Better Than A Cheeseburger

Every Tuesday I wake with a knot in my stomach.  This knot is partially excitement - as I know that I will start my day off with a kick-ass workout at Clay - and partially fear - as I know that I will start my day off with a kick-ass workout at Clay.

Don't get me wrong - I love nothing better than knocking out a heart-pumping, sweat-inducing, muscle-fatiguing workout with Hyam.  I don't, however, always appreciate it first thing in the morning.

Yesterday morning, however, I had a knot for a different reason. I woke to a text that said Hyam's dog was very, very sick and she was going to have to cancel. I'm a huge dog lover and I know that Hyam's dog means the world to her, so the knot started out of sympathy and fear, rather than excitement.  I also knew that sick dog or not, Hyam was NOT going to let me get off without a workout, so that knot continued to grow out of anticipation as I waited to hear from her. 

Over the next hour we determined that it would be best for me to stay home with KK, who was sick again (damn cold & flu season) and make up the session at Friday's Athletic Training class. This left me with 2 options for Tuesday - 1) allow myself to take a day off (I have been working really hard lately...) or 2) workout on my own. 

Hmmm.....what to do?

Something crazy must be in the air because by noon I could no longer stand the feeling of having not worked out and I found myself hopping on a treadmill and running for 45 minutes. What? Follow that up with several hours of hauling Christmas decorations to the attic (yes, I know it's mid-January - don't judge) and I had myself a workout!

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the workout I would've had a Clay, but I did get off my ass and burn some calories. And I ran. I RAN, people! Later in a text Hyam commended my efforts and my response was "Well, it was no personal training session with you, but it was better than a nap and a cheeseburger." Sounds funny now, but this was probably what I would've done a few months ago if given the opportunity to miss a session. I may have even added in a glass of wine.  It was my day off, after all, I deserved it, right?

It hit me later that night not only how backwards it is that I tend to reward myself on my "off days", but that just doing something - anything - is better than doing nothing at all.  Would I have benefited from a more intense workout? Definitely. But did I benefit from what I ended up doing? Fo sho.

Progress Report Part II

A few weeks I posted a "Progress Report" that gave the low down on where I'm at in my journey from a physical standpoint, so now I thought I'd give a little info on the emotional side of things.

My two main struggles have been eating healthy (if there is such a thing as a sugar addiction, I have it) and making working out a priority when life gets crazy (and beyond crazy, as it has been lately).  While I definitely wasn't "swimsuit ready" by the time we departed for Panama, I'm in such a better place both physically and mentally than I was 9 months ago that I can truly say I feel I've been successful in this journey so far.

I emphasize "so far" because I assume that I will be on this journey for the rest of my life.  Don't worry, I won't blog about it forever - hopefully once I reach that "magic number" or somewhere near it I'll feel I've reached the end of this story and be able to move on to another one.  But that won't be the end of my journey to be (and stay) fit and happy.  Life fluctuates on a daily or weekly (or sometimes hourly!) basis, and I'm not naive enough to believe that being thin will change any of that.  That's why I keep calling this a "journey".  It's not a diet or a phase or a fad - it's my life.  And I see life as a journey in itself.  The changing nature of it is what makes it so fun - and challenging - for all.

Pain Relief

It occurred to me this morning as I was frantically trying to make it out the door to the 6am class (making up for Wednesday), that something was missing from my morning routine.  

Recall that when I started this "journey to health" I was pretty out of shape.  Shin splints plagued me when I did almost any form of exercise, let alone running.  During the workouts sometimes the pain would be so intense that I couldn't complete an exercise.  Other times I'd simply grin and bear it because I knew I had to get it done. To minimize the pain I took 4 Advil every day before class, 4 around lunch time and 4 more before bed. I was taking 12 Advil a day almost on a daily basis!

No, I wasn't addicted to Advil, I was simply doing what I had to do at the time to get through.  Those Advil were as essential to my workout as my shoes and sports bra (you know how I feel about a good sports bra!).  If I forgot them I could kiss a good workout good-bye.

Today, however, I didn't take any Advil.  Somewhere along the way I stopped needing the relief those four little pills gave me because I no longer had any pain.  Amazing what losing 20+ pounds can do for your body!

I went to a specialist quite a few years ago about my shin splints when having trouble with them even while swimming.  They took X-rays, did a bone scan and all that good stuff only to come back to me with what I already knew - I had shin splints.  I clearly remember asking the doctor, "I've gained a significant amount of weight in the past few years, do you think losing it would help?"  "No," he said, "You'll just have to live with them."  Now I know my shin splints are not solely caused by my weight, but what a great moment that would've been for him to tell me - a moderately overweight, young woman - to take charge of her health, but instead he told me to "live with it".  

Well doc, I'm not going to live with that or any of the other physical or emotional pain my weight has caused me in the past.  I'm going to continue to take charge of my journey and change all of the negative outcomes it could've caused me.  Just watch & see! 

Life is Like a BOSU

The other day a few friends and I were sarcastically expressing our "love" for the BOSU on Twitter.  I admitted that I have a love-hate relationship with this piece of equipment.  Love because it's so good for so many parts of my body.   Hate because, well, it can really suck.  (Not to mention that it's a known fact at Clay that it's not safe to stand next to me when proprioceptive abilities are called into play, which they are every second you're on the BOSU). 

If you haven't used a BOSU I challenge you to try it (most gyms have them). Essentially it's half a balance ball with a flat middle that can be used for a million different exercises and for every part of your body.  At Clay we use it for everything from push-ups (inverted with the round part facing the ground) to jump squats and lunges -  and everything in between.  What challenges me most, however, is balancing on it.  


I fall off every once and awhile (ok, quite frequently) but I always get back on.  It reminds me a little of life and this journey that I am on.  Last week, for instance, was a fabulous week.  The kids went back to school, work started flowing, and I was back on my regular schedule at Clay. I lost 3 pounds in a week and felt like I was balancing with ease! This week, however, was quite different.  It started off great - with a killer workout at Clay in the new studio.  I was pumped when I left there - certain my balance was completely in check.  However, a few hours later it all changed.  M got a migraine that afternoon, the Spicy Chicken was really late from work and at 6 I realized I'd forgotten to defrost the fish so our healthy dinner didn't pan out. Tuesday I got a call from the nurse again and found myself driving to the school at 2pm instead of taking my afternoon run with Scout. Due to M's illness I had to miss an important committee meeting at 5, which frustrated me enough to eat chocolate for dinner.  On Wednesday school was on a 2-hour delay so I missed Clay and that afternoon K came home with a fever (again no run). The Spicy Chicken was late, stressed and drinking wine that evening so I, of course, had to join him. Today is Thursday and I am sitting in the living room with K at my side as we are waiting to head to the doctor's office.


Obviously I didn't just stumble off this week - I threw myself to the ground. As a parent, this is what you do when something happens with your kids, but it's where many of us let things get out of control.  It's inevitable that life is going to get tough and we're going lose our balance at times. Sometimes we even fall off. The important part, however, is that we hop back on and keep trying.  It's not always easy - and sometimes it's embarrassing (like in the middle of class - or on a public blog!).  But one thing I learned from the BOSU is that sometimes the falling off isn't so bad because when you get back on you discover that you're getting stronger and you can do it!


K is asleep on the couch so I'm heading to the garage to use the jump rope I got for Christmas (love this thing!).  I probably only have a 30 minute window before she starts calling my name again, but if I don't climb back on the BOSU right now I know it will be even harder to do tomorrow.  

Learning to Love

About 6 months after the Spicy Chicken and I got engaged I called off the wedding.  We were living together at the time so he went to stay with his parents for a few days to sort through his own feelings.  When he got back he told me he loved me but he couldn't love me enough for both of us - I needed to learn to love myself.

Sounds like a line out of a movie, but it's a true story. It forced me to do some major soul searching.  Did I really not love myself?  Turns out I didn't even like myself all that much, but I  did love him, so I took steps to get there.  Hard to imagine that with all that therapy I'm right back where I started.

I love a lot of people.  And I actually love a lot of things (like really great shoes, a fabulous glass of wine, the sound of the ocean, etc).  Ironic then, isn't it, that I'm finding it so difficult to love myself?

This isn't a new revelation.  I've struggled with it my whole life - which is again ironic, considering that I was raised in a house with a lot of love.  My parents, who were high school sweethearts, just celebrated their 45th Anniversary. They came to my games - celebrated my successes - and stuck by me when I made mistakes.  I'm sure I hated them when I was a teenager, but they were terrific parents and I knew that even then.  My sister and I did the normal sibling thing - arguing over clothes, fighting over the bathroom, throwing forks at one another (or maybe that was just me) - but I was always pretty sure she loved me (would she have told me about the dead bodies and flamingoes if she didn't?).  She's my best friend.

Looking back I realize I had what others probably thought was an enviable life (it was).  Yet no matter what I did I was never satisfied with what I achieved.  I've often thought that this insatiability helped push me harder and thus achieve more, but I've found that it can also work in the opposite direction.  I see that now quite clearly.  

Despite all the love that people are showing me and the progress that I've made (inside and out) I still find it hard to feel good about it.  So I've lost 12 pounds - why haven't I lost 15?  My face looks thinner - why is my stomach still so fat? I'm working my ass off in class - why aren't I working harder?  Negative self talk.  I remember it well.  

So, add this to the list of things I need to work on.  Gosh, it's getting long....

      

Inspiration

Below you will find an e-mail that I received from a friend yesterday.  I've posted it here, with her permission, for several reasons.  I thought it would be inspirational to other people - as so many of us battle with motivation from time to time - or even every day.  I also found it so encouraging to know that through my writing we are inspiring one another along this journey.  Some people think it's crazy that I'm being so open about all of this, but the rewards I've received have surpassed anything I imagined.  In just a few weeks I've been able to touch people from all over the country - and in turn I've got a support system that stretches from California to Virginia and everywhere in between.

I wanted to let you know how inspirational you've been...

I really didn't want to go to the gym today. In fact I was considering working through lunch. Pathetic, no?! However, I thought of you and went to the gym.

I had planned to run today. I got to the gym and didn't have a lot of juice in my IPod. Tried to convince myself to do something a little less intense. Thought of you and got my butt on the treadmill.

10 minutes into my 20 minute interval run I thought, 'I'm just going to stop, I can't run another step.' Instead I slowed the pace, just slightly and kept on running. I then got off the treadmill and did some rockin' abs.

All this because of your journey and all the feelings in me you've tapped into. I want you to know that you're not in this alone and many of us our on our own personal fitness quests because you have been so kind and so brave to share your struggles and triumphs. We are soul sisters through this and I want to let you know that I'm here for you - I'll provide as much long-distance support as I can.

Truth in Photos

A few days ago a friend suggested that I post "Before and After" pics on the blog. Though he was joking I don't think it's such a bad idea.  If posting a picture of yourself at the heaviest you've weighed in your entire life for the whole world to see doesn't kick the vanity out of you nothing will! 

Plus, I can't really expect people to get behind me if they don't actually see what's happening. Many, if not most, of you reading this haven't seen me for quite awhile (like 10 - 20 years!) . You may remember me as that 115 pound high school tennis player or 125 pound college sorority girl or 135 pound young woman searching for her career. I still play tennis (though not very well), I still heart the brown and mode (a Gamma Phi thing) and finally figured what I wanted to be when I grew up (thanks to Jennifer Stender-Hawkins and SuzySaid!) but unfortunately your memory of my appearance would be very wrong.  Somewhere between there and here I managed to become fulfilled but also filled out.  

The problem is, I've searched through all of our photos from the past 6 months and there are very few of me - and absolutely none of my entire body.  I'm always the one behind the camera and on the rare occasion that a picture of me is taken, I usually delete it.   Occasionally I will take one with the girls, but that's a head shot only.  And if it weren't for the two beauties next to me I'd delete those too.

So added to my "To Do" list this week is to get a picture posted on here.  I can promise that it will not be Biggest Loser-esque (a sports bra and biker shorts)  or like those bikini-clad diet pill ads in Family Circle - it will be me and my 40 extra pounds - just waiting on a change.

Looking Good!

Today I had my second workout with Hyam.  I'm about 5 hours post workout right now so I'm still up and moving, though I have a feeling tomorrow I may not be quite so fortunate.  Again, however, I will say that my attitude is in a really good place and though it wasn't easy I know I'm working my ass off - and that feels incredible!

My friend Laura will be working out with Hyam and I for the month of May. She is actually the one who introduced me to Clay Fitness (thank you, Laura). While I think she is absolutely gorgeous and doesn't need to lose a single pound (and those who know her would agree) my perception isn't what matters.  She's turning 40 this weekend and is ready to - as she said - get her body back.  

After the workout (while waiting for my arms to stop shaking) we chatted about what we are doing and why.  And though we are in different places when it comes to our weight, body image, etc. we both agreed on something - we want to look good.

The premise of this journey - and why I'm calling it "Finding Amy" - is that I am searching for the me that is hiding under all these "layers" - layers of fat, layers of clothing, and definitely layers of psychological damage. I am cognizant of the fact that this is going to be an emotional journey as well as a physical one (I do have a B.A. in psychology, afterall).  

Maybe I haven't been so honest, however, about the more vain side of this.  It's true - I want to look good.  Not so that I can meet some hot guy or so some social clique accepts me like I may have in my youth, but because I like looking good.  I love clothes - especially good ones.  But at my size I can't wear most of what I love because they don't fit me or I just don't feel comfortable in them.  Strappy little sundresses?  With these boobs? Yeah, right!  Skinny jeans?  Only with a sweater that covers my mid-section and my butt.  And swimsuits?  Now that Spanx started making them, maybe.  

So there you have it folks.  The journey has begun and I'm laying all my cards out on the table.  I'm in this for a major change both outside and in. The few steps I've taken in the right direction so far have been good ones - but there are many more ahead of me.