It's a number game...

I'm getting a new scale today...weighed myself 3x this morning and got 3 different numbers. None of which made me very happy.  I seriously thought once I got rolling on this journey it would become easier, but not so much. I struggle for every pound and every day is a battle with the food I choose to put in my mouth. I have moments where I want to scream how unfair it is that this is so hard for me and most of the time I follow up by eating something I should, but it's so easy to choose something I shouldn't. It's not "big" ticket items. I don't devour a Blizzard anymore...instead I eat a snack size candy bar, or these wonderful little Godiva milk chocolate pearls that cost $3.99 for 20 of them that are smaller than an M&M...so I guess I am making progress. I am making better decisions and I am thankful for that, but the bad decisions are still easier. For someone who spent their life trying to be "good" being bad to myself comes incredibly easy. 

back on track

but it is slow going! With my crappy thyroid it seems like changing my body is taking three times as long as the next person. This is complicated by my ability to get easily distracted. I can find a million reasons to not go to the gym and last week I skipped the weekend. Not good. This week I skipped Friday morning. I could have made it there and didn't. I was measured by the Great High Fiver on Thursday and it seems that I am making progress (he was high fiving me like he had Tourettes!) but I am still frustrated with how slow its going. It seems to me that something should jump start my thyroid, I imagine a tiny set of paddles the use when someone's heart stops buzzing my thyroid, but so far that imagery had not managed to boost anything but my imagination.  I did make it back to the gym today and hammered out 40 minutes on the elliptical, 10 on the bike, and 5 on the stair machine...which is a bitch, btw. But the GHF warned me that we would be hitting the stair machine and I, like the good student I always have been, wanted to study up and be prepared.  I don't know about prepared, but damn if my legs are going to forgive me! Tomorrow I'm going for ten minutes, and will be pleased if I make it for 6!

I just don't get it

So as of today's date I have lost 18 pounds. Thursday I learn about how many inches I have lost. I feel better, I and working out, and I have not given up yet. Today I worked my ass off with the GHF and then afterward I came home and wanted to devour everything in sight. FUUUUCCCCKKK! It drives me crazy. Why on earth would I risk undoing the work of the work out. It's hard work, I push my boundaries and yet I want to eat every carb in the house. I just don't get it....

I need a body double

I have started doing crunches. Seriously, crunches.  I am determined to find a 6 pack in there somewhere. I do these crunches at home, using an exercise ball because I'm to embarrassed to do them in front on anyone else- it's hard to do much of a crunch with a belly like mine. But I do them anyway. 100 of them- for the last 6 days. I dream about getting punched in the stomach repeatedly. Nice dreams of falling in love, or getting a job, etc and suddenly I get punched in the abs.(this would be the reason I am wide awake and typing at 4:17AM) That's how sore these crunches are making me. In addition to being sore, I have a fucked up neck and I think doing the crunches has tweaked a nerve because my equilibrium has been off for the last 3 days. So some day, I will have a 6 pack but I won't be able to show anyone because ever time I turn my neck I get light headed and feel faint...ah the price of beauty? Nah, the ab thing is a pure vanity on my part and I'm not giving up the dream of having the 6 pack, in spite of the fact that I may have to remain horizontal to show anyone.

White...

not such a good idea for gym attire... :/

seriously...you've got to be kidding me

The Great High Fiver informed me today that we are going to start "pumping" up my heart rate more durring my training sessions...seriously... is my beet red face and the ability to wring the sweat out of my shirt not any sign that my heart is pumping at a rate near death to anyone but me?

the power of an adjective

The last time  I spoke to my ex he told me I was "always adorable." This caused me to pause. I seriously don't recall him ever commenting positively or negatively regarding my appearance. We were together for 8 years...but nothing comes to mind. I would remember I am sure of it. For crying out loud, I remember my friend Jim telling me I was beautiful when I was 16 and I have held onto that one for years.

When I think about my appearance it has never been pleasant in my head. I have never used kind words when I look in the mirror and I have always focused on my flaws, which have increased over the years. Yesterday while working out with the GHF I was self-conscious of my misquito bites. I get huge red welts that blister and of course I itch the hell out of them and then I get these really not so appealing scars that linger from summers long since past. I told the GHF it was just another one of my flaws and I laughed. I annouce my flaws, laugh at them, but still don't quite embrace them.

And yet, the fact that my ex told me I was adorable is lingering in my mind. Adorable. Not quite the same as 16 and beautiful from a boy I had the most fantastic crush on, but adorable non the less.  I may have to hang onto this adjective for awhile...