Changes to the Blog

(**This is a cross-post with the other blog - apologies if you're reading it twice)

Early this morning, I awoke out of a dead sleep... thinking about the blog. There have been rumblings brewing lately of closing up my bike blog and calling it done, but I've hesitated because I don't feel as though I'm ready to say "that's all folks." When I woke up suddenly before the sun had even an idea of coming up over the horizon, I had an idea and I think it's the best solution for me at this point in time.

Image source here

The blog here was originally intentionally separated from the bike blog because it focuses primarily on my weight loss journey, getting stronger, and various aspects of things related to health and fitness. I wanted a separate space initially for many reasons. First, I didn't want to bother those who come to the bike blog only to read about bicycles and various cycling related topics. Secondly, when it comes to the weight loss/fitness aspect of my life, I tend to be a bit more (okay, maybe far more) whiny and self-deprecating than when discussing bikes. Finally, in many respects, I simply didn't know how to combine two areas of my life without it seeming odd.

In the wee hours of the morning, however, I came to the conclusion that both blogs are suffering. While some people are able to maintain many separate blogs and keep them all updated on a somewhat regular basis, I am apparently not one of those folks. Everything ends up suffering in the end, and I don't write anything anywhere for long stretches of time, or I only seem to focus on one or the other.

The solution in my mind is simply to combine the two blogs. Unfortunately, for some that means that there will be personally irrelevant topics posted here at times, but at this juncture, it is the only solution that makes sense to me.  The changes will be taking place as soon as possible over the next several days.

So, what will you find now? I'll still be posting about weight loss, struggles, fitness, and so on, but I also intend to have posts about bicycles and cycling related adventures. I appreciate that some readers may part ways here, but my hope is that there will be overlap permitting readers to find something of interest here, and also allow me to focus once again on something that I enjoy doing - sharing the adventure of life.

If this is where we part ways, I just want to thank you for taking the time to check in and read here.  All of the topics posted in the past will remain in place for those who may find a tidbit of useful or helpful information. To get to the "new" space for this blog, please click here. I look forward to what is coming and being able to continue to share with those who have interest. This blog will remain up for a short time, but ultimately will be taken down as the posts have been combined with the other blog.

Giving Up the Scale and the "Goal"

From the start of this journey in early March, my goal has been to lose at least 75 lbs by the end of the year. I seem to go through long stretches of playing with a couple of pounds at a time and it's seemed as though it might not be possible. Over the last few days, I've managed to gain 5 lbs. Nothing has changed. I'm still tracking what I eat, working out hard, but somehow these five pounds have mysteriously made an appearance.

While I know it's possible to lose the 14 pounds I need to by the end of the year, I question the plausibility of it.  Six and a half weeks isn't much time, and with both Thanksgiving and Christmas looming, along with all the fabulousness of food during the next several weeks, I'm a bit terrified of what I'm in for to make it to "the goal." While I can control our meals on the particular holidays, it doesn't seem to stop others from stopping by with sweet treats or other holiday time goodies. Beyond others, I always feel the obligation to make my own sweets, and although I generally don't eat what I bake, who knows what might overcome me in a moment of weakness? I've tried to remind myself that it's all part of integrating better habits into daily life, but the other side of me wonders if the holiday season will be my downfall. I can't help but continue to wait for the day when I finally decide to give up.

As I've been pondering all of this over the last week or so, I've also decided that I cannot deal with the stresses of a scale right now. I find myself weighing multiple times in a day, trying to notice trends and while I only "count" my morning weigh in, this process is messing with my head. So, this morning I asked one of my kickboxing instructors to take the scale away - for at least a month. This time of year is incredibly taxing on me (emotionally) as it is for many others, and I just don't need the added stress of figuring out why I gained a pound on such and such day and then lost on another. I'm hoping that not having the stress of the scale to contend with will put me more at ease and focus me on what really matters - what is going into and out of my body.

450 Push-ups

What does one do in the middle of a cold, snowy Sunday afternoon? Why 450 push-ups, of course! Perhaps a bit of back story is in order first though.

I could totally look like her, right? Okay, maybe not.

I have had a rough few weeks with focusing on working out. I've gone to all the kickboxing classes, and on the surface it seems as though I'm continuing on with my grand plan, but I know that I've not been doing my best. I've requested a kick in the rear from my instructors, but I also know that they are nice people and probably won't be too keen on the idea, but I knew I needed something to get me back in the game.

So, this afternoon I decided I was going to see how many push-ups I could do. At the start, my back was in pain and I figured I might not make it very far, but the stubborn girl within broke through and I was determined to do at least 200. When I got to 200, I decided 300 was possible, and so on. At 450, I knew that I needed to stop, even though a part of me wanted to continue on. Unfortunately, I do have to function tomorrow, so I called it quits, but I was so excited to be able to accomplish such a goal. This, from the woman who just 8 months ago couldn't do 5 push-ups (really, I couldn't do one, if I'm honest). So crazy what half a year can do for a person!!

Discouraged and Drained

Today, I am completely drained. I feel beat up: mentally and physically. Next Saturday is belt testing in kickboxing and it will be my sixth month in a row to test. Now, it may not seem like a big deal, but for most people, one belt takes anywhere from two (if they go frequently) to six months (if they're more of a "couple of times a week" sort of participant) to complete. That should help to better define how many classes I'm going to every week, and why it is that I'm so tired. Generally, this schedule doesn't kill me (it's tough, but I make it through), but it seems the last couple of weeks have been extra difficult in that the instructors seem to want to put everyone in the class into a state of complete exhaustion. They have each asked me to do things that I am not physically able to do, and it's causing me to re-evaluate why it is I'm in such a hurry to get to the next level.

Put simply, my body hasn't had enough time to catch up to the level I should be for a given belt and it's frustrating me. As much as I want to will my body to do the things I want it to do, it just doesn't seem to want to cooperate, and I can't say I blame it. I'm asking a lot of it. Two kickboxing classes a day, riding my bike, the occasional gym visit - it all adds up; yet, my weight loss isn't on par with the amount of work I put in. The reality is that I have a lot of extra weight and asking my body to do these things repeatedly, day after day, week after week, and month after month is taking its toll. The last couple of weeks have reminded me that I am still the fat girl, and as much as I don't want to be that person, I can't seem to escape that reality.

I've started to wonder if this is just what I will be for the rest of my life. Perhaps I will never have anything even remotely close to a normal body weight? Those fears cause even more anxiety because I find myself wondering why one would push herself so hard if this is all there is for me to achieve. I suppose I'm just tired of being the fat girl. I don't want to be the biggest person in my classes. I don't want to be the biggest person in any given room. Living in the supposed "fittest" state in the U.S. doesn't really help matters because I'm surrounded my health nuts. There are plenty of overweight folks, so don't let the statistics fool anyone, but there is the reality looming that I am fatter than almost anyone here.

What is my point? In summary:
1. I'm fat. As much as I've lost weight, there is so much more to go.
2. I'm slow. I don't lose weight quickly, and I seem to be slow catching up athletically/fitness-wise as well.
3. I'm discouraged. Being unable to keep up during kickboxing classes makes me fear even more the belt tests... not to mention, that I've been playing with the same couple of pounds for three weeks.

Although I realize these feeling will pass, and I will hopefully feel more capable as the days roll by, it's such a horrible place to find oneself - trapped in my own thoughts and feelings.

Fatty, Fatty, Two by Four...

I looked in the mirror today and saw all the blubber still surrounding my body parts. I have to admit, it's a bit discouraging to lose a good chunk of weight and know that there is still so much more that needs to come off. Truly, 60+ pounds off of my body is nothing to sneeze at, but when I sit down and still have a belly or the side fat sticks between my ribs and arms, or I get a good glimpse of the side-knee fat, well, let's just say it reminds me that I can never give up.

Before all of this, however, over the weekend Sam informed me that I looked like a bag lady. I was wearing old clothes that I've had for awhile and just can't seem to let go of for the time being.  I laughed because it's funny, but at the same time, I know there is a part of me that fears giving up old clothes. After all, I've never had a point in life that I didn't gain the weight back. Why would this time be any different? There are reasons for it to have a different outcome this time, but it's tough to admit that when all I've known is defeat in the past. I don't want to have a negative outlook about all of this, but when people tell me to "visualize" what I will be in the future, I don't even know where to go with that thought. I often picture someone else who has a body I'd hope to have. Let's face it, when one has never been a normal body weight, how can one have an image of what it will be at some arbitrary point in the future?

This is the "bag lady" ensemble for the day (apologies for the fuzzy photo).

Yep, I actually fit in one leg of the pants... kinda crazy... mind you, they weren't tight before, but still.

So, after all of this, I decided that I needed to continue my quest to find some cold weather clothes. I haven't wanted to do a lot of shopping these days (partially because we don't really have the money to spend, but also because it's so awful to try a bunch of items on and have nothing fit right), but I went ahead with the plan. I was determined to find at least one pair of jeans that would fit and a couple of sweaters. I don't need a closet full of clothes right now, but I don't always want to feel frumpy either. Wonder of all wonders, I actually found jeans that worked. They're a bit snug, but I figure it's a better way to go right now than to buy them at a good fitting point and then they're too big in a couple of months (or at least, that is the hope). The jeans I purchased were 5 sizes smaller than the ones I'd been wearing. Holy cow.

One of the pairs of jeans I tried out... the legs seem to be snug no matter what size I try.

It was exciting to be able to buy something many sizes smaller, but it was also a reminder that I don't want to ever go back to where I've been...and, that I have a very long way to go. I took some time yesterday to clean out the closet (again). Since I don't want to go back to where I've been, there's no reason to hang on to old clothes. Sure, I kept a couple of items just to remind myself of what I have done to my body in the past, but I've vowed that I will continue to work towards becoming a better me. I can't promise the "bag lady" outfits won't be seen/worn over the next few months, but at least I know they don't fit like a glove as they once did, and if things are fitting tightly, it's just more incentive to try to get the weight off so they will feel loose again. But, even as I type that, the demons pop into my head reminding me that this may be it - that this may be all the weight I can lose - or that I will in fact return to my former state rather than losing more. These are the days when I wonder if those demons will ever let me be, or if I'm destined to spend a lifetime doubting myself and what I am capable of doing.

"Fatty, fatty, two by four,

Can't get through the kitchen door,

When the door begins to shake,

Fatty got a belly ache!"

How Fast is Too Fast?

I find myself having these days during which I really don't want to hear or read about other peoples success stories with weight loss. I've started to think that there's something wrong with me, but I find that often times these stories just make me angry. I don't begrudge anyone weight loss by any stretch of the imagination, but I find the ways in which they go about losing are often not in their best interest. Mind you, this comes from a fat person, so it's not as though I have any room to judge, but it just seems as though when someone drops 115 pounds in 6 months (just read this one in the last week), something incredibly drastic was done. As in, the individual has cut their diet so dramatically that it isn't maintainable for life, and I fear for them. Perhaps it's because I've been that person (well, I've never lost that much weight, but I've been in a similar mindset of "just eat less"), and it scares me when I read these stories. I look at people like those on The Biggest Loser, and see that so many of them regain the weight they've lost, and I can't help but believe it's because it happened entirely too fast.

Do our minds have time to adjust when we drop a person off of our bodies in a matter of months? I have to think it takes time for our minds to catch up to our bodies, and when we take these extreme measures to lose, I don't personally know if my mind would have the opportunity to understand what had happened.  I've been on this present mission for about 7 1/2 months, and I'm down just over 60 pounds (at least for today). It's not super fast, but it's also not that slow. Even at this speed I find that my mind struggles with changes. In my day to day life, I don't notice the loss at all. Sure, every once in awhile I think, "Hey, that fat roll seems smaller!" or I get excited about some garment of clothing that used to be tight but is now nearly falling off, but honestly it's difficult to understand that anything has changed. I see photos of myself and think that I look the same. I can see small changes in my face (as I've pointed out recently), but really I don't think my brain has even come close to comprehending what is taking place.

I don't have to see my fat face in this one, but it's almost worse from the back side...and this isn't even the worst of the pics this particular day.

Perhaps there aren't changes other than a little fat loss in the face? Maybe it's just that I'm around very average-to-thin sized people on a regular basis and I know that I will likely never even be of "average" size, sad as that is to say, so I will always feel like the fat person in the room? I wish I could wrap my head around it and finally understand once and for all why nothing seems to change.

In all of this though, I realize that so many people are so focused on losing weight that they neglect working on muscle as they lose. Sure, I may not see pounds drop quickly, but I'm also working on building muscle at the same time. Those arms? Yeah, they may still look fat, but I assure you, if you gave them a squeeze, there is solid muscle forming. The thighs? Sure, they still have lots of fat to lose, but they've gained a lot of muscle mass too while training. Abs? Yep, there's still a bunch of fat there, but I can feel the muscle wall through that fat. There is no way that I could've lost 100 pounds in half a year and gained muscle at the same time. So, while I have my moments of anger or jealousy when reading stories about the quick weight loss of others, overall I feel a little sadness for those who are in such a hurry to see the pounds go because I can't help but think that they're going to see those lbs return over the long haul. While I want to see the pounds go too, I'm okay knowing that I'm gaining muscle, and some day I will say goodbye to the excess weight as well.

Trapped

It's been an interesting week or so here in our household. We've had family visiting from out of town, we have both fallen ill to this nasty local flu that seems to be spreading like wildfire, and I'm in the middle of a project that involves a slew of people coming by the house at random times of the day. Needless to say, I've found myself pretty well locked to the house, and it hasn't been the greatest. I always think that I'm a homebody and that just staying here throughout the day wouldn't be so horrible, but it turns out, I leave quite a bit more often than I imagined. For example, I often run to the post office to drop off packages or mail, I run to the art supply store to grab a color I'm missing in my paint tubes, or perhaps even a quick trip to a home improvement store to pick up some item for a household project. Most of the time, I get to perform these chores by bike, and I love it.

My bike time is "clearing my head" time and I have found myself a bit crankier than normal about everyday occurrences in life. I often wonder during these times if my bad behavior is justified or if I'm just overly sensitive to things because I don't have as much time to be outside. With winter closing in on us, I know my bike time is going to decrease yet again. While I don't mind riding in the cold, I've yet to get over my fear of ice on the roads while riding, so I'm certain that as soon as the snow hits, I'll be back to experiencing theses sorts of feelings.

Image found here

All of this has caused me to consider the days not so long ago when I would perhaps avoid riding my bike when possible. It's not that I didn't want to ride my bike, but there were days when I know I would make the excuse to drive simply because I didn't feel like taking the bike out. While I think it's perfectly acceptable to take the car when needed, my preference is always to bike when possible because I get to experience things such as the changing seasons, the daylight coming and going, and even the cranky drivers are less irritating (and often less irritable in the winter months - though not always) when on a bicycle. I find myself thinking that perhaps these flimsy excuses I've used only added to my weight gain over the last several years.

I hope that I am making changes in all areas of my life with this journey, and while they may not always be positive, I hope that I never feel trapped in my life. I know people who have made considerable life changes during or after losing a good chunk of weight, and I hope that I can keep my sensibilities and know the difference between positive and negative energy in my life.

Face Changes

Today, while looking for some progress pictures of Sam, I happened upon some photos of myself that were not so fabulous. It's funny to me the feelings I had just a few months ago about seeing images of just my face, let alone a full body shot. While I still don't enjoy seeing photos of myself, I remember a very specific photo that I took in January of this year. I had been trying to find ways to get better angles with the camera so as to avoid looking overly fat. Let's face it though, when a person is fat, s/he is fat, and there's no hiding it.

This isn't the photo I was so upset about, but it's an interesting comparison as well.

On this January day, I decided that I was just going to take as straight on a photo as I could without too much adjusting to simply see what I looked like. The result? I wasn't happy.  I realized that I was becoming quite a behemoth individual and truly didn't like it. That said, I also didn't seem ready to take those feelings and do anything about it. Sure, I signed up for an online tracking system, but I wasn't using it. It was as though I was taking the first steps, but I just couldn't seem to commit to anything quite yet.

So, on to the photo. I specifically remember this photo because I was alone, at home, feeling pretty crappy about myself and just had to see - for the first time in a long time - what I had been doing to myself. I have far worse photos of myself, but something about this one just made me cry. I felt like a huge, round bowling ball. How could I have let this happen? I'm not sure... but I did. Then, yesterday, I was out working in my studio and took a picture of myself (actually because I was testing out the camera phone to see what it looked like - I'm in the process of documenting some things). As grumpy as I looked (and felt), it's as though my face got longer somehow. No more round head... it's sort of oval-ish now.

There is hope... some day, it will be even better - I hope!

All of this to say that I'm making progress. It doesn't always show up on the scale, but I'll take the small victories where I can get them. I feel better now, and that's what really matters.

Trying to Find My Way

The last week (or so) has been mentally rough on me (as is evidenced by my incredibly ranting posts). I've been doubting everything and trying to figure out why I can't just exist in a day without drama. I'm slowly working through all of it, thankfully, but it's been an excellent reminder that losing weight isn't really about losing weight. Of course, it is about losing weight in that the whole reason for setting about this journey is to see the scale dropping, but the reality is that there is so much more to uncover about myself that has nothing to do with the weight.

I was speaking with a friend the other day and she made a comment that brought some things to light. I realized that I do focus entirely too much (despite what I want to believe) on the weight loss itself and not on what I should be focused on... figuring out why the weight came on in the first place. Mind you, I've never been a small person, even as a child, and I realize that I will not ever be; however, there must be some kind of reason that as an adult I would allow myself to get to this point.

*Image here
My dream was far less human-dominant, and much more bear-winning-the-fight

No answers have made themselves apparent to me as of yet, but I know that it's far more important to be aware of the "why am I doing this," than the "why isn't the weight coming off faster" question. I am definitely fighting something, or there is a moment of clarity about to happen because I've found myself in several emotional moments over the last few days during which I cannot stop crying. That has been followed for the last two evenings by the craziest dreams... last night, included fighting (by hand) with a giant bear. Gotta love dreams and there very easy to interpret meanings.

In the meantime, I am attempting to keep some perspective on life and this journey.  I have too many other things to focus on to get so absorbed in what is or isn't happening with my body.

**Edited to add: I looked up "dreaming about fighting with a bear" just to see what would come up, and this is what I found: "Dreaming about bears is fairly uncommon. To see a bear in your dream symbolizes independence, the cycle of life, death and renewal. You are undergoing a period of introspection and thinking. To dream that you are being pursued or attacked by a bear, denotes aggression, overwhelming obstacles, and competition." - Source here

Three Pound Gain - WTF?

This morning, I awoke to a 2 pound gain, which was preceded yesterday by a 1 pound gain. I really don't know what's going on, but it definitely displeases me. It's also highly demotivating to spend the week working hard, doing what I should be doing and then see the scale go up. It seems that every time this happens and I mention it to someone the response is, "Oh, well you're just gaining muscle." Um, no. I'm not gaining muscle - especially not over the course of two days. I understand that in the beginning of a new activity there are often no losses or even small gains due to muscles retaining water and trying to rebuild, but it's ludicrous at this point to see that much gain - virtually over night.

*Image found here

I want to be the strong person and continue to tell myself that this is just how it goes and that it's all just part of the process. I want to be able to give myself the same canned responses that I hear from everyone else like, "Oh, it will come off. It's just temporary water weight." But, the reality is that I just want to sit here and cry. It took weeks to get off those three pounds, and then they can somehow come on in two days. I can feel the weight on my body. I feel fatter and slower, and while I understand that it's likely not possible to actually notice those three pounds being added on, somehow my brain believes that it is capable of sensing that difference. These are the days when I wish for the "magic formula" so that I would know what to do. These are also the days that lead me to want to give up (or at least have in the past). I feel deflated, discouraged, and unsure of the decisions I'm making.

My goal through this has been to eat well, but not tell myself that I cannot have something if I want it. In doing so, I understood that the losses would be slower, but hopefully more permanent. I record food daily, no matter what I eat, and I can say that I definitely haven't been over my usual calorie range. Last night, I was pondering the idea of simply going back to eating less - a lot less - so that the weight will come off faster. There is a part of me that wants to do it that way because my personal history has shown me that it will work... at least temporarily. But, the reality is that I know I cannot sustain it, and therefore it isn't really a tool that I should utilize at this juncture.

So, for now I have resigned myself to just feeling this three pound gain and trying to remind myself that three pounds is a lot easier to lose than fifty. I have to stay the course, regardless of my current desire to skip kickboxing and go back to bed. Hopefully, the kickboxing will at least make me feel better rather than worse.

What Does an Athlete Look Like?

Tomorrow will be the fourth month in a row that I'm testing in kickboxing. There are those who think that I shouldn't be testing this quickly (myself included, at times) between belts, but I have to admit that the challenge of doing so definitely keeps me motivated, and striving to become a better me. At some point, this will no longer be possible as I will need too many classes to test each month, but in the meantime, I find myself debating whether or not it's a worthwhile cause to continue to do the tests each month for as long as I can. As I have mentally debated this over the past several weeks, I've often thought that there is no real reason for me to be pushing myself like this. What is it that's spurring me to action, exactly?

As I've been pondering this very idea, Sam brought to my attention something that I found odd, but intriguing. We were discussing the hang up that I have about the "6 month time frame" with losing weight and working out. I'm always fearful during the 6-8 month marker because in the past (as I've mentioned before) it is the point at which I generally give up and go back to my old ways. We were discussing how things feel different this time because it's not a "diet" that I am doing, and there's nothing to "go off of." I've viewed this as a change in life that's maintainable - which was the whole purpose. Still, I have my doubts because when one is crossing into unknown territory, it can be frightening - even if I'm aware of what can and has happened in the past. As we were having this discussion, Sam uttered something in the middle of a thought that stuck with me. He said, "Well, you're an athlete now." I laugh just typing it, and I laughed aloud when he said it while we were chatting.

I'm not an athlete. I've never been an athlete. I'm uncoordinated, unskilled, clumsy, awkward (at times), have always been picked last for every sport I've ever played - not to mention being overweight and the limitations that brings. But, the thought stuck with me, and I pondered it a bit more. An athlete? Me? I suppose it's possible. I train several hours a day, I'm often healing some sort of "war wound" from training, I'm aware of when, what, and how often I'm eating, and I have goals for myself. I'm becoming better at the things I'm doing, and finding ways to challenge myself. Is it possible? Am I turning into an athlete? I honestly don't even know what to do with that thought. I'm not the athlete... I'm the fat girl, who's not good at sports. The latter title seems much easier to accept than the former, and I'm trying to determine why.

The eternal optimist when it comes to others, I find the stark opposite to be the truth when it comes to myself. I am happy to cheer on others, and know full well that they are capable of anything they put their mind to doing, but I can't seem to believe the same for myself.  It's not as though this is restricted to the current situation either because it runs across all areas of life. I doubt everything I do and expect that what I'm doing is never good enough to call myself "fill_in_the_blank." I'm not an athlete, I'm not an artist, I'm not strong, I'm not a cyclist.  It's as though I have some kind of never-achievable idea of what it is I should be in order to call myself by whatever title. But, the reality is that I am all of these things, and the only one who doesn't yet believe it ... is me.

Some day though... one day, I will know that I am an athlete and I'll have the confidence to proclaim it out loud.

Rules of Narcissism

I sincerely believe I am turning into a complete narcissist - or, at least it appears to superficially be the case for me these days. I'm still struggling to see changes in my own body, and while others tell me that I have changed, I don't know why it's so difficult to find them. I take pictures of myself constantly (okay, not constantly, but quite often) in hopes of seeing what others are seeing, and find myself trying to locate pictures from the end of last year/beginning of this year in hopes of making comparisons. The reality is that my measurements haven't really changed, other than losing a fairly sizable chunk out of my chest, so I don't understand what others are seeing. Sometimes, I wonder if they are just telling me I've changed to make me feel better. After all, losing over 50 lbs is a big chunk of weight, and one would think that changes would be evident. Perhaps folks just expect that there should be changes? A sort of preconceived idea of the outcome? I'm not entirely sure.

I put these two phone-photos side by side to take a look for myself.  My head appears to be a slightly different shape now, my glasses seem bigger (no idea why), and my lips seem smaller (is this the aging process... could 6 months do this to me?). I do notice that the triple chin is now down to a double, which is nice, but beyond a few minor shifts, things seem to be about the same.

Although perhaps calling myself a narcissist is a bit extreme, I do think there is a level of the illness present. There are moments when I completely absorb/recoil/etc into self and focus so completely on me that I fear I am neglecting things that I should be taking care of instead. I suppose it is the way with anyone who is trying to make changes, and it would be impossible to not have the desire to see the differences for ones self - or, perhaps I am just trying to convince myself that my self-absorbed behavior is acceptable.

Excuses

I was thinking today about excuses that people make (including myself). Excuses to not exercise, excuses to not watch what I'm eating, excuses to not pursue dreams. Excuses come in many forms - everything from jobs, to kids, to not having energy. Part of excuses for me personally is to hide from others. Typically, I'm not one to share a lot of personal information with people. I tend to give superficial information so that it seems as though I'm providing others a glimpse into my life, but without details no one has the opportunity to get too close or to potentially bring me harm. I've become quite good at it over the course of my life, and it never ceases to amaze me how people think they know me, when in fact they know very little about my life (or at least, nothing of significance). I do this quite intentionally. I have learned in adulthood that people aren't the way we were as kids. They don't just show up one day out of nowhere and become your friend. They don't love unconditionally. They don't really care about me or what's happening in my life. I don't mean that to sound like a giant pity party, but more so that it's just a reality of being an adult. We have other things that occupy our time - friends we've had since childhood, perhaps children and their activities, spouses, occupations, hobbies, and so on. Why would we want to bring new people into our circle?

*Image from Pinterest

But, back to excuses... Before I started this journey, I used to say that there was no hope of me losing weight - that I'm genetically predisposed to be fat, so why bother doing anything about it? Even given the fact that my entire family is overweight/obese, I don't think this is an excuse to not be healthy. Sure, I will never be a person who is tiny, but it doesn't mean that I can't be the healthiest person I can be. I find myself becoming very angry when I don't lose weight, and I think part of that is because I know how hard I work every day to see it come off, and it doesn't seem "fair" that while I can easily gain 10 pounds in a week, it will take about 4-10 weeks to get that same 10 pounds off of my body. Working out 2-3 hours a day, 5-6 days a week, it becomes aggravating to not have steady progress. Regardless though, it is progress. It might be slow - but it's progress nonetheless. I know my body pretty well, and I know that weight loss, if done correctly, is always slow for me. Slowness is also not an excuse to give up.

It would be easy to go on with the number of excuses available to use, but the reality is that as the saying goes, if you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always got. I am not willing to accept what the past has brought into my life, and the only way to fix that is to change what I have done while moving forward.

Tough Days Come and Go

I'm having a bit of a rough day (mentally) today.  While all of the working out and changing of life seems to be moving forward in a positive direction, I just seem to be having one of those days (several days, actually) during which I am clinging to nuances of unimportant matters. I keep reliving moments, things I've said/not said/should've said/should not have said/etc, and it's making me a bit batty. I'm not sleeping well, and I think it's affecting my general well-being.

*Image from Pinterest

I'm particularly concerned about my mental state because this is typically the point in my losing weight/getting fit journey when I tend to get lazy, or assume that I know what I'm doing and stop logging things or ease up on working out. I don't want that to be the pattern for my life, and I'm trying to very purposefully keep myself motivated and aware of what and how I'm reacting to things. I don't know it all, I obviously have not yet fixed what is broken (and may never fix it, frankly), and I need to keep in a positive frame of mind. Through it all, I realize that there will be good and bad days, and this is all just part of life and this journey. Hopefully, I will pull out of this funk soon and get back in a better state of mind.

50 Pounds Lost {Happy Dance!}

For the last few weeks, I have been fighting with the same few pounds. Up and down, up and down. I desperately wanted to reach the 50 pounds lost mile marker on the first of this month, but it just didn't happen. A few days later though... here I am! While it wasn't the easiest thing to accomplish, it did happen, and I continue to remind myself that this is a life-long change, and if it comes off slower than I'd prefer, I'm really okay with that reality. However, this was a major mile-marker I wanted to reach, and while it seems arbitrary to pick a number out of the sky, when I first started, I believed that when I reached this point, I would really feel as though I was doing what I had set out to do.

*Image from Pinterest

And you know, I do feel like I'm doing what I should be doing. There are rough days when I question everything, but honestly, I don't know what I would change. I know that my daily weight will fluctuate, and it will likely go back up before it comes back down, but to be able to reach this 50 pound marker is amazing to me.

That said, I'm also a bit terrified of reaching this point. It's been almost exactly 6 months (just a few days shy, actually) since I began this journey, and it's also the time marker at which I start to give up on myself historically. When I start to have excitement about losses, I start slacking in areas, thinking that I have everything under control. Logically, I know I don't have it under control, and I have to continue to track everything, work out, and realize that this is a forever change, not a short term "fix." Six months, is generally the point when I start to gain again - and I don't want that to be the reality with this go at it. The benefit to me during this round is that I'm aware of what happens to me at about this point in the journey, and hopefully I can nip it early and just keep moving forward. The other benefit is that I'm not starving myself as I normally would, and I've truly tried to make this a lifestyle change.

I'm so happy to have reached this marker, and I look forward to moving on to the next one. The next goal? I'm not quite sure just yet. I don't know if I want to set a long term weight loss goal at this point because it takes me a bit of time and it can become discouraging, but perhaps I will just focus on the next 5-10 pounds and see where it takes me before focusing on another huge chunk of weight. For now, I'm enjoying this moment and acknowledging that I am capable of anything I set my mind to do.

Several Weeks of Maintaining and a Heart Rate Monitor Distraction

I'm currently having flash backs of my 10 week struggle to get beyond the 20-something pounds lost mark. I've been hovering in the 40-something pounds lost for several weeks now, and quite frankly, I'm getting annoyed. I really don't think I'm impatient about losing, and I work really, really hard every day to work this chubby rear off, but something in my body just doesn't want to cooperate at all. I've tested various theories - not eating enough, eating too much, not eating the "right" foods, etc - but nothing seems to help facilitate the process. Because of this frustration (or perhaps more as a distraction), I decided to try again with a heart rate monitor. I'd been pondering picking one up for a bit, and we happened to be at an REI garage sale where I was able to get one for under $30. This morning, I tested it out at the gym.

Goodness knows I haven't been to the gym in quite awhile because I've been amusing myself with kickboxing and cycling so frequently, but I figured it was a good place to test it out. By the time I'd finished my 45 minute sweat-fest on the ARC machine (it's basically a combination of an elliptical and stair climber), I was drenched head-to-toe, and according to the monitor, had burned 477 calories. Really? My online logger claims that I "should" have burned 871 calories, while the machine itself at the gym stated that it was 794 calories burned. Can it really be that off, and what is more accurate?

Here's what I've read online:

"Calorie burning isn't determined by heart rate, it's determined by the number of muscle cells that are activated to perform a given activity. It's the working cells that actually use the energy (calories) and consume oxygen. When working muscle cells need more energy and oxygen, your heart rate goes up to deliver these things to the cells via the blood stream"

So, what is this telling me exactly? I understand that the number of muscle cells used to perform an activity are important, and this is a machine that uses major muscles, but yet the calories burned seems off. How do I know what to believe though, and how can these numbers be SO different? I don't mind seeing that the number burned is lower, but I also want to know that it's accurate - otherwise, there's no real point to wearing the darn HRM. I've also looked into "power meters" as many claim that it's the only way to get a more accurate reading of calorie expenditure.

Although I'm not entirely sure where this is taking me, or if it will be of benefit over the long haul, it's been a fun little distraction to see what I'm capable of doing, and the rates at which I expend energy. Now, if I can just get out of this rut with weight loss, I'll be a happy little camper.

New Goals

Today, I am one definitely exhausted human. I finished the 51 mile ride for Venus de Miles on Sunday, and all went well. If you'd like to read more about it, please see my post here. It was actually a good ride, and I was very glad that I went ahead and did it... and now, on to the next challenge. The next challenge already has me tired and worn out, and I'm only two days into it.

Last night in kickboxing, the instructor made some kind of reference to the idea that at least he wouldn't have me testing again in September for a new belt. After having tested three months consecutively, he presumed, I'm sure, that it would take me at least two months for the next one. Wrong. After he made his comment, I told him that it was on and just for that, I was going to prove that I could do it again this month. The problem, however, is that there are a few things standing in my way.
1) I only have four weeks to complete 32 classes. Classes are offered twice a day, 4 days a week, and once a day two days a week (being closed on Sunday's). However, I cannot attend one of those days due to scheduling conflicts.
2) I don't do mornings... at least not early mornings, and two days a week, there is an early morning class at 6:15a. As I said, I don't do mornings. This could be a problem.
3) The studio is going to be closed for three classes this upcoming weekend, putting me even further behind.
So, basically, I have to attend every class I'm able to in order to make it in time for testing. After my first early morning class today, I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to make it to the end of these four weeks. Ugh. What have I gotten myself into?

If I can get used to the slightly earlier rising time, I think I'll be okay, but as of this moment in time, I am so tired I'm not sure I can function for the remainder of the day. I had better get it together if this is my grand plan, certainly. Here's to doing things that push our limits! Hopefully, I make it through.

Why Can't Pants Fit Properly?

On my way home this afternoon, I had to stop and pick up a tool. Since I was already out and about, and the pants I had on were sagging quite badly, I decided that I would make a couple of stops to see if I could find one pair of pants (anywhere from low knee to high ankle length) to replace them for the rest of the warmer months this year.  I'm tired of constantly having to pull my pants up, and while I don't really want to invest in more clothes while I'm trying to lose weight, I also understand that it will be quite embarrassing the day that they actually fall down.

*Image here

So, off to a few stores I went - full of high hopes, and with the belief that I'd be able (obviously, since the ones I was wearing were nearly falling off) to find a new pair in a size smaller. Silly, silly woman! How wrong I was to think such things.

While I realize that people have different body shapes and types, I cannot for the life of me figure out why pants cannot be made to fit properly. I am aware that there are a couple of manufacturers out there now making jeans and other pants in 3 distinct shapes, but what about other pants... like capris, shorts, etc? These still have the same problem as far as I'm concerned, and while I am aware that we are hitting the end of summer, the reality is that we have several more weeks, if not months, of warmer weather - and honestly, I'd prefer not to be wearing heavy jeans if I can avoid them.

I tried pants on in the same size as the current pants as well as the next size down, and two sizes down, and none of them would fit. The pants I found were either so tight that I couldn't even begin to pull them all the way up, or they were enormously huge in the waist and tight everywhere else. Who in the world are these pants made for? Obviously, not the freak body I'm apparently carrying around. I never thought my body was so misshapen, but apparently it is. I know I have large legs, but I just cannot believe that I couldn't find a single pair that came close to fitting properly.

I'm chalking it up to a bad day to attempt shopping, but to try three different stores, and many different sizes and not find a single thing that fit... let's just say, it's not exactly doing any favors for my self-esteem. {sigh}

The Week in Brief Review

I had a really cool little moment this morning, but first, I will go back to discuss the last week or so of happenings.  I have been doing my double ups on kickboxing, and getting in training rides for the event next weekend, and it's been exhausting... good, but very tiring. I find that I like working hard, pushing myself, and just trying to see what I can ultimately accomplish. However, at some point my body becomes uncooperative, which I suppose is to be expected. I am slowly learning to allow my body to rest once in awhile, as I know that nothing good comes from constantly pushing without allowing recovery. I think the extra pushing comes in when I have too many things that I want to get done in a short period of time, but I also think that over a short term period, it won't kill me to work a little harder than normal.

Throughout this past week, I have realized that I am so much stronger than I was six months ago - heck, even 3-4 months ago - so much stronger. At the beginning of this year, I would have stated that I did plenty physically; even knowing that it wasn't true. I enjoy the moments when I believe that I cannot go any more, and then somehow manage to do it. It makes me wonder where the ultimate limits actually are for me. Are there limits at all? Perhaps only in my mind.  I was able to get in some longer rides this week, which was important to me because I am concerned about a 51 mile ride, knowing that my wrists have a difficult time in the saddle. I rode 41 miles yesterday (the longest ride I've done in quite some time, actually), and just allowed myself to take a few minute stop every 8-10 miles. It seemed to do the trick with helping to keep my hands from completely dying. I did it without gloves, but I am considering wearing or at least taking some to help out with the situation next Sunday.

*Image found here

As for weight loss... it is back to being uncooperative, but I believe it will ultimately have no choice but to come off. I am doing my best not to concern myself with the daily losses/gains, but rather focus on what I'm doing to make me stronger overall. That is really all that I have control over. I am learning more and more that it's not just how much of something or the number of calories in the food that is important, but what my body can actually use from those calories. I knew that it was important before, but I think with all that I'm trying to do physically right now, I am becoming more aware of the importance of the type of fuel being put in.

After saying that, I will share that I went to bed last night desperately wanting pancakes and bacon. Mind you, I am not much of a meat eater (and honestly, I don't even remember the last time I ate pancakes either), but after the ride yesterday and doing kickboxing, I just wanted something horribly fatty.  When we woke up, I was so hungry and still wanting this food that I knew wouldn't be of any real benefit to my body. So, I caved and we went out for breakfast. As we sat down, I was glancing outside and saw a woman I know who I haven't seen since the end of last year. I told Sam I needed to run out and say hello. As I got outside and waved at her, she kind of looked at me as though she was a tad confused, but after a brief moment, waved back. She said, "Oh my goodness! You look amazing - just wonderful!! What have you been doing?" I have to say, it felt great to know that someone could see the difference in me physically over the past several months, particularly when I don't always see it myself.

All in all, it's been a productive week, and I am finding some calmness about the upcoming ride. There's no reason to worry about it because it will be what it is, and fretting about it beforehand isn't bringing anything of value to my life.

Two Weeks Until Venus de Miles

Exactly two weeks from today, I will be well on my way in the Venus de Miles ride. Today, however, I am taking my first day of complete rest since July 8 (that's 34 days, if anyone's keeping track), and I have to say, it feels great to do nothing. I think I almost forgot what it is like to know that nothing needs to be accomplished today (well, at least as far as working out is concerned). I am taking this day to plan out the next two weeks of training and exercise though, because I don't want to wear myself out right before the ride, nor do I want to be lacking in energy. Still, I got a late start in training, so I need to find time to get in some long rides, and I still plan on doing kickboxing belt testing this month as well. Unfortunately, that testing falls the day right before the ride, so I'll need to figure out how that factors in to training for the next couple of weeks.

Find the fatty in the photo... Riding the Venus de Miles in 2010

For some reason, I have a lot of anxiety before this ride. There are so many things that run through my head. My biggest concern is always my hands. I know they are always the first thing to give out simply because of injuries to them, and I know that I will have to stop frequently if I intend to make it the 51 miles. I've never rode 51 miles in a single ride, and it's scary to think that I may not make it to the end. My second concern is in regard to climbing in the mountains. I don't climb (certainly not well anyway), although I have pretty much put my mind at ease about this by reassuring myself that I can either walk if necessary, or simply pedal very slowly. It's not the end of the world though if I have to get off and walk.

Find the fatty #2... Riding Venus de Miles 2011

Another worry is one that is complete vanity. Every year I end up being in some kind(s) of photo(s) (either one that Sam takes, or that one of the course photographers snaps, or a combo thereof), and I hate it (I'm not even sure why I'm putting them up here, other than I hope to be able to look back at them one day and know that I'm no longer that person). I know I'm fat - well aware of this fact - but I think seeing photos of me on my bike (something that I love) and realizing just how horrible I look riding, makes me miserable. Every year when I see the photos I swear to myself that I'm never getting back on a bicycle (of course, this lasts about a day, and then wears off as I love my bikes far too much). Admittedly, I spend a good chunk of an hour (at least) crying about how bad I look after seeing the pictures... No one should look like they are going to crush the bike they're riding.

Oh yes, they get worse... this one is about 15 miles into the ride (I was already tired)
*Image from Sullivan Studios

I always know that I'm the biggest rider out there, and I guess in some ways, I've just come to accept that it is what it is. However, I've also come to the realization that it doesn't matter what I look like. I'm not doing the ride for a photo, and I shouldn't be depressed about seeing these images of myself riding. I know that I'm doing everything in my power to improve my physical well-being, and while it may not show in photographs just yet, I should be proud of all that I'm doing to improve me. So, to my future self, in two weeks time, when you're finding the photos that have been taken of you, remember that you work hard - every damn day - and you are worth continuing to fight for, regardless of how you feel about seeing yourself in pictures. Ride strong sister! I can't wait to see that you actually finished the ride.

Physical Break Down

I have had many days over the last several months during which I was simply exhausted. When one goes from doing nearly nothing to the polar opposite of the spectrum, sometimes ones' body decides to rebel. On the days this has occurred in the past, I've been able to refuel and force myself into continuing on. Today, my body's rebellion won out over my stubborn will. I woke up at about 6:15a to start preparing myself for kickboxing and the subsequent long bike ride. I went through the normal morning rituals and I could tell that my body wasn't happy. I was limping, my back was sore, and above all I was simply exhausted.  "Just push through it," I told myself, as I do each time I wake up with these feelings of stiffness, soreness, and exhaustion. Normally, it does the trick.

*Image found here

It worked well enough to get me to class. I pulled my bicycle up to the door just as they were getting started. But, as I got into the workout, I just couldn't seem to make myself move. I could tell I was half way completing each task, and the harder I tried to push myself, the more difficult it became to do anything. Honestly, I felt dead, and it was quite bothersome. I know everyone needs a day off, and that rest and recovery are extremely important, but I'm normally able to push through the week until a day off over the weekend. About 15 minutes into the 50 minute class, the instructor told us all to grab a quick drink and we'd get back to it. I did not get a drink, but instead sat on the edge of my bag. I put my head in my hands and asked myself silently what in the world I was doing in class.

The instructor took notice of my behavior and came over to check on me. "Are you okay?" she asked. All I could do was say, "No, I'm really not," as I started to cry. I stood up and continued, "I'll be fine. I'm just extremely worn out." She nodded a bit and said, "I can tell... you're just not yourself today." She was able to modify a few things for me so that I could make it through the rest of the workout, but I knew that there was no way I was going to make it through a long bike ride after my inability to make it through a 50 minute class. We chatted briefly about getting in proper amounts of carbs and proteins, and I returned home to attempt to refuel myself.

When I got back, I was looking through my journal of activity and came to the realization that despite the fact that I say I'm going to allow myself a day off to rest, I apparently haven't been taking it. The last complete day off from working out I have had was on July 8! That's insane. No wonder my body was uncooperative. This is always one of my biggest fears for myself... I am either on or off, and the in between place just doesn't seem to exist for me. The problem is that it turns in to burn out and then I completely give up because I'm simply exhausted. I definitely don't want that to happen. So, I have to figure out how I'm going to get everything in, not exhaust myself completely, and still find balance. I'm not sure that's possible, so perhaps something is going to have to give.  I know the upcoming ride in a couple of weeks is adding to the pressure of working out, but if I'm so tired I can't do anything, it won't be of benefit anyway.

In the mean time, I am resting for the remainder of today... and who knows? Tomorrow may end up being that day off I've obviously been in need of for quite some time.

Miscellaneous Thoughts: Winning/Losing Battles

Although I have yet to mention it here in this space, boot camp training came to an end at the beginning of this week. The month long adventure into intense outdoor workouts at local parks was fun, but I was definitely ready to return to the kickboxing studio. I discovered that I am, without a doubt, the least in-shape person in the class (or at least who showed up to the workouts), and confirmed my knowledge that I am definitely not a runner by any stretch of the imagination. I also learned that I am so fortunate to have an incredibly supportive group of people around me, who constantly motivate me to keep going, try harder, and to never give up on my goals. Even though I am definitely the slowest individual (physically, not mentally - I swear!) I can say that I attended every single boot camp during the month... and as a reward, I received an embroidered hand towel with my name and the studio name on it. I couldn't help but giggle a bit. The usefulness of the prize did not go unnoticed, particularly as I seem to be the one who is constantly dripping with sweat.  For a person who typically runs colder than average, it's amazing the buckets that pour out of me during class.

*Image found here

On the cycling front, I have been recovering from last weeks' attempts to get in longer rides before my big ride with Venus de Miles at the end of the month. Unfortunately, the wrist damage from those rides last week has been more intense than I would've liked and it's prevented me from getting in long rides since Saturday. The doubts about my ability to do the 51 miles at this point continue on. Part of me thinks that I just need to get in what I can and go for it anyway just to see if I can make it happen. The other part of me thinks it's quite stupid on my part to attempt something that I likely won't be able to finish, and that it would make more sense to opt for the shorter 33 mile ride that doesn't go into the mountains. I suppose I will have to make a judgement call when the time arrives, but until then, I still plan on doing my best to get some time and distance in the saddle.

Last night, Sam and I had a discussion about my mental state and what I'm focused on at this moment in time. As a whole, I find that I am better off when my energy goes into kickboxing goals, cycling, and the like. When I focus too much on losing weight, it becomes so easy to get distracted and/or depressed at the rate of loss. While the overall numbers don't seem so bad, I know that a large chunk of it came off in the first few weeks, making the average for each month much lower than it should be, in my opinion. However, when I think about the past and how I've attempted to lose weight by dropping calories so significantly that I could barely function as a human, I realize that I am so much better off allowing myself a larger amount of calories and just working my butt off. I'd rather have the energy to do all the activities I want to do, see it come off slower, and know that I can do this for life, rather than see it drop off over night, but never be able to participate in anything.