Back on the radar and catching up

Hello again! What's new?

That's as good a way as any to start a post after so long, I think.

I'd love to say that I've been quiet because I've been busy having adventures and making great progress, but the truth is that I've been spending my time sitting on the couch, watching tv and making bad choices. And then, subsequently, being upset about those choices, and immediately making more.

Etc, etc.

These spirals are sneaky. I never see them coming. I feel them when they're happening, but I feel so powerless. What's the use?

I've done good things in the past month, and I deserve to own them. I did two 5Ks, one of which I managed to blog about, the other which I didn't.

A shame, really, because it was awesome. I set a new PR over three miles, 36:00 flat, over varied terrain in a state park, and it was in the pouring rain. I'd never before run in the rain; it's not something I'd ever chosen to do, for obvious reasons. But having been forced by virtue of a race, I can safely say that it was one of the most exhilarating, wonderful experiences I've ever had on the road. The rain kept the bugs at bay and helped to regulate my body temperature. My knees were so happy!

I will run in the rain again.

I also learned a valuable lesson that day. After my three-mile PR, my body felt good. Too good. I wonder if I can set another PR today?

Do you know where this is going? You do. I know you do.

So I went to the gym that night and blazed my way through a mile on the treadmill. I was determined, and my PR of 10:41 showed it.

Know what else I accomplished? I pounded the crap out of my good knee. I was forced to take a solid week off from running as a reward for my foolishness. The day that started as such a triumph ended on a whimper - literally.

That, I think, was a deathblow to my motivation. (And my pride.)

My eating habits have been poor. I've given into cravings not just occasionally, not just often. Every day.

This is where the self-loathing comes in.

I don't think that there are bad foods. Not really. I think that any food is acceptable when taken in moderation, and different people get different results from different foods. There's nothing inherently wrong with that box of cookies I ate while hidden away in my apartment last weekend.

No, what's wrong is that these foods deter me from my goals. They're tiny, delicious roadblocks that prevent me from making progress. Losing ground on goals that mean so much to me - goals toward which I'm working so incredibly hard - is emotionally painful, and it chips away at my pride. That's where the problem lies. Not in the food, but in what those foods do to me, in practice.

I will never, ever utter the oft-used phrase that "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels". I don't care one bit about skinny. I care about my fitness. My running. I care about being an athlete, and healthful weight loss furthers this goal.

Besides, my last entry summed up rather well how likely I am to ever be "skinny". Ohlol! These hips may be getting smaller, but they're not going anywhere!

So. Having said that, I've lost a lot of ground. My most recent evaluation last week revealed that I'm down to 194 pounds. When I see that number, I'm so freakin' happy I could cry. But when I realize that number is a scant 1.5lbs lower than the previous month's eval, it's sobering.

That tiny loss isn't a reflection of how hard I didn't work, it's a reflection of how many roadblocks I laid down. How many times I tripped over them.

How much I hated myself for it.

This isn't the first time I've felt this way, and it surely won't be the last. But digging out and overcoming the feelings isn't easy, no matter how many times I've done it before.

So here I am. Next Friday (the 13th!) will mark 9 months since I started on this journey. So far, I have lost 44lbs. This is worth something.

Here, I try to get back on track. I try to stop sabotaging my progress toward my goals. I recognize that I deserve these goals and that I am the only one who can achieve them - or take them away. I decide to take control again.

Let's see how this goes, shall we?

Yes, it was time for an evaluation

Last night was another night with my trainer, and since it had been a while since our last evaluation, J figured that it was as good a time as any. In light of my plantar fasciitis (and subsequent depressive food binge, involving cookies, chocolate, and DiGiorno), it was probably a better time than most.

We omitted two of the exercises: leg presses and 12:00 run. Anything that involves my feet and increased weight or strain on them is out. I'm not willing to take chances.

No hoof, no horse.

So our first stop was at the scale. At long last, after weeks and weeks (and weeks) of no change, the scale has tipped a little lower. I'm sitting at 202 now.

"I feel like I've had so little progress recently," I said. "I'm so close to 200, it makes me crazy!"

"If you hadn't eaten a whole pizza this weekend, you might have been there."

I put on an impressive pout. "Don't say that."

"It's true!" J laughed. "You pay me to say these things!"

Ouch. He had a point there.

The measurements didn't reveal anything shocking. Small losses everywhere, which is good. Predictable. My biggest loss this time around was in my waist, where I lost an inch. Good riddance, I say.

I continued to improve over my last strength benchmarks, though not dramatically, and I keep working away at my sit-ups and push-ups. I'm reaching a point where I'm doing both of those at such a steady, quick pace that it'll be hard to squeeze any more reps out in the space of a minute. I topped out on my sit-ups two evaluations ago, when I hit 61, and even though I was giving it all I had last night, I only made 57 or so. J reasoned that I may be sitting up higher now that I have less bulk around my middle, making each rep take the tiniest bit longer. In reality, this means I'm still working harder, doing more, and getting stronger.

He's so nice to me. (Sometimes.)

Overall, it was another positive evaluation, which I desperately needed right now. The plateau I've been complaining about for the past month seems to have loosened its grip, and the glimpse of progress was enough to briefly kick me out of my depression over not being able to run.

And the depression has been wicked. I feel like something is missing right now. Taking a few days off because I needed a break was one thing. Being forced to take a few weeks off because I hurt myself is entirely another.

Tonight, after leaving the Chinese take-out place I hit once or twice a week, I was struck by the sunset. The air was just beginning to cool, the sky was mottled with multicolored clouds, just a few drops of rain were daring to fall, and the sun was casting these beautiful beams from behind the layers of clouds. And the only thought in my mind as I stood in the middle of the parking lot was: I want to run. My eyes welled up.

Then I realized I was standing in the middle of a parking lot, for crying out loud, and I got the hell out of the way of the murderous souls who wanted to get home with their $5 pizzas before they were no longer Hot-N-Ready.

So. The past few days have been emotional, if mostly rewarding. I'm going out of my way to look after my foot, to help it heal as quickly and efficiently as possible. My purse is crammed full with ibuprofen, an ACE bandage, and an ice pack. While yesterday (and, okay, even last Friday) were intermittently painful in my worn-out work shoes, today was pain-free. I plan to keep it that way.

Progress. Even in tiny bits, it counts. It's important to remember this.

Overwhelmed, in all the right ways

I have the most wonderful friends and family.

I've always known this, but the struggles and triumphs of this journey have really driven it home. My friends and family have been there to support me, cheer for me, and catch me when I fall.

And on a night like tonight, they're here to freak the heck out for me.

Tonight was an evaluation, and as evaluations go, it was phenomenal. Sometimes in evals, I'll make great strides in lifting. Other times, I'll lose more weight.

This time, it was all about inches. In fact, I'm so excited about what I did with my measurements that I'm going to rock some table-fu and recap all the measurement goodness.

Date	10/13/11	11/21/11	12/21/11	1/30/12	3/6/12
Neck	15 5/8	15	15	14 7/8	14
Upper Arm	17 1/8	16 3/4	16 3/4	16	15 1/2
Chest	44 1/2	44	45	42 7/8	42 1/8
Waist	41 5/8	41 7/8	41 1/8	40	40
Hip	55	51 3/4	51 1/8	49 7/8	47 7/8
Thigh	29	28 3/4	27 1/2	25 7/8	25 1/4
Calf	19 1/8	19 1/8	19 1/4	18 7/8	18 1/8
Weight	238	230	226	216	208
BMI	45.4	42	40	39	38.6

Can you tell where my body stores fat? Can you?? If you said "hips and thighs", you win a low-fat protein cookie!

They're not very good. I'm sorry.

Seriously... seven inches off my hips. It's ridiculous. I want to go get on an airplane right now, just so I can settle into a seat and thrust my fists into the air to proclaim victory at finally (finally!) not needing to share awkward thigh-space with my neighbor.

I have a hunch I've lost more off my waist than is reflected here; it's a difficult spot to measure, since it's nigh impossible to remember how much air I had left in my lungs for last month's measurement. What I do know, though, is that in October, I was wearing size 20 pants and I was an inch away from buttoning them. I'm now in a size 18 and they're almost falling off me.

These measurements aren't a science. They're a comparison. They're good enough.

Oh, yeah, and you see that line there that says "Weight"? You can look at it again, if you want. I keep looking at it. And giggling.

Thirty pounds lost. I haven't been below 210 in years, and here I am, at 208. In nine pounds, I'll be below 200 for the first time in nearly a decade. Cripes.

I'm getting all emotional now. Time to move on.

I made improvements on my weight lifting. J got tired of me hitting 40 reps on my leg presses, so he jumped the weight to 285lbs. He had to help me get the weight off the ground.

It was heavy. The ugly face started on rep number four.

I completed 25 reps before my legs gave out. I shoulder-pressed... well, I forgot what I shoulder-pressed. Whatever it was, I hit 40 reps. Let's say it was something impressive.

I shoulder-pressed three thousand pounds.

Lat pulldowns were the killers this time. We set the machine for 85lbs and I only completed 20 reps. My back is a real weakness for me, which I've always known. But it'll get better.

Sit-ups and push-ups both declined. I finished 51 push-ups to last week's 52 (and dang it, if I'd have realized I was so close I would have sucked it up and grunt-yelled out another two!) and was somewhere in the mid-50s on my sit-ups, to last week's 61.

In the world of not-big-deals, this is the leastest-big-deal ever. Things fluctuate. According to J, I'd already set the bar pretty high, and it's okay if I can't meet it every time.

He's so nice to me. I try not to tell him this too much, because I think it makes him think of creative new ways to make me hurt.

Trainers are dangerous.

My 12:00 run was exactly the same as last eval's, finishing at .94 miles. I wish I could have finished better, but I got one of those nagging low back cramps around minute nine and just couldn't shake them. Such is life.

So there it is. Another eval is on the books. One week from today is the five month mark, and I'm excited to see how I'll finish it. Another pound or two would be wonderful and put me on track for my big, exciting, six-month goal.

Every day, every rep, every step matters. It all adds up. In the end, it's all worth it.

Another day, another evaluation

Today was evaluation day. It was also totally freaking amazing.

Everybody, seriously.

It's no secret that my last evaluation left something to be desired. Improvements, yes, but small and not very inspiring. I had to work hard over the next few weeks to dig deep and find the motivation to keep going in.

The week after that eval, I got my diet plan, and I quit chasing the 13-minute mile. I started cross-training just before the new year, spending more time on other cardio machines. I started more weight training on my own.

And so tonight, six weeks after my last evaluation, the numbers were good. Very good. I'm down ten pounds from last time, weighing in at 216. That's 22lbs total! Eep!

All of my measurements have gotten smaller since last eval. I'm down 1.5" on my waist, about 1" on my thigh, and .5" on my calf. Since starting in October, I've lost a total of 5.5" off my hips.

Guys, that's huge. (Pun intended.)

All of the weights I was lifting went up, some of them dramatically. Last time, we set the leg press at 185 and I did 40 reps. Tonight, we set it at 225. I still did 40 reps. My teeth were gritting and I was grunting elegantly for the last eight, but I made it happen. I did 40 lat pulldowns at 70lbs and 25 chest presses, also at 70lbs.

I managed 52 push-ups in one minute, from my dainty knees, and I completed 61 sit-ups. Barely.

My run wasn't quite what I had hoped for, finishing .94 miles in 12:00, but it was a greatly-improved pace over my last eval. The run felt hard today, not at all like last week's triumphant runs, so I'll take it. Improvement is improvement!

Most exciting, my BMI has dropped to 39. I am officially no longer morbidly obese! I'm just plain old, garden variety obese. Six months ago, I didn't think I'd ever get under that mark again. But here I am.

After I got out to my car tonight, I started laughing. I laughed all the way home, singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs.

This is what it feels like when it all comes together. Sometimes, it won't. Sometimes, it'll be hard and it'll hurt, emotionally and physically. But sometimes, this happens. I need to file this feeling away, to pull out and remember when times get tough again. Like the next eval, which is bound to humble me all over again. That's just how this game works.

For now, I'm going to revel in it.

Surpriiiiise evaluation!

Training with J was tonight, a departure from the usual Monday night session. After last night's mess on the treadmill, I wasn't looking forward to it. Legs. It was bound to be.

"What would you say if I said we should have an evaluation tonight?" These were the first words J said to me tonight.

I must have looked stunned, because he backpedaled. "I mean, if that's okay. It's been 30 days exactly..." and he kept going until I interrupted.

"No, that's fine. I just... that's fine." I blinked. "I usually cram before these things, though. Like, sit-ups every day all week. But, um. Okay!"

I weighed-in, which was very anti-climactic. 226 on the scale today, a bit higher than last week's 225. This puts me down twelve pounds since I started two months ago, which J said is "Awesome!"

When I drop eight pounds the first month and only four the second, I don't feel particularly awesome, but he's the expert here. So we'll go with awesome.

Measurements were mixed. Upper-body measurements stayed roughly the same while I lost inches off the waist, hips, and thigh. No wonder I can fit into my pants again!

The performance part of the evaluation went much better. I maxed out my reps on the leg press and chest press at a considerably higher weight than I did last month. I nearly maxed my lat pulldowns at 15lbs higher than last month. I made gains in the sit-ups, exceeding my previous mark of 50 in one minute, and did likewise in push-ups when I made 41 in one minute.

From the knees, folks. It's how I roll.

My run was average, pulling .89mi in 12:00. Better than last month by .07mi and only slightly off my current mile pace.

Also, I was on the squeakiest machine in the building. Every step was accompanied by the creaking of the belt and a slight rattle as my bulk thumped down on it. It was hot, people. So considering that my zen was thrown off by the unintended rhythm of a noisy machine, not to mention my self-esteem, I suppose I did pretty well.

Overall, a decent night. I want better numbers on the scale, but I keep reminding myself that plateaus are normal and I'm still new to all of this. Fitness is a life-long journey. Two months is nothing.

And really, even if I stick to this comparatively-slow pace of four pounds lost per month, you know what that means? Next year at this time, I'll be down nearly fifty pounds.

I'd be a fool to complain about that.

Getting real with the numbers

I knew this day was coming. After last week's brutal training session, I requested that we have a chance to look at my progress, to give myself some new benchmarks. Maybe give myself a little hope.

For the past week, I've been focusing on the things I knew we would test tonight. During my regular routines, I've thrown in my sit-ups, push-ups, lat pulldowns, all the things that we used as benchmarks last month. This was going to be my first check-up, and I'll be damned if I was going to blow it.

And let me tell you, I was nervous. By the time I left work to head for the gym, I was sick to my stomach with apprehension. Will I be good enough?

In retrospect, it was funny: I was terrified that I wouldn't have made enough progress. As if my trainer was going to tell me that I was a lost cause, or that the lack of change would have caused me to quit altogether. I've been watching my progress constantly, and still, today scared me.

Always looking for evidence of my own mediocrity. That's me.

I'm pleased to report that my nervousness was misplaced. Six weeks after beginning, I weighed in at 230. Eight pounds lost. My BMI is down a full point to 42, my body fat percentage is down three points, also at 42. My measurements are all down approximately 1/2 inch, except my hips, which are down a phenomenal two inches. Okay, they're still 53 inches. But this is progress.

My lat pulldowns, leg presses, and chest presses all improved dramatically. I nearly doubled my lat pulldown reps, doubled my chest press reps, and increased my leg press weight. My muscular endurance tests were even better: I completed 35 push-ups in a minute (from the knees, I'm a cheater like that), up from 28 six weeks ago, and I didn't fatigue in my sit-ups until time was up, ending with 50 in a minute, up from 36.

My biggest nemesis, the twelve-minute run, was easily the hardest part. At the time, I felt like I was falling short of recent runs. I beat myself up about it until I got home and was able to log into RunKeeper to check my progress. I ran .8 miles in 12:00, and sure enough, that's a 15-minute mile. Right on track with what I've been doing. Six weeks ago, I managed only .69 miles in the 12:00 allowed.

Someday, I'll learn not to doubt myself.

And that, I think, is the biggest take-away from this experience. I've said it before and I'll say it a hundred times over before I remember it when it counts the most.

I am capable of great things.

My trainer was thrilled with my results, which was as gratifying as the numbers themselves. He warned me that the next evaluation will be harder, that it's much easier to make big gains at the beginning and I shouldn't be discouraged if my gains are smaller.

Bring it on, J. Bring. It. On.

Meeting the trainer (and getting a little personal)

Today marks the first day of this new endeavor that I like to call "accountability".

I've joined gyms before. I started two years ago at a local 24/7 gym, conveniently located in the middle of a mini-mall. The enormous picture windows looked out onto the busiest street in town, and I dutifully went every evening, jiggling my way through a mile or two on the treadmills for all the city to see.

That is, until one day I didn't, and then another, and another, and I woke up one day realizing I hadn't been back in months.

This cycle happened several times over the past few years, every time promising myself that "This time will be different." Clearly, it never was. So here we are again.

On Sunday, I joined a new gym and tonight I met my trainer, J. I'll get this out of the way now: He's pretty adorable. He's a college student, he must be almost ten years younger than I am, and he's now responsible for me.

Thank god someone is.

Day One is always Evaluation Day. I was treated to a series of measurements (yuck), a weigh-in (double-yuck) and a body fat analysis (sigh).

"I've never seen that number before," I said, looking at the scale.

"You never will again. That's why I'm here." I told you he's adorable.

I also went through various exercises, in order to get a benchmark. Push-ups, sit-ups, leg presses, lat pull-downs, and twelve minutes on the treadmill. Now, I have goals. I know what I'm capable of and I know where I want to end up.

Time to come to terms with the slowness of my sprints and the bigness of my sweet, sweet Kardashian hips.