Vacation was wonderful. We had a fantastic time and I am so proud of myself. I think most of my anxiety came from the stress of not having taken a vacation in five years. It’s amazing what sitting on an island for a week being treated like royalty will do for your stress levels. It really helps you re-prioritize what’s important in your life.
We ziplined
I zip lined. It was terrifying and the very best way I could spend my 30th birthday. After that day, I wasn’t afraid of anything. I was reborn. I’ve had Religious Experiences in my life, and this was remarkably like that. I’m sure it had to do with brain chemistry I don’t understand, but I’m glad that I found a way to duplicate that feeling, without losing myself and my sense of reason. The hardest part was talking myself into it. Once I did that, all I had to do was do it. Once you don’t let yourself have an out, you just make it work.
Snorkeling is srs bzns.
I snorkeled. The fish and coral were beautiful. My main concerns here were that I would drown in an ill-fitting mask or flood my snorkel or let someone see me in spandex. As it turns out, none of those things are particularly terrible. Slamming your sunburned thigh into the propeller of the boat while trying to climb onto the ladder? That was pretty terrible. But I survived. I didn’t even cry.
When it comes down to it, there are only so many days we’re on this planet. It’s beautiful and fragile and somehow both impossibly huge and inexplicably tiny (not unlike ourselves, I suppose). I’m not going to waste any more time being afraid of the little things, or I’ll never get to see the amazing things.
This post is going to be personal. The more I write here, the more I realize that this isn’t just a weight loss blog. It’s become a place to help me to get rid of all sorts of extra pounds. Since my food binges are so often because I’m overwhelmed (I take “comfort food” to a new level), it makes sense that I should try to process some of the emotions contributing to my overeating. Since my anxiety tries to get me to stay a shut-in, rather than force myself outside — or to the gym, or to the store, or to that movie I want to see — maybe I can use that self-imposed seclusion to work out why I’m so anxious in the first place.
That being said, I know not everyone wants to see my dirty laundry, so I’m giving you fair warning, and a More Tag, to just skip past this one if it makes you uncomfortable. It doesn’t make me so, but everyone has their own boundaries and I don’t want to be seen as inconsiderate.
I don’t know what triggered this, but it’s been a complete mental shipwreck.
It’s involved minor annoyances at work, a failed diet (although, to be fair, I haven’t regained weight, I just haven’t made any progress in a while), a terrible week for acne, a change of facebook profile picture which led to comments from coworkers about how happy I looked which made me worry that I was too much of a sourpuss at work (which I’ve been spoken to by my supervisor before, so I really want to avoid that impression), the remnants of Isaac causing a whole day of Soggy Sock Syndrome while accruing overtime I didn’t particularly want, topped off with gory & violent & recurring nightmares that leave footprints throughout my waking hours; all stressors that make me feel guilty or inadequate or like a failure. Any single one of the things that went wrong with my week by itself would have been fine, but it was just a miserable week for me, whether or not some of those stressors were ones I put on myself. My brain is broken like that. It’s just usually easier to deal with the broken parts than it was this week. All of those emotions came to a head and the psychological pimple burst last night in a shower of tears and cleaning and some much needed purging my living room of junk and while I was miserable while it happened, I feel much better today (plus I have a clean couch to sit on and several loads of dishes done).
I do have to work tomorrow, but for some reason I’m actually looking forward to it. I needed a mental reset, and I think maybe yesterday’s climax and this afternoon’s class was what snapped me out of this funk I’ve been in. Tonight was a balance snatch skill (I got up to 3 rep max of 75 pounds) and burpee box jumps. I’m beginning to not dread either burpees or box jumps. I still hate them, just like I hate everything there, but I’m somewhere between dread and dislike now. The actual WOD was Nancy (see above) and I got cocky and tried to do it RX’d. I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking, or if I even was at all. On the third round we dropped the weight to 55# after just 3 squats, and I still stopped the WOD at the end of the 3rd round rather than try for a 4th and 5th one. I have no business trying one of the Girls RX’d, but I wasn’t really thinking about it being a Girl, I just looked at the work that needed to be done and thought I could do it. I was wrong, but I was confident. That’s an improvement all on its own.
Glad to finally be happy again, even if it’s just for this evening. I’m hoping I can stretch it longer, but that likely depends on whether I can get some good sleep.
Can a night-owl become a morning-person? How about someone who just likes to sleep?
After 30 days of strict paleo (with one exception: goat cheese) and 7 days of recovery from strict paleo, I had my weigh-out today. All in all, I lost 12 pounds. I thought it would be more than that, but at least it’s double-digits. Now I have to get back on the bandwagon before I lose even that.
I don’t know what, specifically, makes it so difficult to me to even think about. Part of it is PMS, I’m sure. Part of it is a little scary to think about losing weight as fast as I did. I think I’ve talked about this before. But regardless of the fear/dread of starting back up again, I at least need to make the attempt. After all, I lost those 12 pounds in the first week; all the weight I lost in the subsequent 3 weeks got lost in the “recovery” week. I wasn’t recovering, I was feeling sorry for myself and binging on crap again. Who’s got two thumbs and isn’t surprised?
So yesterday, I dutifully packed my lunch. It’s so much easier to say no to the tempting food in the cafeteria when I have a perfectly fine — even if not particularly appetizing — lunch waiting for me in the refrigerator. I was good absolutely all day yesterday. I even suggested we have a vegetable with dinner. Zucchini, even! And when Nate said, “But this has sugar in it!” to the Lawry’s, I might have snapped a little too harshly about how less than a teaspoon of Lawry’s is going on 11 chicken pieces, and I wasn’t going to blow up like a balloon if THREE GRAINS of sugar cross my lips. I realize now that he’s probably watched me this last week and thought, “Well, there she goes. It was worth a try, hoping this diet would stick …”
But I don’t want that. I want to actually change things. I want to learn to like (at least a few) vegetables (I may have thrown up in my mouth a little just now). I want to stop hurting all the time. I want to stop pooping all the time. Have I told you about that? I still can’t believe how long I put up with feeling like that every single day when in just a few weeks, I turned it around with a few diet modifications.
Paleo isn’t as hard as I made it out to be, while I was doing it. It certainly felt that bad to me at the time, but after spending a few days back on it, the habits were easy to fall into again. I’ve leveled up in the meantime, however, and going to see if I can make better progress with a new strategy. I’m going to continue to count carbs (under 100g/day) and protein (approx 100g/day), and keep not paying attention to calories (although that’s difficult, with the food tracking app I use; I’m sure at the very least I’m noticing calorie count subconsciously, it’s been ingrained for so long). I’m going to learn to make compromises (sweet potato is better than potatoes, but a baked potato is better than mashed “potato” made from flakes), but not to depend on those compromises (keep packing a lunch, more days than not). Before I try to get “better” at Paleo, I think I need to learn how to make this effort sustainable. Preservation of my sanity is more important to me than strict 100% compliance. I also need to learn how to make this be my new normal, and get comfortable & inspired. That last part is going to take time, but I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m starting to see that now.
I’ve made such a fuss over this, I’m not going to give up on day 3, but OH. MY. GAWD. I never thought I’d feel this bad.
Hungry all the time. Craving sweets like never before. So sleepy. My poops are awful (no warning, frequent, loose, and strange colors). Nate asked me what I wanted from the store just now and I said, “Nothing, I’m not allowed to eat anything.” Not true! But I’m in such a bad mood that I can’t think about anything except the food I’m not allowed to have.
I know it’s just my body getting used to this, but I just want to cry. And eat a gallon of ice cream.
It should be noted, Nate is being so supportive. It’s unbelievable. I don’t deserve a guy like him (just don’t tell him that).
My local Crossfit box has been too busy to accept new people for a while, but I emailed anyway to get put on the list … and tonight she just emailed me to tell me I’ll start On-Ramp next week! Might have gotten a little dizzy when I read it, I’ll be honest. The good news is, I only have 4 days to get through without talking myself out of it. Right here, sitting in front of my computer, I do not want to talk myself out of it. Tuesday evening, sitting in my car outside, I’ll be wishing I had.
There are a few legitimate reasons for me to be concerned — I haven’t really fully recovered from that cold/asthma/bronchitis/whatever the hell, for one thing. I’m still hocking up loogies like nobody’s business, and it’s definitely worse after I exert myself. But maybe that’s a good thing. Get that junk up and out of me, right? I mean, I’m not wheezing anymore. And most of my fears are totally stupid fears, fears about being embarrassed for not being as in shape as everybody else. The part of me that’s scared is the part of me that got picked last in gym class. The fat kid with no self-esteem. The last several posts here have illustrated well just how alive she still is and how loud she can be.
But the rest of me wants to shut her up, stuff her down and get ON with the rest of my life. As I said, 29 is the year I stop letting being afraid dictate how I live my life. I’m not going to let my fear decide who I am and what I do. At least, if I say that I won’t, I’ll probably do it a little less than if I didn’t try at all.
I’ve been reading about Crossfit since at least 2010. If I’d started then, imagine where I’d be right now. Imagine where I’d be if I’d started last June when this box opened. Better late than never, I suppose.
I have been sicker this week than I ever have been. It started out as a cold and quickly progressed to a point where I couldn’t breathe very well. After a week of prednisone and every-four-hours albuterol, and Symbicort every 12 hours since Wednesday, I am finally starting to feel better. I’m not 100% yet, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I still get very winded walking or standing, and it will probably be a little while yet before I can get back to exercising, but I will get back to tracking my food intake and then add in exercise as I can.
I probably won’t be in good enough shape to beat my 5k time last fall, but next month I’d like to run across the Penobscot Narrows Bridge. I haven’t always been the biggest fan of bridges, but for that matter I haven’t been the biggest fan of fitness and exercise. It helps that the race crosses the bridge at the beginning, so I will be able to get the scary part out of the way, and won’t be too tired to run across the bridge and get it over with (fairly) quickly.
Wherever the work takes me 