Baby Steps ....

I started watching what I eat and trying to move more starting after we returned from the Poconos on January 1. (before then it was a holiday food free-for-all, multiplied by the extra eating (especially of crap) we always do when we're at the mountain house.

Anyway ... 4.5 lbs down so far. That's almost as much as a standard bag of sugar. I used to just be carrying that around all the time.

It helps me to visualize what I'm no longer carrying around. Before I'm done I want to carry around a total of eight fewer bags of sugar.

Or four of my cat.

Or half my daughter.

Or five gallons of water.

Or a cinder block .... a cinder block!

That last one hits home. I've been carrying around a cinder block with me all day, every day. No wonder I'm tired.

--End--

[EDIT: 1/20/12 -- Another pound and a smidge down.]

Back on the Wagon

This is me ... only, you know, female.

Or is it "off the wagon?" Which one means that you screwed up, but you're fixing it? "Fell off the wagon" means you started drinking (smoking/gambling/name your vice) again, right?

In any case, I started running again today. I stopped when I traveled to my parents' house for a week about a month ago (speedy packing=lack of sports bra ... dang, but I hate jiggling). And then when I got back there was the rush to get Emily ready for her trip to the UK (I know!). And now, well, it's like an inferno outside even at 7 a.m. (see previous post). Although, I am on week 4 of the 100 pushup plan (plus, I'm also doing the 200 crunches (not sit-ups ... I can't even do ONE sit-up. Pathetic!), and 200 squats) Joe has kept up with it and it starting to have some really obvious results. He's noticeably trimmer.

Not me. I'm not noticeably anything better. Well, there is a bit more definition in my upper arms, which is always a nice thing.

So, back to the drawing board. I downloaded some apps (because, honestly, what's not better with the addition of touch-screen technology?), namely: iTrackBites, TargetWeight, and iTreadmill, as well as Robert Ullrey's Couch to 5K podcasts. OK, to be fair, I'd previously downloaded some of these, but had failed to set them up and actually customize them to be usable for me.

'Cause it's all about me.

I aim to finish the Couch to 5K program this time (I got up to a verrrry slow week 4 last time). This time I'm using my treadmill and setting a faster pace (3.5 mph for walking, 6mph for the jogging). Yeah, I was even slower than that the last time around.

So, here goes ... thirty pounds to lose, working toward a 5K run (not that I've registered for one ... yet). And, it's official, since, I've blogged it, right?

--End--

My Public Apology to Jogging

Dear Jogging,

I try to like you. I know you are a great form of exercise, that you would get my heart pumping and my blood flowing and all that. I know I could get just as much if not more work-out out of my work-out in substantially less time if I employed you instead of your more plebeian sibling, walking.

But I just don't like you. I don't like the way my thighs jiggle when I jog. Believe me, I understand that if I jogged more my thighs and belly and countless other jiggly spots on my body would firm up and solve this problem. But, I just can't seem to get past it long enough for that to happen.

And, maybe it's a lack of appropriately athletically supportive foundation garments, but I absolutely loathe the more than a little painful jouncy feeling you elicit in my chest. I mean, I'm no Dolly Parton, but yeesh -- give a girl a break. I shouldn't have to wrap myself in Ace bandages to comfortably perform an activity.

Don't get me wrong, I try to like you; I really do. I envision myself crossing the finish line of a marathon, exhausted but exhilarated after 26.2 miles of slow but steady jogging. I picture myself in the ranks of fellow joggers, passing on the shoulders of neighborhood roads, nodding slightly out of breath, but my aren't we getting in shape? greetings to one another. Visualization doesn't seem to work in this case, though. I just can't shake disliking you.

I walk as fast as I possibly can without breaking into a jog. I start to employ that exaggerated sport-walking gait, a la Cary Grant in Walk, Don't Run, but like a good sulky racer, I refuse to break stride.

So, sorry, jogging. I know you're a good form of exercise and I know you have many adherents, but I'll never, ever be one of them. Don't hold it against me, all right?

--Heidi