Monday, January 24, 2011

Holy tough day at...

the gym, Batman!!

I did it! I started the C25K program this morning. I started in spite of the rain. I started in spite of the cold. I started in spite of the lack of ANY hot water to take a shower to help me wake up. (I guess cold water helps me wake up more than hot anyhow!) I started in spite of my demon ass telling me, "eat a couple Eggos with peanut butter and bananas and lay down on the couch to watch Comedy Central!"

This morning, I hauled my ass out of bed and was at my trainer's gym at 8:00 a.m. I USED to be a morning person, but lately, I've been wanting to sleep later and later and later. I think it probably has something to do with staying up at night later and later and later. I've got to get back on my normal schedule, but that's not priority #1 right now.

I had a full hour of weight training with my trainer at her gym, then I drove across the street to Gold's and hit the treadmill. Considering that it's been several months since I managed to do more than a half hour or so of cardio in one shot, I was terrified....but I went. I was trying (yeah, I know "trying" is a 4 letter word) to do the longer distance, 6 week version of the C25K program. It seems that there are several.

For Week 1 - Day 1, my instructions were to:

* walk "briskly" for 1 mile...then...
* run 2 minutes until reaching 3.5 miles...then...
* walk for 1 mile

I managed to:

* walk "briskly" (if 3.3 mph is "briskly) for 1 mile...then...
* run (more like lumber at 4.5 mph) for 2 minutes (in 30 second bursts) every 0.5 miles until I reached 2.5 miles...


I collapsed for about 10 minutes.


I took an hour long "BodyFlow" class. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the Gold's Gym "Group X" classes, BodyFlow is a combination of taichi, yoga, and pilates.


I went home and ate the most massive salad ever with some of my trainer's yummy "unfried" chicken strips cut up on it.


It's everything I can do to summon the energy to type this post.


I'm hoping my husband will want to drive me back to the gym. (He committed to starting the C25K program today too!) I don't think my arms have the strength to steer. If we go, I will knock out at least another mile on the treadmill.

Judging by how much my EVERYTHING hurts right now, I can tell that this is going to be a long, tough, but VERY rewarding program.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

I'm starting the...

C25K (Couch to 5K) training program tomorrow. While the normal program runs for about 9 weeks, I found one that's only 6 weeks. I'm going to try to do a combination of the two. The shorter program seems to put more mileage on you...the longer one starts with you jogging more...faster and sooner. Considering that I've realized that I can do just about ANYTHING for a couple minutes at a time, I'm going to push along with the shorter distances and move my ass a little faster. Why? Because the idea of walking/jogging/running/dying on a treadmill for upwards of an hour and a half a day is abhorrent to me!

I'm enlisting my husband to keep me company at the gym. I've told my friends that I'm doing this. I've told complete strangers on that I'm doing this. I want to be able to RUN when I go on my birthday cruise! I also desperately want less of my ass to be hanging out of my bathing suit. This program's going to help me accomplish both goals and I'm seeking out anyone and everyone to help me stay accountable.

Speaking of accountability...I've started emailing my trainer every day with a list of all the food I've shoved down my gullet. She's having some sort of contest and, technically, only wants us to email her when we do NOT screw up and eat things like chocolate bars and tortilla chips...but I'm breaking the rules and telling her about EVERYTHING I eat. It's the honor system, I know...and I guess I could lie and not tell her about the things that I should have stayed away from....but, dammit, she's tricky. I know she can look at my ass and tell if I've been eating I might as well preempt her and 'fess up.

Ass, you'd better suck it in. I already admitted scarfing 1/2 of that milk chocolate sea salted caramel bar yesterday. It's going to get beat off you one way or another.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

I only...

ate THREE tortilla chips last night at dinner! Well, three chips and a fajita salad with no cheese, no tortilla "strips", no olives (never understood why a chef would think olives belonged anywhere near Mexican food), and no dressing!

I. Am. Proud.

I know it seems like a small accomplishment, but considering how far off track I've been for the past few months, it wasn't. I wanted those chips so bad I thought I was going to die. But, you know what? I'm still here and feel sooooooo much better about myself for my accomplishment.

Starting Monday, I'm going to be working out with my trainer, Danielle, five times a week. I'm not sure exactly what she's planning for the extra two days, but I am sure it will be PAINFUL and burn massive calories. My birthday is looming. I've got to kick this stuff into high gear!

Hear that, ass? You're getting ready to get kicked....hard.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Monday, January 17, 2011

I'm finally getting...

back on track! I hadn't been tracking my food, or following the plan I laid out for myself, or even blogging about all the ups and downs, but I'm here now and DOING IT ALL! So what if I blew the first weeks of the year? Some lessons are learned the hard way. I'm not going to live in the past. I'm going to live for NOW...and NOW I'm knocking them out of the ballpark. I'm eating right again (if you don't count the bag of Cheetos I scarfed at my son's debate tournament this weekend.) I'm getting more much needed sleep. I'm back to work with my trainer, Danielle, and rapidly regaining the massive amount of strength I lost while I was out of commission with the #@$@! vertigo. Life, for the most part, is pretty darn good.

It's amazing how things fall into place when I get up off my ass and DO what I know I need to do. It reminds me so much of what I learned at fat camp. While I was there, I consistently lost between 3 and 5 pounds a week. I think that was a pretty darn good percentage for someone my size. (I could be a LOT heavier, you know?) There were some other people there that didn't hit the same numbers. Invariably, they were the people that "tweaked" the program...a skipped workout extra spoon of salad dressing there...and so on. They always had some sort of excuse about slow metabolism or whatever. I've used all the same excuses and know them much too well...but, as I said then and repeat now: IT WORKS IF YOU WORK IT.

So, that's what I'm trying to do. In order to meet my primary goal, I have to lose an average of nearly 5 pounds a week (yes, I KNOW it's a LOT - but it's also very much within the realm of possibility - I'm already down 2 in the past 2 days!) between now and my birthday. I won't beat myself up emotionally if I don't get there BY my birthday, because I know I will get there...and soon. Regardless, I'm getting stronger and more fit every day and that's more important than the number on the scale.

Ass, you only THOUGHT you had me under the barrel. You were mistaken.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Well, THAT didn't...

work at all. I made the mistake of using everyone else's arbitrary "new life" start point as my own. I made the stupid "resolutions" at the end of the calendar year instead of saving them for my birthday like I've pretty much always done.

Unfortunately for my ego (and the size of my ass)...I set myself up for an epic failure from the get-go. Me trying to put my stalled weight loss on a RESTART while my in-laws are still visiting is like trying to teach my dogs to wipe their bottoms with toilet paper instead of licking them clean. It doesn't work. I've tried the former and discussed the latter at length with the dogs. The dogs just continue to look at me in glee or dismay depending on their doggy moods.

By 1:00 in the afternoon on New Year's Day, we HAD to go out to eat because we were running errands and Grandpa's blood sugar was low. (If watching someone give themselves insulin shots doesn't put the fear of God into you about your weight, NOTHING will.) I had no choice but to go with them to lunch. Well, I guess I could have tucked and rolled out of the moving vehicle when the decision was made, but that would have probably been an overreaction. I guess I could have ordered a glass of water and stealthily eaten the protein bar I had packed in my purse, but with all the outside influences at play, I caved. It could have been worse. I could have ordered the steak sandwich and fries that my ass wanted, but I didn't. I ordered a grilled chicken (I think they grilled it in a vat of oil??) salad with no croutons and no cheese and ranch salad dressing on the side. I used less than a tablespoon of dressing. I left feeling somewhat victorious for "tweaking" my resolutions to fit the circumstances.

Then we had to go to dinner. And then breakfast the next day...and so on. This festival of food consumption culminated last night at Olive Garden where, by this point, I felt like such a total failure for not sticking to my resolution to eat at home that I ate everything in sight...including, but not limited to a breadstick, three bowls of salad (with dressing and croutons)...and an order of chicken picatta with a side of cheese ravioli in a ridiculously creamy sauce. I was so full I nearly puked in the car on the way home and I've been up since about 4 a.m. with a horrific headache. The kicker is: I don't even really LIKE Olive Garden.

What's nice now, though, is the idea of eating out again right now repulses me. All I want to do is take my Synthroid with a giant glass of water on a nice empty stomach and go back to bed for about an hour. I'll make myself an egg white omlete when I wake up again...maybe have one of those DELICIOUS honey crisp apples too. Have you tried those? Soooooo yummy. Then, I'll hit the gym, help the inlaws load of the car because they're heading out today, and, perhaps, continue my "let's look at new sofas" shopping expidition with my hubby - or not - the last thing I really need is a MORE comfortable place to sit and turn into a pile of gelatinous goo.

Right now, I feel like a living example of the road to hell being paved with good intentions. At least it's an interesting journey.