Friday, July 27, 2018

Starting My Morning as a Hamster

 

Fit-Bit convinced us to work out with her at 8 a.m. this morning; I don't mind, but Mimosa has a teen-like approach to sleep and prefers to rise at an hour that start with a 10. Eight a.m. is a hard sell. But we did it — which is probably a good thing, since it's so hot and muggy in Arlington today, we had a full-body sheen of sweat just from the five-minute car ride.
  • Front-Desk Dan: How are you doing today?
  • Me: I'm hot and sweaty and grumpy, Dan, thank you.
  • Front-Desk Dan: If you're already sweaty, I think it's only going to get worse for you.
  • Me: Great pep talk, Dan! Clearly you were hired for your warm people skills.
Love my gym!

Though my last zumba class hurt my back, and I've been so spooked that I haven't returned. Last week I asked Fit-Bit about Zumba Gold (old-lady zumba), and she pointed out Scary Head Honcho, the woman we always hear bellowing at her spin classes, and said, "You need to ask her."

Okayyyyyy . . . maybe tomorrow. SCARY lady.

But I saw her today, standing alone, and the moment seemed right.
  • Me: Hi — has anyone ever asked you about Zumba Gold?
  • Scary Head Honcho: Are you asking for your mother???
So then I shrank a few inches . . . but to my surprise, Scary Head Honcho is actually a sweetheart, and we had the best talk! She recommended the Tuesday morning class, which goes at a slightly slower pace, and I will definitely check it out after my return from Minnesota next week. Exciting! I've been thinking that I should return to zumba, and this gives me more incentive.

And then . . .
  • Scary Head Honcho: And you should totally try spinning! I think you would love it!
  • Me (gesturing toward my crotch — you know, daintily): I have a delicate ladygarden. Bikes are so hurty!
  • Scary Head Honcho: Tell me about it! [She speaks only in exclamation points] But we work around it! C'mon, stop by sometime, give it a chance!
I promised I would.

Little did I know . . .

Scary Head Honcho came up to us toward the end of our workout, introduced herself to Mimosa, and said, "Why don't you come in for a few minutes when you're done with Fit-Bit?" We usually end our workouts on the bike, so I guess this would be comparable . . .

So we did it. We spun. For a whole song!


And I'm proud of myself for trying something new, but I don't think spinning is for me. The room is very small, sweaty, and stinky — and also, OUCH. My ladygarden was practically bisected. I would like to curl up with a iced groin pack and a bottle of Motrin. And a margarita.

 

Well, doesn't that sound like a perfect morning!

Scary Head Honcho is super nice, though. She didn't yell at us for leaving early, and she promised to give us a one-on-one session and help the bike seat be less hurty for us. I think she will be hard to say no to. She is super nice and super persuasive! Time will tell.

And I think I have to change her name because she's really not scary at all. She's a tough chick, for sure, but so charming about it, I really want to please her! Magnetic, forceful, dynamic? I'll work on it.

Today is going to be great. I have no editing work scheduled, woo-hoo! Mimosa and I are running some errands, including dropping off her resume at a new Arlington business that I have extremely high hopes for. OMG, a job at last . . . well, we'll see. And then I have a whole free afternoon to write a lesson for the Old Testament curriculum I'm working on; it's Joseph, Part 2, and Joseph is my favorite Old Testament character. This curriculum is hard work, but I'm having fun with it. And then an easy dinner: ham steaks, corn on the cob, coleslaw, and a fresh fruit plate.

Nothing but good times ahead!

There's a sign on the wall of my gym that says, "You are only one workout away from a good mood," and I am finding that to be true. It feels so good when I stop!!!!!

xox
Lady C

Friday, July 20, 2018

Weighing In

 

Word of love from my dearest Brunie (in an e-mail exchange whose subject line is "People are f---ing idiots"):
Also, write in your f---ing blog. 
I get so sad when I go to check and you are still bitching about July 4.
If you can't think of anything to write about, write about me. I'm endlessly fascinating.
Can't wait to see you!!
Of course, she has THREE blogs and hasn't posted in a one of 'em since Hector was a pup, but I point no fingers.

I started to write this blog post a week ago but can't seem to get past that jazzy title. I feel utterly weighed down, by a number of things:
  • My daughter's depression and her continuing inability to get a job (what the hell, people?? Someone hire my daughter!!). It's like her resume goes into a black hole . . . And trying not to be affected by her mood takes huge reservoirs of strength and resilience on my part. I don't cry every day like I used to, which is progress — but sister, I am exhausted.
  • Way too many people in my life are dealing with terrible, awful events — horrible diseases, depression and despair, even death — and my bucket of compassion is completely drained. I want to be a good friend, but when I hear their stories now I just feel numb. There is some bad juju out there right now, I don't know why so many good people are suffering.
  • I am exhausted and numb, but I still have all this freaking work to do!!
  • And it's hot and everyone in my family is home, lounging all day long, which is irritating a.f. 
 
  • And — I have hardly lost a damn pound.
Seriously! I've been at this for weeks and months, faithfully working out, pushing myself constantly, never eating second helpings of dinner no matter how delicious it is . . . I can't think of the last time I had a fast food meal or a piece of candy. I barely drink diet soda any more, I'm a water girl.

Mimosa and I weigh in with Fit-Bit every month or so, and I certainly have lost weight since I started working out with her in December (and doing two Whole Life Challenges) — but over the last two months the scale needle has barely moved.

I quoted someone in my blog a long time ago, though I can't remember her exact words, but about weight loss she said something like, "Never in my life have I worked so hard at something with so little to show for it." That is exactly how I feel.

And here's the thing: Am I working as hard as I possibly could? Do I do a sweaty challenging workout every single day? Are my portions dramatically smaller? Have I cut out alcohol?

And the answer to all these questions is no, I have not done that, nor do I want to.
No starving for this girl! As God is my witness!
But:
  • I believe I am eating mostly healthy foods in portions that seem reasonable to me. I am not very dedicated about logging my food on FatSecret, but when I do, I am well within the calorie limits they've established for me and I always hit my personal fiber goal, which is relatively high.
  • I try to "move" every day. If I don't go to the gym, I aim for a walk or some sweaty yardwork. However, I think my average is more like 4 or 5 days out of 7. Some days, I just can't fit it in. But I am doing way more, movement-wise than I have done for years.
  • I am drinking exactly as much alcohol as I want to drink. Sorry, I will not give up my wine for anything.
Bottom line: I would like to lose weight, but I'm really not interested in being miserable in the process.

So maybe this is it for me. Maybe this is the "smallest" I will ever be — though I will continue to work out and increase my strength, endurance, and flexibility.

And today, frankly, I'm okay with that. Maybe I'll feel differently tomorrow.

Today should be awesome, in fact! It's much less hot and humid, I have only a short job to finish this morning and no other work on my plate (that will change literally tomorrow, but I'll think about tomorrow tomorrow), and I have so many fun outings planned: Brunie and I are meeting at the movies to see Mamma Mia – The One Without Meryl, Mostly!, then having dinner at our favorite place, Chianti, and then watching a live version of Peter Pan, which will likely put us both to sleep but the music is very pretty so our dreams will be sweet. Many of these events will include cocktails. Maybe I'll do some isometrics during the movie.
Very old friends! Just like me and Brunie.
And also, being out of town all day means my family can sleep till noon and then lie on the various couches until my return, and I'll never know or care. Go wild, family.

It's also payday, woo-hoo! And the $1K check from Coldwater Creek I've been waiting for will likely come today! (Their checks tend to come the day after I've driven by my bank, which is in Lexington; the Creek is uncanny that way.) The only bright side of all this freaking work is the money money money (which is going to pay our IRS bill and my $500 car insurance deductible, but I won't think about that today).

Oh, here's a story I wanted to tell you about the gym. When we get there early and Fit-Bit isn't ready for us yet, Mimosa and I have learned that we need to get to work right away; otherwise, one of the trainers comes over and nicely yells at us. So we're on the treadmill, watching our fitness idol Tiny Sara working out in front of us on the StairMaster (Tiny Sara is another trainer; she's two feet tall and has arms of steel, we worship her), and I said to Mimosa, "Watching her little butt go up those stairs is very inspiring." I told Tiny Sara this afterward, and she laughed and asked if we ever did the StairMaster. Fit-Bit grew very nervous and said no, she doesn't like it, one of her clients went flying off it once, but Sara said we should try it, she thinks we'd like it and it would be good for us, and we should start at Level 4.
  • Me: Tiny Sara, I want to start at Level 1.
  • Tiny Sara: At Level 1, there's no resistance, you'll spin around like you're on a hamster wheel. Trust me.
The next time I was at the gym by myself, I remembered my fitness goal (i.e., to be Tiny Sara), so I womaned up and got on that machine, set it for Level 4, and began to climb every mountain.
OK, not the StairMaster, but nonetheless:
visual proof that I go to gym.
And wanted to die after a minute, but I persevered. And made it all the way . . . to two minutes.

Two minutes! That's all! And I truly felt death upon me. I had to sit in a chair (I have never done this at the gym!) and breathe calmly for a few minutes before I felt restored enough to walk to my car.

But on the way out I passed the trainers' office, and there was Boss Bill, so I told him my story of how Tiny Sara was pushing me toward death. Boss Bill is adorable, he listened to my tale with a big smile, and then congratulated me.
  • Boss Bill: The StairMaster works every part of you. It's one of the best things you can do.
  • Me: But Bill! Death!! Imminent death!!!!
  • Boss Bill: Good for you for trying something new. And two minutes is a very good start.
  • Me: I don't think you are understanding the point of my story at all. Tiny Sara is a terrible person and you should fire her.
Boss Bill just laughed. Oh these trainers. I think they must look death in the face every day. There is no sympathy there, in other words.


 Tiny Sara (are her arms not magnificent??), sweet Boss Bill, and my adored Fit-Bit

The front desk guys were funny too. They asked me how I was doing, I told them I was going to die, and they laughed and said, "No, you're not."
  • Me: Guys! We need to hire a mom-type person for the front desk. You are awful.
  • Guy 1: Oh, Lady, you did great! 
  • Guy 2: Good for you! 
  • Guy 3: Go home and put your feet up, have a cold drink, you're gonna be okay.
  • Me: OK, now you get it.
 
I really love my gym.

xox
Lady C

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

FatSecret says:

 

 

My Weigh in Report

You lost 2.0 lb (0.7 %) since you last weighed in on Sunday 06 May 18.
At that rate it will take you about 130 months to get to your goal weight.

Whee! In 10 years, I'll be skinny, sexy, and sixty-five! Granny be freakin' it.

In other news, it is bloody hot here and I still have too much work (while everyone else in my house lounges, including the cats).

That is all.



p.s. Happy America's birthday, my least favorite holiday. I love America and all, but October is a much nicer month for a birthday. I'm just saying.

Sunday, July 1, 2018

The Lighter Side of Misery?

 

Good Lord, what a crappy week it's been! After the funnest weekend imaginable (girlfriends! theater! culture! cocktails by my fire pit!), I hit the ground running at 6 a.m. Monday, driving for an hour in constant traffic to Hingham to work onsite for Coldwater Creek for three days. The people there are very nice, the coffee's delicious, and I adore my sister proofreader — but it's long days reading endless columns of similar text, and I am squinty and stupit by 6 p.m., when I get in the car to drive for another hour in constant traffic.

By the time I'm home, I'm dead. No after-hours gym workout for me! It's all I can do to keep my head upright in my lovely recliner and follow the intricate plot twists of Charlie's Angels on MeTV.

On Wednesday, I caught a weird fast-acting chest cold that had me shaky and achy; I left work early-ish, came home, and went straight to bed, then on Thursday had no voice at all. But I got up early to buy groceries and icy treats for Li'l Martini, who had his wisdom teeth out first thing in the a.m., then went back to bed, rising only to cough up a pound of phlegm from my lungs, one ounce at a time. Glamour, c'est moi.

(Martini is fine. He's a fast healer and very stoic. Today he's at a pool party!)

On Friday, my cold had mysteriously disappeared but I now had a migraine that lasted for 48 hours, I was ready to shoot myself in the head. It's also become very hot and humid here very suddenly, and I'm getting increasingly anxious about the work I'm not getting done due to pain, exhaustion, and migraine blindness.


The ONLY bright side, and I realize exactly how pathetic this is, is that I've been too sick to eat much and I've lost about five pounds.

Uh, winning???

Today I felt better, and since I ate a big tuna sub, potato chips, and a root beer float for dinner, I will likely see the scale jump back up tomorrow. But it was so nice to eat something that actually tasted good to me!

It'll be a pretty hot week, but tomorrow should be a little cooler. And I got a lot of work done today (yes, the Lord's day), so I'm feeling somewhat less anxious. (Somewhat. You know me.)

And tomorrow I'm back to the gym, after a week's absence! Should go super well.

Though my headache was gone today, I still feel it dancing coyly around the edges of my brain. Think I'll go to bed now with an icy cloth clutched to my brow, that should help.

xox
Lady C