The Other Six Days of the Week

So this is where I fail. I am great at being 90% and do the other 10% so badly that the 90% doesn’t stand a chance.

I eat well all day just to crash in the evening and eat those chocolate chips I said no to 50 times earlier in the day.

I bump up my workout and can’t seem to help but scarf that monster cookie after my run.

Just because I did a weight workout and can tolerate a few more carbs – does that really mean I should eat 17 sushi rolls?

So clearly food is my issue but sometimes when that gets bad I move to alcohol or caffeine so that’s cool. We have a tendency to think that it’s all about choice and “will power.” That if you f*ck it up, it’s because you’re weak.

Turns out that’s not exactly the case. Will power functions like a muscle. It will fatigue. It needs rest and rejuvenation. That’s why I say “no” in the morning but “I’ll have another” in the evening. It’s something called decision fatigue if you want to nerd up on it a bit.

But here’s the deal – if you’re stressed out, good luck. You’re going into the fight tired. If you have a candy dish/pack of cigarettes/fast food adjacent office/beer in the fridge – that sh*t is gonna happen.

One bit of advice I like is to make as many decisions in advance as possible. Decide your workouts for the week at the beginning of the week, not the day of. I’m most consistent with the workouts that I schedule to meet friends for in part because in my mind it’s already a done deal. Working out with a personal trainer of course means it’s scheduled and someone is expecting you so that’s a great thing to put in place.

Here’s the other way I like to use this (and don’t do enough). Make some absolute decisions. Like, “I don’t eat carbs,” “I’m not drinking for 30 days,” or “I will not work past 5:30 pm.” Deciding whether or not I can have a cookie and how many is a ton of decision making and it will go poorly at the end of the day. A yes/no decision is faster and clearer and it’s 100% clear when you’re in violation.

Dumb it down and make that will power muscle into a marathoner. Slower and steadier so you’ve got a little something left at mile 26.

If you're looking at me in this pic you're missing the sweet bootylicious point

Non-scale Victories

What do you count as a victory?  I am in a couple exercise social media support groups and we have what we call non-scale victories.  “What are non-scale victories?” you ask.  They can be many things; fitting into an old pair of pants that used to be too tight, being able to heft a large item you previously struggled with, finding that you have some newly noticed or acquired muscle definition.  All of these count!

One of my non-scale victories was this weekend.  I went out with some friends after work and we grabbed some drinks downtown.  I am a bathroom snob.  I really hate using public restrooms but when nature calls you answer.  Downtown is home to a lot of interesting places however as the night wears on the bathrooms become destroyed from fellow inebriated bathroom users.  The bathroom I chose was pretty destroyed.  There was mystery liquid on the floor and toilet paper strung around like streamers.  I really didn’t want to touch any surface in this particular restroom.  Ladies, you may be able to see what non-scale victory I am leading up to.

There was no way in hell I wanted my backside to touch that toilet seat.  I decided to do the dreaded hover.  Now gentlemen, you may think “Heck. That’s easy!  What is she complaining about?”  But I assure you, there are a lot of factors that go into a proper hover.  First off, you don’t want you pants touching the underside of the bowl!  Seriously, these were co-ed bathrooms and it looked like it.  Gentlemen, if you are too drunk to control your urine and are about to let loose like one of those crazy noodle sprinklers please do us ALL a favor and sit down.  Secondly, you have to be able to get back far enough to ensure you aren’t going to be contributing to the drip down the front problem you are trying to keep your pants out of.  Yes, it is true ladies.  Don’t do you your squats and you may be accidentally dribbling down the bowl front like the disgusting people before you.

Pretty sure these helped!

Now once you get into prime position you have to manage to actually hold it and relax enough to pee.  Before regularly working out, my legs would start to burn shortly after establishing ideal formation.  About half way through my business I would be struggling to hold form and empty my bladder simultaneously.  Trust me, you do not want an accidental touch down!

Well, I am proud to announce I was able to hold alpha hover formation and empty my whole bladder.  There was no wobbly legs or fear of touch down.  My hover was solid.  Just in the nick of time too since it’s rapidly approaching summer.  That means an increase of charity and fun runs, concerts and other activities with questionable bathroom facilities.

So even if they are little or weird or not socially acceptable take time to appreciate your non-scale victories!

Positive Directions

So last week it was pinch time.  You know, the awesome time where they pinch your skin and see how much fat you have in there.  As much as I dislike the whole process I still seem to have some sort of sick fascination in wanting to know where I am.  I will be honest with you, it makes the even the most body confident/comfortable person cringe.  It’s putting yourself out there in a very emotionally vulnerable position.  But to the pinch defense it gives information you wouldn’t otherwise know, it’s a relatively short process, and no one is paying attention but you and your trainer.  I try and go to my happy place and ignore it.  Of course, I then try to act only mildly interested once all the data is collected and evaluated.

All my hard work in the kitchen paid off these last few weeks!  I am happy to announce the numbers that we wanted down, went down and the numbers we wanted up, went up!!  Best.  Feeling.  Ever.
This whole thing is a journey.  I was in relatively fit shape when I began this whole process.  I think the fact that I am not trying to diet to lose weight is what blows the most minds.  I am eating a diet to build muscle.  You have to feed those muscles if you want them to grow and apparently it’s a pain in the butt to balance.

Here are some of the things that I find are working for me.

8 g of protein and they taste awesome!

•  Find a food combo that works and stick to it!!!  For me my snack every work day is cottage cheese and later yogurt.  Yogurt is like my afternoon sweets craving replacement.  I drink a protein shake either in the AM (if I am on my way to the gym in a hurry) or at night (after training or a run session).  I then try and fill in around those what else I need.  It works don’t rock the boat.
• Plan ahead, even though it sucks.  I am thinking about my whole day’s food before I even get started with the day.  For me starting with dinner and planning around it is best.  Dinner is a family experience and if I account for a piece of cake for dessert then I can eat it without tanking the whole day.  But ONLY if I plan for it.
• Get a trainer and see them at least once a week.  You think you can do it on your own but unless you have crazy good impulse control you won’t.  If you see them less than once a week you will find it easier to cheat and fall off the wagon.  You won’t have the same level of another person counting on you to do the right thing.  Plus, they are great resource to learn how to do new exercises, make adjustments to current exercises to make them more effective/comfortable, food suggestions, push your preconceived boundaries of what you are capable of,  and someone who will not take it personal when you give them legit stink face.
• Pack your things.  Pack your gym bag and have it ready and by the door the next day.  I am at the gym at 6 AM two days a week.  I *have* to have everything packed and planned down to my underwear and socks.  If I oversleep or drag my feet for 5 minutes my whole morning will be rushed.  My gym clothes are laid out in a particular order, my bags are packed and I allot myself a little more time for a relaxed transition into the land of the living. 
•  Everything in its place.  For me any tiny little trip up will bust the door wide open for an excuse.  I can’t find my running shoes.  Where did I put my headphones?  The liners in all my sports bras are wrinkled and need to be straightened.  I can’t find my favorite shorts.  My shaker cup is dirty.  Shoes are always together in their spot.  I try to straighten the bra situation before they get put in the drawer.  Headphones are zipped in the running belt.  Any little thing I can do ahead of time to save me when I feel like I have no time.
• Talk to your partner about your goals.  They will play a huge part in success and probably unbeknownst to them.  Usually they want to help but they don’t know how.  For me it’s food.  I need to know what our dinner plan is so I can plan my day around it.  Or if we have no planned dinner I have these parameters that I can eat in will you help me figure it out. 

All of this is STILL a process.  I still fail.  I still get mad.  Occasionally I eat my feelings. But I am trying REALLY hard to do better.  And little by little I am getting there.  

Temptations.

In my office we do lunch out occasionally.  This lunch out I bumped into temptation.

We were at Marche on campus when I saw her.  She was beautiful.  The complexion of ripe wheat and a top of sunshine yellow.  She was the embodiment of all that is cheerful.  I wanted her.

There wasn’t much separating the two of us, just a thin piece of glass.  She could have easily been mine.  All it would of taken is one little sentence and we could be together.  Would a few minutes of pure bliss be worth trashing my hard work, my goals, my commitments?  I could consume her whole in a matter of minutes and bask in the afterglow.  But then guilt would creep in.  The backsliding would begin.  That smooth milk chocolate colored beauty behind the case would be my next desire.  It doesn’t end.  Not until the sun dies and rises on the next day and I wake with the renewed reminder of my end goals.

It was plain to see my desire to possess her on my face.  I was staring openly and I did not care.  She was so beautiful.

As much as I wanted to take her outside with me I resisted.  It wouldn’t be fair to her or myself.  I wouldn’t be able to treat her with the time she deserved.  And I would be stuck with a belly full of regrets.  Sure, at the time I wouldn’t care about the future but what about those commitments and goals?

I managed to control my impulse that day.  It was not easy to walk away.  When I bused my table after lunch I stopped to admire her delicious curves for a little while longer.  I almost buckled but somehow I resisted.  That lemon tart was the most beautiful thing I have seen.  Maybe someday we can be together but not on a whim.  I have to plan be diligent and make it special.

I hope someone appreciates you the way you deserve my lovely lemon tart.

Choose your pack wisely

The sweet booty pack!!

So if the people you identify as friends are obese then you are more likely to be obese. Same goes for the other end of the scale. Social habits are contagious! So take a good look around and see who is impacting you, and whom you are impacting.

The study suggests that in this case it’s about norming a larger body size. And it also doesn’t matter where they live, if they are important to you they will change your reality and the way you see the world. Besides, just because you can’t hit a fast food joint with them doesn’t mean they aren’t texting you a picture of the triple fatty fat burger they just ordered and influencing you that way!

Here’s the way I see it. If I hang out with people with good habits, they invite me to do things that are good for me. If I Facebook my sister and she’s headed out to train for another ultra marathon, then I’m thinking about running and exercise and am primed to make healthier choices.

In my time as a counselor and my time analyzing human behavior as a marketing professional I have not seen anything more powerful at impacting behavior than the pack you’re running in. Humans are social creatures and we are built to function in a social environment and to preserve our place in that pack. Conformity to group norms is how you stay part of a group. Some groups allow a lot of leeway before they kick you out and others require strict adherence.

So my primary packs are work, family/close friends and my community. I telecommute for work but there’s definitely an impact (mostly in my drinking and compulsive eating habits). My dad’s maniac-level of physical activity definitely impacted my sister and we all tend to want to do physical activities together. My community is a drinking club with a running problem. https://sites.google.com/site/eugenehasher/ Thus I drink a lot and thankfully run a lot! When I try and cut back on the drinking, temptation is everywhere! Even if the group supports my decision (they love a designated driver), the delicious beverage of the moment is staring me in the face. But then again, I have never run so much even in the crappy dark rain of winter.

So the lesson of the day for me is: check out your partner, your family and close friends and your community. Do you want to be like them? I hope so because you already are!

Now where are my new big bosomed best friends? I gotta get these Bs up to Cs! (Just kidding, I know my boobs are already perfect).

Only social pressure would make me do something like this!

In the words of the one and only glorious Freddie Mercury, 

"Fat bottomed girls make the rockin' world go round"

Yup, This is true.  I watched a documentary on what makes women attractive on a subconscious level and the first thing is a symmetrical face, followed very closely by figure. Very specifically wide hips & butt and a narrow waist. It is the easiest visual representation of health in a woman. Well I totally have wide hips and a big butt, so I should be maxed out on the attractiveness scale right? Nope.  I've had an office job for 15 years, bend at the knees to pick things up, and had never done anything more than a body weight squat (incorrectly) prior to coming to Mike.

The first time I came into see Mike, his obsession with glutes had me floored.  What is this dude talking about? and why doesn't he say butt? booty? rump? I've known plenty of butt guys in my life and I have never heard "look at the glutes on her"   Why does he have to be so technical? Is he a butt guy or a doctor?  I'm so confused.

Having a nice butt is way more complex than being a fat bottomed girl.  Ive come to learn our glutes (OH look at me now, calling them glutes) have all sorts of important jobs.  For me superficially I really just want a nice butt, but if you read my previous post, I also NEED strong glutes to support my poor little noodle spine.  I have come to expect that when I meet with Mike I am going to receive an ass-whoopin.  Literally & Figuratively.  It seems in this new world of fitness I am venturing into glutes are gold.   We also see this in Hollywood, but more the "appearance of glutes".    Kim Kardashian, Amber Rose, Nikki Minaj --Lets just be really honest their butts are hideous.  Compared to the glutes of women who regularly weight train, there are stark differences.

I think I want the easy way.  I wish it was as easy as a butt implant or a 30 day squat challenge.  After a 30 day challenge I'm still just a fat bottom girl.  The deeper my goals grow inside me, I'm realizing I actually want to be a fit bottomed girl.

Exciting!

There are a few things that get me really excited; baby animals, free stuff, awesome sales, cake (really any bakery good), finding money in my pocket, to name a few.  I found another thing that makes me very excited.  Seeing more muscle definition! 

The first time this ever happened was after I started running regularly.  It was an odd way to realize the newly visible muscles.  I was getting up off the toilet and thought “OMG where did that muscle come from?!” (in my leg).  I then spent some extra time admiring my newly discovered muscle.  I fell off the running wagon for a while and the muscle wasn’t as prominent and I noticed that made me a little sad.

Now that I have been working with Mike there is a lot more muscle definition I am noticing.  It’s probably subtle that no one else is really going to notice.  Mike can see some change but I think he has a competitive edge of what he is looking for.  It is really noticeable when I am at the gym lifting those dreaded heavy items.  I have noticed it in some of the pictures I have posted.  It makes me excited. 

I think the part of my body that will stay stubborn to the end is going to be my stomach.  The kangaroo pooch feels justified in staying right where it is.  Yea, yea, abs are made in the kitchen but so are brownies.  You see the dilemma.   I am still striving towards success in the eating aspect of my goals but it is HARD.  There is now way to fluff that and make it pretty.  I guess if all this were easy everyone would do it.

Now, if you excuse me, I am going to go admire my new found muscles in the mirror.  

How bad does it have to hurt?

Why do you work out?  No, seriously.  What does it take for you?  Let me share my story as to how I found my way to a personal trainer.  I have always been a little bit fat, I guess I kind'ove liked it that way.  It gave me something to obsess about. I was uncomfortable, but acclimated to my body.  


Until the day everything changed "little" old, 220 lbs of me is driving down Coburg road when I am side swiped by an SUV.  I went through months and months of rehab for my spinal cord injury.  My legs were constantly numb, the pain was unbearable.  Four months of laying around crying, eating only Vicodin for the physical pain and sugar for the emotional pain.  It never once occurred to me that my physical state was a catalyst to the severity of my injuries. 

My injuries were not fatal, but I would have rather they been.  I had fully lost my body.  I lost my ability to walk without hand rails, I had lost control over my hormones, my metabolism, my ability to use the bathroom without help.  I was no longer capable of truly being a wife, a mother, I had fully lost myself.  

So, I got up and ran.  I cried through the whole mile, which mostly consisted of limping.  I'm sure the neighbors thought I was practicing some sort of swag flow, but that was just how I walked.  I felt like I would rather die trying to get better, than die everyday waiting for the doctors to fix me.  I wanted someone to fix me.  The doctor, the food, the Vicodin.  

One day I just woke up and realized I didn't want to live like this.

Now I understand that maybe it might not seem as severe for you from the outside.  Maybe you can walk.  Maybe you are barely overweight or just a little bit soft, but we don't start searching out help because things are okay.  I wasn't okay.  Something inside me knew, that I had to regain my power.  Seeing a trainer is more than having abs.  A trainer is about making a commitment to saving yourself.  Sometimes you have to let go and follow someone in order to regain your control.  I need someone to guide me, not someone to fix me.    

We are all scared to come in for the first time, but it is worth it.  My accident was a few years ago now.  The doctors told me they couldn't help me, but Mike was optimistically excited to help me. We assessed my weaknesses, and started building from there.  There would be well known body builders squatting a semi truck next to me and it didn't matter, because I was proud of myself.  Today I can hike, run, squat with minimal resistance. Losing 50 lbs, feels like a bonus.  The most important part of my journey is when my family says "I love who you are when you are going to the gym"

If you are lost or in pain, physically or emotionally the first thing I suggest to everyone is a trainer.  Are you ready to change?  Are you done suffering?  I was.

I regained my backbone with fitness- both literally and figuratively. 

Breaking Point

I have touched on the topic of hurdles before and admitted that food is a huge tripping point for me.  I love food, mostly carb related things but also sugar.  I love chewing it, tasting it, consuming in mass quantities it, I just love it.  Clearly my love has its limits.  I don’t really enjoy meat or vegetables.  My comfort foods are bread, pasta, cereal and potatoes.

At the gym this week I reached an emotional breaking point.  I had felt like I was doing OK with my food.  Granted, some days I would slip up a little more than other days, I honestly felt like it was all OK.  Unfortunately, there was no positive move in my measurements for the week.  They went in the WRONG direction.  What was I supposed to say?  I broke and cried at Mike.  I didn’t want to.  I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes just waiting for the trigger from my brain to turn me into a red, splotchy, embarrassing mess.  I even had the pre-emptive quiver lip, horrible right?

To be honest with myself at this point, I hated eating.  I hate salads, they leave me unfulfilled.  And chewing through one of those damn things is the most disgusting thing possible.  I feel like a discontent stegosaurus chomping through all those bitter leaves.  I felt hungry all the time.  I rarely came remotely close to my protein goal (which would explain the hunger).  If you are curious to what the cry trigger was it was to announce out loud what I had come to discover, “I hate eating now”.


Fortunately, Mike is a strong man and didn’t wilt under the frightening sight of crying female.  At least not outwardly.  I can only imagine it was an uncomfortable position to be in but he didn’t show it.  We moved on from the measurements to get a workout in and discuss what CAN I do and where is the silver lining.  I can still eat carbs and sweets just not in mass quantities.  I am going to have to be more calculated and cunning in getting them in my diet.  I don’t have to eat salads, perhaps reduce the leaf amount some and try them in a wrap.  Protein is going to have to come from somewhere.  Dairy, meat, jerky (I know technically meat), protein powder, fish, nuts (although high in fat so be careful) and any combination there-of.

It’s hard to get your dietary list and your personal list to match up sometimes.  We get busy, we get stressed, we get careless and make excuses.  Sometimes we eat our feelings, we eat to celebrate, we eat to mourn, we eat when we are bored, we just eat.

I have went three days and managed to get my macros within two grams either direction of my goal amount.  This is monumental for me.  I will be trying to plan my days out ahead of time to make sure I have room for that bowl of pasta at dinner or that Cadbury egg after lunch.  Not every day will be a success (birthday cake is happening tonight, sorry Mike).  There will be slips, falls and full on face plants but I will keep on trying.  And hopefully no more crying at the gym.

***I just passed up free chocolate handouts at the office!!  Feel free to praise me!!***

Ode to the Gym

I haven't written poetry in many, many years.  Recently joking around at work, my friend issued a challenge; write a poetry blog entry around the gym.  I take my issued challenges very seriously.  The rules of the challenge where simple; write a poem in rhyming format regarding the gym/working out.  Rhyming?  Dang it.  But I accepted my rhyming fate and did my best.  You will find this is much different than the angsty teenage written poetry of my youth.  I decided to up the ante a bit and also throw in a Haiku.  I hope that you enjoy.

First up the Haiku -


Lift, squat, pull, press, jump.
My body cries sweaty tears.
Muscles amazing.

TA DA!  You are amazed with my sweet, sweet words of poetry, yes?

And now to fulfill the obligations of the challenge.....

Ode to the Gym

Head to the gym,
Not on a whim.
To huff and puff,
And look real tough.
Push-ups, box jumps, dips and curls,
All concoctions to make your hurl.
Triceps, biceps, lats and delts,
Work them hard and feel real svelt.
Grimace and groan,
Can I go home?
Just stop your bitchin’
Feel muscles twitchin’.
It doesn’t take long,
To feel so strong.
Hamstrings, calves, quads and glutes,
Please no more bridges, I have the toots.
Sweat, swear, grimace and pant,
You’re almost done, there is no “can’t”.
Final set, last rep.
Thank heaven!   I’m out of pep.
Muscles weak, tired, depleted,
Don’t think about this, repeated.
Take your well-earned shower,
Stretch it out for half an hour.
Tonight you will sleep like the dead,
Two days out, your legs feel like lead.
Never be afraid to improve,
Just remember to do it for you.


I hope you enjoyed this trip into poetry and the gym!

Why do my arms do that?!

I am pretty sure I have touched on my grace and poise in previous blog posts, the fact that I have none.  Having both feet leave the floor at one time seems to be a terrible idea.  I do not jump.  I have no desire to jump and really is there a reason should I be jumping? 

This is what I envision.

This week Mike has decided it is time that we push the boundaries of my self-imposed limitations.  He has requested box jumps.  I can tell he is trying to wean me on to them.  He pulls out a little step “Look, that isn’t so high!  You can totally do that!”  I skeptically look at the step, “I can do it.  I don’t want to.”  I did it because he asked really nicely.  And then the box got a little higher and a little higher.  During this exercise it becomes glaringly obvious that I do not jump on things.  Can I jump straight up like a bad ass?  Oh no, that will not do.  I have to do some weird little fluttery, fairy, girl thing with my arms.  It’s uncontrollable.  Please arms stop doing that, we don’t look cool now!

The entire time I am doing this I have this nightmarish flash of what would happen should I not get my feet high enough.  My toes would get caught on the edge of the box, sending me ass over tea kettle.  Mike is thoughtful (brave) enough to stand in front of the box should this happen.  Maybe it’s the subconscious motivation I need to really focus on my feet so that way I don’t go careening through Mike like the Kool-Aid man.

What did I enjoy this week training?  Skipping!  I realize both feet are technically off the ground at same time but they don’t start that way.  It’s a slight but very important technicality.  These were big, happy, bounds.  Arms swinging away with the childish abandon.  No one would look at me skipping and think “What the hell are her arms doing?” unlike box jumps. I don’t know that it would be possible to frown through this exercise. 

As you can see the gym is definitely a love hate relationship some days.  I hate box jumps and most other jumping.  But I do love skipping.  I hate getting sweaty but I do enjoy the feeling that I did something productive.  Find what you love and enjoy in the things that you dislike and cling to them.  They will help pull you through on the days when you rather be in your fat sweats plowing through a gallon of ice cream and a Netflix marathon.  

Sweating, butt cramps, and accomplishments.

Have you ever noticed when you are out exercising that there are different types of sweaters?  Some people seem to barely have a sheen of sweat coating their brow while other’s look like they are crawling out of a dunk tank.  I usually sweat but not in copious amounts.  It isn’t hugely noticeable unless you are looking at my pits (which is just gross.  Stop looking at my pits).  The exception to this rule is when I am at the gym with Mike.  Maybe it’s a personal challenge to see how much sweat I can produce or maybe seeing what shapes he can make out of the sweat splotches on my clothes.  Oooo that one looks like a unicorn!

Should you ever hear Mike exclaim “Oh, I have a great exercise!” and look really excited, you should be afraid.  This week’s torture contestant was my buttocks.  The combination was resistance bands and various bridges.  Sure, the first one or two are OK but let me be clear after five they get significantly less OK.  I got the most wicked Charlie horse in my butt cheeks, dual cheekage.  These exercises made me sweaty and swear a lot.  The swearing in my mind of course because I was too out of breath to enunciate clearly, like a lady.

I considered, briefly, giving up and accepting the fate of pancake butt. You know the type of rear that is so flat and kind of floppy, just like a pancake!  However, I managed to persevere.  I realize it was only one round of butt torture but I am further away from pancake butt.

We rounded out the evening making sure to tackle the ab region.  Do you know what ball passes are?  It’s where you take that giant bouncy ball (swiss ball) and pass it from feet to hands and touch the ground.   Then you go the other way hands to feet.  That counts as one.  I have tried to explain how this should really count as two but my words are lost quickly on loud exhales.  I.  Hate.  Ball.  Passes.

As much as it pains me to say it, the ball passes must be working (I can see Mike’s triumphant smile now) because I have never in my life been able to do a headstand, ever.  This weekend I was trying to show the kids how to set up for a headstand and I magically found that I could do one (sorta)!  My legs do not go straight up and I can’t hold for too long but by golly it’s a headstand!

I will forever HATE ball passes but I will give them (grudgingly) credit, dang it.