Tuesday, September 22, 2009

PRE-BLOGGER BLOGS - I'm here and I know how it happened (Sept 2009)

I know how I got here, and I did it all by myself. It started in June. I was packing to move and decided that with everything going on, I couldn't be bothered to go grocery shopping. I didn't have enough time to grocery shop, I wouldn't have enough time (or energy) to cook, and whatever was left over come the big moving day, would get thrown out. So we ate take out. Lots and lots of take out. And getting any type of exercise in?? ... Well I was sweatin like a pig moving boxes all over the house and cleaning what I could possibly bring myself to clean, that had to have counted for something .... right? Anyway, the big day arrived July 11. From that day til the end of summer, I was faced with too many "occassions" that added to my reasoning that grocery shopping was just going to be a waste of time. I left for Texas July 15 to spend 5 days with 11 of the greatest American women I've ever met. We spent that time eating and drinking (bud lite though, but I discovered lite in American just means "very little alcohol"). Actually, I'm scratching my Texas trip off my list contributing factors of why I am where I am today because the Texas heat, comparable to pitchin a tent on the sun, made me sweat out everything I ate, and I peed a lot, so what I drank didn't count either. And really, when I got back home, I felt lighter and my clothes were loose (that's my story and I'm sticking to it). The ensuing weeks however, were not spent in the Texas heat. They were spent in the BC rain (which meant a house full of beer and food), camping sites with coolers full of food & beer, and in fast food joints all over Calgary and southern Alberta. But I haven't had a decent-length couch session since June, so I was sure all that food wasn't going to make its to my hips and thighs, or the beer to my belly, but it has! And now here I am, mid-September, pulling out the winter clothes (because sadly, this is when Calgary winters roll in) and I find myself depending less on my belt to hold my pants up, but more to hold my pants closed because the bottons no longer reach the button holes. The zippers are still working though, so I have a little more time to get this under control. Not much though. They are starting to make funny sounds when I try to do them up. The disappointment is laughable, because what else am I going to do?? Cry like a bitch?? Even if I wanted to, I know I've probably earned it. I faced the same dilema last winter and January 1 2009, I decided I wanted to be skinny again. I said good-bye to my 3 glasses of orange juice and ginger ale a night, found a new route home where I didn't pass the the mc d's or the kfc, kicked my addiction to potato chips (with the help of enough episodes of Intervention to drill it into my head that kicking a potato chip addiction surely couldn't be as hard as kicking an addiction to, let's say, heroin), and and I hit the gym (the same gym that I joined 3 years ago, but had spent a total of 2 hours in that wasn't for a visit to the tanning bed, the same gym that my company pays the membership for because they believe in healthy employees, the same gym that I passed every day on my new route home), yep, I hit that gym ... hard! I got my smokers' lungs working over time and was able to jog for over 20 minutes out of 45 on the treadmil. I hit that gym so hard unfortunately, that I ended up with shin splints that hurt so bad I wanted to rip the bones out to caress them then give them shit. I turned to the eliptical trainer for support, but after a few more weeks of abandoning my child for trips to the gym, hundreds of dollars spent in the healthy food isles at the grocery stores, and spending more time cooking healthy meals than I could afford (and the fact that my shins just wouldn't heal), my 5 day-a-week gym regime slowly decreased, and by March, I had only put in 1 work out. By April, I was going to the gym just to use the tanning beds. But in defense of the tanning beds, tans hide cottage cheese legs more than a pair of tight jeans does anyway, but who wants to wear a pair of tight jeans when you're pitching a tent on the sun?? During my two months of trimming the chub, I reached a nice goal. I gained many compliments (which, depending on my mood made me either feel great and accomplished, or sad that my close friends and family hadn't told me I was getting that fat) and was also able to do up my pants without the help of a set of pliers. Not only that, but my muffin top had shrunk, almost invisible to those that would have never had a reason to see me wothout clothes on. Yes, over-all, I felt good. March doesn't seem like that long ago. And to be honest, I'm not feeling that great about March now. It was a lot of work that I was very proud of and I ate & drank it all away. And as harsh as it was to hear one of the men in my life tell me to either do something about it or quit complaining, there was something in that conversation that made me smile (even though I wanted to shove a handful of chips down his throat before he had a chance to chew them, or kick him in the shins until they hurt as bad as mine once did). He loves my body the way it is, but he can't stand being put in a position to either say the right thing or the very very wrong thing when I'm complaining to him about my weight. He's right. If my laughing about how this all happened is now to turning to tears (and I don't cry like a bitch for no good reason ...), it's time to put down the potato chips, unpack my gym bag, and re-familiarize myself with the healthy food isles at the grocery store. And to end this on a happy note, in the time it took me to write this blog, lunch is now close enough that I don't need to call down to my favorite take-out place on the 2nd floor to have my order of beloved hashbrown & greasy egg breakfast ready for me to pick up. I'm not saying I'm picking up where I left off in March, I'm just sayin ... I see how I did this to myself and know that what I may have in store for me in the next few months will require a healthier ME. I'll let you know what that just may be another time .....

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