Jul 29: Family Weekend approacheth

Heya rubberneckers!

Whassup. So, I lost 2.2 pounds last week. Right on! I am still 1.4 above where I was pre-birthday, and that in itself was around a pound up from my glorious, all-too-brief visit with the 140s. I am trying my dangdest not to get caught in this stubborn up-down-up-down cycle that tends to happen when I get bored. But you know what they say: tryin' is lyin'. Do, or do not. There is no try. Eh, suck it Yoda.

So on Saturday we are heading to my mom's for the annual Family Weekend extravaganza. Back mid-day on Monday. My plan is to hold off on getting drunk and eating everything for as long as I can, which may take me to as late as Saturday night. We'll see.

The last session of Booty Boot Camp was supposed to be last night. I skipped it, and then it turned out it got cancelled due to thundershowers. So it's been rescheduled for Friday night, and now I have to face the whole guilt trip over again about wanting to skip it but knowing it is for my own good, blah, blah etc. I am still SO not interested in sweating and making effort. This of course contributes to the up-down-up-down phenomenon. Or is a result of it.

I had a totally crazy notion that has not yet departed the swirling, dry ice pensieve where my thoughts live, which is to sign up for TWO locations of Booty Boot Camp (a Mon/Wed class and a Tue/Thurs class) - just for the month of September. Four weeks of pain and whinging. The idea is to bank on the limited amount of Fall Renewal Energy that I always have - you know, that sense that it's another school year, everything's a blank slate and if you just apply yourself, you could really hit the big time as far as achieving your potential. It's the Back To School factor, which I have never quite shaken, some 20 years after school has ended for me.

So I'll keep you posted. Meantime, pray for me as I go for the gold this weekend. I will settle for bronze. Actually, a certificate saying I've completed the weekend would be fine.

Jul 15: Back on the ole Wagon Wheel

Okay, okay, my rebellious foray into stomach expansion has at last played itself out. I am still in the process of ascertaining exactly how much damage my little jaunt has wrought. I weighed myself on Saturday morning. It was not pretty. I was up 7 pounds from the day I flew out west (about a week and a half earlier), and that number was already up a few pounds from the birthday eatings. Of course a lot of it is water weight. I have dropped 5 pounds in the last 5 days of wagons east.

I am currently not at all interested in exercise. Last week it was sweltering, India-hot in Toronto. Since I was OTW anyway, why would I struggle through booty camp when instead I could make a beeline for air conditioning and pizza? (Um, how about, because it's better to sweat from exercise than from bloat? Yeah.)

I went to Booty Camp last night for the first time in 2 weeks. So much for the exercise motivation of not wasting money I've already spent on a class. Ah well. It was tough but not terrible. I was totally inspired by a new woman who is much heavier than me, toughing it out, finishing last in all of the cardio courses set out for us (run to certain point, do 5 pushups, run some more, do burpees, run up and down hill, do sit-ups, etc.) When I'm falling behind I just skip the pushups or whatever, but she was doing everything, no matter how long it took her. I thought, good on her. (Less so on me...) She and I were later partnered up for an insane exercise (one person is on the ground in pushup position, the other grabs pushup person's legs, sort of wheelbarrow style, and you have to do pushups with them holding your legs up. We both fell on our faces with every attempt) -- anyway, we both just congratulated each other on even BEING there and decided not to worry about keeping up with the January Joneses.

Tonight I am going to check out Aqua Fit at the Manulife Centre Good Life club. It's the only Good Life in Toronto with a pool, and it's only a 10 minute walk from my apartment. I thought I'd try something a little lower impact, in water no less, since my motivation to sweat is not what it has been in the past. (Well geez I sweat every day just walking to work!) Part of me feels guilty for "taking the easy way out" i.e. going to an exercise class for old ladies and fatties. Isn't that lame? Anyway, I realize my hubris will most likely splash water in my face when the old ladies kick my ass into the deep end tonight. We shall see.

What about y'all? Do you exercise in summer? How do you stay motivated? I go pretty easy on myself. Perhaps too easy, but then again, at least I come back to it eventually. What I lack in stamina I make up for in Sisyphusian determination. Or, inevitable anxiety about my ever-bulging pooch. Either way.

Jun 17: Just hey-sayin

Heya folks,

Yeah, I got nuthin. Last week I gained .4, so I am still clinging stubbornly to the 150s. It's fun here! You should try it. Have some ice cream. Or, some celery, depending. God aren't you sick of it? I know I am. At the same time, after awhile, I find I settle into a rhythm. I am sick of it mattering so much to me though. So I pretend that it doesn't. Fake it to make it. Sometimes that even works.

Booty Boot Camp fucking hurts like a motherfuck. Sorry Christians and under-agers, but it's the truth. Ah well. There is satisfaction in getting through a class, to be sure. I haaaate when I look around because I am taking a break when my gluteous is maximussed out, and I see all these skinny ...young ladies... still cheerily lifting their tiny asses off the ground. At such times I comfort myself with the fact that I am out there AT ALL. (Which I wasn't, yesterday. Sigh. I felt as though I'd cheated on my taxes or littered or something.)

On Monday I did 45 mins of cardio before Bootcamp, which I thought was superior work. I went to the gym for another 45 mins of cardio on Tuesday, and was set to repeat the pre-Bootcamp cardio last night, when suddenly I was hit with a wave of exhaustion. I went home with the intention of napping and then doing a run on the treadmill later in the evening instead. Anybody laying odds on how that worked out? (Tip: go for the safe bet.)

So tonight I have plans to do some sort of something or other. And tomorrow, glorious Summer Friday (my office has summer flex hours - we work 45 mins longer for 9 days and get the 10th off, i.e. every other Friday) my plan is to get out my beautiful, dusty Specialized bike (that's me posing with it during a bike tour of British Columbia in 2003) and go for a loooooong bike ride on Lake Ontario's glistening-if-you-don't-look-too-closely shoreline.

And then on Saturday I will get weighed in BUT I TOTALLY DON'T CARE IF I HIT THE 140s.

Have a great weekend fwiends.

Jun 9: Distortion

Fwiends, Womans, Countwymen!

How's everybody? I am a little bit shy, after posting my gearing up for change blog last week. Feels like, okay, I put it out there, so now I have to do it. Which... not really. Since posting it, I have retreated in a most typical fashion, resisting my own throw-down to self. That's okay. I recognize it as part of my process. Haven't picked up the Geneen Roth book since, either. I could get all mean and bully myself over it, but instead I find myself laughing gently as a parent does toward a child (or as a human companion does toward a cat). Oh, Lindsay! You silly girl! I say it to myself affectionately. Practicing kindness as best I can.

Meantime, for those who only pretend to be highly evolved and really want to know the numbers sitch, I have now lost 20.6 pounds. Last week I went in to JC all set to gain access to the long lost land of the 140s. Of course my body defied me and I lost .6, which put me at exactly 150. Fine, if that's the way you want to be about it, body... uh, okay. Next week. Or, the week after. Whatever. I'm highly evolved and don't care one whit.

On Monday I went to my first session of Booty Camp Fitness. I had my last [sniffle!!] session with Derek on Friday, so it was perfect timing. Booty Camp is for the ladeez only. It's twice a week in an outdoor setting and it seems designed to rip your quad muscles into shreds. Two days later, they are sore to the touch. I do know from the last time I did it that the soreness goes away after a couple of sessions. It is a brutal workout. They make Derek look like Roseanne. Anyway, that's the fitness update.

Okay, on to subject heading: today's blog is about uncertainty regarding body image. For as long as I can remember, I have not been able to pass a reflective surface of any kind without glancing over for reassurance and/or self-flagellation. It's humiliating to admit one's extreme vanity, but there it is. The thing is, I just can't tell. Sometimes I'm walking outside and I look in a darkened window and I'm like, hunh, not bad. Okay, you can pass for average. Next thing you know I am punished severely for my hubris by the bathroom mirror at work.

I know my measurements, and when I watch shows like Bulging Brides and The Last 10 Pounds Bootcamp, I see these women who have similar measurements to mine in their "before" stage, and to me they look pretty average. But I am so conditioned to think of myself as "the fat girl" that I don't trust what I see in the mirror (unless it's the distorted fat-view). And of course, I always factor in my height (5'2"). I might have similar measurements to the women on the shows I mentioned above, but if that's the case, I usually assume I'm 5 inches shorter than them. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. But when it comes to assessing where I sit on the spectrum of body types, I really honestly just do not know. I think that I must be fooling myself when I see a reflection that looks okay (if not fantastic).

I always used to say that my goal in wanting to lose weight is not to be super-skinny - I don't even entertain the notion anymore. I just want to be able to walk down the street and feel like I am average. "Not fat." Like, if someone were to casually glance at me, they would not mentally classify me as overweight. (Spoken like a person who does this to everyone else she passes on the street. Urgh.)

At the first session of Booty Boot Camp two nights ago, I scanned the group of about 30 women, vainly searching for someone with lumps and imperfections. (Most of the women there were about 15-20 years younger than me and looked the way I'd hope to look in my "after" picture.) I was relieved to spot a few, and even more relieved that, actually, I didn't really care all that much. I'm out there, challenging myself, working just as hard as any of the other women. Some of us may have a little futher to go. Some of us may never reach the "destination". I think part of "getting ready to get ready" is letting go of this false destination, and re-setting my sights on a more fulfilling goal. I suspect if I ever find a way to absorb the Geneen Roth message, it won't matter. I will accept my body.

Not there yet. Not even close. But... closer than I used to be. And that's good enough for now.