I should have realized when my glasses fogged up after entering my hot car to head home from work, it was probably a better day to stay inside for my workout, but the lure of the sunshine beckoned me. It had been overcast and rainy for too many days; the side streets were calling my name.
I decided to stay in my own neighborhood for my walk. It was a little hillier than Montclair, and from time to time it was nice to add in a different level of difficulty. The first twenty minutes were pretty glorious. The skies shined blue, the lawns were a lush green from all the rain of late, and there were colorful blossoms decorating the fronts of my neighbor's homes. People were out and about working in their yards, walking their dogs or simply rocking on their porches enjoying the evening.
I wound my way back and forth along the neighborhood streets at a brisk pace enjoying my surroundings. It was definitely the hottest day we had seen in a long time, and the further I walked, the more I noticed the thickness in the air. As I continued down the road, it became more and more of a challenge to breathe. By the end of the second mile, it was beginning to remind me of the sauna from my cruise which was not a good thing.
To make matters worse, despite the moisture in the air, I was bone dry. I had not hydrated nearly enough for this hot day. My throat was parched and my fingers were swelling in an effort to retain some fluids. This was definitely proving to be a more challenging walk than I had anticipated, and I was kicking myself for not drinking more before heading out on such a hot day.
I turned back in the direction of my home wishing I had a bottle of water with me and chiding myself for yet another novice mistake. The good news was I was in a neighborhood full of friends if I needed to stop somewhere along the way; the bad news was my plan to end my walk at the neighborhood grocery store would need to be readjusted. It would be a bridge too far on this hot day.
As I headed back home, I thought to myself I still have so much to learn. Eventually I know the beginner's mistakes will be behind me, this will all seem routine and I'll be able to say I'm the "Healthy Girl". Perhaps then I'll be able to look back through my blogs and write a "How to Get Healthy for Dummies Guide"complete with a "What Not to Do!" section. Let's face it, I probably could use one!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The Acceptable Discrimination...
I've spent much of my day in a Facebook debate that has left me feeling disheartened. It began when a status popped up on my feed. "Why are fat people Ok with the way they look? Most are happy...I just don't get it?" It continued with a back and forth exchange where several people provided comments including a few full out insults.
There were many things about the dialogue that disturbed me, but what bothered me most was the confidence with which people passed judgement about a stranger's character based on their appearance. "Heavy people have no will power. They aren't willing to work hard. They simply have no self-control. They settle for mediocrity."
I've spent most of my life eating all the wrong things and exercising on a very limited basis. I have certainly demonstrated a lack of self-control with my eating habits. While I was one of the luckier people whose figure suffered fairly little for those choices, my health did. The irony is I was never called out for my lack of will power. I even received kudos for my ability to maintain my figure as I aged. Yet friends who made healthier choices, exercised more and worked harder than I did faced criticism and judgement simply because their metabolism didn't work as well as mine.
Why are we so body obsessed? When did we make it Ok for a person's body to become a measurement of who they are? We all face challenges. Some are harder than others. We are successful at conquering some of those challenges, some remain a battle for our entire lives, and some we simply fail at. The only difference for the heavier person is that their challenge is visible to everyone around them and that leaves them a target for this last form of seemingly acceptable discrimination disguised in a cloak of concern.
In my quest to get healthy I may end up with a better body, but it won't be my body that ultimately defines my success. It will be my ability to live longer, do more and be a better me.
There were many things about the dialogue that disturbed me, but what bothered me most was the confidence with which people passed judgement about a stranger's character based on their appearance. "Heavy people have no will power. They aren't willing to work hard. They simply have no self-control. They settle for mediocrity."
I've spent most of my life eating all the wrong things and exercising on a very limited basis. I have certainly demonstrated a lack of self-control with my eating habits. While I was one of the luckier people whose figure suffered fairly little for those choices, my health did. The irony is I was never called out for my lack of will power. I even received kudos for my ability to maintain my figure as I aged. Yet friends who made healthier choices, exercised more and worked harder than I did faced criticism and judgement simply because their metabolism didn't work as well as mine.
Why are we so body obsessed? When did we make it Ok for a person's body to become a measurement of who they are? We all face challenges. Some are harder than others. We are successful at conquering some of those challenges, some remain a battle for our entire lives, and some we simply fail at. The only difference for the heavier person is that their challenge is visible to everyone around them and that leaves them a target for this last form of seemingly acceptable discrimination disguised in a cloak of concern.
In my quest to get healthy I may end up with a better body, but it won't be my body that ultimately defines my success. It will be my ability to live longer, do more and be a better me.
Monday, May 23, 2011
A Sweet Debate?
When I started my journey a few months ago, I had a vague concept of where I wanted to go with this. I didn't set out to become an expert on physical fitness or a vision of toned, rippling muscles. I didn't set out to reach a perfect weight. Truthfully I just wanted to start making healthier choices day to day, so that I might break the cycle of doctors and illnesses that had beset me in the previous year. Surprisingly. however, each day I invested a little more in my journey, the clearer my goals have become and the further I have wanted to push them.
This has been both good and bad. It has led me to push myself beyond my comfort zone numerous times, but it has also led me down the wrong path on occasion as well. Recently I have become attuned to the amount of sugar the I consume daily. Don't get me wrong, I still have no intention of eliminating sugar from my diet, but I am trying to be more conscious of how much sugar I put in my body. Since I gave up sodas this past year, my drink of choice has become a cup of hot tea with cream and sugar. The advent of the Keurig in our house pushed my addiction to a new level, and it is rare to find me without a cup of tea somewhere within reach. At some point, I began second guessing the 2-3 teaspoons of sugar I use to sweeten the tea with, so I decided to try a few alternative sweeteners. I started with Sweet and Low and Equal, but did not like the aftertaste that came with them. I invested in a box of Truvia, convinced that because it came from a plant, I would be able to get the sweetness I was looking for without the aftertaste. Try as I might, I could not get used to the different flavor, so I gave up on the ideas of artificial sweeteners and returned to sugar.
When I went on my trip to Florida, I stayed with my mother who only keeps Splenda in her sugar bowl. This forced me to try something new again. Much to my surprise, I actually liked the taste of Splenda. By the time I returned home, I had found my new sweetener and was proud of myself for the healthier choice I was making. That is until today when I stumbled across an article detailing the many health risks associated with Splenda consumption, amongst which were potential Kidney problems and bloating. Hmm....I already had my own Kidney problems, probably didn't need any new ones.
I googled the subject and was amazed at all the information out there. A debate was raging in the health care community about the use of Splenda as a sugar substitute. There were several studies which exposed potential serious health concerns, but there were also an equal amount of experts out there providing opposing arguments advocating Splenda's safety and pointing to bias as a factor in the studies which suggested something different. Most of the experts agreed that short term usage presented no real problems, but there was a broad disagreement about the affects on the body on using it for longer periods of time. The real issue becomes who do you believe? Maybe I needed to become an expert on physical fitness after all, if I wanted to ensure I was making all the right choices.
While I tend to hold myself to the mantra "Everything in Moderation", the theory doesn't hold when applied to all situations...for instance, smoking cigarettes. So in the face of so much conflicting information and with the particular concerns that are unique to my own health situation, I have decided to err on the side of wholly natural this time and will convert back to sugar. I'm curious to see where everyone else lands on this debate.
This has been both good and bad. It has led me to push myself beyond my comfort zone numerous times, but it has also led me down the wrong path on occasion as well. Recently I have become attuned to the amount of sugar the I consume daily. Don't get me wrong, I still have no intention of eliminating sugar from my diet, but I am trying to be more conscious of how much sugar I put in my body. Since I gave up sodas this past year, my drink of choice has become a cup of hot tea with cream and sugar. The advent of the Keurig in our house pushed my addiction to a new level, and it is rare to find me without a cup of tea somewhere within reach. At some point, I began second guessing the 2-3 teaspoons of sugar I use to sweeten the tea with, so I decided to try a few alternative sweeteners. I started with Sweet and Low and Equal, but did not like the aftertaste that came with them. I invested in a box of Truvia, convinced that because it came from a plant, I would be able to get the sweetness I was looking for without the aftertaste. Try as I might, I could not get used to the different flavor, so I gave up on the ideas of artificial sweeteners and returned to sugar.
When I went on my trip to Florida, I stayed with my mother who only keeps Splenda in her sugar bowl. This forced me to try something new again. Much to my surprise, I actually liked the taste of Splenda. By the time I returned home, I had found my new sweetener and was proud of myself for the healthier choice I was making. That is until today when I stumbled across an article detailing the many health risks associated with Splenda consumption, amongst which were potential Kidney problems and bloating. Hmm....I already had my own Kidney problems, probably didn't need any new ones.
I googled the subject and was amazed at all the information out there. A debate was raging in the health care community about the use of Splenda as a sugar substitute. There were several studies which exposed potential serious health concerns, but there were also an equal amount of experts out there providing opposing arguments advocating Splenda's safety and pointing to bias as a factor in the studies which suggested something different. Most of the experts agreed that short term usage presented no real problems, but there was a broad disagreement about the affects on the body on using it for longer periods of time. The real issue becomes who do you believe? Maybe I needed to become an expert on physical fitness after all, if I wanted to ensure I was making all the right choices. While I tend to hold myself to the mantra "Everything in Moderation", the theory doesn't hold when applied to all situations...for instance, smoking cigarettes. So in the face of so much conflicting information and with the particular concerns that are unique to my own health situation, I have decided to err on the side of wholly natural this time and will convert back to sugar. I'm curious to see where everyone else lands on this debate.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Slothfulness...
As I lay in my bed listening to the latest episode of "Army Wives" while thinking back on my weekend, the word that keeps popping into my head is "slothfulness". It has been a weekend of poor food choices, skipped work-outs and a general lack of focus, but for some reason I am not carrying my usual rucksack of guilt. Instead I have reached a point where I know that a weekend off is not a gateway to failure for me anymore.
I started the downward spiral when I allowed myself to get distracted from my plan to hit the gym first thing Saturday morning. Instead I took a road trip to the nearby Shenandoah Mountains with my husband. We ended up winding our way from one side of the mountain to the other making stops along the way to explore our favorite local Farmer's Market, stroll up and down the Main Street of Berryville, and nose our way through a Flea Market in Aldie. We listened to Bluegrass music, ate barbecue sandwiches topped with coleslaw and munched on the Tagalong Girl Scouts cookies we bought off the street. An hour turned into five hours and before we knew it a trip to the gym was out for the day.
Sunday morning was also paved with good intentions. Instead of hitting the gym, we decided to try something different and planned to get our exercise in for the day with a round of afternoon golf. I had taken up the game the summer before last and had quickly become hooked. I had not been on a course since before my surgery and was anxious to see if I would pick up where I had left off. I spent the morning weeding through paperwork while I watched movies with the girls, but as it got closer to our tee time, the clouds started gathering. Finally the skies opened up, and our golf game was rained out along with my motivation. Instead of working out, we decided to catch the afternoon showing of the new "Pirate of the Caribbean" movie complete with my favorite movie snacks...Junior Mints and Popcorn.
Despite my lack of commitment, I had a great weekend! It was full of laughter and fun. Tomorrow I will start my day with a Yogurt Parfait and find my way back to the gym, but for tonight I'm playing the sloth a little while longer and enjoying a quiet evening laying in bed, drinking some tea and blogging.
I started the downward spiral when I allowed myself to get distracted from my plan to hit the gym first thing Saturday morning. Instead I took a road trip to the nearby Shenandoah Mountains with my husband. We ended up winding our way from one side of the mountain to the other making stops along the way to explore our favorite local Farmer's Market, stroll up and down the Main Street of Berryville, and nose our way through a Flea Market in Aldie. We listened to Bluegrass music, ate barbecue sandwiches topped with coleslaw and munched on the Tagalong Girl Scouts cookies we bought off the street. An hour turned into five hours and before we knew it a trip to the gym was out for the day.
Sunday morning was also paved with good intentions. Instead of hitting the gym, we decided to try something different and planned to get our exercise in for the day with a round of afternoon golf. I had taken up the game the summer before last and had quickly become hooked. I had not been on a course since before my surgery and was anxious to see if I would pick up where I had left off. I spent the morning weeding through paperwork while I watched movies with the girls, but as it got closer to our tee time, the clouds started gathering. Finally the skies opened up, and our golf game was rained out along with my motivation. Instead of working out, we decided to catch the afternoon showing of the new "Pirate of the Caribbean" movie complete with my favorite movie snacks...Junior Mints and Popcorn. Despite my lack of commitment, I had a great weekend! It was full of laughter and fun. Tomorrow I will start my day with a Yogurt Parfait and find my way back to the gym, but for tonight I'm playing the sloth a little while longer and enjoying a quiet evening laying in bed, drinking some tea and blogging.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Stepping it up....
Who knew when I first stepped on the elliptical a few months ago and could barely manage to keep going for thirty minutes, that it would become one of my regular go to work-outs. Even more surprisingly that it would turn out to be one of my most rewarding work-outs. It seems to continually challenge me to push myself just a little bit farther.
Yesterday wasn't any different. I found myself racing against an imaginary friend as I pretended I was running through the streets of Montclair on a beautiful day. It was that sensation of running that continually called me back to the machine. Running was a sport that was still a little out of my reach. I knew I had the stamina now, but anatomically it still presented a challenge that I hadn't quite worked out. For now the machine would have to do.
Instead of increasing the distance this time, I found myself pushing forward faster and faster in an effort to see just how fast my body could go. When I would feel my body start to slow down, I would try and imagine I was passing a racer to the front of me. Naturally, I would start picking up the pace again. Before I knew it I had reached a two mile point quicker than I had reached it before.
I allowed myself to slow my pace and thought ahead to the day that I would be able to transition from the machine to the road. I'm sure it would be a struggle, just as it had been when I tried the elliptical for the first time. I knew I would have to talk myself through the entire first run, but some day soon, I also knew I would find myself running free along the paths, the wind in my face, the sun on my shoulders and the road under my feet.
Yesterday wasn't any different. I found myself racing against an imaginary friend as I pretended I was running through the streets of Montclair on a beautiful day. It was that sensation of running that continually called me back to the machine. Running was a sport that was still a little out of my reach. I knew I had the stamina now, but anatomically it still presented a challenge that I hadn't quite worked out. For now the machine would have to do.
Instead of increasing the distance this time, I found myself pushing forward faster and faster in an effort to see just how fast my body could go. When I would feel my body start to slow down, I would try and imagine I was passing a racer to the front of me. Naturally, I would start picking up the pace again. Before I knew it I had reached a two mile point quicker than I had reached it before.
I allowed myself to slow my pace and thought ahead to the day that I would be able to transition from the machine to the road. I'm sure it would be a struggle, just as it had been when I tried the elliptical for the first time. I knew I would have to talk myself through the entire first run, but some day soon, I also knew I would find myself running free along the paths, the wind in my face, the sun on my shoulders and the road under my feet.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
My New Friend....
My hoop finally arrived in the mail yesterday after a long week of waiting, and to my relief, I was still able to make it work! I played with it for about thirty minutes just trying to master the basic moves. By the end of the thirty minute period, however, it was obvious I was getting tired as it became more and more challenging to keep the hoop above my waist. I packed it away to bring to the office in the morning. I had ultimately decided that I would get the most out of it by using it for daily breaks. It was new and exciting now, but I wasn't sure over the long hall if it would retain my interest enough to manage the longer cardio work-outs. Only time would tell, if I became a hoopaholic or just a hoop enthusiast.
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I woke this morning to a rainy day and knew it would be the perfect day to try out my hoop for one of my work fitness breaks. So hoop in hand, I headed to the office. When the time came, I surveyed my space to determine the best area to proceed. If I moved my chair, I thought I could manage the hoop pretty easily, so I adjusted the furniture and stepped into the hoop. It didn't even make a full revolution before I heard a thud, and the hoop dropped to the ground. To my dismay I looked behind me to see where it had swiped the wall and left a streak of pink from the ribbon! Uh Oh! Hmmm...this wasn't working quite the way I had had imagined, and to add insult to injury, I might have just created a paint job for myself in the process. Time to move!
My next location proved to be a better space for my adventure, and I was able to get past t
he first revolution without damaging anything in the process. It only took a few minutes for me to realize that I was going to have to break my body in for hooping or add a little padding to my clothing. I already had a slightly bruised abdomen from the previous day's efforts which was tender to the touch. Every time the hoop swung back around, I would feel the impact a little more than the first time. This incentivized me to try to move the hoop up an down my frame to varying positions to avoid the tender spots, but it also made it a little more challenging to keep the hoop aloft. In the end I knew that the short breaks were going to be the best way to ease into the sport. I also made a mental note that I should watch the video that was sent with the hoop as I was guessing it might provide some helpful tips...ie, "Don't hoop for thirty minutes the first time out!"
he first revolution without damaging anything in the process. It only took a few minutes for me to realize that I was going to have to break my body in for hooping or add a little padding to my clothing. I already had a slightly bruised abdomen from the previous day's efforts which was tender to the touch. Every time the hoop swung back around, I would feel the impact a little more than the first time. This incentivized me to try to move the hoop up an down my frame to varying positions to avoid the tender spots, but it also made it a little more challenging to keep the hoop aloft. In the end I knew that the short breaks were going to be the best way to ease into the sport. I also made a mental note that I should watch the video that was sent with the hoop as I was guessing it might provide some helpful tips...ie, "Don't hoop for thirty minutes the first time out!"
On a separate note, I just added my Blog to Networked Blogs, an application that allows people to follow me through facebook. I've had several folks who have been unable to follow me through google followers, so I thought I would set this up as an alternative. Just click on the Follow Button under the Networked Blog Icon on the upper right side of this page to follow me through facebook. Thanks for the support!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
What the mirror tells me....
One of my favorite classes in college was a psychology class that I took my second year. There were several lessons that stuck with me, but one in particular that captured my attention was a discussion about body image. The professor asked for a student who didn't like the shape of their nose to volunteer for an experiment. He then proceeded to ask them to draw a life size picture of the profile of their face. At the same time the professor drew a picture of the profile of the student's face. He then hung up the two drawings, and asked the student to turn to the side so we could view his actual profile against the two drawings. The drawing by the professor was a fairly accurate rendering of the student's profile. The picture provided by the student, however, was much less accurate displaying a much larger nose than he really had. The professor went on to explain that we all have some degree of disconnect between how we perceive our bodies and how it actually appears.So this past week, I was trying to find an outfit to wear to a business luncheon, and was having a hard time finding a pair of pants that fit. In general my business clothes are less form fitting, so when I lost weight after my surgery most of them were too big. Over the last few months, though, I have gained back about half of the weight I lost post surgery and have reached the weight I have maintained for most of my adult life. It seemed to me the task should not be a challenge any longer. I had a few pants I had purchased at my curvier post menopause frame (about seven pounds heavier) that would probably still be too big, but the majority of my dressier pants should fit again. As I changed from one pair to the other without success, I realized that something about my body had to have changed since I last weighed this much.
I looked at myself in the mirror and stared at my reflection. I could not see a big change. I still had a belly roll. My hips and thighs seemed wigglier to me since I had added some weight back on. As I tried to reconcile the image I saw in the mirror with the person's whose pants were too big, I thought back to the lesson from my psychology class. Clearly my clothes were telling a different story than the one the mirror was telling me. The truth was the mirror was only reflecting what my head was projecting, and what the mirror projected were my insecurities. If I wanted to see beyond my flaws, I would have to learn to project a few successes too.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
I Love Saturdays!
I love Saturdays and waking up to a day stretched out ahead of me with endless possibilities. This morning I woke to a house full of young adults recounting their Friday night antics and preparing for a Birthday bash at our cousin's cabin in the mountains. There was frenzied activity as breakfast was served, bags were packed for the night and last minute arrangements were completed. After a hectic hour, they hit the road with Chuck in tow, so he could insure everything was working for their big night. Suddenly the house was quiet and the morning stretched ahead of me. What to do?
I was feeling a little sleepy as we all had played late into the night. The thought of laying back down seemed very enticing. Since Chelsey had come home for the summer, I rarely found myself alone in the house, and a peaceful nap sounded a little luxurious. I knew if I laid down, however, I would never make it to my work-out. While I had definitely danced for a large part of the evening before, I had not made it to the gym for my fourth work-out of the week. A part of me thought it might be OK to count the dancing in my weekly tally, but the little angel on my shoulder told me I was only cheating myself.
So instead of laying down, I threw on my work-out clothes and headed to the gym. It was definitely an indoor day and my cardio of choice today was the elliptical. I expected to struggle after the late night, but oddly enough I found myself picking up the pace. After ten minutes, I found myself working at the fastest pace I had ever hit before and feeling great. I kept waiting for my body to give out, but it kept surprising me and didn't. Twenty minutes into the routine and I was still working hard and strong. The rest of my work-out continued with the same success. I was able to keep up the increased pace for over two miles. I was able to increase my weights, and I was able to double my Ab routine sets. I finished feeling very pleased with myself, but frankly surprised.
Not only had I started my work-out tired from the night before, but my last work-out on Thursday (post Chuck's pace setting four miles walks) had been anything but successful. I had to cut the walk short, wasn't able to push myself through the weight routine and had to decrease the repetitions in my sets of Sit-ups. Here it was only two days later, and I managed to have the best work-out I had to date. I'm not sure I'll ever understand the change in my abilities from day to day, but I was thankful that today I felt the endorphins surging and the feeling of accomplishment. It was a great way to start my Saturday, and set the tone for the remainder of my day!
I was feeling a little sleepy as we all had played late into the night. The thought of laying back down seemed very enticing. Since Chelsey had come home for the summer, I rarely found myself alone in the house, and a peaceful nap sounded a little luxurious. I knew if I laid down, however, I would never make it to my work-out. While I had definitely danced for a large part of the evening before, I had not made it to the gym for my fourth work-out of the week. A part of me thought it might be OK to count the dancing in my weekly tally, but the little angel on my shoulder told me I was only cheating myself.
So instead of laying down, I threw on my work-out clothes and headed to the gym. It was definitely an indoor day and my cardio of choice today was the elliptical. I expected to struggle after the late night, but oddly enough I found myself picking up the pace. After ten minutes, I found myself working at the fastest pace I had ever hit before and feeling great. I kept waiting for my body to give out, but it kept surprising me and didn't. Twenty minutes into the routine and I was still working hard and strong. The rest of my work-out continued with the same success. I was able to keep up the increased pace for over two miles. I was able to increase my weights, and I was able to double my Ab routine sets. I finished feeling very pleased with myself, but frankly surprised.
Not only had I started my work-out tired from the night before, but my last work-out on Thursday (post Chuck's pace setting four miles walks) had been anything but successful. I had to cut the walk short, wasn't able to push myself through the weight routine and had to decrease the repetitions in my sets of Sit-ups. Here it was only two days later, and I managed to have the best work-out I had to date. I'm not sure I'll ever understand the change in my abilities from day to day, but I was thankful that today I felt the endorphins surging and the feeling of accomplishment. It was a great way to start my Saturday, and set the tone for the remainder of my day!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Hoop Dreams
I have never been very coordinated. I struggled to learn to ride a bike. I had constant skinned knees and bruises from tripping. I was the last person to be picked for team sports, and I couldn't make a hula hoop work. So when my friend came to visit tonight and shared with me her path to fitness through hula hooping, I wasn't just skeptical, I was sure there was no way that would work for me. I could never manage to keep the hoop spinning longer than ten seconds, and certainly not long enough to achieve any kind of physical benefit.
My friend had stumbled across an article about hooping several months ago and decided to give it a try. It seemed the perfect exercise for a Mother of two children under the age 5 who had limited windows of opportunities for working out. Instead of sitting and watching the kids at the park, she could use the time to multi-task and hoop while the kids played. She had been skeptical in the beginning as well, but it didn't take her long to pick it up. She was pleasantly surprised at how much she got out of it. Not only did it work her core, but it really got her heart pumping, and she saw direct results in weight loss. There were even DVDs, books and classes that taught hooping and the more advanced you got, the more muscles you could work simply using your hoop.
I was having a hard time reconciling what she was saying with the hula hooping I recalled as a child where I spent most of my time retrieving the hoop from the ground. I certainly couldn't imagine that I could achieve any kind of benefit, but I was intrigued none the less. That is when she offered to go get her hoop for me to try. She had a travel version that folded down into a convenient carrying size, and she had brought it along for me to try.
I was sure I would step into the hoop, pull it up to my waist and promptly send it sailing to the ground again! But what the heck, I'd give it a shot. The first thing I noticed when I pulled the hoop up over my hips was that it was heavier than a child's hoop. It also had a bigger diameter. I started the hoop spinning in a clockwise direction around my waist while swaying back and forth. The hoop responded and continued to circle around my waist. I was immediately excited. The hoop wasn't dropping to the ground, and I was actually managing to keep it above my waist. Surely any second now it would plummet below my knees! Somehow, though, the hoop kept spinning. I swayed a little faster, and my breathing started getting heavier. My heart started pumping harder, and it wasn't from the excitement. I was getting a work-out.
A few minutes later, the hoop finally dropped below my waist, and then quickly fell to my feet. I had seen the possibilities though. My friend showed me a few more tricks she had been working on, and then I found myself reaching for the hoop again. Could I do it again or had it simply been beginner's luck? I grabbed the hoop and started it spinning. Once again, I was able to keep the effort going. This time I stopped because I was getting tired. My mind started racing with ideas. This could be great for a work break or something to do on a rainy day at home.
So thank you Tonya for showing me that I am not as klutzy as I imagine myself to be and turning me on to something both fun and new. I have already ordered my hoop from www.hoopnotica.com Rock Hard Abs....Here I come!!!!!
My friend had stumbled across an article about hooping several months ago and decided to give it a try. It seemed the perfect exercise for a Mother of two children under the age 5 who had limited windows of opportunities for working out. Instead of sitting and watching the kids at the park, she could use the time to multi-task and hoop while the kids played. She had been skeptical in the beginning as well, but it didn't take her long to pick it up. She was pleasantly surprised at how much she got out of it. Not only did it work her core, but it really got her heart pumping, and she saw direct results in weight loss. There were even DVDs, books and classes that taught hooping and the more advanced you got, the more muscles you could work simply using your hoop.
I was having a hard time reconciling what she was saying with the hula hooping I recalled as a child where I spent most of my time retrieving the hoop from the ground. I certainly couldn't imagine that I could achieve any kind of benefit, but I was intrigued none the less. That is when she offered to go get her hoop for me to try. She had a travel version that folded down into a convenient carrying size, and she had brought it along for me to try.I was sure I would step into the hoop, pull it up to my waist and promptly send it sailing to the ground again! But what the heck, I'd give it a shot. The first thing I noticed when I pulled the hoop up over my hips was that it was heavier than a child's hoop. It also had a bigger diameter. I started the hoop spinning in a clockwise direction around my waist while swaying back and forth. The hoop responded and continued to circle around my waist. I was immediately excited. The hoop wasn't dropping to the ground, and I was actually managing to keep it above my waist. Surely any second now it would plummet below my knees! Somehow, though, the hoop kept spinning. I swayed a little faster, and my breathing started getting heavier. My heart started pumping harder, and it wasn't from the excitement. I was getting a work-out.
A few minutes later, the hoop finally dropped below my waist, and then quickly fell to my feet. I had seen the possibilities though. My friend showed me a few more tricks she had been working on, and then I found myself reaching for the hoop again. Could I do it again or had it simply been beginner's luck? I grabbed the hoop and started it spinning. Once again, I was able to keep the effort going. This time I stopped because I was getting tired. My mind started racing with ideas. This could be great for a work break or something to do on a rainy day at home.
So thank you Tonya for showing me that I am not as klutzy as I imagine myself to be and turning me on to something both fun and new. I have already ordered my hoop from www.hoopnotica.com Rock Hard Abs....Here I come!!!!!
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Rocking the Bright Orange Socks....
The storm had broken, and the sun was shining again. I had a good day at work, and I was ready for a better work-out. I reached into my drawer to grab some socks and a pair of Chelsey's neon orange footies caught my eye. Something came over me; I reached in, grabbed them and threw them on my feet. I wasn't sure exactly what drove the decision, but I felt like the socks reflected my mood. I was ready for a technicolor work-out.
Chuck was on his way home and ready to "set the pace" for me again. We agreed I would head to the gym first and hit the weights until he was able to join me for our walk. I started out strong. I pushed myself to add repetitions to my exercises. I finished my entire routine and added some extra leg exercises since Chuck was still not there. I finished up with my sets of Ab exercises and then headed out to wait for him to arrive. I didn't have long to wait, and we set out quickly down the walking path.
I had apparently inspired him to push me even harder after my last blog entry, and he took off at a brisker pace than the day before. He strategically complimented me after only a few short steps on how great I was doing at keeping up with him. Whenever I showed the slightest tendency to lag behind he plied me with another compliment, and like Pavlov's dog I would pick up the pace again.
Not quite halfway through the walk, I realized that I was going to have to take a pit stop along the way. I had not planned well. Chuck pointed to the nearby woods with a laugh, but I wasn't that desperate, and told him I'd wait for the 7-11 that was just a little farther down the path. I raced ahead and hit the ladies room while Chuck plopped himself on the sidewalk waiting for my return. He may have been sitting, but I decided I could multi-function and continue the work-out even as I made my pitstop. Instead of slowing things down by papering the toilet seat, I would simply hover and work my legs out a little further in the process.
I was in and out in a flash, and we were back on our path. Chuck continued pushing us down the road, and I continued to keep pace though my legs were starting to feel the effects of the increased pace and added exercises. We were three quarters of the way through the walk when Chuck glanced down and noticed my socks. "Nice socks," he remarked with a little laugh. "What possessed you to wear those?"
"I knew they would inspire me to work harder," I replied, and I was right. I was rocking the orange socks, and I was rocking my work-out. A few minutes later, however, I started slowing down. Chuck reached for my hand to pull me along a little faster, but I had the wisdom to tell him I needed to back off just a little. I was starting to feel a pull in my back that wasn't simply the ache of a great work-out, but a potential harbinger of another problem. My heart was still feeling neon orange, but my body was not cooperating any longer. I struggled through the last hundred feet and made it back to the car without causing any additional problems. I glanced down at my socks and smiled. They had done their job for the day, perhaps a little too well, but so had I.
Chuck was on his way home and ready to "set the pace" for me again. We agreed I would head to the gym first and hit the weights until he was able to join me for our walk. I started out strong. I pushed myself to add repetitions to my exercises. I finished my entire routine and added some extra leg exercises since Chuck was still not there. I finished up with my sets of Ab exercises and then headed out to wait for him to arrive. I didn't have long to wait, and we set out quickly down the walking path.
I had apparently inspired him to push me even harder after my last blog entry, and he took off at a brisker pace than the day before. He strategically complimented me after only a few short steps on how great I was doing at keeping up with him. Whenever I showed the slightest tendency to lag behind he plied me with another compliment, and like Pavlov's dog I would pick up the pace again.
Not quite halfway through the walk, I realized that I was going to have to take a pit stop along the way. I had not planned well. Chuck pointed to the nearby woods with a laugh, but I wasn't that desperate, and told him I'd wait for the 7-11 that was just a little farther down the path. I raced ahead and hit the ladies room while Chuck plopped himself on the sidewalk waiting for my return. He may have been sitting, but I decided I could multi-function and continue the work-out even as I made my pitstop. Instead of slowing things down by papering the toilet seat, I would simply hover and work my legs out a little further in the process.
I was in and out in a flash, and we were back on our path. Chuck continued pushing us down the road, and I continued to keep pace though my legs were starting to feel the effects of the increased pace and added exercises. We were three quarters of the way through the walk when Chuck glanced down and noticed my socks. "Nice socks," he remarked with a little laugh. "What possessed you to wear those?"
My Pace Setter...
Yesterday was everything that one would expect from a Monday. Hectic, filled with fires waiting to be doused and a troublesome prelude to the week ahead. By the time I headed home for the day, my mood was stormy at best, but I was trying my hardest not to let the day's events spoil my evening. I was almost an hour behind my normal schedule and debating whether or not I should pass on my work-out to get dinner together. I decided to roll the dice and ask my husband to join me. If he said yes, I would go. If he said no, I would pass.
I suspect he sensed the turmoil inside me though he implied he simply wanted to burn off his own frustrations, but a quick fifteen minutes later we were in the car heading to the gym. We had changed our routine recently and weather permitting, we had taken to walking outside in the nearby neighborhood where our gym was located followed by weights and Ab exercises. Today was definitely outside weather, so after parking the car and securing our phones and personal items, we started down the walking path at a brisk pace.
We were not long into the walk when Chuck casually mentioned that he noticed I had not written in my blog for several days. I made the usual excuses. "Chelsey was home. I was busy catching up at work. With everything going on, something had to give. At least, I pointed out, I wasn't letting go of my exercise routine, I just wasn't writing about it." And then he untapped the storm inside. "You need to write more. You are happier when you are writing."
The next five minutes weren't so pretty. Instead of hearing what he was saying, I went to that defensive place I had promised myself to leave behind. Chuck rather patiently let me go there while he listened. His only real response was to increase the pace of our walk. After venting my frustration, we continued ahead in silence. At this point I was struggling to maintain my composure. The emotions from the last several weeks were in my throat and I was fighting to keep the tears from falling. I tried to concentrate on just keeping up with Chuck's quickening pace, but as hard as I was trying to push all the feelings back down, I just couldn't seem to manage it.
When I began my blog, I had found it both easy and rewarding to write, but this last month I was clearly struggling to find my voice. Was I happier because I was writing or had I been writing because I was happier? What came first, the chicken or the egg? I knew the truth lied somewhere between the two ideas, but my emotions were clouding my vision. As I pondered the problem while still trying to keep pace with my husband, he nudged me just a little further. "It's a blog. Your supposed to write about the good and the bad, the successes and the failures, the positive and the negative. Not every message has to be a happy one. Just write." As I stopped and started to protest, he gently nudged me forward, "Let's keep moving. You'll feel better when we get to the end of the walk."
Somewhere during the remainder of our four mile walk it hit me. I started this quest in part to force myself to look at my actions more truthfully, but by avoiding the pen, I had found a way to hide from the storm of feelings I had been trying to contain. Chuck had been right. I needed to write in my blog. Not simply because it brought me joy, but because it held me accountable to myself. I had been doing a fair job of putting on a face these past few weeks, but I was also hiding from a wellspring of sadness. It was time to acknowledge the sadness, find a way to let it go and move forward. It was the end of our walk, and my legs were feeling it. Chuck had set a pace that left me sore, but signaled a good work-out. And while I hesitate to tell him too often that he is right, I did feel better at the end.
I suspect he sensed the turmoil inside me though he implied he simply wanted to burn off his own frustrations, but a quick fifteen minutes later we were in the car heading to the gym. We had changed our routine recently and weather permitting, we had taken to walking outside in the nearby neighborhood where our gym was located followed by weights and Ab exercises. Today was definitely outside weather, so after parking the car and securing our phones and personal items, we started down the walking path at a brisk pace.
We were not long into the walk when Chuck casually mentioned that he noticed I had not written in my blog for several days. I made the usual excuses. "Chelsey was home. I was busy catching up at work. With everything going on, something had to give. At least, I pointed out, I wasn't letting go of my exercise routine, I just wasn't writing about it." And then he untapped the storm inside. "You need to write more. You are happier when you are writing."
The next five minutes weren't so pretty. Instead of hearing what he was saying, I went to that defensive place I had promised myself to leave behind. Chuck rather patiently let me go there while he listened. His only real response was to increase the pace of our walk. After venting my frustration, we continued ahead in silence. At this point I was struggling to maintain my composure. The emotions from the last several weeks were in my throat and I was fighting to keep the tears from falling. I tried to concentrate on just keeping up with Chuck's quickening pace, but as hard as I was trying to push all the feelings back down, I just couldn't seem to manage it.
When I began my blog, I had found it both easy and rewarding to write, but this last month I was clearly struggling to find my voice. Was I happier because I was writing or had I been writing because I was happier? What came first, the chicken or the egg? I knew the truth lied somewhere between the two ideas, but my emotions were clouding my vision. As I pondered the problem while still trying to keep pace with my husband, he nudged me just a little further. "It's a blog. Your supposed to write about the good and the bad, the successes and the failures, the positive and the negative. Not every message has to be a happy one. Just write." As I stopped and started to protest, he gently nudged me forward, "Let's keep moving. You'll feel better when we get to the end of the walk."
Somewhere during the remainder of our four mile walk it hit me. I started this quest in part to force myself to look at my actions more truthfully, but by avoiding the pen, I had found a way to hide from the storm of feelings I had been trying to contain. Chuck had been right. I needed to write in my blog. Not simply because it brought me joy, but because it held me accountable to myself. I had been doing a fair job of putting on a face these past few weeks, but I was also hiding from a wellspring of sadness. It was time to acknowledge the sadness, find a way to let it go and move forward. It was the end of our walk, and my legs were feeling it. Chuck had set a pace that left me sore, but signaled a good work-out. And while I hesitate to tell him too often that he is right, I did feel better at the end.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Learning to take time for myself....
May's goals........Work-out four times a week, Re-focus my eating habits on healthier selections, write more.
So it is May 5th, and I have not managed to set my goals for the month. The truth of the matter is I did not achieve April's goals. I was feeling a little discouraged and a little ashamed. The thought of having to admit this to my supportive village has been weighing on me. But I woke up this morning and decided to cut myself a break. I didn't quit. In my past life, the last month would have been a derailment that lasted for months or longer, and while it did derail my short term goals, I still kept sight of my long term goal. I kept up a fairly regular routine of engaging in some form of physical activity, I just didn't make my five work-outs every week. When I arrived in Florida only to realize I had left my running shoes at home, I actually went out and bought new ones instead of grabbing hold of an easy excuse for not working out, and I didn't completely let go of my healthier eating habits though I did slide backwards a bit.
Despite the fact I didn't quit, I have to acknowledge the fact that I did loose focus. In February and March, as I struggled through so many firsts, I found that my writing and efforts fed off each other. I was constantly looking at my world through a new set of glasses. From my work-outs to my work-day, I was re-examining my life and committing to finding ways to improve on the status quo. In this past month, however, I've been focusing outside of myself, so much of the introspection that had been driving me was put on hold.
This month I need to find a way to both fuel my introspection and reinvigorate my quest while still dealing with some of the personal issues that have caused me to look elsewhere. The truth of the matter is there will always be points in my life that will require a shift in focus. In the past, when these have occurred, I've allowed my other roles to take priority... Mom, Wife, Working Woman. If I didn't have time to work-out, I told myself it was because "I was too busy fulfilling all of my roles" or "I was too tired from fulfilling all of my roles." My challenge if I want to change the old patterns is finding away to be a little selfish, so I can stay true to my journey and find the time and energy I need to keep going in spite of the hurdles in front of me. I'm still busy and still tired, but I'm committed to learning to make time for myself this go round.
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| Today's healthier lunch choice! |
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Wind Blown
I decided to walk outside and take advantage of the warm weather before it turned cold and rainy again. While I was away these past two weeks, everything had taken bloom. The azaleas had blossomed, the tulips had sprung to life and the grass had hit its spring growth spurt. It was the time of year that my neighborhood shines and would provide a peaceful backdrop for an evening walk... or so I thought.
What I didn't count on was the wind. Apparently it was the harbinger of the front coming in, and so while the backdrop was still beautiful, I found myself fighting the gusts as I tried to push myself at a brisk pace through the neighborhood. Had I been walking the flat trails I used in Florida, I'm sure the wind wouldn't have been as much of a challenge, but I managed to choose a route that was full of hills, and I found myself struggling against the wind as I pushed myself up the multiple inclines.
To add to my experience, it seemed that everyone else was also trying to take advantage of the weather. Many of my neighbors were out trying to get their lawns cut before the rain set in. Normally I probably wouldn't even notice this, but the wind was snatching the cuttings and blowing them through the air. My eyes started tearing, my nose started running and to add insult to injury, I found myself beset by sneezing fits.Certainly this wasn't how I had pictured my walk playing out, but despite the wind, hills and sneezing fits, I managed to keep up a good pace. So while the evening walk didn't turn out quite as peaceful as I had imagined when I first set out, I still was able to get a good work-out. As I turned the final corner to my home, it occurred to me that the last few weeks had been something like that evenings walk, not what I expected, not particularly pleasant, but a positive experience none the less.
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