Mind games and more mind games...

I still believe I am completely incapable of doing things I know (and have proven) I am totally capable of doing.

Best examples: Every Sunday is a spin endurance class. The first three Sundays of the month are 90 minutes, the last Sunday of the month is 2 hours. Yes, spin. The very class I told myself I was too fat to try. (And by the standards I was using, I still am. And that was a year ago.) So I've been doing this endurance class most of the last year. And yet, every week I am sure I am not capable of of this class. I somehow manage to push that to the back of my head and just tell myself to try. If I can't finish the class, I can't. But I do. And yet the next week we go through the same thing.

I'm not really sure what's really going on in my head that brings this on every week. I know people look at me and would never assume I take spin, let alone an endurance class. But why do I think that about myself?

Obstacles or Opportunities?

Today started out pretty well. I had to do a repeat sleep study last night to see if I still had sleep apnea and needed to use a CPAP. Sleep apnea was one of the few concrete manifestations that all that extra weight was hard on my body. I wanted to wait to re-do the sleep study until I had lost "enough" weight. (Feel free to roll your eyes here.) I just didn't want to have to keep doing these studies if, realistically, the fact that I'm still this heavy would likely mean the sleep apnea was still hanging around. But, I gave in to my doctor (this time) and went for the study. Although they can't tell me the official results yet, I am quite certain since they never came in for "part two", where they calibrate what your cpap settings should be, that I no longer need one! (I did get the tech to smile and nod her head at my assumption.)

But then I drove 45 minutes to get to my Weight Watchers meeting. The scale was unkind. Terribly unkind. And not all of it unfairly, I admit. But I took it as a crushing blow. I cried a little bit when my friend got to the meeting. I started to feel the tiniest bit hopeless.

I came home, tearing up off and on. I let myself feel it. Then I gave it a time limit. I can sit around and be mad, sad, full of self doubt, whatever it needed to be. Until time was up.

I believe people, events, situations, etc. are put in our lives on purpose. Nothing is random. I don't think so, anyway.

So the question is, these people, events and situations--they can be pleasant or unpleasant. Either way, we have a choice. We can make them opportunities or obstacles. It's all how we play it.

I'm choosing opportunity.

Sometimes...

Sometimes you find encouragement and motivation in the least expected places. Or people. For me, it's not that I don't expect people can be encouraging or motivating, it's that I won't let them get in far enough to do it. I did that yesterday with two different people. It was both terrifying and liberating. And to them I say, THANK YOU!

Consider the source....

So yesterday I had an encounter that, without going into details, was something that could have rocked my confidence, if I'd let it. Basically, somebody came up to me and a friend from work that I was working out with, and asked if I was "new to the gym" and "a beginner". I let that irritate me for about 15 seconds, and then I had to consider the source. She doesn't remember me, and there's a good reason for that.

When other people say random things to me, I have to again consider the source. Do they know anything about me? Most of the time they really don't. I often let those random comments bother me way too much. But I have to consider the source.

But really, the source I have to consider and take to heart the most is me. What am I telling myself? That's really the only source that matters.

Tap Tap Tap...Is this thing on?

I'm pretty sure at this point I've probably lost most of my followers. But that's okay, because when I started this blog, I never expected anybody to read it in the first place!

Okay, so what's the deal with me, anyway? Where do I start. I'll start by saying that things SEEM to be moving again. Seem to be. I'm cautiously optimistic. I first have to confess that after months and months (AND MONTHS) of a plateau, I started to slip up in the attitude department. I never gave up. EVER. But I started to make more bad choices than I should have, because I started to believe I had no control. But I know that's absolutely not true. Whether that stupid scale moves or not isn't in my control. Everything else is. So I'm back to being accountable. Perfect? No. Accountable? Yes.

This is such a mental process. Things have happened this past year that have rocked my confidence and chipped away at some of the progress I'd made in the self esteem department. It took me a little bit too long and way too much justification of some crappy behavior aimed my direction to come to the realization that it all had an effect on me and in turn, my work at losing weight. It made me want to be invisible again. Well, game over, creep. I've rebounded, and you're still a jerk.

But it just reminds me that I have to believe I'm worth all the effort, and yes, it is a lot of effort, for me to succeed at this.

It occurred to me today that despite my frustration, stall, slips ups, etc, that not once did it ever occur to me that I would not reach my goal. Never. Because I will. I don't know when. And that's okay. I just know I will.

Morbid Obesity is not an eating disorder?

Are you kidding me?

Let me preface this rant by saying I am NOT bashing Weight Watchers here. I think Weight Watchers is the best commercial weight loss program out there. But this is so off the mark. SO OFF THE MARK.

I'm looking through some of the articles on the Weight Watchers website and I see one on eating disorders. This is a topic pretty relevant to me at the moment. But I really almost cannot believe I'm reading this correctly. Here's the statment:

OCTOBER, 2007 — Obesity and eating disorders both involve eating behaviors, but they should not be confused. Eating disorders are serious medical conditions that are diagnosed by specific criteria.

While obesity and eating disorders both involve eating behaviors, they are very different things. Obesity is considered a metabolic disorder characterized by excess fat on the body that contributes to ill health. It is associated with eating too many calories from food and not expending enough calories in physical activity. Eating disorders are mental disorders characterized by distortions in body image, control issues and other psychological concerns.

What floors me is the implication here that morbid obesity is not tied to psychological issues.

Um.

Seriously? Does Weight Watchers truly believe that to be the case? Really? Maybe we need to talk. What's Jean Nidetch's number?

The Dark Post...

I have been working on this entry for a few days, longer in my head really, but have been dragging my feet with posting it. Because it's scary to put it out there. And believe me, this is just the tip of the iceberg.

I think I'm beyond the point of saying I'm losing it. I think I've already lost it. I am consumed with anxiety. And fear. I don't know how to let go of it. Its two things. It's the whole weight loss thing, and another thing, the details of which I wont get into, but its got me wrapped up in knots, produced three anxiety attacks to date, and I feel like there isn't much I can do about it. At least not right now.

The weight loss part of it is all about control, I think. Or not. Im not sure. I don't know how to let go. (Not let go as in give up, let go as in relax the death grip a little bit.) I feel like I should release it, but I'm scared. Because doesn't it make sense that if the exercising and eating that I do now aren't producing the results, I should exercise more and eat less? I mean really, that's how its supposed to work. But now I'm analyzing everything, to the point of over-analyzing. And that leads to more stress.

Except that its not working that way for me. And it's turned into a pretty wicked case of self loathing. Something I had come so, so far on. Something I've struggled with my WHOLE life. And I had come so far with it. And in the course of a few months, I'm back to hating my very existence. And pretty convinced everybody else does, too. Even the people that care.

And the bottom line is, I'm scared. After feeling like I hit rock bottom last week, I called for approval to see a counselor. Hopefully that will happen quickly. I don't even know why I'm posting this.

Reality Check

I had a reality check (or two or three) today.

After last Saturday's minor meltdown, I asked one of the trainers at my gym if I could meet with her. She isn't one of the trainers I've worked with directly, but she has lost a lot of weight herself, so I thought in addition to her professional expertise, she may have some personal experience with what I'm going through. Not that I expected her to have the magic answer.

And while she has some ideas on what I might do, more importantly she said some things that put a lot of this into perspective for me.

So here are some highlights of what I came away from our conversation with:

--I need to stop downplaying my past success. It does matter. Regardless of what's going on now.

--While getting to a certain size or weight may be a goal, the bigger goal is to be healthy, no matter what size or weight I am.

--To think about, when I start feeling completely consumed by the "tragedy" I've made out of not losing actual pounds these last months, some of the other ladies at our gym. Who are battling cancer. Who have had some really crappy things happen to them. You know, REAL problems. It's okay to be frustrated, but in the grand scheme of things, I think I live a pretty blessed life and have so much more in my life to be thankful for than for those things I have to be depressed about.

And some of the things she said she's felt, I swear if I kept a journal I'd believe she stole it and read it. It helps to know others have been there.

So bottom line, I am going to keep doing what I know. Yes, we're going to be strapping a heart rate monitor to me for two weeks so we can determine if Im eating the right amounts for my activity level, but Im going to continue to make the healthy choices and not be so wrapped up in the emotional crap I've let build up. I have often said to Jessica that I feel like, to some people, my weight loss is the sum total of who I am, and I hate that. HATE IT. And yet, I've let my lack of weight loss recently become the sum total of who I am in my own mind. I have to stop that.

I have to stop worrying about people who don't believe in plateaus, or think I exercise a lot so I can eat boxes of Twinkies. Or that there is only one way to define a fit and healthy person.

I know what I do. I know where I've been. And I know where I'm going.

Just when you thought it was safe....

So at last Saturdays weigh in, I had a loss and reached an all-time low. That was three weeks in a row of losses (two of them rather small, but they were losses). I was hopeful but not ready to declare the plateau over. (Oh, and I know there are some people who think plateaus aren't real, and its just a question of compliance. Yeah. Right. But I'll leave that conversation for another day and another audience.)
Two weeks ago I added another spin class to my workout schedule. I worked out a lot this week (51APs for you Weight Watchers). I was hopeful. I want so badly for that scale to start moving again.

I went to weigh in this morning. It moved. A big move. The wrong way. W. T. F?

I am hanging on by a thread and its fraying.

But I am going to keep working hard. I have to. And I want to. I just need something to go right.

Here Comes The Sun

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
It's all right, it's all right

The end of the chapter...

Yesterday was rough. Really rough. I honestly can't remember the last time I cried that much. I've been frustrated, but I never let it make me cry. Not like that.

Until yesterday. I'm just going to put this all out here so there is no misconception.

Yesterday was the final check in for a 12 week "Biggest Loser" challenge at my gym. I hesitated even joining the challenge, because it wasn't based on overall weight loss, it was based on body fat lost and muscle gained. Well, in addition to being on a plateau from hell (and now yes we can say its definitely a plateau), in my year and a half of working with personal trainers I've NEVER shown a gain in lean body mass. But, I signed up anyway. Fast forward to about 6 weeks in. Still not losing weight at the scale. Still busting my ass. Still nothing happening. I decided to have my trainer do a body composition analysis, just to see where I stood. I was prepared for it to say I'd lost more lean body mass, just like it always does. But it didnt. It said I GAINED over 6lbs of lean body mass in six weeks. Impressive, right?

Here's the thing. I don't take steroids. I still have enough fat hanging around that to show that kind of gain in lean body mass is just pretty much impossible. And I don't care how much protein I eat. It's just really not. I was shocked, and I doubted it. But I also got excited. Maybe it WAS possible? Maybe? Maybe all my hard work was paying off? Maybe Im really not on a plateau? Maybe I now had some hope to cling to? But always in the back of my head I just knew it couldnt be right. But when I would express that doubt, to people who understand physiology far better than I, I got shot down for doubting myself. So a couple weeks later, on the last day of my training, I asked for another analysis. It showed I gained 2 more pounds in lean body mass. At this point, I let my brain ditch logic completely.
Again, let me just stress how hard it is for a woman to put on that kind of lean mass. But, I was encouraged by the professional to think it was legit.

So yesterday I go in for the analysis. I had expressed doubt in the days before to Jessica, that I needed to prepare myself, just in case. I clearly didn't prepare myself enough. Long story short: I have lost less than a pound of fat in 3 months. I have gained a pound in lean body mass. Ouch. Those two other tests? Wrong. Just wrong. And I was devatasted. Should I be a stronger person than that? Maybe. And I am a strong person. But I was absolutely devastated. And not because I knew there was no way in hell I would place in the top three of the challenge, let alone win it.

No, my devastation came from using the incorrect information as validation to keep at the diet and exercise, when it's been a real struggle to feel like I can do it. When I have felt for months that I've been busting my ass and not getting anywhere. I had hope. And that hope got pulled away, in a matter of seconds. (Okay, maybe minutes when you factor in the analysis was done a second time by one of the other trainers in hopes the first one was wrong.)

Am I angry that that I let myself have hope when I should have known that the probability of my putting on muscle like that was all but non-existent? Yes. Am I angry that the people who ARE PAID to know that the physiological facts make those tests results highly suspicious didnt consider that? Yeah, frankly I am.

But at this point, that's water under the bridge. Water made largely of all the tears I cried yesterday. I lost all hope. I could care less about the challenge. I need to know Im going to be successful and reach my weight loss goals. This months long battle with the scale has left me feeling helpless and pretty close to hopeless sometimes. But I will not give up.

I realize this post will offend somebody. Somebody I care about. I cannot help that. I started this blog as a way to channel my feelings, and this brought out some might strong ones. All I can do is be honest and not malicious about it.

After I left the gym (without working out, because I saw no point in it), Jessica called to see if I was okay (gym staff actually went to drag her out of spin class, to be honest). We met at Starbucks, where I cried for most of the time there. One of the things she said repeatedly was 'please don't let this be a reason for you to stop believing in yourself'. She knew. She knows how tenuously I've been hanging on recently. She knew. She knew that's exactly how I was channeling this disappointment.
She didnt tell me to be strong, she didnt tell me to just look back at all I've accomplished. She KNEW that none of those things mattered to me right then. When all I felt was that I had no hope and no chance of succeeding. Trite was not what I needed to hear. She let me cry. And I did. For most of the day.

So, here I am, a day later. What is in the past is in the past and can't be undone. To dwell on it, for me, would be holding me back rather than pushing forward. I'm going back to basics. But I'm going forward. This is the end of the chapter of self doubt. Will the scale be on board with the plan? Who knows. But it's time to move on.

My brain AND my body are getting a break this week.

I am mentally exhausted. I am pretty close to physically exhausted. While I did manage to lose the 4+ pounds that hopped on to the scale with me last week, I found out I wasn't kicking ass in the gym like I had thought. Long story, but just know that I had a legitimate reason to believe I was. But, that rug got pulled right out from under me this morning. Thankfully the scale was nice to me, though, because if it hadn't been, I'd probably still be at Krispy Kreme, three hours later.

Here's the deal. I have been working hard. HARD. I wish I could say the results on paper don't matter, but for me they do. But lately the amount of mental energy (read: anxiety) I have been expending on figuring out what's going on with my body is at least equal to, if not in excess of, the energy I've been spending at the gym. With not a lot to show for either one.

Last week, I quite literally sat in my Weight Watchers meeting in tears, debating to myself what I should try next...laxatives or gastric bypass. That is not a joke or an exaggeration. I was thinking that. I just honestly don't understand how I can be working so hard and not getting anywhere.

So, this week I'm going to forego any strength training and stick to cardio. And though I'll be making healthy choices with food, I'm going to do my best not to be worried how every last thing (even the healthy choices) may show on the scale, good or bad. That scares me a little bit, because I'm afraid to NOT be vigilant about it, about all of it. But the mental gymnastics have done nothing but left me exhausted and deflated (and crying in Starbucks for an hour.) And that seems to be leading me back to the negative self talk. And that's not good.

I just don't know what else to do. I'm just completely exhausted.

Stepping back to push forward...

I didn't weigh in today at Weight Watchers. I had planned on that. I made that decision, after talking with my consiglieres, because I need to find a little peace with the scale right now. And going in every week and getting a little bit of a smackdown is not bringing me peace. At all. Not any small bit of it. Yes, I know the scale isn't everything. TRUST me when I say I know that. I have now been lectured by exercise professionals, Weight Watchers staff, people who have lost a lot of weight, and my own doctor about this fact and that I should not be panicked about this, that I'm not panicked. Because I KNOW what I'm doing on my end. And I know it will catch up on the scale someday. But week after week, I go in there with such high hope that THIS IS THE WEEK I breakthrough, and when it doesn't happen, I am so deflated. I cannot begin to tell you how much it makes me feel like I'm failing at this. (And please spare me the 'no you aren't' lecture because my feelings are what the are, right wrong or indifferent.)
So I decided the scale can't have that power on me this week. And it may not next week. I'm still going to the meetings, and I'm still working as hard as I can at making the best choices. But when I'm struggling so hard right now to be able to celebrate what I HAVE accomplished, the weekly "you suck" from the scale makes that harder and harder to do.

When I grow up...

I want to be a personal trainer.

(Pausing to let you all get the chuckles out of your system.)

I want to be able to inspire and motivate people as much as Karen and Mari have inspired and motivated me. I am living proof you can do more than you ever believed you'd ever be capable of, with the right cheerleaders in your corner.

It's a little weird to say I'd like to be a trainer so publicly, because I still think it's a ridiculously silly idea. But its in my head.

You can't BS a BSer...

I am proud of myself. Last night I was at a party when the topic of working out came up. Mostly the topic was why people weren't doing it. I was proud that I kept my fat mouth in check.

Here's the thing...anybody trying to look my way for validation of their personal excuses for not doing it aren't going to get very far. You can't BS a master BSer. When it comes to bad eating choices and not exercising, there is nothing you can say to me, other than a legitimate health reason, that will make me want to put my arm around you and justify the excuses. Because there is not one single excuse you can pull on me that I haven't pulled in my lifetime. Not one. There is away around pretty much all of them, if you're willing to look for that way.

Even more than that, though, is you just have to look within yourself to decide what you want, and what you have to do to get there. I absolutely guarantee you that while the excuses may get you out of doing something, they will not get you to your goals. Period.

For the casual acquaintances, I just don't say much, unless they ask. But for my friends, be warned. Expect to be called out. You cant bullshit a master bullshiter.

What if I say I will never surrender?

I'm borrowing song lyrics again. But that's what it comes down to. It's a battle between me and that nagging voice of self doubt that fills my head with crap. What if I say I will never surrender? Because, frankly, I won't.

The time for self-pity (and self-loathing) is over. O-V-E-R. It was over before I got some potentially good news on Thursday. I can't control it all. I can sure has hell control my actions, though.

Maria reminded me of something. This is easy when you got constant positive feedback. It's hard when that feedback is not so forthcoming. Well guess what? I'm not afraid of hard work. I'm not. I'm not afraid to continue to bust my ass every day. (Well almost every day. If it were actually every day The Evil One Legged Squat Monster would get on my case again...) I'm not afraid to face down the tough times. I am stronger than that. I am. (And I might just have 6.6 more pounds of muscle to prove it!)

The reality is....

I'm starting to get a little consumed with the "I can't" mentality.

I just don't know what to do anymore. Nothing is working. Nothing. Please, really please, just spare me the "but look at what you've accomplished" comments, too. Because right now that means absolutely nothing to anybody, especially me. If you haven't been in this position, you wouldn't know how it feels to bust your ass every day, EVERY DAY and get nothing in return for it. They say to eat more. I do that. Nothing. They say add more protein. I do that. Nothing. They say take rest days. I do that. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I go to spin class this morning and truly felt like I had no business being there. None. At the start of the cool down, I quite literally had to fight back the tears. Because I just worked as hard as I could for 90 minutes of spinning and yet the message going through my head was "you're a fraud and a phoney and there is very little point trying to pretend otherwise. You're still too fat to spin."

This totally sucks.

Perception

Let me start off with a slightly rhetorical question... How in the HELL are women of any age, truly supposed to have a healthy body image when all the tabloids this week (including the 'legitmate' gossip magazines) are declaring Jessica Simpson "fat" when she weighs 135lbs? According to them she's 5'3".

We now interrupt this blog post for a Public Service Announcement. Jessica Simpson would then have a BMI of 23.9. Which is NORMAL. Granted it's the upper limits of normal, but it's NORMAL. Normal is GOOD! We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.

Seriously? I would love to call every one of the editors of those magazines and tell them to F off. But I know, it's Hollywood. And in Hollywood, the perception is if you're at a healthy weight, you're fat. If you're anorexic, you're normal. I don't know about you, but I do not want to look like an Olsen Twin. EVER. And I'm sick and tired of being told that's what is expected of women by suggesting that an entertainer is not appealing to the public if she is NORMAL. It's sickening. Just sickening.

And while we're on the subject of perception, let me share something that transpired yesterday. I had a little get together at my house. At one point, I was sitting down next to two friends, and a co-worker said, 'is this the friend you go to the gym with' motioning to the smaller of the two girls sitting there. WRONG!! But why did she assume that? Perception. She meant no offense, I'm sure of that. But it just speaks again to what we assume, even if its not consciously, about others based solely on appearance.

For the record, the bigger girl could post a workout schedule that would put MOST people, no matter their size, to shame.

They're just messing with your peace....

I heard two things this week that struck me very deeply. Neither was said directly to me. But still, both things struck a chord.

One was "You can come up with a million excuses, but I'll bet you can't come up with one reason." That's pretty self explanatory, so I'll leave it alone.

The other thing was said to a friend (The Most Awesome Jess) when she was talking to one of the gym instructors about a (stupid) comment that was made to her. And the instructor said something like "they're just trying to mess with your peace." Wow.
I mean, wow. I want to stitch that on a pillow. I'm going to print it out and put it at work and on my fridge. Because that really hits me. Especially lately with how frustrated I've been at feeling like a freak show. But it applies really to every aspect of life.

I have worked WAY too hard to get where I am, both physically and emotionally, to let some random people (and even people not so random) "mess with my peace".
And the thing is, they can say what they want. They may not intend for their words to rattle me. Or they may. Or they may just be rude people who just give looks. Whatever it is, I cannot let them take away any of the peace I've made with myself. And sadly, over the last few months I've let that happen. I realized it when I heard those words. It was as if they had been said directly to me.

So whatever you run up against, realize people are trying to mess with your peace. Don't let them.

Why does it matter so much?

So for quite awhile now I've been planning to "lose" my photo badge for work and driver's license. But I figured I'd do that when I got to the big 1-5-0. I've been talking about this a lot. I couldn't wait to get new pictures!
Well, a few days ago my work badge broke in half. Okay its a few pounds ahead of schedule, but I was actually filled with glee. Yes, glee. I can get a new picture!!

No such luck. They refused to take my picture over. Silly me, I thought the idea of a PHOTO ID is so that they could identify you based on the picture. Trust me when I tell you that I don't look like that anymore. Silly, silly me. The dude who made the new badge even said "Wow that doesn't look like you at all." Uh, yeah.... And not only did I not get a new picture, they now use pictures twice the size of the old one. Gross.

I admit it, I had a bit of a meltdown. Tears and everything. I have been waiting for new badge day for a long time. My co-worker and friend had heard me talking about "losing" my badge for a long time. She tried her best to make me feel better.

To which I took the pieces of my old badge, hurled it on the floor, and half-yelled "I HATE HER. I don't want to be reminded of her forever." Yep, I said that. Her reply was something along the lines of 'she will always be part of you, you can't be who you are now without having been her.'

I know that's right, and really I don't hate her. Much. Maybe a little.

This just in....

Karen, my trainer, will never be referred to as The Evil One again. Ever.

Because her new name is "The Evil One-Legged Squat Monster." Please address her accordingly.

Thank you for your support. And somebody please carry me to the bathroom.

Yeah, because I'm the expert....

A co-worker started asking me questions today about weight loss, working out, etc. Yeah, because I'm the expert. Right. Anyway...
So one of her questions was "Is there a supplement for increasing metabolism?"

Why yes. It's called building muscle. Supplement your workout routine with resistance training. Thank you, have a nice day.

When are people going to realize there is not now, nor I highly doubt will there ever be, a magic pill? Dream on, sister...dream on.

Be whoever you want to be...

I'm blog happy this weekend, aren't I!? I'm going to take this as a good sign!! But I digress...

So I was chatting with a friend today, and she said something along the lines of 'I used to be a different person back when.' My response to her was something along the lines of 'So be that person again. Because the beauty of all of this is that we can be whoever we want to be.' (And then I immediately told her that was a good topic for a blog post. I'm such a blog whore!)

But seriously, that IS the beauty of life. We can be whoever we want to be. (Yeah, I guess I lost site of that for a month or two myself.) If you're shy but want to be outgoing, you can! If you're a couch potato but want to run marathons, you can! Changing who we are is not easy. God knows I can attest to that. But we CAN do it if we really want to.

Whoever it is that you really want to be, be that person. Work at it. Little by little. Even if it feels strange and weird. Do it anyway. I promise it's worth it!

Quackery....and other randomness

It's another 2-For-1 day on my blog. Mainly because I'm stalling going to bed, despite being loaded up with muscle relaxers. And partly because I haven't posted a lot lately.

Lately I have been on major 'advice overload'. I'm really a simple creature. Give my brain too much to ponder and pretty soon I short circuit. And it has been flying at me from every angle. And some of it is just freakin ridiculous. The most recent example came Friday morning at my annual girly exam. Always a pleasant thing in and of itself. Anyway, I was told "If you want to lose weight, eat 60% of your total calories for the day at breakfast."
Seriously? That's a friggin lot of calories for one meal. Which I guess is fine because I wouldn't eat the rest of the day. I WOULD BE ASLEEP AFTER EATING ALL THAT FOOD! At let's not forget the advice was preceded by the statement "if you want to lose weight." As she showed me her chart on her laptop documenting the EIGHTY SIX POUNDS I'd lost since the last time I was there. Because certainly I could have done better by gorging myself at breakfast.

Okay, then the subject turns to my workout regimen. (Yes, there was a legitmate reason to ask.) So I laid it out there. When I mentioned the spin classes, she said "I couldn't last ten minutes in a spin class." She asked me why I work out so much ("so much" being code word for excessively.) I said it was because I want to achieve my goals. The response? "Well achieving goals is all well and good, but you don't want to drop dead."

Um.

SERIOUSLY?

I've been getting comments about the amount I exercise. And comments about how much I eat (or don't eat.) So I'm just going to lay this out there, all nice and clear.

I am not an exercise bulimic. I'm not a regular bulimic. And I'm not anorexic. I eat. Trust me. I may eat smaller amounts but I also eat more frequently. I eat all the damn time. I don't starve myself. I don't punish myself with exercise. I am simply living a healthy lifestyle. I'm willing to concede to the experts (and by experts I mean my trainer and other trainers at the gym) that with the increase in activity I need to consider eating more, particularly protein, and I'm doing that. We'll see how that works out over the next few weeks.


Now here's this for random... Went shopping today with Jessica. We were playing in the shoe department when she comes around to where I was and said "that girl just told her friend she couldn't try on shoes because 'she was having a bad foot day".

Um.

SERIOUSLY?

Okay then we were walking past a woman explaining thong underwear to her daughter. Her approximately 8 year old daughter. Yeah, because 8 year olds should be wearing thong underwear.

Um.

SERIOUSLY? (Can I just tell you, by the way, the furor that was unleashed in my family when my niece, who was about 10 at the time, came to spend the weekend at my mother's house and when she had grandma do a load of laundry, all her undies were thongs?)

Yeah. Randomness. I think I need to give in to the muscle relaxers and stop typing!

She stole MY stalker!!

So I don't have a real stalker. Just another person a little too interested in the state of my ass. And what I eat. And how much I work out. And how to get in more protein. Because you know I'm the expert. Right. Anyway...

So I've often bitched about how some people feel there are no boundaries when it comes to what information they can ask me, things they can say to me, etc when it comes to diet and weight loss. Because when you lose a crapload of weight you somehow become public property. Right. Anyway...

So Jessica gets this kinda thing a lot, too. So today, my "stalker" saw her in the gym while she was having a conversation with some other people. Said "stalker" walked by and made a comment about how skinny Jessica was getting. AND THEN PATTED HER ON THE ASS!!!

Okay this whole post could be about my jealousy that MY stalker is fickle, but it's not. Right, anyway....(Can you tell I'm in a better mood, by the way? Despite being in pretty horrific pain the last two days, I've actually got my spark back!)

On what planet is it okay to pat a complete stranger on the ass under the guise of being 'supportive'? ON WHAT PLANET?????!!!!!!!! I might add, Jessica has far more self control than I do. And no practice with the pretty pink boxing gloves. Because I'm pretty sure I would have turned and had a smack down, right there in the gym.

WHY do people think the barriers of privacy are removed because you can see our accomplishments? I don't get it. I really don't.

I am not a natural athlete..

I got the idea from a lady in my Weight Watchers meeting to keep a fitness journal. It was a great idea. I think I'm going to title it "I am NOT a natural athlete."

I'm so not genetically inclined to be an athlete. It's not natural to me. What's natural to me is picking out makeup and curling my hair and painting my nails. And memorizing the OPI nail polish names. I'm a natural at being goofy and silly and a little scattered. I'm a natural at talking to people. Anybody. Just give me five minutes to warm up and then I'm hard to shut up.

I am NOT a natural at physical exertion. I have to work at it. Hard. It seems like I struggle almost every time I get on the elliptical or every spin class to break through the wall I hit in the first ten minutes. My body really just isn't inclined to do it. It has to be finessed. Forced.

But I do it. A lot. I pushed myself through Spin class tonight when I swore I wasn't going to make it past the first 15 minutes.

I would love to think that eventually my body will make this easier. But in reality, that's just not likely. So I'll keep pushing myself and pretending.

On the other hand...

So last week was a "rest" week, per the orders of my trainer. (Rest being a relative term. I did still work out three days.) Time to recharge my body and my mind. And while the scale moved the right way this week, Im not getting my hopes up quite yet. But, I do feel better about things.

Last week over dinner after our beloved Cardio Funk class, my sage Jessica, when I started to whine (again) about how I'm a complete failure because I can't seem to control the scale right now, pointed out that perhaps I should give a little credit to the kind of workout I just did. And how I couldn't have done that a year ago. No matter what the scale says, I have made huge strides in my fitness level. Of course she's right.

If there is any lesson for me to take away from all this, and any lesson that maybe somebody reading can benefit from, it's that when things are getting hard, it's really easy to fall back in to the same patterns of thinking that made me use food as yet one more way to beat myself up. Thinking I'm a failure, that I'm not worth anything, blah blah blah. It's really easy to slip back into the old identity.

When the going gets rough, I'm not going to wuss out. I'm just not. When I'm working out I always tell myself to "finish strong" no matter how tired I am. So that's what I'm going to keep doing here.

I'm just so tired....

I'm just going to lay it out there, and if this offends people...well, you can talk to me individually if you feel I've offended you.

I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I'm tired of:
--feeling like I can't do this weight loss thing right anymore.
--feeling like everything I know I should do is turned upside down
--feeling that I have no control over anything anymore.
--getting paraded around like some circus oddity at the gym
--feeling like all the new people at the gym are staring at the fat girl, in total
bewilderment that she is actually working out.
--people coming up to me and telling what they eat or how much they lost last week.
--people saying the most random things to me, even if they think they're being
complimentary.
--being told I'm their inspiration. I don't want to be. Find somebody else.
--people feeling like they are on this journey with me and are therefore entitled
to every last detail. You're not and you aren't. Period.
--feeling like I don't quite fit in anywhere anymore.
--seeing how the people I've known the longest look at me differently, and not
always in a good way.
--feeling like I should be happy and perky all the time. (Clearly I'm not.)
--having people ask how I eat, what I eat, how fast I eat it, or if I should eat it
at all.
--feeling like I have one last straw to grasp at, and my grip is tenuous at best.
--feeling like my life now belongs to the public-at-large because I've accomplished
something that's visible.

I'm just so tired.

Time for some perspective....

So after having an emotional few days, I showed up for a rare Saturday personal training session. Before the session, my trainer did a body composition analysis, because I hadn't done one in three months. Wanted to see my progress. I even mentioned to my trainer, the lovely Karen, that today probably wasn't the best day to do it, because if it wasn't good, I might just lose it. (Editor's Note: Karen will not be referred to as evil in this post. Even if she tried to make me do non-sissy girl style push ups...) Nice attitude, right?

Well, she handed me the printout, and although my body fat percentage is down, and my lean body mass is a little down (which is totally normal despite the fact that I actually have more muscle now (for reasons I can explain if you care to know), one thing on that piece of paper just effectively kicked me in the gutt. There it was on paper. In the last 4 months, I've lost 13lbs. Just 13lbs. And I'm working harder than I have in my life. That is not an exaggeration. Just 13lbs. I had already been feeling like crap about myself, and that just sealed the deal for me. I started to cry, right there in the gym. One of the other trainers who was helping out mentioned the "P Word". Plateau. I had not considered that perhaps that's what I have been dealing with. And I really don't know for sure if I am. If so, all I can really do is just keep plugging away as best I know how. If not, all I can really do is just keep plugging away as best I know how.

My trainer Karen said "Are you ready to step it up a notch?" At that point I really wanted to bawl. I didn't, but I felt like I wanted to. Here is my current gym schedule:
Monday-1 hour aerobics class
Tuesday-30 minutes with my trainer, 50 minute Spin class, and usually minimum 30 minutes of elliptical or other cardio.
Wednesday-off day but allegedly will be adding a one hour kickboxing cardio class.
Thursday 30 minutes elliptical, 30 minutes with the trainer, and 1 hour aerobics class
Friday 30-45 minutes of cardio
Saturday 30-45 minutes weight training, 30 minutes of cardio and/or 1 hour aerobics class
Sunday-was doing 30-45 minutes cardio, now switching that to a 90 minute Spin class.

When I hear 'kick it up a notch' the first thing that comes to mind is, how much more do you expect my fat ass to do? Yeah, I could conceivably spend more time at the gym. But does that schedule look like I slack off now? I KNOW Karen doesn't think I do. I know that. But my brain translates it into "people think you're fat and lazy and don't work hard enough." People tell me to workout more all the time. People who don't know my workout routine, primarily. There is a lady at work who routinely tells me to workout more. She's maybe 100lbs soaking wet. And HER exercise schedule is to walk her dog every day for 30 minutes. It infuriates me when she tells me to workout more. Because despite the fact she's skinny and I'm fat, I'm pretty sure my endurance would put her to shame and I'm positive Im stronger than she is in terms of muscle strength. But people continue to assume. And I guess I continue to let them.

So the scale hasn't moved much. But I have to give myself credit here. Look at the workout schedule. Aside from my inspiration Jessica, I work out more than pretty much everybody else I know who isn't employed in the fitness industry. Its really habit now. I insisted on getting in exercise while on vacation. That counts for a lot. To me it does.

And I haven't just thrown in the towel during all my frustration. I keep working at it. I'm pretty proud of that, too.

And yeah, the scale isn't moving much, but my body is changing, clothes are getting big, etc.

So despite the scale, despite that number being the bottom line for so many people, I am not a failure or a slacker. I'm just not.

"Your face is so pretty!!"

I am back home in California this week for Christmas. Yesterday I had lunch with some of my old friends, and this morning I went back to the office where I had worked for 15 years to say hello to some people. A recurring thing I kept hearing (along with "so when did you have the (weight loss) surgery?") was "your face is so pretty."
First, please understand how incredibly uncomfortable that kinda stuff makes me. I generally choose to ignore it but have learned to at least politely mutter "thank you."

But here's what I started thinking about, after having heard that over and over... Why are they saying this now? I agree that my face is less fat, but is it really that different?

Or is it that I'm so so much happier now and that shows on my face, translating to the outside world as "pretty"?