Weeks like this one are a reminder to me about how everything I do takes a conscious decision. A concerted effort.
That being unconscious, or refusing to make conscious decisions, really puts off the inevitable. Which is having to go back to making conscious decisions.
I spend many, many weeks in a year on some sort of an exercise and food plan. It gets redundant. It gets boring. It gets predictible. It gets old. I won't lie. It takes work to find new variations of healthy foods and to find new recipes and to cook and to plan it out. Very often, I find myself in an eating rut. Then sometimes, like this week, I eat my way through it and most of those foods are not on any kind of a plan that someone who is training for anything would eat. And the worst part is, I do this to my children. Because they eat what I eat. I send them messages that this is ok.
And I watch the calories go past my lips and as I'm watching that ticker go up (because I know how many calories each thing I am eating is) the numbers go up fast, like the numbers on an odometer spinning wildly and I don't put the brakes on.
And while I'm doing all that, of course I don't work out. Because we're busy! How can I fit working out into a busy travel schedule?! I mean, no one does that! It's impossible! (sarcasm.)
The gentle reminder about my consciousness or rather, unconcsiousness, comes a few days later when I step on the scale and the news is not good. I am reminded that I have to make a conscious decision just to do the small things, to put on my workout gear, to substitute a lower calorie hotdog instead of the full-fat kind, to plan my travel meals and snacks and to simply find the time to work out. That it's not impossible. But I have to be conscious.
Now I have to backtrack. All the hard work I have done has to be redone. All the miles I've logged have to be re-racked. All the calories I've burned have to be re-burned. That's the unfortunate part.
But, it's a small price to pay for a "gentle" reminder, right? Because there's nothing like a number on a scale to remind you of where you could go if you're not careful and I take the news with mixed feelings. I am scared of where I'm headed if I don't stop. I just plain feel gross and big, all those same feelings I used to just eat my way through long ago, but I am relieved a little that I am conscious enough to know now that I can catch it early. But, it resurrects all that bitterness inside me, the bitterness around the fact that no I cannot eat everything I want anytime I want to and yes, I will pay for it later. That's just how my body works. I hate that, I have always hated that and I will always hate that. Most times I just get over it and move on, but today, there it is! Waving its hands in my face! Lingering.
This is a cycle of ups and downs. The weight-loss journey never really does end. It just goes in a different direction. Of course, this reminder means it could certainly put me back at the beginning if I don't stop now. And I don't want to be back there. I don't ever want to be back there. I was so unhappy back there. That just wasn't me.
I'm not the give-up type. But sometimes I really, really want to. Even now, almost at maintenance, the journey doesn't get much easier. But the hard is what makes it good, right? It's what makes the ending so much sweeter. Now that's an ironic adjective.
Well, the alarm's ringing now. It's time to wake up and break the cycle. I've been unconscious long enough. I made a conscious effort to pack my stuff and put my bathing suit on and I made a conscious effort to eat a healthy breakfast. I have about a dozen more conscious decisions to make before I go to bed tonight (like lunch, dinner, snacks, dessert -- or no dessert-- planning for tomorrow, and food shopping) so wish me luck mkay?
Monday
Unconscious
Friday
Obsession. (Scroll down for Fat Ticker Friday and contest)
I have an addictive personality. When I am into something, I obsess over it. Completely and utterly drench myself in it. Whatever it is. And all I do is salivate over the next time I get to do whatever it is I am obsessed with, or eat whatever it is I am obsessed with. It is exhausting and all-consuming and I don't know how to stop it.
It is so bad that when I just went to type in my blog address, I typed -- by accident (or not?) --the word "obsession" up there in the little address bar. And when I looked at my e-mail, I saw 10% off everything on scale. And had to do a double-take. SALE! IT SAYS SALE! NOT SCALE!
Many times, the object of my obsession is innocent.
When my husband finally learned to play Canasta (some would call this an old person's card game - but it is not, it is genius!), all I could think of was the next time we would play and what my strategies might be. Gosh there's a ton of laundry to do, but Ooh, the kids will be napping around 1, we can play then! It would be like the cartoon, with my husband playing the part of Spike, the big dog, and me playing the part of that tiny dog, jumping over Spike repeatedly, saying over and over in that overeager voice What should we do next, Spike? Whatdowedonext? Can we playcardsSpike?Whencanweplaycards!?
And eventually and inevitably, his obsession would end before mine and he would have to let me down easy by telling me he doesn't really want to play anymore and then I would be disappointed and then I would find a new obsession. But every single time, I wouldn't have to find one. It would find me. And sometimes that obsession would be not so innocent.
Right now, I am obsessed with losing weight. I do not think it is the innocent kind either. I must ask myself 187 times a day, "I wonder if I lost any weight this week. Do I feel like I lost weight this week?"
And if I am feeling particularly large, I don't just think, "Oh well maybe next time." I think things like, "How did I get this way?!" and "Why why why can't you just lose this!" and I get angry, and bitter, and pissed off, and tired. I feel like Rainman and I feel like hitting myself over the head repeatedly saying Why why why why why! Charlie Babbit Charlie Babbit Charlie Babbit!
And I want to give up. But that's just the thing. I can't give up because I will feel worse. It would be like a wash then repeat with no end in sight. But if I keep going, I struggle with the mere thought and possibility of doing all that work and seeing no results. What if I am making all of these sacrifices and am ultimately doomed for failure?
I have thrown out all of my littler-sized jeans because I thought that if I fit that size again, I will buy new ones. However, I have kept one pair and I try them on every day thinking maybe today is the day. But every time I try them on I realize it is not, and I feel bad about myself again.
I look in the mirror and think I don't look that bad! I look good today! And then a picture surfaces of myself, say, at my son's birthday party, and I look like a gigantic whale who has beached themselves at the park. And I get knocked down a few pegs.
Why do I torture myself in this way? I have not found the answer to this yet. I even tell myself every day, don't try on those pants yet, silly! But then I picture them sitting in my closet and I think but what if?
I am obsessed. There is no doubt in my mind that this is probably what psychologists would call an unhealthy obsession. But, is this an unhealthy obsession that will actually keep me from my goals? Or is this an unhealthy obsession that will actually propel me, for the last time, into the results I have been obsessing over since I gained those first stubborn pounds during my first pregnancy? (I have already lost the extra pounds I gained with the second pregnancy.) So how can I turn this into a healthy obsession?
Last night, I was so angry about the whole picture that is eating well, losing weight, working out, that I went to bed early to "sleep it off". I don't want to be this angry at myself. I don't want to think about the skinny people who get pregnant and are back to size 0 by the time they get to their 6 week doctor appointment. I don't want to meet new people and have them think that this is who I am. And when I lose the babyphat, they say, Wow! You lost a lot of weight! But really, it's not that I lost weight, it's that I lost the babyweight and I am back to my normal self. And I don't want to be the person that people secretly whisper about, wow she really packed it on when she got pregnant!
I actually get angry at everything. Even my genetics. I actually get mad at my metabolism. Why are you so slow!
So this is my struggle right now. I want my quest for weightloss to be happy and uplifting and I want to look at my children and be happy about my body, whatever size it may be, and think that it did wondrous things in bearing them, and be proud of it and know that its size, in the grand scheme of things really is temporary. And that really, I am an athlete who plays softball and volleyball and racquetball and I will be that person again, (or rather, is still that person! That person didn't go anywhere, did she?)
I also feel bad that those of you who read this blog have pretty much read only about my neverending quest for weightloss lately. It is because I am obsessed! It is all I think about and write about! I'm sorry.
Well, now I am rambling. I guess the only answer is, is just to keep doing this, keep going, even with the pitfalls of self-consciousness. I just wish I had less of an internal struggle and more of an outward perseverance. I wish I had more confidence. I wish I could tell that inner voice SHUT UP ALREADY!
You're right, no one said this would be easy. But my brain is starting to hurt.
Monday
My boobs are toast
It is not uncommon for me to sit in this black recliner that we nicknamed "Fred" for hours at a time. Not watching tv. Not stuffing my pie hole with Cheetos. But nursing. For. E. Ver. I used to hate this chair. I inherited it from my husband's single days. I have grown to love it.
I was going to post pictures of Poops' party - which was so much fun - but it is almost 9 o'clock and all I have been doing since 6:30 is feeding Mini. He is beside himself today because we are getting teeth. Yes, teeth already!! I guess it's not already, he is 4 1/2 months old now and Poops had his full set in before he was a year old. I was wondering why Mini slept until almost 9 this morning (straight since 8 the night before!) and took extra long naps all day and then had a small fever this afternoon and then screamed bloody murder for about an hour around dinnertime. I peeked in at his little gums during one of his scream-a-thons and saw another little white nugget poking through, so now there are two! He screamed until I gave him those wonderful miracle Humphrey's teething pellets and he nursed a little longer then fell asleep a minute later. That stuff is magic. I didn't dare wake him up since it was the first time he had been calm, so there I was, stuck in the chair. Really having to pee. But he woke up about 20 minutes later, I got to get up for a second, only to return to Fred to nurse until, oh just about 10 minutes ago.
Pain.
But he is out like a light now.
I'm starving. I am going to eat one of my little Body For Life low-calorie Myoplex bars for my 6th meal then turn in so I can get up at the buttcrack of dawn and work out before husband goes to work. Tomorrow is Tuesday's Tips, so if you have any, come back tomorrow and share them with all of us!
Tuesday
