. My struggle right now is to keep in mind that the fat didn't come on overnight, and it's not gonna go away overnight. I also have to remind myself that it doesn't matter that I can't go as fast or as hard as other people, but that I'm challenging myself and breaking barriers every time I go to the gym, which is more important. It's no longer in the world of "I'm gonna". I'm now in the world of "I am". And you know what? It feels damned good!
Friday, November 25, 2011
Exercise really DOES work!
Weight (as of 11/21/11): 396
Total weight loss: 9lbs
I don't know who this new person is, but I LIKE her! From somewhere deep inside of me, I have made a full, 100% commitment to myself, and to getting healthy. I'm still going to the gym 6 days per week, and logging many miles on the good ol' treadmill. I think there's a big part of me that's afraid of sliding back. It would be SO easy to stop going, or just skip a day her, skip a day there. But then I tell myself, it's getting even a little bit lax on myself, especially at the beginning, is what's going to keep me fat. Yes, there are days when I'm tired, and want nothing more than to veg on the couch. If I let myself get too hungry and I'm out and about, I almost find myself with a compulsive urge to pull in to a fast food place, for "just a little bite" (which ALWAYS ends up being at least 600 calories or more!)
Tuesday I was too busy to make it to the gym, and by the time I made it home, I was legit exhausted from a full day of shopping and prepping for Thanksgiving. I found myself feeling guilty for not going, because I've made this such a priority for my life. I found myself slipping back into the old moods, old ways of thinking. I almost felt like the endorphins that have had me feeling SO good were wearing off. Wednesday, I felt sluggish again, and found myself making excuses to avoid getting exercise. But you know, in the end I went. Not only did I go, I kept to my routine of a full hour, and double the intensity. Yes, I was dead exhausted and probably over did it a bit. On the other hand, I felt AMAZING! My mood was back up and those endorphins, those GLORIOUS endorphins!
Now, I'll be the first to admit that today I TOTALLY blew my diet (which isn't anything concrete really, mostly just reading labels, watching portions and doing some rough calorie counting/exchanging). Yes, it's Thanksgiving, and yes I did go to the gym this morning (only for half my workout), but still - the calorie and salt intake is well outside my norm. And man am I feeling it!
So tomorrow I'm back on track - no matter how many yummy leftovers there are in my fridge! LOL!
Total weight loss: 9lbs
I don't know who this new person is, but I LIKE her! From somewhere deep inside of me, I have made a full, 100% commitment to myself, and to getting healthy. I'm still going to the gym 6 days per week, and logging many miles on the good ol' treadmill. I think there's a big part of me that's afraid of sliding back. It would be SO easy to stop going, or just skip a day her, skip a day there. But then I tell myself, it's getting even a little bit lax on myself, especially at the beginning, is what's going to keep me fat. Yes, there are days when I'm tired, and want nothing more than to veg on the couch. If I let myself get too hungry and I'm out and about, I almost find myself with a compulsive urge to pull in to a fast food place, for "just a little bite" (which ALWAYS ends up being at least 600 calories or more!)
Tuesday I was too busy to make it to the gym, and by the time I made it home, I was legit exhausted from a full day of shopping and prepping for Thanksgiving. I found myself feeling guilty for not going, because I've made this such a priority for my life. I found myself slipping back into the old moods, old ways of thinking. I almost felt like the endorphins that have had me feeling SO good were wearing off. Wednesday, I felt sluggish again, and found myself making excuses to avoid getting exercise. But you know, in the end I went. Not only did I go, I kept to my routine of a full hour, and double the intensity. Yes, I was dead exhausted and probably over did it a bit. On the other hand, I felt AMAZING! My mood was back up and those endorphins, those GLORIOUS endorphins!
Now, I'll be the first to admit that today I TOTALLY blew my diet (which isn't anything concrete really, mostly just reading labels, watching portions and doing some rough calorie counting/exchanging). Yes, it's Thanksgiving, and yes I did go to the gym this morning (only for half my workout), but still - the calorie and salt intake is well outside my norm. And man am I feeling it!
So tomorrow I'm back on track - no matter how many yummy leftovers there are in my fridge! LOL!
Monday, November 14, 2011
The journey of a thousand pounds begins with one cheeseburger
Well, here goes nothing. I'm about to violate one of the most sacred rules of being a fat lady. I'm going to publicly admit to my weight to the universe (stop sniggering.)
You may be asking yourself why I'm doing this. The fact is, I've been big my entire adult life, and most of my childhood as well. I've always been a relatively active person, and never felt like my weight held me back. The major glaring exception is that it's ridiculously difficult to date a normal guy when you're not hwp. Seriously. I cannot tell you how many freaks, losers, fetishists, etc. I've managed to pick up along the way. But more on that later....
As those who know me already know, I am not one to commit to things easily. But the one thing I am making a promise to do is to face this journey with honesty and the honesty must come from the beginning. It's already been uncomfortable, and I expect that there will be tears, laughter (especially when my trainer starts trying to get me to do crazy bendy shit), and at the end of the day I'm going to go to bed in a sweat-stink exhaustion knowing I did my best to realize my dreams.
Ok, so now you may be asking how I plan to go about all of this hope-y changin'? Well, 2 weeks ago I joined my local 24-hour fitness and started with a trainer. I figure if I can put myself in permanent debt with student loans to improve my mind, I need to be willing to make some kind of $$ investment in my body (in a healthy way).
To answer the original question, I am doing this because I want to live. Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer, which, in my case, was mostly likely brought on by my weight. I absolutely regret not taking better care of my body when I was younger. At the same time, I can't live my life with regret. There's only forward movement in life. Like stagnant water, a life stood still just festers and grows stinky stuff. So here goes nothin'!
The Agenda: become half the weight I am today in the next year to year and a half.
The Action Plan: sweat. a lot. everyday.
And now, what you've all been waiting for *dramatic pause*
*drum roll*
...
*drum roll*
........
*big breath in*
....................
*more drum roll (including soft cymbals and maracas)*
................................................
My current weight (ok, current as of a week ago when I was weighed at the gym).....405lbs. (Jesus H. Christ. Where the fuck did it all come from!?!?)
*runs and hides in the corner*
Now to muster the courage to link this to my FaceBook....
You may be asking yourself why I'm doing this. The fact is, I've been big my entire adult life, and most of my childhood as well. I've always been a relatively active person, and never felt like my weight held me back. The major glaring exception is that it's ridiculously difficult to date a normal guy when you're not hwp. Seriously. I cannot tell you how many freaks, losers, fetishists, etc. I've managed to pick up along the way. But more on that later....
As those who know me already know, I am not one to commit to things easily. But the one thing I am making a promise to do is to face this journey with honesty and the honesty must come from the beginning. It's already been uncomfortable, and I expect that there will be tears, laughter (especially when my trainer starts trying to get me to do crazy bendy shit), and at the end of the day I'm going to go to bed in a sweat-stink exhaustion knowing I did my best to realize my dreams.
Ok, so now you may be asking how I plan to go about all of this hope-y changin'? Well, 2 weeks ago I joined my local 24-hour fitness and started with a trainer. I figure if I can put myself in permanent debt with student loans to improve my mind, I need to be willing to make some kind of $$ investment in my body (in a healthy way).
To answer the original question, I am doing this because I want to live. Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer, which, in my case, was mostly likely brought on by my weight. I absolutely regret not taking better care of my body when I was younger. At the same time, I can't live my life with regret. There's only forward movement in life. Like stagnant water, a life stood still just festers and grows stinky stuff. So here goes nothin'!
The Agenda: become half the weight I am today in the next year to year and a half.
The Action Plan: sweat. a lot. everyday.
And now, what you've all been waiting for *dramatic pause*
*drum roll*
...
*drum roll*
........
*big breath in*
....................
*more drum roll (including soft cymbals and maracas)*
................................................
My current weight (ok, current as of a week ago when I was weighed at the gym).....405lbs. (Jesus H. Christ. Where the fuck did it all come from!?!?)
*runs and hides in the corner*
Now to muster the courage to link this to my FaceBook....
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