Ditching The Scale

I think I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. Or maybe it's already happened, I don't know.  What I do know is that I'm ditching my scale.  For at least a month, maybe forever, we'll see.  Stepping on it day in and day out is making me crazy.  And, if I'm being honest, I'm stepping on it multiple times a day.  It's ridiculous and it's got to stop.

Not only is it driving me crazy, I know it's not telling me the whole story.  On top of that, it's making me freak out about things that I shouldn't freak out about.  Let me explain...

It's driving me crazy... because it's driving me crazy!  My OCD forces me to step on the stupid thing every time I see it.  So, if I can't see it, I can't step on it. Problem one solved.

It's not telling me the whole story.  Clearly, the scale can only reflect a number.  It can't reflect how hard I'm working.  It can't reflect how my body is changing.  It can't reflect the muscle I'm building.  I can't allow myself to get hung up on a number any longer.  So, if I can't see the number I can't get hung up on it. Problem two solved.

I'm freaking out about things I shouldn't freak out about.  This one's a little harder to explain.  I'm starting to really stress out about the future.  When I reach my goal I feel like I won't be able to justify working with my trainer anymore.  As much as I rely on him to guide me and help me through some of the emotional baggage I'm dealing with, I genuinely enjoy working with him.  I look forward to my sessions.  After a year, we get along well and the sessions are as much fun as they are work.  I'm not ready to give that up just because I reach a certain number.  So, if I stop focusing on the scale and reaching an ultimate "number" goal, I can start to focus on making this a forever lifestyle change, which will include fun workouts with a trainer.  Problem three solved.

So, for September, I ditch the scale.

35

I weigh 35 pounds less than I used to!  These last 5 pounds took me nearly 5 months to lose, but that's alright.  Despite the snail-like pace the weight seems to be coming off, the fact is, it's coming off.  I've learned to really appreciate and celebrate the non-scale victories.  I'm noticing muscles that I never had.  I'm fitting into clothes that I haven't worn in years.  The weight on my barbells is going up and so are the number of push-ups that I'm able to do.  Slow as it is, the process is working.  And, I know that I'm doing it the right way, so I'm confident that the weight will stay off.  Next stop... 40 pounds!

I'm Scared

I should be done by now.  I've been working with my trainer for 11 months.
I should be done.  Still, I look in the mirror and can quite easily see the areas where I still have weight to lose.  The problem isn't in my workouts.  I'm at the gym 5 days a week most weeks.  Some weeks I'm there 6 days.  I'm fairly confident that I'm good in that respect.  Unfortunately, this leads me to believe it's my eating.  And for whatever reason, this is an area that I'm terribly uncomfortable addressing.

I don't know why I'm so guarded about it though.  Probably because, deep down, I know that's where I'm screwing up, so I don't want to talk about it.  Now, I'm not eating horribly.  If I were, I'd be gaining weight, which I'm not.  But, I'm not losing any either.  I've been stuck at the same weight for quite some time now.  And, if I look back and really think about it, I know my eating is to blame.  I just can't quite figure out why. I know what to do.  It isn't rocket science.  I need to eat less calories than I burn.  Period.  However, as the day goes on, I start to care less.  No, that's not true.  I don't care less, I just don't care enough to make good choices.  I don't even know if that makes sense...

There's got to be an underlying reason.  Honestly, I think I'm scared of getting close.  Because I am close.  I'm sitting here knowing that I really only want to lose 15 more pounds.  That's not much.  But it's scary to think about being "done."  Losing weight is all I know.  My entire adult life, that's all I've ever known.  As much as I don't like it, I'm comfortable doing it because I've done it for so long.  I don't know how to be fit.  I don't know how to not focus on my weight.  I don't know how to work out just to work out.  It scares the hell out of me.

If I don't work on this last piece of the puzzle, I won't get there.  I'll stay right where I am, 15 pounds away from my goal.  But, it's safe here.  I know how to do this.  So, as long as I keep doing what I'm doing, I'm going to stay where I am.  I'm just not sure which scares me more... reaching my goal or not reaching it.

Letting Myself Go

Him: "So, do you have any more weddings or reunions to get ready for?"
Me: "Nope, I'm done with those."
Him: "Oh, OK.  Well, I hope you don't let yourself go now..."
Me: "........crickets..............."

This was a conversation that I had in my Spinning class the other day.  I really, truly, had no idea how to respond to that comment.  The only thing I could muster up was "I've got too much money invested to let myself go. I'm going to continue my training."

Now, to defend this gentleman, he's normally very quiet and very nice.  I'm sure he didn't mean it to come across the way I took it.  For the life of me, I just can't figure out why it came up at all.  But it did, and it got me thinking.

Are those the kind of "vibes" I'm sending out?  Do I come across as someone who would work that hard for a goal, then give it all up once I achieve it?  I didn't think I was, but I don't know. It's really kinda irritating because I'm not even done yet and people are worried about me giving up.  While weddings and reunions are good goal dates to work for, my ultimate goal is to lose the weight I want to lose and be the strongest, healthiest mom I can be. I'm not there yet, so my work isn't done.  As I sit here typing this, I'm sore from a workout.  I worked out with extreme focus yesterday.  As the conversation was fresh in my mind, I felt like I had something to prove.  Honestly, I'm not sure if I was proving it to him or to myself.  Either way, I can assure you that I have no intention of letting myself go.

Time Out

I'm taking to my blog before I do something I know I'll regret.  I'm having a rough time today.  I'm still not 100% healed from this injury...The kids are driving me crazy and I just lost my temper with them...  I've been stuck at the same weight for several weeks now... It just isn't a great day. As irritated as I am right now, I want to eat everything in sight.  I was standing in my kitchen unloading my dishwasher, and I was taking stock of everything I had in my cupboard.  Sweet, salty, chocolaty, nutty, you name it.  When I get like this it doesn't really matter, I just want to eat something to calm down.  But, I didn't.

Instead, I decided to sit down, take a time out, and work through it.  I removed myself from the situation to think about what a bad idea that would have been.  I'm not hungry, I'm frustrated.  Eating my way through a bag of chips won't magically make the kids' rooms clean.  Going to town on a jar of trail mix won't heal my stupid rib.  I know all this.  I also know that if I did allow myself to lose control, I'd hate myself.  Which would probably make me want to eat something else to punish myself for eating in the first place.  It's a vicious, stupid cycle that has no point. But, it's one that I found myself in often.  Until now.

I didn't do it today.  I made myself a pot of coffee instead.  I'm going to finish this post, kick back in my recliner and enjoy a cup of coffee.  Then I'm going to silently pat myself on the back for being mindful enough to not let a rough day turn into an eating disaster.

Down For The Count

Yup, just like the title suggests, I'm down for a bit.  I injured myself while doing some ab work, and I'm now the proud owner of a strained rib muscle.  It's amazing how little things, like breathing, can hurt a rib muscle.  So, as far as the gym goes, I'm kinda limited.  I can still do my spinning and elliptical, but rowing is out for a while.  My weight training has also taken a hit since too much arm movement is painful.  I'm down to 30 minute sessions, but we're only doing legs. Now, don't get me wrong, my trainer managed to make me beg for mercy in my last 30 minute leg session.  But, none the less, push-ups, pull-ups, and ab work will have to wait.  I'm not thrilled about it either.

I'm really not good at having limitations.  I'm a tough chick, so it drives me crazy knowing that something little like this can slow me down.  Like I said, I'm doing what I can, just not everything I want to do.  I was actually boxing with one arm today, just to get some arm work.  I'm completely over this and ready to move on!

Learning To Love The Pain

For the last few months, a friend has talked me into going to a ridiculously early Boot Camp class at the gym.   It's on Monday mornings and, without fail, Tuesday morning I wake up sore.  Sometimes it's my legs, sometimes it's my arms, sometimes it's my abs, sometimes it's a combination of all of these.
Today is no different.

However, as much as I'm grunting and groaning and struggling to move without pain, I secretly love it.  You see, I love it because it means I've done something.  It means I've worked hard.  It means that, while I'd rather be sleeping, I dragged my carcass out of bed anyway.

So, while the pain has made my Tuesday rowing class much harder than it used to be, I still love it.  I love knowing that I've worked hard.  I love knowing that my muscles are changing and getting stronger every day.  So, bring on the pain!