Fit-Fat

Hands

Gratitude, what’s it about anyway? It’s about not feeling sorry for yourself, not being a victim, it’s about empowerment, it’s about grace and thankfulness.

1. Friends, these people hold me accountable and let me be me, they let me vent and say all the things I couldn’t otherwise say, I wouldn’t otherwise say, if not for a discerning ear. They know what to hold on to, and what to let go of, and what is in my heart. This morning, I’m thankful for friends.

2. Life, I am simply awestruck at this opportunity. The possibilities are endless, the potential for life altering mistakes and victories, the complexity, the fragility, and the knowledge that it’s all so very simple.

3. Health, I feel like starting a FB page called fit-fat. Yeah, you read that right, fit-fat. I’m not kidding here. I am fat, I own that, but I also own that I am pretty darn fit right now and yes, those two can coincide. Hopefully, I can get powerless over the food and as a natural effect of my physical fitness and food choices the fat will go away, but for now I’m fit-fat…and I’m good with that.

4. Springtime…enough said.

5. Fender benders. I have a 2005 paid off Dodge Grand Caravan that I’ve wanted detailed for a few years now. It’s never been in the budget, until now. The other day I was hit from behind in the carpool line, this mom seemed was a little flighty. The incident resulted in a little dimple in the bumper, barely recognizable.  The adjustment and check I received from her insurance company was just shy of the cost of detailing my van. Thank goodness no one was hurt, but who knew that morning driving the kids to school in my pajamas that I would soon be able to afford the cost of  detailing!

One more word about health. I received a pretty amazing compliment the other day. I went to spin class at the gym and pushed myself, it was exactly what I needed, sweat was pouring off my head, good times. After class two girls stopped me and asked me if that was my first time in class, they commented on how well I did. They were noticeably struggling through it. I told them that I normally come to an earlier class and that I am doing ripped now so I use spin for an off day. My level of endurance was obviously impressive…they didn’t know I was fit-fat. 

In conclusion, it was an awesome feeling. Take a few minutes to get grateful and sweat a little today, these will help you learn to love yourself a little more and when we love ourselves we are in a better place to love others and God.

Tom Dooley and the Obesity gods

Guess what I did yesterday? I weighed in on the hospital scale, and can you guess what it said? 222 pounds. That’s still three pounds higher than a few weeks ago. Ah, bummer, right? Poor me, I should go weigh on another medical scale because this one, it’s wrong.

Cut to me sneaking into an alcove of the emergency room that holds the most often used scale, slip off my scrub coat, my badge, my stethoscope, my shoes, try not to look conspicuous and pray like crazy an ambulance doesn’t arrive and someone comes to get the scale.

222…f..u..d..g..e.

I wan’t some, NOW!

Really? Last week I rode forty-two miles on my bike and  ran 6 miles. I cursed. Oh yes I did girl, yes I did! For the past two weeks I have been lax at work, eating what I wanted but trying to portion things out. I was giving myself a little… breaksy. I had hoped against hope that someone, anyone would bring in doughnuts…no one did. I have passed up the doughnuts for three months and dadblastit I was going to have some. No one brought anything unhealthy.

This weekend I was serious again. No cheating, just good old-fashioned healthy vittles! I had packed my lunch with tomato bisque, salad, peppers, chicken sausage, oatmeal with almonds for breakfast, shakes ready to go for supper and then promptly left it at home.

Then 222 hit me. All that exercise. 222.

Again, cue me, head hanging like Tom Dooley, feeling sorry for myself, I round the corner and like the gods of obesity were in command I see SEVEN $#$@% BAGS OF DOUGHNUTS sitting on the trough.  That’s what we call the place people put food to share with the entire ER. Here’s the best part, the doc that brought em’…sitting in a chair eating her perfectly portioned bag of almonds. Bitch.

Sorry.

Well, I lifted up my head and walked straight by those little nuggets of evil sent by the obesity gods, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and had the best weekend of eating yet! 

 Or…I walked over to those doughnuts and scooby-doo’d more than I care to share on the very public blog. I then went on to continue the self loathing for lunch by having a mystery meat cheesy grilled sandwich, chips, and later ate some of the best little fruit tart cookies off the trough again. Three or four I can’t remember, but at this point, none of it really  matters. I came home and had pizza and salad and ate a pop-tart later when no one was looking.

Shaking head back and forth. Not a good day in the old play book Ro.

About today, what did I do about today? I shook it off, I bounced around in my corner, I pulled out all the no excuses language, I got mad at the obesity gods, I refused to die today. Today I ate:

  1. Two hard-boiled eggs
  2. Spring mix salad, avocado, chicken sausage
  3. I had FOUR tortilla chips from the trough with guacamole I made for one of our docs who is leaving.
  4. Chocolate Shakeology shake before meeting my family at Hunan Garden for Father’s Day dinner.
  5. Three pieces of honey chicken, small serving combo fried rice, one crab rangoon.
And a side of peace and restored self-respect tonight. Feeling sorry for oneself is a dangerous cancer. If I hadn’t been so consumed with silly little numbers I would have been able to keep perspective. Like, it’s a very bad time of the month, for me to weigh, I was still fully clothed and had a huge cup of coffee, and numbers are just numbers. I can’t let them control me that much. I am in this to win this. I cannot allow myself to jump ship because the scale doesn’t move.
Tomorrow I ride and I really can’t wait.
I need some extra accountability and I might try to start a Shakeology 30 Day Challenge and see if anyone wants to join me. I am still proud of how far I’ve come and how far I WILL go. I believe in me. 
Have a blessed night.


Really??

I honestly can’t believe I just did that, referring to my last post that is. Posting pictures of myself in attire I wouldn’t even wear in my yard whilst gardening and uploading them to the inernet is either really courageous or assine. I don’t honestly know what to make of it other than maybe I’ve grown a pair and am starting to become the person I really want to be, and that means authenticity. If this is a tool I use in order to get the life I deserve, so be it. But I still think it’s bat shit crazy.

Reminds me of the SNL skit where Seth Meyers pauses, flashes my before and after and looks straight at me, “Really? Really? No, Ro, really?”

Ah well, what’s done is done. It helps a little that I don’t publicize this on my FB feed. As in, my close aquaintances don’t see this…hopefully. I started this really anonymously, at first it was private, then I let a few close friends and family memebers know about it. Then I just decided to get all hardcore about it and make it public.

Right now I am in our van waiting on the fam to “empty their bladders,” as hubs referred to it when talking to the children. He makes me laugh. The dog is sitting on my lap and we are heading to Oklahoma. The Dolce is in the back and I can’t wait to get up early and ride some Oklahoma roads.

I’m spending the week with my sister and looking forward to it. Not looking forward to this ride but maybe I can catch a nap. I haven’t eaten dinner and there is an evil McDonalds across the street starring me down like a cowboy with a loaded gun. Can you hear the showdown music playing…to be continued…

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The Ensemble to End All Ensembles

In second grade I have this distinct memory of wanting to be fit. We lived at the back of a trailer park right by the Rio Grande river in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I lived with my mother, I was an only child, and had quite the active imagination, that helped pass the time. I was also very fat. Not freakishly fat, mind you, but just enough to make it the bane of my 7-year-old existence.  Besides being nicknamed Rolaids, being fat was not fun in elementary school. But here’s where the good laugh comes in and every time I recall this memory I smile.

I remember seeing healthy people running, walking, exercising, mostly on television. I watched a lot of television, even back then when we only had…say five channels on a good day. So one day, seven-year-old me decided it was time to get fit. I promptly outfitted myself in the appropriate attire for doing so and set out along the gravel trailer park road that lead to Ultimate Physical Fitness.  A stones throw from my front door I hear a roaring belly laugh that I cannot seem to locate. I stopped dead in my tracks and again, heard the laughter. The sixth sense is very a real sense and mine was telling me this laughter was directed at me, and it was probably coming from an open window where my neighbors lived. I couldn’t see the evil from whence it came but I had an uncanny notion, yes, this sinister laugh was  meant for me. You see, I must have been quite the sight, tight black leotard, white chubby legs, some sort of off brand tennis shoe, and to make the ensemble complete,  a large white towel draped around my neck. That was the image and picture of health I knew would help me get into the best shape of my life, but the mocking laughter sent that seven-year-old me right.  Back.  Home.

Sad as this story may seem, it cracks me up but it encourages me at the same time.  Today is Easter, the holiday I celebrate Jesus overcoming death and giving us forgiveness of our sin. I am spending the day with my family where we are at my Dad’s with my brothers and their families.  This afternoon, I decided to grab the Insanity DVD, isolate in the game room and get my workout on, for Jesus.  As I was stretching,  balancing, hopping and sweating I realized, that even at 70-80 lb. overweight, I am incredibly flexible and have great body control and balance. The thought occurred to me, I was made for this.  From a very young age I have had a desire to be active, even as a young awkward seven-year-old girl with very little fashion sense, this is what I wanted.

My workout is over, initially I did it for a piece of carrot cake tonight, but now I don’t even care.  With all the food and candy around all I can think about is keeping my eye on the prize and how a little pleasure isn’t worth the distraction.  Let me be clear, this is not a declaration of cake abstinence tonight, by no means, I’m just thought-vomiting into the blogosphere.  The cake situation remains to be seen, but for now, I think I’ll head out to Wal-Mart and grab some veggies and put my Grandmother’s juicer to good use.  I’m going to teach her how to make a mean-green taste like a treat.

Have a blessed Easter.