Friday, September 20, 2013

Train, Train, Train

Tonight's training session was brutal.  I'm down to seven sessions left with Justin (I signed up for 60) and in six months I've lost about 18 pounds.  Okay, technically I've lost twenty-six.  And gained six.  And lost two. And so on...

He kicked my butt today.  Squats and lunges as always.  And dead lifts, my personal favorite, along with rows and jump pull-ups.  I felt like I was starting all over again.  Just when I think.....I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire...Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar!  

Sorry, got carried away there.

As I was saying, I start to think I can conquer any physical challenge he throws my way and I quickly realize HE'S UPPING THE ANTE.  And what the heck??  Why does this still hurt?  Why do I still have to fight myself?  Mind over matter? PSHAW.... More like, holy CRAAAAP this is tough!

The plateaus are getting on my nerves.  I no longer look at the scale.  I can't handle the up and down.  Lose, gain, lose, lose, GAIN.  Gah.  I'm so over it.

Yes, my clothes fit better.  Yes, I feel healthier.  I can squat my 4-year-old. I've even done a few lunges holding him over my head.  This is is stuff I couldn't have done six months ago.

Wednesday afternoon I had my annual physical.  Dr. A scheduled labs that morning.  My blood draw was traumatic as usual because I clearly do not have veins in my arms.  The phlebotomist was kind enough not to experimentally poke me, and instead took blood from my hand.

Later that day I wore the gown and found my perch on the table covered in crinkly paper.  Oh, the joys.

My doctor was happy to see that my weight was down overall since April, but I had gained 5 pounds since my last visit in June (when I was very sick with vertigo and dizziness).  He also gave me my lab results.  My cholesterol is down, I cut my triglycerides in half and my glucose has dropped significantly.  My blood pressure is down, too.  The systolic number was only slightly raised but I attribute this to white coat syndrome.  I can't help it.  Doctors and clinics and hospitals make me nervous.

Dr. A said I'm doing everything right.  I can't expect to lose it all overnight.  To hear this man tell me I'm doing a great job, and to stick with it?  Totally worth the pain and torture.  Okay, so it's not torture in itself...but you get my drift.

So I just keep with it.  I need to up my cardio, he says.  And he's right.  Justin says the same thing.  It's just a matter of making time to do it.  Between work and school and kids and's complicated.  But I can do this.  I've come a long way, but I still have a long way to go.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Back to Personal Training, Again

It's been more than a year since I blogged about my weight loss journey.  Mostly because after group training last summer, life got in the way and I didn't work out for weeks.  Months even.  After the new year, I went into a fitness frenzy and worked out every day for two weeks straight.  And then I fizzled out.  Again.

It wasn't until April of this year that I really took the time to evaluate my fitness goals.  I knew I wanted to shed those pesky pounds (all 100 of them), but I didn't have the motivation to do this alone.  I told my friend Dave (and former trainer) that I needed help and that I was ready to commit to personal training.

Dave referred me to the fitness coordinator at my gym. Tiffany sat me down and shared with me all the lies I've been told my whole life.  BMI is bullshit, people.  Pardon the language but it's true.  We did a body fat analysis using a body fat analyzer that measures your body fat with a micro-electrical current.  Basically, I held this little machine like a scared Driver's Ed student holds a steering wheel.  It came back with information such as body fat and muscle percentages, and we calculated exactly how many pounds of fat I was carrying around.

My doctor had always told me that based on my height of 5'5" tall, I should weight between 120 and 135 pounds which would put me into a healthy BMI range.  After the body fat analysis, it turns out, I had 137 pounds of muscle in my body.  I can never weigh less than this number or I'd be dead. And because our bodies need fat to survive, a safe and healthy weight for me is closer to 150 pounds.  Yes, you read that right.  Not 120 pounds of skin and bones, but 150 pounds of toned muscle with about 15 pounds of fat.  I know that sounds crazy.  Fifteen pounds of fat, you're thinking? Don't panic.  That's only 10% of body weight.  It sounded nuts to me, too.  All my life I thought 150 pounds was F-A-T.  I would have cringed to read that number on the scale in high school.  But I realized that weight is a number.  It does not define health.

Tiffany also took measurements and we discovered that most of my muscle is in my legs.  I'm designed to run (and I HATE RUNNING) and have the body for it.  She actually said I'm lucky to be built the way I am. I thought she was feeding me lines, but I've realized that when I was a runner I did enjoy it.  I miss it now, but it's been a painful thing to get back to.  I'm dealing with shin splints like never before.  I will get this down again.  I wish I hadn't quit, but I'm determined to run again.

That day in April was the day I signed up for 60 personal training sessions.  My trainer's name is Justin.  He's 22 but he's very knowledgeable.  And patient.  Thank GOD for that.  I don't think I could handle someone screaming at me.  I've got 20 sessions left and I've lost 24 pounds since March.  That's amazing.

The journey continues.