Sweatpants Everyday?

Ok, this is it. I can see rock bottom from here. My unemployment insurance has run out and I can no longer afford to keep my baby, the best car that I've ever had, Silvia the Grand Prix. She is so cool and powerful and I've maintained her so well... But alas, I fear that practical must trump cool. My mom has offered to give me her (shudder) minivan. I feel nauseous thinking about it. It appears that at the ripe age of 36, I must finally lay to rest my last grip on being hip and having any personality. What is next for me but to throw in the towel completely and start wearing sweatpants everyday...

We Are Family

I grew up in a big extended family. Lots of people around all the time. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and more cousins at every gathering, especially the holidays. When I was 13, my parents moved us to Oregon. About 2 years later my sister started starving herself, so my parents disappeared. I went from always being in a crowd to basically being alone all the time. Of course I dreamed of recreating that wonderful chaos of a big family for myself someday. I was sure that I would marry somebody fun, have at least 4 kids, and we'd be a big happy family, doing all kinds of fun things together. In my rush to fulfill this fantasy, I didn't pay very close attention to minor details, like make sure you pick a husband who wants what you want.

When the divorce happened, which really was a good thing since we didn't want the same things, I was sure that was the end of my dreams of a happy family. There would be no family vacations, no big Christmas dinners, and certainly no more children. Add to that crushing reality check all the other stresses of divorce and I was deep in depression for a few years. I've only recently really been finding my way out.

As the fog is clearing and I've had some space to look around, I've discovered a couple of things. And maybe the biggest surprise of all? I do have a family. Sure, it looks like there are not going to be any more babies. And it also looks like I'm doomed to be single for quite some time, but in the meanwhile I am having the big family that I always wanted. It just isn't exactly like I fantasized.

First of all, I've gotta say how cool my kids are. Now that I'm not exhausted from working and trying to keep things together as a single mom, I really have time to hang out with them and appreciate them. They're funny and smart and ridiculously well-behaved. Everywhere we go people tell me how awesome they are. And I see it too. I really like them. I know this should be "duh" but it hasn't always been for me.

Secondly, living with my mom and dad has provided that house full of energy. We have family nights with a ton of people all the time now. We invited friends over for Christmas dinner. We invited friends over to watch the Civil War game. Just last night my sister came by and all 6 of us watched "The Amazing Race" together. It was loud and boisterous. Go cowboys!

Third, I'm not afraid to do stuff with Griffin and Molly on my own any more. I used to avoid going anywhere with them for fear of how much work it would be. This trip to California proved those fears to be absurd. They are totally easy going and we had a fantastic time. It was no more work than driving down there alone. But having them along to do stuff with is way better.

Yes, I still have a reoccurring dream about that fantasy husband. He's always wearing white linen pants and cradling sleeping baby number 3 (4?) against his bare pecs. He looks strangely like a young Jason Patrick with that curly black hair... ;) But I'm not holding my breath waiting for him to arrive. I've got a great family right now. I just need to open my eyes and appreciate them.

I CrossFit

A couple of weeks ago I dragged myself to CrossFit in an angry mood. I had been going for 2 months and I just wasn't losing weight fast enough. Kelsi, one of the coaches, cornered me and asked about my attitude problem. I started crying about being fat and not fit enough. She reminded me that in 8 short weeks I had made some great progress. "I know, I know!" I sobbed. "But I'm still so fat! I can't do things that the other girls can do!" She started laughing at me, in a kind way, and suggested that maybe I needed to be a bit more patient. Then she gave me the standard litany of weight-loss truths: you're gaining muscle at the same time, so you won't see big drops on the scale, losing weight in a safe and sustainable manner means only 1-2 lbs. a week, and I could achieve more rapid weight loss if I was willing to eat an extreme diet. Yeah, yeah. I know all those things. I'm doing it the right way, but it's the slow way. If I'm working this hard, I want some big results. Anyway, I wiped my face and went in for the WOD (workout of the day).

Unfortunately it was a series of heavy lifts. I am super competitive with the lifts. I don't try to keep up with anyone when we run, but if it's dead lifts, watch out. Well Cheryl was in my group. Cheryl is my height, half my weight, and it's all muscle. I did my best to keep up with her and in the process truly hurt myself. I wasn't able to workout for the rest of the week. Brilliant.

Well, that was 2 weeks ago. In the interim, I've been going regularly, doing the WODs, and trying to have a good attitude. Of course, I only lost 2 lbs. in those 2 weeks, and that's not good enough for me. Then yesterday, a miracle occurred. "Karen" came up in the rotation. Karen is 150 wall balls for time. Brutal, but a workout that I had done before. It was the first opportunity to actually measure myself against an earlier version of myself. I was ecstatic.

10 weeks ago, my very first workout on my very first day with CrossFit, I did Karen. I think I wrote about it here. It took me 19 minutes and I was blubbering through it. I was so angry and sad that I had let my body get so out of shape. Yesterday, I did Karen again. My time was 10 minutes! In 10 weeks I had shaved off 47%! Holy shit! That's unbelievable! Suddenly, being fat doesn't matter. I can do 150 wall balls in 10 minutes. My skinny-ass sister could not do that.

I am strong. I am getting stronger. I will reach my appearance goals eventually, but they are not so important to me today. I am getting fit. I am changing my body. I don't need to be patient for results, I just need to change what I am measuring. Monday, I ran a 5k. The last one was in January. I improved my time by 2 minutes. That's real progress that I can see and feel.

BINGO!

I'm gonna start with this story because it's lighthearted. I used to play bingo sorta regularly... maybe 3-4 times a year? Ok, I wasn't one of the diehard, blue-haired ladies who are there every Friday night, but I knew what I was doing. I keep daubers in my glove box. I think that makes me a bingo player. I typically go alone because I don't know anybody else who enjoys it. I have a whole routine: the number of cards that I play, what food I'm going to order at which intermission, which special games I'll splurge on. It's like an entertainment ritual.

A couple of weeks ago I was bored on a Saturday night and decided to go drop $40 on a night of bingo. First of all, I didn't order my pre-game appetizer of goopy nachos and Pepsi. This time I just brought my bottle of water. Everything else was typical though... alone, 18 cards, and some specials. The first set had me feeling a little weird. I chalked it up to being out of practice cause it's been a while. At the first intermission, I skipped my typical meal of crispy, deep-friend corn dog, fries, and another Pepsi. (I'm going to leave that typo because I think it was a Freudian slip.) I stuck with the water. During the second part I found my mind wandering all over the place. I couldn't focus and I was having a hard time keeping up with my cards. I was bored! In the second intermission, I went without the usual hot fudge sundae. And it began to dawn on me that something was definitely wrong. I was not having fun.

Here are my conclusions... First of all, I actually think the lack of sugar, coupled with it being late at night, slowed down my brain. I think the carbs usually give me that jittery energy that lets me play 18 cards at once. So I was stressed that I couldn't keep up. Secondly, I'm not sure it's the bingo that I enjoyed in the first place. I think it was just an excuse to eat what I call "carnival food." And I don't mean that in a nasty way. Carnival food is my particular kryptonite. Real deep-fried foods like corn dogs, french fries, funnel cake, elephant ears, on and on, washed down by the sweet nectar of Pepsi (which I was drinking before water) is my idea of manna from Heaven. I seriously will go to any event where there will be fried-food vendors: home shows, auto shows, the county fair, the flea market, any sporting event, and, apparently, bingo.

This is probably going to get a big "duh" from all of you, but this night of bingo was the moment I realized that food is fun! And I don't mean enjoyable. It's a form of entertainment for me. Yes, food brings pleasure such as satisfaction, comfort, indulgence, memories, and more. But I mean food as literal entertainment: a thing that diverts or amuses or stimulates. And without the food, sitting there, stamping a sheet of numbers over and over, all alone, was really depressing.

Life Is Not A Sprint

Alright, I'm ready to get back to this project. Lots of things have happened in the past month. I guess I was feeling stagnant before because I was examining each individual day. When you step back for a few weeks and look at the big picture, there is momentum. I have a long list of blog posts that I want to write in the next week or so. Here's the list as it stands right now:

First, I did go to Texas for 10 days to work on my friendship with Robert. I had a weirdly self-revelatory experience playing bingo recently. Crossfit is going well even though I had a meltdown last week and accidently splattered Kelsi with a crying fit. My grad school application was rejected, which lead to a series of "what-do-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up" internal conversations. I'm reading a new book that has me questioning all of the food politics that I thought I clearly understood. I got another tattoo. I've lost 3.5 more pounds since I last posted (Texas kinda slowed my progress for February).

So there's lots to talk about. I just need to get down to it...

I will tell you right now that I'm good, I'm happy, and I'm healthier every day. This is a slow journey that is pushing me to new levels of patience and acceptance of my own strengths and weaknesses. I know it's corny, and I'm the first one to roll my eyes, but I really do feel like I'm transforming into a better, more centered, stronger woman.

I Need A Change Of Scenery

I don't know if anyone is still reading this experiment. I haven't been posting because I'm no longer feeling that initial momentum of excitement and motivation to make change happen. It turns out that real change is a slow and relatively uneventful process. I am being successful. I'm still averaging 1.5 pounds lost each week, and my fitness is improving in measurable increments. But doing the right things is becoming routine. Not easy, but not newsworthy.

I'm eating almost exclusively paleo-style now. I feel better, sleep better, and recover from workouts faster. When I do fall off the wagon and eat something loaded in sugar (say, Molly's birthday cake for example,) I pay the price with belly aches, lethargy, constipation, and acne breakouts. I do a Crossfit workout 4 times a week. I can do real box jumps now, clean and jerk 90 pounds, and I'm trying my damnedest to get to an unassisted pull-up. I'm no longer sore for 2 days afterwards. My body composition is moving in the right direction as I lose fat and gain lean muscle.

I do have setbacks. Mostly loneliness and emotional garbage knock me off course when it happens. I'm trying very hard to work on platonic relationships around me to fight my anti-social tendencies. Also, I don't have any work to put my passion into and that's got me feeling trapped in a holding pattern. I'm still waiting for the research job to get rolling or to hear back from the grad school program. I'm headed off on a trip to Texas this week to get out of my routine. I am absolutely committed to continuing with my workouts and good eating habits while away from home. I'm really hoping that this is a refreshing trip for me. I need some new energy or something to be excited about again.

Bleh!

I am stewing in my own impatience. Today was the due date for the doctorate program application. I'm not completely satisfied with the essay I wrote or the statement of purpose for that matter. They seem so mediocre. I have a sinking feeling that I might be out of my league in attempting to get into this program. It's a waiting game now.

As for the diet changes... it's been a struggle lately. The night I was trying to finish my essay, I was feeling particularly stressed and gorged on chocolate-chip cookies and ice cream. I'm craving starchy comfort foods like the junkie that I am. I'm discouraged that the good habits are not becoming any easier. I feel angry that I'm still forcing myself to eat veggies and feeling constantly deprived. Will I feel like this for the rest of my life?

The exercise is the only component that is going well. I've made real, measurable strides with Crossfit, and I'm feeling very proud of that. Then I turn around and beat myself up because I'm not losing weight fast enough. It's taking so freakin' long! At the rate I'm going it will take me a year and half to reach my goal. I've already been at it for 5 months! Is this really a 2 year process?

And then for whatever hormonal/seasonal/astrological reason, I'm really feeling the painful pinching in my chest due to being single. Everyone around me is in great, fulfilling partnerships. Why doesn't anybody want to be with me?

Blah, blah, blah. Trying to win the feeling sorry for myself championships, I guess.