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| 2 Days Late... But the Meaning is ALL the Same! |
Monday, September 26, 2011
Another Month Down!
I am all sorts of behind this month on celebrations first the massage, now the monthiversary...
Just like in the first year of a new relationship, I insist on celebrating every month's anniversary. Buckle up, we hit month 3!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Another Benefit of Teaching
One of my favorite parts of being back in the teaching routine is that I'm back on a normal eating schedule. When I first decided to give weight watchers a try I began right as I was starting student teaching. As anyone who has survived student teaching knows you barley have time to sleep, let alone cram in an hour to workout. Lets face it, I had bills to pay and every extra spare moment was going into keeping a roof over my head, not time on an elliptical. While I found myself neck deep in lesson planning, grading papers, and other master's program gargan, the back of my mind told me I had a wedding figure image I wanted to achieve and a new bikini to buy for my up coming spring break to the Caribbean. Needless to say, in January 2011 I put all my hopes and dreams into the weight watchers program. Lucky for me, it did not disappoint. Thanks to a well planned out academic school schedule boredom hunger rarely hit through the winter months (a time when I usually pack on what I call the 5 pound winter coat.) Days would start with a high in fiber breakfast (usually costing me about 3 points), a well balanced 6 point packed lunch (seriously, lots of food, little points), a get me through the hell of grading papers snack (thank you 2 point skinny cow bars), and still enough points left to splurge a little on dinner with Chipotle, Panera, or Chinese if I chose. I was feeling completely full and satisfied, and weight was falling off. It wasn't until I got off this synchronized schedule that I realized how easily I gave into food boredom and how hard it was to stay within my points for the day.
That's why I am welcoming back with full arms the teaching schedule. Yesterday was my first full day back and I couldn't be happier. Not only am I waking up early enough to eat a hearty breakfast, I'm also packing myself healthy, nutritious (did I mention huge 6 point !!) lunches and my body feels great come 3 o'clock. (Think about it, by 3 o'clock I've had less points and feel fuller with my healthy 2 meals than with my itty bitty 10 point kids pizza at Champps for lunch) By dinner I have enough points to actually eat a meal both Chris and I can enjoy (last night fish filets with Alfredo noodles and carrots-- delicious) and not feel guilty when I opt for dessert. And slowly, I'm building the willingness to actually go out and buy a battery for the scale to see the results (the thing died well over a month ago and I just thought that was for the best). Teaching is my profession for a reason. Other than being good at it, it puts me on a schedule that so many different aspects of my life needs. I dig it!
My healthy 6 Point Packed Lunch: An Everything Bagel Thin with mustard and deli meat (usually turkey or ham). A Weight Watchers brand string cheese, Fiber One Bar, and Granny Smith Apple! The Fiber One bar usually is chocolate or caramel flavored to give my body the "something sweet" most of my meals lack, plus, it beats a cookie!
That's why I am welcoming back with full arms the teaching schedule. Yesterday was my first full day back and I couldn't be happier. Not only am I waking up early enough to eat a hearty breakfast, I'm also packing myself healthy, nutritious (did I mention huge 6 point !!) lunches and my body feels great come 3 o'clock. (Think about it, by 3 o'clock I've had less points and feel fuller with my healthy 2 meals than with my itty bitty 10 point kids pizza at Champps for lunch) By dinner I have enough points to actually eat a meal both Chris and I can enjoy (last night fish filets with Alfredo noodles and carrots-- delicious) and not feel guilty when I opt for dessert. And slowly, I'm building the willingness to actually go out and buy a battery for the scale to see the results (the thing died well over a month ago and I just thought that was for the best). Teaching is my profession for a reason. Other than being good at it, it puts me on a schedule that so many different aspects of my life needs. I dig it!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Rewards All Around!
So yesterday was suppose to be reward day... No it did not go by unnoticed because I didn't deserve it, more it went by because A. I forgot Monday was reward day. B. I had to work ALL day yesterday. and C. I don't exactly have the money to shell out on a massage since I had to renew my license plates instead (I mean who wouldn't want to consider that a reward!) I promise myself, though, one massage is earned and therefore in the rewards bank. Besides those small details... there's much to reward myself for. Not only did I reach the second reward milestone in this journey towards conquering my eating disorder, I also for the first time ever ran my first organized race!
The Hudepohl 14K Brewery Run, a race I have been literary training for all summer. I've never been much of a runner, in fact I use to throw out excuses for not running that were more appropriate for my 84 year old grandmother to use than for me. Senior year of high school I was at the top of my running game, I was able to run 20 minutes straight 5 days a week (approximately 2- 2.25 miles). So when my dad asked me if I would be interested in doing a race that was almost 9 miles I was immediately intimidated, but committed, because it involved beer at the end. I figured this would also be a good way to kick-start my bride diet in gear. I did a Google search and found a program that told me I would be able to run 9 miles in 10 weeks, and so it began. I started on a treadmill since I have never been much of an outside runner. The program started off slow, 2 miles every other day the first week, go 3 by the end of the second, and for the first 5 weeks it really did go well. By the time I ran over an hour on the treadmill straight (6 miles) I knew this race was going to be a piece of cake and I applauded my new stamina for running. Thennn I took my efforts outside. By the end of the first run (about 2.5 miles) I knew I was in over my head and dead tired from heat exhaustion. I hardly completed half of the 4 mile run I had set out to do, and I was one month away the race. I panicked (I couldn't start a new 10 week program this close to race day) and got in my head. One particularly hot day after 5 frustrating outside runs I just stopped and said I'm done. All my training, all my efforts, I wasn't able to do it. I wasn't going to be able to do the race. My frustrations were written all over my face and my dad knew this. He explained to me over the phone that when running I should always be able to keep a "light" conversation going, and never try running at the peak heat of the day. I agreed (even though I knew I was done trying) and left it at that. The next day I couldn't help but think maybe I had been running too fast, and at the wrong time. I tried again. This time at twilight, and this time, I did it. 3.3 miles and the energy to do more. By the next Sunday, I was able to run 5 miles outside. I was sky high with glee! I had trained my body to run outside! I immediately called my dad and told him to sign us up. I was committed from this point on. Unfortunately, from this point on, life began to get in the way. Days I should have been doing 6, 7 and 8 mile runs I was stuck at Champps working doubles and too tired by the time I got home to run. Next thing I knew it was the night before the race and the most I had ever run outside was 6.13 miles a week and a half prior. Panic immediately hit my stomach again.
But that was Saturday morning...
and this was Saturday early afternoon. Post Race. I did it! It is one of those things in life I was on the brink of tears at the end because I was so proud of myself (I didn't do this for my masters graduation, one thing I do declare the proudest moment of my life) that I had done it. Yes it was hard, yes there were moments I wanted to stop and quit and just walk. But in the end, I did it, I didn't stop, I didn't quit, I didn't walk, I got my metal and enjoyed my beer.
This may have been my first, but definitely won't be my last race. As a good dear friend of mine knows ALL to well: Running is addicting. But I consider this to be a good type of addiction for me. 3-4 mile runs are just what I need to clear my head for 30-40 minutes, relieve a little stress, and let my mind wander. I already have a few races in mind coming up... particularly:
Minster Oktoberfest 10K Race in early October
The Flying Four Miler Thanksgiving Run in Novemeber
Jingle Bell Run in December
... and the new set goal: Columbus Half Marathon Spring 2013! (I need time off to plan a wedding after all!)
In conclusion for today and all this running/race/excitement... isn't it funny how I can apply the same mindset I have towards running during a race to an eating disorder? Don't stop (or in this case, do), Don't quit (I can hold this mindset, I can do it) and don't walk (don't give in.) Earn the metal (a happy, healthier body) and enjoy the rewards, in some cases beer applies here too!
Until Next Time!
The Hudepohl 14K Brewery Run, a race I have been literary training for all summer. I've never been much of a runner, in fact I use to throw out excuses for not running that were more appropriate for my 84 year old grandmother to use than for me. Senior year of high school I was at the top of my running game, I was able to run 20 minutes straight 5 days a week (approximately 2- 2.25 miles). So when my dad asked me if I would be interested in doing a race that was almost 9 miles I was immediately intimidated, but committed, because it involved beer at the end. I figured this would also be a good way to kick-start my bride diet in gear. I did a Google search and found a program that told me I would be able to run 9 miles in 10 weeks, and so it began. I started on a treadmill since I have never been much of an outside runner. The program started off slow, 2 miles every other day the first week, go 3 by the end of the second, and for the first 5 weeks it really did go well. By the time I ran over an hour on the treadmill straight (6 miles) I knew this race was going to be a piece of cake and I applauded my new stamina for running. Thennn I took my efforts outside. By the end of the first run (about 2.5 miles) I knew I was in over my head and dead tired from heat exhaustion. I hardly completed half of the 4 mile run I had set out to do, and I was one month away the race. I panicked (I couldn't start a new 10 week program this close to race day) and got in my head. One particularly hot day after 5 frustrating outside runs I just stopped and said I'm done. All my training, all my efforts, I wasn't able to do it. I wasn't going to be able to do the race. My frustrations were written all over my face and my dad knew this. He explained to me over the phone that when running I should always be able to keep a "light" conversation going, and never try running at the peak heat of the day. I agreed (even though I knew I was done trying) and left it at that. The next day I couldn't help but think maybe I had been running too fast, and at the wrong time. I tried again. This time at twilight, and this time, I did it. 3.3 miles and the energy to do more. By the next Sunday, I was able to run 5 miles outside. I was sky high with glee! I had trained my body to run outside! I immediately called my dad and told him to sign us up. I was committed from this point on. Unfortunately, from this point on, life began to get in the way. Days I should have been doing 6, 7 and 8 mile runs I was stuck at Champps working doubles and too tired by the time I got home to run. Next thing I knew it was the night before the race and the most I had ever run outside was 6.13 miles a week and a half prior. Panic immediately hit my stomach again.
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| Hude Race Route, Tiny, but check out MapMyRun for more intricate details |
But that was Saturday morning...
and this was Saturday early afternoon. Post Race. I did it! It is one of those things in life I was on the brink of tears at the end because I was so proud of myself (I didn't do this for my masters graduation, one thing I do declare the proudest moment of my life) that I had done it. Yes it was hard, yes there were moments I wanted to stop and quit and just walk. But in the end, I did it, I didn't stop, I didn't quit, I didn't walk, I got my metal and enjoyed my beer.
Minster Oktoberfest 10K Race in early October
The Flying Four Miler Thanksgiving Run in Novemeber
Jingle Bell Run in December
... and the new set goal: Columbus Half Marathon Spring 2013! (I need time off to plan a wedding after all!)
In conclusion for today and all this running/race/excitement... isn't it funny how I can apply the same mindset I have towards running during a race to an eating disorder? Don't stop (or in this case, do), Don't quit (I can hold this mindset, I can do it) and don't walk (don't give in.) Earn the metal (a happy, healthier body) and enjoy the rewards, in some cases beer applies here too!
Until Next Time!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The Effectiveness of Will Power!
The realization last night? This week is really going to test my willpower. After nearly pummeling through my bonus points in one sit down serving of trivia (BBQ Chicken Fingers, Potstickers, Mile High Icecream, oh my waistline!) , I only have 8 bonus points left for the week... And I have 4 more days to go (which says something since I didn't even count Monday, a day I definitely killed all my points). This includes the ever fearful weekend. When I made the decision for weekly bonus points (weight watchers gives me a total of 35 per week) to renew on Mondays instead of Thursdays I knew I would be holding myself accountable all week long to guarantee I would have extra points for the weekend. This is the first time I haven't let myself be accountable, so I am really putting the system to the test.
Last night I immediately thought of giving up and just calling it a scratch week. But where's the power in that? I am stronger than this, I am in more control, and I'm not so addicted to food that I can't say no. I'm just going to have to work a little harder this week and do a little more research. I will get more satisfaction on Sunday saying, I did it! Then crumbling and falling and giving in to food. Plus, next week is a long food week anyway. I'm taking a mini vacation to Cincinnati, Ohio for Oktoberfest and do intend to drink beer and not be so point conscious. A small break if you will. I need to be realistic with myself. If a small break is truly deserved, it needs to be earned. Just like in running... you can't earn the downhill without the uphill.
Last night I immediately thought of giving up and just calling it a scratch week. But where's the power in that? I am stronger than this, I am in more control, and I'm not so addicted to food that I can't say no. I'm just going to have to work a little harder this week and do a little more research. I will get more satisfaction on Sunday saying, I did it! Then crumbling and falling and giving in to food. Plus, next week is a long food week anyway. I'm taking a mini vacation to Cincinnati, Ohio for Oktoberfest and do intend to drink beer and not be so point conscious. A small break if you will. I need to be realistic with myself. If a small break is truly deserved, it needs to be earned. Just like in running... you can't earn the downhill without the uphill.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Tomorrow's Another Day
I know I said I wasn't suppose to go nuts on EVERY holiday but....
Yesterday I just needed a break from counting. I've worked so hard for three weeks on checking that everything that goes in my mouth was okay and within the constraints of weight watchers that I finally just said no, I'm not counting today. I had done really well the night before at my in-laws house so I decided a break was in order. I pretty much made this decision once I knew I had blown my points for the day at 11a.m (damnit delicious leftovers!). At first my mind tried to tell my body I was done eating for the day, but then I told myself that was ridiculous and to just enjoy the day with food, and don't avoid labor day BBQs just because food was going to be present. I decided not to deprive myself, so I didn't! Part of fixing myself is how to cope with social situations and food, after all the holiday season is right around the corner and its time to start preparing.
What helped ease my mind was the decision I made to do a 6 mile run before I went over to the BBQ festivities. Since it was a mid-sixty afternoon day I felt it was perfect weather to go outside and clear my head. Knowing then once I got to the party that I had ran for almost 80 minutes prior I didn't feel so bad having a cookie or scoop of taco dip. I even made a mental note to look at my plate. Since doing weight watchers I've noticed I have drastically cut my portion size. Prior to doing this system I would literally pile food onto my plate that I knew I liked. Now, I scoop up what I feel is a portion, eat my share, then SIT and see if I'm satisfied or if I really do need seconds. It's really helped me fight this addiction I've been battling with food. I physically felt a difference yesterday. I made a mental note to do the same thing once Thanksgiving rolls around, to go and do a long early morning run, then take eating slowly!
The other reason I decided to make it a "binge" day was to see if I was mentally capable of letting that much food sit in my stomach at this point in the journey without attempting to throw it up. What a relief, it wasn't a battle at all. I just kind of came to terms with I had eaten more than my fair share for the day, and I would wake up and be back on the bandwagon tomorrow. Today was truly a new day, I woke up knowing I would be counting again and planned for a post-work elliptical session. The labor day binge break even made it easier to jump back on the band wagon. I told myself I had my breather, my break, my stress relief from counting (it was without a doubt, needed) and that the journey starts back up again today. These breaks are not something I intend to plan (with the exception of Thanksgiving and Christmas) like I have in past diets. In my diet mind, weekends never counted, it was an eating free for all, but I know that didn't help me or my waistline. What I have learned about breaks is know they are something I need to incorporate in my diet, just not so regularly. It helps keep the diet train moving, without taking a sudden halt with Ed.
Yesterday I just needed a break from counting. I've worked so hard for three weeks on checking that everything that goes in my mouth was okay and within the constraints of weight watchers that I finally just said no, I'm not counting today. I had done really well the night before at my in-laws house so I decided a break was in order. I pretty much made this decision once I knew I had blown my points for the day at 11a.m (damnit delicious leftovers!). At first my mind tried to tell my body I was done eating for the day, but then I told myself that was ridiculous and to just enjoy the day with food, and don't avoid labor day BBQs just because food was going to be present. I decided not to deprive myself, so I didn't! Part of fixing myself is how to cope with social situations and food, after all the holiday season is right around the corner and its time to start preparing.
What helped ease my mind was the decision I made to do a 6 mile run before I went over to the BBQ festivities. Since it was a mid-sixty afternoon day I felt it was perfect weather to go outside and clear my head. Knowing then once I got to the party that I had ran for almost 80 minutes prior I didn't feel so bad having a cookie or scoop of taco dip. I even made a mental note to look at my plate. Since doing weight watchers I've noticed I have drastically cut my portion size. Prior to doing this system I would literally pile food onto my plate that I knew I liked. Now, I scoop up what I feel is a portion, eat my share, then SIT and see if I'm satisfied or if I really do need seconds. It's really helped me fight this addiction I've been battling with food. I physically felt a difference yesterday. I made a mental note to do the same thing once Thanksgiving rolls around, to go and do a long early morning run, then take eating slowly!
The other reason I decided to make it a "binge" day was to see if I was mentally capable of letting that much food sit in my stomach at this point in the journey without attempting to throw it up. What a relief, it wasn't a battle at all. I just kind of came to terms with I had eaten more than my fair share for the day, and I would wake up and be back on the bandwagon tomorrow. Today was truly a new day, I woke up knowing I would be counting again and planned for a post-work elliptical session. The labor day binge break even made it easier to jump back on the band wagon. I told myself I had my breather, my break, my stress relief from counting (it was without a doubt, needed) and that the journey starts back up again today. These breaks are not something I intend to plan (with the exception of Thanksgiving and Christmas) like I have in past diets. In my diet mind, weekends never counted, it was an eating free for all, but I know that didn't help me or my waistline. What I have learned about breaks is know they are something I need to incorporate in my diet, just not so regularly. It helps keep the diet train moving, without taking a sudden halt with Ed.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
I.R.B
And sometimes... Life is just knocked into perspective.
My cousin's middle son, Issac, passed away this morning at the tiny age of 9 years old. 9 years old, a life just beginning. About two years ago he went to the emergency room with a terribly high fever and stomach cramps. Turns out he had children's diabetes, in one of the most extreme cases possible. Although he made a full recovery his life was from that point on dictated by regular insulin injections and a new eating lifestyle. For a 7 year old he was very "on top of" taking care of himself, very responsible, very adult-like for only nine. Last night, for whatever reason, he passed away in his sleep due to either too high of sugar, or too low.
Guilt, sadness, perspective, and a bit of anger at myself. That's what's going through my head right now. How is it that a small child is so responsible with his eating habits and responsibilities to a dietary disorder, yet takes his life away? I, on the other hand; couldn't have been anymore irresponsible with my body, practically bringing it to hell and back and here I stand today, alive and well. What my cousins are going through at the moment I can't even imagine, and let alone even imagine putting my parents through the same the thing. What I got this morning was a cold hard punch to the stomach, and a wake-up call that there is no turning back on this journey to recovery.
Prayers to little Issac Richard Boeckman <3
My cousin's middle son, Issac, passed away this morning at the tiny age of 9 years old. 9 years old, a life just beginning. About two years ago he went to the emergency room with a terribly high fever and stomach cramps. Turns out he had children's diabetes, in one of the most extreme cases possible. Although he made a full recovery his life was from that point on dictated by regular insulin injections and a new eating lifestyle. For a 7 year old he was very "on top of" taking care of himself, very responsible, very adult-like for only nine. Last night, for whatever reason, he passed away in his sleep due to either too high of sugar, or too low.
Guilt, sadness, perspective, and a bit of anger at myself. That's what's going through my head right now. How is it that a small child is so responsible with his eating habits and responsibilities to a dietary disorder, yet takes his life away? I, on the other hand; couldn't have been anymore irresponsible with my body, practically bringing it to hell and back and here I stand today, alive and well. What my cousins are going through at the moment I can't even imagine, and let alone even imagine putting my parents through the same the thing. What I got this morning was a cold hard punch to the stomach, and a wake-up call that there is no turning back on this journey to recovery.
Prayers to little Issac Richard Boeckman <3
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