Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Thanksgiving Week in Review

Monday, Nov. 21
Elliptical Cross Trainers
55 minutes.
700 cals. :)
Calories Consumed: 1380
Fat: 40
Carbs: 182
Prot: 75

Tuesday, Nov. 22
Busy Day
No time for the gym :(
Calories Consumed: 1414
Fat: 55 (1 tbsp Olive Oil is 14)
Carbs: 156
Prot: 86

Wed. Nov. 23
Elliptical 430 cals
30 minutes
Calories Consumed 1232

Thurs. Nov. 24
Elliptical 800 cals :)
60 minutes
Happy Thanksgiving!!
 
Well, let's just say, Thanksgiving wasn't a great Calories - Consumed day; in the morning, after my crazy work out, I weighed 186! When I came home though I weighed 190. :) Oops. Nevertheless, at my normal Sunday Weigh-in I was only 188. So, not bad!
 
In other news, my left knee hurts, and my back hurts really badly. Trying to push through the pain. Stupid body.
 
In other other news, I felt very discouraged the past few days. And since I emotionally eat, ya know, it wasn't the best for the diet. But even in that period of feeling discouraged I still "tried" to eat right. Back to calorie counting. Small portions. I'm still doing pretty good. :)

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Mid-Week Weigh In

187.8lbs.
I have a fat measuring scale; I just need to remember how to use it.
I blocked that information out of my brain.
:)

Monday, November 21, 2011

Week in Review (Nov. 14-20)

Monday, Nov. 14, 2011
Elliptical Cross Trainers
510 cals.

Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2011
Elliptical Cross Trainers
660 cals.
Incredible work out. Felt SO great!

Wednesday, Nov. 16, 2011
Elliptical Cross Trainers
605 cals

Thursday, Nov. 17, 2011
MTV Power Yoga that busted by butt, but not as badly as a few weeks ago.

Friday, Nov. 18, 2011
Elliptical Cross Trainer / Stairmaster
Resistance 20 (top resistance) for 30 minutes.
Resistance 5 for 5 minutes
500 cals. (was hoping to get to 700 in, but my poor husband locked
himself out of his car, and I had to leave early.)

It was a really great work out week. The bummer: nothing is fitting better after a month. And I gained 2 pounds, albeit, it could be "muscle". Anyway, here's to trying for another month.

Goal this week: To burn 700 cals on Thanksgiving Day. Plan to be at the gym by 7:30am so I can catch the Macy's Day Parade at 9:00am with my cup of coffee (my personal holiday tradition).

Thursday, November 17, 2011

When Guilt Replaces Grace

It is my experience that in the church, the institution that most preaches grace, when grace is most needed it is often replaced with guilt.

One time, while I was on staff at a church, we took a "work" mission trip; long days of strenuous labor in the hot sun. During this trip, one of our interns became sick. Now, granted, this intern complained a lot. I love her. She's great. Spunky. But, for her, it might have been a season of inconsistency. I don't know. Regardless, she became sick. And to be honest, even if she was lying to us, that was her choice. I don't have to know either way. After all "love always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." So, I chose to trust her. And in turn, this aligned me with her well-being.

But. My superiors didn't believe her. That, of course, was their choice. I suppose there were methods they could have used to convince her to get off her butt and get back to work. Instead they sided with guilt. "You made a commitment to this internship..." "Is this going to be the nature of the entire summer?" (Behind her back: "She has been complaining ALL summer! She has been so difficult to deal with; she is obviously faking this.")

I later went into her room and asked her straight-up if she was faking, and she said sadly and weakly, "no". She ended up going home, but, behind her back, for the remainder of the summer, it was muttered under one's breath how annoyingly immature she was. And all I remember thinking is: could we have just used a little more guilt? ::Sarcasm implied::

It's been a long time coming that I have been able to identify guilt-tactics. During an internship I served in, in which I had great concerns with many things they were doing, I had decided it was time for me to leave; to back out of my commmitment and go home. When I told my supervisor this directly he responded with: "View this internship as a marriage. If you back out of this, you might be the kind of person to back out of a marriage." "A woman of intergrity keeps her promise even if it hurts her. (referencing Psalm 15:4)" The irony for me is two-fold: 1. Unless you are in an arranged marriage, you court the person before you decide to make a commitment to them. Well, technically, even in arranged marriage the family courts the other family. 2. The people hosting my internship had also broken their commitments to me. Regardless, the guilt was thick.

Once during college the finacial aid office wrote me a letter to tell me my work-study money had just about run out. I'd been working a position similar to an RA position (called a CMC - Campus Ministries Coordinator) AND I was working a work-study position. I was completely unaware the CMC position would also pull from my work-study money. I had never been told that would happen. At the end of the letter telling me I was just about out of money (money that I needed very very much), the person signed it with: "Have a nice day." I was furious. Just that year, the college had taken away one of my scholarships because they changed it from a leadership grant to a scholarship based on need. So, they told me I was originally getting it because I was a valuable leader, but then took it away because I didn't "need" it. And then, they rolled it over into a low-interest loan. Considering I still owe approx. $30,000, I'm pretty sure I needed it. Regardless, I wrote them back a letter.

I laid out their miscommunications, their inconsistencies, and their "shadyness". I expressed that they needed a policy to make sure students KNEW that campus positions and work-study positions would ALL pull from work-study funds. And I finished the letter with this: "The next time you are telling a work-study student he or she is out of funds (they obviously need or they wouldn't be doing the work-study program), please reconsider closing with "have a nice day". I will NOT be having a nice day anymore."

About 15 minutes later I received a call from a sobbing woman accusing me of personally attacking her. Granted, my final blow was sharp. I admit that. But the rest of the letter was an attack on the college. I was then called into my CMC supervisors office. Mind you - this was a Christian college. My supervisor proceeded to tell me I was inappropriate, that I was not being very Christ-like in my response, and that I wasn't being a very good Christian leader. And she proceeded to tell me this repeatedly in different ways for about 15 minutes. I then went directly to the financial aid office and apologized, restating that the beginning of the letter was not an attack on the woman, but the college. I apologized for my straight-forward writing style.

A few weeks later, I was talking to my advisor. I loved him. He was a great Christian-leader and a spectacular professor and had been a missionary in China for 10 years. I told him the story. And he smirked at the end of the telling: "Oh, that's nothing: they messed around with my pension and I also wrote a letter. They also called me into their office and proceeded to call me a bad Christian, a poor leader, etc." He continued with this: "This always happens. There was nothing wrong with what you did. But jump through their hoops of asking forgiveness. It will all work out in the end."

A week later the financial aid office wrote me to inform me they had [magically] come up with $2000 more for my work study. Ironic.

All of this to say: guilt is laced into our minds. Guilt is not from God. It makes us believe we are somehow less than human. It makes us believe we have something tragically wrong with us. It makes us believe we aren't good. It makes us believe our accuser is better than us. Someone else encourages us to feel these things too: oh, that's right, the Father of lies.

Then, we want to form good habits of eating right, exercising, and boy don't we feel guilt when we miss a work out or we eat something not healthy or we even CRAVE something unhealthy. I feel guilty when I don't reach 600 calories (self-induced guilt). We break ourselves down with guilt.

So, here's to one huge blog entry all to say: Fuck Guilt.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

One Comment Can Make Your Whole Day

Today was a pretty yucky day for various reasons. But, today as I was sharing my weight-loss motivation with someone they told me they could tell I've been losing weight. Yay! I'm not, but at least I look like I am.

Sleeping in a little tomorrow morning. Then going to my favorite restuarant for lunch.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Anger to Sooth the Soul

My lovely little pissed-off work out earned me the highest calories burnt in one work-out in my entire lifetime. It's a good way to render my Sicilian heart beat; into sweat and determination. :) 660 cals in 50 minutes.

Rain to Wash My Blues Away

Yesterday was a difficult day. I did not want to work out. Mainly because it's difficult to maintain motivation when I'm not really seeing any results at all. But then, I determined that my motivation ought to be the lack of results. If I still don't see results in another month I have a full-fledged reason to go to the doctor and find out what's wrong with me.

So, I pulled my lazy butt to the gym and punched out 500 difficult calories. About 10 minutes into my "run" my calfs and shins and feet hurt SO badly. I switched my stride and pace and it eventually went away. The last part of the work out was better but still tough. But, I felt great afterward. I actually enjoy being sweaty. I also felt more motivation to go today because yesterdays tough workout was alright in the end.

Today, it is raining! I'm so excited because it's been about a month since it rained last. Rather than wanting to curl up with a good book and hunker down I was motivated to get up and go to work. Since the rain is so rare, I always always ALWAYS would much rather sit and be still; so finding motivation to get up was unexpected. This working out thing is doing something wonderful for my mind. Maybe that's the results I need.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Damn it.

So, the tragic weigh in day. I weigh 190.4. Yeah. 3 weeks strong of busting my ass at the gym and eating right, I'm back to start. Granted, when I asked my husband his honest opinion: Do I look better? he said, Yes, your stomach has gone down. It makes me feel a little better, but really, no weight at all? Urrrrr!

And as I type this blog entry I'm SO HUNGRY. Rawr. Alright, after 1 month of doing this I should see something right?

Oh and Postscript: I actually ate well all week and weekend. I didn't binge. I didn't really even have something I wanted in particular. I worked hard. Damn it.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Life-long Vow Broken in Shame

I was the fat kid. Well, I wasn't really. I look back at pictures and think how cute and little I was. When I was in elementary school I was slender. But somewhere in 6th grade little girls decided I was just a tad too chunky. I was tormented. They mocked me in the locker room (what the hell are Middle Schools thinking by making awkward adolescents be humiliated by dressing (or GOD FORBID showering) before one another. And unattended (understandably). However, this is breeding ground for life-altering humiliation and life-long invisible scars). They mocked my outfit choices. They mocked my smell. They labeled me. Accused me of being homosexual (though I thoroughly enjoy men, for the record).What I find so ironic is, these tormenting words haunted me so tremendously that my perception of my body was completely distorted; I wore XL shirts when really I needed to be wearing Mediums. Literally. In high school when I lost all my weight I began weeding through my closet and discovered clothing I'd worn when I was younger. They were all MUCH larger than I even wore at my heaviest. Crazy isn't it?

Regardless, what I find even more fasinating than that, with the beauty of facebook, I have reconnected with a few of those "tormentors": they don't remember being so cruel. So, the very girls who altered my perception, who were the catalyst to my years struggling through depression and self-hatred, don't remember it. And I'm sure, with age, these women have become beautiful wifes, mothers, and leaders in our communities. In fact, I'm confident one of them is a wonderful person.

Anyway, moving beyond that heart-wrentching story I've told hundreds of times (in a "former" life I was a youth pastor) to inspire compassion for others and hope for the tortured, I bring a lighter-note of a vow I made early in life that required that back story. Note: this vow might offend some, and for that I truly apologize. I vowed to never ever ever ever step foot inside a Lane Bryant shop, never ever never. Number 1, I vowed that because I decided I would never wear clothing that was bigger than it needed to be. Number 2, I vowed that because I decided I would never NEED to wear clothing in a "plus-sized" category. And thank God, I have, relatively, always had a petite frame; I've typically always worn small tops and 8-10 sized bottoms.

But. Over the past two years, I've begun wearing Medium tops. This was my first indication that something was going wrong. (Now, I know, Medium is not large or extra-large, but for me, Medium is not the direction I want to be going.) Then this year, I was forced into size 12 pants. I haven't purchased jeans in probably about 10-12 months because I refuse to buy anymore size 12s. (Side Note: even if Stacy London and Clinton Kelly say I should wear what fits me well, disregarding size, I say: I'll write a blog and exercise my ass off before I wear sizes that remind me daily that I'm fat. So there!)

Ok, ok, sorry, I keep getting distracted. Soooo... how I broke my vow. Well, if you recall from my first post, one of my weight loss goals is a pair of sexy riding boots.
(Carlos Santana's <3)


So anyway, I wanted a pair so badly this year. I made my husband scour stores with me. But not one pair would fit. Either they weren't big enough for my calves, or they would have a weird strap somewhere which would cut off my circulation... but I had looked at Lane Bryant online. They had boots. ::sigh:: So as a last resort... regretfully... I went in. The worst part is: the boots there STILL looked awful on me. Yeah. They fit. But they were snug. I was SO So SO bummed. And depressed. Mainly because I broke my vow, but mostly because, I needed to be there.

Once we left, I vowed to never go into a Lane Bryant again.

Now, I know to some Lane Bryant is a wonderful store. And, granted, they have really cute stuff. But for me, to have to shop there means I've gained too much weight. I just hope my body will comply.

My next installment will be humorous fat comments made to me over my lifetime. Until then:

Au revoir.

Monday, November 7, 2011

So Over-And-Done-With Bingeing

Ok, so, my fitness nazi friend reminded me to never reward myself with food again. I love this! We're actually on the same page. My first goal reward is new exercise clothing. Mine are from college and falling apart. My second goal reward is a pair of sexy riding-boots (these have a story which I will share later). Anyway, this weekend I went on a retreat to prepare for a 4 day event several months from now. This event is called an Emmaus Walk, and it is a big joke that during an Emmaus Walk no one EVER goes away hungry; in fact, there is so much food at every hour that one is awake that it's like one big binge session. And the food is intensely good, cooked and baked by women who pour their heart and souls into chocolate pastries and yummy treats. Evil really. And they call it Agape. Seriously. :)

Anyway, during our little weekend retreat I was well behaved! I ate small portions during meals, and had seconds of salad only. I had one cookie. And two small candy bars and a few mints. Though the extras were not healthy at all, I promised myself that on weekends I would allow myself a small amount of treats.

The problem is, when I came home from this retreat, I kept wanting food I shouldn't be eating. And then I thought, well I worked out ALL week. I feel better. So, yeah, pizza, chinese, and chocolate sounds good this weekend. Now I feel icky.

So this morning, I committed to NO BINGEING next weekend, and for that matter, if I'm not going to reward myself with food, I'm not going to reward myself with bingeing. Dur.

So my Sunday weight was... du du duuuuuuuunnnn: 189. Up since last weekend, but not by much. So, if I keep up the good work this week, I hope to be to 187 next Sunday!

Friday, November 4, 2011

Fabulous to Fabulous and Fit

Hi! Well, it's a long story, my journey from determining myself to be fabulous. You are turning the page into my new journey of discovering fitness as being fabulous and therefore enhancing my already proven fabulousness.

Fitness has been the vain of my existance. In adolesence, in which every awkward stage is heightened by rushing hormones and self-hate, I was pointed out as a "fat kid". I used to become so angry with my parents for not putting me in dance or something athletic. The reality is, I prefered milk-shakes to jogging.

In my senior year of high school I weighed around 155lbs. I had auditioned for the show-choir I'd been dying to get in from middle school on. They were all beautiful and popular and wonderful. When I  didn't make the team I became so angry and convinced my weight had influenced the director's decision; I promptly decided to go on a diet (first time in my life). My family and I chose the Atkins' Diet. I began to look at nutrition labels, and I became obsessed. I quickly lost 10lbs and continued to become more and more "svelt". I adored the way I felt! It was during this time I realized just how many calories I'd consumed as a middle schooler. Did you know those wonderful drum-stick icecream cones have about 350 or something calories? I'd eat two or three in an afternoon.

Progressively I changed my attitude toward food. I also realized during college the Atkin's Diet might be a little unhealthy (ie: eating all the fatty portions on red meat, oh and, all the red meat you can handle; mayonaise was ok; pork rinds were ok.... yeah, you get the point). So I jumped on the South Beach band wagon: whole grains, wise fruit intake, lean meats, more veggies if possible, etc. I have pretty much stuck by those rules since. I have, therefore, been able to maintain my weight under 200lbs.

But every single time I get closer to 200lbs I FREAK out. Which brings us to the present year. In February 2011 I married my best friend and the one who challenges me the most out of any human in all of existance. Anyway, about three months prior to the wedding I reduced my calories to approximately 600-1000 a day. I did this fully knowing once I started eating regularily again I would gain weight FAST, but I wanted to be thinner. Thinner has always been the motivation. Not healthier. Not fitter. Thinner. Prettier. Attractive. Approved. I weighed approximately 175lbs at the wedding.

After the wedding I gave myself a month to eat however I wanted. I didn't go nuts, but I ate McDonald's (my true vice), icecream, sushi, pizza, steak, brownies, WEDDING CAKE for weeks. It was amazing. And my alcohol intake increased: beer and a lot of it (the good stuff only - Shiner, Guiness, micro-brews, etc.), wine, martinis, mojitos... ::sigh::

My weight maxed at 193 about 7-8 months ago. I had given myself a month, but I kept eating how I wanted for a few after. It was sometime in April or June that I finally weighed myself because nothing was fitting anymore. When I saw the scale read 193 I was furious. Remember: too close to 200. Then I began thinking of family, babies, belly... shit, I'd be well over 200lbs in no time! Probably closer to 240-260!!! NOOOOO! So, for 3-4 months I began eating MUCH healthier. I cut my calories to 1200-1500 a day. I added some of my South Beach priniciples back in. I started eating salads more often. But it wasn't enough. My weight stayed right at 193. I couldn't lose one damned pound!

All of this climaxes to two weeks ago. I got a stomach flu. (As the anorexic statement goes: "I'm just one stomach flu away from my goal weight.") I was stoked. Finally I'd begin to lose some weight. In fact, I lost 7 pounds. But as soon as the flu was over, I, of course, gained every ounce back. I posted this to facebook: "Lost 7 pounds in 3 days of stomach flu; gained it all back eating healthy and drinking water... in 2 days. I hate my body. Someone want to trade? At the gym." This little comment began a fury of commenters; one in particular is a personal trainer and probably a life coach. I love her. She's got spunk for such a tiny person. I always tell her to eat more.

Anyway, she pounded my weak-ass with her mind-altering fitness dogma (fitness dogma which works, unfortunately). I was convicted. I am a repentant fatty.

My goal for this year: To exercise at least 4-5 times a week, burning between 400-600 calories a day. Right now I'm sticking with eating healthy. I began working toward this goal last Wednesday, and after three days of back to back work outs averaging 400 cals per work out, I went from around 190 to 188. My first mile-marker is mid-January. I want to drop at least one size. I will weigh in again Sunday morning.

After one year I hope to be fitter, smaller, and healthier. I'm doing this with three things motivating me.

1. God didn't make me fat. I did. It's time to "reclaim" my body.
2. The cavemen (and women) were fit because they ran everywhere. Well, I'm not about to give up my car (I enjoy driving fast too much). Instead, I'll use the elliptical/treadmill/bicycle as a device to remember I'm human and humans weren't meant to sit around all the time.
3. I want to be fit so that when I do become pregnant, I can continue exercising and will provide a healthy "vessle" for my kids.

Here's to the beginning of a new journey. And here's to my chronicle of faith, fat, and fit.