Saturday, May 30, 2009

Today's weighin -- 5/31/2009 -- End of 68 weeks

Today's weight: 155.2 pounds

Lost since last official weighin on 4/11/2009: -1.4 pounds (I know, go ahead and laugh. I did.)

Total lost: 84.0 pounds

This is really kind of pathetic. If you look at my stats, you'll see that I've only lost 10 pounds in the last EIGHT months. I lost 73 pounds in the first seven months. What the hell have I been doing lately? Maintenance?

The positive:
1.) I haven't gained anything, which is really unusual for me. My M.O. is to drop a large amount of weight quickly, then turn around and gain it all back just as quickly.

2.) I've lost 84 pounds.

3.) My workouts are consistent, six days a week, 40 minutes cardio/40 minutes strength, plus walks and bike riding a few times a week. I'm stronger and more physically fit than at any other time in my life. I have more energy than I know what to do with. Pretty amazing considering I'm 53.

The negative:

1.) A 10-pound loss in eight months when I was aiming for a 30-pound loss in about four months.

2.) It makes me a tiny bit sad that I'm not at goal by now.

3.) Vacation July 19, birthday August 7, company picnic August 8, anniversary August 19. I really wanted to be at goal for all of these events. It's not going to happen.

I know what to do, it's what I did the first six months. Follow the program.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The hunger

Not exercising and sitting around on my butt makes me freaking hungry!

I'm at an insane level of hunger today. I know it's because I'm bored, and I haven't worked out for five days. That's a record for me in the last fifteen months. For someone that works out six or seven days a week, this is really a tiny bit of hell.

Unfortunately, I found a cure for the nauseousness from the antibiotics. It's simple. I should have read labels on the medicine bottles at the beginning. The cure: food. Why couldn't it be not eating food?

The sun is shining, and I can't take another re-run of Roseanne on the Oxygen channel. Stupid, boring daytime TV. I'm going to wrap my catheter with an ace bandage and hit the trail on my bike.

I weighed this morning. Not good. 160.8 A number that makes bells go off in my head. I promised myself I'd never go above 160 again. NEVER. So I have to cut the eating and get moving again.

My plan after the bike ride, go back to the ER for another dose of IV antibiotics, then see a movie. I'm going to see The Haunting in Connecticut. My husband will see almost any movie with me, including chick flicks, but he puts his foot down when it comes to cheesy, paranormal stuff, which I love. This one is based on a "true" story.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Home from the ER or it sucks to be me

My good arm, that has an IV connector in it for the next three days.

My bad arm in a splint so I don't move it.

The cool mummy cotton stuff.
It would make a great Halloween costume
by wrapping your entire body in this stuff.

The dotted line was the infection yesterday, the solid line is today
This morning I spent three hours at the clinic waiting to see a doctor for my follow-up visit. No appointments were available, they had to "squeeze" me in. I was on my way to work.

The doctor looked at my arm and told me to immediately go to the emergency room.

I spent three hours in ER.

They took two x-rays to look for a tooth chip or a pocket of cat saliva. No foreign objects in my arm.

They hooked me up to an antibiotic IV drip, with two more scheduled Wednesday and Thursday. It wasn't too bad. I was wrapped up in warmed blankets and watched I Love Lucy reruns and Jerry Springer.

A temporary IV connector was inserted into my good arm so they can use it the next two days.

A splint was put on my arm so I don't move it too much.

I was advised no exercise for next two days which will make a full week of no exercise for me.

It sucks to be me these days.

Walter is fine. He's still alive (lucky cat), happy and healthy. I still feed him and pet him, except I'm not into cuddling and won't let him lay on the bed next to me. I'm not ready for that kind of closeness.

Reality check---I'm still fat

I was cleaning out my closet this weekend when I found a box of clothes in the very back, covered up by shoe boxes. I thought I'd found all my old clothes from my skinny days. Well, turns out I hadn't found the clothes from my "true" skinny days, when I weighed 124 about 10 years ago. That was the last time I lost over 100 pounds. I'm 5' 6 1/2" so I really was thin.

I pulled out a black evening dress that I remembered wearing to my company's Christmas ball, back when they celebrated "Christmas" and not the "Holiday". It's a long black dress, with a square neck, inch-wide straps, and a very low-cut back. It's form fitting, and was body hugging even when I weighed 124. It has a slit up to about six inches above the knee on one side. It's a size 6. I remember not eating all day on the day of the party so my tummy would be totally flat.

I currently wear a size 10, and considering vanity sizing, it's probably really a size 12 from ten years ago. I thought well, maybe the dress will fit anyway. I work out a lot, I have a lot more muscle now than I did 10 years ago. I was skinny, but all I did was aerobics (four times a week).

What was I thinking?! Talk about a wake up call. I couldn't get it over my hips so I put it on over my head, but I couldn't slide it down past my hips. I tried to at least zip it up the back and the zipper was at least two inches from coming together. That made me feel really fat.

That's what 30 pounds does to a person. The reality is that I am still fat. I don't really want to weigh 124 again. I have my driver's license from that year. The one time in my entire life I told the truth on my license, that I weighed 124 and I really did. The picture is horrible. My face is sunken and honestly, I look too skinny. Yet I remember wearing that size 6 dress and feeling gorgeous.

I found my size 6 Levi button down jeans. Since I'm such a glutton for punishment I tried them on too. That was another eye-opener. I could barely get them mid-thigh. They're not in style anymore anyway, but still, I'd love to be able to fit into them again.

The box of my real skinny clothes has made me realize I really have to lose at least another 20 pounds or I'm not going to be happy with my body. I've been bemoaning this fact for months. I honestly do not know what is stopping me. Is it because I remember how happy I was as a size 6 or even an 8 and I think I'll feel the same way again? Yet I know that's just a fantasy. A fantasy I don't want shattered.

Why is this so darn hard? I lost 85 pounds faster and easier than I can lose these last 20 pounds. I keep talking about it but not doing it. I don't have the answer, but I'm not giving up. I had a goal to end the month the same weight as I started, 156.4, which I think I'll do. But what kind of goal is that, to just stay the same?

My June goal is to lose 6.4 pounds and hit 150. This means cutting back on the eating. Truly eating just 19 Points a day, with maybe a few extra from the APs. Did I mention I hate being hungry? But I also hate being fat. I guess I can't decide which I hate the most.

It's not flesh-eating disease

Having lived the first forty years of my life without the Internet, there's hardly a day that goes by where I'm not amazed by the vast amount of information at my fingertips.

When I get sick, I jump on Google and find pages and pages of information on my symptoms or my illness (if I know what I have). This is good and bad. Sometimes it's comforting if it's nothing serious, sometimes is scares the hell out of me, like with MSRA.

When I came home from the doctor yesterday and before I even Googled MSRA, my husband was freaking out. He told me this was serious business. He proceeded to tell me about the guy that used a public telephone, got MSRA on his face that turned into flesh-eating disease and lost half his face. Thanks honey, nothing like comforting your wife.

Google confirmed his story, although it did say it was really rare for this to happen with MSRA and usually only happened to people with a weakened immune system. I think of myself as strong and healthy, so this just couldn't happen to me. Of course, there's always that little thought, what if?

I'm happy to say it looks like the second antibiotic, Bactrim, is doing it's job. My arm is still swollen and red, but the redness hasn't spread. Unfortunately it hasn't decreased either. It's basically the same as yesterday. I can't make a fist or use my right hand very much. I can't even write with it which is going to make work interesting today. At least my arm doesn't feel like it's burning off from the inside out.

I skipped the gym again this morning. This is day four. It's not something I'm happy about, but there's really nothing I can do about it. I rode my bike outside for 30 minutes yesterday, mainly just to get some fresh air.

I'm not taking the Vicodin anymore because it makes me feel kind of sick. Great for an appetite suppressant, but I hate feeling nauseous. Plus, I'm not in as much pain as I was over the weekend. It's bearable now as long as I don't bump it, then it's excruciating.

My eating has been totally good, but I forgot to weigh this morning. I was too busy checking out my right arm this morning, making sure I still had one.

Walter seems to be fine, and I'm not having him put to sleep. I just can't do it. He purrs all the time, constantly wraps himself around my ankles and seems content and happy. Although, there are moments I fear for my ankles, wondering if a sudden movement is going to scare him into another bout of crazy cat. For now, Walter is still with us.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Seriously? MRSA?

I just got home from the doctor. This is exactly what he said when he looked at my arm, shaking his head back and forth: "This is NOT good. This is really NOT good." Not exactly the words I want to hear a doctor say when they're examining me.

I told him he was scaring me, and asked him what he meant by "not good". He said the antibiotic shot and the antibiotic prescription they gave me yesterday should have really knocked out the infection. Instead, it's much worse than yesterday. He thinks it might be Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), a super bug. He prescribed another antibiotic that specifically targets MRSA.

He drew another ink line around the redness, the one today is about two inches outside the line from yesterday. I measured my forearms and the infected arm is 1 1/2 inches larger, that's how much it's swollen. The skin is bright red, very hot to the touch, very tight and it hurts like hell (even with the Vicodin).

I have to go back to the doctor tomorrow, and if my arm isn't better, he'll give me a third antibiotic. If that doesn't work, then I have to go to the hospital for IV antibiotics. That's the worse case scenario. Well, actually that's not the worse thing that can happen. They may have to open up my arm to drain it. I suppose the absolute worse thing is that I could die. Thanks to Google I know that's a possibility.

I asked the doctor about exercising and he said no lifting weights with my infected arm (which of course is the right arm and I'm right-handed). However, he said if I felt like it I could bike ride or do any cardio, and leg strength exercises. I don't really feel like it. My arm is super tender, extremely sore and sensitive, and it hurts. Instead, I think I'll go to bed and sleep. This hasn't been my best weekend.

Day 5 - my owie

The cat bite saga continues. I went to the clinic yesterday afternoon and the doctor said he's never seen an infection spread as quickly as mine. He took a pen and marked my arm where there was redness, indicating infection. Today the redness is about three inches outside the lines he drew yesterday.

They gave me a tetanus shot, an antibiotic shot in my butt (hurt like hell), and prescriptions for an antibiotic and Vicodin. Thank God for the Vicodin. I don't think I would have made it through the night without it.

I'm going back to the clinic in a couple hours. Yesterday the doctor made me promise to come back today if the redness was still there. The red, swollen area is about three times larger than it was yesterday and my injured forearm is swollen up about 1/3 bigger my good arm.

Walter's fate is still up in the air. He's totally healthy other than being blind and deaf so I have a little trouble putting him down just because he got scared and bit me. If I was blind and deaf I might start biting people too. I'm having a little trouble petting him without being afraid he's going to go nuts and attack me again.

Besides the fact I don't know what to do with this crazed cat we've had for 17 years, I also can't exercise. I'm going to try to do a bike ride today, but since I'm taking Vicodin I'm not really sure that's such a great idea. The good news is that I'm not one bit hungry.

Poor Walter. Poor me.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Cat scratch fever

Stupid out-of-his-ever-lovin'-mind cat
His name is Walter. He's 17 years old. He's blind and deaf. Normally, he's a sweet, docile little cat that sleeps about 23 hours a day. This morning he attacked me. I was holding him, cuddling him, he was purring when he latched onto my forearm and wouldn't let go. I was screaming every curse word I know as I tried to unlock his vise grip jaw from my arm.

When my husband came running in to see what was wrong, I was sobbing and blood was flowing freely from the three puncture wounds on my arm. Thank God we just had one of his incisors pulled a few months ago during his $375 dental cleaning or he might have actually taken a chunk out of my arm. I washed my wound, bandaged it, and took Ibuprofen.

It's now six hours later and my forearm looks like it has a Cadbury egg underneath the skin. The pain is a burning and achy kind of pain, and actually, kind of excruciating. It's traveling up my my arm and now the entire arm hurts.

I know a little about cat bites from a bite I got several years ago from a stray. It's one of the worse bites you can get. When you see the red lines going up your arm towards your heart, get thee to an emergency room pronto. As the ER doctor told me a few years ago you can die from a cat bite. So far no red lines but it hurts like hell. I probably should just go to the walk-in clinic before they close, otherwise I'll probably be in the ER tonight. Been this route before.

I think Walter had a moment of kitty dementia. I think Walter's days may be numbered. I'm not accustomed to being bitten by my own cat in my own home. My husband, the big animal lover, even agreed it might be Walter's time. I guess it depends if he continues the crazed-cat-I-want-to- kill-you behavior.

On the weight loss front (this is a Weight Loss Journey blog, so I should probably say something about weight loss.

Up two pounds this morning to 158.4. Absolutely no exercise yesterday, not even the bike ride. Yesterday I had pancakes with warm raspberry sauce for breakfast (WW recipe, but still), a whole turkey sandwich for lunch (if I eat sandwiches, always just 1/2 sandwich), and Szechwan chicken stir fry for dinner. Too much food! Cutting back today and going to the gym, maybe after I leave the clinic with my antibiotics. Yes folks, I'm a machine.

Note: Well damn it Walter...I just Googled cat bite treatment and it says I MUST see a doctor for antibiotics or I can die from a viral infection that could very well set in from the bite. I know that's what happened last time (obviously I didn't die, but I did get a really bad infection that involved IV drip antibiotics). I'm also feeling kind of nauseous and like I have a fever. I just took my temp and it's 99.6. So I'm off to the walk-in clinic. Freakin' fun weekend here.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Day 3 - finding balance

This is my walk during lunch yesterday. The trailhead is about 1/2 mile from my office and ends at the water, Puget Sound, in Des Moines, WA. The total walk is almost six miles. Very steep going down, very steep back up.

My excessive exercising has to stop. The last three days I've exercised over three hours a day. Yesterday I went to the gym for an hour and a half in the morning, then walked six miles at lunch (another hour and a half). The walk was brutal. I was tired and hungry when I started. On the way back if I'd been on a road, I would have called one of my coworkers to come get me, but I was out on a trail through the woods. I had no choice except to walk the almost three miles back to my office.

As a result of all of yesterday's exercise (and the six hours the previous two days), last night I was in agony. My legs and arms ached. Even my back was hurting and it never hurts. What the hell am I doing to myself?

I'm not sure why I struggle so much with finding balance in my life. Yesterday I tried balancing on a Bosu ball, like MizFit tried recently (except I had the ball upside down, which I think is difficult). I watched a guy about my age do it while I was on the elliptical. He made it look so easy. I tried it and couldn't even stand on the thing with both feet on it and holding onto the rail of a weight machine. I was incredibly wobbly and kept falling off.

That's my life...incredibly wobbly. It's probably why in the past I've always "fallen off". Too much exercise, too much food. Too much exercise, not enough food. Not enough exercise, too much food. Most people might thing I'm nuts (and they're probably right), but I seem to have developed some sort of maniacal exercise addiction. I have a very addictive personality. It's a miracle I'm not a crackhead or an alcoholic. I just chose food as my drug. Now it's exercise.

I need to find a happy medium in my life. Be normal, like my friend Mary. I really want to be just like her when I grow up. She seems to have it all figured out.

Today I'm limiting myself to one hour of exercise. It's going to be a bike ride with my husband. That's all. No gym, no hiking, just a little bike ride. I'm already feeling the withdrawal symptoms. Yes, it's official, I'm crazy.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Day two, harder than day one but still good

My bike ride today
B.P.A. Trail, Federal Way, WA
May 21, 2009

Day two of my 7-day "I give a damn" plan was actually more difficult than day one. I had that crazy, I'm starving, out of control and can't get enough food feeling. You know the feeling I'm talking about, the one when you lose all control and binge. In my former life I felt like this all the time and didn't even try to keep it in check. That's how I got up to 240 pounds.

Somehow I kept in control today. Maybe because work was super busy or maybe because I feel a sense of commitment to my plan. Regardless, it's after midnight, and I stayed OP all day.

I took a planned day off from the gym today. Well, actually it became a planned day off when I woke up and every muscle in my body ached, and I felt exhausted. I want to take one day off a week, but not a specific day. Just when my body tells me enough already, let's take a break.

I made up for missing the gym with a five-mile walk at lunch (hour and a half lunch). I walked the trail near my work, which is a really cool paved trail through the woods and it runs along a little creek. I love that trail. It's downhill for the first 2.5 miles, then uphill for the return 2.5 miles (and it's steep). I ran most of it on the uphill portion.

When I got home I went for a nine-mile bike ride (one hour). I love, love, love my bike! Why on earth would anyone do hot yoga when they could go bike riding on a sunny day? I really don't understand what's wrong with people.

So even though it was a rough day because of the hunger, any day when I don't have a binge or eat in the middle of the night or attend a hot yoga class, is a good day!

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Day 1 - I don't remember it being this hard

It's almost 10 p.m. and thank God Day 1 is almost over of my 7-day "I'll actually give a damn and will give this 100% of my effort".

I'm so tired right now I can barely sit here and type this. Stupid, dumb, sucky hot yoga class. I thought maybe I didn't get enough torture on Sunday so I went to another 90-minute hot yoga class tonight.

Let me just say this one more time...I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I'm never going back there, I'm done with it. I spent the last 30 minutes of class laying flat on my back with the Nazi at the door refusing to let anyone out. Plus, somehow I wound up next a space heater so I'm pretty sure where I was laying it was 150 degrees, not 105 degrees. I've never been so nauseous in my whole life. It was like being sea sick but I wasn't on a boat. I wish I would have just said to hell with it and walked out. What would they do, never let me come back?

I came home drenched in sweat again, shaking because I was so sick feeling, and horribly nauseous. Jack thinks I got heat stroke and he may be right. Whatever, I'm really done with it. They can keep their stinkin' $8 for the eight classes I'm not going to take.

I got on the scale this morning. Bad news. I weigh 159.2. Ugh! I was 151.4 two weeks ago, although I was weak and sick feeling. I was 156.2 just two days ago. Four pounds in two days. Hmmm...what could have caused that? Possibly all the food I've been eating? Nothing terrible, just a some extra here and there, and it all adds up.

My new plan is to cut out all the crap, meaning all the dieter's junk food...sugar-free candy, sugar-free ice cream, sugar-free coffee creamer, that kind of stuff. It tastes like shit anyway so I don't even know why I eat it. Also no eating after 8pm. I've always thought that was a stupid Oprah rule, but I need to put a stop to the late night grazing I've been doing.

Note: I've already blown two things. I didn't get home until 8:30pm from yoga so I had to eat something. I had a chicken breast, and get this, a very small, sugar-free vanilla ice cream cone. That was my dinner. Totally stayed within my Points today, 24 total. I'm allowed 19, but my 7 activity Points, so 26 for today.

My Exercise
I'm rockin' it at the gym these days. My workouts are awesome. I've increased my weight lifting time to 45 minutes. Plus I haven't seen gym-guy-that-likes-to-touch-my-sweaty-biceps (ewwww!) all week, so it's been a really good week so far. Of course, I've been avoiding the area where I know he works out. Luckily it's a huge gym so I have three weight rooms and two cardio areas to choose from.

I read this great book that's really helping me change my workouts. Fewer reps, three sets, and heavier weights. I can really feel it. My arms, legs and back are really sore, for the first time in months. The book is Hers a Woman's Guide to Weight Training: Weider Books/Muscle & Fitness, but it's out of print. I guess I've had it for a few years, just never read it until last weekend.

30-minutes Crossramp

Strength (45 minutes)
Military pushups with upside-down Bosu ball - 3 x 10
Lateral pulldown - 12 @ 65 lb. / 10 @ 67.5 lb. / 8 @ 70 lb.
Deltoid Raise - 12 @ 40 lb. / 12 @ 42.5 lb. / 8 @ 45 lb.
Military Dumbell press - 12 @ 20 lb. / 10 @ 20 lb. / 8 @ 20 lb.
Tricep rope pulldown - 12 @ 40 lb. / 10 @ 41.25 lb. / 8 @ 42.5 lb.
Concentrated Bicep Curls - 12 @ 20 lb. / 4 @ 25 lb. <-----obviously 25 pounds is still too heavy for me!

The Copper River salmon are back! My favorite fish. Woohoo!

Posted today in our online company newsletter:
Preliminary numbers show that --shall remain nameless-- Airlines transported 162,000 pounds of Copper River salmon out of Cordova on eight separate flights, including two freighters, on May 19. That followed the second 12-hour Copper River opener of the year.

That is very likely a record for the amount of Copper River salmon transported in a day and 100,000 pounds more than was shipped on the opening day Friday. The salmon season is off to a solid start with commercial fishermen near Cordova scooping 1,549 kings and 20,216 sockeye out of the water on opening day.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The motivation and a message to my fat girl

The motivation
It's funny how someones weight loss success can really motivate me. Seeing Carlos lose 14.6 pounds this past week was a huge motivator. I've been following his blog from the beginning, and I've seen him have weeks where he stumbled and fell, then weeks when he rocked it. Last week, he knocked it out of the park.

I know how hard this is for Carlos. He has food issues, much the same as I do, the same as many of the people reading this. Yet I have no doubt with his determination he's going to succeed. His new, "I give a damn" attitude is what's going to keep him on track and get him to the finish line.

His seven-day commitment made me wonder what I could do if I really gave a damn over a seven-day period. I'm still hanging right around 156, up and down a couple pounds. I know why. It's because I'm not participating in this 100%. I'm doing a half-assed job, and this is a job. The working out, the eating within my Points, the journaling, it's all just another job.

I'm making a 7-day commitment, starting Wednesday, May 20 and ending next Wednesday, May 27 to give this my full attention, like I did week after week in the beginning. I've got the exercise part down perfectly, it's my eating that needs work. What if I actually journaled and sayed within my Points, for a whole week? I wonder what would happen. I bet I might actually lose some weight. I'm going to give it 100% for one solid week and see what kind of results I get.

The message
Here's the message to the fat girl that still lives inside of me. It's also my new, most favorite workout song, it had me literally running on the StairMaster this morning at level 8, sweating like a whore in church (my Mormon coworker's favorite phrase as of late - go figure).

Goodbye by Kartina DeBarge

Monday, May 18, 2009

Losing it...the last 20

I remember when I was at my highest weight of 240 and I'd read posts written by other people, posting about trying to lose their last 20 pounds. I'd think 'oh brother! Just shut up already." I wanted to read about someone with real problems, problems like my own, someone that had over 100 pounds to lose.

Now I'm one of those people that I held in such disdain, and perhaps was a bit jealous of their plight. I felt that 20 pounds was nothing, that any moron could drop 20 pounds. Well, I must be a total and complete moron because I can't seem to lose this weight.

I'm pretty sure I'm hanging on to it for psychological reasons. I secretly think when I get to goal my life will be perfect, and if it's not, then I'll make it perfect. Whether it's my job or my marriage or my smallish breasts, I'll fix it. Because I'll be skinny and the world will be my oyster. Deep down in my heart, I know that's a load of crap. My life won't be perfect, and I won't be any more capable of making it perfect when I'm skinny than I am now.

I'm hanging on to this last 20 pounds for the same reason I held on to the last 85 pounds. It's my excuse. My excuse for not living my life like I should be living it. For not taking care of things that need my attention. I'm the world's greatest procrastinator, and if there's a problem in my life, I'll do my best to avoid it. I'm the proverbial head in the sand girl.

So knowing all this about myself should make this next step easier, right? You would think so, but it doesn't seem to really help. It's almost like knowing this is making it even harder for me. If I lose the 20 pounds and my life isn't fabulous, then what excuse will I have for the problems in my life? I won't be able to blame them on my fat. I'll have to put the blame squarely on my own shoulders. That's not exactly something I look forward to doing.

I have no real answer to this little dilemma of mine. Except one. I need to move forward and damn what happens when I reach my goal. I need to stop thinking about the whys and the whats of not being able to do this: Why can't I lose this weight? Why don't I want to lose the weight? What am I afraid of? What's stopping me? I have the answers to all those questions and they're all irrelevant.

I just need to do this, for me. Not because it'll make my life perfect, it most certainly won't. Maybe it'll make me take responsibility for my life and fix what needs fixing, and not blame the fat girl for making it all so impossible.

Favorite foods of the month:
(both from my neighborhood fresh produce market--so delicious!)
Fresh Sweet Darling strawberries (super sweet)
Baby Tuscan melons (I'd never seen these before)

I've also changed my breakfast to having a protein shake every other day using goat whey. I prefer my yummy egg-2% cheese-Canadian bacon-multi-grain muffin for 6 Points, but the shake has 40 grams of protein for the same 6 Points, versus 26 grams of protein for the egg sandwich. It's not as tasty, but I'm trying to increase my protein without increasing my caloric intake too much.

Exercise 5/18/2009:
20 minutes elliptical
20 minutes StairMaster

55 minutes - Upper body workout (intense w/ 20 & 25 pound dumbbells/50 pound triceps pull downs)

I'm kicking up my strength training a notch. I read a fitness book over the weekend and worked up a new routine for myself. Three sets, fewer reps done pyramid (8 - 10 - 12), with heavier weights, 20 and 25 pound dumbbells. Alternate day Upper/Lower body workouts. Limit strength to four times a week , one hour - this is going to kill me. I love strength training. It's my favorite thing at the gym.

I was doing 2 sets with, 15 reps, with 15- and 20-pound dumbbells. I haven't seen any change in my muscles for several months. If I want MizFit's arms, I'm going to have to work for them.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Hell Hatha Hot Yoga

King Dancer Pose - Natarajasana (which I can totally do without falling over!)

I'm sure if there's exercise in hell, it's Hatha Hot Yoga. OMG! I seriously thought I was going to die or throw up or pass out or all three. It was HOT! They said 110 degrees, but the place was packed with people (at least 80), so I'm sure it was even hotter. The humidity was set at 60%.

Did I like it? Um, actually, I would have to say no, I kind of hated it. It was so hot I could barely breath. I've never perspired that much in my entire life. It made a spinning class look like a walk in the park. It was basically 90 minutes of hell.

You're not suppose to talk or leave the room, unless there's an emergency. I had to focus on not saying "fuck" out loud every two minutes as I twisted my body into unnatural and extremely painful positions. I seriously thought about walking out at least ten times. Especially during the last thirty minutes of the ninety minute class. I probably would have left but they have a guy guarding the exit. I saw one girl try to leave and he talked her into staying.

I've never gone to a yoga class before today. I always thought yoga was for sissies and would be a big waste of my time. If I go to an exercise class it's always a high intensity aerobics class or spinning. Never yoga. Yoga is definitely not for sissies. It was probably the most intense and most difficult exercise class I've ever taken.

There were 27 yoga poses, two sets of each. I was surprised I could do all the poses, I'm a lot more flexible than I thought. There was one pose that made me dizzy and want to throw up. I think it was called the Frog, you sit on your knees, legs under you, arms straight out front, and drop your head back until you're looking at the wall behind you. Then you grab your heels (part of your towel is over your feet so you can grip them better). You pull yourself back even further while holding on to your heels. I was able to do it the first time, but I seriously didn't feel well afterwards. I just sat there for the second time. I felt like I was going to pass out and the room was spinning. The instructor saw me not moving and said it's very common for people to get dizzy and nauseous in this pose. Ha! No kidding.

I have nine more sessions so I'll probably go for those nine session. I'm not sure this is something I want to keep doing for a lifetime. I honestly don't know why it's so popular. The heat is very uncomfortable, in fact, to me it was unbearable. It didn't feel relaxing to me, just miserable. Like I was suffocating. While the poses were doable for me, they hurt. My butt is already sore and it's only been a couple hours.

If you do hot yoga, please tell me, what is there to like? Am I missing something? Why do you enjoy it? Or maybe you don't really enjoy it but do it because it's suppose to be good for you? Kind of like how I do the StairMaster and the elliptical at the gym. Whatever it is that makes so many people do hot yoga, I'm just not feeling it.

Hot Hatha Yoga

I'm just about ready to head out for my 9am Hot Hatha Yoga. They're running a special this week of 10 classes for $10 (usually $15 a class). I guess business is slow, probably the economy people cutting back on expenses.

I'm probably the only person I know that hasn't tried hot yoga (except my husband, he thinks I'm crazy but he thinks that anyway). Everyone tells me it's the wonderful, so I'm going to give it a try.

Their web site says the room is 105 degrees and 60% humidify, which to me sounds sort of like what expect to see in Hell. It's a 90-minute class and they advise students to bring a "large" towel for sweating, and a plastic bag to put your dripping towel in after class so you don't leave a "sweat trail". Doesn't that just make you really want to run on down there and join in the torture fun?

I'll post later how it goes. It can't be any harder than the 90-minute spinning class yesterday. In fact, it sounds like it'll be a cake walk in comparison.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Are you kidding me? A 1 1/2 hour spinning class?

I didn't know what I was getting myself into this morning when I showed up for the 10:30 a.m. spinning class at my gym. I've done spinning classes before, they're hard but fun. A good way to really burn some calories. Since I had about four glasses of wine last night I was feeling a little out of sorts this morning and thought a good workout would get me going.

Oh my freak! As we neared the one hour mark I was thinking, well, thank God, I made it! A near death experience, but I'm almost done. 540 calories burned. Then I heard the instructor say, "Okay! We're at one hour, just 30 more minutes to go! Now pump it up!" WTF?! Thirty more minutes and surely I would be dead!

I made it all the way through the class, keeping pace with her to the end. I burned 743 calories according to my trusty heart rate monitor. I just checked the Weight Watchers web site and 90 minutes of spinning is 11 Activity Points! I feel a little weak and light headed, but I think I sweated any poison out of my system that was leftover from last night's little drinking binge. I don't do that very often, but I can sure feel the after effects a lot more now that I'm older.

Now if I can just keep my eating in check today, tomorrow's weighin might be okay.

Speaking of eating, my husband had made a batch of No-Pudge brownies while I was at the gym. The box has been in the pantry, hidden in the back, for over a year. He found it. I told him you were only suppose to make one serving at a time, like it says on the box. I was going to do that, some day, when I was feeling strong enough to eat just one. The box makes 12 servings. I may have to kill him. Seriously, brownies, in my house? Doesn't he know me better than that?

Friday, May 15, 2009

Desperately seeking perfection

All my life I just wanted to look normal, or so I thought. I told myself if I wasn't fat and was physically fit, then I'd be happy with my body.

Well, as you've probably guessed, I was dead wrong. I'm not fat and I'm very physically fit, probably the most fit I've been in my entire life. Yet I'm still not happy with my body. In my mind "normal" is actually perfection. I want to weigh the perfect weight, have perfect perky breasts, perfect thin thighs, perfect slim hips and a perfect,flat stomach. The reality of it is that my body was never "perfect", not even when I was 21 and weighed 128. My breasts were too small, my hips too wide, and my thighs too chubby. Okay, I did have a perfectly flat stomach, I actually remember being happy with it

I know I'm too critical of myself, trust me, I hear it all the time from you guys, my friends, my husband and even "strangers" at the gym. I'm starting to accept my flawed body. I'll never be a Victoria Secret model or be in Playboy, not that those were ever my aspirations anyway. However, there's one part of my body I'm thinking about changing and it involves surgery, breast augmentation surgery. I know if I'd read this in a blog about a year ago I would have posted a "don't do it!" comment. Followed by, "it's dangerous, it can kill you, are you doing it for a man?".

Honestly, I want to do this for myself. My breasts look fine with clothes and a good bra, but not so good on their own. They've shrunk at an alarming rate and not proportionately to my waist and hips. They're much smaller than they were the last time I dropped 100 pounds. I don't want massive breasts, I just want them in proportion to my hips. This is the gift I'm going to give myself when I reach goal. I want to be the old lady in the retirement home with the perfect, perky boobies.

One other gift I'm giving myself and for which my husband will probably for sure divorce me, is a tattoo. One of my best friends came in to work today and showed me the tattoo she got last night. It's incredibly beautiful. It's runs down her side from her bra line to mid-hip. It's a crane, surrounded by cherry blossoms. Of course it helps that her body is amazing (she's 27), but it's the coolest looking tattoo I've ever seen. I haven't decided what to get or where to get it, but I will get it. So then I'll be the old lady with the perfect boobs and the tattoo (and probably divorced). Heck, you only live once, right?

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Is it worth it?

Today I attended a friend's 35-year company anniversary party. I saw a lot of people I've worked with throughout the years but haven't seen for a very long time. Some of them knew me when I was skinny (123) and some knew me when I was fat (240), but every single one of them said almost the same thing...Oh my God! You're so skinny! You look fantastic! I probably heard that at least 30 times today. It was a huge morale boost. Just what I needed.

First of all, I AM NOT SKINNY. Far from it, I'm about 20 pounds from my perfect weight (135). My weight this morning was 156.6, up a tiny bit, so definitely not skinny. On the other hand, I really wouldn't call myself fat either.

What was interesting was they had a slide show displaying on one wall, showing pictures of people that had worked with my friend over the years. There were several pictures of me, from about 15 years ago, during one of my normal weight phases. I heard people say, Diana, there you are! I looked up at the screen and I'm serious, I didn't recognize myself at first. My hair was different, I use to wear it shorter and curly and not as blond, and I was about 15 years younger. I have a thing about having my picture taken, I've always hated it. For the obvious reason, I always thought I was fat and ugly.

As I looked at myself on the screen, I thought, why did I think I was so fat back then? I probably weighed about 130. I remember the shirt, it was a size small and I was wearing size 6 jeans. Funny, I can tell you my weight and what size I was wearing at just about any point in my life. Then I thought, and why on earth did I think I was so ugly? The woman, about 38 years old, looking down at me was not ugly, nor was she fat. She was kind of cute and definitely looked healthy. I remembered back then I did a high-impact, step aerobics class four times a week and was a vegetarian. Honestly, I looked pretty good.

It made me start thinking, in another fifteen years when I'm 68 am I going to look back at my pictures from today and think the same thing about myself--why did I think I was so fat and ugly back then?

I have terrible self-esteem issues that I've been trying to work through. It's really hard after a lifetime of negative self-talk-- I'm fat--I'm ugly--I'm stupid-- to turn it off. The voices in my head sometimes take over and I can't seem to shut them up. I know this is why I've had so many weight problems over the years. In a way, I guess I didn't think I was worthy of losing the weight and keeping it off. I wasn't worthy of being happy.

Something has changed in me this time around. I can't quite put my finger on it, but this time, I do think I'm worthy of being happy. Maybe because I'm older and wiser, maybe because I know there isn't a lot of time left to waste being fat and unhappy. At 53 my days are numbered. I'm on the downside of life, past middle age, entering into the last few decades on this earth.

Whatever age you are right now, you are worthy of being happy. Don't waste years of your life like I did, bouncing up and down by 50 or 100 pounds at a time, always unhappy with yourself. Always being critical, saying negative things in your head about how you look. Feeling worthless because of your weight and your inability to lose the weight and keep it off. I know it's hard to lose weight, damn hard, and even harder to keep it off. Some days even now I think well screw it. I don't want to exercise and I'm sick to death of counting Points. Then I remember myself from February 2008. That sad 240-pound woman was broken, in body and in spirit.

Is it worth it? Yes.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

What I remember about being fat

Two posts in one day. I think maybe I have too much time on my hands lately.

I'm not a big fan of the Biggest Loser. I watch parts of it each season, but rarely make it through an entire episode. A lot of times I don't even watch it. The main reason I'm not very fond of it is because I can't stand the crying and the whining. I don't like the unrealistic losses each week and worry about regular people thinking that it's normal, and setting themselves up for disappointment. I watch just enough to get a feel for who I like and who I can't stand.

Even though I'm not crazy about BL, I always watch the finale. I love seeing the before and after pictures. What I love the most though are the stories about how tough life was before the weight loss and how good things are now. The reason I love this is because it's a reality check for me. As nuts as this sounds, sometimes I almost can't remember what my life was like fifteen months ago when I weighed 239.

It's strange because it's something I thought I'd never forget, the misery that comes with being obese. I've been in the 155-160 range since last December, amost five months ago. It seems like I've weighed this my entire life. Then I listen to the BL stories and go, oh yeah, I do remember what it was like 85 pounds ago. It was horrible. Everything they talk about I can relate to.

I remember what it was like to not live my life. I remember how hard it was to walk up a flight of stairs, how food was my life and how I couldn't stop eating it. I remember the massive quantities of food I'd consume. I remember the physical pain and mental anquish of carrying around an extra hundred pounds on my body. I remember feeling ugly and hopeless and hating myself. I remember what it was like to be embarrassed just to be alive. You bet I remember it, I remember every horrible minute of living the life of an obese person. I remember the sadness and the humiliation of being fat.

Then the BL contestants talk about their lives now, post weight loss. I can relate to that too. It reminds me how good my life is now. I can do things now I could never do before. I can climb rock walls, ride my bike up very steep hills with 20 mph headwinds without taking a break (like yesterday), I can hike for miles and snowshoe for hours. I can walk into a room with my shoulders squared, standing tall, with my head held high. I can look people in the eye without feeling ashamed of my body. When I go on walks with people almost half my age, they can't keep up with me. I totally love being physically fit and strong.

I feel proud of what I've accomplished. It was and is worth every minute of deprivation, and every hour of exercise. For anyone reading this and saying, oh, you shouldn't deprive yourself, I beg to differ. In order to lose weight, you have to have some deprivation. You simply can't eat until you're full and you can't eat everything you want. It's pretty simple really, more calories out than in. I tell myself every day that this isn't rocket science. It's so easy, yet, it's so hard.

That's what I love about the BL finale episode. It brings it all back to me in vivid detail. The bad and the good. It saddens me to be reminded of how many years I wasted being fat, yet it motivates me to continue with healthy eating and exercise for the rest of my life. It reminds me that being obese and out of shape isn't a place I ever want to even visit again. As one person on BL said tonight, this is the life I always dreamed of living.

I still have 20 pounds to go to reach goal of 135, but tonight, after watching the BL finale, it seems obtainable. I just have to keep my eye on the prize in front of me, as well as never forget what I've left behind me.

I'm just not that into you

My morning gym experience has been ruined by a guy that keeps talking to me. I'm there to work out, not make friends. I don't know how to tactfully tell him to go away. I know it's my fault for letting him talk to me in the first place, but it's becoming weird.

I've even started wearing my wedding rings when lifting weights and no weight-lifting gloves. You should see the callouses I've developed on my palms in the last couple of weeks. Plus it hurts like hell lifting 25-pound dumbells while wearing rings. I know he knows I'm married, I think he's just lonely. He told me he had to break up with his girlfriend last fall because she was crazy and since then he's gained 30 pounds. Do I seriously need to know these things?

He likes to get on the elliptical next to me when I'm doing my cardio, then come down and lift weights with me. He's told more than once that I'm a beautiful woman and he really appreciates seeing a woman sweat and lift weights and blah blah blah. See what I mean? It's getting kind of icky.

A guy friend of mine told me to tell him I'm flattered, but I'm really there to workout and not socialize. I'm trying to build up the courage to do this, but I'm not good at rejecting people. I guess I'm going to have to learn. I feel sort of sorry for him, but it's really starting to hinder my workouts.

I don't think I'm doing or saying anything that would make him think I'm interested, and he doesn't appear stupid, but I just don't know how to get rid of him. I know he works out at 6am so I'm doing my best to work out at 5am or at lunch or at night. That's how I deal with difficult things in general, just avoid them. It's my standard M.O. in life, avoidance.

I'm not sure how much longer I can get up at 4:40 a.m. to make a 5 a.m. workout. I hate working out at night and can only do a noon workout if I'm telecommuting (like today). It kind of sucks to be honest. There really should be a rule at the gym, just like the "only use cardio equipment for 30 minutes", there should be a rule "don't speak to anyone that you don't know".

Monday, May 11, 2009

It was the worst of times

Okay, reality check, last weekend was the worst of times. It was just a crappy weekend for my marriage, with two major arguments with my husband. Add in a big disagreement with an old friend, and having a cat with cancer put down (he was diagnosed three days ago with a very aggressive form of cancer). It was just a big old crapfest of a weekend.

I took the day off from work today to regroup, try to get my head on straight. I really hate it when all areas of my life suck. Marriage, work, friends, pets. Gosh, what's left that can go wrong? Oh yeah, my eating. Lest I forget, it was a crappy eating weekend too. I didn't go crazy, but I ate about a cup of pecans Saturday night. I highly do not recommend this as a binge food. First of all, it's a very high calorie food that isn't that good (why? I could have had cookies!). Second, it made me feel kind of sick all night. Then Sunday night I ate two big bowls of Kashi cereal. I didn't even weigh this morning. I feel fat and that means I am fat.

Somehow, I stuck with the exercise both Saturday, Sunday and today. Even when I do everything else wrong, I manage to stick with my exercise. I'm going for a bike ride now, and the wind is howling and blowing. I suspect a rainstorm is going to happen any minute. Maybe my luck will change and I'll get struck by lightening and I won't have to worry about all this shit anymore. Okay, really, I'm just kidding about the lightening. I don't have any death wishes, at least not at the moment. Did you know if you tell your therapist you're suicidal they have to report you and you'll be committed? Just something to think about.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

26 mph and bunny rabbits

I love riding my bike. I love it - love it - love it! I was flying downhills today at 26 mph. This was new for me because the fastest I've allowed myself to go is 20 mph. I'm always holding down the brake going downhill even though I love speed. I love driving my car fast, but on my bike I feel so exposed. I have this vision of hitting a rock and flying off my bike and breaking my arm or my hip (please God, not the hip...that would officially classify me as old!).

The bunny rabbits were everywhere today. Cute little brown guys with little fluffy white bunny tails. The cutest things ever.

Bike riding is so much fun and the easiest exercise I've ever done. My heart rate hangs right around 140, sometimes going up to 161 (my resting heart rate is 48). I always burn at least 500 calories in an hour. I love the sunshine and the wind on my face. I don't even mind the bugs in my teeth (riding through clouds of gnats with my mouth open...yuck!).

I made it all the way to the top of steepest hill today without stopping. I couldn't let the lady with the baby in a stroller that was running up the hill beat me to the top.

If you don't own a bike or haven't ridden one in a while, you've got to get out there and do it. I seriously haven't had this much fun working out in years. My new rule though is if I bike for an hour, no gym. It's a good rule, and good for me. Moderation in all things, including exercise.

My week in review

I've noticed I'm posting less and less these days. I really don't know why. I'm not any busier than I was during the past year when I faithfully posted every day. During the day I'm always thinking of something to write about, but then I sit down at the computer, I'm a big, fat blank. Writer's block. I can't think of a single thing to say.

Since there aren't any profound thoughts I want to share, I'm just doing my week in review. Nothing exciting, nothing terribly interesting, just a brief synopsis of what I've been up to.

The StairMaster is finally fix at my gym. It's the old-fashioned kind where it's a set of rotating stairs. I LOVE this machine! I've added 15-20 minutes on it, in addition to 20 minutes elliptical.

I found a new love at the gym. Basketball! Yes, little old me, after I'm all sweated up from the elliptical and StairMaster. I go into the gymnasium at Ballys and play basketball by myself for about 20 minutes. It's totally fun. My heart rate gets up to 146 and because I'm so focused on dribbling the ball without losing it and making baskets, it doesn't even feel like I'm working out.

A guy at my gym started talking to me on Monday. He's usually on the elliptical in the mornings, and we always nod a hello. Monday he came up to me while I was on the chin-up assist machine. He started talking to me about how muscled my back looked and talked about working out and losing weight. He wants to lose 30 pounds.

He seemed nice and was very complimentary. He told me he just wanted me to know that he'd noticed me working out and that I was a beautiful woman. I was a little taken aback and I think I muttered a thank you. I asked him his age because he made a couple comments about being so old, but he didn't look old. I had to laugh when he said he was 38, then I told him I was 53. I figured that would make him go away, but it didn't. Funny thing about the whole thing, I've been going to that same gym for almost fifteen months and haven't had a single conversation with a single person in all that time.

I ate a dozen Costco cookies over a two-day period this week. It's a long story how they got into my house in the first place (a big no-no), but they're all gone. No more cookies for me. I didn't gain back my 85 pounds, and nothing really bad happened to me because of the cookies. I don't even feel guilty about it and it didn't start me on a spiral of unchecked eating like I expected. It happened, and it's over. No big deal.

I'm back up to 156 versus the 151 I was last weekend, but I feel human again. I feel strong and healthy. Yesterday I had a two-hour workout at the gym and I rocked it. Before anyone shouts out "exercise anorexia" please note I took off two days from the gym last week, Tuesday and Wednesday. So I'm more than okay, with the the weight gain and working out less. The 151 was reached by doing crazy things like working out 2-3 hours a day and skipping meals. Totally not healthy. I feel 100% better this weekend than last weekend. 156 really isn't that fat anyway, it's just not exactly where I want to be. I'm still working towards 135, but I'm okay at 156.

I have a bike ride planned today. Sunshine in the Northwest, gorgeous.

I was in Las Vegas for work on Wednesday. A 15-hour day. I actually took some time at lunch and sat outside in the 96 degree heat. It felt wonderful. I probably wouldn't want to live there, but it was a nice break from the past week of rainstorms in Seattle.

That's it, my boring life in review. Nothing terribly interesting or exciting. Maybe next weeek I'll think of something profound to say. Then again, maybe not.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Stressed, who? Me?

1. Woke up super later this morning, made a conscious decision to be late to work so I could get my workout in. Got to the gym at 6:30am, at 6:40am my iPod died. I can't workout without blaring music of my chocie (the gym's music sucks).

2. Stressed about missing workout. Think maybe Graciela is right. Maybe I do have midlife exercise anorexia nervosa. Can't stand the idea of not working out so brought workout stuff to work, will stop at gym on the way home. The article.

2. Rushed home, fight with husband before he left for work. Nice way to start the day.

3. Asthmatic cat wheezing like he's dying a slow death. Spent $600 on him last week, three vet visits, x-rays, medicine, oxygen. Advised to buy $300 HEPA room air filter. This morning ordered online with rush delivery.

4. Decided to wear a dress today since only two pairs of jeans that fit (10's) and both were in laundry. No pantyhose and legs are NOT tan. Wearing thigh highs and a corset garter getup. WTF was I thinking? Ever try to go to the bathroom wearing a corset with garters? Oh yeah, wearing three-inch heels too. Feel like a hooker.

5. Tried to check gmail at work and my backdoor access is now blocked. Damn company security. Found another backdoor after 15 minutes searching Google.

6. Filled out a very long, full of mumbo jumbo technical shit form for vendor access to our network. Right before I hit submit I kicked my computer which sits on the floor and disconnected it. Lost everything.

7. Everyone wants something from me today. I feel like my adult ADD is out of control.

Yes, I'm just a wee bit stressed out today.

Monday, May 4, 2009

The race is off...the email to end it

I had a bad weekend. After being weak, sick, shaky, high blood pressure, low blood sugar, I decided to hell with the "getting to the finish line" first that I initiated with my girlfriend that's on Medifast. Here's the email I sent her this morning:

Hi Dawn,
Okay, I'm calling our friendly competition to an end. The reason is that I think it's killing me. I've known you for over twenty years and this isn't the first time we've had a weight loss competition.

Remember 1990, we entered that lose 20 pounds in a month contest at work. I weighed 155. We both made taking laxatives at the very end to lose the last few pounds. We were both so sick we thought we were going die. We lived in the bathroom the day of our weigh in. It was the first time we'd taken a laxative and the last. We promptly gained back the 20 pounds and more.

We did the Weight Watchers at work three years ago and even though it wasn't a formal competition, we were both competing each week to lose the most weight. We both know what happened there, again we both gained the weight back.

You would think I'd learn after all these years that losing weight as quickly as possible is positively idiotic. I always gain it back as fast or faster than I lost it. Since we (I know, it was my blasted idea) started this last Tuesday, I've dropped five pounds. Yesterday I was 151.2. Last Tuesday I was 156.6.

How did I manage to lose that much at this stage in the game? Simple, I over-exercised and didn't eat enough. I had a few days of three hours of exercise and several days of two hours. I've worked out the last seven days without a day off.

Yesterday it all came to a head. I woke up feeling kind of nauseous and weak. I weighed and was thrilled to see 151.2 on my scales. I went for a bike ride where 3/4 up the steepest hill and when my heart rate was 161, I had to stop and throw up. Stopping so suddenly when my heart rate was so high made me feel like I was having a heart attack. I barely made it the rest of the way home (another four miles of hills).

I got home and went to Costco, where half-way through shopping I almost past out. I went to the bathroom and threw up again. Except there was nothing to throw up because I hadn't eating since 8am and it was 3pm (there was the bike ride at 1pm where I burned 540 calories). I had to call Jack to come finish the shopping so I could go home. When I got home I checked my blood pressure, it was 139/80. That's the highest it's been in over a year. I think my body was overly stressed.

I think you can see what I've been doing. Basically, everything wrong. Too much exercise, not enough food, trying to lose weight as fast as possible so I can win. If I continue down this path I'm going to lose my health and that certainly won't make me a winner.

I'll happily pay you for whatever you lose. I just want out of the race. I still want to lose my last 20 pounds (okay, now it's only 16 pounds), but I don't want to lose everything I've work towards for the last 14 months. I don't want to lose my health. I'll lose the weight at my own pace, maybe six months, maybe a year, but I refuse to set unrealistic goals for myself.

This way, it's a win-win situation. You'll win because you'll make goal sooner than me, and you're as competitive as me, maybe even more, so that will make you happy. I'll win because I'll get to stay healthy and feel good.

Your friend,
P.S. -- if I ever suggest a weight loss competition again, you have my permission to slap me up side the head.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

153.2 and I feel like hell

It's official, I'm into new fat territory.

5/3/2009 weigh-in: 153.2 pounds

Total lost: 86 pounds

Pounds to lose to 135 goal: 18.2 pounds

How I feel: Like crap

I seriously don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm running on empty. I'm shaky and weak. If I bend over and stand up too fast I get dizzy and see stars. I've felt like this all week. What's wrong with me?

I've been over my bronchitis and coughing for at least a week. I'm completely off my codeine cough medicine. I'm taking my vitamins, eating all my Points (19 + 4 AP + 5 Flex...or 28 a day and sometimes more). I'm not starving myself, although I am very hungry. The only thing I'm doing differently is killing myself with the exercise.

Each day during the week I go to the gym, never later than 5:30am, and work out for 1 1/2 hours. At lunch I've been walking for an hour, as long as it's not pouring down rain. At night I do an hour bike ride as long as there's no rain (stupid Northwest weather). The walking and biking don't seem like exercise since they're fun.

On weekends I work out a little longer at the gym, yesterday my heart rate monitor said I burned 666 calories in one hour and forty minutes. I noticed the "666" and thought great, the mark of the devil. Whatever. My heart rate monitor always says about 1/2 of what the machines say so it's pretty accurate.

I just don't know know why I feel so weak and light headed. I told my husband this morning that if I'm late eating a meal I really feel like I'm going to pass out. The first thing I do when I get home from my morning workouts is make breakfast and God help you if you get between me and my food. Hint: stay out of the kitchen when I'm making breakfast.

My only hope is when I reach maintenance I can cut back a little on the exercise and maybe I won't feel so crappy. I really felt my best at 160. I felt healthy then. Now, not so much. Now I just feel tired and weak. Not muscular weak since I can military press 70 pounds, but a general weakness and exhaustion that I can't shake. Being thin isn't really my goal, feeling healthy is my goal. Whatever is wrong with me I sure hope it passes soon. Anyone else feel like this as they neared their goal weight? Does it eventually pass?