The scale is a lie

I’m coming towards the end of week 5 of working out and I’m really starting to notice some changes in my body. My butt is higher, I have so much more strength in class and I just feel like things are fitting better.  Not bigger just fitting better. 

In general I’m feeling pretty good about myself oh, I’ve even switch to wearing tank tops instead of baggy t-shirts to workout in which is a huge step for me. But then I was a total dumbass and decided to step on the scale this morning.

I haven’t lost a single pound. Still up over 334 pounds. What the actual fuck.

I know it was a mistake to weigh myself but I was feeling good and I wanted to see if the scale reflected that. 

I should have known that bitch was my enemy.

But I made the choice today not to be discouraged, but to just make the decision that I am equally exchanging fat for muscle and that must be the reason why the scale said what it did. I am starting a carb cycling program on Sunday so we will see how that goes. And I’m on my way to my boxing class right now. In the past I would have let that scale determine whether or not I was going to have a good day. But not today Satan.

Today I’m going to box, I’m going to swim, and I have a gig tonight and nobody’s going to tell me that I don’t look better than I did before, not even a piece of crap machinery. 

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Major milestone (for me)

Although I haven’t lost any significant weight today marks a huge leap forward in my progress. I am wearing a tank-top to class and I feel pretty cute. I repeat I am wearing a tank-top to class and I feel pretty cute. If you have never met me in person you may not know that I never ever show my arms unless I’m under extreme duress or in a swimsuit. I also never wear shorts but that’s a milestone I have yet to feel comfortable reaching.  I had found a very cute workout tank top at Walmart and bought it on a whim never thinking that I would ever actually wear it in public or at least not for several months. But today all my other workout shirts are dirty because I had not had a chance to wash them and I decided to try on the tank top. Yes I had bought it without trying it on, don’t ask.

It. Fit. 

Not only did it fit, it actually looked really cute so I am screwing up all my courage and I’m going to wear it to class today. This is a personal victory and it serves to keep pushing me towards my goal. I’m one day in on week 5 and although the workouts are still killing me, it is in the best of ways. This is going to work. I just know it.

Every little bit countsĀ 

I’m going into week 4 now, and I might be imagining things but I’m starting to see some changes in my body, thank God. A picture was taken of me this weekend and for the first time I didn’t absolutely want to throw up at the side of myself. I’m still fat and I don’t expect that I’m not going to be fat, but for the first time I look I don’t know what you would call it maybe firmer? I weighed myself this morning and for the first time I actually saw the scale go down by two pounds. Plus I am seeing some strength progression with my exercising such as the ability to actually get into a side plank even though it was just for maybe two or three seconds. I’ve been off for the last 3 days and it feels like a lifetime. I know it is just my brain getting in my own way but I’m absolutely terrified about how bad this is going to hurt. But I should know that it’s going to hurt because it hurts every time, and if it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t be working. 

I’m driving my partner crazy with all the questions about if they can see if my body is changing or if I look different and God bless them, they always say yes. At least they know to keep telling me that I’m doing a good job because I’m spending enough time knocking myself down. Is it bad that I kind of hate taking days off from working out? I know that I have to rest but I miss it and I miss my routine, it’s like inertia  gets the worst of me and the days when I come back are the hardest because  it would be so much easier to just stay home and sleep a little more. 

It is pouring cats and dogs right now, and I’m sitting outside the gym like I always do when I write these entries. Time to take a deep breath and go inside and dedicate this time to me. 

Another day, another workout

So I’m trying not to let my fears stop me. Made the mistake of weighing myself again and I’ve gained another pound but I looked in the mirror the other day and I was surprised to see that my shirt I have been wearing was much longer on me than it usually is. I’m choosing to believe that I am getting in better shape and losing weight, the scales just not reflecting it. The real test is when I have to go away this weekend and I’m going to miss one of my daily workouts because I’m not coming home until late Monday night. I’m just going to accept the fact that Tuesday will hurt and then I’m going to get back into my routine. I often wonder if I’m OCD because having a routine saves me. I hate to be rigid but I feel like if I allow myself any kind of slack on this kind of routine that I’m like the bad kid in school and I’ll do something to get myself expelled. I really just wish I could get a teaser or fast forward image of what I’ll look like if I stick with this routine for three months, six months, or even a year. I just think that that would keep me more motivated. But that’s not going to happen and I have to motivate myself without skipping ahead.

Even though I don’t see any real change yet I have to keep telling myself it’s only been almost three weeks and although I am working super hard, it took time for me to get this heavy and it’s going to take time for me to get back into shape. I get so mad at myself when I’m working out especially when the teacher calls out to do a motion or movement that I am not able to do physically. I have no sympathy for myself, and I find myself mentally berating with all kinds of negativity. I’m trying to stop that but it’s really hard. So I am trying to celebrate the small changes that I have noticed in the three weeks that I have started this workout routine. For example when I first started I couldn’t hold a side plank at all, meaning I couldn’t even lift my hip up off the ground.  I just lay there, struggling like a fish out of water, gasping for air and praying that the instructor wouldn’t notice. Yesterday Not only was able to get my hip off the ground comma but I held it for three excruciating seconds before I dropped back down. I hope that is progress because if it isn’t, then I’m going to be sad.

There’s so many things I’m still struggling with in my life and I’m thinking that this new workout schedule and new mindset to simplify everything can only be helpful. I find it my time while I’m working out is actually quite relaxing because the only thing I’m thinking about is my next breath or my next movement, and I don’t have the energy to think about anything else. I think simplification will be the key for me in this 39th year and using things like my working out as a touchstone to Center myself.

Today is not a good body day

Have you ever had a bad body day? Like,  nothing fits, nothing looks good,  nothing feels comfortable? Today is one of those days for me.  I have been dropping everything in my hands,  bumping into things,  being terribly clumsy. Today’s boxing class was way more difficult than it should have been.  Plus there were people  just hanging out and chatting in the lap pool, just taking up space. I know I’m complaining a lot right now,  but this is me hitting a wall.  Mentally,  physically,  emotionally. The only thing i can think of doing is continuing with my routine. Don’t quit. Just hold on to your pattern. 

But I’m feeling every moment of the struggle today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. 

Mondays suck

 So I take my rest days on Saturday and Sunday. I know that probably isn’t the best schedule but it is what works for me. I am entering week 3 of my new workout routine and I have to say that even though Mondays are the worst, I am still keeping up with things. I can’t tell a difference in my body yet but I am trying to give myself a fair chance. It did make my heart happy to hear my trainer say that he can tell an improvement and I will say looking back from the very first day of boxing class today I am able to even attempt and accomplish most of the exercises that are done in class. So even though the scale which is my Nemesis says that I’ve had the nerve to gain for more pounds I am taking this as a victory. I plan on taking my measurements after the end of this week. Because my boxing club has a promotion going that if I do 16 workouts in 30 days I get my orientation money back, so this Friday will mark workout number 16 in three weeks. I figured that’s as good a milestone as any to check my progress. I just can’t wait for the day when I see real Improvement in my body and not what I perceive as imagined Improvement. I know it takes time but I feel like I don’t have that much time left in my life. I don’t have a reason to feel that way , i  just do. I don’t want to go into my 40th year feeling like my body is my worst enemy.

Exhausted

I can’t wait to get to the point where I look forward to working out everyday. There are people I’m told that do and I want to be one of those people really bad. I can’t wait to be one of those people who gets a runner’s high after their workout.  That burst of energy seems mythical to me, like something you tell fat people about to get them going and behaving right just like your parents told you about Santa Claus. I can’t wait to see what I look like in a month 2 months 6 months a year. I feel like if I knew what I could be that I would be more motivated to go after it. Today is really hard for some reason and I don’t know why. I know that I struggle with depression and after my mirror episode yesterday and the fact that I was stupid and stood on the scale again today with absolutely zero change in weight, getting up and going is really difficult. I have a lot of stuff to do and it would be so easy to just let that be an excuse to not go and workout. But here I am, dressed in my workout clothes with my shoes on and I’m ready to walk out to the car to drive to class. And instead of finding something else to do that is “more important”, I am choosing to make a blog post where I bitch and moan for a second and then I go to the gym.

Today is one of those digdeep days, where I am fighting against myself. And I can’t let the fat lazy version of me win. I’ve let her control my life for too long. 

Just don’t look

I am done with my 9th workout and I’m feeling pretty good for the most part,  with the exception of my dumb knee that likes to play tricks.  One of the trainers today mentioned that I don’t seem to be hurting enough and that he would like to see me push myself more during my boxing sessions.  So I huffed and puffed my way through leg lifts crunches and all other unspeakable exercises. Everything was great until I looked straight ahead and saw myself in the mirror. 

Shouldn’t  have done that. When I’m working out I go into a special place of focus where I sweat and push myself hard but I don’t see myself or anybody else. It’s just me and the heavy bag. I also forget there is a big mirror in the front of the room. Today I saw myself and it was horrifying. I looked a total wreck lumpy and lazy because I was moving slower than anyone else in the room. All the sudden all my hard work felt like I was doing it for nothing and my demons raised their heads and screamed at me to just give up because there was no point.  How did I let myself get so bad? Is it because I have selective perception and I only see the good things about myself and listen to the good things that are said that about me by other people. I have horrible body dysmorphia so that doesn’t help. 

I made it through my workout and I made myself go swimming and kept my routine. I think it’s going to be my routine that saves me just as long as I don’t look in that mirror again. At least not for a while.

So it begins. Again.

So I’m terrible with keeping a blog.  I had started one a while ago to chronicle my struggles with my body and weight loss,  then I dropped it. I just looked at it….it was 3 YEARS since I worked on it.  It just doesn’t seem real.  So I’m trying again.  Started a new one out of shame.  I just turned 39 and I feel a lot of times that I’m not only riding the struggle bus, but I’m also driving it… and navigating it straight into hell. 

I’m heavier than I have ever been.  Some of it came from the massive amount of steroids I had to take me because my ITP episode. In fact, I gained about 50 lbs from them. The other 30 came from depression and medicating myself with food.  

I tried everything including considering stomach surgery.  Which btw, my insurance denied.  Thanks jerks.  So I decided on my birthday,  which was a week ago, to join a boxing club.  Because I really want to just beat the hell out of something and not go to jail.  

I know myself.  I need structure.  Accountability. Goals.  So they are running a special right now that refunds me my orientation fee if I complete 16 sessions in 30 days.  I’m 7 workouts in. Lol plus I go swim for 1/2 hour after every session. It relaxes me plus the hot tub after feels fantastic. 

So this is where I am.  Struggling.  39 years old with no major health issues (THANK THE GODS) and I’m 334 lbs. I’m not going to weigh myself until I complete that first goal of 16 workouts.  Let’s see what happens.