" I'm not going to look in the mirror and get disappointed that I don't look the way I want to now. It will come. But it will take a while. And you know...that's ok. I'm changing. When the changes come and are visible...then great, but it's ok if I don't see them yet. I just know that everyday I'm going to make better decisions." from a post on SparkPeople message boards.
I want to get into the groove of the above poster. I want to not be so frustrated and disappointed in myself because I still have a belly. I want to be able to eat one serving of food and be satisfied.
But let me state that this can, and will happen, its just a matter of time and a battle of wills with my passionate self.
I'm a sensualist, in that I love tasting, smelling, feeling, hearing and seeing beautiful things, and even ordinary things. I find joy in the sound of the creek in our backyard, the smell of fresh concrete and the sound of children laughing. I adore the feel of velvet and satin, combed cotton or fluffy chenile against my skin.
And I love the taste of food.
I have no problem eating healthy, mainly because I grew up eating healthy foods that my mother prepared. She also managed to bake a number of great treats in her kitchen, and I indulged my sweet tooth often, because the steroids I had to take for asthma left me with no feeling of satiety. I was always hungry, didn't matter if I'd just had dinner or not. But I did eat something from the four food groups at every meal, and I learned to love the flavors of fresh food. We got all our meat from my grandparents farms, so I also grew up with real Angus beef that wasn't fed any hormones or antibiotics. Yet I wasn't very fond of beef, and for the most part I ate small amounts because I wasn't all that fond of the taste of steak (though I always loved roasts and stews). We always had a truck patch in our backyard, and grew a lot of our own veggies, as did our neighbors, so we'd swap pounds of tomatoes for pounds of pole beans and cucumbers for beets or muskmelon (anyone outside of Iowa calls them cantaloupes). Since moving to Seattle, a whole world of seafood tastes have opened up to me, and I've come to adore sushi and salmon, tilapia and tuna.
My problem with eating good food has been that I love it too much...I eat more than one serving of blueberries, more than one serving of fish, more than two servings of broccoli.
Now that I'm in boot camp, Janice is having none of this excess portions, and came to my home yesterday to show me how much I can eat.
She showed me that in making a cup of my pinhead or steel cut oatmeal, and then eating the resultant several cups, I am eating somewhere around 8 servings of food, which isn't a good idea calorie wise or belly-wise. She grabbed a small plate from my cupboard and showed me that I could eat a fist-sized serving of each food, protein, carb, veg/fruit, for each meal, but that was all. No seconds or thirds of pasta, no 3 cups of salad.
I am going to have to get used to not being so enamored of my taste buds that I keep eating until I am full. I will have to be a bit hungry until my stomach shrinks up, something I am not looking forward to at all. The sensualist who is passionate about beautiful food and all the other senses is going to have to tone it down when it comes to my lust for taste.
Ah passion, its such a double-edged sword, especially for someone with an Italian heart.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Discouraged about Veg
I've enrolled in Janice's very tough 4 week boot camp, mainly because she's been kind enough to give me a free ride, (because I'd written a story about her bodybuilding journey) and because Carol says that I have graduated from the easier 6 week boot camp and I'm ready for a good pounding from Janice.
The first week started out on the wrong foot, when I ate a cup of Kalamata olives the Sunday night before and bloated up with 6 extra pounds of water weight. I was astonished at the number on the scale, but was being processed so quickly that I didn't say anything to Janice about it. Then I noticed that there were 8 or more men in the group, and that many of the women were hardbodies who didn't look like they really needed any kind of fitness challenge. I was only able to jog and walk in intervals for a mile, and my time was a wince-inducing 18 minutes. Almost everyone else did the mile in 9-14 minutes.
Then Janice made it clear that she's not Carol by having us do tons of push ups for even small infractions, such as being late or, as one guy in the class found out, eating pancakes for breakfast on a Sunday with his wife. He had to do 140 push ups, poor guy, and Janice refused to allow us to break up the push ups into smaller increments and do them over several sessions. I got 40 extra push ups for eating two mini-Luna bars and then, the next day when I only ate 1, she gave me 60 push ups because she said I should have known better than to eat one again. ARG!
But despite that one set back, I thought that I was doing okay, until Janice drove me home Friday after boot camp class (it was too hot to be outdoors) and told me, after I related what I was eating, that I can't have more than one cup of lettuce salad or steamed broccoli. I generally have two cups of salad with a can of tuna mixed with hummus atop it, and I love broccoli so I tend to eat at least a couple of cups of it. "You can't be full," Janice told me. "You can eat until you are satisfied, but not until you are full." When I tried to explain to her that those are the same things to me, she said that they aren't the same at all. Apparently I am supposed to still be hungry all the time, I am assuming so that my stomach will shrink in capacity.
When I was in my 20s, I didn't mind going hungry, and in fact I got used to it after awhile. But now, 20 years later, I don't feel the same about being hungry. I don't really know if its worth it to me to starve myself again, just to lose a few pounds.
I also struggle like crazy in boot camp. I am nearly always the last in line, and it takes me more time to get through the exercises than it does anyone else. Plus, in last nights boot camp at Cedar River Park, we did an obstacle course that involved a lot of jumping and leaping, which is really hard on my left knee (which tends to hurt and give out on me) and by the time we had finished an hour of it, I was so wiped out I felt like I was going to keel over.
I find myself being discouraged, exhausted and questioning whether or not I should stay in this boot camp, or quit and just keep going with my regular WIO schedule of classes 5-6 times a week.
I do have a goal, and that 65 pounds is bound to come off of me at some point, but I just don't know if I can gut this out. The stress is terrible, there is only one person in the boot camp whom I can relate to, and she doesn't come to the camp but twice or three times a week, and not always on the same nights that I do. Everyone else in the camp seems to be keeping their distance from the lone fat gal, and when I tried to make a joke last night about my boobs jiggling too much, no one even bothered to laugh or act like they'd heard me. I felt invisible. And that's another problem, I can't seem to find a decent sports bra that allows me to do all this jumping around without having my big breasts flap and flop all over the place, which is embarrassing.
So I feel fat and stupid and like I have failed, and I am only 1 week and 1 day into boot camp.
What should I do?
The first week started out on the wrong foot, when I ate a cup of Kalamata olives the Sunday night before and bloated up with 6 extra pounds of water weight. I was astonished at the number on the scale, but was being processed so quickly that I didn't say anything to Janice about it. Then I noticed that there were 8 or more men in the group, and that many of the women were hardbodies who didn't look like they really needed any kind of fitness challenge. I was only able to jog and walk in intervals for a mile, and my time was a wince-inducing 18 minutes. Almost everyone else did the mile in 9-14 minutes.
Then Janice made it clear that she's not Carol by having us do tons of push ups for even small infractions, such as being late or, as one guy in the class found out, eating pancakes for breakfast on a Sunday with his wife. He had to do 140 push ups, poor guy, and Janice refused to allow us to break up the push ups into smaller increments and do them over several sessions. I got 40 extra push ups for eating two mini-Luna bars and then, the next day when I only ate 1, she gave me 60 push ups because she said I should have known better than to eat one again. ARG!
But despite that one set back, I thought that I was doing okay, until Janice drove me home Friday after boot camp class (it was too hot to be outdoors) and told me, after I related what I was eating, that I can't have more than one cup of lettuce salad or steamed broccoli. I generally have two cups of salad with a can of tuna mixed with hummus atop it, and I love broccoli so I tend to eat at least a couple of cups of it. "You can't be full," Janice told me. "You can eat until you are satisfied, but not until you are full." When I tried to explain to her that those are the same things to me, she said that they aren't the same at all. Apparently I am supposed to still be hungry all the time, I am assuming so that my stomach will shrink in capacity.
When I was in my 20s, I didn't mind going hungry, and in fact I got used to it after awhile. But now, 20 years later, I don't feel the same about being hungry. I don't really know if its worth it to me to starve myself again, just to lose a few pounds.
I also struggle like crazy in boot camp. I am nearly always the last in line, and it takes me more time to get through the exercises than it does anyone else. Plus, in last nights boot camp at Cedar River Park, we did an obstacle course that involved a lot of jumping and leaping, which is really hard on my left knee (which tends to hurt and give out on me) and by the time we had finished an hour of it, I was so wiped out I felt like I was going to keel over.
I find myself being discouraged, exhausted and questioning whether or not I should stay in this boot camp, or quit and just keep going with my regular WIO schedule of classes 5-6 times a week.
I do have a goal, and that 65 pounds is bound to come off of me at some point, but I just don't know if I can gut this out. The stress is terrible, there is only one person in the boot camp whom I can relate to, and she doesn't come to the camp but twice or three times a week, and not always on the same nights that I do. Everyone else in the camp seems to be keeping their distance from the lone fat gal, and when I tried to make a joke last night about my boobs jiggling too much, no one even bothered to laugh or act like they'd heard me. I felt invisible. And that's another problem, I can't seem to find a decent sports bra that allows me to do all this jumping around without having my big breasts flap and flop all over the place, which is embarrassing.
So I feel fat and stupid and like I have failed, and I am only 1 week and 1 day into boot camp.
What should I do?
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Baby Got Front
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!"
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!"
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.
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