Tag Archives: gym

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DAY 196: A waist is a terrible thing to mind

Sleep is so freaking important.

My body is very demanding about getting enough rest.  The sleep deprivation during my trip where the scale went up certainly had more to do with that unwelcome fluke than any other part of the equation.  I should have realized that was what was actually going on; I’ve had previous incidents of no movement on the scale that happened to coincide with weeks where I was not sufficiently rested.  This past weekend, with my race called off and my days occupied by a labor-intensive and time-consuming sewing project underway — honestly, can’t I ever pick something within my skill range?! — I am not ashamed to say I went to bed at 7:30 PM on Saturday night.  I slept 13 hours.  I needed every minute.  I also netted less mileage over those two days than I typically get in one day.  I needed every non-step.

Today, in spite of my oncoming “woman times” (Tina Fey, holla) and my near total inaction over the weekend, the scale gave up the pounds.  Yes, in one fell swoop.  Just like magic:  WOOSH, gone.

I don’t know why I keep falling victim to forgetting the most basic rule of all of this:  LISTEN TO YOUR BODY.  I know the difference between my body telling me it’s tired and my mind trying to laze out of a work-out.  I need to remember to act like it!

Beyond that, I need to check my self-competitiveness a little bit.  I keep wanting to shatter the daily goals Jiminy gives me.  Well, Jiminy knows best.  He’ll work me up to a higher goal when I need to set my sights higher.  For right now, hitting the goal is enough.  Over-exercising isn’t a fast track to weight loss in my case; it’s a counter-productive practice that just makes my body more tired and, consequently, more likely to hold on to the fat I’m trying to burn off.  I’m sorry, Jiminy.  You are my conscience, and I must always let you be my guide.  **bows humbly to the almighty VivoFit**

Finally, I have to keep exercise in a category of positive associations.  If I let it start becoming a stressful thing, it negates all the emotional, mental, and physical benefits it’s meant to produce.  Exercise has become my release at the end of the day for all the frustrating messes I deal with at work, my outlet for emotional sorting, and my solace from the people and things that would otherwise eat me alive.  I have to keep it in the sweet spot of being challenging, but not too difficult as to become another source of frustration; sacred, but not so obsessively that I become a slave to it.  It’s true what they say about us Libras:  we’re all about that balance, ’bout that balance (no trouble).

And now… sleep.  I’ve got a Diet Bet to win.  😀

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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!

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DAY 187: The right to bare arms

Somewhere along the line, losing weight stopped being my singular focus.  That goal now shares equal billing with becoming athletic, being healthy, and feeling great.

I’ve only come to realize that recently.  It’s been great that my mindset has shifted that way; it has allowed me to notice and appreciate the changes in my body beyond the shrinking I’m looking for.  My legs are leaner and stronger.  My shoulders are defined.  My complexion is clear (and I’ve been told my skin is “glowing”).  My butt is developing a more booty-licious shape.  (Oh, yeah.  I said it.)  The coolest part, though, is what’s happening to my arms.

Remember my villain beard?  I still absently stroke my collar bones, but I’ve added a new target:  my arms.  I run my fingers over the newly toned muscles that are poking out of them.  I twist them into unnatural positions to admire their contours.  I even gawk at them in mirrors on the rowing machines to marvel at the way the definition changes as different muscles are engaged.  I’m probably gonna have bat wings the rest of my life, but the changes I’m seeing are so pronounced (to me) that I can’t help but stare at them.  It’s like if I blink, they might go back to the way they were.  What’s crazy is, they aren’t even done yet!

This may seem an unlikely transitional point, but it brings me to a frustrating experience I had at my new gym yesterday.  I was doing my customary 15-minute warm-up on the elliptical, which usually nets me about 1.3 miles.  I tend to speed up as I go, but it’s become my natural, comfortable pace rather than pushing.  My legs just go.  I had my normal gym gear on, the most important component of which is my headphones.  Those are usually the universal symbol for DO NOT APPROACH, but they misfired last night.  All of a sudden, I had a trainer standing beside my machine and moving her lips at me in a way that annoyingly did not sync up with what was playing in my ears.  To be polite, I took out an ear bud and asked what she had said.

Trainer:  You’re moving really fast!  Do you always go that fast?
Me:  I guess so.  It doesn’t feel that fast.
Trainer:  Do you keep up that pace the whole time?  How do you do that?
Me:  Well, I mean… have you SEEN these beastly legs?  (Subtext:  Go appreciate them from the other side of the gym.)
Trainer, missing the joke and the subtext:  What else do you do at the gym?
Me:  After this mile, I’ll go to the treadmill.
Trainer:  The elliptical and the treadmill?!
Me:  …Yeah…
Trainer:  What else?
Me:  …
Trainer:  What else do you do at the gym?
Me:  …I do arms every other day.
Trainer:  On the machines?
Me:  …Yeah…
Trainer:  That’s it?!
Me, annoyed at this point from the prolonged interruption and then the inferred insult following the earlier praise:  Yeah.  That’s it.
Trainer:  Wow.  Well, come find me when you’re ready to do more.
Me, putting my ear bud back in:  Oh, yeah, I’ll do that.

Interestingly, the gym happened to contact me via e-mail this morning with a random member satisfaction survey specifically about yesterday’s workout.  They limited the “other” comments field to only 500 characters, so I had to sum up that entire interaction in an unreasonably small space, but I communicated that they really need to discourage their trainers from chatting people up while they’re working (not working OUT — working), especially if it’s to attempt to solicit new training clients by backhandedly insulting them, unintentionally or not.  I’m sure this woman was well meaning and just misguided in her attempt to “help” me, but that was highly annoying.  I told the gym that I found her approach aggressive, offensive, and inappropriate.  I know she has no way of knowing it, but I’ve spent the last 6 months working hard at losing weight on my own, and I know what the fuck I’m doing.  I don’t need some “expert” rando — who knows nothing about me — coming up to me and critiquing my apparently inadequate fitness regimen, least of all mid-workout.  It’s bad enough when other gym people try to talk to me while I’m working out.  Trainers should know better.

/end rant/

That being said, though, I think I’m doing just fine.  My arms and collar bones certainly think so.

*smug villain-beard stroke*