If we can call it that. I haven’t exactly stuck to my exercise schedule I so carefully planned out. And by “haven’t exactly,” I mean not at all. However, I have done something else, something that means surprisingly more to me: I’ve cut my portions back to more normal sizes. I haven’t been denying myself, like I typically do with diets; if I want a brownie, I make brownies, but I cut the pan into 16 pieces (which is what the box labels as servings) and freeze 3/4 of the pan, taking out 1/4 at a time. And I’ve exercised a few times, but it’s been because I wanted to, not because I felt I had to. And, surprisingly, I think I’ve lost some weight. I’m not going to get on the scale for a while yet, but if I had to guess, I’d say about 10 pounds, give or take. And you know what’s funny? I’ve noticed more of a difference in my body with those 10 pounds than with the 40 I lost before. I know logically that there was more of a difference with the 40, but I never saw it. This, this I’m seeing. I’m hoping that means that whatever switch needed to flip in my head is in the process of flipping, that maybe I am finally on the path I need to get healthy.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
So today was my weigh in and measurement day. I have eight weeks of workouts planned out, but I might go in and alter them. As it stands right now: I’m doing C25K Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; some kind of strength training on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays; and either yoga or Pilates on Saturdays. However, I’ve been having a lot of problems with my legs the last few days. I don’t know if it’s the shoes I’m wearing or what, but by the end of my shift in the mornings, I’m all but limping. My legs are so sore, from my ankles, to my calves, to the backs of my thighs. I’ve even had a hard time getting up the stairs to my apartment the last couple of days. I still want to do the C25K, but I’m thinking I might need a day of recovery afterwards until I figure out what’s doing here. So strength training might be swapped with yoga, or just nothing at all, for a week or two. I need to start learning that it isn’t all or nothing. I think that’s where I’ve gone wrong in the past a lot: I come up with this detailed, elaborate plan of attack, and if one little part of it goes wrong, I get discouraged and just give up entirely. We’ll see.
Anywho, starting weight and measurements. I’m going to stay away from both for another eight weeks, since that’s another thing that’s gotten me down in the past: it’s so wonderful when the numbers move down quickly, but when they don’t budge, or creep at a snail’s pace, it’s discouraging. So, here’s where we’re starting things this time (hopefully the last time) around:
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
I’m thinking I’m back on the wagon…I hope. Four days off, but I haven’t purged since Monday. Binging is another matter, but that’s been an issue of mine for years. I’m going to talk about the whole thing with my therapist tomorrow, see if we can’t start working this thing out, so I don’t end up in this situation again.
On the upside, I planned out a 16 week exercise schedule to start after finals. I’m going to get back with the Couch to 5k app, see if I can’t get running for half an hour by next semester. I’m also working in some strength training and yoga/Pilates on my days off. Maybe, hopefully, this time it’ll stick. I am so tired of not being able to look in the mirror, of hating what I see there each time my eyes do slip.
However, as I write this, I keep thinking about this article I read today. It was all about how once a person is fat, they can’t lose the weight and keep it off. It’s something like you’re 25 times more likely to survive a gunshot wound to the head as to keep a significant amount of weight off. Not very encouraging.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
It’s been almost exactly two years since I last blogged. A lot has happened in that time. I started working full-time overnight, I’ve moved again, gotten divorced, and started back at school again. Full-time work, full-time school, doesn’t really leave time for exercise, not that I’ve been doing much of that anyway. Pair that with in my previous apartment I couldn’t really keep food in the fridge and had to eat out a lot (and on my budget, that meant fast food), and I guess it’s not surprising that my weight is back up there again.
But I think it’s more than just that. I mean, I’m back to eating crap and doing nothing. I’m in therapy, but instead of dealing with all of my feelings there, I’m back to eating them. This week is a wonderful example. I’ve been seeing this guy. This week was a week of huge drama, and I broke up with him. So now I have my guilt and worries that maybe I didn’t do the right thing weighing on me, and I’ve been dealing with that in the McDonald’s drive-thru. Plus I have buy-one-get-one coupons. The other day I used one and bought two of the chicken McWraps. 430 calories each. I ate both. I also ate four ice cream bars (180 each). 1580 calories in one binge, that’s more than my daily limit. Anyway, a few hours later I woke up with the mother of all stomach aches. And so what did I do? I broke 8 and a half years of recovery and went into the bathroom and purged. I live alone now, no one would hear me. And my first feeling was one of relief: now at least some of those calories weren’t going to my ass. Yesterday I went back to the drive-thru three times because they were so busy. I don’t know why I didn’t just quit after seeing the line the first time. Anyway, yesterday was another McWrap (430), a Big Mac (550), a large fry (500), a large Sprite (280), and a little over a third of a package of Oreos (980) and a glass of milk (95). 2835 calories. Most of it went down the toilet.
I just…I’m so ashamed of myself. First off, there’s no damn reason for me to be eating all that food. I’m on a budget, it’s a waste of money. So to be going through all that, then to only throw it back up is just bullshit. But also, it’s been so long, I’ve been in recovery for so long, and I go and blow it like this. And the thing, it’s more appealing now than when I was a kid. When I was a kid, I was just doing it because I wanted to go from 130 to 115. Now it’s more about control. I lose control by eating all this crap. But by bringing it back up, I’m taking control back. At least that’s what it feels like. If I’m logical, I realize it’s all a lack of control.
I’m just so tired of feeling this way. I hate my body, and right now I’m not very fond of myself for falling off the wagon like this. I’m depressed and cranky, and on top of everything, now my throat hurts from all the vomiting. I need to kick my own ass back into gear. And I know I shouldn’t put it off, but I keep thinking…finals are next week, I can deal with this after that. We’ll see how that goes.