Check...

Last week I met a stale mate.

I work out hard, I eat healthy, and did I mention I work out REALLY hard? Every week I measure my healthy eating/working out success by getting measured, go figure. For some reason unknown my nutritionist/measure...er was away for two weeks which left a fair bit of time in between my next scheduled "measuring." Therefore I took this opportunity to really work myself hard. I ate like a squirell, and I worked out like an athlete...a chubby athlete...but nonetheless I worked out to the best of my abilities. I sweat for 14 long days until I wanted to cry, and to be truthful, one of those days I did cry. I completely exhausted myself, and I was pretty hopeful about pulling a good number when I stepped on that cold glass scale.

I'm not even sure that I can fully describe the disappointment I felt when I went and weighed in. I stepped up to that little scale full of anticipation. I even got on holding my breath, as if that would magically make me weigh less, and then up came my number. I had to bend over just to make sure that it was only one pound less than two weeks before. I felt like one of those cartoons where their eyes suddenly pop out of their heads. I took a breath and thought to myself "@#$%^*+&!!!" I think I said every cuss word I know in my head within about one second. A mere, "Wow," was all that actually escaped past my lips.

I started thinking about my last two weeks of intense training. I worked out with the constant fear of doing all of this hard work with nothing to show for it. One pound in two weeks equals nothing to show for to me, and it's exactly what I got. Now I'm beginning to think that you get what you put out there. Think negative, get negative results. This is my week to think positive, get positive results.

There will be no stale mate at the end of this week, it will all be good. Onward and, in this case, downward.

Inside My Head

Since I've started working out I keep imagining my new body, what it might look like when I reach my fitness goal. In every one of my imagination sessions I am wearing a bikini and have a six pack. This daydream is always shattered by what I see when I'm actually working out in a room covered in mirrored walls. I begin to realize that my body is still mostly the same with all of its jiggle parts and pieces that are still there, and I find myself thinking, "Who is this person and what has she done to my body? How did I let myself get this way?"

Most of the women in the classes I have been beating myself up in are relatively fit. I am not. Every knee lift, squat, lunge etc burns me like a raging fire. Never in my life worked so hard and been so sore. Every class to me is like attending a torture session that I willingly bring myself back to 5 times a week. It's like saying, "please make me sweat until I want to cry and then puke, I like it." There is a reason I keep going back. It would be easy not to go back, but I want to be healthy, and I need to work at it.

I think that I finally understand why I've let myself lose weight and gain it back in the past. It wasn't really that hard, the losing weight by changing my diet part. To a degree it is hard to deprive yourself of certain foods, but a change in diet is has never made me sweat until every part of my body is drenched, or made me feel like I've been run over by a 18 wheeler. I have never worked to achieve the level of fitness that I am striving for right now. I have never sweat, toiled and cried to become the person I want to be, to be the person I see myself to be. It makes the aspect of the change in diet feel like a walk in the park.

I suppose you might be able to compare the work to a teenager working and saving up to get their own car. They will appreciate it more than a teenager that given their first vehicle. I am working and I will appreciate it. "Who is this person and what is she doing to change my body?" Might be a more appropriate question that I ask myself the next time I am in my mirrored self inflicted torture chamber.

Be Careful What You Wish For...

Have you ever wished you could suck in certain parts of your body? I mean, besides the obvious area's where you can suck in? Having a generously rounded bottom, I've often imagined being able to "suck in" my bum. The majority of my life I've been plauged with two annoying, yet familiar dimples on my vuluptuous bottom area. In light of that, I've recently embarked on a mission to perfect the less than perfect area's of my body, being as, just about all of my body parts are generously rounded. I've been busy eating like a squirrel and have taken up going to step class. Being a little less than coordinated, me participating in a step class is like watching an giraffe doing a jig in high heel shoes. The point is, I've been working pretty hard for about three weeks now and have been pretty happy with my decrease in pants size.

I stepped out of the shower the other morning admiring the new changes happening to my body, and was appalled to discover that in the place of the familiar two dimples on my rounded bottom, there are now four. It's as though my bottom has heard my wishes for the miraculous sucking in ability and has begun the process, creating two extra unwanted potholes. Unwilling to believe my eyes I backed up a little closer to examine this newfound catastroph. I had to count outloud just to make sure I was absolutely correct. "1.....2....3..4.. AH!"

I have to confess that I was a little disenchanted. All my hard work to create more dimples than I already had in the first place? I moped off to bed and shared my sad news with my husband. He laughed. "Only you would notice something like that," he managed to chuckle. That may be true, but maybe not.

Despite this little speed bump, I will not be discouraged from sweating until my face is purple and "step classing" until I want to fall over. My journey to a non dimpley bottom will continue, I will not stop until I am happy with my results. I will, however, be careful what I wish for.

Sleepless Nights

I think I've decided that I'm not allowed to watch the news at night anymore for the sake of my rest. Last night I lay in bed trying to sleep. My effort to doze off was being interrupted by all the thoughts flying around in my head. They were like hundreds of little bits of dust in a wind storm chasing each other around in a continuous funnel of , "did I remembers and I need to do this'." Usually when I find myself over run with thoughts that keep me awake I try to imagine something uninteresting. For instance a brick wall, or a piece of gray slate, you know, something dull to keep the pesky bits of information from overrunning my brain. I don't generally have this type of problem on a regular basis mind you. Usually the steady drone of the fan and my husbands snoring do the trick. Well, If I think about that a bit more, the fan is to drown out my husbands snoring so I take that back, just the sound of the fan usually does the trick. The mind trickery of the dull images might have worked if I didn't have such a vivid imagination, in which I could imagine my gray slate turning in a tunnel to some strange exotic place or my brick wall rearranging itself to reveal a mystical castle. Needless to say I had a lot of time to think before I finally went to sleep last night.

I have to say that watching the news before bed influenced most of the thoughts that were spinning around my mind. Half an hour of information on the devistation that the N1H1 virus is having throughout Canada is a little unsettling. It made me wonder if the media is playing up this particular flu, being as a the nurse who took my blood the other day said that a lot of people die from flus on a regular basis, or if this really is truly something to be feared. The thought of it keeping my weary eyes focused on the ceiling most of the night gives away my stance on the matter. That, and the fact that my hands resemble something close to a piece of gritty sandpaper, from scalding myself repeatedly with the bathroom faucet everytime I touch beyond my desk bubble at work. I supposed that I kept up my hand scrubbing I should be alright.

At some point my thoughts of mass hysteria of a pandemic must have faded into the background of my busy little mind. After some groggy tossing, and a small battle over my half of the blanket and bed, of which I remain the constant loser, I did end up drifing off. The next sound I heard was the annoying , "buzzzzzz," of mornings call. I stumbled down the stairs with my eyes closed groaning like a zombie zoning in on my next victim, the coffee pot. After pouring what I like to call, sludgey goodness, with my coffee in hand I made my way to the tv and made myself comfortable. Then, just like that, with the click of a button the wind and whirling bits dust returned...

My Twisted Day...mare

Lately I keep picturing myself in the middle of a lake treading water. When I imagine myself there the sky is always looming grey with threatening clouds overhead. It's just me and the heat of my breath creating steam against the cold water. I'm getting tired, like I've been there for a while. My arms and legs are beginning to feel heavy, and my every muscle burns like a hotly stoked fire, with each stroke I take to keep myself above the cold depths that are encasing my steadily tiring body. My hair is cold and wet, forming a dark splay across the side of my pale face. The only sound I can hear is my labored breath and the splash of my numbing fingers breaking the surface of the black placid water.

My thoughts are fuzzy from the exhaustion I feel and I'm unsure how I ended up in the middle of this unforgiving icy water . I keep treading with my burning arms and legs resisting the stillness that would sink me into a bottomless abyss .

This day...mare is symbolic of my life right now. I do feel like I'm drowning. I feel like my every movement is a strenuous effort, and I can't catch my pitiful breath. I welcome the moment when the sun breaks through the gloomy ominous clouds and shines on my face. I will drink it in like a thirsty desert sand. I will soak up the memory and store it away for moments when I find myself in frigid waters splashing to keep my head above the water.

Approval

It's absurd the amount approval we seek from other people. Even when it comes to random things like, hairstyles,clothing, or even a new diet. I completely respect people who love themselves enough to disregard other people's negativity, and do things for their own well being and happiness. I think that a certain amount of approval is good, but there are times when you need to think for yourself and just worry about what is good and healthy for you.

Young children are the perfect clean slate. The only people they seek approval from is their parents. I went out to the grocery store the other day, and there was a little girl wearing a pink ruffled tutu over her pants with a bright yellow rain jacket. I smiled to myself because it reminded me of being carefree and light hearted. It made me wonder about the last time I had been that way.

I remembered being a child in elementary school, holding onto a test I'd just received with a poor mark. I was standing there helplessly stomach curling, and ears running hot as I watched the rest of my classmates run to and from one another asking what mark the other had received. I knew eventually they would reach me and ask what mark I had received. The thought of my failure being put on display for everyone to judge drew a nauseating feeling from the depth of my toes. Those types of feelings would then fan into my adolescence, not just from the odd test flop, but from the clothes I would decide to wear and so on and so forth. My every move was wrought with fear of having someone disapprove of what I was wearing, how I cut my hair, or how much I weighed.

From pink tutu's and yellow rain jackets, to adolescent angst, the transition from loving yourself, to seeking approval from others is so swift. A blink of an eye. It is time that more of us worry about what makes us happy, and seek out some approval from within.

Random Venting....

Okay I suppose I could tie this into the whole stress weight gain factor. Stress makes you gain weight/hold onto weight. It's bad and one could do yoga, go the the gym, yell at your spouse etc to release that stress. I prefer to vent and on that note I will begin venting now...

Bullies in the workplace.

I sit beside a bully at work. I think there must be at least one bully in every workplace. I often wonder if these people slide right through school bullying straight into workplace bullying, or if they have to work their way up to it. A Lesson for parents who give into their child's every whim, "You are only hurting the rest of us." A bully feels it is every one's duty but their own to appease them and make them happy. Either way, the outcome of a bully can only wind up with a disgruntled employee (victim of the bully) sitting in their office chair envisioning slapping their co-worker (the bully) across the face, while the rest of the office staff stands up and applauds loudly as the disgruntled victim stands and takes a bow.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I digress. Ahhhhh much better.