People who know me know I used to work out a lot. One good friend (Tammy, I won't mention your name) calls me the work out queen. She may have been right before but lately, not so much. I used to work out daily with a friend at a gym close to my house. Then my husband moved us to another county and the drive in the metro Atlanta traffic was too much so I stopped going. The club options here were sparse at best and I couldn't find a gym I felt comfortable with. I did end up at a Y, once it finally opened. I started back into a routine but being the stand-offish woman I am, I hadn't really made any friends there and for me, working out is better, easier and more fun with friends. Needless to say, I stopped doing what I enjoyed. Eventually I started up again, sporadically but at least I was doing something. Eventually another gym opened and I started going to it, though I wasn't really making friends. I'm just not good at that, I guess.
Life got in the way and I found other things to do with my time and then the $h!t hit the fan and life through two lousy curve balls and any thought or interest in exercise went out the window.
It's taken me nine months since the last curve ball to get back on track. It's actually funny because after the first curve ball, it took nine months too and then two months and 15 pounds less later, that second curve ball did me in. It's okay though. I've started tackling things from a different perspective and it seems to be working. Sometimes it's all a matter of mind games.
I had made a plan to start exercising prior to the end of 2010. I'm an excellent planner. I can plan anything to a T. My problem isn't the planning. It's the executing. I'm okay at it if there is an immediate gratification but if the result is long term, I tend to lose patience and stop. It's a psychological block I share with many but still it frustrates me that I'm that way.
I didn't actually 'start' the plan (albeit revised tremendously) until March 1st. I'd normally start something on a Monday but instead I decided to start on the first of a month. Change one to my psychological make up. Well, sort of.
Yes, I had a plan. No, it wasn't totally defined anymore but still, I knew I had to do something at some point. That's sort of a plan, right? The actual push that started me was my mirror. You know how people who have lost 100 or more pounds say they had a turning point, an ah-ha moment, an epiphany? I'm not sure but I think I had one (even though I only wanted to lose about 30 lbs but still worthy of an epiphany in my book).
I looked in the mirror one day, my pants fitting tighter than I'd like and a shirt pulled down low to cover my uncomfortableness. I've never been one to show off my figure but hiding it to the degree I felt I was was even pushing it for me. I looked in the mirror and thought, "I don't look that bad." Then I realized that's what people who have lost control of their weight, lost control of their health, must say. "I don't look that bad." And it freaked me out.
Truthfully, no, I don't look that bad. I'm not into the double digits of size. For many, my desire to lose weight is laughable. I get that. It's not about what others see or really, what the scale or number of my size is. It's about how I feel about me. How I feel physically. How I feel emotionally. How my health is. It's about my psychological make up and what I've done to myself, outside circumstances aside, to become what I am today. And really, I finally realized I don't really like what I've become. It's simply not me.
So on March 1st, I quietly started making changes to myself. My first change was to not tell anyone I was making changes. I've found if I speak of my goals, I psych myself out in some way to not follow them and end up looking like the boy who cried wolf, except more womanly. Instead, I kept my mouth shut for a change (which is never easy for an Italian woman, trust me) and did it. I stopped eating sugar and refined carbs. No breads, no pasta, no packaged foods. No fruits. I went with a close version of the South Beach Diet because it's about eating healthy and while I can't have certain things like fruits, I can add them back eventually and be happy. I'm not 'depriving' myself of anything of quality, designed to be good for my body, except the fruit and whole grains. It's temporary.
South Beach is designed to cut the sugar addiction from your body in a two week period. I know me and I know that two weeks wasn't going to be enough. My initial goal was to cut it until April 1st and then start adding fruits and whole grains back in. That is still my plan. I thought it would be hard. I thought I'd miss it. I thought I'd be cranky and bitchy and irritable and mean. I thought I'd cheat. I most always cheat on things like this.
I. Have. Not. Cheated. Once. Not. Once.
I'm on day 24 and I haven't had any cravings for any sugars. I miss bread a little but not enough to make it worth cheating. I'm not sure what I did but I've convinced myself that when I'm ready, I will add the bread back in slowing so this isn't a forever thing and I can do it. It's worked. I don't feel deprived. Yes, every so often I want to go out to eat and I do. I've had fajitas a few times but don't eat the tortillas. I've watched my family eat mountain sized scoops of ice cream and chips with cheese dip and don't break out in a sweat wanting it, nor do I try to sneak any of it. I'm so freaking proud of myself I can't tell you!
It took a few days before anyone noticed. My husband mentioned something when I wasn't eating rice and I told him. He wasn't shocked because I've done this before but I think it surprised him that I didn't tell him. Normally I'd complain or 'jones' for something but generally, I've been okay.
I've had to figure out my triggers during this time. I've noticed that while I do 'want' certain things at certain times, it's a mental craving, not a physical craving. I've not felt a physical need for sugar. Sometimes I get frustrated, bored, lonely, mad, happy, sad, anxious...then I say, "I deserve a bag of M&M's" but I've realized the trick my mind is playing on me and I don't let it take hold. Progress. Figuring out my triggers has helped. I've been able to work through the emotion without the food (though boredom is sometimes a challenge) and have done well to date.
I didn't start exercising when I gave up the sugar and refined carbs. I didn't want to go full force like I always have because it's always created the crash and burn syndrome for me. Instead I waited two weeks and then I started exercising. First just cardio for 30-45 minutes five days a week because frankly, I'm out of shape. I didn't want to start back to spinning and weights daily because I knew I'd either injure myself or exhaust myself enough to quick. I started increasing the cardio to consistently be 45 minutes and then started adding some easy weightlifting back into my program. Today, for example, I didn't do cardio. I should have but I mixed up my leg routine to be higher weights and my legs are exhausted. I knew I'd be tired and I knew my heart rate would be high and I didn't want to push myself too hard. I plan to at least go for a walk later today.
I'm using my Polar heart rate monitor watch and keeping track of my calorie burn. Last week I set a goal to burn 200-400 more calories a day but I didn't reach it. It was a tough goal. I met it one day and didn't feel that normal rush of adrenaline afterward. I just felt tired and took that as a single that maybe it was too much. Instead I'm planning to add a little more calorie burn daily next week.
I also had no intention of weighing myself until April 1st. I hadn't weighed since my dad died last summer and knew I'd piled back on the 15 lbs I'd lost since gaining the weight from my mom's death (and maybe more) and honestly, I was afraid the scale would depress me and then I'd give up. Normally I'd be on the scale daily, freaking out with any slight change.
I know I've lost weight. My clothes fit better and I've reduced my bra size. Thank God. BUT...I had a plan to not weigh until April 1st and I couldn't stick to it. I had to know. Not knowing for sure what I weighed when I started, I went off the weight of my last time and figured I'd lost about 12 lbs in 16 or so days. Excellent. I weighed myself two more times and today the scale was higher and I was pissed. I know there are reasons for this...water retention, muscle, etc. etc. etc., yet it still played with my head and I've decided to stick to my original thoughts. It's not about what the scale says. It's about how I feel and how my clothes fit. Since those two are improving, I've got to not let the scale screw with me. Today, I'm working on that thought process and controlling it.
I don't know how long I'll continue this. I'd like to stick to my new way of eating until certain clothes fit but if I get to a point where I want to start eating the fruits and whole grains badly enough, I may. Everything in moderation. Right? I'm not sure if I can do that so I've really got to work on that process.
I've made a lot of changes in these past 24 days. Some aren't obvious to others but for me, they're changes. Mostly I've changed my way of thinking about things. It's not just the physical and nutritional changes, which, while important, aren't the main focus of my change. It's the psychological changes that are directing my actions. Instead of letting my mind work against me, I'm finding ways to change my way of thinking, change my self talk and the mind games I play against myself. So far, I'm winning that battle and it feels good.
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