I forgot to mention the goals for physical health and fitness:
1. Lose 100 lbs from my original weight. From 256 to 156. within 2 years, but preferably 1.
2. Walk or run up Pikes Peak (Mom wanted to do this and I went back to Buffalo before we could). Next summer.
3. Get a clean check-up from the Dr. (where he doesn't say, "lose weight") within 2 years
4. Run a marathon (Next summer)
5. Crazy: Run across the US (3,500 miles) within 5 years
6. Survival weekends/months (Think "Naked and Afraid") within 2 years
7. Ride horses again (<200 lbs). by Spring (8 months)
8. Forget to eat again (to not have thoughts of food consume my thoughts, pun intended) within 3 months.
9. Be able to defend myself physically. (emotionally is in a different goal section) within 1 year
10. Be able to pick up my husband like he can pick me up (lift 200 lbs). within 1 year.
11. Do a push-up: within 2 months.
12. Do a pull-up: within 6 months.
13. Wear a size 10 or (gasp!) smaller-Within 2 years.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Exercise
I have to confess: I feel great this morning. My thigh muscles will barely lift me from my chair, but I feel great.
I kept promises to myself. Then I exceeded those promises--for me. And I even still took care of my family. I didn't have to sacrifice one for the other, I just had to be willing to try.
Let me explain:
On a normal evening, the kids play video games, maybe come out to the living room to converse and cuddle, and I watch TV, lamenting how tired I am.
But I've been serious about this project, and part of this project is about health and fitness. So I decided that it was OK to spend $12.00 on myself to get the Kindle edition of Choose More, Lose More for Life by Chris Powell. You know, the guy on "Extreme Weight Loss".
And I'm super-glad that I did.
Why? Not just for the carb-cycling--although that was my original motivation--but for the transformation aspects of the book. The psychology of it. The whole idea that broken promises to yourself are what bring you down.
Yes, terrible things have happened in my life. Amazingly wonderful things have happened, too. And while I was always a chunky kid, I also always could walk 10 miles without a problem, climb trees all day long, chase horses, handle a bow, and do some excellent knife-work. I was amazing on a bike. I felt powerful and in control in my environment--outside, away from people.
It was when I no longer had the luxury of spending every day outdoors that the weight piled on. I pretended to still be in control of my environment--but I wasn't. I was lying to myself and breaking promises to myself, then feeling more and more trapped by every promise that broke and left me powerless and afraid.
And now I'm an adult, and still breaking promises to myself. I kept telling myself I'd "get a handle on ____," or "conquer ___". But I have no handles and I'm no conquistador. Well, the old me had no handles and was no conquistador.
Now, it's a different story.
I got the book three days ago. I've slowly walked into the program, not because I made myself, but because I wanted to. I promised myself these things: I would look in the mirror and tell myself "I am worth it"; that I would keep my promises basic, reasonable, and within my power; and that I would eat a piece of fruit every day.
And that's it. But because I've kept my promises for three days, I felt good. I felt open to talk to myself (in my head) again. And I found out that I eat because I'm afraid I'm not good enough. And I'm afraid I'm not good enough because I'm not strong. And I must not be strong because I can't protect myself. And I can't protect myself because I eat too much and I'm not strong. And someone who can't protect themselves is a burden on their community/family, so I'm not good enough. And someone who can't keep her word isn't any good, either. (I grew up in CO--personal and communal security is a big deal out here--God n' Guns).
But keeping my word to myself meant that I was a good person, or at least a worthwhile person. Telling myself that I'm a worthwhile person meant the inner me could come out and play, and she startled me: She told me to get off my duff and get strong.
Powell's book told me to only promise myself 5 min of cardio. So I said, "OK, I'll do the warm-up and the stretch, and then just five minutes of the Fit Test (Insanity)." And I did the whole thing. Let me say that again:
I did the whole thing.
Then I found the numbers from when my husband and I did the Fit Test in Buffalo, and I saw I had demolished my previous numbers. Doubled and tripled them. Not only am I 17 pounds lighter than I was then, but I am twice as strong. I actually demolished about half of my husband's numbers, and he's the fittest person I know.
Ok, that was amazing, right?
But guess what happened after that? I asked the kids if they wanted to go swimming. And they did. And we had a blast. I've been trying to lure them into the pool, and then we do "fun" things like racing across the length of the pool, or run through the shallow end as a race, or "tow" one another through the water. It's sneaky exercise. And we did all of those things. Plus, I did some laps. And I got in the hot tub to ease my muscles, because at this point, they were fatiguing pretty badly. I love it when my muscles fatigue. It means I really worked them. I loved in High School when I lifted weights, too.
And what happened after that?
I did the dishes.
What!? Yes. I did them. All of them. And then I was sleepy so I went to bed.
And in the morning I did a 9-Minute Mission, even though I hadn't promised myself I would. And I still made my honey his coffee. And I still got dressed. And I planned out my food for the day.
I feel great. I feel Eudaimonia right now: I am living right. I made a wise investment in myself, and it's paying dividends. I'm doing right by my family while I am making decisions for myself.
All because of three promises, which were kept. I actually wanted to help myself, to choose myself, once I had kept a promise to myself.
I choose me; I choose a good life.
I kept promises to myself. Then I exceeded those promises--for me. And I even still took care of my family. I didn't have to sacrifice one for the other, I just had to be willing to try.
Let me explain:
On a normal evening, the kids play video games, maybe come out to the living room to converse and cuddle, and I watch TV, lamenting how tired I am.
But I've been serious about this project, and part of this project is about health and fitness. So I decided that it was OK to spend $12.00 on myself to get the Kindle edition of Choose More, Lose More for Life by Chris Powell. You know, the guy on "Extreme Weight Loss".
And I'm super-glad that I did.
Why? Not just for the carb-cycling--although that was my original motivation--but for the transformation aspects of the book. The psychology of it. The whole idea that broken promises to yourself are what bring you down.
Yes, terrible things have happened in my life. Amazingly wonderful things have happened, too. And while I was always a chunky kid, I also always could walk 10 miles without a problem, climb trees all day long, chase horses, handle a bow, and do some excellent knife-work. I was amazing on a bike. I felt powerful and in control in my environment--outside, away from people.
It was when I no longer had the luxury of spending every day outdoors that the weight piled on. I pretended to still be in control of my environment--but I wasn't. I was lying to myself and breaking promises to myself, then feeling more and more trapped by every promise that broke and left me powerless and afraid.
And now I'm an adult, and still breaking promises to myself. I kept telling myself I'd "get a handle on ____," or "conquer ___". But I have no handles and I'm no conquistador. Well, the old me had no handles and was no conquistador.
Now, it's a different story.
I got the book three days ago. I've slowly walked into the program, not because I made myself, but because I wanted to. I promised myself these things: I would look in the mirror and tell myself "I am worth it"; that I would keep my promises basic, reasonable, and within my power; and that I would eat a piece of fruit every day.
And that's it. But because I've kept my promises for three days, I felt good. I felt open to talk to myself (in my head) again. And I found out that I eat because I'm afraid I'm not good enough. And I'm afraid I'm not good enough because I'm not strong. And I must not be strong because I can't protect myself. And I can't protect myself because I eat too much and I'm not strong. And someone who can't protect themselves is a burden on their community/family, so I'm not good enough. And someone who can't keep her word isn't any good, either. (I grew up in CO--personal and communal security is a big deal out here--God n' Guns).
But keeping my word to myself meant that I was a good person, or at least a worthwhile person. Telling myself that I'm a worthwhile person meant the inner me could come out and play, and she startled me: She told me to get off my duff and get strong.
Powell's book told me to only promise myself 5 min of cardio. So I said, "OK, I'll do the warm-up and the stretch, and then just five minutes of the Fit Test (Insanity)." And I did the whole thing. Let me say that again:
I did the whole thing.
Then I found the numbers from when my husband and I did the Fit Test in Buffalo, and I saw I had demolished my previous numbers. Doubled and tripled them. Not only am I 17 pounds lighter than I was then, but I am twice as strong. I actually demolished about half of my husband's numbers, and he's the fittest person I know.
Ok, that was amazing, right?
But guess what happened after that? I asked the kids if they wanted to go swimming. And they did. And we had a blast. I've been trying to lure them into the pool, and then we do "fun" things like racing across the length of the pool, or run through the shallow end as a race, or "tow" one another through the water. It's sneaky exercise. And we did all of those things. Plus, I did some laps. And I got in the hot tub to ease my muscles, because at this point, they were fatiguing pretty badly. I love it when my muscles fatigue. It means I really worked them. I loved in High School when I lifted weights, too.
And what happened after that?
I did the dishes.
What!? Yes. I did them. All of them. And then I was sleepy so I went to bed.
And in the morning I did a 9-Minute Mission, even though I hadn't promised myself I would. And I still made my honey his coffee. And I still got dressed. And I planned out my food for the day.
I feel great. I feel Eudaimonia right now: I am living right. I made a wise investment in myself, and it's paying dividends. I'm doing right by my family while I am making decisions for myself.
All because of three promises, which were kept. I actually wanted to help myself, to choose myself, once I had kept a promise to myself.
I choose me; I choose a good life.
Monday, July 15, 2013
A Week
One week, and every major struggle is cast in sharp relief.
First: The influence of Others on the Eudaimonia Project. And on the heels of that: Anxiety over the future during the Eudaimonia Project. And then after that, the willful choosing to live against the Eudaimonia Project.
I swear, the Devil is inside of us.
The vexation of all of our plans just lives and breathes inside us. We are our own problem. I am my own worst enemy in this project.
Almost right after my last post, my husband said something to which I flipped out. There's no point going into details, but it was one of those insecure moments where you are not sure if things are going to tip very badly, and you're half-afraid they tipped into "bad" when you weren't looking.
We got over it; we talked through it, which is generally how we handle everything, but not before I was completely wrecked emotionally. And when I'm wrecked emotionally, I hide and I eat.
And eat.
And hide.
My back actually hurts from being curled up on the couch most of the weekend. And my intestines will never forgive me for bingeing.
So then, I nearly wrecked my own birthday celebrations by being afraid of the future. My fears were completely unrelated to what had happened before: just random fears of not living up to people's expectations of me. Being afraid that the elaborate (to me) celebration was a show, and maybe people secretly hated me.
Luckily, hubby was there to rescue the day again for me.
And then for most of the weekend, I gave myself permission to do everything I shouldn't do, because it was my birthday weekend, I was mad about not having a lot of money, and it had been so emotional. So I chose against my project.
And I feel awful. Not guilty, but just sick and tired and disappointed in a nearly "wasted" weekend.
On the plus side, the project has already heightened my sense of family, so that I want to spend more active, face-to-face time with my family. I wanted to write. I did some things on my "nagging tasks" list. I wasn't a total lump on a log.
But now, it's back to business: the business of learning to be happy. And I'm so happy to be back.
First: The influence of Others on the Eudaimonia Project. And on the heels of that: Anxiety over the future during the Eudaimonia Project. And then after that, the willful choosing to live against the Eudaimonia Project.
I swear, the Devil is inside of us.
The vexation of all of our plans just lives and breathes inside us. We are our own problem. I am my own worst enemy in this project.
Almost right after my last post, my husband said something to which I flipped out. There's no point going into details, but it was one of those insecure moments where you are not sure if things are going to tip very badly, and you're half-afraid they tipped into "bad" when you weren't looking.
We got over it; we talked through it, which is generally how we handle everything, but not before I was completely wrecked emotionally. And when I'm wrecked emotionally, I hide and I eat.
And eat.
And hide.
My back actually hurts from being curled up on the couch most of the weekend. And my intestines will never forgive me for bingeing.
So then, I nearly wrecked my own birthday celebrations by being afraid of the future. My fears were completely unrelated to what had happened before: just random fears of not living up to people's expectations of me. Being afraid that the elaborate (to me) celebration was a show, and maybe people secretly hated me.
Luckily, hubby was there to rescue the day again for me.
And then for most of the weekend, I gave myself permission to do everything I shouldn't do, because it was my birthday weekend, I was mad about not having a lot of money, and it had been so emotional. So I chose against my project.
And I feel awful. Not guilty, but just sick and tired and disappointed in a nearly "wasted" weekend.
On the plus side, the project has already heightened my sense of family, so that I want to spend more active, face-to-face time with my family. I wanted to write. I did some things on my "nagging tasks" list. I wasn't a total lump on a log.
But now, it's back to business: the business of learning to be happy. And I'm so happy to be back.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
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