Getting out of my own head

As a rule, for most things in my life, if I have set out to do something, I have succeeded. It hasn’t always been easy, but I try my best not to give up.

For the last 3+ months I have been eating right and seriously working my ass off at the gym. I was definitely seeing success (building muscle, feeling better, losing inches, etc). But I just wasn’t seeing the results I was hoping for on the scale.

One week I would lose 3 pounds, the next I would gain 2, lose .2, gain 1. The scale was trending down — slowly — in the right direction, but not as quickly as I thought it should be for as hard as I was working.

I got discouraged. Really discouraged.

For about two weeks I hated every second of meal prepping, eating the right meals, working out, and don’t even get me started on the extra cardio.

I was a completely miserable person, but Friday evenings leading up to weigh ins on Saturday mornings were the worst. I would make sure not to eat after 7, and attempt to get lots of sleep. No matter how early I went to bed, I would lie awake worrying about what would happen when I stepped on that scale the following day.

Would all this work I have been doing for the last week be for nothing?

People did their best to cheer me up. They reminded me that I was getting healthier, stronger, that muscle weighs more than fat, etc.

This last Saturday I stepped on the scale and was up two pounds for the second week in a row. I just broke. I found myself in tears yet again. How can I be doing all this work for the scale to be going in the opposite direction. It just wasn’t fair.

My trainer, being far more understanding with yet another round of tears than is fair to ask of him, reassured me that he was going to help me figure out what is going on. I couldn’t quit. I had to just keep pushing forward and eventually something was going to give.

We would be approaching things a little differently going forward. From now on I would be weighing in on my own scale every day and sending him the number. From there he would tweak my daily meal plan based on the scale that day.

I was ready for pretty much anything.

Every day this week (and it is only Wednesday) I have been working out 1-3 times a day, eating right, and stepping on that scale. Sure enough, every day the number has been going down, and much faster than I could have expected.

After talking to my trainer this afternoon after deadlifting class, he told me that he think I put so much pressure on myself to lose, I stressed my body out to the point that it just wasn’t happening.

Then, when the scale didn’t move in the right direction, I would be miserable. I struggled through workouts and hated my meals. I would spend the following week feeling let down, and worrying that I was letting my trainer down. That would stress me out more and then the scale wouldn’t move again.

It made complete sense.

Now that I have daily  weigh-ins, I feel like I am in a much better spot mentally. I am enjoying going to classes again, I wouldn’t say I enjoy my extra cardio, but I don’t dread it all day, and I am in a much better mood.

I am now looking forward to weighing in on Saturday. It certainly isn’t out of the question to think that I will have a 5+ pound loss this week. If that doesn’t help me get in the right frame of mind, I don’t know what will.

 

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Another 5K in the books

Yesterday, my husband and I both finished the local YMCA’s St. Patrick’s Day 5K Run/Walk. He did the run and I did the walk.

I have done other 5Ks in the past, but this one was a little bit different for me.

A couple months ago I told my trainer I intended on working on the couch to 5K (again) and trying to run this one instead of doing my normal 90 minute workout with him. He told me that I would be better off doing the workout because I would burn calories for longer after the workout was over than if I ran.

So I decided to do the workout.

When I heard my sister in law and husband both intended to do the run, I decided I would register, and if I was feeling good enough after the workout, I would do the walk.

I wasn’t feeling so great after the difficult workout, but I decided to suck it up and do the walk anyway.

It was extremely hard. I regretted doing it before I even took the first time. I also regretted wearing my brand new running shoes.

As I winded my way through town, I had to talk myself out of stopping at friends houses along the route and begging them to drive me back to my car.

I was tired, sore from the workout, my feet hurt, and I was getting shin splints with every step. Around the 2 mile walk I texted my husband, who i was confident had already finished his run.

Me: My back hurts so bad.

Him: Walk

Me: That’s all I have done

Him: U got it. Where are you?

About 5 minutes later I see him walking up the street toward me. Honestly, I was fighting back tears. Now I knew there was no way I wasn’t going to finish. He wouldn’t let me.

He walked the rest of the way with me, and made me jog the last 1/10 of a mile or so.

To say I was dusted at the end is quite the understatement.

It was far from my best 5K time ever, but with the exception of my first ever race, it was the one I am most proud of for finishing.

I am also INCREDIBLY proud of my husband and sister in law for each finishing in under 28 minutes.

Living a healthy lifestyle isn’t always easy, but it is so much better when you have company!

An inspiration? Who… ME???

I always find it strange when people say I am inspiring them to live a healthier lifestyle. After all, who on earth would want to follow in my footsteps? I’m a 30-something woman with over 100 pounds to lose.

Might as well put me on one of those motivational posters!

Oddly enough, I have been getting that more and more lately. I find myself at the beginning, again, and again, and again, of what is going to be a very long (lifelong) journey for me. For me to be an inspiration to others comes with some amount of pressure.

I want to be one of those people who, two years and 100 pounds down the road, can look at someone starting their journey and say “If I can do it, YOU can do it.”

But frankly, I am still worried I will never get to that point. Part of me knows if I stick to it long enough and don’t give up, I will succeed. But there is always that nagging part of me that knows I have failed each and every time up to this point. Maybe I am only kidding myself that this time will be any different.

Today I had to leave one of my workout classes because my back just wasn’t holding up. It was hurting and threatening to go out on me. I wanted to push through the pain and finish the 30 minute workout, but my trainer sent me home.

Part of me is very disappointed in myself that I quit. The other part of me is glad I left. In the past I probably would have pushed through and potentially hurt myself. All it is going to take to potentially majorly derail my progress is to have my back go out on me and be sidelined from the gym for two weeks. At this point, I can’t lose momentum, even if that means not finishing one workout.

I was feeling pretty down when I got home. Then I got a perfectly timed text from a friend saying she has been reading this blog, watching on Facebook, and following my journey. She let me know she joined a gym a week ago and has not skipped a day in nearly a week.

SO AWESOME!

I was thrilled and so proud of her.

In the last couple weeks, I have had a couple other people let me know that I have inspired them to change their own lives. They may not all be the biggest changes, but they are something. Whether it is passing on the office baked goods being passed around, parking at the back of the parking lot instead of the front, or drinking water instead of soda, little changes add up.

I wish it were as easy for me to recognize and take pride in the changes I have made in my own life as it is for me to recognize when others do the same.

I’ve been told I am my own worst critic… and aren’t we all? Something else for me to work on. For now, I am just going to keep on going.

Tomorrow’s another day, one with my favorite new class at the gym, but more about that another day.

Progress Photos

After a couple weeks of waiting, I got my photos from before and after the first shred back yesterday.

I wasn’t impressed.

In all honesty, I spent about three hours in tears — that not impressed.

Looking at the photos, it was hard for me to tell which was the before and which was the after. After some careful consideration, I could tell I had lost a few inches off my stomach, but that was about it.

I just keep telling myself that I didn’t put the weight on overnight, I can’t be expected to lose it over night.

For as hard as I have been working, I was hoping to see a little more of a dramatic difference. Hopefully the next set of photos is more noticeable.