Finding the Source of Motivation

Wow, I've been gone a long time. You forgive me, right?

Clearly, I've gotten off track. I've had (I'm having?) what you'd call motivational issues. It always amazes me how I can look at my body, feel my body, carry around my body and know I'm unhealthy, and yet have no desire to change anything. 

Over the past few months, I've pretty much erased any progress I'd made. It disgusts me, but at the same time, I know it will do absolutely no good telling myself I've failed. I don't need to continue this self-destructive cycle. 

I need to break it. Make improvements. Get right back on the ole' bandwagon and try again. 

Here's the thing: I'm not sure how I want to approach this. I've thought about joining Weight Watchers. I've thought about following Jillian's "plan" she puts forth in "Master Your Metabolism." I've thought about counting calories and macronutrients on SparkPeople.com. I've thought about joining a gym. I've thought about doing workout DVDs and my WiiFit. 

But I've tried all these things before, and always, I stop trying after a few months. I don't want to hit rock bottom before I finally make a permanent change, but I can't seem to muster up enough motivation to stick with a program, no matter what kind of program it is. I guess it doesn't make sense to think of "motivation" as a mystical gift I'll wake up with one day. In fact, I've got a sneaking suspicion my "motivation" is something I'll have to work for, scrounge for under the couch cushions of my mind and body. 

Some people use their kids, their spouses, the threat of cancer or heart disease, or a big, amazing goal to reach as their motivation. What's yours? (Maybe it will help me find mine.)

Wow, I Smell Really Bad

I just got back from Week 1, Day 2 of Couch to 5K. Yeah, I know, I completed Day 2 a full week after Day 1, but we're going to roll with it. I am tired. I'll be sore tomorrow. I'm sweaty and really, really smelly (like wow, I didn't think my body could smell that bad smelly). But I did it. And I didn't stop early, not even once (not even when I thought I was on the 5-minute walk-to-cool-down bit, and I was surprised with one more "Jog for 30 seconds!" bit)!

So while today was a physically easier, I'm pretty sure my mind wasn't in the right place. When I started running today, I felt like the fat kid at P.E. No matter how overweight I've been, and no matter how out of shape I am, I've never felt like the person that just couldn't do it. Today, I did, and I don't want to feel like that ever again. Last week (and maybe it's because it was still Day 1 and I was being naive), even though I felt like I just.couldn't.keep.running, I tried, and usually made it, and the next time the faster techno music signaled to run for 30 seconds, it didn't occur to me that I might not make it until I was just a few seconds shy from the 30 second mark. This week, I felt like that while I was still walking. So even though this week was actually easier physically than last week, it felt like such a mountainous challenge compared with last week's. And even more, nothing about the routine had changed.

It was all in my head, and I'm not sure why. Even at 214 pounds, with my doctor kindly telling me to get off my ass, I had pretty good self-esteem. I know I'm a gorgeous girl, I'm funny and smart, and even though my body overweight and out of shape, that's not who I am. I wouldn't be able to do this if I didn't love myself (which is why I ALWAYS harp on people who are beating themselves up). So it was just very strange to hear myself thinking "you can't do this; you're too fat; you're not gonna make it; you'll never be healthy or thin" today. It took all of my strength to stop thinking those self-abusive thoughts and search for the things that would encourage me. Today? It was noticing how good my shadow looked while running. At least it looked like it knew what it was doing.

So that's that, then. Week 1, Day 2 DONE. Here's to Friday finally wrapping up Week One of this thing (If I can make it to Friday, it will be the furthest I've ever gotten with C25K--I've started it twice before, and never made it past Day 2).

I ran today.

And while I don't actually look all that proud to have completed Week 1, Day 1 of Couch to 5K here, I actually am. Really proud.

I was watching episodes 2 and 3 of The Biggest Loser on Hulu last night, and I realized something: when it comes to working out, I am a Joelle. And if you've seen this season or even read the play-by-plays, you know this is not a good thing. I give any reason under the sun not to push myself. Now, I don't know how I'd be with a trainer, because I've never had one. I've relied on myself to push myself, and we know how troublesome that can be. "Myself" thinks it's okay to constantly take things slow, and while taking it slow when I'm just starting out is good, but there's a marked difference between "taking it slow" and "taking it nowhere." "Myself" is lazy, likes to be sitting down, and hates to be sweaty, out of breath, and in pain. Which is, of course, the state of things after today's interval training. Who knew that jogging for 30 seconds would be so ridiculously hard for me? But you know what? I did it. Only once did I stop jogging before the 30 seconds was up (I'm using the Podrunner: Intervals Podcast until I can find someting less techno-tastic) and I only stopped a few seconds too soon--maybe 3? Still, I have a feeling that if Bob or Jillian were training me, they'd tear me a new one for those few seconds. Not that I would mind either Bob or Jillian yelling at me. They are the hotness.

So here we go. Week 1, Day 1, done.

If I don't tell you guys on Friday how I did for Week 1, Day 2, I am begging you to kick my ass. I need this. Call yourself Jillian if you have to.

It's a New Day!

Just under an hour ago, Barack Obama was sworn in as our President. I've been listening to Will.i.am's "It's a New Day" since he released it just after Obama swept the polls, and it's become not only a really great song to mark this historic moment in our lives, but a really great song to wake up to. I play it when I need motivation to get moving, and it reminds me that I'm not just this insular creature, but involved in the world's motion.

A Breath of Fresh Air

Fall 2008 Semester? I kicked your ass. Hopefully.

My professors haven't graded my papers yet, so maybe I missed, and only kicked the thighs. Or shins. Either way, it's out of my hands now (except for the one class in which we all got extensions because he's expecting masterpieces). I'm even done grading.

Can it really be true that I've moved to Mississippi, finished my first semester of grad school, taught my first course, lost between 25 and 30 pounds, AND gotten engaged? Whew, no wonder I'm exhausted. (And next semester is shaping up to be even busier!)

So other than the paper I have to write, I'm using this break to recoup. To relax. To actively focus on my health. I made kind of a SNAFU of things over Thanksgiving break, and I'm determined not to let the same thing happen over Christmas break. Stay on me, people, in the spirit of kicking this year's shins.

Gratitude.

I'll admit, I'm a bit of a grumpus. I complain. I stress. I let things get to me. I try to at least be funny about it, but the fact remains that I'm negative way more than I should be. So I try to be grateful. I'm not as cool as Oprah as to keep an actual gratitude journal, but I am learning to stop and meditate on the little kind actions people take when they don't have to.

I had an optometrist's appointment yesterday (I have the worst vision...I can't see anything clearly if it's not 6 inches in front of my face). I was Dr. Strickland's first patient, and I got into the office even before his office employees did. He greeted me as I came in, and did the most thorough eye exam I've ever gotten. He was more than a good optician, though. He was interested in my life, and talked to me like I was important. I've got a follow-up appointment with him next week, and so he gave me his business card. On the back, there was a handwritten note wishing me the best in my studies, as well as him telling me how glad he was to meet me.

I have a classmate who I've yet to see in a bad mood. I've never heard him utter a mean word about anyone.

Last week, we had a rainy day, and a passing professor (who they didn't know) gave some of my students his umbrella.

Dustin drove 17 hours (round trip) just to spend a weekend with me.

This may be a stretch, but I think that one of the hindrances to my striving to be healthy is my attitude. Failing to recognize the things I should be grateful for regularly tends to put me in a bad mood, especially after a long or exhausting day. When I'm in a bad mood, I make unhealthy decisions. Being stressed and constantly negative is itself unhealthy. I know this about myself: the more I focus on the good things I life, the less significant the bad things are. This is not to say that I ignore the problems in my life, but that I give them the weight they deserve, and no more.

I end with a quote, and a ridiculously cute picture.

The happiness of a man in his life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions. -Alfred Lord Tennyson

Video

I wasn't tech-savvy enough to figure out how to embed the video here, but I suggest you take a look at this video (Thanks to Roni for the link).

I love that this video talks about wanting a healty ideal instead of a thin one. I like to think that I really am shooting for health this time with my weight loss. And while I definitely am making better choices for better reasons, I still allow myself to slip back into thinking that thinness is the goal (which is the reason behind my endless frustration when my weight has increased every day this week beyond any explanation I have to offer). This video is a good reminder for me. I'm in this for the long run, for a long and healthy life.

Aside: I love that this was started by a sorority. A video like this was just not something I expect from a sorority. Ending breast cancer, sure, but ending negative dialougue about weight? It just wasn't in my stereotype. I was never in a sorority, but I date a (non-typical) fratboy, and I teach college sophomores and juniors at the University of Mississippi--a HUGE Greek-oriented school. To be perfectly honest, I have TONS of anti-Greek feelings. I just don't get it. On my good days, I think the organizations are stupid, exclusionary, centered on gendered, racist, and classist ideals, and a distraction for my students' real purpose in going to college--learning. And that's on my good days. On my bad days? Well, let's just hope I'm not teaching on a bad day. (I will add, though, that many of my Greek students--and almost all of them are in a sorority or fraternity--surprise me.)

The Sun Will Come Out... Tomorrow!!

(Was I the only one who wanted to be Little Orphan Annie as a child?)

Yes, folks, I am in a MUCH better mood today. I think I just needed to get it all out of my system. (And get it out of my system I did! My apologies for all the negativity!!)

I'm down to 192 today, so I'm continuing to show some loss this week. I'm only 2 pounds away from getting the Birmingham weekend weight off again. Just in time for Dustin to visit me again in a couple of weekends!! I'm stoked about him coming to Oxford (like, it's all I can think about stoked), but I seriously need to not go overboard while he's here. My aim is to maintain that weekend. Maintenance is so, so good.

This loss puts me at only 9 pounds left before Christmas. There are 11 weeks left, so I still think I can do it. I just have to be careful the weekend Dustin visits, and the week I have off for Thanksgiving. I think if I shoot for maintenance those weeks, I'll still have plenty of room to reach my goal.

Also, I don't get winded anymore when I walk up to my 3rd floor office, and climbing up the huge hill to my normal parking space isn't the monumental journey I thought it was just a little over a month ago. I'm wearing 14s now, and my bras are too big (which isn't a good thing, but it is, too).

So seriously, to all of you who left me happy comments, encouraging comments, sympathizing comments, "Sister, I've been there" comments, thank you. I needed it, and I appreciate how absolutely freaking amazing you all are. THANK YOU!!!

Confession

I ate an ENTIRE medium pepperoni pizza for dinner, along with almost a liter of Diet Coke, and half a thing of CinnaStix. What the hell? Am I trying to kill myself?

I'm not trying to sound self-defeating, but seriously, what was up with my eating ALL of that food? I think it has a lot to do with my feeling pretty bummed out the past couple of days. I am soooo grateful I took a weekend off to be with Dustin, but I've been struggling to keep up with my work this week (I'm miserably behind). I've been skipping the "pink pill" week of my BC, which I know isn't supposed to change anything (considering that the 'period' you have on pink pill week isn't even a true period), but I swear, I'm PMSing. And also, I miss Dustin. A lot. In fact, I'll venture into pathetic-land and say that I'm miserable without him here with me. I can't believe we have to struggle through another 15 months of this mess. Seriously, I've never been glad for time to go by so quickly, but the sooner we all get to December 2009, the better.

Self-pity diatribe ceased.

10%, Gone. Forever. Amen.

If I were a Weight Watchers member, I'd be getting a token of some sort. Since January 1st of this year, I've lost a total of 21.6 pounds, or just a tad bit more than 10% of my original body weight of 214 pounds.

I'll never forget that day I visited my doctor in December. It was for my yearly ladies' exam, and as much as we all hate those, I've got a really awesome OB/GYN. She's non-judgmental, honest, and is always open to listening to my health needs. It had been a long, hard semester. I'd be graduating in the spring, and I was busy trying to put together all my grad school applications, write my honor's thesis, keep my apartment from falling apart, trying to keep my job together (I was the secretary for a small church that had a terrible pastor for only 6 months. I got all the reverb from those miserable 6 months). I'd been gaining weight steadily since my last bout with Weight Watchers in 2006. I'd been with Dustin for about 8 months, and the evidence of our many restaurant dates hung uncomfortably on my middle. And more, I was feeling, emotionally, miserable. I was happy with school, and head over heels in love with Dustin, but I was beginning to let my self-esteem slip back to middle-school levels, which is to say, really, really bad. I was irritable, easily frustrated, and completely dependent on others (mainly Dustin) to keep me happy and thinking positively about myself.

I shouldn't have been suprised when April (my ob/gyn) told me, rather frankly, I needed to watch my weight. She asked me how I'd been eating, how I was handling my stress, and after I told her how I was doing pretty miserably with both, she matter-of-factly told me what kinds of foods I should be eating and that it would help me both physically and emotionally to find an outlet for my stress. I cried as I left her office, feeling like I'd completely failed myself. I kept replaying the nurse's face as she scribbled my weight on my chart. She didn't grimace or scoff, but I was horrified, more at myself than what she thought. 214 was the heaviest I'd ever been, and I realized how quickly that number could continue to rise.

For a month or so, I continued to beat myself up, aware that I needed to change my habits, but not ready to do anything about it. I don't even know what snapped in my mind, but Dustin and I started going to the gym at our school together. I began using the Weight Watchers system as a rough guide for my diet. I started this blog, and reading others. I joined SparkPeople.com. And the weight started coming off. More importantly, I was feeling so much better. So much healthier. So much more alive.

Towards the end of the spring semester, my upcoming graduation (and all the stress entailed) consumed my energies, and I let myself slowly slip away from all my progress. The 15 pounds or so I'd lost since January were slowly adding back on. I was preparing to move to Oxford, Miss (to go to Ole Miss for my Masters), and I just didn't think I could handle both trying to lose weight and preparing for grad school. In these three or four months, I continued to read blogs and I usually cooked healthily at home, so I only gained 5 or 6 pounds back.

Slowly, I'm learning that my goal is not to lose weight. It's not be a size 10, or to be skinny, or to even look sexy in a swimsuit (although those things must be very, very nice). I want to be healthy. I want to be vibrant and alive throughout all of my life, and I want my life to be long. I want to enjoy all the days I get to spend with Dustin and my family and friends. I want to feel confident in my body; I want it to reflect the beautiful and spunky person I truly am. I feel held back by the condition I've let my body come to, and I want to let myself grow out of it. So really, although I typically talk about this blog as a weight-loss blog, it's really not that. It's about letting myself grow.

Yesssss!

So, guess what? I'm at 194 today. Which is the *lowest* I've been all year. And probably most of last year, too. I've been eating so well this week, I've had fun watching it pay off. And feeling it pay off, too.

Seeing that number this morning was really great encouragement for me to keep it up. I'll be at school today from 8 am to 7 pm, Thursdays are always really, really difficult for me to get through without wanting to kill someone (teaching 3 sections of sophomores who "hate" literature will do that to a book lover), so I'm determined to remember that 194 can soon be 184 if I just keep with it and don't give up! "Never give up, never, never give up." I am worth this effort. My body deserves it.

We Were Born to Be in Love With Our Bodies

This video was made as part of a new ad campaign for Planned Parenthood. And whatever your views on PP are, I'd encourage you to watch this, because I think the message is important for all people, and I'm not just talking about healthy sex here. If you take out the phrase "our reproductive selves" and "down there" and replace it with "our healthy selves" and "of our full selves," you can get a sense that really, somewhere along the lines, we've forgotten how to love ourselves.



If you had video issues, here's the text, which I'm gonna print out (edited to be relevant to overall health and not just sexual health) and put on my fridge:

We were born to be in love with our bodies.
Ask any three year old.
But somewhere down the road to growing up,
we put our healthy selves in the dark.
Rather than worry about what went wrong, we should remember:
It's never too late to know ourselves.
After all, we are ultimately in charge of our bodies.
It may be the most important responsibility we have.
Starting today, let's make a pact: to make our bodies our best friends.
So that when we make decisions,
we're empowered and aware.

And let's promise

to pass that power on by asking everyone to join us...
and take care of our full selves.

Alone

Question: Do y'all do better with your diets and exercise alone, or with a partner (be it your spouse, best friend, or Weight Watchers meeting cohorts)?

I've been alone in Oxford (Mississippi, not the cool one in England) for a little over a week now, and I can't decide if I'm doing better or not. I cook healthier foods, and I have the luxury of cooking vegetarian meals now that will actually get eaten (Dustin has a toddler-like disdain for most vegetables). On the other hand, I've been considerably less active without him. Dustin was my fitness partner--we got each other to go to they gym, we took walks together, and when we were living together, we both tended to be more active with the other person there. Unfortunately, he's still in Augusta, finishing up his degree (16 months and counting!), and we've both noticed that neither of us are ready to get off our rear ends and go to the gym without the other one to go with us.

There's supposed to be a park close to my house (I haven't found it yet), but I'm reticent to go by myself. I don't know anyone in this city yet, and if I were to go missing, no one would notice. And also, I'm used to working out with a partner. It's hard for me to get motivated without someone there, sweating up a storm with me. (Excuses? Maybe. But I'm sticking with them, for now.)

So what do you guys do when you're alone and need motivation to be healthy?

Frustrated and Tired

I finished my last undergraduate exam last week (an appropriate finish: I got to exempt it based on my average test grade and super-high paper grade!). I'm tired, but the apartment is clean, so it's okay.

I'm getting ready to apartment shop in Oxford. My mom and I are taking a road trip next Wednesday (I graduate this Saturday) to find a place for me to live. The prospects I've looked at online so far are okay, definitely livable, but nothing that just really feels right.

As far as weight-loss goes, I've been avoiding all aspects of it for about a month now. I'm feeling it again--the tiredness, the irritability, the bloat, and general inability to be active. It's showing in my pictures again, too--I don't like most of the pictures taken on my birthday because my face has that ridiculous chubbiness to it again.

I'm finding it hard to get motivated, and I'm usually a fairly strong self-motivator, so I'm not sure what's up--all my usual techniques are falling to the wayside in favor of delivery pizza and Reese's Pieces.

Thank you, Mike!

One of the perks my gym reeled me in with was the free fitness assessments they provide. I had mine today (with, yet again, another ridiculously cute gym guy...what's up with those?) In the test, my body fat % was measured, along with my flexibility, heart rate, stamina, and strength. I thought I would be really embarrassed by my results for these tests, but Mike (oh, Mike!) was the nicest guy. He was really encouraging, and when I told him what I've been doing for the past month and a half, he was surprised and impressed that I knew what I was doing. Apparently, people that come through the gym trying to lose weight are starving themselves and doing light exercise once a week and expecting the pounds to come off.

But enough of everyone else, my scores... My body fat composition was, of course, rated "poor" (the scale goes from Poor to Very Good) but I'm only a few points away from the next bracket up, so if I lose a couple of inches or so, I'll be better with that rating. My heart rate was average, stamina good, and flexibility Very Good! I wanted a gold star for that one (Yay yoga!!). My strength test was a little pathetic, so he encouraged me to step up my game on the strength training front.

I'm to stay on track, and see him again in three months. Oh Mike, how do I count the days...