Day two at the gym.

I went in for Day Two at the gym. Look! I'm halfway to my goal for the week.

I now (sort of) understand the blue sheet B the T referred to yesterday. It's basically a spreadsheet-style log of my activity statistics (duration, resistance, pace, weight, reps...). When I got there today, she already had it filled out and ready to go, though she didn't show me the thing until after I'd completed the workout. I think that was a good move. I didn't feel defeated before I got started, and I felt totally rewarded after accomplishing everything she set out for me. I realize that this workout may not seem all that challenging to some, especially since many of the levels are rock-bottom, but it was perfect for me. I had to talk myself through some of it (see: arc trainer and sit-ups), but I was able to do it, which was more than I did yesterday. And I sweated my butt off in the process.

I look forward to the day I can look back at this and laugh at the ease of it.

• Treadmill: incline 1, 3.3 and 3.4 mph, 15 minutes
• Arc trainer: level 15, 10 minutes
• EFX (elliptical): level 4, 10 minutes
• Arm curl: 15 pounds, 2 sets of 10
• Incline pull: 50 pounds, 2 sets of 10
• Chest press: 15 pounds, 2 sets of 10
• Overhead press: 10 pounds, 2 sets of 10
• Abdominals: 35 pounds, 3 sets of 10
• BOSU sit-ups: 3 sets of 10

This is my routine for the first few weeks, just so I can get used to working out. I'll do cardio each time and the weights one or two times a week, she says, but I'm going to shoot for twice a week. I'll add minutes or pounds or resistance or reps or something each time to keep myself challenged and moving forward. I'm feeling good about this.

In other news, I'm feeling good about tomorrow's weigh-in. I've done really well with staying within my daily points target, which I finally recalculated to reflect my actual daily activity (summer = sedentary). I'm now operating on a 30-point day. Not only have I eaten the right numbers, but I have eaten the right foods. I've made good choices even when it wasn't easy in favor of healthy, lean, and fresh foods. I've had only a few sweets and diet sodas, relatively speaking

Honestly, I'm afraid to get my hopes up for a big loss or any loss at all, but I have to remember that if I keep making progress like this, I am guaranteed to see the results eventually. And "results" aren't just numbers on a scale.

Introducing: B the T and the gym.

I met with Brittney the Trainer today at the gym, and it went well. She seems friendly, knowledgeable, helpful, and thank heavens, not too judgmental. We sat down and talked about getting into the routine of coming to the gym and about not getting into the routine of doing the same workout over and over. We talked about goals. She had to write something down on her little paper that goes in my file, so we said my long term goal is to lose weight, even though I feel that doesn't exactly encompass the entirety of my motivation for being there. Since these goals have to be measurable, she seemed to think that 160 pounds is a good goal for me, which is ten pounds more than I had figured in my head, but that's fine with me. I'm not really working toward a number, but a lifestyle and state of health. For a short term goal, though, I didn't really want to put a number of pounds on it. We decided that, at this point, my goal should be just getting to the gym four times a week. Then she put me on some cardio machines.

This is where I should mention that, due a purse-switch and cruel turn of fate, I forgot my earbuds, even though I put together what I think is an awesome workout playlist. But I don't know because I didn't get to try it out. I did, however, try out the treadmill (15 minutes), the arc trainer (7 minutes), and the bike (10 minutes). The treadmill would be a lot better if I had my music, but I think it's a good place to warm up. The arc trainer was fun, but it kicked my butt. That's a good thing, though, right? The goal was to go five minutes or ten, if I could. Yeah. The bike was okay, though I wasn't feeling too challenged. My heart rate thought otherwise and stayed up while I pedaled away, so I guess it was doing its thing. I'm supposed to be figuring out which machines I like and can stay on for an extended amount of time. I kind of liked switching up.

Even though I could have skipped town tonight to go hang out with family overnight, which I've done for the entire long weekend, I made an appointment to meet with B the T again tomorrow morning. She's supposed to have a "blue sheet" (whatever that means) fixed up for me that outlines the routine that I'll work on for the next few weeks. I will roll up in there with some music this time. And yeah, and some deodorant. Oops.

After the gym, I hit up WalMart to pick up an extra pair of earbuds and some groceries. I cheated and went ahead and bought two pairs of pants to workout in. I won't consider them my cute, reward workout clothes, though. They're from WalMart, for pete's sake. But at the end of this month of going to the gym for four days a week, I'm going to find me a cute gym bag, too. I don't even know where to begin that search.

Speaking of buying clothes and things, let me leave you with huge victory I experienced this weekend. I've been having that defeated feeling when looking in my closet as of late. I have a few cute things that fit, but not much. So on Sunday, Mom and I headed to Kohl's and the mall to see what I could find. I didn't go on a shopping spree or anything, but I picked up a few cute tops and a dress that I am still not sure about. But can I tell you that these articles of clothing came from the misses section? Not the women's (aka, plus size) section. Misses! I have never in my life gotten clothes from the side of the store or an entire store meant for normal-sized people. (Though I realize now that I probably could have when I was a teenager and could have been a little more stylish. Oh, hindsight.) Now I still can't buy pants over there and I am only able to wear the largest size available, but who cares?!

Mom wanted to take a picture of me today, and I was wearing one of the shirts I got. The picture reminded me a lot of another one taken by my best friend when we were on a train in Europe three years ago. Until I looked at them side by side.

Going against the odds.

I joined a gym last Thursday.

I've been considering it for a few weeks now, especially since I've struggled so much with Weight Watchers this summer. I know I need to incorporate activity into the lifestyle I'm developing. I've tried a few things. I did Couch to 5K for two weeks. I have a Wii Fit and can sometimes get into a routine, but I don't feel like that's enough. I know someone who is currently being pretty successful with doing his own workout routine at home, but honestly, I wouldn't even know where to start. I don't really know how to do exercises properly or how much to do. Without direction, I would give up quickly.

So I went on the hunt for a gym. We have a few fitness options in town. There's the YMCA, Curves, another women's boutique-style gym called Elements, and Fitness Formula, which is owned by the local health foundation. It was actually a relatively easy decision. I narrowed it down to Elements and Fitness Formula pretty quickly. Elements has some nifty exercise machines that use card scanners to adjust to your personalized settings with just a swipe. There's a fancy-pants hydromassage bed and a sauna. They also offer some neat group classes. But the really good-sounding classes and use of the massage bed and sauna have added fees on top of the already exhorbitant $400 annual fee, plus a big initial fee. Fitness Formula, on the other hand, has an agreement with our Board of Education and will waive the $50 enrollment fee and chop 15%-20% off the membership, depending on how you pay. While Fitness Formula doesn't have super-swank equipment with swipey cards (though each treadmill does have its own TV), they do have specially trained, um, trainers who will work with me to develop goals and teach me how to reach them.

Obviously, I went with Fitness Formula. I have an appointment there with a trainer in the morning. We're going to sit down and work up a plan for me. I am only a little nervous, but mostly excited.

The only thing I worry about is the stigma of joining a gym. Not that I'll actually be going, but that I won't go. Everyone has a story about joining a gym and giving up and paying ridiculous amounts of money for a membership they never use. I am determined not to be that person. Luckily, Fitness Formula will also let a person join for just a month. That's what I did. I haven't already signed up for a year's membership. I want to, but I also want to prove to myself that I will do this for a month. Hopefully after tomorrow's meeting I will be able to outline some goals for the month, at the end of which I will go for the year membership and some decent workout clothes.

Thursday, of course, was also my Weight Watchers meeting. Again, the numbers were not what I wanted them to be. I had gained 1.2 pounds. I can still say that I've lost sixty pounds, but I have officially gained four weeks out of the past five. After the meeting, I was pretty upset with myself. I think it was the first time I've cried about this thing. (Okay, maybe not, but I did cry.) But after talking it through with myself on a silent drive to my parents' house and talking it through with a friend, I'm okay.

I am no closer to quitting than ever. The Q word doesn't even compute in my brain. I have had some doubts, though. Like, some (highly stupid) part of me will start to think that maybe this is all I can do, that maybe I've lost all the weight I can lose. I know that's a lie. I just have to problem solve. I can see the choices I've made, good and bad, and thankfully, I can see the results. Now my actions should reflect that.

I am sort of glad that I had a gain on Thursday. It was a reminder that I made the right decision by taking steps toward becoming more active and fit.

The guilt wagon.

I'm really good at spending so much time thinking about doing something that I have myself convinced that I am actually doing whatever it is.

I've done this with writing. Every now and then I go on these mental tangents during which I am convinced I have a writer trapped inside me. I think about writing books. I read books about writing. I even come up with writing schedules for myself. But do I write? Um, not really.

It has happened with reading, too. Big plans to read lots of books. Or going to graduate school.

The list goes on.

The truth, though, is that I am not really doing those things. As much as I think I want to, there's very little action taken to achieve these goals.

I'm working on becoming an active person. Yes, yes, the health and fitness thing, too, but that's not exactly what I mean. Though that is definitely related. I mean to say that I want to be the kind of person who chooses action over inaction. I'm pretty sure I'm the kind of person that people routinely want to grab by the shoulders, shake, and say, "Stop talking about it and just do it!"

Now, I have to admit that I have done very well at doing the actions necessary to get this weight-loss journey going. I didn't sit around and hem and haw about this one. I just did it. (Okay, so maybe I had sat around hemming and hawing for a decade or so. Whatever.) Six months ago, I decided that I could do this, and I started making good eating choices.

Sixty pounds later, I'm starting to see an old habit forming. These days, I feel like I'm thinking and talking about this lifestyle change more than I'm actually doing it. Granted, I am making better choices than I would have six months ago. I'm eating healthier and eating less. I think before I eat. I have formed great habits.

But I see them crumbling a little bit. My resolve is slipping. I make bad choices. The only difference between six months ago and now is that I know I'm making a bad choice when I do. I'm conscious of it. I feel guilt about it.

I don't want to be that person who says she's on a diet, but instead of eating well, she shovels in the unhealthy stuff all the while saying, "I really shouldn't be eating this."

That is incredibly obnoxious.

But that's who I've felt like lately. And it occurred to me yesterday that it's the very same as talking about doing something, but not actually doing it, like writing. Those days when I fall off the wagon and talk about getting back on it? I'm really just off the wagon, as much as I like to visualize myself on it.

I don't want to be on a diet, though. I don't want to be on a wagon. That's where the guilt comes from. I don't want to feel guilty for making bad choices. It seems silly.

I have to forgive myself and move on. I have to look back at what I've accomplished so far, which is a lot, and realize that I can do better than this wallowing. I am better than this. I have to grab myself by the shoulders, shake, and say, "Stop talking about it and just do it!"

Side note: Jack over at Jack Sh*t, Gettin' Fit is an awesome (entertaining, inspirational, hilarious, truthful) blogger, and today's post may or may not have something to do with my own.

Compare and contrast.

I have a hard time seeing the change in my body as I lose weight. Other people can see it, but I just can't. I can feel it. It's hard to deny that when I can take off some of my jeans without even unbuttoning them. (Yes, it's time to go jean shopping.) When I did some sun salutations on the Wii today, I noticed how much easier it was to touch my toes than when I first started doing them. But when I look in the mirror, I just see me. The same me I see every day.



Today, though, I had to get a new driver's license. (Something about having moved to a different county and also registering a new vehicle. Yadda yadda.) I was all prepared. I was going to tell them my real weight, even though I know they don't print it on the license anymore and even though my actual current weight is about the same as my false previous weight. I also had enough foresight to snap a picture of the old license before I handed it over to the lady behind the desk.



She didn't ask for my weight, though, because the license wasn't actually expired. My new one is just a duplicate for the new county, she said. When she threw out the word duplicate, I was afraid I wasn't going to get to take a new picture. I was about to ask if I could take a new one when she prompted me to sit down in front of the camera.






So, uh, yeah. I can see what people mean. There is definitely a difference.


I can also see that I am still no good at smiling for pictures.

Uh, did I do that?

I'm not really sure how this happens. I go for a couple of weeks, barely losing weight or (more recently) gaining a bit, and then bam! I lose an ungodly amount in one week. When I weighed in today, I'd lost 8.2 pounds. I have never lost that much in one week, not even that first week when I lost seven-something. Maybe I should be excited, and overall, I am. I have now lost 64.2 pounds. (Holy crap, that's awesome! Like, more than 20% of my starting weight!) I don't want to seem ungrateful to myself or the program, but these drastic drops in weight freak me out a little. It's not supposed to happen like this, is it?

I am not depriving myself. Most days I eat close to, if not all of or more than, my daily points target. This week, I ate almost all of my 35 extra weekly points, thanks to my misbehavior at a friend's True Blood premier party. I ate out almost every day, some days twice. I have done practically no physical activity, unless you count that one little Wii Fit session this afternoon. That sounds like a week that should result in a loss of a pound, maybe two. But eight?!

I don't know. I'm not yo-yoing, so I guess that's healthy. My mom suggested that it might just be a big boost after a plateau. Maybe. This wasn't really a plateau, though, was it? It wasn't like I was doing everything right and my body refused to budge. I just spent a week trying to act better. Maybe this is my body's reward, and next week, maybe the change won't be so drastic.

Something I'm thinking about: When I calculate my daily points target, it asks if I spend most of the day sitting, standing, etc. When school was in session, I always marked that I stand most of the day. Now that summer's here, I am certainly lounging around more than anything else. Guess I should change my answer to that activity question, huh? The thing is, though, that would result in my previously having 33 daily points to now having 30 daily points. I lost one point because of the weight change, and then they would take two points away because I'm not as active. Something tells me that lowering my points that quickly isn't a good idea. Maybe I should just drop to 32 this week and see how it goes.

My biggest challenge yet.

Summer.

For me, it officially started on June 2, almost two weeks ago. That's when life lost all semblance of structure or routine, and I promptly lost the ability to discern what day of the week it is. I don't think it is a coincidence that, for the past two weeks, I've gained weight.

Two pounds.

I know two pounds is not much. I know. But it's not the right direction the scale is supposed to be going. And really, it's not about the scale. It's my attitude. For two weeks (or more, if I'm honest), I have cut loose. Maybe I've gotten cocky. There have been too many things to celebrate (really?), too many outings that I've let go unmonitored (why?!). I didn't track the entirety of Memorial Day weekend. FOUR DAYS. What has gotten into me?

And I know that people say I shouldn't be so hard on myself. But here's the thing: I am an excuse maker. This is something I know about myself. I can talk myself into or out of (usually out of) anything. And if I let myself make an excuse for one thing (event, person, meal), I am going to let myself make an excuse for every other thing. And the next thing I'll know, I will have excused myself from 365 days' worth of healthy behavior. Because there are an infinite number of excuses in my arsenal, and no day is immune.

So this week, I have been trying to cut back on the excuses. I haven't exactly succeeded each day, but I am doing better. I am trying to reestablish a little bit of structure and routine. I am learning to say no. I am tracking everything, every day. I am realizing that I need (and have) friends who don't help me make excuses for myself, and I am grateful for them.

I want to be healthy all of the time. Not just when it's easy or convenient or just an ordinary day. See, there's something I'm starting to realize: There's no such thing as just an ordinary day.

Hit and miss.

Miss. Week before last, I missed a Weight Watchers meeting for the first time ever. As a teacher, I'm obligated to work three athletic events during the school year, and I was scheduled for a softball game that night. I did not like missing the meeting, but...

Hit. When I returned last week, I had lost seven pounds. Seven pounds! Crazy. But it was definitely nice to know that I could hang in there without being dependent on the meeting. I'm not tempted to go rogue or anything, but my independent success was comforting.

Hit. The fifty-pound mark! I'm there! Or at least I was there last week. Very excited and somewhat flabbergasted by this milestone. That night at the meeting during the "awards" segment, I racked up two five-pound stars, a fifty-pound charm, and my 16-week Stay and Succeed charm. Woohoo!

Miss. So I started out so well with the whole Couch to 5K thing. That's probably what accelerated my loss. The first week of C25K, during which you're supposed to run a minute and walk a minute and a half, I didn't ever get to the point where I could run the minute every time. I decided to do Week 1 all over again, and as I progressed through the week, my stamina grew. By the end of the workout on Wednesday, I just knew I'd be able to do it Friday. On Friday, I got halfway through the workout and bombed. I couldn't go on, or so I told myself. I dragged my butt into the house and crashed on the living room floor under the ceiling fan, sweating and huffing and puffing. That was over a week ago. I haven't been back out since. Yeah, I know. I'll put that on my list.

Hit. I hate shopping. I've had very few pleasant shopping experiences in my life. Until last weekend. Turns out, Kohl's in my friend. I found teacher pants that fit! A size or two smaller! So now I don't have to look like a clown. I also found some really cute tops. A size smaller! And y'all, I bought dresses. Like, several of them. One of which I wore just the other night to see Avenue Q. I admit, I thought I looked so cute I had to take a gas-station-restroom self portrait.

Miss. Yeah, I'm doing a fantastic job of keeping this blog updated regularly. Maybe someday.

Slump.

So I haven't checked in as much as I would have liked to. This is the end of the trimester, and things are crazy. It's hard to find time to do anything, much less blog and pull my hair out as I try to get it to upload on a 19 kbps connection.

Grocery shopping and cooking have gone out the window, too. I was doing a really good job of preparing breakfast and lunch the night before to ensure that I was eating a variety of foods that I liked. I was having different kinds of fruit smoothies each morning and interesting salads and sides at lunch. It was good. I was enjoying myself. Now, I'm pouring a boring bowl of Total raisin bran for breakfast and getting burned out on hot dogs for lunch. I know it's time to spice things up, but it takes time. Time that, for one reason or another, I can't find.

I'm in a slump.

Not a weight-loss slump, though. As of last Thursday, I've lost 19 pounds. That's almost twenty whole pounds! I can feel it in my clothes. I'm switching out baggier jeans for better-fitting ones. Students have even asked if I'm losing weight. I am.

Maybe too much. Okay, let me rephrase that. I'm not in any kind of danger of being underweight, that's for sure. But last week, when I entered my loss into the website, it told me I was losing weight too quickly. That I needed to slow my loss. Something about health concerns, irregular heartbeats, yadda yadda.

I'm not going to lie. That was sort of discouraging. I mean, can't I do anything right? That's what I'm asking myself. I know, though, that the faster I lose, the faster it could come back. And heaven knows I don't want it to come back.

That week, Nancy asked us if we ate one meal a week where we didn't worry about points. Again, there were a lot of people nodding, but not me. That's when Sarah threatened to whack me in the head and then said something about deserving to enjoy myself every once in a while. Or something like that. But the truth is that I was enjoying myself. But I also knew that I was losing weight a little too quickly, so I thought I would try out the no-rules weekly meal.

I tried it, but I'm not sure if that helped. Me I still lost 1.4 last week, but I just didn't feel good about my progress. I was proud of the loss, but the week's behavior didn't feel very healthy.

I'm losing enthusiasm, and I'm worried. I know it's irrational, but I'm starting to doubt if I'll ever be at a healthy weight. I know that there will be a plateau soon, and I'm scared that I won't be able to push through it.

Today, the road seems longer than ever, and pulling off completely to go through the window at McDonald's has never been so tempting. Damn that singing fish.

A small victory: I tried on clothes in a dressing room without having a total meltdown. I even tried on a bathing suit top and was able to envision a time when I might be able to wear it. It was cute.

The longest road.

I have been on the Weight Watchers Momentum program for three weeks, and according to Erin, it's time to blog this thing. So here goes.

Tonight, our meeting leader Nancy asked the group what our "fed up" moment was. When did we know we couldn't take it anymore? One lady said it was when she had to alternate between two pairs of jeans, washing them every other day, because they were the only ones that fit her. Huh. I've been doing that for years. Heck, I'm down to one pair now. Another said it was when she had a hard time getting up from the floor after playing with the children at the day care where she works. I can definitely identify with the awkward struggle to get to my feet, but it's never been embarrassing enough to spur change.

There's no pressure to share during the meetings, which is good, because I couldn't bring myself to say mine, the moment in which I knew I could not gain another pound. The moment when I'd reached my limit. I couldn't say it out loud, but I'm going to write it. Just typing it into this Word document has got my heart racing. Never mind that I'll be copying and pasting it onto blog for all the word, if it so chooses, to see. That will be another hurdle. Anyway.

I don't know why I decided to step on my bathroom scales. They've never been my friend. But for some reason and with much trepidation, I did step onto them about two months ago. And when I did, that little red hand -- I kid you not -- swung completely around the dial. All the way from zero to 300.

Surely my eyes had deceived me. The little adjustment wheel must've been tampered with. I stepped off, made sure it was set exactly on zero, and stepped back on. No change. Three. Hundred. Pounds. There it is.

Okay, maybe I've been in denial. Or maybe all this time I've been under the wrong impression of what 300 pound looks like. But when I envision a 300-pound person, it doesn't match up with what I see in the mirror. I mean, I know I'm fat. I always have been. (Except maybe on the day I was born. That was a very acceptable 7 pounds and one ounce, thank you very much.) It wasn't that I was shocked I had gained the weight. I was never under the impression that I was losing or even holding steady. But me? Weighing 300 pounds? That dark number that is definitely the unspoken barrier between overweight and Fat, with a capital F? Apparently so.

So when my teacher friend Sarah came up to chat with me while I was doing my morning hall duty and mentioned that she was going to join Weight Watchers and asked if I would like to join her, I knew what I had to do. She said that, of course, one has to have the right mindset to make this sort of commitment. This is normally where I would hem and haw and say, "I don't know…" Not this time. No. I had already done all the thinking I had to do. I was ready, and here was my opportunity to make a change. The change.

Mind you, I've been looking for this opportunity all my life. I've never been a dieter. I did try a Christian weight-loss program for a while when I was in high school and there was that freak accident in which I lost 30-something pounds while in Honduras for two months, but other than that, my life has been a steady weight-gain from Day One. I've always been too skeptical of diets and programs that I know aren't going to become lifestyles. I mean, who's going to eat only grapefruit every day for the rest of her life or never eat bread or potatoes again? Not me, that's for sure. Why try if I know beforehand that it won't be for real? You may go ahead and translate my skepticism as an excuse for laziness. Even if those so-called plans don't really work, it's not okay to pack on pounds day in and day out like I have for 26 years. So I admit it. My logic wasn't altogether flawless, but I did have a point.

In Weight Watchers, though, I've found something I think I can handle. This is just three weeks in, so I know the program and I are still in the honeymoon phase. I know things will get more challenging. I am learning, though, and that's everything. I’m learning to see food differently, to make better choices, to cook, for heaven's sake! (Talk about giving a man a fish and feeding him for a day versus teaching him to fish and feeding him for a lifetime.) I also know that I need to learn to see myself differently. That's where I need the most work.

So I know I've made a big deal about the number 300 (300.6 to be exact, according to my Week 1 weigh-in), but as my friend Jenny frequently tags her tweets: I am not my weight. If and when I lose the pounds I need to lose, I will still be me. Being thinner will not make me a better human being. Being heavier than I am now will not make me an unworthy person. But what I've decided is this: I may not be my weight, but my weight reflects the way I see myself. If I care about myself -- because if I don't, who will? -- I cannot treat my body the way I have been. This unhealthy and uncomfortable state I've gotten myself in shows how little good I've expected for myself. And I'm learning that I have to expect good things in my life. Again, if I don't expect them, who will?


Stay tuned to read more about where I've come from, where I'm going, and most importantly, where I am. I will have successes, failures, revelations, breakdowns, and certainly oodles of stories about navigating the POINTS system, learning to cook, and getting active.

It's going to be a long road, but if I've learned anything from experience, life is about the journey. I'm not looking for shortcuts.

Today's victory: I found out that I lost 2.6 pounds this week for a total of 11.4. That means I earned my second 5-pound loss sticker. I now weight 289.2, which puts my new daily POINTS target at 37.