I really don't want to go to the Weight Watchers meeting. I haven't been there for three weeks, and I've gained more weight than I'm okay with because my pants feel too tight. There are going to be a bunch of cheery and optimistic people who have lost weight this week and are close to getting to goal, while I'm sitting there feeling bitter. But I'll go, and I'll probably weigh in, because I want to lose weight this week and I'd like to know about it next week. Better gain twenty pounds this week and lose a pound next week than gain nineteen pounds next week. The meetings have worked before and damn it if I'll give up because I'm being an idiot.
It's been humid as all get out, which hasn't been encouraging me to get outside and go running, because humid plus running plus girl who sucks at running equals terrible. I'd come up with something more witty but it is too humid. I'm well aware that if someone from Florida or Brazil or Mississippi were to visit right now, they would laugh long and hard at my discomfort. Just as I would laugh long and hard at their discomfort of below freezing weather in the winter. But, hell, I'm the one that has to run.
So, I'm off to get the bad news and get back on track.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Goals don't work. Ambiguity does.
So I've been away for a couple of weeks, in the sense that I have not posted and I have not really been paying attention to my health. I have a bit of an excuse for the first in that I was away in the beginning of July and it took me a few days to get my head on straight after traveling.
Part of the reason for not paying attention to my health is kind of good. I'm not all that ashamed of my weight any more. I'm not sure what changed, as I am in no way close to my ideal weight. Sometimes I look in the mirror and have a "Hey, I look pretty good" moment. Maybe other people don't feel that way and a few minutes later I feel like I'm probably just fooling myself. But hey, that's why I use the name Fooled. My goal was to fool myself into thinking exercise is doable, even for me, to fool myself into thinking that eating right makes me feel better, and pretty much fool myself into being a better person.
That and the Led Zeppelin song "Fool in the Rain" is one of my favorite songs.
But anyway, I've achieved, or at least, had achieved my goals. I'd do four hours of various forms of exercise during the day, because hey, why not. And goshdarn it if I didn't feel better when I did eat right. I had more confidence, which is one of my prerequisites for being a better person.
But I set out these goals, or at leas the health oriented ones, because my health wasn't good, or at least wasn't going to be good. A doctor scared me into not being such of an idiot any more, hence why I started eating right and exercising. And I started getting healthier, and lost weight, and I met goals, and ironically that was what derailed me for more than a few days.
I had confidence, I had done what millions of people hadn't been able to do, namely lost more than twenty pounds. I could no longer shop in the plus sized department. My body had shape now, instead of resembling a pile of raw bread dough. And these were the things I focused on. I focused on my successes.
I'm not saying that is a bad thing. It's a wonderful thing. If you don't acknowledged that you've changed, you'd probably go insane and spend most of the time you weren't at the gym curled up on the living room floor, completely drained because you hadn't eaten enough that day for all the exercise you had been doing.
But it can't be the only thing. It can't even be close to the only thing. For me, it probably shouldn't even be in the realm of the only thing. I started off because I wanted to stay healthy, and I wanted to have a long, uncomplicated life. That's what had kept me going. My weight loss stalled when I thought about what was coming next. When would I hit the next ten pound mark? When would I be one of those people who made it to goal? When can I wear single number dress sizes?
When I first got on this health kick, if that would even be the right term for it, I looked for a lot of information on just being healthy. That was the goal. I wanted to lose weight so I could be healthy. Don't think too much about being thin or being more attractive. That will come if I just focus on the health. I came across a blog talking about how to change your eating habits, and the woman wrote about vegetarians. She said that people who became vegetarians because of a moral reason tended to still eat a lot of junk food, because seriously, how much junk food has meat in it? But people who did it because of the health benefits were able to stick with it better and tended to not have the side effects associated with vegetarianism.
Somehow the point was that vanity was not a strong enough reason to stick to a lifestyle change. If you went into it with your main goal being to fit into a size 6 or to look good in a bathing suit, you probably wouldn't be able to stick to it. But if you went into because you wanted to be healthy or you were at risk for diabetes, you were more likely to stick with it. That resonated with me and when I focused on that, it worked, but ever since the first thought of "I want to lose X pounds by Y date" I've sabotaged my efforts.
My goals needs to be vague. I can't promise myself that I will reach my ideal BMI, my ideal weight, or my ideal clothing size, and I especially can't promise that I will have it by such and such a date. I can't do this with the goal of running the Boston Marathon or biking the Pan Mass Challenge and I can't seriously listen to people who, upon hearing my "crazy workout schedule" suggest such things. Whatever happens, happens, and I'll do my best in the mean time.
In other news, my grandparents are moving to senior housing, and the aunts and uncles are cleaning their stuff out of their shed and basement and old bedrooms, which is how I scored a thirty-three year old men's Schwinn ten-speed. The tires need to be replaced and the chain is loose, but the thing actually works. I haven't had a working bicycle since I was 10, because the next bicycle I got, the gear changer thingy didn't work and it constantly felt like I was pedaling uphill, which is not something an 11 year old is interested in. So I'm absurdly happy about having a bike, as I've been thinking about getting one for months now. Even though I haven't gotten tires yet.
Part of the reason for not paying attention to my health is kind of good. I'm not all that ashamed of my weight any more. I'm not sure what changed, as I am in no way close to my ideal weight. Sometimes I look in the mirror and have a "Hey, I look pretty good" moment. Maybe other people don't feel that way and a few minutes later I feel like I'm probably just fooling myself. But hey, that's why I use the name Fooled. My goal was to fool myself into thinking exercise is doable, even for me, to fool myself into thinking that eating right makes me feel better, and pretty much fool myself into being a better person.
That and the Led Zeppelin song "Fool in the Rain" is one of my favorite songs.
But anyway, I've achieved, or at least, had achieved my goals. I'd do four hours of various forms of exercise during the day, because hey, why not. And goshdarn it if I didn't feel better when I did eat right. I had more confidence, which is one of my prerequisites for being a better person.
But I set out these goals, or at leas the health oriented ones, because my health wasn't good, or at least wasn't going to be good. A doctor scared me into not being such of an idiot any more, hence why I started eating right and exercising. And I started getting healthier, and lost weight, and I met goals, and ironically that was what derailed me for more than a few days.
I had confidence, I had done what millions of people hadn't been able to do, namely lost more than twenty pounds. I could no longer shop in the plus sized department. My body had shape now, instead of resembling a pile of raw bread dough. And these were the things I focused on. I focused on my successes.
I'm not saying that is a bad thing. It's a wonderful thing. If you don't acknowledged that you've changed, you'd probably go insane and spend most of the time you weren't at the gym curled up on the living room floor, completely drained because you hadn't eaten enough that day for all the exercise you had been doing.
But it can't be the only thing. It can't even be close to the only thing. For me, it probably shouldn't even be in the realm of the only thing. I started off because I wanted to stay healthy, and I wanted to have a long, uncomplicated life. That's what had kept me going. My weight loss stalled when I thought about what was coming next. When would I hit the next ten pound mark? When would I be one of those people who made it to goal? When can I wear single number dress sizes?
When I first got on this health kick, if that would even be the right term for it, I looked for a lot of information on just being healthy. That was the goal. I wanted to lose weight so I could be healthy. Don't think too much about being thin or being more attractive. That will come if I just focus on the health. I came across a blog talking about how to change your eating habits, and the woman wrote about vegetarians. She said that people who became vegetarians because of a moral reason tended to still eat a lot of junk food, because seriously, how much junk food has meat in it? But people who did it because of the health benefits were able to stick with it better and tended to not have the side effects associated with vegetarianism.
Somehow the point was that vanity was not a strong enough reason to stick to a lifestyle change. If you went into it with your main goal being to fit into a size 6 or to look good in a bathing suit, you probably wouldn't be able to stick to it. But if you went into because you wanted to be healthy or you were at risk for diabetes, you were more likely to stick with it. That resonated with me and when I focused on that, it worked, but ever since the first thought of "I want to lose X pounds by Y date" I've sabotaged my efforts.
My goals needs to be vague. I can't promise myself that I will reach my ideal BMI, my ideal weight, or my ideal clothing size, and I especially can't promise that I will have it by such and such a date. I can't do this with the goal of running the Boston Marathon or biking the Pan Mass Challenge and I can't seriously listen to people who, upon hearing my "crazy workout schedule" suggest such things. Whatever happens, happens, and I'll do my best in the mean time.
In other news, my grandparents are moving to senior housing, and the aunts and uncles are cleaning their stuff out of their shed and basement and old bedrooms, which is how I scored a thirty-three year old men's Schwinn ten-speed. The tires need to be replaced and the chain is loose, but the thing actually works. I haven't had a working bicycle since I was 10, because the next bicycle I got, the gear changer thingy didn't work and it constantly felt like I was pedaling uphill, which is not something an 11 year old is interested in. So I'm absurdly happy about having a bike, as I've been thinking about getting one for months now. Even though I haven't gotten tires yet.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Well, that makes sense
So I spent a while after my dismal attempt at second run tooling around on Garage Band, which has always been on my computer but I haven't been cool enough to use it, recording my own Couch to 5K running podcast. I'm not sure if you could actually call it a podcast, because I have no intention on uploading it to iTunes, because my voice sounds like a stuttering chipmunk on crack , which is sure to be detrimental when I actually use this "podcast." But I timed out the cues, and it didn't take me that long at all to figure out Garage Band and I didn't have to read most of the directions they told me to read. I'm sure Mr. Ullrey was much more technical at figuring out what the optimum beats per minute are, but I also have experience with the running interval so I knew what kind of song I needed when. I'm feeling kind of accomplished, even though Mac's whole selling point is that you'd have to be an idiot to not understand how these programs work. But I listened to it after I finished and it came out sounding not half bad.
Unfortunately I woke up having the worst ToM in years, and felt very nauseous this morning. Or it could be a stomach bug, in which case I'm going away next week and I don't want to be doing anything that could aggravate it, namely doing strenuous activity that could make me feel nauseous anyway. And if it was a stomach bug, it might account for why I failed miserably at physical activity this week. Or I could just be a pansy.
Unfortunately I woke up having the worst ToM in years, and felt very nauseous this morning. Or it could be a stomach bug, in which case I'm going away next week and I don't want to be doing anything that could aggravate it, namely doing strenuous activity that could make me feel nauseous anyway. And if it was a stomach bug, it might account for why I failed miserably at physical activity this week. Or I could just be a pansy.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tequila Legs
So, Mizfit wanted to know how my hump day was going, and not to whine or anything but I'm still frustrated.
I was debating on whether or not to do the yoga/pilates class today. I was very much leaning toward not doing it. I would be able to sleep later, for one. Plus, while I've benefited very much from yoga/pilates, it is not without its side effects. More often than not my legs feel like I've just drank too much teguila when I walk out of there. It also makes me feel very sleepy, probably due to the savasana resting period at the end. While there are days where there is nothing more than I'd like to laze around and feel like I just drank some tequila without the needing to puke, it does tend to be inconvenient. Namely on days when I am attempting to do a run that just kicked my ass a few days before. Having tequila legs while retrying asskicking running interval equals not a good thing.
What makes it worse is that I'm sure that even people who get sent home on the first day on The Biggest Loser could probably do this interval running thing.
Nevertheless, I elected to do it in addition to planning on doing the interval afterwards. I would stay alert during the savasana thingy, drink lots of water afterwards, and stop for a coffee on the way home. The second (third?) problem arose with the coffee. I'm a bit lactose intolerant, and it is worst in the morning. Surprisingly, I did not realize I was lactose intolerant until I started eating better. I just kind of assumed all those years that you were supposed to feel gross in the morning. I never suspected it was the milk I put in my cereal. I'm also not a big coffee drinker, and when I do, I tend to drink it in the afternoon, when I'm at work, when having a bit of milk in my coffee doesn't bother me. So I rarely drink coffee in the morning, and mostly drink it black when I do. But today I decided to go for an ice coffee, and without thinking, I got it with milk. Which made me feel not very well, especially as I don't drink much milk anymore, so I'm probably more sensitive to it than I used to be. So my run was delayed longer than I wanted it to be, because the longer I refrain from exercise the less likely I'll do it, and once I did get out there, I didn't feel that great.
So yet again, the run kicked my ass. Even worse than before, actually. It really aggravated me, because I could run for an hour straight on the elliptical at the gym and never get my ass kicked like this. If I ever felt like I really wanted to get off, I'd slow down for a minute or two and click through my playlist, and pretty quickly I'd come across a song from the Dropkick Murphys, or "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" by U2, or even "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen or "Canned Heat" aka the Napoleon Dynamite song , and it would be enough to drive me past that feeling. But even though the Couch to 5K podcasts are a godsend and the music is actually enjoyable, there isn't the insane energetic song when I need it. Maybe I need to actually get tech savy and record something for myself.
I was debating on whether or not to do the yoga/pilates class today. I was very much leaning toward not doing it. I would be able to sleep later, for one. Plus, while I've benefited very much from yoga/pilates, it is not without its side effects. More often than not my legs feel like I've just drank too much teguila when I walk out of there. It also makes me feel very sleepy, probably due to the savasana resting period at the end. While there are days where there is nothing more than I'd like to laze around and feel like I just drank some tequila without the needing to puke, it does tend to be inconvenient. Namely on days when I am attempting to do a run that just kicked my ass a few days before. Having tequila legs while retrying asskicking running interval equals not a good thing.
What makes it worse is that I'm sure that even people who get sent home on the first day on The Biggest Loser could probably do this interval running thing.
Nevertheless, I elected to do it in addition to planning on doing the interval afterwards. I would stay alert during the savasana thingy, drink lots of water afterwards, and stop for a coffee on the way home. The second (third?) problem arose with the coffee. I'm a bit lactose intolerant, and it is worst in the morning. Surprisingly, I did not realize I was lactose intolerant until I started eating better. I just kind of assumed all those years that you were supposed to feel gross in the morning. I never suspected it was the milk I put in my cereal. I'm also not a big coffee drinker, and when I do, I tend to drink it in the afternoon, when I'm at work, when having a bit of milk in my coffee doesn't bother me. So I rarely drink coffee in the morning, and mostly drink it black when I do. But today I decided to go for an ice coffee, and without thinking, I got it with milk. Which made me feel not very well, especially as I don't drink much milk anymore, so I'm probably more sensitive to it than I used to be. So my run was delayed longer than I wanted it to be, because the longer I refrain from exercise the less likely I'll do it, and once I did get out there, I didn't feel that great.
So yet again, the run kicked my ass. Even worse than before, actually. It really aggravated me, because I could run for an hour straight on the elliptical at the gym and never get my ass kicked like this. If I ever felt like I really wanted to get off, I'd slow down for a minute or two and click through my playlist, and pretty quickly I'd come across a song from the Dropkick Murphys, or "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" by U2, or even "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen or "Canned Heat" aka the Napoleon Dynamite song , and it would be enough to drive me past that feeling. But even though the Couch to 5K podcasts are a godsend and the music is actually enjoyable, there isn't the insane energetic song when I need it. Maybe I need to actually get tech savy and record something for myself.
Monday, June 23, 2008
So, today's another week
So today kind of sucked. I hadn't blown it quite as much as I had last week, but I still didn't really watch what I ate at all, so I went up this week. I started the next level of the Couch to 5K but towards the end my legs just would not move any more and I almost sat down on the sidewalk right there. I'm just frustrated with myself.
But today is a different day. I'm pretty sure I'm going to do well this week. I'm going to actually try this week. What a novel idea.
Okay, other things, I guess. Last week, I was incredibly stressed out. I'm a pretty stressed out person in general, but for some reason it never really effects my sleep. So if I'm stressed out enough to be tired, you know it has to be bad. I was literally waking up every hour and a half or so with my heart racing. The reason why I was stressed out so much is that I'm in the midst of trying to apply to grad school. I'm definitely not pinning all my hopes on getting into grad school, and it won't be the end of the world, and that's the assumption I'm working on, and I'll go through my days, being stressed about getting into grad school but really not too bad. I mean, I don't feel stressed.
But boom, as soon as my head hits the pillow, racing heart and nightmares galore. I had an interview at the school last week. In case I haven't mentioned, I live about twenty miles outside of Boston and the school I'm hoping to get into is in Boston. As you may have also heard, the Celtics are the best team in the NBA. To celebrate this fact, Boston had a huge parade. Right at exactly the time I was having my interview. The only way to reach this school is through public transportation, which, of course, was packed. I had to walk a bit of a distance because the parking lot at the subway station was full, which normally wouldn't be a huge deal if I were wearing sensible shoes. But I was not wearing sensible shoes, I was wearing shoes that I bought at Kohls at 10:15 the night before when I had my obligatory "Oh shit, I have nothing to wear to this interview dealy!" moment. So, at the end of the day, even though I probably walked less than a mile, total, my feet looked like they had tumors on them. The blisters were so bad that I couldn't even think about putting on socks the next day, never mind workout sneakers.
To top it off, I couldn't even stay and watch the parade, because a. I was so tired from the constant nightmares, and b. I couldn't stand to be in those shoes a moment longer, and I didn't think being barefoot on the streets of Boston in a crowd of a couple of thousand was a good idea.
I didn't have the time on Thursday (the day of the interview) to work out, and Friday, I just couldn't even think of doing anything, never mind going out and running. But as stated, today is a new day and week. I didn't have nightmares the night before, and I did go out and run, though I wasn't entirely successful in what I had planned to do. So, today's another week.
But today is a different day. I'm pretty sure I'm going to do well this week. I'm going to actually try this week. What a novel idea.
Okay, other things, I guess. Last week, I was incredibly stressed out. I'm a pretty stressed out person in general, but for some reason it never really effects my sleep. So if I'm stressed out enough to be tired, you know it has to be bad. I was literally waking up every hour and a half or so with my heart racing. The reason why I was stressed out so much is that I'm in the midst of trying to apply to grad school. I'm definitely not pinning all my hopes on getting into grad school, and it won't be the end of the world, and that's the assumption I'm working on, and I'll go through my days, being stressed about getting into grad school but really not too bad. I mean, I don't feel stressed.
But boom, as soon as my head hits the pillow, racing heart and nightmares galore. I had an interview at the school last week. In case I haven't mentioned, I live about twenty miles outside of Boston and the school I'm hoping to get into is in Boston. As you may have also heard, the Celtics are the best team in the NBA. To celebrate this fact, Boston had a huge parade. Right at exactly the time I was having my interview. The only way to reach this school is through public transportation, which, of course, was packed. I had to walk a bit of a distance because the parking lot at the subway station was full, which normally wouldn't be a huge deal if I were wearing sensible shoes. But I was not wearing sensible shoes, I was wearing shoes that I bought at Kohls at 10:15 the night before when I had my obligatory "Oh shit, I have nothing to wear to this interview dealy!" moment. So, at the end of the day, even though I probably walked less than a mile, total, my feet looked like they had tumors on them. The blisters were so bad that I couldn't even think about putting on socks the next day, never mind workout sneakers.
To top it off, I couldn't even stay and watch the parade, because a. I was so tired from the constant nightmares, and b. I couldn't stand to be in those shoes a moment longer, and I didn't think being barefoot on the streets of Boston in a crowd of a couple of thousand was a good idea.
I didn't have the time on Thursday (the day of the interview) to work out, and Friday, I just couldn't even think of doing anything, never mind going out and running. But as stated, today is a new day and week. I didn't have nightmares the night before, and I did go out and run, though I wasn't entirely successful in what I had planned to do. So, today's another week.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Jogging is very beneficial. It's good for your legs and your feet. It's also very good for the ground. It makes it feel needed. ~Charles Schulz
I'm wicked tired. The only thing I can chalk this up to is running. This has never happened before, getting tired from exercising. I mean, if I get in one of my crazy phases and do three hours of it, yes, I do tend be so tired that I get pissed off at my body for being hungry and therefore making me do something energetic like feed it. But if I just do one, hour or less, activity, especially in the morning, I am always, and I mean always, fine. I get back home from the gym at 7:30 in the morning, check my email, take a shower, and watch sitcom repeats until I have to leave for work sometime in the afternoon, and once I finish with the shower, it's like I was never there. Oh, there have been the health benefits that you get from exercising, but that's more of a cumulative thing than a daily thing.
Running is hard, sure. I suck at it, sure, and I'm gasping for air in ways I only did before when we did cardio weightlifting (not sure if that is the actual term, but basically it is weightlifting! Energetically! And making you feel like you did ten minutes straight of jumping jacks! And wanting to scream swears at the instructor that you previously felt very amiable toward!). But I think this is all an effect of being a pansy ass wuss and I'm pretty sure I probably panted and gasped for air like this whenever I started exercising.
But now that I think of it, it might just be all that fresh air. Sort of like, when you spend all day sitting at the beach doing nothing more strenuous than carrying your blanket on the short walk from the parking lot to the beach and turning the pages of a novel, and yet, when you get home you absolutely can't wait to get to bed. I really don't get why the fresh air, which everyone alleges to be brisk! and energizing! is making me exhausted while when I go to the gym and breath in the cleaning supply fume infested air, I could just as well have been sleeping an hour after I leave.
Well, that was awfully rambly. And I really should sleep now, even though it is 9:30 at night and thus I fail as a twenty-three year old, because I tried to spell "awfully" as "offlely."
Running is hard, sure. I suck at it, sure, and I'm gasping for air in ways I only did before when we did cardio weightlifting (not sure if that is the actual term, but basically it is weightlifting! Energetically! And making you feel like you did ten minutes straight of jumping jacks! And wanting to scream swears at the instructor that you previously felt very amiable toward!). But I think this is all an effect of being a pansy ass wuss and I'm pretty sure I probably panted and gasped for air like this whenever I started exercising.
But now that I think of it, it might just be all that fresh air. Sort of like, when you spend all day sitting at the beach doing nothing more strenuous than carrying your blanket on the short walk from the parking lot to the beach and turning the pages of a novel, and yet, when you get home you absolutely can't wait to get to bed. I really don't get why the fresh air, which everyone alleges to be brisk! and energizing! is making me exhausted while when I go to the gym and breath in the cleaning supply fume infested air, I could just as well have been sleeping an hour after I leave.
Well, that was awfully rambly. And I really should sleep now, even though it is 9:30 at night and thus I fail as a twenty-three year old, because I tried to spell "awfully" as "offlely."
Monday, June 2, 2008
Eehhh
Weigh in Day. I went up a pound and a half. Which is highly surprising. I had been on vacation where nearly the only thing I ate, with the exception of some deviled eggs and cheerios for breakfast, was McDonald's, KFC, McDonald's and Zaxby's (which is a southern chicken fancy fast food place). The anxiety and depression reared their heads again after eating so much crappy food, which in turn triggered me to eat more crap. I also had gone to the movies and drank a huge bucket of coke and a bag of buttered popcorn. I'd been expecting gain at least three pounds and realistically twenty. So yay me. And yay nearly the whole container of Trader Joe's mini milk chocolate peanut butter cups that I've eaten between last night and this morning. Oh well.
I also have been keeping up with the running. I mean, I'm proud of myself for staying on program (occasional excess fast food and delicious Trader Joe's chocolate peanut butter cups aside) and keeping up with exercise in general, but honestly, I am so proud of myself for getting past that first day of running. Hell, I'm proud of myself for getting out the door and doing it. So go me. Oddly enough, even though I've been doing less strength training because the classes I've happened to cut out to do instead of running happen to be the ones that include strength training, I can definitely feel more muscle and feel more toned up. I mean, obviously I would feel it in my legs, and in my core to a certain extent. But I really feel it in my arms. Like, I don't even have to flex my arm any more to feel the muscles in my arm. Which really surprised me. I have no idea how that happens. I know my arms move when I run and I'm careful to keep them in positions which people say are best while running, but it isn't as though I am running with weights or anything. But whatever, I'll take it. Alas, I still have the underarm flab.
I also have been keeping up with the running. I mean, I'm proud of myself for staying on program (occasional excess fast food and delicious Trader Joe's chocolate peanut butter cups aside) and keeping up with exercise in general, but honestly, I am so proud of myself for getting past that first day of running. Hell, I'm proud of myself for getting out the door and doing it. So go me. Oddly enough, even though I've been doing less strength training because the classes I've happened to cut out to do instead of running happen to be the ones that include strength training, I can definitely feel more muscle and feel more toned up. I mean, obviously I would feel it in my legs, and in my core to a certain extent. But I really feel it in my arms. Like, I don't even have to flex my arm any more to feel the muscles in my arm. Which really surprised me. I have no idea how that happens. I know my arms move when I run and I'm careful to keep them in positions which people say are best while running, but it isn't as though I am running with weights or anything. But whatever, I'll take it. Alas, I still have the underarm flab.
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