Odds and Ends: I May be Odd, but it's Not the End

First things first, I wanted to say thank you so much for all the encouraging and kind comments left on my last post. They really meant a lot. This is the beauty of going public about your weight loss. When you get discouraged--as you most certainly will--there are people standing outside of the situation who can remind you just why you are doing this. So, thank you people standing out there! I really needed to hear what you said. Thank you.

It's weigh in day. I lost less than a pound. My fear is that loss is actually loss of muscle since I haven't been consistently doing P90X for the past week and a half. But whatever. A loss is a loss. And today I'll take it with a smile on my face. I'm now at 82.6 pounds lost total since May 2011 and 27.9 pounds lost in 2012.

I really have tried to ease up on myself. I'm giving myself a bit of time off. I'm still running this week, but no P90X workouts. There just isn't a lot of time for both as I get ready for Memorial Day weekend. Healthy eating is hit and miss. We'll hit it again after the holiday. I promise. It's not the end.

I bought the Zumba Exhilarate DVD set off of Amazon yesterday. I can't wait to try it! I have two more weeks of P90X left. I'm so done with it already, but my goal is to "complete" it and I will do it. Another goal is to try Zumba. I've never done it before, but I'm fairly certain I'm going to love it. I can't resist shaking my booty to some good music; it sounds like it's right up my alley. And thank you to my dear husband who gave me the green light to buy it as my Mothers' Day gift!

Speaking of music, this is my favorite running song today. I ran this morning just so I could run to this song. It pushed me right up the steep hill near my house at a sprint. WOO!



Lastly, make sure to check out my main blog, Hanging by a Silver Lining. I'm posting one of my favorite healthy recipes today: BBQ Chicken Salad. Easy, healthy, gluten and dairy free. Can't beat that!

Happy Wednesday to you all!

I Don't Wanna

This morning my alarm went off at 6:15 am. After a few moments of arguing with myself, I got up, put on my running clothes, and went for a 3.5 mile run. I did it because I was certain I would feel better about myself, about the day, about life, if I did.

It didn't work.

I have struggled all day to accomplish anything more. It's just a "I don't wanna do anything I'm supposed to do" kind of day.

For that matter...I'm having more of a "I don't wanna" kind of month.

People ask me how I'm doing so well with weight loss and I feel like a liar when I tell them I try to eat right and run and do P90X. That may have been true a month ago...

I'm so burned out on P90X. I have two weeks left before I'm an official P90X grad. I've been repeating weeks that I flubbed up on. Last week was one of those. I missed over half of the workouts and I only ran once. I've been drinking tons of pop. Eating all sorts of chocolate and sugar and junk. Skipping out on veggies. And just feeling like an all around mess.

I know what I need to do to get back on track: have a little self control.

I know I can do it: I've done it before.

I know. But I don't wanna.

I keep telling myself, "It's okay. Take a break. Relax. Just hit it hard after Memorial Day weekend."

But that feels like cheating. It feels like I haven't truly learned a thing since starting this weight loss journey. 82 pounds lost and I haven't gained a darn bit of sense about being healthy.

I know that's not true. I'm just kind of down on myself lately. I am my own worst enemy. I keep beating myself up for not losing any more weight since my birthday. I've maintained right at 199.6 since April 18th. I keep thinking how dumb I am for not losing more, for eating so unhealthily lately, for struggling as much as I have been.

Memorial Day weekend is going to spent with lots of family since both my sisters are blessing their new babies that Sunday. I want to look smashing since I have worked so hard this year to lose weight. Plus, both my sisters and sister in law, even freshly postpartum will look severely smashing. And I don't even have their excuse as to why I still have a belly.

I was complaining to my husband and sister about not losing more weight lately and that I can only say, "I have lost 82 pounds" not "I have lost 90 pounds". They quickly put me in my place. "Yeah, because 82 pounds is just pathetic!" as they roll their eyes.

Why am I so quick to brush away my own success?
Why can't I seem to get a grip on true healthy eating?
Why am I not more comfortable in my own skin by now?
Why do I have to fight this battle my whole life?
Why hasn't it gotten any easier?

The Absent Giant

Eeek! Another month has blown by and I have neglected my poor little weight loss blog. I suppose it's the nature of being on a weight loss journey. By this point I am working out more than 2 hours a day some days of the week just trying to keep losing the weight and that leaves very little time or energy for much beyond mothering and running a household.

I wish I had more to show for my exercise efforts. Unfortunately, I really haven't lost any weight since my last blog post back on April 18th. Which is really really frustrating. Working out more than 2 hours a day and nothing to show for it?! It kind of makes you want to give up.

But I'm not going to! I can pinpoint exactly why I haven't made much progress this last month. I know I haven't been very good at the eating end of things. Between stress, loneliness, celebrations, and just plain laziness I've been eating all sorts of junk that is counteracting my hard work. I need to get diligent and strict again. *sigh*

It really goes to show that you can exercise all you want, but unless you are willing to have self control on the dietary end of things...you won't get too far, weight-loss-wise.

Blah. There's that "s word" again. Self control. Blah.

In other news, I reached the year mark on my weight loss journey last week. I would really love to write a blog post (WITH PICTURES!) just for that occasion--and I will! Just not right now.

On a more positive note, I have been finding therapy in running.

And I have been inspired through my slumps by the persistence and dedication of others.

(Click on the highlighted sentences above for those blog post links.)

Other than that...I'm still here. Still chugging away. Still making soppy excuses as why I'm not blogging here more regularly. One day...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I Wear Running Shoes to Therapy

I started running last year because I was fat.

And I was fat because...Well, I'm still figuring that one out. But don't worry about me; I'm working through it with the help of therapy.

I see my therapist 3 to 4 times a week. And I always wear my running shoes. A ponytail. And spandex.

My therapist doesn't talk much. She just listens as my brain sifts to the rhythm of my running shoes hitting the pavement. Some days "therapy" is just getting away from the kids, the house, the daily grind. Running mindlessly to loud, pumping music. My mind idling on song lyrics, craft projects, to do lists.

But some days--like today--we have break-throughs.

Today I ran past a wild rose bush. Cheery red and yellow blossoms snagged my peripheral vision. They flagged my memories down and instantly conjured a childhood image.

A daddy daughter date.

A Saturday morning. I don't know how old I was, but lucky me, I was going to go to a church breakfast with my dad. Just him and me.

Dressed up, we stood next to the wild rose bush that grew in our backyard. Near the grey bricks of the garage. The bush was wild and prickly and repulsive most of the year. But every spring, it imparted a peace offering: hundreds of bright, happy red and yellow blossoms.

I could smell the sun baked blossoms as we posed for a quick picture. My mom was there too. I remember her breaking off a few flowers to place jauntily in my dad's pocket. And a few blossoms to tuck behind my ear. Fragile, homemade boutonnieres for our special date.

Like the brilliantly colored petals, everyone was cheerful. The excitement of this petite rite of passage imprinted on my young mind accompanied by the sight and fragrance of floral reds and yellows.

This vivid memory, a memory I haven't reflected on in years, flooded my mind within milliseconds of catching sight of the bush. As I rushed past the blossoms, the warm, musty smell of sun baked wild roses waved me on, patting my back, and sealing in the reminiscence.

As I continued on my running path, savoring this cherished memory, I marveled at how quickly it had risen to my conscience. At how vivid it was. And again at how swiftly my mind and heart synchronized afterwards.

And just like that something gave way within me. Almost physically I felt it.

Forgiveness.

It was an instance where the circumstances of the moment harmonized. The music on my playlist was rather melancholy. I was feeling particularly receptive after being worn down by the effort of the first few miles. This was the one and only wild rose bush seen on my entire four mile journey.

There was a release. Of hurt, of anger, of bitterness. A grudge held against parents who made so many mistakes, left back on the trail, laid down to rest next to the rose bush. It was a sudden and enlightening realization that all parents are guilty of negligence and error as they struggle to find their way through parenthood. That there was no point in making them suffer for it anymore. Whether they realized I was doing it or not. Whether I realized I was doing it or not. And a hope that my own children would be kinder to me than I had been on my own mom and dad as I would inevitably have my own grievous faults in raising children.

All that from running.

I started running because I was fat. I keep running because I am healing my body, mind, and soul.

(And it's a heckuva alot cheaper than seeing a real therapist.)

Monday Melancholy

*grumblegroanwhinemoangrouchgrumble*

Ohhhh, it's been a frustrating day.

And I'm not exactly sure why. It's only Monday and I got all the laundry washed, folded, and put away. I did the dishes. Twice. I vacuumed. Three times. I kept the house tidy and neat all day long. We got homework done. I paid bills. I answered phone calls. I organized paper work. I said my prayers. I read scriptures.

I even squeezed in my P90X workout, which I didn't think was going to happen with all the housework and laundry.

A killer day for a mom of four, right?

But for some reason there was very little joy in all of it. Accomplished though it was, I still felt like I was scraping by all day long, just trying to complete something. Anything.

I'm burnt out on P90X and eating healthy.
I'm wondering if there's anything to my life beyond vacuuming floors.
I'm pessimistic about the clean laundry staying in the drawers.
I'm tired of meat and potatoes and veggies, meat and potatoes and veggies, repeat, rinse and repeat, for dinner.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

Oh me and my monotonous wonderful little life. What a pity I'm so blessed with so many amazing things, eh?

Good thing I saw this today...



If this guy can do it, with a smile on his face, I can do it without grumbling and complaining.

Happy Monday! Here's to a more joyful Tuesday!