Back To The Drawing Board

Hrmm. Dilemma. I don't think I'm going to totally move after all. It's just to hard and I'm being lazy. I'll just post where I feel like it, when I feel like it. End of story.


So, what's up with me? Well, I'm having major emotional issues. They're weird ones - but I'm a weird one, so I guess it makes sense. I haven't been to the gym in almost 2 months now and I'm very angry with myself. I feel like everything I spent so much time working on just got flushed down the toilet. I didn't gain too much weight back, about 7 pounds I think. I'm at 309. Which is a heck of a lot better than 320. But still...


Here's what went down. I was going to the gym with my bestest friend in the whole world. Then her husband, who's a pastor, got a church in Maryland. We lived in NY. You can do the math. So, I kinda gave up because I didn't have my gym buddy anymore. But then, I'm all like "well - that's a chicken crap way to be, Lorikate." and I feel like I should be going.

And I should be.

But every time I think about going without her, I want to cry. I know it's strange, but she was my best friend soul mate. And those don't come along that often. So I don't think I've emotionally dealt with her moving away. I feel like a silly teenager, but I really relied on her friendship. We're still friends, but it's not the same. It just ain't.

So I think the plan is to suck it up, grab the iPod and go back to the gym. Tomorrow. Hubby's not working or in school, so I have the day to do that if I want. I have to get through this.

Huh, who'd a thunk going to the gym was such an emotional battle. But it is, I'll let you know how it works out.

Wish me luck.

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I Refuse To Blog About Houseplants

Once again, I was inspired. I don't know what I'm going to do when I run out of inspiration. Probably spend my days posting about how well my houseplants are doing.

"and today...my windowsill houseplant had 2 brown leaves. Oh no! Whatever shall I do? I've watered, and watered..but it's not exactly my fault that it's been raining for a week straight, and there's no sun. Do I have to import artificial sunlight....because..."

Yeah. No. Good thing you all inspire me. Today's inspiration comes from my real life best friend, Crystal @ The Purpose Driven Journey. She wrote a post called 7 Things I Don't Have. At first I thought....'ok, that's rather negative..", but then I read on.

You'll see - here's my 7 things:

1. I don't have 13 extra pounds. Cuz they're gone now!

2. I don't have smallpox. For which I am very grateful.

3. I don't have a cardboard box for a house. Good thing, because cardboard boxes don't have Internet hookups.

4. I don't have a selfish husband. Or a cheating one. Or one that hits me.

5. I don't have mountains of debt. I have some, but it's like a small hill of debt, not a mountain.

6. I don't have a migraine. Not today, Thank God.

7. I don't have bedbugs. Not anymore.

See? It's like being positive in reverse. Rather interesting to think that way. Especially because I've been sick for a week straight, and am coughing like crazy. But I still have a lot of good in my life. I do need to get back to the gym soon, but all in good time. I need to get better first. And I've been eating well, so that's one thing I can do at the moment!

Well, I'll leave you all with a thought -What 7 things don't you have?

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Welcome, Brunhilda

So, by now everyone's pretty much figured out that I had a bad day yesterday.

Flabby McGee's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Except that the end of it turned out quite well. I ate great yesterday, Turkey sandwiches, yogurt, strawberries, cucumbers...Yum. I'm getting hungry thinking about it. Anyway - I was proud of myself for getting back on track there.
Then my gym buddy told me she couldn't go to the gym. (she has 5 children- 'nuff said.) I was disappointed, and started getting depressed.

Then I told myself to knock it the heck off. So I got up, and went to the gym.

All by myself.

So, I'm proud of me. I am petrified of gyms, and I'm scared of what others might say. It's hard enough for me to get to the gym with my best friend, much less alone. But I realized yesterday that I need to be there, probably more so than anyone else. I realized that that makes me stronger than most - to admit what I need to fix, and fix it. I also realized that no one knows who I am or why I'm there.

For all they know -

I could be Brunhilda, the heavyweight division wrestling champion of Germany.

I could be making $100 an hour testing gyms to see if they're good enough for fat people.

I could be undergoing a sex change operation and bulking up for the future.

I could be a detective staking out a drug running ring at my local gym.

I could be a famous actor in a fat suit trying to do research for my latest film.

I could be a Biggest Loser candidate, getting ready to work out 8 hours a day.

I realized that they don't know me, they don't know who I am, and they especially don't know what I've achieved.

They see a fat girl on a treadmill,

I see a girl who's lost 13 pounds.
I see a girl who couldn't walk up the stairs, but now can go 2 miles on an elliptical.
I see a girl who's conquered her eating problems.
I see a girl who is brutally honest with herself.
I see a girl who is strong - inside and out.

I felt awesome. So, I guess it wasn't a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day after all.

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A Day At The Gym

I have done it! I went to the gym. For some that may not be much - but for me it's a milestone.

I've been going for about a week now, with my best friend. I went 2 days last week, and I went for the first time this week today. I want to get about 3 workouts at the gym a week. And I want to do some sort of physical activity at least once a day. Except for maybe Sunday. Sunday's a good day to chill out.

So....the gym. Yeah. What is it about the gym that scares me so much? Let me give you a day in the life of Fatty McGee at the Gym.

9:30 AM - Trying to get some extra hours of sleep after putting my son on the bus. I toss, I turn, I cover my eyes with a sock, and the Hubby wakes me up to tell me that my friend C called and wants to go to the gym. The tossing and turning turns into moaning and groaning, because all I want to do is SLEEP. I went to bed at 3 am, woke up at 8. But, I know if I don't do this today, I won't do it later on. Time to start making myself do what I don't want to do. So I get up, throw on the famed red underwire bra, and get ready to work out at the gym. Oh, the fun, the fun.

10:15 AM - C picks me up and off we go. Talk, talk, talk. Ok we're here. I go in and the first thing I need is my credit card, I'm thirsty and have no pockets and no change. I'm too lazy to carry a wallet around the gym (carrying a drink is enough of a pain) so I yank my card out of my bra strap, and swipe me a Gatorade. Pull my membership card from the same place, ignore the stares, and in we go.

You're smiling and running? I hate you.

10:30 AM - I'm here. Goody.  Now, I will state right here for the record that there is no way I would be here without C. We have a women's only part of the gym, and although it's women - it's still intimidating. Miss Skinny Blonde is on the floor doing crunches, and Beautiful Brunette is on the elliptical. I make my way to the treadmill, while C tans a little, and start warming up. Setting the treadmill on 1.5, off I go. I work up a sweat, and feel like I'm booking it along - I'm doing great! Then I look over at the other girls....and they're running. Running. Sheesh. Note to self - buy blinders.

11:00 AM - C's done and we start the weights. Machines only - I'm not crazy enough to pretend I know how to lift free weights. We make the rounds, and I notice one thing. Weight machines do not come in plus sizes. My hips and thighs hang over the edge of every seat. I look around and wonder how many people are laughing at me, and how many are waiting for me to break the machine. the only thing that keeps me going is talking to C. Distraction is my friend here. The good thing is, every muscle feels every move, so I'm doing something right somehow.

11:30 AM - Back to the cardio stuffs. C gets on the elliptical, and I decide to join her. 2 minutes later and I decide to try the bicycle. 2 seconds later, I just stick to the treadmill. My butt's too big for anything else, and my thighs can't handle elliptical workouts. C's going on 2 miles, and I'm working on 5 minutes of walking at 1.5. This is truly sad. I see many different people starting to work out - a Muslim lady, a lady with 5 pounds of green eyeshadow on (at the gym?!?! Really?) and a middle aged lady doing yoga on the floor. She has a bit of a muffin top too, so I don't feel so bad. But now it's time to leave. Note to self - find out when the fat people go to the gym so I don't feel so alone.

12:00 AM - Back in the van, cooling off, I decide to go to Subway and get me a foot long veggie on wheat. For fun I decide to try spinach leaves, I hear they're good for you. I even feel stupid ordering veggie on wheat, because I just know they're waiting for me to order the meatball sub with 3 cookies. I fool them all - I get Baked Lay's. Ha. Time to go home and eat in peace and anonymity.

So that's it. Every time. The gym scares me, but since I have C, I can handle it. I know I can do this, I just have to be as stubborn about this as I am about getting up and going to McDonald's for breakfast.

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The Moment Of Awareness

I woke up one warm morning in May, slowly getting out of bed, wearing the customary pajama pants and requisite grubby T-shirt. I was sore, tired, and hungry. I wanted food, but didn't want to cook anything. Heck, I was too tired to even toast an English Muffin. Wearily I glanced at my holey red underwire bra and decided I was too tired to put it on. The shoulder straps dig my shoulders and the wire digs into the fleshy part of my back. I am no glutton for punishment, so I figured that the man in the drive thru window of McDonald's didn't care much about how high my boobs were that morning. Instead I reached for my tattered purple sports bra, the bra that keeps my breasts off of my knees, but thankfully requires minimum effort to wear. Throwing my ancient navy blue hoodie on, I gathered some energy, and went to the car.

Once in the car I realized that it would have taken just as much effort to grab a pop tart. Oh well, I was already in the car - there was no going back. Besides, McDonald's was sounding better by the moment. Wrestling the seat belt around my fat rolls, I started up the car and off I went.

Yum.

Reaching McDonald's in that miraculous time between breakfast and lunch, I saw that there was no line. Glad that there was nothing keeping this fat girl from her food I ordered 2 ham, egg and cheese bagel sandwiches, 1 hash brown, and 1 large Mocha Frappe. Yum. Oh yeah, I got some sausage egg Mcmuffins for the hubby while I was at it. Too make me feel less guilty I grabbed him a Mocha Frappe too. I'm so thoughtful it's scary.

Once at home, I woke up the Man, and left him his food. I went downstairs, plopped onto my side of the couch, and ate one bagel sandwich as fast as I could. I didn't want my husband to find out exactly how much I had ordered, or how much I spent. It was good, but I barely tasted it. When he finally came downstairs I was working on my second sandwich, and he remained blissfully unaware of my expenditure. And my appetite.

It was somewhere in these morning moments that I realized something. I had not seen my bellybutton in about 19 years. If I get a mirror, and lay flat down on my bed - I just may catch a momentary glimpse. But I haven't seen it in forever, primarily because I'm just too lazy to get the mirror out and find it. I realized that I don't know what it's like to have a flat stomach, or what if feels like to shop in a regular store. I don't know what it is to sweat, much less work out. I'm 31 years old, and I'm on 4 different medications, because of weight related health problems. I can't play soccer with my 9 year old son, or walk around the mall with my friends. I realized that I'm scared, and I don't want to die of a heart attack at age 40.

So this is my wake up call, my last ditch effort to take back my life. This blog will hopefully serve at a place to vent, whine, brag and boast. I want to be the success story, the woman who loses 150 pounds (or more) through natural means. I can do this.

My plan? Exercise, I joined a gym with my best friend - who is willing to work out with me 3 times a week. Eat right, I don't know how - but that's what the Internet is for. I can research, and learn what I need to know. So, join me as I try to solve The Case Of The Missing Bellybutton - laugh, cry, snort, mock, whatever you want. Just don't offer me a cookie.

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