Fitness Comes a-Callin'

The world is telling me it’s time to stop avoiding exercise.

First, there’s my new job, which comes complete with a fitness-fanatic partner named Andy. Andy’s a nurse and Army vet, and he’s very much into yoga, meditation, hiking, etc. He’s also a devoted stair-climber. My office, which I will be sharing with Active Andy, is on the 8^th floor. Andy has promised me that he will turn me into a stair climber yet…and I told him that I would give it my best shot. Now, you may remember that one of my mini-goals was to start taking the stairs at work, and I’m kinda proud to say that I’ve been doing that. However, I never have to go higher than the 3^rd floor, so it’s not really that big an accomplishment. But I do it. I have to admit, the thought of climbing to the 8^th floor has me most intimidated, but I’m thinking that maybe Andy will help me come up with some kind of training program. Seriously, if I try to climb to the 8^th floor now, my heart will burst and I’ll keel over dead on a landing somewhere between 3 and 5.

The second thing is my very good friend J, whose life has been full of stress in the last several months. I got an email from her this weekend (I was out of town—normally we just talk on the phone or in person), and she said that she’d been sitting on her couch all weekend, eating cookies and watching movies, and she felt crappy. She said that it was time for a change, and she invited me to join a gym with her. J has been a fit and active person in the past, but she broke her wrist badly late this winter, and it has not been healing well, despite surgery and lots of PT. She loves biking, but her wrist can no longer support her weight on a bike, so she hasn’t been doing much exercise at all. This injury, coupled with a lot of work stress, has gotten her to a point of feeling pretty depressed. Her invitation to work out together is great for me: I get to feel like I’m supporting her, and she gets to support me in my goal of learning to exercise too.

And that’s what it feels like: learning to exercise. I have always felt like the biggest, lamest loser when it comes to anything that involves moving my body around. I feel clumsy, sweaty, wheezy…just icky in every way. I’ve never learned to experience fatigue as a good thing; to me, it just reminds me that I’m fat, I’m asthmatic and I’m unfit. The asthma has definitely been a big influence here. I’ve had it since I was three, and it’s induced by allergies as well as by exercise. So all throughout my childhood, when I would run or bike or otherwise exert myself, I would have an asthma attack. We had to run every day in gym class, and I never seemed to get any fitter, though I’d run like the other kids did (though slower). Over time, I began to believe that I just couldn’t do it, especially when I didn’t perceive any improvement, and exercise made me feel sick.

So now I need to remind myself that it’s OK to huff and puff. Breathing hard is not the same as having an asthma attack. It’s OK to get sweaty and tired, because that means I’m doing something good for myself. Feeling weak and clumsy is OK, because everyone has to start somewhere, and this is where I’m starting.

Wish me luck!

(Oh, and I know…I didn’t weigh in this week. I was out of town visiting with family, and I didn’t get back until late Sunday night. I ate like a big, hungry pig all weekend, so I doubt the news is good, anyway. Next week, though. Promise.)

Weekly Weigh-In

Starting weight: 240
Current weight: 232
Change this week: 0
Total change: -8

Holding steady feels like a fine thing to me, given that I have not been working at all on the weight-loss endeavor AT ALL. I’ve been grateful for the fact that, despite my less-than-ideal emotional state, I haven’t been tempted to stuff myself for comfort. I’m definitely not making the healthiest choices available to me, but I’m also not coming home with a box of doughnuts and quart of milk every night. That is progress in and of itself.

I have been very socially active lately, which is both good and bad. I’ve been seeking out others as a way to cope with feeling draggy and blue, and that’s definitely helped me out. However, as I’ve written about previously, social events are notoriously difficult for me to handle from a principled-eating perspective. In these last few weeks, though, I’ve thrown the weight-loss thing to the wind in favor of getting my emotional feet under me again, so I’ve really not been thinking at all about the caloric effects of socializing.

It feels like it might be time to start expecting some things from myself again. It also feels like I might be at a place where exerting some control over my eating and re-establishing some small goals will help me feel like I’m moving forward.

So. Small goals. I liked the goal of taking the stairs at work, which I have completely abandoned in the last few weeks. I also want to re-establish the habit of taking my lunch to work, which has fallen by the wayside recently along with the stair-climbing. I feel silly about setting these wee little micro-goals, but I’m aware that I’m the person who let her mail pile up all last week and didn’t check her voicemail because she just couldn’t cope with the possibility that someone might want her to do something. I’m wanting to maximize the chances of success, so I think it’s best to keep it small.

Sigh. Well, it’s all about setting off down the road again, right?

Oh, and guess what? Tomorrow’s my birthday. I’m 41. Let’s hear it for good friends who want to take you out to dinner, even when you’re in kind of a cranky place!

And thank you to all of you, too. I so appreciate the messages of support, and the honesty that you all bring to your own blogs. It’s such a freakin’ relief every time one of you says “Yeah, me too.” Thanks for sharing yourselves with me.

Weekly Weigh-In, and Being OK with Being Not That OK

Starting weight: 240
Current weight: 232
Change this week: -1
Total change: -8

Well. Color me shocked. To have lost a pound after the week I’ve had is a miracle indeed. I feel as if my body is trying to take good care of me, in spite of my utter lack of regard for its well-being. Thank you, body. I will try to treat you well in return, and I apologize for what I’ve been doing to you lately.

I started to write “it’s been a tough week.” In reality, it’s been a tough 2007 thus far, though most of the things that have happened have happened to loved ones rather than to myself directly. I have friends coping with injuries that seem to be in the process of becoming chronic, marital infidelity and broken relationships, pregnancies that are not going well…the list goes on. I’ve been relatively lucky so far, with my only woes to date being the job that I did not get this week and some tough-ish times with my father. But I’ve become aware lately of the cost of supporting my loved ones while they go through these things. Not that I am complaining—I feel lucky to be able to be there to help out and listen and do whatever else I can do. But I can feel a certain amount of chronic stress building up.

I am a person, as I’ve said before, who really, really likes to feel competent and unflappable. Bulletproof, even. Go ahead, throw anything at me! I can take it! I will be there, with my compassionate, ever unshakable and ever wise self, ready to listen and to offer feedback. Oh, and I’ll do stuff around the house for you as well! And none of it will affect me in the least. Other than I’ll, you know, feel appropriately sorry for you.

But it does affect me. A good friend of mine (and one of the above-referenced women for whom 2007 has thus far been a big kick in the ass) said recently “When I was a kid, one of the things I never realized about being a grownup was that sometimes you have to work really hard to be OK.” She’s right. I’m just starting to admit to myself that I’m having to work really hard to be OK these days.

I was at a good-bye party last night for a friend who is leaving town to move out to the west coast. He’s never been happy in the Midwest and I am certain that he will never be back here. He’s someone I’ve become very close to, and I found myself nearly strangled with tears from the moment I saw him at the party last night. I’m starting to cry now, just writing about it. I was sort of amazed at the strength of my grief…I mean, there’s email, there are planes, we’ll probably run into each other at conferences, etc. etc. etc. I think, though, that my sadness is about so much more than just losing my friend. It is about that, of course, but it’s also about all the stress and sadness that I’ve been denying in myself the last six months. Saying goodbye to him just gently tipped me over the top, and I can no longer tell myself how very OK I am right now. I mean, I am OK, in the sense that I can still function at work and socialize and do the things I need to do in my daily life. I will be OK, in the sense that at some point life will feel easier than it does right now. But if I’m truthful with myself, my heart’s not OK. It is bruised and sad, and it needs me to recognize and honor that.

So. My goal this week is to be honest with myself, and to be honest with you all, and to stop pretending that it’s all good and that I am the very goodest of them all. Granted, it’s not a diet-specific goal, but I believe that learning to be honest with myself and not needing to be a perfect vision of infallibility all the time can only help me need the comfort of food less.

So Far, So Good

Well. Look at me. After I wrote yesterday's mammoth entry, I got out and went for a walk. Whoo-hoo! And then, today I took the stairs at work. I actually started to cave in and take the elevator, but then I thought of all of you. I thought of how I'd have to come home and admit defeat on the very first day of the week, and I hauled my big ol' self up to the third floor.

Oh, and then...a big bowl of potato chips at dinner tonight, and guess who had not one single chip? Luna, that's who!

I know, I'm a hero.

OK, I'm done being a dork now.

Weekly Weigh-In, and Mini-Goals for the Week

Starting weight: 240
Current weight: 228
Change this week: -1.5
Total change: -12

OK, I’m cheating a little here. Official weigh-in day is Sunday, and this morning I actually weighed 229.5. However, I also weighed in on Friday morning, and the scale showed 228. So, I’m going with that.

I had the thought this week that maybe I should be keeping track of measurements as well, as I can feel my shape changing a little, and that would be a nice source of motivation. I have been too lazy to do so as of yet, but I could probably get myself to do it every couple of weeks. I think I’ll make that a mini-goal.

I’m getting a little impatient about the slow pace of my weight loss. Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy about it, it’s going in the right direction, it took a long time to pack all of this lard on, and it’ll take a while to get it off, etc. etc. etc. I do know all that, and reminding myself of it is helpful. The hard thing, though, is that I’m comparing my nearly-41-year-old, perimenopausal self to the comparative weight-loss machine I was six years ago. Back then, my metabolism was a little zippier, I was more energetic and I was less achy. I was also in the middle of graduate school, and while that was stressful and demanding, my schedule was more variable and allowed for things like walks in the middle of the day and more meals eaten at home. Because I started at a lower weight, walking (my fave exercise) was easier for me from the start, too.

The aches and pains thing is both a motivator and a challenge for me. I look at myself, with my tendency toward plantar faciitis, chronically cranky knees and the occasional twinge of lower back pain, and I’m horrified. People my age are not supposed to be in chronic pain, even if, as in my case, it’s annoying rather than debilitating. This makes me want to take better care of myself, given that I hope to be around for the next 40-50 years, and I don’t want those years to be lived riding around on a motorized scooter or recovering from joint-replacement surgery.

But…I also use those aches as an excuse. There is no escaping the fact that for weight loss and better health, I need to get up and move this bulk around. There are plenty of things I could do that would be lower-impact than walking, if that’s what would be most comfortable for now. Anything that would get me moving would be good: a yoga class, some swimming, a Curves membership… A friend and I have discussed hiring a personal trainer together, as that somehow seems less intimidating.

Good ideas, all. I am so full of excuses, though, that I can feel my mind generating them as I type. I’m just going to write them all out, so that we can all share a good laugh together at the lameness that is my thinking around this issue:

• I get home too late to take walks in the evening. (No, you don’t. You get home at about 7:30 on Mondays, but otherwise you’re home by 6:30 most nights, and it’s light until about 8:00 these days)

• I need to lose more weight first so that I won’t further injure my knees/feet when I walk. (Not really. There are loads of things you could do that would allow you to be active but would not add to the jackhammering your feet and joints get daily just from carrying you around.)
  

• Curves is lame. (How do you know? You’ve never been to one)

• Curves doesn’t have the range of stuff that I might want to do for exercise. (Like sitting on the couch? That seems to be your activity of choice these days, and it’s true that Curves probably does not offer that one.)
  

• A “real” gym would be too intimidating. (How do you know? You’ve never been to one. Are you thinking that people go to the gym specifically to watch out for insecure fat people and mock their feeble attempts to work out?)

• A personal trainer would get impatient with my weak, out-of-breath, out-of-shape, general lack of physical awesomness. (Right, because personal trainers only want to be bothered with folks who are already registered for the Ironman Triathlon and just want to fine-tune their workout regimen a little. And God forbid you should try anything at which you are not already completely awesome.)
  

• Choosing to exercise will be easier once I don’t weigh as much. (Exercising itself may be a little easier, but choosing to exercise will be exactly the same struggle it is right now. Get used to that and figure out how to get over it.)

Hmph.

Well. All private whining (now made public for your reading enjoyment) aside, this exercise thing is a wall I need to find a way over. Some mini-goals are in order:

• Take the stairs at work this week.

• Take a walk after work at least two times. I’m not specifying any particular distance. For this week, success will consist of putting on the sneaks and hitting the sidewalk.

• Start recording measurements.

Have a good week, everyone!

Weekly weigh-in

Starting weight: 240
Current weight: 235
Change this week: -5
Total change: -5

One week, and 5 lbs gone! It’s mostly water-weight, I have no doubt, but I’ll take it. The challenges this week were social ones, as I posted about here. Yesterday I had both lunch and dinner out, which was tough. I think it would work best to declare a moratorium on dining out during this early phase of trying to lose weight and re-adopt some healthier eating, but I can’t bring myself to do that. I have a wonderful bunch of friends, and we tend to enjoy meeting after work or on the weekends to eat and then go do something. It’s kind of a cornerstone of my social life. And besides, I guess I feel like I need to learn to eat out in the world, not only in my own kitchen.

As I think I’ve mentioned, the plan I’m sticking to for now is low-carb and relatively high protein. I’ve been eating a lot of lean meat this week, and LOADS of broccoli, which I detest raw but really like when it’s steamed. Last weekend I steamed up a big bunch and took it for lunch all week, which I think I’ll do again this week. This way of eating works really well for me, especially once I’ve liberalized it a bit to include some fruits. I’m always surprised at how much energy I have when I’m avoiding bread, potatoes, rice, sugar, etc. I’ve always been prone to hypoglycemia, and often if I have a big, carby lunch, by dinnertime I’m weak, lightheaded, ravenous and absolutely unable to make a healthy choice about what to eat for dinner. When I’m doing the low-carb thing, though, by dinnertime I’m usually hungry, but in a pleasant rather than desperate way.

It also feels good emotionally to have a sense of being back in control. That’s a welcome contrast to the way I was feeling a couple of weeks ago, and one I hope I’ll be able to maintain.

So—my goals for last week were to bring my lunch to work and to avoid the fast food trap that I have so often fallen into after work. I am happy to say that I accomplished both! Yay me. I did eat in the food court at the mall yesterday with a friend, but they had a fast food Chinese place where I got chicken and broccoli with minimal sauce. Still, I’m counting this as a success.

My goal for this week is a simple one, but it’s going to bug me. I need to start measuring things. I don’t do that and I don’t like doing it, but I know that I have no sense any longer of what a serving size is. I’m not going to bother for things like my dinner serving of meat and veggies—for that I figure I can eat as much as I like, as it’s not much of a temptation. Where I get into trouble is with snack things, like ¼ cup of nuts or a tablespoon of peanut butter. When I attempt to eyeball it, I go way over what I mean to have, and that’s a source of a lot of ‘hidden’ calories and carbs for me.

So, there you have it. My past week and plans for the coming week in a big, wordy nutshell.

Happy Sunday!