Getting compliments and insults at the same time is so very unpleasant and awkward

So.  I am starting to feel weirdly naked.  Even when fully dressed.  I feel exposed and vulnerable and it's bizarre.  Eventually, I think it will be liberating and freeing, but I'm not quite there yet.

I've shed a small portion of my fat suit of armor and I feel like a naked little baby animal, all new and awkward and exposed.

"Hey everybody!  Come see how naked I am!"

I'm not deluded.  I know that I have a lot of "armor" to go before it's completely shed.  Trust me, my eyesight is fine.

It's challenging, however, make this transformation.  It's bizarre to go from being viewed negatively to viewed negatively AND positively simultaneously.  When you're fat, people view you as one of a few things:

1) Invisible

2) Disgusting

3) Someone to be pitied

4) Asexual

5) Lazy/Slovenly

Think I'm kidding?  Do a google search for the phrase "fat people are."  It will auto-fill with some horrible things.  Even worse is if you just search for the phrase "fat people."  You don't even need to hit "enter," the auto-fill suggestions are bad enough.  Go ahead.  I'll wait.

After awhile, you get used to being seen this way.  That doesn't make it okay, but it does make it routine.  The people who shout horrible things at you still hurt, but they no longer surprise you.  In fact, it surprises you when you can walk down the street without getting judgemental looks or words hurled at you.

During the weight loss process, you are in limbo.

Strangers still play Judgey-McJudgerson; staring at you, peering into your grocery cart (and being shocked that a fat girl is buying organic chicken, almond milk, and veggies instead of Cheetos and two-liter bottles of Coca-Cola), laughing, taking pictures of you on their phones (we see you, by the way), shouting things at you from their cars or porches, offering unsolicited weight loss advice, telling you that you could be pretty if you lost a few pounds, etc.  It's the same old crap.  Because to them, you're still a slovenly, disgusting fatty.  Because they can't see your beautiful heart and whip-smart mind and loyalty and revolting sense of humor.  You're just an anonymous fat girl, and must therefore be harassed and verbally abused and "helped" immediately. It's their duty!

On the other hand, people who know you tell you that you're motivating them.  They tell you you're an inspiration, they're proud of you, and that they look up to you.  This is really flattering and nice and SO AWKWARD AND UNCOMFORTABLE because you have no idea how to process people saying nice things about your appearance other than your parents (obligated by blood or adoption paperwork to think you're beautiful), sibs (obligated by years of torment as children to think you're beautiful), and spouse (who you somehow duped into thinking that you're beautiful - probably with sex and amazing cooking skills.  Sucker).  

And you want to say thank you but it feels awkward to accept compliments because you're not that used to them.  Then you feel like a giant tool for awkwardly smiling and saying "uh...thanks" because you have no idea how to process this without turning it around and finding a way to focus the attention elsewhere.  

And it's so goddamn nice to hear nice things about the way you look that it makes you mad at yourself and feel a little less like a feminist for being so happy that somebody praised your appearance (even though the people who know you are praising not only that, but your dedication and hard work as well).  And it's so nice to hear that you kind of want to cry, and that makes you feel even MORE awkward because you cry all the time as it is and that makes other people feel uncomfortable which makes you feel EVEN MORE FRICKIN AWKWARD, if that's possible.

Have I mentioned how awkward I am?

It kind of makes you want to make business cards with pictures of your formerly fatter self on them that say "FUCK YOU, I AM IN THE PROCESS OF BETTERING MYSELF, ASSHATS.  What have you done to improve yourself today?  NOTHING." to hand out to mean strangers.

But that would be mean, and it's not polite to call people names.

Even if they are asshats.

It's challenging to have this evolving vision of yourself while being viewed in two completely different ways based on your physical appearance by those who know you and those who don't.  Also, you are used to having a fat suit of armor on to keep observations and judgement away from your fragile little heart.  And as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, the armor is melting away and you feel naked and weird.

And awkward.

If I didn't say that already.

Comfort Zone

I like my comfort zone.  A lot.

It's comfy (hence the name).  I know everybody in it.  I can wear my sweatpants there and there's usually chocolate.

Here's the thing though.

Nothing new or exciting happens there.

Sometimes, that's ok.  Comfort and stability aren't necessarily bad!  In fact, they're two of the things my marriage is built on (along with ridiculous goofiness, fiery debates, trust, and gin cocktails).

But if you stay in it all the time, things will get stagnant.

To make a change, you need to get the hell out of your comfort zone.  Whether the change is in your health, your education, your career, your family, or whatever it is that needs alteration in your life...it's not going to happen if you're sitting in your comfort zone wearing sweatpants and eat chocolate.

Believe me, I know.

It's not easy, and it's not always fun.  I may well be the most awkward human to ever grace the earth.  I make people feel less weird about themselves just by being naturally awkward and bizarre.  )It's ok, I own it.  And you're welcome, everyone).  I've made a complete ass of myself stepping out of my comfort zone more times than I care to count or recall.

Take it from me, the queen of awkward.

There are a shit ton of memes about leaving your comfort zone.  As you may have noticed by reading previous blog posts, I am a big fan of memes.  I find some of them hilarious and perfect for my purposes.  (See above.)

Also, I find some of them corny as hell and not entirely accurate.  This, for example:

100% FALSE.

LIES.  Life does not begin at the end of your comfort zone.  A good portion of your life can be lived successfully in your happy little comfort bubble.  Part of your life SHOULD be lived in your comfort zone, or you will probably die of a stroke by age 30.  Too much stress is not good, and stepping out of your comfort zone is stressful as shit (at least for me...but again, I'm anxious and awkward).  

This one, however cheesy, I find to be partially true:

Only partially true...I'll get to that.

I do like that slice of cheesy goodness above, but like I said, It's only partially true.  Why?

THERE IS NOTHING MAGICAL ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS OUTSIDE OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE.  

It's not magic, it's hard fucking work.  

It's blood, sweat, tears, tears, more tears, hard work, more sweat, unfortunate facial expressions, that dream where you show up to school on the first day naked, anxiety, falling on your face, more sweat, and possibly some more blood.

It's also not 100% unicorns and rainbows.  If it was, nobody would be in their comfort zone, ever, because being out of it would be too spectacular and amazing...and then "out of the comfort zone" would become "the comfort zone" and vice versa, and that is some Inception shit that I can't even handle right now.

We put a comfort zone inside your comfort zone so you can comfort zone while you comfort zone and my brain just exploded.

Anyway, here's the point:

Don't feel badly about lurking in your comfort zone.  It's nice and warm and cozy in there.  I love my comfort zone.  

But don't be afraid to get out there and shake it up.  I guarantee, if you do, your life will change.  I can't guarantee that all the changes will be amazing.  Some of them might suck. 

The only person I can speak for is myself, and mine have been frickin amazing.

I get it, you're "too busy"

Seriously, y'all.  I am exhausted.  ALLLLLLL the time.  Too much on my plate.  Burning the candle at both ends.  Full-time employee.  Full-time student.  Full-time wife.  Full-time mom (yes, my dog counts, shut up). Full-time ass kicker.  6 days a week in the gym.


 And I swear to God and sonny Jesus, if one more parent says to me "You think you're busy?  Just wait until you have kids, then you'll REALLY know what busy is!" I'm going to punch them in the throat.  Yes, I am aware that kids are quite the time suck.  Yes, I am aware that being a mom is "the most important job in the world" (thanks for invalidating my life, BTW...in spite of my fruitless uterus, I am aware that mothers are important).  You chose to have children, and I'm sure it's been an excellent choice for you, just as I am choosing the priorities in my life, and they are fantastic.  Guess what isn't on my list of priorities, ever, at all.  Lectures from sanctimommies.  SEACREST OUT.  RANT OVER.  MIC DROP.


But I digress.


What can I say, I like to be busy.

I try not to glorify it, because I don't always feel like it's the healthiest.  Certainly my stress level is nothing to envy.

What's the point?

Throughout my entire adulthood, I've felt this busy all the time.  But I really haven't been.

Working on my undergrad degree at UWSP, I felt SO STRESSED.  Trying to graduate with a decent GPA while working 15 whole hours a week and working out 3x weekly was quite the task.  How would I EVER be able to do that?
Quick math: 15 credit hours of class per week + 15 (ish) hours of work + 3 hours of working out = 33 hours of committed time each week.  This means I had 135 hours of free time.  135 mother effing hours to sleep, and study, and eat, and hang out with my friends.  135 glorious hours.  Every.  Dang.  Week!
Not sure why I felt so busy when I spent most of the free-time I didn't think I had hitting the bong and drinking gin (note to all, especially co-workers and my trainer: I NO LONGER HIT THE BONG.  Please don't judge me.  My early 20's were spent in a marijuana-clouded stupor, but I really like my nursing license so that shit was cut from the roster).

When I moved to the Marshall Islands was probably the only time in my adult life when I haven't felt stressed by responsibilities.  My responsibilities there included: 1) show up to teach, 2) try to be on time, but if you're not, nobody really cares, 3) have something planned for the kids to do, 4) don't show the kids your knees, EVER, or they will think you're a prostitute, 5) have a pulse, 6) try not to die of dysentery.  It was pretty awesome.

Flash to nursing school: 12 credit hours of class per week + 16 hours of clinicals + 24 hours of work = 52 hours of committed time.  Even during nursing school, which every nurse who ever lived will tell you is the worst thing ever, I had 116 hours of unaccounted time each week.  I can tell you why I felt so busy with so much "free time," it all boils down to nursing care plans and memorizing medications.  Blerg.

Fast forward to now.

12 credit hours per week + 32 work hours per week = 44 hours of committed time each week.  (Truthfully, I have 50 committed hours, because I count my gym time as a commitment, not "free time.") I have 124 hours to sleep, cook, play with my dog, study, hang out with my husband, work out, etc.  I feel insanely busy, because again...I spend the majority of this free time studying.

But here's the point...

Everybody is given the exact same 24 hours per day to spend how they choose.

Nobody is guaranteed how many of these 24 hour periods they will get.

You can choose how to spend your days.

If you want to spend them laying on your couch watching Knight Rider re-runs, no judgement.  That actually sounds pretty awesome.  If you choose to spend them reading Hyperbole and a Half and screening your phone calls, invite me over.  If you choose to spend your "free time" asleep, with your kids, macrame-ing yourself a pair of jean shorts, cosplaying Twilight, teaching your dog to fetch your slippers, streaking down College Avenue, smoking crack, protesting, setting fireworks off at inappropriate times, or any other frickin weird hobby you may have, that's your prerogative.

"We're going streaking!  Through the quad, into the gymnasium!  You come too...bring your green hat!"
*NOTE: if this is your hobby, you are hilarious and I want to be best friends with you.  One of my best friends used to like to streak and flash back in our college days, and she is my favorite.  You could be my favorite, too (just saying)*

But I don't want to hear that you're "too busy" to work out or cook yourself healthy meals.

Guess what.
You're not.
You're just choosing to spend your time differently.

And that's fine.  Like I said, it's your life and you have every right to spend it however you want.  I am just growing weary of parents, students, newlyweds, business-owners, and people from pretty much all walks of life telling me they are "too busy" to make their health a priority.  That is straight-up bullshit.

Saying you are "too busy" is a weak excuse which will not be tolerated.  So if you use that excuse with me, be prepared to be called out on it.*

*Unless you are a single parent of 8 who works 90 hours a week and manages a menagerie of 35 pets by yourself while juggling chainsaws and simultaneously recovering from major abdominal surgery. Then you probably don't have time.  Everyone else though...

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.

This is basically what happens when my trainer makes me run...

It's funny because it's true.  It's painful because it's true.

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).

Happy

I am feeling extraordinarily happy today.

Just wanted to put that out there.

No rhyme or reason to it, I just feel really happy and really good, and I hope you guys do, too!