I was in bed, couldn't sleep, got up and ate. I am now 240 calories over for the day. I only burnt 321 with my workout today. Not cool. Didn't I just write it's just food? In all fairness, my stomach was grumbling. Excuses, excuses. I don't do this often, thankfully, but I'm not happy with myself.
Feeling very frustrated tonight. I am not where i should be weight wise. I should have lost much more by now. Is my health problem stalling things? I know the pain is wearing me down. I hate whining about that all the time, but it is very real.
Talked to hubby on the phone tonight. He's been out of town all week and will be home tomorrow. He asked me about my pain. Well, yeah, it's still here. When I do a cardio, I pick very carefully what I will do. I go for high calorie burners. Yesterday and today both I did a cardio and burnt in the low 300s. That tells me how I'm feeling, because typically I'll burn 450ish. But...at least I worked out.
This has been a bad month pain wise. I just looked at my workout calendar on my blog and I'm actually proud that I was able to work out so much. My heart rate monitor watch beeps at me each week that I'm not hitting my target, and I smile back and think it's a miracle I did what I did.
I want so much more than this. I want to be athletic. I want my body to cooperate. sigh
I don't have a lot of energy. This whole business has been very draining. i just wrote about losing that zest and I really want it back. I need to dig deep to find it, it's crucial.
I will find it--hopefully sooner than later. Only a couple weeks to go until my surgery. I hope to hell that he can find what's causing the pain and fix it. I think every bit of energy I have right now is on that--meditating, praying, projecting health, visualizing, etc.
I hate being such a downer all the time.
5.29.2010
5.27.2010
July 8, 1979
This is an entry from my diary. I was staying with a sister, and this is about her.
Pot calling the kettle black
We learn and do what we see
Set an example, kids are watching and learning...
I could come up with many titles for this entry.
At that point in my life, I ate very little. I was a very picky eater and couldn't be bothered with all that eating business. I've read in my diary that mom would fix dinner, such as stuffed green peppers, and I would eat a slice of bread instead. (To this day I despise stuffed green peppers.) My mom was livid. She would get so angry with me. I also remember a time when I was much younger that mom grew tomatoes and had way too many. We had tomatoes for lunch and dinner every day forever, it seemed. I drew my line at her stewed tomatoes. I remember refusing to eat them because I was sick of tomatoes and my mother made me sit at that kitchen table for hours. She even got a wooden spoon out and banged it on the table in front of me trying to scare me into eating. I won. I never let them touch my lips. I was at my limit with tomatoes.
Funny, today I will use canned stewed tomatoes in recipes, but I would never serve them as a side dish.
The quote above? I laughed when I read it. I turned into that, snacking like crazy, eating dinner leftovers instead of using them as a meal the next day, too. When I was 14, though, I could not understand that. Eat when you're hungry, eat just enough, then get on with life. I need to embrace that now. So when did my mind flip the switch into a weird eater? When did I become my mother and my sisters? I always hated the way they all ate when I was young. I also hated that none of them exercised, and I was always very fit and active.
That love of fitness has come back to me full force. When I don't have the stupid pain, exercising is my greatest joy (aside from my son and hubby, that is.) I live for it.
So did I learn this behavior from them? Did I just give in and follow suit? That's what I saw so I accepted it as my fate?
I remember being slightly hungry when I was young--and by young, I'm saying teens through about age 20. When I was 18 and 19, if I got to 120 on the scale, I quit eating. 117, 118 were my favorite numbers. I might have been slightly hungry many times, but I still had energy and was active. It was no big deal to be slightly hungry.
Now? I freak out when I'm slightly hungry. I hope that I can work on and find a happy medium between the two.
If I got my fitness groove back, maybe I can find a happy medium about food. It's fuel for the body, it's nutrition, that's it. It's not happiness, it doesn't make problems go away, it's not my friend. It's just food.
"I've learned she's so fat because she eats when she gets up, at lunch, dinner, then snacks and snacks and snacks. To top that off, she eats a large snack before she goes to bed. I told her we were going to have the dinner leftovers for lunch tomorrow, but she's in there eating it right now. I don't mean to pick, but I just don't like this."
Pot calling the kettle black
We learn and do what we see
Set an example, kids are watching and learning...
I could come up with many titles for this entry.
At that point in my life, I ate very little. I was a very picky eater and couldn't be bothered with all that eating business. I've read in my diary that mom would fix dinner, such as stuffed green peppers, and I would eat a slice of bread instead. (To this day I despise stuffed green peppers.) My mom was livid. She would get so angry with me. I also remember a time when I was much younger that mom grew tomatoes and had way too many. We had tomatoes for lunch and dinner every day forever, it seemed. I drew my line at her stewed tomatoes. I remember refusing to eat them because I was sick of tomatoes and my mother made me sit at that kitchen table for hours. She even got a wooden spoon out and banged it on the table in front of me trying to scare me into eating. I won. I never let them touch my lips. I was at my limit with tomatoes.
Funny, today I will use canned stewed tomatoes in recipes, but I would never serve them as a side dish.
The quote above? I laughed when I read it. I turned into that, snacking like crazy, eating dinner leftovers instead of using them as a meal the next day, too. When I was 14, though, I could not understand that. Eat when you're hungry, eat just enough, then get on with life. I need to embrace that now. So when did my mind flip the switch into a weird eater? When did I become my mother and my sisters? I always hated the way they all ate when I was young. I also hated that none of them exercised, and I was always very fit and active.
That love of fitness has come back to me full force. When I don't have the stupid pain, exercising is my greatest joy (aside from my son and hubby, that is.) I live for it.
So did I learn this behavior from them? Did I just give in and follow suit? That's what I saw so I accepted it as my fate?
I remember being slightly hungry when I was young--and by young, I'm saying teens through about age 20. When I was 18 and 19, if I got to 120 on the scale, I quit eating. 117, 118 were my favorite numbers. I might have been slightly hungry many times, but I still had energy and was active. It was no big deal to be slightly hungry.
Now? I freak out when I'm slightly hungry. I hope that I can work on and find a happy medium between the two.
If I got my fitness groove back, maybe I can find a happy medium about food. It's fuel for the body, it's nutrition, that's it. It's not happiness, it doesn't make problems go away, it's not my friend. It's just food.
Wee Hours
I haven't blogged for awhile because for once, I really have nothing to say.
I'm in a perpetual state of numbness, I guess. Upon closer examination, I'm:
I've just been going through the motions as of late.
Rather disgusted that the swelling I thought had left me has returned. It got really hot here, close to 100 with high humidity, and that heat was like a light switch in my body: my legs and ankles swelled up. The right leg is worse. Makes me angry--I had so hoped that was all taken care of. Oh well.
With swelling goes a rise in the scale. I usually weigh every morning, but with the swelling I have not been. It would just depress me seeing the number go up even though I know it's just water. That said, I know the scale has not moved down.
My heart is not in "this" like it was. Right now I'm just focused on getting this pain/surgery taken care of. I'm still counting calories and exercising when I can, but when you don't have "it" and by it I mean that zest, I think everything falls short. It will come back, I'm certain. Patience. Just need to get over this big hurdle.
This past weekend I bought a new pair of New Balance shoes. My workout shoes were way too big and my feet were starting to hurt. I went from a size 8 to 8 1/2 down to a 7, which is what I wore for years. I have wide feet and did when I was skinny, but lo and behold, my new shoes are not wides.
Dear husband, if you're reading this, Georgia and Charlie bought me more shoes tonight. So now I have blue, black and orange.
I've also been re-thinking my strength workouts. I've been putzing along with Cathe's STS. It's okay. I like it better than P90X, but I couldn't put my finger on it, it just didn't seem right. Then I got out my two books on the topic and started reading. New Rules of Lifting for Women and Body for Life. I really like how each program pyramids, you do 12 reps with light, then go up and do 10 reps, then go up and do 8 reps, then up and do 6 reps and then you do it all in reverse. So one night instead of doing my Cathe, I did the Body for Life upper body and wow oh wow, did I have doms and I swear I have more definition. So I think I'll continue to tweak and change the way I'm doing strength. I want to build muscle.
And on a final note, tonight I was cleaning our bedroom and I unearthed my diary I got for my 14th birthday. Since my son is that age now, I got it out and started reading. What an eye opener. Things I had forgotten. Being called a bitch to my face by my sister and my mother. I had completely suppressed that. After reading, I remembered it -- plus worse. I read and read, but I didn't cry--it was as if this great compassion and understanding overwhelmed me. I've always felt -- well, not insecure, but as if I wasn't good enough, as if I had to prove myself, and that I always had to be perfect. Reading the diary tonight made me understand why. I plan on reading more as time goes on. I wrote in this into my 20s. Lots of calorie-free food for thought.
I found it very interesting that every entry I signed, "I love me, Jo." What 14 year old does that? Many of the entries were searching for love. I find it very strange because as an adult, my mom and I were very close. Lots more thinking for me. I also found it interesting that I had issues with my sister at age 14--many, and not typical sister issues. I read some things that made the hair on my neck stand up.
It's interesting how things appear when you need them--or perhaps when you're ready to deal with them. The older I get, the smarter I get and am able to see 2 + 2 and get it to total 4. It's time to do some math. I have a feeling digging deep may help me tremendously on my journey. Perhaps it will stir that inner fire that is now just a glowing ember and get it flaming again.
I'm in a perpetual state of numbness, I guess. Upon closer examination, I'm:
scared nervous worried overwhelmed hurting zoning
I've just been going through the motions as of late.
Rather disgusted that the swelling I thought had left me has returned. It got really hot here, close to 100 with high humidity, and that heat was like a light switch in my body: my legs and ankles swelled up. The right leg is worse. Makes me angry--I had so hoped that was all taken care of. Oh well.
With swelling goes a rise in the scale. I usually weigh every morning, but with the swelling I have not been. It would just depress me seeing the number go up even though I know it's just water. That said, I know the scale has not moved down.
My heart is not in "this" like it was. Right now I'm just focused on getting this pain/surgery taken care of. I'm still counting calories and exercising when I can, but when you don't have "it" and by it I mean that zest, I think everything falls short. It will come back, I'm certain. Patience. Just need to get over this big hurdle.
This past weekend I bought a new pair of New Balance shoes. My workout shoes were way too big and my feet were starting to hurt. I went from a size 8 to 8 1/2 down to a 7, which is what I wore for years. I have wide feet and did when I was skinny, but lo and behold, my new shoes are not wides.
Dear husband, if you're reading this, Georgia and Charlie bought me more shoes tonight. So now I have blue, black and orange.
I've also been re-thinking my strength workouts. I've been putzing along with Cathe's STS. It's okay. I like it better than P90X, but I couldn't put my finger on it, it just didn't seem right. Then I got out my two books on the topic and started reading. New Rules of Lifting for Women and Body for Life. I really like how each program pyramids, you do 12 reps with light, then go up and do 10 reps, then go up and do 8 reps, then up and do 6 reps and then you do it all in reverse. So one night instead of doing my Cathe, I did the Body for Life upper body and wow oh wow, did I have doms and I swear I have more definition. So I think I'll continue to tweak and change the way I'm doing strength. I want to build muscle.
And on a final note, tonight I was cleaning our bedroom and I unearthed my diary I got for my 14th birthday. Since my son is that age now, I got it out and started reading. What an eye opener. Things I had forgotten. Being called a bitch to my face by my sister and my mother. I had completely suppressed that. After reading, I remembered it -- plus worse. I read and read, but I didn't cry--it was as if this great compassion and understanding overwhelmed me. I've always felt -- well, not insecure, but as if I wasn't good enough, as if I had to prove myself, and that I always had to be perfect. Reading the diary tonight made me understand why. I plan on reading more as time goes on. I wrote in this into my 20s. Lots of calorie-free food for thought.
I found it very interesting that every entry I signed, "I love me, Jo." What 14 year old does that? Many of the entries were searching for love. I find it very strange because as an adult, my mom and I were very close. Lots more thinking for me. I also found it interesting that I had issues with my sister at age 14--many, and not typical sister issues. I read some things that made the hair on my neck stand up.
It's interesting how things appear when you need them--or perhaps when you're ready to deal with them. The older I get, the smarter I get and am able to see 2 + 2 and get it to total 4. It's time to do some math. I have a feeling digging deep may help me tremendously on my journey. Perhaps it will stir that inner fire that is now just a glowing ember and get it flaming again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)