Sister

The party on Sunday was as enjoyable as a child’s party is bound to be for any adult. It was lovely to see Otto, who is standing assisted and can even go short stretches on his own. He will be taking a step any day. I met a bunch of people from his mom’s side and they say they see me in Otto. A lot of people say that we resemble each other. I shaved my head again and bleached what was left a very pale blonde which gave me and my big round head a giant baby vibe, so that probably had a lot to do with it.

The interaction with my sister was strained. She was disappointed that my dad didn’t come to the party. I told her that it’s hard for him to get around and he can’t hear anything and he would have been miserable and he said he didn’t want to be a “wet blanket.” She can’t see that side of it though, and just feels like everyone in the family should be front and center for any and everything having to do with Otto because he’s the “first grandchild.” I’m not even going to go in again on the Moira erasure, because she’s a grown woman at this point, so besides that, people have other shit to do. Em wasn’t there because he had a show that was scheduled and paid for long before the date of the party was announced. Was he just supposed to cancel all his plans so he could stand around at an event Otto will have absolutely no recollection of? It’s further annoying because I found out when I got home that day that my sister had been texting dad before I even left the house trying to guilt him into coming, going so far as to offer him a ride. Bitch, I’m right here. Dad has a ride if he wants to go, but he doesn’t. This whole incident pissed Em off too because H makes what she wants and what she thinks is right into the only acceptable action and this is dismissive of everyone else. It ignores the fact that we live with Dad every day and we know better than anyone what he can and can’t bear. It’s fucking annoying.

All that said, I know there is nothing to be done about it. This behavior manifested the second she found out there was going to be a baby and I suspect it will continue as long as Dad walks this earth. H is obsessed with Otto and spends all her free time babysitting and being with him which is fine, but making her whole life about someone else is not healthy. I don’t think it’s a step too far to say she’s a little obsessed.

I’m going to try to make a date with her to have lunch or something and I just know that she’s going to say she can’t because she’s working but that she’s babysitting on whatever day and that I’m welcome to join her. Look, I love my nephew, but I raised my kid and no, I don’t want to babysit and clean someone else’s house in my free time.

I did invite her to the Halloween get together at my neighbor’s house, and she acted like she might be interested, but I highly doubt she will show up.

It’s frustrating that this divide is developing in the wake of something so beautiful. It should not be this way.

Checking In

I have nothing earth shattering to report. The week has flown by and I’m glad to say that I have stayed aligned with my long term goals, even when I dined out last night. I felt strong in my workouts but I am definitely glad that I’m going to have a break tomorrow. I have a bunch of errands to run anyway, so I need the time to catch up on things in my life besides working out.

My nephew Otto just turned 1 and his party is Sunday. I never thought I’d be excited about going to a child’s birthday party, but Otto is no ordinary child. He’s the best baby ever and I love him so much.

The party will be the first time I’ve seen my sister in a while. When my mom was alive, Heather would clean her house on Tuesdays and I would go over once every few weeks to cut mom’s hair, so we would have a chance to catch up. I’m surprised at how quickly we have drifted since she passed away.

We still connect over Otto and she often invites me to babysit with her, but this is usually on a weekend evening which is when I have a rare moment of down time, so I usually decline.

I worry that she is disconnecting because my mom was technically the biological thread that connected us. I never thought of it that way, she’s my sister no matter the biology, but I know it nagged at her. I hope she doesn’t feel that way but just in case she does, I’ll make sure the time we spend this weekend reassures her.

Less Intensity

Yesterday’s session with Ralph was pretty light, mostly because I stopped halfway through and proceeded to just gossip with him about the girls trip. He has trained or is still training everyone from the group so he knows every one of us. He would tell you otherwise, but he loves gossiping. The only problem is that he’s not exactly a vault, so there is a chance that he will go on to share something I said. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I told no lies.

I was going to do the 30 minute express workout at Planet this morning, but last night I managed to book a Pilates class so I’m going to do that instead. My body can use the break. I spent the morning stretching and foam rolling and slathering myself in Tiger Balm.

Another topic of conversation this past weekend was how I have trouble doing things at low intensity. If I’m working out, I’m going as hard as I possibly can, injuries be damned. I need to work on giving like 50-80% and being ok with that. If I go all in on my sessions with Ralph I shouldn’t be lifting as heavy as I possibly can at F45 in the between days. Writing it here, it’s obvious. My body will break down. But it’s hard in the moment not to feel like I have something to prove. I gotta work on that. Today is an example. The Pilates class isn’t until 1030A, which means that I totally had to time to do Planet beforehand. I strongly considered it, but let it go. Just because Pilates doesn’t kill me doesn’t mean it’s not exercise.

Dinner last night was great. I made southwestern seasoned grilled chicken, sliced it and served it in bowls over rice and black beans, garnished with Pico de Gallo, diced jalapenos, sour cream, a squeeze of lime and a sprinkle of Tajin. It was light yet hearty. I skipped the rice and sour cream and had extra beans. Dad had two big bowls of it, and he doesn’t usually eat much at dinner, so I’d say it was a hit.

I went to bed feeling satisfied and slept well. Day 1 was a success. I know the real test is yet to come, but I’m feeling different this time around. Stay tuned.

Alignment

I went to Discovery Cove this weekend with a group of girlfriends. It was generally a good time, but I’m glad the trip was a short one because some of these bitches were getting on my nerves. That said, after we got back from a long, tiring day at the park, we all showered and gathered in the common area of our suite to hang out. I asked the group to talk about a trait that they had that they were completely aware of that they wished they could change and why. I led the discussion by talking about my critical nature, especially when it comes to myself. I went on a tangent and in tears talked about how I’m “doing everything right” and still can’t lose weight. Then went on to say that I “refuse” to count calories because it is insane and can be damaging (partially true) and that it is irrelevant because my diet is so great anyway.

This is not the first time I have said things like this. The fact that I work out a lot is provable and undisputed. The diet thing has been a point of contention for a while and as I spoke that night, I heard the lie. I went to sleep hearing the lie. I thought all the next day about the lie.

I don’t think it is a coincidence that these reflective wheels were set in motion on the same day that my calendar reminded me that it had been 4 years since I stopped using alcohol. Four years of not doing a thing that I never thought I would be able to completely give up.

In shining an honest light on my behavior around food an obvious pattern occurs. I start strong at the beginning of a week, usually. I go at least 2 days with strict adherence to whatever plan I came up with. By day three I start to wobble. By day four I’ve usually abandoned the whole thing, telling myself I was wrong to start anyway and justifying going back to whatever behavior I was engaging in before. It’s pretty much the exact same pattern I followed when I would try to quit drinking.

When I eat the healthy, nutrient dense foods I know are better for my body and that I actually need to fuel my training sessions, I feel almost immediately better. More energetic, better mood, better sleep. I feel good physically and in that short amount of time can even see physical changes that make me feel more confident in my body. I can train longer and harder and recover faster.

So why, why oh why, do I walk away? At this juncture, I’ve decided that there are a variety of reasons that work in concert with each other. The first is overconfidence. The feeling of, “I got this” that leads me to be less vigilant. When I become less vigilant, I stop focusing on the long term goal and get lazy and make counterproductive decisions about food. Then I feel bad about it. I feel like a failure. So, I double down and just keep making bad choices because I have a self destructive streak on which rides my self loathing. These two conspire to convince me that I’m never going to be successful or good enough, so I might as well just “live my life.” Deep in there though is my super high opinion of myself and my feeling that I should able to control all of this but if I do, and I succeed, then I have to eat so much crow.

A big part of this stupid dance I do is possible because I have this disconnect between the cerebral me and the physical me. As though we are two different entities working against each other instead of coalescing into a whole being.

My challenge for myself in the coming days (weeks, months, years) is to bring these pieces of me into alignment and then to align my behaviors with my long term goals. I feel more resolute in this than I have in the past. I think something in me may have finally clicked into place.

I talked to Em last night about how I was feeling and what I plan to do and he’s been feeling somewhat the same, so he has encouraged me to do whatever I need to do in terms of food and assures me that he’s looking forward to it and is ready for a change as well. We have committed to not derailing each other, which is something we do often in the name of love. Ultimately, it will be up to each of us alone to make our way through but I am not going to continue to support behavior in my husband that could quite possibly kill him in the long run.

I’m more excited than apprehensive. I’m thinking of the things that I will be able to do more than about the things I am turning my back on. I am hopeful that this is the last of these kind of posts that I ever write.

A Better Day

I feel better today.

When I got to the gym yesterday, Ralph was finishing up with his previous client and he had me get on the rowing machine. There I sat, rowing with no enthusiasm, probably looking as dejected as I felt and making zero effort to hide it. After a few minutes, Ralph approached me and said, “wanna go have breakfast?” and I said, “now?” and he said, “yes”. So I stopped rowing, gathered my things and followed him up to First Watch.

He sat and listened to me and then he encouraged me. I cried a few times and didn’t eat much, but it was nice to talk to him instead of working out. He really is such a blessing.

I came home and while my spirits were somewhat lightened, I still felt meh and was tired of looking at myself so I got the clippers out and chopped all my hair off. The weather is a little chilly, the seasons are changing and so a fresh start felt like it was in order.

I always feel a little stronger with no hair. Like, if I’m willing to walk in society exposed like this, no one is bound to come at me because it makes me seem braver than most. It’s sort of counterintuitive to make oneself more vulnerable to gain strength, but it just seems to work that way. It also helps me to refocus my energy on things that matter and remember that all of these little choices really are just little choices and I don’t have to give them so much weight.

Anyhow – That’s how I feel today. I had my first post reset solo workout up at Planet and I pushed myself, so that test was passed. Tomorrow is Ralph and it will be nice to see him again now that my head is, temporarily at least, out of my ass. Thursday I am meeting a friend up at F45. I’m a little nervous about that one, just because it is group fitness and that means social dynamics to navigate. It’s a good time for a bald head, I suppose.

P.S. Melissa, I saw your post and followed the link. I appreciated it and it resonated, so thank you very much. I couldn’t comment/like the post for whatever reason, but I wanted you to know 🙂

Year 49

Today is my birthday and I am depressed. I felt it creeping up, but it is truly upon me now. I’m going through all of my usual gratitude exercises, and I am grateful. I know that I have nothing to really be down about, but here we are.

I think a large part of it is disappointment in myself. I start off on these great paths and then just fall off of them for no good reason. It’s not like a huge deal, but I ate like shit this weekend and didn’t even really enjoy it. Why? Why do I continue to do the self destruction thing? It’s not alcohol anymore, thankfully, but it seems like it’s always something and it makes me feel like I’m stuck on repeat.

I’m smarter than this. I’m stronger than this. The age thing deepens the feeling of self loathing because I should also know better by now. I’ve been on this merry go ’round for a long, long time. I get off, I feel great, I’m veering off down a path that leads into a golden meadow and I’m like ‘fuck it, never mind, let’s go for another spin.’

It’s annoying. I am annoying to myself. I just keep getting older and can’t help but wonder if I’m just going to be a big fucking idiot until I die. Repeating the same stupid patterns over and over until the wheels fall off.

I need more sleep. This will help. This week, my plan is to get back to turning devices off by 9 and lights out by 10. Another good habit that I ripped out by its tender roots and replaced with doom scrolling Twitter until midnight. God, I am so dumb.

Anyhow – I’m going to go to the gym in a few minutes and pray no one there realizes its my birthday. I do not want the attention. I am actively avoiding my phone because I know that there will be a flood of love and well wishes there and it will feel either fake or undeserved.

I hate feeling this way. I’m writing about it to try to get it off my chest, make myself feel better but I’m just watching this whiny ‘poor me’ screed march across my monitor and I am further disgusted.

Reset – Day 58

It’s only day 58 but technically it’s the last of the 5 day a week series with Ralph. All in all, I’m glad I did it. It was expensive, but I am in a much better headspace than I was when I started. I’m enjoying exercise, and feeling better in my skin. I have recognized that this is nothing I will ever be done with, it’s just part of my life now. All the coming changes are purely logistical.

I will admit that I have some fear about the coming weeks, because I don’t have my safety net. Ralph won’t be expecting me to show up at a certain time on Tuesday and Thursday, so it’s on me to have a plan and execute it.

I will continue reporting, for accountability and for the sake of writing something. I tried to start a creative project the other day and ended up typing and deleting, typing and deleting. I know you’re supposed to just do it anyway, but when I’m not feeling it, everything I write feels like complete trash and I hate it and it makes me not want to write. So I give up. Perhaps if I just keep going with the trash I’ll break through with something decent again. We shall see. That’s a project for another time. I have lunch with my BFF on Saturday and she is an actual writer, so I’m hoping that she can help me get on a path that leads somewhere.

Reset – Day 56

Well Friday came and went. The cookies were a hit. There was some slight confusion that led to Ralph taking all of the cookies for himself, after making a big show of sharing one or two. I even made him his own special batch, but he was so blinded by his love for cookies he didn’t immediately realize it.

Saturday, I had yoga with a friend and a impromptu date at the Mexican place with Em.

Sunday, I had a painting thing with friends. It was fun. I like an outing with an activity. Here’s my adorable painting.

I was off on Monday, but I went to work out anyway. It was a lot of lifting. Afterward, I think I came home and did nothing. Me and Em sat around and caught up on some TV which is something we haven’t done in actual years, so it was nice. Unfortunately, sitting in one position with my leg tucked under me after a whole bunch of weightlifting caused some weird knee issue. My theory is that both my knee and hamstring tightened up in that shortened position and pulled my knee out of alignment.

Tuesday morning, I spent a lot of time stretching and rolling and it felt better, but not 100%. I wore a compression sleeve and told Ralph that we should probably take it easy on my knee to which he responded by making me do a bunch of squats. It was fine though. If it had twinged or anything during the exercise I would have stopped, but it didn’t and I think the lifting actually helped a little. After a good night’s sleep and some more foam rolling, it feels even better today.

As far as the ‘cutting’ goes, I stuck to the calorie goal he gave me for two days and ate really good, high protein, low fat, nutrient dense foods. I was still hungry at the end of the day and as is my way, rebounded by eating everything in sight for the next day or so. I reevaluated the plan, opting for a calorie deficit range, which slides in accordance to my calorie expenditure on any given day. This way, on days where I need more food, I get it and still stuck with the plan. I told Ralph on Monday what I had done and he was fine with it.

I went to a less expensive grocery to stock up on ground chicken since I’m eating a lot of it but it was kind of gross. The grind on the chicken is really big which means there is a higher likelihood of running into a perceptible chunk of fat or gristle or even bone. I’m going to make some of it today and I hope I’m wrong, but I can say I’m not looking forward to it.

I am grateful that I am in a position to be a snob about my chicken. I wasn’t always this way. I’m insufferable, but at least I’m self aware.

I had a chance to talk to Ralph about the schedule after day 60, which is rapidly approaching. We agreed we would go to 3 days a week, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I will do my driveway workout on Tuesday and I’m not sure yet about Thursday. I may go to Planet Fitness or try this other place called F45. We shall see. The biggest test will be me remaining consistent and pushing myself. I’m hopeful. I feel good.

Reset – Day 51(2)

I am tired. I stayed up too late last night scrolling through Twitter (or X, though it will always be Twitter to me) looking at stupid updates about reality TV, random fight videos and cute animals. None of it was terribly interesting but I started looking at it around 9pm and it was 11pm before I realized it. I probably killed so many brain cells. I woke up around 5am and couldn’t get back to sleep. I tried for a while but it was frustrating so I just got up around 6am and started stretching and foam rolling.

My butt is still sore, but less so today, thankfully.

Yesterday Ralph told me that we are entering the next phase of our training. He said we have established that I need to exercise pretty much every day. True. So, now, he says it is time to “cut”. He wants me to go on a calorie restricted diet, but not so much to starve myself but to make sure I am focusing on nutritionally dense, smart food options, to make the most out of my calorie allowance.

I balked at first, because I don’t like counting calories and feel like it can lead to disordered eating, but after I considered it some more I was able to put it in a framework of mindfulness. The calorie limit is more of a guideline versus a hard and fast rule. If I evaluate my food choices based on this framework, it doesn’t feel as limiting. Weight loss is certainly a component, though not the primary motivating factor and that’s how I’m able to accept it. Ralph wants me to use this three week period of restriction/evaluation to try to change my relationship with food a little. There are no ‘off limits’ foods, just a budget that I need to consider.

I can talk myself into and out of a whole lot of things, but at my age, this is an experiment I really should embrace with an open mind. My cholesterol was high, after all, and I recognized already that I needed to make some changes, so this is just another example of the universe sending me a little nudge. I got it universe, I hear you.

The funny thing is that I have no idea what I weigh right now. There are scales at the gym but I haven’t stepped on one. I know at some point Ralph will want to do a weigh in and new set of measurements and at that time I’ll get some new numbers. What I do know is that I feel better and see change already, so I am motivated to stay on this path, regardless of a number and that’s nice. Old me would have made damned sure that I had a baseline before I started so I could track changes, but if the idea is to change behavior, then that’s the ultimate goal and that’s what I will stay focused on.

Now, to fly in the face of all of that, I made a big batch of cookies last night to take to the gym. I didn’t eat any of them, I just felt like baking and I have no one else to give them to on short notice since I’m always at the gym or at home these days. Em told me that Chad, the guy that runs the weightlifting side of the gym, isn’t a big weirdo about food so he will hopefully appreciate the gesture.

Reset – Day 50

The soreness from yesterday persists. It’s mainly my glutes. On Tuesday, Ralph had me doing deadlifts, but with my feet on these wedges so I was basically doing the lifts in high heels. I think this is what did it, calling some apparently underutilized part of my butt into service.

Yesterday, it was so bad that I couldn’t do my sprints (not properly at least) so Ralph stopped about half way through the session and proceeded to torture me with a trigger point ball and brute force. It felt a little better, but today I am all bruised up and dealing with the soft tissue trauma I endured to try to unlock my hip.

This morning, I stretched and foam rolled for about 45 minutes, and slathered my butt with Tiger Balm, so I’m feeling better, but I am also sitting down to write this. When I get up, I’ll know whether that was only temporary.

I got some big squishy shoes a while back because I was dealing with plantar fasciitis. These felt great while I had them on but they were hard to work out in. It’s hard to be nimble when your shoe is twice the size of your actual foot and it’s hard to feel grounded when lifting weights. I started doing some research on lower profile or barefoot shoes and learned that wearing these big fluffy things might actually be making my issue worse. Sure, they relieve the discomfort while I have them on, but once I’m back to just my feet, the pain was indeed ramping up. Apparently, all that squishy cushion and arch support makes the muscles your feet work less causing them to stiffen and weaken over time.

Since I learned this, I have gone back to my regular sneakers until I can afford some barefoot ones and I’ve been taking them off as soon as I get home and just walking around in socks. The first few days were quite painful, but as of today, there is a marked improvement in the way my feet feel.

I ate custard last night, even though I only had one salad. I have no regrets. I may amend my rule to one salad equals one custard. That seems fair. I think I’ll make cookies later and take some to the gym tomorrow.