We listen to Sir Mix ALot's "Baby Got Back" in several of my spin classes at WIO, and two of the instructors have favorite lines they like to sing out from the song. For adorable Angela, who claims she has a "ghetto bootie" (I think her bootie looks just fine, myself) always sings "You get SPRUNG!" at the top of her lungs, while Laura, who looks like an Amazon warrior woman, all 6 foot red-haired and hour-glass shaped, sings out "My anaconda don't want none less you got some buns hon!" and does a little bike dance while she's singing it.
But one thing I've noticed lately is that there are no paens to chubby bellies--no guys grunting about how they can't wait to "get the friction on" with those of us who have Winne the Pooh abs, upholstered bellies or even a small paunch-pounch, like a kangaroo.
I think that's horribly unfair.
After all, just because my avoirdupois sticks more to my middle than my butt and thighs, why should I be considered less sexy, less gropable than my pear-shaped sisters? So I got some serious "front" instead of "back"--I still can have it goin' on, can't I?
So I've got abs of marshmallow instead of abs of steel--it doesn't mean I don't work very hard 6 hours a week to try and strengthen and tone my body during a variety of exercise classes. I grunt and groan and lift and jump and run with the rest of them, and I don't complain, I just DO it, but even though I can feel my core muscles getting strong, you can't see them because they have a layer or three of spongy fat over them.
And unlike Janice, who had three c-sections and doesn't have more than a teeny-weeny scar to show for it, I have a scar that looks like I was operated on by Freddie Kruger...it goes from one hip to the other, and up towards the doughnut hole that is my belly button. I also have a silver-dollar-sized scar from having a Jackson-Pratt drain inserted into my c-section to let blood drain off after I had Nick. So there's no chance I'm ever going to wear a bikini, even if I do lose another 65 pounds.
Still, I want to get down to 165 by next summer, and I figure most of that weight is going to have to come off of my belly and back and upper arms. I have no idea how I'm going to get the weight off, especially since I can't live without carbohydrates. High protein diets are for people with very sturdy livers and hearts. I don't have a sturdy liver, and I just know that ketosis would slay me and set my Crohns into long-term spasm mode. I am also averse to starving myself, or eating only one kind of food, or giving up on anything that tastes sweet for the rest of my life. What kind of life would that be, never eating food that tastes good?
I'm a sensual person, with a passion for tastes, smells, touches and sounds that are pleasurable. I do not want to have to shut down my sense of taste for a year so I lose any interest in food.
Hence, I am praying for a miracle, a genuine solution to come to me in the nick of time, one that will help me get this last 65 pounds off in a way that I can easily live with for the rest of my life.
It's going to happen. I can feel it.
Meanwhile, I am waiting for the universe to send me a fun workout buddy who won't mind holding me accountable and being a good friend at the same time.
There's a part of me that's been whispering that I really don't need to lose more weight. I work out, after all, and I fit into a size 18-20, which isn't outrageous, and I have a husband, so I'm not out to find a man that I need to be svelte for, obviously....he loves me just the way I am.
But I keep thinking of that high school reunion in 2009. I dream of seeing the handsome guys I had crushes on, of watching them drool over my fabulously fit body, and enjoying the revenge of seeing them as bald and pudgy old men, so I can reject them as they once did me...of course I could never treat them with as much contempt and cruelty as I was treated to for four long years at Ankeny High School, but still. And I dream of having a sultry affair with an old high school flame, of enjoying the play of athletic, toned muscles during sex. I am sure the fantasy is much richer than the reality, but it calls to me.
At any rate, I need to keep going and not take so many steps back as forward. I need to appreciate how far I've come, and allow myself to get the body I want within the next year. As the lovely Suzanne always says during the more grueling moments of Pilates class, "Yes YOU CAN!"
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Emerald Cup in the Emerald City = bizarre
Oh heck, I just got back from the Emerald Cup, which was so bizarre I do not know where to start to tell you about it. First of all, there were a zillion booths for fitness people with all these energy, protein or vitamin-packed foods and drinks guarenteed to make you HUGE and RIPPED (and they all had crazy names like AB BUSTERS and POWER HOG and other testosterone laden monikers, though they all obviously wanted the bodybuilding ladies to try their wares, too...but they were acting like used car salesmen combined with drug dealers. There was one guy there selling chocolates that had so many different kinds of nut butters and vitamins and minerals in it that each little chunk they were giving away felt as heavy as an anvil. I assume that the people attempting to eat the chocolate samples had to have muscular gums and a sturdy jaw, because they were unable to bite it off with their front teeth alone.
The whole booth area was crowded and creepy. Of course, because I was the ONLY woman in the entire building who had a fat belly, I was like the turd in the punchbowl; people were avoiding even looking at me, as if I were contagious.... I wanted to put a sign around my neck that said "Watch Out! I have fat cells and I know how to use them!"
There were overweight men there, but they were somehow accepted, like it's okay for guys to be big and fat, but it's a sin for women. It seems ironic to me that in the midst of so many muscular women who could kick any guys butt, there was all this sexism and an obvious double standard.
Their "Security" guys were all under age 20, and most had serious acne, and kept looking furtively at the women in their little bikinis, even though at least half of the women on stage were easily old enough to be their mothers or grandmothers...paging Dr Freud! Then I went backstage to interview Janice, and had to navigate between all these women who looked like they'd been dipped in walnut varnish and shellac...and they all smelled greasy with this sort of mildewed gardenia-ish scent underlying it, I assume to cover the stench of this awful dark spray tan they make all the women wear. It made Janice look like an Oompa Loompa, but I couldn't say that, of course. Poor Janice, having to deal with all these women who had twice the body fat she does with triple the ego, and most of them had plastic boobs that looked like helium balloons. She was the shortest, but most fit woman there, and there were no surgical enhancements added to her physique. I was proud to be covering her first Emerald Cup appearance. Janice had brains, class and a rockin' bod, and she shone like a diamond among the costume jewels. Anyway, they had two big screen TVs, and they were showing commercials for the sponsor when all of a sudden they flashed on this picture of the world, with a voiceover of this guy reading the first few graphs of genesis in the Bible, about the earth being created, etc...then they flash this sentence about "Six Thousand Years Later" and show the World Trade Center bombing, the floods, the hurricanes, destruction, mayhem, and a final photo of George Bush waving from some kind of big military copter or plane, and then they flash the sentence "Behold, for I am coming soon. Jesus Christ."
And I was thinking WTF? What was that all about, in the middle of the commercials for power drinks and such? It was just out of nowhere. Then we get to meet the MC, Kim KONG Farrison, who dresses like MC Hammer crossed with that Indian leader who used to wear the long Nehru jackets in bright colors, whose name escapes me. Anyway, Kong, as he is fondly known, starts talking about his penis in the middle of the figure competition. Again, WTF? I mean, ewwww. Do I really want to know that he can't do a military push up because his dick won't let him get more than three feet down to the ground? Or that he uses it as a personal floatation device? No, I do not need to know that. On the way home, we followed a guy in a truck out of Bellevue who actually had a pair of big fake testicles attached to the hitch on his truck so they swung right in the sight line of whomever was behind him. I could only assume he came from the Emerald Cup...I have no proof other than his tackiness. So I got up and left an hour and half or so into the show because it was running late, and the bikini competition wasn't going to happen for another hour, and the sleet and hail were coming down fast. I would never have allowed my child into that room, because the show became X-rated as soon as Farrison stared his groping of the contestants and his penis patter. What could have been a classy event became trashy, which is sad. I also felt that the show could have moved much faster if they would have moved the "fitness barbie" and her routine and subsequent totally unnecessary "academy award" speech thanking everyone she's ever known to the end of the show. I do not care who made her strategic-holes unitard, nor do I care about her personal religious beliefs. I was there to watch the figure and fitness competition for Janice. I also could have done without the muscle-head who came out and did a live commercial for his homemade fitness video and POD book. Why couldn't he have a video commercial on the big screens like all the other sponsors?
The whole booth area was crowded and creepy. Of course, because I was the ONLY woman in the entire building who had a fat belly, I was like the turd in the punchbowl; people were avoiding even looking at me, as if I were contagious.... I wanted to put a sign around my neck that said "Watch Out! I have fat cells and I know how to use them!"
There were overweight men there, but they were somehow accepted, like it's okay for guys to be big and fat, but it's a sin for women. It seems ironic to me that in the midst of so many muscular women who could kick any guys butt, there was all this sexism and an obvious double standard.
Their "Security" guys were all under age 20, and most had serious acne, and kept looking furtively at the women in their little bikinis, even though at least half of the women on stage were easily old enough to be their mothers or grandmothers...paging Dr Freud! Then I went backstage to interview Janice, and had to navigate between all these women who looked like they'd been dipped in walnut varnish and shellac...and they all smelled greasy with this sort of mildewed gardenia-ish scent underlying it, I assume to cover the stench of this awful dark spray tan they make all the women wear. It made Janice look like an Oompa Loompa, but I couldn't say that, of course. Poor Janice, having to deal with all these women who had twice the body fat she does with triple the ego, and most of them had plastic boobs that looked like helium balloons. She was the shortest, but most fit woman there, and there were no surgical enhancements added to her physique. I was proud to be covering her first Emerald Cup appearance. Janice had brains, class and a rockin' bod, and she shone like a diamond among the costume jewels. Anyway, they had two big screen TVs, and they were showing commercials for the sponsor when all of a sudden they flashed on this picture of the world, with a voiceover of this guy reading the first few graphs of genesis in the Bible, about the earth being created, etc...then they flash this sentence about "Six Thousand Years Later" and show the World Trade Center bombing, the floods, the hurricanes, destruction, mayhem, and a final photo of George Bush waving from some kind of big military copter or plane, and then they flash the sentence "Behold, for I am coming soon. Jesus Christ."
And I was thinking WTF? What was that all about, in the middle of the commercials for power drinks and such? It was just out of nowhere. Then we get to meet the MC, Kim KONG Farrison, who dresses like MC Hammer crossed with that Indian leader who used to wear the long Nehru jackets in bright colors, whose name escapes me. Anyway, Kong, as he is fondly known, starts talking about his penis in the middle of the figure competition. Again, WTF? I mean, ewwww. Do I really want to know that he can't do a military push up because his dick won't let him get more than three feet down to the ground? Or that he uses it as a personal floatation device? No, I do not need to know that. On the way home, we followed a guy in a truck out of Bellevue who actually had a pair of big fake testicles attached to the hitch on his truck so they swung right in the sight line of whomever was behind him. I could only assume he came from the Emerald Cup...I have no proof other than his tackiness. So I got up and left an hour and half or so into the show because it was running late, and the bikini competition wasn't going to happen for another hour, and the sleet and hail were coming down fast. I would never have allowed my child into that room, because the show became X-rated as soon as Farrison stared his groping of the contestants and his penis patter. What could have been a classy event became trashy, which is sad. I also felt that the show could have moved much faster if they would have moved the "fitness barbie" and her routine and subsequent totally unnecessary "academy award" speech thanking everyone she's ever known to the end of the show. I do not care who made her strategic-holes unitard, nor do I care about her personal religious beliefs. I was there to watch the figure and fitness competition for Janice. I also could have done without the muscle-head who came out and did a live commercial for his homemade fitness video and POD book. Why couldn't he have a video commercial on the big screens like all the other sponsors?
Friday, April 11, 2008
The All Janice Week of Agony
I have to say that Janice is looking great these days, as she's going to compete next week in the Emerald Cup, the largest amateur bodybuilding competition in the nation. Those of us who didn't think she had any weight at all to lose on her muscular 5 ft frame have been astonished at the 20 pounds that has come off of her since January of this year.
She hasn't softened up at all when it comes to kicking out butts in exercise classes, however, and this whole week, which was spring break for the local schools, and hence vacation for all the usual WIO instructors.
That left Janice and Danielle to run all the classes every day, and I have no idea how Janice managed to do it without getting really sore and grumpy. But, she seemed just fine as she kicked our butts last night in kickboxing class. Janice is nothing if not consistent, and way more fit than anyone else on the planet.
Monday in cardio lift, Janice had us working out our shoulders and backs until we were all groaning. Then Tuesday's Pilates proved to be one long glute and abdominal exercise, while Wednesdays balls and weights was all about the squat and the harrowing of our hamstrings and quads. My lats still hurt and my Winne-the-Pooh abs have been sore and seizing up on me all week. Fortunately, today I had a doctors appointment and was able to miss class for the first time in 5 days (I took spin with Angela last Sunday). Now tomorrow I am weighing whether or not to go to Saturday surprise class and then also go to spin on Sunday, or to just sleep in and let myself have another day off. I should be out walking right now, because its the first beautiful, warm and sunny day that I've seen this year. But I just feel like being a slug, oddly enough.
I must note that my exercise is paying off in how I look to others, as when I flew back to Iowa this past week for my best friend's funeral, I got more male attention than I have in more than 20 years. My friend Roger called me "caliente" and was very complimentary about my looks in general, which was refreshing, as my husband tends to ignore me. It's nice to be oogled and viewed as sexy by the opposite gender. It made me feel young and alive. And I am certain that I wouldn't have lost 40 pounds and be looking as toned as I do had it not been for Work It Out Womens Fitness and their classes and boot camps.
Now if the next 60 pounds would just slip off of me, I could be all ready for my 30th high school reunion early. I am going to try to find a food plan that works better for me in keeping me from being hungry while still getting enough nutrition, and I need to shake my horrible sugar addiction.
I've had thoughts, prior to my Iowa trip, about just giving up and letting my body go back to its ponderous size. But then I think about how far I've come, and though I have still got a long way to go, I don't want to go back to struggling to find clothing that fits. I also feel as if I am strengthening my heart and adding years onto my life, years that I am going to need to raise my little boy to adulthood. As the sign says in the WIO gym, "It's not the years in your life, it's the life in your years!"
She hasn't softened up at all when it comes to kicking out butts in exercise classes, however, and this whole week, which was spring break for the local schools, and hence vacation for all the usual WIO instructors.
That left Janice and Danielle to run all the classes every day, and I have no idea how Janice managed to do it without getting really sore and grumpy. But, she seemed just fine as she kicked our butts last night in kickboxing class. Janice is nothing if not consistent, and way more fit than anyone else on the planet.
Monday in cardio lift, Janice had us working out our shoulders and backs until we were all groaning. Then Tuesday's Pilates proved to be one long glute and abdominal exercise, while Wednesdays balls and weights was all about the squat and the harrowing of our hamstrings and quads. My lats still hurt and my Winne-the-Pooh abs have been sore and seizing up on me all week. Fortunately, today I had a doctors appointment and was able to miss class for the first time in 5 days (I took spin with Angela last Sunday). Now tomorrow I am weighing whether or not to go to Saturday surprise class and then also go to spin on Sunday, or to just sleep in and let myself have another day off. I should be out walking right now, because its the first beautiful, warm and sunny day that I've seen this year. But I just feel like being a slug, oddly enough.
I must note that my exercise is paying off in how I look to others, as when I flew back to Iowa this past week for my best friend's funeral, I got more male attention than I have in more than 20 years. My friend Roger called me "caliente" and was very complimentary about my looks in general, which was refreshing, as my husband tends to ignore me. It's nice to be oogled and viewed as sexy by the opposite gender. It made me feel young and alive. And I am certain that I wouldn't have lost 40 pounds and be looking as toned as I do had it not been for Work It Out Womens Fitness and their classes and boot camps.
Now if the next 60 pounds would just slip off of me, I could be all ready for my 30th high school reunion early. I am going to try to find a food plan that works better for me in keeping me from being hungry while still getting enough nutrition, and I need to shake my horrible sugar addiction.
I've had thoughts, prior to my Iowa trip, about just giving up and letting my body go back to its ponderous size. But then I think about how far I've come, and though I have still got a long way to go, I don't want to go back to struggling to find clothing that fits. I also feel as if I am strengthening my heart and adding years onto my life, years that I am going to need to raise my little boy to adulthood. As the sign says in the WIO gym, "It's not the years in your life, it's the life in your years!"
Friday, March 7, 2008
Bending Over Backwards
I discovered this past week that my insurance deductable for physical therapy is $350, and that I'd have to pay anywhere from 400-500 per session if I decided to do physical therapy a couple of times a week, as recommended by my PCP. Whoa! I certainly can't afford that, and I found that because I've been babying my back and being scrupulous about modifying any moves that might have an impact on my lower back, that I feel worlds better, and really have no need of expensive PT anyway.
Of course, I think staying away from Nitrates was also a good move, as I seem to get joint pain and swelling every time I consume any food like bacon that contains lots of nitrates, salt, preservatives and smoke flavoring.
I have also been having tons of Crohns flares all week, and I can only assume that my forays into eating whole grains and dried fruit like craisins are the culprits. I love oatmeal, and every now and then I try to have a scant cup of cinamon apple oatmeal for breakfast, or a homemade cookie with oatmeal, and I always end up paying the price in pain, as my colon seizes up on me.
It happened last week during Tuesday nights spin class with the delightful Danielle. Suddenly, as I leaned over to do jumps, a wave of pain washed over me and I felt as if my bowels were going to evacuate right there on the bike! I was mortified, and ran to the bathroom, but Danielle thought I was having an asthma attack or a heart attack, and sent people to knock on the bathroom door to ensure that I was okay. It was horribly embarrassing, because of course I was having what used to be known as the "bloody flux" and I was in considerable pain. Once I managed to get out of the bathroom, Danielle had me lay on the floor, draw my knees up to my chest, breathe in deeply and out deeply and then squeeze my ab muscles whenever I felt a wave of colon pain about to hit. Much to my shock, it worked, and my pain lessened dramatically. I have never been told to do that before, and was thrilled that there is now someway to aleviate the pain when I am away from home and pain meds. Susie, one of the gals in the class actually drove me home, while another Danielle, who is a nurse, followed to make sure I was okay. Thank you, gals, and thanks Danielle for helping me out in my time of need. Even though I was embarrassed, it was still a lesson learned.
Of course, I think staying away from Nitrates was also a good move, as I seem to get joint pain and swelling every time I consume any food like bacon that contains lots of nitrates, salt, preservatives and smoke flavoring.
I have also been having tons of Crohns flares all week, and I can only assume that my forays into eating whole grains and dried fruit like craisins are the culprits. I love oatmeal, and every now and then I try to have a scant cup of cinamon apple oatmeal for breakfast, or a homemade cookie with oatmeal, and I always end up paying the price in pain, as my colon seizes up on me.
It happened last week during Tuesday nights spin class with the delightful Danielle. Suddenly, as I leaned over to do jumps, a wave of pain washed over me and I felt as if my bowels were going to evacuate right there on the bike! I was mortified, and ran to the bathroom, but Danielle thought I was having an asthma attack or a heart attack, and sent people to knock on the bathroom door to ensure that I was okay. It was horribly embarrassing, because of course I was having what used to be known as the "bloody flux" and I was in considerable pain. Once I managed to get out of the bathroom, Danielle had me lay on the floor, draw my knees up to my chest, breathe in deeply and out deeply and then squeeze my ab muscles whenever I felt a wave of colon pain about to hit. Much to my shock, it worked, and my pain lessened dramatically. I have never been told to do that before, and was thrilled that there is now someway to aleviate the pain when I am away from home and pain meds. Susie, one of the gals in the class actually drove me home, while another Danielle, who is a nurse, followed to make sure I was okay. Thank you, gals, and thanks Danielle for helping me out in my time of need. Even though I was embarrassed, it was still a lesson learned.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Whole Lotta Shakin' Going on
"Fitness is a journey, not a destination. It must be continued for the rest of your life."
Dr Kenneth Cooper, founder of the Cooper Aerobics Center and the man who coined the term "aerobics"
(I interviewed him once in the 1980s. He's a fascinating guy.)
Last weekend I managed to hurt my back somehow, and in seeing my doctor this past week, she said that I sprained a joint in my lower back (I didn't think I HAD a joint in my lower back, but it has been a long time since I studied Greys Anatomy). She gave me a prescription for pain meds that I can't take without getting very sleepy (so I obviously can't take them during the day) and recommended that I go to physical therapy to find out how to do abdominal exercises to strengthen my lower back. I explained to her that I have been doing abdominal exercises for over a year, and she said "Then you must have been doing them wrong." Oy.
I am blaming the back trouble on the Saturday surprise (last Saturday, not this one) class in which we were supposed to learn to salsa, samba and shimmy our hips to fast-paced Latin music. Unfortunately, my belly and hips just refused to swing and shake and sway that way. I ended up looking like a hippopotamus doing the hula. That and the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich that I succumbed to eating, filled with swell-inducing nitrates, I think had my back at a disadvantage.
So now I am trying to figure out ways to still exercise and not hurt my back further. Spin class has been okay, without any back-pulling manuvers, and I managed to get through balls and weights once, too. But kickboxing ala Janice nearly did me in. Billie usually teaches kickboxing, and its a fun aerobic workout, but Janice, as is her wont, is into extreme fitness, and her version of kickboxing involves a lot more leaping and kneeing the unseen enemy in the groin as you smash his face with a punch or a kick.
By the end of class I thought I was going to keel over. But that is generally how I feel after a Janice class. She gives no quarter, but by the same token, she doesn't expect us to do anything that she wouldn't do herself. She's always right in there, kicking, leaping and flinging out lethal blows to invisible enemies that make the rest of us look pretty wimpy.
I have to admire the woman. She has guts and underneath her no-nonsense exterior beats a kind heart. She is training to be at a bodybuilder competition, and I am astonished at how muscular she's become, particularly because she's only 5 feet tall (she seems much taller because her persona is 6 foot 4). Anyway, she's been eating carefully and lifting heavy weights and working her rump off, and I hope that she wins the first competition she enters at the end of the month. Go Janice go!
Meanwhile, though, I only made it to 4 workouts this week, and tomorrow I will take spin, but I hope that I've not set myself back by making and eating a couple dozen whole wheat craisin-raisin-oatmeal cookies with no egg or dairy, using only olive oil and some brown sugar, plus the flour, oatmeal etc. They were yummy, and I couldn't stop eating them. My addiction to sugar will not be denied!
Today I had a dutch apple bagel from Panera Breads that was heavenly! I also had a blueberry bagel with lettuce, tomato and turkey, and some baked chips (130 cal worth.) Yum. I wish we had a Panera Breads in Maple Valley, and a bookstore, but instead my whole family has to travel to Issaquah for those stores. Arg.
I happened to get a gift certificate to Lane Bryant and to Barnes and Noble as a late Xmas gift (Thanks Frank!) and I managed to get 120 worth of clothing for 20 bucks with my gift certificate and because of clearance discounts. YAY! And I have to say I was thrilled to note that I am a size 18/20 (more 18 than 20) when back in December 2006 I was a size 28. So I am getting there, ever so slowly, but inevitably. Here's hoping that I drop another couple of sizes this spring and summer!
It will soon be walking season, so I look forward to getting out there and hitting the local trails.
Dr Kenneth Cooper, founder of the Cooper Aerobics Center and the man who coined the term "aerobics"
(I interviewed him once in the 1980s. He's a fascinating guy.)
Last weekend I managed to hurt my back somehow, and in seeing my doctor this past week, she said that I sprained a joint in my lower back (I didn't think I HAD a joint in my lower back, but it has been a long time since I studied Greys Anatomy). She gave me a prescription for pain meds that I can't take without getting very sleepy (so I obviously can't take them during the day) and recommended that I go to physical therapy to find out how to do abdominal exercises to strengthen my lower back. I explained to her that I have been doing abdominal exercises for over a year, and she said "Then you must have been doing them wrong." Oy.
I am blaming the back trouble on the Saturday surprise (last Saturday, not this one) class in which we were supposed to learn to salsa, samba and shimmy our hips to fast-paced Latin music. Unfortunately, my belly and hips just refused to swing and shake and sway that way. I ended up looking like a hippopotamus doing the hula. That and the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich that I succumbed to eating, filled with swell-inducing nitrates, I think had my back at a disadvantage.
So now I am trying to figure out ways to still exercise and not hurt my back further. Spin class has been okay, without any back-pulling manuvers, and I managed to get through balls and weights once, too. But kickboxing ala Janice nearly did me in. Billie usually teaches kickboxing, and its a fun aerobic workout, but Janice, as is her wont, is into extreme fitness, and her version of kickboxing involves a lot more leaping and kneeing the unseen enemy in the groin as you smash his face with a punch or a kick.
By the end of class I thought I was going to keel over. But that is generally how I feel after a Janice class. She gives no quarter, but by the same token, she doesn't expect us to do anything that she wouldn't do herself. She's always right in there, kicking, leaping and flinging out lethal blows to invisible enemies that make the rest of us look pretty wimpy.
I have to admire the woman. She has guts and underneath her no-nonsense exterior beats a kind heart. She is training to be at a bodybuilder competition, and I am astonished at how muscular she's become, particularly because she's only 5 feet tall (she seems much taller because her persona is 6 foot 4). Anyway, she's been eating carefully and lifting heavy weights and working her rump off, and I hope that she wins the first competition she enters at the end of the month. Go Janice go!
Meanwhile, though, I only made it to 4 workouts this week, and tomorrow I will take spin, but I hope that I've not set myself back by making and eating a couple dozen whole wheat craisin-raisin-oatmeal cookies with no egg or dairy, using only olive oil and some brown sugar, plus the flour, oatmeal etc. They were yummy, and I couldn't stop eating them. My addiction to sugar will not be denied!
Today I had a dutch apple bagel from Panera Breads that was heavenly! I also had a blueberry bagel with lettuce, tomato and turkey, and some baked chips (130 cal worth.) Yum. I wish we had a Panera Breads in Maple Valley, and a bookstore, but instead my whole family has to travel to Issaquah for those stores. Arg.
I happened to get a gift certificate to Lane Bryant and to Barnes and Noble as a late Xmas gift (Thanks Frank!) and I managed to get 120 worth of clothing for 20 bucks with my gift certificate and because of clearance discounts. YAY! And I have to say I was thrilled to note that I am a size 18/20 (more 18 than 20) when back in December 2006 I was a size 28. So I am getting there, ever so slowly, but inevitably. Here's hoping that I drop another couple of sizes this spring and summer!
It will soon be walking season, so I look forward to getting out there and hitting the local trails.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Going With Your Gut
I've only recently become the kind of person who heeds her gut instinct when dealing with people from the past.
I got an email yesterday from a woman claiming to be someone I went to college with in the early 1980s. This woman, whom we will call "PIN," for Pain in the Neck, was a real piece of work when I met her. She had few friends because she was, to be honest, strange in both her manner and her dress, especially for small town Iowa collegiate life. She had a form of epilepsy that made her seem to "go away" from her conscious mind when she was having a seizure, so one minute she'd be talking to you, and the next she'd be staring vacantly ahead, unable to move her body or talk. Someone would have to grab her by the arm and walk her back to her dorm room and lock her in until she would "wake" up. One time, I recall that she couldn't be moved or woken up for three whole days, during which time she lay in a soiled bed staring, glassy-eyed, at the ceiling, looking like a corpse. When she was awake, so to speak, she wasn't really a very nice person, instead she was often sarcastic, rude and mean, which she seemed to think made her smart and witty. I befriended her because I knew what it was like to be the outsider, the one people considered strange and different because I was creative, a larger person, and smart enough to enjoy reading and literature.
I discovered that it wasn't that easy to be PINs friend. She was often loud and obnoxious, and she had no problem borrowing money from me (never returned, of course) and calling me at all hours of the day and night, and rambling on about her problems or things she wondered about that usually didn't make much sense. I asked her, many times, if she wouldn't mind calling me during the day, or talking to me at lunch or some more convenient time for me, as I don't do well without a full 6-8 hours of sleep. And I often got called by PIN at 3 am when I had a test the next day. She cared nothing for my protests or pleas, however, and would shout "Wake up, soggy bread!" whenever I'd doze off during one of her diatribes. She refused to listen to any of my problems, of course, lest we get off her favorite subject--herself. She was a taker, and, having grown up as the middle child-problem-solver of my family, I ended up being the giver who got taken advantage of, over and over. I didn't have a clue how to say no back then. Several friends, including my best buddies Monica and Muff, often told me that I needed to listen to my gut and jettison people who abused my friendship. "You are not responsible for other peoples happiness!" I recall Monica telling me that, and Muff saying "Stop being a doormat, tell people NO once in awhile!"
So I finally listened to my gut one night my senior year, and I told PIN in no uncertain terms that I did NOT want her calling me at odd hours any more. Period. She threatened me to try and get me to fall back into line by saying that she would contact my mother, go to lunch with her and lie to her, telling her of all sorts of sordid sexual exploits I was supposed to have achieved while in college. Knowing that my stock hadn't risen with my mother since I didn't 'side' with her in her very messy divorce from my father 3 years earlier, I told PIN to go right ahead, she couldn't tarnish my reputation any more than it already was. I was allowed blessed nights of sleep without interruption thereafter. She sent me photos of herself with my mother at lunch, and I asked my mother what they talked about, but she refused to tell me. My mother, at the time, was more focused on her marriage to my new stepfather and her new home in the Southwest. Our relationship didn't really seem to suffer at all, so I dismissed the incident as no big deal. Then I get an email from PIN saying she's been thinking a lot about me lately. Huh. So I wrote and asked her if she was the same person who had epilepsy, who used to call me at all hours of the night and who had the ill-fated luncheon with my mother. I explained that I am now a wife, mother and successful journalist who really doesn't have time for 3 am phone calls. In other words, I've grown up, and I'm no longer a doormat. PIN didn't take to those comments, naturally, and said that I'm not the person she once knew. I wanted to say, damn straight, chica, I am not going to be used by takers like you again. She promised not to write back to me ever again, and I can only say that I will be relieved if I never do hear from her again. She was a waste of time and energy, and certainly not a good friend to me.
In exercise news, I worked out 6 times this week! Woot! Todays spin class was still tough, though, after yesterdays overeating festival of soy pizza, molasses cookies, potato salad and ham. I had fun watching movies on DVD while pigging out, though.
I got an email yesterday from a woman claiming to be someone I went to college with in the early 1980s. This woman, whom we will call "PIN," for Pain in the Neck, was a real piece of work when I met her. She had few friends because she was, to be honest, strange in both her manner and her dress, especially for small town Iowa collegiate life. She had a form of epilepsy that made her seem to "go away" from her conscious mind when she was having a seizure, so one minute she'd be talking to you, and the next she'd be staring vacantly ahead, unable to move her body or talk. Someone would have to grab her by the arm and walk her back to her dorm room and lock her in until she would "wake" up. One time, I recall that she couldn't be moved or woken up for three whole days, during which time she lay in a soiled bed staring, glassy-eyed, at the ceiling, looking like a corpse. When she was awake, so to speak, she wasn't really a very nice person, instead she was often sarcastic, rude and mean, which she seemed to think made her smart and witty. I befriended her because I knew what it was like to be the outsider, the one people considered strange and different because I was creative, a larger person, and smart enough to enjoy reading and literature.
I discovered that it wasn't that easy to be PINs friend. She was often loud and obnoxious, and she had no problem borrowing money from me (never returned, of course) and calling me at all hours of the day and night, and rambling on about her problems or things she wondered about that usually didn't make much sense. I asked her, many times, if she wouldn't mind calling me during the day, or talking to me at lunch or some more convenient time for me, as I don't do well without a full 6-8 hours of sleep. And I often got called by PIN at 3 am when I had a test the next day. She cared nothing for my protests or pleas, however, and would shout "Wake up, soggy bread!" whenever I'd doze off during one of her diatribes. She refused to listen to any of my problems, of course, lest we get off her favorite subject--herself. She was a taker, and, having grown up as the middle child-problem-solver of my family, I ended up being the giver who got taken advantage of, over and over. I didn't have a clue how to say no back then. Several friends, including my best buddies Monica and Muff, often told me that I needed to listen to my gut and jettison people who abused my friendship. "You are not responsible for other peoples happiness!" I recall Monica telling me that, and Muff saying "Stop being a doormat, tell people NO once in awhile!"
So I finally listened to my gut one night my senior year, and I told PIN in no uncertain terms that I did NOT want her calling me at odd hours any more. Period. She threatened me to try and get me to fall back into line by saying that she would contact my mother, go to lunch with her and lie to her, telling her of all sorts of sordid sexual exploits I was supposed to have achieved while in college. Knowing that my stock hadn't risen with my mother since I didn't 'side' with her in her very messy divorce from my father 3 years earlier, I told PIN to go right ahead, she couldn't tarnish my reputation any more than it already was. I was allowed blessed nights of sleep without interruption thereafter. She sent me photos of herself with my mother at lunch, and I asked my mother what they talked about, but she refused to tell me. My mother, at the time, was more focused on her marriage to my new stepfather and her new home in the Southwest. Our relationship didn't really seem to suffer at all, so I dismissed the incident as no big deal. Then I get an email from PIN saying she's been thinking a lot about me lately. Huh. So I wrote and asked her if she was the same person who had epilepsy, who used to call me at all hours of the night and who had the ill-fated luncheon with my mother. I explained that I am now a wife, mother and successful journalist who really doesn't have time for 3 am phone calls. In other words, I've grown up, and I'm no longer a doormat. PIN didn't take to those comments, naturally, and said that I'm not the person she once knew. I wanted to say, damn straight, chica, I am not going to be used by takers like you again. She promised not to write back to me ever again, and I can only say that I will be relieved if I never do hear from her again. She was a waste of time and energy, and certainly not a good friend to me.
In exercise news, I worked out 6 times this week! Woot! Todays spin class was still tough, though, after yesterdays overeating festival of soy pizza, molasses cookies, potato salad and ham. I had fun watching movies on DVD while pigging out, though.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Not Again!
This past week I had a sore throat and stuffy nose, so I spent 5 hours Thursday at the local Urgent Care facility (my primary care physician is in the hospital and her cohorts are booked for weeks), only to hear that my x-ray showed patches of pneumonia in my chest, again! ARG! I was hoping after having pneumonia in November and December that I was done with it for awhile.
Why can't I just have strep throat like everyone else?
But I have taken my Zithromax and feel like I am on the mend, so now its back to working out. My husband and son sat on me for three days to keep me from exercising when I was sick. I did manage to attend spin class with the adorable Angela on Sunday, and I was wiped out by the time class was over.
I'm going to be following two gals, one ten pounds heavier than I am, and one about ten pounds lighter, for the next 8 weeks for the Commit 2 Fit program sponsored by Road Runner Sports in Kent. I am looking forward to chronicling their journey and hopefully learning some tips to help me in my quest for fitness at the same time.
Over 60 people showed up at the kick off event last Thursday, 99 percent women and one brave guy. All were weighed and measured and had digital gait analysis to get them fit for athletic shoes. Sharon, the nutritionist, started everyone off on building 8 good habits for healthy lifestyles by admonishing them all to drink a lot of water this week and keep track of everything they eat. She's going to evaluate everyones diet and talk about where improvements can be made thursday this week. I imagine Sharon would be shocked if she could see that I eat a bowl of cereal with sugar for a snack usually once a day. So its my one sugar fix, but I have a hard time giving it up. That is probably why those 4 pounds that found me during the holidays haven't left my hips yet. Sigh.
Tonight its cardio lift with Suzanne. I hope I can breathe through the class.
Why can't I just have strep throat like everyone else?
But I have taken my Zithromax and feel like I am on the mend, so now its back to working out. My husband and son sat on me for three days to keep me from exercising when I was sick. I did manage to attend spin class with the adorable Angela on Sunday, and I was wiped out by the time class was over.
I'm going to be following two gals, one ten pounds heavier than I am, and one about ten pounds lighter, for the next 8 weeks for the Commit 2 Fit program sponsored by Road Runner Sports in Kent. I am looking forward to chronicling their journey and hopefully learning some tips to help me in my quest for fitness at the same time.
Over 60 people showed up at the kick off event last Thursday, 99 percent women and one brave guy. All were weighed and measured and had digital gait analysis to get them fit for athletic shoes. Sharon, the nutritionist, started everyone off on building 8 good habits for healthy lifestyles by admonishing them all to drink a lot of water this week and keep track of everything they eat. She's going to evaluate everyones diet and talk about where improvements can be made thursday this week. I imagine Sharon would be shocked if she could see that I eat a bowl of cereal with sugar for a snack usually once a day. So its my one sugar fix, but I have a hard time giving it up. That is probably why those 4 pounds that found me during the holidays haven't left my hips yet. Sigh.
Tonight its cardio lift with Suzanne. I hope I can breathe through the class.
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