Picking Up the Pieces After I’ve Let Myself Go
I have too many “reasons” for why I haven’t been pushing myself to exercise these last couple months. Some, like the smoke, were real but others were just excuses.
And what’s the result? I’m 10 lbs up (officially overweight again) and I look like the Pillsbury Doughboy’s sister.
I’m not happy.
I tried to keep up with strength training while on vacation but that lasted all of one week. Smoke’s gone (hopefully for good) though there is a hint of stink in the air. My plan was to start exercising again on Monday. Fresh week, fresh start.
So much for that.
In a good way.
Sunday took my husband, son, and I out to a park because it was beautiful outside. Cool breeze, lower temps (translation: lower than mid-90s), blue sky. My son had his bike, my husband had my son’s scooter, and I had my running shoes.
Knowing my son’s speed, I thought I’d get a nice little jog and walk. I did not take into account my husband’s ability to push. He raced ahead on the scooter, my son pedaled his little heart out to catch him, and I got to sprint to keep up with the both of them.
It went something like this:
jog, walk, jog, sprint!!!, walk, jog, sprint!!!, walk, jog, sprint!!!, jog, REST to look at construction, jog, walk, jog, run, jog, walk, etc…
On and on till my extra weight and my atrophied muscles screamed in protest. Actually, it was my knees that did the screaming and the cramp in my side. A lot of the walking was uphill though some of it was jogging (almost always pushing a bike…even while jogging).
So I started my exercise one day earlier.
Today I neglected to go to the park despite my plans. But wouldn’t you know, when we went to the library a dvd collection screaming INSANITY!!! stared me right in the face when I past by the rows of dvds after looking for a book that wasn’t there. Insanity came home with me and I began with the Fit Test. It went as follows:
1st Insanity Fit Test:
- switch kicks – 41
- power jacks – 40
- power knees – 93
- power jumps – 20
- globe jumps – 7
- suicide jumps – 5
- throw up in toilet
- push-up jacks – 0
- low plank obliques – 0
Why 0 for the last 2 moves? Because I gave up about 1 minute after throwing up. I felt so sick to my stomach. My face looked like something like a beet. Now I know why people say “beet red” for a person who’s really red. It’s a dark red and it doesn’t look nice as a skin color. For me it was accompanied by profuse sweating and the overwhelming urge to vomit.
That is my cue to stop no matter how much I want to keep going which I didn’t in this case so it was convenient.
So I walked around to cool down and get my breathing under control but it wasn’t until I was nearly done with my shower afterwards that the urge to throw up went away. For those of you out there who say I’m insane for liking fitness, this dvd proves I’m not insane because I hated every second of it.
At first I was extremely disappointed with myself and ashamed. I wasn’t going to post the results up here. How had I let myself get so out of shape? All that hard work before, wasted. I’m fat again and weak.
It took a lot of calm, reasoning talk to pull back from the depths of cookie-inhaling depression. And there are cookies in the house. Oreos. Though they have wheat, they have no dairy. I am too happy about this.
I’ve fallen…quite far in fact…but I can’t let it stop me. I have to pick myself back up and start going again.
I figure I have 2 options:
- Moan about my temporary failure, inhale cookies and chips, and make it a permanent failure
- Shut up about it and get back into the rhythm of daily exercise and eating right (or at least mostly right)
The first option is by far the easiest. Naturally it’s the one my body wants (especially my tastebuds) and I’m actually inclined to agree with my body because I do enjoy relaxing. But then my weight will creep up farther and farther. I’m not happy with how I look now; if I sit back and continue to relax and stuff myself, I’ll soon be miserable with how I look. It’s hard now but it’ll be harder in the long run if I do nothing now.
How long do you beat yourself up when you trip up?