Learning to do
You didn't
really expect me to wake up this morning and run, did you? Mm-kay, good, because I didn't. I don't feel bad about that. These goals were written in a sugar induced haze...and I know better than to think I will get up Monday morning and make up for the weekend's transgressions. That is just not how it works in my house. Monday morning I am lucky to get up at all, even with a good weekend behind me. I really overslept this weekend and didn't even hear the alarm go off, if that is an excuse. I then had a stress dream that I was two hours late for a big appointment I had today with an intimidating prof. Turns out, he is as nice as can be. And, news flash, I am not a complete idiot and waste of space, like I had convinced myself of all weekend. Jeez, when did my self-esteem hit rock bottom.
Lots of work ahead today. Need to write 10 pages tonight. This can, and will, be done. Then it is five pages tomorrow morning, 5 after class. That leaves the next day for proof reading. This will be the worst paper ever written, but that is ok.
Regarding an attitude check,
Denise wrote about how losing weight isn't nearly as important as feeling good about herself. I couldn't agree more. I know this is something I have to work on--the two are just so bound up together for me it is hard for me to separate them. Such that, when I feel bad about myself, I eat, and when I eat, I feel bad about myself. Which then only prompts the cycle to continue. See how good that works out? There is a reason I'm in graduate school, folks. Got me some learning to do.
the omnipresent goals
This is a test. This is only a test. In the event of an emergency....
Audible Gasp!
Three in one day.
Jeez. My falling off the wagon is more like a slow motion, bloody train wreck. I’m actually looking forward to a week of some clean eating.
Goals for week:
1) Exercise
• Run long Monday; yoga at night
• Run short, lift heavy Tuesday
• Run long, pilates Wednesday
• Run short, lift heavy Thursday
• Walk and yoga Friday
• Run; lift light; yoga Saturday
• Run; pilates Sunday
2) Eating
• Usual bfasts, lunches, dinner. No almond butter Monday or Tuesday
• Journal!
3) School
• Finish two papers!
• Read!
• Damn it!
4) rest of life
• hah! Hah, hah, hah. Who said feminist don’t have a sense of humor?
Carry on, folks.
Lots to be proud of
Torture Chicks Gone Wild
Please check out this link. It's to Maureen Dowd's op-ed in the Times. My reaction is so varied. I'm not sure what warrents greater anger. The lack of respect for Islamic values? The objectification of women? The US army? So many enemies, so little time...
Frustration
Sunday morning. Snow on the ground. Means I don't think I will run today till later, if at all. Too bad, because I really, really wanted to (a lie! A total lie! I don't want to run. I'm so not motivated. I ran yesterday even though I didn't want to. And I never "got in the groove." It was just the crappiest of crappy runs.) So maybe I'll run Monday instead.
My usual schedule is this:
Monday: walk in morning; yoga in evening (I practice Ashtanga yoga on my own after practicing in a studio for 2 years)
Tuesday: run 5 miles; lift 3 short and heavy sets
Wednesday: run 7-10 miles; pilates; yoga in afternoon, before class
Thursday: run 4-5 miles, usually an internal run; lift 3 short and heavy sets
Friday: walk in morning; yoga in evening
Saturday: run 8 miles; lift 2 long and light sets
Sunday: run 8-10 miles; pilates
This week, not so much. Actually, I've been on program till now. So maybe I will walk today (to Trader Joes, mind you, to get choc covered pretzels and cereal!) for about an hour to make up for the walk that will be missed tomorrow. This sounds good.
I am getting frustrated with myself. I stopped losing weight in the beginning of December! So I've been plateauing for about 2 months. I wish I could say not losing is the result of a botched body chemistry or something, but it's not. It's the result of me eating too much. I know it. But I choose to do it anyway. The thing is, I think I look pretty good. And I feel, usually, great. But I don't like weeks like these, that end with a sluggish, puffy Liz forcing herself to do a crappy run. I like feeling alive and awake like I do when really on top of my plan. True, this week was very stressful for me, with a huge paper looming. But next week will be the same way. The question is, how will I handle it? Eating and stressing and staying up all night don't help, at all. They hurt. What helps is having a sharp mind and a de-stressed body that can sit here and churn out the pages. I know that. So why don't I DO that? Getting into graduate school and losing this weight has been a dream. So why am I throwing it away?
One must have chaos...
Nietzsche. It's a love/hate thing. Like pretty much everything in my life, these days. Hey there, big wide world of blogs, I'm throwing in my two cents. I'm just that bored and reached rock bottom in my procrastination efforts. Procrastinating what, you ask? I'm in a PhD program in philosophy (hence Nietzsche). I'm learning all that dead white European sexist racist classist theory. When I'm a radical feminist poor dyke. It's a good time, when I have my sense of humor. It's ridiculously depressing when I don't.
I started this blog to document my journey in losing 15 pounds. Yep, not only am I adding to the blog-es-sphere, I am adding yet another weight-loss blog to the mix. I have found reading other people's blogs incredibly helpful. I love knowing that I am not alone as I skip a workout in favor of a mimosa brunch. I love knowing that I am not alone in my wonder when things go well and the clothes get looser. I have lost about 30lbs since October through really, really old fashioned diet and exercise.
I haven't always been overweight. I'm relatively young--27--and was thin till about 3 years ago. Then something happened. I still don't really understand why I started eating. I was stressed. I was unhappy. I was lost. But I am and was always those things. So why then? I think I was tired of watching other people around me eat all this really good looking food while I denied myself. There was some disordered thinking involved here. I remember combing the aisles of the supermarket looking at everything I wouldn't let myself buy. Till one day, I did. And the weight poured on like so many flies to shit. I'm more realistic now. I know I won't have that body again. And, really, I don't want that body again. I don't want to walk those aisles with wolf eyes. But I want to find a medium, a place where I treat my body well.
And this place, where I am now, is not that place, I can assure you. I've just finished a binge. Not a binge like the ones from the good old days, but a binge nonetheless. And the scary thing? The thing that I don't want to write? The thing that I hate admitting? I love it. I love the way it feels. I love the way eating chocolate feels. The way it melts in my mouth. The way sourdough bread has this perfect crunch crust yet is soft like cake on the inside. And cake? Three words: cream cheese frosting. Yes, my friends. Good enough to lick the plate. The problem? I don't like what this does to my body. The solution? Own the problem and accept the results or change. Today, I own. We will see what tomorrow brings.
Long story short: this blog's about praying to, as yvonne says, the scale god; with philosophy; politics; and life thrown in. Because the numbers reflect so much more than cream cheese frosting. And, being a good feminist theorist, I know that cream cheese frosting means so much more than just numbers.
