I've been working out. I'm not really seeing the results I want, but hell…. I gotta do it. Monday and Friday mornings I work with a trainer. She's good. She makes me feel sore for the next 24 hours. We do a lot of work on my arms, butt and trunk/abs. It's like the total chick-needs workout. We do some cardio, like the treadmill or the bike or jumping on that half ball thing.
Wednesday I'm with a guy I don't know to well, but he seems like he knows what he's doing. It's better when the trainer knows you better. I think my morning trainer has a better feel for my capabilities and needs. Thursday, I work with the owner of the gym. He's good. You can just tell. He pushes me. Maybe it's a little too much because my body gives up. But is that what he's supposed to do? I really have no clue.
After 5 weeks, I'm only down 7 pounds. That just sucks. Realistically, I'd like to get ride of another 40. It's hard. I've dedicated so much already and I'm just not seeing what I'd like to see. And what's worst of all is that this free membership to the gym is running out. I'm almost done. What do I do after that? How do I keep moving?
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
By The Numbers
When AIM first came out and chatting it up with strange guys didn't get much more personal than a/s/l, I was up till the wee hours of the morning talking about myself. I remember one time transposing the numbers 124 to read 142 lbs and thinking "I will KILL myself if I am ever 142 lbs!" Now, I'd kill to BE 142 lbs.
Perspective is a strange beast. Every time I've stepped on the scale since I was 14, I've declared that this is the heaviest I would ever be. You know what? I'm a big fat(ter) liar!
But, even a few months ago, seeing the scale read 199, I was happy to at least know it wasn't yet at 200. Until I hit 205.
I guess I have delusions of myself. I mean, I think I'm gross in an internal world. But I don't see myself and huge. I wear a size 14 and that pisses me off. But then I think, well, it's not a 24. But, I'm over 200 lbs. Men shouldn't even weigh that much. I feel gross. Disgusted with myself.
I've been seeing a trainer four days a week for the last three weeks. I am part of a weight loss competition for some radio station. I have a team of three other people. We are competing against two or three other gym teams. And in two weeks, we have our final weigh-in. As of last week, the one guy on our team has dropped 20 pounds. His 128 lb fiance is down to 120. And the other girl is steadily trucking along. I, on the other hand, have only lost 2 pounds. Figure that out.
I mean, fine. I had beer and bbq over Memorial Day. I downed pitchers singing karaoke. I made and ate chocolate chip cookies, and might have had stuffed French toast one morning. BUT. The bottom line is that I have been going to the gym four times a week. I have been sweating and lifting and doing squats! And planks! And strange combinations that I am not coordinated enough to do using machines that scare me. But I'm doing it and doing it well. And aside from the four days that I didn't count my calories, I've been steadily eating a protein-rich, low fat, low carb 1300 calorie diet.
So, they tell me I need to do more cardio. Ugh, but when?? And right, that's a stupid question. I could do it before my morning sessions or after my evening sessions at the gym. Or, I could do it on my three off-days. But, God, I don't wanna!
I'm trying more with the food. In general I eat well. But when I'm off, I'm off. So, I need to be more mindful. I really thought, after years of random dieting, that the only way I'd lose would be to exercise regularly. (PS, I can't even spell exercise correctly without spellcheck!) I'm doomed!
Perspective is a strange beast. Every time I've stepped on the scale since I was 14, I've declared that this is the heaviest I would ever be. You know what? I'm a big fat(ter) liar!
But, even a few months ago, seeing the scale read 199, I was happy to at least know it wasn't yet at 200. Until I hit 205.
I guess I have delusions of myself. I mean, I think I'm gross in an internal world. But I don't see myself and huge. I wear a size 14 and that pisses me off. But then I think, well, it's not a 24. But, I'm over 200 lbs. Men shouldn't even weigh that much. I feel gross. Disgusted with myself.
I've been seeing a trainer four days a week for the last three weeks. I am part of a weight loss competition for some radio station. I have a team of three other people. We are competing against two or three other gym teams. And in two weeks, we have our final weigh-in. As of last week, the one guy on our team has dropped 20 pounds. His 128 lb fiance is down to 120. And the other girl is steadily trucking along. I, on the other hand, have only lost 2 pounds. Figure that out.
I mean, fine. I had beer and bbq over Memorial Day. I downed pitchers singing karaoke. I made and ate chocolate chip cookies, and might have had stuffed French toast one morning. BUT. The bottom line is that I have been going to the gym four times a week. I have been sweating and lifting and doing squats! And planks! And strange combinations that I am not coordinated enough to do using machines that scare me. But I'm doing it and doing it well. And aside from the four days that I didn't count my calories, I've been steadily eating a protein-rich, low fat, low carb 1300 calorie diet.
So, they tell me I need to do more cardio. Ugh, but when?? And right, that's a stupid question. I could do it before my morning sessions or after my evening sessions at the gym. Or, I could do it on my three off-days. But, God, I don't wanna!
I'm trying more with the food. In general I eat well. But when I'm off, I'm off. So, I need to be more mindful. I really thought, after years of random dieting, that the only way I'd lose would be to exercise regularly. (PS, I can't even spell exercise correctly without spellcheck!) I'm doomed!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Stress Related Obesity
I've only lost weight twice in my life. Once, when I was fourteen and stopped eating. And once when my ex and I broke up and I was too distraught to eat for three weeks.
Prior to The Break-up of '08 I never understood those women who couldn't eat when they were upset. Nothing soothes me better when I'm feeling blue than bottle of wine and some fresh chocolate chip cookies. Or mac and cheese. Or just cheese. But I guess I never had that crushing sadness before The Break-up.
Of course, it was absolutely the right move to end the relationship, but I couldn't believe that at the time. After three weeks of mourning, I pulled myself out of bed, put on some newly-loose pants and stepped on the scale. I'd dropped 11 lbs in three weeks. Sweet! I made sure everyone knew that, too. I was proud. Proud at 175 lbs.
By the following year I put on 5 pounds. That was about my average - 5 lbs a year. It doesn't seem like a lot, and really, one wouldn't ever notice it. But, when you look back 10 years - holy crap, that's 50 lbs!
Then I started nursing school. That was two years of extreme stress, vending machine dinners, late night study snacking and wine. In my two years of school, I gained 19 pounds. And I was officially a cow. And taking off that weight ain't easy. I don't even know where to begin.
Prior to The Break-up of '08 I never understood those women who couldn't eat when they were upset. Nothing soothes me better when I'm feeling blue than bottle of wine and some fresh chocolate chip cookies. Or mac and cheese. Or just cheese. But I guess I never had that crushing sadness before The Break-up.
Of course, it was absolutely the right move to end the relationship, but I couldn't believe that at the time. After three weeks of mourning, I pulled myself out of bed, put on some newly-loose pants and stepped on the scale. I'd dropped 11 lbs in three weeks. Sweet! I made sure everyone knew that, too. I was proud. Proud at 175 lbs.
By the following year I put on 5 pounds. That was about my average - 5 lbs a year. It doesn't seem like a lot, and really, one wouldn't ever notice it. But, when you look back 10 years - holy crap, that's 50 lbs!
Then I started nursing school. That was two years of extreme stress, vending machine dinners, late night study snacking and wine. In my two years of school, I gained 19 pounds. And I was officially a cow. And taking off that weight ain't easy. I don't even know where to begin.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
It's Never Really Gone - Like Herpes
In college, one of my new best friends had been recently hospitalized for complications related to her anorexia. Instantly I was jealous of her for having the will power to not eat. (I know, it was insane). My dabble in anorexia was short-lived, and only took me to a slightly underweight level. And then I discovered my love of food and vodka.
But this new friend, she was so GOOD at it. I resented her for it. I fancied myself "recovered" but that was a sham. I think my constant focusing on what she ate actually helped her in the long run. Your average Anorexic doesn't typically want others to notice her eating habits. She wants you to think she eats like a bird naturally. She wants you to see that she didn't clear her plate, but she doesn't want you to observe her scraping up the last bits of blue cheese dressing and licking it clean. I think the "I know what you're doing" eyes I gave her did help her after all.
She's very strong and healthy now. And we're still great friends. I don't think she ever knew that I was jealous of her eating disorder though. It probably wouldn't have helped her back then.
Sometimes now, I wish I had the "will power" to avoid food. Instead, I usually have a snack.
But this new friend, she was so GOOD at it. I resented her for it. I fancied myself "recovered" but that was a sham. I think my constant focusing on what she ate actually helped her in the long run. Your average Anorexic doesn't typically want others to notice her eating habits. She wants you to think she eats like a bird naturally. She wants you to see that she didn't clear her plate, but she doesn't want you to observe her scraping up the last bits of blue cheese dressing and licking it clean. I think the "I know what you're doing" eyes I gave her did help her after all.
She's very strong and healthy now. And we're still great friends. I don't think she ever knew that I was jealous of her eating disorder though. It probably wouldn't have helped her back then.
Sometimes now, I wish I had the "will power" to avoid food. Instead, I usually have a snack.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Remember How I Finished Nursing School?
That was over a month ago. Remember how I was supposed to spend all my free time studying for the NCLEX? Remember how I was gonna ACE it? Yeah, well, I'm looking at the test just a few weeks away... and I haven't even started preparing. I'm an idiot.
Time to do some questions. God!!
Time to do some questions. God!!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Dr. Cee's Theory On The Booze And The LBS
I don't know what an average college girl drinks, but my friends and I weren't messing around. We blacked out, passed out, fell down, and one of us chipped her tooth on the floor of the bar. We were in it to win it. I easily consumed 1500 calories in a night out drinking. Jack and Cokes and Jaager shots added up. Not to mention the 3am nacho fiesta we'd prepare when we got home. But, here's the thing: after I awoken from my spinning fog, i'd spend the next 24 hours vomiting. Alcohol bulimia - binge drinking and projectile purging. It sounds crazy, but I'm pretty sure that's why I didn't gain any weight in college. This is not a diet I recommend for anyone's stomach, blood-brain barrier, optic blood vessels, throat or tooth enamel. Or dignity.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Dabbling In Anorexia
As I started growing taller, I was still fat. In eighth grade I made some new friends. And I decided I wanted to date boys. Remembering the fond words of a family member "you're getting FAT" on Christmas Eve, I knew the time to hesitate was through. Clearly, the only thing I could do was stop eating. So, for about a year I ate bagels. Well, one bagel. One cinnamon raisin bagel per day, to be specific. I started eating it when I began to feel dizzy in the morning at school… and nibbled on it, pulling the skin layer off first, then the insides. That would last me throughout the school day. If I was hungry, I'd swallow the piece of gum I'd been chewing all day. That gave my stomach something to work at as it tried desperately to pull nutrients from my ten calorie stick. I'd come home and have a lovely nutritious iceberg lettuce and tomato salad with fat free Hidden Valley Italian dressing. I dropped 40 lbs that year. My doctor applauded my hard work. Dumb ass couldn't spot an eating disorder staring him in the eyes.
Word to the wise... when a 14 year old girl drops 40lbs in a year, ask her more than "are you eating?"
But, screw it, I landed a boyfriend! And I bought a bikini. Va-va-voom. The Goodyear Blimp was now dating boys, breaking up with them and picking up new ones, turning down guys she'd been in love with in middle school…. all that in a lime green mini skirt - size 5, bitches!
Then I discovered alcohol. Surely binge drinking didn't have anything to do with the weight gain - actually I have a theory on that.
Word to the wise... when a 14 year old girl drops 40lbs in a year, ask her more than "are you eating?"
But, screw it, I landed a boyfriend! And I bought a bikini. Va-va-voom. The Goodyear Blimp was now dating boys, breaking up with them and picking up new ones, turning down guys she'd been in love with in middle school…. all that in a lime green mini skirt - size 5, bitches!
Then I discovered alcohol. Surely binge drinking didn't have anything to do with the weight gain - actually I have a theory on that.
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