Tag Archives: fearless

by

DAY 193: Eraced

On account of expected crazy rain this weekend, my 4.01K has been “postponed.”

I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t relieved.  I never made it past the “run 2 miles” training session in the C25K program, and I’m feeling generally exhausted.  I’ve been working too much at work and working too much at home, and mama needs some sleep.  Plus, it’s nice to have a day of my weekend back to try and recoup before having to launch right into the next week.  Even though it was the shortest distance race that I’ve ever heard of, I wasn’t ready for it, and I’m glad I don’t have to be mad at myself for either flaking out or not being able to run as much of it as I wanted to.  Hopefully, if/by the time it’s rescheduled, I’ll be in better physical condition to meet my own expectations in it.  (Equally hopefully, my schedule will permit me to participate on the new date!)

I’m also not disappointed that my race is off this weekend because… I think my heel spur is on the way out.  It may have even already healed.  With that terribly annoying injury potentially eliminated, I want to be careful not to resurrect it.  It would probably be a good idea to give my feet a bit of a rest for a few more days.

By way of another quick update, the first Diet Bet I ever hosted recently closed, and I just barely eked out a win.  Hosting well is no joke, and it wound up being more time consuming than I’d imagined, but that was because of my own meticulousness and the type of game it was.  I think most people had a good time playing, though, and I know that several got close to their goals and/or busted through plateaus while playing, so that makes it all worth it!  I had a lot of fun hosting (in spite of what may have just sounded like complaints0, and I look forward to being able to do it again before too long.  For the near future, though, I’m taking a hiatus from DB.

I’m still in a kickstarter (that ends next week) and 2 transformers (of which one is ending in 2 weeks), which I feel I can handle because the monthly loss percentages are lower than the kickstarters, so I’m by no means leaving the community.  For practical reasons, I have to take a break because I won’t be able to weigh in while traveling internationally late this month into early November.  I also want to be able to enjoy that trip instead of worrying about being absent from a website, so it’s a good time for a sabbatical.  Beyond that, judging by nothing but the way my body has changed over the last couple of weeks, I believe I’m in the midst of a change in fat-to-muscle ratio that accounts for the slowdown I’ve hit recently.  That means I’m still losing fat, but it’s not reflecting as a loss on the scale because of the increased muscle mass.  It’s fantastic, but not the right scenario in which to be betting money on averaging a 1% drop in weight every week.

NOTHING IS CHANGING, THOUGH!  I’m still 100% in this.  I will still be interacting on DB and I will still be blogging like a crazy old cat lady with stories to tell.  More importantly, I will still be eating the right things and taking care of myself.  I will fit into more oh-honey clothes.  I will wear my new skinny jeans in public.  I will shake my shit at Zumba.  I will work my muscles.  I will elevate my heart rate.  I will get enough sleep.  I will drink enough water.  I will be BFF with Jiminy.  I will have a happy birthday.  I will lose inches.  I will lose weight.

When my race is rescheduled, with any luck, I will jog it!

by

DAY 163: Working out is working out for me!

I had two BFD-NSVs at the gym today:

  1. I hit a personal best on the weight loss setting of the elliptical.  The weight loss setting is intervals for 28 minutes:  4 minutes on cross ramp 4 at low resistance, 4 minutes on cross ramp 10 (the highest level) at high resistance, repeat until a 5-minute cool-down (which I use as an opportunity to run like hell instead of to wind down).  It makes me sweat like a mofo while getting in cardio AND some toning in the legs, butt, and arms.  I usually net around 3 miles in the 33 minutes of exercise.  Tonight, I shattered my “usual” and beat my former personal best of 3.19 by .02 of a mile.  My new personal best:  3.21!  I’d love to work up to 3.25 by the end of the year.  It sounds like it should be easy, but it won’t be.  That extra .02, I KILLED for it.  I’m surprised I didn’t make the elliptical take off and fly away for all the noise it was making going at the top speed I hit!
  2. I jogged tonight.  I mean, REAL jogging.  I haven’t jogged more than 90 seconds in at least 5 years, so this is HUGE.  In the spring, I was doing a little jogging on the treadmill, but it always left me sore the next day — I was still too big to be putting that kind of stress on my joints.  All these pounds later, I’m finally working up the nerve to start visiting the treadmill in a non-walking capacity again.  Tonight was apparently the night.  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline from reaching my new elliptical PB or just that I was excited that I got the gym earlier than usual and had some extra time to squeeze in more cardio before it was time to go home, but I looked at the treadmill tonight and had a you-don’t-look-so-tough moment.  “I’m gonna jog for five minutes,” I told myself.  And then, I just did it.  WHAT?

Something kind of weird/cool linked my workouts tonight.  First of all, it’s worth noting that they almost didn’t happen; I let myself fall victim to gymtimidation more often than I should.  Tonight, there was a row of skinny girls casually using the ellipticals while flipping through fashion magazines and not breaking a sweat, all without headphones in.  I might have immediately abandoned my plans for the elliptical tonight had the ONE that was still available not been one with the moving handlebars.  I told myself, “You know what?  Let’s show these pretty girls what a real workout looks like.”

They were gone 5 minutes later.

Then, of course, a headphoneless DUDE got on the machine RIGHT BESIDE ME and started his work-out.  I started feeling self-conscious again, but then I thought, “Oh, you wanna get all up next to me while I’m working here?  OK, fella.  I’m gonna outlast you.”

And I did.

In the last 2 minutes of my run, which were the most intense because I had decided to break my previous PB at that point, another pretty girl hopped on beside me.  This time, I grinned smugly to my sweaty reflection in the machine and amped my legs into overdrive.  At the end of the workout, all self-consciousness was gone.  When I saw 3.21 on the display, I raised my arms in the air in a victory pose.  I didn’t even notice if anyone looked at me funny for doing that.

Right after that, I grabbed a treadmill all the way against the wall, with one person directly in front of me doing her own run.  I noticed 2 minutes into my jog that that person was raising her arms in a victory pose every 60 seconds.  Oddly, that helped me keep going.

Oh, and the patron saint of women was watching me the whole time from the tray on my treadmill:

FullSizeRender

Someone had left a Rosie the Riveter sticker behind — with the backing still covering the adhesive portion.  After my successful jog, I stuck it in the front cover of my exercise log book (pictured).

OK, universe.  I hear you!  I’m raising my own bar.

Let’s lose some more weight, shall we?

by

DAY 153: Halftime

I can hardly believe it, but not too long ago, I reached the halfway point of my mission.

I had originally envisioned reaching this significant milestone sometime around my birthday in October, but I hit it more than two months ahead of schedule.  (As a lifelong overachiever, I’m pretty stoked about that.)  I had long planned to commemorate hitting the halfway point with something equally meaningful and that, like getting healthy, I have also always wanted to do:  get a single piercing in a non-lobe part of my ear.  Very early into my weight loss, I decided that for my birthday this year, I would give myself halfway-to-goal weight as a present, and finally put that coveted extra hole in my head.

Well, my body had other ideas.  It decided to scorch that timetable and reassign some of the meaning of the piercing.  (NO PROBLEM THERE!)

In July, when I knew halftime was imminent, my BFF from high school and I had a conversation in which we organically decided to go together so that she could get the two new tattoos she wanted and I could get the new piercing I wanted.  By coincidence, her two tattoos are each behind one of her ears, so there’s a bit of a friendship-bracelet aspect to my piercing now, too.  Between our competing and overbooked traveling schedules this summer, the soonest we could get in for our planned body defacements was this past Friday.  And we got ‘er done.

IMG_2271

This piercing represents a binding contract:  No turning back.

This jewelry represents a binding contract:  Live with strength.

When I was choosing the stud for the piercing, I was torn between this one and a white-gold star.  The star had obvious symbolism (I’m a star! *eye roll*) and was less expensive.  I was drawn to this triangular cluster of three circles immediately, though.  I ultimately chose it over the star because I think it best represents the person I want to be and believe I am becoming: feminine and strong.  There’s nothing dainty about this earring, but it’s classic, elegant, and distinctly feminine.  In terms of the shape, circles have no beginning or end, they just keep going — I’ve got to just keep going.  My favorite thing, though, is the triangle that those circles form.  I recently heard an interview with an architect on a podcast I listen to, where the architect said that the triangle is the strongest shape because each side can bear an equal load, and even when one side bears more, its other two legs are capable of supporting it so it won’t collapse.  I found that interesting at the time — interesting enough to remember it many weeks later — but I didn’t attach any additional meaning to that sound byte until it came back to me as I was selecting my jewelry.  I smile every time I catch a glimmer of my new earring in the mirror and I think of that.

So, I have pierced the moment at halftime.  I’m never going back to that pathetic train wreck I was before.  In femininity and strength, I have been reborn.

The best part about being halfway there is, I know I’ve got this now.  When I first started, I had no idea if I would be able to see it through to the end this time.  There was a great deal of ground to be covered, and I had to completely change everything about the way I was living to make it possible to cover any of it.  It was a daunting task, and one I’ve run from before.  For whatever wonderful reason, though, I got down this time.  I got strong.  I got disciplined.  I got tough.  I got fearless.

I know I can lose this last half of the weight because, well, I’ve already done it once.  “I can’t” is the least valid it’s ever been.  I can’t NOTHING.

That’s pretty damn exciting.

by

DAY 149: Sore loser

Somehow, I have lost a respectable amount of weight over the past two weeks of ZERO GYM TIME WHATSOEVER.  Now that things are calm again and I am home bound for the next month, it’s past time to reincorporate and reprioritize my workouts into my daily routine.  So, last night, I went to the gym for the first time since August 5th.

WOW, you can lose strength quickly.

I did my usual self-designed circuit of arm weights, and everything felt noticeably heavier.  On top of that, I am sore today!  I haven’t been sore since the very first week I started doing strength training, and that was when everything was considerably lighter and I was considerably more out of shape.  I hope the weight I got rid of in gym absentia was really fat and not muscle mass!  (I mean, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, but still.)  I’ve actually felt strangely guilty for having lost weight during my two weeks of vacation brain and OKCupid-ing, like I was somehow cheating by managing to drop the pounds while putting in almost no effort.  There’s fun, satisfaction, and pride in having earned it, ya know?  It feels a little cheap when it just goes away because you hit your steps goal.  NOT THAT I’M COMPLAINING.  OH MY GOD, BODY, DON’T CHANGE A THING.

Well, my arms have exactly one day to recover, because they’re getting werqed tomorrow, too.  Also tomorrow, I’m reuniting with the elliptical for the first time in 2 weeks.  I copped out yesterday because I had to get home by a certain time to meet a friend, and I avoided losing time to the shower by choosing strength over cardio.  😉

Incidentally, the friend I met up with last night has been effusive lately with the weight-loss praise.  She’s been telling me I’m pretty, I look great, I’m inspiring her, I’m this, I’m that, blah blah blah.  Well, it’s no secret that I don’t accept compliments well, particularly when it’s in person and from someone I care about, so she called me out on it when we were hanging out.  This is someone who usually struggles with being direct, and says it’s something she’s learning from me how to do.   This is also someone who has allowed me into her scary spaces, and I have not done the same with her.  I was cognizant of all of that in the moment, and thinking that I owed her the chance to understand me the way I understand her, and I thought, “You know what? It’s fearless time. Let’s go there.”

We ended up talking about the weight loss, the emotional sides of it, and why I’m so miserably awful at taking praise.  We also talked about dating, and how she couldn’t understand why I was shutting down and not trying harder with guys.  She kept saying I would have to get comfortable with attention from men because I’m only going to get more attractive as I lose weight and gain confidence, so why not get used to it with someone I’m not that into so the stakes stay low?  She said that in her experience, it’s empowering to snag a man when she’s not feeling that great about herself.

When she finished her rap, I explained that I know myself, and her approach is not gonna work for me.  First of all, I’m not gonna play with someone’s emotions to temporarily feel marginally better about myself physically (and that actually doesn’t do it for me, anyway), so that’s off the table.  Second of all, I told her I’ve been busting my ass the last few months trying to fall in love with myself.  It sounds corny as hell, but I need that to come from me, not from some man.  I’m the only one who’s gonna be with me until the day I die, and if I can’t truly say I love myself, what does it matter how many men said they did?  I haven’t felt like my real self in years.  YEARS.  I’m just now rediscovering my own worth.  It’s too fragile and too delicate for me to be misdirecting that emotional energy into another person, and getting my self-perception all tangled up in his perception of me.  I am NOT there, and I’m not gonna force myself to get there.  When I’m ready, I’ll know.  I trust that.  When I’m ready but I’m dragging my feet, I’ll know that, too, and I’ll push myself.  I trust that.  I’ve taught myself how.

Somehow, I got through that entire conversation without crying.  I got dangerously close, but I didn’t cry.  Crying is for people who are sad.  I am not sad.  I am hopeful.

When that part of the conversation came to a close, my friend looked at me, smiled, and said, “I’m not worried about you.”

I distinctly remember touching my collar bones when I replied, “I’m not worried about me, either.”

So, the emotional muscles are also getting werqed, but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore.

by

DAY 32: “So fearless”

*DISCLAIMER:  This is some real and personal stuff, and if you don’t enjoy borderline sappy things, just stop reading now.**

At some family function (Thanksgiving?) within the last 2 or 3 years, my dad and I were watching his digital picture frame rotate through a collection of photos he’d created to display for the gathering.  After a couple of minutes, a photo of the two of us together popped up on the screen.  I was about 18 months old, holding onto the handles of a full-sized slide that I was climbing up, my dad standing behind me and helping me up with a gigantic smile covering his entire face.  As soon as the picture appeared, that same smile seemed to spring through the decades and find its way onto my dad’s face again.  He looked at me and said proudly, almost in awe, “You were so fearless.”

I bet my dad doesn’t even remember this moment, but I think about it all the time.  I mean, all. The. Time.  I was so fearless.  I recently found another old picture of myself, happiest toddler in the world, jumping carelessly off a 4-foot ledge in my backyard. I’m not even looking down.  I don’t care where or how I land; I know it’s going to happen, and I know I’m going to be fine.  I’m not scared of anything.  It’s not even an emotion I seem capable of feeling.

Somewhere along the way, I buried that fearlessness.  I gave in to fear of all types.  Fear of rejection.  Fear of failure.  Fear of getting hurt.  Fear of disappointing others.  Fear was never supposed to win, and yet it has been.  I haven’t even been putting up a fight.

Until now.

What is there to be afraid of?  I’m losing the battle simply by letting myself have those fears.  Those fears have been standing in the way, and I’ve been letting them.  Worst of all, I’m hiding behind this fat I’ve put on as some sort of messed-up armor that keeps people from getting too close and inflcting on me everything I’ve been so damn afraid of.  What kind of a life is that for anyone?  It’s certainly not the life my proud, beaming father wanted for his baby girl boldly climbing up the slide all those years ago, and I know it’s not the life he likes seeing me have now.  It’s absolutely not the life I have ever wanted for myself.

I’ve always known what I want from life, and I’ve always been the reason I don’t have it.  I want adventure.  I want happiness.  I want fun.  I want love.  I want a husband to share my life with.  I want my parents to be grandparents to my children, whom I hope I will one day look back on photos with at a family function and marvel over their fearlessness.  But first, I have to redisover my own.

It’s coming.  The only thing I have to lose is the weight, and you better believe that’s happening now, and it’s never coming back.

I’m about to become so fearless.