Crash Site

I fell off the wagon.

Well, I didn't so much fall off as I cannon-balled off, tangled myself in the wheel spokes and got dragged over the side of the proverbial dieting cliff. Now that the vultures have stopped circling and the dust has settled, I'm trying to piece together my broken pride and get back on this &$*%#^@! wagon ONCE AGAIN. When I mess up, I go big.

First of all, it probably goes without saying that I didn't finish the juice fast. I made it through Day Seven, which was last Monday, and then I literally could not stomach the thought of another drop of vegetable grossness passing over my lips. Big change in attitude from the way it was going in my last post! I don't know what happened but when I hit that wall, I just couldn't keep going. I ate sparingly and fearfully for the next two days, paranoid that the return to actually chewing food would result in immediate weight gain. Then the bomb went off, ignited by the simple consumption of two cookies from Subway last Thursday. In the past five days, I have become the ultimate cautionary tale for what can happen when you let a little sugar hit the system after having been deprived of it for about three weeks (counting my diet before The Great Juice Disaster of 2011). Throw in the added bonus of emotionally charged situations going on in my life recently and unending worry about things that are out of my control, and you have the ultimate environment for breeding fat cells at breakneck speed. Oh, and did I mention my complete omission of workouts during that whole time?

So now I'm aware that I have six weeks left in the 8-Week Challenge. My classic pattern of starting strong and then failing miserably has begun, but I really want to salvage what I can from the wreckage and still create something useful. Because right now what I feel I've created is a monster. A sugar-crazed, sad and nearly defeated monster.

Nearly defeated. Not entirely.

I confessed my transgressions to Bo today and yes, there were tears. Couldn't be helped. Unfortunately, I'm not a cute cryer, so I'm sure that was as painful for Bo as it was for me! I told him that I hoped being back in the gym after a three-day weekend would help shake me up and fumbled my way through my ten-millionth promise that I would do better. Man, I'm so exhausted from sounding like a broken record. On my lunch hour, I made my way to the spin room with my bright and shiny new spin shoes. I have now attempted to wear them in three different classes, and all three times there has been some sort of clip/pedal drama that resulted in me putting back on my tennis shoes for the remainder of class. I decided today that I would attempt to tame both the shoes and the monster. I lost myself in the rhythms of the bike and let go. Let go of all of it. Gave it up to the mural of the Colorado Monument ahead of me, tamed those shoes and forgave myself. I raced, I climbed, I flew.

I reminded myself: I can still fly.

Day Five of Juice

[caption id="attachment_87" align="alignright" width="200" caption="Starting Weight: 203 lbs."][/caption]
As I'm still learning how to use this blog site, I'm finally figuring out how to post pictures. I thought I'd put up the photo that inspired me to start this journey. It's from early Spring of this year, and those thighs were a big wake-up call. Also, I forgot to post my beginning stats from Day One of the 8-Week Challenge! I can't remember my measurements, but my weight was 194, and my body fat was 38.2% (I think). Yikes! The good news is I'm down nine pounds from the start of this blog, so although the progress is MUCH slower than I would prefer, it's progress nonetheless! Onward...

I'm obsessing about cheeseburgers and Cheez-its! The moment one of those two things pops into my head, which has been constantly the past two days, my salivary glands go into overdrive! Big, fat juicy cheeseburgers on ridiculously thick buns and the salty loveliness of crunching into those little orange crackers - I mean, HELLO! I'm guessing my latest "Junk Food Fantasy" (I have lots of them) is centered around burgers and crackers because I feel like I'm turning into a walking, talking plant. I'm carb-starved, meat-starved and sugar-starved, and I'm surprised I haven't had a complete breakdown. I've discovered the thing about the documentary that prompted this whole drama is that the people in it truly make it look easy. As if downing four 16 oz. glasses of pure vegetable torture a day is not the worst experience one can have, food-wise. Well, I'm here to tell you, it's pretty dang close.

Granted, I don't like vegetables. NOT. ONE. BIT. Even eating a salad is nightmarish for me, and my version of salad usually consists of lettuce, cheese, meat and ranch on the side into which I will virtuously dip the tines of my fork as if I'm saving a million calories. If I'm feeling really healthy, I'll down a low-sodium V8, and that pretty much covers my normal vegetable intake. I guarantee with this juice diet, I've had more vegetables in one day than I've probably had in the past two years. The morning meal is great because the juice is just different fruits and a little something extra like ginger or mint. I've started tossing a couple of handfuls of spinach into them and I can't even taste it. It's the rest of the day's lineup that reminds me I have an overactive gag reflex. For example, here's a dinner juice recipe: 3 large red beets, 2 medium carrots, 2 stalks celery, 4 plum tomatoes, 4 cups parsley, 1 jalapeno, and 12 red radishes. And that's one of the more tolerable concoctions! These vegetables are seriously unappetizing to me on their own, let alone combined together into a room-temperature drink of madness! I've been doing it but it has been extremely difficult - I have to hold my nose and chug water alongside the juice just to get it down! However, I have noticed that I feel pretty great. YES, I'M ADMITTING IT. There's a small possibility it's got something to do with the veggies...

The first few days are definitely sluggish, but I'm now at the end of Day Five and I know my body is changing. My engagement ring keeps slipping around my finger and I swear my wrists have gotten smaller this week! Now, to transfer some of the fat loss from areas I don't worry about to the over-abundance of areas I do worry about! Thighs, belly, etc. - c'mon vegetables, fix me! I did get to the point two days ago where I felt extremely sick and really wanted to quit, but I've been doing some pretty decent workouts while operating on a severe protein shortage. I decided to take Bo's advice and incorporate two eggs in the morning and 4 oz. of chicken or fish at night. I really wanted to be hardcore and just do the juicing, but after feeling so sick, biting into that first plain piece of chicken was like biting into Heaven. A Heaven made of chicken!

The good news is I'm still in. Still sticking to it and not quitting. All I have to do is make it through next Friday and I'm done. It will technically be an 11-day cleanse by then, but I can do it. My kitchen smells like a compost pit and we have more than our fair share of fruit flies meandering about, but so far it really has been worth it. It's expensive and time-consuming to prepare, but today I'm wearing a pair of jeans I haven't fit into since January. It's little victories like that which will keep me chugging 'til I can chug no more!

Six more days. Six more days. Six more days.

Great Start, So Far

Day Three of the 8-Week Challenge and so far, I’m feeling great!  As long as I can stay away from injuries, stress and candy, I should be golden!  I survived the “Before” picture trauma and now I will focus on making sure I have the best “After” picture I can possibly come up with.  Oh yeah, and the benefits of lower weight and better health – as if I could forget that mission.  I’ve recently had a handful of people tell me they’ve been following this blog, from my best friends to colleagues to Gold’s Gym members that I hadn’t met before.  I am so very grateful for the support and the interest, and I just wanted to say thanks to anyone who is reading The Great Shape Project!  I love to write and I’d also love to rock a pair of skinny jeans, so this blog helps me indulge future possibilities.  It's also been so helpful for me to share what I go through with my weight.  I've been used to living with shame about it and I find now that it's a little easier to be open than to hide.  Confronting my demons with this blog has taken away some of their scariness, and hopefully will make it easier to defeat them.

Speaking of sharing, here is the latest diet update: I'm doing a ten-day juice cleanse based on a documentary I saw called “Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead.”  It's about a man who was inspired (and inspired others) to consume nothing but juiced fruits and vegetables for 60 days.  He lost a little less than 100 pounds and went off all of the medications he was taking for things like high blood pressure and high cholesterol.  His transformation, mentally as well as physically, was astounding, as was the transformation of the trucker he befriended along the way.  I highly recommend this documentary as it is an incredible testament to the benefits of a diet including a wide, colorful variety of fruits and vegetables.  It got me so fired up, I ran right out and got a juicer and a whole mess of things I never would have purchased before, like Swiss Chard, beets, kale and ginger root.  Armed with a bunch of recipes I found online, I've made it my mission to follow a juice diet (with some added protein along the way as advised by Bo, the Super Trainer) for ten days and see what happens.  I would really love to do it for 30 days, but honestly, there is no way I can go that long.  To say that I'm not fond of vegetables is putting it very sweetly, and I know there will come a point - not very far away, I'm afraid - at which I will buckle under the pressure of greens, greens and more greens.  I've already had to plug my nose while drinking one concoction I made, and it's only the second day!  I'm a bit of a child, I know, but only when it comes to things that are good for me!  I also had to call my sister and ask her for prep tips since many of the veggies I bought are completely foreign to me.  Bo is on board and very supportive, and my sweet fiance has agreed to make my juices for me in exchange for his release from doing the cleanse with me.  I feel a little tired and I definitely have to get used to the whole concept of drinking all of my meals for ten straight days, but I'm really determined to see it through and see if it makes a noticeable difference in the way I feel.

 I will keep you posted.  Down the hatch!

 

 

 

 

 

Nerves

Well, I've chewed off all of my fingernails and my hair is graying so quickly that I can't color it fast enough.  The 8-Week Challenge must be around the corner...

AHHH!  I'm so nervous this time around!  Why?  The only thing I can think of is that maybe I'm ready to actually compete this time, and admitting that SCARES. ME. TO. DEATH.  Instead of waiting to fail, as I have mentioned before is my tendency, I kind of want to see what I can really do.  Oh my gosh, this feels weird!  I'm not the person who admits they might actually be capable of losing weight - in a contest, no less - and even doing fairly well in that contest!  Are you kidding me?  That's right up there with people finding out how much I weigh - for real.  Oh, wait.  Ahem.  People DO know how much I weigh.  I slapped that information right up in black and white in my first post!  And now that I think about it, now that I've made it public, I've removed what would normally be shame from that number and realized it's just that.  A number.  Not only that, but it's a number I can subtract from at any time!  What?!?  I have the power to change this number, this cloak of shame I've worn around me to make me invisible?  "Absolutely!" is the answer to that.  I no longer want to be invisible.  I don't want to hide in the back of the family pictures and constantly tug at my shirt as if every pull disguises the rolls.  Because guess what?  Tugging and rearranging and shifting DOESN'T DISGUISE THE ROLLS.  I don't want to miss pool parties because of how I look in a swimsuit and wear sweltering pants in 98-degree weather because I hate my thighs and those little fat pockets around my knees.  And I definitely don't want fat pockets around my knees!!  I mean, what is that ABOUT??

I'm actually a bit competitive.  Not in an "in your face bragging or pouting" kind of way, but rather in a more internal sense.  I'm the person who suggests playing H-O-R-S-E because you don't really have to have any actual basketball skills, and then I secretly fume when I lose.  I'm the one who plays Cranium and laughs at my horrible artistic ability on the outside while discreetly throwing eye daggers to the person who could not figure out that - HELLO - I was OBVIOUSLY sculpting a DOG out of that clay!  And uh, I'm the one who participates in the Jacob's Ladder contest because "I really think I can take these guys!" and then I'm devastated to come in 12th out of 12 competitors!  So, perhaps a bit misguided in my competitiveness, but competitive nonetheless.  This time,  I face my most ruthless opponent: self-doubt.  A loathsome beast with very sneaky tactics that shows no mercy when going in for the win.  But I have some sneaky tactics of my own and I'm pulling out the big guns.  I'm reluctant to call it confidence at this point, so for right now we'll call it focus.  Something I had been completely lacking in my first two Challenges and which I now feel has planted firm roots.

I'm anxious to discover not only what grows from those roots, but what blooms.  See you at the starting line!

8-Week Challenge!

Gold's Gym is getting ready to start its annual 8-Week Challenge this month, with starting dates set for the 19th and the 26th.  Bo has informed me that I will be participating.  I have informed Bo that I will be cowering in a corner, rocking back and forth in terror at the thought of having to YET AGAIN squeeze into a bikini for the "Before" picture.

The Challenges and I do not get along.  I have participated in two so far: the 8-Week Challenge in Fall of 2010, and this past Spring's 12-Week Challenge.  I didn't complete either Challenge, due to illness during the first one and due to power-eating my way though boxes of Mike and Ikes during the second one.  If, in fact, the goal for each of those Challenges had been to see who could GAIN the most weight and change their bodies for the worse, well then, I'd be a two-time champion!  But back to my previous dread: the pictures.  This upcoming Challenge will signify the third time that I've jammed, crammed and smushed myself into three fabric triangles of torture in order to be forever captured on film.  Film that I pray never falls into the hands of anyone who may not like me much.  (CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT HORROR??)  Not only will this be the third "Before" picture, it will also be the one in which I am the biggest.  Talk about humiliating.  Since I have significantly expanded my waistline at the start of each challenge rather than having gone in the other, much-preferred direction, you can see why I've got a small issue with starting this whole mess again.

However, start the whole mess again I shall.  The shine still hasn't worn off of the shoes I bought for the last challenge, so once I get past the bikini part, I should be okay.  It would be a really nice feeling to complete a Challenge FOR ONCE, and to have lost pounds instead of gaining.  To finally have an actual "After" picture!!  Unfortunately, I've become quite used to starting something and then quitting before I really give myself the chance to succeed.  That's not how I want to be, and that's certainly not behavior I want to exhibit to my daughter.  She deserves better than that.  She deserves a strong role model in her mother, showing her that truly wanting great things for herself is the first step to actually getting them.  I hadn't believed that I was worth the effort before, but now I've come around and time is of the essence.  If I have to crowbar myself into a bikini to show my Isla that healthy change is good change, than I will do it.  Not happily.  Not without some tears, but I will do it.

If anyone out there is thinking of joining the 8-Week Challenge and seriously on the fence because of the "Before" picture, I get it.  I feel your pain and I'm here to tell you, if I can do it, then so can you.  Line up with me and we'll do it together.  Let's rip the bandaid off so that we can truly begin to heal the wounds underneath.  So many of us need this and if we stick together, we can all make it.  And at the end, when the bikinis (or Speedos) mock us with their taunts, we will wear them with confidence - maybe even some swagger! - and fabric triangles of torture will no longer tell us who we are.

Wide Awake Now

Two nights ago, I had the craziest dream.  The kind of dream that wakes you up in the middle of the night and leaves you breathing a huge sigh of relief once you realize it didn't really happen.  I'm pretty convinced that I had this particular dream due to some underlying anxiety over my training session I had with Bo earlier that day.  I will tell you about the session, but first, the dream:

Bo is always hammering home to me that I've got to get in some protein in the afternoon to keep me full and to restore my energy, especially after a workout.  So I dreamt that I finished up a particularly brutal training session with him and headed off to make my protein shake.  In my dream, the gym is virtually empty so there is no one around anywhere.  I'm making my standard chocolate protein shake when I reach down into this super-sized carton of french fries and begin piling them into my shake!  As I'm doing this, suddenly all of our personal trainers are showing up around me but I'm oblivious to it as I continue to load up fries from this bottomless carton.  Suddenly I look up to notice Bo coming around the corner, and everything goes into slow motion mode as he notices what I'm doing.  He's yelling out, "Nooooooooo!" and elbowing his way through the trainers, and in a panic, I start frantically taking the fries out of the blender and trying to hide them.  By the time he gets to me, I  am a huge mess and I have piles of smoothie-covered french fries hanging out of my pockets!  Bo's face is bright-red with fury and he grabs my blender, holds it up in the air and points to me.  "Do you see, people?  Do you finally get what I have to deal with with this woman?!?"  I start crying and in an attempt to defend myself, I begin explaining that I was trying to get my carbs in that I didn't have that morning.  Bo yells out, "What world do you live in that you think putting greasy fries in a protein shake is a good way to get in your carbs?"  I stand there in silence as all of the trainers are looking me up and down like I'm some sort of pariah, and then I woke up.

Wow, Dream!  Is that crazy or what?  I know without a doubt that the precursor to that dream was my training session that day - Thursday.  That was the day Bo had set my goal to 194, and guess who was firmly planted at 203?  I told him I hadn't felt well and I was just eating all carbs to settle my stomach.  I wasn't working out at all and I wasn't watching what I ate because so many things sounded unappealing to me, and then it was just a string of excuses beyond that.  We started our workout and I could just feel the disappointment radiating off of Bo.  He was quiet and then finally said, "When do you think you are going to start taking this seriously?"  Not to make me feel bad.  Not to attack me.  Simply a question to find out the truth.  If I hadn't been doing dumbbell raises with my head down, he would have seen me crying.  "This is your weight loss journey, Amanda.  You've already said that you don't like where you are, you don't like your clothes being too tight, you don't like feeling bad about yourself - so why do you keep sabotaging yourself?"   Humiliation scalded over me like hot lava.  There are so many reasons behind self-sabotage and I have become a total expert at it.  Every time I start seeing small successes, it's like I know I'm going to screw-it up eventually, so why not just get a head start?  Truly, I don't want to think that way because I know nothing good happens with an attitude like that.  I have a lot of things to figure out - a lot - but I know that I never want to feel that way again.  To feel unworthy of a better life, of a thinner body, and of feeling amazing about myself.  The way I felt that day was pretty much the complete opposite of amazing.

I told Bo, "Well, if you're thinking of firing me, you can't because I already paid for all of my sessions, so ha!"  To which he replied that he has never fired someone and he doesn't want to start now.  Relieved, I just explained that I'm sick of the excuses, too.  The stories, the lies, the fiction that I create about my current state of health.  I going around acting like no one's going to call me out, but that is precisely what Bo did, and thank goodness he did it.  I don't want to keep screwing up, promising that I'll start over "tomorrow, after So-and-So's party, after this upcoming birthday, after Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas," blah, blah, blah.

I started paying attention that moment.  Really, really PAYING ATTENTION.  The light bulb has come on.  Not with a flicker, but with a strobe-light intensity.  Something has shifted and something has begun.  After four weeks of jacking around and not taking it seriously, I see just how serious I need to be.  The excuses have been replaced with focus, and now when I say I will not waver, there is no little voice in my head claiming otherwise.

I am finally going in the direction I need to be going, and I will be running full-blast to that finish line.  No more "French Fries as Carbs in the Smoothies" excuses!!!

Almost Fall!

Ahhhh, today!  This moment. This morning.  This new start.  Have I mentioned that I love September?  I love Fall in general - it's my favorite season - and every September trumpets the advent of change.  Maybe it's a holdover from the days of new Trapper Keepers on which to scribble the names of my latest crushes and the new clothes to show off as I'd start the next school year.  It could be the anticipation of the endless colors as the trees begin to morph into their last and most beautiful phase, shedding their leaves and waiting to reveal their new greenery in the Spring.   It might be simply the change in the air as the weather cools, bringing the promised fragrance of burning wood in cozy fires, hot apple cider and cinnamon-scented pinecones.

Whatever it is, I will revel in it and begin again myself.  Opportunities for change lay in store for me if I'm only willing to take them, and I'm so very ready.  In light of last time's gloom and doom - and admittedly, after feeling quite sorry for myself for more than a few days -  I have decided to cast aside the negativity and begin September  with five things I'm grateful for in regards to this little weight-loss journey of mine.  Here goes:

1. My body.  I know it seems silly, given my near-hysterical rant in my last post, but I'm grateful for my body.  It moves freely, unencumbered by any disease, malady or injury that would make it difficult to do otherwise.  It does what I tell it and sometimes, it even does what Bo tells it!  I can take a walk when I want to take a walk and do any number of other things whenever the mood strikes me (except pull-ups).  I am grateful for my body because I know how lucky I am to have one that works.


2. My sister.  I am grateful for my sister because she has listened to my weight dramas over and over, for probably longer than either of us cares to remember, and she looks at it with a fresh set of eyes and new words of advice each time.  She is so sane and wise that I often find myself wondering who is actually the big sister.


3. Spanx.  I am grateful for Spanx,  If you don't know what I'm talking about, you either don't need it (LUCKY!) or you just haven't been introduced to it yet.  Miracle worker.


4. My job.  I am very well aware that I'm extremely lucky to have an amazing gym available to me at all times, with state-of-the-art equipment, a wide variety of fun and interesting classes, and a ridiculously supportive team of people who only want to help others get healthy and improve their quality of life.  I love the role that I get to play in making that happen, and in turn the people who I meet become the very same who cheer me on through my own victories.


5. My own tenacity.  I know that no matter how difficult it gets, or how much I want to throw myself down in a temper-tantrum to rival any two-year old's when I can't get that scale to move, I also know that ultimately, I will keep trying.  I have to, and I want this.

Here's to September!