Weigh In Day

I realized today that I have never spoken about my weigh in days, so here is what we shall call the first! As I've mentioned before, we have a clinic in my office building. This is where I do my weigh ins. There's also a scale at the gym, but I avoid that so I can keep consistency in my weigh ins.

So this morning I went, thinking that I was going to have a gain. Over the weekend I hadn't been that strict with my food and I definitely didn't workout. WARNING: Guy readers cover your eyes here. Today was also Day 1 of THOSE times, so... imagine my surprise when I stepped on that scale and it said I'd lost 1.5 pounds! YES!

I don't know if it was the work I put in Monday, Tuesday, and this morning, but rejoice! I've managed to stay between 1400 - 1600 calories the past three days; and I went to Zumba Monday morning, lifted Tuesday night, and went to spin this morning. I haven't had a soda in two days, which is huge for me. Usually I'll have one purely out of habit. I'll purchase it, I'll crack it open, and after that first delicious sip I decide I really didn't want it. Yet, I still drink the whole thing. That's why I think my "addiction" to soda is much more mental than physical.

Any road - I have filled myself with a lot of hope these last few days, and I really feel like I can accomplish this goal. Dig it.

Yay... I Think?

Tonight was a mash-up of pitiful and excellent.

Tonight was the first Tuesday night in a long time that I went to the gym to lift. I'm trying to do a regiment of MWF: cardio in the AM, TTh: lifting in the PM, Sa: more cardio or more lifting, or both. Su: REST! Tonight - surprisingly without any kind of internal argument - I went for my first night of lifting. It was a chest and bicep night. No joke, I was there for 15 minutes and had done 3 chest exercises, 1 tricep exercise, and 1 ab exercise.

And I didn't know what else to do beyond that.

Normally I don't care what other people are thinking of me... or what I'm thinking they're thinking of me. Tonight I kind of did. I felt like I was just walking around the gym, looking like a deer in headlights. I felt like all the buff people were watching me walk around and thinking, "What the hell is she doing here?" or "She doesn't even know what she's doing!", etc, etc ad nauseum.

I have a friend who owns her own gym/personal trainer business, is a certified nutritionist and cave woman. I ask her a LOT of questions... but lately I feel really bad about doing so. I mean, that's her livlihood, savvy? I'm starting to feel like I'm abusing our friendship with my quest for knowledge. So I'm trying to search stuff out on my own on the big 'ol interwebs. It's not going so well so far. I know it's best to do a push/pull split, but I don't know what exercises are for each muscle group. I don't know how many to do of each - more in the sense of number of exercises, not sets and reps. I don't know what to eat before lifting... there's just so much knowledge to glean, I feel my head might explode before I figure it all out!

BUT (now on to the excellent part): I WENT TO THE GYM AGAIN! That is huge! Like I mentioned earlier, there wasn't even any internal argument about going like there usually is. Could the habit be breaking? Could I be on my way to (eventual) Bufftown? Gods, I hope so.

I'm Back! ...

I'm back in the saddle again! (Thank you, Aerosmith!) Yup, I feel like I'm back. I woke up and went to work this morning (side note: I typically have Mondays off work and then do 10 hour days the rest of the week. In order to keep my regiment of MWF am cardio, I need to work 2-2.5 hours Monday mornings, and I haven't been doing that the last few weeks), then I went to Zumba. I LOVE ZUMBA!

Okay, let's back up a little bit. I realize that I haven't really given too much of a back story for my weight loss goals. I'm not sure about others, but I don't remember my weight being a part of my thought process until my first midwife appointment after discovering that I was pregnant with my daughter back around February of 2005. I was talking about this with my friend a few weeks ago, and it actually surprised me. No matter how hard I try, I truly cannot remember a time before that first midwife appointment where weight and/or exercise entered my mind. That first weigh in had me at 218 lbs. To date, that is the lightest I've been. I only gained 15 lbs with that pregnancy. All I wanted to eat was turkey tacos, fresh fruit and vegetables, and real fruit lime popsicles. I did the same thing when I was pregnant with my son. I don't remember my base weight, but I only gained 15 lbs. I wanted the same things, but add potato chips to that. I was a GSTL (front-end manager) at Target for both pregnancies, and I think that helped with my 15 lb. gain. I was walking about 3 miles per day, 6 days per week. Then, in November of 2006 I changed companies and got a desk job at the home offices for Regis Corporation. While it is a great company to work for, I believe it was the beginning of the end for me.

I had never had an office job prior to Regis. So going from 3 mile walks each shift to sitting on me arse for 8-10 hours per day... yeah, you can put 2 and 2 together. sigh.

ANYWAY - I started becoming really aware of my health in August of 2007. Around that time my office built a clinic inside it. They offer health coaching/personal training sessions. Last September, as some of my readers may remember, they held a Biggest Loser type competition where I really kicked myself into gear (lost 22 lbs!) and I have been going to the gym and tracking my food every day (mostly) since. Every day is still a battle in the war. Sometimes I win, other times I lose. But I always get back up the next day and at least start out well.

This week I plan to hit the gym 6 days out of 7 like I used to. Wish me luck! 

And Again... and Again... and Again...

So here we are again. 9:45 on Sunday night. Today was a bad day for food, again. I honestly don't know what I am doing anymore. It seems like, for whatever reason (that I haven't figured out yet), I keep screwing myself over. I weigh in on Wednesday mornings, usually. I'll go in, I'll step on that scale, and I'll be elated that I've lost a pound or two! Then, to reward and celebrate myself, what do I do? Oh, I go and eat three fun-sized Snickers. Or I have a can of soda, or four pieces of oatmeal toast with whipped butter and strawberry jam... I mean, really? Yes. Let's work REALLY hard for a few days, have some great results, and then totally smash it into the ground. What the hell is going on??? This is so frustrating. It's not like I don't WANT to lose weight. I've been jumping lifestyle labels lately, too. I was considering going back to my ovo-lacto vegetarianism. Then I proclaimed my jump to pescetarianism. Then I thought about being just a plain old carnivore. That last one really turned me off, though. I'm totally grossed out by most red meat and pork, lately. It's hard to figure out how to exist, sometimes. I mean; you read so much online, you read so much in books, you hear so many things rumor... I really want to try to live by listening to my body. But obviously, my body is a bit confused at times. I've fallen and I can't seem to get up. I'm trying to pick myself back up, but damn if it isn't a battle all in it's own. I struggle with wanting the weight to jump off at the speed of light, but it doesn't happen like that. It's a long, arduous war filled with many, many smaller battles. On a positive note to pick up this melancholy post: Last week I DID make it to all three of my morning classes at the gym, which hasn't happened since the Biggest Loser competition at my work the end of last year. I plan to repeat that performance for this last week of April, then pick it up a bit in May, adding three lifting days and a little more cardio. I'll just keep trying again... and again... and again...