Archive for the ‘Wednesday Wow’ Category

doesnotmovealone

I follow several fitness bloggers, my favorite being Steve & Bonnie Pfiester and their BCX Boot Camp page and LiveExercise program (um…no…really…I’m not a stalker). They have honest, practical, in-your-face content I just suck up.

Not to be confused with “suck it up” – that’s later.

Bonnie’s latest blog is about Celebrity Bodies, before and afters, what’s normal, etc. In her post she talks about what her weight typically looks like, what it looks like when she preps for photo shoots, and when staying a bit leaner. Bonnie also mentioned she’s been a bit more than her leanest weight, what makes her feel, miserable, and what twenty pounds more feels like.

I don’t want to quote her entire post. What I do want to quote is this: “We all have that weight where we feel our best, and mine is (go read the blog). That is a weight I feel good at, and I feel like I can maintain without being miserable.”

This is a frigging fantastic comment and one I cannot comfortably say. For while I’m incredibly happy I do not stare at numbers which loom slightly under the 400lb mark any longer (I still can’t wrap my head around that, I am not happy where I’m currently at – which is still another 55-60 pounds from my goal weight.

My goal isn’t out of reach. I know all I have to do is get off the lazy truck and do what I know I’m supposed to be doing. I have a lot of motivation: my friend Jill who weighed just ten pounds more than I did when we both embarked on our weight loss journeys (she threw herself into the gym – and that is an understatement!). My #1 Jesus Mum – Debi – who’s healthy as a little horse (seriously…”You’re not the boss of me”…totally takes on a whole new meaning) – she has mysteriously high cholesterol and sports several heart stints. I have online pals who follow my weight loss antics (okay…some are downright hysterical…I fall off stuff really well).

I have women in my life who when we do workout together, it’s a blast. It’s really infrequent. I get discouraged because we’ve had discussions on “Yah! This’ll be great!”. Commitment is an issue…and then my commitment to myself becomes an issue. I know it’s an excuse. I can’t tell you how challenging and fun it is to workout with someone. Working out alone is…alone. Dumb excuse.

Life check. What the heck AM I doing here???

For those of you on the post-op wagon who got off track, those friends who run when I invite them to play at the park, the other friends who’ve opened the weight loss door of discussion then flee like a warehouse fire erupted when I hold you to it: all in or all out? Longevity of life to chase nieces, nephews, grand-kids, spouses, Minions, new cute little man-babies (okay…I really, really, really like Beckham) do a pull-up.

I want to continue to be amazed at the little stuff: I can put another half of me in an airplane seat – where I use to spill over into the next one. I can cross my legs…like…all the time. I’ve been in the bathroom twice on the plane – to pee – but I can walk in without turning sideways…or knocking the toilet paper into vortex below.

Personally: I’m either 100% in or I’m 100% out. My health, though vastly improved, is not optimal. Physically – if I don’t get the remaining weight off I’m in for a real headache. Knee replacements are on the horizon, and one will have to be in the next 12-18 months. My back hurts where my spine curves. The added weight doesn’t help. My butt bounces when I run (I need a butt-bra). I want to do Cross Fit (I can do most of the stuff). I’d KILL to get up to the top of a muscle rope – right now I can’t even pull my body weight over a bar.

Time to get off truck of lazy and focus on making my life matter. Not just in the Jesus realm, in the physical too!

 

Imagine, if you will, alarm clock number one blares loudly from across the room at 4:30a.m. (yes, 4:30a.m. – we’ll discuss my inability to adhere to the self-imposed discipline of time management in another post) – anyways –

Alarm clock number one blared loudly from across the room at 4:30a.m.. It’s about six feet from the space where I continually dent my mattress (I bought one of those nosupposedtodent mattresses about six months before I had my weight loss surgery – dented it in three – and voided the warranty at the same time because I exceeded the weight allotment). I flipped the comforter off and heard something hit the floor. It sounded like a small bag of fish tank rocks plopped on a counter.

But before my brain could register something hit the floor, I promptly stepped in that:

trailmixAt least it wasn’t ice cream.

Everyday Sneakers. The front of the sneaker bends more than the gym sneaker, but the arch is solid as you can see.