This week, I have covered my arm in Tiger Balm because of a muscle injury.
Did I injure myself lifting more weights? Doing yoga? Saving kittens from a tree? Something awesome?
No. I did not.
Fucking. Bowling.
I twisted my elbow bowling.
Now I'm getting shooting pains in my elbow. I can't support myself, so no weight lifting, no yoga, no frisbee or catch...my arm being immobile effectively nixed all of my favorite sports activities this week, and I have rarely been more frustrated with my body.
The upshot is that, while I haven't worked out much, my diet has sped along this week. Pesach forced me to cut out cookies, white bread, soda, etc, so I've eaten my weight in veggies. My cupcake cravings haven't subsided, but they're MUCH more manageable then they were at the beginning of the week, when I was headachy and grouchy.
I was surprised that I had such a visceral reaction to my lack of sweet stuff. I didn't think I was that sugar dependent. I went through a withdrawal period of a few days though, snapping and feeling ill, and being miserable. I'm torn between allowing myself a post Pesach celebratory cookie...and continuing to stay off the stuff. Because I'm still not sure I can stop at just one. I am still the girl who once ate an entire box of Thin Mints.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Right here and now, Jacky!
I had a fitnissy week (yes, I know it's not a word, just go with it), and it's inspired me to updates. Also, the only things that aren't sore today are my hands, so I might as well put them to work.
Wednesday, I went bowling...which I didn't think was giving me much of a workout, until I woke up with forearm pain - I DID do it for three hours straight...and I wasn't scarfing down bad bowling alley pizza.
Here's a question. If someone bowling next to you orders pizza, and leaves half of it on the table when the leave the lanes...is it totally gross to want to take it and eat it? I was watching. They didn't spit in it or anything. That pizza was perfectly good!! I'm sure W wouldn't have appreciated my pizza pilfering though, so I left it.
Thursday, yesterday, I went to the gym. W has been on me about getting back into weight lifting (I PICK THINGS UP AND PUT THEM DOWN!), and so I did a 5xx5 shoulder press at 55lbs, a 1x5 deadlift at 95, and worked on my squat form. I used the rowing machine to warm up. The rowing machine - is that hell on a track, or what? I was on that damned thing for ten minutes, and I thought I was going to die. Although I did stare at my legs for ten minutes, and that was nice, in a completely conceited way. Parts of me are quite tubby, but I've got great legs.
Anyway, after the gym, we picked up T and headed to Soldier's Delight for a 2.5 hike. If you've never hiked SD before, you should. The Serpentine trail is great, full of hills, and scenic. I like to imagine that I'm walking across America. I start in the tree heavy south east, near the mountains. I move downward, onto the prairie, toward the plains, and end up back again in Northern California.
Full disclosure here. What I really do is pretend I'm Jack Sawyer, walking across America, going to retrieve the Talisman. I'll give you a minute to google that.
I was so exhausted by my "day of health", that I skipped yoga, but I DID go this morning. Lots of stretching sore muscles. An ex-boyfriend told me once that if you continue to use your muscles while they're hurting, they'll hurt less. I did not find this to be entirely inaccurate, actually. I was pleasantly surprised. I thought that was a load of crap, but apparently not.
I'm down seven lbs since the last time I posted, which was a few months ago. That's not SO bad, but I could have done better. On the weeks when I lose, I stand on the scale and think "I CANNOT keep up with this level of activity". I do, though. I'm outside a lot more, and I'm starting to feel the benefits. I can run up a hill without panting. I can play frisbee for an hour without wishing for death. When my muscles hurt, I think "Man, I didn't know I had muscles there! I wonder what they're called! That's neat!" (and then I take an aspirin).
I could get used to this. I mean, I'd better get used to this, but...it's starting to not be so hard.
K
PS - If you have five minutes, please read this blog post. Even if you don't read mine, read this one. It's important.
Wednesday, I went bowling...which I didn't think was giving me much of a workout, until I woke up with forearm pain - I DID do it for three hours straight...and I wasn't scarfing down bad bowling alley pizza.
Here's a question. If someone bowling next to you orders pizza, and leaves half of it on the table when the leave the lanes...is it totally gross to want to take it and eat it? I was watching. They didn't spit in it or anything. That pizza was perfectly good!! I'm sure W wouldn't have appreciated my pizza pilfering though, so I left it.
Thursday, yesterday, I went to the gym. W has been on me about getting back into weight lifting (I PICK THINGS UP AND PUT THEM DOWN!), and so I did a 5xx5 shoulder press at 55lbs, a 1x5 deadlift at 95, and worked on my squat form. I used the rowing machine to warm up. The rowing machine - is that hell on a track, or what? I was on that damned thing for ten minutes, and I thought I was going to die. Although I did stare at my legs for ten minutes, and that was nice, in a completely conceited way. Parts of me are quite tubby, but I've got great legs.
Anyway, after the gym, we picked up T and headed to Soldier's Delight for a 2.5 hike. If you've never hiked SD before, you should. The Serpentine trail is great, full of hills, and scenic. I like to imagine that I'm walking across America. I start in the tree heavy south east, near the mountains. I move downward, onto the prairie, toward the plains, and end up back again in Northern California.
Full disclosure here. What I really do is pretend I'm Jack Sawyer, walking across America, going to retrieve the Talisman. I'll give you a minute to google that.
I was so exhausted by my "day of health", that I skipped yoga, but I DID go this morning. Lots of stretching sore muscles. An ex-boyfriend told me once that if you continue to use your muscles while they're hurting, they'll hurt less. I did not find this to be entirely inaccurate, actually. I was pleasantly surprised. I thought that was a load of crap, but apparently not.
I'm down seven lbs since the last time I posted, which was a few months ago. That's not SO bad, but I could have done better. On the weeks when I lose, I stand on the scale and think "I CANNOT keep up with this level of activity". I do, though. I'm outside a lot more, and I'm starting to feel the benefits. I can run up a hill without panting. I can play frisbee for an hour without wishing for death. When my muscles hurt, I think "Man, I didn't know I had muscles there! I wonder what they're called! That's neat!" (and then I take an aspirin).
I could get used to this. I mean, I'd better get used to this, but...it's starting to not be so hard.
K
PS - If you have five minutes, please read this blog post. Even if you don't read mine, read this one. It's important.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Verily, I have a new reader
It works, D!
Also, I should update.
I'm down five lbs since the new year!! And, although my cravings for chicken breast (of all things, don't as me why) have not subsided, my overall meatlessness is still working for me.
I'm starting the couch25k (again) tomorrow, and am about to do Day 2 of the 100 push up challenge. Oh, the things I get talked into.
Happy New Year!
Also, I should update.
I'm down five lbs since the new year!! And, although my cravings for chicken breast (of all things, don't as me why) have not subsided, my overall meatlessness is still working for me.
I'm starting the couch25k (again) tomorrow, and am about to do Day 2 of the 100 push up challenge. Oh, the things I get talked into.
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Vegewhatnow?
I'm never going to be the scotch drinking, leather jacket wearing, Shelley quoting, clove smoking badass that I always thought I'd become.
I see that now.
It's sad, this parting of ways between who I've become, and who I always thought I'd kick my own ass into being.
Instead, I'm a teetotaling, yoga doing, non-smoking vegetarian.
Who can quote Shelley on a good day.
And I'm fine with that, I guess. I mean, I'm pretty thrilled with myself and all...
But, still.
What the fuck?
I see that now.
It's sad, this parting of ways between who I've become, and who I always thought I'd kick my own ass into being.
Instead, I'm a teetotaling, yoga doing, non-smoking vegetarian.
Who can quote Shelley on a good day.
And I'm fine with that, I guess. I mean, I'm pretty thrilled with myself and all...
But, still.
What the fuck?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Okay, That's a lie.
When I said that there was nothing new to report, and then made a lame joke about yoga. that was a lie.
It's not that there haven't been things to report. It's just that the reports aren't great. Ever since September, I've been stuck in this weepy and lazy rut. One day, I'll write a post that doesn't mention my grandmother. But I cannot express how much her passing knocked me down. Knocked all my family down. And we've never been the "bond together against sadness" type.
What I should remember is that there have been good things. The 5k was good for my family. I saw a naked man in the park (it wasn't good, but it's a great story...and his running shoes were enviable). Friends had babies. Not that I've seen them, I'm a bit of a recluse, and shy around babies, but still - new life exists. One of my dearest friends got married. Another had dinner with me last week, and sounded more sure of himself then I've seen in a while. I'm preparing my first Thanksgiving meal this year, and I'm writing again, too.
There are GOOD things here. Solid things, foundational things.
Patanjali said "“Peace can be reached through meditation on the knowledge which dreams give. Peace can also be reached through concentration upon that which is dearest to the heart.”
Now, I'm not much for meditation, I'm too fidgety. But the last two months have given me a clear picture of what is dearest to my heart. I think that in these next two months, I'll work on concentrating. Even if it doesn't work out, it'll be more productive than Portal.
It's not that there haven't been things to report. It's just that the reports aren't great. Ever since September, I've been stuck in this weepy and lazy rut. One day, I'll write a post that doesn't mention my grandmother. But I cannot express how much her passing knocked me down. Knocked all my family down. And we've never been the "bond together against sadness" type.
What I should remember is that there have been good things. The 5k was good for my family. I saw a naked man in the park (it wasn't good, but it's a great story...and his running shoes were enviable). Friends had babies. Not that I've seen them, I'm a bit of a recluse, and shy around babies, but still - new life exists. One of my dearest friends got married. Another had dinner with me last week, and sounded more sure of himself then I've seen in a while. I'm preparing my first Thanksgiving meal this year, and I'm writing again, too.
There are GOOD things here. Solid things, foundational things.
Patanjali said "“Peace can be reached through meditation on the knowledge which dreams give. Peace can also be reached through concentration upon that which is dearest to the heart.”
Now, I'm not much for meditation, I'm too fidgety. But the last two months have given me a clear picture of what is dearest to my heart. I think that in these next two months, I'll work on concentrating. Even if it doesn't work out, it'll be more productive than Portal.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Namaste, hon
Nothing much to report. Race went fine, foot is still on the mend. taken up yoga.
I actually freaking love it, but...trendy hobbies are expensive. I can't wait til curling comes into vogue and then prices at the studio drop.
Although I've always wanted to try curling too, so I guess I'll be bummed about that when it happens.
I keep hearing my grandmother's voice in my head during my classes, poking fun at me. It's hard to hear, because I still miss her, but in my head, she's still funny.
So that's a plus.
I actually freaking love it, but...trendy hobbies are expensive. I can't wait til curling comes into vogue and then prices at the studio drop.
Although I've always wanted to try curling too, so I guess I'll be bummed about that when it happens.
I keep hearing my grandmother's voice in my head during my classes, poking fun at me. It's hard to hear, because I still miss her, but in my head, she's still funny.
So that's a plus.
Friday, September 30, 2011
How I'm going to break my hand at the end of the month.
This blog exists for someone who never even read it. I love my grandmother, but watching her try to navigate the internet was laughable. Our computer time was filled with such gems as "Can you write me step by step instructions on how to work my Ipod?" "But I don't want to download Itunes". "Do you play Farkle?" "Will this give me a virus?" "Will this give me a virus?" "Will THIS give me a virus?". Truthfully, I never showed it to her because I didn't want to have a ten minute conversation on what a blog was, why I have one, and how it won't give my computer a virus. And also, if she read it, I'd have to tone down my use of the word fuck.
But all of the losing weight I'm doing, it was for her. She was diagnosed with cancer in June, had some operations, got some things taken out of her, went through chemo, lost her hair, lost her immune system, got an infection of some sort, and died two weeks ago.
I'll be honest here, I didn't take her cancer seriously enough. We were getting excellent feedback from the doctors, we were reading all about breast cancer, and her prognosis was great. Breast cancer has such a high survival rate. We all figured that she'd get over it, we'd rejoice, and life would go back to being pretty normal. And I guess all that crap about breast cancer being so beatable I can't really find fault with that either. It wasn't the cancer that killed, her, it was the fucking (sorry MM) chemotherapy. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to pull down all of those fucking "pink ribbon for cancer awareness" displays from the shelves every time I see them. And I do fucking see them. It's breast cancer month, didn't you know? They're fucking everywhere.
If I sound angry, it's because I am. I've graduated to the next step in the grief cycle, I guess, because i walk around all day, livid. I'm mad at myself for not being as good a granddaughter as I could be, for not getting married and having kids so she could see them, for not being more involved in her treatment. It scared me, seeing her go through that. And I took the pussy way out and didn't see her as often because I really believed that she would get better. I'm mad at her doctors for not treating her any other way, and I'm mad at her for getting sick. I had a five minute yelling match (one sided) with her in my head yesterday, I was so angry that she's gone. And then I spent the rest of the day feeling guilty.
You know what's not comforting me? People saying things like "She's looking down on you", "She'll watch over you". I would personally like to think that if there is a Heaven, she's got better things to do than watch me. I don't want my grandmother to be a ghost, or someone who can't move on. If there's anywhere else to go from here, I hope she's kicking up her heels and doing whatever the hell she wants. And why would she want to watch me when she's got crosswords and hottubs, and every dog we've ever had that's passed away, and no diabetes, and no cancer. I just can't hear that any more, I'm sorry.
I went to the gym the other day...this IS a weight loss blog after all...and I got through my workout, after which I burst into tears. No, that's not even true. My favorite bike was being cleaned and I couldn't use it, and THEN I burst into tears. And again, after. Because I'm turning my whole life around and she'll never know. She and I were so bad about losing weight together. We went to Weight Watchers once, and got milkshakes after. Apparently that's pretty common. We'd walk the track on Sunday mornings and get breakfast after that, too. And then we'd wonder why the scale was moving in the opposite direction. We had a great time, though, we really did.
My family is doing this walk for cancer at the end of the month. I'll break my hand if I don't get over my desire to punch people in pink. And I don't think I will get over it by then. I don't think losing something you get over, it's just something you adapt to. And that fucking sucks.
Fuck.
Sorry, Mom Mom.
But all of the losing weight I'm doing, it was for her. She was diagnosed with cancer in June, had some operations, got some things taken out of her, went through chemo, lost her hair, lost her immune system, got an infection of some sort, and died two weeks ago.
I'll be honest here, I didn't take her cancer seriously enough. We were getting excellent feedback from the doctors, we were reading all about breast cancer, and her prognosis was great. Breast cancer has such a high survival rate. We all figured that she'd get over it, we'd rejoice, and life would go back to being pretty normal. And I guess all that crap about breast cancer being so beatable I can't really find fault with that either. It wasn't the cancer that killed, her, it was the fucking (sorry MM) chemotherapy. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to pull down all of those fucking "pink ribbon for cancer awareness" displays from the shelves every time I see them. And I do fucking see them. It's breast cancer month, didn't you know? They're fucking everywhere.
If I sound angry, it's because I am. I've graduated to the next step in the grief cycle, I guess, because i walk around all day, livid. I'm mad at myself for not being as good a granddaughter as I could be, for not getting married and having kids so she could see them, for not being more involved in her treatment. It scared me, seeing her go through that. And I took the pussy way out and didn't see her as often because I really believed that she would get better. I'm mad at her doctors for not treating her any other way, and I'm mad at her for getting sick. I had a five minute yelling match (one sided) with her in my head yesterday, I was so angry that she's gone. And then I spent the rest of the day feeling guilty.
You know what's not comforting me? People saying things like "She's looking down on you", "She'll watch over you". I would personally like to think that if there is a Heaven, she's got better things to do than watch me. I don't want my grandmother to be a ghost, or someone who can't move on. If there's anywhere else to go from here, I hope she's kicking up her heels and doing whatever the hell she wants. And why would she want to watch me when she's got crosswords and hottubs, and every dog we've ever had that's passed away, and no diabetes, and no cancer. I just can't hear that any more, I'm sorry.
I went to the gym the other day...this IS a weight loss blog after all...and I got through my workout, after which I burst into tears. No, that's not even true. My favorite bike was being cleaned and I couldn't use it, and THEN I burst into tears. And again, after. Because I'm turning my whole life around and she'll never know. She and I were so bad about losing weight together. We went to Weight Watchers once, and got milkshakes after. Apparently that's pretty common. We'd walk the track on Sunday mornings and get breakfast after that, too. And then we'd wonder why the scale was moving in the opposite direction. We had a great time, though, we really did.
My family is doing this walk for cancer at the end of the month. I'll break my hand if I don't get over my desire to punch people in pink. And I don't think I will get over it by then. I don't think losing something you get over, it's just something you adapt to. And that fucking sucks.
Fuck.
Sorry, Mom Mom.
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