Simply Someday

It's Anything But Simple, But It's My Life

Weighing Me Down

scale¬†Much of my life seems to be weights and measurements these days. It’s not a bad thing, just a reality for me. I weigh my foods, look at measurements – is that 3/4 cup or 2/3 cups of yogurt? Half an avocado is how many grams? I weigh myself once a week.

I had always said I would never own a scale, I refused to be a slave to the number I saw staring back at me. I didn’t want to think better or worse of myself based on a numeric measurement. A scale can’t weigh my personality; how I love, how I play.

On this journey, I’ve come to realize that a scale is just a tool. It’s not my enemy, or a commentary on who I am as a person. It’s just a tool to help me, if there is a gain (and damn, there was 3 weeks ago) I feel motivated to figure out why and to change it. If it reflects a loss; I feel victorious, like all the hard work is paying off.

So this seems to be my new weigh (ha ha!) of life. I don’t mind, it’s keeping me on track, by using both the kitchen tools and the scale, things are going in a good direction. If I slack and don’t use them, I have found I over-estimate – more like wishful thinking!

15 lbs down, a zillion more to go, the number doesn’t matter nearly as much as how great I’m feeling.

Cheers! Happy Monday ūüôā

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One Month In…

20130222-075913.jpg¬†One month in and I’m still at it. I’m still eating properly, exercising(ish) and trying to live a better and healthier life. There’s been a few roadblocks, I got the mumps (yes, seriously) which put everything on hold for 2 weeks, and we had a mini vacation.

I have learned a bit in this last month, I learned I eat when I’m: bored, sad, angry, tired, happy, silly, etc… So pretty much I’m happy to eat ALL THE TIMES. This clearly isn’t good for me, my waistline, or my body. So I’m learning to eat when I’m hungry. I’m feeding myself at regular intervals, not just whenever. I eat 5 small meals/snacks a day. It’s keeping me full, and satiated throughout my day. I’ve learned I can make better choices if the better choices are available. I can’t eat well if I don’t have good food in the fridge. I’ve learned that for me, planning is key. If I just leave my meals up to spur of the moment choices I won’t eat healthy. I now spend a portion of my Sunday’s preparing food for my week. Having ready-made, easy to grab food has been so important to keeping me on track.

I’ve been using an app, (there’s an app for everything right?) called My Fitness Pal, I have been using it religiously to count my caloric intake, count my steps and log in any exercise I do. I have been very honest with it. If I eat something that isn’t ‘healthy’ I log it. I need to be accountable for my shitty choices and my good ones.

I’m feeling pretty good. Turning 40 for me was a wake up. I had several changes to make and I’m making them. I have the most supportive family, they are making all of this so much easier…the family that planks together stays together! It’s been a hoot doing zumba with Elliot and Pais in the living room, and watching the two of them compete in push up challenges. I’m so proud of us all. We are all sharing in this journey.

I’m hoping to blog more about my journey, my ups and downs, the good bad and ugly. Read if you want, don’t if you don’t. It’s all good. I’m doing this for me after all…not you.

*Successes

  • Wedding rings/clothes are loose
  • Enjoying exercising
  • Drinking more water

Cheers!

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¬† So, I’m doing this thing. If you read my last post you know how sad and frustrated I am with my body. I HATE what I’ve let myself become. I hate how I feel, how I look, how unhealthy I am. I’m 40 and feel 60, my body hurts to move, I would think of nothing of not eating veggies for days, or drinking water – just diet coke and coffee. I chose not to apply for my dream job because I am too scared of what others will think of me…did I seriously just write that? Well shit. That there is as honest as it gets.

Well the time has come to change me. My mindset, my eating, my activity levels, everything. It all has to change, and I’ve begun the process of revamping myself.

More to come…

 

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Dear Body,

Dear Body,

Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t hate you. I mean you’d never know it with the way I’ve treated you for the last 40 years. I’m a horrible owner.

The thing is though, I hate what you’ve become. It’s like you’re this garbage can, you continue to hold in all the shit I put into you. The shit food, the shit drinks, the cigarette smoke for 25 years off and on. The chemicals, the additives, preservatives, and red dyes…I put things into you that I can’t pronounce, spell or say.

I hate that you are hard to move. I hate that some mornings I feel so much older than 40. I hate that I can’t run. I hate that I am embarrassed of you, that I try to hide you under layers and baggy clothes. I hate that I am afraid of exercising outside of my house because of what other people might say. I hate having to shop for fat girl clothes in specialized shops. I hate pretending to be fat positive, and body positive, when inside I’m cringing at what I’ve let myself do to you.

I hate that when I look into a mirror, I don’t recognize the person staring back at me. I’m not her. I would never let myself get this way – except I did, and it is me staring back.

I hate being naked, I hate showing you to the one I love. Showing myself to him feels like I’m revealing my worst secrets, I can’t hide what I’ve let you become.

I hate that my beautiful daughter has a mum who looks like me. I remember how I felt when my own mum was overweight. I remember the looks, I remember the snickers. Now I’m that mum. She shouldn’t ever have to hear or see what I did.

I’m so sorry dear body. I’m so sorry I’ve done this to you. I’m sorry I’m afraid to change. I’m sorry I’m not brave enough to go to the gym yet. I’m sorry I’ve fed you horribly. It’s so much easier to eat your feelings rather than deal with them head on. I’m so sorry it’s taken me 40 years to decide to change. I’m sorry I can’t run, I can’t jump yet.

I’m sorry I don’t know how much power you have, I’m sorry I’ve never pushed you hard or long enough to know what my limits are, or how far away they are. I plan on finding out though.

I plan on finding out dear body. I am going to push you, I am going to make you angry at me, I am going to punish myself for punishing you. I want you to feel strong. I want you to feel fit, I want you to feel whole.

I plan on making you work. I want to sweat, I want to feel muscles I’ve long forgot about. I want my face to be red, legs to feel like Jello, and I want to fight to breathe. I want to kick my ass.

Again dear body, I apologize, but I’m changing. I promise.

 

C.

 

 

 

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Keeping Regular

willieWillie Nelson once said “I like myself better when I’m writing regularly”.

I’d have to agree with him. I like myself better when I take the time to sit down and put my words down. ¬†However mundane, witless, or boring; I just feel centered, more in touch with my life.

Like any person, I don’t generally take the time for myself. I don’t spend the time I’d like to spend writing. ¬†There is always something to be done, or finally at the end of the day I feel like my brain is mush. I don’t know how I did it as a student. It seemed no matter how tired, hung over, or even drunk I was, I still managed to write and get kick ass grades. Somehow I’m guessing I would score far less stellar marks. Far. Less. Stellar.

I think part of the reason I do this whole stop and start thing to my writing is, I stop when things are going well, writing has always been my ‘therapy’ and when life is good, I don’t need it. I tend to turn to my blog when things are shitty, sad, or I’m angry. Right now, I’m none of those things. Life is wonderful. Really fucking good actually.

Elliot has been here since June, he’s actually back in Wisconsin for a few weeks visiting Family. There’s a new niece, and people who’ve missed him tons! Joel has been here since May, my daycare is full and my Paisley is awesome. She loves school and is doing great.

I’ve talked about making our third bedroom an office/writing area for us, I’m really hoping to do it soon. I think if I can get my ass away from everyone else and all the household distractions, I may actually sit and write more often. Here’s hoping.

So my goal for the next 2 weeks is to spit out 3 blogs. It’s time to get this train back on the tracks.

One more quote. This one by Cyril Connolly:¬†¬†Better to write for yourself, and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.”

That Cyril Connolly was a smart lad.

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The ELEPHANT In The Room

Do you see it?

Do you see it?

My entire life I’ve felt like the elephant in the room, not in the traditional sense of the phrase, but more literally.

Since puberty, I’ve been curvy. So since about 10 when I got boobs, I’ve always been slightly bigger than my friends. As I became an adult I’ve packed on the weight. Dealing with depressive episodes, life circumstances, and boredem, I turned to food to fill this void.

Now, I am fat. Yep, I said it. FAT not to be confused with Phat…but I’m that too (Pretty, Hot, and Tempting). I embrace it to a degree, I don’t mind being curvy, I like boobs and butts, but, I’ve reached a point beyond that. I’m not comfortable in my own skin.

When I’m with my family and friends it’s obvious that I am the largest person in the room, when shopping I can’t get the latest fashions or styles without spending a fortune.

In this day and age when society is on a push to be fat positive, and to be body positive regardless of shape and size, I find myself being embarrassed that I don’t. I am ashamed that I look at the pictures and compare myself to them and think, “well, I’m even bigger than that, I don’t even fit here”.

To go along with my body shape/size, I also have a big personality which I think just exacerbates and brings to the forefront, my physical size. I’m the ‘biggest’ in every sense of the word.

So now what? Like many women, I’ve tried the diets, starvation, weight watchers, vegetarian diet, high protein low carb. I’ve tried intuitive eating…the problem with that one was, I intuitively always want to eat…ice cream, chips, pop corn…. I had very good successes with numerous attempts at weight watchers, but due to money and lack thereof it was something that is just a luxury I can’t afford. I’ve had gym memberships which have also gone the way of weight watchers. I love the gym, I love Zumba, swimming, dance areobics…but being a single mum with limited time and income, the gym isn’t something that fits into my life. People tell me that I have to make fitness a priority, which I agree with, but caring for my daughter is the biggest priority.

I enjoy walking, but again, when I have 2 hours between finishing work and Paisley’s bedtime, It’s tough to fit in dinner, baths, books, and cleanup, let alone an hour to walk each night, or even every other night. I’ve tried Zumba on the Wii, but there’s something sad and depressing about doing it in my small living-room alone. Sigh.

I’m not sure what the answer is. I enjoy playing games in the yard with the kids, tag, soccer, races. These things get my heart rate up, but not as much as it should.

I’m not making excuses, I know why I am the size I am. Now I just have to find something that works for me. Something I can stick to, something that I find satisfying and that will keep me motivated!

Ideas? Suggestions?

 

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