Drinking the Kool-Aid

I'm starting to feel like I understand why people enjoy working out, and it's kinda freaking me out. I thought it was seriously so fucking stupid when people would talk about how they love running, or how they miss it if they skip their workouts. I would roll my eyes when people would gush about the adrenaline rush of a good sweat, and felt real pity at the thought of these poor schmucks wasting their time at the gym. It seemed like telling people you like working out is the equivalent of saying you just can't stop getting an A+ on every test even though you never study. Like, shut up, fuck you, no one wants to hear about how perfect you are, jackass.

But...like...god this sounds so lame but I am LOVING walking or hiking every day! I'm logging more Activity Points in a day now than I was in entire week a year ago! I feel awesome when I'm sweaty and sore and tired but still pushing myself up stairs or over a hill!

In other words, I totally drank the exercise Kool-Aid.

To be clear, I was doing just fine losing weight on Weight Watchers without working out. In fact, I lost pretty much all of the weight I've lost (around 85 of the 95 pounds total) without working out AT ALL...literally barely moving. Go read my old blog posts, I was seriously a sloth. I've only lost around 10 pounds in the past 6 months--the time since my heart surgery, which is consequently the only time I've had the ability to be physically active. But even though I've only lost 10 pounds, I feel completely incredible. I'm walking faster, harder, stronger, longer. I'm dragging my girlfriend on several mile long hikes almost every night. I'm finding new ways to be active. I'm starting to plan our hikes the day in advance so I have something to look forward to.

I mean, instead of ordering pizza and watching a movie on Friday night, we go hiking and then go wander around outdoor art installations. On normally boring weeknights, we decide to meet after work for a long walk through town to go eat, then walk back to burn off our meals. For Mother's Day, we had a super healthy picnic and then took my girlfriend's family on a 3 mile hike around the art center. I NEVER would have agreed to that before, and I certainly wouldn't have suggested it! Yesterday, I joined the Garden Club at work and spent 2 hours literally shoveling shit, and instead of being miserable I just kept thinking about what an awesome workout it was. Today I'm so stiff and sore but instead of being annoyed, I'm proud and happy about it.

Living an active life is still pretty weird. I feel restless when I go a day or two without walking, and I'm even starting to get impatient with how slowly everyone else walks. Every now and then I get a burst of energy and feel like making a mad dash down the trail. Sometimes I actually do it.

I didn't think this would ever happen to me, but the more in shape I get, the more I want to get in shape.

It's honestly pretty awesome. Plus, it's earning me extra Activity Points so I can eat more, which is extra awesome. I hope I can sustain this level of activity...but I don't think that will really be a problem. My biggest real concern right now is whether or not my girlfriend will be able to keep up with me :)

Celebrating Success

I was so proud of myself last year when I had lost 95 pounds. I just knew 100 pounds was only a week away, and my next Weight Watchers goal weight was 199, which was totally achievable with fewer than 10 pounds to go.

I don't know if I've ever been more proud of myself.

But now...well, now I'm struggling just to stay under 220 pounds. I'm ashamed. I've been riding that awful roller coaster since September. A few pounds up, a few pounds down, more pounds up, more pounds down. I weighed in at 214 last week, which would be exciting if I hadn't gotten down lower than that MONTHS ago. 

And now my doctor put me on Zoloft, which is notorious for weight gain. I fully expect to gain 15 or more pounds, which will be devastating to me. I feel like that will make me more depressed and anxious...so, like, what's the point of the Zoloft then?

But I'm still going. I'm still eating right and weighing in. And more amazingly (to me), I'm going on long walks and hikes every chance I get. It's hard to remember my life before my heart surgery in August. I can't believe that less than a year ago, I struggled to walk to the mailbox. Now I'm going on 4 mile hikes and feeling absolutely awesome afterwards. 

So maybe I'm not losing weight. Yeah, if fucking sucks. But I am STILL PROUD of myself. Maybe not for losing weight, but because I am living an active life for the first time in so long. 

That's still something to celebrate. 

Spring Forward

It's been another long week of wintry weather.

I can hardly bear it.

It's been dreary and rainy, but I suppose I should be grateful it's rain and not snow. It still sucks.

Today we're heading out to the park. It's supposed to be in the mid-50s which sounds like a heatwave after this hard winter. We're even bringing the dogs to let them get out into the sunshine, despite the recent rains which I'm sure turned our trails into muddy Slip-n-Slides.

I'm looking forward to earning some Activity Points to make up for Friday's Italian restaurant pesto and mozzarella ravioli gorge-fest. And there are tiny tips of plants and flowers starting to emerge from the mud so, even though the weather sucks, I do know that spring really must be coming eventually.

I've been spending time at the cemetery a lot because it's so peaceful and the paved roads make it easy to walk even when it's muddy, and we go walking anytime the sun is out and it's at least 50 degrees. It's still not really springy, but I know we're getting closer. And closer to spring means closer to summer, my favorite season.

One thing (of the many millions) that's making me eager for warm weather is the garden club I joined at work. On Friday I went to the first meeting and now I'm so pumped. We have a big raised-bed garden at work, and for $25 you pitch in with planting, weeding, and watering, and in return you get ALL THE VEGETABLES YOU WANT!!! Amazing, no?!

We're planting all kinds of awesome stuff. Potatoes, corn, lettuce, carrots, eggplant, zucchini, bell peppers, hot peppers, cucumbers, berries, tomatoes, herbs, kale, squash, gourds, a ton more I can't remember, and maybe even grapes. I can't wait to be able to fill a basket with delicious, fresh, pesticide-free veggies...and I'm also looking forward to having an excuse to go out to the garden and spend a few minutes in the sunshine every day at work. Exciting!

I always wanted to join the Garden Club before, but I knew with my bad heart that I couldn't commit, and I didn't want my plants to die because I was unable to walk out there. Now that my heart is strong and good, I know I'll be able to help out and I will literally reap the benefits (terrible pun, shame on me).

We're planting the garden the first weekend after Mother's Day, and I can't wait. Summer can't get here fast enough.

Until then, at least I have the park to enjoy.

100 Mile March…Or My Own Version

My workplace is always trying to be healthier (we have a great fitness center and trainer, free Weight Watchers,  quarterly gift cards for healthy habits, only diet sodas in the vending machines, etc.). It's pretty awesome actually. So this year they're promoting the 100 Mile March again. The idea is just to commit to walking 100 miles over the course of the month of March.

Last year, since I had lost a good amount of weight (like 55 pounds) by March and I felt pretty good, I decided to try it.

It was a dismal failure.

I walked every day for the first week. Seven days. My total distance walked? 1.5 miles. That's over a period of seven days COMBINED.

I was so disappointed.

I really did try, but I could only walk two minutes at a time before having an asthma attack and feeling like I was going to vomit.

I had no idea at the time that I was actually suffering from severe cardiac asthma and that my heart valve had grown shut and I was basically a walking heart failure bomb. I didn't find that out until June, and then had heart surgery in August to fix it. But in March, all I knew was that I sucked. That I couldn't even walk, even after losing so much weight.

It was seriously depressing.

So this year, to ramp up slowly and avoid such devastating failure, I'm making my own March. I'm doing a 30 Mile March.

30 Mile March?

Totally doable.

It's the 13th and I've logged right around 12 miles, so I'm perfectly on track. Between my Jawbone UP and my Map My Workout app, I'm doing a good job of getting extra steps in, along with taking short but trackable walks, like trekking a couple blocks with my employees for lunch, or walking around a cemetery while I wait for my girlfriend to get off work.

Even though the weather still sucks, we managed to take a great hike every day Friday through Monday last weekend. Sure, the trails were basically bogs and we had to slog and slide through six inches or more of mud in some places, but it was awesome to be outside DOING something.

I can't recall ever being in the woods before spring or summer. It's been cool to see the green moss peeking out from beneath the melting snow, and to see the trails without the curtains of leaves. The woods feel so open and bare without leaves. I kind of like it.

So I may not be confident enough for a 100 Mile March yet, but I'll do 30 miles. I'm ready for that at least. And I walked farther the first day this year than I did the entire first week last year.

That's progress!

Abs of Jelly

It's so awesome to be able to dress my age again. I mean, I'm only 31. I felt like a gross old lady every time I went to work wearing yoga pants (knowing very well that I was NOT going to practice any yoga) and Crocs and cardigans. I spent almost two years in tent dresses and flip flops all summer, then "dress" sweats and baggy sweaters all winter.

This is my first real Fall since so long ago. I can wear real jeans again, and cute, form-fitting sweaters, with fitted jackets and knee-high riding boots. It's amazing.

But as much as I'm loving the ability to wear jeans, I am still facing the problem I've had for years: my Gonzo-nose stomach. Even though I'm smaller now, I'm still virtually the same shape. I have the same lumps and flab, and my stomach is still big and soft. It hangs down (the ultra-embarrassing, often unspoken of, dreaded pannus ::shudder::). It bulges out. And, hardest to conceal, it pooches out right above my bellybutton. If I wear jeans that come to my bellybutton or below, it doesn't matter if they fit me or even if they're too big: my stomach roll sticks out over my pants.

My only solution is to wear pants that come above my bellybutton. Like, mom jeans that come up high and act as a girdle, or maternity-type pants that unfold to form a flat surface up my torso. I do have some Spanx but, let's face it, I'm not putting that much effort into beautifying myself for work. And I have those slimming camisoles that keep everything smooth, but they roll up sometimes and they're just not very comfortable pushing down on my healing heart surgery scars.

While I continue to fight my own battle of the bulge using my wardrobe as a weapon, I'm also fighting on another front: from the inside. I saw some people posting challenges on Facebook and decided to try one. Then...I decided to try another. Now I'm doing two different month long ab challenges, and...I'm secretly loving it!

The first one is the 30 Day Plank Challenge:

The 30 Day Plank Challenge will send your core strength through the roof!
Day 1 - 20 seconds
Day 2 - 20 seconds
Day 3 - 30 seconds
Day 4 - 30 seconds
Day 5 - 40 seconds
Day 6 - REST
Day 7 - 45 seconds
Day 8 - 45 seconds
Day 9 - 60 seconds
Day 10 - 60 seconds
Day 11 - 60 seconds
Day 12 - 90 seconds
Day 13 - REST
Day 14 - 90 seconds
Day 15 - 90 seconds
Day 16 - 120 seconds
Day 17 - 120 seconds
Day 18 - 150 seconds
Day 19 - REST
Day 20 - 150 seconds
Day 21 - 150 seconds
Day 22 - 180 seconds
Day 23 - 180 seconds
Day 24 - 210 seconds
Day 25 - 210 seconds
Day 26 - REST
Day 27 - 240 seconds
Day 28 - 240 seconds
Day 29 - 270 seconds
Day 30 - PLANK FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!

It was incredibly difficult at first, since I haven't really ever planked before. I mean, I was shaking and gasping and I didn't think I was going to make it. (To be clear, this is not that cheesy Instagram/Twitter planking thing, where I go balance myself, like, on the railing at Niagara Falls while my girlfriend takes a photo and hopes I don't fall off and die.) Now, on day 7, it's still hard. And every few days it's going to get harder. But my abs feel great, and I feel like I'm actually accomplishing something each day!

The second one is the 24 Day Abs-So-Tightly Right Challenge. This one involves crunches, which aren't so bad, along with leg raises, which was apparently completely impossible for me to do. I tried. I swear I did. But I just can't lift both legs at once. They're pretty big legs, but I still feel like I should be able to lift them. When I try, though, my back starts to arch and then my tailbone grinds into the ground (which is probably not good for my temporarily dormant pilonidal cyst) and I just can't get them to raise off the ground no matter how hard I strain. Instead, I'm making up for it by doing single leg raises, one leg at a time, and I've added side leg lifts because that's what my mom always did when I was little and it just seems like something that should be included in a workout. This challenge also asks you to plank, but I figure I have that covered in the first challenge.

I already feel like I can feel a bit of definition when I put my hands on my hips. And when I roll over on my side, I feel like a little less belly settles down in front of me. I gained weight during my last two weigh-ins, but I do feel stronger and my abs are seriously sore. Something must be working. Maybe by the end of the month, I'll be able to wear pants that don't come up to my armpits.

Work, Bitch

Apparently my cardiac rehab is working--I not only feel stronger and healthier, I also lost 3.4 pounds at weigh-in this week. Nice!

I'm now down to 215 pounds even, down 89 pounds from my starting weight of 304 last August. 89 pounds...that's pretty crazy. That's more than my 9 year old nephew. That's more than my old Rottweiler. According to the list, I'm one pound away from having lost a NEWBORN CALF. Whoa.

As much as I hate going to rehab three times a week, I have to admit it's kind of nice. It's strange to have basically a regular gym schedule. And they don't just turn on the machines and let me go--I have to be hooked up to the heart monitors, they come and take my oxygen and heart rate and blood pressure while I'm working out, and every session they try to increase my time, my incline, my resistance, etc. After my heart surgery I was scheduled for 18 sessions, so I think I still have around 4 weeks to go.

Yesterday, though, was TOUGH. I kept bitching about the stationary bike (I'm not used to working the fronts of my legs, so it makes me tired really fast). Well, after they were nice and tried to switch things up for me, I wanted to go back to the stationary bike so badly! They had me on something called an Arc Trainer. I guess they're all the rage but I've never even seen one (obviously I don't exactly frequent a gym). It's basically like a nightmare mashup of a stair climber and an elliptical machine. It's fucking horrible.

The nurse had me start the Arc Trainer and I seemed to get the hang of it. Thinking I would be fine, she set it for 20 minutes and said that I didn't have to do the full 20 but just see what I could get through. Then she went to go make her rounds to the other rehabbers. After about 60 seconds, I was sweating and panting and my butt and hips were screaming in pain. After maybe three minutes, I thought I was going to pass out. I slowed down long enough to turn my playlist to "Work Bitch" (I love Britney, especially when working out now, and ESPECIALLY this song) and I powered through. I got to five minutes and started looking around for the nurse, trying to make eye contact. After about seven minutes, my chest was burning like it hasn't burned since before my surgery. I didn't want to stop and admit defeat so I kept going, but the machine started beeping some kind of heart rate alarm. I kept going, gasping for air, glaring straight ahead, determined and frustrated and possibly dying. Finally the nurse rushed over and told me my heart rate was way too high (duh) and had me stop. That was 11 minutes of pure hell. Seriously, it's like a torture device with fancy foot pads. So they put me on a range limiter for another 10 minutes as a cool-down and then I got to go home. In the car, my lungs and chest were still on fire and I was coughing up phlegm just like before my surgery when I was in a constant state of cardiac asthma.

Anyway, I survived and I told them I am determined to try it again on Monday. Just maybe for five minutes instead. My legs and ass are sore, and I have hip muscles that I've never felt before. Ouch. What am I going to do after my rehab is over? I don't have anyone to push me like that, and I don't know if I can push myself like that. Working out sucks but...well, if I keep seeing results at weigh-in, maybe it will be worth it after all.