A Total Creature Of Habit…

I belong to a gym with several branches. I typically go to the one closest to my home, but it is light on the amenities. If I drive another 7 miles, I get towel service, nicer locker rooms, and a better view during my workout. With the price of gas and my inability to take an extra 15 minutes for travel each way, I typically just shower at home and skip the locker room altogether. Well, my workout (35/200) got pushed back in the day until it was too close to my class meeting to come all the way home to shower, so I headed to the plush gym.

Ya know, I had the hardest time functioning at the “other” gym. They have the same elliptical trainers, but different weight machines. So, I did my run to nowhere, but skipped the weights. I just couldn’t get my brain to do the adjustment. It took me just about forever to get showered, dressed, and out of there, too.

Oh, and since I had to go to a different gym I didn’t get an update on the guy who had the seizure. Sorry ’bout that. I keep thinking about him, though.

Soap Box of the Day: As I have mentioned, I have finally gone back to college after being away for several years. I attend a satellite campus that is about 2 hours from the main campus, so we have to do a bunch of stuff by phone (no they are not internet savvy.) Well, I am trying to find my book for the next class so I called the school bookstore to get the ISBN, and the girl who answered told me that it is their policy not to tell us that. They have switched to a new system of numbering (likely to prevent our purchasing the books elsewhere) and only those numbers can be told to students. When I asked if that policy was a written policy she offered to “let me talk to someone.”

When I got the bookstore manager on the phone, he made me wait about 10 minutes on hold (the store is the size of a one-car garage) before he gave me a number, but it doesn’t have all of the digits. Nice, huh? He left one out. I would say it was on purpose. He thought he was dealing with an amateur, because it only took me about 5 minutes online to find the book – at less than half what the school wants for it.

I am getting really fed up with this money-grabbing school I am attending. It is bad enough that they charge us more tuition than the on-campus students. But then they mark the books up above the list price and then charge us an outrageous shipping fee. And now, the only people who have the book edition info are the ones who *make money selling the books* and want to protect their interests by not giving us enough information to make a purchase unless we get it through them.

Argh!

Update on The Guy…

A couple of folks have asked about the guy who experienced the seizure. He fell very hard onto another elliptical trainer, where he had most of the seizure. There was some concern that he might have injured his neck/back, thus our having to keep him calm and on the floor. He was very disoriented and upset – and was still pretty out of it when he left for the hospital. He does have epilepsy, and his seizures are evidently few and far between – rare enough for him to drive. I am hoping to get an update when I go to the gym, tomorrow. I will let you know if I learn anything more.

After the ambulance left, my adreneline levels were through the roof, thus the continued workout. It felt like the best way to get calmed back down.

Life’s Never Dull…

Red CrossI overcame my serious apathy and headed out in the heat to complete workout 34/200. About 20 minutes into my run to nowhere, the guy on the elliptical trainer next to me experienced a grand mal seizure which threw him off of the machine, and rendered him unconscious for a couple of minutes. Everyone acted very quickly, and his dad and an ambulance were there in minutes. Luckily there was a doctor on the treadmill in front of us. (I thought it was only in the movies that a doctor was always hand for such emergencies, but evidently not.) He was able to sort of take over the scene and kept everyone calm.

For my part, I did manage to keep my wits about me long enough to call 911 (The dispatcher argued with me over where my gym is located. Gee, dude, I come here every day. I think I know where it is!) and talk the guy who had the seizure into staying on the floor until the ambulance arrived. He seemed scared and so I talked to him like I do my own kids. I am such a mom. It can be annoying to people who are attempting to exert their independence, but I mother everyone. It comes in handy when something like this happens.

(The preceding is a message brought to you by Gina’s New Mission to Be Self Affirming.)

Oh, and for you who tend toward the fitness-obsessed end of the scale, I did get back on the elliptical trainer for another 50 minutes.

Playing With My Food…

Cereal -- Photo by Gina LynetteI really love to eat. The sad thing is that I rarely take the time to eat something that is really yummy, but manage to overeat stuff that barely registers on the food radar. Why is that?

Oh, oh, wait! I know!

In my family, we have this strange value system that says, “If you enjoy it, then it isn’t work, and it doesn’t count.” Suffering is highly prized. I come from a long line of martyrs.

Hold on, there is a point, here.

So, if I eat something that I don’t enjoy, then I am not getting off easy. It doesn’t count against my martyr points. So, if I deny myself the Penne Gorgonzola and eat a bowl of cereal, even though the calorie counts might be similar, I am “working” by suffering through the cereal. Working = value. Cereal = increased value. Penne = pleasure = lower value. So, as long as I don’t enjoy the food it doesn’t count against me – even if it is not healthy or nutritious.

Ick! I don’t want to do the martyr bit.

I knew looking at the food was going to be a hard part of this whole challenge.

Soap Box of the Day: I am too tired to rant right now. I am so tired that I think I will simply curl up on the soap box and take a nap. Wake me when all is right with the world. Well, okay, then wake me up when the laundry is all put away.

Warning to Lurkers…

If you are reading this and not posting comments, you are officially a lurker. You may feel safe, but you aren’t. One day you will get overcome by the urge to say something in response to one of my brilliant posts and *blam* you will be exposed! You might even say something that gets me so inspired that I mention you by name in my next post along with a kick-your-ass challenge to lose 5 pounds by Labor Day. Impossible, you say? Well, scoff not, because I speak from experience.

Deep breaths.

I can lose 5 pounds by Labor Day. And I am so excited to think that in 6 weeks I could be well on my way through the 160’s. Of course, I am not going to get there eating Happy Meals with Allan. So, I promise to redouble my fitness efforts. I got a good start on it this afternoon by completing workout 33/200 with a 60 minute run to nowhere and a trip around the upper body and ab machines. But this is a double challenge – not just workouts but weight is on the line here – so I will also begin keeping track of my – gulp – food.

I am not going to determine a calorie/fat/carb/protein limit at this point. I am simply going to keep track of what I eat/drink and own it. You may follow along if you like.

Oh, and if you are interested in joining the challenge, head over to see Renee to get signed up.

Aunt Angie's GFCF Peanut Butter Cookies

Good thing Aunt Angie taught us to bake our own GFCF Peanut Butter cookies.

Soap Box of the Day: My kids are allergic to the majority of the American diet. I’m not kidding. Between the two of them, they are unable to eat oats, barley, wheat, rye, soy, chicken, pork, seafood, dairy, and many dyes. What do they eat? Well, lots of fresh fruits and veggies. And very, very expensive replacement grains.

What do I mean by expensive? Well, a package of 10 cookies runs $4.79. These aren’t large cookies. They make Oreos look like saucers. Hot dog buns? $4.00 for 4 half-length facsimiles. It isn’t like my kids live on cookies and hot dog buns, but they are kids and they want to eat what their friends eat – or at least something that passes for similar.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand that it costs more to make small batches of product on specially dedicated lines, but when I consider the fact that 80% of the ingredients in our food supply are absolutely unnecessary, I get peeved. There is no reason we should have to purchase a special brand of rice cereal – except that manufactures love to add “barley malt” or “caramel color” or dye to everything. Don’t even get me started on the phenolmethylstearate stuff.

Sigh. I guess what it really comes down to is my issues with the food battles I have had all my life. My parents were on a perpetual diet, and even though I was a skinny kid/teen I was watched like a hawk when I ate for fear I might take after them. I swore that food would be a non-issue with my kids; that I wouldn’t harp and portion and push or deny them what their bodies told them that they were hungry for. And it makes me nuts enough to have to tell my kids, “no” because of all of their dietary restrictions without the added barrier of the financial consideration.

Applying Knowledge from Other Areas…

Workout GearWhy am I so slow to apply knowledge from one area of my life to another??

I was thinking about the whole “sharing epiphany” thing while on my run to nowhere (32/200) this afternoon, and it occurred to me that I know a lot about individualized plans (talking about them, creating them, implementing them, and changing them) from my time spent in Disability World. The reason that they are individualized is because – wait for it – no two people are alike! Even two kids with the same diagnosis will require different plans for – say – teaching them math, because there is no way to distill someone down into a stereotype. I know this intimately, and yet, I didn’t apply it to my fitness quest/questions. We do it a bunch, you know, try to label people and simplify their personalities into some easy-to-define niche. I know better, and I still do it.

Michael Smull is one of the gurus of Person-Centered Planning. One of the activities he led us through in his workshop involved writing out our morning routines and then trading them with one another. The premise was that you would now have to follow the routine designed for you by the other person. It was eye-opening, to say the least. Of course, the exercise was to put us into the shoes of someone with a disability whose every waking moment is designed without their input. But it applies to fitness, too. Stick with me, here.

Let’s look at my fitness routine. I put my hair up in a ponytail. I wear long running pants, a jog bra, a tank top, white cotton turn down socks, and New Balance running shoes. I carry a bottle of water (with a packet of Emer’gen-C mixed in), my Rio (loaded with my favorite workout music), and a bar towel. I drink the fortified water as I am driving to the gym, and refill the bottle as soon as I arrive. I prefer to get on elliptical trainer #3, but sometimes it is taken, so I get on one of the others, but never #1 because it squeaks. I start my workout listening to Matchbox 20’s Unwell at 160 strides per minute. I typically stay on the elliptical trainer for an hour and then switch to the weight machines. I alternate leg and arm days, but do abs every day.

I could keep going, but you get the idea. Now, think about your typical routine for physical activity. At what point does my plan differ from yours? How long would it take you to run screaming if I handed you my plan and said, “This is what you *must* do lose 15 pounds in 8 weeks – oh wait, I have to give you my food plan, too…”??

So, regardless of how much I *love* my routine, how well it works for me, or how excited I am about it, I can’t expect you to start it up, too. This applies in the much larger sense of life choices, as well. Just because I am uncomfortable enough weighing 172.5 pounds to go to the gym nearly every day doesn’t mean that anyone else will – or even needs to! And just because The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd sent me on a spiritual journey that changed my life doesn’t mean anyone else will get what I got from it – or even like it!

We are individuals. We are different enough that no one plan/book/life will fit us all.

I am not the first to say that folks tend to get very excited about the choices they make that are successful for them. I know that I do. The trouble comes when we try to apply that information to other people. Sure, I can learn from what you do, but I can’t live your life. I’ve got my own, thanks.

Soap Box of the Day: I am not typically a violent person. As a matter of fact, I have quite the reputation for being a pacifist. But that all came very close to changing this afternoon at the gym. I was *thisclose* to finishing my routine (see above) and lacked one leg machine. The problem? There was this guy who was – you aren’t going to believe this – sitting on the machine reading the paper! Every 5 minutes or so he would give a half-hearted effort at 3 or 4 reps, but for the most part he was taking the afternoon to work through the sports section!! Now, if this had gone on for 2 or 3 “sets” I would have chalked it up to someone who needed a reeeeaaaallllyyyyy long recovery.

Nope. This went on for nearly a half an hour. Yes!! I thought about interrupting him, but by the time he got to his 4th set, I just had to see how long this would continue. Of all the nerve! It isn’t like my gym is loaded with machines. There is one circuit. That’s it! So, let this be a lesson people. If you are going to spend your Sunday reading the paper, please find a porch chair and leave the machines at the gym for the people who will be working out.

Thank you for your support.

Hey! Even *I* Can Do This…

Having completed workout 30/200 today, officially hitting the 15% complete mark, and seeing 173.5 pop up on the scale it dawned on me that:

  1. I am actually doing this thing for real.
  2. I am making progress in spite of all of the reasons I sat on my ass and managed to end up weighing nearly 200 pounds without a pregnancy to blame.
  3. It isn’t nearly as hard as I worked it out in my head to be.
  4. 90% of it is emotional and only about 10% of my lack of fitness is truly physical in spite of plenty of – well see #2.

See, I have a medical diagnosis that gives me a “get out of guilt free” card on the fitness front. I am not going to tell you what it is right now because I don’t want every wanna-be-doctor on the web giving me advice on what to do about it. Just suffice it to say that I have used this diagnosis to buffer any thoughts of better health. As in: “Oh, I could never sleep through the night, lose weight, run a mile, etc because I have ____.” It is true that I have to be careful with myself so that I don’t push my body into a relapse, but there is nothing to say that I can’t move my body as long as I observe those limits.

Everyone in my family of origin is overweight. I am actually the smallest of the bunch. Yesterday, I saw a packet of information about WLS on my parents’ kitchen table and had to catch my breath. Without starting a blog war on personal choice, let’s just say that WLS would be a risky option for my stepfather, and the idea really caused me to pause. I have been following Allan’s progress as he follows the post-surgical diet without having the surgery, and agree with him on one major point: WLS does not remove all of the reasons you eat too much food, it just makes it physically difficult to do so.

When I asked my mom about the packet, she said that they had gone to the seminar because my stepdad’s doctor suggested it. They have decided that it would be too risky for him and are teetering between giving up on fitness altogether and looking for another solution. Seeing an opening, I mentioned that I had made a commitment to move 200 times this year and have lost about 15 pounds since the beginning of June. She looked at me like I had announced that I had earned a free trip to Mars and said, “How’d you do that???”

And that is when I realized what a zealot feels like. I have the answer, but it is going to sound like a brush off. The obvious answer is, “I exercise 4-6 times a week, and watch what I eat.” But the real answer is, “I came to a point in my wallowing where I decided that I had a choice in the matter and decided to make that choice. I still struggle with self-esteem, and all of the other stuff that gets in the way of my living my authentic life, but I am not waiting until I have all of the answers before I start moving in the general direction of where I want to be. That includes my health.”

What was the epiphany *for me*? It was redefining “fitness” from looking like a swimsuit model, running marathons, and wearing a size 4 to improving my endurance, making a commitment to move, and not giving up when that first rush of “I am going to look like a swimsuit model” wore off. The frustrating thing about an epiphany is that those aha moments aren’t easy to share. Of course, some folks are better at it than others. They are the ones who write the books, make the videos, and get the contracts. But maybe my writing that it isn’t magic or voodoo or money or talent that ultimately gets the pounds off, and that even *I* can do it – with all of my excuses and neuroses – it will inspire someone to say, “Hey, maybe I can tackle a personal goal, too. I have nothing to lose.”

Soap Box of the Day: Wendy has been ranting for a couple of days about some negative responses to the new Dove “Real Beauty” Ads. She has done such a phenomenal job of flogging the geniuses who think a size 10 female body is somehow defective that I am officially stepping off of the soap box for today to give her some extra space up there. Rant on, Wendy! (And in case you are a deluded schmuck who believes that a size 10 is “chunky” you probably ought to quit reading my blog, ’cause that’s the size I will be at my goal weight. So there!)

 

Back On Track…

Mentally, that is. I am doing much better today with the whole eating out after class thing. I found a version of our favorite restaurant’s menu with the cal/fat/carb/points info included and printed it out. I was right that the chips and salsa have nearly 1000 calories, but since I shared them, it was really *only* half that. Just goes to show that when I get into a stew I completely disregard reality.

Now, I am aware and prepared. I will tuck my little menu into my school bag, and next week I will make an informed choice. If I end up ordering that double fudge chocolate binge cake, I will be fully aware of the potential impact on my goals.

My trip to the gym went pretty well. I did my 28th run to nowhere, and a trip around the leg machines. I have decided that I hate the ab machine at my gym so when I got home I pulled out the Ab Roller and did 5 minutes with Brenda. Ouch! It has been way too long since those muscles were used.

Soap Box of the Day: The ADAPT action for TennCare is still underway in the Tennessee Governor’s office. As of today, they have been there for a full month. For the record no one in my family receives TennCare, but plenty of my friends do. And, as I have mentioned before, the Gov’s plans for TennCare could set some really ugly precidents for all of us who rely on insurance programs to subsidize our healthcare needs. Beyond that, we have asserted as a nation that taking care of one another is important. It is gross negligence to turn off medical services to folks, and there has to be a better way to balance the budget.

Tuesdays Are Free Days…

I can’t work out every day. Well, I can. But I won’t. Tuesday is my day to visit my shrinky dink (You didn’t think I got this insightful all on my own, did ya??) and go to my college class (more on that later). I get all crabby and overwhelmed at the thought of adding even one tiny thing to Tuesdays. Call me names, if you like, but I am taking Tuesdays off from the whole workout thing.

Why am I going on and on about this? Well, because after that college class (see, I told you it would come back up) we go out and get a bite to eat. Well, a bite may be a little bit of an underestimation. It is closer to a week’s worth of bites. I do really well in my quest to eat appropriate amounts of food all week, and then after class on Tuesdays I eat my weight in chips and salsa and follow it with a mega-entree chaser. It is like social drinking – only it’s eating – and even though I am *not* hungry and it is 9 o’clock at night, I keep putting food into my mouth until I want to puke from feelings of stuffation!

Now, if I spent the rest of the evening thinking thoughts like, “Wow! Dinner was yummy! I am so glad I ate it, ” it wouldn’t be a problem. But I am thinking, “Damn it! I feel like I am going to burst! And I bet those chips had 1000 calories in them, and let’s not even discuss the “nutritional value” of what I ate. It will take me two weeks to undo that meal…”

Stop it. Enough, already.

So, I recognize that I am eating food for a reason other than nourishment. Luckily it is in a very specific situation in which I have some control. It is time that I rethink how I approach after class eating. My action steps are:

  1. I will go to the restaurant’s website and see what options are on the menu that make better sense.
  2. I will pick out two or three options to keep in mind for future weeks’ outings.
  3. I will eat only when I am actually hungry, and not just because there is a pile of food sitting in front of me.
  4. I will remember that there is nothing wrong with ordering a dish of broccoli. I happen to really like broccoli.

Oh, I did see a 174.5 on ye ole scale this morning. As you are already aware, I did not work out today, but I did complete a 50 minute run to nowhere on the elliptical trainer yesterday. So, workout 27/200 is in the bag. All-in-all things are actually going very well in the fitness department.

Soap Box of the Day: I was hanging out at Brenna’s site this evening and she turned me on to a little study done on W*lmart’s impact on all of us. I knew I hated shopping there: I literally get lost and can’t find my way back out, and have sworn for years that they use mind control to prevent me leaving before I spend $300 on plastic crap. But this seals it. They officially suck*, and I can say that without fear of retaliation because there is a study to prove it. See, I am in college, (I warned you that you would hear more about this!) and in college you learn all about the importance of having a study to prove things before they can be asserted as fact.

*Suck is a technical term. For those unfamiliar with the jargon, please see www.dictionary.com.

Lost a Week to Reading…

Ladder of Years by Anne TylerOkay, so maybe I should just plan on blogging once a week and stop feigning shock when a week goes by without an update. I have been wandering around with my nose in books all week. Among my completed works this week are Anne Tyler’s Ladder of Years and the latest Harry Potter. Loved Ladder, but no one needs to worry that I am going to pull a Delia Grinstead and run away for 16 months. Potter left me feeling depressed. That may be because I read it in less than 24 hours and need sleep, though. I won’t say anything more and ruin it for y’all.

On the fitness front: I managed to make it to workout 25/200 today. Weight is bouncing between 176 and 178 which leads me to speculate a little on my goal weight. Officially it is 149. That puts me in the middle of the healthy BMI range for my height (5′ 9″ish). I am planning to fine tune it as I get closer, and am not particularly attached to this number. However, I can’t help but wonder whether my goal weight is my “upper limit” goal (the highest number I see regardless of TOM or day or amount of clothing, etc) or just a number I would be happy to see from time to time as my weight bounces around the general area. I don’t have an answer. Just something I am thinking about.

Soap Box of the Day: One of my areas of interest is personality. Various tests of personality have been developed, such as the Myers-Briggs type sorter. (I am an ENFP, in case you were wondering.) I recently came across Dr Dana Spears’ work. She has a type sorter of her own which looks at cognitive styles and has an interesting set of theories. I have a whole rant about how misunderstood I am all ready to type out – but I will spare you. Instead, spend the time filling out the Dreamer Checklist and let me know what you discover. It’s okay. I’ll wait.

I am a dreamer, by the way. But you knew that.

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