So.... I'm still alive. It's been crazy around here-- just like your life, I'm sure. I've been sick, the kids have been sick, we hosted Thanksgiving, and it's fourth quarter. Whew! Lots & lots & lots going on.
I had one great workout week at the gym the week of 11/15, and then NADA. Between the holiday and health issues (I've had a killer virus for 7 days now, and Luke is still sick too) I haven't been back.
But. I had to buy size 12 clothes at JC Penney (luckily BIG sales on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving) so I had something to wear for the colder weather. And it's been a big eye opener for me. I don't want to be a size 12. More than that, I don't want to be a size 14.
After Thanksgiving I weighed 172 pounds. UGH! That's way way way more than I thought I'd be again. It can't go any farther than that. It just can't.
So I'm trying again. I'm really, really trying. I hate the word TRY, though. It inherently has failure baked in. Like Yoda, I believe in DO or DO NOT... there is no TRY. But regardless of the word I use for it, I'm making the mental effort again.
I just don't want to be one of those people who start a diet or exercise program on January 2nd. Because that's also laden with failure-vibes.
I want to be a regular at the gym the entire month of December. Or if not the gym, on my treadmill at home (yeah, um, we have a treadmill for the first time ever & what do I do? I gain 20 pounds in a year).
So that's what's up with me. Going into the busiest time of the year, & I'm hoping to get back in the gym & start eating right again.
I'm watching The Biggest Loser episodes online for inspiration. Those people are amazing.
I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving & have a joy-filled holiday season.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Good week
I'm doing ok this week. I joined a cheap gym last week, Fitness 19. Have you heard of this chain of gyms? I paid a one time joining fee and then pay $9 a month with no contract. And it's a great facility. No frills, but all the equipment and nice and bright and new.
My focus is weight lifting. I need to build muscle and I like being strong. I've missed my muscles! I went once last week, on Friday when I joined. This week I went 3 times and did weights (Monday I also did 2 miles on the treadmill), about 30 minutes of weights and 10 minutes of TM each time to warm up. Also stretching after for a few minutes. I got one more day in of 30 minutes run/walking. Four days of sweating. Not bad.
And I'm already feeling stronger.
I had one really great night of saying no to night eating, and I felt great the next morning. Next time I want a bowl of cereal at 11 pm, I'm going to remember that feeling. The rest of my nights were half ok and half horrible. I'm shooting for more good than bad nights next week.
Tomorrow we are going to dad's house to start packing his stuff. Not going to be fun, but it will be okay. It's already been 6 weeks since he died. Hard to believe it's gone by so fast.
Kids are great. Luke turned 5 last Saturday. He had a fun party. Sophie is doing so well in school. We keep the bad foods out of her body, she stays migraine free. It's amazing.
We are hosting Mark's family for turkey day, which will be work but fun. He's got a great family.
Next week, my goal is weights and cardio, 3 times each.
I don't know why I used "great" so much in this post. Tired and lazy tonight, I guess.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
My focus is weight lifting. I need to build muscle and I like being strong. I've missed my muscles! I went once last week, on Friday when I joined. This week I went 3 times and did weights (Monday I also did 2 miles on the treadmill), about 30 minutes of weights and 10 minutes of TM each time to warm up. Also stretching after for a few minutes. I got one more day in of 30 minutes run/walking. Four days of sweating. Not bad.
And I'm already feeling stronger.
I had one really great night of saying no to night eating, and I felt great the next morning. Next time I want a bowl of cereal at 11 pm, I'm going to remember that feeling. The rest of my nights were half ok and half horrible. I'm shooting for more good than bad nights next week.
Tomorrow we are going to dad's house to start packing his stuff. Not going to be fun, but it will be okay. It's already been 6 weeks since he died. Hard to believe it's gone by so fast.
Kids are great. Luke turned 5 last Saturday. He had a fun party. Sophie is doing so well in school. We keep the bad foods out of her body, she stays migraine free. It's amazing.
We are hosting Mark's family for turkey day, which will be work but fun. He's got a great family.
Next week, my goal is weights and cardio, 3 times each.
I don't know why I used "great" so much in this post. Tired and lazy tonight, I guess.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
One small change--a success. One big change--in the works.
I've been wanting to post for days, but of course there's been no time. I can't believe how packed my hours are, & how little I get to do for ME.
I'm sure I'm not the only one. Heh.
I made one change last week, as several of you suggested--baby steps. I had been in a horrible habit the last couple months of getting a Starbucks latte every morning on the way to work. This is a horrible habit because it's: (a) expensive, (b) exacerbates my bad habit of not eating breakfast at home, and (c) a lot of unnecessary calories. I get skim milk, but the pumpkin spice is not sugar free and a grande has over 200 calories.
My sister equated the cost of my almost-$5 a day latte habit with smoking a pack of cigarettes every day, which actually made me feel better about the cost. There are millions of people who don't think twice about spending $35 a week on cigarettes. Why should I feel guilty about spending that on my guilty pleasure?
But it was also just as addictive as cigarettes (almost anyway). I'd tried to stop myself going every day several times, but somehow my car just found its way in the drive-thru.
So last week, I decided I'd eat breakfast at home every morning, & I'd brew a second cup of coffee to take with me in the car to work (I have a one-cup at a time coffee maker, since I'm the only coffee drinker in my house--I LOVE my Keurig). And I did it. I had a latte on Friday, which is my plan now, to have one a week. And my breakfast has been a toasted English muffin, egg in the microwave, & a slice of cheese...tasty, quick & easy, with protein & enough fat to be very filling.
The habit is sticking so far.
My next baby-step item to tackle is a biggie--no night eating. I'm still plagued by that Pavlov's response of "it's late, I'm tired & feeling down, I'll eat a bowl of cereal and a few cookies." It's usually not a binge, but 500-600 calories at 11 pm every single night is going to add pounds to my body, and undo any good I've accomplished during the day.
I managed to drink hot tea last night while doing laundry & watching election returns with Mark. I still wasn't asleep at midnight, but I stayed in bed and gritted my teeth when the urge came. But, then at 2:30 am, when insomnia hit (which doesn't happen often, but it does happen occasionally), I hit the pantry. It was too late to take a xanax--even .25 mg puts me out for hours. So I filled up on sleep-inducing carbs.
I felt awful when I woke up this morning. That sand paper in the mouth, puffy fingers, achy belly yuckiness that always, always follows sleeping after eating. I don't know why this is such a hard habit to break.
But I KNOW it's breakable. Many of you have done it. I've done it before. It's going to take some time for it to stick (21 days minimum, right?), and some practice on using other things to substitute for food.
No exercise for over a week. I carried my gym bag in & out of the office last week three times, and not once had time to go running/walking. I brought it in yesterday--same deal. I'm hoping today will break that streak. The park where I usually run was calling my name as I drove by it this morning.
I am signing up today for the Indianapolis Mini Marathon next May. It's the 100 year anniversary of the 500 race, so it should be a cool year to run the Mini. It will be my 6th half marathon. Maybe my 7th, if I decide to also run Evansville's SIC half marathon in April. The only way I run consistently is to train for races. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Vickie, no Halloween party this year. Mark was out of town on business over Halloween. The kids missed him, but we went trick or treating with my sister & niece, so it was OK. I'm glad we didn't have to dress up. Halloween costumes for adults run really small. I'd never have fit into anything this year.
I'm sure I'm not the only one. Heh.
I made one change last week, as several of you suggested--baby steps. I had been in a horrible habit the last couple months of getting a Starbucks latte every morning on the way to work. This is a horrible habit because it's: (a) expensive, (b) exacerbates my bad habit of not eating breakfast at home, and (c) a lot of unnecessary calories. I get skim milk, but the pumpkin spice is not sugar free and a grande has over 200 calories.
My sister equated the cost of my almost-$5 a day latte habit with smoking a pack of cigarettes every day, which actually made me feel better about the cost. There are millions of people who don't think twice about spending $35 a week on cigarettes. Why should I feel guilty about spending that on my guilty pleasure?
But it was also just as addictive as cigarettes (almost anyway). I'd tried to stop myself going every day several times, but somehow my car just found its way in the drive-thru.
So last week, I decided I'd eat breakfast at home every morning, & I'd brew a second cup of coffee to take with me in the car to work (I have a one-cup at a time coffee maker, since I'm the only coffee drinker in my house--I LOVE my Keurig). And I did it. I had a latte on Friday, which is my plan now, to have one a week. And my breakfast has been a toasted English muffin, egg in the microwave, & a slice of cheese...tasty, quick & easy, with protein & enough fat to be very filling.
The habit is sticking so far.
My next baby-step item to tackle is a biggie--no night eating. I'm still plagued by that Pavlov's response of "it's late, I'm tired & feeling down, I'll eat a bowl of cereal and a few cookies." It's usually not a binge, but 500-600 calories at 11 pm every single night is going to add pounds to my body, and undo any good I've accomplished during the day.
I managed to drink hot tea last night while doing laundry & watching election returns with Mark. I still wasn't asleep at midnight, but I stayed in bed and gritted my teeth when the urge came. But, then at 2:30 am, when insomnia hit (which doesn't happen often, but it does happen occasionally), I hit the pantry. It was too late to take a xanax--even .25 mg puts me out for hours. So I filled up on sleep-inducing carbs.
I felt awful when I woke up this morning. That sand paper in the mouth, puffy fingers, achy belly yuckiness that always, always follows sleeping after eating. I don't know why this is such a hard habit to break.
But I KNOW it's breakable. Many of you have done it. I've done it before. It's going to take some time for it to stick (21 days minimum, right?), and some practice on using other things to substitute for food.
No exercise for over a week. I carried my gym bag in & out of the office last week three times, and not once had time to go running/walking. I brought it in yesterday--same deal. I'm hoping today will break that streak. The park where I usually run was calling my name as I drove by it this morning.
I am signing up today for the Indianapolis Mini Marathon next May. It's the 100 year anniversary of the 500 race, so it should be a cool year to run the Mini. It will be my 6th half marathon. Maybe my 7th, if I decide to also run Evansville's SIC half marathon in April. The only way I run consistently is to train for races. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Vickie, no Halloween party this year. Mark was out of town on business over Halloween. The kids missed him, but we went trick or treating with my sister & niece, so it was OK. I'm glad we didn't have to dress up. Halloween costumes for adults run really small. I'd never have fit into anything this year.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Remember who you are
In high school I attended a Senior honors banquet before graduation, and there was a speaker who gave one of the only memorable speeches I've heard at that sort of thing. What has stuck with me over 20 years is his main point--remember who you are. I can't remember all his examples, but I remember the sentiment.
Yesterday you all made me feel for the first time in a long time like I really could get back to my fit, thin self. All this year, I've been on this slippery slope that has seemed hopeless and endless. You've had front row seats for the train wreck that was my life at times. And yet you all see in me what I obviously haven't been able to see in myself.
The me I am meant to be. The me I worked hard to create. The me I can still be.
I just need to remember that me, and I know I can get her back.
Remember who you are.
In my dark times, I remember the me I don't want to be, the obese me I started to become after only two years of marriage and six months on prozac (which causes some people to gain weight unexplainedly, but my doctor didn't know that in 1997), and I feel the helplessness wash over me.
Those 13 years of obesity pull and tug and drag me down sometimes. Like at night, when I'm all alone in our kitchen/family room (this is the real reason for America's obesity epidemic....all our houses are now built with the kitchen and family rooms combined, so family time = food, and tv time = food, and conversation = food, and kitchen = family room). That's when the siren song of cookies and milk and cereal and ice cream and little powdered donuts (sarcasm font--they're for the kids, really they are--sarcasm font) call me to that wretched island of false comfort. The sirens always lead to despair, and a promise that "tomorrow I'll finally get on a plan and I won't eat like this anymore."
I need to remember the me who knows how to get fit & thin, and then remember to forget the me who was obese for 13 years.
I need to remember the me I can be. The me I want to be. And will yet become.
Remember who you are.
Yesterday you all made me feel for the first time in a long time like I really could get back to my fit, thin self. All this year, I've been on this slippery slope that has seemed hopeless and endless. You've had front row seats for the train wreck that was my life at times. And yet you all see in me what I obviously haven't been able to see in myself.
The me I am meant to be. The me I worked hard to create. The me I can still be.
I just need to remember that me, and I know I can get her back.
Remember who you are.
In my dark times, I remember the me I don't want to be, the obese me I started to become after only two years of marriage and six months on prozac (which causes some people to gain weight unexplainedly, but my doctor didn't know that in 1997), and I feel the helplessness wash over me.
Those 13 years of obesity pull and tug and drag me down sometimes. Like at night, when I'm all alone in our kitchen/family room (this is the real reason for America's obesity epidemic....all our houses are now built with the kitchen and family rooms combined, so family time = food, and tv time = food, and conversation = food, and kitchen = family room). That's when the siren song of cookies and milk and cereal and ice cream and little powdered donuts (sarcasm font--they're for the kids, really they are--sarcasm font) call me to that wretched island of false comfort. The sirens always lead to despair, and a promise that "tomorrow I'll finally get on a plan and I won't eat like this anymore."
I need to remember the me who knows how to get fit & thin, and then remember to forget the me who was obese for 13 years.
I need to remember the me I can be. The me I want to be. And will yet become.
Remember who you are.
Monday, October 25, 2010
2006 all over again
In lots of ways life is much, much easier now--the pain of watching Dad suffer is gone, my sister is back to work today and seems to be keeping it together, the drama is (mostly) gone, and the end of this year-long insanity is very near. We still have the usual estate stuff to do, but I am relatively certain that's going to go smoothly. As long as his wife (yes, he stayed married to her so she could have his VA benefits) stays five hours away & doesn't stir up trouble, we could have a fairly calm ending to 2010.
So why is my Fat Head in 2006 mode? Way back when this blog started, I was in that "I wanna lose weight but I can't make myself stick to a plan. I'm helpless around food. I'm out of control and can't stop myself."
I guess it's because when we're at our weakest points in life, we revert back to what we know. What I know is how to comfort myself with food. And I still need comforting.
But just like in 2006, I'm supremely unhappy with the results of my comforting efforts. My size 12s are tight. My bras are cutting off my circulation. My back fat rolls have returned. I can't wear my dress pumps because my feet have filled with fat just big enough that I get blisters on my heels.
I know what I need to do. And I've been here before. I want to get healthy & thin again. But I can't find the "want to enough" in me yet.
Maybe I'll try to make time to reread my own blog, instead of searching the web for "how to lose weight in your 40s" (which yields nothing helpful).
I have a pile of size 8 fall clothes on the floor of my den. It's killing me to have to pack them away & stuff them under my bed until "one day" I can wear them again.
I looked at one of my favorite Ann Taylor Loft dresses Saturday, and was shocked at how skinny it looked. When I wore that dress, I felt good about myself, but I never felt skinny. Obviously, 2 years and 20 gained-pounds later, I realize I was delusional. I looked great. Just because I wasn't a size 4 or size 6 doesn't mean I wasn't skinny. I was.
I hope I can find my way back into that dress again. Someday very soon.
So why is my Fat Head in 2006 mode? Way back when this blog started, I was in that "I wanna lose weight but I can't make myself stick to a plan. I'm helpless around food. I'm out of control and can't stop myself."
I guess it's because when we're at our weakest points in life, we revert back to what we know. What I know is how to comfort myself with food. And I still need comforting.
But just like in 2006, I'm supremely unhappy with the results of my comforting efforts. My size 12s are tight. My bras are cutting off my circulation. My back fat rolls have returned. I can't wear my dress pumps because my feet have filled with fat just big enough that I get blisters on my heels.
I know what I need to do. And I've been here before. I want to get healthy & thin again. But I can't find the "want to enough" in me yet.
Maybe I'll try to make time to reread my own blog, instead of searching the web for "how to lose weight in your 40s" (which yields nothing helpful).
I have a pile of size 8 fall clothes on the floor of my den. It's killing me to have to pack them away & stuff them under my bed until "one day" I can wear them again.
I looked at one of my favorite Ann Taylor Loft dresses Saturday, and was shocked at how skinny it looked. When I wore that dress, I felt good about myself, but I never felt skinny. Obviously, 2 years and 20 gained-pounds later, I realize I was delusional. I looked great. Just because I wasn't a size 4 or size 6 doesn't mean I wasn't skinny. I was.
I hope I can find my way back into that dress again. Someday very soon.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
What's next
The funeral went well. No drama from dad's wife, which was a big relief.
I pretty much feel numb. It's really bizarre. We've been through so much the past year.
I ran the half Sunday and it was wonderful. Kate helped me so much. I'd have walk the last 7 miles without her. As it was, we ran until 10.5ish miles, walked 2.5, then ran the last stretch to the finish. We finished in just under 3 hours. I didn't injure anything and I felt ok the days after.
I'm still amazed by my body, that it can do what I do with it even without proper training. Kate and I were joking about how in 10 years we're gonna look back at these "glory days of our 40s" and long for them.
So we've a ton of stuff to do for dad's estate. That's my area, so it will keep me busy. But that's ok. I'm just praying we don't have anymore drama.
My food was not so great the past week, but I didn't gain much. It's time, though, for me to get back to a plan and start working toward taking care of myself the way I deserve. Again.
Thank you all for your condolences and kind thoughts.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
I pretty much feel numb. It's really bizarre. We've been through so much the past year.
I ran the half Sunday and it was wonderful. Kate helped me so much. I'd have walk the last 7 miles without her. As it was, we ran until 10.5ish miles, walked 2.5, then ran the last stretch to the finish. We finished in just under 3 hours. I didn't injure anything and I felt ok the days after.
I'm still amazed by my body, that it can do what I do with it even without proper training. Kate and I were joking about how in 10 years we're gonna look back at these "glory days of our 40s" and long for them.
So we've a ton of stuff to do for dad's estate. That's my area, so it will keep me busy. But that's ok. I'm just praying we don't have anymore drama.
My food was not so great the past week, but I didn't gain much. It's time, though, for me to get back to a plan and start working toward taking care of myself the way I deserve. Again.
Thank you all for your condolences and kind thoughts.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Saturday, October 09, 2010
It's on
I'm running tomorrow. My dear niece in law and friend Kate drove down from Indy for the funeral visitation, and to run the race with me. So I have an accountability partner and I'm not going to bail. It's a good thing.
My running clothes and gear are laid out and ready. Just gotta sleep well and get up on time, and pray nothing falls apart on my body on those 13.1 miles.
Then the hard stuff starts. But at least I'll be able to tell myself I did it, because I can.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
My running clothes and gear are laid out and ready. Just gotta sleep well and get up on time, and pray nothing falls apart on my body on those 13.1 miles.
Then the hard stuff starts. But at least I'll be able to tell myself I did it, because I can.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Thursday, October 07, 2010
RIP Daddy
My dad passed away this morning, at 6:50 am, the exact same time the sun was rising.
I'd like to think there's some God Poetry in that.
He was really non responsive yesterday, my sister told me last night. I almost went to see him around 11 pm last night, but it had been such a long day & I was just beat so I didn't.
Turns out, that was okay. My uncle Phil went to stay with Dad last night (& the night before). He didn't have to be there--he felt that Dad was very near the end and he wanted to be there. This is the uncle who spent Monday through Friday, every single night, with my Dad for nine straight months. Most nights my Dad wouldn't sleep, & my uncle often only got 2 or 3 hours of sleep before he had to leave for work at 5 a.m. And he wanted to be with my Dad the past two nights, even though he didn't have to be there. My uncle is an amazing man, & a true believer in Christ's sacrificing love poured out for others.
Uncle Phil called me at 5:30 this morning, telling me the nurse said to call the family in because Dad's vitals had gone down dramatically. I got there by 6. He was peaceful, sleeping, non responsive. They say he could hear us. I hope so. Nothing but love surrounded him for those last hours of his life.
My mom (who's been divorced from him for almost 12 years) got to the hospice center just before he passed. Mom told him she was there, that it was okay, to run to the angels. My sister took the oxygen tube from under Dad's nose then (the nurse had asked her to), and my dad took his last breath. I think he may have been waiting for Mom. I don't know for sure, but regardless, he finally let completely go after she spoke to him.
I can't express how hard this is. Wanting his pain to end for so long, so that our pain could end too. Now, he's no longer in pain and has a new body and is completely healed, body & soul. His pain has ended, and ours will too, eventually.
But right now it's crushing me.
Like it's supposed to.
He was a pain in the ass. But he was still my Dad.
The funeral stuff is Sunday & Monday. Lots to do before then. I don't know yet if I'm going to still do the half Sunday or not. It starts at 7; I'll be home by 10:30 at the latest. Have to be at the funeral home at noon. It's gonna be a push if I do the race.
But a huge part of me wants to run the thing, BECAUSE I FREAKING CAN. My body works. It's a gift. I should darn well use it.
I hope I make the right choice Sunday morning.
Thanks to you all for your love & support this past year. It has meant a lot, knowing you are virtually supporting me.
xoxox
L
I'd like to think there's some God Poetry in that.
He was really non responsive yesterday, my sister told me last night. I almost went to see him around 11 pm last night, but it had been such a long day & I was just beat so I didn't.
Turns out, that was okay. My uncle Phil went to stay with Dad last night (& the night before). He didn't have to be there--he felt that Dad was very near the end and he wanted to be there. This is the uncle who spent Monday through Friday, every single night, with my Dad for nine straight months. Most nights my Dad wouldn't sleep, & my uncle often only got 2 or 3 hours of sleep before he had to leave for work at 5 a.m. And he wanted to be with my Dad the past two nights, even though he didn't have to be there. My uncle is an amazing man, & a true believer in Christ's sacrificing love poured out for others.
Uncle Phil called me at 5:30 this morning, telling me the nurse said to call the family in because Dad's vitals had gone down dramatically. I got there by 6. He was peaceful, sleeping, non responsive. They say he could hear us. I hope so. Nothing but love surrounded him for those last hours of his life.
My mom (who's been divorced from him for almost 12 years) got to the hospice center just before he passed. Mom told him she was there, that it was okay, to run to the angels. My sister took the oxygen tube from under Dad's nose then (the nurse had asked her to), and my dad took his last breath. I think he may have been waiting for Mom. I don't know for sure, but regardless, he finally let completely go after she spoke to him.
I can't express how hard this is. Wanting his pain to end for so long, so that our pain could end too. Now, he's no longer in pain and has a new body and is completely healed, body & soul. His pain has ended, and ours will too, eventually.
But right now it's crushing me.
Like it's supposed to.
He was a pain in the ass. But he was still my Dad.
The funeral stuff is Sunday & Monday. Lots to do before then. I don't know yet if I'm going to still do the half Sunday or not. It starts at 7; I'll be home by 10:30 at the latest. Have to be at the funeral home at noon. It's gonna be a push if I do the race.
But a huge part of me wants to run the thing, BECAUSE I FREAKING CAN. My body works. It's a gift. I should darn well use it.
I hope I make the right choice Sunday morning.
Thanks to you all for your love & support this past year. It has meant a lot, knowing you are virtually supporting me.
xoxox
L
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Hospice and Half Marathon
I've been meaning to blog for a week. Sorry it has been so long.
We moved Dad to a hospice center on Monday. It's a 7 bed facility that's more like a 5 star hotel than anything else. The nurses are the best at helping people in the last weeks of their lives, with pain management and rest.
It wasn't easy but it went ok. He has been in his wheelchair 24/7 for the past year. Yesterday they moved him in a gurney on an ambulance and put him in a big comfy hospital air bed at the center. No option of his wheelchair anymore. The nurses are managing his meds, and he's sleeping finally. Dad has not slept a real nights sleep in 2 plus months. The fear of not waking up kept him awake and kept him from resting fully. But even he can't resist the medication from the hospice nurses.
Hopefully his peace will be our peace. I already feel a big relief, knowing his needs are being taken care of without us needing to be there. He isn't eating any more, since this weekend. He will probably sleep more than anything now. Since he can't use his computer anymore, that's what he needs to do anyway.
It's only been 2 days, not even 2 full days, so we'll see how it goes. But there's no doubt we are near the end. He still has a lot of body mass and his vitals are good, even though he's down to 1/3 of one lung functioning, so he will be with us a while longer, they think.
The half marathon is Sunday. I've not trained properly but I have increased my miles the past few weeks. And with cooler temps it's much easier to run longer distances. I don't plan to finish faster than 2:45, maybe 3 hours. It's going to be a gorgeous day Sunday, so I'm just planning to enjoy the journey of 13.1 miles.
We're all healthy, so that's helpful.
The year is flying to a close, isn't it? Luke will be 5 in a month. It's hard to believe.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
We moved Dad to a hospice center on Monday. It's a 7 bed facility that's more like a 5 star hotel than anything else. The nurses are the best at helping people in the last weeks of their lives, with pain management and rest.
It wasn't easy but it went ok. He has been in his wheelchair 24/7 for the past year. Yesterday they moved him in a gurney on an ambulance and put him in a big comfy hospital air bed at the center. No option of his wheelchair anymore. The nurses are managing his meds, and he's sleeping finally. Dad has not slept a real nights sleep in 2 plus months. The fear of not waking up kept him awake and kept him from resting fully. But even he can't resist the medication from the hospice nurses.
Hopefully his peace will be our peace. I already feel a big relief, knowing his needs are being taken care of without us needing to be there. He isn't eating any more, since this weekend. He will probably sleep more than anything now. Since he can't use his computer anymore, that's what he needs to do anyway.
It's only been 2 days, not even 2 full days, so we'll see how it goes. But there's no doubt we are near the end. He still has a lot of body mass and his vitals are good, even though he's down to 1/3 of one lung functioning, so he will be with us a while longer, they think.
The half marathon is Sunday. I've not trained properly but I have increased my miles the past few weeks. And with cooler temps it's much easier to run longer distances. I don't plan to finish faster than 2:45, maybe 3 hours. It's going to be a gorgeous day Sunday, so I'm just planning to enjoy the journey of 13.1 miles.
We're all healthy, so that's helpful.
The year is flying to a close, isn't it? Luke will be 5 in a month. It's hard to believe.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Friday, September 17, 2010
Cooking, eating, running
I know this isn't a big deal for a lot of you. But it is for this overwhelmed working mom.
I didn't eat restaurant food once this week. I did rely on several frozen meals and frozen veggies, but anything is better than drive-thru. No fast food for me!!
I have been cooking, too. I rediscovered Roni's food blog greenlitebites.com, and I am in love. I have made a lot of her recipes the past few weeks, and not one has been a dud. The raspberry stuffed peaches are divine. I just had the chick pea/cilantro/feta salad, and it was fabulous.
There are so many great things about her recipes. Not too many ingredients. Serving size for 4 or less (I don't need a lot of leftovers). Quick and easy to prepare. Nutritional data included. Comments from readers with their tips and tricks. And they are yummy and healthy.
I don't know why she doesn't have a cookbook yet. I just hope she never stops writing new recipes.
I've run 3 times this week-- yay! Long run of 7 miles planned for tomorrow. Hopefully I can do it.
It's been a good week.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
I didn't eat restaurant food once this week. I did rely on several frozen meals and frozen veggies, but anything is better than drive-thru. No fast food for me!!
I have been cooking, too. I rediscovered Roni's food blog greenlitebites.com, and I am in love. I have made a lot of her recipes the past few weeks, and not one has been a dud. The raspberry stuffed peaches are divine. I just had the chick pea/cilantro/feta salad, and it was fabulous.
There are so many great things about her recipes. Not too many ingredients. Serving size for 4 or less (I don't need a lot of leftovers). Quick and easy to prepare. Nutritional data included. Comments from readers with their tips and tricks. And they are yummy and healthy.
I don't know why she doesn't have a cookbook yet. I just hope she never stops writing new recipes.
I've run 3 times this week-- yay! Long run of 7 miles planned for tomorrow. Hopefully I can do it.
It's been a good week.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Jinx....not
I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm doing OK on the food front. I wasn't, and I'd gained some more, but I've been doing better and I feel better. The pounds are creeping down. I don't feel food crazy.
But I hate to even whisper about doing well, because of the jinx factor. It's been inevitable lately...I blog about how well things are going, and the next day I fall apart.
I just want to be consistent. Consistency was key in 2007 and 2008. That's what I need to find again.
I haven't been running according to my plan for the 10/10/10 half marathon. It's so frustrating. I have a treadmill so there's no excuse other than at the end of the day after I get home with the kids, I'm spent and have no energy to even put my running shoes on (by far the hardest part of working out is just getting dressed for it). I did 4.25 miles on Saturday morning, but that was it last week. So far this week I've done 0 miles.
Mark left for Philadelphia for work last Friday. He gets home late tonight. Sophie had a dizzy spell and a stomach virus (vomiting for 12 hours, poor kid) on Saturday, and the dizzy hasn't left yet. She missed school yesterday and today. It's her first spell since April, and it's not horrible. She can walk and do things, she just can't move quickly or bend down, and school is too much of a challenge for her. She can't think if her head is spinning inside. I think orange juice may have helped set this one off; it's the only migraine trigger she had more of in the days prior to the migraine. She's not had problems with it before, but she's not a big OJ drinker. That plus a virus plus a weather change on Saturday & Sunday must have been enough. I just don't know why it takes so long for them to go away, even with migraine abortive meds.
Dad is slowly declining. He's having more trouble breathing, is having more pain, is having more trouble moving his fingers to use his joystick mouse to communicate. We are hoping the hospice nurse allows him to go to the hospice center soon. I'm praying every day his suffering, and ours, ends sooner than later.
All in all, I'm doing OK. I just hope the universe doesn't hunt me down & put a pox on me for uttering that out loud.
But I hate to even whisper about doing well, because of the jinx factor. It's been inevitable lately...I blog about how well things are going, and the next day I fall apart.
I just want to be consistent. Consistency was key in 2007 and 2008. That's what I need to find again.
I haven't been running according to my plan for the 10/10/10 half marathon. It's so frustrating. I have a treadmill so there's no excuse other than at the end of the day after I get home with the kids, I'm spent and have no energy to even put my running shoes on (by far the hardest part of working out is just getting dressed for it). I did 4.25 miles on Saturday morning, but that was it last week. So far this week I've done 0 miles.
Mark left for Philadelphia for work last Friday. He gets home late tonight. Sophie had a dizzy spell and a stomach virus (vomiting for 12 hours, poor kid) on Saturday, and the dizzy hasn't left yet. She missed school yesterday and today. It's her first spell since April, and it's not horrible. She can walk and do things, she just can't move quickly or bend down, and school is too much of a challenge for her. She can't think if her head is spinning inside. I think orange juice may have helped set this one off; it's the only migraine trigger she had more of in the days prior to the migraine. She's not had problems with it before, but she's not a big OJ drinker. That plus a virus plus a weather change on Saturday & Sunday must have been enough. I just don't know why it takes so long for them to go away, even with migraine abortive meds.
Dad is slowly declining. He's having more trouble breathing, is having more pain, is having more trouble moving his fingers to use his joystick mouse to communicate. We are hoping the hospice nurse allows him to go to the hospice center soon. I'm praying every day his suffering, and ours, ends sooner than later.
All in all, I'm doing OK. I just hope the universe doesn't hunt me down & put a pox on me for uttering that out loud.
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
I'm here
So sorry. It's been very busy with work, kids, dad drama, funerals (two in 4 days for men from church), and trying to just keep it together.
No slowing down over the next week or so, so no real update for a while.
But I'm here. Same stuff, endless days of it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
No slowing down over the next week or so, so no real update for a while.
But I'm here. Same stuff, endless days of it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Run Laura Run
Do you all know that movie, "Run Lola Run"? It's a foreign movie that stars the girl who plays Jason Bourne's girlfriend. It's been ages since I've seen it, and I couldn't tell you the plot, but I do remember it was super cool.
Well, if my life were a movie this week, I'd call it Run Laura Run.
After my meltdown post last week, I went through another "I can't take it anymore" dealies. Instead of printing a new diet plan, I signed up for a couple of races. I'd been planning on running a half in October but hadn't made it official (read: paid money) yet. And I really like Race for the Cure 5k's (and t-shirts) so I signed up for that one too.
I've run 3 times since Monday. I use the term run with qualifiers--walk a few minutes, run a few minutes, repeat.
But! Tonight I actually Ran, for really reals. It was cooler than any weather I've run in since January. There was no sun, since it was almost 8. And I guess the couple times a week I have been running/walking is starting to make a difference.
So I headed out and ran 12 minute miles, only walking to cross traffic and a small break at mile two. I did 30 minutes, 2.5 miles, because that's all I had time for. But it was the best 2.5 miles I've had in months.
I realized the other day that any time I post that I can't take it and I'm starting a new plan, I've screwed it up a few days later. Conversely, I post that my life is shit, and I get my shit together. What the heck is that about? Guess I better end this with "blah blah I can't take this anymore blah."
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Well, if my life were a movie this week, I'd call it Run Laura Run.
After my meltdown post last week, I went through another "I can't take it anymore" dealies. Instead of printing a new diet plan, I signed up for a couple of races. I'd been planning on running a half in October but hadn't made it official (read: paid money) yet. And I really like Race for the Cure 5k's (and t-shirts) so I signed up for that one too.
I've run 3 times since Monday. I use the term run with qualifiers--walk a few minutes, run a few minutes, repeat.
But! Tonight I actually Ran, for really reals. It was cooler than any weather I've run in since January. There was no sun, since it was almost 8. And I guess the couple times a week I have been running/walking is starting to make a difference.
So I headed out and ran 12 minute miles, only walking to cross traffic and a small break at mile two. I did 30 minutes, 2.5 miles, because that's all I had time for. But it was the best 2.5 miles I've had in months.
I realized the other day that any time I post that I can't take it and I'm starting a new plan, I've screwed it up a few days later. Conversely, I post that my life is shit, and I get my shit together. What the heck is that about? Guess I better end this with "blah blah I can't take this anymore blah."
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Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Not great. Same old story!
I feel like a broken record lately, singing the same tired refrain. I'm not happy with the way things are, I try to change, I fail, I try again, I fail, I try again, blah blah blah.
So the latest attempt lasted all of three days. I'm back in the "life's not changing any time soon, so learn to live with who you are now and change later." Honestly, is being a size 12 the end of the world?
No. But when you were almost a 6 two years ago, it sucks.
More than once the thought has crossed my mind that getting to a toned and fit 146 in the summer of 2008 was a horrible thing. I was in the neighborhood of that weight for a few months, and they were glorious. I loved my body, as much as I could love a still imperfect body, and I felt confident and kick ass. I had great clothes. I looked fabulous in pictures and my hairstylist's mirror.
But I remember the summer of 2007 when I went from a 14 to a 12, and wore a belt for the first time in years and bought a bathing suit. And felt great about how I was shaping up. I was more toned then, but if I still had the clothes from 2007 (I gave them away in 2008--dumb move) I know they'd fit.
Now, I have the old mind set of The Me from our original Amazon blog days in 2006. I just can't get it together, can't string enough days together to get some momentum. When I think I can finally do it, life comes up and bitch slaps me back down.
It's really quite annoying.
But. Life moves on. I bought size 12s. I can pass for "average" still. Not obese, "just" overweight. I can still run (and did, yesterday, 3 miles in 40 minutes), albeit only a few minutes at a time. I'm not buying boxes of powdered donuts and eating them all in one night. It could be worse.
I fully expect that, eventually, I WILL conquer this weight battle again. Some days are better than others. The weather changing for the cooler will make a big difference in my ability and desire to run/walk. When my dad passes away and I've gone through the proper therapy, I will have space in my head to think about myself again.
For now, things are too messy. Joy is fleeting. My dad's the one with ALS, but the rest of us live with a cancer of pain and guilt and sorrow and fear that's taken deep roots over the past year. And it's not taking our lives, but it's draining the life out of us nonetheless.
Dad's 3rd week in the nursing home is not going well. The first 2 weeks he had lots of family all the time, except at night. My sister's trying to pull away a bit, spending fewer hours and letting the staff take care of more of his needs. Well, dad doesn't like it--who would?--and he's making things more difficult for everyone.
I had a big project for church last week and didn't have time to see him for the whole week. I finally made it last night and he was horrible to me. As in, I left the nursing home sobbing. I called my sister and she's a great help because she understands him better than I do. He's angry and hates the place. He needs someone to blame for being there, and I expected it to be me. I just didn't know what form the blame would come in or when. I wasn't prepared. If it weren't for my faith in God I don't know if I'd go back to see him. I need heaven's power of forgiveness.
I told him I had to leave (it was 7:45 pm, I'd been there almost 90 minutes), hugged his shoulders goodbye, said I love you--and he shook his head no. As in, no you don't love me. I questioned him several times and it's what he meant. My uncle was there too, so he witnessed it. It was devastating. I didn't know how to respond. You can't have a conversation with him. It takes 30 minutes for him to type one short sentence. I told him he really didn't want to go there, what if he died and that's the last thing he says to me. I said it's not my fault you're here. He'd already typed "I hate this place" so I knew where his mind was. I said to type whatever his grievance was with me, and Crystal could read it to me the next day. I said more, but that's the gist. I left at 8 pm and cried my eyes out all the way home.
My sister said he does whatever he has to to make people stay with him. He sure did it the hard way with me. My sister and two uncles laid into him. He texted me an apology. I'll go see him in a few days. Who knows what awaits next time.
There's so much more to all this but you've gotten enough for one post. You're all so great to stick with me. It seems like it's never gonna end. But it has to eventually, right? This is only temporary. I keep telling myself that. But lately I'm having a hard time believing it.
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So the latest attempt lasted all of three days. I'm back in the "life's not changing any time soon, so learn to live with who you are now and change later." Honestly, is being a size 12 the end of the world?
No. But when you were almost a 6 two years ago, it sucks.
More than once the thought has crossed my mind that getting to a toned and fit 146 in the summer of 2008 was a horrible thing. I was in the neighborhood of that weight for a few months, and they were glorious. I loved my body, as much as I could love a still imperfect body, and I felt confident and kick ass. I had great clothes. I looked fabulous in pictures and my hairstylist's mirror.
But I remember the summer of 2007 when I went from a 14 to a 12, and wore a belt for the first time in years and bought a bathing suit. And felt great about how I was shaping up. I was more toned then, but if I still had the clothes from 2007 (I gave them away in 2008--dumb move) I know they'd fit.
Now, I have the old mind set of The Me from our original Amazon blog days in 2006. I just can't get it together, can't string enough days together to get some momentum. When I think I can finally do it, life comes up and bitch slaps me back down.
It's really quite annoying.
But. Life moves on. I bought size 12s. I can pass for "average" still. Not obese, "just" overweight. I can still run (and did, yesterday, 3 miles in 40 minutes), albeit only a few minutes at a time. I'm not buying boxes of powdered donuts and eating them all in one night. It could be worse.
I fully expect that, eventually, I WILL conquer this weight battle again. Some days are better than others. The weather changing for the cooler will make a big difference in my ability and desire to run/walk. When my dad passes away and I've gone through the proper therapy, I will have space in my head to think about myself again.
For now, things are too messy. Joy is fleeting. My dad's the one with ALS, but the rest of us live with a cancer of pain and guilt and sorrow and fear that's taken deep roots over the past year. And it's not taking our lives, but it's draining the life out of us nonetheless.
Dad's 3rd week in the nursing home is not going well. The first 2 weeks he had lots of family all the time, except at night. My sister's trying to pull away a bit, spending fewer hours and letting the staff take care of more of his needs. Well, dad doesn't like it--who would?--and he's making things more difficult for everyone.
I had a big project for church last week and didn't have time to see him for the whole week. I finally made it last night and he was horrible to me. As in, I left the nursing home sobbing. I called my sister and she's a great help because she understands him better than I do. He's angry and hates the place. He needs someone to blame for being there, and I expected it to be me. I just didn't know what form the blame would come in or when. I wasn't prepared. If it weren't for my faith in God I don't know if I'd go back to see him. I need heaven's power of forgiveness.
I told him I had to leave (it was 7:45 pm, I'd been there almost 90 minutes), hugged his shoulders goodbye, said I love you--and he shook his head no. As in, no you don't love me. I questioned him several times and it's what he meant. My uncle was there too, so he witnessed it. It was devastating. I didn't know how to respond. You can't have a conversation with him. It takes 30 minutes for him to type one short sentence. I told him he really didn't want to go there, what if he died and that's the last thing he says to me. I said it's not my fault you're here. He'd already typed "I hate this place" so I knew where his mind was. I said to type whatever his grievance was with me, and Crystal could read it to me the next day. I said more, but that's the gist. I left at 8 pm and cried my eyes out all the way home.
My sister said he does whatever he has to to make people stay with him. He sure did it the hard way with me. My sister and two uncles laid into him. He texted me an apology. I'll go see him in a few days. Who knows what awaits next time.
There's so much more to all this but you've gotten enough for one post. You're all so great to stick with me. It seems like it's never gonna end. But it has to eventually, right? This is only temporary. I keep telling myself that. But lately I'm having a hard time believing it.
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Friday, August 06, 2010
Day 1. Again.
Thank you all so much for your supportive & kind words. You gave me exactly what I needed. What awesome, amazing friends you all are.
The rest of this week has continued to go well for Dad, and for my sister. We have a new hospice nurse (because we moved from one county to another, and the nurses don't cross counties because of the miles involved) and this nurse (who is a man) has experience with ALS patients. He's really been a God send, because he knows more about what will make Dad comfortable and what can help deal with his body's changing needs. The nurse told my sister yesterday that the bottom half of Dad's lungs are no longer working, and he'll be surprised if Dad makes it another 3 months.
The nursing director at the nursing home said they've had ALS patients before, but they never get to this advanced stage--they die before they get this bad. But, I think because Dad has lived in his wheelchair for the past 10 months--always in a semi-vertical position--he's been able to continue breathing because there hasn't been pressure on his lungs. ALS patients usually die because of respiratory failure; when Dad is reclined in his wheelchair all the way back, he can't breathe. His lungs will fail completely, eventually, regardless of whether he's horizontal or vertical. It sounds like such an awful way to die. Knowing Dad, he's going to make it as difficult as possible for himself & for us.
But. Things are letting up a bit with him, I guess. At least for now.
Yesterday I declared I'VE HAD IT, once again. I made up my mind, again, to get back on a plan, again. So I went grocery shopping last night and bought the foods I need to do the Wendy Chant plan, only I'm going to try her new one "Conquer the Fat Loss Code." It doesn't have that awful carb deplete week. The last 3 weeks are tougher than the first 5 weeks. This first week has enough carbs that it doesn't make you want to collapse from carb fatigue (if you know her plan.....the first 2 weeks are -- 2 carb downs, 1 carb up, 2 carb downs, 1 carb up, & 1 baseline). I'm sure I won't drop 5 pounds in one week like I would on the "Crack the Fat Loss Code" plan, but that's OK. I have more than 5 pounds to lose anyway. I weighed a mushy 165.4 this morning.
Day 1 is today--yes, a Friday, which is bizarre, but I am done with the "I'll start tomorrow" BS. I just can't take it anymore.
I hope I remember that feeling tonight at 10 pm when the munchies kick in.
If I can be consistent, start running and doing some weights work, by the time the weather cools off around here I could be back in my size 10s & 8s. That would be a lovely, awesome, fabulous place to be.
The rest of this week has continued to go well for Dad, and for my sister. We have a new hospice nurse (because we moved from one county to another, and the nurses don't cross counties because of the miles involved) and this nurse (who is a man) has experience with ALS patients. He's really been a God send, because he knows more about what will make Dad comfortable and what can help deal with his body's changing needs. The nurse told my sister yesterday that the bottom half of Dad's lungs are no longer working, and he'll be surprised if Dad makes it another 3 months.
The nursing director at the nursing home said they've had ALS patients before, but they never get to this advanced stage--they die before they get this bad. But, I think because Dad has lived in his wheelchair for the past 10 months--always in a semi-vertical position--he's been able to continue breathing because there hasn't been pressure on his lungs. ALS patients usually die because of respiratory failure; when Dad is reclined in his wheelchair all the way back, he can't breathe. His lungs will fail completely, eventually, regardless of whether he's horizontal or vertical. It sounds like such an awful way to die. Knowing Dad, he's going to make it as difficult as possible for himself & for us.
But. Things are letting up a bit with him, I guess. At least for now.
Yesterday I declared I'VE HAD IT, once again. I made up my mind, again, to get back on a plan, again. So I went grocery shopping last night and bought the foods I need to do the Wendy Chant plan, only I'm going to try her new one "Conquer the Fat Loss Code." It doesn't have that awful carb deplete week. The last 3 weeks are tougher than the first 5 weeks. This first week has enough carbs that it doesn't make you want to collapse from carb fatigue (if you know her plan.....the first 2 weeks are -- 2 carb downs, 1 carb up, 2 carb downs, 1 carb up, & 1 baseline). I'm sure I won't drop 5 pounds in one week like I would on the "Crack the Fat Loss Code" plan, but that's OK. I have more than 5 pounds to lose anyway. I weighed a mushy 165.4 this morning.
Day 1 is today--yes, a Friday, which is bizarre, but I am done with the "I'll start tomorrow" BS. I just can't take it anymore.
I hope I remember that feeling tonight at 10 pm when the munchies kick in.
If I can be consistent, start running and doing some weights work, by the time the weather cools off around here I could be back in my size 10s & 8s. That would be a lovely, awesome, fabulous place to be.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Dad's ok. Me? Not so great
So Monday went better than any of us could have dreamed. Dad is adjusting just fine to the nursing home. So far anyway. He's eating more than ever--every meal they've served so far. He's still had family with him all day - it's only day 2 - but no one at night. And my sister doesn't have the stress of running his household and doing everything, and I think that's helping everyone.
I was there yesterday and today until 8 pm. Monday I got there at 2, when he arrived in the wheel chair van the VA sent to pick him up. Today I set up his Internet with a Verizon hotspot wireless thingy. I was there 3 hours tonight. Not planing on visiting tomorrow because Sophie has voice lessons, and I need a night off.
Today I was in a terrible depression. I can't explain it really. I'm glad dad is doing well and not shutting down. But I'm afraid he could live like this for many months or even years. I don't know if I can handle that. It's still so hard to deal with it all.
And I'm angry with him. He's seen what his care needs have done to my sister and uncle. Yet he let them feel guilty and grovel over the nursing home. He was supposed to have 6-12 months. This is month 11 and I see no end in sight. I know he can't control when he dies but I feel like there was an expectation that's now blown out of the water, and he has fought to stay alive, preferring a paralyzed existance to heaven.
Which is a big issue for him, I think. He says he believes, but I think he has just enough faith to slide under the pearly gates. Of course, lots of people are afraid of dying. I don't blame him for that.
I blame him for putting himself first before everyone else for the past year. Like his illness has given him carte blanch to treat so many people like crap, and take advatage, and not give in return.
I feel horribly guilty about felling and thinking all of this.
The past 10 months I've not made myself a prioprity. At all. And now I'm in tight size 12s and dropping to the floor in front of my closet this morning, in tears because I'm terrified I'm going to be the girl who lost a bunch of weight and 3 years later is Fat Again.
I just can't go there. I can't.
I talked with Mark about it today. He said he'd support my time to exercise. He understands and thinks I'm being too hard on myself (I am). But I'm still afraid of the speed train to obesity that I'm on.
It's only been 2 days and my involvement with dad hasn't decreased yet. It will though, hopefully. The emotonal issues that are a big part of my eating problems aren't going anywhere. How am I going to fix myself this time? I don't know yet. I just don't know.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
I was there yesterday and today until 8 pm. Monday I got there at 2, when he arrived in the wheel chair van the VA sent to pick him up. Today I set up his Internet with a Verizon hotspot wireless thingy. I was there 3 hours tonight. Not planing on visiting tomorrow because Sophie has voice lessons, and I need a night off.
Today I was in a terrible depression. I can't explain it really. I'm glad dad is doing well and not shutting down. But I'm afraid he could live like this for many months or even years. I don't know if I can handle that. It's still so hard to deal with it all.
And I'm angry with him. He's seen what his care needs have done to my sister and uncle. Yet he let them feel guilty and grovel over the nursing home. He was supposed to have 6-12 months. This is month 11 and I see no end in sight. I know he can't control when he dies but I feel like there was an expectation that's now blown out of the water, and he has fought to stay alive, preferring a paralyzed existance to heaven.
Which is a big issue for him, I think. He says he believes, but I think he has just enough faith to slide under the pearly gates. Of course, lots of people are afraid of dying. I don't blame him for that.
I blame him for putting himself first before everyone else for the past year. Like his illness has given him carte blanch to treat so many people like crap, and take advatage, and not give in return.
I feel horribly guilty about felling and thinking all of this.
The past 10 months I've not made myself a prioprity. At all. And now I'm in tight size 12s and dropping to the floor in front of my closet this morning, in tears because I'm terrified I'm going to be the girl who lost a bunch of weight and 3 years later is Fat Again.
I just can't go there. I can't.
I talked with Mark about it today. He said he'd support my time to exercise. He understands and thinks I'm being too hard on myself (I am). But I'm still afraid of the speed train to obesity that I'm on.
It's only been 2 days and my involvement with dad hasn't decreased yet. It will though, hopefully. The emotonal issues that are a big part of my eating problems aren't going anywhere. How am I going to fix myself this time? I don't know yet. I just don't know.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Friday, July 30, 2010
Tough times ahead
My dad is going to the nursing home on Monday, August 2nd. The hospice chaplain and other family members thought we should tell him as early as possible. I thought we should tell him the day of or the day before at the earliest. But that isn't what they wanted, so we told him last Saturday. At least I got rid of the crushing guilt I had been carrying around, not being able to tell my sister when it was going to happen.
It's going to be a rough week ahead.
It's going to be a rough week ahead.
Monday, July 19, 2010
"Runnin' Down a Dream"
I ran 3 times last week, just like my half marathon plan told me to.
Tuesday, 3 miles, 40:56
Thursday, 3 miles, 40:30
Sunday, 3 miles, 36:45
I shaved over a minute per mile off my pace. And it was hot & humid Sunday afternoon, and my asthma is still acting up after I run a mile in this heat. (I only use an albuterol inhaler. I need to go back to my doctor & get something more.)
By the time the cooler weather gets here, I'm sure to be back to my normal running self, in the 11 min/mile range.
The title today is brought to you by Tom Petty. I can run to the beat of that song for a short bit, & it puts me at a 9ish min/mile pace, which is super fast for me and I can't hold it long. But yesterday I let myself run to pace with the song, twice, for as long as I could, and it helped get my time to 12:15 min. miles.
I think getting 3 runs under my belt (even though I use the word "run" loosely here.... the first two runs were walking with some running thrown in) is a big mental hurdle for me. I actually packed my gym bag this morning with plans to leave work at 4 & run 3 miles, even though it's not on my training schedule. Like Forrest Gump, I just wanna run.
Even though the feel-like temperature is 100 degrees. Ick.
When I saw people running this morning on the way to work, I didn't have to envy them. Because I am one of them again. Finally.
Tuesday, 3 miles, 40:56
Thursday, 3 miles, 40:30
Sunday, 3 miles, 36:45
I shaved over a minute per mile off my pace. And it was hot & humid Sunday afternoon, and my asthma is still acting up after I run a mile in this heat. (I only use an albuterol inhaler. I need to go back to my doctor & get something more.)
By the time the cooler weather gets here, I'm sure to be back to my normal running self, in the 11 min/mile range.
The title today is brought to you by Tom Petty. I can run to the beat of that song for a short bit, & it puts me at a 9ish min/mile pace, which is super fast for me and I can't hold it long. But yesterday I let myself run to pace with the song, twice, for as long as I could, and it helped get my time to 12:15 min. miles.
I think getting 3 runs under my belt (even though I use the word "run" loosely here.... the first two runs were walking with some running thrown in) is a big mental hurdle for me. I actually packed my gym bag this morning with plans to leave work at 4 & run 3 miles, even though it's not on my training schedule. Like Forrest Gump, I just wanna run.
Even though the feel-like temperature is 100 degrees. Ick.
When I saw people running this morning on the way to work, I didn't have to envy them. Because I am one of them again. Finally.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Goals
This week marks 13 weeks from the next half marathon in our town. I've run the last 2, and I sure as heck don't want to miss the race on 10/10/10. I totally want a t-shirt with that super cool date.
So, that means I've got to get BUSY. And I ran/walked 3 miles yesterday, and put myself one step closer to my goal. I've got about 10 million more steps to get there, but it all starts with one.
I'd also like to lose 13 pounds in 13 weeks. It sure would make the race easier to run under 150 than at 161. Plus, I need to fit into my fall clothes. That, or go shopping for size 12 pants and I SO am not looking forward to that possibilty. When I stopped running I gained weight. Running again = lose weight? It better!
Goals are good. Now I just have to be consistent and stick2it.
Dad update: we are going to put dad in a nursing home the first week of August. My uncle (who spends the night with him through the week) thinks sooner is better than later. Between running short on funds (VA pays for nursing home so we will not have that cost to bear), caregiver fatigue, and his increasing medical care needs, it's time.
We can't tell my sister because she can't not share the info with dad. And we can't tell dad because it will make him an angry mess until the day he has to leave his house. Let me tell you, this has been a hellish week, carrying the knowledge around and not being able to tell anyone but my husband (no one from my family reads my blog, so it won't get to my sister from here).
It would be a huge blessing if he would pass in the next few weeks, but that's not likely to happen. His appetite is back and he has sort of plateaued. He's going to hate it so much, but we don't have a choice. I visited the home and it was nice, as far as those things go. It didn't smell bad, which is a big deal. And they'll give him a private room. The grounds are really nice, and he can have his special hospital bed the VA bought him (which he's never used) and he can have his fancy wheelchair (where he stays, by his choice, 24/7).
He'll probably not want to even see me after the move, since I'm the one "responsible" for him leaving his home. I handle the finances--had to break the news we are almost out of money and can't support the ridiculous cost of 24/7 care any longer. I and my uncle made the decision. Dad is going to need someone to blame. It's likely to be me. I guess we'll see.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
So, that means I've got to get BUSY. And I ran/walked 3 miles yesterday, and put myself one step closer to my goal. I've got about 10 million more steps to get there, but it all starts with one.
I'd also like to lose 13 pounds in 13 weeks. It sure would make the race easier to run under 150 than at 161. Plus, I need to fit into my fall clothes. That, or go shopping for size 12 pants and I SO am not looking forward to that possibilty. When I stopped running I gained weight. Running again = lose weight? It better!
Goals are good. Now I just have to be consistent and stick2it.
Dad update: we are going to put dad in a nursing home the first week of August. My uncle (who spends the night with him through the week) thinks sooner is better than later. Between running short on funds (VA pays for nursing home so we will not have that cost to bear), caregiver fatigue, and his increasing medical care needs, it's time.
We can't tell my sister because she can't not share the info with dad. And we can't tell dad because it will make him an angry mess until the day he has to leave his house. Let me tell you, this has been a hellish week, carrying the knowledge around and not being able to tell anyone but my husband (no one from my family reads my blog, so it won't get to my sister from here).
It would be a huge blessing if he would pass in the next few weeks, but that's not likely to happen. His appetite is back and he has sort of plateaued. He's going to hate it so much, but we don't have a choice. I visited the home and it was nice, as far as those things go. It didn't smell bad, which is a big deal. And they'll give him a private room. The grounds are really nice, and he can have his special hospital bed the VA bought him (which he's never used) and he can have his fancy wheelchair (where he stays, by his choice, 24/7).
He'll probably not want to even see me after the move, since I'm the one "responsible" for him leaving his home. I handle the finances--had to break the news we are almost out of money and can't support the ridiculous cost of 24/7 care any longer. I and my uncle made the decision. Dad is going to need someone to blame. It's likely to be me. I guess we'll see.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Not easy
Life is nuts right now and has been the past couple weeks. All but Sophie had the stomach flu. Thankfully that seems to be over.
But the big stuff going on involves my dad. My sister's leave may not be approved and if it isn't my dad will likely go to a nursing home. And while this will be hard, it will be a relief too.
Getting dad to agree to it is another matter all together.
Nothing is set yet, but it's going to be a rough time for a while. Every day is one step closer to this being over.
I weighed 159 this morning. Could be worse.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
But the big stuff going on involves my dad. My sister's leave may not be approved and if it isn't my dad will likely go to a nursing home. And while this will be hard, it will be a relief too.
Getting dad to agree to it is another matter all together.
Nothing is set yet, but it's going to be a rough time for a while. Every day is one step closer to this being over.
I weighed 159 this morning. Could be worse.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod Touch
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