It’s Time.

I’ve decided that it’s time to stop avoiding the inevitable.

I have been struggling with my weight for years now, trying one new scheme after another, with no real success. I’ve had little discoveries along the way, things that have helped the overall me, both physically and mentally. Over these years I’ve managed to quit smoking and more recently, drinking, which was honestly a bigger monkey on my back than the smoking ever was. I know I am capable of change.

If I allow myself to be reflective, I recall the time in my life when I was seeing a reproductive endocrinologist for help getting pregnant. He diagnosed me at that time with insulin resistance, a condition that had many negative effects. In the context of fertility, it was throwing my hormones all out of whack, but it also caused me to store excess fat.

My doc gave me an eating plan which I railed against. I hated it. I cried. It made me so mad. The world felt very unfair because not only was I barren, I couldn’t even comfort myself with French fries. I sucked it up and got with the program because I was paying this guy thousands of dollars and I really wanted a a baby.

It was not an easy transition, because I had to think about what I was eating. I had to plan. It seemed so daunting at the outset, but over time, it became easier. I was eating plenty of good food and still losing weight. I felt energized and healthy. Then I didn’t get pregnant.

I had that temporary amnesia that sometimes comes with weight loss. Where you feel good because you lost weight and lose sight of how you got there so you just pick all those old habits up and proceed down those well worn self destructive paths. it didn’t help that I was also pretty sad at the time.

Every time I have thought about how much I want to lose weight in the past year or so I have fleeting thoughts about going back to that old plan, but instead, I craft a new, untested strategy and fuck around with that for a few weeks instead.

I find that I have come to accept that there is no magic way for me to lose this weight where I can still just eat whatever the hell I want. The only way that plan works is if I can just be cool with staying this size, or getting bigger, and I’m not there. I don’t think I’ll ever be there.

I hate that I am this way. I hate that it matters to me. I hate that my brain has been so inundated with messages about how my body should be that I can’t shake them.

But here I am. It is what it is and I need to stop beating my head against this proverbial wall. I am wasting too much time and energy on this topic. There’s no room in my head to be truly creative because it’s all taken up with this bullshit.

So today I get with with program again. As is my way, I have chosen the worst possible time to do it, but I must strike while the iron is hot; while the spirit is moving in me.

I accept that I will stumble from time to time, because who doesn’t? But what I won’t do is set myself up to make easy excuses and justifications. I know how this works. I’ve done this before. It’s not impossible, but it is work, at least in the beginning.

The work isn’t about figuring out the food though, it’s about reminding myself that I’m worth the work. That making better choices isn’t about punishment. That food isn’t a reward, it’s just food and it’s doesn’t have to be friend or foe.

I am hopeful.

The Scale Got Me

I made the mistake of weighing myself this morning. Despite my experience with actual clothes last night, I think I hoped that was some kind of weird fluke and I had lost 10 pounds overnight and this would just be confirmation of that. Stupid, I know. I also know that I lost a pound, which I suppose is better than nothing.

I’ll take comfort in the fact that I’m not gaining, which I was actively doing while eating late at night, so I’ll take that as a win. I’m just going to stick to that for a while and maybe weigh myself again in another 2 months.

I could sit here and shake my fist at the heavens, like I did last night. Woe is me that I just can’t lose weight no matter how hard I try. But The truth is I’m not actually trying very hard. I just want my small adjustments to yield dramatic results and that’s not how this shit works.

So I’ll keep on keeping on and maybe try to incorporate another small change. Not sure what that will be, but it will probably involve eating less ice cream. That’s not exactly deprivation.

Today is a new day and all I can do is be who I am in the body I am currently in and try to just be cool with it.

Packing Can Suck It.

Well, packing was a nightmare. I’m glad I waited. This way, there were less hours in my day to ruin.

It’s a good thing that I decided to check a bag because I packed eight whole outfits even though I really only need three. It was necessary since I didn’t really feel good in anything I put on. I’m gonna need options.

I got a badge from my fasting app this morning. It told me I had a 50 day streak. Fifty days is a lot for me to do anything. Over this period I have decided that this method of eating has benefits and I was hopeful that weight loss would be one, but it’s not looking like that is the case. Or maybe it is and it’s just really, really, REALLY slow.

I’m just feeling sorry for myself right now. It didn’t help that I tried on clothes with my hair all messed up, makeup worn off and at the absolute most bloated I ever am, late in the evening after a big ass bowl of spaghetti.

I’m think I’m extra stressed about it because on Wednesday I am on a panel and have an interview, both of which will be taped, so there is pressure not to look like shit and pretend that I am super confident, which I kind of was before I started packing.

For what it’s worth, I’m glad it happened this way and not earlier because I totally would have gone and gotten other clothes, but shopping depresses me even more than packing.

I’m going to shut down the pity party for this evening and go concentrate on being grateful for stuff, since what I am complaining about here is completely ridiculous.

I Don’t Feel Like Packing

I have so much to do but I am actively procrastinating by writing this instead.

To be fair, I haven’t written anything in a few days so technically blogging should have been on my to-do list anyway. Yes. We’ll go with that.

I leave for Dallas tomorrow. I haven’t packed yet. I have given myself no wiggle room to fix the problem if my clothes don’t fit. My car is being serviced until this evening and I leave tomorrow morning, so no shopping for me. Part of this is by design. I’m trying to stick to a budget and I do not have anything set aside for clothes. Historically I’ve just gone out and bought new stuff instead of facing the old stuff. Today, me and my closet are just going to have to get along… eventually. For now I’m just going to write about it.

I’m not sure if I will write while I’m on the road. I’m not a fan of writing on my phone or tablet, but I suppose I can suck it up for the sake of consistency. I kind of hope I’m just too busy with work to worry about it, but time will tell.

I painted my own toenails in advance of the conference, also a nod to my budget. Pedicures are expensive. They don’t look too bad from a distance and I don’t think anyone is planning to closely investigate my feet, so I should be ok. The kind of bitches that would judge my feet are going to judge something anyway, so fuck it. I can’t win with them so I don’t care.

I don’t have anything interesting to say. Maybe after my visit to the closet I will. I have a conference call for the next hour and a half, then it’s on like Donkey Kong.

Sneaky Scale and Starting Over

That scale tried to get me again this morning. I was feeling myself and thought surely that if I weighed myself that I would like what I saw there, so what’s the harm? I could get an updated number, which I could then put into all my various and sundry “health” tracking apps. I pulled myself back. Thankfully.

At this point I really do believe that the number on the scale is smaller. What I am still working on is why I still give any thought to what the number is. I’m getting better at it, but it is still a struggle.

On an unrelated note, I made some headway on my fiction work last week, but walked away from it after a few days.

I felt like it started out strong, but then as I went along it got wordy and boring and convoluted and I found that I wasn’t enjoying writing it and it wasn’t something that I would be proud to share. I didn’t delete the whole thing and I haven’t given up on the idea, but I’ve got work to do.

I’m so accustomed to writing in the first person that it’s just how I start any fiction writing as well. It’s a reflex and I think it’s part of why I have struggled.

The story I’m currently trying to tell is a perfect example. There are things that my character is just supposed to know, but the reader would be challenged to understand how she would know these things. In an effort to justify her knowledge, the character embarks on this lengthy backstory which ends up just being too much and still doesn’t entirely satisfy my need for an explanation.

I realized that the easy fix for this is to switch to third person. I say easy because it would make the storytelling piece smoother (theoretically), but I’m afraid of it because it’s not what I’m used to and I don’t want it to feel forced. I still have this insane fantasy of sitting down and having a story pour forth from me, and I worry that writing from this unfamiliar perspective could hinder that. However, writing in first person has been a proven hindrance, so I suppose I have nothing to lose.

I’m just going to start over and see how it goes.

Ah, Nature

Since I just wrote about how green everything is and how much life there is running around, I figured I’d do a post with some recent pics of the flora & fauna around our house. I can’t take credit for the pics, those are courtesy of Emmitt. Thanks honey!!

Most of these are self explanatory, but the one of the bat has a little back story.

Yesterday while we were exercising in the driveway there was a tree service removing a large palm tree across the street. We also have a very tall palm that needed trimming so we decided to ask if they could manage that for us. The tree had grown so very tall that it was dangerous to trim without a bucket truck. In years past, we paid some rando kids or fly by night operation to shimmy up the tree with boot spikes and a chainsaw, but even those cowboys would balk at the tree these days. Also, I didn’t want to have to deal with any liability claims when my luck, and theirs, ran out and the inevitable fall occurred.

We chatted with them about trimming the tree and they said, sure, they could do it, but also mentioned that the tree was too damned tall for this residential neighborhood and if it was anything like the others that they had just brought down, there would be some rot, making the tree extra dangerous.

Emmitt didn’t want to chop the tree down and I wasn’t super motivated to do it either, but I like to listen to the messages the universe sends and what I was hearing was, “there is a hurricane coming and this tree is going to fall on your house.” Ultimately, Emmitt agreed that it was probably prudent. He cried a little, then literally hugged and thanked the tree. We love nature around here.

Those tree guys don’t give you any time to change your mind. I looked at the tree, turned my back, heard (and felt) and very loud thud, turned around again and that tree was down. Mere moments later, the tree was chopped up and huge chunks of it were being loaded into the truck.

Emmitt was in the street and yelled at me to get a box. I had so many questions, but I knew there would be time for that later. Right now, it was box time. I grabbed the closest one I could find and ran out to the street where Emmitt had a tiny bat tangled up in his shirt which was positively saturated with his sweat. There was some confusion then because I thought we were just going to run into the back yard and release the little guy but Emmitt wanted him in the box and there was the matter of the wet shirt suffocating him. So much drama. We got it sorted out eventually.

Little Bruce Wayne was minding his business, napping in the tree when we came & fucked his day all up. We weren’t sure if he was hurt so Emmitt put him in the box his bees came in so he could rest a while. If he was ok, we would release him in the evening when he awoke.

He was such a cute little thing and I wanted to pet him SO BADLY but Emmitt kept going on and on about diseases and parasites and ruined my fun.

Ultimately, he ended up being ok and emerged from his temporary lodging at dusk, fell like a brick and then flew off to eat bugs. There was a whole trail cam video, but since I don’t think you can put a video here and I’m too lazy to jack around with YouTube, you’re gonna get a screen grab.

Enjoy!!

Lil’ Bruce Wayne, making his escape.

A sweat bee on a flower I can’t remember the name of

A skink that Emmitt named Booger that lives in our garage. Emmitt feeds him bugs.

One kind of woodpecker, selecting the best peanut

Another kind of woodpecker. Contemplating his life choices

A hummingbird, napping

Grasshopper on hibiscus bud

bumblebee in another flower I don’t know the name of

Our beehive

BONUS CONTENT – Charles Murphy in my dryer

The Pressure of Pants

I should be exercising right now but there’s a hurricane pestering my state and bringing rain. It’s been raining consistently for weeks now, so we didn’t really need anymore rain, but it is what it is. Everything is beautifully green, which is one of the things I love about living in Florida. It’s so alive.

I thought about driving up to the Planet Fitness considering it’s my inclement weather back up, but the thought of going into that charmless, energy void just didn’t appeal to me. I have two flexibility sessions I’m supposed to do today so I’ll just focus on that. My knees can use the break.

I looked at my fasting app recently and realized that I’ve been doing the circadian rhythm thing for a whole month. Consistency is not my strong suit so this is a win. It’s been easy and I’ve incorporated it into my life and now it’s pretty effortless. I feel good, my sleep is excellent. I feel healthy and my energy is better. I’m glad to have found something that is working for me.

I still haven’t weighed myself and still have no plans to. I do have a more concrete test coming up though and that is in the form of work pants.

I am getting on a plane for the first time since the pandemic shut everything down and heading to Dallas next week. I am apprehensive about the travel piece, but that’s not new. I was never a fan of that. I am thrilled at the prospect of a little bit of alone time. I have not gone into my closet to start packing yet because I feel good and I fear that if I try to slip on some pants that I think should fit and they don’t, it will be as bad as weighing myself. Obviously at some point I’ll have to put some pants on. I just need a little more time to get my mind right.

I hate that I am even stressing about this nonsense. It’s such a colossal waste of time in the grand scheme of things, but here I am. I’d love to be all body positive and not give a shit, but I’m not there yet. It’s coming though. I can feel it… coming in the air tonight… insert aggressive drum solo…

Sorry about that last part. It was funny in my head. If you get it, you might think it’s funny too.

I Guess I Should Stretch

It’s Tuesday already but I feel like I’m just starting my week since I had yesterday off.

Friday’s workout was pretty great, as was Wednesday’s, if I do say so myself. I’m getting better at building them and when they are over, I feel like I really challenged myself. I tested my heavy metal theory on Friday and can report that not ALL music in this category is as effective. Since I don’t know the names of a lot of these bands I couldn’t gauge exactly what I was in for, but the name of the mix was In the Cage and ‘aggressive’ was in the description, so I figured it would be fine.

It was not fine. It was prolonged, tuneless screaming and a lot of what sounded like instruments being played, or perhaps being thrown down some stairs, by angry teenage boys. It was very distracting and not in a good way. I kept skipping tracks and ultimately jumped to a different mix that was a little better.

My neighbor suggested that I make my own mix, but I use FitRadio because I can build in interval cues and there is so much to choose from there. Also, with homemade mixes there is always that pause between songs. Even if it’s super short, it’s present and I don’t like that dead air when I’m working out. After a little bit of trial and error I should have enough mixes added to my favorites so that there is variety and I can be assured that I will be fired up.

I was not fired up this morning, which was not good since I was supposed to see Ralph today. On the contrary, my body was quite stiff, especially my knees. I have not been taking good care of them lately. My lack of patience has led me to resume my prior level of activity even though I was not fully recovered and I’m paying for it now.

I resolved last night, when I had to put BioFreeze on my legs before bed, to take better care this week. To do my stretching and jump back in to the flexibility program that I paid good money for. As is often the case, the universe has nudged me further along this path, as Ralph texted this morning to cancel because he wasn’t feeling well. No excuse now not to do the program, even though I kinda don’t feel like it. I’m killing time here on this blog instead, which is probably why this entry is just going on and on… I’m the worst.

I was actually planning to write a little more about the long weekend generally, but if I do that now it will just feel like more procrastination. I’ll suppose I’ll save that for next time.

Weight and Heavy Metal

I’ve been feeling better in my body lately, which is a huge relief. The practice of cutting myself off from food around a certain time in the evenings has been very helpful.

It generally starts right after I’ve had dinner, and often dessert, so I am completely fed and therefore not denying myself anything. I’ve discovered that some good, hot, herbal tea works wonders for settling down that urge to binge all night. Furthermore, if I’m out there watching TV and I start to feel ‘hungry’, which, let’s be honest, isn’t actual hunger, It’s just my penchant for tasting things, I can look at the clock and realize that it’s time for me to start winding down anyway, which I then proceed to do.

My sleep is definitely better now that I’m not going to bed with a ton of food in my belly. Instead of waking up every 2 hours, I wake up about an hour after I go to sleep, and again around 4AM for some reason, but that’s it.

I don’t wake up starving and don’t generally consume anything I have to chew until 11 or later, which is not by design, it’s just working out that way. I consider my ‘fast’, for lack of a better word, broken when I have my morning coffee, so I’m free to eat whatever I want. I just find that I am not terribly interested until later. I have grown to really desire my veggie smoothies, so I feel like my body is getting something it was missing from those.

All told, I have had nothing but positive results from this behavior modification, but I have had to actively avoid the scale. It is so ingrained in me to check for progress there in spite of the long list of benefits previously described. As if it isn’t real unless there is a numeric corollary. I’m never saying never to weighing myself again, but for now, I feel like it would do more harm than good so I’m steering clear.

On another positive note, I think I’ve unlocked the secret to really being present in my workouts. Turns out, it’s obnoxious heavy metal music.

Deciding the soundtrack of my workout is always a challenge. If I’m running or doing something repetitive, EDM or house music works fine because I can match that rhythm to my steps/movements. If I’m trying to hold a plank or focus on slow reps with heavy weight, that same exact mix can drive me insane. Since my workouts are generally a blend of cardio and weights I lean toward up tempo music that I might like to dance to. The idea being that the rhythms will keep me going during cardio, but I have lyrics and other nuances to mentally latch onto during slower sections.

Yesterday, I chose a heavy metal playlist to humor my neighbor, because she is a self described “metal-head.”

To be clear, I don’t dislike this kind of music, it’s just not what I would actively choose to listen to. Also, what is ‘metal’ anyway? I love Tool and Rage Against the Machine, but I consider them more alternative. But I digress.

I didn’t know over half of the songs that came on during our workout and it didn’t matter. Something about the angry, angsty nature of the music kept me in this energetic, aggressive state of mind. It was not poppy or bouncy, but certainly still had rhythm, but that rhythm came with all this extra crunchy, driving, charged music behind it. I don’t know. It was weird. I’m going to try it again next time to see if it was just a fluke but if it wasn’t, I may need to ask Ralph to switch up his playlist for me on Tuesday.

Quiet Tiles

I am sitting here amidst a pile of acoustic tiles I bought on Amazon last week. I was aggravated because I was on a conference call in my office while my dad was on a phone call in his room. We share a wall and despite the tapestry (who am I kidding, it’s a sheet) I hung on the wall to dampen the sound, I could hear every single word he said. Granted, he’s a loud talker, so it’s not 100% the fault of shitty walls, but I can’t take it anymore.

Even though the tiles were an impulse buy, I have no regrets for the aforementioned reason, but also because this will make it easier to embrace this space as mine to use for something other than work. Even if it was just work, I always have headphones on. My ears get hot after a while. I would love to just put some music on in the background without worrying that my dad will hear it or that it won’t be loud enough to drown out his noise.

I’m trying to dedicate time to work on some fiction writing so I’m spending more time in here, with headphones at the moment, but I feel like the drive to write and the acquisition of the tiles have intersected at an opportune time. If I can get it quiet in here I can get back into my flexibility exercises too! Future me, writing the great American novel and hitting the splits. Fuck yeah.

Now I just have to wait for Emmitt to install them. He was going to do it today, but got distracted by the bird feeders in the backyard. I can’t even give him shit about that. My backyard is lit. The bird activity is heavy and varied. Then there are the squirrels and of course my sweet raccoons. I just fed one of them some soup and it was adorable.

Gotta go try to be creative now.