Archive for the ‘Weight loss’ Category

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One Small Step for Paige

January 15, 2008

When you go work at a place, and there’s a gym there, that you don’t have to pay to join, and you can work out on your lunch hour?

There’s really no excuse for not exercising.

Today I did. 20 minutes on the elliptical (previously known in these parts as the elliptihell, but I’m trying to stay positive here). I went to go do some “ab work” ha ha ha. I laid down on the ground, stayed there for a few minutes, and decided that getting up from that position was enough ab work. To be fair *cough, cough* I did just do yogalates last night, and my ab muscles are still screaming. Less insistently than they did last week, but still. Screaming.

I’m pretty proud. The eating, it is getting there, especially during the week. Weekends, as always, are where my biggest challenges lie. (weekends, and right after I get home from work.)

I’m just taking it one decision at a time. A friend of mine who has been around this block a few times had suggested that a long time ago, before I was ready to hear it. I was all about losing huge amounts of weight, and she told me to take it one choice at a time. Try to eat healthy for lunch, if you want to eat crap for dinner, well, that’s at dinner time. When you get to dinner, try to make good choices there. And so on. The same goes for exercising. I’ll exercise today, and if I don’t tomorrow, that’s my choice. Then when I get to tomorrow, try to make that good choice. One choice, one decision, one step at a time, makes the road seem much less overwhelming. I can handle one choice. I can honestly not handle the idea of changing my whole lifestyle or going on a diet. I can handle the idea of trying to make one small choice at a time, and seeing where it gets me.

We shall see.

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January 8, 2008

We watched We Are Marshall tonight. Highly recommended for those nights when you just want to cry, but can’t get anything to make you cry?? This movie will take care of that for you in a jiffy. Best line? “Grief is messy”.

I did good today. I actually make good food choices all. day. long. Huh. Weird. I keep reminding myself that I can eat crap if I want to. I know this sounds weird, I do. But I have found that if I tell myself I can’t, if I take away my choice, I end up wanting to rebel. If I ask myself to please make the better choice, but hey, if you really want it, the other one is there and go for it… well, hopefully I will make baby steps towards the better choices, every day.

The new WW tag line is “diets don’t work. WW does.” I get all pissy and defensive every time I see their stupid commercial. WW failed for me I failed WW three times. I beg to differ. It is a diet, like it or not. It works for some, but someone help me out here- do the words at the bottom of all their success stories still say results not typical?

So far, I’m liking baby steps. Much less pressure.

Wow. I find when I blog every day I have way less to say. Huh.

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In the right direction. Kind of.

January 7, 2008

Yogalates.

Then chocolate cake.

Baby steps here, people. Baby steps. No major reorganization of my life, no diet. Just… baby steps.

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A Twisted Love Letter

December 1, 2007

Almost eight months ago I wrote a break-up letter to junk food. I read it now and think… “What was I thinking?”

Here’s the new letter:

Dear crap that I eat on a regular basis,

I feel like you are feeling like Justin Bobby. I’ve said a million times that I’m done, and each time I promise that this time, I really mean it. I’m done with you. Yet I always come crying back. I listen to your promises. I believe you when you tell me you won’t make me fat, and that you’ll make me feel better. I will reminisce about all the good times we’ve had, and want them back. So I’ll come back, with a stronger attachment than ever.

Why would you believe me when I say I’m done?

I’m going to be honest here, unhealthy eating. I’m not done. I love you so much. I love not having to say no. I love the freedom that comes with. I adore that total lack of self-discipline it takes to be wholly involved with you. It feels so easy to just let us abuse each other, with a wonderful devil-may-care attitude.

I don’t love the consequences that you come with, though. They are almost enough to make me leave you, again. They are almost enough to make me go back to the nice habits in my life, Eating Right and Exercise. Almost. I don’t love the way you make my pants feel. They feel gross all the time. I wish I could just wear sweatpants day in and day out, they feel so nice and comfortable. I don’t like the way my body feels. I feel slow, sluggish, and tired. I never feel good. I hate the way my body looks. I am back to avoiding mirrors, and I feel like nothing looks cute on me. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

I also hate the way that how I feel about my body and my relationship with you carries over into other aspects of my life. I don’t take good care of myself. I can find the time for sitting around  and for hanging with you, Unhealthy Eating, but I can’t find the time to take a walk?!?!

Yet I love you so much. I don’t know why. I truly don’t understand the hold you have on me, much in the way that Justin Bobby has a hold on Audrina. I don’t know why I can’t say no to you. Even when I spend six, eight, or twelve months apart, only coming around for naughty trysts every few months, I still come crawling back to you full time. I know I love the freedom from self-discipline and saying no that you offer. I know that I love the allure of laziness that  you tempt me with. I know that I love the ability to indulge my every emotional whim.

The consequences of such an affair, they are not insignificant. Yet I just can’t seem to care.

I know we need to end this soon. The trouble is, that it must be for good. And I don’t know how.

Yours,

Paige

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Year Two, Day Twenty-Five

November 26, 2007

After tonight, only five more nights of daily blogging. I seemed to have an easier time this year than I did last year.

Anyways. All I have to say tonight is: I am crabby. My reasons, they are petty.

I feel fat.

I am PMSing.

My fat pants? Are too tight.

When this this just melt off my body? When, I ask you??

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Year Two, Day 8

November 8, 2007

In case you were wondering…

The weight loss thing is not happening right now. As in, officially. After work yesterday I bought a bag of Cheetos and took them home with me. (Call me Britney.)

I just don’t care. I don’t know. I want to be skinnier, and not hate myself quite so much when I look in the mirror. But right now, how I look, what I wear, my health- none of them are motivating me enough to make good food choices or get off my ass and exercise.

Rather than make myself miserable by half-assing it, I’m just going to do what I’m going to do. I’m going to make some effort to not go bananas (i.e.: I didn’t buy the tube of cookie dough yesterday to sit and eat raw with a spoon. Go me with the willpower!), but I am not going to make myself nuts pretending that I care about weight loss when in all honesty, right now I just do not.

So there it is. I’m fully disclosed. I just don’t care right now.

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Back to my roots

October 16, 2007

This blog started as a weight loss blog.

And, of course, in my world sometimes I’m trying to lose weight and sometimes… well… I’m not. Sometimes I’m working on loving myself no matter my size, sometimes I’m trying to love myself by taking care of myself and losing weight.

Probably just about this whole year, I haven’t really been committed to weight loss for myself.

I’m not sure I am still.

However, today I did something I haven’t done in a while: I exercised.

That’s right, broke out a very easy Firm video and got down.

Woot! Go me.

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Woe Is Me

September 9, 2007

I was having one of those days when I felt all woe is me. my life sucks. I don’t fit into any clothes, anywhere.

And so I was in a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad mood.

Despite the fact that the clothes not fitting is entirely my own fault. The chips I ate afterward to help myself feel better about the clothes not fitting (how’s that for a self-destructive cycle?) are entirely to blame. Who put them in my mouth? me.

The thing that I hate most about clothes shopping is that I don’t just get frustrated with the fact that I can’t find clothes that fit, that I like. I start to hate myself.

Literally. I tell myself I’m a bad person because I’m too fat for cute clothes.

Ugh.

So, I was working all day to fight those feelings and thoughts. I was trying to remind myself that I’m lovable, worthy, and good no matter my weight or what clothes fit or don’t fit. I have a husband that loves me, family that loves me, friends, I’m good at my job. Etc.

I got home, and Rory followed me around the house. When I sat down she cuddled in for a long winter’s nap, purring wildly. She was happy that I was home, as was I. She was happy to see me and she could care less if I am a size 16/18 or a size 2. She just loves me.

I could take a lesson or two from her.

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Blog Freeze

September 6, 2007

It didn’t take long for me to run out of things to say. Huh.

 Random Posts I’ve started and erased, then deciding to put them all into one “big” post:

Last Comic Standing

anyone else bored with this show? Just give the title to Jerry Dee already, guys.

Burnout

In the field of social work, it’s very bad to start thinking “I don’t care”. That’s a clear sign you’re on your way to burn-out. It’s not that I actually don’t care, it’s that I’m overwhelmed and so it’s harder to care about each and every detail.

A numbers post

about how totally and completely weird and disorienting it feels to not have any idea what I weigh, how much I’ve gained or lost, etc. And also freeing.

That’s all I got, folks.

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Fat.

August 19, 2007

To give myself some credit, I haven’t pulled out the scale. This is in an effort to not define myself by my weight.

So instead of defining myself by the numbers on the scale, I keep thinking about how I feel. And how that I feel that I look.

The only word for it is fat. I hate mirrors right now, because I look fat. I feel fat.

The grocery shopping is done. I’m ready to be exercising. I’m ready to not feel fat every day. I hate it and am dangerously close to hating me.