Felt Like Writing

I have been contemplating writing for a while...  not really worried if people read it or not anymore.  I think I was in this 'must be read for self worth' rut.  So, I kinda disappeared for a while.
I got lost in life... new marriage, new dog, new home, new car, newish job...  a lot of new.

I started working from home full time and had to wrap my arms around not being around people as much, and being around my kitchen 24/7.  When you do not have that water cooler outlet, an extra snack seems far more appealing.

I have had to get used to my husband.  It seems odd to say, being that we have been together for almost 20 years.  It is just different now that we are married.  Mostly different because in my mind there are things husbands and wives are supposed to do...  I have slowly adjusted and come the realization that life isn't really like that.  I am cool with it now.  My husband rocks.

I invited a longtime friend to move in with us.  (No, it isn't some creepy sex thing).  He just needed to get outta dodge, and I said come home.  I don't regret it for a moment.  I think it made me appreciate and love my husband all the more, because he totally supported it.  My friend is in a totally new zone now:  new job, new friends, and lives nearby.

I moved, which meant I switched fitness routines (new gym, new trainer)...  I am still not happy with how it is now.  I really loved what I was doing before.  I feel a bit stuck in big-box gymville...  But, it is what I can afford, and what I am making the best of. 

I got a puppy.  Annie is the sweetest, cutest, most manipulative cuddle junkie I have ever met.  She makes all the other pet owners swoon at the dog park.  She belongs in magazines.  But, for now, she is my work at home co-worker, and friend.  She cuddles me while I type.  She tells me when I need a break and when to walk it off.  I love her.

I also put on some weight..  I was great for the wedding (9-10-11), and then took a pause..  I decided to eat whatever as opposed to my restricted regimen.  As a result, I am now 252lbs....  about 30 lbs  up. This took a full year to gain, but it is still not o.k.  I don't feel good.  My joints hurt because my fitness level has really remained the same, except my joints are taking the pounding..  So, this is where this blog comes in.  I need to get myself refocused and cut the shit.

I have a goal.. I have a wedding to attend on December 16.  That is 7 weeks away.  I would like to drop 15 lbs.  I think if I keep to eating and moving, I have a good shot.  I will write here when I am stressed or when I start to doubt.  Here I go... again...

A Good Week

I admit, my latest posts have been pretty depressing.  I have been motivated to write about the things that really upset me or get me ticked off.  I'm not appologizing, but I am just sayin'.  So today, I want to list the good stuff in my pretty good week.

1.  My boss was out of the office this week, which meant I could get work done in peace.
2.  I had a good week of eating.
3.  I tried a new fitness class, and liked it. 
4.  The weather was nice, so I got to go for a walk with my Sweetheart.
5.  I was asked to apply for a new job.  I polished off my resume, and it looks really good.
6.  I saw the movie, Paul.  It was goofy and very enjoyable.
7.  I slept a bit more this week, thanks to adjusting to the time zone.
8.  My Sweetheart and I had a great meeting with the priest who will marry us.
9.  I haven't been biting my nails.
10.  I have been in touch with old friends.

So, now, if everything goes tits up, I can go back to this list and keep positive.

Selling Myself a Used Car

I have a visual of a cheap, leisure suited man..  sweaty palms..  spinach in teeth..  smarmy..  trying to sell me a bill of sale that just doesn't seem right.  Except it isn't a Car this time:  it is my fitness plan; it is my healthy food choices.

While I know I have done the research, planned all the best food choices in my cupboard, I still try to sell myself on that extra piece of cheese, one more dinner out with heavy gravies and sugary syrups, and staying home to watch reruns of House instead of running.  Why do I play such mind games with my health?  I am slowly.. no wait, not so slowly, killing myself.  It is insane. 

I try to knowingly kill myself because the evidence isn't immediate.  It is all smoke and mirrors.
I really worry about my ability to keep self control.  I like to think that I can do it and I am stronger and smarter and prepared.  I spend lots of $$ on fitness trainers and nutritional counselors to build that support mechanism... yet still I am weak.  I am one french fry away from a total food meltdown. 

May today bring some strength!

I Feel Robbed

I have made no secrets thus far about my mother's complete lack of happiness about my impending nuptials.  It is what it is, and there is nothing I can say or do about it to change her.  However, it is getting to me.  I feel robbed of my happiness.  There are other people who have gone out of their way to be happy for me, and yet, it all doesn't matter because she isn't happy for me.  I can't voice this enough.

Yesterday, I extended an Olive Branch to her and we went together to try some Wedding Dresses.  This is a double whammy since I was combining wedding and body image issues in a single task.  I just want to feel beautiful on this day. My mother had NOTHING nice to say.  The best compliment I got was, 'well, I don't hate this one'.  I feel pretty deflated.  She wants to go with me to another Bridal Shop.  I would rather get a limb amputated, sans anesthesia.

Today, all I had to do was look through books of invitations.  It was a simple task that Sweetheart and I needed to do.  I sulked the whole way through.  I wanted nothing to do with the whole process.  It was all expensive, or gaudy, or excessive.  I couldn't find a single thing that inspired me.  I soon realized that I was stealing the joy from my fiance, but acting just like my mother did.  I lost it.  I cried the whole way home.  My wedding hasn't even happened and I already feel like it is completely ruined. 

I am overly stressed out.  None of this is going to bode well for my mental and physical well being.  All I wanted to do was leave and stuff my face.  Luckily, when I suggested we get ice cream, Sweetheart said, "Is this where I am supposed to be the asshole and say 'no ice cream?' "  Love that man.  I got a coffee instead and felt a bit better. I am going to a late Mass.  Maybe Jesus can clear my head and my heart.

Hating the Fatties

I never thought I would do this, but I am starting to find myself to be over critical of people who are fat.

Example:
I have a consultant working for me and I find myself constantly checking her work.  Why?  Cause she gives me the lazy vibe.  Yup, she's fat.  She sighs a lot when she shuffles through the office.  She takes extra breaks because she smokes.  Her clothes don't fit well, so she looks disheveled.  She is constantly snacking at her cube, or getting up to get snacks or drinks.  Productivity appears lower than other staff. 

While all the above is true, she also does the workload that has been presented to her.  I have not been dissatisfied with any of the results she has provided.  This being said, I keep thinking that she could be doing more.  Really, she just pisses me off because I used to be her and could easily be her again.  I want her to do better, because if she can't, maybe I can't either.  Self doubt is a real Bitch.  I wish there was something I could do that was somewhat professional, where I could give her the hint of moving and eating less.  I know there isn't, cause how self-righteous is that?!  But, I still want to.

Example:
I took a training class this week with one other person.  She was slow.  Yup.  She was fat.  But she wasn't that far off from my current size.  Still, I was not interested in waiting for her to catch up.  I really didn't want to work on her success.  I just wanted to do my thing.  The point of a group training is to inspire one another.  I wasn't having it.  Instead, I kept thinking this chic is just too slow for me.  I hated the class, as a result.  I ruined my own workout, which normally gives me such joy.  Well, maybe not joy, but it lets me burn off all my excess asshole anger.

So, here's to trying to lose my own bullshit.  Today, I am hateful.  What an ass am I....

Working Out My Self-Anger

So, I am pretty pissed at myself now that I see how much I have been slacking.  I need to get my head out of my ass.  To counter this, I have been using this new found anger to kick my own ass.  As Awesome trainer Debbie is no longer at my gym, I tried a semi-private group class.  I left totally bored.  I thought that it was supposed to keep some personalization to it.  Otherwise, it is the same as walking into a class offered at a big-box gym.  I hated it.  Luckily, I did not pay for it.  I also think I am really pissed at the owner who let Debbie go, so I am finding reasons not to like it.  I am not ready to give up the goat with the place yet, but we shall see.

So, I called Debbie.  I have been dying for weeks to train with her.  As she is awesome, she said she was working out for herself and said I could come..  How cool?!?  I am training with my super cool trainer...  TOTALLY MOTIVATING.  We worked hard.  I hurt this morning and I couldn't be more happy about it.  I felt pushed and worked to that 'oh shit' point so many times and so many sets.  And we laughed.  And we cursed.

I know this sounds funny, but if I can't easily bitch through the hard parts of a workout, it isn't fun.  I never (well very seldom) say can't or won't.  I do the reps I am told at the weight I am told.  But I will curse through it.  More cursing = Better Workout

Hopefully, I can stay pissed enough to blow through some serious burn over the next few weeks. 

Reading a book: Intuitive Eating by Evelyn Tribole.  I bought it about a year ago and blew threw it.  I don't remember anything I read, so I am giving it a go again.  Anyone else read it?

Is My Bottom Below Death?

I read this saying in a post.  Some people don't hit their rock bottom.  Their rock bottom is below death.  As in, they just keep slipping till they just die.  Is this me?

Can I survive one hour of exercise a day so I can avoid 24 hours of dead?

Can I eat just what I planned, and not snack on disease and disappointment?

What the heck man?  I keep making promises to myself that I am terrified I won't be capable of keeping.
Why is can't I get over my own bullshit.  What is this compulsion of mine to EAT EAT EAT!!

I am not really a double post daily kind of gal, but I am just feeling raw.  I need an outlet.  Not sure where I am going with it yet.