Goals

I like setting goals and crushing them.  In that past, setting goals was a frustrating, depressing process for me.  I was really good at the planning stages...and not so great at the actual execution.  I had known for a loooooong time that I wanted to/needed to lose weight and get healthier, but no idea how to do it.  Eat less calories than you take in (duh), but to be honest, there's a lot more to it than that, at least for me.

Counting calories is super triggering for me.  I can't do it without feeling restricted, anxious, and stressed.  It always always always leads to a binge and feeling badly (and sick).  So I don't do it.

Weight Watchers was fantastic in terms of measuring intake without calorie counting, but, for me, it didn't teach me how to eat healthy.  I could eat nothing but Snickers bars all day as long as I didn't go over my daily points.  I was losing a little weight, which was great, but still feeding myself with a lot of processed crap.

Everybody is different, and different things work for different people.  I know people who have lost tons of weight counting calories, on WW, on Atkins, or on another program, and it makes sense for them.  Fantastic!  Keep it up, yo!

What does this have to do with goals, you ask?

Until I had a plan that I could sustainably execute, my goals were just wishes.  I wanted them, but wasn't taking appropriate steps to meet them.

Over the past year, my goals have evolved as my health and fitness have.  My first goal was to get through my first workout without crying, dying, or vomiting.  It may seem like a ridiculous or easy goal, but it was my Everest.  I was so intimidated by the gym and my trainer at that time, and that first workout was terrifying.  But I did it.  Goal met.  After I got into the swing of things, my first weight loss goal was 20lbs.  After that, it was to be below 300lbs.  Then to lose 75.  Then 100.  I've also had NSV related goals...for example, comfortably sitting in an airplane seat without a seatbelt extender was a goal I crushed on my trip to AZ in March.  Even things like sitting in a restaurant booth comfortably or in a chair with arms without being in pain were goals that I had.

Now that I've met my 100lb goal (plus some, yay!), it's time to re-evaluate and make new goals.  I have to admit, I'm at a bit of a loss.  I want to gain some water weight, which probably sounds ridiculous to most of you.  But even though I drink water all day (and pee about a billion times a day as a result), I am chronically dehydrated (as are lots of people).  My body composition is improving slowly but surely, and my percentage of body water is slowly creeping up.  The more fat I lose, the more it goes up (thank GOD).  But it's only at 39%, and it should be at least 50%.  The problem with this goal is that I need it to be tangible and concrete, and I'm not sure how to quantify water weight gain in a way that is attainable on a monthly basis.  *le sigh*

I would also love to put on some muscle.  Again, my percentage of muscle keeps increasing as my fat percentage goes down, but pounds wise, I've actually lost some muscle this year.  The small amount I've lost, considering that I've lost 113lbs, is pretty fantastic.  But eventually, I'd like some sweet gains.  I want a big, amazing ass, what can I say (well, it's already pretty big and amazing, but I want it to be like Kim Kardashian-ey).

Also, I'm most certainly not done losing weight (at least, I hope not).  I'd still like to lose a solid 50 more pounds, possibly more.  But it's tricky, because I'm now at the point where people are starting to ask about my "goal weight."  And I have no idea what it is.  I hope I'll know it when I get there, but as of now, I have no idea what it is.  Because it depends more on how I feel and look than the number on the scale (never thought I'd say that).  I could surprise myself and stop before my 50lb loss.  Maybe I'll get to 210 and decide that's perfect.  Maybe I'll lose the 50 and decide I need to lose more.

I guess I'm just trying to throw this out there...make goals for yourself!  Make them achievable, measurable, and REALISTIC, so you can pleasantly surprise yourself when you crush them.

Go gain a pound of muscle.

Go sit in a restaurant booth.

Go get that Kim Kardashian ass.

The times they are a-changin'

It's time for a transition.  A new start.  New adventures.  A change.  *BARF*

Pictured above: ME

So.  My trainer is done training.  He's moved on to explore different opportunities.  I knew it was coming (thank god he weaned me off of his services by cutting his schedule down first).  I've been waiting for this day for a few weeks, and I've anticipated being a sad panda about it.

Pictured above: EVERYONE WHO HAS ANY INFLUENCE ON MY PLANS.  DAMN YOU.

Surprisingly, I'm not a wreck.  I'm actually feeling really good, and way more optimistic than I thought I would be.  Especially considering how anxious I am.  I thrive on routine and "change" is a big fat scary boogeyman (unless I instigate the change, of course).

My being okay with this transition is no reflection on my trainer.  Pretty sure he was frickin AWESOME and changed my life in ways I never could have or would have on my own.  Buuuuuut...

Sometimes change is a good thing.  Changing up my routine.  Changing up my guidance.  Exploring new mentors and new methods and new places.  But a lot of change can lead to stress.  Especially for an anxious little bee like myself.

In addition to my trainer leaving...

My trusty, rusty Toyota finally went to the big scrap heap in the sky.  It's been sitting in a parking lot at Van's service for a week, waiting to be pitifully hauled away.  Because of this...

My husband had to get a new job.  Which is stressful for both him AND me.  Also...

It's the beginning of a new semester.  Which means ten tons of work and no time for funsies.  And...

We have so much mandatory overtime at work right now it's not even cool.


What's the point?  Am I looking for sympathy?  Empathy?  A getaway car?

Nope, just wanted to say, as much as I hate change, and sometimes transitions can suck it, I'm handling this pretty well.

And, cornball as it seems, I feel like, in large part, it has to do with my new habits.

I eliminate stress by moving my body (exercise) or sitting completely still (meditating) and if all else fails, I take a nap.  In the past, I stifled my emotions and bottled up my stress by eating or getting drunk (or smoking stuff).  Not the awesome-ist plan ever, and really stupid when you remember that I'm an educated person.

So thanks again to my lovely health gurus.  Without your guidance, I'd be navigating all this change and transition with gin and Funyuns instead of deadlifts and cardio and naps and guided meditation.

Everyone knows deadlifts are more fun than gin, anyways.  And I can't wait until my new trainer makes me do them until I swear at her. :)

A despreate plea on behalf of my trainer

I'm making a desperate plea to all fellow gym-goers out there.

For the love of God and all things holy...

RE-RACK YOUR WEIGHTS.

CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR DAMN SELF.

If you want to see a generally kind, patient, positive, and sweet man (or any gym employee/polite gym-goer, really) get even a little bit annoyed, by all means, leave your weights on the machine.  Hell, leave them on the floor!  Re-rack multiple weights of plates on the same bar (this is most effective if you put 5lb plates under/before like 35-45lb plates). 

Mind you, this same man had the patience to tolerate listening to my whiny voice for 30 straight minutes today without acting upon his probable desire to smack me in the face to shut me up (but come ON, he made me do thrusters.  THRUSTERS, Y'ALL.  UGH.  Plus I'm just having one of those days...)...so it's not as if he's easily annoyed.

But what he cannot tolerate is a messy gym.

YOUR MOTHER DOES NOT WORK AT THE GYM.

YOUR CLEANING LADY/MAID DOES NOT WORK AT THE GYM.

And when you leave your crap all over the place for others (ie, employees, myself, other members) to clean up, it leaves me to draw one of five conclusions:

1) You are oblivious.

2) You were raised by wolves.

3) You are an asshole.

4) You are lazy.

5) Any/all of the above.

Ok, well this last one is sexist, but I can see how it would motivate the "bro" population to clean up after their damn selves.

Therapy

Pushing yourself physically can be a surprisingly emotional experience.  I say this from experience, because I cry at the gym with frightening regularity.  

Yes, it's embarrassing.  

Yes, it makes me feel awkward.  

Yes, I really really really 

hate crying in front of people.  

But sometimes I just can't hold it in.  When the emotions are there, bubbling right under the surface, I have to let them out...whether its joy, despair, anger, frustration, pride, etc.  I feel like if I keep it in I will seriously explode.

*** Side note: dear God, someone give my trainer a raise for all of my emotional issues that he has to deal with.  Seriously...whatever he makes is not enough.***

Imagine you've spent your life encased in a distancing, isolating, and in that way "safe" suit of armor.  Now, imagine your armor is gone.  Or in my case, partially gone and receeding more and more each day.

Part of you is glad to be rid of it!  It restricted your movements.  It prevented you from doing things.  It isolated you and made you uncomfortable.

But it was also safe in there.

And it's terrifying to not have it any more.

It can make you feel vulnerable to attack and exposed to everyone and small and meek and uncomfortable.

IF you let it.

And it's really, really hard not to let it make you feel that way, at least at first.

This is part of what I'm going through right now.  When you spend your entire adult life and most of your childhood being of above-average size, you don't know how to function differently.  You are used to negative comments or no comments being made about your body and appearance.  So, as nice as it is to hear compliments about your body, it may make you start to feel all of the above mentioned, unpleasant things (especially coming from people you don't know all that well). 

Even though you weren't strong before you started this process (at least, not as strong as you are now), you somehow feel weaker without your armor (as happy as you are to be shedding it).

Like I said, it's really hard not to get sucked into this mental trap of feeling weak or like a victim.

You know what helps?  What will make you feel stronger and empowered and fierce and like a bad-ass and like you could cut any mofo who tried to hurt you now that you don't have your armor?

Lifting heavy things.

Using muscles that you previously neglected.  

Sweating your face off.

Jumping onto tall things because you couldn't before.

Slamming things on the ground.

Throwing heavy things into the air.

Punching stuff (with boxing gloves on, of course, and only when invited to do so...don't just randomly start punching stuff, please).

Sometimes, doing this stuff is the absolute best medicine.

Yesterday morning, I went into the gym in a foul mood.  After making an ass of myself, crying all over my trainer for like the dozenth time, and having a short but revealing conversation, it was time to work out.

I felt like absolute crap.  And I really, really didn't want to be there.

30 minutes later, I felt amazing.  I was tired, red, sweaty, and sore.  But my mind was clear and my spirit was lifted and I was ready to seize the rest of my day.

I'm not saying that working out can or will fix all of your problems.  Thats overly simplistic and just not a realistic expectation.  

What I am saying is that, for me, moving my body helps me work through tricky situations, get over things that happened to me earlier in the day, clears my mind, makes my heart happy, and improves my mood immensely. 

You should give it a whirl. 

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.

This post was going to be about compulsive weighing but then I got pissed at a stock photo and the theme changed

Does anybody else feel chained to their scale?  Or weigh yourself frequently?  Like...daily?  Or even multiple times a day?  Just to see how things change throughout the day?  Or find out how much your clothes weigh?  Or how much that burrito sitting in your stomach weighs?

I can't decide if it's out of sheer, morbid curiosity, or if I am legitimately addicted to my scale.


**But now, a rant.**

I had a lengthy blog post planned regarding frequent weighing, and how I'm ridiculous and step on my scale out of habit like 5 times a day, because I'm weird and I love to weigh myself.

Instead, I bring you this:

I hate this graphic SO MUCH.

I found this image while searching for suitable stock photos or memes to use for this blog entry.

For some reason, it made me irrationally angry.

Does the number on the scale immediately make you feel the need to exercise?  If it does, exercise is your punishment for being "fat," and that is seriously messed up.  First of all, being "fat" is NOT SOMETHING THAT DESERVES PUNISHMENT.  It is a state of being.  Lots of people on this wonderful earth are fat, and they do not deserve punishment simply for being fat, or eating bad food, or gaining a pound.  

STOP USING EXERCISE AS A PUNISHMENT FOR "BAD" BEHAVIOR!  Exercise, while not always fun, shouldn't be used that way.  How do you expect to enjoy an activity when you feel like you have to do it because you were "bad?"  Exercise is an amazing privilege.  Even when I am silently cursing my trainer for making me do those Roman chair ab thingies that make my shoulders scream and I look like a moron, at least a teeny, tiny part of me is glad I can use my limbs (however feebly) to do them (like 4 of them at a time, on a good day...but still).  Every time I am forced to run, I hate it so fucking much.  My shins hurt, my hip hurts, I get out of breath.  It's awful.  But guess what, I can move one leg in front of the other.  Tons of people probably wish they could run, and can't.  So I'm going to suffer through it and then appreciate that I did it.  Even though it's the worst thing ever.

Gah.  I hate that frickin image so much I could spit.

This is more like it.  Enjoy your body and USE IT!

This, I love.  Don't take it for granted, indeed.

My apologies if this entry makes no sense...I was absolutely hell-bent on writing about frequent weighing and why I think it's the devil but I love it so much...but that image just struck a chord with me and I couldn't stop myself.

Plateaus and deep fried Oreos

It's been a rough couple of weeks.

Work is absolutely crazy.  We've started taking triage calls for different clinics all over the state over the past few months which has increased our workload exponentially, while staffing remains the same.  It's awesome for our organization, and I love my job, but this shit is bananas and it's exhausting.

Pictured above: me, every day.

School is sucking my free time up.  Not surprised...nursing school was hard enough the first time and this is building on that foundation.  Plus, last time I went to nursing school I was working two 12-hour shifts a week, and now I am working full-time.  I also have a dog now that I didn't have before, and that sweet little face needs cuddles and walks every day.

Pictured above: me, every day.

I feel like my progress has stagnated a little, which is annoying.  I am still hitting the gym at least 5 times a week (6 times during a good week) but I need to be honest...

I have eaten like crap for the past 10 days.  

When I say "like crap," I should specify.

I'm still making better choices than I did before I started this.  Like, WAY better choices.  So I am pretty proud of that.  But I didn't eat anywhere NEAR as healthily as I have been, or as my nutritionist, my trainer, and myself expect me to.  

Example:  I went to Oktoberfest on Saturday.  I have a love-hate relationship with these kinds of festivals.  It's always nice to get downtown and see the music, the crafty stuff, and the unbelievably entertaining people watching that come with street festivals.  Plus, my college besties Ali, Dan, and Katie came downtown with me which was amazing!  It's so rare that I get to see them all together.  Even more embarrassing...Katie lives like 3 miles away and I haven't seen her since January.  I'm not great at making plans.  Love you KT!

But anyway, we were at Oktoberfest, which involved a lot of walking.  Score!  But...

Oh Lawd, confession time...

I ate a deep fried Oreo.

It was fucking amazing.  I may have had a tiny foodgasm, it was so good.  I almost cried right in the middle of College Ave, I'm not even kidding.  I made weird noises.  It was unbelievable.  

But it was fried and greasy and everything I should be avoiding.

*insert Homer Simpson drooling noise here*

Guess what though!  I ate ONE deep fried Oreo.  In the past, I would have bought the 3-pack, snarfed through those mofos, and probably followed it up with brats and beer.  Instead we went out for breakfast for dinner later and I had a side salad with my eggs.  And a pitcher of water.  Reasonable choice for an IHOP meal.

Also, after we ate, and swam, and hung out and talked with my lovely friends and their manfriends/husbands for a few hours, Jeffer and I went to the gym.  

Not going to lie, I kind of half-assed it.  But the point is: we went to the gym at 11pm.  On a Saturday.  Voluntarily.  And I did squats and deadlifts and burpees without my trainer telling me to.

Here's the point: Everyone might stagnate from time to time in their fitness journey.  Maybe you're not making the gains you want to.  Maybe you gained 3 lbs.  Maybe, like me, you've been stuck at the exact same weight for 2 weeks, when previously you were losing about 2 lb a week.

Think back on your choices and, again, like me, you might realize why.  If not, maybe it's time to crank it up a notch.  If not, maybe you need to keep doing what you're doing and push through it.  I don't know, I'm not a trainer or nutritionist (obvi) and I have no idea what I'm doing...I just listen to my "bosses" and do what they say.

Except for the deep fried Oreo.  They didn't say to eat that.  But it was worth the running I'm going to try to force myself to do tonight.

Finances

I haven't been able to post much recently because school, while amazing, is sucking up all my free time and brain cells.  I have a love-hate relationship with school, just like I have with working out.  At the time, It can be terrible...it's exhausting and hard and frustrating at times when I can't do something or can't figure something out.  But I know it's making me better and I love how I feel when I accomplish something, so I keep doing it.

So here's the scoop.  I've been working out with my trainer for almost 5 months now.  Which is amazing...sometimes I feel like I just started out (which I know in the grand scheme of things, I did) and at times I feel like I've been doing this forever.  It's become a habit...if I go more than one day between workouts, I feel icky and weird and sluggish and kind of gross.  I've learned some valuable lessons, such as (TMI alert, if you're squeamish about lady problems, move on to the next paragraph) you shouldn't avoid it when you have the worst fucking menstrual cramps of your life, because it will actually make them better.  Maybe days when you feel dizzy aren't the best days to try to do a bunch of burpees.  And for the love of God, EAT SOMETHING BEFORE YOU GO TO THE GYM.

But I'm super scared right now.  I only have one more month with my trainer.  Well, I should say one more sponsored month before I have to figure out how to pay for his services, because I want to keep him.  And when I say I want to keep him, I should be saying I need to...let's be honest, I need the push and the accountability.

As many of you know or may someday find out, getting healthier can be hella expensive.  Don't get me wrong, it's the best money I've ever spent (aside from my nursing degree and my travels).  But nutritionist visits, constant new clothes/alteration of current clothes, future gym membership payments (my gym is free for me for another 6 months, thank GOD for Jen Mott) and training sessions are expensive.  Plus, I'm paying tuition at a private university for the next 3 years.  Also: bills.  You get the picture, and I'm sure you can relate.

I guess what I'm trying to say is...if you want to get healthy, MAKE THE INVESTMENT.  I'm freaking out right now about how my husband and I are going to financially make this work (P.S. he joined the gym and got a trainer this month, too!  So excited!!!  And so freaked!) but it's such a high priority for us right now that we'll find a way to make this work.  Some of you may remember my blog post from this summer about simplification...well, ditching cable and phones and other things was all part of getting us ready for this crazy expensive fall we're having.

Also...not looking for sympathy, just putting it out there.  A lot of people have commented to me "I wish I could afford the gym/nutrtionist/trainer/etc but I can't."  The point is: we can't either, but this is worth the other sacrifices we're making.  Make yourself a priority.  And maybe, you don't even need a gym or a trainer!  You can youtube lots of fitness stuff and workouts for free, which is great if that's your bag!  I, unfortunately, need people to keep me in check and push my lazy ass past what I want to be doing (which is sitting on my duff watching Parenthood reruns).

Progress Update

Honestly, I don't think I look very different than when I started this process of attempting to become the incredible shrinking woman.  Apparently, other people think I do.  The compliments I'm getting from friends, family, and co-workers are so rewarding.  Even more so, perhaps, are the comments I get from randos at the gym (and staff, too!)...it's extremely validating to have your hard work noticed.

So, let's start from the very beginning.

This is me and hubs at Yellowstone in August, 2013.  Note: the lump above my boob is chapstick, I didn't have any pockets.  Also, it was seriously like 105 degrees that day.  It was sweaty and hot and miserable and BEAUTIFUL.  Give me a home where the buffalo roam, indeed.

Shortly after this photo was taken, hubs and my bestie (hi, Ali!) wanted to take a hike.  I decided to sit it out, blaming my photosensitizing meds (I had been having excruciating headaches earlier that summer and was on a buttload of neuro meds that made me prone to sunburns).

Truth: I just didn't want to slow them down or (embarrassing horror of horrors) have to turn back before them).

This is me in June, about 1 month into my workouts and nutritional overhaul.  I had lost 13 lbs when this picture was taken...slightly more than the weight of baby Taco.

I had started feeling REALLY good for the first time in a loooong time.













This is what I looked like today, after a day of work, an awesome workout, and a delicious Chipotle burrito:

Under the amazing guidance of Donovan (my trainer), Amanda (my nutritionist), and Jen (my mentor and rockstar workout buddy):

I have lost 40 lbs since 4/28/14.  

I'm down 53 pounds total from my heaviest weight ever (in 2013).  

I've increased my percentage of muscle by 0.3% (which, to be honest, doesn't sound like much, and I'm actually down a couple pounds of muscle overall, which pisses me off to no end.  However I'm so happy that I've been able to maintain enough to increase my percentage as I lose weight).  

I've lost 5 inches around my waist and 5.5 around my hips. 

Last week, I had to throw away ALL my underoos and buy an entirely new drawer full.  

My bras are too big (all but one sports bra, truth be told) and that needs to be my next investment.  

My favorite jeans slide down over my butt when I try to put them on.  

When I have time to sleep (ha), I am sleeping like a damn corpse (and I mean that in the best way possible).  

I am energized and happy and feeling awesome.  

Even though the visual progress is slow (at least to me), it's really awesome to see my numbers change...to see my hydration increase, my muscle maintain, and my fat plummet.  

One more thing I need to address...body positivity.  I have always been a big believer in beauty at every shape and size, dressing in whatever makes you feel happy and confident, and fat acceptance.  I've been asked if, now that I'm trying to lose weight, my beliefs have changed.

NO they most certainly have not.

My reasons for weight loss are as follows:

1) Health, first and foremost.  A lot of fat people are healthy, I was (am?) not.  I have sleep apnea and take beta blockers, and the day I can bash the shit out of my c-pap machine with a baseball bat like the copier in Office Space will be the best day of my life.  I'll have a party to celebrate; you're all invited.

2) Happiness.  I know a lot of fat people who are happy and beautiful.  In fact, two of my girl crushes (we're facebook friends...you both do amazing makeup...one of you I met through my sista and one of you I met through WAIT...but I will keep your identities secret like Clark Kent) are voluptuous ladies, and they are unbelievably sexy.  Like, ferociously sexy.  Their spouses are two lucky, lucky dudes.  Whoa...tangent.  Anyway: I did not genuinely feel either of those things on a regular basis.  It's important to know: my coping mechanisms were (and are) extremely flawed: food was my drug and I numbed myself with it.  I needed to learn to deal with my feelings and stress in a more positive way, without turning into an alcoholic or a heroin addict (not kidding, not mocking, it's a genuine concern of mine).  I struggle daily with actually addressing my stresses and problems instead of just burying them under a mountain of junk food.  This process is raw and painful and ugly and amazing and I have cried more in my life over the past 4 months than I have ever before in my life, because I let myself feel every emotion that comes into my brain.

So could I be fat and happy?  No, because of my issues with food and my inability to cope with things.  Can you be fat and happy?  Hell yeah, and if you are, more power to you.  If you're not, do something to make yourself more happy, less fat, or both.  But know this: losing weight is not a magic ticket to happiness. 

:)

Simplification

I've found that this journey into a healthy lifestyle has, in large part, been about simplification.

Yeah, I don't know what theclothdiaperreport.com is, nor do I care...but this is EXACTLY what my mantra has been lately.

Scientific fact: This cures cramps.

Simplification of my diet: If you can't read the ingredients, don't eat it.  Unless it's a Dove chocolate square and you have wicked PMS and/or cramps.  Then go ahead and eat it.  Simple as that.  (There's a little more to it than that, courtesy of my nutritionist, but really, that's the general idea.)


Simplification of my exercise routine: it went from sporadic or nonexistant to steady and predictable.  This sounds monotonous and horrible, I know, but it's anything but.  When I say "steady and predictable," what I mean is, I know I will go to the gym every day (that's the goal...6 days out of 7 is more realistic for me...gotta give myself a day off just in case, that way when I do make it in every day I feel extra awesome!).  What I do at the gym is different just about every time.  If I'm with my personal trainer, I know I will sweat my face off until I feel like I'm going to fall over, though going in to it I never know what he's going to make me do.  It's simple though...he chooses, and I do it.  On days I'm by myself, I either recycle one of the dozens of workouts he's made and written out for me, or I do cardio.  Or both.  It's simple: I show up, work out, and go home.

Am I the only one who thinks this graphic looks like they stripped the skin off the Incredible Hulk?  That's actually the only reason I chose this :)

Simplification of my life in general: If I don't wear or use something on the reg, it's going to Goodwill or the junk store.  Books I've read but am not in love with?  Gone.  Old clothes that no longer fit or that just aren't my style?  Gone.  Kitchen gadgets that are taking up all my counter space?  Gone.  I'm still working on this, but my goal is that everything in my home should be either beautiful or useful.  Hopefully both.  No room for extra crap that's there just for the sake of being there.  Extra things to clean, extra things to dust, extra things to find places for.  Every extra item in my home is a needless distraction and takes time from the things I need to be doing and want to be doing...cooking, working out, studying, spending time with my husband, friends, family, and diggity dog.

Cutting out things that aren't conducive to my goals: You may not know that in addition to pursuing new goals in health and fitness, I'm also a graduate student.  This means I have no money for anything extra and no time/patience for anything I don't need to be wasting my time on.
Por ejemplo...
My husband and I got rid of our cell phones over a year ago and rarely miss them.  Yes, it was nice having the internet in my purse.  The GPS was super convenient.  Candy Crush was addicting.  But we both started to feel tethered to our phones.  Reachable at all times, dependent on them, addicted to them.  So we cancelled our plans.  A couple of months ago, I decided to get a cell phone again.  I hate it.  Now, the cell phone that I purchased is just a Tracfone...nothing fancy, but I can call and text and (theoretically) use the internet if I need to.  I bought it in May and I've used it twice.  Seriously, the thing came with 10 minutes on it and I still have 6 of them.  And yes, smartphones have buttloads of amazing health and fitness and nursing and grad school related apps that would likely enhance my life, but I'm doing just fine without a phone.  Once you cut a $200 monthly bill out of your life, it's really hard to justify adding it back in.

We just cancelled Netflix.  I will really miss The Walking Dead, but will Netflix help me meet or exceed my goals of working out daily, losing weight, and maintaining my 4.0 GPA for as long as humanly possible?  No, no it will not.


Time Warner Cable.  First of all, I hate them, but we need the internet and a landline (since we are cell phone-less as discussed above).  Basic cable came with our condo rental, and we decided to get the extra "premium" channels.  I will miss Girls and Nurse Jackie, but again, will HBO and Showtime help me meet or exceed the aforementioned goals?  NO.  I have no room in my life any more for things that don't contribute to the cause of making me better, so cable went away also.


Now, if you have cable, and Netflix, and cell phones, and extra stuff in your house, THAT'S FINE.  I'm in no position to judge anyone else's life (unless you're seriously a hoarder, and then it would come from a place of love and concern, because that shit isn't safe).  I just know I need to streamline as much as possible.  My little family, my education, and my health are my top priorities in no particular order (and besties, please know you are included in the family portion of that list) and everything else best be getting out of my way.

Also, if you have Netflix, you should probably give me your password so I can sneak in an episode of The Walking Dead once in awhile.  I promise not to judge your "Recently Viewed" list too harshly. :)

Buddy Workouts

As much as I enjoy my one-on-one time with my trainer, my GOD I love buddy workouts!  Tonight I got to work out with the lovely Sandy and Jen...both women who have done amazing things.  AMAZING, powerful, inspirational women who I am so lucky to know and call friends.

I managed to keep up with them, didn't die, trained with a trainer I've never worked out with before (which, for those of you who know how awkward I am in new situations and how much Xanax it requires for me to do things that scare me, is an accomplishment in and of itself) AND the session was an hour, which is twice as long as I normally work out with my usual trainer (and at the end of my normal half hours, my body is completely smoked and I just want to pass out).

I laughed SO hard during this work out, it's hard to know if my abs are sore because of the core circuit (which was challenging) or because Sandy is HILARIOUS and I couldn't stop laughing the entire time!

Also...does anybody else feel like they're cheating on their trainer when they work out with someone else?  I know they all work for the same place and are colleagues and support ALL the gym members, not just the ones they train with...but it kind of made me feel like a gym slut.

With that said, it was awesome.  I had to do wall sits and push ups, which I HATE.  But I also got to do ab mat sit ups, planks, ball slams, rope slams, and lots of kettlebell stuff, which I LOVE.  And even the stuff I hate wasn't too bad, because I had my lovely partners in crime there to cheer me on.

If you go to Anytime and ever want to do a buddy workout, LET ME KNOW!

Thanks, Sandy, Jen, and Kirk for an awesome hour!!

Judgement, Fat Discrimination, and the Isolation of Obesity

Read the letter below, and think about it for a second.

This letter wasn't to me, but it may as well have been.

For the record, let me say this:  

Yes, I realize that I have not been marginalized as much as, say, ethnic or religious minorities.

Yes, I realize that some of my attributes that apparently invite discrimination were self-induced.

But anyone who thinks that fat discrimination isn't a "thing" is delusional, and/or blind.

If you are an average-sized human, ESPECIALLY AN AVERAGE-SIZED CIS-MALE HUMAN, I ask you this...how many times have you received a letter like this?  How many times have you been shouted at from passing cars, or laughed at by bitches at the YMCA?  How many times have you been reduced to tears because somebody made a hateful comment about your appearance?

My guess is: NEVER.  

And that's awesome.  Because nobody should be reduced to tears by hateful comments about their appearance.  It's just unacceptable.

For some reason that I can't fathom, people feel that women's bodies are theirs to comment on. Especially if you are not a Victoria's Secret model.  Too fat, too thin, too "mannish."  Omg, that crazy hippie doesn't shave her legs.  Holy crap, that girl should NOT be wearing leggings.  Eat a sandwich, you look anorexic.  Just because it zips, doesn't mean it fits.

I've been subjected to this kind of awful attitude more times than I care to remember.  I can't imagine what on God's green earth would EVER possess anyone to say or write this kind of thing to another human.  

I will never, EVER, forget the first time this happened to me.  It was my freshman spring at UWSP, and I went for a walk on a glorious afternoon.  Four guys in a blue car drove past and slowed down just long enough to shout "You need to start running, you fat bitch!" before peeling away and laughing their stupid faces off.  It was just another in a series of comments, looks, laughs, and rude comments that cut me down again, and again, and again, until I believed I was worth nothing.  I thought I deserved nothing but a lifetime of those kinds of comments.

There are people out there who seriously think that fat-shaming will motivate fat people to get thin.

Do you know what is really does?  

It makes them hide.  It makes them become binge-eaters because they don't know how to deal with their shame.  It makes them vomit.  It makes them start taking Xanax and Citalopram because of their crushing depressive disorder and nauseating anxiety (which, no doubt, contributed to their obesity in the first place).  In spite of those who love them (including fab friends, supportive siblings and parents, and an amazeballs husband), they have no idea WHY anybody cares about them so much, because they feel worthless.

Sometimes, it makes them wish they were dead.  Not because their life is awful...it's not.  They have the aforementioned amazing support system and a lot of things going for them.  But because they're not confident they can endure a lifetime of this kind of cruelty.

It's unbelievably isolating.

Until one day, the lucky ones realize they are worth so much more than they ever realized.  

Who knows what brings on this realization.  Maybe they are in a new relationship.  Maybe they read a motivating book or article.

Maybe they receive a life-changing gift from a complete stranger.  For the first time in forever, they think "holy crap, somebody has faith in me.  Somebody believes I can do this."

"SOMEBODY THINKS I'M WORTH IT."

(FYI, the "they" in this story is me, if you hadn't caught my drift)

Thanks, again, Jen.  If I said it a million times, it wouldn't be enough.

Music

It took me for frickin ever to find music that would motivate me while working out.

Cardio is no problem (music wise)...just about any fast song will do.

My problem is strength training.  When I don't have my trainer with me to push me when I want to stop, I need music to push me.

The songs have to have a good beat.  Not too fast, because I find that I naturally fall in rhythm with the songs...if the beat is too fast, I'll die and/or pass out.

The songs also have to either sound powerful or have motivating lyrics...hopefully both, but this is a rare find.  Most of my lifting songs sound just plain angry.  Which truthfully is motivating in and of itself, and makes me feel like a hard ass.

Need some new music?  Here are my current playlists...

Cardio:
Come get it Bae - Pharrell and Miley
Forever - Chris Brown (you have NO IDEA how embarrassed I am to admit that I like a Chris Brown song.  NO.  IDEA.)
Give a Little - Hanson (no, I'm not kidding.  This song is awesome)
If - Janet Jackson
Love Runs Out - One Republic
Milkshake - Kelis (mostly because it's hilarious)
On Top of the World - Imagine Dragons
Pink & Blue - Outkast
Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars (this song is amazing for sprint intervals, just FYI...thank God it's short because I'm almost dead by the time it's over)
White Walls - Macklemore (my jam.  I sing this song to my dog all the time and he hates it so much)
Work Bitch - Britney Spears
All My Life - Foo Fighters
Can't Hold Us - Macklemore
New Shoes - Paolo Nutini
Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson
Monkey Wrench - Foo Fighters
Fall Down - will.i.am and Miley
Times Like These - Foo Fighters
Ten Feet Tall - Afrojack (Thanks, Jen!)

This glorious playlist is an hour and ten minutes long, I finish my workout with a few songs to spare for stretching.  Huzzah!

Strength Training:
Personal Jesus - Marilyn Manson
Them Bones - Alice in Chains
I Alone - Live
In Bloom - Nirvana
Mosh - Eminem 
All My Life - Foo Fighters (yes, this song is on both lists.  I have such a boner for Dave Grohl, it's not even funny)
Living Dead Girl - Rob Zombie
The Motto - Drake (I hate Drake so much, but dang this song is catchy)
The Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Remember The Name - Fort Minor (this is, hands down, my favorite song on this list.  Be warned, it's listed as "explicit lyrics," but some of the lyrics are so, so motivating)
The Fight Song - Marilyn Manson
Dragula - Rob Zombie
Empty Spaces - Fuel
Would? - Alice in Chains
Heart-shaped Box - Nirvana

1 hour 1 minute of bad-assery.  Like I said, lots of angry music, great for throwing weights around and making me feel like a boss ass b*tch.

I really wanted to add some AC/DC to my strength training playlist, but all I can find on Spotify are stupid cover bands.  Thunderstruck would be amazing for strength training.


Anyone else feel wicked motivated by their workout music?  Anyone have any suggestions for new songs?  I shuffle the lists so I never know what I'm going to get next, but I'd give it another few weeks before I'm in need of fresh songs.

Thanks for keeping me motivated, you gorgeous man you.

Today's special

Today, I got to do an AWESOME workout...a tandem workout with the lovely and amazing Jen M, my HERO and inspiration!

I've never worked out with anybody before, especially somebody who's been working out for so long and is in much better shape than myself, and I have to admit...I was really excited but had a bit of trepidation going in to this workout.  How am I going to keep up with Jen in beast mode?  This woman works out like a fiend and has lost well over 100 pounds (like I said, she's amazing)!

As always, my nervousness was unfounded and the workout was awesome.  The half hour flew by.  It was tiring (as always) but it was SO fun being there with Jen!

Also, proud moment: did my first ever "non-cheater" planks, on my toes instead of my knees.  It hurt so frickin bad and was surprisingly tiring.  My abs are already sore...can't wait to see what they'll feel like tomorrow.

I hope it's the former.

Thanks for the buddy workout, Jen!  It was awesome!

Awkwardsauce

Anybody else have exercises that make them feel HELLA awkward?

There aren't many, for me (so far)...amazing, since I feel at least a little awkward on a routine basis.

  But I have to say, the few that are awkward make me want to giggle like a twelve-year-old in sex ed class.

I submit for your approval...exercises that, while effective, feel really silly:

Make sure you use protection.

Exhibit A: Hip thrusters, or glute bridges, or whatever the heck you want to call this particular exercise.  It feels like you're trying to hump the ceiling, or are auditioning to be...ahem...a "dancer."  It always makes me want to giggle uncontrollably, because my maturity level is below average for a professional woman of my age.

This person's outfit isn't nearly slutty
enough to be doing pole squats.

Exhibit B: Pole squats.  They even SOUND hilarious.  Again, super effective and a good first step into squat-land...but I feel like I'm in stripper school, and I have a hard time not singing "Hot for Teacher" or "Cherry Pie" while I do these.









That's about all, for now.  Surprising, given my infantile sense of humor.