Week 3 – Nutrition is Important!

I have spent the last two weeks re-learning how to fuel my body for optimum workout performance. Apparently, Sonic Cherry Limeaids and Snickers candy bars don’t help build much muscle. Who knew? 😉

For the first time in my life, I have found something I feel like I can sustain long-term. It’s not a fad, it’s not a magic potion, no pills, surgery or anything of the sort. It combines clean eating in the kitchen – 5 meals a day that include 20-25 grams of protein and 15-20 grams of complex carbs for every meal; and lifting weights 4-5 times a week.

I’m just starting week three – and what that means is that I feel comfortable in the kitchen and am not having to guess what makes up a good meal anymore…I’m feeling better because I am OFF OF SUGAR. This is huge, people. My knees aren’t bothering me like they were, and in general, I have more energy. I just FEEL better.

legdayToday I have my first try at the elliptical machine. I’ve been walking 30-40 minutes daily on the treadmill, which KILLS my knees. It’s a lot of jarring for someone who weighs as much as I do! I made it a whole 3 minutes before I died and had to go finish out my cardio on a bike. hehe. My goal is to work up to 20 minutes, as that is the warm up for me prior to lifting weights. This Saturday will be my first “real” day in the gym where I am doing something more than just walking or cardio. We are doing LEGS. I am feeling pretty good about that, as I have always had strong legs. My knees…not so much, but legs are strong. I’m concerned about squats and lunges with my knees creaking and popping the way they do. We may have to do some modifications until I can lose enough weight to do them properly.

All in all, I’m pumped about the next 6 months. I know I can make these changes and I have finally made up my mind that it’s worth it. I want to be around for my grandchildren and not be one of those grandmas that is so tired she can’t move, or too fat to ride rollercoasters. I want to look HAWT for my 50th birthday in 2.5 years! I want to be in the best shape of my life, and I’m ready and willing to make the changes that are necessary to make my “wishes” reality.

10/3/16 – 337.2lbs, size 26/28 (Starting weight)
10/17/16 – 325lbs, size 24

Seasons of Change

I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. ~ Anne of Green Gables

There is something about Fall mornings that turn temperatures cooler that bring about a desire for change in me. I usually spend summer in a heated haze – not moving, barely making it through the days because of the heat. I feel like a slug on the sidewalk, moving as fast as I can (which is slow enough to be fried to a crisp when the sun comes out), but never really making much progress.

But Fall…ah, that is a different story. Fall is a season of new beginnings for me. Every year for the past three years, I have started a “diet” of sorts in the Fall. Every year, I have managed to lose 20-30 pounds before Christmas, only to take a “break” and gain it all back, plus some. I have realized I can only stick with something by myself for about 90 days. That’s all I’ve got in me. I have come to accept that I am not a person of great fortitude, nor am I a self-motivator. This has been a hard realization. I *want* to be those things, but the truth of the matter is that I am not.

I have lived the past 40 of my 47 years as a “talker-downer”…being my own worst enemy. Who needed mean girls in high school? I was (and to this day still am) meaner to myself than anyone else could have possibly imagined. (And let’s just be clear about this – I did NOT need to diet in high school!) My sister-in-law used to make me pay a quarter for every time I said I was sorry, because I literally said it for everything. I felt like everything bad that happened was my fault, and even as a 7 year-old girl, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. I don’t know why, either! That’s the crazy part…when did I start to loathe myself so?

So October 1st, I made a decision. I’m going to do my best (through MUCH prayer and submission to God) to stop talking down to myself. After all, He knit me in my mother’s womb…I am wonderfully and fearfully made. I am HIS creation! What am I saying about God when I crack jokes about my weight to others or hate on myself?

I’m not telling many people this, but I joined a gym. I’ve told a few close to me because I need and covet their prayers, and of course, my family knows. In addition to joining the gym, because *I* know myself and I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have someone or something waiting on me there…I joined a group of really fabulous ladies in a program called “Barbell Butterflies”. I just started Phase 1 yesterday, which is 3 weeks of nutrition and goal setting education and then 5 weeks of beginner weight training education.

Baby steps…Phase 2 will start in December, just in time for the Christmas holidays! (woohoo – I love me some accountability partners!) and end at the end of April. I hope to lose about 60 pounds by the end of April. I have a total of 150 to lose. Yes…I said 150. GULP. I can only think of it in terms of 50-lb increments. It’s the *only* way I can wrap my head around the fact that I have let myself go this far.

I was so excited on Saturday that my oldest daughter and I went to Walmart in search of some larger, roomier t-shirts for me. I’m wearing a women’s 26-28 right now, so I thought “Surely a men’s 3X will fit!” Grabbed a couple of cute looking t-shirts from the men’s rack and tried on the largest one first:

I might have shed a few tears right there in the dressing room. *sigh* I didn’t buy the shirt, but I should have…just as a “goal” shirt.

However, today is a new day…October is my “month of change” and I am not backing down from it this time. I got up at 4 am and went to the gym. Not only did I go to the gym, but I went IN! That’s actually pretty huge for me…because I hate going where people “might see me” working out (as opposed to seeing me NOT working out….I know, makes zero sense!). Everyone there is so encouraging and smiley-faced. Who knew!?! I can do this. And if I can do it, anyone can do it.


And you thought this was going to be a real post

A year has passed and still the blog sits empty, forlorn, forgotten. I think about it quite often – always have things I want to share, but never the time to formulate my thoughts into cohesive sentences.

I can’t believe I was ever considering writing as a career! What a hoot. 🙂 I’d have made it halfway through one book and then pfft!

The real reason I’m writing this post right now is to test comments from a blog feed. I’m trying to accomplish something for a client and had to actually WRITE something and publish it in order for the test to work. 🙂

So I’m here…alive and kicking. Sometimes screaming…but otherwise, doing very well. 🙂 Hope you’re all doing well and someday when the season of “busy” has passed, I hope you’ll visit and chat with me again. I’ve missed you all!

Lost: Sense of Humor

So this morning, I googled: “lost sense of humor”.

I came across a very uplifting and encouraging article about how I’m probably in the throes of depression or have a serious psychological disorder that needs medical attention. I don’t think that’s very funny.

So they could be on to something.

I had a few insights I was going to share about the last three months of living with my mom, but since we’re still here and she’s buying the groceries, I should probably wait until we get home before I talk about some of these things. I mean, we have to eat.

Instead, I’ll share a Top Ten list of reasons why you should never move back in with your parents (even if you are the one trying to help them):

Top Ten Reasons You Should Never Move Back in With Your Parents as an Adult:

  1. Every single pile of crap in the house will get blamed on your puppy, never mind the fact that another bladder-challenged dog lives in the house.
  2. You’ll have to listen to the virtues of how important it is to potty train whilst scraping crap off the wheels of her motorized wheelchair and cleaning up the mile-long trail of smeared turds that she left before she noticed she had driven through it in the first place.
  3. Your kids need their own space – a place away from critical eyes and opinions that would never be shared if you weren’t living with parents.
  4. Because old people can’t eat food unless it’s going to burn the fake skin off the roof of their dentures, and that requires reheating everything they eat  multiple times during one meal.
  5. You will never pour a cup of coffee and make it to your chair without having a parent finish their first cup and ask for  a refill, which means standing at the microwave for two minutes to heat a new cup up past the boiling point.
  6. If you have siblings, you will always be the bad guy. Always. Just accept that and move on.
  7. The fact that you have lived on your own successfully for the last 24 years will not prevent your parent from treating you like a child again.
  8. You’ll start to remember why you moved out at 17 in the first place.  Alpha Females – there can be only one. ‘Nuff said.
  9. You’ll begin to believe your mom when she tells you that you’re not the person you used to be and that you’ve completely lost your sense of humor.
  10. No matter how hard you try to get along, after a certain period of time, you’ll lose the cool facade that has been hanging on by a thread and you’ll say something you regret, or at the very least, compose a Top Ten list of why you shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

(no old people were harmed in the making of this post)

Change is hard

Fall is here and we are in our fourth week of homeschooling. Wishing I could say it’s been an easy transition from summer, but the truth of the matter is – it has not.

Some of the things we have learned:

  1. 3rd grade math is much more difficult than 2nd grade math.
  2. When the curriculum states you must do a book report, guess what? You must actually read the book first.
  3. Rambling sentences with lots of dashes and ampersands do not a story make.

Something just feels a bit off this year for me. Perhaps it is in part because of the hectic and emotional summer we just came through. Or maybe it is because I am getting old.  It could just be that my heart is not in the right place…I seem to be too focused on myself and how I feel lately…what I need versus what I can and should be doing for those around me who are hurting.

I am always joking that “I don’t have time to fall apart, there are too many people depending on me”. But honestly? I think I long for solitude more than anything right now. The ability to get away from everyone and everything and just be with God. I don’t have that luxury for a while, however – we are about to uproot our family and move in with my mom in order to take care of her while she rehabilitates from her latest injury (she recently fell and crushed her knee – consequently had knee surgery and is in rehab for another week or so).

While I consider it a true privilege and blessing to be able to minister to my mom, there is a small part of me that wants to cry out, “When is it MY turn? When do I get to rest?”

I am moody and irritable, easily “set off” by small things that shouldn’t affect me in this way. I am at what feels a bit like an impasse  – wedged firmly in between wanting to minister to those around me and a continual desire to just be left alone by everyone. Makes so much sense, I know.

It’s an odd place I find myself. I am certain I am not being a very willing vessel for the Lord of late.

I have been reading in the Psalms for my early morning quiet time  and this morning came across the familiar verse from Psalm 141:3 – “Set a watch, O LORD, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips.”.  Like gentle hug from God, this verse really spoke to me this morning. We must quiet our own hearts and mouths if we are to be able to listen to the voice of God.

Even though I may feel discouraged, overwhelmed and stressed out, it is important that I remember that God is more than able to see me through it. I must not allow my feelings to dictate how I respond to my husband or my children. I pray that one day, change will be easier. Right now, it is just so hard.

It’s Official…

I am the worst photographer ever. But let me back up…

A week ago, I woke up to the most wonderful surprise. My husband left me a note on the toilet seat telling me not to flush it. Oh…that didn’t come out right…the note was on top of a BOX that was sitting on the toilet seat. (Look…I know what you’re thinking right now…”why did he leave it on the toilet seat?” I don’t know why he left it on the toilet seat – he’s the kind of guy that will tell you to meet him at 7:32 pm instead of 7:30. You can’t stop him – he’s a juggernaut of ambition that grabs life by the throat and squeezes everything he can out of it).

Anyway…inside the box was a brand spankin’ new one of these:

And it wasn’t even my birthday. Or Mother’s Day. Or Christmas. I mean, the man bought me this camera…get this…JUST BECAUSE.

I’ve wanted a digital SLR as long as I can remember. It seemed like everyone had one except for me – Rachel, Beth, Dianne, Darcy, Heather, Dawn…and the list goes on and on. Some of them have even taken photography to the next level and have gone to big expos and Photoshop worlds and the like., while I’ve been sitting home editing my photos taken with my point and shoot Kodak in Photoshop so they’d look “cool”. But inside I knew there had to be a huge difference between a point and shoot and a digital SLR.

I’ve been reading a book by Scott Kelby about digital photography and he said that there’s two really good times to shoot outside. Early in the morning when the sun comes up or in the evening before the sun goes down. I like to pretend that he really only meant in the evening before the sun goes down because what mom in her right mind gets up at the butt crack of dawn to take a photo of a kid in pajamas? (Oh, excuse me…I said butt crack — oops, I said it again. Forgive me for being so crass)

So we went to the hospital’s park tonight because there’s a really cool water fountain and bridge and it has a woodsy feel to it and I kept imagining how awesome the shots would be and how great the photos were going to turn out, because I’ve seen photo shoots taken there. I thought it would be *perfect*.

Um…not so much. Let’s just say I have a looooooooooooooooooooong way to go before I’m ready to show any of my photos on this old blog. Pioneer Woman I am not. Nosirreebob.

So, I’ll be doing a LOT more reading and studying up on things like filters and f-stops, apertures and shutter lag. I’ll also be taking a LOT more really bad photos in hopes that I’ll get one good one for every 150 bad ones. The good news? The film is free. 🙂

Plus, I’m actually excited about the challenge and will be sharing some of my photos here – I might even start participating in some photography memes, who knows?

One thing is for sure – I’m going to have fun being bad. Not too many times a Preacher’s wife can get away with saying that! 😉

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