I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Friday afternoon. Today's article is for my friend, T, for whom vodka is not so much a hobby as an avocation. Russia's favorite drinks turns 500 gives a brief history of vodka in Russia. I especially like that it "is thought to have been invented in 1503 by Kremlin monks, who used it as an antiseptic before they started downing it". Everyone made fun of Kitty Dukakis for drinking rubbing alcohol but it turns out that the Russians were doing it almost 500 years earlier -- who knew?
By the way...T, if you're reading this, I was just kidding about the avocation thing. I know you're just a "recreational" user.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life...blah, blah, blah
Thursday morning. Alright now! I picked up my DietToGo delivery from UPS last night, and so, today the horrible eating stops (she says firmly). I mean, honestly, I feel absolutely horrible. Not just emotionally (which is true), but physically as well. I'm not sleeping well, I feel nauseated most of the time, and I have no energy. I am, truly, ready for this to be over and to go back to my normal routine: open vacuum sealed bag, pop in toaster and/or microwave, enjoy meal. These meals come with lots of fresh fruit and veggies, too, and are very well balanced nutritionally, so it's just a great way for someone as lazy as I am to eat what I'm supposed to. It also saves me a ton of money because the meals are a lot cheaper than eating fast food or in the VLSCI cafeteria. I'm going to try to drink 96oz of water today, too, just to speed along the flushing out of all of the evil things I've put into my poor body for the last nine days. Last, but not least, I am going to try to get down to the gym tonight for an hour of hill training, although I'm not going to push it if it hurts too much. I'm supposed to do 10 miles this weekend with the RoadRunners, though, so I'd better find out before then if I'm going to have to drop out of the training or not. I am going to be highly annoyed with myself if I've sabotaged this thing after putting so much time and energy into it!
Moving right along, C and I had an emotionally charged discussion yesterday morning which has stirred up a lot of old issues for me. It was all about my fear and loathing of any sort of emotional confrontation. This can include even the simplest discussion if it has the potential of upsetting the other participant(s). Ever since I can remember, back into the deepest parts of my childhood, I have avoided any and all situations where there was anger or frustration or any negative emotion. To this day, even if I simply think about being in such a situation, my stomach knots, my body tenses, and I go into avoidance mode. This little foible of mine has made certain parts of my job as a manager very trying for me and, in fact, I've actually gone to great lengths in the past just to avoid being put into situations where I have no choice but to confront one of my team members head on. In my personal life, one of the techniques I use to avoid being involved in any kind of conflict is to cover up any negative emotions I feel. For instance, if someone hurts my feelings, I do my very best to pretend that it didn't happen and just shut myself off until it passes. This is, unfortunately, anathema for C, who feels that we need to be completely honest and open with one another. I have to say here that my covering up has worked exceptionally well with almost everyone I've ever encountered, with the exception of my mother (who can spot when I'm upset from 100 miles away, which is unnerving) and C. The discussion yesterday started as I was driving to work, continued on C's lunch break, and finished (temporarily, I fear) as C drove home from work. I know that I need to deal with this. I really dislike the powerless way that I feel whenever someone I'm talking to gets angry. Dr Karen and I started discussing this a really long time ago and she did make some suggestions, but I think it warrants further investigation, especially because I can tell that C is not going to let it drop and I can't take the way that these discussions are making me feel. One thing at a time, though, and I've got my to do list pretty full just with trying to get back to a healthy lifestyle, so this is going to have to go back burner for a little while.
Weeks until LA Marathon: 22 (I'll bet you thought I'd forgotten about or dropped this, didn't you??? HA!) Weeks until Christmas: 11 Exercise yesterday: None, but I'm hoping to reverse that trend today
Wednesday afternoon. I just read Parting with a Pet, and I am crying my eyes out, thinking how horrible it would be to have to put either of my beasts down. Dave, with his wide blue eyes, and Abby, the nubian princess with almond shaped eyes of the ripest green...they are my children. Yes, I am that pathetic! I know that Dave is rotten around anyone except my ex husband and I, particularly so to any men I've ever brought home. (Thinking about it, though, he was right about all of them. Hmmm.) I know that Abby is still too skittish to let me hold her. I don't care. They are my loving companions and they rely on me to take care of them and keep them safe, and that's just what I intend to do. Sometimes I worry about what would happen to them if something happened to me. I know it's terribly morbid and a little weird to be worrying about that, but I do. I also worry that if I end up relocating to the southeast to be with C, the travel and transition will be too much for my babies and they will suffer and never be the same sweet kitties again.
Honestly, it's probably a really good thing that I've never had any human children.
So said Denise on 5:14 PM # | 0 comments
Wednesday morning. Today's article of the day comes from eDiets.com, because this is what I really need to focus on right now. Why You Choose To Stay Fat is the third in a three part series by Dr. Matthew Anderson discussing the role of your subconscious in keeping you fat. Try reading all three of the articles with an open mind. I know that I really resisted all of them as I read them the first time, and it took several readings before I acknowledged that at least some part of what he was saying was true for me. He includes several exercises as well, which seem as though they will be really helpful at pinpointing my motivation for self sabotage, although I haven't sat down and really done these for myself yet. Interesting to be sure and definitely thought provoking.
Tuesday evening. What a day! We (apparently) have a new governor here in California and already there is talk of starting a recall effort for him. If some lame brained idiot out there, or group of idiots, decides that the best way to fix what's wrong with California is to burn through another $40M with a budget defecit approaching $8B, I hope that the license renewals for their super expensive luxury cars quadruple instead of just tripling, like the rest of us. Grump, grump, grump.
No, by the way, I didn't get my exercise in tonight. Similarly, I didn't get my eating under control, either. I don't want to talk about it because I'm just sick of hearing myself talk about it, much less putting you good folks through it. Less talk, more action.
So said Denise on 11:15 PM # | 0 comments
Tuesday morning. Interesting phenomenon. I woke up this morning, without the alarm, at 4:45am. Yes, you read that correctly! I think it's a combination of not being adjusted to Pacific time yet and the side effects of eating like a pig for the better part of a week without any appreciable exercise. Why would the gluttony and sloth make me unable to sleep properly? As a diabetic whose disease is generally tightly controlled through diet and exercise, when I go off course, I get hot and sweaty, my blood sugar goes up, and I have to get up to use the bathroom several times in the middle of the night. And yet, still, this does not seem to be enough to get me back on track. Frustrating? Oh, yes. Moving right along...
This California couple exploits many methods to build wealth - Oct. 3, 2003 is an article about a family living in one of the most expensive areas in the country and thriving with only one income. It is always so inspiring to me to read about people doing more with less, making material sacrifices in order to get where they want to go. This story goes a little further because the couple says that they actually enjoy their sacrifices, speaking as though saving money and doing without things like a DVD player and cell phone are part of an enjoyable game. I just don't know if I could ever get into saving money in that way, which is part of why I'm so terrified about the possibility of giving up my job, and my lifestyle, and moving to Knoxville or somewhere near there. Still, it's nice to know that it can be done, even if I'm never brave enough to give it a try.
Wait...I forgot to tell you about my fabulous weekend in Washington with C!
The meetings on Wednesday and Thursday went well other than the fact that the pumps I wore were too tight around my heel and rubbed away part of the skin so that I have an attractive sore now. Otherwise, things went well.
I woke up Friday morning, determined to do a hour and 45 minute walk on the treadmill. I got dressed, brought my CD player and cell phone, and headed down to the gym. To my horror and annoyance, some guy was just starting his time on the treadmill when I walked into the gym! I was going to hit the elliptical when I realized that the marathon training schedule really requires walking, not aerobic equivalent, so I opted to head outside instead. Across the street from the hotel (and the intervening strip mall restaurants) was a mega mall, so I decided to walk a few laps around that, avoiding traffic and all that mess. As I stepped outside, I was hit by air colder than anything I've ever felt on my exposed skin. (I later checked the temperature on weather.com and it said that it was 40 degrees at that point of the day. I believe it.) I didn't bring anything except shorts and tshirts to work out in, so that's what I was wearing. Additionally, I'd left my hat, sunglasses, and sunscreen in the room because I was going to be in the gym where I wouldn't need them. Grump, grump, grump! I did about 48 minutes before retreating to the warmth of the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Yow!
After breakfast, showering, and checking out of the hotel, I headed over to the mall again, this time by car, to search for some warmer clothes. I brought nothing but short skirts and short sleeved shirts, so I needed a few long sleeved shirts and long trousers for the weekend in DC. I found some neat Land's End stuff at Sears (not a place I'd normally shop!) and then hit the highway for Reagan National Airport in DC.
I was noshing at the CPK (California Pizza Kitchen, for the uninitiated) when C called to say that his flight had landed early, so I was sitting at my table when he walked around the corner from the security desk. I cannot even tell you what it felt like to see him, to see his face light up with a huge smile when he spotted me. He actually stopped in his tracks, as though just looking at me was all he could manage. Quite a welcome, all in all. He came over to me, we hugged tightly, and then he sat down to order lunch.
When your relationship usually consists of phone calls and the occasional online chat with webcam, to sit next to someone and just talk about what they should order for lunch becomes almost sacred. It's as though I needed to memorize every second because I knew that they wouldn't last and that I would be alone in the big, scary world again after his plane left on Sunday. The mundane elevated to the sublime. You'd have had to be there to understand, so just trust me on this one.
So, what did we do with our (nearly) two days together? Not a whole lot, to be honest. The weather was a little inhospitable and I was really tired after the meetings, so we spent a lot of time together, talking and laughing, and showing our love for each other in ways both obvious and imperceptible. We went for a drive around DC, I saw National Cathedral, which I've always wanted to see, and we ate all of our meals at our hotel. The thing that I remembered, again, is that it just doesn't matter so much what we do together, it's the together that matters. Furthermore, C isn't one of my superficial, obsessed with appearances acquaintances who is impressed with the size of the restaurant's wine list or the snootiness of the wait staff, so going somewhere "impressive" just isn't important.
Waking next to his warm, somnolent body on Sunday was bittersweet. I drank in every part of the moment that I could before I had to get up, repack all of my junk, and shower. I waited as long as possible to wake C, both to let him rest, and because I didn't want the bubble to burst, but he was, eventually, roused and made ready, and we set off for Baltimore. I kept hearing this little voice inside me saying, "please don't leave me...come home with me and make me happy forever" and I wanted to say it out loud but I knew that it wouldn't be fair to either of us to do so. I went through the well known routine of travel, which kept me focused on those things I know how to do: return the rental car, go to the ticket counter, check in and turn in luggage, stand in line for security, walk to the gate. It wasn't until we got to the gate (his was 16, mine was 10, so we sat at 12, which was in between) that the pain became more than I could bear. I cried just a little before I spotted my co worker MJ and her boyfriend, L. They, too, were on my flight home, and joined us where we were sitting. I introduced them to C, which really made me feel a lot better, as though we would be a little more "real" if people around me knew him.
When they called his row, we walked slowly to his gate and I let slip, "please don't go..." as tears started sliding down my face. I knew it was unfair, and I knew there wasn't any response he could make, and I said it anyway. As he slipped away from me, walking down the hallway to the jetway, the tears flowed freely until I couldn't see him anymore. I cried silently for a few seconds, then wiped my eyes and walked back to my seat. Thank goodness MJ and L were waiting for me, because I had to pull myself together.
Now, it just feels like a dream, a wonderful, beautiful dream. He's back at work, calling me on his lunch break, and I'm here waiting to go home, and it's as if it never happened. Except, of course, for the wonderful memories of his smile, his laugh, and the way his hand felt in mine.
So said Denise on 4:39 PM # | 0 comments
Monday afternoon. I am so fed up with this "two steps forward, one step back" dance that I've been doing with my health for the last 18 months!!! I can almost feel myself moving beyond the feeling sorry for myself stage and straight into raw anger...at myself, at the world, at every skinny person who can eat anything they want and not gain weight. It's all so completely unfair and annoying and aggravating. Yes, I know that I'm being whiny and infantile and several other unattractive things, but I just don't care. The logical part of my brain has taken a brief vacation, leaving its unpleasant cousin to stand in, and I'm giving free rein to the resulting tantrums. Why can't I figure this out??? What magic thing, switch, realization, or whatever needs to happen so that this stupid obsession with weight will cease being the most important part of my life??? Do I sound like I've lost it? Good, because I have. I don't know what to do and I'm scared, frustrated, angry, sad, disappointed, and confused all at once. It feels as though the effort necessary to regroup, yet again, is just more than I have inside me. I know that's not true, but that's the way that it feels right now.
I think what frustrates me the most is the fact that I'm fairly successful in other parts of my life. I have a great job, for instance. I started as a receptionist at VLSCI, or, rather, the company that VLSCI acquired, right out of college, and have worked my way up to software development project management. I scrapped and fought my way through teaching myself DOS, Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Project, and every other software application I've had to use. As a life long math dolt, I now routinely crunch numbers as part of my job responsibilities and people here actually think that I know what I'm doing when it comes to statistical analysis. Work is good, I work with (and for) people that I respect and enjoy, and I make enough money to be fairly happy. (Would I be happier if I could buy the BMW 3 series or Pottery Barn house that I covet? Heck, yes! Do I truly need those things? Well...)
So, why, if I've managed to fight my way up the corporate ladder at one of the hottest tech companies in the country, am I unable to take care of this really little thing (eating properly and getting adequate exercise)? I haven't a clue. If you look at my 35, nearly 36, years on this planet, I've spent at least 25 of them obsessing about how I look and, if not actively trying to lose weight then at least thinking about what to try next. So much wasted time and effort. What has this obsession kept me from doing? It makes me sick to think about that because my life is so small and some part of me is absolutely certain that the same thing that keeps me fat keeps me from living the life that I want and letting my light shine out. I remember that my friend N from work once gave me a quote that said something like, "there's no honor in playing it small, in hiding your light under a stone. Let your light and your life shine forward, for everyone to see..." Am I afraid to lose weight? Afraid that I might lose all of this insulation and find that everyone still doesn't like me? I don't know. When I lost 110 pounds in 1996/7, I ended up separated from my husband and dating for the first time since I was in college. It was, and still is, absolutely frightening. I am someone with terrible self esteem, and dating is like rubbing caustic lye across sensitive skin to those of us who question our own self worth without any help. I don't know if this is behind my weight loss troubles or not and, ultimately, it doesn't matter. Why I do this isn't nearly as important as making it stop and getting on with what needs to be done.
OK, enough ranting. I think I might have worked some of my anger out and I'm ready to take action. Once I've talked to C on his lunch break tonight, I'm headed down to the gym to do as much of nine miles as I can stand, no matter how long it takes. This marathon is just too important to me to allow the self sabotage genie to derail it!
So said Denise on 3:52 PM # | 0 comments
Monday morning (barely). Today's news clip of the day, Meet a geriatric ‘supercouple’, made me think seriously about my level of commitment to myself. Here are two people that are more than double my age and they're gettting physical exercise seven days a week. I can barely manage five days a week and I moan and complain about it, to boot. My favorite quote comes from Abe (the 92 year old husband in the story), responding to a question about the secret to their success: “We thank God for our blessings, and she takes care of me and I take care of her,” he said. “We don’t envy nobody, and we are grateful for what we have.” Read the whole article today, if you have time, and think about the many blessings you have in your life, many of them unrecognized and under appreciated. I know that I have.
Monday morning. I must get in to work by 8am this morning (I've already notified Amnesty -- they've got me on hold), so I'll post more later, but I just wanted to say that the past week has been the worst trainwreck of a week, health wise, that I can remember. I ate like a pig, drank every night during the conference, and exercised once. Yes, you read that correctly, Dear Readers. Combined with the previous week's dearth of activity, that means I've walked like three hours when I was supposed to do like 13, according to the schedule. I don't even know, at this point, if I can recover and get back to where I need to be. I'm going to try to do the nine mile walk I was supposed to do on Saturday after work today in place of the rest day (believe me, I've done more than enough resting!), then get back on schedule starting with tomorrow's one hour interval training walk. For anyone who happens to be reading (and, seriously, bless you if you've managed to stick with me through last week's hiatus), I'm starting to panic here. This marathon has been my dream for so long that I can't remember a time when it wasn't my wildest dream to complete the LA Marathon...and I see it slipping away from me. Doubt has always been there, right at the edge of my consciousness, saying, "you're too fat to complete a marathon", "you're a failure, you always have been, and you always will be", and other, life affirming things. I feel like crying and eating everything in sight, all at once. This cannot continue.
