Yo, yo, yo!!!

It's been awhile. Did you miss me? I think I may have missed you.

I haven't made it back to the gym since the downward spiral began. And weird things have happened with my body. I haven't gained much weight - according to the scale - maybe a pound or two - but I look completely different and none of my clothes fit properly. I am lumpier than I've ever been in my life, and those are not just slightly depressed musings.

So what is the answer?

The obvious answer is to get myself back to the gym - even if it's just to walk 1/2 mile - 1/4 even - something.

But things are rarely as obvious as they seem.

The whole yo-yo dieting thing - lose 50, gain 75 back - does it work that way with exercise, too? If you get something going, then slack off for just a couple weeks, does it put you even further behind than you were when you started? For me this seems to be true.

I suppose the next obvious answer would be, "then don't slack off". But here in the real world, stuff happens. Obligations pop up. Better offers come along. No progress gets depressing. Making a daily commitment is - not realistic.

I don't want to be like this. I am really appalled, actually. I can't believe this is me. It's very very bad.

Anything I start will be put on hold when this surgery is (finally!) scheduled. But I reckon it's not a good idea to put off starting something till after it's over. It could be a couple months.

But the yo-yo effect! What if .....

Crap.

I'm walking tomorrow, if not today.

I need to.

The Spiral Continues Downward

I read this story in a woman's magazine years ago. It may have been short fiction, it may have been a true story. It doesn't matter. It's hung around on the back shelf of my brain for a good number of years. It occurred to me today with startling vividness in a dream. (Yes, I was dreaming toDAY. Stop being so judgy - you'd nap in the afternoon if you could, too.)

The story was about a woman who was hitting mid-life. She was chubby, but not fat. Not like me. Her husband was not turned on by her anymore. Not like me. (Or so I'm often told!) She went to the gym to become more attractive to her husband. And she liked it. And three times a week for an hour turned into five times a week for an hour turned into six times a week for two hours turned into - well, you get the idea. The weight fell off and her muscles began to develop definition. And she dug it. At first her husband was pleased to see the results. She was looking good. But he didn't like the time commitment that she was making to it. She didn't care what he liked, she was hooked on the intoxicating feeling of developing muscles. And develop muscles she did. Soon her muscles started becoming large rather than defined. She was spending several hours in the gym every day now. Hubs was not amused and did not find the growing muscles attractive. She started thinking about body building competitions. He started thinking about a divorce. She decided if it was a choice between her muscles and her man, she'd keep her muscles.

Do you suppose there's some deep seated fear that this would happen and I sabotage myself so it won't (on accounta adoring my husband)? Or do the FA folks have it right and I really just am what I am and it really is as hard to make a skinny person fat as it is to make a fat person skinny?

I am having an increasingly difficult time accepting myself as a fat woman. I want to be a slim woman. I would LOVE to be a muscular woman. When cooler heads prevail, I know I need to work on accepting who I am and making that the best me I can be. But sometimes... sometimes when I dream...

Stupid things. I would love to have a beautiful family portrait, but you can't have a beautiful family portrait with a fat person. You sure as HELL can't have one with a fat woman. It's such a stupid simple thing to want. I want to look nice in clothes and to buy them because I like the color and the style, not because "they'll probably fit". I'd like to show my arms. I'd like a visible clavicle. I'd like I'd like I'd like...

I don't WANT to exercise if I can't have all of that. It's not asking for the freaking moon!

Pfffft.

Because It's Not ALL Optimism and Good Job...

Yeah, well, it was a good run. It took a couple few weeks before I got to this inevitable place. I know this place well. I spend a lot of time here. I'm thinking of buying a little condo here, so I'll be more comfortable when I visit.

This place is, of course, lethargy. There are plateaus on 3 sides of it - that's the route I usually take to get here, but this time I skipped them.

I couldn't tell you specifically what caused this shift in motivation. I do know that my once healthy "I need to accept myself as I am" attitude is shot. Fuck that. I hate how I am. I want to be hot and if I can't be hot, I at least want to be normal for God's sake. Why is that too much to ask? That really shouldn't be too much to ask. And I want it. And I can't have it and that sucks.

I know I'm not making sacrifices right now. I eat pizza. And wings. And cheeseburgers. I don't indulge my sweet tooth often, but I do indulge it. Sigh. I do all of those things. So that means I'm weak and uncommitted and that I don't want it bad enough, right? Well, no it damn well does not. Because I DID give up all of those things. I gave up every damn thing that made me happy for such a long time and I still couldn't reach those goals. I was still shopping in the 'big girl' department and looking like a damn cautionary tale. Put down that slice of pizza, or you might end up looking like her...

So instead of responding to my new-old dissatisfaction with myself by re-doubling my efforts at the gym and starting to pay more attention to what goes in my body, I respond instead by - by giving in to 'sad' and wanting to crawl under a blanket and avoid the world. And even as I'm doing this, I KNOW it's the wrong thing to do. And yet... and yet...

It should be ok to resign myself to 'never being hot again'. I'm 46, for Pete's sake, how hot was I gonna be anyway? I'm old and I'm a mom and I'm menopausal. The bar for hot is set pretty low when you've got all that going on. And it shouldn't even matter! What value does 'hot' have, anyway? Oh, I know - plenty. I'm just trying to use feminist arguments to make myself feel better about myself. How's that going? Pretty terribly, thanks for asking.

I'll find my way back again. I always do. I love going to the gym. I just need to untangle it from this idea of a nice body/lower weight.

And, sigh.

Saturday in the Park

And today's fitness walk took place in the park. We didn't get far - just a little over a mile - but I will say I was willing to go further. It was probably good not to overdo it. I guess. I really just loved being outside with the whole family, holding hands with my sweetie.

I love this picture, because it is us and it was such a nice time. Don't have to tell you, I don't reckon, what I don't like about it. I debated posting it. Debated it a lot. I usually crop pics of myself or hide behind people or...well...you probably know the tricks. But this one makes me just a little more happy than unhappy. So I bravely posted it, both here and on Facebook. I fully expect to regret that... But if I'm going to preach the whole be who you be thing, then I best get used to who I be. And this is that. And that is ok.

And We Danced

Y'know, you read it and hear it over and over. It should not be a revelation. But exercise can be really fun. Not just the "I like going to the gym and I do enjoy a good burn" fun. I know that. I get that. But also the real, true, "I am just doing this for fun and exercise is a really cool bonus thrown in" kind of fun.

We had karaoke at the pizza shop last night.

Lea singing "My Immortal"

Shelby singing "A Simple Song"

As far as the business is concerned, it was a huge fail. But oh my sweet mother of God was it fun. We - and by we I mean a small group of friends and family - were the only ones there. It was like our private party. Everyone (but me - there are limits!) actually took the mike. Everyone danced. And I mean, we danced a LOT!

It was so fun and uninhibited - because we were among friends. At one point, doing a repetitive line dance, it actually FELT like going to the gym and doing a warm-up. Worlds collide.

Another thing that was super-cool was that boundaries were blurred. Age and size didn't matter. Girls just wanna have fun. I danced with my daughters and my sister and our friends with equally wild abandon. Put your hands in the air like you don't care. There was a lot of laughing, but every bit of it was laughing with, not laughing at. Ok, maybe the boys behind the counter were laughing at. But if you're living your life in a way that is not amusing to silly 16 year old boys, you're living it wrong. Raise the roof.


I bonded with my daughters (they won't soon forget last night), I worked my body a little (tired and deliciously sore) and I just had one helluva lot of fun. How much more win can a night be? (and the answer is: none.)

Awesome.

I Think the Scale is Broken

See? See how fast that was? I was up one pound. Then when I got off and it was empty empty empty it didn't go back to true zero. So I said , "hah!!! the scale needs to be re calibrated!" Which may or may not be true. What bothers me is that it bothered me.

Grrrr.

Good class - small. Bobbi is very friendly and I like that. Starting to be friendlier with other regulars in the class too. Getting to be social as well as fun. Just in time to quit for six weeks...

I want this operation - I do. I've wanted it for a long time. I know it's necessary. I really believe it will help. But six weeks to recover? I don't want that at ALL!!!

I repeat, Grrrr.

Jenny, Jenny, You're the Girl For Me!

FINALLY got to meet and take a class from the much admired Jenny today. I've been hearing about her and her Tuesday classes since I started. I started on a Thursday. The following Tuesday she was sick, the following Tuesday I was in Myrtle Beach and last Tuesday she was in Florida. So finally today.

The class was fuller than it has been - apparently folks are very faithful to her and don't show up for a sub. (Again - Amy comparisons are unavoidable...) And I can see why. Girlfriend taught one helluva class. And it wasn't so much that she kicked my ass (Old Sue still gets the prize for that!!!) it was that she was just a really good instructor. She walked around before class and said hello to everyone she did know and introduced herself to those she didn't. She offered modifications - both higher and lower - for almost every exercise. She walked around the class and checked our form. She was really interested in seeing that we not only did it, but did it right. I liked her a lot.

Nice total body workout, again. Followed by a super nice soak in the jacuzzi which is finally fixed. My knees screamed "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!" so loudly I was afraid the ladies taking water aerobics in the pool might hear them.

The bad news, of course, is that the doc is finally thinking what I've been thinking for years, which is: I need a hysterectomy. This involves a 6 week recovery period. I'm just starting to get into the swing of things and I have to take 6 weeks off followed by a slow re-entry period. It's cool, I'll do what I can till then - I'm told the better shape I'm in the easier recovery will be. So I'll never look good in a bikini again... (you better be laughing with me and not at me). Not sure when the surgery will be exactly, yet, but my doc (and I) do feel that it's inevitable.

Also - I know, I know, I know, but I got on the scale and am down 4 pounds from the beginning. Without really watching diet at all. So that is very slow and steady and painless. But I don't want to talk about weight! I don't! I really really don't!!! (but I was sort of thinking if I was down 10 or so before surgery, that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world...) Man - trying not to make it about weight truly is the hardest part. I knew it would be.