Balancing The Scales

The Journey Of Losing 30 Pounds Starts With...Meh, What The Hell Do I Know?

So.

I've started [yet aFUCKINGgain] to keep track of my weight, eating and physical exercise.  I weighed myself about 2 weeks ago.

Um.

165.

That's about 30 pounds to lose.

*sigh*

I've lost around that amount of weight probably twice before.  Maybe three times.  And here I am again.  I gain weight for lots of *reasons.*  I am aware that other people use the word *excuses* but I'm not partial to it, feeling that it's sort of...punitive?  Making Weight and Eating and Not Working Out, like, Moral Issues.  I am also aware, that for lots of people, making Weight and Eating and Not Working Out a kind of Moral Issue is Motivating. 

For me, it is the opposite of motivating.

And thus: To me, they are reasons.

I began gym-going and exercising near the end of high school.  I was toned and fit and in great condition, physically.  The first time I gained a lot of weight was my sophomore year in college.  (The BK-Three-Times-A-Day and the 'Bar None Runs' to the vending machine caught up with me.) 

I lost that weight between senior year and the following year.  By working out and having a Paid-Attention-To diet.

The next time I gained a lot of weight was in grad school.  Or, rather, the year after grad school, when I was working full time and doing my thesis.  (Chicken Cheese Steak dinners [pre-veggie days!] and too little sleep and absolutely NO exercise.)

I lost that weight after a couple years, I think.  Maybe not all of it.

Then, I went on a vacation to Italy, France and England.  In the way that often happens to me, I had an epiphany there, thing upon thing, converged to bring me some kind of new awareness.  Seeing the women of Europe, even those in the country of my people, was sobering and eye-opening. 

I lost the rest of the weight and then some, maybe 6 years ago.

And then, my mom died.  And I had two kids. 

And here I am.

Each time that I've gained weight, it has been due--in total, really--to a stressful situation which seems to [pulverize] knock out my Paying Attention to what I'm eating and my Consistent, if not moderate exercise.  I eat with abandon and I literally don't exercise. Like, at all.  Or, if I do, it is negligible.  Negligible! 

So, I don't really know what to make of that. (Are you all, 'Maybe next time figure it out BEFORE you hit publish?)

I have spent a lot of time thinking about how inconsistent I am.  I have berated myself, I think, for continually stopping and starting.  At the very least, I have wished that my range had a top and a bottom that were, you know, maybe TEN pounds apart, instead of THIRTY.

And yet.

In my cycles that wax and wane, I easily overlook the times that I've 'Waxed on Exercise and Paying Attention to Eating' and 'Waned on Not Exercising and Shoving My Face,' in favor of feeling and living in the frustration of having to 'do it all over again.'

Does that make sense?

I've been in great shape in my lifetime.  I mean, great shape.  More than once. (I'm not just talking about weight.) And for me (and I'm ONLY speaking for me, trust,) it doesn't take a whole lot of painful sacrifice to get where I want to be.  I remember the last time that I was Waxing on Exercise and Paying Attention to Eating, a coworker asked me 'what I was doing.'  I told her that I was just exercising regularly and watching what I ate.  'Oh, I don't want to hear about that,' she said.

I clearly remember thinking that there is no terrible sacrifice for me when I'm doing the things that will get me to my goal.  It just (for me! ONLY ME!) takes a consistent, day-in-day-out performance. 

That's where I get hung up.  In case you're new here or are the Biggest Skimmer Ever.

But why don't I look at it through a new viewfinder?  Like, why don't I think that I've done this before and so...I know how to do it?  I know what to do.  My body is strong and it remembers.  It wants to remember.  Why don't I think, in the morning, that each day is like a bead on an abacus, that could move me toward or away from my goal?  So, each day, all day, I've only got to deal with, you know, that day? 

I think I'll try it.

I want to lose the weight.

I don't like the way I look right now but I don't disgust myself.  I have no self-loathing for the way I look, even if I don't accept or embrace it.  If you know what I'm saying.  I don't feel like a bad person or a failure for getting myself here.  I'm not proselytizing the new religion of *fitness.*  I'm not making excuses for why I've gained the weight.  I'm not lying to myself about the effort that will be necessary to take it off and keep it off.

I'm not wanting to be perfect.  I don't think I'm going to be super happy or that all my problems will go away.  I don't think it's all about looks. Although, I prefer my body a smaller size and I want to fit into my old clothes.

I'm not judging, though, if you want to lose weight, or lost weight, in order to feel more attractive.  Or, if you think it's more attractive to be slim.  Or, even, if you think it's the *only* attractive and that *everyone* should be slim.  I'm not judging if self-reproach or making physical activity/food intake a kind of moral issue is motivating to you.  I'm really and truly not. 

I'm not judging you, even if you're judging me. 

I'm a firm believer in the Whatever Works for You school of thought.  There's room enough for all of us on this great big ball of dirt on which we all reside.  Even if some of us are chubby.

I want to lose the 30 pounds. 

Maybe, possibly, hopefully, for the last time.

OMFGPICTURESOMGHOLYHELL

Okay. So, holy hell, I took pictures. I figured that it would help me to SEE what's what. And boy, HOWDY, did it. It was a little bit of a shock to me to see what's been going on under the skin, if you will.  It is good motivation for me to press a little in the exercise/eating better department.

There's a funny joke to be had about the horrible kid smudges on the mirror.

.

 

And the kid clothes in the hallway behind me.

.

But I'm just MESMERIZED over here.

Ahem.

Surreal.

It is surreal to me, looking back at the previous posts here and the entries in my food/exercise log from before.  The latest one I had was from before I was pregnant with my daughter. And then the entries just stop.  I had lost a significant amount of weight and was maintaining when I got pregnant.  I was super sick and didn't gain much and so, didn't have much to lose that first time. 

But she was a tough infant and I slowly gained after the year + of deprivation and when I got pregnant with my son, I was maybe 10lbs above where I wanted to be.  I gained an average/typical amount of weight with him (25 lbs, I think) but I didn't lose that much and so now, here I am, trying to rid myself of baby weight plus just regular weight.

Also surreal to me, though, is my SHAPE.  It is not at all what it was when I gained weight before.  My middle is still, DISTENDED almost.  I still look pregnant four months later.  I don't know when that goes away...I'm assuming it does, more or less, with diet and exercise, yes?  I mean, of all the women I know, the only ones who look pregnant are the ones who are, you know PREGNANT (or just post-partum.)

Sigh.

Here are my measurements.  I am up so much from the entries of 2/06 that it is a little weird.

Bi: 11in
Chest 40.25
Waist: 39.5
Gut: 41.5
Hips: 40.5
Butt: 42.5
Thighs: 24.75
Knees: 18.25
Calves: 14.5

Whoa.

I'll post pictures if I can get around to taking them. OMG.

Let's All Play 'Reason or Excuse?'

Is it only me who feels like The Sleep Dep makes a person want to eat all day long, without pausing to like, LIVE?

I've been up since 4am with my [tiny little monstah] girl (who is SNOOZING right now, btw) and I've been chomping my way through the day.  I'm trying to stick to good things like fruit, nuts, grains, etc. and so far so good--no cookies or chocolate. 

Yet.

To me, it is really the absolute WORST thing about new motherhood, The Fucking Sleep Dep.

*sigh*

Is it just me?

The Workout Deets

Okay, so the workout right now looks like this (I record this in my journal--more on that later):

Monday: 35 min. walk, Work-out 1

[I'll put the sample of how I'm breaking up the body parts here, just to show you.]

Bicep curls (bis)

Incline flyes (chest)

Shoulder press (shoulders)

Triceps kickbacks (tris)

Bent dumbbell rows (back)

Squats (legs)

Step-ups (legs)

Calf raises (calves)

(I'll do 3 sets of the whole thing, circuit style, with 8 lb. dumbbells, working up to 10s for smaller parts and more for larger parts.) (If you're new to the whole process and need to know what the fuck I'm talking about feel free to leave a comment or email and I'll answer you.)

Tuesday: 35 min walk, Abs (I also break the abs up and do one of three ab work outs--upper, lower and obliques in each one)

Wednesday: 35 min walk, Work out 2 (which has a different exercise for each part, etc.)

And so on.

I think it looks more demanding than it actually is, but again--it's all relative.  If you've never worked out with free weights before it could seem overwhelming.  It's not meant to.

I write and number the work outs in the back of the journal, just so I can flip to see what I'm supposed to do for that day.  I find that having more than one set work out at a time keeps it interesting and works different muscles.  It would work too, though, to just do this one work out for a while and then switch.  It's all about your comfort level.

Comments or questions welcome, of course.

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Stats for June 08:

Weight: 143 (whoops)

Days Worked Out: 16

Days Missed: 14

Comments: Started back in earnest on 6/9.  I'm up two pounds.  Some of which may be water but some of which, I'm sure, is chocolate and peanut butter.  Hmm.  My inclination (urge) was not to weigh myself this morning.  If I had avoided and stayed a little less conscious, I wouldn't have the same kind of feeling that I have right now, which is something like, 'WTF, New Girl? Let's buckle down, baby.'  We'll see how long that lasts....