Personal Journal #16: Ain’t no rest for the wicked…
Have you ever thought that you could just get up and walk out the door and no one would noticed that you stopped working? Today is that day for me. As I was driving into the office I kept asking myself if what I was working on really served some purpose. It was one of those moments of clarity when you realize that:
A) you aren’t doing something you love
B) what you are doing isn’t contributing to the greater good, and
C) you aren’t really LIVING life, but just kind of coasting through it.
Not really the types of thoughts a person should be having in order to conquer the day. I think about my mortality all the time. I told Jason that I’m tired of waiting around for the cancer, I just wish it would happen so I could get on with treating it. Who thinks like that? (raises hand slowly)… I mean, I know I’m going to get it… my dad’s had it and they thought my mom may have had it before she died of a massive heart attack. I can’t help but think I’m going to get it too. Oh, and I have to go back to the doctor on Thursday to get the bad news about my cholesterol (I already knew my triglycerides were going to be bad, I just hope my LDL and HDL are still ok). So I’ll probably be put on a “no” fat diet (I know, I know, I need a little fat in my diet)… I’ll be eating corrugated cardboard by the end of the year.
I thought that I had another Ah Ha moment yesterday. Turns out I don’t listen to myself very well. I got up early and went exercise before 7 AM for the first time since I got out of the Army. Now…, my Ah Ha moment was when I got home and was getting ready for work. At that moment I realized that the military is using the wrong psychology to get people to work out. See, when I was in my 20’s and could do all this exercise, I was taught that working out and physical exercise was a punishment. It was something I had to do when I was in trouble. It was a tool for the NCOs to torture me and keep me away from my family. I’m sure everyone has heard the phrase, “Drop and give me 20…” Well I realized yesterday that exercise wasn’t my enemy. It is a tool for me to use to make sure my body takes care of me later on. If I want to live a longer happier life I need to get my butt in gear.
I’ve gone to gyms in the past and I always felt like I didn’t belong… I could hear the stares, “What is that fat chick doing? Why is she even bothering, odiously she doesn’t know enough to put the donuts down.” Today, I can still hear those looks as they pass through me; the difference is that I don’t let them linger in my ears. I enjoy doing the yoga classes now (even though I suck really bad at it) and I like the feeling of working up a sweat… I like that “badge of “courage” when I finish.
However I am getting really, really upset with how things have been going lately. I’ve been going to the gym, watching what I eat, taking my medicine, and using the Alli, and I keep gaining weight. I keep waiting to see the scale go down, but it keeps going up. Last week I was pretty sure I was 253, which was 3 pounds more than the week before. This morning I was 254. I don’t get it. I have been snacking more than usual, but in total it’s only about 400 calories a day, and combined with my regular food, I’m taking in only 1600 calories, and I have also been working out. The exercise should cancel out the snacking and then some. I’m only taking in about 12g of fat per meal, and when you think about that, it would seem that I’m doing everything right. I’ve lost only 15 pounds, reliably, and I don’t really think I look that different. I was so close to really breaking the 250 mark a few weeks ago, I don’t know what’s happened. I guess the really only good news about myself that I have lately is that my blood sugar seems to be well managed now with the medication and exercise.