Extreme Weight Loss

Holy crap, does anybody else cry like a squalling child when they watch this show?  No?  Just me then?

AWKWARD.

Maybe it's because it hits a little too close to home.

 I always find myself rooting for these people more feverishly than I cheer for the Packers during the Pack/Vikes game (or the Packers/Bears game...take your pick).  I feel like I'm rooting for myself sometimes.  The episode a couple of seasons ago about the 30 year old infertile myrtle?  The one who used to love to sing but doesn't like people to look at her while she does it?  Uh...yup, pretty sure that episode was about me.  I watched the whole thing with my jaw hanging open, sobbing.

(Disclaimer: I do get pissed at shows like this, however, due to the poor transition between these intensive programs and "real life," which, unfortunately, often results in the contestants reverting to their unhealthy habits and gaining the weight back after the cameras stop rolling.  The Biggest Loser is the worst culprit of this abrupt shift from life in the gym to daily life at home.  Also, The Biggest Loser pisses me off for another reason...people who clearly desperately need to be there and need the guidance and accountability are kicked off when they have a less successful week, numbers wise?  That is one effed up program.  I know it makes for compelling TV, but it's kind of a dick move on NBC's part.  End of rant.)

Anyway, as I'm watching tonight's episode (I haven't cried yet, but we're only 12 minutes in, give it time) and thinking of what an amazing gift it is to be under Chris Powell's guidance for an entire year.  Can you imagine?  I can't imagine something so awesome!

And then I remember.  Silly Angie, you can TOO imagine.

While my trainer isn't famous, he's changing my life as surely as Chris Powell is changing the people featured on TV.

And Jen...my God, Jen, I can't ever thank you enough for this tremendous gift I've been given.

I can't believe I'm a month in already (5 weeks, to be exact).  In some ways, it feels like I just started (which I know in the grand scheme of things, I did) and in some ways, it feels like I've been at this forever (in a good way).  On days that I don't go to the gym, I miss it.  I know even if I'm having a crappy day, there will be about an hour of stress relief.  Like sweet, sweaty Xanax. :)

Guess what else.  I'm not on a diet.  I eat whatever the heck I please.  But what I want to eat is healthy.  Why?  Well, the reason is twofold...1) I pay big bucks to see a nutritionist and I'll be damned if I'm going to flush my FSA dollars down the toilet (not to mention wasting both her time and mine) by paying for her advice and expertise and then eating like crap, and 2) I sweat my ass off 5-6 days a week.  To the point that I get whiskey face (read: beet red), my "base layer" (if you know what I'm saying) is completely soaked and my pants start to sag because of the sweat, and I routinely wish I'd put my hair back in a du-rag to keep my sweaty bangs out of my dang eyes.  I like it, but that shit is no joke.  Do I want to "cancel out" my hard work with crappy food?  Um...no.  Hell to the no.

When I think about the way I have treated my body in the past, it makes me sad and angry at myself at the same time.  But I didn't know how else to function...I thought I needed my unhealthy habits (and resulting shape) to hide behind and as a crutch, and security blanket.

So far, my brain is changing a lot more and a lot more quickly than my body...and I'm okay with that.  I'm actually happy about it.  Not that the small physical changes I'm seeing aren't gratifying and amazing, but the change of mindset is mind blowing.

*****Also, you may be interested to know that by the time I finished this entry, the episode was 34 minutes in and I have cried twice.