It Got Real Really Fast

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 11

I must offer a sincere apology to my faithful readers. I haven’t posted a “Weight Loss Endeavors” update in two weeks; because my schedule changed and I hit a bit of a down period due to PTSD triggers.

I’m also going to have to change the day of the week that these posts hit — once again. (I know, I know… but I truly appreciate those of you who have stuck with me, as the previous shift was made.) I will now be posting these pieces on Fridays — when I am free of academic obligations.

So let’s get started with the nitty-gritty.

Weigh-in History

Thursday, August 18th: 264.2 lbs
Sunday, August 28th: 263.4 lbs

Contrary to the thought that I had gained a little over half a pound, I actually lost a lil’ more than half a pound. Seems I was stewing over a mathematical mistake (due to the unstable memory of an aging brain) rather than my weight πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ.

Unfortunately, that brooding caused some unhealthy food choices over the past week; so I’m not sure that I’ll see an additional loss on the scale the next time I sack up and step on to the damn thing. Sigh.

Fast Food and Snowballs

I’ve been so busy with school that I can’t honestly recount what or when I’ve eaten over the past week; but I can remember what I ate yesterday.

After school, I was craving salt and fat; so I had a twenty-piece McNuggets, french fries, and a Hi-C Orange drink. It tasted good for all of about a nanosecond, and then I just felt icky and sluggish for the rest of the day (a sentiment that Mitchell shared).

We didn’t make dinner due to exhaustion and the previously mentioned “icky” feelings; but we did snack throughout the evening. I had Chex Mix, pretzel sticks, Snowballs and Krispy treats. (I know, why would you eat all that junk when you’re feeling like crap? Because you have a binge-eating habit that’s really hard to break.)

Needless to say, I wasn’t very happy with myself by the time I went to bed.

I’ve mentioned before that counting calories doesn’t really work for me, because I view it as a challenge. (i.e. If I can eat 1700 calories/day and lose a pound each week, then I will eat 1700 calories/day! Hungry or not!) But I think I can somewhat modify this type of thinking.

I’m hoping that if I pay attention only to the unnecessary items that I eat, like Krispy treats (they really are my favorite thing in the whole world), and then add those calories to my workout (if one treat is X calories, then I need to work off an additional X calories the next day), I might end up with a better understanding of how these poorer choices are affecting my weight. I could also decide that an extra X minutes on the recumbent bike really isn’t worth that next sugary snack.

So here is my promise to you Dear Reader: I will keep track of the calories I’m consuming that truly aren’t needed for my everyday activity level, and will add them to my workouts this week… at least, until I get dizzy and fall off the treadmill 🀣. I will report back to you about how much additional time it takes to keep the Krispy treats from taking up residence in my already-sizeable thighs… and we’ll decide together if it’s really worth it.

Shifting My Perspective

It would be easy to sit and mull over the fact that I haven’t lost a great deal of weight over the past couple of months, despite my toiling at the gym… and I did do that for a while; but recently, I thought about the history of my weight.

Over the past five years, I have put on approximately twenty pounds each year. This year, however, I’ve managed to maintain my weight. I may not be losing, but I ain’t gainin’ either… so my efforts have not been for naught.

I know this isn’t a grand revelation or anything; but it’s enough to keep me moving forward.

Workout Review

This is a review that covers all the time between my last workout posted (Monday, August 15th) and today. To say it’s “dismal” would be kind. Due to the fact that I’ve been drowning in a swarm of new activity, I’m not going to bother with the days I didn’t work out, just with the ones that I did.

Friday, August 19th

Bike: 30 min 6.66 miles 235 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min 1.81 miles 262 cals burned

Sunday, August 28th

Bike: 30 min 5.95 miles 192 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min 1.77 miles 258 cals burned

Monday, August 29th

Bike: 30 min 6.22 miles 224 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min 1.74 miles 255 cals burned

Wednesday, August 31st

Bike: 20 min 4.39 miles 138 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 35 min
Treadmill: 25 min 1.23 miles 179 cals burned

Trekking Across Campus

Four days each week, I’m climbing several flights of stairs and hauling my butt across campus with a backpack slung over my shoulders. It isn’t technically working out, but believe me when I say that my forty-four-year-old body can’t tell the difference. LOL!

The Missing Piece

Mitch hasn’t accompanied me to the gym in a while. When he first returned to his day schedule, we talked about hitting the gym when he got home from work; but that hasn’t exactly worked out. By six in the evening, Mitchell has worked a twelve-hour day; and I’ve been running all over town and studying for hours. We’re both exhausted, and neither has the get-up-and-go that would inspire the other to action.

Since I’m the cheerleader in this particular arena, and due to the fact that Mitch can’t go to the gym without me (a thrifty glitch in our membership details), I need to summon the courage to change this. So this week, I’ll take the first step; and talk to my husband about what he is capable of doing during the workweek.

He still goes on weekends, and I’m grateful for that. It is much more fun to have him with me, and I’m more motivated to go with him than I am without.

The Ever-Looming To Do List

It honestly seems that the more I do the more I want to be doing, which can sometimes lead to total paralysis. I start thinking about another task I’d like to be doing while doing the task in front of me, then an additional item on the to-do list jumps to mind, followed by another and another… and I start thinking, “Holy shit! I don’t have enough time left in this life for all this shit! I got started way too late.” Which, inevitably, triggers a brief — but overwhelming — mental and physical paralysis.

This past week, I did get back on track (somewhat) with the laundry; but I have yet to work in my other household chores.

I would also like time to truly enjoy recreational activities; and right now, that just doesn’t seem possible.

I have not been this tired since Bug was a baby. I did not anticipate how exhausting it would be to walk around campus in the sweltering heat of the Sonoran summer. I couldn’t have guessed how mentally taxing one of my courses would be (due to an unruly student and a professor who seems incapable of reigning her in). And I surely didn’t think I’d be falling asleep in the living room, often before eight o’clock.

But! The only way out is through… and so, my lovely readers, I shall persevere. I may never get everything on the damnable to-do list done; but I plan to cross as many things off of it as I possibly can — and just maybe, a few on the bucket list as well. Wish me luck!

Soundtrack: “Bucket List” by Mitchell Tenpenny

“Yeah, life is like a first kiss
You don’t know how long it’s gon’na last
All you get is what you get
And it gets real really fast

I’m a love a lil’ more, dream a lil’ deeper
Leave all the leavers, keep all the keepers
Find peace of mind in the time the Good Lord gives
I’m’a cross one off, put two more on it
Say I love you ‘fore the moments gone
And never have to ask myself what if
When I get to the bottom of my bucket list”

Sideways Regression

Mitchell is going to Phoenix today to visit his sister and her husband. He wasn’t going to (because he finally started working on the waist-high weeds in the yard, and was planning to finish it); but, I encouraged him to do so. I reiterated the importance of making family a priority, and pointed out that it would mean a lot to his mom. And after fighting about it for half an hour, he finally agreed to go.

Had he and my mother-in-law invited me to go with them, I would have gladly done so (and was secretly hoping that the invitation would come)… but they didn’t. And while I know this doesn’t mean that they don’t think of me as family, it certainly feels that way. (There’s that goddam disconnect — between knowing and feeling — again. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ)

When things like this happen, it’s hard not to perceive the distance between my husband and I as growing ever wider. I think, “Why doesn’t he understand that I would like to go too?” And at the same time, I don’t tell him that I’d like to go. Partly, because I want him to ask me on his own; and partly, because I live with the constant fear of being rejected. (i.e. I’d rather not express that I’d like to go and be left behind than to ask to go and be told no.)

He Loves Me in His Own Way

These things don’t happen because Mitch doesn’t love me. He just loves me in his own way, and often makes false assumptions about my needs and desires. I’m almost certain that he thought I’d prefer to have a day to myself, rather than travel to Phoenix in my mother-in-law’s vehicle. (I have a weird thing about riding with other people. I like knowing that I have my own get-away car, should I need it.)

He expresses love in many other ways (versus anticipating what I want)… but most of the time, these expressions come as a direct result of me asking him to fulfill a need and/or desire.

For example, this past week I returned to in-person courses at the university. This meant that I was returning to the scene of a sexual assault that occurred in 1996. The thought of doing so elicited crippling anxiety that almost caused me to drop out of school this semester; but instead of allowing that anxiety to put an end to my career as a student, I asked Mitch if he would take a few days off from work in order to walk me to my classes.

To my surprise, my sometimes-awesome husband didn’t see this as a ridiculous request. He told me that he understood my fear and trepidation, and was more than happy to walk me to class… and he did. He walked me to my classrooms, waited outside while I was in class, and walked me back to the parking garage after.

On the second day, we inadvertently walked right past the spot where I was date raped nearly twenty years ago. My heart did a flip-flop in my chest, and I felt dizzy and weak. When I expressed this to my husband, he immediately apologized and promised that we’d find an alternate route to the building after class… and we did. (And in all honesty, if my brave and caring Mitchell hadn’t been there, I would have either collapsed in the midst of a panic attack, or bolted without going to class.)

All of this was most definitely an expression of love and acceptance on his part; and it’s important for me to hold on to that when days like today occur.

PTSD-Induced Regression

As a result of that second day’s event, however, I started to withdraw into myself. I asked to eat out almost every day over the past week, and requested junk food from the market. I also stopped going to the gym.

Why? Because if I’m fat and undesirable, maybe no one will find me attractive enough to assault. (This is twisted logic. It’s true that I was young with a terrific figure when I was assaulted… but that didn’t warrant or justify the assault. In all actuality, it probably didn’t factor in to my assailant’s train of thought, either. Still… we cope with all kinds of sideways thinking in the ever-lasting aftermath of sexual assault.)

Thus, my weight has probably increased a bit, my acne has flared up, and I’m disgusted with the woman that I see in the mirror.

I’m regressing into the person I used to be, instead of taking further steps towards the person I was becoming… and it’s breaking my heart, rattling my tenuous hold on my sanity, wreaking havoc on my marriage, and causing a free-fall into the rabbit’s hole of a looming depression.

It’s also made me over-sensitive to Mitch’s words and actions. I got angry and yelled at him about the yardwork on Friday night. I’m hurt that he didn’t ask me to go with him to Phoenix today. I’ve been short with my own words, and distant in my communication with my spouse… all because I’m haunted by the past.

I want Mitchell to see how lost and frail I am (without having to point it out) — to understand that I need to be with him right now; and I don’t want to have to say it.

Saying it feels like weakness. Having to say that I need someone feels like being revictimized. Not being asked if I wanted to go today feels like being abandoned (something Borderlines do not deal with well); and it makes me angry and sad.

These emotions are a reaction to my past; but my husband — in the present — is the one paying for the sins of others; and I hate it when that happens. (Which is why I sit here quietly writing about my feelings, responding to my husband in tight-lipped one-word responses, instead of screaming and hollering at Mitch about my hurt.)

Unfortunately, that means that all Mitch perceives is anger. He knows it’s there; and it feels as if I’m angry at him, I’m sure. But I’m not. Anger is just easier than fear. Rage is my armor; but the war I’m fighting is already over… it just feels as if it never ended, and I’m on the battlefield alone — looking to vanquish a foe that is no longer there.

So Can I Win? And How?

The only way to deal with PTSD is to trudge though it. You can mitigate the effects through therapy and self-propelled (positive) action; but it’s always there. Lurking in the background, waiting to pounce on the present.

Getting fat (and yelling at your husband about the weeds) is one way to cope; but it isn’t a healthy way to cope. Instead of empowering myself through action (i.e. going to the gym), it simply fuels the internal fires of self-hatred. This hatred was not inherent at birth; it is a lasting side-effect of sexual assault. An ill-fated response to having pieces of yourself violently stolen, never to return.

After all, isn’t that where rapists truly draw their energy from? Clearly, they must pillage their power from others, because they have none of their own. Realizing that is the first step towards healing — to understand that the brawn those bastards wield is only borrowed. Borrowed from the strength they took from you. And if you’re still standing, they didn’t win… because you had enough left in the reserve of self to survive and carry on.

For me, the how of winning can be found in my pen. For whatever reason, I cannot sort the mess of these emotions through speaking about them… but I can come to terms with the disordered feelings by trying to form them into sentences, paragraphs, posts. (But unfortunately, most of the time I don’t sit down to write about them until my formidable ire has become all-consuming.)

Before writing this, I truly felt anger towards Mitch. It was the yard, and the lack of an invitation that were causing my fury and pain. After writing this, I know that it is the past I am raging against; not my poor, procrastinating, sometimes-oblivious husband.

In the wise words of Randy Atkins:

“If you’re goin’ through hell, keep on going
Don’t slow down
If you’re scared, don’t show it
You might get out before the devil even knows you’re there”

And if I get off my duff, and return to the gym, I’ll be able to outrun that horned, hoof-footed bastard should he come to sense my presence. 😏 And then, I need to offer my sincerest apologies to Mitch. I may not have exploded at him like I normally do; but I certainly haven’t been pleasant to deal with.

Soundtrack: “Going Through Hell” by Randy Atkins

Don’t Tell Me I Should Do Something Either

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 10

(Side Note: I apologize for posting late this week. I encountered an issue with WordPress yesterday, and just gave up in my frustration. Next week, I will be posting on Thursday per the usual.)

Last week I chose not to set any goals in stone (i.e. write them out). Why? Because just as I will go to any lengths to prove you (or myself) wrong when I’m told I can’t do something; similarly, I will go to extreme lengths to demonstrate that I don’t have to do something. (While this mindset is common in addicts, it is not unique to addicts. My husband — who is as equally stubborn as I am — confronts opinions and advice much in the same manner.)

So not setting goals was an experiment of sorts. Would I do better without feeling as if I had to do something? As it turns out, yes I would.

Eating More Than Once

I did much better on this front over the past week. After my workouts, I ate a piece of fruit and a Kind bar. Usually, this occurs around noon… so between then and our evening meal, I didn’t eat anything else. Lunch is something I still have to work on; but, hey, any progress — no matter how small — is still progress.

Rein It In

Mitchell noticed that I was having greater difficulties maintaining my workout schedule as of late, and suggested that I take it a little easier on the cardio the days that we lift. He explained that only thirty minutes of cardio is required for a “decent” workout, and asked that I try fifteen minutes before lifting, and fifteen minutes after (versus my twenty minutes before and thirty minutes after).

Of course, having a deeply engrained need to push the limits, I protested. Eventually, we settled on twenty minutes before and after (with a five minute cooldown in the after part). To my surprise, this did not diminish my sense of accomplishment. On the contrary, it seemed to make my workouts a bit more enjoyable. (Point to my husband.)

He also asked that I take a day of rest if I felt pain and/or the precursor of an injury. I rolled my eyes, and sighed deeply, but agreed to give it a try this week; and I did take a couple of days off when I rolled my ankle in the Walmart parking lot πŸ™„.

Don’t Give Up, Just Turn It Down

Core lifting still proves to be more difficult than upper and/or lower body lifting. Perhaps it’s because I’m much more fluffy than I should be, maybe it’s just that my core is subpar, or it could be that I’ve never had a great sense of balance… regardless, I tend to consistently hit a wall after this particular workout.

This past week, I was halfway through my twenty minutes of closing cardio when my body started to protest; but instead of just hitting the emergency stop and giving up (like I normally would), I decided to turn the speed on the treadmill down and continue on.

Granted, I felt dismayed at this (because I’m a perfectionist) at first; but in the the end, finishing the workout was a better feeling than giving up would have been.

Weigh-In History

Thursday, August 4th: 266.4 lbs
Thursday, August 11th: 263 lbs
Thursday, August 18th: 264.2 lbs

I think the loss that occurred between the 4th and the 11th was due to the fact that we replaced my usual evening snacks with healthier choices, while the gain between the 11th and the 18th was most likely a reflection of the less-healthy choices I made while trying to quit vaping.

I still have junk food in the house; but I have been a little better with my portion sizes. Once the junk is gone, I plan to return to the healthier choices I was making the week before last.

Workout Review

This past week I increased the speed on the treadmill (3.2 mph), and the target heartrate (144) on the recumbent bike — both by tiny increments, but tiny increments will eventually add up.

Thursday, August 11th

Bike: 30 min 6.43 miles 212 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min 1.81 miles 260 cals burned

Friday, August 12th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 20 min 4.41 miles 145 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 55 min
Treadmill: 25 min 1.28 miles 183 cals burned

Saturday, August 13th

I overslept, and made the decision to skip my workout in lieu of spending the day in Tubac with my family. Mitch and I had a really good day, ending with a lovely dinner with my mother-in-law.

Sunday, August 14th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 20 min 4.74 miles 161 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Lower body 55 min
Treadmill: 25 min 1.28 miles 183 cals burned

Monday, August 15th

Bike: 20 min 4.45 miles 147 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Core 25 min
Treadmill: 25 min 1.24 miles 179 cals burned

Tuesday, August 16th & Wednesday, August 17th

Intentional days of rest, nursing my rolled ankle and diminished mental state. (Being without nicotine proved to be too much of a battle, and I have resumed vaping. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ)

Once a Dragon, Always a Dragon?

I posted earlier in the week that I was trying to quit smoking. I managed to go ninety-two hours without nicotine, before I broke.

Unfortunately, without my one remaining bad habit, my uglier cravings began to surface as well; and since my drinking was devastating to my family, I decided that it was okay to continue smoking (the lesser of two evils).

Someday, I might be able to quit… but right now, I’m just enjoying the last of my vices, while trying not to judge myself for carrying the family curse of addiction.

The Winds of Change

The week ahead is going to be a challenging one. School resumes on Monday; and this is my first semester back on campus (versus taking courses online). I’m not sure what my course load is going to look like homework wise — though one of my professors has already assigned forty pages of reading prior to the first class, so I imagine he’s going to be tough — nor how tired trekking across campus is going to make me.

My hope is that I can continue to workout at least five days each week; but I’m willing to allow some leeway as I adjust to the new schedule.

I have discovered that this sort of self-kindness — rather than being self-judgmental — leads to better mental and physical health. Thus, I will do my best to reside in serenity (blissfully soaked in nicotine), regardless of what this week may bring.

Soundtrack: “Rx” by THEORY

Nicotine is the only way I “medicate” these days; but once upon a time, it was much, much worse…

Swing and a Miss

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 9

This past week was challenging. I wasn’t necessarily “low” (mood wise); but I was definitely in some sort of slumber mode. I didn’t have a lot of motivation to leave the house, and felt like I might have been fighting a bug of some sort. Then again, it’s monsoon season in Arizona; and it could just be that my allergies are kicking my ass.

Tracking Last Week’s Goals

As far as last week’s goals? I only hit one of the targets I set. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ

I went to the gym four out of seven days — versus five. (Miss.)

I did get to gym on Saturday with Mitch; but I did not make it on Sunday. (Half a miss.)

We did not get out and walk Tocho, because it’s been showering in the evenings and our boy does not like to get wet. (Unavoidable miss.)

I ate more than once each day a couple of days, but not consistently. (Miss.)

I did choose healthier snacks (Score!); but as I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m still eating too much in the evenings (healthy or not).

I am posting on time again; so I suppose that’s something (even though I didn’t necessarily set that as one of my goals).

All in all? Not a great week.

The Numbers Just Ain’t Addin’ Up
Weigh-In History

Thursday, July 28th: 263.2 lbs
Thursday, August 4th: 266.4 lbs

I’ll be honest, seeing that I had gained weight (working as hard as I’ve been) was extremely discouraging. Mitch says not to let it bother me — that building muscle mass takes time, and that it will mess with the numbers on the scale for a while; but I think the man’s just being kind.

The bottom line is that I’m consuming more calories than I expend… and I just can’t reign in the habit of binging in the evening. I try and I try… but often, I find that it’s more difficult to fall asleep if I don’t indulge my cravings (which just rattle around in my head until I act on them).

It is better that I’m eating snacks that are lower in fat and carbohydrates, but I still have to manage my calorie intake… and I just don’t know that I have the strength to overcome in this department. Ugh.

Workout Review

Normally, I find joy and pleasure in my workouts. But this week? I just couldn’t find it. All I could think — while riding the bike and stomping on the treadmill — was that I’ll have to start doing multiple workouts a day if I want to lose weight. As it stands, I’m working out to maintain my weight… and I’m not happy with how heavy I have become.

The numbers on the scale went up; and my excitement about cardio and weight training went down. I honestly haven’t had any enthusiasm when I’ve been at the gym… which leads to me tapering off, and sulking around the house.

But here’s what I did accomplish (half-heartedly):

Thursday, August 4th

Bike: 20 min 4.45 miles 154 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Lower body 25 min
Treadmill: 28 min* 1.44 miles 213 cals burned

*The treadmill I was on went to pot near the end of my workout, so I just decided to end it a lil’ short.

Friday, August 5th

Bike: 30 min 6.93 miles 228 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min 1.75 miles 257 cals burned

Saturday, August 6th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 20 min 4.41 miles 151 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 55 min
Treadmill: 35 min 1.76 miles 258 cals burned

Sunday, August 7th – Monday, August 9th

Nada.

Tuesday, August 10th

Bike: 30 min 6.28 miles 202 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min 1.76 miles 259 cals burned

Wednesday, August 11th

Nada.

Success is Directly Correlated to My Motivation

What I learned this past week is that measuring success — and then achieving it — is an instrumental part of my motivation faculties.

If I know I’m going to — or maybe, just might — fail, I’m far less likely to try; and after last Thursday’s weigh in, I stopped trying.

Mitchell has stated that the scale is a poor source for tracking my progress… that it’s more important that I focus on what I’ve accomplished; but what the hell have I accomplished if I’m gaining weight?

I feel like a failure; and therefore, start to act like one. Which, I know, makes absolutely no sense what-so-ever. Do I honestly just want to sit here and continue putting on the pounds? No!

Do I feel like my efforts have all been in vain? Yup.

I got’ta get out of this cycle of self-pity and self-destruction… but it’s easier to give in to the melancholy.

The one thing I will say is that I did not judge myself on those days when I just stayed home. I tried to show myself a little kindness and leeway; but I do need to find a way out of this stupid, dismal pity party.

Cowgirl, Up!

Clearly, I haven’t been to the gym today yet (because my mood does not reflect the fleeting happiness of the endorphin rush); and I just need to suck it up and get off my duff. But today is weigh-in day; and I’m dreading the numbers on the damn scale. (Avoidance is one of my many talents. 😜)

Mitchell’s long weekend is coming up; so he’ll be home tomorrow through Sunday… and I want to go the gym with him; but I don’t want to go to the gym with him. Partly because I’ve been skirting my weight training, and sticking mostly to my cardio workouts. But! If I want to build strength — especially in my core — then I need to get back to it.

Also, I want to have a better progress report for you next week, Dear Reader… so it’s time to don the yoga pants and Cowgirl, up!

Sigh. Adulting is such a drag.

Soundtrack: “A Little Bit Off” by Five Finger Death Punch

Forgive Yourself, and Find Your Inspiration

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 8

Oy! That’s really the only way to describe how I’ve been feeling the past couple of days (as you could probably discern from my lack of writing).

I’ve been working out at least five days each week since early-mid July, and I’m just not seeing the results I had hoped to on the scale (or in my figure).

It took me years to put the weight on; so I know that it will probably require the same to take it off… and that’s just depressing (and discouraging) as all hell. Especially when you consider an addict’s mentality: Instant gratification is never fast enough.

Which, of course, leads right into the binge-eating cycle. Scarf a bunch of tasty carbs, and I immediately feel more satiated (literally and metaphorically speaking)… only to later feel like more of a failure. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ

Journaling for Better (and for Worse?)

I keep a journal record on my phone (through the Quillo app) of all of my workouts; and it does make me feel better to look back and see all that I’ve accomplished. Unfortunately, it isn’t always enough to keep me motivated.

I take some time off (as I have over the past couple of days) — for a variety of reasons — and it’s always difficult to get moving again. Thus far, I’ve been able to fight the desire to surrender (and return to my former habits); but this week, I just can’t seem to harness the drive required to overcome.

I’m really disappointed in myself for not being able to change my eating habits in any sustainable way. Even when I do eat during the day, I still find myself binging at night… and it just sucks. Mostly, because I’m still consuming more calories than I expend (at least, I’m 90% certain that I am); which means I’m not going to see any real change. If anything, I’m working to maintain — rather than lose — the weight.

So I started wondering if keeping a food journal would help… and then thought about the shame it might cause. Wouldn’t that be worse for my mental health? Or would it inspire a more responsible accountability? Hell if I know… and since I don’t l like uncertainty, I just haven’t tried.

Pretzels, Oranges, and Muffins… Oh My!

Mitchell and I have started buying healthier alternatives, when it comes to snack foods. Instead of binging on Krispy treats and chips, I’ve began snacking on pretzels, oranges, and whole wheat English muffins… but I’m still eating too many of them.

We did stock up on a bunch of fresh vegetables; and Mitch has been diligent about cutting them up and portioning them out to facilitate eating during the day, if I so choose to… but I don’t always choose to.

I’m eating more often — on occasion — but I just haven’t found the necessary motivation to do so on a regular basis; and I don’t really know why.

If They Can Do It…

My beautiful blogging friend, Ms. Annemarie at “Seclusion 101 with Annemarie” has been challenging herself for twenty-five weeks to be more health and fitness oriented; and reading her posts about it has been a huge inspiration. (You can read her latest post here.)

As with most challenges in life, they seem easier to face when you know you aren’t facing them alone… even if you live in different countries.

But of course, it can also be frustrating to feel as if you aren’t living up to their example (and Ms. Annemarie is an excellent example); and that’s kind of where I’m at this morning. I feel like I just can’t; and knowing that I can isn’t necessarily enough to make me do so… and then again, I don’t want to disappoint my most inspirational readers; so maybe I should just suck it up and get out of this damn chair. 😜

When I Don’t Write

I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings vocally. For whatever reason, I just can’t properly sort all the shit in my head, until I sit down and write.

Many times, I have to write about a fight with Mitchell in order to come to a place where I can explain it. In fact, he often finds that reading the blog gives him a much deeper understanding of where I’m coming from.

It seems ridiculous that I can’t speak as well as I write (and I don’t often think that I do that very well, either)… but I can’t.

I also can’t feel as well as I write… and when I find myself in the rabbit’s hole, I often refuse to write (self-sabotage is something I’ve always excelled at); but when I do find the motivation to do so, all of my bitching and whining and hesitation and isolation seem petty and small.

Thus, I find myself (once again) a lil’ more inspired to get out of this chair simply because I’m reading about others who have done so — and I’m writing about wanting to be more like them — and if they can do it, then damn it, so can I!

Today, I will get out of this chair… if only to truly show my appreciation for Ms. Annemarie and all that she has accomplished.

Soundtrack: “House With No Mirrors” by Sasha Sloan

Three Out of Five Ain’t Bad

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 7

When I posted on July 28th, I was under the mistaken impression that it was Friday, instead of Thursday. So I apologize for this second shift; but my weekly updates will now be posted on Thursdays. Not Tuesdays. Not Fridays. Thursdays. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ

Tracking Last Week’s Goals

Reviewing the goals that I put into place for the past week, I managed to achieve most — but not all — of them. Not ideal; but it could be worse. Three out of five ain’t bad, in my book.

I did manage to get to the gym five out of seven days. Woo-hoo!

I was able to pull myself out of the rabbit’s hole I plunged into during a depressive episode earlier in the week (largely, because I went to the gym as often as I did). Nice!

I am posting a weekly update on time. Yay!

Bonus (unlisted) goal! I have resumed doing one load of laundry per day — immediately following my trip to the gym — which I abandoned somewhere along the way; so Mitch and I aren’t walking around in our holey couture.

I did not end up limiting myself to one sugary (or salty) treat after my evening meal. There were days when I found it was easier to rein in the habit, and days when I just couldn’t. So there’s much room for improvement there (and Mitch has been really good about trying to limit the amount of junk food we have available).

I did not eat more than once each day, either. Occasionally, I had a smoothie after my workout; but I’m not quite sure that counts “as eating a meal”. This particular goal is going to be the hardest for me to achieve, because it’s a matter of breaking a twenty-plus years habit… and that ain’t easy to do.

All-in-all, it was a more successful week than I imagined it would be (because of above-mentioned depressive episode)… and I’ll take it as a win.

When the Pounds and Years Add Up

Oddly enough, working out is not as easy at forty as it was at twenty; nor is it as easy when your body is carrying an extra hundred pounds. (Who knew?! πŸ˜‚)

It’s hard for me to accept my limitations in the best of circumstances, and I want to workout like the star athlete I once was. I was a distance/track runner (in really good shape) in my early twenties… and I still feel like that girl; but I’m not. I’m a middle-aged housewife who kind’a let herself go; and thus, I face bigger physical limitations than I ever have before.

For awhile there I was attempting to push the boundaries each and every day — adding five minutes and/or more speed to my workouts. (That’s an addict mentality. More, more, more!) When I complained of “overwhelming exhaustion”, Mitch stated that he felt I might be overtraining; and therefore sabotaging any progress I was making. My husband really does know best in this arena, and I know I need to trust his judgement; so I begrudgingly admitted that he was probably right, and have returned to less strenuous — but still challenging — workouts.

And you know what? I still feel accomplished at the end of them.

All It Takes is Five-to-Seven Minutes (and Some Mind Games)

I find that when I first get on the recumbent bike or the treadmill, it feels impossibly difficult. As those first couple of minutes tick slowly by, and the intensity increases to get my heartrate to a cardio-workout level, I often feel like it’s going to be an impossible feat. (Oh my God! This is so frickin’ hard. I’m not gon’na make it! Let’s go home.) However, I have also learned that if I can just make it through those first five-to-seven minutes, it gets easier.

That’s not to say that the damn timer isn’t a thorn in my side for the rest of said workout. (Seriously, time does not fly when you’re working out with a fluffy figure.) Due to my OCD, I tend to watch it obsessively; so I’ve developed a few tricks that aid in getting through my twenty-to-thirty minute workouts.

On the recumbent bike, I try really hard to maintain a heartrate of 144 beats per minute (slightly elevated from the suggested 142). You’d be surprised how much concentration that takes; which, for me, makes the minutes move a little faster.

On the treadmill, I don’t hang on to the cardio/heartrate rail. I like to walk at a higher speed, utilizing my arms. Instead of trying to maintain a specific heartrate, I use the “hills” setting. This setting has a moving screen to indicate the incline of the shifting “hills”, and it changes every couple of minutes… so I can break the workout into more manageable pieces in my head.

I also like to play “Name That Tune!” while working out. I try to name the title, and artist responsible, for each new song that flows through my headphones; and I use a “workout mix” through my YouTube subscription to keep the playlist fresh and feisty. It’s easier to keep the legs moving to a snazzy beat.

Utilizing these “tricks” has allowed me to consistently work fifty-to-fifty-five minutes of cardio into my daily workouts.

Weigh-in History

Monday, July 11th: 264 lbs
Thursday, July 28th: 263.6 lbs (A lil’ loss is still a loss! 😏)

Workout Review

Thursday, July 28th

Bike: 30 min 6 miles 201 cals burned
Treadmill: 45 min (“Hills” Level 1/Speed 3.1 mph) 2.27 miles 331 cals burned

Friday, July 29th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 15 min 2.92 miles 111 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 55 min
Treadmill: 40 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 2 miles 291 cals burned

Saturday, July 30th & Sunday, July 31st

I fell into a depressive episode… probably enhanced by the pain I felt from increasing my time on the treadmill. As a result neither Mitchell, nor I, worked out over the weekend. Mitch was willing; I was not. (Bad Cassie! 😜)

Monday, August 1st

Bike: 30 min 6.07 miles 217 cals burned
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 1.73 miles 255 cals burned

Tuesday, August 2nd

Bike: 20 min 4.18 miles 184 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Core 40 min
Treadmill: 5 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 0.24 miles 35 cals burned

The core lifting still proves to be incredibly difficult. The “core room” isn’t as well ventilated as the rest of the gym, which raises the body temperature; and I’m extremely sensitive to overheating. I hit a palpable wall when I got on the treadmill; but instead of trying to scale it, I listened to my body and gave in.

Β© Warner Bros. Pictures, “Storks”

Wednesday, August 3rd

Bike: 20 min 4.24 miles 154 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 40 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 1.74 miles 255 cals burned

Noticeable Changes

I’ve been consistently working out (at least five days per week) since July 11th, and have started to notice some subtle changes. Old t-shirts slide over my belly a little easier, my yoga pants slide on with less effort, and my arms seem a bit smaller when scrubbing them in the shower.

More importantly though, I feel better about myself and have a lil’ more self-confidence — and a lil’ less hatred for my figure.

Goals for the Week Ahead

Get to the gym at least five out of the following seven days.

Be sure to workout over the weekend, so that Mitchell gets his time at the gym.

Take Tocho (our coonhound rescue pup) for at least three walks in the evening.

Eat more than once per day.

Keep reining in unhealthy snacks.

Those last two are gon’na continue to be a bitch; but I’ve got’ta try!

Soundtrack: “Confident” by Demi Lovato

May you all find a lil’ extra confidence in the week ahead!

It’s Not “Just” a Food Addiction

Recovery & Weight Loss Endeavors No. 6

The past two days have been dismal for me. I binged, and binged again, on junk food — cheeseballs and crackers, cookies, Krispy treats, candy, etc.

This problem isn’t a simple one. It isn’t a matter of will-power alone. It also doesn’t come down to it “just” being an addiction.

I’m on medication for night terrors (that I get absolutely zero sleep without) that has an “increased appetite” side effect. Between my two doses (one at six in the evening, and one around eight in the evening), it’s as if I’m stoned on weed and have a terrible case of the proverbial munchies.

I also have IBS; so I avoid eating during the day (especially if I have plans) in order to mitigate the chances of having an attack. Thus, by early evening, I’m famished; and I eat much faster than I should (and crave sugar and fats due to low blood glucose).

Mitch and I do not have healthy eating habits, either. We’re both procrastinators and rather poor planners… which leaves our evening meal on hiatus until we’re both starving, and more likely to run out for fast food.

What Hasn’t Worked

Stocking the Fridge

We have tried filling the refrigerator with fresh fruits and vegetables (things that by and large Mitchell does not eat); but often, they end up spoiling instead of getting eaten.

Why? Because I hate preparing food; so if Mitch doesn’t take the initiative to cut things up and portion them out, I tend to ignore what’s in the kitchen. (I also have an essential tremor that makes handling knives a difficult feat.)

That isn’t to say that my husband is at fault. On the contrary, I need to take some initiative in this department. I should take more responsibility for my own dietary habits; but Mitch has been in control of this for so long, that it’s become a (somewhat necessary — see the tremor explanation above) habit that’s hard to break.

Making Vows

I have tried writing out my intentions — hoping to make them harder to break — to no avail.

It’s all well and good to type “I will limit myself to one sugary item after our evening meal.” (As I did in Thursday’s post.) But by the time seven o’clock rolls around, I’m frustrated with myself for not having eaten better during the day, and that “the house is on fire, might as well let it burn to the ground” mentality sets in.

Counting Calories

I shared in an earlier post on the blog why this particular tactic doesn’t work for me.

The F*cking Endless Cycle

I’m extremely agitated by my inability to reign-in my binge-eating habits.

I cannot fathom how I found the strength to give up booze and narcotics, yet can’t manage to put down the donuts and potato chips through my will alone.

After a binge, I wake up feeling ashamed and disgusting. Often, I also feel physically taxed and sluggish; which is exactly how I felt when plagued with a hangover.

You would think that wanting those feelings to go away would be enough to prevent the actions that precede them; but instead, I find myself stuck in the hellish cycle of addiction (albeit, a less nefarious addiction than the ones I’ve managed to keep in check this past few years): eat irresponsibly, it takes an emotional/physical toll, feelings of shame fuel negative self-image, there is a loss of hope and some self-flagellation, reach for (false) comfort in the very thing causing you distress. Rinse and repeat.

Not “Just” an Addiction is Still an Addiction

One of the hardest things about overcoming addictions is that they mutate. Why? Because “addiction” is born of maladapted coping mechanisms. It’s a (somewhat “diseased”) way of thinking… and changing one’s way of thinking can be an extremely difficult thing to do.

In addicts, negative underlying emotions fuel the desire to rid oneself of them through any means necessary… to feel something different.

In my case, I’m trying to “outrun” feeling undesirable — to fill the one missing piece (i.e. a sexually intimate connection with my husband) in the puzzle of my life.

I couldn’t fill it with alcohol. I couldn’t fill it with opiates. I couldn’t fill it with affairs. And now? Now, I cannot fill it with food.

I Should Know Better By Now

After years of self-reflection in the Anonymous programs, you would think I had better tools to cope with feelings of self-destruction; and I do… sort-of.

I have friends that I can call when I’m feeling “restless, irritable, and discontent” — but I still struggle with actually doing so. (Mostly, because I’d rather listen to their problems, than to bleed all over them with mine.)

I know that writing helps me to sort out negative emotions, and leads to finding the flecks of glitter among the ashes of darker thoughts… and that I can do (as I am now).

It seems to me that I must start treating my binge-eating as an addiction (rather than just a bad habit) — even when there are other factors at play; and for me, unfortunately, that means finding a healthier addiction to replace it.

I’m working on it…

Soundtrack: “Recovery” by James Arthur

Move Over, F*ck It Hamster!

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 5

I am totally unmotivated this morning. I did wash my face and brush my teeth upon awakening; but I haven’t showered since Tuesday afternoon, and have yet to return to the gym (haven’t been there since Friday) and/or my chores (which I abandoned Monday).

It’s a bit odd to have apathy linger this long… especially when I had a good day yesterday. Bug (my son) came over in the early morning to do his laundry; and we had a very nice visit. Rige-o (my baby brother) called in the afternoon just to chat (a rare treat); and we had a great conversation full of laughter. Mama texted me throughout the day; and we also had a fun conversation. Mitch came home after work and did the dishes himself; while we joked and poked fun at one another.

So what the hell is my problem?!

The First Law of Physics

“An object will remain at rest or in a uniform state of motion unless that state is changed by an external force.”
– Newton’s Three Laws of Motion

I’ve been at rest (though some of that rest was beyond emotionally taxing) since Mitch and I had our fight on Sunday morning.

This is not to say that Mitchell is at fault. On the contrary, he has asked “Are you going to the gym?” every day, before leaving for work. And my response has been, “No, I don’t think so.”

Instead, I’ve sat in the recliner — day after day — binging “Shameless” on Netflix, while occasionally corresponding with friends.

I haven’t been eating during daylight hours… which turns into shame-inducing sugar binges after our evening meal. (Last night, I ate a box of Crunch ‘N’ Munch toffee popcorn, a Mr. Goodbar, and a bag of Skittles. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ )

When we visited our primary care physician on Tuesday afternoon, I weighed in at 266.9 pounds — the heaviest I have ever been — and one of my liver enzymes is out of whack due to obesity. (Causing me to think, What the hell is the point of working out if I’m not seeing any results on the f*cking scale, and my fat-encrusted liver is being uncooperative?!)

Add all of that up, and the sum total is this: I’m disappointed with myself, and think I don’t deserve to feel any better than I already do… which is not very good at all.

What Did I Do?

I find that when I feel like this, it’s good to take a moment to reflect on the positive things I’ve done.

So, I know it’s a little late this week (I should have posted Tuesday); but here is my week in review.

Workout Review

I did find the courage to lift on my own (while Mitch was at work) last week.

(Side Note: One of my readers emailed me and inquired about the equipment at my gym. All of the cardio and/or weight machines are produced by Life Fitness.)

Tuesday, July 19th

Bike: 20 min 4.10 miles 150 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Lower body 25 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 1.77 miles 256 cals burned

Wednesday, July 20th

Bike: 20 min 4.43 miles 150 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 40 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 1.77 miles 255 cals burned

Thursday, July 21st

Bike: 20 min 4.25 miles 159 cals burned
Weight Lifting: Core 35 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” Level 2/Speed 3.1 mph) 1.77 miles 256 cals burned

Friday, July 22nd

Bike: 30 min 6.56 miles 227 cals burned
Treadmill: 40 min 2.01 miles 292 cals burned

Saturday, July 23rd

Intentional day of rest.

Sunday, July 24th – Wednesday, July 27th

F*ck It Hamster was at the wheel; and I gladly let the fuzzy lil’ f*cker drive me off my motivational cliff. Bad Cassie! 😜

Food in Review

This is seriously not a topic that I wish to review… too many nights spent sugar-binging in the midst of a self-pity party.

Goals for the Week Ahead

Ugh… do I have to?!

Yes. Yes, I have to… because if I don’t get off my duff and become the external force needed to change my current state of utter inertia, then I am doomed to continue feeling disappointed and ashamed of myself. (Is that really what I want to feel?!)

Thus, it is time to let the fuzzy in and turn on the cartoons (Tocho — my rescue pup — likes to watch cartoons in our absence). Time to once again don my workout gear, tie my hair up, and find my way back to feeling better about myself.

So.

This week I will go to the gym at least five out of the following seven days. I will limit myself to one sugary item after our evening meal. I will eat more than once a day (and snarfing a bag of Goldfish crackers doesn’t count as a meal). I will pull myself out of this damnable downward spiral and be the change I wish to implement in my life. I will continue to post weekly updates; but the day will be changed from Tuesday to Friday.

I’m getting out of this chair, I promise.

Soundtrack: “Work B**ch” by Britney Spears

Scaling the Walls

Ugh is the only way to describe the past couple of days within the confines of my marriage.

Mitch and I had a fight that went from quiet arguing to screaming obscenities to me throwing him out of the house to uncomfortable days of silence.

In the end, we were able to have a more rational conversation about the things that had transpired (i.e. normal marriage stuff, but with the added bonus of each of you knowing how to push the shit out of the other’s buttons); and agreed that as long as we’re still fighting — and have something to say to one another — then we’re still in this. Together.

Overcoming the Addict Within

My first gut reaction to having been emotionally disemboweled by my spouse was to act out.

I wanted to reach for the bottle of wine in the pantry (that Mitch keeps for cooking) and just get soused. I wanted to run to an AA meeting that I know is full of chaos and lies (and become a part of said chaos and lies). I wanted to grab my phone, reach out to an ex, and beg for sexual benefits. I wanted to take every pill in the house, and wait for death.

(Side Note: I do not wish to do these things to hurt my husband nor myself — not consciously, anyway — but to feel something radically different to despair.)

Instead, I did none of these things.

I collapsed onto the couch and cried into Tocho’s fur until he was soppy and covered in snot. I forced myself to get up and wash the dishes in the kitchen sink. I turned on a beloved television program and hit the mod like it was my last day on earth. I didn’t eat… until I did, and then went on a binge.

I don’t proclaim that these choices are “healthy” necessarily; but they’re a hell of a lot healthier than the destructive alternatives that first surfaced in response to stress.

Years into my recovery (in which I’ve done a ton of self-reflective work), I recognize the aforementioned gut reactions as extremely poor coping mechanisms for emotional discord.

I realize that thinking that way will always be a part of who I am (and I cannot control said thoughts); but acting on them is something I can control.

When I start to hear the insidious siren call of the addict within, I know it is imperative to think of the things I could lose should I answer it. Namely? My husband, my son, and my (rather precarious) sanity.

Having gratitude for what I do have helps to prevent the damage that my addicted self would do should she be let loose. (I’ve managed to keep that bitch caged for a good number of years, and do not intend to set her free.)

I will always be an addict… and I may never be able to stop the binge-eating or the non-stop inhaling of nicotine; but I would rather be a lil’ fluffy and vaping like a dragon than a careless drunk who thinks little about anything other than getting that next drink.

I would rather be fighting with Mitch over my lack of a sex-life than feel miserable about myself for having reckless sex (and yes, it’s always reckless at that point) with men who aren’t my husband.

I would rather know who I am than have no idea who I have become.

I choose to be more than my addictions.

Residual Fallout

Unfortunately — even when making healthier choices — mental and emotional stress always takes a toll.

In this most recent event with my husband, I lost all motivation. I stopped writing, stopped reading, stopped going to the gym, stopped showering, stopped corresponding with friends, ate a shit-ton of junk food, and was minimalistic in my attempts at doing the chores (I did keep up with the dishes).

This reaction to internal turmoil is a symptom of my disease… and it’s never easy to cope with.

It is beyond difficult to live with a mind that seems determined to unravel itself; and the knowledge that you will have to deal with said self-destructive mind for the rest of your life can be more than a little daunting.

I have yet to scale the walls of the rabbit hole I found myself falling into this past weekend; but I’m getting there… and really, that’s all that I can do — scale the walls one tremulous step at a time.

Progress, Not Perfection

Weight Loss Endeavors No. 4

After receiving the text message from my husband yesterday morning, I really didn’t feel like working out. Instead, I wanted to wallow in my grief and sorrow… but I recognized this feeling as the first step towards self-sabotage, and got off my duff and hit the gym anyway.

And you know what? After my workout, I was able to re-evaluate my husband’s point-of-view. He’s been here at home — every day — for five weeks. Returning to a regular work week after that has got to be hard (especially when you work twelve-hour days); and I imagine he’s going to be far more exhausted than he’s willing to share (Mitch is a very stoic person, and finds it difficult to share his troubles with me).

So I’m not going to see his message as an eternal excuse towards total abdication, but rather a subtle indication of how hard this transition is going to be for him… and will continue on my own journey towards a healthier me, until he finds the strength and peace of mind to join me again (and I have faith that he will).

Week in Review (As Promised)

Weigh-In History Thus Far

Friday, June 17th: 262 lbs
Monday, July 11th: 264 lbs (Gain occurred after my battle with COVID. πŸ₯΄ )
Monday, July 18th: 262.6 lbs (Loss! Woo-hoo! ✨)

Workout Review

When I warm-up at the gym — or spend my time on cardio only — I start on the recumbent bike (which I list here as “bike”), and then move on to the treadmill.

If Mitch and I are lifting, we warm-up for ten to fifteen minutes before moving on to the weight machines. We are not, at this time, lifting free weights. Typically we practice a four-day cycle.

Day one: Upper body
Day two: Lower body
Day three: Core
Day four: Cardio and/or rest

Monday, July 11th

This was my first day back, after a sixteen-day battle with COVID. I was excited to return to my workout routine; but Mitch still had a residual cough, and decided to sit this one out (which I completely understood).

I was discouraged by the weight I’d gained, but decided to shake it off and keep moving my feet.

Bike: 30 min 6.37 miles 191 calories burned
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” workout Level 3 at 3 mph) 1.68 miles 253 calories burned

Tuesday, July 12th

Mitch was feeling up to a work-out. This was his first day back after a stint with COVID.

Bike: 10 min 2.81 miles 108 calories burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 55 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” workout Level 2 at 3 mph) 1.68 miles 247 calories burned

Wednesday, July 13th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 10 min 2.9 miles 110 calories burned
Weight Lifting: Lower body 50 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” workout Level 2 at 3 mph) 1.68 miles 248 calories burned

Thursday, July 14th

I chose to let a sullen mood (and poor attitude) win over my desire to workout. Mitch was willing to go; I was not… so neither of us went. (Our membership is in my name, and allows me to take a guest… because of this, Mitch cannot go without me.) Bad, Cassie! 😜

Friday, July 15th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 15 min 3.09 miles 108 calories burned
Weight Lifting: Core 45 min

For whatever reason, the core workout was difficult as all hell on this particular day (perhaps from the lingering effects of COVID… one of which is utter exhaustion). Mitch and I hit a wall after completing it, and chose not to attempt our second round of cardio. (We also decided that our late-night run to Dairy Queen the evening before may have played a role in this, and vowed not to do it again.)

Saturday, July 16th

Mitch was with me on this one.

Bike: 15 min 3.07 miles 112 calories burned
Weight Lifting: Upper body 50 min
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills” workout Level 2 at 3 mph) 1.71 miles 251 calories burned

Sunday, July 17th

Mitch and I got into a fight in the parking lot, and ultimately did not enter the gym.

Monday, July 18th

Mitch returned to his five-day/12 hours per day work week, and opted not to hit the gym after work as he adjusts back to this schedule.

Bike: 30 min 5.88 miles 208 calories burned
Treadmill: 35 min (“Hills workout Level 2 at 3 mph) 1.71 miles 250 calories burned

Food in Review

Mitch and I ate out several times this past week. I didn’t keep track of when and/or where we got our food from; but I intend to work harder at both eating more than once per day and making healthier choices when I do.

Goals for the Week Ahead

I intend to hit the gym every day this week. I have not — to date — attempted any weight-lifting without Mitchell by my side; but I hope to change that in the days ahead. He has taught me what to do; and though I am terribly self-conscious about lifting on my own, I know that I am capable of it (if I can just summon the bravery to do so).

I hope to eat out less this week; but this could prove difficult, as Mitchell is in charge of making dinner (because the kitchen is his domain, and he has left it in “disaster zone” status). With his long workdays — and the adjustment back to a regular schedule — I am willing to allow us some leeway here, just for this week.

I have also been able to curb my late-night binge-eating, but not quite as much as I’d hoped to. This is an area that I will continue to focus on… remembering how great it felt to weigh-in yesterday under last week’s record.

Here’s to the week ahead, and summoning the bravery and courage to reach my goals!