Movement & Exercise are not punishment

I was riding along the other day, blissfully pedaling on a somewhat cooler summer morning (a rarity these days, so it felt extra special) and realized just how much I was enjoying the ride. These occasions happen now and again, so it wasn't particularly significant, but I was soaking it all in and truly enjoying each pedal stroke. Some days simply offer a special feeling, as though I could ride forever. The perfect collision of temperature, body-readiness, feeling capable, and equipment function, I suppose. If I were to try to create it, I couldn't, but when it happens I try to enjoy every single moment to its fullest.

Having this sort of ride happens once in awhile, so it wasn't necessarily unusual, but what occurred to me as I pedaled is how often I have participated in movement -- be it running, walking, working out or even riding -- and it has felt like torture.  Sometimes it happens because my body is overworked and I am forcing myself to keep up some sort of idea of routine. At other times it may be that I have an injury and I am trying to "suck it up" and carry on. And still other moments I find that it is because of some perceived pressure I feel from others -- whether it is real or imagined. 

I have shared a bit of my past and childhood in this space at times over the years, and I know that some of that likely plays a role in how I perceive movement to this day. We were not a particularly physically active family when I was a kid, and when I did start to exercise it was only because I was being body shamed and thought that I had to do something to get fat off of my body. It was never about enjoying the activity (though I did enjoy at times), but rather had more to do with the idea that I had to lose weight and the way to do that was to work my body until I couldn't move any longer. Some of it may have been self-inflicted, but I have no doubt that outside sources were the main cause of this behavior.

The last year for me has been an exercise in not being able to maintain much of a routine. With all that was going on, it wasn't realistic to throw in one more "thing" to the mix. During the height of the pandemic, I was probably one of the few people who worked out and rode significantly more than I did pre-pandemic. Work was fairly non-existent for me and it seemed easy to fill the hours primarily with riding. I rode two to three times as much as I would have prior, and I wasn't slacking off prior to the pandemic. There were days though when I felt I was doing it out of some sort of imaginary obligation. I wasn't doing any real work and I didn't want to sit at home doing nothing, so I pedaled and hoped that it would help my mental state. Most days it did. But then, nothing extreme is maintainable over the long haul.

In the past, I have had trainers tell me that I should develop a routine so that when I have days (or weeks, months) when I don't feel like doing the work, the routine itself will carry me through the difficult time. In some sense, I understand this thinking. As someone who likes to and wants to be able to do things, but is not in any way, shape or form naturally athletic, if the base training isn't present, it's very challenging to pick up one day and do the thing - the activity, whatever it is - with any sort of capability. However, I think this thinking in general can be a bit flawed. 

When I have the idea that I must carry on, regardless of how I feel, it creates pressure or a sense that no matter what is happening, even if I am injured or exhausted, I need to stick to the routine. Granted, most trainers will build in rest days to a training program, but I do think it can become something that creates a mental pattern in which I start to think that more is better, and when the day comes that I cannot necessarily continue at the same level (due to time constraints, aging, injury, or whatever the cause), it can feel as though I am now a lesser human. Or, at least I know that is how I have felt over much of the last year. Logically, I know that isn't the case, but it's difficult to control what the mind wants to believe without significant work to do otherwise.

I have stated in the past, many times over, that my life has felt like a struggle for balance. I suppose in some sense it is what most humans are seeking. I often wonder if balance is really a thing at all and if in truth I am chasing something that doesn't exist. Maybe life is just a series of overdoing one or two things for a stretch of time and then returning to others, or adding in new interests or activities? Maybe balance is just a myth created to give humans something to hope to achieve in times when the world feels chaotic.

What I have realized, however, is that even if balance is never achievable, movement should not be punishment or feel like punishment. There may be times, moments or certain activities during which I wish to push myself harder than I normally would. Sometimes, it feels good to go beyond what I thought possible, to make it hurt just a bit, to stretch beyond what I would normally believe my limit. But, I know that when movement starts to feel like a punishment, it will definitely not be something I want to do regularly, and in fact, may be doing more harm than good. It's why I have tried my best to find activities that I enjoy, at least most of the time (there will always be those tougher days), and am reminding myself now that it's okay if I am not who I once was or able to do what I once did. I am doing what I can do now and if/when the time is right, I will do other things or more of the things I did once upon a time. 

450 Push-ups

What does one do in the middle of a cold, snowy Sunday afternoon? Why 450 push-ups, of course! Perhaps a bit of back story is in order first though.

I could totally look like her, right? Okay, maybe not.

I have had a rough few weeks with focusing on working out. I've gone to all the kickboxing classes, and on the surface it seems as though I'm continuing on with my grand plan, but I know that I've not been doing my best. I've requested a kick in the rear from my instructors, but I also know that they are nice people and probably won't be too keen on the idea, but I knew I needed something to get me back in the game.

So, this afternoon I decided I was going to see how many push-ups I could do. At the start, my back was in pain and I figured I might not make it very far, but the stubborn girl within broke through and I was determined to do at least 200. When I got to 200, I decided 300 was possible, and so on. At 450, I knew that I needed to stop, even though a part of me wanted to continue on. Unfortunately, I do have to function tomorrow, so I called it quits, but I was so excited to be able to accomplish such a goal. This, from the woman who just 8 months ago couldn't do 5 push-ups (really, I couldn't do one, if I'm honest). So crazy what half a year can do for a person!!

Discouraged and Drained

Today, I am completely drained. I feel beat up: mentally and physically. Next Saturday is belt testing in kickboxing and it will be my sixth month in a row to test. Now, it may not seem like a big deal, but for most people, one belt takes anywhere from two (if they go frequently) to six months (if they're more of a "couple of times a week" sort of participant) to complete. That should help to better define how many classes I'm going to every week, and why it is that I'm so tired. Generally, this schedule doesn't kill me (it's tough, but I make it through), but it seems the last couple of weeks have been extra difficult in that the instructors seem to want to put everyone in the class into a state of complete exhaustion. They have each asked me to do things that I am not physically able to do, and it's causing me to re-evaluate why it is I'm in such a hurry to get to the next level.

Put simply, my body hasn't had enough time to catch up to the level I should be for a given belt and it's frustrating me. As much as I want to will my body to do the things I want it to do, it just doesn't seem to want to cooperate, and I can't say I blame it. I'm asking a lot of it. Two kickboxing classes a day, riding my bike, the occasional gym visit - it all adds up; yet, my weight loss isn't on par with the amount of work I put in. The reality is that I have a lot of extra weight and asking my body to do these things repeatedly, day after day, week after week, and month after month is taking its toll. The last couple of weeks have reminded me that I am still the fat girl, and as much as I don't want to be that person, I can't seem to escape that reality.

I've started to wonder if this is just what I will be for the rest of my life. Perhaps I will never have anything even remotely close to a normal body weight? Those fears cause even more anxiety because I find myself wondering why one would push herself so hard if this is all there is for me to achieve. I suppose I'm just tired of being the fat girl. I don't want to be the biggest person in my classes. I don't want to be the biggest person in any given room. Living in the supposed "fittest" state in the U.S. doesn't really help matters because I'm surrounded my health nuts. There are plenty of overweight folks, so don't let the statistics fool anyone, but there is the reality looming that I am fatter than almost anyone here.

What is my point? In summary:
1. I'm fat. As much as I've lost weight, there is so much more to go.
2. I'm slow. I don't lose weight quickly, and I seem to be slow catching up athletically/fitness-wise as well.
3. I'm discouraged. Being unable to keep up during kickboxing classes makes me fear even more the belt tests... not to mention, that I've been playing with the same couple of pounds for three weeks.

Although I realize these feeling will pass, and I will hopefully feel more capable as the days roll by, it's such a horrible place to find oneself - trapped in my own thoughts and feelings.

Excuses

I was thinking today about excuses that people make (including myself). Excuses to not exercise, excuses to not watch what I'm eating, excuses to not pursue dreams. Excuses come in many forms - everything from jobs, to kids, to not having energy. Part of excuses for me personally is to hide from others. Typically, I'm not one to share a lot of personal information with people. I tend to give superficial information so that it seems as though I'm providing others a glimpse into my life, but without details no one has the opportunity to get too close or to potentially bring me harm. I've become quite good at it over the course of my life, and it never ceases to amaze me how people think they know me, when in fact they know very little about my life (or at least, nothing of significance). I do this quite intentionally. I have learned in adulthood that people aren't the way we were as kids. They don't just show up one day out of nowhere and become your friend. They don't love unconditionally. They don't really care about me or what's happening in my life. I don't mean that to sound like a giant pity party, but more so that it's just a reality of being an adult. We have other things that occupy our time - friends we've had since childhood, perhaps children and their activities, spouses, occupations, hobbies, and so on. Why would we want to bring new people into our circle?

*Image from Pinterest

But, back to excuses... Before I started this journey, I used to say that there was no hope of me losing weight - that I'm genetically predisposed to be fat, so why bother doing anything about it? Even given the fact that my entire family is overweight/obese, I don't think this is an excuse to not be healthy. Sure, I will never be a person who is tiny, but it doesn't mean that I can't be the healthiest person I can be. I find myself becoming very angry when I don't lose weight, and I think part of that is because I know how hard I work every day to see it come off, and it doesn't seem "fair" that while I can easily gain 10 pounds in a week, it will take about 4-10 weeks to get that same 10 pounds off of my body. Working out 2-3 hours a day, 5-6 days a week, it becomes aggravating to not have steady progress. Regardless though, it is progress. It might be slow - but it's progress nonetheless. I know my body pretty well, and I know that weight loss, if done correctly, is always slow for me. Slowness is also not an excuse to give up.

It would be easy to go on with the number of excuses available to use, but the reality is that as the saying goes, if you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always got. I am not willing to accept what the past has brought into my life, and the only way to fix that is to change what I have done while moving forward.

Running {Errr... Jogging}

For someone who ran a marathon not too many years ago, I have been struggling immensely with running/jogging these days. Mind you, for the last couple of years, I haven't run very often, and over the last 6-9 months I would say that my jogging has been extremely minimal - really, non-existent. When I was training for the marathon, I was on a mission. I was determined to run, and to finish a pretty big goal, but after it was over, the running/jogging slowly went out of the routine. Part of it was people (doctors and other experts) scaring me out of it. The reminders of how large I am and how I could be creating unnecessary strain or even injuries to my legs/knees wasn't helping matters. I had pretty much decided that walking, elliptical machines and bicycles would take over for the cardio portion of working out. The problem came in to play when I realized that I had nothing to be working towards. No one does elliptical races or elliptical distance trials (or maybe they do, but I've just not heard of them).

When I picked up kickboxing in March of this year, I allowed that to become my main source of exercise (except for biking). The problem with that is that while there is definitely a lot of sweat and heart pounding action taking place, I don't ever really get to work on sustained aerobic activity. Exercises are done in fairly short segments and are done more for intensity than anything else. It's not surprising then that when boot camps started a couple of weeks ago and I was expected to run, I really couldn't do it.

"Man am I out of shape!" I keep uttering to myself as I attempt (and subsequently fail) to keep up with the others. "How is this possible?" I know very well how it's possible as has been outlined above, but I suppose I figured that somehow my ability to sustain some kind of kickboxing work out would spread to running... Yeah, I'm not horribly bright. It doesn't help that every few feet we have to stop running and do lunges, jumping jacks, or some other exercise, which only slows me down more. I have considered the fact that maybe I'm trying to fight a battle I just can't win. I wasn't a fast runner even when training, so perhaps I'm expecting too much?

There are plenty of running plans out there I could be doing, but I suppose most of it has to do with time. What am I willing to give up in order to be able to run again, or do I even care that I can't run? I suppose that is the biggest question. Part of me thinks that perhaps I will find motivation to run again when I drop a bit more weight, while the other part of me thinks that it could help me if I'd get back into it and I just spent more time now running. The biggest obstacle for me is that I never really enjoyed running - it was just a challenge for me to try to complete a marathon, and if I'm not enjoying it, that means I won't really stick with it for the long term... and isn't it more important that I find something I can sustain, rather than feeling like a failure for not currently running?

A Change in Routine

The kickboxing class I attend is currently in the middle of a schedule shake up due to sharing of studio space with a karate/tae kwon do class. For the next month, we are taking to the local parks two days a week for a boot camp class instead of attempting to share the studio with the other classes. I was actually excited to be able to get out of the indoor environment and see the kinds of things that anyone can do without equipment.  Here is what I've learned thus far:

The Good
It is awesome to have the opportunity to be outside. Although I'm already aware of this from riding my bike, it's been fun to experience the parks in a different way. The classes are happening early enough to keep the days' heat from killing us all, and I honestly feel as though I'm working my muscles harder (mostly because the ground is uneven, and I'm not a horribly coordinated individual) than if I were in the studio (despite the fact that I do miss the bags on these days). I've learned that there really is no excuse not to do something, even when away from home, but I also know that having someone there to push me is a great motivator.

The Bad
For me, I always feel like the weak link in the bunch. In my mind, I think there's no reason I can't keep up with everyone else, but then reality sets in and I realize how much the extra lbs slow me down. While I know that I'm doing all I can and pushing myself, it's incredibly frustrating to know that I am always last and there isn't anything I can do about it. I feel bad for the individual who ends up getting stuck with me as a partner because I know that I am dragging them down when we're doing paired up activities.

The Ugly
I leave looking like quite a mess. Because the classes are taking place just after (or during) the grass sprinklers routine watering, it is a muddy mess, and because much of the work involves getting on the ground, I leave looking as though I was just involved in a mud wrestling bout. I'm also allergic to grass, so I end up wheezing most of the time and scratching like some kind of diseased individual. It isn't pretty.

Overall, I am enjoying the short term change. Doing things like lunges across a field and dangling our feet on swings while we do push-ups is an interesting switch up, and even if I'm not the most capable in the class, I have to remind myself that I'm doing my best and some day I'll be able to (hopefully) keep up with the rest of the group.

Losing Weight on Vacation

Our intended two week vacation turned into a much shorter round than anticipated, and we ended up being gone a total of 7 days. I was actually pleased to be returning earlier than we'd thought because I knew it would allow me to get back in to my routine of working out multiple times a day and eating better. Oh, the eating! Why does everyone seem to want to feed us on vacation? Every stop we make seems to include a meal, and rarely does it include options that offer anything remotely low in calories.

What I cannot seem to figure out is that every time I go on vacation, I lose weight. It's perplexing to say the least because on most vacations, I don't work out (or, it's extremely limited), and I'm eating high sodium, high calorie items for most meals, and very seldom getting the water intake that I need, yet somehow, weight comes off. This has happened for years, regardless of how well I was eating before leaving on a trip. I've tried to factor in that there is usually a bit of walking around to touristy sorts of locations, but surely it's not burning as many calories as intense cardio/weight workouts?

If we go on the premise that in order to lose 1 pound an individual must restrict/burn 3,500 calories, I would have had to have burned 7,000 extra calories in the 7 days away in order to drop the two pounds I lost. I have to admit that I was not great about logging calories while on vacation simply because I have no idea what is in many of the foods, how they are cooked, how much oil, etc is being used, but I can take a good guess that calories are definitely more than I would normally eat, and most certainly consist of foods that I consider to be once-in-a-great-while type of items. When I punch in my guesses for the foods and their preparation, this is how calories show:

Day 1: 2,199 calories
Day 2: 2,891 calories
Day 3: 2,044 calories
Day 4: 1,773 calories
Day 5: 1,742 calories
Day 6: 2,134 calories
Day 7: 2,204 calories
Total for week: 14,987
Average daily: 2,141

I should mention that we did specifically set out to work out a few times while we were gone. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday (days 2, 4, 6), we did a 30-40 minute circuit work out to attempt to counter act some of the food madness that was taking place. Although the calories consumed don't seem that outrageous considering I ate very few meals in a controlled environment, it's still more than I would consume normally when I am working out daily...about 400 calories more on average a day. This may not seem like much, but considering the drop in working out, it is significant. I also felt incredibly bloated upon return, so despite the fact that I lost weight, I was not feeling tops about myself.

Trying to determine why I lost at all, leaves me scratching my head. First of all, I did, oh, about 1/8 of the normal work outs I would get in during a typical week (not even including riding my bike). I did attempt to make some reasonable choices much of the time, but even when choosing a gardenburger over some meat alternative (which I would normally do anyway since I'm not a cow-eater), I still ate french fries, potato chips, or onion rings with it, only adding to the fat/calories.

I do have theories though as to how/why this happened.
1) This is all a fluke. The fact that it is only a 1 week time period makes it difficult to say certainly what happens during this short time away. Perhaps if I continued to eat like this, I would ultimately end up gaining.
2) My body really does need more calories in order to lose weight - even more than what I thought initially. I was working out far less than normal and eating more, yet somehow I dropped 2 lbs (for the record, this loss was not just restricted to me, as Sam also dropped 1.5 lbs).
3) I'm burning more calories than I think on vacation. The fact that while on vacation we tend to walk around and see things more than we would at home could be helping to keep the extra calories from adding up to extra pounds.
4) Like many other times when I seem to randomly drop pounds, there is some mysterious combination of activity and food taking place.
5) Lacking the normal stresses of everyday life, my body finally relaxes and just does what it needs to do. I wasn't focused on or stressed about what or when I was going to eat, it just happened organically.

My problem with this being a complete fluke is that it happens every time we go on vacation. I joke about it when we're getting ready to leave by stating that I'm excited to go because I know I will eat poorly and lose weight. While it is a joke, it does happen every...single... time. Insanity, I know. I also don't think I'm burning more calories while on vacation because while we do walk around to see things, it is leisurely and typically isn't all day long. This leaves three options, but while I do think it's all quite mysterious, I don't actually believe that there is something magical or mysterious happening - I just don't happen to understand what it is that's going on.

Now down to two options (I need more calories, and vacation gets rid of excess stress), I actually think it's a combination of these two remaining theories. One of the things that benefits me while on vacation is that I'm not a snacker, so every time others want to stop and get a nibble of something, I decline (not because I think I'm being holier than anyone else, but I genuinely am not a snacker and never have been). This is potentially eliminating several unnecessary calories. In addition, if I am offered dessert, I take it politely, but I eat just a few bites. I also try not to eat unless I'm genuinely hungry. Sometimes, this means skipping a meal (which I would normally recommend against), but because I know I'm consuming more than normal, it seems like a bad idea to eat when I'm not hungry. I also don't think about or obsess over what I'm eating. If I can make a smarter choice, I will (because I want this to be a life change, not a temporary change), but I also don't want to deprive myself of something I'd like to try because I don't know how many calories are in it. I have been there and done that in the past and it doesn't help. Ultimately, I will give in and it will be far worse than just having a single meal or a few bites of something "bad."

Although I still don't seem to completely understand what takes place during vacation that causes weight loss, I am going to accept it and get back to the normal routine because even though I was fortunate to not come home to a weight gain, I very much missed my regular workouts and feeling good.

Sensitivity to "Fat" Comments

A topic that comes up somewhat regularly in our household is that of the public's perception of overweight or obese individuals. On rare occasions, I find myself in tears because of something someone has said in an online forum or in some kind of magazine. I am well aware of the fact that having fat on my body is completely unacceptable to the majority of the population. The problem for me comes in when I realize that I am being judged on a continual basis. Those guys I just passed in the pick up truck while riding my bike - yeah, they were judging me. The "serious cyclist"{picture kit-clad, 14lbs carbon bike riding individual} giving me a look while I ride my steel road bike at human speeds, rather than super speeds. The teenage girls, the mother of four - you name it - they are all judging me.

I don't live my life as though I'm being constantly judged, but every now and again, a reminder is brought to my attention that "they" are in fact watching, observing, and letting me know that "they" are the "superiors" of this planet.

I can nearly guarantee that I work out harder than nearly any of them, and have for quite awhile. My annoyance comes out when someone insists on making statements such as "fat and lazy" or "obese because they do nothing," and I can feel my temper begin to flare as I take these comments personally. How can I not? Basically, these folks are telling me that I eat poorly and don't move, and thus the fat on my body. But that is not reality for me. I cannot begin to count the number of times I have cried because I am doing everything I physically can to change my body and nothing seems to work.

Unfortunately, these times generally coincide with me finding a random comment on a blog or some online forum that just infuriates me. No one should be lumped together. We are all individuals and we come with different quirks and issues, in different shapes and sizes, and have different abilities and goals. I do my best to take solace in the fact that I know I'm doing everything I can to be the best me - and isn't that really all anyone can do?

Sam {partner in life/crime}tries to tell me that he doesn't know anyone who thinks I'm "fat and lazy," and states that anyone who knows me is well aware that I am a strong woman. I'd like to believe that because I do think I am strong, and getting stronger every day. As for changing the attitudes of other people, I'm not sure that is ever possible. The only thing I can do is try to alter the way I take in information, and know that I am doing everything in my power to better myself. You know the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?" Well, that isn't the case for me... sticks and stones aren't going to break my bones because I am strong... and their words - well, I'm doing my best to not let them hurt me either.

I Am a Rockstar: 200 Burpees

Last night, I completed 200 burpees in kickboxing. I should say that the 200 burpees were in fact the kickboxing class. I should also clarify that they weren't exactly the burpees illustrated in the link above as I'm still struggling to hop up on my weight, but they were more of lay down stand up and jump kind of repetitions. Regardless of semantics, here is how it went down.

As I arrived for my second round of butt-kicking fun, I was told that I would be doing something different from the class tonight. Okay? I could hear the whispers going around. "What did she do?" and "Why is she being punished?" were spreading like wildfire as instructor Chris set me up. He stated that all I was going to do during the class was 100 burpees. He didn't care how long it took or if I needed to stop for water, and I could break them down any way I would like, but that was going to be my class.

"I can do that," was my reply. To which he said, "I know you can."

With about 20-25 minutes left of class, I had reached 100 reps. What was I going to do? I certainly couldn't just sit down and watch the rest of class. Should I get up and just join them as they finished off? I decided that I would go for "extra credit" and do a few more while I waited for class to end. Unfortunately for me, Chris took notice of this and exclaimed that I could get to 200. Wait, what? I'm just doing extra credit here man... not looking to double what you asked me to do. I mean, I'm an over-achiever, but I don't want to die.

As my body slowed and my breathing intensified, I told Chris I didn't think I could make it to 200 by the end of class. He told me not to worry that he would stay after so that I could complete them. Good lord... I don't want to get to 200 - except that, part of me did want to get there. By the time the class had finished, I had 11 reps left to complete. I was exhausted and sweating like the little piggy I am. The rest of the class joined me as I finished off (quite slowly) the remaining "burpees," after which Chris exclaimed, "You are a rockstar!"

And for a brief moment, I did feel like a rockstar.

It was no small feat for me to complete these. I have a hard time doing 5 of them during regular classes and I just did 200. I should've been completely proud of myself and rejoicing that I didn't keel over, but as soon as I started to allow myself to feel any sort of pride, the whispering demons snuck in to my head.

"You didn't really do burpees. You were merely laying down and standing up with a hop at the end."

"You could have done them so much faster. Why did you keep taking breaks? Too much resting!"

"Why didn't you do 250? If you weren't going to do them properly, you could've at least done more reps."

If it had been anyone other then myself, I would've been cheering them on, telling them they were doing an awesome job, and truly thinking that they were in fact a rockstar. Why can't I just allow myself to be happy and proud, instead of finding reasons to discount what I have accomplished? I just doubled what I was asked to do, and yet, somehow that still isn't good enough in my mind.

This is really something that I need to explore more deeply because it is a definite character flaw. While pushing ones self is important, I also have to be able to enjoy the moment of success, rather than beating myself up for what I have just completed. I honestly don't know how to repair it, other than to force myself into saying that I did a good job and working on believing it.

For now, I am trying to appreciate what I did last night, and allow my bruised knees and skinless toes to recover before I return tomorrow for the next round.

Overcoming the Obstacle of Me

Today is a rough day. I am struggling mentally with a lot of things, and when my head is occupied with frivolity, my workouts seem to suffer, my mental state suffers, and everyone around me is forced to endure my random mood swings. My biggest enemy seems to be me at the moment, and I don't know how to fix it, so I keep thinking that getting it all out will help - but even talking seems to just keep me wading in the mucky waters. How am I supposed to feel better about myself when nothing changes? I want so badly to just live in the moment and appreciate it for what it is at this time, but it seems almost impossible. I have always lived in a future state of mind and to bring myself to engaging in the present seems to be quite difficult.

Often, I don't even know how to express the complexity of garbage going on inside, and if I can't even get the words out, how am I supposed to be able to let go of everything? I am a very fortunate person. I have the privilege of being able to work my own hours, at home, doing something I enjoy. I am surrounded by my fur children, and a husband who seems to love me, even when I'm a complete nut case. We live in a great old town area, in a house that is perfect for us. If I want to work out in the middle of the day, go for a bike ride, or just wander down the road, I can. Again, I do appreciate and understand just how fortunate I really am. However, there are other things that seem to linger in my mind and I just can't seem to let go of them.

I find myself getting angry at my parents for not teaching better habits to their children and not having enough sense to keep their own bodies strong. While I realize I am an adult and in control of my behaviors, actions, and reactions, I haven't let go of the fact that I blame them - not for my current physical state - but for creating genetics that seem to severely impede on my ability to get the body I desire. No matter how hard I work, nothing seems to change. I get tired of working hard all the time to have no results. I feel stronger, but I don't feel more capable, and my body has not changed. It's frustrating to say the least.

There are many issues outside the weight issues and lack of changes in my body, but one that I am concerned about most is that I am struggling with who I am as a person. I don't like who I am or who I've become. I can't help but wonder if somewhere the train went off course. I feel so far off at this point I don't know if there's any hope of getting me back where I should be. Maybe this is just the path of life? We don't get to know or even predict how things will turn.

In the mean time, I am doing my best to stay focused on this day... this hour... this moment. Hopefully, that will help focus some of the excess energy being wasted on things that I can't change.

Struggling Already?

I have been logging calories and exercise for about a month now (today is actually day 32, as I just calculated), and I have been somewhat consistently losing during that time. A little over two weeks ago, I decided that I had to get back to the gym. Just five years ago I had made a habit of being at the gym 5-6 days a week and in the last year to a year and a half, it all fell apart. What gives? I thought something was a habit if you had done it routinely for a year? 

I know very well what happened - boredom. While many people crave routine and hate change, I am not one of them and if I don't keep things interesting, I have no desire to exercise. I have kept up riding my bike, but I honestly don't count that as exercise, but rather just something I enjoy. A kickboxing class that had been presented to me over a year ago, re-presented itself and I couldn't say no. So, for the last couple of weeks I've been doing that instead of the gym. I am hopeful that it is going to provide motivation for me to get back to the gym, or at least to exercise. While the class is wonderful and tones, strengthens and provides cardiovascular work, I know that the in between days are still going to need something. I can't do that sort of intensity 6 days a week - nor do I want to because it will become dull.

I have realized that while I have a lot of weight to lose and I generally lose it pretty slowly, I am okay with it. Honestly, it hasn't been very slow to this point, and I have absolutely nothing to complain about, so I want to just keep eating so I'm not starving (which I haven't been starving, so no need to start), develop a solid exercise habit (even if it changes now and again to new exercises), and feel better. Yes, I want to lose weight, and yes I want to be healthy - but I have been both overweight and healthy, so the health is far more important to me than the actual pounds. 

As I have told myself in the past, this is not a "diet" in the traditional sense, but a change of habits. I have to eat at least 3 times a day, and I don't know why that seems to be so difficult for me. I suppose when one has developed habits of eating once a day, it just needs to be rearranged. I've done well for the last month eating 3-4 times a day, so I believe it is possible, even with an insanely busy schedule, to make it happen. I have lost about 18 pounds to date - pretty incredible.

I look forward to the changes ahead and seeing my body morph into what I know it can be.