Best. Week. EVER.

5k/Susan G Komen day came at the end of a crazy, amazing week for me. (Cra-mazing?)  The week started with me finding out that one of my work calls had won a contest that got me an official NFL jersey.  I'm not a football fan, as anyone knows, but the timing was perfect and it was all around exciting to have won.

Why was the timing perfect?  Because I had my interview for the Senior Claims Adjuster promotion on Wednesday and I knocked it out of the park -- and got the job!!  The amount of happy dancing that went on was ridiculous -- not to mention the vanity shots!  (The dress is what I was wearing when I found out, not for the interview.)  Right after I found out, I was going down one of our infamous long hallways and my director was coming towards me.  I still wasn't able to tell anyone, but of course he knew.  So I got into one of the little nooks in the wall where only he would see me and did what I can only describe as a Muppet themed silent screaming happy dance.  He was falling out laughing, it was just such a great moment.

But because of the lead up to this and the subsequent celebrating, there was not much in the way of training.  I went to the gym on Tuesday night and that was it.  Wednesday was the night of the interview and I went to WW and found out that I got the 1 pound off that I had just put back on (and frankly will probably be there again this week) and then had a great dinner with Scott and my cousin Mary Margaret who happened to be in town.  At this point, I was already getting feedback that the interview went well and I was pretty sure I was going to get the job, but of course you don't know til you know.  Thursday was the day I found out and there was much indulgence that evening with some of my favorite ladies to celebrate.  And then I didn't want to over-do it last night, so I didn't run then either.  I did do 30 minutes on my new stepper, so I feel like I got a little something in...

And today -- the race!  My husband couldn't be roused, so I had to make the trek down by myself.  I was a bundle of nerves about participating by myself (with 1000's of people, but you know what I mean) and this feeling was just further emphasized when I got there.  As I was driving in I was passing all kinds of pink-clad groups wearing tutus and pink wigs and just generally in good spirits.  I had, obviously, never done anything this size and magnitude and just never really thought about the costumes or just how many people would be there, etc.  Because the amount of people was crazy!  I found the group from my gym, but my awkward feeling continued because I don't really know anyone from my gym.   I don't take classes or work with a trainer or anything like that.  I got there just too late to be in the group picture and even felt weird asking someone to take one for me.  (The shy side of Heather, who knew?)  It was 7:15 and the race didn't start until 8:30.  It just seemed to take forever, but then suddenly it was time and we were corralling towards the corral like cattle.

So many things were going through my head the whole time.  The meaning behind the event and the woman from my gym that I had just met who was in her 5th year of survivorship.  Thinking about how freaking cold I was!  Thinking about how I no longer cared what my time was, I just wanted to be done and say that I was done.  Thinking about women and how freaking amazing we are and how so many have been through so many things and survived so much and how so many have to go through that journey alone.  Thinking that no matter how awkward I was feeling about the whole thing, just proud that I signed up for the thing, showed up for the thing and did the thing.

Anyways, I started the timer on my map my walk app so I could try to track my actual time since I didn't get a chip, but it turned out that wasn't that accurate since we were herded there for a while without starting.  Oh well. Once the crowd started dissipating, I finally got to a bit of a jog and had a decent pace.  It was definitely a combo of walking and running the whole thing.  I just would pick random landmarks and try to make it to one of those before walking.  And then I would pick another random landmark that I would have to start running again.  It was very brisk out.  We ran up Atlantic Avenue for the first half, which means we were blocked from the wind -- but also from the sun.  At the halfway point, we make the turn onto the boardwalk -- into the sun AND the wind.  Yay?  My pace wasn't as good as I had hoped, but I really had let that go.  Sure, my goal was to finish in 40 minutes, but it's not like I haven't broken other goals (see also average loss of 5 lbs per month) -- it is what it is.  I was feeling a bit disappointed but still glad that it was over, when out of seemingly nowhere my BFF Tina was there just as I passed the 3 mile mark cheering me on and taking a video of me coming down the row.  I almost had a hard time staying in stride because I started crying a bit.  I probably would have broken into full out sobbing if I had had the breath.  Thanks BFF, you ALWAYS come through!  Anyways, I pushed through and finished at 46:17.  This is just about 6 minutes faster than the "original" 5k, which means since that time I have gotten my time down by 2 minutes per mile.  And considering how much slacking I've done in the interim and how recently I was even able to run as much as I can, I am frankly pretty pleased by that.  It's true, you really do get better the more you do!

Anyways, it's finally over!  As you see pictured, we had an indulgent breakfast at Baker's Crust -- for the record, I could only eat half that thing -- and tonight Scott and I are headed for celebration at the comedy club and indulgent dinner.  Another note on the pictures -- I am really starting to see some of the changes in myself in pictures.  Especially the post race shot -- I really think this may have been a camera trick, because I do not feel like my legs actually look this good.

The tracking this week?  Not so much.  (Sorry Sherrie!)  I'm allowing myself the indulgence of not tracking again today and then renewing my focus by Monday.  (I'd say tomorrow, but who am I kidding?)

Feeling pretty sassy Thursday night after learning I got the promotion

My small attempt at blinging out 

Neptune with his sexy abs

CJ, one of the trainers at the gym

BFFs

Freaking did it!

Greasy indulgent breakfast -- but note the yogurt instead of hash browns

If you've read this far, you are truly a fan and I appreciate you!  I hope that I am giving you just a little bit of the inspiration that I have found along the way and that I hope to keep finding so I can keep trending in a downward direction.  :)

hugs,

Heather

As usual, I get by with inspiration from my friends

The previous post was part of a series of text messages I had with my friend Anina... And that was in part inspired by my BFAW Stephanie... And there's also... Hmmm, let's just jump in shall we?

My boss says to me that I put myself down too much. Actually most people with ears say this. I know it's true. I try to exude confidence and security but it is a big struggle for me. I recently celebrated the milestone of officially hitting 40 lbs on the WW scale. As I shared this with a friend, she astutely asked if this milestone in some ways would make it harder for me? Well, yes. It does. Because I have about that same amount to go to get to goal. I am literally halfway there. It's hard not to get scared that I'm going to fall back into being me and just gain it all back.
Which lead to the text portion from last night. My BFAW and I have had lots of extra time to walk during the day since we had been blessed to be on a project that gave us a scosh more freedom. We probably got in 2 miles a day for at least two if not three days. Twice what we can normally do. Gave us a lot of time to catch up - including food confession. And that's when I decided - no matter how ugly it is, no matter what I do I am going to track every single thing I eat and drink from now on. Because at least that way I am being accountable. Even if I'm accounting for gaining, I know what I'd did. Here's the quote from me that didn't get uploaded "I did the right things even when I was doing the wrong things."
And being accountable for tracking is making me appreciate activity more. 40 minutes of stepping while watching The Avengers is better than nothing. Any activity is better than none.

I'm going to try working on the outside in. Get my outside close to that Scarlett Johansson aspiration and work on building the confidence to match that.

And I'll keep trying to keep you in the loop here!!

Hugs,

Heather

Catch up with photos

Not a WHOLE going on in Heather's Fat News...  I've recently been taking some bathroom shots at work, so I'm adding them here for posterity.  Thanks everyone for all of the positive feedback on the red dress.  I DO love that dress and just felt AWESOME in it.  The polka dot was actually a blast from the past.  I wore this to BFF Tina's wedding in 2007 and I can finally fit in it again.  I was feeling super sassy in that too, until someone said I looked like Minnie Mouse.  What?!  

Still trying to get ready for the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure.  Finally actually did the correct 5k I mapped out in my neighborhood.  I really need to run more often than twice a week, but I also need to do a lot of things.  One thing at a time.  I recently started writing a blog post about ways to make work outs fun.  The thing that exercise enthusiasts are always preaching about.  I had this crazy idea -- girls' night out bootcamp.  You get together with your girls and work out to earn activity points (or pre-burn calories, whatever your thing is) to go out and party like a rock star.  An added bonus is a little extra tightness to wear your favorite party dress!  A skew tangent version of this would be to plan activity dates with the girls.  One of my best friends at work (BFAW) and I have been going to Mount Trashmore after work and doing a loop.  And of course, my original BFAW inspires me to go for walks at work all the time.  The bottom photo is just a random shot from the USAA walk.

And the middle torn jeans photo?  Well, that was an old pair of jeans that got torn at the thighs from my fat pushing out...  And now they're too big!  I bought a replacement pair one size down at Old Navy this weekend.  They only had one pair my new size in the style I like in the store.  Which turns out to be a blessing, because they're the slip down style that the young people seem so fond of these days.  My old favorite style is no longer being made.  Boo!  Still, SO nice to finally be down a pants size.  Losing 40 pounds and only down two pants sizes since the journey started?!  I mean, that's crazy right?  I think because this time I'm incorporating so much more exercise than I ever did the last time that perhaps there's more muscle there.  But, things are trending in the right direction -- I was finally able to buy 2 pairs of almost knee high boots.  Something that my luscious calves would never have let me do before!

I don't want to over-sell the things are going great position.  I've definitely been sabotaging myself a lot lately.  I mean, just because you can mix vodka with water by using drink mix packs in doesn't mean you should....  To excess, anyway.  There have been a few slip ups with bags of food and tying them on like a feedbag.  Some remembered, some, uh, not.  I have definitely learned that even healthy crunchy food is still a trigger that I CANNOT have around.  I'm just glad that it was healthy so I could minimized some of the shock and horror I felt when it was over.  It will be a while before apple or veggie straws are here again.  

This week I'm going to work on getting back to basics.  Making sure I get at least 2 activity points in a day, minimizing the weeknight drinking and getting back to religiously tracking.  I'm pretty good with tracking, but I've slipped a bit this weekend and I don't want this to become a habit.  

Huh, I guess more to report than I thought.  I'm off to watch the Emmys -- have a great week!

hugs,

Heather

Fat knees means I have a self-esteem problem

It's time for one of my somewhat regular bitching sessions about "being hard on myself."  Usually these sessions are prompted when more than one person makes the comment to me that I am, surprise, being too hard on myself.  And, then I, being who I am, think, "well that sounds like a blog topic."

Because I know that Susan really wants to read about this.  ;-)  (Should I give you a nickname and pretend that I'm talking about someone else?)

So, had a couple of instances of this relatively close together.  One of them was at the crazy party last weekend and then another was with a co-worker.  The co-worker one stemmed from a Facebook photo shoot in which I posted a picture of a dress I tried on with the comment that I liked it but my knees looked bad.  She said I was being too hard on myself.  I really didn't view it this way, I don't like my knees.  Even when I weighed 125 pounds (stupid skinny girl who made bad choices), I didn't like my knees.  I just don't have cute knees.  Is that being hard on myself?  I guess so.  As for the previous one, I don't remember all of it because it was a crazy party but basically she said that I was being too hard on myself and that I was looking good and I should cut it out.

Well.  Here's the more on THAT one. Yes.  I AM looking good.  There I said it.  It's not like I don't walk past reflective surfaces, I know that I look good.  But, I also know that I'm not where I want to be yet.  So therefore I'm only going to keep looking better.  And I don't want to be THAT girl. 

Here's the weird analogy:  my good friend Kiosk is pregnant (yay!) but it took her forever to "pop" and get her baby bump since it's her first baby.  People kept telling her that she didn't look pregnant, she just looked fat.  She's like is this supposed to be some kind of compliment?  This is a baby and I worked my freaking ass off before to NOT be fat before I got pregnant.  To circumvent this, she makes sure that everyone knows that she's pregnant. 

I'm kind of the same way in reverse.  I don't want people to think that I think I don't have weight to lose.  (Yeah, yeah - I shouldn't care what people think.  Go read some other blog, this isn't that kind.) I go to work and out and about and for the most, I try to look my best.  But I do find ways of letting folks know that I'm working on it or whatever.  Does this manifest itself by being "too hard" on myself?  Probably.  I'm working on that.  But it's not going to get but so much better. 

So, here's the thing....  Again.  I DO know that I am looking good.  I also know that I'm going to be looking even better.  I'm excited about the progress and still trying to get there.  I'm reluctant to be over-the-top with my confidence (in person, obviously I don't have as much of a problem here) but I know that my version of that can border on too much self-flagellation.  I'll work on that. 

Oh goody, something else to work on....

hugs,

Heather

I Walk the Line

Today's blog post was brought you to you by a text-versation with a friend.  (Sidebar: in our techy world, why is there no short word for this?)  We were talking about WW.  She went to a meeting after having missed a week.  She had earlier anticipated a "huge" gain and said that she only gained .2.  Given what we have shared about our habits the last few weeks, I said that I never look at these little gains as true gains and really consider them more like maintaining.  She said I was "wise."  (Look, I'm just quoting in the interest of accurate reporting.)  I joked that, yes, I was in fact a fat sage.  And then further went on to say that this didn't stop me from beating myself up about it and wanting to punish myself with potato chips.  She said "shut up" and told me that I'd been looking amazing and that I should be proud.

And I said -- blog topic!  :)

I AM proud of myself.  I DO feel good about what I'm doing.  But just as my negative behaviors and thought patterns are addictive and enticing, the positive ones are too.  I get to feeling good and very proud of what I've done and how far I've come.  And here's the thing -- I'm not a religious person, as anyone knows, but I do understand why "pride" is a sin.  It leads to feelings of imperviousness.  I feel like I can do anything, accomplish anything -- and EAT anything.  And DRINK anything.  And that is the problem.

I can't.

So, I'm cognizant of the line I walk.  I want to be proud of what I've done and how much better I am looking and feeling.  But I also have to be aware that I have a ways to go until I get to my goal. If I am too proud of what I have done, then I lose sight of how much more I have to do.  But I also can't focus too much on that either because then it seems too big and I feel like I can't get there.  I have to maintain a very steady balance of being proud without being arrogant; of awareness of my successes without letting them cloud my judgement. I want to be "good" (ick, I can't find the prior link but you know how I feel about this) but I also want to be able to have fun and not be obsessing over points all the time.  I need to generally be balanced.  Something I have always struggled with.  I don't like the middle.  Billy Joel's "I Go To Extremes" has long been my personal theme song.

I'm not going to find the secret to solving this problem through the confines of writing this blog post.  I know this because it's taken me over an hour to puzzle it out and I'm still not feeling like I'm going to find a conclusion.  Take this away though -- when you see me in person, and you hear me being hard on myself know that I am aware that I am doing it.  Know that I want to stop and "make the voices in my head like me instead" (thank you Pink).  And know that many more of them do now than did before.  But, it's a long way to go because I struggle with liking myself devolving into arrogant overconfident cockiness which leads me to be impetuous and fall off track which leads me to overindulging and being lazy which usually eventually leads me to trying to crawl back out of that hole by exercising more, eating better so I can forgive myself and like myself again which devolves into being arrogant...  You get the idea.  


It turns out my line?  It's a circle.  :)


Ever your one and only,
Heather

The F Word

I'm not sure if I've ever really addressed this, but since it's come up a couple of times this weekend in various forms I thought it might be a good time to write about it.

The F word.  Yes, the one that's really considered dirty -- fat.

At book club on Friday night, one of the ladies asked me why I call my blog Inside Heather's Fat instead of something "more positive" (I'm paraphrasing) like Heather's Getting Fit or something.  The truest answer overall is because of  my original blog, which was titled Inside Heather's Head.  I was just trying to spin off of that.

But that's not really all there is to it.  The word fat and fatness in general means something in our society.  You don't just throw the word out there, anymore than you would a racial epithet.  Or would you?  Because in fact we do.  We call ourselves fat, we call other people fat and if we don't say the word we certainly all but imply it.

Prior to my first serious attempt at Weight Watchers (see the history of this fat), I had a co-worker as me if I were pregnant.  But the best part was when I said no, she asked me if I was sure.  Like I would be THAT pregnant and not know it?  I had to gently explain that no, I was just fat.  As hard as that was, it wasn't even the first time in my adult life someone had asked me if I was pregnant, so at least I had lived through the experience once before.

But this Saturday, the young check-out girl at the Harris Teeter just put it all on the table.  She asked me if I thought I was fat.

I am not making this up.  She was very young and luckily I also have a hearing problem, so I didn't understand what she said at first.  Which actually made the situation a bit worse.  What happened was that we were bringing our stuff to check out.  Scott had to go get something so it was just me and Teenie Bop.  She starts going on and on about how great I look in the color I have on.  She says that her mom is about my size and then she holds her hands kind of far about in a fat but curvy kind of way.  NOT flattering.  Then she starts s l o w l y checking out my purchases and still going on and on with what I think she truly believes is flattery.  She's trying to explain how she thinks her mom would look great and the fact that I'm basically this fat person (she has not dropped the f*bomb yet, but it's coming) and willing to be out in public putting it out there is proof.  (I had on an orange v-neck shirt and a pair of white shorts, this is not ground-breaking fat fashion here.)  She then asks me if I think I'm fat?  I can't hear what she says.  She is getting embarrassed and doesn't want to repeat what she says.  She's giggling and saying "oh, this is too personal."  But then eventually asks me the question again.  Well, I still can't quite hear it and give up and just say yes to whatever she's asking.

That's when I realized, based on whatever she's babbling about now that she asked me if I think I'm fat and I answered yes.

I really would have been more mortified if I didn't have the moral superiority that poor dingbat would be a cashier for the rest of her life. 

It didn't cause me to spiral into depression.  But it certainly made me think about the F word a lot.  The usage of it and especially the usage of it as it applies to me.  And that's the real reason behind why I keep the Fat in my blog title.  I know who I am and I know where I came from.  I could get down to the bottom of my target weight range but I will always be a fat girl.  Because I have to know that.  I have to know that it's possible for me to go back to the same mental traps that got me to be a fat girl on the outside.  Because if I deny that part of myself, then it's just as easy to go back.  It's no different than alcoholism -- I can't forget that I have problem ever.  Every day, every step is a choice to go in a different direction.

But at the end of the day, in the ironic spirit of my nod to AA -- my name is Heather and I am a fat girl.

hugs,
Heather

The Highs and the Lows

Lately things have been on a bit of a high note in Fat World.  I've been progressing and seeing results.  And I'm in the middle of a week that has a many landmines of challenges ahead and it's very risky.  Because this is bound to make itself known on the scale.  And since I'm so new into the onederland, I am knowingly putting this status in jeopardy.  It's a slippery, slippery slope my friends.  Because I'm here where things have been going good.  And I am putting the sabotage knife to my own throat...

Or am I?

Maybe it's the high note, maybe it's the sangria from dinner (yup, counted that thankyouverymuch) or maybe it's wisdom but this feels different than sabotage.  Here are some differences. 

As noted, I tracked the sangria. 
I planned for most of what I was going to eat.  I mean, planned ahead -- I knew where I was going to be going so I planned what to eat and pre-tracked it.  I've even got food planned for Thursday, indulgent evening number two.
I increased my exercise (by again, you know, doing some).
I went for a walk when I came home from indulgent dinner number one this week.
I skipped cake that was being offered as a celebration this week. 

Here's a low note:  Unfortunately I f*ed up the high cake-skipping note by then having one of the dessert sampler shooter things at Carrabba's tonight.  I can't believe I did this because when I looked it up it was 12 points.  12 freaking points!  Ugh!  And this thing was freaking tiny.  SO pissed.  But from this I regain the humility that is so desperately needed at these high moments.  Feeling self-confident for me can quickly lead to arrogance which leads to feelings of being indomitable which quickly leads back to where I was before.

I'm not going back there.

I have over-indulged.  I may gain weight this week because of it.  These are the facts of life.  And how is that going to be?  1 or 2 pounds?  Maybe.

Is that worth a total backslide and feeling like I'm a loser?  Not really.  It's not like I'm going to put back the 30 pounds (I know, right?  Thirty since this blog started - I love that!)  I lost back on.  I'm just going to have to work harder to over-correct.

I'm writing this because I'm on a high note.  I'm not going to stay on a high note.  There's going to be weeks when I'm going to gain .4 and that will start a shame spiral that will take me to the bottom of a Dorito's bag.  I know it and if you read my blog, you know it too.  That's life.  But it's not my whole life.  It's just a low.  And the highs will come!

Saboteur

Feeling a bit bummed and hard on myself.  Thought I'd talk to you about it.

(Before I get too far down the beating myself up on the WWW path, let me acknowledge that, er, biology is in part to blame and it could well be a non-issue in say 5 days or so.  AND this probably has a scosh to do with my spiraling negativity.  But enough of stereotypes and back to my whining...)

I'm still stuck at the line.  Hanging on the verge of the Onederland. I've put myself there in part.  I've overindulged in wine this past weekend.  I'm not exercising as much as I need to.  So, I'm sabotaging myself because I'm close to this line that I'm afraid to cross over.  And how f-ed up is that?  I'm afraid of success.  And the worst part is that I already know this about myself.  I have known this for a long time.  It's part of my girl Peter Pan syndrome.  Here's the spiral.  (If you're a reasonable put together kind of person, you may not be able to follow.  Be thankful that you don't need a therapist, and just move on to either another blog or some other post in this one...)

Once I start being successful with weight loss, that means that I am really going to truly accept that it's my lifestyle now.  I'll have to exercise.  And eat right.  And ask how things are made when I go to restaurants.  And all that crap.  It's the diet* version of being a grown up.  I will have to be responsible for myself and my actions.  Yuck.  I'm just so not a fan of this.  But, that's the reality.  If I am successful at losing weight, then I'm going to have to grow up and be responsible.  I'm deathly afraid that this will mean that I will be boring.  Because I'm already pretty close to boring now. 

*Note on the usage of the word "diet":  Tonight in our WW meeting (aka Fat Church as anyone who ever read my old blog knows), we had a good discussion about how WW is not a diet -- it's a lifestyle.  In my less cranky-pants moments, I not only agree with this but I embrace it and preach it.  But here's the fact:  it takes a long time and a lot of responsibility to get to where that feels more like a valid truth and less like it's a "diet."  Because the lifestyle that got me here is one that is about embracing excess.  Anything less than big is going to feel like a diet for a long time.  It's why I believe so much in Weight Watchers, but also what makes it so hard for me.  The key thing that I have learned in each journey of WW is that the greatest key is moderation.  You really can have anything you want but you either have to have it in moderation or if you ARE going to go "all out" you must recognize that that is a splurge and "pay" for it.  It's a struggle for me because moderation and I get along about as well as Republicans and Democrats.  Oil and water.  Chocolate and beer.  So, if I can't be moderate, then I can't have it.  To the untrained eye, this gives the appearance of being a "diet."  I'm not indulging in things that are considered off limits.  But it's not that I really consider those things to be off limits.  For example, a co-worker brought in Krispy Kreme donuts the other morning.  Did I want one?  Hell yes.  But I calculated the points and it was 6 points.  I just didn't want it bad enough to spend 6 points on a donut.  I knew that it may lead to another donut and then that's at least twice as much.  (Sometimes two of something is more than double the points -- the magic of WW math.)  So, I didn't have one.  Does this mean I'm not going to have a Krispy Kreme donut ever again?  That I have denied ever wanting or needing a donut again?  Not bloody likely.  But I need to know that when these challenges come my way that I can decide not to indulge.

I recognize that my journey is about recognizing limitations and accepting them.

And accepting myself.  Even when I fail.  Like when I hang over the stupid Onederland waiting to fall.   And obtaining the wisdom to know that falling is not proactive.  Leaping is. 

In my head this ended on a pithier words of wisdom note, but I can't quite get that last line right and now I just want to go to bed.  :)

hugs,
Heather

Boot camp wrap up

I apologize for the anti-climactic ending to the boot camp story...  I guess when I'm done, I'm done.

I missed the second to last class, because it was pouring ass rain and I'm just not that good of a person.  Or tough, really.  Apparently, they went running in the woods.  As it got dark.  Carrying a giant log.  Through a swamp.  In knee high water. 

I think if you've met me, you can understand why that was not going to be for me.  I don't even like to go to the grocery store without make-up on.  I'm not much for undoing the pretty.  I'm certainly no "beast." 

But I did really enjoy the experience.  There was an awakening of sorts for wanting to improve myself and keep going back on track to find myself.  I felt strong and, well, sexy.  Yeah, I said it.  I did.  I felt like I could do anything I wanted.  It was empowering.

I hope that the feeling continues...

And I don't know that the chapter on Cross Fit is closed completely.  I just didn't want to do the sign up under duress after it was over.

The last class was our fitness test and last measurements.  Overall, I did not lose much in the way of weight or inches, but my overall fitness improved.  Especially with squats, which were a particular weakness for me.  I doubled the amount I can do in a minute.  I felt best about that, for some reason.  My run time on the 800 meter actually went down, but...  I actually "ran" the whole thing.  Or my version of running anyways.  Since I didn't run it all the first time and I can walk faster than I can run (I know, right?) I didn't do as well the second time but felt better because I never stopped running.

So, that's that.

Currently I'm in full-on new Weight Watchers newbie mode.  I'm obsessing over points and planning.  I am annoying myself, really, but I can't stop.  It's changed a lot since I did it a few years ago and I think the changes are really beneficial.  I especially like the free fruit!

Wait, what?  Wine is not fruit...?

;-)
    Heather

post script

  Now it's 10:49 pm and I'm back home.  I've had several cries.  I'm not going to be able to explain the nervous breakdown to you, though I may find myself trying.  I am not an athlete.  I don't have an athlete's brain.  When I'm letting people down who are counting on me to pull through, it's emotionally crippling.  And then the hamster in my brain gets to be spinning, spinning, spinning and I can't get him to stop.  Because now its not just this set back, it's every single setback that has ever occurred and created this person who is over 200 lbs and can't figure out how to get her act together once and for all.  Or has it figured out, but doesn't have that inner thing to make it happen.  Same end result.

I'm just tired of this mental game.  I really, really want to just be this person who can do things and rise above and reach down to the bottom of my soul and push and all that. 

I don't want to be this fat my whole life.  But not because I don't want to be fat.  It's not really about the fat, it's what the fat represents that I want to get rid of.  If I could be 200lbs but be confident and strong and, I don't know, have self-esteem -- well, that would be the ticket, wouldn't it?

You get that, don't you? 

Some of my readers have never really had a weight problem.  Some of you have.  But it's all the same isn't it?  I may poo-poo your desire to lose 5 lbs, but 5 can just as easily be 50 and no matter what it's this number staring at you that you judge yourself for and examine all of your choices and consider the meaning of life. 

This is what made me start putting this journey on the web to begin with.  Or at least why I continued.  Because it's not easy.  You need to know that you are not alone when you try and fail and try and fail and try and fail...  Maybe you don't care that you're not alone?  Then this isn't the blog for you.  Maybe you don't care.  Maybe you believe that your struggle is different.  And that belief is rightly so.  Your struggle IS different.  You know what makes it the same?  It's a struggle.  It is hard to be healthy.  It is hard to get strong.  You face adversity and haters on every corner.  Some of the haters are even disguised as supporters.  It's a tricky game. 

Maybe I won't ever jump on a box.  Maybe I won't ever compete in a triathlon.  Or be able to run a 5k.  But I'm hoping that I keep trying to dabble in these goals.  Because in doing so, I can only get a little stronger, a little more confident and maybe find that self-esteem that I continue to look for.

Whew....  Emotionally exhausted.

love to you all!
Heather

Post Boot Camp post

Sooo, yesterday was the orientation for my Crossfit Boot Camp experience.  I don't think fear begins to describe the emotion that I am having.  Because yesterday was just the orientation.  There wasn't even a "real" work-out, just the fitness test.  Which, by the way, if they were grading, I probably failed.  (Nothing like falling over during squats to really shine, huh?)  But this is why I'm so scared -- that was just the initial test and today I can hardly walk.  I'm actively mentally fighting my inner hater voice that says there's no freaking way I can do this.  The warm-up is a quarter mile run, I could barely do that when I was going to the gym every day.  And they repeatedly said that the fitness test was NOTHING compared to the real work-outs.

What was the fitness test?  All the squats you can do in a minute, all the push-ups you can do in a minute, all the sit-ups in one minute, a broad jump and a timed 800 meter run.  The run almost killed me, especially after the squats.  (At least now I know that's equivalent to half a mile, so I feel pretty good that I at least didn't actually die while doing it.  But then I think -- it's only half a mile and I'm proud I didn't die??)

Their blog mentions a fireman's carry.  Is it even legal to ask someone to carry someone as big as me when there is no actual fire??

And then there is the diet...  They have a really strict caveman diet they expect you to follow, and they're borderline religious about it.  Luckily, BFF Tina has agreed to go on this journey with me and she'll be staying here for the next few weeks so that may make it easier.  Or harder.  It will make it something.  We'll find out on May 11 when it's all over.  

I am going to do the best I can to follow the food program, but giving up milk and dairy products is going to be the hardest part.  Mostly because I'm in total denial about the giving up alcohol part.  There's already one known fall of the wagon because I'm going to Sertoma next weekend and I would honestly rather stay fat forever then not have fun at that.  Sad, but so true. 

Anyways, there's no whining allowed at CrossFit.  But no one ever said I couldn't go on the internet machine and do it here in the privacy of my blog!  :)

If I can lift my arms, I will continue to keep you posted... 

Heather

A New Auld Lang Syne

     Many people know that one of my blog-spirations is the blog created by Ms. Bitchcakes, because she's a former fat girl who fell in love with exercise.  She also has a blog over at Weight Watchers and a recent post got me thinking....

     In this post, she talks about how a simple question from her allergist gave her the foundation for the inspiration to be a runner.  Something she never thought she would be or do and now she is preparing for the 2012 NYC Marathon.  Now, I don't want to be a marathon runner, but I would like to be able to run.  I have always seen this as something that other people do.  I don't run, because I'm not those people.  And I think I look like a dork.  And I have to breathe really hard and I tend to pray for death.  I mean, I don't call it the dreadmill for nothing. 
     But, you see, I am frequently reminded of a simple question that someone asked me and it's one of the driving forces as I get s l o w l y back into my work out routine.  I alluded to it in this post.  I was still working out at the gym at the office.  I had a disappointing work-out because I was using the dreadmill (that was the change in my cardio I was referring to) and felt like I didn't really get it in.  As I was walking out, my now boss was leaving work for the day.  We didn't really know each other, other then the fact that he hung out with the people in my cube quad...  In fact, I know that this conversation made no impression on him because it was one of those weird after-work awkward pleasantries exchange -- you know the kind you do because the only thing you have in common with this person is that you are stuck walking in the exact same direction to your parking lot?  Made further awkward because someone smells like a gym and someone doesn't?  Yeah.  Anyhoo, what he said was "did you have a good work-out Heather?"  And because he didn't know me, I'm POSITIVE that he was probably only expecting some trite answer like "yeah, sure" -- instead of my response, which was "No, frankly, it was a bit disappointing."
     I'm sure I followed it with something along the lines of, anything's better than nothing or whatever.  But the fact that I responded with expressing my disappointment -- I have never forgotten that.  Because that is a feeling that I struggled to get away from when I was "in it to win it" earlier this year and it's a struggle to get away from now. 
     But, the thing is that when gaining and losing weight is your primary hobby -- every stage is familiar.  After New Year's Day, if you blow that -- well you just declare another day New Year's Day and THAT'S the day by gosh that is really going to be the first day of the rest of my life.
     Except it's not.
     Because the first day of the rest of my life started over 38 years ago.  All the rest?  Well, that's just been my life.


     And today is just today.

It was one of those weird stupid a-ha moments this morning.  "Today is just today."  It's not the first day of anything, it's not the last day of anything.  There's nothing that I do today that is going to necessarily be the beginning -- or the end -- of anything.  Today is just today.  And today I just have to do the best job that I can to not feel disappointed by myself and the effort that I give to this progression.  And tomorrow, I'm probably going to have to do that too -- but that's tomorrow.  I'm going to let that work itself out.  Today is just today.  I'm just going to work on today and the things that I can do today. 

    Today, I did get up and go to the gym.  And I did a 5 minute elliptical warm up and then I got on that dreadmill and I manage to do an under 16 minute mile.  Will I do that tomorrow?  Don't know.  Because that's tomorrow's problem.  Today is just today.  Today I did not drink at night after yet another long day.  I did not have the extra cup of coffee I was starting to get a little too dependent on.  I managed to avoid eating a fair amount of crap.  And today, I got on the scale and decided to stop kidding myself.  Today I stared at my weight and realized that I was kiddding myself before.  Because I've been to the gym a few times, I've forgiven myself a whole host of unacceptable behavior and have actually gained 3 pounds (or more) since I started back.  Today, I decided to forgive myself.

And that was the most important decision of all.  Will I be able to make that decision tomorrow?  Will my work out be disappointing?

Don't know.  I'm stil in today.

Heather

Dear Future Heather,

Today, you officially dropped to a size 16.  Sadly, your efforts to make this a federal (or even a state) holiday were not successful -- but nonetheless, it was a big day to you.  You posted this update on your Facebook page (just that you dropped a size, not the giant number) yesterday, but you didn't really believe it until today.  Second day in a row made it official, I guess.  As you read this, Future Heather, you may not fully remember how exciting it felt to be able to get back into that size.  But here's how it felt:  it felt like the promise of everything I've started working towards was starting to fall into place. 

But this day, Future Heather, it came with a setback.  Do you remember that?  Do  you remember striding proudly in for your second workout of the day and...  Well, let's not the time color our memory -- truth is, you did not want to go back for the second workout.  You tried 17 different excuses to rationalize not going after work. But then, you walked out behind some women talking about how their WW meeting was shrinking in size and how they hope that the second half of their session goes better than the first.  And you, in your weird wisdom, decided to take this as a sign of the push you needed to do the right thing.  Unfortunately, it wasn't a great workout.  The dreadmill came true to its name again and showed its fangs.  You got so winded you couldn't finish even your 30 minute walk.  You finished your workout on the bike, which at this stage you feel is giving up.  Technically, it was 35 minutes of cardio, but you felt like it was a setback.  (It wasn't, you know -- even these little steps brought you to wherever you are today, Future Heather.) 

I think about you a lot.  I know it's weird, because I haven't met you.  But, I think about what you'll look like and what you'll be able to do.  I think about how much fun you must have shopping a lot.  I wonder what kind of activity you've started enjoying.  I'm really anxious to know if you ever defeat that dreadmill dragon and are able to really, truly run. 

I'm wishing you all the best Future Heather -- thank you for burgeoning in me and turning me into you!

Love,
Past Heather

Fat brain

Here's a side-effect of working out that doesn't get mentioned a lot, I bet.  Even though physically I am still quite overweight, I don't really feel like a "fat girl" a lot of the time.  I have to remind myself that there are people who still see me this way.

But, "fat girls" don't do 5ks.  Or get up at 5 a.m. to exercise.  Or even attempt to count calories. 

So, I can't be a fat girl, because I do all of those things. 

But, it's funny, because the mirror and my pants -- they still think I'm a fat girl.  They reflect this person back to me, and I think, "who is THIS broad?  She looks like a fat girl, that can't be me."

I frequently battle with myself because I'm doing this thing backwards from how I did it before.  I'm exercising more first and trying to get my diet in order second.  (The folks at the Body Challenge definitely think I should be doing both, but this is what is currently sustainable for the long haul.)  But, the biggest difference is that when I did the diet first last time, it took a loooooong time before I stopped thinking I was a fat girl.  This time, it's only taken a month-ish.  It's probably the 5k, but maybe it's also just the working out most every day.  All I know is that it's a good feeling.  Despite the ups and downs (and you know this is just one of the most recent examples), I know I don't have a fat brain anymore.  I cannot imagine going back to being a full-time couch potato again, and I frequently am trying to incrementally add more ways to exercise into my life and my plan.  I'm still somewhat stuck, but it's a goal that I know I will achieve. 

I'm going to sign off now, but let me again tell you...  I do NOT love exercise yet.  I still dread going to the gym, it is still so very hard to do the work-out.  Do not let all of this glowy posting fool you.  Exercise is hard, hard, hard when your body is overweight and it doesn't get super-easy just because you do it a lot.  But, it does become a habit AND it is noticeable when you do it, even when you don't see the number on the scale change.  This is the subtle nuance...  I don't feel better that I did it, I feel better because I got it done.  Does that make sense? 

It will when you start, I promise!  Fat back guarantee if I'm wrong!!  :)

hugs,

Heather

Cheating on myself

Every weight loss blog has to have one good confessional from time to time, right?

It has not been a great week progress-wise.  Workout on Monday morning felt half-assed.  I think I was suffering from post-race arrogance and tried to do too much too soon.  Not sure, but it was not a stellar performance. 

Monday afternoon I was feeling cruddy and left work early and it carried into Tuesday.  (TMI alert -- turned out to be the period from hell.)  No workout Tuesday.  Wednesday I had a good workout but then my "diet" went to hell.

Let's talk about that for a moment.  Honestly, I'm not on a diet, which is part of the reason I don't talk about that part of it so much here.  Currently, I try to watch what I eat and I have a tracker on my phone that I track the calories of everything I eat -- mostly.  Only this week my tracking went to hell, mostly.  The other thing I do is not drink during the week.  Well, that's the plan.  But Wednesday was such a glorious day and it was my first full day on my earlier schedule, so I was filled with the excitement of getting off work when the sun was out and Scott suggested margaritas on a patio somewhere -- who can resist??  Who has two thumbs and loves a salt-rimmed sour tequila treat??  Of course, by the time we got there, it was a bit too late to drink outside because it was chilly again, but the margarita cannot be denied.  And that continued into too much vino with our neighbors.

Which led to me oversleeping for my workout today.  Ugh. 

Still, I made it tonight and got under a 16 minute mile, which is huge for me.  I tracked all of my food today.  I had a good confessional call with Julia, which purges my soul and helps me talk myself out of the beating myself up cycle.  I mean, look at my first post where I didn't want to talk to people about my weight loss efforts, where I was baby-stepping.  I really have come a long, long way.  I have to keep focusing on that and not get in a cycle of beating myself up.  It's a slippery slope, but talking to you invisible, imagined blog audience really does help a lot. 

Big hugs my imaginary friends!

Heather

Other things to work on

In addition to needing to work on losing half of myself, I need to figure out a way to regain the self-esteem I lost when I got this way.

I feel so much more awkward in social situations than I used to and it's because of how uncomfortable I am with how I look. And the frustrating thing is that I've looked like this for a while now, but it's like I woke up one morning... It's the Emperor's New Clothes! Everyone knew I was fat but me and now I think that they've been pointing and laughing at me this whole time for being fat and not realizing it.

Well, not that I didn't know I was fat, that's ridiculous. Of course, I knew. But, I didn't care for a while because I was just a little fat. Ha! Anyway, I continued to be "okay" with being a "little fat" because I didn't want to deal with what I needed to do to not be. So, a little fat turned into a little bit more fat and then a little bit more fat and then the next thing I knew, I was standing next to fat people and they were asking me to commiserate with them. And at first I was like, why does she think I can relate to that? And then, I don't know, I found a mirror. And realized how much I have been avoiding mirrors in order to keep up my delusion that I was just a little fat.

So.

On the one hand, now that I have this attitude of trying (TRYING!) to do something about it, I feel like I should be allowed to wear some kind of sign that says "Hey, I'm working on it!" You know, so people know.

Because the thing is that people who have never been fat have no FUCKING idea how hard it is. None. They just think why doesn't she just eat right and exercise? Is she actually going to eat that? Why is she taking the elevator - no wonder she's fat? And I know this because times in my life when I have not been this ginormous I have thought those same things. And even, mortifyingly enough, preached them to people. Because, much like the blog authors of the blog's I'm following, I truly, truly believed that if I could do it and get it to work for ME, then anyone could be successful. And that was that re-found self-esteem.

What people who have never been fat (we've got to come up with a name for them other than skinny bitches) don't realize is that even when you get that drive to eat right and exercise, it's still hard as hell. You don't just run around the block and lose 10 pounds. And you definitely don't run around the block and suddenly have everyone stop looking at you as a fat person -- because they don't know you just ran around the block! Because again, it's not like you can wear a sign.

And would you want to? That's a whole other Pandora's box. Because I'm working out at work, I'm forced to see people who know me and see that I'm working out. And you see that look that they give you of support and encouragement. Or that's how it's meant, I am guessing, but to me it just feels condescending as fuck. Hey, look at you -- you realized you were fat! Good for you! Sweat it out girl! Because this flies directly in the face of me not wanting to talk about it. And I know that I don't want to talk about it, because I fear failure. And if I don't tell you that I'm doing these things, then I don't have to talk about my progress and how it's going and how much did I work out and oh, am I going to EAT that?!

All of these spiralling thoughts are what got me out of my cozy bed at 7:15 on a Saturday morning.

Basically, my fat woke me up. To berate me for being fat. And I'm just so over it. So, I'm going to keep walking around the block and trying to do better and forgive myself for my indulgences last night and just keep holding on. And try to find that self-esteem along the way.