Sunday, August 14, 2005

hypocrite

"Hypocrite," I thought, as I looked at my reflection in the gym mirror. I put my time in this morning. But my heart wasn't in it. I'm still not making good food choices. And I'm down about that, regardless of my love for all these little folks. As I huffed and puffed through an Arc Trainer workout, I befuddled even myself. Why do I put myself through the sometimes horrible experience of working out only to eat away any results?

Or maybe this is the perfectionist in me. The very same one who convinces me that if I can't do it right, I shouldn't even try. Duh. I know that I will be gaining much more weight if I stop exercising. But sometimes, after weeks of being so far off plan that I fell like a sham by posting on a supposed diet and fitness site, I have to question the usefulness of my gym time.

It's time for my mouth to catch up with my legs. I can walk the walk, run the run, and lift the weight. But I struggle with closing my mouth on something other than junk food.

Friday, August 12, 2005

slow

Sweat. Slowly swirling through small undetectable rivets in my skin. Now. At 9:30 at night. Sweat. Cascading off my back. Running down my chest. Beading on my arms. Tomorrow morning. While running. ("Shuffling" probably more accurately describes my movement in weather this gross.) Sweat has become a good friend. The kind of friend who is always welcome and missed when she isn't around. I crave a good sweat like I used to crave sugar.

I went to Spinning this morning. I am a believer! This class is a great workout. I was always skeptical of group classes. I thought that they couldn't possibly be as useful as working out independently because they are too "girly"--I was picturing women in leotards jumping around in bare feet. But Spinning feels like a serious workout. More athletic that "aerobic."

And I lifted yesterday.

And I did NOT consume refined sugar today.

In short, I rock.

To be clear, my kids think that I rock too. Even if the older kids don't want to admit it, I know they do. I can tell by the increased level of participation--we went from nobody raising their hands to 75% of kids raising their hands to answer questions. Teaching is an amazing job. So amazing, that I'm kind of scared of just how much I love it. I have to hold myself back from squeezing them all on their way out the door.

And it's hard to feel down about my off-track-ed-ness when there is that kind of love in my life.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

struggle

Hindsight. I thought after I wrote my previous post that I had made some big Breakthrough. Re-reading it, I see that I am mainly just lying to myself. I haven't lost and maintained 30lbs for 1 year. I've lost and maintained 25lbs for about 8 months. At my lowest, I had lost 30lbs. But, as evident in my past n+1 posts, I am no longer at my lowest weight. Moreover, the struggle for me is NOT to figure out some deep dark secret. The struggle is to find other ways to handle stress and depression. It is all to easy to do so with food, for me. I put too much emotion into this fitness thing: a workout isn't good unless I transcend time and space; adhering to healthy food choices doesn't count unless I unlock the secret of my soul. Say what? This is about taking better care of myself, no matter the emotional or spiritual spirals in which I find myself.

****************

I ran this morning. It was a beautiful sunny morning and I enjoyed the fresh air. I felt strong and athletic. It wasn't my best time ever for that loop. Far from it, actually. But it was fun. Tomorrow I will head to my local gym and lift. My gym bag is already packed.

Monday, August 08, 2005

there

I'm stuck. I'm stuck. I'm stuck.

I'm stuck in so many ways that I don't know what to write about here. So instead I complain about endlessly eating. Which is something that annoys me and that I want to change. But I know all too well from personal experience that whining about overeating will not get me anywhere. I have to get to the heart of it. I have to expose that bloody smelly secret burned deep in the trash can. Underneath the wrappers and the garbage there lies a truth so deep that I might forever spiral if I ever fall in.

So instead I eat. To keep myself afloat.

I'm floating and stuck. I'm not moving forward. I'm not moving backwards. I'm just. Here.

But here is so different from there. There, that place I was in for last year's "here." That place was hard and scary and I'm so glad I found my way out. I have to give myself credit for that. September will mark my official trying to lose weight anniversary (though I really didn't start losing weight till October, I started trying to in September). And I will have lost and kept off 30lbs, for a year, in a month. So it was August that I went down so deep that my underwear didn't fit anymore. I lost myself somewhere amid the moving boxes and candy wrappers. Now, I find myself once more in the middle of moving boxes and candy wrappers. But this time I chase the candy with a salad and two hours at the gym.

I should be happy with 30lbs. But I have at least 20 more to lose. Why am I fucking around with these last 20 pounds? I've been stuck here since Christmas, for pity's sake. So what the fuck, Liz? What are you doing? Why aren't you doing what you know you should be doing?

I have made changes. I am not destined to always repeat the mistakes of my past. This, too, shall pass. This, too, shall pass.

What will help it pass with ease: plenty of exercise. Veggies and whole grains. Some chocolate. And lots of patience.

Doesn't hurt to back up that patience with amazing, inspiring friends who love an equally amazing portabella mushroom sandwich on a sourdough roll. Local beer. And a smoke. Yep, in addition to eating myself sick, I'm smoking.

***************

I went to spinning class this morning. Great workout with a very knowledgeable instructor. I also lifted before class started. I did a long-ish run yesterday and did better than I expected. Food has been less than fantastic. But that's ok.

I miss the fancy gym that I can't afford but joined for a week for free anyway. All the cardio equipment had personal TVs and there was shampoo in the showers and lots of light and shiny expensive newness. But now I go to a gym that I love. On paper. It's local, not a chain. It is in a restored carriage house. It's motto is "Movement is health. Take the first step." But the equipment is old. And it's dark. And you have to sign up for cardio machines. For 20 mins. Which is not enough, even according to the Surgeon General. But I think it's good for me to workout in community. To shake things up. Especially when facing "stuck" as I am.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

And

And sometimes a workout is just a workout. Sometimes it doesn't change my life. Sometimes it doesn't feel amazing, renewing, and transformative. Sometimes it's just super hard work and I hate every minute of it. Sometimes I beg quietly to myself to end it, now. Sometimes, like this morning. But I did it anyway. Even though I hated it. Even though I couldn't listen to music because the new gym isn't as fancy and doesn't have little CD players for each machine thereby forcing me to use my own CD player. And, of course, I can't use a portable CD player on the treadmill because it skips. Even though I was beside a lady who was running much faster than she could handle and was therefore holding onto the 'mill railings and pounding, no really slapping, her feet hard against the belt. Even though I had a headache and felt tired and sluggish because of the heat. Even though, I did it anyway.

The answer, I decided, was to come home and stuff myself. And discover that I didn't close my H2O container fully. Oh, yeah, and that my cell phone was sitting belly up in said pool of water. So now I have to get a new phone. Just when I decided that the purchase of an IPOD was possible and worth it, if it would improve my gym experiences.

Yeah, and I should not have complained about the temperature yesterday. It's still 90 here. And it's 11 at night. Will somebody please turn on the AC? That's right, I don't have any. Fantastic.

Sometimes a pissy mood is just a pissy mood.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

now

I increased weights at the gym this morning and I feel like a rock star. The kind of rock star that can bang out 6 biceps curls with 25lb dumbbells, backed by 2 sets of 8 with 20lbs. I feel incredible. Like I am possibly the strongest right now, at this very moment, that I have ever been.

I am also incredibly hungry. All the time. But I am so out of synch with normal "hunger" that I don't if I'm emotionally hungry or physically hungry. To be safe, I'm eating till I'm not hungry anymore. To be safe. What I probably should do is keep one of those food journals in which I write the way that I feel before I eat. But doesn't that go against the whole "that's that" attitude of this weekend? I have avoided refined sugar for two days. Not intentionally, but because I am trying to eat what sounds good. And today that happened to be a homemade wrap sandwich on homemade whole wheat chappatis, with my special hummus, the world's most amazing tomatoes, cukes, arugala, and fresh beets. And then another one.

I'm doing what I can, when I can. I just wish that my jeans would go along with it for a while.

I tried the "Arc-Trainer" at the gym this morning. Odd, very odd. No impact. What I really want is to swim. Doesn't that sound amazing? The cool water gliding past your tired muscles, ears surrounded by the muffled quiet of the water, and eyes focused on the black line beneath you? Can you tell that I don't have air-conditioning?

Tomorrow will find me hitting the 'mill. It's not supposed to get below 75 tonight. We'll see if sleep happens.