Well, I didn't go to the gym today. I did go yesterday, though. I'm just wondering how to make sure I keep going to the gym without getting burnt out. So far the every other day thing seems to be working okay... I know I would probably get in better shape and lose weight faster if I went to the gym everyday and used the elliptical machine for an hour, but that is pretty unrealistic.
So yesterday when I went to the gym, I had a plan. My plan was to do 15-20 minutes on the elliptical machine, followed by about 15 minutes on the weight machines. Then I was going to swim (probably in the therapy pool) for another 20-30 minutes and finish off with a little dip in the hot tub to relax my muscles. I even packed a whole gym bag and everything--I had my bathing suit and goggles, and a change of clothes for after my shower, and even deodorant and a hairbrush (which I happened to forget the last time I actually went swimming).
Anyway, I get to the gym... I 'm doing the elliptical thing, and before I know it my 20 minutes is already over. I just didn't feel like that gave me enough of a workout, so I added on another 15 minutes. When that time was up I still felt relatively fresh... PLUS Extreme Makeover: Home Edition had just come on one of the big tvs hanging in the cardio area, and I am a sucker for that show...so I finally added on enough time to just give me my usual hour on the elliptical. By the time I finished I figured it would be overkill to go swimming. I probably could have done weights, but I don't like to do them when I'm excessively sweaty because I tend to leave (warning:TMI) sweaty butt prints on the seats. (Don't worry, I wipe them off... but still... ew.)
So that was my trip to the gym--an hour on the elliptical. I was still good and tired when I was done, but I need to try and actually stick to my plan next time... I need the variety, and need to work different sets of muscles. I do tend to like the cardio the most, though, because it is the quickest way to lose weight. However, I need to keep reminding myself that this isn't JUST about losing weight--it is about getting fit and healthy. (Plus I want to get toned). :)
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Mini-Meltdown
No gym for me today. Le sigh. I wanted to go swimming, and might have if it hadn't been for my midday mini-meltdown. I must preface this meltdown story with some information, lest you be totally confused: I was recently laid off from my job that I have had for not even a year. I was a costumed interpreter (I dressed in costume to talk to visitors) at the Frontier Culture Museum in Virginia. Well, due to the craptastic economy, there were massive state budget cuts, and almost all the hourly employees at the museum were laid off. Oh, woe is me. Anyway, I am also in the process of obtaining my secondary teaching license in English, and am taking classes through Mary Baldwin College. Part of one of my classes is a sixty hour practicum in which I observe and help out in a teacher's classroom. The semester started September first, and I STILL had not heard anything about my placement (other than "we're working on it"), even though I had turned in all my forms on time. I think that is enough info for my upcoming rant to make sense.
So, today: Shortly after I woke up this morning I received a call from the woman at the college who is working on my placement. She still had not heard from the school system which I had requested for my practicum, so she wanted to ask my permission to ask another school system nearby. (Why wait a FREAKING month and a half to ask me if it is okay to look elsewhere? I indicated on the request form that the school system she called me about was my second choice!). Anyway, I told her it was more than fine and we hung up.
Now, I have recently been diagnosed with ADD, and I have a hard time focusing on getting my school work done, but I had all sorts of grand plans about getting muy muy assignments done today--but I made the mistake of checking my e-mail after I got off the phone with practicum lady. Well, there I found an e-mail from a close girlfriend who lives halfway across the country from me, and she sounded so upset about things going on in her life that I had to immediately e-mail her back. I have a tendancy to write books instead of e-mails, and this turned into one. Her e-mail was about a lot of things, but the main subject was that she is not happy with her current job situation. Apparently she tends to work somewhere for a time and then get tired of it and want to move on... but she had only just started this job last year around this time. Well, in my e-mail I told her I know how she feels--I had not been at the museum for quite a year, but was beginning to get antsy. (Of course, if I hadn't been laid off I would have continued to work there until I got my teaching license, but eh). Writing the e-mail to her got me thinking not only about my job situation and that I should be looking for jobs, but also, about becoming a teacher. What if I teach for a year and then realize I hate it? What will I do if that happens?
You can probably see where this line of thought started to lead me... do I even have any skills? What can I really do with my English Lit degree besides teach? (By this time I was searching job websites). Why is the healthcare industry the only industry that seems to be hiring right now? Why do entry level jobs want the applicant to have 3-5 years of experience? Do I have to move to a big city to actually find a job besides teaching that will utilize my degree??? These thoughts are depressing, and they were running rampant today.
Of course, I don't really need a full-time, big impressive job right now, because in theory, I will be teaching in a year and a half to two years. So I finally found a local, part-time job to apply for that I am qualified to do. Kennel attendant at an animal hosptial. My first high school job was actually as a kennel attendant at the local SPCA, and very recently I have worked at a PetsMart as a bather in their grooming salon, so I thought I'd be a shoe-in if I applied.
I had to actually go to the animal hospital to get a hard copy of an application, and when I got there--get this--I had to wait because they had already run out of applications and the girl had gone to get more. Seriously. They ran out of kennel attendant applications. When she got back (luckily I only had to wait a couple of minutes) I decided to go ahead and fill the application out right there and get it overwith. While I was sitting there filling out my application, someone else walks in and asks for a kennel attendant application. No joke. I never knew that scooping up dog crap was such a popular occupation.
After I left I called my mom to tell her I had applied (I had talked to her about it earlier, and called her for the addresses of some references, since I don't generally carry that information around with me). What was just supposed to be a short conversation ended up as a rant, with me in tears while trying to drive back home. It isn't my mom's fault, of course. She was being wonderful and supportive. I just, for some reason, was overcome by this massive wave of self-pity, and began ranting about: --Why did I even go to college, anyway? I just applied for a job a high school kid could do--and it was the only job that I could find locally that I am qualified to do! I'm sorry I wasted your money with college!-- I got myself all worked up, and got my mom worried. I feel bad now because our convo somehow morphed into how she doesn't know what it is like to be poor since she and dad have (since I've been alive, anyway) always lived in nice houses and had plenty of food, etc. I'm not really poor, but I feel like I am.
Anyway, by the time Jon (husband man) got home from work I was a blubbering mess, and I think I freaked him out a little bit. At first he got frustrated with me (he never really knows how to react when I'm crying... he starts acting like it's his fault and then I feel worse because it isn't andyouknowhowitgoes--). Then when things had calmed down a bit (I still was in the sniffling-eyes-attempting-to-water-over-phase) I noted that I really wanted Starbucks, but three dollar coffee was too expensive, especially with me out of work. Being the sweetie that he is, he handed me his debit card (we have a weird banking situation right now... we both have our own accounts, and also a joint account) and told me to go get my coffee since he knew I really wanted it. (And also could I go pick him up a burger at Wendy's while I was out?) I dithered about at first, and then my stomach decided to throw in its two cents, and tell me I was hungry. I didn't really want fast food, though. Long story short we ended up at Ming Garden, a really good Chinese buffet in town.
BUT--before we got to Ming Garden I got a call from practicum lady. She got me the placement I needed. Yay on that count... (she waited a month and a half to hear from the other school, and then got this placement in a day?!)
After that my mood took a definite upswing. I'm doing just fine now (I even managed to not overeat at the buffet... WOOT!). I still don't know what to do about the job situation, so I guess I'll just keep looking and hope something turns up.
Also, after all this nonsense today, I realized that my period is supposed to be this week. Thank you very much for enhancing my day, PMS!
And as for my ADD... you remember all those grand homework plans I had this morning? It is 10:50pm and I have not done a thing. Doh!
So, today: Shortly after I woke up this morning I received a call from the woman at the college who is working on my placement. She still had not heard from the school system which I had requested for my practicum, so she wanted to ask my permission to ask another school system nearby. (Why wait a FREAKING month and a half to ask me if it is okay to look elsewhere? I indicated on the request form that the school system she called me about was my second choice!). Anyway, I told her it was more than fine and we hung up.
Now, I have recently been diagnosed with ADD, and I have a hard time focusing on getting my school work done, but I had all sorts of grand plans about getting muy muy assignments done today--but I made the mistake of checking my e-mail after I got off the phone with practicum lady. Well, there I found an e-mail from a close girlfriend who lives halfway across the country from me, and she sounded so upset about things going on in her life that I had to immediately e-mail her back. I have a tendancy to write books instead of e-mails, and this turned into one. Her e-mail was about a lot of things, but the main subject was that she is not happy with her current job situation. Apparently she tends to work somewhere for a time and then get tired of it and want to move on... but she had only just started this job last year around this time. Well, in my e-mail I told her I know how she feels--I had not been at the museum for quite a year, but was beginning to get antsy. (Of course, if I hadn't been laid off I would have continued to work there until I got my teaching license, but eh). Writing the e-mail to her got me thinking not only about my job situation and that I should be looking for jobs, but also, about becoming a teacher. What if I teach for a year and then realize I hate it? What will I do if that happens?
You can probably see where this line of thought started to lead me... do I even have any skills? What can I really do with my English Lit degree besides teach? (By this time I was searching job websites). Why is the healthcare industry the only industry that seems to be hiring right now? Why do entry level jobs want the applicant to have 3-5 years of experience? Do I have to move to a big city to actually find a job besides teaching that will utilize my degree??? These thoughts are depressing, and they were running rampant today.
Of course, I don't really need a full-time, big impressive job right now, because in theory, I will be teaching in a year and a half to two years. So I finally found a local, part-time job to apply for that I am qualified to do. Kennel attendant at an animal hosptial. My first high school job was actually as a kennel attendant at the local SPCA, and very recently I have worked at a PetsMart as a bather in their grooming salon, so I thought I'd be a shoe-in if I applied.
I had to actually go to the animal hospital to get a hard copy of an application, and when I got there--get this--I had to wait because they had already run out of applications and the girl had gone to get more. Seriously. They ran out of kennel attendant applications. When she got back (luckily I only had to wait a couple of minutes) I decided to go ahead and fill the application out right there and get it overwith. While I was sitting there filling out my application, someone else walks in and asks for a kennel attendant application. No joke. I never knew that scooping up dog crap was such a popular occupation.
After I left I called my mom to tell her I had applied (I had talked to her about it earlier, and called her for the addresses of some references, since I don't generally carry that information around with me). What was just supposed to be a short conversation ended up as a rant, with me in tears while trying to drive back home. It isn't my mom's fault, of course. She was being wonderful and supportive. I just, for some reason, was overcome by this massive wave of self-pity, and began ranting about: --Why did I even go to college, anyway? I just applied for a job a high school kid could do--and it was the only job that I could find locally that I am qualified to do! I'm sorry I wasted your money with college!-- I got myself all worked up, and got my mom worried. I feel bad now because our convo somehow morphed into how she doesn't know what it is like to be poor since she and dad have (since I've been alive, anyway) always lived in nice houses and had plenty of food, etc. I'm not really poor, but I feel like I am.
Anyway, by the time Jon (husband man) got home from work I was a blubbering mess, and I think I freaked him out a little bit. At first he got frustrated with me (he never really knows how to react when I'm crying... he starts acting like it's his fault and then I feel worse because it isn't andyouknowhowitgoes--). Then when things had calmed down a bit (I still was in the sniffling-eyes-attempting-to-water-over-phase) I noted that I really wanted Starbucks, but three dollar coffee was too expensive, especially with me out of work. Being the sweetie that he is, he handed me his debit card (we have a weird banking situation right now... we both have our own accounts, and also a joint account) and told me to go get my coffee since he knew I really wanted it. (And also could I go pick him up a burger at Wendy's while I was out?) I dithered about at first, and then my stomach decided to throw in its two cents, and tell me I was hungry. I didn't really want fast food, though. Long story short we ended up at Ming Garden, a really good Chinese buffet in town.
BUT--before we got to Ming Garden I got a call from practicum lady. She got me the placement I needed. Yay on that count... (she waited a month and a half to hear from the other school, and then got this placement in a day?!)
After that my mood took a definite upswing. I'm doing just fine now (I even managed to not overeat at the buffet... WOOT!). I still don't know what to do about the job situation, so I guess I'll just keep looking and hope something turns up.
Also, after all this nonsense today, I realized that my period is supposed to be this week. Thank you very much for enhancing my day, PMS!
And as for my ADD... you remember all those grand homework plans I had this morning? It is 10:50pm and I have not done a thing. Doh!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
I heart me!
I'm going to use this post for a little self-love (that sounds a bit dirty, huh?) ;P I may not be svelte or physically fit, but I think I'm quite pretty. And I AM working on the whole physical fitness thing right now. But since I don't really expect people to read this blog, I may as well toot my own horn a little bit. After all, I admitted I'm fat--I should also admit I'm pretty and a wonderful person. :)
I've had complete strangers come up to me and tell me I look like Drew Barrymore, and I don't mind one bit. I think Drew is gorgeous, and although I know I couldn't pass for her twin, to at least remind people of her makes me feel like my looks are not wanting. :) I like to imagine that some day I'll be "discovered" by some Hollywood hotshot and get to play Drew's sister in a movie. Note the word -imagine- there... I live in Virginia and won't be jetsetting over to Hollywoodland any time in the forseeable future, but, ya know, a girl can dream.
What else is great about me? Well, I enjoy singing and have been told I have a pretty voice. When I used to sing solos in church sometimes old ladies would come up to me after the service and say I made them cry... in a good way! Right now I'm singing in the praise band at my church, and I'm having a blast with it.
I'm also good at drawing, although I don't really make time for it anymore. I'm good at writing, and would like to be a -published- children's/ young adult's author someday. What else... I'm a pretty good cook, but an even better baker. I never follow cookie recipes to the letter, and my cookies always turn out delish. (I get the cookie genes from my mama!)
Well, I'm pretty great. I just need to remember to come back and re-read this on days when I'm feeling down on myself. My weight does not determine my worth as a person.
I've had complete strangers come up to me and tell me I look like Drew Barrymore, and I don't mind one bit. I think Drew is gorgeous, and although I know I couldn't pass for her twin, to at least remind people of her makes me feel like my looks are not wanting. :) I like to imagine that some day I'll be "discovered" by some Hollywood hotshot and get to play Drew's sister in a movie. Note the word -imagine- there... I live in Virginia and won't be jetsetting over to Hollywoodland any time in the forseeable future, but, ya know, a girl can dream.
What else is great about me? Well, I enjoy singing and have been told I have a pretty voice. When I used to sing solos in church sometimes old ladies would come up to me after the service and say I made them cry... in a good way! Right now I'm singing in the praise band at my church, and I'm having a blast with it.
I'm also good at drawing, although I don't really make time for it anymore. I'm good at writing, and would like to be a -published- children's/ young adult's author someday. What else... I'm a pretty good cook, but an even better baker. I never follow cookie recipes to the letter, and my cookies always turn out delish. (I get the cookie genes from my mama!)
Well, I'm pretty great. I just need to remember to come back and re-read this on days when I'm feeling down on myself. My weight does not determine my worth as a person.
Get up lazybones!!!
I have to go to the gym today. I haven't since Thursday when I went swimming, and it is Sunday now. I didn't go for that stint because I strained or pulled a muscle in my shoulder and it hurt muchly. It is still sore but usable--I will just not do the weight machines today. But I have to go. I don't want what has happened before to happen again... I work out for a week or two and then slowly taper off... Nope, not happening. I'm not just doing this to fit into a wedding dress like I was a year or two ago--I am doing it so I can be fit and healthy.
So what shall I do at the gym today? Probably my old stand-by, the elliptical machine. I can usually go for about an hour on one of those suckers. I am not fit enough to really jog or run on the treadmill, but for some reason I can get going on the elliptical and time just flies by. Well, it also flies by because I have my iPod with upbeat tunes to listen to while I'm chugging along. But I wonder why I get so out of breath and exhausted from trying to run or jog, but not from using the elliptical machine? I mean, I get tired, but my lungs don't feel like they're on fire and I'm not gasping for air after five minutes. What gives? I know the elliptical is low impact so it doesn't hurt the knees, but does that have anything to do with being winded? My kindof-theory is that when I run or jog, my feet pounding the treadmill surface sort of force the air out of me, while the elliptical doesn't because there is not pounding involved--just nice, fluid motion.
Well, I suppose if I'm going to head to the gym I'd better eat something now and get moving... the later in the day I put it off until, the easier it is to say I'm too tired or I just don't feel like it. So I will go when I'm done with lunch. :) Left-over chili... yum.
So what shall I do at the gym today? Probably my old stand-by, the elliptical machine. I can usually go for about an hour on one of those suckers. I am not fit enough to really jog or run on the treadmill, but for some reason I can get going on the elliptical and time just flies by. Well, it also flies by because I have my iPod with upbeat tunes to listen to while I'm chugging along. But I wonder why I get so out of breath and exhausted from trying to run or jog, but not from using the elliptical machine? I mean, I get tired, but my lungs don't feel like they're on fire and I'm not gasping for air after five minutes. What gives? I know the elliptical is low impact so it doesn't hurt the knees, but does that have anything to do with being winded? My kindof-theory is that when I run or jog, my feet pounding the treadmill surface sort of force the air out of me, while the elliptical doesn't because there is not pounding involved--just nice, fluid motion.
Well, I suppose if I'm going to head to the gym I'd better eat something now and get moving... the later in the day I put it off until, the easier it is to say I'm too tired or I just don't feel like it. So I will go when I'm done with lunch. :) Left-over chili... yum.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The Fat Chick Has Left The Building
Me at 220ish on October 19th, 2008 ^
Me at 150ish Freshman year of high school ^I am fat. There. I said it. I'm not pleasantly plump, there is not "more of me to love," I am fat. Obese, in fact. I carry an uncomfortable 220ish pounds on a 5'5" frame. I'm not saying this to garner sympathy and I'm not saying it out of self-pity. I'm saying it because it is a fact. I am unhealthy. I am unfit. And I have nobody but myself to blame. Yes, genetics plays a factor--but genetics didn't force me to eat that second doughnut or that huge bowl of ice cream.
Why am I saying all this, then, if not to have a "woe-is-me" fest? Because I am finally taking responsibilty for my actions. I have not exercised, and I have eaten vast ammounts of unnecessary food, and it has made me fat. Now that I think about it, I am actually ashamed of myself... halfway across the world children are starving to death, and over here I'm eating myself to death. After all, obesity brings with it a whole slew of problems... high cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, heart failure... and that is just to name a few things.
I have never loved my body, and that is one of the reasons I have become the fat chick that I am. Though I was born premature, I was always the biggest kid in my elementary school classes. I grew and developed faster than all the other girls. I remember a girl telling me that I had hairy legs and needed to start shaving... in fourth grade. I felt out of place at summer camp where all the girls were flat as a board, and I had developed little tater tots on my chest. I don't remember this happenening, but my mom told me that when she picked me up from my week at church camp one summer (probably the summer before fourth grade) I was just bawling because I had started to develop breasts and none of the other girls had. I wasn't necessarily fat back then, but I thought of myself as fat going into fifth grade because of how different my body shape was from all the other girls. It did not help that my period started the summer before fifth grade, or that I was in a completely new school in a completely new state, as we had moved because my dad was transferred. Or that the "popular" (ie. mean girls) picked on me for no reason. Enter sixth grade: I was almost my current height (probably about 5'4") and weighed in a 150 pounds. Was I overweight, sure. Was I ugly/obese/gross? No. Did I think I was? Yes. The other girls were still short skinny sticks, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. As middle school went on I stopped growing (height-wise, at least) and the other girls began growing. By my freshman year of high school the only way I was able to maintain being around 150 pounds was by having a borderline eating disorder. Freshman year was also the last year I was semi-physically active. Previously I had played basketball at the Y for a time, and then played in an all girls softball league. I love softball, but when I got old enough to play fast-pitch, things went downhill... for one because I had trouble hitting a ball thrown that fast, and for two, because my coaches were a couple of biased jerks who played only their daughters and their friends, while others of us sat on the sidelines. If we had been a winning team I can see how that would work, but we were not. I believe we lost every game, and still the coaches would not put me or some other girls out until after it was clear we were losing. That is the only time my mom ever let me quit a sport... she felt it was truly unfair. Me too. I mean, way to devalue my abilities. After that I got progressively fatter. Luckily I'd met my boyfriend (now husband) in my freshman year before I became grossly obese, and he stuck with me because he loves me no matter my size (thanks Jon, I love you!). By senior year I weighed in the 200s. I was miserble.
Fast forward to college. Weight Watchers. Lost weight. Gained it back. Lost it again. Blah blah blah. With my upcoming wedding as incentive I got down to the 180s... and now, almost a year after my wedding, I am in the 220ish range again.
Screw dieting. Screw the points system. I refuse to let food be the focus of my life, and that is what dieting does--it makes food the focus of every day, because everything has to be planned around meals. No more. I will eat what I want--in moderation. I will exercise (I just got a shiny new membership to a local health club-yay!) and I will try to be healthy. I don't care about reaching any goal weight anymore. I just want to be healthy and happy. The fat chick has left the building.
Why am I saying all this, then, if not to have a "woe-is-me" fest? Because I am finally taking responsibilty for my actions. I have not exercised, and I have eaten vast ammounts of unnecessary food, and it has made me fat. Now that I think about it, I am actually ashamed of myself... halfway across the world children are starving to death, and over here I'm eating myself to death. After all, obesity brings with it a whole slew of problems... high cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, heart failure... and that is just to name a few things.
I have never loved my body, and that is one of the reasons I have become the fat chick that I am. Though I was born premature, I was always the biggest kid in my elementary school classes. I grew and developed faster than all the other girls. I remember a girl telling me that I had hairy legs and needed to start shaving... in fourth grade. I felt out of place at summer camp where all the girls were flat as a board, and I had developed little tater tots on my chest. I don't remember this happenening, but my mom told me that when she picked me up from my week at church camp one summer (probably the summer before fourth grade) I was just bawling because I had started to develop breasts and none of the other girls had. I wasn't necessarily fat back then, but I thought of myself as fat going into fifth grade because of how different my body shape was from all the other girls. It did not help that my period started the summer before fifth grade, or that I was in a completely new school in a completely new state, as we had moved because my dad was transferred. Or that the "popular" (ie. mean girls) picked on me for no reason. Enter sixth grade: I was almost my current height (probably about 5'4") and weighed in a 150 pounds. Was I overweight, sure. Was I ugly/obese/gross? No. Did I think I was? Yes. The other girls were still short skinny sticks, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. As middle school went on I stopped growing (height-wise, at least) and the other girls began growing. By my freshman year of high school the only way I was able to maintain being around 150 pounds was by having a borderline eating disorder. Freshman year was also the last year I was semi-physically active. Previously I had played basketball at the Y for a time, and then played in an all girls softball league. I love softball, but when I got old enough to play fast-pitch, things went downhill... for one because I had trouble hitting a ball thrown that fast, and for two, because my coaches were a couple of biased jerks who played only their daughters and their friends, while others of us sat on the sidelines. If we had been a winning team I can see how that would work, but we were not. I believe we lost every game, and still the coaches would not put me or some other girls out until after it was clear we were losing. That is the only time my mom ever let me quit a sport... she felt it was truly unfair. Me too. I mean, way to devalue my abilities. After that I got progressively fatter. Luckily I'd met my boyfriend (now husband) in my freshman year before I became grossly obese, and he stuck with me because he loves me no matter my size (thanks Jon, I love you!). By senior year I weighed in the 200s. I was miserble.
Fast forward to college. Weight Watchers. Lost weight. Gained it back. Lost it again. Blah blah blah. With my upcoming wedding as incentive I got down to the 180s... and now, almost a year after my wedding, I am in the 220ish range again.
Screw dieting. Screw the points system. I refuse to let food be the focus of my life, and that is what dieting does--it makes food the focus of every day, because everything has to be planned around meals. No more. I will eat what I want--in moderation. I will exercise (I just got a shiny new membership to a local health club-yay!) and I will try to be healthy. I don't care about reaching any goal weight anymore. I just want to be healthy and happy. The fat chick has left the building.
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