Procrastination

I just read this somewhere else.  I think it had to do with budgeting or something, but as the author stated, it’s certainly a multipurpose issue.

When you commit to something — exercising more, eating better, saving money — it is challenging to stick with it.  Whole forests have been felled in the name of books meant to help us stick to self-improvement promises.

Every time I want to procrastinate about something, I shall now say to myself, “You’re killing a tree.”

I’m not necessarily the biggest tree-hugger that ever lived, but guilt?  Guilt, I can do.

Hint Taken

I haven’t walked or done any real form of exercise in over a month. As much as I was looking forward to the weather cooling down, it only was a few weeks of walking outside before daylight became my enemy and as is often so easy, I lost motivation. Luckily I’ve only put 1 or 2 pounds back on, but I miss the feeling of getting off my ass and doing something.

Enter yesterday and a new foreclosure for us to clean out. To my surprise and wonder, included in the stuff the former tenant left behind was this:

Note: As much as I'd like to admit that's me, it's not

I’m taking this surprise windfall as a hint it’s high time to get my ass off the couch once again.

Taking note

Okay, so I’ve not been the most dedicated of people to my fitness regimen in the last … well okay – ever.

I have been keeping with some regular attempts in the last couple of weeks though, so go me.  I haven’t gone nuts, hasn’t been daily or even every other day.  I have, though, tried for a solid 80% of the time to pay better attention to the food and drink that I’ve been putting in my body, drinking more water, not eating as late (well, maybe I should say “as close to when I go to sleep”) – along those lines.

It also has to be noted though that I’ve also taken to sucking down nigh a bottle of wine per week for each of those weeks.  Granted, it’s some great wine, but still – a bit out of my norm for alcohol consumption since, uh, freshman year of college?

So imagine my giggle today to see that I’d dropped 8 pounds in the last 2 weeks between doctor’s visits?

Apparently I need more wine, more chair dancing, less stress, good food, and more FUN in my life.  Who knew?  🙂  It’s a small victory, but today, it felt bloody fantastic.  Not only was a due a little victory, but it was an affirmation of just trying to be better to myself, to actually care for myself, and seeing that pay off.

Go me.  🙂

 

Neglected Nikes

I’m actually nervous to check and see when my last post here was. So I’m skipping it. Yesterday I finally managed to post on my own blog, describing how the past month flew by without the benefit of my taking time to appreciate it and of course the diet/exercise combo was the first casualty of the time-suck.

Why is that? I’m not sure if it’s that way for everybody, but with me, if there is an interruption in my routine or God forbid more than one, something in my tiny brain breaks and all of a sudden weeks have gone by without an entry in the food journal and nary a sneaker has been laced up. With of course the irony being that when things get stressful there’s not much better you can do for yourself than exercise. File that under D is for Duh, you Doofus-assed Dummy. 

I spent the entire Summer walking the neighborhood, sweating my ass off and salivating for the days of cooler weather. I enjoyed the walks enough then to know that they’d become downright blissful in the crispy, golden October afternoons. Then October finally arrived, all hell broke loose and the number of walks I managed was…ONE. Yes, things were crazy. Yes, there were many days I honestly couldn’t fit one in. But truthfully would it have been that hard to take just even a half hour for myself and just do it? Come on. Because – full disclosure – you know I watched more than one TV show during the month.

I’m not looking over the fact that my weight has stayed the same and not crept back up – I’m very, very thankful for that, because it damn sure hasn’t been due to any effort on my part. But since today marks the beginning of a new month, I feel like it’s a good time to recommit and make a promise to myself : no matter what else is happening around me, it can all wait for a little while. I know full well it’ll be there when I get back from my soul-refreshing, brain-cleansing, life-affirming WALK.

You Gotta Have Goals

So, what are your workout goals?

1. Not being embarrassed to work out in my actual workout clothes.
2. Not being out of breath by the time I get in place/set up/ready to work out.
3. To actually work out?
4. Not requiring 12 days of rest in between workouts.
5. Not requiring a doctor’s visit, ice, heat, bandage, splint, ultrasound, or physical therapy after a workout.
6. To whine a collective total of not more than 1 hour per workout.
7. To actually work out more than once?
8. To stop swearing at the television screen.
9. To really consider the value of a swear jar before I truly commit to #8.
10. To make this list sound at least slightly more funny than true.

I know:  It’s scary how high I’m aiming here.  I know they all warn against being unrealistic, but I wasn’t sure how to go lower and still have them count as goals!

 

Tool for Accountability

For the next twelve weeks (starting this coming Sunday) I’m using Fitbook to hold myself accountable to my fitness and nutrition goals. Writing it down, and having visual indicators for my success, have worked for me in the past. I’m moving away from tracking on the computer (though I remain a fan of SparkPeople) since it has gotten to be too much of a hassle to be so very dead-on specific with every little thing.

So instead of tracking at a 100-foot level, I’m going to use Fitbook to track at a 1,000 foot level. Food items, but not precise calorie counts. Workouts, but not exact calories burned. Overall goals broken down into weekly progress checks. It’s big enough to have room for all the tracking items that are important to me, but small enough to be portable and fit into my purse. At first impression, it seems to be a handy little book.

We shall see if it effects my motivation and discipline in any way. If it does, it’s worth its weight in gold. If it doesn’t, well, I’ll keep on keepin’ on. Hopefully I’ll kick myself in the ass hard enough to see some sort of improvement by Christmas.

I Feel Bad About My Body

I’ll bet that’s not a title that inspires confidence about this being a cheerful, upbeat post. Well, it ain’t.

I guess, more accurately, that I feel dubious about my body. The thing is, if I hadn’t gotten into such good shape last fall, I wouldn’t be so upset about the way things are now. When I got back from teacher training in October, I was shaved of most fat, and I’d picked up a huge amount of muscle tone in my legs, my arms, my butt, and my abs. (Climbing up a steep trail on the edge of a canyon twice a day, along with hours of yoga every morning and afternoon, will do that to you.) All my clothes were loose. I felt light and quick and strong, and I was over the moon with how I looked and felt.

But of course I couldn’t maintain that. I had other things to do than keeping up my body and doing yoga. I had to work, I had to commute, I had to cook, I had to deal with life. Quickly I got soggy, and even as I fought back feebly with halfhearted aerobics and tough yoga that I really didn’t want to do, I found myself caving more and more to the siren songs of California Tortilla and Chili’s instead of the good food I’d gotten in the habit of making for myself at home. I started buying chips at the grocery store again.

Running Through

In all my obsessive reading about exercise and nutrition (like most of us I think, when I get into something I really get into it) I’ve come across a lot of information regarding plateaus. One thing that caught my attention is the fact that supposedly your first big one usually occurs around the point when you’ve lost roughly 10% of your body weight.

Guess where I am.

Logically I knew this was coming; emotionally it still pretty much sucks all flavors of ass. Figuring my vacation week into it, for almost three weeks now I’ve been fluctuating between 147 and 149. And while I know a two-pound range isn’t something to lose my mind over, it’s still hellishly frustrating, especially when I’m still doing all the things I’ve been doing all along that have met with success. I read these stories about people who get stuck for MONTHS ON END and it makes my blood run cold (how many calories does blood running cold burn I wonder?).

I’ve also been reading (obviously) up on ways to break through the plateau and I’m ready to deploy some stuff. Increasing and changing up the exercise. Increasing water consumption and decreasing salt intake. Playing around with the daily calorie consumption. It all makes sense and this is why I’m not panicking (yet).

The first idea is adding some running into my walks. While I hate it with the heat of a thousand suns, I’m pretty sure it’s a good idea. And I love the idea of it – the health and beauty benefits, the endorphin high, the self-satisfied and condescending tone you’re able to take when talking about how you “just got back from a run,” or you’re “looking forward to a good run later,” or any line where you can casually add the word “run” into it. My father-in-law runs five miles every morning and has for years. He’s in his mid-sixties and in very good shape for his age or any age. Well yeah but he also reads the Bible every morning too, so it’s probably not best to compare. So far I can’t claim to have actually “run,” but I’m working on it. In the meantime it’s more of a walk + jog = wog type thing. I plan to wog again tonight and weather permitting, quite a few more times over the next week, hopefully progressing into more legitimate actual running soon. Just writing that hurts a little.

But hey nobody said this was supposed to be easy, right? If it was, this blog wouldn’t exist and that would be sad. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to break on through to the other side of this little obstacle. Bring on the sports bras and shin splints.

Penance

Since my good-feeling 5k race in mid-July, I’ve run precisely four times.  Including last night.  I have been a suckish bastard.

Now, I’ve done more exercise than that – heavy pack-mule labor at work – several 10+ mile bike rides, both with Boy (somewhat leisurely) and by myself (I pushed myself fairly hard) – climbing the 5-story stairs to the water slides last weekend over and over and over – etc.  But running?  No.  Considering that I’m trying hard to work up to a running goal, that’s not good.

But I have plenty of time.  The half-marathon that is the “end goal” isn’t until April.  I have time to be a fuckup on occasion.  But it’s not helped if I’m doing vacation-eating at the same time – which is precisely what I’ve been doing.

School has started, so I have to get myself re-focused into a different routine again.  I can’t get up and go running in the mornings anymore – the park doesn’t open until 6, and Boy needs to be up and about by 6:30.  I suppose I could get up at 5 or earlier and run around my neighborhood, but there is that slightly increased chance of getting run over or, possibly, shot as a Peeping Tom or something crazy like that.  And if the hills in the park are bad, the hills in my neighborhood are even more nutso.  I’m not sure I’m quite ready for that level of challenge quite yet.

So I’m trying to re-acclimate myself to running after work, or possibly later in the evening.  It’s too bad – early morning workouts are best for me, because I tend to be a morning person.  By afternoon, I’m already feeling kinda run down and looking for reasons to avoid working out (and with a family at home, those reasons usually aren’t hard to find).  If I stop on my way home from work, I’m prolonging my workday.  Once I get home, though, getting me to leave again and go work out or run or whatever is crazy hard.  Even if it is cooler at 8 than at 6.

Yesterday’s run was in a bad time of day for me, and yes it was probably 10 degrees hotter than I’ve been used to with my morning runs.  But that’s still no excuse for me turning in my first over-40-minute time for a 3.5 mile run since June.  The reason is that I’ve been a suckass slacker.  And that part has got to change.

I will now do penance by forcing myself not to suck.  And wow, sometimes that’s hard!

Post Vacation Report

Baskin Robbins’ double scoop of chocolate chip in a regular cone.
Nachos and Southwestern Egg rolls from Chili’s.
Chocolate & strawberry sundae in a waffle cone from an old-fashioned ice cream shop that serves real Hershey’s ice cream still.
Pizza and mounds of antipasto from Angelo’s.
Wild berry smoothie from McDonald’s.
Filet o’ fish & fries from McDonald’s.
Another Baskin Robbins trip.
Favorite pasta salad from Ruby Tuesday’s salad bar.
Burgers. Mac & cheese. Hell, even some beer – woowoo!

Let’s put it this way: I was NOT looking forward to getting on the scale this past Monday morning. Because like all best laid plans, or at least mine, the ONE thing I wanted to do for keeping vigilent while on vacation – bring my scale – I forgot to do. And while I did manage to get in some form of activity every day – swimming, walking, a six-hour back-to-school shopping marathon – I was purdy darn nervous at how much CRAP I’d consumed over the course of the week.

I’d hit the two-month mark Saturday, so I know what the pattern has been anyway. A little weight comes off, I fluctuate back up a half pound or so, stay the same for a few days, then a little more comes off. It’s been quite a SLOW (but steady I guess) process. So I couldn’t fathom the damage I’d done going so far off the rails as far as crazy food, not enough water and no calorie tracking.

But! I got on the scale like a brave little soldier and was shocked. I weighed exactly the same as what it was the day I left – 149.8. I had to step off and step back on a few times to convince myself. I know it’s shallow to be this happy over something as trivial as this, but seriously? I can’t help it. I finally feel like some of the work and sweat and more work is starting to pay off. I’m excited.