Saturday, August 13, 2011

Anybody Got a Spare Scale??

I've made absolutely no secret about the fact that since I quit smoking 9 1/2 months ago, I have gained a horrible 30-40 pounds.  It's an average weight because I don't know exactly.  I haven't weighed myself...but I've gone from a size 6 to a size (gasp) 11-13 depending on the brand.  

I've never been one to be uber-self conscious about my body.  In fact, in grade 12 I was horribly ill and lost 40 pounds in a month (can you say anxiety??)  At 110 pounds, I can tell you that I didn't think I looked any different than when I was 150.  Now that I'm roughly 10lbs less than when I was 9 months pregnant with Q, I can see it.  I see it in my face, my stomach, my feet have gone up a size and my fingers have gone up two.  I feel uncomfortable with my body, I feel self conscious, I feel fat.

In 5 short months, my brother will be marrying his beautiful fiance, Alice.  I am excited beyond belief.  I haven't talked about it, because as a blogger who's life is basically an open book, I firmly believe other's are not.  Some stories are not mine to tell, and this is one of them.  Suffice it to say, I do not want to be the fat, bubbly sister at the wedding.  You know the one everyone looks at and thinks, "She's so cute. We all know why she's single!"  My goal is to be comfortable with my body by January.  I choose to do something about it.

Now, you have to know I have never been an athletic person.  Ever.  I used to dread gym class and then when it wasn't required that I go, I joined a girlfriend at a *ladies only* gym when I was in high school and passed out from exhaustion, literally.  I came to with the personal trainer, Goliath, I called her (her one thigh was the size of both of mine, and it was sheer muscle) standing over me, talking in slow motion, "Arrrreeeee yooooooooouuuuuuu oooooooo-kkkayyyyyyyy?"  I have never worked out since.  Every so often I'd get all  inspired and go for a walk, but it was always short lived and never really accomplished anything.

I have a gym membership.   


No, seriously.  I did.  But it's still so hilarious to me, that I have one and that I intend to use it.  In fact, I've used it!!  Twice!!

First time, I did this tidal toner.  See, running for me - while it may burn calories galore - could never ever work.  After a baby, I'm afraid my bladder control is not what it once was.  I figure under water classes gives good resistance, and guess what, guys!!  It was so much fun!  I went with Alice, we're gonna try to get through this weight loss thing together.  Plus, I'm pretty gun shy after my last incident with working out, so having someone there with me makes me feel like I can tame this beast.  Makes me feel stronger.  There is something about getting into the water, hearing the music and following steps that makes you feel like a synchronized swimmer....or at least, it made me feel like one.  I was moving my head to the left and the right, pointing my toes, smiling!!  And the instructor - if she weren't so cute, I'd hate her.  She jumps and nothing moves.  I have a little bit of a girl crush on her.  It didn't burn or feel as though I was going to die, but when I left the pool my legs were jelly.  Absolute jelly.  That's a good sign right?

I conquered the water, so what's a bike, right?  Then next day we decided to spin.  Spinning!  It sounds like fun, doesn't it?  I had no preconceived notions, let me tell you.  I've heard horror stories.  I knew it would be no walk in the park.  I knew I may die.  My one goal was to keep pedaling, just keep pedaling.  Feeling like a total fool, and a wanna-be cyclist, I walked in the room and picked the bike closest to the back, in the corner.  I couldn't even figure out how to adjust the bike, and had to ask the instructor.  She said to me, "Don't get discouraged, okay?  This is gonna be tough.  Don't get discouraged."

I went through an array of emotions, defeated first.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to take my hand towel and my water bottle and run.  Next, I felt anger.  These women, their bodies are incredible.  They've allowed themselves the opportunity to use their bodies to their maximum.  What their bodies could do was so awe-inspiring.  I was so mad at myself for not giving my body the chance to show me what it's capable of.   And so while the upped their tension and pedaled harder, I just made sure that I kept pedaling.  I did.  For one whole hour.  Two days later, my legs still ache and my butt feels like it was raped by a bicycle seat, but I'm gonna go again. I want my body to amaze me!  However, when the instructor said, "Wasn't that fun, guys?"  I can assure I was not nodding in agreement.  Who, besides her, does this because it's fun?

Now of course, my diet has to change as well.  At one point, I had a two/three chocolate bar a day habit.  I've had to squash that habit.  I'm trying to drink lots and lots of water, which is torture in itself because I hate the taste of water.  To make it a little less horrid, I put some sort of 0 calorie flavour in it.  Lots of fiber, again - not so much fun...but I've discovered I love the taste of prunes!!  Who knew!  And Oat Bran bars.  Lots of fruit and veggies.  Fish!  Lot's of that too.  As little red meat, and sugary items as possible.  Low carbs - no bread, whole wheat pasta.  But of course, I cannot resist the occasional ice cream cone or donut.  I'm not going to deprive myself, hence the exercise.

Wish me luck.  I really hope it works...

Here's the place where I give my measurements, but I can't find one single measuring tape in this damn house.  We don't have a scale, either, so I can't even tell you how much I really weigh.  I'm a size 11.  Or 13, depending on the store.  I've fit into a 10 recently, too...

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