All about the Steps

In my head I’m singing that title along to the tune of “All About that Bass” because that was the end of my night… all about the steps.  All about that bass.  All about those curves.

I’ve signed up with the Carrot App to get rewards for getting my steps in every day.

It calculates based on the previous week what your average step goal is and adjusts up or down depending on how often you met (or didn’t meet) your goal.

And you get to find friends.  And play with challenges. And earn points to your favourite reward program.  I choose Petro-Points – I like cheaper gas.

So I challenged someone.  The goal is that for 1 week, together we meet our individual goals 10 times.  I could do 7 and she does 3.  We could each do 5.  Or whatever combination works to get us 10 met goals within the week.

Yesterday neither of us met our goal.  The day before we both did.

Today… she met hers. I was about 1500 steps to mine. I wanted to meet my goal. I also wanted to sit on my couch snuggled up with the blanket I’m crocheting and just chill for the rest of the night.

We’re watching a show on Netflix, hubby and I.  It’s enjoyable. And when the episode we’re watching is over, hubby is like… Another?

Sure.  Let’s go to bed, snuggle up and watch another episode of the Ozark.

But first…

It’s all about those steps.  All about that bass. All about getting my ass off the couch and meeting my goal.

And I did.

I discovered a couple things during that walk on my treadmill.

  1. I could have walked for another 20 mins past my goal (the hubby was waiting so I didn’t)
  2. The socks I was wearing are VERY wrong for speed walking.  Blisters on my feet man…. blisters on my feet.
  3. I enjoy being physical. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a new revelation in my life. I just keep forgetting it.
  4. My plantar faciitis/bruised heel is healing well – I can walk for an hour and I can run again on my treadmill.  This excites me – I have goals.

SO it’s all about the steps, bout the steps, no couch potato.  It’s all about those steps, bout those steps no couch potato…

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Back to Running

I’m dipping my feet back into the running pool.

Not literally – figuratively.  I got back on my treadmill and did Day 1 of Week 1 of C25K.

I have been off my treadmill, off my skates since mid-July. Plantar faciitis SUCK DONKEY BALLS.

I’m a happy girl. It gives me hope of getting back on my roller skates soon and playing roller derby again.  I remember how much I loved it – and I miss it.

And today – I was able to walk/run again. Despite the plantar faciitis.

Tomorrow?  Probably yoga. But Friday will be running again. I WILL get back to where I can play derby again.

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I wonder…

I wonder what I would look like skinny.

Slender.

Slim.

Fit.

I’ve gotten away from blogging recently, and I don’t know why. It’s a fantastic outlet for my thoughts and processes.

But yeah. That thought ran through my mind. What do I actually LOOK like at a healthy weight?

Closest I can come is a picture of me when my daughter was 5.

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I was skinny here.  but I thought I was fat.

I WAS overweight – I don’t know how much – maybe by 40 or 50lbs? But I wasn’t fat like I am now.

So I wonder… what would I look like skinny? At a healthy weight for my height?

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How strong would I be if I were fit and healthy in this picture? In my life in general?

Things I ponder on night shift….

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The Side Effects of Not Exercising

  1. Tired as fuck.
  2. No energy to work out.
  3. Circular pattern of tired as fuck so you have no energy to work out to boost the energy.
  4. Pants get tight.
  5. Sugary crap starts to look (and taste) good.
  6. Hating yourself because you ate the sugary crap.
  7. Eating more sugary crap because you feel like crap and something’s gotta make you feel better right?
  8. Feeling guilty and hiding the wrappers of all the sugary crap because your husband loves you and worries and calls you out on your shit when you eat the crap after telling him you want to be skinny and fit.
  9. Feeling bloaty because of #5-7
  10. Irregular bowel movements (this is a problem!!!)
  11. Feeling bloaty because of #10.
  12. Headaches.
  13. Hanger. All the time.
  14. Seriously unstable moods.
  15. Random anger flare ups.
  16. Random bursts of tears.
  17. Little in the way of joy.
  18. Lack of sex drive.

My life feels like it sucks right now. I haven’t been meal planning. I haven’t been exercising (damn you plantar faciitis!!) and I’ve made all sorts of excuses to eat a donut, drink coffee with cream and sugar, candy, chips, fudge (ooohhhh the fudge!) and generally lots of CRAP.

And I have like, NO sex drive.

None. Nada. Zero. Zip. Zilch.

When I’m having sex (despite the lack of drive – I have this theory of use it or lose it entirely) I feel bloaty and gross.  He lays on me and I struggle to breathe. Body parts hurt cuz fat and stiff joints.

My connection with my husband is suffering.

I come home from work… pass out on him. He tries to wake me up…and I’m too tired in the morning.

If I were to exercise, would it improve my sex drive?

I don’t actually know. But I DO know that since I’ve been NOT exercising, my mood has dipped. And I’m not having sex.  That when I was exercising on a regular basis, I was having sex on a regular basis and I wasn’t an ANGRY TEARY ABOUT TO EXPLODE IN ANGER OR EMOTIONAL MELT DOWN person to live with. And really.. who actually wants to have sex with that person? I don’t.

Can you imagine? “Oh honey this feels so OMG I”M SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW… no wait.. *bursts into tears* Ok lets keep going…”

Yeah. No.

Ok it’s not actually like that but some days in my head it feels like it.

So here’s my thought process.  I need time to write – I haven’t been blogging.

And I need time to exercise. It’s gotta be a priority.  Hubs has offered to work out with me and on Wednesday that will become a reality.  Walks, some sort of weights, and fuck the plantar faciitis, I’m running again.  (Ok maybe really just doing deep water running)

But I need to exercise. I need to see if it adjusts a few things.

Because I really want to want sex again. I like sex. I like sex with my husband.  I just need that drive back.

Exercise Underutilized

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Fuck Stress Eating

I had a day today.

I’m currently working night shift.  Got zero sleep today, will get zero (except maybe an hour or so while getting my tattoo) sleep tomorrow.

I may be able to nap on my break.

I cleaned my house.

I conversed with my landlord about my housing situation (long story, we’re all hoping not to be homeless in August).

I had a conversation with my mother about her dog. And a road trip.  And how I was not interested in adding 3 or 4 hours drive onto my drive home on Sunday (7 hours already and you want me to detour for another 3 or 4 when I found a solution so I don’t have to?)

By the time 4pm hit, I was stressed to the hilt.  Still cleaning my house, peeking into the pantry every time I cleaned something back there and checking out the chips there. Thinking about the cheesecake bites in the freezer.

I tried to call someone – but she was busy and then it didn’t happen.

My Sexxy Chef was at work.

I was on the verge.  The stress eating was almost there.

And then… I looked at the time, looked at my treadmill and got dressed and went for a run.

2 awesome things happened.

  1. I wasn’t as stressed.  That diminished considerably
  2. I ran faster today for a longer, more sustained period of time than I have before.

I’m on week 2 of C25K. 90 seconds running, 2 mins walking.

I’m running at 5 miles per hour. For 90. Fucking. Seconds.

So take THAT stress eating.

Fuck right off.

Because I ran my stress away.  And I did it BETTER than I have before.

I PUSHED myself because I was angry.

And I DID it.

Fuck stress eating.  I’m going to go for a run when I’m stressed.  It’s way better.

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Quit and Do What?

I have a trainer that says “Quit and Do What?”

Well. I have an answer.

Eat ice cream.

Drink wine and ceasars.

Watch a lot of bad TV. (and some good)

Eat big juicy hamburgers with chips and dip at BBQ’s with family and friends.

So quit and do what?  Whatever I want without guilt.

But the question that came to me this morning… is not quit and do what… but.. who am I cheating?

When we cheat on our diets – who are we cheating on? What benefit is there?

If someone cheats on a test – they have the potential to get a better grade, pass the test or what have you.  So really – there’s BENEFIT to cheating on a test.

If we cheat on our diets – who benefits? Where’s the pay off?

So quit and do what doesn’t work for me.  But who am I cheating if I quit or sneak a bite or sneak a cookie?  Me.  That’s who. I am cheating me and my goals and my desires.

And I’m worth not being cheated on.

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Running… again.

Oh hey!  *knock knock knock*

Is this thing on?  Are you still there dear reader? (or non-reader as the case may be)

It’s been a while since I last blogged.  *pauses writing to go check how long*

Holy shit since January 14!

Lots has been going on.

I got fatter.

I stopped exercising.

I made excuses.

I started working a lot.

I just stopped caring.

And then I woke up.  And I started caring again.

See here’s the thing about depression and anxiety and stress.

It sucks the life and energy out of you.

So you stop caring.  And you stop taking care of you.

Showers were a “just before I have to work or if it’s been longer than 2 days” thing.

Brushing teeth was when they were fuzzy – and did you know if you chew the gum with the hard shells they rarely get fuzzy? And your breath stays nice.

Candy, chips, alcohol… those were mainstays of my nights.

I simply stopped caring.

And then I joined up with a couple of groups/challenges.  Jumpstart 4.0 with My1fwtraining. An offshoot of that – running basics.

And 3 days before the running basics, I had a meltdown.  I don’t fit into my wedding dress (46 days to go, yo!) and I can’t play roller derby.

I cried. I whined. I made excuses. I blamed everything (my job, my relationship, my love of sex…)

And finally – I woman’d up.

I stopped making the excuses and got my ass on the treadmill.

I did an ab workout.

I said no to donuts and cookies at work.

And today.  Today with the mother of all excuses… (sick overnight, got my period, period day 1 is stupid, slow and painful, not drinking water, ate 2 ice cream bars, overall no energy) I got on the treadmill this evening.

I did my day 2 of C25K.

I did my ab workout.

I have the foam roller waiting to go.

I have not had a perfect day by any means.

I have had a day where normally I would have said.. fuck it. I’ll run tomorrow.

And I would have ate all the candy and the chip and drunk all the wine.

And I would have beaten myself up about 10.30pm.

But now? I’m still not perfect. I just popped 3 gummy candies in my mouth. I’ve had a couple chips. I drank the rest of my wine (and another glass will be poured)

But I’ve also refilled my water bottle and will drink that before foam rolling.

I’m not perfect.

But even with the mother of all excuse days, I still honoured my commitment to MYSELF and did my run and ab workout.

Because I’m the only one I’m accountable to. In the end, I’m the one who has to live in my skin. And lately.. it’s not been a fun place to be.

So cheers to you, dear reader… because I feel freaking FANTASTIC tonight.  Despite day one of the stupid temper tantrum my uterus has once a month.

Honour those commitments to yourself.  They’re what keeps you going.

Posted in Exercise, Fitness, One Fit Widow, Running, Self-esteem | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment