Rebounding... In More Ways Than One

The past few weeks of Thirty-Six By Thirty-Six have been rather frustrating. Despite eating relatively well (aside from a weekend at Cat's, but we were both much better-behaved food-wise than in the past), the weight isn't falling off like it usually does for me when I start being more careful about what I eat. I've managed to drop seven pounds, which is perfectly reasonable weight loss for a three-week period, but I know from past experience that I can do better than that. And that is frustrating.

I'm not as young as I was last time I dropped a large amount of weight (70-odd pounds). And, intellectually, I know that one's metabolism often changes as one ages, which could be part of the issue. I think the bigger issue, however, is that I'm simply not as physically active as I once was. While I still have insane amounts of energy most of the time, my knees, hips, and - most recently - neck (from the attack - anyone who claims that I wasn't injured apparently has no clue the kind of damage a 240-pound man holding you down with his forearm will do to your neck) and back just aren't handling workouts like they used to. And, barring a miracle, my neck isn't going to get any better. It just is what it is.

I've finally come to the realization that, if I am going to get back in shape, it's going to be slower than I want in happening and take some modifications to my usual fitness routine. As much as I'd love to be pounding the pavement right now, my knees and back aren't going to tolerate that. At least not in the near term.

To that end, I bought a rebounder today. It's basically a small trampoline that has been modified with a stabilizer bar that allows you to balance yourself while you run/jog. I popped in a DVD (I'm re-watching an old science-fiction favorite, SeaQuest DSV, on Netflix), and I started jogging. And 45 minutes later, when the episode was over, I realized that I had just jogged for 45 minutes. Painlessly!

I guess that leaves me without the "it hurts to run, so I'm not gonna today" excuse.

Here's to getting my jog on. Seven pounds down... 29 to go!

Inspiration

5 pounds. That's how much weight I've lost in the past two weeks.

It's terribly frustrating for me to lose that little in the first two weeks; although I completely understand that 1-2 pounds is considered healthy (and maintainable) weekly weight loss, I usually drop weight very, very quickly once I commit to a change in my diet. I also know that I'm all kinds of hormonal right now, and that's probably impacting my weight loss - because of my endometriosis, I tend to fluctuate pretty wildly weight-wise (sometimes up to 10 pounds) around a certain time of month. And now would be that time.

But no matter how frustrated I am, I'm not going to revert back to my old eating habits, the ones that once brought me up to 196 pounds (and now brought me back to 183.8 a couple of weeks ago). As emotional and hormonal as I am right now, it would be SOOOO easy to say "screw this" and jump into a pint of Ben and Jerry's (Caramel Sutra... yummmmmm). But I have my eyes on a prize - the chance of becoming a biological mother.

And I also have some pretty big inspiration in the form of my mom and dad. Who have now collectively lost over 100 pounds - Mom was down 48 as of this morning! I am SO proud of them. If they can do it, I can do it too. I know I can.

The picture with this post is from right after Anne's trial (November 2009). I was considerably thinner than I am now, but still WAY up from the low-130s I was when I was attacked (which, in turn, was a bit up from my admittedly unhealthy low of 119 a few months before that). It's the last picture I have of me and my mom and dad together, and I'm calling it our "before" shot. The next time I see them will most likely be next summer (for my mother's mother's funeral/memorial - life has gotten in the way of our plans to do that), and I want to take another picture with them. Most likely, we'll all look VERY different than we look today, and certainly different than we did in this photo.

And we'll see how far we've all come. Together.

Time For a Change

So, you may have noticed that I'm no longer posting in "Thirty-Five by Thirty-Five". Truthfully, I didn't make my goal of losing thirty-five pounds by my thirty-fifth birthday; I actually ended up, for various reasons, gaining some weight.

Just under 3 months have passed since I turned 35, and I've decided that it's time to make some major changes in my life. For WAY too long, I have allowed myself to not take the best care of myself (making poor food choices, not getting enough exercise, etc.) and thrown up excuse after excuse - the meds I'm taking for my PSTD (from the attack) cause weight gain, things were rough at work for awhile this past summer, I broke my foot in the middle of the summer and couldn't work out much... blah blah blah. I have to stop making excuses and start taking control of the things I can control.

My parents have inspired me to stop making excuses and start making changes. For as long as I can remember, my mom and dad have been overweight. And by overweight, I mean obese. Seriously obese. I love them to the moon and back, and one of my greatest fears in life has always been getting the call from one of them to tell me that the other has passed away. For reasons I am not going to go into (unless they indicate that it's okay), they both decided this past February (just after the dust settled from the trial) to take control of their health. Dad started calling his quest "61 by 61" (lose 61 pounds by his 61st birthday). I was SHOCKED to see them in August - the changes in both of their bodies is profound. Last time we talked about this stuff, mom was over 40 pounds down and dad was somewhere near the 50 pound mark; his birthday is in mid-December. I am unspeakably proud of them for deciding that they wanted to do something about their health - and, for them, losing weight is a huge part of that.

On October 3rd, I began MY new journey towards a healthier me: 36 by 36. Losing 36 pounds will put me at the HIGH end of the "normal" range for BMI's - at 5 foot 5 inches and (on 10/03) 183.8 pounds, I'm currently not just overweight, I'm obese. Overall, I'd like to get down to about 135 - smack in the middle of the "normal" BMI range; I've been smaller than that - I was an 121 pound size 4-6 four years ago - but I was scary thin and looked like I was really, really sick (I kinda was, but that's a story for another day).

For me, it's not about being a certain size; as big as I am now, I'm still able to fit comfortably into non-plus-sized clothing, and people who know what I weigh have commented that you would NEVER guess how heavy I really am. This time, it's about something far, far more important than a number - it's about being HEALTHY... and for a very specific reason.

I've made no secret of the fact that I want to be a mother. I always thought that would happen the way that I was raised to believe it should happen: I'd get married, then I'd make babies. I'd still prefer to do it that way, but I've now reached an age where I have to face the reality that if it (meaning having a child) doesn't happen relatively soon, it won't happen at all. I have several friends who are childless and in their early-to-mid 40s who are having to face the reality that they will never be parents biologically, and every last one of them is regretting that fact. I don't want to wake up one day and realize that I gave up on the one thing I have ever known with absolutely certainty that I wanted because I was waiting for the timing and circumstances to be "just right".

I'm not saying that I'm going to run out and get pregnant right this very second; heck, I'm not even saying that I'm 100% going to do it at all. I just want to get myself as healthy as possible so the option MIGHT be there should I choose to go that route - I say "might" because I know that, due to my current and past medical history (heart condition, stroke, cancer, recurring kidney issues), there is a very real possibility that I will not be medically "cleared" for pregnancy. I understand that, and I've made peace with that. What would be much more difficult for me to make peace with would be knowing that I couldn't because I didn't take good enough care of myself...

And I WILL be a mother some day, whether biologically or via adoption or, ideally, both. There is not a single doubt in my mind that I will be a mother.

But first, I will take care of myself. I will feed my body the things it needs, and I will treat it the way it needs to be treated. I know that I have physical/medical limitations - I always will. But I will stop making excuses for not taking control of the things that I can.

It's time for a change.