It's official! As of yesterday, my total weight loss is 10 pounds! I stepped on the scale, closed my eyes, hesitated, but looked to see that I now weigh 222.
My job is full of mirrors. Not exactly the place to be if you want to be in denial of any aspect of your physical appearance. But, I caught a glimpse of myself and did a double take. My typically unflattering work shirt looked, well, better on me! This was the first time that my weight loss held more meaning than just a number flashing on a scale. My jeans are also a little more comfortable, but because of what I do for a living, I practically live in sweatpants, so it's hard to get a feel for my progress based on how my clothes feel. It won't even occur to me that I've lost any weight until a few months down the road, I go to put on a pair of my jeans and they fall off of me. *sigh* I'm so oblivious sometimes-that's what got me in this mess in the first place!
Oh yeah, so I survived my first pilates class. Again-mirrors, mirrors everywhere. I can't help but notice that at every group exercise class I've done, I'm the biggest person there. But this is the first one that I really thought about it for more than a moment of quick observation. Doing yoga and pilates poses isn't exactly easy when you've got all this extra baggage! But really, I'm now completely in love with pilates now. It's probably the most relaxing thing I've done in a long time, and it works muscles I didn't even know I had! So all the more reason to lose more weight-lose the belly fat and become a yoga, pilates, and tai chi junkie!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Beginning, middle, and end.
At 15, I was 5'4" and 270 pounds. Yikes. I look back on those pictures and think, "Jeez, I was a beast!" As a kid, my parents and I lived off of fast food. Our quality time together consisted of watching TV. Until of course, I got my own TV in my bedroom. Then I just watched TV alone and ate all day. Oh, dear mom and dad. I don't blame them. I think they did too many drugs in the 70's and just didn't know any better.
But all the same, I woke up once day and realized that I was out of control. I was a slave to my own body and I needed to do something. I turned off my TV. I stopped eating meal-sized "snacks" every couple of hours. I knew I needed some physical activity. I got up and started walking... I remember being winded and exhausted from walking the perimeter of our 1.5 acre yard.
Can't say I miss those days. I proceeded to lose 80 pounds over the next few years.
Then, at 20 I moved. I've been down here for a little over two years and gained 40 of that back. This time, I just chose to ignore the fact that none of my jeans fit anymore, thinking the weight would just disappear if I pretended it wasn't there. Well, obviously, that didn't work.
So. Two weeks and a day or two ago, my roommate\best friend tells me the gym I belong to is doing a Body Transformation contest. It goes for ten weeks, and whoever loses the most weight, body fat, and inches can win a cash prize. (How's that for motivation?) She tells me I should enter the contest. Without thinking, I say, "Ok!" Almost immediately after, I thought, "Shit-what am I getting myself INTO?!"
So my diet began first thing in the morning. The next few days were not fun. I was constantly hungry, I had a headache, I had no energy or motivation, and to top it off, she was still on me to enter the contest.
Do you know how hard it is to find any energy to work out when you feel like your stomach is turning in knots and eating itself? I made a few death threats to my roommate, I survived a few headaches and carb cravings, I went to bed feeling like my stomach was on fire for a few days, but you know what? I survived.
I entered the contest on January 14th. I weighed in at 232 pounds. My body fat was at 39%. If that's not a wake-up call, I don't know what is. That week, I lived off of 1600 calories. Anyone that would've touched a crumb of my food risked losing a limb. I worked out until I was covered in sweat and every inch of my body was exhausted.
One week later, January 21st, I weighed in at 229. I cut back to 1500 calories. I survived my first group exercise class. My attitude towards food was different. Firstly, I was less like a two year old and actually shared my snacks with my coworkers without threatening anyone. I wasn't counting down the minutes until my next precious snack or meal. Portion control has taken on a whole new meaning.
Over the past couple of days, I've been told by more than one person that I've got more energy than before. My best friend tells me I seem more confident. On a couple of occasions, I've even forgotten about my little snacks that I allow myself between meals. I just weighed myself today to find that I'm at 226. 6 pounds in two weeks? Not bad, not bad at all.
I didn't know I had it in me....
But all the same, I woke up once day and realized that I was out of control. I was a slave to my own body and I needed to do something. I turned off my TV. I stopped eating meal-sized "snacks" every couple of hours. I knew I needed some physical activity. I got up and started walking... I remember being winded and exhausted from walking the perimeter of our 1.5 acre yard.
Can't say I miss those days. I proceeded to lose 80 pounds over the next few years.
Then, at 20 I moved. I've been down here for a little over two years and gained 40 of that back. This time, I just chose to ignore the fact that none of my jeans fit anymore, thinking the weight would just disappear if I pretended it wasn't there. Well, obviously, that didn't work.
So. Two weeks and a day or two ago, my roommate\best friend tells me the gym I belong to is doing a Body Transformation contest. It goes for ten weeks, and whoever loses the most weight, body fat, and inches can win a cash prize. (How's that for motivation?) She tells me I should enter the contest. Without thinking, I say, "Ok!" Almost immediately after, I thought, "Shit-what am I getting myself INTO?!"
So my diet began first thing in the morning. The next few days were not fun. I was constantly hungry, I had a headache, I had no energy or motivation, and to top it off, she was still on me to enter the contest.
Do you know how hard it is to find any energy to work out when you feel like your stomach is turning in knots and eating itself? I made a few death threats to my roommate, I survived a few headaches and carb cravings, I went to bed feeling like my stomach was on fire for a few days, but you know what? I survived.
I entered the contest on January 14th. I weighed in at 232 pounds. My body fat was at 39%. If that's not a wake-up call, I don't know what is. That week, I lived off of 1600 calories. Anyone that would've touched a crumb of my food risked losing a limb. I worked out until I was covered in sweat and every inch of my body was exhausted.
One week later, January 21st, I weighed in at 229. I cut back to 1500 calories. I survived my first group exercise class. My attitude towards food was different. Firstly, I was less like a two year old and actually shared my snacks with my coworkers without threatening anyone. I wasn't counting down the minutes until my next precious snack or meal. Portion control has taken on a whole new meaning.
Over the past couple of days, I've been told by more than one person that I've got more energy than before. My best friend tells me I seem more confident. On a couple of occasions, I've even forgotten about my little snacks that I allow myself between meals. I just weighed myself today to find that I'm at 226. 6 pounds in two weeks? Not bad, not bad at all.
I didn't know I had it in me....
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