View from the Ledge

I've always been drawn to the mountains. My early years were spent in northern Indiana, a fairly flat place, but with its own cool stuff like the Lake Michigan sand dunes rolling along the inland sea. But my family criss-crossed the country on vacations as I grew up, visiting relatives, exploring far-off places. The oceans, deserts and plains all have their unique appeal, but it's been the mountains that have always blown me away. I will never forget the first time, at age 8, that I was faced with the unbelievable scale of Mount Rainier hanging over the landscape, as though a second behemoth moon were rising from behind the horizon. That awe truly has never faded for me. There are so many options for mountain exploration in the Pacific Northwest. When my family moved here, I landed in a bit of paradise.

I have struggled with my health and weight all of my life. But my love for the mountains and my burning desire to explore eventually pushed me out there as a young adult. When I worked at a daycare and A worked in fast food, we saved our pennies, bought a run-down Ford Econoline van from a dude in a Safeway parking lot and started driving off into the wilderness. At first we just drove to pretty places, but we did begin to hike, occasionally, in a few settings that called to me such as Sunrise trails on Mt. Rainier. My general health issues, arthritis and obesity did not allow us to get far very fast, but we continued to push and push. It might take hours and enormous effort to make it to the top of the trail, and we might be the last people off the mountain, but we went anyway, and saw the most amazing things, even if what I could do was limited. We walked back in the dark, exhausted, in pain but triumphant, seeing things that other day hikers usually didn't get to because they were always off the mountain before twilight. You can see pictures of me doing this at my heaviest, right here on this page.

I am much more capable and enthusiastic in my exploration, these days. This year has been the most amazing, so far. Though I am currently heavier than my lightest, I'm guessing by 12 or more pounds - I'll talk about that more below - the hiking has been mostly easier than ever before. We have been doing a conditioning hike of some sort every day for the past month, with the goal of getting in good enough shape to be able to qualify for next winter's Alpine Scramble course at The Mountaineers so that we can make Camp Muir safely next summer. 

According to the brochure: "A rough measure of adequate conditioning is the ability to hike Mount Si, from the trailhead to the base of the Haystack with a full pack (20-30 lbs.) in 2—1/2 hours or less." I have never even attempted Mt. Si, to date. Mt. Si is a 3150 foot elevation gain, 8 mile round trip, and relentlessly steep. A tough goal, but I believe this to be doable, in this time frame, for the first time in my life. Camp Muir is at roughly 10,000 feet, halfway up Mt. Rainier from the Paradise visitor's center, and you must cross a treacherous snowfield to get there (which is why the Alpine Scramble course training is essential). You can see where it should be from the top of the Skyline trail. I have always dreamt, figuratively and literally of being way up there on the shoulder of Rainier, but the only way to get there is to hike, 4,000 feet of elevation gain in 4 miles. So we are conditioning, little by little.

This last weekend we hiked to Rattlesnake Ledge, another nearby beautiful Cascades hike, less steep but a decent challenge at 1200 feet elevation gain in just under 2 miles. The reward at the end is to step out onto a bare rock "ledge" that is more like a needle, 1500 feet up with views over the lake that you start out at far below, green pine valleys and the snow-dusted peaks beyond. We took that hike last July for the first time. It was a muggy hot day, so that may have  slowed us down. But it took us a few hours, with lots of stopping, and we were WRECKED. This year, admittedly on a slightly chilly but sunny day, it took us an hour! We played tag with a group of twenty-something kids while we took turns resting, (way less this time, though!)  and made it up in the same amount of time as they did! We passed other people who looked younger and thinner, struggling along the trail. This has NEVER happened for me before. Never. 

We ate our apple and almonds snack while admiring the vast landscape stretched out below the ledge. Afterwards, we attempted to go further up the trail and see how far we could make it up Rattlesnake Mountain, toward the East Peak, which is a much steeper climb. But just a few yards past the ledge the trail was covered in a deep mushy sludge of snow, impossible to walk in without crampons and freezing without proper gear. Here's me on that section looking goofy and cold:

I'm glad that we didn't continue much farther, actually, because while I wasn't feeling any pain at the time, I was disablingly sore for several days after in the hips. I still haven't discovered what the problem is there. I've decided to try taking digestive enzymes with and outside of meals, as some people have suggested may help if the hip problem is bursitis. I'll let you know how that goes.

All in all, that hike was glorious and really made me feel good about my progress and what I'd like to accomplish. I think a steady diet of weight training and walking has done me worlds of good. Especially doing the Occam's Protocol (from the 4 Hour Body), with super-heavy (but calibrated) lifting to failure. My legs are so much stronger, which apparently makes a giant difference in pushing myself up that mountain. It makes all kinds of sense, yet I never thought of that! I thought hiking was all about conditioning. Now I'm realizing that the benefits of lifting heavy things are much much more than getting giant biceps.

Yesterday we completed Occam's Protocol week 5, with the chest and leg press workout (B). We'd had to push workouts back in the past few weeks due to travel and post-hike soreness. It turns out that it had been 2 weeks since the last workout B. I only upped my inclined chest press 5 pounds instead of 10 as suggested, and I still UTTERLY failed to get minimum reps in, 3.5 instead of 7, but I held the failure and am hoping for better next week. However, I KILLED the leg press again. I got up to 150 pounds, for 15 reps to failure (5 past minimum). That's 50 pounds more than I began lifting 5 weeks ago, for a fifty percent increase in strength! Yaaaay! So, I'm making great strides towards functionality. I'm getting to do the things I've always dreamt of doing. These are thing that make life good.

I haven't been losing weight. I'm fairly sure I've been gaining. Yeah, some muscle, definitely. Also some fat, certainly. My clothes are not fitting right. I can't wear my fanciest duds that I just bought a few months back. I have to eat a lot of protein for the heavy bodybuilding routine, and just have NOT figured out how to make it happen without getting fatter. I'm trying not to freak out. I can't let myself gain too much. I won't go back to obesity. But I'm going to have to hit the brakes. 

This particular routine is over in a week. The plan is to switch to a fat-burning protocol with more functional free-weights, specifically the kettlebell. So I'm hoping that my metabolism picks up and I can keep stepping up the conditioning hikes, tighten the diet since I won't be bulking.

Why don't I know what I weigh? What I don't want to do is walk around in a state of neurotic freakout. A year ago, I would have. I would have weighed myself obsessively. I would have freaked out and let it get me down. Right now I have plenty of other stressors on my plate. But I also have a plan. I am active, and I am not going crazy with the eating. So I've decided to back off from the scale until I switch routines. Spending my mental energy to take care of and enjoy myself in the meantime.

Lastly, I am thinking that I just may be entering Peri-menopause. Yeahhhh. It's kind of hard to believe. You're soldiering along, finally getting a handle on life, and suddenly, boom, you're old. But I have a plethora of symptoms cropping up, everything from hot flashes, night sweats to the fact that my period is 5 days late now. Which NEVER happens. And uh no, not pregnant. There are other details, which I will spare. But also...the growing belly fat is another sign that LOTS of women complain of. There is a chance that this is the case with me, and that it has crept stealthily in during this whole weight-loss process. This is really bugging me, in case you can't tell. I'm trying to get zen about it. It happens to all of us. It's not the end of the world. I guess it just feels like an uphill battle at times. I had a nice figure, for JUST a second. Hopefully I will get it back again. 

If not, well, the world is big and beautiful. And there are still mountains to climb. The view from this ledge is pretty great. But I will go higher.

Horse Wisdom

Appaloosa Horse, from Wikimedia Commons

I made a breakthrough today.

More than three years ago or so, when my life began crashing down all around me, I made a decision to get whatever help I needed to change my life for  the better. I found a skilled counselor who was a great fit, who also referred me to the naturopath that I still work with today. They both helped put me firmly on the path to a happier, healthier life than I had ever dreamed possible. I began the slow process of learning to stop feeling guilty for things I was never responsible for, trying to save people around me and really concentrating on taking care of myself, for the first time in my life. I put a newly developed, potentially life-threatening auto-immune issue into remission. I lost so much weight, it seemed like I had entered a whole different world, based on what I could do, what I saw in the mirror, how the people around me treated me. My paralyzing social anxiety eased to the dullest throb. I learned to really, really enjoy moving my body. Life-tranforming changes, all of them.

What I still had never really found was self-acceptance. Everything I have accomplished, all the things I've mentioned and all the other things I've ever done with my life seem to count for nought to me. I constantly worry if I am a worthwhile human being. I do not believe in my own merit in any realm. I struggle in my relationships, because I don't ever feel confident in my own decisions, values, boundaries. It goes on and on. The bottom line is, I never have been able to say that I love and accept myself, as I am today.

This has been playing out with my body a bunch. As my weight fluctuates, as I struggle to find the regimen that will take me to the next level, make mistakes, change my mind, I find myself thinking terrible, negative thoughts about myself. Calling myself names. Sneering at my new, fantastically thinner self for still having excess fat, for every weakness, every misstep. I do try really hard not to, sometimes I'm successful. Often not. I know this is not helpful.

Today I met my counselor out at a ranch. She has begun working with clients using horses to guide the session, and asked me to come out. She was certain this would be helpful for me, especially, for some reason. I was excited and nervous. The ranch was out in the east Cascade foothills, next to a calm lake, amongst a patchwork of tiny farms. The surrounding green pine forested mountains dissolved into soft grey clouds above. A beautiful and contemplative place.

I met my counselor at the barn, and she introduced me to her horse, I'll call her Alex. Beautiful Appaloosa mare, brown with a white blaze and sock with faint spots, gorgeous deep big brown eyes with white sclera, like a human's. Alex has a deformity that results in it being dangerous for her to be ridden. She is, however, spirited and smart. This is now her job. We talk about what this work is. How horses are intuitive, how they pick up on our emotions and can help us tune in to what we are feeling. This can be very hard, for me. I can see the possible value in this.

I am very slow and cautious in approaching Alex. I extend my hand as shown, but I worry that she will be startled by some movement. We both flinch a bit when I tentatively move my hand closer a few times. My counselor showed me how to gently groom Alex, and we both brushed her to connect, become familiar, calm. We then went out to the paddock and began the work.

I started talking about my body issues, my struggle to find a good way to eat, work out, and how I feel I am slipping from my path. Alex wandered off and rolled in the dirt. I trailed off from what I was saying and just watched. I have never seen a horse do this before, in person. Her big, beautiful, muscular body rippled gracefully as she playfully covered her newly groomed coat in dust and mud. I smiled, realizing that SHE was unconcerned with how she looked, only with being herself and having fun. Huge, powerful, besmirched, but still undeniably beautiful.

Alex wandered into the middle of the paddock, searched the dirt and gravel for something to eat. There was nothing there, but she did this for a long time. My counselor and I returned to our conversation. At some point, Alex wandered over to the better pickings by the railing and nibbled on some rich grass and clover beyond. My counselor eventually remarked on how hesitant I had been when I had first approached Alex. I explained that I had been extremely nervous, in fact, because I was worried whether Alex would even like me. I saw this look I know well cross her face. Now we were getting somewhere.

Why, she asked, would I wonder such a thing? I began digging out the reasons. I know that animals are very intuitive, that they sense the kind of person you are. That I don't feel like a good person. I have all these bad habits and problems. I wonder if they are just things I need to work on, or if they are unfixable character flaws. I realize, suddenly, that what I am actually detailing is my terrible, unrelenting perfectionism, and say so. Alex stops grazing and looks very attentive. My counselor asks me if I love myself. I say I want to. I then realize that I've been waiting for the time that I am a "better person" to love myself. When I am more "perfect." Just like with my body. That I am, body and soul, considering myself unacceptable as I am.

I begin crying. I start talking about how ridiculous that is. That I am, in fact, imperfect, just like every other human being, and will always be so. That no one could ever love themselves if they waited until they were their own ideal selves. That I deserve love, even my own love. I feel like I can breathe. So freaking relieved. I feel this deep sinking down into my core, my belly, in a good grounded way.

Alex then walks straight up to me, and begins to kiss and nuzzle me. I kid you not. I pet her and cry grateful tears and look into her beautiful eyes. This goes on for quite a while. I feel a great glow in my chest. I feel loved. Lovable. Accepted. On the inside and the outside. By both Alex and myself.

Eventually my counselor asks if there's anything else I want to talk about. I search about in my head. Alex disengages, wanders back to graze. I can tell it's because I've pulled back up into my intellect. We talk about this, how I spend so much time there, because it's so hard for me to get down into those feelings, that core, and feel, but it feels so good when I get down there. She points out that I probably did not feel loved growing up with all the abuse and abandonment in my family. That I got used to shutting off my feelings, living in my head, and trying to do the "right thing" to be found lovable, acceptable. Convinced that this was what it took. I concede that I could see how this could happen. I have sort of intellectually known all of this for quite some time. But somehow, this time, I could FEEL it. I always wanted to believe that I am not too flawed to love, but unsure. I suddenly really, truly understood the nonsense of that, for the very first time. She urged me to hang on to the visceral feeling of that realization in my body, my core.

When the time came to go, we went over and thanked Alex. She stopped grazing and gave me a sweet little snort and toss of the head. When I went to leave, she followed me to the railing and looked after me. I felt very grateful for the unconditional love I was given. It was just somehow very moving. My counselor urged me to hang on to this feeling, too, and I am trying.

I hope this doesn't sound too trite or woo-woo. I accept then that this is not an overnight victory, that I am going to have to slowly change 4+ decades of cognitive patterning and behavior around this idea. To fight to get back down into myself and out of my head. To relax and become part of the world and feel good enough for it. But still, I tell you, it was real, graspable progress. I want to write it down, and share it, and keep repeating it to myself until it becomes part of me. There really was something about being out there, about working with that beautiful, sweet horse that busted down a VERY resistant part of me.

So, to all of us struggling with ourselves, not feeling good enough, worthwhile, like we must become "better" to deserve love. Enough. We can strive to become better people certainly. But loving ourselves enough to see why we should take care of ourselves, and not get so caught up in some ungraspable perfectionist ideal of what we think we should be will help us tremendously in the meantime. Especially in letting go of unnecessary anxiety and negativity that can only stand between us and what we want. I can love who I am now. I can enjoy being in the world as I am, and still reach for what I want. It reminds me of all the Buddhist teachings I have ever read or heard. And something I read over at Mark's Daily Apple just today about Detachment from the Outcome. We can have goals, but being over-focused on them will get in our way. Keeps us from the joy of what is around us, here and now, forever and ever, if we let it. And I promise you, I will not. I am willing to trade in my perfectionism for love.

You're Doing It Wrong...

I have lost over 130 pounds, at the moment, counting recent slight regain (hopefully some of it muscle, as I am now lifting 1.5 - 2x what I was a month ago, overall.) I have fought my way, tooth and nail down from morbid obesity to slightly overweight. I know that the vast majority of people who lose large amounts of weight regain it, and then some. So I am paying lots of attention to other successful people's blogs, other success stories on the web. I need to focus, to plant my feet firmly in the grass, and hope to learn from others what works for them, choosing what makes sense for me.

I am noticing a disturbing trend recently. Many of these successful individuals, on a regular basis, point to other people's blogs, to their attitudes, beliefs, struggles, or to the myriad ways to lose weight, maintain or become more fit and say "You're doing it wrong!" This is disheartening to me.

Why? Well, for one thing, I know for a fact that what works for one does not work for another. You can stomp your feet and scream to the sky that your personal experience and/or your chosen brand of science supports this idea. It does not matter how nastily or confidently you state this. My personal experience does not bear this out.

I tried switching out beans for meat protein, for example, eating LESS calories but matching protein amounts and found myself gaining massive fat around the middle, while many people claim that just the opposite happens for them. My friend lost weight doing this, I did not. I was scrupulously honest in my approach. I do not have time to mess around with denial. I wish to change my body composition for the better, and beans did not work. For me.

I lost my weight my own way, a particular method which many people say is wrong. But I'm still here, still ex-obese for the first time in my entire life. I'm still reaching for the body that I want, adapting my lifestyle, working hard. I've seen many people who lost it the "right" way who are struggling, who regained some or all of their weight, and some who did so and disappeared from the blogging world forever and ever. I do not blame them or their methods of losing or maintaining weight. We are all in this together. Sometimes tragedy overwhelms us, or life has a different lesson to teach us just then. I only miss them and wish them well, not feeling any bitterness towards people in those circumstances. I have lost and regained before. I have spun off the track before. I understand how it can go. Many of the greatest success stories have lost and regained before, like Sean from The Daily Diary of a Winning Loser. What matters is that you keep trying.

Another example of "You're doing it wrong" I see a lot is accusing others of a bad attitude. Man, your life is not my life is not his life is not her life. We all need to be supportive of others and understand that they have daily circumstances and life experiences that have shaped them in very different ways than your own. Yeah, there is such a thing as a bad attitude, but pointing to someone or even to people in general and mocking them for their attitude is not going to help, and seems to me the worst attitude of all. Modeling good attitudes, such as finding joy in everyday life, of finding the motivation and strength to live well, of caring for oneself, not tearing down others to make one's self feel better is probably a gazillion times more helpful. Yes, I see the irony here...I'm guilty of criticizing right here and now. But my criticism is of this mean-spirited crap I keep seeing, not the person's own daily struggles. Nobody is always happy/in the groove/motivated. NOBODY.

I accept that each and every one of us has a unique voice, our own way of doing things, methods and struggles and philosophies. What I do not think is constructive is the negativity, the smug know-it-all-ness that points to other people's blogs and says "FAIL." You can choose to blog that way, but I will probably never follow you or un-follow you in the near future. Maybe some people need to hear these negative messages to be motivated, but that's pretty much the opposite of what I've learned about human psychology. It only makes me sick to my stomach when I start to hear that condescension come out. Yet I do see people jumping in together to be nasty, to point to others and mock. It feels so...high school. It feels like a failure to evolve.

I am inspired by other people's inspiration. That's what I find infectious. When they eloquently state what got them going, what keeps them going now, despite all odds. When they celebrate their victories, their beautiful transformation. When they speak honestly about their own struggles, or even when they struggle with their own honesty but keep talking about it. Who amongst us doesn't deceive ourselves, from time to time? No matter what methods each of us choose about eating and exercising and living life, we all have things we can learn from one another. We can support one another. It doesn't mean that we endorse that other person's particular method, that our own is invalid. Your own success and joy and light will attract far more converts to your way than "You're Doing It Wrong" could ever hope to. I would hope.

I'm Siiiiiiingin' in the Rain...

(Image borrowed from Crazy For Cult art contest)

Fresh back from an amazing trip to L.A. We were hoping for escape from the unusual cold-snap here in Seattle as well as the usual perpetual drizzle, but the trickster God of Vacation Weather frowned upon us and it was unseasonably frigid the whole time we were there and rained for several days. Ah well. It WAS sunny on either end of our stay, if chilly. AND, I got to sit 10 feet away from Malcom McDowell as he did a 30 minute introduction and Q&A after a brand spanking new remastered print of "A Clockwork Orange", telling amazing stories about Kubrick and how the movie got made, then emerge from the theater into the pouring rain. If you know "A Clockwork Orange", you know how "Singing in the Rain" gets stuck in your head on a loop, and I was so high on the experience happy...I did a little song and dance routine along Hollywood Boulevard on the way back to my friends' apartment, complete with simulated cane smacks and kicking. I have adored McDowell since I was 18 and first saw that movie, and I felt the same after seeing him as I did after I got to see some of my other life-long idols, like David Bowie or Iggy Pop. He was so charming and humble and smart and sweet. That was one of myriad highlights of an amazing trip, and overall I had a wonderful time.

I am certain that I have put on weight. My clothes are really fitting poorly. Some of it was deliberate choices to enjoy myself. I went to sushi with different friends a few times, because they wanted to and I missed it. I drank beer instead of wine several times when out or with St. Patty's day dinner, Guiness and potatoes, to enjoy the moment. But some of it was stress or alcohol induced eating.

I am realizing that our trips to L.A. have been a bit stressful for a number of reasons, including trying to maximize time spent with several friends there, and staying with some of those friends in an admittedly chaotic atmosphere. I realized that I comfort eat to deal with that, meaning eating starchy comforting foods and/or overeating. It's funny, because there are now only a few situations in which I comfort eat - sleep deprivation and stressful travel situations. But NOT stressful situations when I am at home. It must have something to do with not having familiar surroundings to comfort me.

I also eat poorly if I've been drinking excessively, which tends to only happen on vacation, or to help soothe the hangover after. A and I have noticed that we drink too much with our L.A. friends, and we think it's an association thing, since neither we nor our friends tend to drink too much without one another around. There is something about going out and/or celebrating holidays that we have come to associate with one another. St. Patrick's day in the wonderful historic but alcoholic Hollywood dive bar, The Frolic Room, for instance, didn't help circumstances one bit. My friends and I all talked about this together and committed to trying to do better next time, since none of use feel good after we behave this way.

One wonderful, amazing positive change that I have noticed...my self-confidence is SO much better now. I used to feel very nervous and self-conscious as I walked the streets of L.A. I had always felt that there was so much emphasis on image and thin-ness there. But there has been a sea-change inside me between just the last time and this. This time, I felt self-assured, confident, open. I began to see a totally different side of L.A., one where people were incredibly friendly and diverse. So many times and places, people would just walk up to me and start chatting. I made friends and had a great time everywhere I went. There was so much more happening, culturally, than the shallow, soul-less glitz that I had experienced before. Even in Hollywood, where my friends live right on the crazy main strip, I was able to see and feel so much more than that, the soul beneath the hype of it all. I know the change is in me.

This change is surely the cause of the new magnetism I feel with other people. On St. Patty's day at the Frolic Room, the life of the party cute guy in a jaunty hat and leather jacket became fascinated with me. With all these really cute young girls around! He just kind of honed in on me. Between his silly dancing antics, he was sweetly attentive and inquisitive, charming, well-spoken and informed. At the end of the night, he even asked me on a date!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was amazing to me! He wasn't creepy or just aiming for sex. He wanted to get to know me. He was so intriguing. I really liked him.  I explained my situation with A, and he STILL urged me to see him. But no time for love, Dr. Jones. I was only there for a little time longer. In any case, so flattering! I must be beaming positive, happy, confident, sexy energy into the universe.

So here I am, happy, busy, in need of recovery from sleep deprivation and drinking too much, a few pounds heavier, trying to sort it all out. I spoke with my counselor some about the stress, and we figured out what had happened with the friends that had been stressful, what I had done right and what I could do better next time. I am definitely becoming more assertive and less concerned with other people's judgement/anger, we concluded, which is really good, for me. That has always been a problem of mine, historically. The work I've done over last three years have made a giant difference, and I am really reaping the benefits, physically, emotionally and spiritually. There is more work to do, but there is always more work to do. I feel no shame or guilt about the mistakes or choices I made. I am confident that I will keep moving in the right direction.

I am moving forward with Occam's protocol, (heavy weightlifting / lots of protein / minimal cardio to stimulate massive muscle growth) even though part of me wants to steer off into fat-loss mode, as I now am feeling kind of fat, for me. I do feel I should finish the 6 week commitment and get to where I can lift my bodyweight with my legs and get closer to where I can do a pull-up with my arms before I put that aside for a while. So close to my goals with this.

It's been so long since I've been able to write! I have yet to catch up with people's blogs, can't wait to see how everyone is doing. It will have to wait, maybe for another day or so, as I need to catch up on work, but I felt I couldn't put off writing any longer. I missed that outlet!

So for now, I feel good; happy, despite things not being perfect. So what if I'm a little heavier than I'd like? So what if I am not perfect at dealing with stress or conflict or communication issues or eating? Life is very good, overall. I can see and point to real progress in many realms. I have learned to relax and enjoy my surroundings so much more. Just like the song says, I'm singing and dancing in the rain....

Shoulders Pressed! Success!

Okay, today was upper body super fantastic lift heavy things day! (Otherwise known as Ocaam's Protocol Workout A from the 4 Hour Body book, by Tim Ferriss.) Previously, in last week's upper body super fantastic lift day, I failed to meet my minimum reps (one rep or less than 7) for the ever dreaded shoulder press, by half a freaking rep, at 40 pounds. It was the first time I didn't make the minimum. Though this sort of thing is not unexpected, especially at such a low starting weight, and there's a whole procedure to follow based on that.

Tonight I was filled with nervous anticipation as to whether or not I'd be able to hit minimum reps at the same weight. Would failing last week doom me to failing this week? Does lifting to failure always spur significant muscle gain?

So today I set it at 40 and tried again. I got there, but JUST...7.5 reps, to be exact! Hurray! This is TWICE the weight I first lifted to failure just over three weeks ago! Fantastic.

The fact that I got there this week really speaks to me about the incredible efficiency of this workout. ONE set of 7+ slow (5 count up/5 count down) lifts to absolute shaking groaning shuddering failure, with slow lowering of the weight even after that, plus adequate protein intake and rest, CAN spur a shocking amount of strength/muscle gain.Things only the weightlifters know, I guess!

Pounded the pull-down, 100 pounds x 11.5 reps today! I should be doing 120 by the end of the six weeks I set out for myself. I know these weights are still weenie in the weightlifting world, but for me, excellent real progress. I dicked around in the weight room for so long without every actually making any progress, so this is AWESOME.

It's hard to not to want to keep going, but I really want to switch to a more functional/fat burning fitness routine for a little while, that still uses weight training but involves MORE ACTUAL EXERCISE. Don't get me wrong, after we do our two lifts plus the abs, we are very tired and very hungry. It's hard work! But lifting a little bit twice a week, plus whatever walking we do is building muscle but not much functionality, nor are we losing fat. I chose this way to try and add a bunch of muscle very quickly. 

Just over halfway through, I can see a big difference.  My calves are getting definition. My biceps are insane. I can lift to failure much more than previously. It is totally, totally working.Theory is, this will help up my metabolism so that my body is burning more calories all the time, and so that I am stronger and more able to handle a higher level of exercise. Time will tell if this is effective in that regard, too. Mixing it up is supposed to be good for you, and I believe it. I think I'll cycle back to this kind of routine periodically, because it's easy and it's fun and I like getting stronger. Yes indeedy.

Tonight, I also added weights to my myotatic crunches. You do those on a Bosu (half) ball, supposedly more effective than a regular crunch. (I went to look for a video, and couldn't remember the name, put in "metastatic crunch." As in spreading tumors. That did NOT give me the results I was looking for!) I LOVED holding weights for those. I felt like they were getting too easy before. Just little two pound weights, but it kind of felt stabilizing or something. Next time, three pound weights!

As for the planks...weirdly, I could not meet my time from a few days ago! Should we be taking a week off between those, too? We're currently doing them every workout, twice a week. I could only hold my front and side planks for 30 seconds today, and last Wednesday I could do 45! I could only figure the struggle to get to my shoulder press minimum wore me out. Or that we really should rotate something different in instead, every other time. Ferriss suggests we do kettlebell swings every other time, but we're not trained for that. We will not have trainer money until we get back from L.A. and get paid again, three weeks down the road from now. And I don't want to pull my arms out of my sockets by accident so much.

But kettlebell IS next. I feel like a gym grown-up or something. Using the machines where you have to load your own weights on, instead of setting them with a pin, doing planks, using the bosu ball. Next will be swinging kettlebells and maybe even things like deadlifts and squats and pull-ups! Free weight and body weight exercises! Very exciting. Also, they offer a beginner's pilate's class once a week, want to hit that then too. It's a brave new exercise world.

Lastly, the belly roll has officially shrunk some, though the weight has only gone down a little. I feel like I can wear my tight Threadless day of the dead t-shirt again without being too self-conscious. I'm going to carry on with the no-alcohol (except tomorrow is the ONE day off from that, two glasses of wine and a few extra non-starchy carbs for metabolism boost, and all of that is under strict control), low-carb, no dairy, no messing around diet. Today, I decided I'm not losing fast enough and am cutting out nuts for the rest of the week too. L.A. clubbing is arriving too fast! Those skinny bitches will eat me alive! (I kid, it will all be fine.) But I seriously want to go feeling the best I can.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Last night after dinner, we were relaxing on the couch (yeah, great, right?), watching a rerun of "Game of Thrones" because we're excited about the upcoming season. Sooooo geeky! Anyways, we HAD walked a couple miles before dinner, as we have every night this week between weightlifting sessions, so I don't feel terrible about it. BUT we had already eaten big ol steaks and salad. I had found myself hungry again, plus trying to maximize protein intake, so I went and made a protein powder + 1 cup unsweetened almond milk shake, drank that down, felt satisfied for the night, went back to watch my show.

A few minutes later, A goes into the kitchen, comes back with an orange and a bag of trail mix. Now, this trail mix is just nuts (though including cashews, very starchy) and raisins, no sugar/grains or any of that smack. But still, I am trying to LOSE FAT while gaining muscle right now, and I just don't need those extra carbycarbycarbcarbs in the nuts and fruit form, which I know keeps me from losing, personally. He starts snacking on this. I KNOW this is the wrong thing to do. I think, man, there must be something better to be eating if you are still hungry, some form of protein.

So what did I do? I started eating it too. I find myself reaching into the bag repeatedly. I eat probably more than a big handful, maybe even two. Less than an hour before I will be going to bed. When I am not really hungry. For pleasure while watching the show. Then I find myself crankily telling A that this food is no good for us, we should be snacking on something else.

No bueno.

I realize that without A around, I NEVER snack late at night any more. But if he starts doing it, I do too. Does this mean A is to blame? Absolutely NOT! I need to take full responsibility for my own eating habits. Should I be saying ANYTHING to A about his habits? NO! I owe that boy an apology.

But somehow, all of these years, I give myself permission to eat whatever he's eating, whenever he's eating it. This has not gotten me good results, in the past. Partly because he's The Viking, standing almost a foot taller than my already somewhat tall self, with his linebacker freaking build, shoulders for miles. He NEEDS to eat more than me. I should not be eating as much as him. He weighs more than 90 pounds more than me right now. Eating like him will likely put me back up there, too!

But even beyond this...if he does give in to bad habits, as we all do sometimes, why does that mean I should?  I don't know why I still do this. Sometimes I don't, but often I do. So, if every time he feels he needs some extra calories, or just doesn't have the willpower to resist late night snacking, and I follow suit, and THEN I have my own lapses of willpower on top of that, well, that's the path to failure.

It's funny, because I've been able to divorce myself from everyone else's food behaviors around me, except for A. People might be eating cake, but they may as well be eating rocks, as far as I'm concerned. But A and I have been on this journey together for years now, and living together for over 20. Somehow, this makes it different, though it should not.

We've been, by all accounts, wildly successful overall. You can see how we've both progressed on the picture bar to the right, and those pictures don't even show us at our smallest. It's been over two and a half years since we started losing the weight this time, and though neither of us look/feel exactly as we'd like, we are still ex-obese and growing more athletic, with MUCH more normal food habits. I'm really proud of us.

But I must admit, I think I'm still attached to the idea that it's only "fair" that if he has a snack, I get one too. Even if I'm not hungry! There is still a little lingering disordered thinking, here. And possibly some enmeshment....A is not me and I am not A. I need to neither judge nor match his eating habits. I need to be adamant about taking care of myself. How do you remember to ask yourself, "Is this right for me, right now?" I do so much of the time.

I finally weighed in. Not a totally happy weight, but not TOO out of control. I need to step up my game this next week. Walk MORE. With or without A around. Eat less carby and at the right times, no matter what or when he or anyone else is munching. I want to fit back into my skinny jeans without the muffin top for L.A., the place where I feel fat at my skinniest! I want to be able to rock my clubwear because my friends have gigantic club plans for us, apparently. Gothy clubs and L.A. type clubs! You know what I'm talking about. I need to feel sexilicious. We leave next Thursday!

Monkey see, monkey don't! Or, as I have been advised...monkey see, monkey sit back and calmly observe. No knee-jerk reacting!

The Fingers You Have Used to Dial...Are Too Fat

So spotty this week! Just busy...including ups and downs.

Downs, I think, include my weight. I have not actually weighed, because it was getting neurotic. Clothes are BEGINNING to look a little better though.

Also downs include mood, though that was temporary. I am struggling on how to deal with alcoholic borderline/narcissistic personality close relative. They call me out of desperate need for emotional support every once in a while, though we used to be very close. For an hour and a half, we'll be having the best conversation, reconnecting, where I actually think I see a breakthrough in attitude. Suddenly, they seize on to some neurotic crazy notion that puts the locus of control back outside of themselves. This becomes a way to blame their problems on somebody else. Then they say something horrible to me, putting me on the defensive. I say something I am unhappy about (but is the truth), they get mad and hang up on me. Par for the course. I know that this can happen, any time I pick up the phone for them. I can't bring myself not to pick up the phone every once in a while. Still sad as hell, and brings me waaaaaaaay down, no matter how hard I try to tell myself that it's not my fault and I'm not responsible for the crazy. I do need to work on not becoming defensive in the face of it. That was yesterday, and it hurt a lot. Ah, well. I am starting to feel better again.

Power button broken on phone, an original Droid, which is also malfunctioning in 8 different other ways. Just passed my 2 year minimum on this phone, eligible for another upgrade. Of course the one I just NEED is $300 freaking dollars. A needs one, also, and he NEEDS one like the one I need. His phone is an embarrassment, now that he's going to be representing his company in tech demos and such. And we are paying for another person's phone, and they need a replacement, also. All the research has taken a LOT of time. I want a physical keyboard, but I want really great battery life and 4G LTE Android...so I think I need to give up the physical keyboard idea because the best thing out there for me is the Razr Maxx. But virtual keyboards slow me down and drive me crazy. Either I emanate a static force field the likes of which has been yet unimagined (possible), OR my fingers are too fat and I need a dialing wand. Thank you, Simpsons, for permanently placing that image in my head. A is forcing me to march down there and pick one out today, in any case.

Session 3 of Workout B, Occam's Razor, complete (as of Tuesday)! Again, JUST missed my minimum 7 reps for the Inclined Chest Press, 5.5 reps to failure at 40 pounds, but CRUSHED the leg press for 18.5 reps to failure at 120, with the minimum reps being 10! My legs are a teensy bit sore, but really not bad. Just like my workout A this time, my weakest muscles did NOT gain 100% in strength in two weeks flat, shockingly. But almost!

I am very convinced that if your lift starts at 20 lbs, then tiny kitten muscles that they are, you are NOT going to be able to double that muscle size in two week's time no matter how much protein powder you shovel in your piehole. And I have stopped shoving so much into my piehole! I just couldn't sustain it. I cut those beans out, cut my intake to 1 gram of protein per lb. of lean body weight, and my bloated belly seems to be receding quickly. I plan on weighing tomorrow to check on that. I do think that 1.25 grams was what somebody with testosterone and already a decent muscle-y build can really do something with, but for me it's so excessive my body can only try to shove that and all the calories that come with it into fat cells and sigh.

But look what my legs/glutes did with that! I am going to up my weight by 15 pounds next week, because I shouldn't be able to get more than a few past minimum.

Anyways, relieved to be going back to eating in a more normal fashion, for me. A little less fruit and cheese than I would normally eat, and no alcohol all week since Sunday. I am trying to be a good weight crushing kitty.