My Rollerskating Fantasy (or, the truth hurts, literally)

Everybody knows I start getting anxious when I know my babies are going to be going away with my ex husband. I start thinking about doing something nice for them before they go. I start thinking about a fun memory to tide us over until we see each other again. Well, being low on funds and short on ideas I was ecstatic when a half off depot deal came through my inbox. Rollerskating for 4 including skate rental for only 20 dollars! We've lived behind sparkles rollerskating rink for 3 years now and we've never once been. It's quite pricey when you start adding up all the roller skate rentals as well as admission, and I've just never had the extra money sitting around, but 20 dollars for all 4 of us (Elizabeth was at a church retreat)....... I can see it now.....

My kids and I holding hands and gliding gracefully around the roller rink, laughing and having a fabulous time. Maybe one of the little ones would fall on their little behind. There'd be a shocked look on their face and then a burst of laughter. I'd reach down and pull them to their feet and off we'd go again.

Then, I dreamed of the calorie burn. Wow... rollerskating would be great exercise. Maybe I'd really like it, and be good at it (after all I grew up ice skating and was fine with that... how much harder than ice skating could it be?) and I'd start going there for good exercise a few times a week. I looked it up. 700 calories and hour! wow! awesome. I could feel the excitement in the air. That's it.

BUY DEAL NOW! Yes, please!

So thursday morning (the morning before they are due to go off with their dad for ten days to Florida) we set out to be at the door when it opens at 10. Everybody is really excited. This is a new experience for us. Sammy and Abby have roller-skated a few times with school events, but mom has never been with them, and Mom makes everything more fun! (I will be sad when this stops being true for them)

 I  took a few pictures for posterity. Here's Abby getting on her skates.
  I stand. I wobble. Ok. This will take me a few minutes to get used to. I haven't ice skated for 10-15 years so it will take a few minutes to come back to me. My attitude is still good, but somewhere in the back of my mind warning bells are going off. I tune them out.

I do a granny shuffle on my skates over to the wall. This rink has a wall running along only one short side of the rink. That's not cool. Okay. Let's go back and forth along the wall a few times to get the feel of things. This is not so bad... the kids immediately head out around the rink with the fearlessness that accompanies childhood. Abby falls on her butt a few times but quickly gets the hang of it and starts going around fairly efficiently for a kid who has only done this a couple of times in her life.

 Jackson falls on his butt a time or two, makes a drama production of falling and waits for me to notice, and then decides to quit. Too hard. I feel a bit of disappointment because he gives up on stuff he finds hard so quickly. I wish he'd just give it ten minutes. He goes over to the indoor playground and Sammy, Abby and I are left on the rink. Turns out if we had all followed Jackson's lead, things might have ended better.

Sammy lacks grace completely, but you can tell in his mind he's a roller skating dance star. I'd love to live in his mind for a day or two to see what it's like. He's happy though, going round and round. He's kind of shuffling, but he's not falling. I'm impressed.

Meanwhile I'm on the wall. Having gone back and forth several times I'm picking up speed and holding on to the wall less. I'm starting to gain a bit of confidence. This is harder than I remember ice skating to be. I wonder if I'd do better on the roller blades. They mimic ice skates more than the roller skates do, but it's too late now. I'm just going to go with the roller skates. Then it happens.

Why is it that when you fall it happens so fast but seems to go in agonizing slow motion. My skate clad foot slips suddenly from under me and my arms whirl in circles trying to maintain my balance. Evidently I whirled the wrong way, because out goes my other foot and I land hard on my butt. All 205 pounds of me. Before I have time to think "ouch" my upper half follows my bottom half and slams backwards onto the hard maple floor. My head punctuates the fall with a resounding crack that sends shockwaves through my whole body. The mom who is intelligently sitting at the picnic table on her laptop while her kids skate jumps up and runs around the wall from 20 feet away. She's like "are you okay???? I heard your head crack the floor from all the way over there!" I'm sitting there, having struggled to a sitting position. "I don't know" I answer truthfully,"I think I need to go sit for a bit". So I carefully shuffle my way over to the nearest seat and roller skating staff come up to me with a big bag of ice, for which I am thankful. Damn, that hurt. Yes, I said Damn. That was way too painful for a dang.

My kids gather around me, questioning me and coddling me. I, not wanting to wreck their fun, pretend to be just fine. "Oh, clumsy mommy bonked her head! I'll be fine! Just go skate, I'll join you in a minute!". In my head I'm thinking "great, I'm gonna have brain damage." I had just finished a book, THAT morning, about a woman's journey with brain injury. I texted my husband and told him that if my personality was changed when he got home to take me to the ER. I sat for a few minutes with the ice on my head. No goose egg was forming, and I was feeling ok, more or less, other than my head hurting like heck.

I granny shuffled back to the wall, but something had taken hold of me. FEAR. I was scared to keep roller skating. I was in a lot of throbbing head pain, and the fall had happened so fast and unexpectedly that I really was worried about falling again. To top things off, we had the rink basically to ourselves since we got there, but now a daycare came in and there were now about 35 kids speeding around the rink showing a good bit of skill that spoke of them coming here often. I felt even more old and clumsy and uncoordinated than I had just been starting to feel after the fall, but I was also worried about these moving landmines called the daycare kids. How much control could people moving that fast have? I mean, I certainly couldn't get out of the way quickly, so could they?

Abby urged me to try going around the outside of the rink with her, so I started slowly moving around the rink, praying to God I wouldn't fall again and smash my aching head. A nice lady came up to me and gave me some "first timer" tips. Look straight ahead, not at the floor. Keep my arms still, don't swing them. It helped. Thank you kind stranger! Soon Abby was way ahead of me, and I was making my way slowly around the rink. Eventually I got to the wall again and decided to hang out there for a while. I mean, why push my luck right? And then she fell.

My baby. She fell, and unlike the other times, she didn't get up. She didn't even move. She just curled up into a ball and lay there. I couldn't hear her from across the room, with the loud music, but I knew she was crying, because a mom just knows.  Great. This is when I want to run to her and make sure she's okay. Obviously I can't run. I can barely stay on my feet. As quick as I can I skate over to her. I reach her, and then I pass her... I'm scared to try to stop using the rubber tip thing, because I can see myself flying forward onto my face, but I got up too much speed trying to get to her to actually glide nicely to a stop beside her. So I am trying to WILL my skates to slow and somehow, just the force of my will throws me off balance and I fall to the ground beside her. Onto my elbow. The most excruciating electric pain shoots from my elbow up to my fingertips and then suddenly I can't feel my arm at all. EXCEPT for my elbow, which is now throbbing in time to my head. I really want to burst into tears at this point because it hurts so so so bad, but mommy fear wins out and I kind of crawl over to my baby girl. "Abby, are you okay baby?"
"no mommy, it hurts!"
"what hurts"
"my wrist!'
I look at it. Go through the mommy check list

bones protruding through skin? no. check.
blood? no. check
swelling? no. check
I take her arm and gently flex her wrist up and down. she flinches but it moves. her fingers bend just fine. I start to breathe easier.
then I rotate her wrist back and forth a little.

She screams.

She pulls her arm away from me. "mommy, don't turn it, please don't turn it. It hurts." Tears are rolling down her face. By this time, we've attracted the attention of the sparkles people and two people approach.The DJ clears the rink of skaters and I totally don't feel conspicuous at all. yeah. They want to know if she's okay. She is just terrified they are going to turn her arm. she says "don't touch it, please, please, please!"

They take control. They start unlacing her roller skates, and I think to myself what a fabulous idea that is, and I start unlacing mine. I'm done with roller skating. By the time I have my skates off Abby is up and they are walking her off the rink. I follow and they bring her ice. They must have a good collection of baggies, because this is the second time today they've brought my family ice in a baggie.

Abby, who is a real trouper, and one of those kids who tends to wipe herself off and move on, is not moving on. She has completely lost her fabulous sense of humor, and as I hold her she just leans her head on me and looks at me with giant sad eyes. After 20 minutes she is still in pain, and though there is no discernible swelling or anything to indicate that this is more than maybe a bad sprain, my mommy instinct kicks in. I call Josh and ask him where I should go to get an x-ray. He suggests I wait a day, or a few hours. No, I have to go now. I just know. He is smart enough not to mess with mama bear instinct and directs me to Children's Healthcare. 35 dollar copay instead of 100 for ER. Smart man. I have a bad feeling, because my baby is not bouncing back, and if my baby is anything, she's bouncy. I have personally experienced the exquisite hardness of this floor twice today, and just maybe this is more than a sprain. Better safe than sorry.

I drop the boys at home and head to Childrens Healthcare in Duluth.

My trouper is not saying much. Once she says "mommy, why is it still hurting so much??"  and I say "I don't know baby. that's why we are going to the doctor. He can x-ray it and see what is going on.". My girl is healthy. I don't know that she's ever even had an x-ray except at the dentist.  I tell her that it won't hurt to get an x-ray and they won't give her a shot. I can tell she is still scared, but I also know she just doesn't want it to hurt anymore. She's willing to go to a strange doctor and get a strange xray if they will stop the hurting.

Children's was fabulous. We didn't have to wait more than about 20 minutes to see somebody, and quickly thereafter we... well...

The pictures tell it all.. ouchy Abby waiting for her x-ray. Yep, that's a broken arm. and happy Abby after a massive dose of motrin and a full arm cast.

Abby said "Mommy, I don't like roller skating anymore, and I don't want to have my next birthday party there after all".

I said "oh baby, I don't like roller skating either and I'm sorry your day was so bad. I wanted to give you a fun and memorable day before you left with daddy tomorrow, and instead your arm got broken"

She said "well, it WAS fun before I fell. and it WAS memorable. I won't forget breaking my arm!"

That's my girl. Looking on the bright side!

So my roller skating fantasy was just that. A fantasy. I am essentially a giant accident waiting to happen, and my children are not naturally athletically gifted, and what the heck was I thinking anyway.

really.

rollerskating sucks.

It is now sunday (actually monday morning, at 3:59 because my sleep has been all messed up since this happened) and I am just now starting to feel better. I have been slightly nauseous and not able to think clearly and quickly for 3 days now. Each day I feel a little better. Friday and Saturday I could barely move my body. I hurt everywhere. Today my body aches are much better. My elbow is black and purple and blue, my head aches where it hit the floor. I am struggling over spelling things and remembering things I ought to know. I believe I may have sustained a mild concussion.

I should have worn a helmet. Except I don't own one because I don't have a bike, and also, my roller skating fantasy didn't have anybody wearing helmets. Sending my baby off with her dad the day after she broke her arm just about killed me. I don't trust him with her because he is not me. I felt better that he brought a stuffy and a pillow when he picked her up. It made me feel he was worried about her comfort. I hope he spoils her some, because they are at a condo on the beach and she can't get her cast wet. How fun will that be? I pray he protects it from getting any sand in it. I pray she won't be itchy, swelling, or in any way uncomfortable. She can't even draw to pass the time, because she's right handed and broke her right wrist. Poor baby.

I don't even have an uplifting way to finish this post. No encouraging words to share.... except maybe that I encourage you to stay away from roller skating rinks :)

Tomorrow I try to get back to my workouts. I haven't done anything since last wednesday because I didn't feel well enough on friday to go workout and this weekend I have been resting and trying to get my brain working on all cylinders again. My trainer promises she will take it easy on me. As long as I have sneakers on my feet and not wheels I'll be okay I think.

I just thank God I didn't kill myself, or break something like Abby did. ugh.

Let's just call this a LEARNING EXPERIENCE. If something becomes a learning experience then it makes it better right? I learned that my baby is super tough and I'm so proud of her. I learned that I should not do exercise involving wheels. I learned that shaking up your brain, even a little, is a scary thing, and that I should avoid it at all costs. Last but not least I learned that writing a blog entry at 4 in the morning while mildly brain damaged does not make for a witty, nor even a really coherent blog.Does any of this even make sense to you all?

Live and learn, that's what this journey is all about, right? Live and learn.

Six Flags Adventure (or, wow, I'm an idiot and I have the pictures to prove it!!!)

I've lived in Georgia for 20 years and I've never been to Six Flags over Georgia. Yep, that's the sad truth. why, you may ask?

1. I don't like roller coasters. The older I get, the harder rides are for me. I get a vertigo thing that makes me very unhappy.

2. It's flippin' expensive!!! tickets are 54 dollars a person. parking is minimum 20. Food doesn't even start at under 8.00 an item. ack!

Well, this year 3 out of my 4 kids did a reading challenge thing at school and got free tickets to six flags. Since one of my kids was being homeschooled, that means I also got a free Teacher ticket! This means, only one ticket, for the oldest, had to be bought. I had a coupon to get it for 39 dollars. Okay, with a little planning I can do this..I think.

So off we go, ready to conquer the world, or at least Austell, GA. First, even though I have a GPS, I get lost in what amounts to the slums of Atlanta. My husband can't imagine how I get lost on what should be a simple three turn trip of an hour on major freeways, but I manage it. I miss an exit, and in trying to fix that I end up going in a multitude of squares through graffiti ridden neighborhoods for half an hour and finally get back on track and get to Six Flags around 11:30 (it opens at 10:30 so this isn't too bad). I pay the extra five dollars (yes, 25.00 for parking... these people are making a bloody killing!) so I can park close. I figure, after hours and hours at the park this is not the time my brood will be happy with my "park at the far end of the lot" philosophy!

I didn't start the day off well, diet wise. I did go to the gym before we left and worked out with Melissa, but we were in such a frenzy to leave that I forgot to eat breakfast and only as we were pulling out did I realize I was hungry and grabbed the only portable thing I could think of, which happened to be a ginormous apple fritter from my Abby's favorite main street market in Lilburn - fresh baked every Thursday. I had gotten some for the kids and Josh and accidentally bought 6 instead of 5. (I swear, it REALLY was an accident!) So I ate that, and it was GOOD. I figured, it's early morning and I'm going to be walking all day, so I will burn it off.

There was a 50% chance of thunderstorms, but it was really the only good day for us to go, so we went just kind of praying the weather would cooperate, and at first, it did. I found a caricature artist that had some great work out, and I always wanted some of the kids, so I splurged and got them done.

Josh said it looked like Jackson had just given Sammy a wedgie and Sammy was trying to decide if it would be too embarrassing to pull it out in public. Captured them perfectly. 
Abby's hair was captured perfectly, and her cute little chipmunk cheeks.Elizabeth was a bit upset she didn't look prettier in the picture, and thought he made her face look weird. I actually think he captured that uncertain look she often has in her eyes just perfectly, and since it is a caricature, of course he would take that megawatt smile and make it huge! I love the pictures and they are going to hang in the kids rooms. That was a good start to the day.

I wanted to try to overcome my fear of roller coasters by going on one. Sammy and Abby, who have been to six flags with their dad, were our resident experts. They assured me that Goliath was a good roller coaster, but that it did not have any loops and that I never went upside down (these were my two conditions - after all - I wanted to conquer a fear, not get crazy). Okay, I say, I'll try this Goliath. First of all, I should have realized by the name that this was not going to be a nice gentle little roller coaster. I purposely did not really LOOK at the roller coaster because I did not want to frighten myself out of it. This is very easy to do, by the way. As soon as the coaster started I knew this was a bad idea. We started going UP. Way up. Then there was this terrifying slant that seemed to me to be in excess of 90 degrees. This is where I closed my eyes and opened my mouth in a terrified girly scream. I kept my eyes closed every time we were going up a hill or down a hill until the end of this nightmarish ride that I think lasted about 49 minutes. Maybe 51. Sammy says about 1 minute and 30 seconds, but I know this can't be right. 51 minutes. I'm sure. This means, at any rate, that my eyes were closed and my mouth open for about 99.7 percent of the ride. (that's about 50 minutes and 43 seconds)

I bought the picture.

I wanted to prove I had done it, because God knows, I won't be doing it again. Note the cruel truth of the matter in the picture below.

Yes, that's my 8 year old daughter, hands raised and grin on her cute little face beside her 40 year old mother who is screaming in white knuckled terror, eyes tightly closed against the truth of her cowardice. Yes, that's my 14 year old daughter, looking calm, collected, and camera ready. 

Yes, that's my 11 year old son, and the pained look on his face is a mixture of pity for and embarrassment of his poor cowardly mother.

I did it though. So there. 

....and the kids were REALLY proud of me.

After Goliath we went to a kinder gentler roller coaster called the Dahlonega Mine Train. It was probably for 8 or 9 year olds. I really liked this roller coaster! It was fun! Just my speed. We went on it 3 times. I even raised my hands the third time. I even rode in the front! 

We did bumper cars, where my superior driving skills let me pummel all the kids. Sammy got off the ride bragging about how he had been bumping me the whole time. I said "no, I never got bumped" and he said "I was! You were in a yellow rainbow car, number 31" and I said "no, I was in a yellow rainbow car, number 16". So somewhere there is a fat woman out there who is wondering what that darn kid at Six Flags had against her.

We did a ride where we got in a log car and went up a watery hill, over, and down a watery hill. That is all there was to the ride and we got REALLY wet. It was fun.  It was called splash waterfalls.

Somewhere in there we went to see the i-luminate show, which was really cool, and stopped for lunch at Panda Express. This was an exercise in frustration. I had said to myself "there is a panda express at the park, so we can save money by going there". Ha. Okay, first of all, the Panda Express at Six Flags does not have kids meals. This is a travesty of the worst kind! It has a limited menu, and the three entree plate is over 12 dollars! The next cheapest thing on the menu is over 10 dollars. Really??? How to feed all these kids and myself for under 100 dollars? I had already spent 50 dollars (count 'em, 50!) to buy refillable drink cups for everybody. We DID make good use of those cups, though I was not relishing spending another 50 bucks on food. So this is what I did. 

I bought one 3 entree plate with two orange chickens, rice, and broccoli beef. I asked for three plates. I gave the broccoli beef to Jackson, and split the rice and orange chicken between the other three kids. I wasn't about to spend over 9 dollars on a panda bowl so I bought two veggie spring rolls for myself (3.29). So for under 15.50 I was able to feed all of us enough to get us by until 9:30 and a drive thru trip to taco bell (6 bucks, I love you Taco Bell!). 

Then came my "I'm a horrible mommy" moment. I have one of these pretty much every day, but this was a pretty big one. Ever since we got to the park Abby had been begging to go to Skull Island, which is like a little mini water park inside Six Flags. I kept saying "patience, Abby, we'll get there". We stopped at the rides along the way, got the pictures done, had lunch, watched the show...Okay.. during this whole time I kept hearing "NOW can we go to Skull Island Mommy?" and I kept saying "We'll get there!"

Finally, around 4 in the afternoon as we are approaching Skull Island, people start streaming out of Skull Island and we are informed they JUST closed it down due to thunder. Abby just stands there, staring at Skull Island, tears streaming down her face. 

Oh, I suck.

I suck.

I suck.

I felt SO horrible. 

I assured her it was probably just a small storm and would pass momentarily and they would open the park again. Well, the park never opened again. Instead, we were treated to the scariest and most horrific thunder and lightning storm I've ever had the opportunity to be stuck out in. First, it was just raining. I felt super guilty so I bought the three little ones super hero capes. Since it was raining pretty hard, but not lightning or thunder we did an impromptu super hero photo shoot.

There was some good wind for catching cape blowing drama. Abby's natural theatrical bent came out in full force for this photo shoot. She was completely the serious crime fighting superhero! Well, soon enough the rain got to be a soaking rain and the thunder rumbles came one after another so we decided to take shelter under the game pavilion. I had 10 dollars in my fanny pack so I let the three little ones play a "pick the duck" game and they all won cool prizes. See below for aforementioned cool prizes.

meet the sponge bob hammer, Scratch the nerdy pencil and Squirt, the squid.
Abby started a  trend at the park by tying the squid onto her head. Soon, there were many girls around her doing the same thing. It was a sea of squid heads. Quite funny. I should have taken a picture, but I didn't want other parents thinking I was some kind of creeper, taking pictures of their kids. The extra dollar I gave to Elizabeth and she promptly lost it trying to win a hello kitty doll.

So anyway. It is raining hard and we are hanging out in the game pavilion and I'm getting bored. I think to myself "Now would be an awesome time to take a picture of the superman ride because there is nobody in front of it." So I start walking out towards the ride (next to the pavilion) and realize too late that the water is a good three inches deep or more and my sneakers are immediately soaked through. ugh. oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound they say, so I sloshed through the water to the superman ride and lifted my camera for a picture. I took it, and a milisecond later, even before my camera reset, a huge bolt of cinema worthy lightning struck with vigor right behind the superman ride. My first thought was "crap, that would have made the most awesome picture!" and my second thought was "I'm standing in 4 inches of highly conductive water, and there is lightning and thunder crashing all around me all of a sudden. I'm an idiot". I walked extremely rapidly (okay, let's call it sprinting) back to the safety of the pavilion and stood there for a good minute getting my heart back to a decent pace. Yeah, that was stupid.  Here's the picture. It is  dark because of the heavy rain. Not a picture worth my life. If I would have fried over that picture I would have been up in heaven quite peeved with myself. duh.

Shortly after I got back to the pavilion lightning struck the big St. Louis arch looking thingy. It's a ride and I don't know what the name is because you have to pay extra money to go on it, which doesn't attract my attention. So when it hit, it was so loud I thought it had hit the pavilion we were in. The power went out and Abby jumped about six feet. She could have beat the 8 year old pole vaulting record with that jump. A few minutes later we realized Sammy was missing. He had gone to the bathroom and hadn't come back. We sent Jackson in after him, only to find out that Sammy had heard the crash and decided the prudent thing to do would be to just hang out where he was for a while. My eldest boy has always had a healthy regard for his physical safety.

The lightning and thunder eventually passed.

The rain never really stopped completely and the rides never reopened, so at 8:30 we went and collected our souvenir pictures and toys and headed out.  Remember that extra 5 dollars we paid for parking way back at the beginning of the day? All the kids were loving me a lot when we exited the park and like a beacon of rest our van was sitting there, essentially all alone, beckoning us to it's comfy (and nearby) seats. I drove home with bare feet. The kids all rode home with bare feet. There's a line of drying shoes out in the sun today. 

wow. 

fun day. 

even the lightning storm and the wet feet. 

and the three way sharing of the Panda Express

and the getting lost in the slums

(okay, maybe not that part)

sometimes you remember those things the most.

As for the fitness and diet. I walked 12900 steps yesterday. Over 5 miles. walked

14 flights of stairs (my fitbit tells me that is the equivalent of climbing that statue of Christ on top of the mountain in Brazil). That's a lot of walking and climbing. while waiting in line for the superman ride to reopen I walked in circles beside the line, just adding steps and exercise to my day. I ate the apple fritter, yes, but I'm pretty sure I burned it off, and though it was really carb heavy, I did eat it in the morning. I chose the inexpensive and fairly healthy spring vegetable rolls for lunch, and drank diet coke all day in my refillable cup. I went through Taco Bell drive through on the way home and got the kids supper, but I abstained and had a bowl of blueberries and light cool whip when I got home. So I feel I did good! There was even cotton candy there, and for anybody who has known me a while, you should know that cotton candy is very hard for me to resist. I'm a sugar addict and cotton candy is just flavored fluffy sugar!

I walked right past it. 

I am making strides-  

on my lifestyle plan.

not in my directional sense. I got lost on the way home too. blessings, Tanya

 
 Extra Pics: Here's Bugs Bunny and the gang, Elizabeth in her new glasses and necklace (also glasses!)

Sammy and Elizabeth, early in the day when it was sunny and hot and everybody was happy :)

 On the way out of the park Sammy pointed out that this was PART of Goliath, the roller coaster I rode. I'm glad I didn't look at it before hand. I would have chickened out. I took two more pictures of various parts of this mammoth coaster. It covers half the darn park it seems!

Jackson and Abby looking happy and sweet. In line for the monster mansion.

 

 

 

Gym Floor Meltdown (or, crap, the truth sucks!)

So today I had a meltdown at the gym. Yep - sitting there on the press machine I just started bawling like a baby.  So... the story goes like this:

Yesterday was Sammy's birthday and I was feeling proud of myself for a number of reasons. He had requested perogies and cheesecake for his birthday meal. Not a problem. Mom can do this. I wanted to be a part of it (ie: I wanted to eat it too!) so I planned ahead. This is the first thing I was proud of, because historically I would just say "oh to heck with it" and eat whatever I wanted. I entered the perogies and the cheesecake into 'my fitness pal' before I even had breakfast. I wanted to see what I had left for the day. The plan was to then eat the rest of the day according to what I planned to have for supper.

Then, as a last minute decision in the middle of the afternoon, we decided to go to the movies. We go to the dollar theater and we grab some movie snacks at quicktrip before we go. I ALWAYS have sugar babies. the THEATER size box. I don't care. I just love them, and a movie isn't a movie without them. Even as I've been losing all this weight I have done this. It's just something I decided to work into my system. Granted, that's kind of hard. A box of sugar babies is about one full days worth of calories. Yep, you read it right. 1500 calories, give or take. I enjoy them and I don't feel guilty. However, as we perused the choices at quicktrip I saw this sugar free tube of gooey sour candy stuff. Only 30 calories! I decided to try that instead and save myself 1470 calories. Well, that stuff was really bad, but I was still proud of myself for making an alternate movie food choice. 

Then, when I went to make supper, I cooked my perogies seperately with no oil. Just a bit of PAM to stop sticking.  I was proud for making a healthier cooking choice.

Last, but not least, I went to the gym the morning of his birthday and walked on the treadmill on level 15 hill program (not easy!) for a half hour, and level 10 for a half hour. I did this solely to burn the calories I expected to be eating that night at dinner. So I was proud of exercising off my calories in advance.

I had weighed myself that morning and it seemed like the gain from last friday of 3.4 pounds was just water weight caused by the wrong time of the month, because I was all of a sudden down that weight and then some. So I was proud that I had watched my sodium, increased my water intake and got rid of that water weight.

So, as I mentioned, I was feeling pretty good on several fronts. Then I went to the gym. I warmed up on the treadmill for five minutes and then turned to meet my trainer who was doing the "tsk, tsk" motion with her fingers. You know the motion, the one that says "you've been very naughty!". I was all "what did I do?" and she was all "perogies and cheesecake? all those carbs at night? It's going to turn into fat if you eat all those carbs at night time."


POP.


That's the sound of my balloon bursting. My first instinct was to get mad. "Well, it was my son's birthday! If I can't celebrate I don't even want to do this!"  She was all " have a big salad and one perogie" . I was all "they are mini perogies." One perogie would just be enough to piss me off! Seriously people! I told her "I don't want to just eat one perogie! I don't want the kids to think that eating healthy and being fit is about deprivation and not getting to join in the fun!"  Melissa remained calm and said "I'm just saying, it's these little choices that make the difference. I know you want to get this weight off fast, and I'm telling you, if you'll restrict those carbs after 2 or 3 you will just see it melt off!" 


Well, right about then was when my tears started flowing. Can I just say, and excuse my language, but damn my tears. I cry when I'm super happy. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm mad. I just cry, but by golly, I've never cried at the gym before, and I kept thinking of Tom Hanks in a league of their own. "There's no crying in baseball!!!".  There are a lot of big muscular men at my gym and I felt like there was a spotlight on me and that they were all thinking "there's no crying in working out!" 


Truthfully, I'm sure hardly anyone noticed. After all, tears and sweat look very similar, and it isn't like I was weeping and wailing. I was just leaking tears from my eyes and angrily rubbing them away... repeatedly. 


Then Melissa did the mom thing and comforted me, even though I probably am 10-15 years older than her. She told me how she's proud of how far I've come and she's just trying to point out the little things that could be holding me back. Then she did the trainer thing, and told me to get mad at her and work hard. I did work hard, but not because I was mad.  Just like ever, I was determined, but darn that was rough. You know why? 


The truth sucks. 


Yep. Hurts, Sucks, Stinks, and rots. Sometimes you just don't want to hear it. I've made so many changes that for ME are huge. Maybe easy things for somebody else, I don't know, but for me.... EPIC changes. I've completely turned my lifestyle upside down. I'm learning to think a different way about food, about exercise, and about my health.  I realized today just how much I've changed when Elizabeth asked me as we stopped at Sam's club "Mommy, why did you park here? There are a million spaces up there!" I said "It's exercise, and good for us!" and she spent a good minute arguing that my blueberries would melt on the way to the car if I parked ALL the way back there. Then I said "get out of the car you lazy butt, and walk!" LOL. Seriously, I used to be the one who would drive around for five minutes looking for the closest spot, and now I don't even pay attention to how far away a parking spot is, except maybe to purposely pick a further one! Working out is non-negotiable. At least 5 days a week I need to be at the gym or out doing a loop or two at the park. Weekends are my lazy time, and I'm even feeling the need on the weekends to get moving. Yes, I've changed. 


Then there is Melissa. She's smiling at me. There she is with her perky little blond cute head telling me to change some more. Really? Can you not SEE how much I've changed? Yeah, she sees it. She's my biggest supporter in many ways. She wants me to succeed though. She'll walk through fire to make sure it happens! That includes giving me hell for what I eat. In many ways, the choices I made yesterday were good ones, but they weren't the BEST ones I could have made, and I think THAT is what Melissa was getting at. 


Some days I want to defriend Melissa from 'my fitness pal' so she can't see my food diary, but it's good to be accountable to someone. It's good to have someone who can say "did you check the sodium on that fake crab?"(I had NO idea, it's HIGH!!!). So yeah. My feelings were hurt, my balloon was deflated, but when I went to Sam's club this afternoon I picked up a huge bag of lettuce and spinach knowing that I was going to have more salads for dinner and less carbs. Melissa is good for me. She tells me the truth, even when it hurts, and she points out the things that I might not notice since she is just weeks away from her masters in exercise science and has a lot more knowledge than I do about the human body and how it works. I trust that she has my best interest at heart, and though I don't agree with her on every little thing about food (no, I will NOT give up my miracle whip light. So you can stop asking me to.. it adds a low fat zest to my sandwich I am not willing to give up!) if I can get my emotions out of the way there is usually a lot of wisdom there for me to glean. 


I think everyone needs a Melissa. A person who constantly pushes you to be your best, but understands when you can't be. The perfect mix between slave driver and friend. I found out that for me, that person can't be my husband. I don't want him to talk to me about what I eat. I want him to just support me and tell me how great I am doing and how much he loves me no matter what I weigh. I want him to make up silly songs about how skinny I'm getting. That makes me happy. A Melissa is the perfect compromise. I hope you all have a Melissa in your life, even if sometimes she does make you cry. 

1/3rd of the way there, but this is so hard (or, I've lost that loving feeling! now it's gone, gone, gone.whoawhoaoooo)

Today is a good day. I've obliterated 33 pounds and I'm amazed to find I'm 1/3rd of the way to my goal  of losing 100 pounds! In honor of the occasion I am posting my progress picture below. Can you tell a difference?

I look at the pictures and I can see a few small things. I can see that my second chin is much smaller, that the dip where my waist should be is more pronounced, but the things I can't see in the picture are the things that really make a difference. I fit in REAL jeans, not old lady fat jeans. Jeans I haven't been able to wear for 3 years or so. My legs are hard and muscular. My butt is more muscle than jiggle now. My stomach is smaller. My strength and balance have increased tenfold. My endurance is greater. I've seen and felt a lot of benefits from following this path I'm on. This is the difference a few months and 33 pounds makes.

I would love to say it's been easy, and that I'm feeling pumped up and ready to tackle the last 67 pounds with gusto and grace, but I wouldn't be telling the entire truth. The last four weeks I've been struggling mightily. First, my two babies were gone to California with their dad. Divorce just sucks, and the worst thing about it is having to let your babies go far away with someone you don't particularly like or trust and his family that you like and trust even less. It just never gets easier when they are gone, because I never feel 100 percent confident that they are safe. Don't get me wrong. I know they are taken care of physically, but emotionally and spiritually I don't feel confident of their safety, and that is just hard on me. I try hard to leave it in God's hands, but inevitably I fall into a depression during the two or three weeks of the summer they are gone. I just had a lot of trouble being motivated to do what I had to do, and the emotional eating I try so hard to deal with comes back full force. With that emotional baggage comes fatigue and malaise. I just don't want to DO anything. I don't want to GO anywhere. So going to the gym was hard, eating right was hard, and I gained a week, lost a week, gained a week, lost a week, for the last month. That slow progress served to get me down even more, especially because I don't want to let myself or my trainer down during this biggest loser challenge at my gym. The prize is a free year of dues at the gym! That's awesome. that will save me almost 150 dollars in the coming year. I want to win!! When I gain I feel like I'm letting us both down.

Then there is the FITBIT. After joining a free online site called MY FITNESS PAL, which I highly recommend by the way, I purchased something called a FITBIT. This is a fitbit.  I have the pink one.

 
This handy and tiny little device clips on to your waistband, or in my case, my bra. I pop it on in the morning and it tracks all the steps I take, all the miles I walk, and all the floors of stairs I climb. It syncs up with the information I put in My Fitness Pal and Voila, I have a great picture of all the activity I do each day. I was super excited to get this, and I wear it every day. It is absolutely fabulous. It also, when worn to bed on a wrist strap, will tell you how well you slept! Seriously. It's awesome.

I hate it.

I was feeling so good about all the positive healthy changes I've been making in my life. The fitbit neatly and succinctly tells me that I suck. That I'm essentially a slug, and that even though I go to the gym almost every day, I barely move the rest of the time. It tells me I have to totally step it up, and right now I feel about stepped up to my limit. The idea of having to constantly be exercising for the rest of my life just to keep up to the minimum healthy goals is highly depressing and demotivating. It almost makes me want to give up.

Except it doesn't.

Because it makes me mad. 

I feel in turns despairing (how can I up my activity level by that much every day???),angry (why in hell does this have to be SO hard?) ,fatalistic (why do I even try, I should just give up!) and hopeful (It's little things... maybe I can find ways to do this). It has done what I had hoped it would do when I bought it - it gives me a real picture of how much I move. I just expected that real picture to be better than it is. So now here I am.

I think about my life. The fact is, I spend a lot of time in front of the computer by necessity. I do the budget, and this takes hours for me. I do the bills, and I am currently trying to register Elizabeth for online public school, get Jackson registered for school after a year of homeschooling, and dealing with a lot of medical paperwork for Jackson. This means some days I am sitting there, copying, filling out, scanning, sending, I spend a lot of time driving Jackson back and forth to therapy. I spend a lot of time driving the kids to school when it isn't summer. It just seems my schedule demands a lot of sitting. So the question is, how do I up those steps each day? how do I get 5000 to 10000 steps every day instead of 2500? I do my cardio at the gym, and those days help a lot. Last week I took the kids to the park and did the loop of the walking trail. That helped. I can't do that every day though. Especially not this week when it's 105 degrees out! I can't spend two hours in the gym every day. My schedule just doesn't allow it, and I don't WANT to spend that long in the gym either. I want to have a lifestyle I can maintain long term, and I just know I can't do that long term. So I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out, what can I do every day? I'm trying to think of little things.

1. parking at the far end of the parking lot when I'm on errands.
2. getting my own drink out of the fridge instead of asking the kids to get me one (hey, 20 steps there and 20 steps back... that's 40 extra steps)
3. doing household chores the hard way. make it into more trips, take things one by one.
4. take groceries in two bags at a time, instead of holding as many bags as I can. All those trips back and forth to the car could add a lot of steps.
5. quickly run up and down the church steps a couple of times when I go to church. I go twice a week, and it's the only place I can think of that I encounter stairs since I live in a ranch house. That will give me a couple of flights of stairs and 50 more steps.

I don't know how much these things will add up, but I'm going to give it a try. If you can think of anything else I can work into my normal life please comment! I want my fitbit to become a friend that gives me good news!

So, the bottom line. I'm proud of how far I've come. I'm depressed that the pictures look essentially the same. I'm happy that I'm a third of the way to my goal. I'm depressed that my daily activity is so much less than I felt it was. I'm proud that I refuse to give up. I'm depressed that I'm feeling depressed about where I am. I don't like being in a slump. My mental attitude is everything! If that is not where it belongs, I struggle so hard. I need to write this on my bathroom mirror:

let us fling aside every encumbrance and the sin that so readily entangles our feet. And let us run with patient endurance the race that lies before us, (Hebrews 12:1)

I need patient endurance to keep at this journey of life and health and faith. I need to remember that I can do nothing without the Lord, and that this isn't about me, but about Him.

And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, and let it be through Him that you give thanks to God the Father.(Col 3:17)

I told myself that I would finish this journey for the Glory of the Lord, and if I lose that focus all is lost. I give it all to you Lord - my attitude, my motivation, my food choices, my exercise, my thought life, and as always, my heart.

Let me run the race to the end, and make you proud.

I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates... (or, Hallelujah, I can feel my toes!)

Here they are:

Aren't they beautiful????

If you will remember back to my blog about my 5k, you will remember that almost immediately my ankles started to feel like they were breaking, and around the 20 minute mark I could literally no longer feel my toes. My 5k angel informed me that it was not normal foot behavior and that I really needed new shoes.

Problem being, new shoes are very expensive - at least good ones are. I had resigned myself to saving up for a few months and eventually getting them when I received a message from the Carolinas that threw me for a loop! It was my cousin (by marriage) miss Debbie Cockrell Brewer and she was offering to buy me a new pair of shoes!! At first I deferred. It was odd, being offered shoes out of the blue by somebody I had only actually met in person once! Yes, we talk a fair bit back and forth on facebook, but still, it seemed awkward. Pride, also, reared it's ugly head for a few brief moments... I can't accept that..surely we can afford a pair of shoes without having to resort to kind offers from relatives in far flung states....

Then a day or two passed and I, still wearing my foot murdering shoes, came to my senses. Here I was, suffering, and on the table was a pefectly good offer of Debbie Brewer's favorite running shoe! I told my husband he needed to make Miss Debbie a really nice bowl on his lathe, because I was about to get some new shoes!

A few days later my shoes arrived in the mail.When I opened the box, that song started going through my head... "I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates!" They were silver and gray and pretty darn sleek looking. I put them on my feet and...OH! it was cushy! There were little gel pad things in the soles somehow. They felt like heaven! I wore them around about 20 minutes in the house and then... ouch. They hurt. Bad. On the side. Turns out my feet were too wide for the regular Asics Gel shoes. I had a blister. BOO!

However, in the wonderful tradition of Amazon.com,  they were super easy to return and also came in wide size. Debbie had made sure of it before ordering them. I got my wider replacement shoes back two days ago. Today I walked 1.5 miles uphill (treadmill hill setting) in these shoes and at the end, I could still feel my toes. My feet don't ache. Normally after a treadmill workout my feet hurt all day, top and bottom. Not today. They feel like happy feet!

Debbie and Graham Brewer, oh how I love you two! What an encouraging and long lasting gift of love and support you have given me. With all this love and support around me (and my ankles!), how can I fail?

I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates, and that's gonna be the key! 200 miles by the new year. That's my goal. I'm gonna give these shoes a workout!

In other news, lookie, lookie, lookie what I made!!!

There's 100 rocks all together, each one represents a pound. From my starting weight of 242, 100 pounds lost will be 142, which is smack dab in the middle of where I'm supposed to be, according to Weight Watchers. I've already got to move 28 rocks from the "to be" jar to the "I have" jar. 28 ugly rocks. Almost a third of the way there. I'm hoping by next year this time my first jar will be near empty, or empty, and the second jar will be full to the brim. I have such a LONG LONG way to go, but I've also come pretty far.

You may have noticed that my long list of adjectives describing what I want to do to the weight does not include the word LOSE. Losing something implies you want to find it again. I don't ever want to find this weight again. I can destroy it, obliterate it, shed it,defeat it, even transform it (to muscle), but to hell with ever finding it again! I'm through with losing pounds and then finding them again. Not only do I usually find the ones I lost, but I pick up a few extra homeless pounds found camping in a van down by the river. Lost pounds usually find friends while they are lost!!! Then they want to bring everybody over for a party. yeah, my pounds are not going to be lost. They are going to be gone, moved on, and passed over. finis.

I see you smiling at me, holding out those chubby little dimpled hands in supplication. Sorry, pounds. I have no pity for you. You have pretended all these years to be my friend, protecting me and comforting me, but you aren't. So wipe that smile off your face, and make tracks.  Call your friends a cab. You don't have to go home, but you all can't stay here. That's my final word.

fish are friends not food... (or exercise is NOT my enemy!)

Have you ever felt like something you wanted to do, knew you needed to do, was just against your very nature? I am reminded of the movie "Finding Nemo". Dory and Marlin meet up with some sharks who are in a 12 step program not to eat fish. Their mantra is "Fish are friends, not food!" Of course, one little drop of fishy blood in the water and all the shark's good intentions are out the window and Dory and Marlin are swimming for their lives!

Historically, this is how I feel about exercise. I know I need to do it. I know it's good for me, but the only exercise I truly want is that of my thumb clicking the "next page" button on my kindle as I read a good novel. It just takes a little whiff of anything MORE fun than exercise in the air for me to want to just drop the idea of working out like a hot potato.

It is not so much that I'm lazy -it's more that I don't like sweating. I don't like being hot. I don't like hurting. In my experience, all those things are involved with exercise.

Also, I am a creature of habit. It's about the laws of physics really. The law of inertia. Things in motion tend to stay in motion, things at rest tend to stay at rest. Well... I've been at rest for a good 5 years at least. That's the last time I was involved in any kind of regimented exercise routine.

If you've been following this blog you know that this time around I STARTED with exercise before the diet. It has worked well for me. In the past I wouldn't even really consider exercise until I had already lost 20 pounds or more. This time I've got exercise built in from the start. I'm about on my third month now of going to the gym across the street from my house and exercising. Currently I am weight training three times a week and working on the couch to 5k program two or three times a week. 

 Now, this goes against everything I thought was in my very nature. I'm starting to get a glimmer here heading into month three though, that maybe my nature is not as prone to rest as I first assumed. I've been getting this feeling a few minutes after doing my couch to 5k every day the last few weeks. It's a feeling of well being, of happiness. Even as I drip sweat into my workout towel and suck back on my water bottle. I mean, I feel great! My friends who run tell me this is called "runner's high". I have heard about this, and assumed it was something people got from inhaling the body odor of all the sweaty people around them at the gym, but no...evidently it is all about endorphins being released into your body! I am loving endorphins. Since I work out around 9 o'clock in the morning I get this great boost to my day. By 10, I already feel like I accomplished a lot!

Last time I worked out with the great and terrible Melissa I went into the workout feeling funky because of the pollen and just overtired from some lack of sleep the last few days. I came out of it dripping sweat and feeling BETTER than when I went in. Seems almost counter intuitive to kick my butt on a workout and come out feeling better, but I do. 

This is one of those things that makes me go Hmmmm. I actually purposely don't exercise on the weekend. Monday this week I was feeling this urge to get to the gym, to do something physical. It was almost like my body... *gasp* missed exercise!

If you haven't started some exercise I encourage you to try to work whatever you can do in, whether that's a 10 minute walk or a full fledged zumba class (I don't DO classes myself, I like to be humiliated by my lack of grace and ill fitting work out gear in a less public setting, thank you very much). I started this journey out of desperation because I was having so much trouble controlling my eating, but I'm continuing because it makes me FEEL good, and I'm already seeing results after only these very few weeks. My hubby actually says my butt feels firmer. That's enough motivation to exercise for another month right there! I'm stronger too... last time I fell behind on laundry and had to take a few baskets to the laundromat to catch up I thought I was about to die from all the lifting and carrying. I did it again a few days ago for the first time since I started exercising and I didn't struggle at all with the baskets. I didn't even get winded, and it was really hot out! It was AMAZING. I felt like superwoman! 

Now I am thinking all sorts of odd things... like.. am I going to become one of those exercise fanatics? surely not. Also, I started wondering... I've lost weight before, I've exercised some (though not the amount I am doing now!), but I've never done them TOGETHER. I wonder how my body will change this time with the toning, muscle building, and fat burning cardio going on at the same time as the calorie reduction and healthy eating? Will it make a big difference. I feel in my heart that it really will, and I am SO excited about it. I can't wait to see where this is going to take me. I have a vision of myself, healthier, stronger, more fit than I've ever been. I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me, so why not this? I have such an incredible amount of weight to lose (from my starting weight of 242 I need to lose at least 100 to be at what is considered an acceptable weight for my height) that it is very hard for me to look in the mirror and see that girl that might be there some day. I really have nothing to go on. I've been skinnier, but I've never been fit. What will MY best body look like? I don't know. It will be a delicious surprise to find out!! I like to think that I'm slowly slowly unwrapping a present of a thinner, fit me. I can only see a little at  a time..... as I peel off the fat wrappings I catch a glimpse (oh, what's that, a curve at my waistline?) or feel a corner (oh, what's that, a rock hard calf muscle?) ... how many months will it be until I can see the me inside the wrappings?  Not too many I hope. 

Join me in some exercise today. It may not be against your nature after all...

underwear and parachutes (or...one should not remind you of the other!)

If you've been a regular reader of my blog, you know that I had a big push last year to be "fit not fat by 40" and that I failed miserably at it. I had pushed the whole weight loss thing to the back burner after that.  I'm so busy living this full and interesting life that I kind of said to myself "do I need to really devote so much energy to this?" Well, the answer, as it turns out, was yes, although it took me several months to figure it out. You might sigh as my faithful reader and say "oh no, here we go again", but sometimes you do something different for what seems a silly reason and your whole world view gets turned upside down... and makes you think that this time... finally... there really might be hope!

This is the moment that something clicked. All my underwear was old and shabby, but as a fat woman I obviously despise clothes shopping in any form. Nobody wants to be reminded how fat you are by trying to squeeze into the biggest size in the store, or roaming the discreetly named "woman's section". I finally decided, however, that the holes and the stains were probably not going to keep the homefires burning, if you get my drift! One look at those and my husband would politely say "um... no thanks". So off to buy some pristine new underwear. Yeah. Following the measurements on the back of the bags I was finally led to some underwear that was "just my size" *sigh... one day I'd love to see some honesty...how about "lard butt designs... this is for YOU fat girl!"* . So anyway, I bought the underwear that "just my size" said was just my size. I guess it's been a few years. When I got home and opened those underwear and unrolled the neat little roll (4 in a pack!) it was more like unfurling a flag than unrolling some underwear. I mean, my 8 year old daughter Abby could use these things as a parachute! My butt could not POSSIBLY be this big. My butt isn't even the fat part of me. I'm an apple and most of my fat is in my stomach. I tried them on with some trepidation, and man, they fit great!!! Okay. So.

Facing the facts #1: My butt WAS that big!
Facing the facts #2: Since my butt is not the biggest part of me, that means my stomach is truly enormous.

I had given up dieting and all that crap a while back. I have been dieting since I was 14. I rarely lost weight, and when I did I would promptly gain it back again plus 20 to memorialize the occasion. This day, however, something clicked in my head. I said to myself... well.... I can't keep doing NOTHING... I'm wearing a parachute for underwear! hmmmm... So I immediately joined weight watchers and started in on my new life.... NOT.

I made a joke about the underwear to my 4 kids, filed the incident in my mind, and got back to my very busy life.

This is the moment that I made up my mind. I had to go to the doctor. I hate going to the doctor. One, it usually means my asthma is flaring up and they are going to put me on cortisone, which for my body means weight gain every time. two, we are always on a tight budget, and a 20 dollar copay for something that is not fun is not at the top of my list of things to spend money on. I actually can't remember now what I went to the doctor for, because whatever it was, it was not what I came away from the appointment remembering. The nurse ushered me into the room, and truthfully I've been expecting for years for them to take bloodwork and tell me I have diabetes. How my body has managed to process all the sugar my sugar addiction has fed it over the years without developing diabetes, I do not know. All I can say is that I must have a very efficient pancreas. It wasn't the shocking news that I'd developed diabetes that sent me to weight watchers though. It wasn't any bad health news in fact. It was this. The nurse took my blood pressure. I've always been 120/80. Rock Solid, for years. Today it was high. Very high. High enough that the nurse immediately took it again. Then she said "your blood pressure is quite high". I reply "It never is. My blood pressure is always great! I took it at CVS the other day on the machine and it was fine". She looks at me a minute, says "hmmmm" (she actually did say Hmmm. I am now officially one of those things that make people go hmmm.) and walks into the other room. She comes back with a different cuff, takes my pressure again, and with a huge sigh of relief she says "now, that's MUCH better". It took me about 30 seconds of wondering if the other cuff was broken to realize what had just happened. There was such a thing as a fat lady blood pressure cuff, and I had graduated to it. 

I went home quite perturbed. I mean, standard medical equipment was no longer able to measure my bulk. This is NOT right. I don't know why this, and not one of the million other indignities suffered by the fat, was the trigger for me, but the underwear and the blood pressure cuff in quick succession shook me up. This was January.

I went home and spent about a month trying to lose weight by myself and it just didn't work. I think I lost two pounds. I couldn't seem to garner the willpower to really change what I was eating. By the end of February I was frustrated and looking for a solution. I knew dieting wasn't it. I knew I had to change my lifestyle but I didn't know how. Well, I knew how... I mean, fat people who have been on diets their whole life generally know WHAT they are supposed to do, they just don't know how to make themselves do it. That was me. I couldn't seem to MAKE myself change my eating habits in any significant way. I knew I couldn't spend my whole life feeling deprived, that I had to eat things I liked, but I had to control my portions and add more healthy choices. I just didn't want to THINK that hard. My life is SO busy. I have four kids, two with special needs that are in therapy several times a week, and I drive two of my four kids to and from school half an hour away every day.I drive two to three hours a day, depending on the day. I also homeschool my youngest son who has a list of syndromes and conditions a mile long, as well as being involved in my church and trying to build a library at my kids small school. I am TIRED at the end of the day. Actually I am usually tired by noon. or 10am. Actually, I'm usually never NOT tired. I just power through my day. I do the family budget, which is a big job for me. I have to stretch a little money a LONG way. I pay the bills, I run the house, and I try to build my small Heritage Makers business. It is easy to make excuses when you are that busy and that tired. Listen to me though.. has anything wonderful and worthwhile ever come easy?

 I decided to go about it backwards. If I exercised, maybe I would not want to wreck it by eating too much. That was the theory anyway. So I joined a gym right near my house called Fitness 19. For only 12 dollars a month I can go anytime they are open. That fits my budget, and my schedule! So I started going, 7 weeks ago now, five days a week. I drop my kids at school and head straight to the gym. I'm a morning person and the earlier something is, the more likely it is I'll get it done. My husband says my brain falls out after 8pm. It's mostly true. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I am using an app on my smartphone to do the couch to 5k program on the great treadmills at the gym. Tue, Thursday I've been strength training with the trainer Melissa at the gym. I bought 5 sessions when I joined for 99 dollars (yay, tax return!). I hate her ALMOST as much as I love her. I have made it a priority to find the money to keep her. I would never make myself do the things she makes me do. I am deliciously sore. I say the soreness means something is happening. Something different. Something good!

And I was right! It did inspire me. After that first sweaty painful couch to 5 k day I wanted the 150 calories the treadmill told me I'd burned to count for something. two or three days later I signed up for WW online and started tracking my food and exercise. The difference this time was that I started exercising first!


In my past weight loss endeavors I would try to lose 20 or 30 pounds before I even considered adding in any exercise. My thought was, what am I going to be able to do at THIS size? having started exercise first this time I can tell you today what I can do at this size... I can complete a 5k at this size. I did it this morning. My first ever, at 40 years old. My first, I hope, of many. I've lost about 15 pounds and about 12 inches since I started all this. I still have 25 pounds to lose just to get under 200, which should be discouraging, but all I can think about is that I completed a flippin' 5k today! I'm incredibly slow, and my best time on the treadmill previously for the 3.1 miles had been 1 hour and 6 minutes, but I finished!! I had a couple of modest goals for this race. 


1) I didn't want to be dead last.
2) I wanted to pass somebody, anybody, and maintain that lead.
3) I wanted to finish in under an hour. 


My results were


1) The bulk of the pack passed me immediately, but there were always some people behind me. I didn't have to elbow my friend Heather, who stayed with me the whole way, even though she recently finished a half marathon, out of the way at the end. Not needed. I am sure Heather is glad. I could take her down, I weigh twice as much as she does!


2)  First I passed a fat guy dressed all in black. I felt sorry for him. He looked hot. All black? really? in Hotlanta? Then I passed a gaggle of three women who looked more like they were out for a stroll than running a race. Hey, I'll take it. I'm 225 pounds. I'm happy I passed anybody! 


3) After the first corner on the race my ankle started to hurt, by the second corner it was in agony. We'd only gone about a  half mile when I thought I would have to walk the whole entire race, if I would make it at all. My goal of finishing in under an hour seemed to fade away as I reset my goal to just finishing. Heather, wonderful Heather my 5k angel, came to my rescue! She suggested just trying to run to the next mailbox or down this hill or to that tree, then to walk. When I stopped feeling my feet she informed me that my sneakers were really bad and that I needed some good shoes. note taken, new shoes this week. As we closed in on 2.5 miles she informed me we still had time to make it, and I ran across the finish line with a time of 52:58. I shaved 13 minutes off my best time, even with my ankle hurting so bad. That tells me that I walk/jog faster off the treadmill than I do on. Time to push harder on that treadmill! And I met goal three. 


Man, does that feel awesome! If you've never run a race at all, I encourage you to go and do a 1 mile fun run at least. Going over that finish line, through the cones lined up like a runway.. a beacon of my achievement, people on each side clapping and cheering me on... I'll never forget that experience. It was a very awesome first. I can see this 5K thing becoming addicting. My hubby, my trainer, Heather the 5k angel, and Julie the cheerleader were all there to cheer me on and make my first 5k experience a wonderful one. 


So it's the exercise. It's going to make the difference. I can feel it deep in my bones (especially right after a work out). I can already see and feel things firming up under the fat. It's already changing my shape some, even at this weight. I'm determined to keep it going.


Very determined. I just signed up at my gym for a "biggest loser" challenge. It starts Monday, May first, and goes for 90 days. The winner will get a prize. I want to win. I'm going to work my butt off to win, but I figure even if I lose, I'll still win!So...it's a win-win situation. Care to cheer me on this time around? I'll even supply you with some hideous before pictures so you can watch the transformation that I know is going to happen. Here I am shortly after I started all this wonderful Insanity. 242 pounds and not quite 5'4. That's considered class II obese! I didn't realize there were classes of Obesity until I found myself falling into the second one during an internet search. I intended to pose in front of the calendar so you could see the date, but when I looked at the pictures Abby took I realized that my width obscures the whole thing. Kind of funny when you think about it. Maybe you'll see more and more of it as I transform. Meanwhile, you'll just have to take my word about it for the date. I started the beginning of March, 2012. Sammy calls the lovely hairstyle my "workout ponytails", because it is what I always do before heading off to the gym. I've included a picture Heather the 5k angel took of me about to cross the finish line sporting the same sexy ponytails, and one of me with Heather the 5k angel and Julie the cheerleader before the race (the angel is the blond one)  It can be done, no matter what your age or size!