My life is a joke

Not to be a complete downer, but, really, my life is a joke.

For five months, I've gone to Power Cut classes religiously, squatted and lifted and lunged for hours, and yet I look in the mirror and see the same girl who arrived in January.

I weighed 218.8 on Saturday - a frustrating number b/c it didn't drop an ounce even after a perfect diet week - and by Monday, after a few slips Sunday, I weighed 220. Perfect Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and the scale hasn't moved.

While in Power Cut on Tuesday, I spent the first half hour wondering why I was still there and if it really mattered. Of course, it was an extra- hard class (I get the feeling she's trying to weed people out), but watching myself in the mirror was very frustrating. Shouldn't I look at least a little different by now? Shouldn't the pants I wore in January be at least a little freakin' looser?

Then I attempted a run after class - for the first time in nearly a month. I have been trying so hard to get rid of these shin splints, doing all of my exercises and laying off the running, instead walking. I did three small bursts (0.35 mile) of running during my three miles, and by the end felt just fine. I was pretty happy, though still a little scared about Saturday's 10K.

One day later, a muscle behind my knee hurts when I move my leg.

Do you see the theme? I'm a joke.

There's one thing I do wonder about: sitting. Yesterday, because of an extremely hard shift (and they're more common these days), I never left my desk from 5 p.m. to 2 a.m. I'm not kidding. I never went to the bathroom (no problem b/c I hardly drank from my water bottle b/c I didn't have time). I never heated up my dinner (skipped it b/c I didn't have time). You've got to wonder what this does to a body. I've read the reports, and now I'm living the reports.

Anyway, it's pretty clear that I'm not a typical woman trying to lose weight. This blog isn't going to help anyone in that regard. So once again, I'm ending it. I hope to write when I have some running news - that's what this blog was created for anyway. But right now, I can't keep pretending I know what I'm doing. I'm not quitting Weight Watchers. I'm never going to quit trying. But when I report that I'm the same weight week after week, I feel like a failure over and over.

Take care ---

Slippy Sunday

Did good Saturday.

Slipped Sunday.

Back to the grind today.

Week 2 and I'm already frustrated?

Beginning weight: 235
Last week's weight: 218.8
This week's weight: 218.8
This week's loss: n/a
Total loss: 16.2 pounds
Left to lose: 51.8 pounds

This past week (and, really, for the past two weeks), I have followed Weight Watchers perfectly. I have never gone above my allotted points (not even using exercise points or the weekly points). I exercised three days this week. I had more fruits and vegetables than ever before. I drank a ton of water. I limited my salt.

And I lost nothing.

I'm on my way to D.C. now, where I'll be eating three meals out. That terrifies me. It especially terrifies me because I'm going into it frustrated.

I still use my mantra "one slip and you will fail." But I've got to tell you that last night - home sick - I almost went to get pizza. I told myself the mantra and I felt my brain do that half-listening thing that always gets me into trouble.

I'll report back on Monday to let you know how I did.

New status updates

I know you probably get tired of my wishy-washy-ness. I seem to change my diet "rules" every few months. But I am a work in progress. And works in progress will forever change their ways in order to make, well, progress.

So, now that I'm an official member of Weight Watchers again, I am weighing in weekly. So I will update you weekly, on Sundays.

But a little backpedaling first: I never gave you a status update for April. I was to work out at least 14 times. I worked out only 11. I also gained 0.2 pounds from the prior month by the time May 1 hit.

Now for the weekly update:

Today's weight: 218.8
January 1 weight: 235
Total weight loss for the year: 16.2

I'm happy to say that, despite my injury, I've already logged more days of exercise in May 2011 (7, as of today) than I did in May 2010 (6).

(Side note: My first big goal weight for the year was to be 217. At that point I would buy my first incentive, which was perfume, which I've been out of for awhile. If you remember, right before Easter, I got below 217. So I ordered my perfume. By the time it arrived, I had already gained my Easter weight, putting me back up past 220. So the perfume has sat on my dresser, unopened. I'm happy to see that I can finally open it in 2 pounds.)

So far so good

The new approach - using the mantra "one slip and you will fail" - has been working very well. It's been a good week. I've stuck to the program perfectly and am feeling good.

And that's a good thing because, exercise-wise, I've got a big question mark hanging over me. My shin is no better today than it was a week ago, two weeks ago. I've been doing my rehab exercises and taking it easy - no running - but after a lot of walking yesterday, it has been sore to the touch. Epic fail. There are only two weeks till my first summer race and I really want to be able to run even a tiny part of it.

I am not backing down on exercise, though. I have continued my PowerCut classes and 3-mile walks, and I tried Step this week, which was awesome and didn't hurt the shin (that I'm aware of). I will attempt 6 miles tomorrow (walking only) but stop if the shin hurts. I don't think walking is hurting it, though perhaps speed walking is a bad thing. I'll stroll if I have to, but I really don't want to lose my mileage.

Am I doing the wrong thing? I don't know. I know that the last time I had serious shin splints, I was out of running for an entire year. I don't want to repeat that. It affects my mood, my weight, my everything. So I will keep rehabbing and try to start using a foam roller again.

Now a little side note: I'm somewhat addicted to watching the TV show "Say Yes to the Dress." Not full-on addicted. I don't tape it or anything. But if I'm bored and flipping channels, I might end up watching four or five episodes in a row. I don't know why I like it. I hate wedding shows. I fear being the girl who never gets married. Perhaps it's the fashion I love. That's what I keep telling myself.

Anyway, I was pleased that they started to show plus-size brides looking for dresses. They don't treat them like abnormalities and the dresses are just as lovely as the smaller ones. (I do, however, HATE the name they chose for the show: "Big Bliss." Why did they have to go there?)

I saw an episode last night that brought me to tears. The woman trying on dresses kept apologizing for her weight. As the stylist helped her take off a dress or helped her put on a dress, the bride-to-be would say, "I'm sorry I'm so fat." I wanted to grab her by the shoulders, look her in the eyes and tell her how beautiful she was and to stop apologizing.

But I know why I was crying. It was because it's what I used to say when I was 300 pounds. At the doctor's office. While getting a massage. I'd apologize for them having to touch me. I'd apologize on planes. At restaurants when I couldn't fit in a booth. It's sad that I can't practice what I preach. It's sad that I can see the beauty in others that I can't see in myself.

And you know what they say: No one's going to love you until you can love yourself.

I think I need to turn the channel.

Step 1, Step 2, etc.

I went to a step class for the first time ever today. I was really worried b/c I am uncoordinated and my legs were still killing me from Tuesday's Power Cut "Let's do two sets each of these three kinds of squats" class. But it turned out the class wasn't bad at all. I kept up. I worked that step. I kicked and tapped and kneed. It felt great. Almost easy.

Fifteen hours later...

Going down the steps at work on my way home, I had to do the hop-down, where you don't bend your knees much as you descend. MY HAMS ARE KILLING ME!

But that's good. Until tomorrow's Power Cut class, which begins in, oh Lord, seven hours.

A new approach

Well, the past two weeks have been rough. Bad eating, bad depression, bad workouts due to shin splints/foot pain/you-name-it. One thing encouraged the other, and they all fed off one another.

Bad eating
For years now, I've tried to find the weight-loss approach that would work best for me. When I lost the 150 pounds, I did it using the cold-turkey approach. No bad foods. Ever. For two years, I never ate a cookie, a piece of cake, fast-food, real chips, etc. It worked for me. After the initial hardship of resisting temptations everywhere, I found myself not wanting them anymore. When I had my most successful weight-loss attempt since then (about three years ago), I used a different approach: I ate well five or six days of the week and then allowed myself a cheat day.

Since then, I've tried variations on the second approach. And what I'm finding is that it is just not working for me. Like the tired-old comparison of an alcoholic, if I slip just once, I fall hard. So I've decided to try cold-turkey again. I've written this mantra down: "One misstep and you will fail." I need some tough love. A tough approach.

Bad depression
The depression was a combination of many, many things. But I never felt worse than when I got ready to go work out. Every single item of workout clothing makes me look horrible. And with the warmer weather, I have fewer options, fewer ways to hide. It was so bad that, on Friday, as I was getting dressed for a spin class, I tried multiple outfits, then decided I couldn't be seen in any of them. So I didn't go.

On Saturday, the plan was to run 6 miles. But when I ran across the initial street to beat traffic, I discovered terrible pain in my left shin. No matter how slow I walked and how much I warmed up, whenever I tried to run, the pain would return. It brought me so very far down. I'd pass real runners and nearly cry. I just wanted to run. I just wanted to be one of them. And the old conflict of Fat Diana versus Running Diana occupied my entire walk. If I wanted to be the latter, I had to kick the former's butt.

Bad injuries
So I begin a new week realizing that my summer calendar full of races (5Ks to 10Ks - I already had to ditch this weekend's Marine Corps Half Marathon) is at risk if I don't work hard at rehab and taking it slow. And getting some weight off. I've brought out the old exercise bands and am working on building strength in the front of my calf. I'll continue my normal workout routine, but I'll walk instead of run and I'll back off if anything hurts.

I also joined Weight Watchers online. Unfortunately, the diet has changed so much since I was last on it, I find it's terribly time-consuming trying to figure out Points. Hopefully it will get easier.

P.S. I bought a dress this weekend I absolutely love. It fits, oddly enough, even though it has a pencil skirt. It shows too much of my arms, but I still love it. I plan on thinking about that dress through this first week back. I want it to look fabulous and a little less tummy would be helpful.

I'm still here

...just not much in the blogging mood these days.

Had a food setback last week after Easter (shocker) but am back on track. Still working out. Still breaking down (now the foot hurts so much I can't run). Still trudging along. Today's PowerCut class was hard but I truly felt like I was making progress. Still look like a blob in the mirror, though, especially next to all those twiggies.

I was reminded the other day that - despite it consuming every minute of my life - I am much more than my weight. Sometimes it's hard to remember that. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in every pound, every inch, that I forget that I'm more than what I see in the mirror. It's not a way to live - always focused on this big negative part of me.

But I'd be kidding myself if I said I was going to stop caring.