I’ve been on the Struggle Bus

I’ll be honest here. Not only have I been on this bad boy, today I feel like I’ve been driving it.

Struggle Bus

 

Last week I was on a high from doing so good with Weight Watchers. I felt like I had my shit straight. I was in control. WRONG!

Weekend hit. FOOD! EAT ALL OF IT!!! And I did.

Lots of it. And then Valentine’s Day was a bust. And I ate even more.

And then I had the mindset of “Well whatever, diet’s already blown this week, I’ll start over on Thursday.” Whew – big mistake.

Because by Thursday my scale was back up.

That being said, Thursday morning I woke up with the mindset of “I got this. I’m in control. I will do this. I will get back on track.” Yeah… about that. When I couldn’t get home last night it just started to spiral.

I wasn’t terrible yesterday, and there’s still hope in saving today. I just have to suck today up to using all my WPs and move on. It’s ok. It’s one day.

Anyway. Yeah. Yesterday. Poor Mr. Chocolate, I felt so bad for him last night. And so helpless. He has been wonderful here recently. His dad has been working out of town for several months now, so Mr. Chocolate has been running the farm. As well, he’s having to take care of me and his mom during this awful winter weather. Yesterday morning he plowed the driveway (mind you, our driveway is over a mile long through the cow fields). He parked the tractor at down at the shop at the end of the driveway and took his car on to work.

Yesterday evening he planned on plowing the driveway again, since the wind had drifted it shut. The tractor would not start. Just no. It gave up. So Mr. Chocolate decided he’d just head home. We had made it in and out a few days before, should be fine. It’s just easier if the driveway is plowed. Yeah… that didn’t happen. Mr. Chocolate got stuck. He came back to the tractor and started working on it. I picked us up some Subway and we ate dinner in the car.

How romantic. 🙂

After that, Mr. Mechanic Cousin showed up to help work on the tractor. They replaced fuel filter thingies (technical terms there). I was sent to the store to get some Diesel 911 in the red bottle. Yeah, ok? They tried jump starting. Nothing worked. Nothing.

At about 9:00 the boys called it quits. They were both frozen to the core. We were no closer to getting home. So we packed up and headed for Wal-Mart. Bought some supplies and made camp at the Super 8.

In the mean time, I had a chocolate chip cookie and a beer. Not terrible. And I still had points left in the day. I had no fear having those.

That being said, today has been another story.

This morning I started off with a plan. I had a granola bar.

Sounds yummy, right?

And I was sticking with that plan for a while. Until I walked outside and the temperature was -5 degrees. A granola bar did not sound good then. And to top it off, I still had to wait for my car to warm up. But where? Back in the hotel, where I had already checked out of our room?

Nope. I went to Waffle House. I had an omelet. And toast. And hashbrowns.

And then, when I arrived at work after court everyone had ordered Domino’s. I had no lunch packed. I had no kitchen to pack my lunch in! So I asked if the pizza was for everyone. I was told “No. We all ordered separately. You’re out of luck.”

Really? Really?! Gee, thanks.

So I ordered pizza rolls. And I ate too many of them. But I stopped.

I stopped because I got an email telling me that I was helping someone who has been reading my blog. Someone who asked me what a good first step would be. And that reminded me that maybe I need to take another first step.

Oh but I will!

Oh but I will!

So, I will give the rest of those pizza rolls to Mr. Chocolate. He can pack them in his work lunch tomorrow. I will track everything instead of putting my head in the sand and ignoring what I’ve done. And I will take control back over my diet.

It may not have been the best day, but it will still be a good day.

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What’s with this whole NO EXCUSES movement?

I get it. You’re busy. You’re fit. You eat healthy. You take care of your family. You have all the excuses in the world to not live this lifestyle. Yet you DO live this lifestyle.

whats-your-excuse-mom

That doesn’t mean that I don’t have an excuse to not live that lifestyle. It may not be a valid excuse to you, but to me, it was.

I was there. I had lost the weight. I was healthier than I had ever been in my life. And then it all changed.

Life happened. I began a relationship with a man who likes to eat. Who made me feel comfortable in my own skin. And I gained some weight.

Then life happened again. Things with that same man took a turn for the worse. A big turn (damn, I’m glad that was temporary!). I didn’t have an appetite. And then when I did, I would eat every.single.thing I could get my hands on. All of it. If it wasn’t nailed down, I ate it. I ate for comfort. I gained some more weight.

Then, guess what?! Life happened, AGAIN! I went back to school. I spent so much time on the go it was insane. I ate take-out often. We lived on quick and easy dinners. Yeah, I only went to school 1 night a week. But I spent many other nights doing homework or group work until late in the evening. I ate what I could get my hands on. I ate to keep myself occupied. I gained even more weight.

And then I woke up one morning and I hated what I saw. I had gained back all the weight I had worked so hard to lose. I felt awful about the way I looked. The way I felt. I hit the point that not only did I hate what I saw in the mirror, naked, but I hated what I saw in the mirror with clothes on as well. My clothes didn’t fit right. They weren’t comfortable.

The weight was really starting to affect me wanting to go out and do things. I became a homebody (more-so than I normally am. And I’m a pretty big homebody.). If it wasn’t just hanging out with the friends, I didn’t want to do it.

So I gave a half-hearted attempt at losing the weight. I did this a few times. So many times, in fact, that Mr. Chocolate didn’t believe me when I said I was going to lose the weight. He’d kind of giggle to himself when I’d tell him I was starting my diet back up. The saddest part about his actions, though, is that I gave him every reason to believe that I would fail. He has heard me say that I was going to do it more times than I can count. And each time, I’d quit.

I’d make an excuse.

no excuses weight lossBut that’s the thing about weight loss. Fit-mom was right. I didn’t have a valid excuse as to why I couldn’t lose the weight. My life wasn’t any busier than hers. If anything, hers is probably busier than mine. But the difference between her and me, she was mentally prepared for it. I, however, was not. And people, that is the only excuse there is.

Weight loss is very much mental. Physically, we can all do it. It doesn’t take much. The last time I lost a large amount of weight was primarily diet changes alone. Anyone can change their diet. Even if it’s just eating less of the same things. You can change.

The hard part about weight loss is being ready to do it. If you aren’t ready you’ll make excuses. And that’s ok. When you’re ready, you’ll know it.

I think I’m finally ready. I think even Mr. Chocolate sees it this time.

Gym Intimidation

Yeah, I’ve got it.

Big time. I always feel like I have no friggin’ clue what I’m doing at the gym. I feel like everyone is staring at me. Haha – look at the chubby girl who thinks she knows what she’s doing!

How I feel at the gym

How I feel at the gym

But you know what, this chubby girl is rocking it! My gym has set me up a routine. I started with 15-20 minutes on a cardio machine as my warm-up. Then I move to my cardio/upper body/core workout. This consists of medicine ball work with squats, the BOSU ball, and the chest press machine thingy (technical term).

My gym also has this nice little area that you can do your own workout. It’s where they keep the medicine balls, BOSU, and the chest press thingy.

Yesterday while I was at the gym I was doing this awful, evil, cardio contraption. It was like a stair stepper & an elliptical had a love child. It was the spawn of Satan. I got to 5 minutes 1 minute and wanted to die. Then I made it to 5, still wanted to die. I decided I’d do 10 minutes & then switch to something else. Something easier. I hit 10 minutes and decided that nope, it was only 5 more minutes. I didn’t want to look like a wimp so I just toughed it out. I did my 15 minutes on the machine from hell.

Then it was time for my other stuff. The stuff I feel like a doofus trying. I went over the corner, picked up the medicine ball thingy (technical terms, you know) and went to town. I did my sets. A hot guy came over to do crunches & use the chest press thingy. He stayed. He did many sets. I continued my throw ball down, squat, pick up, repeat. He continued. I switched workouts. Raise above head, squat, repeat. Another hot guy came over. Buff. They took turns on the chest press thingy. I feel like a sweaty pig. Huge. Awkward even. Like I had no idea what I was doing.

But you know what?? Neither of these guys paid any attention to me. They walked right by me. They did their workout and moved on. I did mine. I moved on. They didn’t care that I was there.

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Those guys didn’t care that I was struggling. They paid me no mind at all. The girls on the other side of the gym, where I was doing my leg workouts & the God awful inverted sit-up torture device. No one cared. No one paid me any mind. I lie, one girl did pay me mind. She apologized for walking out in front of me. Other than that, I was just another body in that gym. Bettering myself.

And you know what. I’m going back today to do it again.

imagesSM9G2ADC

Even if it’s going slow, it’s still going…

So I’m annoyed with myself for being annoyed with the scale.

I keep having to remind myself that I did not put this weight on over night so why should I expect it to come off over night?? Really self. Really??

That’s the hardest part of this journey. And I think because I feel like I’ve done this so.many.times already that I should just be where I want to be! The slow process is driving me bonkers. And honestly, its not even going all that slow.

Last week I lost 1.2 pounds. This week I lost 2.2 pounds. That’s a total of 3.4 pounds in 2 weeks. Why in this world do I think that’s slow!!

1-will-not-happen-overnight

This saying is so true for me. I know I can do it. Hell fire, I’m doing it! I’m planning. And tracking. And measuring. I’m being good. I’m allowing for treats. I’m making this do-able with what Mr. Chocolate wants. I really am making this a lifestyle that I hope to be able to maintain once I get to where I want to be. I’m teaching myself how to do this with Mr. Chocolate being in my life. But I still want it to happen RIGHT NOW! And it’s not going to.

I have to remember not to get discouraged with the fact that I’m not there yet. I want so bad to be back to where I’m comfortable in my own skin. But it’s going to take time. Time I keep having to remind myself I have. I will get there this time. I think I’m finally doing this the right way and for the right reasons.

Closer

Oh yeah. I’ll get there.

Day 1 Temptations

First, let me just say that I’ve been craving some soup like it’s my job.

And they always say soup can help with a diet. If you eat the broth based crap.

Yeah, I said it. Crap.

I want creamy, warm, rich. It’s hard to get that on plan.

So yesterday I settled for a can of Progresso Light Italian Style Meatball soup. Hearty. I’ll settle for hearty if I can’t have creamy. Besides, I had to compromise. I knew dinner was going to be amazing on so many levels.

And it was.

Why? You ask.

Because we went to this local joint called Hannifans. Irish name. Great BBQ. And the Pig Poppers. They’re the only reason I go. Let me just give you the description of these bad boys, straight from the menu: Fresh jalapenos, halved, then stuffed with pulled pork and a cheese blend, wrapped in bacon, and slow smoked to perfection.

For a better idea, if that description wasn’t enough for you, here’s a lovely picture.

hannifan-s-bbq-and-grillOh yeah. Those bad boys.

Talk about Temp.Ta.TIONS!

And oh so amazingly yummy. I could eat the whole thing of them.

Instead, I ate 2. That was it. I did have some BBQ nachos. Then I had a small portion of baked beans, green beans, & pulled pork for dinner. I didn’t even eat all of my baked beans.

I hope I over calculated my dinner. I used some of my WPs, which doesn’t make me happy since it was day 1 of this. But it’s ok. That’s why I have the WPs.

Overall, I’m pretty proud of my Day 1. I feel like I did good. I made smarter choices.

Day 2 is going pretty good also. Hopefully I can keep at it.

Eat To Live or Live To Eat? That is the question.

I do. I have a real problem with food.

Can you be a food addict?

I realize that is nothing to joke about. And in all honesty, I don’t know that I’m 100% joking.

Food is my weakness. Oh how I love it. I’m not one who can “Eat to Live”. No, I am one who Lives to Eat. That is me. Food is not fuel. Food is a treat. Food is a celebration. Food is a time to get together. It’s an activity.

Food… is a problem. For me at least.

How do you retrain your brain to eat to live? That food is NOT a celebration. It is not a treat. Food is not a time to get together. It is definitely not an activity. Food is fuel.

Food is supposed to help my body do amazing things. Things like walk. Talk. Workout. Food is supposed to keep me healthy. Instead, food, or at least my relationship with it, is doing the opposite of that. Food has me winded when I walk too much or too fast. Food has it so that working out is an awful experience or embarrassment and uncomfortableness. And food is in no way, shape, or form keeping me healthy right now.

And this became very clear when my aunt had her heart attack. I’ve known for years I need to do something about my eating. I’ve tried in the past, and been very successful with it. I’ve known I have a family history of heart problems. I know that my Papa has had several heart attacks and a stroke. I know that his sister just passed away from a possible combination of heart attack and stroke. I know that my Granny has Type II Diabetes, something that can be controlled, and sometimes cured, with diet. And I know that my aunt just had a heart attack with a 100% blockage at a very young age.

I know that I don’t want these things to happen to me. Sadly, these things are starting to happen to me. Back during my physical appointment several months ago my doctor informed me that I have slightly high cholesterol. 27 years old and my cholesterol was 203. My good was low. My bad was high. That’s not how things need to be for me. That means something has to change.

That change came today. I rejoined Weight Watchers, much to the humor of Mr. Chocolate, who politely chuckled when I told him I’m starting a diet again.

Today I stripped down to nothing and stepped on that scale in the privacy of my bathroom. I am not brave enough to go back to a meeting. And after Mr. Chocolate’s little chuckle, which he claims didn’t happen, I really don’t want anyone to know about this. But I’m tell you. All of you.

As of this morning I am my highest ever recorded weight. I surpassed my previous highest every by 3 pounds. I’m embarrassed. I’m discouraged. But I’m also hopefully and determined.

Today’s WI. 245.4 pounds.

My goal for next week is obviously to lose weight. But my overall goal is to have more good days than bad days. More days without secret eating or binge eating. More days where I finish my meal feeling satisfied versus stuffed. My goal is to have more days where I go to bed proud of my food choices instead of hoping Mr. Chocolate didn’t see me eat those last 2 cookies.

I think I can handle that goal.

Let’s be Real Here

So yeah. I’m struggling at the weight loss thing.

And honestly, I’m just tired of trying. I’m tired of counting. Of planning. Of stressing.

Of the panic thoughts of “Oh goodness! Mr Chocolate wants to go out to dinner but I’ve already pre-planned & pre-tracked all of this healthy food!” And of the “Oh, I can’t eat that.” Even when on my “diet” I could eat that.

I want freedom from food. And I think the best way for me to go about getting freedom from food is to stop stressing over food. I will still be making smart choices. I will still be planning. And cooking. But I will also not be stressing about what to have for dinner. And pre-planning to the T. And pre-tracking. Because I won’t be tracking. I’ll be eating smarter, not harder.

And if the scale comes down, YAY! And if not, it’s time to love the body I HAVE. Not the body I want.

I am still buying healthier foods. And I’m going to be watching my portion. But damnit, if I want ice cream for dessert I’m going to have ice cream! And if I want to make lasagna that is loaded with meat & cheese I’m going to make it!

I can’t keep stressing. Because stressing is causing me to have a very unhealthy relationship with food. I find myself stressing over my next meal. And then because I want to be so good and so perfect I end up secret eating. And because I’m secret eating I usually end up binge eating while I’m at it. This is not a healthy relationship with food, even if the scale is moving in a downward direction. My happiness is more important than that. And when I’m doing that, I’m not happy.

So here’s to the lasagna, the glass of wine, the ice cream. The freedom to have carbs at every meal and to eat the ooey gooey cheesy goodness. Here’s to a healthy relationship with food.