Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Supersize me?

I don't know what size I wear. I think that's strange. I'm 27 years old and it's a little traumatic to try on clothes. Actually, it's not a big deal at nicer stores where they let you take the whole store into the dressing room. It's really stressful to me at stores where there's a 6 item limit. I feel the need to take 2-3 sizes of everything I want to try on into the dressing room with me. It's been about 3 years since I got to my lowest weight and have been in a 10 pound range since then...this shouldn't be rocket science.

Today I went to the mall today to buy new shorts or pants to jog in. My pre-jogging workout pants and shorts just aren't good enough. I found a pair that I thought would probably work well, and I really had no clue what size would fit me. I generally think it will be a really big size, but I also know I've been tricked before. At some (adult) women's store, I wear a small, which I think it's a bit wacky since I know lots of people smaller than me. I always wonder what they wear, or what I'll wear when I lose 12 pounds, if I'm wearing a small now. At some teenager stores, I wear an extra large. So, I never know. It wouldn't be a problem except that at the 6-item limit dressing rooms, I can only take a few items in. It's really annoying.

Of course, when I tried on the shorts, the small shorts fit just fine. I was a little bit more comfortable in the mediums, but I could have gone with the smalls if I wanted to. I never tried on the larges. Why do I even feel the need to take the large shorts into the dressing room?

All this to say... I do wonder how long it will take before I really understand what size I am. Since I know that my self-perception of my size is a little tweaky, I have to wonder how messed up it really is. I know what I think I look like, but I wonder how other people see me. I guess I'll never know...at least for a while anyway. Maybe a few more years.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Squeeze them oranges

Yesterday I made orange juice. My parents just came back from a vacation in Arizona and brought me a box of oranges from my grandparent's orange tree. I knew that if I didn't do anything with them immediately, they'd end up in the trash the next week, so I dove in and squeezed those oranges like a crazy woman. I made a whole pitcher of juice.

Real orange juice tastes amazing. It tastes like you are eating an orange. This sounds stupid to me now, but I've realized that normal orange juice really doesn't taste much like fresh oranges. I really don't drink OJ that often, but this stuff is SO good. It's so sweet! The color is really different too...much more orange than yellow. Shocking! Orange juice is actually...ORANGE!

Every so often (pretty rarely, actually) I do something that seems very domestic to me (like squeezing fresh orange juice, actually cooking a good meal, knitting, or sewing, etc.) and I'm a bit surprised at how satisfying it is. Some weird cave-woman, home-provider monster is awakened in me. I'm overcome with pride at my ability to create a THING. I don't know if this is partly because I have a thinking/planning job, rather than creating/doing job, and my biggest skills are all related to thinking/planning rather than creating/doing. I don't know what it is....but it's weird. It just makes me want to have babies and cook a pot-roast.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Sweet and Sour

Not much of note happened today. Actually, it was a pretty busy day and a lot happened, but nothing HUGE that made me think: I NEED to put that in my blog!

I like blogging. It makes me reflective of my day. Is there anything that happened today that is interesting, note-worthy, or that I at least learned from? Any great successes or failures?

I guess there are a few...

We got up and went to church. That's pretty normal for a Sunday, but was really hard this morning because we stayed up way to late last night looking at London hotels (trip at the end of next month). This morning came REALLY early. Sunday School did not sound that appealing when the alarm went off. I'm actually at a spot right now where I'm LOVING going to church and our sunday school class. It's a new-members class, which is essentially just a great discussion about Covenant Theology. It's so much fun. I talk way too much and embarrass my husband. I realized that I'm going to miss a couple classes when I leave for my trip next month and I'm so bummed. I don't want to miss any of it. How cool is that?

I got back under 140 lbs. Sunday is my official weigh-in day. I still gained a pound since last week, but during this week I gained weight early on (afore mentioned chocolate binge) and managed to workout consistently and eat well later in the week. 140 is pretty much my official "freak out" ceiling. I should be in the mid 120s, but have been floating in the 130s for a while now. My highest was the mid 150s. I couldn't believe it that I hit 140 again. I hate it. Anyway, my highest recently had been 140, and this week, thanks to the Cadburry bunny, it actually went to 141.5. EEK!! I was thrilled this morning to see a 3 again... 139.5. I'll take it!!! Hopefully all of this race training is going to help a lot. I think it will just because it's forcing me to be way more consistent at the gym than I have been lately.

I realized something about people today during a discussion with my parents over dinner. My mom is always happy for me when I lose weight, am eating well, or working out well. She is a weight-struggler too. We have the same body type, the same habits, and the same struggles. We bond in this topic. I cheer her on, and she cheers me on. My dad and sister (who wasn't there this eve) have never struggled w/ weight. Well, my dad has a little, but he just eats what my mom tells him and then he loses it. I don't consider this a "struggle." My sister is what I consider skinny fat. She's always been really thin and curvy, without being especially healthy or strong. She's just skinny no matter what her health status is. My sister doesn't understand why I work out so much. She thinks I'm weird. She generally doesn't eat in a way that I would define as healthy (Kraft macaroni & cheese = good source of protein). If her life were a movie, they would end it ironically... she would probably die of a heart attack someday with a brownie in hand, wearing her size 2 pants. Anyway... I told my parents about my race today that I'm going to be in. My mom was encouraging, although from a "why would you want to do that? good luck!" point of view. I'm a non-runner that comes from a non-runner family. On the other hand, my dad basically told me that I was going to ruin my knees and my back from any running at all and I should walk as much as possible. Later, he let me know that I should be sure to always take my dog running with me, should I insist on running (lest I be attacked by a suburban daylight-enjoying jogging rapist). Now, to give him credit, my dad has at least made note of my weight loss a few years ago and told me that I looked really nice and healthier. That little bite of encouragement has stuck w/ a me a lot over the last 3 years. Funny...I really shouldn't care how my dad thinks I look. Weird.

Now broadening from my family, to general societal reflections...
I think it's so funny how people who are out of shape and who don't focus on their health are so un-encouraging of people who are healthier and trying to make healthy choices. Even when I struggle with something, I can still recognize when someone else is doing a great job. I don't need to steal someone's joy, or tell them that they are doing a BAD thing, just because I'm not doing the same as they are. Why are people like that?

Whatever. Today was a success for ME. I'm loving church. I got my weight down a little. I think I've got enough sugar to make that sour-apple sweet afterall.


One last thing... the blogger spell check doesn't know the word "blog". How funny is that? It makes me laugh each time. I could add it to the spell check dictionary, but then it wouldn't make me laugh anymore. Blog, blog, blog.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

I knew the answer!

I've been a Christian pretty much my whole life and grew up in the church. However, the churches I mainly grew up in focused much more on you "felt" about things and less about learning what's actually in the Bible. It was more emotional than intellectual. Of course, you need both. I knew kids who grew up with the other imbalance, book-knowledge only with no emotional appreciation of their savior, and had problems of their own. For me, the end result was that I know very little about what the Bible actually says about anything. It's sad really, considering how many years I spent in sunday school. I frequently find myself in the middle of a discussion or debate about something in the Bible and I just feel stupid. My friends don't assume they would need to explain Bible things to me, since I have been in church forever, which means that I have to humble myself and ask them what they are talking about.

About a year ago I joined a Bible study that I have been loving, although it is a lot of work. It's a Bible study where you actually study the Bible, not just a lot of women socializing and calling it a Bible study. I love re-learning the stories, but also learning why things happened they way they did, what that means, and how to apply it to my life. I love it!

Yesterday I was having a Bible discussion with a couple co-workers of mine, who are both extremely more knowledgeable than me when it comes to the Bible. They were discussing a few things about how God created animals. The question moved into when man started eating meat - one friend thought it was from the get-go, and the other thought it was after the fall. I, very confidently, knew that God added animals to the menu after the flood. They didn't have much confidence in my answer. Since my bible study takes so much time, I keep it with me everywhere I go, just in case I have a few minutes to work on it...which means I had my Bible with me (we were in the car). I pulled out my Bible and was able to look up the couple verses for them were God first gave plants for man to eat, and then added animals to the list after the flood.

I think that was the first time in my life that I confidently knew what the answer was, and knew it well enough to prove the answer in scripture. Sometimes I'm like...I think I've heard/read this in there somewhere, but I have no idea where. This time, I actually knew the answer and I could find it. It made my day.

Not only am I a Christian, but am also a student of the Bible. It's a pretty good book - highly recommended.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

The biggest joke of all

When I first started working out and losing weight about 6 years ago, I could not rollerblade for even 30 minutes at a time. I couldn't breathe and would have to stop multiple times. My husband and I would rollerblade at Alki beach in Seattle. We'd start in the parking area that faces the city skyline, go down to the statue of liberty, and come back. For those of you not in the area, this is all paved and flat terrain. My husband was so patient with my horrible out-of-shapeness. All this to say, I've come a long way. I can easily rollerblade that now, and have been able to for some time. It's easy - I don't even think twice about it.

However, I've never been a runner. I never have been. I tend to breathe too shallow (a new learning) and it hurts. I tend to bounce too much and I really dislike that. I just can't go very long or very far without being more exerted than I think I should be. I think it's a bit humiliating. I'm too self-conscious too. I don't think it's every very flattering when I see an overweight person jogging and I really don't want to be that woman. I'm always proud of them for doing something good for themselves, but I still feel bad for them. I think I'd enjoy jogging more if I felt like that svelte hottie jogging effortlessly.

I realized recently that the part of me that keeps all of these reasons for why I can't/don't like to jog, is the same part of me that couldn't rollerblade down Alki beach and back, but that's not who I am anymore. I probably don't look as stupid when I jog and don't even realize it. It's probably more likely that no one is even looking, or caring how I look when I jog.

So, with complete terror and anxiety, I have committed to run in a race. It's a marathon relay. I need to run 5 or 6 miles or something and I have until July 9th to get ready. I know that's not a lot, not like a marathon or anything. BUT...on my first day of post-decision jogging, I could only jog for 6 minutes at a time. I can work out on the elliptical for a half hour, no problem, but jogging is a whole other beast. I'm now "training" for the race, which cracks me up. I'm training for a race that I'm going to run in. Ha ha ha. I think that's so funny. Who is this person?

I bought an MP3 player. I had a little radio that I usually use at the gym, but quickly learned that I could not jog through commercial breaks or slow songs. Now I'm on an search for good, fast jogging songs. Feel free to pass on any recommendations!

So, I'm a non-runner who is running in a race. I'm hoping to make it to race day before they all realize that it's a big joke. Or maybe I've been joking myself all along.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

And the gold goes to the treadmill!

Today, while I was on the treadmill, I had a moment where I was so proud of myself. I smiled in satisfaction at my achievement (more to come on that). For some reason, I was inspired to share my story in a blog.

As for the name of my blog (New Day, New Me)... I have spent the last several years (well, maybe 5 years) going through an array of experiences that challenge my self-perception. I'm at a point now where I sort of enjoy doing things that challenge my self-perception. Most of the time, I find myself doing something...and in the middle of it all, I realize that this is something "I" would NEVER do. Yahoo! I LOVE that.

A snippet about me... About 5-6 years ago, I got to my highest weight (about 155 at 5'3"). I was really unhealthy and much too big for my small frame. Over the next few years, I lost a bunch of it... almost 30 pounds. Over the last bunch of months, I've gained back about 12 pounds and I'm currently DESPERATE to stop this train and get it going the other way again. I'm actually really freaked out about it. Anyway...that's the short version of the weight-loss drama.

Today I did something I've never done - ever. For some reason (ok, I think it's due to too much Cadbury chocolate that is in the stores for Easter and not drinking enough water), I have had a painful headache for most of the last two days. I'm not prone to headaches at all (which means I'm a big headache baby) and I think this is the longest lasting headache I can remember ever having. Today I had a terrible day at work and as the afternoon continued, my headache got louder and louder. Ugh. I just wanted to go to bed. BUT, I'm desperate to stop my weight gain train and turn around. It needs to go DOWN. Really - this is not ok. Typically, I'm a morning workout gal, but have been unsuccessful at that lately (definitely linked to the lack of weight loss). I brought my gym bag to work today hoping to workout on the way home. So there's my internal debate. Gym bag vs. headache. Pounding headache. Flabby tummy. Ugh... I convinced myself to just go to the gym and at least just walk on the treadmill. Even if my head pounds too much to do anything else, I can at least walk. Just GO. And I did. As I alternated between walking and jogging, my headache mildly pounding away, my music drowning out my headache, I realized I had done something I had never done before. I have never worked out through a headache or other injury. Never. "I" would always just go home and decide to workout tomorrow.

So, today is a new day. Today, I learned that the new me chooses treadmill over headache. To go with it, I decided to start a blog and share my "new me" discoveries with others. The new me has a blog. Ha ha ha. I really do love that.