Sick of being sick

Sunday afternoon I felt the beginnings of a cold, but pushed it aside & went to yoga anyway, hoping to sweat it out.

Yeah, that didn’t work.

Monday I felt pretty crummy.  And I felt wrung out & sore & tired.  By Tuesday I was really feeling sick, by Wednesday I also had pink eye (it’s going around like crazy, kids & adults alike), and today I’m coughing and more congested but also have a dried out nose because of my nightly dose of Mucinex.

Needless to say, my new found love of yoga has been put on hold.  I’ve also been comforting myself with comfort food, because it’s the only thing I have to make me feel better that doesn’t require any energy.  Which I have none of (or, for preposition nazi’s, “Of which I have none.”)

My house is a mess, laundry is piled up, I’m behind at work, the kids’ both need baths, and I have nothing left to give any body.  My husband is working hard at work, and studying for his CFP test which he takes in March (that’s an extra 20 hours work a week right now).  So he’s not able to pick up much slack.

My mom came & got Luke today so at least he’s going to get proper attention (he’s been sick, too… he came with me to the office yesterday afternoon, & was such a trooper).  Mom retired last week (YAY!!) so she is keeping him tonight & bringing him home tomorrow afternoon.  Thankfully Sophie is doing OK, but now that I’ve typed that I’m sure she’ll come down with something.

So.  Healthy life interrupted.  But it’s only temporary.  I will eventually feel better.  I will eventually find the right track & get back on it, come hell or high water.

Until then, I’m going to pick up my daughter, head home, bemoan my disaster of a kitchen, make myself a cup of hot tea, and lay down & rest.  It’s the best I can do.  For now.

Yoga (175.0)

First, read this when you can. It speaks to me so deeply & helps me understand that what happened to me in 2009-2010 (the 30 pound weight gain) does not mean there's something wrong with me or I'm a failure or I can't get fit & healthy again. It helps to read it from someone else who's been there & writes books & "has it all together."

I wanted to write quickly about yoga. I've taken yoga off & on over the past 10 years, so I know most of the terms & positioning--enough that I'm not a total newbie anyway. But it's been quite a while and I'm packing extra pounds, so I didn't know how I'd do.

Saturday morning was super hard. This is hot yoga, which (if you're not familiar with this) means the studio is 101 degrees. You start sweating before you even move. It's a shock at first, then you get used to it--sort of. It sounds odd, but it is very cleansing for the body. And humbling. You can't wear heavy clothes in there to cover up any body fat, or you'll be way too hot. I knew in advance what to wear & what to expect from the heat.

I didn't know if I'd be able to do the whole 90 minutes or not. I sort of did. I stayed the whole time, but after about an hour we started warrior poses & I felt like I was going to throw up. I also felt light headed several times like I was going to pass out. I pushed through when I could, but when it was too much, I just sat or laid down & let it pass, then I got back at it. Another girl did the same thing, so that made me feel better.

Sunday afternoon was better. I only felt like I was going to throw up at the very end of class, & I never felt light headed during class (I think that's a morning exercise thing I have--used to happen to me when I was in my early 20s & sometimes lifted weights in the mornings). I have great balance & know how to keep my core tight to steady myself, so holding strong standing poses made me feel great. The instructor was very helpful too, on hints to improve each pose.

It was only two days of yoga, and I can't wait to go back for more. I almost started crying yesterday afternoon, when we were holding a pose a long time & it was a struggle to stay in position, but be damned if I was going to fall out of it. So I didn't. And it pushed me mentally more than anything. Tears started to well, I let them come for a brief second, then I pushed them back down. I wasn't in the mood for crying, but subconsciously I guess I needed to.

I'm hoping to run this afternoon...it's going to be 40 degrees today! A cloudy 40, but nonetheless, hopefully I'll be outside for about 45 minutes before picking up the kids.

Last week I exercised 6 days. I'm down 4 pounds since last Tuesday's rock bottom bottom. And look how much I've blogged! :D

My food was better, not perfect. I still have sugar issues--going to for a while, as I work through Karly Pitman's CD's and workbook. But I'm definitely more mindful of what I put in my shopping cart & my mouth. And I'm working on acceptance, self-care, and making time for exercise.



I have to replace the sugar endorphins with something. A good solid sweat seems to be my best option.

Sunday

Since Tuesday I've exercised 4 times-- two days of 30 minutes treadmill, one day 60 minutes treadmill, and yesterday 90 minute hot yoga class. Today I'm going to another yoga class at 3 pm.

Sundays I am usually a slug. I believe in God's commandment to rest--it's good to rest. But it's not helpful for me to be a lazy sloth of a human being and then feel worse at night and on Monday morning. So I'm trying something new today and hope it helps.

One of the CDs by Karly talks about being a highly sensitive person. I've known a long time I am highly sensitive. To other people's emotions, to others' needs, to sounds and smells and light, to group dynamics, to weather changes, even to the oppression of the intense negative energy in a WalMart. (I know this might sound weird--but if you're sensitive it might sound very familiar.)

I haven't heard someone talk about sensitivity like Karly has. It's so helpful to know I'm not alone.

More soon. I'm off to my yoga class.

What's next...

No weight today. Had Mexican with my friend Debra last night--we did well and split an order and didn't even finish the chip basket. I think I had like 8 or 9 chips. One chicken enchilada. And no margarita! That was the test, right there.

So, I was really bloated this morning and didn't feel the sadistic pull of the scale. So I skipped it.

Another snow day and day off school today. So tired of this white stuff. I didn't have a bad morning--it was quiet and lazy, which was nice.

Oh! And last night (Wednesday) I got home around 7:50 with the kids after their weekly church group program, and I got on the treadmill. I told the kids to get dressed for bed, got their snacks out, and told everyone I'd be on the TM for 35 minutes and would be unavailable. I walked only, but enough to sweat. I watched my show while walking so I didn't have the guilt with the pleasure. I was done at 8:50, and it felt amazing to have DONE IT instead of just talk or think about it. A short simple walk but what a payoff.

But today, I was more slothful. I had a couple hours computer work to do at home then took the kids with me to the office around 3 pm. I did eat some cookies this afternoon. It wasn't a binge, but it was sugar.

Tonight I left the office at 6 pm. Mark took the kids home and I got my hair cut and ran to Target. Nothing like getting your hair did to feel better. It helped to have a couple hours alone.

Which sort if segues to my title today. I'm going to do something different with my exercise. I've printed the schedule, outlined some times that will work, found some workout clothes, and dragged my old mat and bag out from under the bed.

Yoga. There's a hot yoga place between Luke's daycare and my office. I could run to it from work, it's that close. The class times aren't great, but I'm going to make some work. They are 90 minutes long!! I am planning on a class this weekend and then figuring out a schedule with Mark next week. I think he'll work with me on the business hours classes if I do my work at other times. Yoga is great for runners. The studio moved to this location about a year ago. It's been singing a siren song to me ever since. I took classes from them years ago, and I know the original studio owner (she sold the place a while back, but she still teaches). The parking lot is always full and they have 5 or 6 classes a day, and 3 classes each weekend day. So it's a good place.

With luck I'll be starting a yoga practice very soon.

Athlete Inside (176.6)

I made it to the gym yesterday. I left work at 3:10, which is crazy early (I had an appointment at 4:15 so I had to workout early), but I was NOT not going to workout yesterday. My husband is my boss. He knows what's going on with me. He wants me to work out as much as I want to work out. (& yes, I know how very fortunate & blessed I am to have his support.)

I only had 35 minutes. I hit the treadmill. I walked a few minutes to warm up, cranked up Third Day's album "Move" on my iPod, and started running. It's amazing what good music can do in your head to make your body move. This Third Day album has some rockin' tunes, & the message is meaningful, too.

I ran & ran & ran. I walked when I needed to, but mostly I ran.

I could feel her--that inner athlete fighting & screaming & begging to get out.

"I am a runner," she said. "Why have you left me in here for so long? I've missed you," she said. And then she finished off with "Now, get your ass moving & keep it moving so I don't have to beat the crap out of you."

I will be having a date with her again soon.

I finished with 3 minutes of abs & then stretching. I walked out of the gym feeling like I could conquer the world. The feeling pretty much kept me sane the rest of the night. I ate a good dinner. I didn't binge last night. I lost 2.4 pounds this morning.

All because of one 35 minute workout. Which happened because I blogged about it, & said I would.

That workout is the first of many, many, many more to come.

(I'm going to try the weight in the title thing again. We'll see how it goes. I think it helps when I'm losing, though. Accountability & all that. .

I changed the look of the blog a bit. Rearranged some elements on the side; updated my profile. I moved my blog history to the top....coincidence I blogged the most in 2008 AND was the fittest in my life? I. think. not.)

Rock bottom... bottom

Apparently rock bottom was, in fact, not the bottom.

Friday night we went out with a group of friends & had a great time. I was feeling that Friday "high" the Western world gets the day before the weekend. I've felt down so much lately, & feeling UP was heady. We went to a local pizza place, & I had two drinks, & felt giddy. I laughed & had fun. I ate breadsticks & pizza, just like everyone else.

The next day, I felt rotten. I ate too much all day Saturday, and felt the sugar affects in my mood & my bloated body. And the SAD impact was horrible.

Saturday night we took the kids to play indoor golf, & my size 16 jeans weren't loose. They fit. I'd just washed & dried them, so they were doing that "fresh from the dryer, tighter than usual" thing, but still. I started crying & had to stop myself because we were getting ready to leave. I felt horrible all night, but had to make myself have fun because it was our family time. And I love, love, love my husband & my kids. But I don't love myself right now. So I was faking it a good part of the night.

Sunday I could not get out of bed. Sunday morning I felt crushed under the weight (no pun intended) of it all.

I teach Sunday School to the 2 & 3 year olds (which I love doing--they are precious, fun kiddos) and I couldn't make myself get out of bed to do something I love & see children I love.

I wanted to crawl in a hole & stay there until... until.... well, I guess until the sun came out or I melted away to next to nothing. I guess I didn't think about the "until" very much. I just wanted a deep dark hole to crawl in and stay in.

So I did. My husband let me stay home Sunday morning & taught my class for me. Whether or not this was love or enabling, I don't know. But he knows me well enough to know when I say I can't, I can't.

I stayed in bed most of the day. I slept, I watched TV. I ate. I came out in the evening to hang out with Mark & the kids & watch football & eat dinner from Papa Johns (more breadsticks, more pizza).

Then Monday was MLK Day & the stock market was closed, so we stayed home from work. I felt better yesterday morning. I didn't need a hole to crawl in at least. I slept late, but when I got up I was productive. I did laundry & cleaned the kitchen. I also got a bath & walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes, and stretched & did some crunches. Then we took the kids to the children's museum, and we all had fun together. I ate better. No pizza, ha. I wasn't perfect but I did keep the junk food out at least.

Last night I did more laundry (it. never. ends.) and watched some TV. I cleaned out my workout clothes drawer & packed away my size Mediums to make room for my size Larges. I got my weights out from under the bed & did some arm work. I haven't done that in ages. It felt good. At least it was SOMETHING.

This morning, I thought I better weigh because I hadn't in a while. I had already had my coffee & breakfast, and I normally only weigh "empty" (which I know Vickie has a strong opinion against, & I'm sure she's right--empty doesn't paint the real picture for most of Us).

So I wasn't empty. But I sure didn't eat an 8 pound breakfast.

I weighed 179.0

That, ladies, is the precipice for me. 180 is beyond what I can wrap my head around. It's The Weight that I hit when I'd been on prozac in my mid-twenties & gained 40 pounds in one year--the weight that made me miserable for a decade. The weight that I swore I'd never see again.

And now I'm one freaking pound away from it.

I felt so helpless & hopeless this morning. More "why am I like this?" and "how am I ever going to lose this weight?" and "where's that hole I can crawl back into?"

But, it does help to write out the past four days & SEE what I ate & how I behaved. So I can SEE the WHY behind 179 pounds.

It's not pretty. No wonder I gained weight. TV, Pizza, Sloth. That would put weight on Twiggy.

So. I have no idea where that leaves me, other than I'm not giving up. I need to go to the thrift store & buy some size 14 clothes. I have nothing to wear, but I'm not spending a lot of money on clothing I don't plan to be in for long. I need to stop watching so darn much TV (I'm hooked on Battlestar Gallactica on Netflix Ondemand--it's like a novel you can't put down). I need to find the "magic" from 2007 that gave me the consistency I needed to lose 50 pounds in 7 months. I need to get my head out of this self-inflicted hole in the ground & DO something about this.

Today, that means blogging. And hopefully going to the gym at 3 p.m. today. Then, finding the next step & the next & the next.

I'll be here again soon. It's my lifeline right now. I've tied a knot & I'm holding on. I don't want to fall any further.

Untitled Thursday

I've been listening to the CD's I got from Karly Randolph Pitman, that I received as part of her Growing Human Kindness program. Holy cow. Powerful stuff. I'm listening in the car & not getting to do all the workbook exercises yet. I'm learning more about my sugar addiction and food issues than I ever have.

I feel like I've had the "SHOULD" information on how to lose weight for years--what I should be doing to get healthy & stop bingeing. With her program, I fee like I'm finally getting some of the answers to why I haven't been able to Just Do It.

It's late & I don't have much time, so I won't go into the details right now. But I will tell you that I've learned that when I was running, I wasn't just burning calories and keeping my weight off. I was filling a deep need I have for many things--serotonin, self-love, and me-time, for starters. When I stopped running, my needs didn't go away; I just started taking care of them with food again.

I guess this might not be revolutionary on the surface. What IS revolutionary, for me, is hearing someone put into words the EXACT things I say to myself & think to myself every day.

Just this morning, I was lying on my bathroom floor, crying & having a mini-breakdown (yeah, my SAD is in high gear right now) and I kept saying to myself, "why am I so broken? why can't I fix this? why do I have to feel like this?" A couple of hours later, after I'd pulled myself together & gotten ready for work, I was in the car listening to her CD, and she used the words "broken, fixed, & why" over & over in the same context I was feeling them this morning--and she had remarkable things to say about WHY I'M NOT BROKEN. I can't really express it clearly. But it was powerful. And I want to learn more.

She also talks about why sugar cravings build & build until they are unstoppable. Which is what happened to me last night. I've been doing well. Weighed 171.8 yesterday morning. Staying away from junk food. Not eating at night. Then last night, after several unmet needs got pushed down & awful season affective disorder feelings washed over & through me, I just gave in. It was a release. It felt wonderful just to let go.

Then, of course, 15 minutes later I felt remorse & cried & got mad at myself. But thankfully, something's sinking in because I didn't continue to eat in the middle of night, and this morning I went right back to a healthy breakfast. Today my food has been okay, too. And I don't feel the urge to eat sugar. Not at the moment anyway.

And right now, I'm cherishing those moments.

I cannot express how much I need winter to be over. Anybody on the East coast surely feels the same, only about ten times as much, I'm sure, with all the snow you've gotten. Every day closer to March 1st is a day closer to freedom for me. The sky was still light at 5 p.m. tonight. A sign of better days to come.

Victories

Thank you all for your encouragement. It means so much to me & lifted me up this week.

It's pretty interesting what happens when you stop filling your body with sugar to get numb, and start listening to yourself instead.

Wednesday night I could physically feel the compulsion to EAT after the kids were in bed & the house was quiet & it was just me and the kitchen. I walked from the family room/kitchen with my hot tea & Kindle in hand, into my bedroom, and the compulsion STOPPED. Stopped dead. I had been off sugary junk for two days, so I didn't feel a sugar craving from just having eaten sugar. It was a Pavlov's response craving, a conditioned routine. I knew this happened already--have even blogged about it--but I hadn't *felt it* in my bones before. The startling change that happened when I got into my bed with my tea and book--the need to eat was just gone.

Then last night, I had PMS really bad. It was Luke's gymnastics night, so we got home at 7 p.m. & I still needed to cook dinner & do the usual routine. I was grouchy & tired. I didn't get to workout like I'd planned to after work. I felt crummy. Normally I'd have grabbed some kind of sugary food or an alcoholic beverage to chill out. But, I thought about the self-care that Karly talks about, and that's what I did instead. I cooked a good healthy meal & sat down & ate it. I did allow myself some frozen cool whip as soon as I finished dinner (which was protein & veggies)--this is sugar, I realize, and I know it's potentially dangerous ground, but it was not ice cream (which is what I really wanted), I ate it with a lot of protein, and it stopped the PMS cravings. I had about 20 grams of sugar. It didn't push me into a binge. I didn't eat anything else all night.

I asked the kids to unload the dishwasher. I asked Mark to help them get ready for bed. I cleaned the dishes but left the rest of the kitchen kind of a mess--I was too tired to clean up any more. I got the kids settled down quickly. Mark was having a bad night too, and he had claimed the bedroom already with his TV show, so I was on the couch in the family room. I knew this could be binge triggering but I sat & listened to myself--I felt no cravings, no pulls for more sugar comfort. I laid down at 9:30 p.m. with my Kindle to read but I just kept my eyes closed & prayed & meditated, and fell asleep.

My husband woke me up at 11:30 p.m. to come to bed, which irritated me because I was really sleeping well, but I didn't eat (which I would have done in the past) and just went to bed & back to sleep.

Sorry for the minute detail--just felt like I wanted to write out how a night went that could have ended in disaster, but didn't.

The Big Victories this week are these:
*Ate breakfast every morning, at home
*Ate healthy snacks at work
*Ate lunch at work, of homemade healthy food--NO fast food or restaurant meals. This is a HUGE deal for me.
*Ate healthy dinners that were low or no carb (and again, no fast food or restaurant meals)
*NO night eating at all. None. Another huge deal.
*Exercised (3 miles walk/run) outside in 32 degree weather, and loved it.
*Wrote everything down--food, feelings, weight.
*Weighed 175.6 on Monday-- weighed 172.6 today.

I've got a list of goals/rewards for myself--both scale & non-scale related--that I am hoping will spur me on.

Have a great weekend. Hopefully I'll be around here more often now. I sure need this. It helps a lot to share.

Rock Bottom

I hit it. On Monday, January 3rd, 2011.

We'd had a wonderful weekend away as a family in Nashville, TN, celebrating the new year downtown & then spending the weekend at the fabulous Opryland Hotel. I couldn't wear my Levi's that I brought with me--how'd they get so tight?--so I was stuck in one pair of jeans & one pair of dress pants that require Spanx pantyhose. I was wearing a coat a lot of the time, so I wasn't really hyper aware of my clothing. I just tried to ignore it. I didn't bother bringing a swim suit for the pool. Mark took the kids swimming while I cleaned up the room on the last day of our stay. I'd planned that before we even left home.

Then Monday morning, when it was time for work, I tried on some dress pants that I'd worn a couple weeks before--I'd been wearing the same stretchy jeans pretty much every day for the few days I worked at the office over the holidays, so I hadn't put on these dress pants for at least 2 weeks--and I could zip them & pull them up, but they looked horrible. And my back fat was BACK, in force. And my shirts didn't cover anything up.

I was desperate. Size 12s are the biggest size I have. But I can't wear my 12s. What do I do?

The unthinkable.

From the dark, untouched and unloved back of the closet, I pulled out "The Before" jeans.

The size 16s that my size 8 body used to prance around in and say "look how big these jeans are! Wow, I can't believe I used to wear these humongous things." Those jeans.

They fit. Well, they are big on me, but not that big. They are comfortable on my body, but they made me sick to my stomach.

I walked around all day Monday in a fog. A post-vacation fog, because I'd had two really great weeks with my kids and husband, and a depressed "how did I let this happen to ME?" fog.

Before the New Year I had already realized I was in big trouble & I needed to DO something for real this time. We went to see "True Grit" the Tuesday before Christmas, and there is a scene where Jeff Bridges as Rooster Cogburn is passed out on a cot in the backroom of a Chinese man's shop. Mattie Ross comes in to get Rooster to help her avenge her father's murder, but Rooster is worthless, hungover from his alcohol binge the night before. She's disgusted with him, tells him she'd believed all the stories of his true grit, but all he showed her was what a drunkard he was.

That scene, for some God given reason, hit me in the gut--I am Rooster Cogburn.

Oh, there's talk that I'm a half-marathon runner & I lost 55 pounds a few years ago, and I am an inspiration to many women just like me. I play with my kids in pools & the backyard, and I'm comfortable and happy in social situations. My husband thinks I'm sexy and I love to shop for cute clothes. I'm pretty, normal, and fit in with the fit moms at the pool in the summer time.

But the harsh reality is--I'm a sugar addict. I've been binging on sugar for the past year or so, and it's caught up with me. On more than one occasion I've snapped at my kids because I was deep in the sugar & wanted to stay there, but they insisted on needing my attention so I got angry at them. The day I yelled at Sophie for something stupid, and made her upset for two hours while I slept in my bedroom because I was "tired" but I was really sleeping off a sugar coma--that day was the tipping point. I didn't know it was the tipping point, because I hadn't seen "True Grit" yet.

But when I saw that scene in the movie just a few days after my sugar-rage, I knew deep in my bones I have a serious problem.

I've danced around this before. The Potatoes Not Prozac book. The Crack the Fat Loss Code diet. SouthBeach. Atkins. Any time I eat like those diets say to eat, I feel better. I look better. I lose weight.

Before New Year's weekend, I searched online for something else. Something that could help me FIX what's wrong with me, not just another diet.

I found this book online & downloaded it so I can read it on my Kindle. I also ordered her workbook & CD's on Becoming Binge Free. I found Jill's name (of the Sassy Pear) in the Introduction of the workbook, as a friend & fellow blogger of the author, so I knew I must be on the right track, 'cause Jill & I are like peas & carrots. :-)

And since Monday I've been journaling my food, my weight, my emotions. I've been eating sugar free since Monday night. I'm eating some fruit, some carbs, but I'm being very careful to watch how the carbs make me feel. Do they create sugar cravings after I eat them? So far I'm doing OK.

And I walked/ran outside yesterday for the first time since my Dad's funeral. It was brisk and the sun was setting in a blue sky, and when I ran, I felt free.

I know this isn't a GO PERFECT OR GO HOME deal. I'm going to fail. But I will just start again.

It's January. Gosh darn it, there's a reason people make resolutions & feel like there's a clean slate at the beginning of the year. Because December sucks the life out of you, that's why. If you can't declare New Life in January, you might as well lay down & die with the dried out Christmas trees.

I'm not lying down to die. Nope. I'm back on the horse, yet again. One more time. Maybe it will stick this time a little longer than the last. I hope so. I'm ready to get the old new me back again.