Standing up for myself!

Recent studies have been quite clear: sitting on your ass can kill you. Not just a matter of if, either; the more you sit, the more you raise your risk of dropping dead from a whole host of issues. Even if you're active, and hit the gym regularly, you undo all your hard work by sitting on your bum for 8+ hours a day.

I'm the world's worst about this.  I sit so much my butt starts to hurt, and my back aches.

When I started digging around on the internet for options, I learned much to my horror that entry level standing desks start at $400, and if you want something adjustable, you're going to be shelling out at least $800, and good models run in the thousands.

Errr, no. I'm a poor person. I can't afford that.

Then, I found a $22 Ikea standing desk hack. I started browsing the internet, finding inspiration, pinning my finds on Pinterest, but kept coming back to this. Not only is it cheap, but it would use my existing desk, a beloved desk that was owned by my father and is older than I am.

So, I bit the bullet, pulled out my credit card, and got what I needed. An Ikea lack table, some brackets, and a shelf.

Two days ago, my parts arrived. My dear husband did the dirty job of drilling things (I suck at that) and we put the whole shebang together quickly and easily. I also got an extra shelf and some Capita legs to increase the height of the monitor, but I figure out that in fact, I didn't need it! The height's perfect.

So, here's the end result.

This is the back view. From what I understand, red Scotch electrical tape also matches the color of the shelf perfectly, so I can tape that up and make it all pretty, since this part faces the rest of the house.

This is the view I see. Man, it occurs to me I need to clean my computer!

This entire blog was composed standing up at my new standing desk. I have to say,  I already feel more alert and together, although that could be the placebo effect. I'll report as time wears on. I'm planning on going to the flea market to find some bar stools or such for when I need to sit, since I'm sure I'll need to get used to standing for long periods of time again.

Some fun benefits. The package from Ikea also came with some green bubble wrap that you can't pop like the usual stuff. As it just so  happens, it's REALLY comfortable to stand on! So I'm using that as a mat until I can get a good, new anti-fatigue mat.

And Noodles has discovered that in fact, he can sit in my chair behind me, since I'm not using it. I suppose he approves of the standing desk!

So yay for another step towards good health!

I should have been at my goal weight by now

When I started on this journey, more than a year ago, by this point I thought I would be at my goal weight. I thought I'd shed off the pounds, be fit as a fiddle, and running around at my high school weight. I didn't figure I'd wear a bikini or anything, (pregnancy made sure that the trainwreck that is my stomach is something I'm not comfortable showing to the world) but I thought for sure I'd at least be in a size 10 by now.

But I'm not.

Why?

Well, it comes down to a few things. Life. Stress. Lack of self control. Having a husband who is profoundly overweight. I could point my fingers everywhere. What it comes down to is that I didn't do what needed to be done.

But I don't consider myself a failure. In fact, I think I'm pretty successful, for all I still have 30 lbs  or so to go.

I have kept the weight off. What I've lost, I've kept off. I haven't gone back to old habits.

Over the last year, I've learned to be healthy. I am not dieting or anything like that, and all those babysteps have added up to the point where I'm no longer afraid of maintenance. Heck, I maintained a steady weight for 6 months without even trying, when I fell off the wagon the last time.

So I'm losing slowly. I don't mind that. This has been a journey of education, of self-discovery. Of learning that I like being healthy, that I enjoy being fit. I'm fitter now than I have been since college, for all I'm still overweight. I'm not obese anymore. I'm proud of that progress. I'm wearing clothes that I look good in, I have self confidence, and most importantly, I haven't given up. I haven't done as so many people do and start, and then quit after a few months. I am not on the yoyo train, I haven't had to shed the same 10 lbs over and over again.

I think I'm doing well.

This feels like a turning point for me. I'm almost zen about it; I just feel philosophical. I've been fat for a long time. I've felt fat for a long time. I don't feel fat anymore. I still glare at my gut, and wish it would go away, but I don't frown or avoid the mirror, and I've caught myself checking out my butt a time or two.

So if it feels like your progress is achingly slow, look at the big picture. What matters isn't that you shed the weight to look good in a wedding dress, or for a reunion, or whatever special event you want to reach. It's not about fitting a bikini, or any of that. This is a journey of healthy living for life.

And suppose that I didn't lose a single other pound. I stayed right here, at 184, for the rest of my life.

You know what? I'm okay with that. It's not ideal, and I could be healthier, but as long as I stay active, eat right, I think I would be okay with whatever my weight is. As long as I can outrun my children, play with my dog, lift weights, and enjoy a very tasty slice of whole wheat toast with peanut butter... who cares what that stupid scale says?

I have to love me, no matter what my weight. What if I reach my goal weight, but I'm not happy with my body? It happens all the time. People somehow link a certain scale number with happiness, and they reach it, and discover that happiness doesn't magically fall from the sky.

To be successful in this journey, I think you have to do more than just lose weight. I think you have to work on the inside. Focus on that brain. If your brain isn't ready and able to cope with the journey, you won't make it to the end. And even if you do, you won't stay there. I think the reason so many people gain the weight back is because they never go their mind together.

So think about it. What can you do to get your brain in order? How can you change your mindset to be less about the scale?

Photo courtesy of ddddaniel.

When did I start eating low-carb?

Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about low-carb diets. I don't like them, I don't support them, and while I know that they work for some people, they're not a good choice for me. I really don't feel like people need to eliminate entire food groups from their diet to succeed.

You see, I LIKE carbs. I love pasta. I adore pizza. I really do love it!

But over the past year or so, I've been making healthier choices, and have started choosing complex carbs over simple carbs. I eat a lot more veggies. Instead of pasta four times a week, I might have it one. I skip my morning breakfast biscuits more often than not, now.

I have been noticing on my nutrition reports, though, that I'm usually under the minimum ranges for carbs, and I'm not sure how that happened. (Click to expand.)

The green range is where I'm supposed to be.

Here's my graph from the first couple of months I used Sparkpeople. (very low points are likely days I didn't track accurately.)

Now, I don't really see this as a problem; the carbs I do get are high-quality. I don't avoid bread, I eat whole wheat. I like my pasta, but I mix it half-and-half. I'm more likely to skip the tortillas, but I still enjoy a good fajita bowl.

It's just weird; I didn't choose this, it just happened. I don't stress about it, and believe me, on the days I work out, I make sure I get enough (you can tell what days those are, they're the ones in the green ranges.)

Strange how habits change.

Healthy living is about more than what you eat!

Before: It's easy to toss stuff aside to deal with later, right?

As I've walked this road and grown in this journey, I've taken a lot of deep, introspective looks into my life. Part of that has been dealing with my home. As some of you who have read my blog in the past know that I have issues with clutter. To put it bluntly, I live at the step just before you get on TV with a camera crew and a bunch of junk trucks at the house while you scream at people for touching your stuff.

So I'm trying to battle these tendencies, and beat back the clutter. Because taking care of my body in the *inside* isn't enough. I have to take care of it on the outside, too. My home is a reflection of my inner being, and I'm no longer depressed, carrying too much dead weight, and unmotivated to clean.

But I have years worth of clutter to work through. And I'm doing it alone; my girls are too small to be of much  help (though they enthusiastically try, they end up making more work.) My husband is too sick and wrapped up in his own issues to be of much use, either. I could scream and nag and yell, or I can just do it and hope he joins in.

So I've made it a goal each day to tackle one trouble spot in the house. There's a lot, so this'll take a while. ;) But I am making progress. Last week, I spent 3 1/2 hours doing dishes. We now have a clean kitchen!

Then, I tackled a shelf that was cluttered from a previous cleanup attempt elsewhere. It's now neat and tidy.

I organized the headboard of my bed, which was a rickety stack of half-read paperbacks, into a neat and organized shelf uncluttered with random junk.

I also attacked a box of clothes that had sat untouched for months... Everything in it went into a drawer or a donation bag.

Today I got a wild hair... I was feeling really motivated, so I folded all the laundry my husband washed and didn't fold. Then, I cleaned up the pile in the hallway by his desk that was creeping along the floor and becoming a hazard. Finally, I called my husband and asked if he minded me cleaning up his desk.

He gave me the green light, and I did.

So, a full bag of donation clothes, three trashbags, and a lot of 409 later, the  hall spot is clean so the girls can hang up their book bags and coats without leaning over junk, and he actually HAS a desk, instead of a teetering pile of papers. I didn't mind helping him with that, since it contained a lot of my stuff from before I got the dining room cleared out and set up a work station.

This is also my way of trying to help his recovery. You see, the clutter in our home is constant stress and cognitive dissonance. It triggers unhealthy reactions in both of us. Anger, binging, even drinking (in his case.) I can't tell you how often I've thrown a temper tantrum over the clutter and then reached for something in the fridge to compensate.

You see, the same principles that have applied to my growth in healthy living can be applied in all aspects of my life. Baby steps! I can't clean this whole house at once... it's too much for one person, I can't afford a personal organizer, and it's not bad enough to end up on TV. ;) So, I take it in bite-sized chunks, the way I did when I started trying to lose weight.

We get SO wrapped up in all or nothing. We look at the sum-total of what we have to do, and we get discouraged. I've been there! You see, I've lost entire rooms to this clutter problem. I've stood there, looked around the house, and couldn't fathom how I'd ever do it. I've stared at my fat in the mirror naked and turned away, discouraged because I can't make it disappear, right now.

But you know something? I can focus on the next pound. I can pick up those socks over there. I can make it a habit to take something to the trash every time I get up from my desk. I can clear a 3 x 3 space in my home.

I've found that like clutter, clean spreads. If you make a nice, neat space, you're more likely to pick up the pile of papers beside it. This is the principle behind clean-living guru Flylady's program, too. You start with a shiny sink, and magically, the dishes tend to get done because you want to keep that sink shiny. Then you wipe the counter, because who wants a dirty counter next to a shiny sink? And well, you might as well wipe the stove too.

And the floors need mopping.

Which takes you to the dining room. Better empty that trash.

Healthy living is the same. What's the point of eating whole wheat spagetti if you're going to load it down with two pounds of cheese? (Guilty!) So you eat a little less cheese. You put a little less sugar in your coffee. You eat another vegetable or two instead of second helpings of fried chicken.

After: Days of cleanup and countless trash bags later.

And suddenly, you're 25 pounds lighter, your pants are loose enough you need to use a belt hole you've never used before, you can walk through your house without tripping, and you're going to bed with a smile on your face.

Am I done yet? Not by a long shot. I have a lot of growth ahead of me. A lot of weight loss. A lot of cleaning.

But I know I CAN do it, because I AM doing it.

Oh, and my husband? He's helping too. ;) He's started picking up things he finds here and there... and he's been helping with the dishes. And making salads for dinner.

We can do this. Together.

Diet is nice, but exercise?

So I've figured out one of the reasons I've struggled to lose weight lately.

It's exercise.

Now, to be clear, I have lost weight; I just tend to lose it, gain it, and back again. My diet is mostly in tune, but I have a tendency to eat high.

Why?

Because I'm simply not satiated on less. I will never be able to function on 1200-1500 calories. My current range is 1400-1700 or so. This suits me, for the most part, but without exercise, I have to eat at the bottom of the range to do more than just maintain (which is what I've done since my 3 lb loss. It has stayed off, though!)

The secret, for me, is exercise. With exercise, I can eat more. When I work out, I like the balls-to-the-wall classes, like kickboxing. The more I exercise, the more I can eat! I am pretty good at getting lots of protein, so I don't need massive quantities.

Exercise has more benefits than an increased calorie range, though.

When I exercise, my moods are SO much better. I'll ride the high from a tough class for at least a day, and just feel fantastic. I ache less, and my arthritis bothers me less.

I understand that not everyone can join a gym. Not everyone has to. Maybe your exercise of choice is a video, or even a walk. I don't really think the kind of exercise you do is nearly as important as enjoying the exercise you do.

One critical component of exercise is strength training; without it, your program is incomplete, and you're abandoning the most important thing you can do. Strength training boosts your metabolism, and helps you look and feel better in the skin you're in. I love to lift weights, although I do keep a set of resistance bands at home. Not to mention, if you're not strength training, as much as 25% of your weight loss can come from lean muscle... which *drops* your metabolism. To preserve it, you need to hit the weights! (Or body weight exercises, or resistance bands. You get the idea.)

The point is, while you can lose weight by diet alone... it's so much harder. Exercise provides more than just weight loss benefits... it has incalculable benefits inside and outside of your body.

Best of all? It gets you away from this computer. ;)

Changing my stress response

I'm not hungry... just bored!

One of the biggest challenges any overweight person must face is how to deal with stress. We all have stress; it's hardly a unique trait. How we respond to it, however, can make or break your journey to healthy living.

What I used to do was sneak around and eat. I'd make a trip to Burger King for the family, and eat an extra biscuit on the way home, and throw the wrapper in the trash on the way in. Or I'd sneak off to Waffle House for a 1200 calorie meal.

I'd throw myself into a double helping of spaghetti, or constantly stand in front of the refrigerator, desperately seeking something to take my mind off the stress. I like to think I'm a laid back person, but really what I am is a person who has trained herself to pretend there is no problem.

So over the last year or so, I've been trying to  adjust my stress response.  Instead of heading to the kitchen when I'm bored, I'll open a game of Bejeweled. If the tension in the house is too much, I'll try and go for a walk, instead.

If I DO turn to boredom or stress eating, I'm trying to make healthier choices, instead of just simple, heavy carbs. I haven't willingly eaten a chip in over a month. They just don't interest me anymore.

If I catch myself having trouble resisting a particularly tasty treat, I make less of it, or not have it so often. (I'm looking at you, tiny tasty ham sandwiches.)

Over time, this has added up to big changes.

This week, I resolved to STOP my late night snacking. That was what was sabotaging my efforts. I'd do so well all day, but then my husband would break out his crackers and cheese, or he'd make something I love, and bam, nom nom nom over my calorie range.

But the last two days, I've stopped doing that. If I DO have a snack, it's a very small one, like a slice of cheese or a string cheese stick. (What? I like cheese.)

But more importantly, when I do snack during the day, or make a meal, I've been trying to be healthier. That turkey stroganoff I made last night was just as good as my usual, but half the calories... just by substituting the meat.

I'm slowly trying to change my way of thinking. The last three weeks have been one of the most  hellishly stressful I've experienced in a very long time, but I have NOT turned to food for solace. Not only have I not gained weight like I usually do, I've lost.

The first time my husband was hospitalized,  I spend the time I had alone going to restaurants, dining on fried cheese sticks, wings, anything to make me feel better.

I don't know when that shift happened, but I like it.

I like it a lot.

Oh, and that 187 came back this morning. If it's still there tomorrow, I'm counting it, baby.

Photo courtesy of Buzzfarmers

Look ma, I haven't forgotten!

I wasn't going to blog today, because I didn't feel like I had anything to say, but I realized well, I do!

Today has been a pretty good day. I actually did an 8 minute interval training video (the one linked on the first day of the January Jumpstart fitness challenge) and it was fun! A lot more intense than I expected. I've been concerned about my ankle, and that's been holding off activity, but I haven't had much pain beyond when I sit on it (I sit indian style a lot) and such, so I figure it's time to start testing.

I couldn't do any jumping, so I modified things, but my heart rate was definitely up (should've worn my HRM!)

I managed to hit almost every nutritional goal today, too. I stayed in my calorie range (just barely over the minimum, actually) and hit all my nutritional targets on the nose. The only one I didn't get was sodium: I NEVER hit the sodium targets. I was much lower than normal (I average 4-5k, today was just over 3k) so I'll count that as a win.

I'm going to keep moving forward, babying my ankle, but I know I need to MOVE if it's going to get back where it was. It's been almost a month now! Don't worry, I'm not straining it, and I'm paying close attention.

Anyway, things are going well. I just need to keep exercising every day. I'm aiming for 10 minutes while my ankle's still not 100%. I'll build back up to 30 later!

Retraining the stress response

Today, my family careened headlong into another family crisis.

I found myself trying to turn to old standbys to deal with stress, and made a conscious effort to redirect that instinctive response. You see, what I tend to do when I'm stress is one of two things depending on my level of stress in a crisis situation.

1) Ignore my own needs to the extreme, including skipping meals and ignoring my body's need for sleep and food.

OR (and more commonly)

2) Head to the nearest fast food restaurant for some high-calorie comfort.

After the girls got out of school, I thought about treating them to pizza, t hen decided that I wanted to make some old comfort food at home... and make it healthier. So we did, and it satisfied them so much they didn't even ask for snacks after. Later that evening, we went to the hospital to take my husband some important things, and headed home.

As I drove back home from the hospital, I starting thinking, "We should drop by McDonald's. A happy meal would take the girls' minds off of this."

Then I realized... holy cow, is that the message I want to send my daughters?  That when you're feeling down, fries and a cheeseburger is the healthy response?

No. I don't. Even though I wanted, with all my being, to hit that drive through for some crappy, barely-qualifies-as-meat burgers, salty fries, and a tea, I made a very conscious decision to NOT stop there. For starters, we'd already had dinner, and it was past the girls' bedtime, so it was time to head home.

So I drove right by McDonald's.  I suppressed my urge to treat them to some Waffle House, too, as we drove by that. Instead, I redirected their tears with a funny story about the dog (who was with us, and his ears flapped in the breeze) flying. They were laughing, and soon I had them tucked in. Instead of a meal, I let them stay up a little later and watch some cartoons (normally a weekend-only treat at bedtime.)

I ate one piece of cheese and a cup of milk to settle my stomach and bring my calorie count up to my minimum, but that's the extent of it. I'm planning on going to boot camp in the morning to release some of this built up tension.

So will I maintain my willpower all week? I don't know. I'm taking this one moment at a time, one urge at a time, but I'm proud of my efforts so far. The last time this happened, I spent the whole time indulging in crap I didn't need. This time, I'm treating my body better, and setting a better example to my kids of how to deal with sadness and stress. And even if I fail, that's okay. This isn't about perfection. I have a lifetime of momentum to overcome. I can only do it one step at a time.

Photo courtesy of BrownGuacamole

Fifteen Cheerios

I counted them. 15 cheerios, floating around in my bowl.  I spooned them up about five at a time, and dropped them in the trash. Then, I poured the last 1/4 of a cup of milk or so down the drain, rinsed my bowl, and set it on the sink to be washed. 

Why? 

I measured my cereal this morning. 50 grams of cheerios, 4 oz of milk, and a cut up banana for good measure. It's a magic breakfast, one my mom used to make for me as a child, and it occured to me that it's the perfect post-workout breakfast. Plus, it just plain tastes good. 

Well, I ate my cereal, and then, at the end, with just a few lone cheerios floating around in my bowl, I realized something. 

I was full. 

Now, once upon a time, I'd have eaten those fifteen cheerios. I'd have turned the bowl up, and finished off the milk. Not because I was hungry, but because they were there. 

But now? I'm not a garbage can, and I shouldn't treat my body like it is. So what, it was just fifteen cheerios. That's literally not even enough to register on my food scale. I didn't *want* them! My body was telling me "Hey, I'm full, thanks!" So, I decided that I wasn't going to eat them. I put those fifteen cheerios in the trash... not my stomach. 

Sure, it wouldn't have made a difference calorie-wise. I'm not going to get fat eating fifteen cheerios and a fourth of a cup of milk. But that's not the point. I'm trying to reorder the way I think about food. Food is fuel. I LOVE food, don't get me wrong. I'm a TOTAL foodie... but when my body is telling me I'm done, I have to listen to it, because it's smarter than my brain is.  

So I do. This is a major thing for me. And let's suppose I did this every day for a year, eating those fifteen cheerios and the fourth of a cup of milk. How many bowls of cheerios would I have eaten without having to? 

I challenge you, my friends, to STOP cleaning your plate. Stop treating your body like a garbage disposal. Even if it's just a little, when you're done, you're DONE. Listen, and stop. Don't worry about the minuscule portions left over. Mom and grandma were wrong... cleaning your plate isn't something to be proud of! 

And moms, I know you. You've been known to finish off your kid's plates when they're done, just to keep that food from going to waste, haven't you? I have.  Well, stop it. Remember that your body is your temple, your only one, the thing you need to get from age 0 to your deathbed. You end up wasting the food anyway, because what does our body do with the food you eat that you don't need? That's right. Metabolizes it right into fat for storage. So instead of the trash can, it's on your hips now. 

Stop treating your body like a landfill. It's better than that. YOU are better than that. You deserve BETTER. 

Photo Courtesy lobstar28

Exercise makes my whole day better.

Getting to the gym for a workout sets me up for a successful day from right in the beginning.

It gets me up early so I'm available to do the things I need to do. I'm a night owl by nature, and am happiest staying up until 3 AM and sleeping until 11 AM.  This is not, however, conducive to productive daily living.  When I go to the gym, I'm back home by 10:30 at the latest, and ready to work. Often, I'm home earlier than that and get more done before folks at HQ are even awake (I'm on the east coast, and work for a company on the west coast.)

It makes me more likely to make better decisions later.

I eat better. I'm not going to come home flush from a workout and stuff myself with sugary cereal or junk food. I'm going to have a protein shake, or make myself some turkey sausage.  It also makes me more mindful of the things I put in my body so that I'm refueling properly.

I move more. I'm more likely to do something active AFTER a gym workout than before.  Today, I rode the half mile to the nearby Fred's on my bike, instead of driving.  No reason not to, and I was already awake and functional. Lately, I've been driving to the store.

I sleep better at night. When I'm active, I just plain sleep better. I sleep more quickly (normally I'm up for an hour or more trying to fall asleep) because I've used my body, and it has more need of the rest.

I hurt less. The less I move, the more I hurt. My back will start aching from poor posture, my joints start to hurt from the arthritis (I'm only 33.)   In short, exercise makes me just plain feel better.

I'm in a better mood. This means I yell at my kids less, they behave better, I snap at my husband less, and overall, this whole family is happier.

If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

I love to move. I love exercising. I love being active. I never want to stop!

Afraid of the bathing suit?

Are you afraid of your bathing suit? 

I think for the vast majority of us, our bathing suits are a major worry zone. It's a high-stress purchase, and many of us flat out refuse. 

Today, I went to the beach. And I want to tell you something I found interesting. Do you know how many perfect bodies I saw while I was out there? We were there from about 1:30 PM until 7:00. 

Zero. Zilch. Nada. There were a few who were slender-ish, but there were no perfect bodies, and in fact... almost everyone was overweight. Two pieces and all. Even those who were slender had bubble butts, or little pooches, or scars, or stretch marks, or any other number of flaws that appear on real, non-airbrushed bodies. 

It was refreshing. There was no need for me to be concerned about my pooch... because there were tons of people there as large or larger, and all that mattered was we were there with our friends and family, having fun. 

So don't be afraid of your suit. You're not some freak of nature, and you won't be the only imperfect one there. In fact, those perfect people? They're in the minority. As in... they don't exist. 

Not only do I feel stronger, I look stronger.

Part of my weight loss journey has been the discovery that I love to lift weights. It makes me feel so powerful; I don't bother with those stupid little 2 and 5 lb girlie weights (although I do own a single purple 5 lb hand weight, I don't use it) anymore, I lift as heavy I as I can!

It's paying off. Not only do I look better than I did (and honestly, though I've lost 21 lbs, thanks to the strength training, I look like I've lost more!) but I feel amazing.  I love the burn... my husband thinks I'm nuts, but I really do love that rolling burn that slides down your muscles after finishing a particularly tough set.

And it's starting to show. I mean REALLY show! Yes, my definition's a bit pillowy yet, but it's real definition... the fat's going away, and I'm starting to look powerful, not just feel it.

Wow. Thatsalotta freckles. ;)

I wear more sleeveless shirts now, because I'm PROUD of my arms!  I don't have to hide in enormous t-shirts anymore.

Do I still look pregnant? Not anymore. I haven't had anyone ask me when I was due in a while. I still have tummy fat... quite a bit of it. I'm not quite halfway to my goal weight. But having visible reminders of the fact that I AM doing something for my body, something GOOD? Helps. I'm not hanging my hat on the scale. This is a non-scale-victory, a NSV.  The NSVs are more important to me than what the scale says. If I look good in my skin, feel good, and have the confidence to be in public?

THAT is what matters.

Tonight, I'm going for a run. Not because I need to, but because I want to. I never thought I'd feel like actually running for fun, but I do tonight!