Each weekend since I’ve started my 2013 weightloss project I have backslid. Like, I start out each Friday at my lowest weight number and end the weekend about two pounds heavier. For a while I thought it was a water issue – it’s always nicer to say it’s water, amiright?!- until the gain was consistently tied to giving into temptation every single weekend without fail, except one – that weekend I stayed consistent and driven and lost. I want that again.
This weekend my goal is to stay on track and hopefully leave one more decade behind by next weekend. And if there is no loss, at the very least, no gain will be much better than gaining those pesky 2-3 pounds back every weekend!
I was spending some time seeking motivation at my favorite weightloss blog yesterday (running for cookies) when I read her musings on motivation versus determination.
I know it’s mostly just a game of semantics, but for me, it helped to think about my own power as a dieter, exerciser, health seeker and person. When you talk about motive, you’re often looking for external resources to keep headed in the right direction- I have piles of motivational stories and resources in my head for when I get to a tough moment. But it’s my determination that keeps me on track. It’s my determination that sends me walking around the block, that makes me run. It’s my determination that allowed me to only eat half of the donut yesterday instead of the whole donut followed by it’s brother and sister who never got claimed. My determination is what allows me to have confidence, to be to absolute and resolute, that allows me to walk the world and tell people I’m losing a pile of weight. Relying on motivation to pull me through rough moments is almost like not taking responsibility for my weightloss. Motivation gets me excited, determination gives me confidence. I always hear people say, “I’m so unmotivated.” I have said it often. But what we really are saying in that moment is, “I’m not determined so I’m not going to follow through.” Then I get all grumpy because there I am with that blasted two pounds on my butt again!
Yesterday and all last night when I was confronted with temptation, all I had to do was whisper to myself, “Determination.” Guess what? So far it’s Tamara:with all the points and Temptation: 0. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?
Because today was a rest day, I didn’t feel terribly guilty about not working out in an official capacity. Instead, I did it Gangam Style:
Yup. That’s me in the red plaid shirt shaking it all around the sock hop. I (seriously) had the best time. School dances are still the bees knees.
I ran today. I ran for about a song, total. And yes, my lungs felt like they were going to burst (really it’s my throat), my legs felt like rubber and I got super duper sweaty. But I also felt really strong.
So strong that I got home seven minutes earlier than I usually do from the same circuit with walking only. Feeling cocky, I texted Bradley and said I was going around the small block again. I felt great, so I started around again.
I did pretty well until about 100 yards from our house and 45 minutes into a workout I was really pushing myself hard through. Suddenly my hips said ouch and my knees asked why are we doing this again?
I limped into the house, oozed into the shower, settled into my jams and made some dinner. Who knew running for three or so minutes would be that tiring?! (wink wink). Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Until Saturday, at least.
(And yes, I ran during Firework. I’m a predictable cheeze.)
Today is the day. I spent last night reading up on how other fat gurls like me started running. It all begins with 30 seconds, it seems. Today I’ll run a little, and tomorrow a little more, and after that a little more and more. Double up, run slow, run for distance. Slowly but surely they all say I should quickly build endurance and be on track in no time.
I’m hoping I can be strong enough to run a 5K. I know, I know. A 5K? People who run are always like, “MEH. A 5K. That’s only 3.1 miles.” Yeah, but this is me we’re talking about. ONLY 3.1 miles? I practically cough a lung after a block or two. 3.1 miles IS a feat.
Running is romantic. People who do it are like demigods because who in their right mind likes going out and feeling as though their lungs will burst WHILE their legs turn to rubber and you sweat like a pig? WHO? Bradley does. He’s amazing like that. And really, there are a bajillion other people who also like it, OBVIOUSLY. But I haven’t counted myself among their numbers ever. EVER. And I’ve never wanted to try because of all the sweat, pain and lung bursting, you know? The closest I got was when I was in Europe and I could zip up a hill with my 100 pound backpack on while everyone else panted along behind me asking me to slow down. But even then – I did not run. I speed walked. Or is it sped walked? All I know is that it wasn’t running, that’s for certain.
The 5K seems reasonable to me. Wish me luck as I take that first official training step tonight! I hope to be running around that track in no time at all. I’ll even try not to grimace. I suppose all I need is a little Katy and I’ll be cruising in no time.
Two links for suggested 5K training pacing guides:
Plan by: Running for cookies
And this one that does not seem novice to me (since when is running a mile and a half novice?!) But some people could use the Hal Higdon version. 🙂
Sorry about the cut paste. My app for WordPress is being a spaz.
PS. Wanna know the most exciting part, though? I have been regularly working out enough that I feel invigorated after the work out. That is a change. Exercise is GIVING me energy instead of stealing it. Yum!
I’m going to admit something here that I’m both sickeningly embarrassed about AND gleefully proud of. You know, so I can be all self deprecating about it but openly fan-girling it up with my guns-a-blazing.
I know, Katy Perry. That bastion of class, refinement and taste. In another life I am her. I am dancing around on a stage, formerly married to Russel Brand, dating John Mayer (ok, that’s where I draw the line) sporting whipped cream effusing garments while gyrating and singing about love and lust unapologetically. In this life I’m a teacher, but that looks like fun, right? In this life I’m only supposed to like overly sensitive indie rock. But my inner thirteen year old likes to work out to Katy Perry!
I get my earbuds in and fire up Miss Perry, round the corner and laugh at her memories of that crazy party, listen to her reminisce about falling in love and then it’s the wee hours and its just me and Katy and she’s telling me how I’m a FIREWORK and I believe it and I take off running for a block or two or three and so it goes over and over. At the end I’m all sweaty and smiling coz the whole time I was walking and running alongside that California Katy girl.
She makes me feel good. She makes me want to run. So what if she is this crazy ridiculous girl. If she can get my rear end to run and at the other end I’m smiling and raising my fists and jumping over the curb like I can really do karate then she certainly isn’t something I need to be ashamed of, right?
I say YES to Katy Perry!
(I’ll keep you updated as this is bound to change… Ha ha ha!)
Ok, Awesome People of the World (henceforth known as APOTW)! I am crowing because I am 1/4 of the way done with my 40 before 40! Woo hoo! I’ve lost ten since I started and only need to lose thirty more before those beautiful, gorgeous boots are mine…
I have spent a good amount of time reading my fair share of weightloss blogs. You can see a few of my favorites in the links menu to the right here. —->
One of the things I’ve seen fairly consistently is the dangling of the carrot. The external reward. The physical motivator!
My primary motivator is, of course, the time I’m earning back that I get to tack onto the end of my life. Of course, that is only a plan. As Ben Gibbard says, “And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time.” I get to hope, I get to make it as healthy as possible for myself, but I don’t get to choose much else. Because my other favorite quote is this one: “Time truly flies. If we’re lucky, we get to fly right along with it.” Or something like that by my most favorite poet Tyler Knott Gregson. I’m playing for time. I hope I get REALLY lucky and I get to fly through time for a long time. But if I don’t have luck on my side, perhaps good health will hedge things in my direction.
But I wonder… Would losing weight be more fun if pressies were involved along the way? Frankly, isn’t most everything more fun with presents? Like, seriously?!
I’ll admit that the ultimate prize would be to get rid of the surplus flesh once the contents have been evacuated. That is a sincere hope but I’m holding off on getting too excited about that just yet (I bald face lied right there – I’m freaking obsessed with getting a tummy tuck. I just don’t wanna seem vapid or premature!!!). Anywho…
So along the way…
Maybe some new summer dresses?
Or some cute shoes…
And I’ve already promised myself new boots when I reach my forty by forty goal. Pretty boots. Nice boots. Boots that will last longer than a season.
Don’t hate me but I’m having fun with my diet right now. I’ve got that in-control, power-high thing going on that happens once the diet and exercise become habit rather than a pain, the calorie counting seems like a puzzle rather than a punishment and you rather enjoy stepping on the scale every morning and watching the numbers as they just keep going down. Sorry, but that’s fun.
Know what my body is wanting to do today? Reclaim all the calories it has let go! Argh! Anxiety is a vile pile o’ stink. Worry not, I’m spending the time I’m not stuffing my face walking around and around the block. No joke – I’ve burned 900 calories today on my sneakers. I’ll beat these cravings if it’s the last thing I do!
I went roller skating last night. This is the second time in about a month and lemme tell ya- I rock at roller skating. This mama still has the moves! I got home and entered the calories burned and was in love with how many I burn at this weight (I earned 600 something calories burnt for an hour of skating! woot!) so then I got home and ate a bowl of reeses peanut butter chocolate cereal. And I ate cheese and crackers. SO, in retrospect it seems like a pretty reasonable ‘binge’ but at the same time it undid my awesome working out. Boo hoo. I’m fine. Just being an honest little reporter. who loves roller skating!