Weight: 172 lbs.
Over Bust: 43"
Under Bust: 34.25"
Upper Arm: 13.75"
Scale Estimate: 33% body fat
The measurements are the same on both sides. They may be slightly different but my tape measure only goes by 1/8ths and I counted whatever was closest. As far as the scale: I don’t think it’s too far off.
On to the actual journal portion.
Day 3: The gym beat me up and called me funny names. For my walks I walk to my gym which is a little over a mile and a half away. It rained last night and I hoped the entire way there that it wouldn’t start up again. I was still sore from monday’s session but I knew I just had to work though it. I did.
I’m doing Chad’s V-Diet workouts and I happily dread each and every minute of them. I lifted as heavy as I felt I could, suffered what felt like a miniature heart attack during each rest period while trying to remember “What’s 5 plus 35 again?” and wondering if the ten seconds I had left was enough time to get in a good cry.
In the end I couldn’t get more than 21 seconds on my planks when I was supposed to go for 45. Well as heavy as I felt I could is a bit of a lie, on my last set of reverse lunges I had 10 lbs in each hand and it felt like a cop-out (I had been doing 15).
I spent a grand total of 35 min in the locker room changing because most of it I spent sitting down trying to keep my everything from shaking. About 20 min into this while eyeing my Surge like it was sent from the devil because all I wanted was some ice water (to drink or dump over my head I’m not sure) I realized that my last set of reverse lunges that I wussed out on were supposed to be hammer curls. Workout induced brain meltdown, yay.
I chugged my Surge and finished getting dressed. As soon as I got outside it started to rain. It took me 45 min to get home because I couldn’t figure out a decent stride that didn’t cause my legs to start buckling. I still had to catch myself about a half dozen times and when I got home the three steps to get to the front door seemed amazingly hard.
All in all the workouts are easy, the eating is the hard part. Mornings are fine I think it’s partially just the idea that I got through it the day before but as the day continues it gets harder. The first day I just felt like I was gorging myself at every meal and I wanted to puke. I put up an email about it, and with the new calculation I got from Chris (thanks again) I feel a lot better if a bit hungry at times.
The hardest part of the day is when my husband gets home from work. Part of our typical ritual was we’d go somewhere to eat. When he gets home is about time for one of my shakes too, so I start desperately craving something that I can actually chew. I start thinking of the things I can’t have. I think of how I look. I think of how a lot of the things I do that are social in my life revolve around food in one way or another.
And I start crying. And I feel stupid for crying but I do it anyway. My husband holds me and asks if there’s anything he can do, tells me he’s proud of me and I’m doing good so far. He reminds me and I remind myself that this isn’t going to last forever and it’s really just a short period of time. I remind myself that it’s not like I’ll never have some of the things I like now ever again and that I might not even like them anymore after I’m done. I think of some healthy options that I’ll be able to have at some of the places we like for my HSM. Then I suck it up, go have my shake and think “This isn’t so bad.”
Tomorrow I’m having Thanksgiving with my dad. I’m going to have turkey, asparagus and some butternut squash. He knows what I’m doing and I know he won’t try to pressure me into eating something I shouldn’t. I’ll really miss the mashed potatoes, gravy and stuffing (and leftovers). Me and my husband got a turkey and stuck it in the freezer. That way if I really miss everything that bad we can do a thanksgiving meal after new year’s when I’m finished with the transition portion as well. If I’m not really craving it then we have a turkey.
I’d like to finish this entry off with an excerpt from one of the emails I sent my dad yesterday. (Now keep in mind everything I own once fit me perfectly.)
I really feel I need the boot in the ass. Every time I make good changes I don’t stick with it and sometimes backslide into worse than I was doing before. About two weeks ago I actually broke down crying because it was the first time in a while I actually saw what I looked like which sparked me to get the scale and see numerically how bad I’d gotten. Now that I’m standing up straighter I can see and feel I’m starting to develop back rolls. When my jeans are fresh out of the dryer I can barely squeeze into them.
My stomach hangs over the front of them even when they’ve been broken in a little. I’m nearly constantly getting wedgies because my underwear is refusing to cover my ass. Things I haven’t worn in a while I practically need a crowbar to get into if they don’t just flat out start cutting off circulation. I don’t even shave my legs so I can use that as an excuse not to wear a bathing suit. One of the worst things about it is I can’t even feign ignorance about how I got this way, I know what the hell I did wrong. And honestly I chose to do it. I chose to eat crap constantly. I chose to keep telling myself “I’ll go to the gym tomorrow” or “I’ll start Monday.” Even after I broke down crying I nearly justified waiting til after the new year to do anything about it, thinking about all the holiday meals I’d miss. That’s part of the reason I decided to start now. I’m honestly that frustrated and pissed off with myself.
Sure It’ll be a little easier around xmas and new year’s because I’ll be on the transition period back to healthy solid meals and I’ll be able to have several servings throughout the day, but I’ll still have to make the right choices. I didn’t want to be one of those people who says they’re going to get fit for their resolution and never really does anything about it, I just wanted to do it.