Boy, that 0.4 really messed with my head! I've been slacking. Haven't tracked what I've been eating since that weigh-in day and exercise has been minimal at best. Granted, there's a bunch of soot and ash floating around in the air outside and it looks like we live on the Red Planet right now, so that's hindered exercise a bit. But mainly, I'm having a mental block.
So easy to slip with this whole weight battle. Too easy. Got caught up in the moment and lost sight of the big picture for a bit. And then the rest of it comes...started to get anxious about the next weigh-in, convincing myself that I'm gonna gain. So mental! If it were just about the weight, we'd all be fine.
Anyhow, I'm getting back on track. Gotta leave yesterday right where it is and keep going.
10.25.2007
10.17.2007
Day Four Hundred Seventy-Three
Found myself on the sands of Manhattan Beach last night, which isn't unusual. This summer we spent a lot of time at the beach, both for fitness work and playtime. And even as the days grow shorter, I've been going out to watch Jon play volleyball with this new group he's met. What was different yesterday was the mental battle that resulted in me playing beach volleyball for the first time ever.
Having spent most of my life on the sidelines because of weight and insecurity issues, I've become accustomed to "watching." In junior high school, I went to dances and sporting events just to watch, never participating. Friends joined cheerleading, got into sports, performed on stage...I watched. I've always settled into the supporting role.
Yesterday Jon mentioned that a group of non-regular volleyball players would be joining his group for one night. I was invited to come down to practice. And I was actually excited about it. But as soon as we hit the sand, the battle began. All the worries of inconveniencing someone, screwing up the game, looking like an idiot...it was all there. If I had paid more attention to what was going on, I would have seen that no one out there really knew how to play. They were just having fun. But I couldn't get past the anxiety.
Jon headed over to join in the game and I moved to that court to - once again - watch. As I sat there, I realized I probably looked more like an idiot sitting on the sidelines than I would if I just jumped in. So after that game ended, I joined in for the last two. And much to my surprise, I wasn't half bad! Worked on some drills with one of the regulars, who is incredibly encouraging. I really had a great time.
On the way home, I was explaining to Jon how difficult it is to break through these walls...experience all the "firsts." My fears and lack of confidence have always led me to sit it out when faced with something new. So each new thing seems like walking up a steep hill. If I look back at previous entries, I'm sure I can read about the anxiety of walking the bike path, the anxiety of starting to run, the anxiety of wearing my first new bathing suit in over fifteen years. But I will also read about conquering each of those fears, so I know volleyball is no different.
I'm trying to remind myself to view new things as opportunities to grow, not chances to fail. It's a daily struggle, but at least I'm thinking about it now, instead of pushing it all aside.
Having spent most of my life on the sidelines because of weight and insecurity issues, I've become accustomed to "watching." In junior high school, I went to dances and sporting events just to watch, never participating. Friends joined cheerleading, got into sports, performed on stage...I watched. I've always settled into the supporting role.
Yesterday Jon mentioned that a group of non-regular volleyball players would be joining his group for one night. I was invited to come down to practice. And I was actually excited about it. But as soon as we hit the sand, the battle began. All the worries of inconveniencing someone, screwing up the game, looking like an idiot...it was all there. If I had paid more attention to what was going on, I would have seen that no one out there really knew how to play. They were just having fun. But I couldn't get past the anxiety.
Jon headed over to join in the game and I moved to that court to - once again - watch. As I sat there, I realized I probably looked more like an idiot sitting on the sidelines than I would if I just jumped in. So after that game ended, I joined in for the last two. And much to my surprise, I wasn't half bad! Worked on some drills with one of the regulars, who is incredibly encouraging. I really had a great time.
On the way home, I was explaining to Jon how difficult it is to break through these walls...experience all the "firsts." My fears and lack of confidence have always led me to sit it out when faced with something new. So each new thing seems like walking up a steep hill. If I look back at previous entries, I'm sure I can read about the anxiety of walking the bike path, the anxiety of starting to run, the anxiety of wearing my first new bathing suit in over fifteen years. But I will also read about conquering each of those fears, so I know volleyball is no different.
I'm trying to remind myself to view new things as opportunities to grow, not chances to fail. It's a daily struggle, but at least I'm thinking about it now, instead of pushing it all aside.
10.16.2007
Day Four Hundred Seventy-Two
Z turned three years old yesterday and we celebrated by...what else? EATING! Actually, we took him to Disneyland for the day, got him his own annual pass, watched as he gave Mickey a kiss on the nose, rode a few rides and picked up some gifts. But yes, there was a fair amount of food involved. This is a good opportunity to explain how the mind works regarding WW and making food choices. Let's recap the day, shall we?
Lunch was at Carnation Cafe. Seeing how I knew we'd be splurging for dinner, I kept it light. Half of a smoked turkey sandwich, no mayo, a cup of vegetable soup and some of Zaya's carrots.
Later in the day, we headed over to California Adventure and straight to the Mission Tortilla Factory. For those who don't know, it's a working factory that produces fresh tortillas daily. Sometimes corn, sometimes flour (mmmmm). You can take a mini-tour and pick up a free, warm, yummy tortilla on your way out. The secret is that on your birthday, you get a whole package of free tortillas! And yesterday was FLOUR DAY!! Despite the fact that I wanted to eat the whole bag, I just had one.
Then came dinner, our first visit ever to Goofy's Kitchen. Did I mention it's a BUFFET? Didn't know that when we got there, but that was not a problem for us. Let the sampling begin! Started with broccoli salad with balsamic vinaigrette and feta cheese, wild rice salad with corn and black bean soup. Continued on to the chicken and pesto pizza, shrimp-stuffed sole, chicken breast, garlic mashed potatoes, prime rib, pork loin and a taste of tortellini alfredo. And what birthday would be complete without the sweet stuff...chocolate caramel tart, chocolate chip cookie pizza, tiramisu, and chocolate caramel eclairs.
Here is the beauty of WW. While it may sound like I gorged myself, I really just had a few bites of each item. Enough to taste and really appreciate the flavor of the food without overdoing it. It was a lot of fun. Jim has talked about buffets before and we've discussed how scary they can be for those who struggle with their weight. But they're nothing to be afraid of. I feel great that I got to taste so many wonderful things and leave without feeling a hint of guilt. Sure, I'll probably step up the exercise this week, but I'm not worried about it.
Happy Birthday, Z, my big beautiful preemie boy. I love you.
Lunch was at Carnation Cafe. Seeing how I knew we'd be splurging for dinner, I kept it light. Half of a smoked turkey sandwich, no mayo, a cup of vegetable soup and some of Zaya's carrots.
Later in the day, we headed over to California Adventure and straight to the Mission Tortilla Factory. For those who don't know, it's a working factory that produces fresh tortillas daily. Sometimes corn, sometimes flour (mmmmm). You can take a mini-tour and pick up a free, warm, yummy tortilla on your way out. The secret is that on your birthday, you get a whole package of free tortillas! And yesterday was FLOUR DAY!! Despite the fact that I wanted to eat the whole bag, I just had one.
Then came dinner, our first visit ever to Goofy's Kitchen. Did I mention it's a BUFFET? Didn't know that when we got there, but that was not a problem for us. Let the sampling begin! Started with broccoli salad with balsamic vinaigrette and feta cheese, wild rice salad with corn and black bean soup. Continued on to the chicken and pesto pizza, shrimp-stuffed sole, chicken breast, garlic mashed potatoes, prime rib, pork loin and a taste of tortellini alfredo. And what birthday would be complete without the sweet stuff...chocolate caramel tart, chocolate chip cookie pizza, tiramisu, and chocolate caramel eclairs.
Here is the beauty of WW. While it may sound like I gorged myself, I really just had a few bites of each item. Enough to taste and really appreciate the flavor of the food without overdoing it. It was a lot of fun. Jim has talked about buffets before and we've discussed how scary they can be for those who struggle with their weight. But they're nothing to be afraid of. I feel great that I got to taste so many wonderful things and leave without feeling a hint of guilt. Sure, I'll probably step up the exercise this week, but I'm not worried about it.
Happy Birthday, Z, my big beautiful preemie boy. I love you.
10.12.2007
Day Four Hundred Sixty-Eight
Was talking to G yesterday about self-image. I mentioned to him, as I have to other men I know, that guys just seem to "know" they are attractive. Whether it's a defense mechanism to shield their own insecurities or a downright cocky attitude, guys always appear to be better at projecting a confident self-image.
His response was, "If enough people tell you that you're attractive, you start to believe it's true." Which I found interesting because I think for many women (myself included), it's much different. I told him that when girls hear compliments they think people are just being nice, not wanting to hurt their feelings with what they really think. To which G replied, "That's BS!" And then he asked me very plainly, "Surely you don't still think that, right?"
Which got me to thinking. What DO I really think about myself at this point? It's obviously not the same self-image I had fifty pounds ago. But it's also not the level of confidence I hope to eventually achieve. Some days I look in the mirror and marvel at the difference in my body. Other days, it seems I'm only able to see the flaws and the road still left ahead of me. I told G it's a process and I'm waiting for my mind to catch up to my body.
I take comfort from a story that Jim at WW told us about his wife after she met her weight loss goal. He had bought her a dress to show off her new figure and was excited to give it to her. She went to the bedroom to try it on and he heard sobs coming from the room. When he went in to see what was wrong, she was wearing the dress and through her tears told her husband "I look fat." She had lost 75 pounds but standing in front of that mirror all she could see was her old body. Jim said it took about a year for her "mental weight-loss" to catch up with the physical.
At the end of my conversation with G, I told him I really am happy because there's no denying the progress I've made. I accepted a challenge from myself and I've already won. As Mama pointed out, she sees the progress just in the fact that I can refer to myself as beautiful, albeit "a beautiful mess." That's definitely a big step in the right direction. And the rest of the steps, whether they're baby steps or long strides, are all part of the journey.
His response was, "If enough people tell you that you're attractive, you start to believe it's true." Which I found interesting because I think for many women (myself included), it's much different. I told him that when girls hear compliments they think people are just being nice, not wanting to hurt their feelings with what they really think. To which G replied, "That's BS!" And then he asked me very plainly, "Surely you don't still think that, right?"
Which got me to thinking. What DO I really think about myself at this point? It's obviously not the same self-image I had fifty pounds ago. But it's also not the level of confidence I hope to eventually achieve. Some days I look in the mirror and marvel at the difference in my body. Other days, it seems I'm only able to see the flaws and the road still left ahead of me. I told G it's a process and I'm waiting for my mind to catch up to my body.
I take comfort from a story that Jim at WW told us about his wife after she met her weight loss goal. He had bought her a dress to show off her new figure and was excited to give it to her. She went to the bedroom to try it on and he heard sobs coming from the room. When he went in to see what was wrong, she was wearing the dress and through her tears told her husband "I look fat." She had lost 75 pounds but standing in front of that mirror all she could see was her old body. Jim said it took about a year for her "mental weight-loss" to catch up with the physical.
At the end of my conversation with G, I told him I really am happy because there's no denying the progress I've made. I accepted a challenge from myself and I've already won. As Mama pointed out, she sees the progress just in the fact that I can refer to myself as beautiful, albeit "a beautiful mess." That's definitely a big step in the right direction. And the rest of the steps, whether they're baby steps or long strides, are all part of the journey.
10.09.2007
Ten
In all the disappointment of my weigh-in weekend, I failed to mention that just the day before I had made a quick trip to Target and purchased a pair of well-fitting size 10 Mossimo jeans. This may not seem all that news-worthy to most, until you realize that I began this journey at a size 20. I think the last time I fit into a size 10 was probably at about the age of...10! Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating. But trust me, it was a long time ago.
Considering that all along I've imagined I would end up at a size 8, I'm a pretty happy gal. So long 20...
Considering that all along I've imagined I would end up at a size 8, I'm a pretty happy gal. So long 20...
Day Four Hundred Sixty-Five
There are days when I just want to jump into a vat of chocolate fondue and drink myself to death.
This is one of those days.
This is one of those days.
10.06.2007
Day 462 - Weigh In
You think by now I'd know to expect the unexpected. But today I was looking for something. Something specific. I was four tenths of a pound away from a total weight loss of 50 pounds. FIVE-OH! That's big to me. It's those round numbers that seem to validate all the smaller numbers that came before them, for some reason. Most weeks I walk into weigh-in having no clue what the scale will say. But today, I just knew it was going to reveal a milestone.
Instead, Jim looked at the digital display and said with a lilt in his voice, "You stayed the same." WHAT?!?!?! "No change. Still 163.8, you're down a total of 49.6." I don't know what my face did but my heart sunk. It wasn't like I was looking to make my goal this week, I just wanted that four tenths! I was doing exactly what WW recommends...set small, achievable goals and celebrate them along the way. I think most would agree that four tenths is small by any measure. And I was pretty sure it was achievable. But apparently not today.
What made it harder was that others were expecting it, too. Jon and I talked about it on and off throughout the past week. He and Zaya came to the meeting with me today and he brought the camera to capture my reaction. We had planned on staying after weigh in for the meeting. But everything changed in a quick second. I knew I couldn't stay because I could feel my face getting flushed and the tears welling up already. We got to the car and I lost it, fell into Jon's arms crying as if someone had just run over my puppy or something.
Was it really just that tiny fraction of a stupid pound that devastated me? No, of course not. It's never that simple. As I've indicated in recent posts there's a lot going on in our lives. Some of it's good, some of it's not, most of it is stressful. The past week held a lot of anxiety for me and I think I had been looking to weigh-in day as a light at the end of the tunnel. As I said to Jon in the car, "I needed it. I needed it today."
When I had composed myself we headed to the beach for Jon to play volleyball. The weather was amazing, the beach was virtually empty. I got in a volley workout and Zaya and I spent hours on the sand near the water finding shells, digging holes, splashing in the ocean. Then we headed to Jon's parents house to rest and decompress a bit. And just as unexpectedly as the morning began, the evening ended with an impromptu dinner out to celebrate Isaiah's birthday week.
So yes, it was a good day. Not the good I expected, but the good that was meant to be. I need to learn how to be more accepting of that. The glass is...more than half full. I may forget that sometimes, but it is.
Instead, Jim looked at the digital display and said with a lilt in his voice, "You stayed the same." WHAT?!?!?! "No change. Still 163.8, you're down a total of 49.6." I don't know what my face did but my heart sunk. It wasn't like I was looking to make my goal this week, I just wanted that four tenths! I was doing exactly what WW recommends...set small, achievable goals and celebrate them along the way. I think most would agree that four tenths is small by any measure. And I was pretty sure it was achievable. But apparently not today.
What made it harder was that others were expecting it, too. Jon and I talked about it on and off throughout the past week. He and Zaya came to the meeting with me today and he brought the camera to capture my reaction. We had planned on staying after weigh in for the meeting. But everything changed in a quick second. I knew I couldn't stay because I could feel my face getting flushed and the tears welling up already. We got to the car and I lost it, fell into Jon's arms crying as if someone had just run over my puppy or something.
Was it really just that tiny fraction of a stupid pound that devastated me? No, of course not. It's never that simple. As I've indicated in recent posts there's a lot going on in our lives. Some of it's good, some of it's not, most of it is stressful. The past week held a lot of anxiety for me and I think I had been looking to weigh-in day as a light at the end of the tunnel. As I said to Jon in the car, "I needed it. I needed it today."
When I had composed myself we headed to the beach for Jon to play volleyball. The weather was amazing, the beach was virtually empty. I got in a volley workout and Zaya and I spent hours on the sand near the water finding shells, digging holes, splashing in the ocean. Then we headed to Jon's parents house to rest and decompress a bit. And just as unexpectedly as the morning began, the evening ended with an impromptu dinner out to celebrate Isaiah's birthday week.
So yes, it was a good day. Not the good I expected, but the good that was meant to be. I need to learn how to be more accepting of that. The glass is...more than half full. I may forget that sometimes, but it is.
10.04.2007
Day Four Hundred Sixty-One
So Jon came home with this Pilates DVD from the library a few months ago and he's been following the exercises a couple of times a week. I had no interest in watching it, let alone trying it, so I wrote it off as another one of those things that just "wasn't me.""After ten sessions you'll notice a difference,
After twenty, other's will notice...,
After thirty you'll have a whole new body..."- Joseph Pilates
But as I get closer to my goal, I realize that just losing another eight pounds isn't gonna cut it for me. Quite frankly there's more than a bit of toning up that needs to be done. And I realized I want my whole body to be healthy. So I decided to give this Pilates thing a try.
When I told Jon I really wanted to put in some effort, he went back to the library and unknowingly came home with the very same DVD he had checked out before. I probably should have specified a BEGINNER level program, but I didn't think about it at the time. For two weeks I watched the "Hilary Burnett's Pilates Intermediate" disc sit on the shelf above the tv. Old Carrie would have let that thing sit another week until it was due and went back to the library. Wasn't like we paid for it or anything.
But this isn't old Carrie anymore. One day I finally picked up the disc, put it the the DVD player, pulled out a floor mat and followed the entire program. The first thing I learned is, pilates is no joke. There's some serious work involved. I had more sweat pouring off of me than I usually do during a beach run. What is described as "exercises powered by breath, flow and centering" feels more like getting hit in the stomach by a MAC truck. I also discovered that while my version of the workout may not have looked as graceful as Hilary Burnett's, it felt great to be engaging muscles that have received zero attention in the past.
Having done the workout a second time, I know something's happening. I don't know what the results will look like on me physically, but I want to stick with it to find out. Stay tuned...
10.03.2007
Apples
How sad is it that it took me this long to realize my blog template wasn't loading properly. The designer site I heisted it from doesn't even exist anymore! So, as you can see I've done a little housecleaning. Don't ask questions about the apples. Saw 'em. Liked 'em. They seem to fit here. 'Nuff said.
Oh and about that skinny picture over there...I can't seem to get it to fit correctly. But then who in their right mind is gonna argue about a skinny picture on a weight loss blog, right?
Oh and about that skinny picture over there...I can't seem to get it to fit correctly. But then who in their right mind is gonna argue about a skinny picture on a weight loss blog, right?
10.02.2007
Day Four Hundred Fifty-Nine
"I've started running." That's what I've been telling people who ask about how Weight Watchers is going. And it's half true - I have been running. It's another one of those things I never imagined I could do and now I'm doing it as a part of my commitment to fitness in year two. But recently I realized that the other half of that statement is false - "I've started." The fact is that emotionally speaking, I'm no stranger to running and I've been doing it most of my life.
About three months ago, Jon asked if I wanted to try jogging a portion of our usual beach run, and I decided to give it a shot. It wasn't a very organized thought and I didn't expect much to come of it, but with him there to pace me and set small, achievable goals, it worked. What started as a jog between lifeguard stations on the bike path has turned into running about half of our three mile course.
The physical act of running has pushed my mind as well as my body. The challenge is shaking things up, changing my physical expectations and forcing me to look inward even further than before. It's been a part of a shift that seems to be taking place in all aspects of my life...like a transition brought on by seven years of marriage, the responsibility of parenting an ENERGETIC (to say the least) almost-three-year-old, changing relationships and facing the unknowns of running a business. Let's just say things in our household have been...less than calm.
All of this has got me thinking about running and its purpose. Many would say it's a good form of exercise, a way to get your blood flowing and be refreshed by the air on your face. Running can also bring you to a destination or carry you away from somewhere you shouldn't (or don't want to) be. Most of my running has always taken place in my mind, motivated by fear. Running from what others will think or the possibility of disappointing someone. Running from the image of myself in my head. Running from.
I think this transition period is so difficult because it requires a complete turnaround. It's not easy to change the thirty year momentum of running away from the past into a brand new momentum of running toward my future. It involves admitting that I'm not in control, that I don't know what's around the next corner, or even where my very next step will lead. It involves admitting that I'm afraid, and learning to trust in God more than myself. Basically, it involves releasing the fears that have too easily become my security blanket.
So after losing 49.6 lbs and with about 8 more to go, I'll keep running. With hard work, the motivations will change and results will be defined. And along the way I'll realize that it's not a sprint, it's a marathon, meant to charge and strengthen, rebuild and renew.
About three months ago, Jon asked if I wanted to try jogging a portion of our usual beach run, and I decided to give it a shot. It wasn't a very organized thought and I didn't expect much to come of it, but with him there to pace me and set small, achievable goals, it worked. What started as a jog between lifeguard stations on the bike path has turned into running about half of our three mile course.
The physical act of running has pushed my mind as well as my body. The challenge is shaking things up, changing my physical expectations and forcing me to look inward even further than before. It's been a part of a shift that seems to be taking place in all aspects of my life...like a transition brought on by seven years of marriage, the responsibility of parenting an ENERGETIC (to say the least) almost-three-year-old, changing relationships and facing the unknowns of running a business. Let's just say things in our household have been...less than calm.
All of this has got me thinking about running and its purpose. Many would say it's a good form of exercise, a way to get your blood flowing and be refreshed by the air on your face. Running can also bring you to a destination or carry you away from somewhere you shouldn't (or don't want to) be. Most of my running has always taken place in my mind, motivated by fear. Running from what others will think or the possibility of disappointing someone. Running from the image of myself in my head. Running from.
I think this transition period is so difficult because it requires a complete turnaround. It's not easy to change the thirty year momentum of running away from the past into a brand new momentum of running toward my future. It involves admitting that I'm not in control, that I don't know what's around the next corner, or even where my very next step will lead. It involves admitting that I'm afraid, and learning to trust in God more than myself. Basically, it involves releasing the fears that have too easily become my security blanket.
So after losing 49.6 lbs and with about 8 more to go, I'll keep running. With hard work, the motivations will change and results will be defined. And along the way I'll realize that it's not a sprint, it's a marathon, meant to charge and strengthen, rebuild and renew.
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