Setbacks and Sickness

So...winter can suck it.  Big time.  I've been deaf in my right ear because of a eustacean tube dysfunction for over a month.  It's not awful, but it's annoying, unpleasant, and uncomfortable.  Multiple courses of steroids haven't fixed it, so I'll be half deaf until they figure out the mystery of my right ear.  It's a pain in my ass, but I'm dealing.

However, the past two weeks have been awful.  I got a sinus infection about two weeks ago, which migrated down to my chest and settled into a lovely case of bronchitis.  I've been on Augmentin (finally finished it today, woohoo!) and another steroid burst (four days left, woohoo!) and I still feel like poo.

Even though my voice is back and I'm back at work after missing a few days (thank GOD, I was getting so stinkin' bored), it's hard not to be able to do the things I want to do.

I've only been able to work out twice in the past two weeks, and I had to half-ass it both times.  I tried to run last week and coughed so hard I peed my pants.  I PEED MY MOTHERFUCKING PANTS.  I thought stress incontinence was a hell saved for women who've given birth and/or the elderly.  I was wrong.  Bronchitis is a bitch.


Anyway, I took 5 days off and went back to the gym for a light workout last weekend.  Again, I coughed until I almost fell over.  Awesome.
Today, I went back to workout again, and once again, took it super easy.  I biked, I did abs, I biked some more.  It was awful, because it hardly felt like I did anything.  But I didn't cough nearly as much as last time.  Score!

Since I got sick, I've felt sluggish and lazy and gross and icky in general.  But it's impossible for me to lay on the couch all day and cough.  As soon as I was considered non-contagious, I wanted to hit the gym again.  So I started researching online about exercising with bronchitis.  I'm a nurse, I already knew the answer, and I've given this advice before, but I didn't want to believe it.

In case you were curious, here's what I found.

DON'T DO IT.

Above the neck illness (mild headache, stuffy nose) = go ahead and work out if you feel up to it.

Below the neck illness (lung congestion, cough, vomiting) = stay the hell home and recuperate.

I know, I know, I KNOW...Angie, why you no listen to your own advice??

Pictured above: me

But as many of you know, my biggest fear is complacency.  I've had this mindset that taking a break is not an option...even for illness.  Also, I worry that after missing so many workouts, I've backslid horribly and my progress is going down the crapper with each day spent away from working out.  I worry that when I'm finally able to start hitting it hard again, it'll be like starting all over again - fucking miserable and impossible and the worst thing EVER.  Sad panda face.

PIctured above: me

Well, I've had to change my mindset.  Obviously, because pushing myself too hard through the tail end of this illness could also drag it out for weeks or months - and that's the last thing I want.

I've gotten some sweet and much needed texts, facebook messages, and emails from friends and health professionals that have all told me pretty much the same thing...for the love of God and all that is holy, take it easy on yourself!

I was feeling really badly about not working out and cancelling a bunch of training appointments, but after talking with my trainer today, he also reminded me to listen to myself and ease my way back into it.  And - it's fine, shit happens, tomorrow's a new day and the gym will be waiting when I'm ready.



The moral of the story?

Sometimes your body needs a break.
I am not invincible.
I need to listen to the wisdom of others and take it easy (but I will not be skipping the gym any more...just doing easy workouts for awhile to keep myself moving).
Shit happens, tomorrow is a new day, and the gym will be waiting when I'm ready.

I just wish my lungs would catch up with the rest of me!

Progress update: 9 months in

Well...not quite 9 months.  It'll be 9 months on February 1.  But close enough.

To recap:  9 months ago, my amazing friend Jen (who was, at that time, a complete stranger to me) gave me the best birthday gift I've ever gotten when she selected me to receive a year of Anytime Fitness membership.  I got her call, and was so shocked I don't even think I thanked her while we were on the phone.  I stayed up late to tell my husband that night.  I was so excited and so scared.

On the day Jen gave me my membership, with some of the most awesome people I know (Clockwise from top left: Kirk, Nate, Beth, Jeffer, My awesome self, Donovan, Jen, Jena, Kate, and Mary).  My gurus and one heck of a support team.  They rule.

I went in for my fitness consultation with my trainer on my birthday, and it was probably the most intimidating experience of my life.  I'm used to people listening to me, but having people watch me is completely different.  Especially when I'm doing something that is completely foreign to me, which they do professionally.  Especially with a strange man that I don't know.  Especially when that man is buff and intimidating looking.  I got home and asked Jeff to pummel me with a meat tenderizing mallet (not kidding).  That first day was brutal, physically and mentally.

I started going to Nutritional Healing about a week later.  My nutritionist's advice and recommendations were a complicated mystery of serving numbers and portion sizes.  It was a lot of information to handle at once.

9 months later.  Training is still brutal, but I'm doing things now that I never would have dreamed I'd be able to do in the past.  It still feels kind of awkward to be watched while I work out, but I'm beyond the point where I care.  I huff and puff and make weird faces and get red-faced and sweaty and have to blow my nose like ten times a session and leave covered in chalk.  Control yourselves, single guys and ladies...I look IRRESISTABLE during training.


My nutritionist's recommendations are now second-nature.  Do I still eat chocolate?  Hell yes, because it's amazing, and I'm willing to do the extra minutes on the elliptical that it takes to burn it off.

One of the most surprising things to me is the atmosphere of trust my trainer and I have cultivated.  It's a strange relationship; trainer and client.  It teeters on the border of fitness, counseling, mentoring, friendship, and teacher-student.  It's weird and excellent.  I honestly wasn't sure, at first, if I'd be able to trust my trainer and really let my guard down enough to give 100% during my sessions.  The verbal attacks I've been subjected to in the past have been predominantly from men, and most of those men were very fit; so as a subgroup of the population, I was intimidated and scared of them.  A male trainer that I don't know?  A screaming drill-sargeant, who I am to let in to see my vulnerable self?  Yikes.

Fortunately, I could not have been more wrong.  My trainer, and the other trainers at the gym (whom I ask questions of on an almost daily basis, thanks dudes) are frickin amazing.  No screaming drill-sargeanting happening.  Will he call me out on my bullshit when I'm stalling because I don't want to run?  Yes.  But will he also patiently wait while I mentally prepare myself for box jumps instead of getting impatient?  Also, yes.

Flippin awesome.

Now, let's talk about my nutritionist.  She rocks my socks off.  Every month, Jeffer and I go in to get weighed, measured, and have our composition analyzed.  I'm at the point now where the nutrition is second-nature, but questions consistently come up.  She gives us all the factual information we need, her opinion when we ask for it, and also, calls us out on our bull.  Bonus: she's fun.

So, the updates.
Let's start from the beginning, and let the photos and captions tell the tale.

This is June, 2014.  I was about 6 weeks into my training and had lost 13lbs from my start weight of 350.

August, 2014.

This is October, 2014.  I think I had lost about 60lb at this point.

And this is from today.  Down 92lb from the first photo and 79 from my 32nd birthday.  It's kind of blurry, but you get the idea.  Also, my hair looks fantastic today.

In 9 months, I've lost 79lbs.  Overall, I've lost 92lbs from my heaviest weight.
I actually weigh less now than I did when I was full of parasites living overseas.  Bonus: this weight-loss is much healthier than intestinal worms.  The more you know.
I'm down 5 pants sizes and 3 shirt sizes, 11 inches in my waist and 9.5 in my hips.
My wedding dress has room for a second person to jump into it with me.
My energy level is fantastic.
And my confidence is better than it ever has been.

Now, again, I will say this.  MY VIEWS ON BODY POSITIVITY AT ANY SIZE AND BEAUTY AT ANY SIZE HAVE NOT CHANGED.  I am a champion for body positivity and loving yourself.  As long as you are happy and healthy, I honestly don't give a crap whether you weigh 100lb or 400lb.
My increased confidence is the best thing that's come out of this, and I don't know if it's from the weight loss, how much stronger I've gotten, or both.  But it's excellent.

I'm crushing goals, kicking ass, and taking names.

AND I'M 8LB AWAY FROM MY NEXT TATTOO.

Think you can't do it alone?

So, you want to get healthy.  Awesome!

To you, maybe that means losing weight.

Maybe it means eating more vegetables.

Maybe it means gaining muscle.

Maybe it means training to run your first 5K.

Whatever it means, good for you!  Some say deciding to "get healthy" is the hardest part of the entire process.  I both agree and disagree.  It is mentally exhausting and stressful.  You are worried about the level of commitment you're about to make.  Can you handle it?  Will you fail?  What if you can't do it?

If you've tried to get healthy before and not been successful, you may be asking the most terrifying question of all:

Can I handle ANOTHER failure?

If you're anything like me, the answer is: Probably not.

So, you want to get healthy.  But you don't take action, because you're afraid of failing.  You think maybe failing at this means you're a failure in general.  You worry that people will think you're weak, have no willpower, or are lazy if you don't have the success you're looking for.

This was the story of my life, from approximately age 14 until 31.  That's a long time to feel like a failure.  It's a loooooooong time to not understand why you just can't do it, when it seems to come so easily to others.

Here, in an effort to be transparent, I offer you the complete list of failed weight loss attempts in my life, in no particular order:

Atkins - this was delicious (read: lots of bacon) until I realized that a diet of bacon and Jell-O does not a healthy Angie make.

Weight Watchers - multiple times.  The science behind this program makes very little sense to me, which I'm sure is one of many reasons I was unsuccessful.

Transitions - had great success for the 12 week duration of the program, but when left to my own devices, maintenance was a huge issue.  Obviously.

Straight up starvation - uncomfortable AND ineffective.

That cayenne and lemon cleanse crap.  Yuck

Cabbage soup diet.  Yuck

Curves - this was always fun, but never really gave me a decent workout.  Plus, I had no idea what constituted an appropriate diet for my age/weight/activity level.

YMCA - fantastic cardio equipment...intimidating dudes in weight belts grunting and giving me the stink eye in the weight room.

Aloe Juice

Alli

Stackers - holy heart palpitations, Batman!

Ephedrine - holy heart palpitations, Batman!

Metabolife - holy heart palpitations, Batman!

Vomiting - seriously, I wish I was kidding about this.  It was sometimes unintentional, but always gross.

Calorie counting - exhausting.  Just exhausting and awful in every way.  Plus, just because you're eating less than 1500 calories per day (or whatever the number) doesn't mean you're eating a healthy diet or a diet that is conducive to weight loss

Probably more attempts that I'm forgetting...there have been SO MANY

The one thing all these attempts have in common?

I WAS TRYING TO DO IT ALONE.

Now, wait a minute, you say, Weight Watchers has group leaders!

Indeed they do.  However, the dynamic between leader and member is SO important, and mine was not great.  I had a fantastic leader initially, whom I had great success with.  She was motivating, always encouraging, and yet somehow pushed me to be better.  I loved her.  And then she left to go back to school, which is awesome for her, but not so awesome for me (SELFISH ALERT)!

The leader I had after that did not jive with my needs.  Everyone is different, and she did great things for a lot of people.  But not me.  Another failure to add to the list.  Spectacular.

Now, there are some people who can do it alone and have amazing successes getting healthy!  They can look up a marathon training program online, complete it alone, and run that marathon with no guidance whatsoever.  To these people, I say, kudos to you, and I am jealous.

I, on the other hand, need some serious hand holding.  I need someone to tell me to do something and then tell me I can do it when I protest.  I need someone to make me do scary things and then high five me after I do them.  I need somebody to weigh and measure me on a regular basis, high five me when it's awesome, and help me figure out what the hell happened when it's less than awesome.  

I guess through this rambling, What I'm trying to say is this:

If you think you can't do it alone, you're probably right.

And that's fine!  There's absolutely no shame in needing support, help, and accountability.

If that's what it takes for you to met your goals, DO IT.  DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT!  

Because there's no way in hell I would be able to do this without my dream support team: Jen (my main motivator and gift-giver), Donovan (my daily ass-kicker, aka personal trainer), and Amanda (my nutritionist, aka the boss).

Pride

Have you ever been so proud, you felt like your heart might explode right out of your body?  

But you don't want to make said pride known, lest people think you are a peacocking jerkface?

Squawk.

Maybe you haven't wanted to share how proud you are of yourself, just in case you fail.

As have I.  But guess what!  I'm older and wiser, and I'm at a point in my life in which I don't care.  I don't care if people think I'm a peacocking jerkface.  Because I know how hard I'm working every day.  I know how much my attitudes and motivation have changed in such a short time.

And guess what else.  Failure is so much different than I once thought it was.  If I am working hard, sweating my ass off and making good decisions, and the outcome is not what I wanted or different than I expected, have I failed?  Nooooooooooo.  Because I didn't give up.

Success!

That's all, the end. :)