Okay, my son's father/my roommate decided to use his entire paycheck (which was marked for bills and groceries) as a down payment on a new-er car (3rd in less than 18 months *cry*) -- so out of spite, I bought myself Bob Harper's new book, The Skinny Rules.
Right... I know how to get revenge!
But.. the rules are fairly simple. Things like... eat your veggies, eat protein, drink lots of water, eat apples and berries. Things I already do. I'm not one of those "eww, its green, deep fry it or take it away!" people -- I like veggies.
However, I'd like to bitch about one specific rule right now.
The "no sweeteners of any form" rule.
Basically, anything you buy better not have corn syrup or sugar OR artifical sweeteners in it. The fruit you eat should be the low sugar kind (that's why its berries and apples.) My daily coffee -- my one pleasure -- is apparently now supposed to be black, with no dairy or artifical dairy AND no splenda.
Sugar, I could give a rats ass about giving up. Yes, I use it in baking when its called for. And of course if a plate of cookies/waffles/muffins/pancakes is in front of me, I'm going to nom nom like crazy. But except for a few days each month (oh yes, you know which ones)... I'm not really a big sweets eater. I'm more of a rich-greasy-indulgent steak kind of fat kid, most days. Gimme a pizza, and I'd probably perform an illicit act or 2 kind of fat kid. Is it going to be a little more difficult, making sure the bread I buy has no sugar in it... sure. Giving up flavored greek yogurt in exchange for the plain... hell yes. Especially since I can't throw a packet of splenda into the blender with my smoothie. But, I can accept those things.
MY COFFEE I CANNOT!
*cries eternally*
i'm trying though. i've cut the half and half (it was already the fat free version, so i see no point in turning it to skim milk, even though bob says that's all i'm allowed to use... skim milk...) down to half its normal amount, and gone from 3 packets of splenda per cup to 1.
also, i've cut my daily coffee from 5-6 cups to 2.
i have a headache.
a low grade, dull, eye-aching headache.
that has persisted since i started this.
i miss my coffees.
oh well, it's 30 days. if it doesn't workout, i'll go back to my normal coffee and just do extra good on the rest of it! ;)
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
On a different note...
I am in love.
With a memory, sadly.
Nothing new.
He was my best friend. My soul mate. The love of my life. The father of my child. MY BEST FRIEND.
He wrote me a poem once. I haven't thought of it in years. I can't remember the words, but I wish I'd memorized it. I wish I'd kept it. I wish I'd appreciated it, way back then. Because what I do remember is the love it conveyed.
He may have been the one person I've ever known who accepted me, for me, and loved it. I didn't try to change him, he didn't try to change me. But when we lay down at night, we fit perfectly in each others arms.
Life changed. I changed, he changed. Things happened that hardened his heart, or didn't happen, but were said to have. I don't even know anymore. Meanwhile, I got healthier and he got sicker. For a while, I thought he was getting healthier without me, and I was thrilled.
We made a go at fixing it. Or at least, I made a go at fixing it. But I had to fix me, and I didn't know that. He made a go at loving someone else. And let me go completely.
No contact. No friendship. No acknowledgement. An entire life - family, love, friendship - gone. In a couple minutes on the phone, every dream I held so dear disappeared. Not just *HIM*, although thats what hurt the most for the longest. But his family, who had become mine. I doubt they knew how much I loved them, but I miss them all the time. And I hate him for doing that. For just going on, like it never happened. Like our love and our plans and our hopes and our dreams, our friendship and the family we'd built together, never happened.
My little girl, who looks perfectly like a mix of the best parts of us both, asking me why we can't just be together kills me. Her exact words... "If it was my world, you and daddy would still be together, and we'd all live happy". How do you explain it, when over 5 years later, your heart still breaks at the thought that you'll never again hear him say he loves you? When you can't even tell him hello, for the fear in your throat eating you alive. If I could just tell her that we no longer loved each other, that that's why we walked away, at least it'd be an end. But he's still the only man I've ever wanted.
I KNOW we'd never work out now. We're two very different people. And I see him hurting - the woman he left me for left him for being him... the same him i love so desperately (although if i had to bet, they'll be back together soon) - and I don't want him back. I want him happy.
When he's happy, then I can afford to be selfish enough to admit that I'd spend every minute of the rest of my life trying to make him happy if he'd let me.
There's nothing in the world that can bring tears to my eyes this honestly. This freely. Its hard to breath sometimes. And there's nothing to do with it, except replay "You were mine" and "like we never loved at all" over and over again (youtube is my only friend) in my empty apartment, and try not to think too much about my empty life. The life i built to replace him. The life that only has the bright spot of my son (and yes, he burns like the sun on a dark night. i wouldn't trade him for anything). The life, that, from all outward appearances is better than it ever was before. I've got the toys (well, some of them anyway, we're still poor but not nearly as poor as I was before), and the home, and I hate it all.
All I want, everyday, is our dirty basement, futon mattress on the floor, that opal-diamond ring that meant we'd be together forever, and the poem I can no longer remember the words too. and to fall asleep in the only arms i've ever fit in.
Tonight, its breaking my heart.
Tomorrow, I'll get up and go on with my life.
But please just let me have tonight.
With a memory, sadly.
Nothing new.
He was my best friend. My soul mate. The love of my life. The father of my child. MY BEST FRIEND.
He wrote me a poem once. I haven't thought of it in years. I can't remember the words, but I wish I'd memorized it. I wish I'd kept it. I wish I'd appreciated it, way back then. Because what I do remember is the love it conveyed.
He may have been the one person I've ever known who accepted me, for me, and loved it. I didn't try to change him, he didn't try to change me. But when we lay down at night, we fit perfectly in each others arms.
Life changed. I changed, he changed. Things happened that hardened his heart, or didn't happen, but were said to have. I don't even know anymore. Meanwhile, I got healthier and he got sicker. For a while, I thought he was getting healthier without me, and I was thrilled.
We made a go at fixing it. Or at least, I made a go at fixing it. But I had to fix me, and I didn't know that. He made a go at loving someone else. And let me go completely.
No contact. No friendship. No acknowledgement. An entire life - family, love, friendship - gone. In a couple minutes on the phone, every dream I held so dear disappeared. Not just *HIM*, although thats what hurt the most for the longest. But his family, who had become mine. I doubt they knew how much I loved them, but I miss them all the time. And I hate him for doing that. For just going on, like it never happened. Like our love and our plans and our hopes and our dreams, our friendship and the family we'd built together, never happened.
My little girl, who looks perfectly like a mix of the best parts of us both, asking me why we can't just be together kills me. Her exact words... "If it was my world, you and daddy would still be together, and we'd all live happy". How do you explain it, when over 5 years later, your heart still breaks at the thought that you'll never again hear him say he loves you? When you can't even tell him hello, for the fear in your throat eating you alive. If I could just tell her that we no longer loved each other, that that's why we walked away, at least it'd be an end. But he's still the only man I've ever wanted.
I KNOW we'd never work out now. We're two very different people. And I see him hurting - the woman he left me for left him for being him... the same him i love so desperately (although if i had to bet, they'll be back together soon) - and I don't want him back. I want him happy.
When he's happy, then I can afford to be selfish enough to admit that I'd spend every minute of the rest of my life trying to make him happy if he'd let me.
There's nothing in the world that can bring tears to my eyes this honestly. This freely. Its hard to breath sometimes. And there's nothing to do with it, except replay "You were mine" and "like we never loved at all" over and over again (youtube is my only friend) in my empty apartment, and try not to think too much about my empty life. The life i built to replace him. The life that only has the bright spot of my son (and yes, he burns like the sun on a dark night. i wouldn't trade him for anything). The life, that, from all outward appearances is better than it ever was before. I've got the toys (well, some of them anyway, we're still poor but not nearly as poor as I was before), and the home, and I hate it all.
All I want, everyday, is our dirty basement, futon mattress on the floor, that opal-diamond ring that meant we'd be together forever, and the poem I can no longer remember the words too. and to fall asleep in the only arms i've ever fit in.
Tonight, its breaking my heart.
Tomorrow, I'll get up and go on with my life.
But please just let me have tonight.
So why do I do it?
Its mother's day.
I'm sore, I'm achey, In half an hour-ish my toddler will wakeup for naptime, and the nightly routine of cook, feed, cleanup, feed again, force to help clean, bed will start. I will barely be able to walk by that point, as I'm only halfway through today's workout... 30 day shred completed, but still got c25k day 3 to go... and i'm already shaky.
So, why do I do it? It'd be so much easier to eat with the kids. To clean the mess... whenever I get to it. To not workout.
Here's an example. I took my kids to the mall last week. A fairly big deal for us, because we rarely go anywhere. (more-so because my daughter is not with me full time -- a consequence of my drug addiction many years ago.) I had just ripped the inner thigh of my last pair of jeans that fit the day before. Which made me cry, because I own about 16 pairs of very nice jeans that fit me a year ago, and have progressively stopped fitting. It also made me cry because I had to wear them anyway, after trying on all 16 other pairs, because all of my assorted yoga/workout pants were in the dryer which has a busted door and occasionally fails to dry things. so i was already in a bad mood, and we were 10 minutes late picking up my daughter... which is a huge deal when i only get 3-4 hours every couple of weeks.
we stopped by the disney store, and then walked to the giant bungee-jump, so my daughter could bounce up and down for a while.
The sign read "180 lbs maxium".
90 pounds less than me.
The mere thought of stepping on the scale in public was actually mortifying.
So I had to tell my precious little girl that I couldn't play with her. after being late. after realizing i'm too fat for my clothing.
i want to be around for my grandkids, my greatgrand kids too even. and i'd like to be able to do anything they want. to be comfortable with myself enough to do it, too. you just aren't comfortable when you're worried your jeans are going to rip even further, exposing parts you don't even like to look at.
thats why i do it.
so, off to jog i go!
I'm sore, I'm achey, In half an hour-ish my toddler will wakeup for naptime, and the nightly routine of cook, feed, cleanup, feed again, force to help clean, bed will start. I will barely be able to walk by that point, as I'm only halfway through today's workout... 30 day shred completed, but still got c25k day 3 to go... and i'm already shaky.
So, why do I do it? It'd be so much easier to eat with the kids. To clean the mess... whenever I get to it. To not workout.
Here's an example. I took my kids to the mall last week. A fairly big deal for us, because we rarely go anywhere. (more-so because my daughter is not with me full time -- a consequence of my drug addiction many years ago.) I had just ripped the inner thigh of my last pair of jeans that fit the day before. Which made me cry, because I own about 16 pairs of very nice jeans that fit me a year ago, and have progressively stopped fitting. It also made me cry because I had to wear them anyway, after trying on all 16 other pairs, because all of my assorted yoga/workout pants were in the dryer which has a busted door and occasionally fails to dry things. so i was already in a bad mood, and we were 10 minutes late picking up my daughter... which is a huge deal when i only get 3-4 hours every couple of weeks.
we stopped by the disney store, and then walked to the giant bungee-jump, so my daughter could bounce up and down for a while.
The sign read "180 lbs maxium".
90 pounds less than me.
The mere thought of stepping on the scale in public was actually mortifying.
So I had to tell my precious little girl that I couldn't play with her. after being late. after realizing i'm too fat for my clothing.
i want to be around for my grandkids, my greatgrand kids too even. and i'd like to be able to do anything they want. to be comfortable with myself enough to do it, too. you just aren't comfortable when you're worried your jeans are going to rip even further, exposing parts you don't even like to look at.
thats why i do it.
so, off to jog i go!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Yoga for a fat person.
First, let me start with... yoga for me is not sitting around going "ooam".
If yoga, for you, is sitting around going "ooam", you may not get this post at all. That's okay. I wish I could sit around and go "ooam", but I get antsy in about 27 seconds. (Okay, I never timed it... 27 might be too generous.)
So, here's an idea of what yoga is like for me.
First, you must prepare yourself. You will need some rubber-ducky floatation devices, filled as full as possible (you want little to absolutely no flexibility in them) around your waist. Also, you'll need some weighted padding around your arms and thighs... enough so that when you sit with your legs together out straight, your thighs touch but your feet are still 2-3 feet apart. Oh yes, add one of those neck-encasing travel-pillows, so that your chin touches your neck without you ever bending your head.
Now, sit on the ground with your legs straddled as far out as possible, and attempt to bend forward. Go ahead. Notice the 1 inch you manage to move before your own body starts cutting off your supply of oxygen? It feels great, right?
Okay...did you finally manage to get your hands to touch the ground somewhere between your feet? Good... after holding that for an eternity or two, proceed to GRACEFULLY shift your body weight so that in one fluid motion, you go into a "plank" (appropriate, because you're about to feel dead)...lift one leg up behind yourself, then gracefully shift it so your foot is between your hands, all still without moving your arms at all!...and stand-up into a glorified torture-pose known as "warrior". You did all that with wonderful GRACE and EASE, right? Now, hold your arms out, straight... you're a warrior, you can't flinch or shake or lower your arms, dammit!... and stand there.
That's just one set of movements.
Hell, forget all that. Just stand up straight and hold your arms in that position for a minute or two.
It hurts.
Any static pose that requires your muscles to hold weight for any given time HURTS.
A year ago, mind you, I could do the entire routine (of which, this is only one small segement) flawlessly, with some degree of grace and ease... so I'm vent-y.
I made it through the first (longest) segement of the 3, with only minor unscheduled breaks and a few not-so-peaceful words out of my mouth.
The only easy part of the entire thing though... "corpse pose"!
If yoga, for you, is sitting around going "ooam", you may not get this post at all. That's okay. I wish I could sit around and go "ooam", but I get antsy in about 27 seconds. (Okay, I never timed it... 27 might be too generous.)
So, here's an idea of what yoga is like for me.
First, you must prepare yourself. You will need some rubber-ducky floatation devices, filled as full as possible (you want little to absolutely no flexibility in them) around your waist. Also, you'll need some weighted padding around your arms and thighs... enough so that when you sit with your legs together out straight, your thighs touch but your feet are still 2-3 feet apart. Oh yes, add one of those neck-encasing travel-pillows, so that your chin touches your neck without you ever bending your head.
Now, sit on the ground with your legs straddled as far out as possible, and attempt to bend forward. Go ahead. Notice the 1 inch you manage to move before your own body starts cutting off your supply of oxygen? It feels great, right?
Okay...did you finally manage to get your hands to touch the ground somewhere between your feet? Good... after holding that for an eternity or two, proceed to GRACEFULLY shift your body weight so that in one fluid motion, you go into a "plank" (appropriate, because you're about to feel dead)...lift one leg up behind yourself, then gracefully shift it so your foot is between your hands, all still without moving your arms at all!...and stand-up into a glorified torture-pose known as "warrior". You did all that with wonderful GRACE and EASE, right? Now, hold your arms out, straight... you're a warrior, you can't flinch or shake or lower your arms, dammit!... and stand there.
That's just one set of movements.
Hell, forget all that. Just stand up straight and hold your arms in that position for a minute or two.
It hurts.
Any static pose that requires your muscles to hold weight for any given time HURTS.
A year ago, mind you, I could do the entire routine (of which, this is only one small segement) flawlessly, with some degree of grace and ease... so I'm vent-y.
I made it through the first (longest) segement of the 3, with only minor unscheduled breaks and a few not-so-peaceful words out of my mouth.
The only easy part of the entire thing though... "corpse pose"!
Friday, May 11, 2012
No, I haven't given up.
Its been a long 5 months since I started this blog.
That sore throat that sucked so bad turned into pneumonia.
And having some undetermined genetic immune disorder, sick always equals eternal plague. i simply don't get better, for long stretches at a time. So every week or two i'd take a few days and make a shot at getting back on track, just to end up on the couch (oh yes, since about march when the weather turned, there's been some mysterious invisible bug that only bites me, and only when i sleep in my bed, living in my house. since most of this region is glorified swamp land, it's most likely some form of mite. but now i live on the couch) dying again.
Starting today, I was up to 269.2 pounds.
My dear friend G. and I have restarted our monthly challenges with each other. Of course, she has 30 pounds to go. I have 130. it doesn't really seem equal. but if life was fair, i wouldn't have been born the fat kid in the first place, right?
i need to accept that i can't do it all at once. i've been back using my treadmill on a fairly regular basis (the baby's dad started a 2nd job, so he's almost literally never here, freeing up my 800$ clothing rack to return to its spot of glory as a torture/workout device) -- and this months challenge agreement was jillian michael's 30 day shred.
i almost wanted to cry. last year, this time, i could do all 3 of the 30 minute workouts on that video. i mean, sure they hurt. sure i wanted to die. but i *could* do them. today, the easiest of the 3 required me to modify multiple exercises and to drop my weights a few times. it feels like, once again in my life, i am starting over from scratch. 15 years ago, i didn't mind. i'd move and leave everything i owned behind. pack a bag and just go. these days, facing a major restart in 9 months when my son turns 3, its really discouraging to have to restart anything else. *anything*.
but i didn't cry and i didn't scream, and after the 30 minutes i still did my 30 minute c25k routine on the treadmill. didn't eat great today, had spaghetti with greasy meat sauce and stole some of my son's chicken nuggets too. even ate a few of his oreos. (2.5 to be exact.) but i did have fruit and a mostly-lettuce turkey sandwich for lunch, and i did track my calories.
also only had 2 cups of coffee today, instead of my normal 5ish. which may explain why its 10pm and i'm ready to pass out. (sad fact of insomnia, you are *always* ready to pass out, and you can almost never do it, unless its a highly inappropriate time, like when you're kid has just gotten up from his nap and wants to play. then, inevitably you will fall asleep immediately.)
i am really looking forward to some of these health issues declining with the weight. because i know for a fact a year ago my insomnia was under control, my plague issues were greatly decreased, i had a lot more energy. all those wonderful things you always hear promised in mid-night weight loss commercials, in fact.
oh well, we'll see where it goes from here!
That sore throat that sucked so bad turned into pneumonia.
And having some undetermined genetic immune disorder, sick always equals eternal plague. i simply don't get better, for long stretches at a time. So every week or two i'd take a few days and make a shot at getting back on track, just to end up on the couch (oh yes, since about march when the weather turned, there's been some mysterious invisible bug that only bites me, and only when i sleep in my bed, living in my house. since most of this region is glorified swamp land, it's most likely some form of mite. but now i live on the couch) dying again.
Starting today, I was up to 269.2 pounds.
My dear friend G. and I have restarted our monthly challenges with each other. Of course, she has 30 pounds to go. I have 130. it doesn't really seem equal. but if life was fair, i wouldn't have been born the fat kid in the first place, right?
i need to accept that i can't do it all at once. i've been back using my treadmill on a fairly regular basis (the baby's dad started a 2nd job, so he's almost literally never here, freeing up my 800$ clothing rack to return to its spot of glory as a torture/workout device) -- and this months challenge agreement was jillian michael's 30 day shred.
i almost wanted to cry. last year, this time, i could do all 3 of the 30 minute workouts on that video. i mean, sure they hurt. sure i wanted to die. but i *could* do them. today, the easiest of the 3 required me to modify multiple exercises and to drop my weights a few times. it feels like, once again in my life, i am starting over from scratch. 15 years ago, i didn't mind. i'd move and leave everything i owned behind. pack a bag and just go. these days, facing a major restart in 9 months when my son turns 3, its really discouraging to have to restart anything else. *anything*.
but i didn't cry and i didn't scream, and after the 30 minutes i still did my 30 minute c25k routine on the treadmill. didn't eat great today, had spaghetti with greasy meat sauce and stole some of my son's chicken nuggets too. even ate a few of his oreos. (2.5 to be exact.) but i did have fruit and a mostly-lettuce turkey sandwich for lunch, and i did track my calories.
also only had 2 cups of coffee today, instead of my normal 5ish. which may explain why its 10pm and i'm ready to pass out. (sad fact of insomnia, you are *always* ready to pass out, and you can almost never do it, unless its a highly inappropriate time, like when you're kid has just gotten up from his nap and wants to play. then, inevitably you will fall asleep immediately.)
i am really looking forward to some of these health issues declining with the weight. because i know for a fact a year ago my insomnia was under control, my plague issues were greatly decreased, i had a lot more energy. all those wonderful things you always hear promised in mid-night weight loss commercials, in fact.
oh well, we'll see where it goes from here!
Friday, January 6, 2012
Almost...
Almost managed to do good, last week.
Dunno what happened to me.
I don't understand why this is so difficult this time around.
2 years ago, I loved healthy food and working out.
Now, I love sitting on my ass and eating fried whatever-i-can-gets.
Renewed my bodybugg subscription after a few months without it. Perhaps having the numbers stare me in the face again will help. Can't hurt at this point, right?
Dunno what happened to me.
I don't understand why this is so difficult this time around.
2 years ago, I loved healthy food and working out.
Now, I love sitting on my ass and eating fried whatever-i-can-gets.
Renewed my bodybugg subscription after a few months without it. Perhaps having the numbers stare me in the face again will help. Can't hurt at this point, right?
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Bad days.
Well, the sore throat never did go away.
Now it's New Year's eve.
The fat kid has definitely been winning.
Failed to get my jog in yesterday, due to the dying part.
Failed to get it in this afternoon, due to the being a mom part.
Am thinking that my moving-out-tomorrow-anyway neighbors will have to deal with the treadmill tonight. Because its that, or I order chinese to celebrate my 30th new years eve sitting at home (not much of an exaggeration... have never been to a new year's eve party, or had a date on new year's eve if you don't count when my daughter's dad and i were a couple... in fact, i've never, in my life, been on a legitimate date. that's so fucking sad.) doing nothing.
i feel like cursing, that's what i feel like.
Now it's New Year's eve.
The fat kid has definitely been winning.
Failed to get my jog in yesterday, due to the dying part.
Failed to get it in this afternoon, due to the being a mom part.
Am thinking that my moving-out-tomorrow-anyway neighbors will have to deal with the treadmill tonight. Because its that, or I order chinese to celebrate my 30th new years eve sitting at home (not much of an exaggeration... have never been to a new year's eve party, or had a date on new year's eve if you don't count when my daughter's dad and i were a couple... in fact, i've never, in my life, been on a legitimate date. that's so fucking sad.) doing nothing.
i feel like cursing, that's what i feel like.
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