A forum for an overweight mom of one to chronicle my journey toward health, and the realization that it's so much better to be healthy than not. Might be a gripe or two, but hey, I'm only human.
So, I ran into a dilemma this weekend. We had a trip planned, and our two travel days were Friday and Monday--two out of the three days I run during the week. I had a choice: wait an entire week between runs, or take jogging stuff and do at least one run on vacation. So, surprising even to me, I took my workout clothes and actually went for a jog on vacation. And this is where I ran:
It's the lake at the Disneyland Paris theme park. Let me say that again: I RAN AT DISNEYLAND PARIS. Dare I say it ... have I become *GASP* a runner? I think when you make time to run when you're at a theme park in France, you can't avoid calling yourself a runner any longer. And that's what I have been doing: avoiding labeling myself as a runner LIKE THE PLAGUE. I think part of me is still terrified that I will fail at it somehow--stop running, or not be as good as I would like--but I also think part of me knew that if I call myself a runner, there's no turning back. It's something that you ARE, and something that is a part of you. And I guess I'm not afraid anymore to commit myself to that way of life. Yes, running is hard, but it really does make me feel good after I've finished.
So, I guess I should say ... JE SUIS UNE JOGGEUSE!
Got another walk in today ... Had to estimate the total distance because my phone couldn't pick up a steady GPS signal. I will never understand how that can happen when you're outside and not in a metal warehouse, but whatever. I think I got at least 1.5 miles in today. We'll call it good. Tomorrow's an off day (massage ... can't wait!) then Thursday I will probably skip as well, since I will have my three-year-old with me and being pushed in the stroller is somewhat akin to root canal surgery for her. So I'll be back in the saddle on Friday, sans Munchkin.
I plan to start the Ease Into 5K program on Monday. It's an eight-week program designed to slowly build your jogging up until, at the end of the program, you are jogging three miles consecutively. I'm a bit daunted by this, but I have a jogging partner--a friend who is willingly slowing her runs down to walk/jog with me--so hopefully that will push me to finish this program this time. I plan to do our base's Turkey Trot 5K around Thanksgiving, so while I won't be finished with the program by then, my goal is to be able to jog at least two of the three miles. Fingers crossed!
Okay, so I should have restarted this blog about five months ago. BIG changes in my life ... BIG!
First, you'll notice the name of the blog is different. I am no longer trying to lose weight in order to conceive. Obviously, the reasons are personal, but we just felt like it wasn't the right time for us. So, moving on ...
I have actually found a plan that is working like gangbusters. I have been on MediFast's Take Shape For Life plan now for almost five months, and I have lost a mind-blowing 57 pounds. Yes, you read that right: FIFTY-SEVEN. I can hardly believe it myself, until I get dressed in the morning and my "skinny" pants fall right off. I still have 43 to go until I reach my goal weight, but it seems like a much more attainable weight now that over half of it is gone.
I had been doing well with exercise as well, walking at least two miles about three times a week, and I had even been incorporating some jogging in as well. Then I got appendicitis. YEOWCH. I'm about three weeks post-op, though, so I'm planning on getting back on track (pun intended) tomorrow. Don't fret, though; I will be easing back into things.
So this is a formal "hi again" and a promise to try to update this thing more often. If you're still following me, thanks for hanging out for so long!
Disclaimer: I am in no way being compensated by MediFast for mentioning their programs on this blog. I just think they rock.
So, as I was walking today with my friend, we decided to take a different route than usual. This different route took us down a small, barely-two-lane road with no sidewalks. Normally, I'd be very concerned, but this road is hardly ever travelled; plus we could see cars coming with plenty of time to get over for them to pass. So I wasn't too concerned.
Of course, we hadn't been in the road for two minutes when a large moving-type truck came barrelling toward us. My friend had her little one in a jogging stroller, so she was able to get off into the grass. I, with my dinky little umbrella stroller, had to fight my way through the thick underbrush (which, of course, was the same thickness as what my friend so easily navigated). Once the truck passed, my friend was a little ahead, so I decided to jog up to meet her. I shuffled along, pain in every step. Definitely thought to myself, "This was a mistake. I'm obviously not physically ready to run."
Another car came through, and again I found myself just a few yards behind my friend. I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to jog up to her again. This time, though, I actually picked my knees up more as I ran. And lo and behold: it didn't hurt as badly. It still hurt, so I won't be running any marathons anytime soon, but I may have had a small epiphany there. It actually excited me to know that there was something I could do to my form to lessen the pain of running. It makes me want to work harder, just to get to the point of jogging a significant distance, in order to test this new form I've discovered.
(Of course, those of you who are active runners are probably rolling your eyes and snickering behind your hands at my realization of something so obvious. Well, to that I say: Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.)
I will say, however, that I'm a little concerned that the pain in my knees isn't getting any better. I mean, I'm not expecting them to be pain-free overnight, but I'm a little worried that I may have done irreparable damage to them by being so sedentary all that time. If I can't see any improvement in a couple of weeks, I may go to the doctor and make sure there isn't something else going on. I'll keep you updated!
The purpose of this blog is to be brutally honest in my quest to lose weight. I have decided that, while being grossly overweight has been oh-so-thrilling these past couple of years, it is now time to shed these extra five (or, actually, extra one hundred) pounds. Why, you may ask? It's simple.
I wanna baby. (Cue Raising Arizona.)
My husband and I are blessed with a beautiful, healthy little girl, who just turned one. I ever thought that I would want to have a baby; I have always been the "babies are great when you can give them back to their parents" kind of person. When my husband and I found out we were pregnant, I still wasn't sure if I was ready for kids. I mean, this was a HUGE change in our lives! Diapers! Spit-up! Smelling another human's butt on a regular basis! (Moms, you know what I mean.) But of course, that fateful moment came when I saw my baby for the first time, and even though it wasn't all fireworks and love-at-first-sight, I did realize that this was a very, VERY good thing. And this past year has been HARD but amazing.
So, lately I've been feelin' that itch. You know, the one that begins when you see a brand new baby out somewhere and ends with you babbling incoherently at the other mother (who is giving you a look usually saved for sidewalk mimes and tax collectors) about how sweet her baby is. I find myself picking up clothes in stores that are sized Newborn. I actually sit and pick out names, for crying out loud.
Yeah, people ... I've got it bad.
However, when I mentioned this to my husband, he wasn't as gung-ho as I thought he'd be. He said, "Well, I'm ready, but I'm not sure that you are." When I explained to him that, um, that's what this conversation was supposed to be about, he continued, "Well, I think we should wait until you get in shape. You're in worse shape now than when you got pregnant before, and I don't think your body can handle a pregnancy right now. I don't know what would happen."
Well, I never! ... Wait. Okay, the man has a point.
When I got pregnant almost two years ago, I weighed 200 pounds. On a 5' 5" frame, that's bad enough. But add to that the 60 pounds I gained while pregnant (of which I only lost 20), and you can see why my husband would be so concerned. I am in constant pain, whether it be my back, knees, ankles. My boobs are each bigger than my daughter's head, and that is no exaggeration, folks. I have never been this big in my entire life, but nothing has EVER motivated me to lose weight before. I don't know why, but even the thought of dying due to my obesity hasn't even nudged me off the couch. But the thought of having another little angel to hold, to nurture, to love and enjoy ... that's the catalyst that I needed to get off my lazy butt and do something about this problem.
So, since it's late here my little corner of the world, I will begin tomorrow. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I may not be ... but I will be excited about it. Because hey, this is the beginning of a new me: hopefully, the mother of two.
