My Life, My Diet, My Body
I don't want to let myself be unhealthy any longer, and I feel like I'm taking a step in the right direction towards not treating my body like a disposable resource. With my dad's cancer diagnoses, likely due, somewhat, to a lifetime of being obese, I'm even more determined to get my genetically unathletic behind into shape.
Quite frankly, I'm scared of what will happen if I don't. And if that's not motivation enough, I'd like to look good in a bikini before I'm 30... and time is running out. I have NEVER looked good in a bikini, so that would be huge for me. But mostly it's for the health.
I have such an unhealthy relationship with food, which is my first problem, and probably my biggest problem. Growing up, we kept lots of junk food in the house. I loved to go food shopping with my mom because that meant I could throw in random snacks into her cart, which she'd buy and I'd subsequently eat. There was never any talk of calories, or eating too much fat.
What there was talk of... lots of talk of... was my big stomach. Both of my parents commented about it ALL THE TIME. I can't remember the first time my mom made a comment about my pot belly, but I was pretty young. Anytime I tried on something tight she'd say I couldn't get it because of my stomach.
My reward each week was getting McDonalds. It started out as happy meals and quickly grew into ordering two cheeseburgers and a supersized coke and fries. Knowing now how many calories that is, I can't believe my parents let me eat that once a week or more.
Not only did they let me eat that, but they continued to comment on my size. There was absolutely no relationship about fitness or what I was eating versus my slight obesity. I just figured it was me... I wasn't meant to be a pretty, slim girl.
And it really hurt me. I guess I gave up. In 7th grade I became a vegetarian which at least stopped the McDonalds binges. While I think the vegetarian thing through off my nutrition and messed with my hormones, ultimately it may have also kept me from currently looking like I belong on the biggest loser.
Both of my parents have weight issues. My dad has always been huge since I can remember. While he went through lighter periods, he was always well overweight, developing diabetes and now cancer. My mom, on the other hand, got larger as she aged. She was slim when she was a teenager but put on weight through the years. And all the insecurity both my parents felt towards their own bodies was taken out on me. Not on purpose, not to hurt me, but it made me ashamed of my body, sure that I'd never be beautiful, still not connecting the way I was eating to how I looked. I just didn't believe it could make a difference.
Even now, the first thing my dad says to me when I go home is "you look ... " - last time I was home I had put on some weight and he gave a disapproving look and said you need to lose some weight. This time around he started mentioning diet and exercise, things he's thinking about more along with his sickness. However, this was not something he talked to me about when he took me to McDonalds as a child, or when the family went out to dinner and I'd order my own dessert each time. I don't know where a kid is supposed to learn about healthy eating, but the schools don't really teach it. It's pretty much up to your parents. And if your parents don't eat healthy, how can you learn?
I did get some exercise as a kid. Not much. But on occasion I took dance classes. I hated the cardio aspect of them. Gym in school was nightmare. I was the slowest person on the mile. I was the worst at just about everything in gym. I didn't like the competitive aspect because I couldn't win. I didn't understand that feeling your heart beat fast was a good thing.
In the summers all through my childhood I did swim team. I had to train a few days a week at the pool in the morning, and then raced on the weekends. I don't know if I got healthier during July each year because - even though I was on a really good exercise routine - it only lasted one month and then stopped for 11. I always wondered how the other swimmers could swim so fast without feeling like their heart would burst and they would sink. I thought something was wrong with me. (Now, I realize, those other swimmers probably maintained a cardio routine throughout the year so it wasn't all new for the summer months.)
Well, now I'm taking matters into my own hands. But I'm still confused, and scared, and frustrated. I am taking two exercise classes at the community college next to my house - boot camp and fitness training...
Boot camp is three days a week, 6:30-7:30 am. It isn't as scary as it sounds, but it's not a piece of cake either. The walk to the fitness center is actually a pain in the butt, it's a 15 minute walk up hill. Most people drive there but it's next to my apartment so I walk it. Each day in class we do something a little different. One day a week we go for a "long" run... about 4 miles (that's tomorrow, oh boy). The other days we usually do a mix of cardio and weights with aerobics. The teacher likes to have us do these things call "add ons" where we do one set of something (like lunges with weights) and then go outside, down a flight of steps, sometimes down a giant ramp to the baseball field, sometimes just around the pavement that's just down the one flight of stairs, around a lap (1/8 mile), back up to do the same first exercise (the lunges, for example) and then add on another exercise. And we do that, adding on one new exercise each time we get back. I get so far behind everyone else, but the good thing about that exercise is that I always see what I'm supposed to add on, because everyone else is repeating the full set with the latest add on.
In class the other day I felt awful. Part of it was that I slept about 3 hours and was getting over a cold. But it was really hard. I got back from one lap, prepping to do step ups on the bleachers, and my head just started burning. Like, it felt as if my frontal lobe had caught fire and if I stayed still it got warmer, really hot, and if I moved I felt dizzy like I was going to pass out. Meanwhile, the teacher was saying "don't stop moving" and I tried my best to just get through it... thinking of how the contestants must feel on The Biggest Loser (which I'm watching right now.)
Then, on Tues and Thurs I take circuit training, which I roped Dan into. It's not as hard of a class compared to boot camp. It's pretty much a personal trainer for dan and I because no one else signed up for the class. I thought it would just be muscle work, but it's actually more cardio. Which is good, given how much muscle work I've been getting in boot camp. So in circuit training, we do a 3 minute cardio workout on the machines, then go outside and do some running warm ups (the teacher is the school's cross country coach). Then we go inside and do some weight machines, with 30 seconds each and 30 seconds rest in between. I don't think I get much muscle work from that, though occasionally I'll feel a sore muscle or two. Today I think I got my back and shoulders on the pull up machine.
I "enjoy" weight exercises because I feel the result. Even though soreness is painful, I feel like I've accomplished something with that pain. I don't feel that with the cardio. The cardio, sometimes, just feels like a waste. I don't think I push myself hard enough to get a lot out of it, yet when I try to push myself I feel like I'm going to die. Or maybe I'm SUPPOSED to feel like I'm going to die, I don't know, but no one else seems to look like they're going to fall over because their heart is beating a million miles an hour. Or, like, when at the end of the long run we have to walk up about a half mile to the fitness center, and my legs are trembling under me, muscles sore, heart still beating, barely being able to move. Last time, I finished 45 minutes after the class ended. At least I finished. We walked down to the next exit on the highway (on a side road) and back. The others in the class who are as out of shape as I am always cheat. They didn't go all the way down to the other exit, they turned around before getting there. So of course, I was all alone, walking, because I couldn't move enough to run, still out of breath, at least enjoying the fresh air, the rural scenery, knowing that it was 7am and that I was already getting way more exercise than I would have gotten a month ago, and how I'd still get home before I would normally wake up.
Still, I wish I'd see... or feel results. Maybe it's too soon. I've never consistently worked out 5 days a week. Even if it's just 30 minutes of serious working out per day, given how many minutes I'm resting because I can't move, that's till good, right? But... I'm an all or nothing type person, and I feel like it's not good enough. I don't trust it will do anything.
And then there's the food. It's so hard to eat healthy. I'm trying. Dan is supportive, luckily. He is trying to get in shape too. We try to support each other. But we love to go out to eat. It's one of my favorite things to do with him. It's not good for our waists or our wallets, so we've definitely gone out to eat a lot less lately.
But i haven't lost any weight yet. In fact, I think I've gained 3 pounds. How? I don't know. It's really disheartening. People in the bay area are SO HEALTHY. They're all outdoorsy and run and bike and ski and such. Me... I bounce around a bit.
Nowadays I look in the mirror and I don't like what I see. My face is wide, wider than it needs to be, my arms are flabby, my stomach is large, as always, but getting bigger by the year, my hips and thighs - which didn't bother me when I was younger - now seem huge. Part of it is just getting older... seeing a 25 year old in the mirror. Some of it is just crazy being a girl and looking in a mirror. A lot of it is seeing the truth.
I just need to change my life for good. Can I? Only time will tell.
Quite frankly, I'm scared of what will happen if I don't. And if that's not motivation enough, I'd like to look good in a bikini before I'm 30... and time is running out. I have NEVER looked good in a bikini, so that would be huge for me. But mostly it's for the health.
I have such an unhealthy relationship with food, which is my first problem, and probably my biggest problem. Growing up, we kept lots of junk food in the house. I loved to go food shopping with my mom because that meant I could throw in random snacks into her cart, which she'd buy and I'd subsequently eat. There was never any talk of calories, or eating too much fat.
What there was talk of... lots of talk of... was my big stomach. Both of my parents commented about it ALL THE TIME. I can't remember the first time my mom made a comment about my pot belly, but I was pretty young. Anytime I tried on something tight she'd say I couldn't get it because of my stomach.
My reward each week was getting McDonalds. It started out as happy meals and quickly grew into ordering two cheeseburgers and a supersized coke and fries. Knowing now how many calories that is, I can't believe my parents let me eat that once a week or more.
Not only did they let me eat that, but they continued to comment on my size. There was absolutely no relationship about fitness or what I was eating versus my slight obesity. I just figured it was me... I wasn't meant to be a pretty, slim girl.
And it really hurt me. I guess I gave up. In 7th grade I became a vegetarian which at least stopped the McDonalds binges. While I think the vegetarian thing through off my nutrition and messed with my hormones, ultimately it may have also kept me from currently looking like I belong on the biggest loser.
Both of my parents have weight issues. My dad has always been huge since I can remember. While he went through lighter periods, he was always well overweight, developing diabetes and now cancer. My mom, on the other hand, got larger as she aged. She was slim when she was a teenager but put on weight through the years. And all the insecurity both my parents felt towards their own bodies was taken out on me. Not on purpose, not to hurt me, but it made me ashamed of my body, sure that I'd never be beautiful, still not connecting the way I was eating to how I looked. I just didn't believe it could make a difference.
Even now, the first thing my dad says to me when I go home is "you look ... " - last time I was home I had put on some weight and he gave a disapproving look and said you need to lose some weight. This time around he started mentioning diet and exercise, things he's thinking about more along with his sickness. However, this was not something he talked to me about when he took me to McDonalds as a child, or when the family went out to dinner and I'd order my own dessert each time. I don't know where a kid is supposed to learn about healthy eating, but the schools don't really teach it. It's pretty much up to your parents. And if your parents don't eat healthy, how can you learn?
I did get some exercise as a kid. Not much. But on occasion I took dance classes. I hated the cardio aspect of them. Gym in school was nightmare. I was the slowest person on the mile. I was the worst at just about everything in gym. I didn't like the competitive aspect because I couldn't win. I didn't understand that feeling your heart beat fast was a good thing.
In the summers all through my childhood I did swim team. I had to train a few days a week at the pool in the morning, and then raced on the weekends. I don't know if I got healthier during July each year because - even though I was on a really good exercise routine - it only lasted one month and then stopped for 11. I always wondered how the other swimmers could swim so fast without feeling like their heart would burst and they would sink. I thought something was wrong with me. (Now, I realize, those other swimmers probably maintained a cardio routine throughout the year so it wasn't all new for the summer months.)
Well, now I'm taking matters into my own hands. But I'm still confused, and scared, and frustrated. I am taking two exercise classes at the community college next to my house - boot camp and fitness training...
Boot camp is three days a week, 6:30-7:30 am. It isn't as scary as it sounds, but it's not a piece of cake either. The walk to the fitness center is actually a pain in the butt, it's a 15 minute walk up hill. Most people drive there but it's next to my apartment so I walk it. Each day in class we do something a little different. One day a week we go for a "long" run... about 4 miles (that's tomorrow, oh boy). The other days we usually do a mix of cardio and weights with aerobics. The teacher likes to have us do these things call "add ons" where we do one set of something (like lunges with weights) and then go outside, down a flight of steps, sometimes down a giant ramp to the baseball field, sometimes just around the pavement that's just down the one flight of stairs, around a lap (1/8 mile), back up to do the same first exercise (the lunges, for example) and then add on another exercise. And we do that, adding on one new exercise each time we get back. I get so far behind everyone else, but the good thing about that exercise is that I always see what I'm supposed to add on, because everyone else is repeating the full set with the latest add on.
In class the other day I felt awful. Part of it was that I slept about 3 hours and was getting over a cold. But it was really hard. I got back from one lap, prepping to do step ups on the bleachers, and my head just started burning. Like, it felt as if my frontal lobe had caught fire and if I stayed still it got warmer, really hot, and if I moved I felt dizzy like I was going to pass out. Meanwhile, the teacher was saying "don't stop moving" and I tried my best to just get through it... thinking of how the contestants must feel on The Biggest Loser (which I'm watching right now.)
Then, on Tues and Thurs I take circuit training, which I roped Dan into. It's not as hard of a class compared to boot camp. It's pretty much a personal trainer for dan and I because no one else signed up for the class. I thought it would just be muscle work, but it's actually more cardio. Which is good, given how much muscle work I've been getting in boot camp. So in circuit training, we do a 3 minute cardio workout on the machines, then go outside and do some running warm ups (the teacher is the school's cross country coach). Then we go inside and do some weight machines, with 30 seconds each and 30 seconds rest in between. I don't think I get much muscle work from that, though occasionally I'll feel a sore muscle or two. Today I think I got my back and shoulders on the pull up machine.
I "enjoy" weight exercises because I feel the result. Even though soreness is painful, I feel like I've accomplished something with that pain. I don't feel that with the cardio. The cardio, sometimes, just feels like a waste. I don't think I push myself hard enough to get a lot out of it, yet when I try to push myself I feel like I'm going to die. Or maybe I'm SUPPOSED to feel like I'm going to die, I don't know, but no one else seems to look like they're going to fall over because their heart is beating a million miles an hour. Or, like, when at the end of the long run we have to walk up about a half mile to the fitness center, and my legs are trembling under me, muscles sore, heart still beating, barely being able to move. Last time, I finished 45 minutes after the class ended. At least I finished. We walked down to the next exit on the highway (on a side road) and back. The others in the class who are as out of shape as I am always cheat. They didn't go all the way down to the other exit, they turned around before getting there. So of course, I was all alone, walking, because I couldn't move enough to run, still out of breath, at least enjoying the fresh air, the rural scenery, knowing that it was 7am and that I was already getting way more exercise than I would have gotten a month ago, and how I'd still get home before I would normally wake up.
Still, I wish I'd see... or feel results. Maybe it's too soon. I've never consistently worked out 5 days a week. Even if it's just 30 minutes of serious working out per day, given how many minutes I'm resting because I can't move, that's till good, right? But... I'm an all or nothing type person, and I feel like it's not good enough. I don't trust it will do anything.
And then there's the food. It's so hard to eat healthy. I'm trying. Dan is supportive, luckily. He is trying to get in shape too. We try to support each other. But we love to go out to eat. It's one of my favorite things to do with him. It's not good for our waists or our wallets, so we've definitely gone out to eat a lot less lately.
But i haven't lost any weight yet. In fact, I think I've gained 3 pounds. How? I don't know. It's really disheartening. People in the bay area are SO HEALTHY. They're all outdoorsy and run and bike and ski and such. Me... I bounce around a bit.
Nowadays I look in the mirror and I don't like what I see. My face is wide, wider than it needs to be, my arms are flabby, my stomach is large, as always, but getting bigger by the year, my hips and thighs - which didn't bother me when I was younger - now seem huge. Part of it is just getting older... seeing a 25 year old in the mirror. Some of it is just crazy being a girl and looking in a mirror. A lot of it is seeing the truth.
I just need to change my life for good. Can I? Only time will tell.