When Angie and I were in the depths of our holiday binge-fest recently, she made the following comment while we were driving home from a buffet: "I am so sick of food."
I was too. Strange, how the thing I'm most addicted to can cause such a dichotomy of emotions within me. The more unhealthy garbage I ate, the less I enjoyed it. Each Big Mac tasted progressively less yummy than the last, yet I couldn't seem to stop myself. At that point, I believe it was pure addiction, and not true desire, that was driving me.
I often find myself wishing I could be stranded on a deserted island. Hopefully, I'd have ice skates and a volleyball like Tom Hanks did...but there's one thing I wouldn't have, and that's the ability to make food choices. Coconuts? Crab? Raw fish? Bring it on. But please, oh please, don't let there be Golden Arches on my island.
America is a country with a lot of freedom. Sure- there's life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to contend with. But, we also have the freedom to get really fat, to get diabetes and heart disease, and to let our addictions to various things control our lives. I'm grateful for all these freedoms- even the ones that lead to negative consequences. I would hate to take the Right to Drive-Thru away from anyone. But I sometimes wish I could take it away from myself.
I'm feeling pretty damn proud of myself today.
I've managed to not only avoid unhealthy foods, but I've actually enjoyed the nutritious things I ate today. I started the day with a huge smoothie with skim milk, fat free vanilla yogurt, frozen strawberries, and whey protein. Seems like I'm one of the last people to jump on the whey wagon, but I'm glad I finally did.
My big accomplishment for the day was that I ran 3 miles tonight. I think the last time I did that was about 2 months ago. Then, I tried out the new Biggest Loser Yoga DVD, which was tough but very enjoyable. (The plank pose can kiss my ass, however.)
In other news, my training for the Oklahoma City Marathon officially began today. Now that I know I can actually run, I feel a little more confident about getting back in the game. Heh.
Yeah, so it's been a while.
The past several weeks have been filled with food, drink, gluttony, and total ambivalence. I can't even tell you how many times I went through the drive through, how many beers I drank, and how many hours I sat on the couch. I also can't tell you how many pounds I've gained, because I've avoided the scale just as much as I've avoided the treadmill. I do know, however, that I'm currently wearing size 16 pants.
The scariest part is that I didn't really care until a couple days ago.
Angie and I were at a local restaurant for lunch. As we sat in our booth, I perused the menu and wondered whether to have a cheeseburger and fries or a salad. I opted for the salad. Granted, it had pieces of fried chicken, bacon, and shredded cheese. But hey- roughage and all, right?
That's when I started to feel strange. I was sweating bullets and I couldn't breathe. Everything faded to white and I couldn't hear anything. Then I passed out, right there in the booth. Angie later told me I was shaking while I was unconscious. When I woke up a few seconds later, all I wanted to do was get outside, into the cool winter air. Stupidly, I got on my feet and made my way toward the door. Almost made it, too. Right as I was about to reach the door, I collapsed near a booth of ladies. I awoke and a woman was patting my back and repeating "Are you okay, honey?"
"Oh, I wound up on the floor? How embarrassing," I replied in my stupor. I kept apologizing as Angie and the hostess helped me outside and handed me a glass of ice water. I took off all my extra layers and my shoes and took in the water like I hadn't had any in months.
I don't know exactly why I fainted twice in the middle of a Houlihan's, but I know that I have to fucking get real. Right now.
Yesterday, I got reacquainted with that lovely wagon that I've avoided for so long. It was tough. Today was worse, because my body realized I wasn't giving it all the sugar it was used to. It rebelled by giving me a monster headache and a bitchy attitude. I don't care, though. I don't want to die.
When a new season of The Biggest Loser started tonight, I knew it was a sign from the diet and exercise gods that I needed to test my fitness. I put on my workout clothes and noticed right away how much my body has really changed. The treadmill looked at me with surprise as I approached. "Oh, you're back, huh? You think you can just walk all over me after not talking to me for months?" If treadmills could talk, that's what mine would have said tonight. Nevertheless, I got on and was happily surprised to learn I can still run a mile.
So here I am. I'm still planning on rejoining my running group later this month and training for the Oklahoma City Marathon in April.
Here we go. In the words of the great PastaQueen: "Oh really, let's just fucking do this already!"
Woot woot!
I'm sorry I've been one of those bad bloggers lately. The truth is, I've felt a total lack of inspiration. Every time I sit down to write a post, I've stared at the screen with a blank brain. It's frustrating.
As for the fight to stay healthy and fit, I'm not giving up. I've fallen off the wagon more times than I can count lately. And, since the marathon, my exercise has been sporadic at best. I keep looking back to the first weeks and months of my weight loss and wondering how the hell I found the motivation.
It's a tough time of year to be healthy. The wind chills are dropping, while the amount of sweet treats are rising everywhere. I can't seem to escape the gluttony and hedonism that is so prevalent during the holiday season.
When I saw Oprah's latest cover, I felt really, really bad for her. Here's a woman who is worth more money than I can even comprehend. Millions of people worship her and think she should run for president. She can have anything she wants...almost. The fact that, yet again, she wasn't able to maintain her weight loss proved that money can't buy everything. Even with my paycheck-to-paycheck lifestyle, I have something in common with Oprah Winfrey. So many of us do.
I'm still not giving up. As of this moment, I am recommitting myself to a healthy lifestyle. I ran a freaking marathon. I can do this.
Let me get this off my chest before I go any further... I've been off the wagon for a while now.
I've been exercising very sporadically, and my diet has been... less than healthy. I'm sure I've gained more weight back, but I'm not freaking out. Thanks to my therapy sessions, I've started to learn that my worth doesn't depend on how much I weigh, or what size I am.
With that said, I'm not giving up. I still want to get back on the horse, but it's not about weight anymore. Now it's about health. Before, my weight loss was all about how I looked. I never appreciated all the positive changes that were taking place inside. My cholesterol was down, my glucose levels were great, and I felt wonderful. With every breath, I could feel the oxygen moving through my body.
I'll be back with my running group in mid-January, at which time I'll begin training for the Oklahoma City Marathon. Yup, that's right. I'm going to do another marathon. I think it will really help me to have a big goal like that on the horizon.
It's about health, not weight!
I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. Apart from eating too much, I had a very pleasant few days off work.
A real post will come soon, but for now I wanted to let you know I'm alive.
Yesterday I ran the Gobbler Grind half marathon. The weather forecast was calling for another chilly morning, so I put on pretty much the same outfit I wore for the previous weekend's race.
Angie and I drove out to the race site and met with Pritha, Ellen, Mandy, and Michelle. We were all looking forward to a light, easy run. I was going to treat it as a fun run, not worrying about setting any personal records.
We started off at a very slow pace to get warmed up. After that, we all went at our own speed. Pritha, who always has a secret goal in mind, cruised ahead. Mandy and I settled into a comfortable pace and spent the entire race together. Ellen and Michelle were close behind us. It was a really pleasant course; most of it was spent on park trails.
After about 8 or 9 miles, we weren't talking much. When the chatter stops, this usually means that we want it to be over. Mandy and I crossed the finish line together, with a time of 2 hours and 30 minutes. We met up with Angie and Pritha (who set a PR), and watched Ellen and Michelle cross the finish line.
I was standing around the finish area, when I was approached by a guy I'd never met before. His name was Jared, and he said he was a fan of the blog and wanted to introduce himself. This was the first time I'd ever been "recognized" because of my blog, and I must admit it felt absolutely wonderful.
Now I just need the paparazzi to follow me around. And a posse. You can't be a celebrity without a posse.
