It's funny the amount of memories the human mind can store, for recall at a moments notice.
Like the Christmas time that we had to call the paramedics to Santa's Enchanted Forest (a theme park) because my mom was having a mild heart attack.
Or the time that my mom performed CPR on a stranger who was going into cardiac arrest.
There was the time that I got home from school to find that my father had been taken by ambulance to the hospital because he was having chest pains, and we feared that he might be having a heart attack.
Or the time that doctors first explained to me that my mom has a leaky valve in her heart.
I can still remember looking up Atrial Fibrillation for the first time so that I could understand another condition that had been plaguing my mother for years.
By now, if you're following my Facebook page, then you know that I have signed up to do the Heart Walk in October to raise money for the American Heart Association. It's not just about me losing weight or walking to get healthy. It's not just about me raising money for some random charity.
There's a personal connection for me.
I already have a handful of people who have promised to walk with me that day. I'm nervously pending their registration to confirm that they mean it when they say that they will join my team.
The hard part is reaching the $100 fundraising goal that I've set for myself, or helping my team reach the $1,000 fundraising goal that I set for it.
I've come to realize that the Chubby Chick for Charity project is asking a lot of others...in tough economic times, I'm asking for people to reach in their pocket and hand out their hard earned cash JUST to motivate me and help some random charity. But, I like to think that I don't ask any more of people than they are able to comfortably give. For example, if I could get 100 people to just pledge $1.00 for the walk-a-thon, I would easily reach my fundraising goal for the price of a bottle of water.
At most, if I could get 20 people to pledge $5.00 - less than a McDonald's value meal - I'd still be successful in my fundraising goals.
$100 seemed like a reasonable goal at first, but I suppose that only time will tell.
UPDATE: In the couple of hours since I first posted this, two of my beloved Chubby Chasers have stepped up and "single-handedly" helped me reach my goal! Louis Mariscal has pledged a $50.00 donation and Taryn Rusnell has once again stepped up with a work-out challenge! Since I've declared Wednesdays to be "Walk-A-Thon Wednesday", Taryn has pledged $5.00 for every Wednesday I work out between now and the Heart Walk, for a possible total donation of $75! Plus, to motivate her own health and fitness, Taryn has further pledged an additional $5.00 for any Wednesday that she DOES NOT work out. Granted, I have a lot of work to do to earn Taryn's pledge, but with only 15 Wednesdays between now and then, I'm determined to milk her for every penny! lol Thank you, Thank you, Thank you to these two wonderful supporters!
Showing posts with label Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Challenge. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
What if?
I make no assumptions that, with diet and exercise, I'm going to become beautiful in the standardly accepted sense.
I'm 32 years old already. The corners of my eyes are beginning to crinkle just a little and there are laugh lines just below my chubby cheeks. I'm not pretending that 32 is old...but let's face it, I haven't taken care of my body and it's going to take a toll. And sure, I often get mistaken for someone 10 years younger, but I know that will change when there is much less cellulite in my chunky face.
I have stretch marks, and my skin is already beginning to lose some of it's elasticity, which means my battle against the bulge could very well end with sagging skin to prove my success.
It is typically expected that - at my age...and having been overweight for as long as I have - some surgery will probably be necessary to remove excess skin if I should reach my ideal goal. Although some stretch marks may be removed in the process, they will more than likely be replaced with some surgical scars.
I'm not expecting to wear bikinis or to go sleeveless. I hold no illusions that I will become a model. I just want to be healthy. To feel better and, yes, I'll admit it - I'd like to look good in my clothes for a change. I'd like to have an outfit or two that makes me feel sexy or pretty or desirable. I'd like to have a "little black dress". I'd like to maybe put on a pair or shorts in the summer. Maybe...just maybe...I can get to a place where I'm comfortable enough to wear a bathing suit and t-shirt back into the pool.
I don't think that's asking for or expecting too much.
But then, there are these pictures of these women who were large, and they lost the weight and they're adorable. You don't see any of the flabby signs of their former selves - they go sleeveless without the skin flaps that sway in the breeze or the thigh flabs that drape over their knees.
Maybe they weren't as heavy as me. Maybe they weren't heavy as long as me. Maybe they're younger.
But then maybe...JUST MAYBE...that could be me.
What if I could possibly achieve more than I set out to achieve?
What if, for once, I could go out with my girlfriends and be the one who gets the attention?
What if I could jump in the swimming pool...WITHOUT the extra t-shirt for coverage?
What if I could ROCK that freaking black dress so well that the guys would be drooling?
What if, for the first time in my life, I got a guys number simply because he was attracted to me?
I'm not striving for that, and I won't even allow myself to hope for it. But tonight, for the first time, I allowed myself to dream that there could be more for me than just "being healthy" and "feeling better". Maybe...just maybe...I could get good at this health and fitness stuff. Maybe I could achieve more than I ever expected or hoped I could.
It's not my goal...but it's nice to accept that it's a possibility.
My future is unwritten. I'm not just turning a page...I'm starting a whole new book, and the possibilities are limitless.
I did the math today and calculated - if I steadily lose two lbs a week without fail - I will not reach my ideal goal weight until April of 2015. Nearly two years away.
Needless to say, I was disheartened and overwhelmed by the odds. The journey just looks so freaking arduous and, of course, I want results now. The thought that I have to maintain my will power for two years to get where I want to be...when my will power has been SO wavering...the whole thing just looks daunting.
But allowing myself the possibility that I could be beautiful (per society's standards) in that two years time...that I could BE somebody I've never had the nerve to be...it will all be worth it, won't it?
So, for tonight...I'm not getting my hopes up. But, I'm relishing just a little bit in the unknown and possibilities and limitless futures and it makes what was once daunting feel exciting.
I'm going to be somebody new one day. That package is wrapped and under the tree with a big old sign on it that reads "Do Not Open Until 2015" and you know what....I can't wait to see what's hidden inside.
I'm 32 years old already. The corners of my eyes are beginning to crinkle just a little and there are laugh lines just below my chubby cheeks. I'm not pretending that 32 is old...but let's face it, I haven't taken care of my body and it's going to take a toll. And sure, I often get mistaken for someone 10 years younger, but I know that will change when there is much less cellulite in my chunky face.
I have stretch marks, and my skin is already beginning to lose some of it's elasticity, which means my battle against the bulge could very well end with sagging skin to prove my success.
It is typically expected that - at my age...and having been overweight for as long as I have - some surgery will probably be necessary to remove excess skin if I should reach my ideal goal. Although some stretch marks may be removed in the process, they will more than likely be replaced with some surgical scars.
I'm not expecting to wear bikinis or to go sleeveless. I hold no illusions that I will become a model. I just want to be healthy. To feel better and, yes, I'll admit it - I'd like to look good in my clothes for a change. I'd like to have an outfit or two that makes me feel sexy or pretty or desirable. I'd like to have a "little black dress". I'd like to maybe put on a pair or shorts in the summer. Maybe...just maybe...I can get to a place where I'm comfortable enough to wear a bathing suit and t-shirt back into the pool.
I don't think that's asking for or expecting too much.
But then, there are these pictures of these women who were large, and they lost the weight and they're adorable. You don't see any of the flabby signs of their former selves - they go sleeveless without the skin flaps that sway in the breeze or the thigh flabs that drape over their knees.
Maybe they weren't as heavy as me. Maybe they weren't heavy as long as me. Maybe they're younger.
But then maybe...JUST MAYBE...that could be me.
What if I could possibly achieve more than I set out to achieve?
What if, for once, I could go out with my girlfriends and be the one who gets the attention?
What if I could jump in the swimming pool...WITHOUT the extra t-shirt for coverage?
What if I could ROCK that freaking black dress so well that the guys would be drooling?
What if, for the first time in my life, I got a guys number simply because he was attracted to me?
I'm not striving for that, and I won't even allow myself to hope for it. But tonight, for the first time, I allowed myself to dream that there could be more for me than just "being healthy" and "feeling better". Maybe...just maybe...I could get good at this health and fitness stuff. Maybe I could achieve more than I ever expected or hoped I could.
It's not my goal...but it's nice to accept that it's a possibility.
My future is unwritten. I'm not just turning a page...I'm starting a whole new book, and the possibilities are limitless.
I did the math today and calculated - if I steadily lose two lbs a week without fail - I will not reach my ideal goal weight until April of 2015. Nearly two years away.
Needless to say, I was disheartened and overwhelmed by the odds. The journey just looks so freaking arduous and, of course, I want results now. The thought that I have to maintain my will power for two years to get where I want to be...when my will power has been SO wavering...the whole thing just looks daunting.
But allowing myself the possibility that I could be beautiful (per society's standards) in that two years time...that I could BE somebody I've never had the nerve to be...it will all be worth it, won't it?
So, for tonight...I'm not getting my hopes up. But, I'm relishing just a little bit in the unknown and possibilities and limitless futures and it makes what was once daunting feel exciting.
I'm going to be somebody new one day. That package is wrapped and under the tree with a big old sign on it that reads "Do Not Open Until 2015" and you know what....I can't wait to see what's hidden inside.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
The Key Is Moderation...
I've come to realize that diet and exercise can't be an all or nothing kind of thing.
My will power is at it's very worst late night/early morning. I don't know if it has something to do with being tired or sleepy or what not, but cravings seem to hit and I just don't have the stamina to fight them off during those hours.
But, the other day, something clicked for me. Diet and exercise doesn't have to be an all or nothing thing.
I have a tendency to go to extremes, which, when it comes to my health, means that I am either a lazy, gluttonous slob or I am a Jillian Michaels wannabe.
The trick is compromise.
I think, one of the reasons my midnight cravings are so hard to deny is because I spend so much of my energy denying myself in the daytime hours. I exhaust myself, telling myself I can't have *ANY* of the "junk food" that I want for most of my waking hours and then, BAM, darkness falls and my subconcious is shrieking "WANT JUNK FOOD" so badly that I can't think straight.
I thought that allowing myself a little bit would be a mistake, because I'd only want more. And, that is true to a degree. But the difference is that it is easier to tell myself that I can't have more than it is to tell myself that I can't have any at all.
For example, I worked as a cashier today and there was a woman in my line who was happily sipping on Pepsi in a clear cup with a clear straw and I suddenly wanted Pepsi so bad that I was practically drooling.
So, on my break, I bought a refillable fountain cup and filled it with Pepsi. It tasted good and triggered that automatic desire for more...but the guilt began to set in just enough that I threw away the cup and forewent my free refills.
Had I not given in to just a little temptation, I would more than likely be driving to McDonald's at midnight to buy two large Cokes and then chugged them down before drowning guilt and self loathing.
I've heard it said a billion times that the trick to diet and exercise is moderation and I've always scoffed at the idea. Or, I would think moderation meant scheduling a "cheat day" or some grand notion like that. But, it's the little things - like a 150 calorie soda "binge" - that just may help to cure me of the crazy, gluttonous midnight munchies.
At least...I hope so.
My will power is at it's very worst late night/early morning. I don't know if it has something to do with being tired or sleepy or what not, but cravings seem to hit and I just don't have the stamina to fight them off during those hours.
But, the other day, something clicked for me. Diet and exercise doesn't have to be an all or nothing thing.
I have a tendency to go to extremes, which, when it comes to my health, means that I am either a lazy, gluttonous slob or I am a Jillian Michaels wannabe.
The trick is compromise.
I think, one of the reasons my midnight cravings are so hard to deny is because I spend so much of my energy denying myself in the daytime hours. I exhaust myself, telling myself I can't have *ANY* of the "junk food" that I want for most of my waking hours and then, BAM, darkness falls and my subconcious is shrieking "WANT JUNK FOOD" so badly that I can't think straight.
I thought that allowing myself a little bit would be a mistake, because I'd only want more. And, that is true to a degree. But the difference is that it is easier to tell myself that I can't have more than it is to tell myself that I can't have any at all.
For example, I worked as a cashier today and there was a woman in my line who was happily sipping on Pepsi in a clear cup with a clear straw and I suddenly wanted Pepsi so bad that I was practically drooling.
So, on my break, I bought a refillable fountain cup and filled it with Pepsi. It tasted good and triggered that automatic desire for more...but the guilt began to set in just enough that I threw away the cup and forewent my free refills.
Had I not given in to just a little temptation, I would more than likely be driving to McDonald's at midnight to buy two large Cokes and then chugged them down before drowning guilt and self loathing.
I've heard it said a billion times that the trick to diet and exercise is moderation and I've always scoffed at the idea. Or, I would think moderation meant scheduling a "cheat day" or some grand notion like that. But, it's the little things - like a 150 calorie soda "binge" - that just may help to cure me of the crazy, gluttonous midnight munchies.
At least...I hope so.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
There Is No Good Time...
I know I said it previously, but I'm coming to believe more and more that there is no "good time" to start a diet, or no "right time" to exercise.
Since being dumped by my ex, I'm been in a bit of a funk. Luckily, it hasn't triggered a more severe depression...just the normal, single girl kind of blues. Still, this funk has clung to me and been difficult to shake and is a big reason why I've had such a roller coaster week when it comes to adhering to my diet. While I'm feeling bad about myself, or insecure or worthless, it's really hard to put the energy into caring about what I eat. I haven't done too bad, but there have been some notable slip-ups.
Today, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I kept under my calorie goal yesterday AND went to the gym for a 30 minute work out (tore up my last pair of sneakers in the process, but it was worth it). Then, before I went to bed, I packed a healthy breakfast and lunch so that I'd be prepared for the day today. I'm proud to say that - even with an unexpected family dinner at Applebee's, that I came in at just over 1,200 calories today (the "healthy" minimum for an adult)...and there was still room for jello!
I've also begun to find a healthy place in regards to the end of my last relationship. I've started to look at the greater picture...at what I want in the years ahead, at what makes me happy, at what is best for me...and I'm coming to accept that my exboyfriend was not it. There is still some anger and resentment, but I feel like I'm finally working towards letting it go.
But, while taking pride in these tiny little accomplishments, I'm reminded that - in life - the good will always come with the bad.
Today I learned that - after a life long battle with severe depression - my Aunt gave in and took her life. My uncle - my dear, sweet, kind, good hearted, hard working uncle - woke up to find his wife of many, many years had passed away as he slept. My Aunt had been really struggling lately - in and out of hospitals that kept hoping they were finally getting her adjusted to new medications and dosages - overdosed last night before laying down by my Uncle's side to fall asleep for the last time.
She leaves behind my cousin, cousin-in-law and two granddaughters, as well as numerous extended family members such as myself.
So, for you, my beloved Chubby Chasers, please take this as a reminder that THERE IS NO GOOD TIME. Don't wait for "next week" to live a better life - a diet started on Wednesday is just as significant as a diet started on Sunday. Don't wait for your parents to be healthier, or your broken heart to mend or for life to be all sunshine and roses, because such things are luxuries in this life. Seize the day and make it what you want it to be. Seize the day and be IN THIS MOMENT who you want to be. Stop waiting for "some day". Stop waiting for it to get easier. Stop waiting till life is stable and you're happier. If you want things to change, you have to do the work and there is no better time to start than the present, because tomorrow is promised to no one.
RIP Aunt Liz. Obviously, you were loved much more than you knew.
Since being dumped by my ex, I'm been in a bit of a funk. Luckily, it hasn't triggered a more severe depression...just the normal, single girl kind of blues. Still, this funk has clung to me and been difficult to shake and is a big reason why I've had such a roller coaster week when it comes to adhering to my diet. While I'm feeling bad about myself, or insecure or worthless, it's really hard to put the energy into caring about what I eat. I haven't done too bad, but there have been some notable slip-ups.
Today, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I kept under my calorie goal yesterday AND went to the gym for a 30 minute work out (tore up my last pair of sneakers in the process, but it was worth it). Then, before I went to bed, I packed a healthy breakfast and lunch so that I'd be prepared for the day today. I'm proud to say that - even with an unexpected family dinner at Applebee's, that I came in at just over 1,200 calories today (the "healthy" minimum for an adult)...and there was still room for jello!
I've also begun to find a healthy place in regards to the end of my last relationship. I've started to look at the greater picture...at what I want in the years ahead, at what makes me happy, at what is best for me...and I'm coming to accept that my exboyfriend was not it. There is still some anger and resentment, but I feel like I'm finally working towards letting it go.
But, while taking pride in these tiny little accomplishments, I'm reminded that - in life - the good will always come with the bad.
Today I learned that - after a life long battle with severe depression - my Aunt gave in and took her life. My uncle - my dear, sweet, kind, good hearted, hard working uncle - woke up to find his wife of many, many years had passed away as he slept. My Aunt had been really struggling lately - in and out of hospitals that kept hoping they were finally getting her adjusted to new medications and dosages - overdosed last night before laying down by my Uncle's side to fall asleep for the last time.
She leaves behind my cousin, cousin-in-law and two granddaughters, as well as numerous extended family members such as myself.
So, for you, my beloved Chubby Chasers, please take this as a reminder that THERE IS NO GOOD TIME. Don't wait for "next week" to live a better life - a diet started on Wednesday is just as significant as a diet started on Sunday. Don't wait for your parents to be healthier, or your broken heart to mend or for life to be all sunshine and roses, because such things are luxuries in this life. Seize the day and make it what you want it to be. Seize the day and be IN THIS MOMENT who you want to be. Stop waiting for "some day". Stop waiting for it to get easier. Stop waiting till life is stable and you're happier. If you want things to change, you have to do the work and there is no better time to start than the present, because tomorrow is promised to no one.
RIP Aunt Liz. Obviously, you were loved much more than you knew.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Just a short little update...
This will be a short one - going through some more emotional turmoil due to the break-up and don't feel like purging it on here, so I'll stick to the weight loss stuff tonight.
I only worked out once last week, which is not good nor is it a good use of the investment I made into joining a gym. To my excuse, the only pair of sneakers I own are falling apart to the point that the sole of the left shoe has completely detached from the heel. I could pick up some cheap sneaks, which is what I will probably end up doing, but I would really, really like to invest in a pair of GOOD walking shoes that will support both my heels (which tend to experience pain) and my very weak ankles. Still, I intend not to let that become an excuse this week, even if I have to work out in $5 Payless shoes.
I decided to give in and just eat whatever I wanted at BJ's Brewhouse last night, though I quickly filled up before finishing my dinner and then had absolutely no room for the Pizookie's that I so love and adore. Ended up getting a bite out of a humongous pizookie they served on the house, but that was about it. Then, today's been such a sleepy, lazy day that I just ate whatever was available.
When I sat at the computer tonight to update My Fitness Pal, I was sure I was going to TOTALLY BLOW my caloric goals, but I actually managed to stay under them both nights without even trying! So, I got off lucky this time, but need to get over my emotional drama and focus on what the hell I'm doing.
I'm not sure if I mentioned this yesterday, or if my scale is even trustworthy, but I supposedly lost five lbs since Monday.
There's been one more change. If you log onto the Chubby Chick For Charity's Facebook Page, you will now see a picture of me at my heaviest. My profile picture shows me near a total of 400 lbs...over 60 lbs heavier than I am now. So far, I've lost a small child. lol
So, that's all for tonight. Tomorrow's a new day and I hope that this journey will help my heart to heal even faster than usual. :o) Thanks for sticking by me!
I only worked out once last week, which is not good nor is it a good use of the investment I made into joining a gym. To my excuse, the only pair of sneakers I own are falling apart to the point that the sole of the left shoe has completely detached from the heel. I could pick up some cheap sneaks, which is what I will probably end up doing, but I would really, really like to invest in a pair of GOOD walking shoes that will support both my heels (which tend to experience pain) and my very weak ankles. Still, I intend not to let that become an excuse this week, even if I have to work out in $5 Payless shoes.
I decided to give in and just eat whatever I wanted at BJ's Brewhouse last night, though I quickly filled up before finishing my dinner and then had absolutely no room for the Pizookie's that I so love and adore. Ended up getting a bite out of a humongous pizookie they served on the house, but that was about it. Then, today's been such a sleepy, lazy day that I just ate whatever was available.
When I sat at the computer tonight to update My Fitness Pal, I was sure I was going to TOTALLY BLOW my caloric goals, but I actually managed to stay under them both nights without even trying! So, I got off lucky this time, but need to get over my emotional drama and focus on what the hell I'm doing.
I'm not sure if I mentioned this yesterday, or if my scale is even trustworthy, but I supposedly lost five lbs since Monday.
There's been one more change. If you log onto the Chubby Chick For Charity's Facebook Page, you will now see a picture of me at my heaviest. My profile picture shows me near a total of 400 lbs...over 60 lbs heavier than I am now. So far, I've lost a small child. lol
So, that's all for tonight. Tomorrow's a new day and I hope that this journey will help my heart to heal even faster than usual. :o) Thanks for sticking by me!
Friday, May 31, 2013
It's never easy...
Remember that nice guy I told you was supporting me in my exercise and weight loss? The one who "loved" me as I am?
He's the reason that I want to bury myself in chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream right now.
We were together less than two months and in that time, he's managed to majorly hurt me four times. Today was the fourth and final time. I think, what makes it so hard, is how badly he begged for me back less than a week ago, and how frequently in that week he told me that he loved me and how happy I made him.
Then...as is his habit...he broke the news to me on Facebook because he can't man up to have these conversations in person.
I was with him less than twelve hours before he did it. Less than twelve hours before, he told me he loved me and how happy I made him and how very lucky he was...and then, he tells me that he's been on a dating site and has met somebody else and that he thinks he must be unhappy with me if he keeps looking for love and happiness elsewhere.
I know he's not the one for me. I know, now, that this was not the relationship I was meant to end up in...but it doesn't stop it from hurting me and pissing me off to no end. It doesn't prevent that cycle of emotions I always experience after a break up: the hurt, anger and depression. It doesn't stop me from wanting to self medicate with everything tasty within arms reach.
On the other end of the spectrum, my eldest niece graduated tonight. There were not enough tickets for me to attend the graduation in person, but I had the good fortune of watching her graduate on a live steam online.
Her graduation is bittersweet for me. Or, perhaps it is only bittersweet because of the emotional turmoil I am experiencing today. I love her so very much and I am so very, very proud of her...but I find myself wishing I had been a better Auntie so that we could be closer at this time.
Her graduation reminds me of mine 13 years ago, and all the promise that lie before me then and all of the ways I've failed myself over and over again that have led to this point in my adult life.
Of course, I won't tell my young, intelligent, beautiful, bright-eyed niece that on her graduation day. I'll go to BJ's Brewhouse with my 1,000 calories that I have left over on my diet plan and I'll eat the Caesar Salad that fits into my diet plan with a side of grilled chicken, and I won't devour the Pizookie's that are promising me the happiness that my "boyfriend" failed to deliver.
There is never a good time to start a diet. There is never a right time to join a gym, or start walking, or get those damned tennis shoes that are good for you. You just have to shut up, suck it up and fucking do it.
I can cry my eyes out on the treadmill tomorrow.
He's the reason that I want to bury myself in chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream right now.
We were together less than two months and in that time, he's managed to majorly hurt me four times. Today was the fourth and final time. I think, what makes it so hard, is how badly he begged for me back less than a week ago, and how frequently in that week he told me that he loved me and how happy I made him.
Then...as is his habit...he broke the news to me on Facebook because he can't man up to have these conversations in person.
I was with him less than twelve hours before he did it. Less than twelve hours before, he told me he loved me and how happy I made him and how very lucky he was...and then, he tells me that he's been on a dating site and has met somebody else and that he thinks he must be unhappy with me if he keeps looking for love and happiness elsewhere.
I know he's not the one for me. I know, now, that this was not the relationship I was meant to end up in...but it doesn't stop it from hurting me and pissing me off to no end. It doesn't prevent that cycle of emotions I always experience after a break up: the hurt, anger and depression. It doesn't stop me from wanting to self medicate with everything tasty within arms reach.
On the other end of the spectrum, my eldest niece graduated tonight. There were not enough tickets for me to attend the graduation in person, but I had the good fortune of watching her graduate on a live steam online.
Her graduation is bittersweet for me. Or, perhaps it is only bittersweet because of the emotional turmoil I am experiencing today. I love her so very much and I am so very, very proud of her...but I find myself wishing I had been a better Auntie so that we could be closer at this time.
Her graduation reminds me of mine 13 years ago, and all the promise that lie before me then and all of the ways I've failed myself over and over again that have led to this point in my adult life.
Of course, I won't tell my young, intelligent, beautiful, bright-eyed niece that on her graduation day. I'll go to BJ's Brewhouse with my 1,000 calories that I have left over on my diet plan and I'll eat the Caesar Salad that fits into my diet plan with a side of grilled chicken, and I won't devour the Pizookie's that are promising me the happiness that my "boyfriend" failed to deliver.
There is never a good time to start a diet. There is never a right time to join a gym, or start walking, or get those damned tennis shoes that are good for you. You just have to shut up, suck it up and fucking do it.
I can cry my eyes out on the treadmill tomorrow.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Guess Who's Back...Back Again...ChuChi's Back...Tell A Friend!
Yes, I've lost touch.
Yes, I have not actively sought to lose weight.
Yes, my eating habits returned to "normal".
Yes, I have not been actively exercising.
Yes, I have gained a couple of the pounds that I have lost.
But I have not failed.
I have not failed because I managed to keep off the grand majority of the weight I've lost. (In the past six months, I've only put back on 10 lbs despite dealing with major stress, depression and anxiety.)
I have not failed because I'M BACK. Failure suggests an ending, and my journey has only been paused.
I have not failed because this time, I've found a gym that I can afford. A gym with a personal trainer who can help me to design a work out plan and a diet that will work for me.
I have not failed because I've found somebody to exercise and diet with who can motivate and inspire me while I motivate and inspire him in return.
I have not failed because I have not given up. I knew this day would come, when my personal issues would quiet down and I could give healthy living another go.
I know life will get in the way some times and I know that I can't always use it as an excuse. I know that it was weak of me to give in to outside pressures over the past few months, but learning and changing old habits takes time.
And I WILL get there.
So, I pigged out on cookies this morning because I knew that tomorrow, CHUCHI IS BACK!
This Memorial Day is not only in memory of those brave men and women who have died for my freedom in battle, but it is a burying of the me I used to be and the beginning of another battle in the war for my health.
Mom has been seeing some new doctors recently and is finally getting some pain management and treatment for the other issues which continue to ail her. We are fortunate in that her Leukemia still seems to be at bay and I pray that she is on the road to become the go-getter that she used to be.
My father has undergone the fourth surgery on his right knee and the infection that plagued him is FINALLY gone. The first time he stood up on his own two feet in nine months, my mother and father cried as I simply rushed to his side and hugged him tight. He is only three weeks out from surgery and is still recovering from surgery and numerous complications he's experienced along the way...but the arduous journey to this point is over and he is beginning to resume being the strong, proud husband, father and caretaker that I have always known and loved.
As for me, the Chubby Chick has found someone who loves her as the Chubby Chick that she is. To respect his privacy, I shall nickname him "The Robust Romeo". Although his battle with the bulge is nowhere near as epic as mine, and although he honestly loves me - curves and all - we've agreed to work out together and support each other in trying to live healthier lives.
As for me, the Chubby Chick has found someone who loves her as the Chubby Chick that she is. To respect his privacy, I shall nickname him "The Robust Romeo". Although his battle with the bulge is nowhere near as epic as mine, and although he honestly loves me - curves and all - we've agreed to work out together and support each other in trying to live healthier lives.
As of tonight, I've signed up for a gym called Planet Fitness and I am VERY excited to get started - the gym is only $20 a month and it includes cardio machines, resistance training, strength training and a 30 minute circuit (which was what I loved about Curves) in addition to water massage beds and massage chairs to reduce the risk of injury and tanning beds so that the Chuchi might actually have a tan for the first time in her long, white life.
I know I need to prove myself to all of you...that I'm not such a flake and that I really am in this for the long haul, so I am not going to be requesting any donations at this time. The first ten pounds are all on me - to prove I can do it. Once I get back down to where I was when everything went bad, I'll get started back on earning money for charity. :o)
I know I need to prove myself to all of you...that I'm not such a flake and that I really am in this for the long haul, so I am not going to be requesting any donations at this time. The first ten pounds are all on me - to prove I can do it. Once I get back down to where I was when everything went bad, I'll get started back on earning money for charity. :o)
Thanks for your support, encouragement, inspiration, motivation and most importantly - patience.
Monday, December 24, 2012
December 24th: ChuChi's Confession
Hello my beloved Chubby Chasers, and Merry Christmas Eve!
This post is long overdue, but I've been struggling with the decision to make this confession or not. On the one hand, I promised in the very beginning of this journey to be completely honest with you all in every way. I wanted complete transparency so that I could be totally held accountable for my failures and success, and so that anyone interested in pledging or challenging would know that I would be honest to a fault.
On the other hand, numerous of my personal friends and family are now Chubby Chasers as well - so I'm not granted as much anonymity as I might have been as just "ChuChi" on the world wide web. The things I say on here can have repercussions in my life and affect the way that my friends and family view me.
But, I'm going to tell you everything because - maybe it will be therapeutic.
I'm going to tell you everything because I promise to tell you the truth, and I like to stay true to my word.
I'm going to tell you everything because I don't want you to think that this was just some flash in the pan gimmick that is over for me.
And I'm going to tell you everything because I have nothing to be ashamed of and maybe...just maybe...this confession will reach someone else going through the same thing who needs some inspiration. How wonderful would it be if - like with my weight struggle - my emotional struggles could also help to inspire or motivate others? Just maybe, then, it would have all been worth it.
So, here it is: I suffer from Bipolar Disorder; otherwise known as Manic Depression.
I was originally diagnosed with Depression as a teenager, but received the Bipolar diagnosis as a young adult.
Early on, between normal teenage hormone fluctuations and my disorder, I suffered as doctors sought the proper medication and dosage. And, over the years, I've had small bouts - I mean, medication just helps, but it's not a cure so the regular highs and lows that everyone experiences in life are just a little more dramatic for me.
For those who do not know what Bipolar Disorder is, it affects me in four different ways.
I can experience severe depression - the kind where I sleep for fifteen hours and cry at a pin drop and hate myself and life and everything about me. As a teenager, I once downed about 10-15 of antidepressants with the thought that it would either make me VERY happy or it would kill me but either way, I wouldn't have to be so terribly sad anymore. They didn't do either. In fact, no one even knew I did it until I recently told my parents. However, my Depression includes it's very own soundtrack. It's this internal voice on this loop that tells me I'm a failure, I'm worthless, that THIS is the person I really am and that - although my friends tell me they'll be there for me no matter what - they don't really know this side of me and if they did, I would just drain the life out of them. This voice tells me that my hopes and dreams and projects - like ChuChi - are all stupid and worthless and I'm just going to screw it up and embarrass myself.
But, unlike Chronic Depression, BD is more than just extreme sadness. One of the worst, for me, is the bouts of rage. I've punched walls and once broke my hand in a fit of uncontrollable rage. I feel hate and disgust and get to this point, for some unknown reason, where everything my mom says and does simply drives me up the wall to an almost blinding fury. When coupled with a mix of depression, I begin to inwardly hate...absolutely LOATHE myself. It's been over 7 years since I've self harmed, but in the past, I have resorted to mild cutting, poking myself with thumb tacks and just hitting or biting myself where no one else would be able to see the marks. One time, I raked my keys over my wrists numerous times until I scraped the skin badly enough to bleed. I've only confessed this to my mother and doctor this past month. But again, I can at least say that the self mutilation has not occurred in years. That inner monologue continues, but much more passionately than the sorrowful whining of depression.
Sometimes, I just go numb. It's like my emotions wall up and I have no care, no love, no apathy. I simply exist. I find no joy in the things I love to do - I simply go through the motions to keep my mind busy. I saw some funny pictures online and laughed, but realized that even my laugh sounded completely hollow and foreign.
And then, my one and only perk of BD: Mania. Now, these symptoms are a bit different for everyone, I would assume, but I've personally never experienced a mania that I didn't like. I am happy, SUPER productive and full of natural energy. I love everyone and everything and life is wonderful! People love to be around me when I am like this, and I clean the house to perfection and I'm at my very funniest and goofiest and usually have everyone around me cracking up. I am hopeful and optimistic and I can conquer the WORLD! In fact, this project was very likely created during a moment of mania, which I'm sure is pretty easy to understand.
I don't usually recognize a manic episode because that is when I feel the most like "me"...it's not until the mania wears off that I slip into depression or rage and realize what was happening, and then I'm stuck wondering "Which is the real me? What if the real me isn't the sunshine and rainbows part, but one of the others?"
For the longest time, my medication has worked well and I've been pretty stable for years. However, earlier this year, I began experiencing bouts of depression or anger or mania that were just slightly more extreme than usual. I was put on an anti-anxiety medication to help with mild side-effects and that seemed to help in the moment...but over the past few months, these episodes have increased in quantity, intensity and duration until finally, early November, I asked my Doctor if he could increase my dosage. Since I was already at the maximum dosage, he decided to change me to a new medication.
Now, the switch between medications is usually rough - but I had never experienced anything quite like this. I sunk into a serious depression and was dealing with thoughts of suicide on a daily basis. Now, I'd like to clarify something: THINKING about suicide and PLANNING to commit suicide are very different things. For example, I see Robert Pattinson and THINK about tearing his clothes off and having my way with him...but I have no intentions to actually do it. This is similar...it was a constant thought, swirling around in my head...but I had no intention of doing it or acting on it. Despite my emotions, I was clear headed enough to know that was not the answer, it would be selfish, and it would hurt others.
A week after switching to the new medication, my doctor was out of town on vacation, so I asked my mom to take me to Urgent Care so that I could ask for a higher dosage, or SOME kind of help to get me through it. The nurse asked me how severe it was and I admitted to having dark thoughts. Next thing I know, I'm being Baker Acted - which is a mandatory commitment to an asylum for at least 72 hours based on the "fact" that I pose a risk to myself and others.
Needless to say, being treated like I was crazy, dangerous and unable to care for myself because I was honest in seeking help did NOT help my predicament. I flew into a rage so powerful that my mom questioned my sanity and suggested that being hospitalized might be the best thing for me.
That sobered me up.
Luckily, I managed to swing my attitude around so that I was more manic. Its not usually that easy for me, but I guess it was a fight or flight response, and the adrenaline rush worked in my favor. While I was supposed to be out with my friends at the long awaited premiere of The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2, I was in a hospital ER awaiting placement in a facility. I managed to joke around and tease the doctors and nurses and hold the tears at bay until another doctor saw me and claimed that there was no need for the psychiatric hold, releasing me with orders to double my medication...as I had requested ten hours earlier at the Urgent Care center.
Hrumph.
By now, it was Thanksgiving week, so I was trying to find a psychiatrist who could help me but I had to wait till early December. Luckily, I turned a bit manic the day before Thanksgiving and made it through the holiday on a high.
When I finally saw a psychiatrist for the first time, he explained that the medication my Primary Care Physician had put me on was meant for Chronic Depression - NOT Bipolar Disorder - and it could explain why my symptoms became worse. He subscribed a medication that knocked me out for two weeks - leaving me sleeping upwards of 15 hours a day and lethargic the rest of the time.
As of December 12th, I have been switched again and over the past week, my parents and I are all starting to see an improvement. It's scary, because everyday that I feel good, I worry that it's mania setting in, foreshadowing more rage or depression...but so far, I've been steady.
In the meantime, my father has been experiencing continuing trouble since his knee replacement surgery and is now in the hospital for the fourth time since October. He is undergoing surgery today - Christmas Eve - and will be in the hospital through New Year's. Due to my Bipolar Disorder, I've been unable to work and my Dad is still on extended Medical Leave for his knee - which means that we are hardly bringing in any income right now. All of this has added to my stress and worries, making thoughts of shopping healthy and such null and void in the grand scheme of things, when we are shopping on a very tight budget. My brother has taken my nieces on a tropical cruise, so not only has he not come by the hospital or called, but we will not be seeing them for Christmas. My aunt and her father are both in the hospital.
It doesn't feel like the holidays at all.
So, folks...it's not that I've given up. I mean...maybe I did for a little while...but I have to believe that that's not the real me. Things are just harder than expected, and I haven't been in a place to fight through it and focus on my weight loss at the same time. But, they're turning around...they're getting better...and soon, I'll be back on the bandwagon.
For those of you who have stuck with me and randomly shouted out to wish me well over the past month...you have no idea how deeply your support touched me at a very, very dark time.
For those of you who know me personally - please don't look at me differently. I'm the same girl you knew and loved...you just know me a little better now, that's all. There is no need to worry about me - to have gotten through the shit I've gotten through this past month - I am hella strong and I'm not going anywhere. My head's a little messed up, but my heart is fine and it is here to stay, so stick with me.
I hope that you all have had a much better year, and I wish you the happiest of happies and the merriest of merries. Hang in there...ChuChi will be making a comeback soon enough!
This post is long overdue, but I've been struggling with the decision to make this confession or not. On the one hand, I promised in the very beginning of this journey to be completely honest with you all in every way. I wanted complete transparency so that I could be totally held accountable for my failures and success, and so that anyone interested in pledging or challenging would know that I would be honest to a fault.
On the other hand, numerous of my personal friends and family are now Chubby Chasers as well - so I'm not granted as much anonymity as I might have been as just "ChuChi" on the world wide web. The things I say on here can have repercussions in my life and affect the way that my friends and family view me.
But, I'm going to tell you everything because - maybe it will be therapeutic.
I'm going to tell you everything because I promise to tell you the truth, and I like to stay true to my word.
I'm going to tell you everything because I don't want you to think that this was just some flash in the pan gimmick that is over for me.
And I'm going to tell you everything because I have nothing to be ashamed of and maybe...just maybe...this confession will reach someone else going through the same thing who needs some inspiration. How wonderful would it be if - like with my weight struggle - my emotional struggles could also help to inspire or motivate others? Just maybe, then, it would have all been worth it.
So, here it is: I suffer from Bipolar Disorder; otherwise known as Manic Depression.
I was originally diagnosed with Depression as a teenager, but received the Bipolar diagnosis as a young adult.
Early on, between normal teenage hormone fluctuations and my disorder, I suffered as doctors sought the proper medication and dosage. And, over the years, I've had small bouts - I mean, medication just helps, but it's not a cure so the regular highs and lows that everyone experiences in life are just a little more dramatic for me.
For those who do not know what Bipolar Disorder is, it affects me in four different ways.
I can experience severe depression - the kind where I sleep for fifteen hours and cry at a pin drop and hate myself and life and everything about me. As a teenager, I once downed about 10-15 of antidepressants with the thought that it would either make me VERY happy or it would kill me but either way, I wouldn't have to be so terribly sad anymore. They didn't do either. In fact, no one even knew I did it until I recently told my parents. However, my Depression includes it's very own soundtrack. It's this internal voice on this loop that tells me I'm a failure, I'm worthless, that THIS is the person I really am and that - although my friends tell me they'll be there for me no matter what - they don't really know this side of me and if they did, I would just drain the life out of them. This voice tells me that my hopes and dreams and projects - like ChuChi - are all stupid and worthless and I'm just going to screw it up and embarrass myself.
But, unlike Chronic Depression, BD is more than just extreme sadness. One of the worst, for me, is the bouts of rage. I've punched walls and once broke my hand in a fit of uncontrollable rage. I feel hate and disgust and get to this point, for some unknown reason, where everything my mom says and does simply drives me up the wall to an almost blinding fury. When coupled with a mix of depression, I begin to inwardly hate...absolutely LOATHE myself. It's been over 7 years since I've self harmed, but in the past, I have resorted to mild cutting, poking myself with thumb tacks and just hitting or biting myself where no one else would be able to see the marks. One time, I raked my keys over my wrists numerous times until I scraped the skin badly enough to bleed. I've only confessed this to my mother and doctor this past month. But again, I can at least say that the self mutilation has not occurred in years. That inner monologue continues, but much more passionately than the sorrowful whining of depression.
Sometimes, I just go numb. It's like my emotions wall up and I have no care, no love, no apathy. I simply exist. I find no joy in the things I love to do - I simply go through the motions to keep my mind busy. I saw some funny pictures online and laughed, but realized that even my laugh sounded completely hollow and foreign.
And then, my one and only perk of BD: Mania. Now, these symptoms are a bit different for everyone, I would assume, but I've personally never experienced a mania that I didn't like. I am happy, SUPER productive and full of natural energy. I love everyone and everything and life is wonderful! People love to be around me when I am like this, and I clean the house to perfection and I'm at my very funniest and goofiest and usually have everyone around me cracking up. I am hopeful and optimistic and I can conquer the WORLD! In fact, this project was very likely created during a moment of mania, which I'm sure is pretty easy to understand.
I don't usually recognize a manic episode because that is when I feel the most like "me"...it's not until the mania wears off that I slip into depression or rage and realize what was happening, and then I'm stuck wondering "Which is the real me? What if the real me isn't the sunshine and rainbows part, but one of the others?"
For the longest time, my medication has worked well and I've been pretty stable for years. However, earlier this year, I began experiencing bouts of depression or anger or mania that were just slightly more extreme than usual. I was put on an anti-anxiety medication to help with mild side-effects and that seemed to help in the moment...but over the past few months, these episodes have increased in quantity, intensity and duration until finally, early November, I asked my Doctor if he could increase my dosage. Since I was already at the maximum dosage, he decided to change me to a new medication.
Now, the switch between medications is usually rough - but I had never experienced anything quite like this. I sunk into a serious depression and was dealing with thoughts of suicide on a daily basis. Now, I'd like to clarify something: THINKING about suicide and PLANNING to commit suicide are very different things. For example, I see Robert Pattinson and THINK about tearing his clothes off and having my way with him...but I have no intentions to actually do it. This is similar...it was a constant thought, swirling around in my head...but I had no intention of doing it or acting on it. Despite my emotions, I was clear headed enough to know that was not the answer, it would be selfish, and it would hurt others.
A week after switching to the new medication, my doctor was out of town on vacation, so I asked my mom to take me to Urgent Care so that I could ask for a higher dosage, or SOME kind of help to get me through it. The nurse asked me how severe it was and I admitted to having dark thoughts. Next thing I know, I'm being Baker Acted - which is a mandatory commitment to an asylum for at least 72 hours based on the "fact" that I pose a risk to myself and others.
Needless to say, being treated like I was crazy, dangerous and unable to care for myself because I was honest in seeking help did NOT help my predicament. I flew into a rage so powerful that my mom questioned my sanity and suggested that being hospitalized might be the best thing for me.
That sobered me up.
Luckily, I managed to swing my attitude around so that I was more manic. Its not usually that easy for me, but I guess it was a fight or flight response, and the adrenaline rush worked in my favor. While I was supposed to be out with my friends at the long awaited premiere of The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2, I was in a hospital ER awaiting placement in a facility. I managed to joke around and tease the doctors and nurses and hold the tears at bay until another doctor saw me and claimed that there was no need for the psychiatric hold, releasing me with orders to double my medication...as I had requested ten hours earlier at the Urgent Care center.
Hrumph.
By now, it was Thanksgiving week, so I was trying to find a psychiatrist who could help me but I had to wait till early December. Luckily, I turned a bit manic the day before Thanksgiving and made it through the holiday on a high.
When I finally saw a psychiatrist for the first time, he explained that the medication my Primary Care Physician had put me on was meant for Chronic Depression - NOT Bipolar Disorder - and it could explain why my symptoms became worse. He subscribed a medication that knocked me out for two weeks - leaving me sleeping upwards of 15 hours a day and lethargic the rest of the time.
As of December 12th, I have been switched again and over the past week, my parents and I are all starting to see an improvement. It's scary, because everyday that I feel good, I worry that it's mania setting in, foreshadowing more rage or depression...but so far, I've been steady.
In the meantime, my father has been experiencing continuing trouble since his knee replacement surgery and is now in the hospital for the fourth time since October. He is undergoing surgery today - Christmas Eve - and will be in the hospital through New Year's. Due to my Bipolar Disorder, I've been unable to work and my Dad is still on extended Medical Leave for his knee - which means that we are hardly bringing in any income right now. All of this has added to my stress and worries, making thoughts of shopping healthy and such null and void in the grand scheme of things, when we are shopping on a very tight budget. My brother has taken my nieces on a tropical cruise, so not only has he not come by the hospital or called, but we will not be seeing them for Christmas. My aunt and her father are both in the hospital.
It doesn't feel like the holidays at all.
So, folks...it's not that I've given up. I mean...maybe I did for a little while...but I have to believe that that's not the real me. Things are just harder than expected, and I haven't been in a place to fight through it and focus on my weight loss at the same time. But, they're turning around...they're getting better...and soon, I'll be back on the bandwagon.
For those of you who have stuck with me and randomly shouted out to wish me well over the past month...you have no idea how deeply your support touched me at a very, very dark time.
For those of you who know me personally - please don't look at me differently. I'm the same girl you knew and loved...you just know me a little better now, that's all. There is no need to worry about me - to have gotten through the shit I've gotten through this past month - I am hella strong and I'm not going anywhere. My head's a little messed up, but my heart is fine and it is here to stay, so stick with me.
I hope that you all have had a much better year, and I wish you the happiest of happies and the merriest of merries. Hang in there...ChuChi will be making a comeback soon enough!
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Nov. 25: Healing...
I've been afraid to write this blog.
For one, although I am "anonymous" - many of my Chubby Chasers are real life friends and family, which means that I am not nearly as anonymous as I may originally seem. What I say on this blog and this site can impact the way people look, think about or treat me in real life. It can affect my relationships and my reputation.
However, when I started this journey as the Chubby Chick, I said that I wouldn't have any secrets and that I wouldn't lie to you. If there is something that is impacting my weight, my health or my overall journey, I promised that I would share it with you or I may as well not even bother doing this. It's an all or nothing thing, right? If I'm going to half ass it, I may as well just throw in the towel.
As of this moment, I have 49 Chubby Chasers, I've earned $376.90 for seven different charities and I've lost over 35 pounds in less than four months.
I'm not throwing in the damn towel.
So, with that being said, I hope that those of you who know me personally will not look at me any differently. I am not asking for your sympathy or pity either. And, if at all possible - please don't spread what you learn here to anyone else outside of the Chubby Chaser circle. I'm trusting you with this information because you have chosen to support me in my weight loss journey and because you have stood on the front line and been the first ones to challenge me and make pledges and follow through on your pledges to charity.
First, the good news. Although you have not really heard much from me since the beginning of the month...although I have not been on a strict diet and exercise regiment...I have managed to maintain my weight at approximately 330 - 332 lbs, which is where I began the month.
As a teenager, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder - otherwise known as Manic Depression. I am going to write this blog for those of you who know nothing about the disorder or its treatment so, for those of you who are more familiar with it, this may seem a little elementary.
Most people are a bit more familiar with Depression - which is a feeling of sadness. When you are clinically depressed, the feeling of sadness may come on for no particular reason, or it may be overwhelming wear you simply can't come out of it. Severe depression can last for days, weeks or months at a time and may lead to thoughts of self harm or suicide if left untreated.
Clinical Depression is just a part of Bipolar Disorder.
Bipolor Disorder is often referred to as Manic Depression because you can also experience episodes of "Mania" - extreme hyper activity, happiness, joy, laughter, productivity. Personally, I never have more fun, nor am I more fun to hang out with when I am experiencing this kind of mania.
But, there is a flip side to this mania, and it literally comes on in the blink of an eye. It's agitation, irritability, aggravation, anger and full on, irrational, illogical and blinding rage. In a healthy state of mind, I am a peaceful, non-confrontational person who will often take abuse just to avoid having to confront someone to stand up for myself but, when the mania sets in, I am so full of hate and loathing and violence that I want to hurt someone. I usually have just enough of "me" left inside that I have never physically hurt someone in one of these rages...but I've sadly made my mother cry and I've actually broken my pinky finger by punching a concrete wall once.
So, although I've been on prescription medication since I was a teenager, every so often, I'll get another medication for asthma or allergies or something, and a drug interaction might cause my mood prescription to stop working as well. So I have to switch. Or, maybe...after a few year of using a particular mood prescription, I start developing a tolerance...so I need a new dosage. Another time, after I had gained a couple of hundred pounds, we found that excessive weight gain was a huge side effect of my mood enhancer - so the doctor thought we should try something else to see if that would help me to get the weight down.
Recently, I've noticed that my mood prescription hasn't been as helpful as it has in the past. I've been having more bouts of depression and anger and less periods of stabilization. So, my doctor decided to change my prescription to something new. He advised me to start the new prescription immediately and started me at the lowest dose possible.
A few days after starting my new medication, I went into a happy, productive mania - but did not recognize the symptoms. I mean, who EVER complains when they are euphoric and productive? It wasn't after three days of euphoric happiness that I crashed and realized what was happening. I left a message for my doctor's office, but didn't hear back. It was Thursday, and I had already missed two days of work.
I called and left another message on Friday - again, with no response. That night, I started having scary thoughts.
For those of you who have never experienced severe depression - there is a big difference between having suicidal thoughts and BEING suicidal. The best way I can explain is - for any woman who saw the movie "Magic Mike" - thinking about stripping Channing Tatum, throwing him down on the bed and having your way with him does not constitute a PLAN for actually raping him.
A thought does not always equal a plan or intent.
By Saturday, my thoughts had turned dark, against my will. This means that - although I was coherent, rational and logical and I knew that suicide was by no means the answer - it was on my mind.
Upon my request, my mother drove me to Urgent Care so that I could speak to a doctor about upping my new medication to the next dose. If I had been familiar with it, I would have just done it on my own - but since it was new and I didn't know much about it, I just wanted to speak to a doctor before doubling up on it. I was just trying to be responsible.
So, we go to Urgent Care and in the triage, the woman asks if I am suicidal. I am trying to get my meds upped, so I assume it will be best to be honest. I tell her I have no desire to kill myself, but I do have dark thoughts. She asks me what thoughts and I explain that the sleeping pill thing crossed my mind a day or so ago. She takes me to my bed where I wait to see the doctor.
The doctor comes by and asks me if I want to kill myself. I say no. She asks me why I told the triage nurse that I did. Now, I'm getting pissed. I explain that I never told her I wanted to kill myself - I just explained that I've been feeling down and having dark thoughts, but that I have no desire to hurt myself and that is why I am here to ask if I can up my meds. The doctor says it sounds suspicious because now I am changing my story. Now, I'm losing my temper. I say I'm not changing my story - a couple of days ago, I had a thought about taking sleeping pills - I didn't do it, I have no desire to do it, that why I didn't do it, that's why I'm still alive and if I wanted to hurt myself I wouldn't ask my mom to drive me to a hospital so that I could ask a doctor if it would be safe for me to take an extra pill.
The doctor leaves.
I start bawling cuz I'm scared shitless. Mom tells me I shouldn't have told them I was having dark thoughts, cuz now they think I'm crazy...which makes me cry harder. Mom tells me I shouldn't be crying because it's only going to make them think worse, which pisses me off, so I stop crying, wipe my eyes and kick my shoes off.
Mom tells me not to get mad because my sudden mood swings are going to make them think they are right. Now I'm even madder. I can feel my face changing color and I feel like "HULK, SMASH!" and my mom's eyes bug out and she says "I don't know - maybe you need to go..." Which makes me sad because I'm scaring her and hurts my feelings because she's saying she things I'm crazy and makes me made because she won't stop talking and I'm mad for being honest and I'm mad for asking her to bring me here and I'm mad for not just taking an extra pill instead of trying to do the right thing and I'm mad because I lost my license and I'm mad because I think it's too late for me to just grab my shit and run for the door and...
Mom starts tearing up and I take a deep breath, trying to get myself under control - willing my face to return to the normal control so I don't look crazy anymore, even though my heart is pounding. The doctor pulls the curtain wide open and she is there with what looks like two nurses and a security guard.
"You're going to Baker Act me." I claim, as calm as I can, although the tears are already beginning to fall.
For those of you not in the know, Baker Act is a Florida Statute that allows you to place someone in a Psychiatric hold for no less than 72 hours if a family member or medical professional deems them to be a danger to themselves or others.
"I'm sorry, but we can't take a risk-" She starts.
"Even though I've told you I have no intention to hurt myself and I came here to ask for permission to up my meds so that I specifically would not harm myself?" I asked.
"You said you had intentions to take sleeping pills."
"And there's nothing I can do about it? At this point, I'm a prisoner, is that correct? If I were to try to get up and walk out that door, you're going to what? Have him tackle me? Sedate me? Tie me to a bed like some lunatic all because I came here and asked you for help?" I asked, indignant tears pouring down my cheeks.
I have to admit, she looked a little embarrassed at that one. "Yes, he would try to stop you."
"Fine. Do whatever you have to do." I started bawling in front of all of them, but you're not really given much dignity after that anyway. One of the nurses came right up in my face and started babying, rubbing my shoulder and telling me it was going to be alright. Like I said - although your moods are all over the place - you are logical and rational...you are just not always capable of behaving in the most rational, logical way. So, I stayed quiet for as long as I could and allowed her to placate me - it felt for an hour, but it was probably less than a minute, before I asked her to stop. I thought I did it pretty nicely, consider what was going down, but mom told me later I pretty much barked at her.
The guard got me a gown and some socks, gave me a second to change and from that point forward, my curtain has to remain opened so that he could monitor me. I have to give it to him, he was pretty cool. Said right from the start he didn't think I was a danger and - although he kept the curtain open and watched me, he didn't require me to stay on the bed and seated and joked with me and mom. In fact - I don't know how I did it...like I've said before, I think my sense of humor is just a form of self defense, but from that point forward, I start joking. I joked about everything. And I laughed. No more crying. No more anger.
Paramedics came to transfer me to a local hospital, and I flirted with them relentelessly. They said there was no way I was a Baker Act and noted as much in their notes. Even said as much to the nurses when I got into the ER. And, therefore, I didn't get paid much attention to in the ER.
They followed protocol, but loosely. For example, the alarm bracelet that they put on Psych patients so that you can't disappear was put so loosely on my wrist that I could slip it off without any effort whatsoever. They joked with me. I missed a girls night out that I had planned, which hurt terribly, and I bawled when I had to tell them why I was going to miss it. But, aside from that, I was lucky to have leveled out. My parents stayed by my side during the ordeal except for about one hour when all visitors had to clear the floor.
That was a tough hour - without any distractions. Fear started taking over as I tried to imagine how I could possibly cope without family and friends in some kind of psych ward all because of some kind of misunderstanding...I almost cried again, but turning my attention on making some of the personnel laugh.
When the doctor came around, the hospital stuff all told him that I was no danger to anybody, so he gave me the option to stay voluntarily instead of being Baker Acted. Apparently, I would keep more rights that way, so I agreed. But, having spoken to me and the ER staff, he placed a call to the Psychologist and instead, they agreed to just up my dosage and release me to the care of my parents, as I was no risk.
That was last Saturday.
It's been a rough week. If you've ever seen the commercials, depression DOES hurt. Aside from the emotions of it all, you really do experience headache and muscle aches, sore stomach, cramps, nausea and other illnesses along with it. Not to mention the hell that you know you are putting other people through. The worry and heartache and hurt my parents have experienced by my side and, I've wanted to be better - if not for me, than for them. It's this constant struggle where neither of us can do anything for the other.
Per the doctors instructions, I've tweaked my meds a little and have finally started to see some results. I still don't feel back to being "me" yet, but I'm on my way. There are some changes that need to be made - I'm not entirely sure that this medicine is the right one for me - regardless of dosage - and its a scary road to travel till I find the right one...but I'm hopeful. Sadly, I've missed two weeks of work and, with not sick time available - that's two weeks of pay I will not be getting right before the holidays. That doesn't help lift my spirits much.
But, don't count me out, folks. I've been through all of this and the Chubby Chick has done ALL that bad, so I must be in it for the long haul, right?
For those of you still in this with me - thank you. I hope that you all have had a much better, brighter Thanksgiving month, and I look forward to making a terrific difference with you in the months ahead.
Most Sincerely,
The "Cheerful" Chubby Chick
For one, although I am "anonymous" - many of my Chubby Chasers are real life friends and family, which means that I am not nearly as anonymous as I may originally seem. What I say on this blog and this site can impact the way people look, think about or treat me in real life. It can affect my relationships and my reputation.
However, when I started this journey as the Chubby Chick, I said that I wouldn't have any secrets and that I wouldn't lie to you. If there is something that is impacting my weight, my health or my overall journey, I promised that I would share it with you or I may as well not even bother doing this. It's an all or nothing thing, right? If I'm going to half ass it, I may as well just throw in the towel.
As of this moment, I have 49 Chubby Chasers, I've earned $376.90 for seven different charities and I've lost over 35 pounds in less than four months.
I'm not throwing in the damn towel.
So, with that being said, I hope that those of you who know me personally will not look at me any differently. I am not asking for your sympathy or pity either. And, if at all possible - please don't spread what you learn here to anyone else outside of the Chubby Chaser circle. I'm trusting you with this information because you have chosen to support me in my weight loss journey and because you have stood on the front line and been the first ones to challenge me and make pledges and follow through on your pledges to charity.
First, the good news. Although you have not really heard much from me since the beginning of the month...although I have not been on a strict diet and exercise regiment...I have managed to maintain my weight at approximately 330 - 332 lbs, which is where I began the month.
As a teenager, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder - otherwise known as Manic Depression. I am going to write this blog for those of you who know nothing about the disorder or its treatment so, for those of you who are more familiar with it, this may seem a little elementary.
Most people are a bit more familiar with Depression - which is a feeling of sadness. When you are clinically depressed, the feeling of sadness may come on for no particular reason, or it may be overwhelming wear you simply can't come out of it. Severe depression can last for days, weeks or months at a time and may lead to thoughts of self harm or suicide if left untreated.
Clinical Depression is just a part of Bipolar Disorder.
Bipolor Disorder is often referred to as Manic Depression because you can also experience episodes of "Mania" - extreme hyper activity, happiness, joy, laughter, productivity. Personally, I never have more fun, nor am I more fun to hang out with when I am experiencing this kind of mania.
But, there is a flip side to this mania, and it literally comes on in the blink of an eye. It's agitation, irritability, aggravation, anger and full on, irrational, illogical and blinding rage. In a healthy state of mind, I am a peaceful, non-confrontational person who will often take abuse just to avoid having to confront someone to stand up for myself but, when the mania sets in, I am so full of hate and loathing and violence that I want to hurt someone. I usually have just enough of "me" left inside that I have never physically hurt someone in one of these rages...but I've sadly made my mother cry and I've actually broken my pinky finger by punching a concrete wall once.
So, although I've been on prescription medication since I was a teenager, every so often, I'll get another medication for asthma or allergies or something, and a drug interaction might cause my mood prescription to stop working as well. So I have to switch. Or, maybe...after a few year of using a particular mood prescription, I start developing a tolerance...so I need a new dosage. Another time, after I had gained a couple of hundred pounds, we found that excessive weight gain was a huge side effect of my mood enhancer - so the doctor thought we should try something else to see if that would help me to get the weight down.
Recently, I've noticed that my mood prescription hasn't been as helpful as it has in the past. I've been having more bouts of depression and anger and less periods of stabilization. So, my doctor decided to change my prescription to something new. He advised me to start the new prescription immediately and started me at the lowest dose possible.
A few days after starting my new medication, I went into a happy, productive mania - but did not recognize the symptoms. I mean, who EVER complains when they are euphoric and productive? It wasn't after three days of euphoric happiness that I crashed and realized what was happening. I left a message for my doctor's office, but didn't hear back. It was Thursday, and I had already missed two days of work.
I called and left another message on Friday - again, with no response. That night, I started having scary thoughts.
For those of you who have never experienced severe depression - there is a big difference between having suicidal thoughts and BEING suicidal. The best way I can explain is - for any woman who saw the movie "Magic Mike" - thinking about stripping Channing Tatum, throwing him down on the bed and having your way with him does not constitute a PLAN for actually raping him.
A thought does not always equal a plan or intent.
By Saturday, my thoughts had turned dark, against my will. This means that - although I was coherent, rational and logical and I knew that suicide was by no means the answer - it was on my mind.
Upon my request, my mother drove me to Urgent Care so that I could speak to a doctor about upping my new medication to the next dose. If I had been familiar with it, I would have just done it on my own - but since it was new and I didn't know much about it, I just wanted to speak to a doctor before doubling up on it. I was just trying to be responsible.
So, we go to Urgent Care and in the triage, the woman asks if I am suicidal. I am trying to get my meds upped, so I assume it will be best to be honest. I tell her I have no desire to kill myself, but I do have dark thoughts. She asks me what thoughts and I explain that the sleeping pill thing crossed my mind a day or so ago. She takes me to my bed where I wait to see the doctor.
The doctor comes by and asks me if I want to kill myself. I say no. She asks me why I told the triage nurse that I did. Now, I'm getting pissed. I explain that I never told her I wanted to kill myself - I just explained that I've been feeling down and having dark thoughts, but that I have no desire to hurt myself and that is why I am here to ask if I can up my meds. The doctor says it sounds suspicious because now I am changing my story. Now, I'm losing my temper. I say I'm not changing my story - a couple of days ago, I had a thought about taking sleeping pills - I didn't do it, I have no desire to do it, that why I didn't do it, that's why I'm still alive and if I wanted to hurt myself I wouldn't ask my mom to drive me to a hospital so that I could ask a doctor if it would be safe for me to take an extra pill.
The doctor leaves.
I start bawling cuz I'm scared shitless. Mom tells me I shouldn't have told them I was having dark thoughts, cuz now they think I'm crazy...which makes me cry harder. Mom tells me I shouldn't be crying because it's only going to make them think worse, which pisses me off, so I stop crying, wipe my eyes and kick my shoes off.
Mom tells me not to get mad because my sudden mood swings are going to make them think they are right. Now I'm even madder. I can feel my face changing color and I feel like "HULK, SMASH!" and my mom's eyes bug out and she says "I don't know - maybe you need to go..." Which makes me sad because I'm scaring her and hurts my feelings because she's saying she things I'm crazy and makes me made because she won't stop talking and I'm mad for being honest and I'm mad for asking her to bring me here and I'm mad for not just taking an extra pill instead of trying to do the right thing and I'm mad because I lost my license and I'm mad because I think it's too late for me to just grab my shit and run for the door and...
Mom starts tearing up and I take a deep breath, trying to get myself under control - willing my face to return to the normal control so I don't look crazy anymore, even though my heart is pounding. The doctor pulls the curtain wide open and she is there with what looks like two nurses and a security guard.
"You're going to Baker Act me." I claim, as calm as I can, although the tears are already beginning to fall.
For those of you not in the know, Baker Act is a Florida Statute that allows you to place someone in a Psychiatric hold for no less than 72 hours if a family member or medical professional deems them to be a danger to themselves or others.
"I'm sorry, but we can't take a risk-" She starts.
"Even though I've told you I have no intention to hurt myself and I came here to ask for permission to up my meds so that I specifically would not harm myself?" I asked.
"You said you had intentions to take sleeping pills."
"And there's nothing I can do about it? At this point, I'm a prisoner, is that correct? If I were to try to get up and walk out that door, you're going to what? Have him tackle me? Sedate me? Tie me to a bed like some lunatic all because I came here and asked you for help?" I asked, indignant tears pouring down my cheeks.
I have to admit, she looked a little embarrassed at that one. "Yes, he would try to stop you."
"Fine. Do whatever you have to do." I started bawling in front of all of them, but you're not really given much dignity after that anyway. One of the nurses came right up in my face and started babying, rubbing my shoulder and telling me it was going to be alright. Like I said - although your moods are all over the place - you are logical and rational...you are just not always capable of behaving in the most rational, logical way. So, I stayed quiet for as long as I could and allowed her to placate me - it felt for an hour, but it was probably less than a minute, before I asked her to stop. I thought I did it pretty nicely, consider what was going down, but mom told me later I pretty much barked at her.
The guard got me a gown and some socks, gave me a second to change and from that point forward, my curtain has to remain opened so that he could monitor me. I have to give it to him, he was pretty cool. Said right from the start he didn't think I was a danger and - although he kept the curtain open and watched me, he didn't require me to stay on the bed and seated and joked with me and mom. In fact - I don't know how I did it...like I've said before, I think my sense of humor is just a form of self defense, but from that point forward, I start joking. I joked about everything. And I laughed. No more crying. No more anger.
Paramedics came to transfer me to a local hospital, and I flirted with them relentelessly. They said there was no way I was a Baker Act and noted as much in their notes. Even said as much to the nurses when I got into the ER. And, therefore, I didn't get paid much attention to in the ER.
They followed protocol, but loosely. For example, the alarm bracelet that they put on Psych patients so that you can't disappear was put so loosely on my wrist that I could slip it off without any effort whatsoever. They joked with me. I missed a girls night out that I had planned, which hurt terribly, and I bawled when I had to tell them why I was going to miss it. But, aside from that, I was lucky to have leveled out. My parents stayed by my side during the ordeal except for about one hour when all visitors had to clear the floor.
That was a tough hour - without any distractions. Fear started taking over as I tried to imagine how I could possibly cope without family and friends in some kind of psych ward all because of some kind of misunderstanding...I almost cried again, but turning my attention on making some of the personnel laugh.
When the doctor came around, the hospital stuff all told him that I was no danger to anybody, so he gave me the option to stay voluntarily instead of being Baker Acted. Apparently, I would keep more rights that way, so I agreed. But, having spoken to me and the ER staff, he placed a call to the Psychologist and instead, they agreed to just up my dosage and release me to the care of my parents, as I was no risk.
That was last Saturday.
It's been a rough week. If you've ever seen the commercials, depression DOES hurt. Aside from the emotions of it all, you really do experience headache and muscle aches, sore stomach, cramps, nausea and other illnesses along with it. Not to mention the hell that you know you are putting other people through. The worry and heartache and hurt my parents have experienced by my side and, I've wanted to be better - if not for me, than for them. It's this constant struggle where neither of us can do anything for the other.
Per the doctors instructions, I've tweaked my meds a little and have finally started to see some results. I still don't feel back to being "me" yet, but I'm on my way. There are some changes that need to be made - I'm not entirely sure that this medicine is the right one for me - regardless of dosage - and its a scary road to travel till I find the right one...but I'm hopeful. Sadly, I've missed two weeks of work and, with not sick time available - that's two weeks of pay I will not be getting right before the holidays. That doesn't help lift my spirits much.
But, don't count me out, folks. I've been through all of this and the Chubby Chick has done ALL that bad, so I must be in it for the long haul, right?
For those of you still in this with me - thank you. I hope that you all have had a much better, brighter Thanksgiving month, and I look forward to making a terrific difference with you in the months ahead.
Most Sincerely,
The "Cheerful" Chubby Chick
Friday, November 2, 2012
An Ode To Excuses...
As of the beginning of October-
There were moments when I'd be strong enough to put a little umph into it. But the moments I had the emotional aptitude to try were fleeting - none of them even lasting an entire day. My weakest moments were early in the morning before sunrise when I'd wake up exhausted and unable to breathe and head down stairs to snack while watching television. On other days, I'd manage to eat healthy, small portions all day long only to give in and binge as soon as the sun set.
You all know that September was rough for me but October just seemed to kick me when I was down. I still managed to lose a few pounds; according to my October 29th weigh in, I was down from 337.9 to 325.1 pounds. That's a total weight loss of 12.8 for the month of October, but I don't really take much joy in it because I've been totally eating unhealthy, have only exercised once or twice all month and have lost track of how many times I've binged.
I'm even more sad because I thought for sure that broadcasting my success and failure for everyone to see would make it harder for me to fail. After all, how many people would I be dissappointing when I screwed up this time around? But, I guess not even that is enough. My Chubby Chasers are simply too nice, caring and supportive. I knew I could fail and you all would just give me hugs and cheer me on, trying to motivate me to do better next month because you're all wonderful like that.
So, I was downstairs at 4 am this morning snacking on Fritos and Halloween candy while thumbing through the DVR to find something to watch. There wasn't anything that caught my attention, so I flipped on "The Doctors" and settled into the recliner with the chips. I remember thinking they were too freaking salty, but I kept eating them anyway.
And of course, the episode is about overwriting your genetic code to be healthier. Eating a tablespoon less salt per day can save you from stroke or heart attack. Children of obese parents are less likely to be obese if they participate in team sports. Stuff like that.
The first segment features the photographer from the band "Foster the People". The lead singer dared the photographer to lose 80 lbs in 8 months. If he succeeds, he promised to pay him $20,000. So, out of nowhere, this photographer has turned his life around - he's been going for walks and has filled his refrigerator with baby spring greens and broccolli slaw (both things that were in my fridge and went bad because I stopped eating them), and he's lost 13 lbs in less than a month. Sound familiar? And the doctors say "Well, what is motivating everyone else to turn their life around, if they're not going to get $20,000 at the end of it, too?"
And I thought to myself "I have terrific people willing to donate money to charity just to support me, and I'm throwing it all away. I have what most people don't have, and I'm wasting that precious motivation!"
I closed up the Fritos, turned off the TV and came up to my computer to start writing to you all. I want to be that person again. I want to be inspirational and motivational and not some sorry loser sitting on the couch pigging out. I wanted to write down all of my excuses to take the power out of them...those excuses have already been used. They are past their expiration date and are no longer valid.
I'm not even waiting till "tomorrow". So what, I started off my morning with chocolate and Fritos? Doesn't mean I have to wait till tomorrow to get back on track! I don't need a freaking "clean slate". I just need to get my ass back in some sneakers and get to moving!
So what, I don't have money or a car in order to go on a shopping expedition for healthy foods? I'll just have to make the best choices I can with what I have.
Okay, folks...I know I've "rebooted" a couple of times already...and I'm sure some of you have already given up on me, and that's okay because I gave up on me too. But...I'm just going to have to do my best to earn you all back. More importantly, I'm going to have to do my best to impress myself.
Wish me luck. ;o)
- My mother's ankle had healed just enough to the point where she could walk and start driving again.
- My father's knee had healed well enough that he could be released from rehab.
- My job informed me that I was going to be demoted and face a drastic pay cut due to the amount of work I missed on account of my parents' injuries.
- I met a great guy and went on five wonderful dates in eight days.
- In addition, he met my parents, who really, really liked him.
- He went out of his way to treat me better than a man has ever treated me.
- He met my friends who all thought he was fantastic and already made future plans for a couples night.
- I was pulled over for having an expired tag.
- I could not, for the love of God, locate my registration information or my insurance card where I normally keep them.
- I was informed that I was driving on a suspended license for unpaid tickets that I was not aware of.
- I could have been arrested on the spot but instead, my license was taken away from me, I had to call my parents to pick me up, my car can not be driven until all of this is fixed and I earned four more tickets.
- I learned that paying the tickets, late fees, driver's courses and everything else needed to get my license reinstated and my registration renewed would cost over $1,000 (and right before the holidays hit). Therefore, my paychecks for October were all spent before they were even earned.
- I picked up any and all extra shifts or extra hours that I possibly could in order to earn extra money and get out of this hole. Ultimately, this means that the only time I was out of the house was spent working.
- The guy I was crazy about had some personal things he had to take care of and since I basically had nothing to offer at the time (I couldn't drive to meet him halfway, I couldn't pay for anything) - I was unable to see him for over two weeks - sending my insecurity levels sky-rocketing.
- My allergies began acting up to the point where I could not inhale through my nose at all. Allergy medication, prescription nose spray, cold and flu meds...nothing would work long term to clear up my sinuses.
- My mom found out that her white counts were up high and that her PTINR (blood thinner levels) were dangerously high as well. (Her blood is now down to an acceptable level, but we are still waiting for word on what to do about her white counts)
- Day after day I dealt with a nose that was simultaneously stuffy and runny. It caused my asthma to become much worse and made it impossible to get a good night's sleep.
- I was now dealing with two additional factors from all the stress: for one, I am now clenching my teeth non-stop for almost 24 hours a day and two, I had a cold sore.
- When I finally got to see the great guy again, I was so exhausted from working 22 of the past 36 hours and being sleep deprived and stressed out that I couldn't seem to get my "head in the game". Plus, I had a cold sore, I couldn't breathe through my nose and I had to use tissues all night long to either blow or wipe my runny nose.
- My parents discovered that my mom's insurance was dropping her because my father's company neglected to provide them the accurate documentation ahead of time. (This has since been remedied, thank God)
- I've lost my phone and have no insurance. My phone was what I used to update MyFitnessPal.com and the app on there is what I used to walk with to calculate my time, speed, calories burned, etc.
There were moments when I'd be strong enough to put a little umph into it. But the moments I had the emotional aptitude to try were fleeting - none of them even lasting an entire day. My weakest moments were early in the morning before sunrise when I'd wake up exhausted and unable to breathe and head down stairs to snack while watching television. On other days, I'd manage to eat healthy, small portions all day long only to give in and binge as soon as the sun set.
You all know that September was rough for me but October just seemed to kick me when I was down. I still managed to lose a few pounds; according to my October 29th weigh in, I was down from 337.9 to 325.1 pounds. That's a total weight loss of 12.8 for the month of October, but I don't really take much joy in it because I've been totally eating unhealthy, have only exercised once or twice all month and have lost track of how many times I've binged.
I'm even more sad because I thought for sure that broadcasting my success and failure for everyone to see would make it harder for me to fail. After all, how many people would I be dissappointing when I screwed up this time around? But, I guess not even that is enough. My Chubby Chasers are simply too nice, caring and supportive. I knew I could fail and you all would just give me hugs and cheer me on, trying to motivate me to do better next month because you're all wonderful like that.
So, I was downstairs at 4 am this morning snacking on Fritos and Halloween candy while thumbing through the DVR to find something to watch. There wasn't anything that caught my attention, so I flipped on "The Doctors" and settled into the recliner with the chips. I remember thinking they were too freaking salty, but I kept eating them anyway.
And of course, the episode is about overwriting your genetic code to be healthier. Eating a tablespoon less salt per day can save you from stroke or heart attack. Children of obese parents are less likely to be obese if they participate in team sports. Stuff like that.
The first segment features the photographer from the band "Foster the People". The lead singer dared the photographer to lose 80 lbs in 8 months. If he succeeds, he promised to pay him $20,000. So, out of nowhere, this photographer has turned his life around - he's been going for walks and has filled his refrigerator with baby spring greens and broccolli slaw (both things that were in my fridge and went bad because I stopped eating them), and he's lost 13 lbs in less than a month. Sound familiar? And the doctors say "Well, what is motivating everyone else to turn their life around, if they're not going to get $20,000 at the end of it, too?"
And I thought to myself "I have terrific people willing to donate money to charity just to support me, and I'm throwing it all away. I have what most people don't have, and I'm wasting that precious motivation!"
I closed up the Fritos, turned off the TV and came up to my computer to start writing to you all. I want to be that person again. I want to be inspirational and motivational and not some sorry loser sitting on the couch pigging out. I wanted to write down all of my excuses to take the power out of them...those excuses have already been used. They are past their expiration date and are no longer valid.
I'm not even waiting till "tomorrow". So what, I started off my morning with chocolate and Fritos? Doesn't mean I have to wait till tomorrow to get back on track! I don't need a freaking "clean slate". I just need to get my ass back in some sneakers and get to moving!
So what, I don't have money or a car in order to go on a shopping expedition for healthy foods? I'll just have to make the best choices I can with what I have.
Okay, folks...I know I've "rebooted" a couple of times already...and I'm sure some of you have already given up on me, and that's okay because I gave up on me too. But...I'm just going to have to do my best to earn you all back. More importantly, I'm going to have to do my best to impress myself.
INTRODUCING CHUCHI 3.0
Wish me luck. ;o)
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Days 55 & 56: It was the best of times...It was the worst of times...
Howdy All!
Okay, as I mentioned in my last post, I had a date on Saturday morning. I will not be posting details except for how they relate to my diet, excerise and overall well being. I like to be careful when meeting guys for the first time, so I asked him to pick me up at a Denny's near my home. He wanted to meet my parents, so they drove me to the restaurant. Mom and I split a Moons Over My Hammy meal while waiting for him to arrive. He spoke to my parents briefly before we headed out on a three hour ride to the Everglades, stopping once at a fruit stand for me to get a Seven Up (my first soda in two months) and then stopped briefly for a quick bite at McDonald's. Although I wasn't very hungry, we knew we would be unable to eat for few more hours because of the limited choices within Everglades National Park, so I had 8 Chicken McNuggets and 3 Fries. Inside the park, we boarded a Pontoon for a tour of the Buttonwood Canal and it's adjoining waterways. Although I didn't get much exercise, I like to think I at least burned some calories on the two hour ride in the Florida heat. lol After that, he treated me to dinner at a little Mexican restaurant named "Rosita's" and we enjoyed a leisurely drive along a few scenic routes. Enjoyed a couple of hours talking in another small Everglades park before finally heading home around midnight.
So, as you can see, I spent a good fourteen hours of the day with my date, which left little time for anything else. Diet wise, I didn't necessarily make the best options, but I did minimize my consumption, cutting my meals by half for the most part (though my actual calories for the day are nearly impossible to calculate.) In regards to exercise, there was some very, very minimal walking; I would assume I burnt the most calories sweating because of the heat, talking his ear off and laughing 90% of the time. And, in regards to my overeall well-being, I have spent most of the day smiling from ear to ear, optimistic about my possibilities, hopeful, and thankful. I've had extra energy today due in part to my bouyant mood and there *may* be little fluttery feelings in my stomach that have helped to quelch my appetite for the day.
I wasn't able to calm down enough to get to sleep until about 3 am. I found myself awake once again around 4 am and managed to fall back to sleep about an hour later. Despite the sleep deprivation, with the help of a Vitamin Water Energy drink and a banana, I found myself walking on Cloud 9 most of the day. Due to some unforseen circumstances, I was informed that my job will be demoting me down to a lower position and cutting my pay - although they are currently unable to inform me what my new rate of pay will be. My manager has assured me that she will speak to the corporate HR representative, as well as our in house Personnel Manager to find out more details and see if there is anything else that I can do on my part, and in turn, I will be contacting a few people to see what my options are for fighting the demotion. Needless to say, the whole thing was very upsetting and by the time I was released for my lunch break, I had absolutely no appetite. A couple of coworkers managed to cheer me up and, after getting a few really sweet messages from my Saturday date, I was able to return to my happy place.
After work, I grabbed a Slim Fast shake and set about visiting a couple of stores to exchange some items. By the time I got home, it was 8 pm and my energy reserves were completely depleted...honestly feel like I could fall asleep any second. So, aside from the running around I did at work today and the errands I complete afterward - there will be no exercising for me tonight. However, I should be very under my calories for the day, as I've chosen another Slim Fast shake, some cantaloupe and some almonds for my dinner. Although my research has warned me against going under 1200 calories a day, a friend of mine who is studying health and fitness has advised me that she doesn't believe in the "starvation mode" theory. So, my mental compromise is that consuming less than 1200 calories shouldn't hurt me...as long as I don't make a point of doing it too often.
Sadly, today is the last day of September and - although I won't know how I did until my final weigh in tomorrow, I can't help but feel like I've really failed myself and all of you this month. Well, maybe fail is too strong of a word...but I KNOW I could have done better and I most definitely should have tried harder. For that, I am disappointed in myself.
But, I'm learning to let myself feel without letting my feelings slow me down. I can be dissappointed in my failures while not allowing that to interfere with my determination to succeed. I'm going to trip and fall from time to time...it's not always going to be easy. There will be times when I have to struggle against the current to get it done and there will be times that I'm simply too tired and overwhelmed to be my very best. For times like these, I need to learn to feel, forgive, learn, and move on.
Given how much better I did diet wise today, I'd say I'm onto a pretty great start. Wouldn't you?
Okay, as I mentioned in my last post, I had a date on Saturday morning. I will not be posting details except for how they relate to my diet, excerise and overall well being. I like to be careful when meeting guys for the first time, so I asked him to pick me up at a Denny's near my home. He wanted to meet my parents, so they drove me to the restaurant. Mom and I split a Moons Over My Hammy meal while waiting for him to arrive. He spoke to my parents briefly before we headed out on a three hour ride to the Everglades, stopping once at a fruit stand for me to get a Seven Up (my first soda in two months) and then stopped briefly for a quick bite at McDonald's. Although I wasn't very hungry, we knew we would be unable to eat for few more hours because of the limited choices within Everglades National Park, so I had 8 Chicken McNuggets and 3 Fries. Inside the park, we boarded a Pontoon for a tour of the Buttonwood Canal and it's adjoining waterways. Although I didn't get much exercise, I like to think I at least burned some calories on the two hour ride in the Florida heat. lol After that, he treated me to dinner at a little Mexican restaurant named "Rosita's" and we enjoyed a leisurely drive along a few scenic routes. Enjoyed a couple of hours talking in another small Everglades park before finally heading home around midnight.
So, as you can see, I spent a good fourteen hours of the day with my date, which left little time for anything else. Diet wise, I didn't necessarily make the best options, but I did minimize my consumption, cutting my meals by half for the most part (though my actual calories for the day are nearly impossible to calculate.) In regards to exercise, there was some very, very minimal walking; I would assume I burnt the most calories sweating because of the heat, talking his ear off and laughing 90% of the time. And, in regards to my overeall well-being, I have spent most of the day smiling from ear to ear, optimistic about my possibilities, hopeful, and thankful. I've had extra energy today due in part to my bouyant mood and there *may* be little fluttery feelings in my stomach that have helped to quelch my appetite for the day.
I wasn't able to calm down enough to get to sleep until about 3 am. I found myself awake once again around 4 am and managed to fall back to sleep about an hour later. Despite the sleep deprivation, with the help of a Vitamin Water Energy drink and a banana, I found myself walking on Cloud 9 most of the day. Due to some unforseen circumstances, I was informed that my job will be demoting me down to a lower position and cutting my pay - although they are currently unable to inform me what my new rate of pay will be. My manager has assured me that she will speak to the corporate HR representative, as well as our in house Personnel Manager to find out more details and see if there is anything else that I can do on my part, and in turn, I will be contacting a few people to see what my options are for fighting the demotion. Needless to say, the whole thing was very upsetting and by the time I was released for my lunch break, I had absolutely no appetite. A couple of coworkers managed to cheer me up and, after getting a few really sweet messages from my Saturday date, I was able to return to my happy place.
After work, I grabbed a Slim Fast shake and set about visiting a couple of stores to exchange some items. By the time I got home, it was 8 pm and my energy reserves were completely depleted...honestly feel like I could fall asleep any second. So, aside from the running around I did at work today and the errands I complete afterward - there will be no exercising for me tonight. However, I should be very under my calories for the day, as I've chosen another Slim Fast shake, some cantaloupe and some almonds for my dinner. Although my research has warned me against going under 1200 calories a day, a friend of mine who is studying health and fitness has advised me that she doesn't believe in the "starvation mode" theory. So, my mental compromise is that consuming less than 1200 calories shouldn't hurt me...as long as I don't make a point of doing it too often.
Sadly, today is the last day of September and - although I won't know how I did until my final weigh in tomorrow, I can't help but feel like I've really failed myself and all of you this month. Well, maybe fail is too strong of a word...but I KNOW I could have done better and I most definitely should have tried harder. For that, I am disappointed in myself.But, I'm learning to let myself feel without letting my feelings slow me down. I can be dissappointed in my failures while not allowing that to interfere with my determination to succeed. I'm going to trip and fall from time to time...it's not always going to be easy. There will be times when I have to struggle against the current to get it done and there will be times that I'm simply too tired and overwhelmed to be my very best. For times like these, I need to learn to feel, forgive, learn, and move on.
Given how much better I did diet wise today, I'd say I'm onto a pretty great start. Wouldn't you?
October - bring it on!
Friday, September 28, 2012
Day 54: Back On The Wagon
Hey Folks!
My Oh My, what a month!
After my last post, I DID put my nose to the grindstone and work my butt off. The rest of that week, I managed to walk for 30 minutes every single day and was especially careful about what I ate, which put me at 340.3 for my next weigh in. Sadly, my phone was dead that morning and I was running late, so I don't have my normal scale picture...unfortunately, you'll just have to take my word for it.
However, in the process of helping out my mom and dad, working full time, trying to eat right and struggling to get in my 30 minute work out every single day, the stress began taking a toll on me. In my effort not to eat the wrong things, I began coming in too far under calories and either binging to bring my calories up before going to bed, or going to bed on an empty and very unhappy stomach. The sudden change in my work out regimen was giving me shin splints, backaches and neckaches and the stress of it all was totally screwing with my sleep. I think there was a week that went by where I was only able to sleep about 10 hours all week. I was completely exhausted and I am STILL paying for it.
So, this week - I'm realizing that as much as I want to lose weight, I have to wise about the way I go about it. I want to be HEALTHY...not risk my well being just for a drop on the scale. So, I've been as smart as I can about my meal choices - eaten light and healthy whenever I'm at home or have the ability to pack something and then just trying to tweak the things I order while on the run - sticking with basic hard tacos because they are only 200 calories each, or requesting whole wheat pasta instead of regular pasta. It's not as good as I WAS doing, but it's not as bad as I could be doing, either. As for exercise, I've been getting my walking in, even if it's only a few minutes at a time - up and down hallways at the Rehab facility, around the block while my mom and dad visit, walking laps at work while I take care of the Liquor Store or offering to put back the groceries that are out of place so that I can keep myself moving for a half an hour to an hour. Standing at my register or watching the front door while doing lunges or just bouncing in place. It's little things, but it's still more than I was doing when I started.
I don't know how my weigh in will go for the month. I'm more confident in the number of work outs I did in September than I am in the actual amount of weight I was able to lose. But either way - effort was made, improvements were made and this time is behind me - all I can do is move forward and do better.
As of this afternoon, my Dad is home from Rehab and able to walk without assistance. My mom has been walking a little without the boot and can do most things without my help now and for the first time all month, I am allowing myself a night to go out with my friends and have some fun! Tomorrow, life will begin to return to a more normal pace and I can turn some of the focus off of my parents and back onto my own health and wellness.
And, just a nibble of what's going on in my social life...I've recently been really hitting it off with someone that I've met on a dating site. We talked online for a while and in the past week and a half, we have started texting and chatting on the phone every day. We will meet for the first time tomorrow morning as he takes me for a day of adventure in the Florida Everglades. :o) I am very excited and, if nothing more, I am incredibly glad to have a new friend that I have so very much in common with. I don't know how much I will be talking about that on my blog but, as it is something that may or may not affect my eating and work out habits, I thought it was worth a mention. So, there you have it, all! I really, sincerely hope that I can get back on track now and be done with these petty excuses for doing anything less than my absolute best!
Kisses and Squishes!
Your ChuChi
My Oh My, what a month!
After my last post, I DID put my nose to the grindstone and work my butt off. The rest of that week, I managed to walk for 30 minutes every single day and was especially careful about what I ate, which put me at 340.3 for my next weigh in. Sadly, my phone was dead that morning and I was running late, so I don't have my normal scale picture...unfortunately, you'll just have to take my word for it.
However, in the process of helping out my mom and dad, working full time, trying to eat right and struggling to get in my 30 minute work out every single day, the stress began taking a toll on me. In my effort not to eat the wrong things, I began coming in too far under calories and either binging to bring my calories up before going to bed, or going to bed on an empty and very unhappy stomach. The sudden change in my work out regimen was giving me shin splints, backaches and neckaches and the stress of it all was totally screwing with my sleep. I think there was a week that went by where I was only able to sleep about 10 hours all week. I was completely exhausted and I am STILL paying for it.
So, this week - I'm realizing that as much as I want to lose weight, I have to wise about the way I go about it. I want to be HEALTHY...not risk my well being just for a drop on the scale. So, I've been as smart as I can about my meal choices - eaten light and healthy whenever I'm at home or have the ability to pack something and then just trying to tweak the things I order while on the run - sticking with basic hard tacos because they are only 200 calories each, or requesting whole wheat pasta instead of regular pasta. It's not as good as I WAS doing, but it's not as bad as I could be doing, either. As for exercise, I've been getting my walking in, even if it's only a few minutes at a time - up and down hallways at the Rehab facility, around the block while my mom and dad visit, walking laps at work while I take care of the Liquor Store or offering to put back the groceries that are out of place so that I can keep myself moving for a half an hour to an hour. Standing at my register or watching the front door while doing lunges or just bouncing in place. It's little things, but it's still more than I was doing when I started.
I don't know how my weigh in will go for the month. I'm more confident in the number of work outs I did in September than I am in the actual amount of weight I was able to lose. But either way - effort was made, improvements were made and this time is behind me - all I can do is move forward and do better.
As of this afternoon, my Dad is home from Rehab and able to walk without assistance. My mom has been walking a little without the boot and can do most things without my help now and for the first time all month, I am allowing myself a night to go out with my friends and have some fun! Tomorrow, life will begin to return to a more normal pace and I can turn some of the focus off of my parents and back onto my own health and wellness.
And, just a nibble of what's going on in my social life...I've recently been really hitting it off with someone that I've met on a dating site. We talked online for a while and in the past week and a half, we have started texting and chatting on the phone every day. We will meet for the first time tomorrow morning as he takes me for a day of adventure in the Florida Everglades. :o) I am very excited and, if nothing more, I am incredibly glad to have a new friend that I have so very much in common with. I don't know how much I will be talking about that on my blog but, as it is something that may or may not affect my eating and work out habits, I thought it was worth a mention. So, there you have it, all! I really, sincerely hope that I can get back on track now and be done with these petty excuses for doing anything less than my absolute best!
Kisses and Squishes!
Your ChuChi
Monday, September 17, 2012
Day 43: Introducing, ChuChi 2.0!!!
I realized this morning that I tend to make mental notes on my walks about things that I want to tell you guys. I don't commune with nature. I don't tune out the world and turn off my inner dialogue to destress. Usually, I'm not even sure I'm present enough to wave to the people I pass along the way. Nope - instead, I spend 30 minutes or so thinking "Oh, I'm gonna tell everyone this," or "Oh, I have a terrific question for my Chubby Chasers!" or "Don't forget to tell them blah, blah, blah."
So, even when I'm not actively talking to you, updating my FB page or blogging, I carry each and every one of with you with me throughout the day. When I'm proud of something, you all silently applaud me in my head. When I'm having a rough spot, I anticipate the kind, supportive, comforting or encouraging words that you all have waiting for me. And, when I don't have the will power to push myself, you all coax and cheer me on. I've spent 30 years looking for the magic diet or work out or gym or pill that would solve my weight problem, but I'm starting to think it was this kind of support that I've been missing all these years. Sure, family and friends always encourage you and want the best for you...but you aren't able to get feedback from each and every one of them multiple times a day, so it's a little different. You all are the magic I've been looking for!
So, with all of this said and done, how did I do?
For those of you challenging me this month - don't go thinking your off this hook cuz I fully intend to lose this weight and STILL come after you money!!! So, get those wallets ready! lol
So, even when I'm not actively talking to you, updating my FB page or blogging, I carry each and every one of with you with me throughout the day. When I'm proud of something, you all silently applaud me in my head. When I'm having a rough spot, I anticipate the kind, supportive, comforting or encouraging words that you all have waiting for me. And, when I don't have the will power to push myself, you all coax and cheer me on. I've spent 30 years looking for the magic diet or work out or gym or pill that would solve my weight problem, but I'm starting to think it was this kind of support that I've been missing all these years. Sure, family and friends always encourage you and want the best for you...but you aren't able to get feedback from each and every one of them multiple times a day, so it's a little different. You all are the magic I've been looking for!
You are My Precious!!!!!
But, enough about you...let's talk about me. lol
Before my walk, I looked into my cardio trainer app and was surprised to see that I burned more calories walking slower/longer than I had walking faster for less time. My 18 minute mile yesterday did not have a postive impact on the calories I burned. :o(
At the beginning of my walk, I noticed that I was experiencing some discomfort in my right foot, heel, ankle and shin. It's wasn't painful or disabling, just a little sore from exercising yesterday. (Even after my morning workout, I ended up doing more walking than usual just in the process of getting things done for the day...) In addition, it was so hot and humid that I felt as if I was trying to breathe underwater. You know how inhaling steam can help clear up chest congestion? It actually started to have the same affect on me - honestly. But, I honestly thought about this little quote I had on Pinterest and just smiled.
With all of these factors in mind, I decided - instead of pushing myself to increase my speed today - that I would instead focus on increasing my time & distance.
I was unable to sleep more than an hour last night, so not even my playlist could get me quite as enthused as I had hoped.
I thought: Today's walk is going to be harder than yesterday. It's not going to be as enjoyable or invigorating. But boy - everyone is going to be so much prouder that I pushed myself through it!
And that's what kept me going...ever time my cardio app would tell me my speed or my distance or my time, I'd think of how proud my Chubby Chasers would be that I kept on going in spite of everything and, eventually, I forgot that my foot and heel and ankle and shin were ever hurting. It wasn't enjoyable, but I still wasn't in a rush for it to end because each tenth of a mile and each minute was a tiny victory for me, and I celebrated with a momentary smile before huffing on.
So, with all of this said and done, how did I do?
39.79 Minutes
1.97 Miles
387 Calories Burned
Average 2.9 mph
3,172 Steps
Not too shabby, am I right? lol
Plus, I noticed during today's walk that the shirt I chose to work out in because it was loose and comfortable...is now too loose and uncomfortable. It was continuously falling off my shoulders and - as I swung my arms with each step - I noticed I could feel the skin of my arms rubbing against the skin of my rib cage because the sleeves were too baggie.
Rest in Peace, comfy baggie workout shirt. :o( tee hee hee
There was one other factor that was motivating me to push myself through this morning's walk. Today is weigh-in and, I must sadly report a 7.6 lb weight gain since last Monday. :o(
I absolutely could not believe it, so I weighed myself over and over again and - although the scale did go lower and lower each consecutive time - it ultimately proved that I did indeed gain weight this week.
Of course, it was disappointing and disheartening. And, of course, I take it very seriously. (I just thought of something - if an event can be disheartening...can it also be heartening? I so need to look that up later...)
However, without making excuses, I must also acknowledge the possibility that I could be retaining water, I may be PMSing or any other number of factors that could account for the weight gain. Ultimately, sitting around and moping about it isn't going to fix anything. If I really have gained almost 8 lbs, I seriously, seriously doubt that it is all water weight...I'm just trying to be realistic without being too hard/too easy on myself.
Instead...now that I'm over the bronchitis and both of my parents are on their way to recovery...I've rebooted myself. Introducing, CHUCHI 2.0! I was starting to slack off on things a little more each day...it was just so much easier to order fast food while I've been running around and, since I was staying under my calories, I kept forgiving myself for little splurges. Thankfully, this was the wake up call that I needed to get my butt back in gear! Hallelujah - I've been saved! tee hee hee
For those of you challenging me this month - don't go thinking your off this hook cuz I fully intend to lose this weight and STILL come after you money!!! So, get those wallets ready! lol
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Day 41 1/5: A Happy Dad and ROCKING Walk!
First of all, a quick update on mom and dad. A family friend loaned us a wheelchair, which not only made it MUCH easier to get my mom around but added to my workout, as I had to lift the heavy thing in and out of the car and wheel her around. Plus, once I got her to my dad's room and situated into the guest chair, I sat down in it and wheeled myself around for the remainder of the visit - even if I just ended up wheeling myself back and forth inside the room, I was constantly moving for a good couple of hours. :o)
My Dad's a clean freak - at home, he never takes less than two showers a day and always smells like men's cologne. Unfortunately, he is on a strict "no shower" policy right now due to the incision. Plus, due to the unhelpfullness of the rehab facility, they've been telling him that they have no wash cloths or shampoo. So, yesterday, I poured some shampoo into a wash cloth and packed it into a plastic bag along with his trimmer. Therefore, when not tooling around in the wheelchair, I spent my time washing, drying and brushing his hair, helping him brush his teeth and shave, and even shaved his back for him. :o) (My father has turned into a hairy beast of a man! lol) It seemed to really have a positive affect on his outlook. In addition to being a goofball and making my parents laugh not stop, it was a very nice visit and felt like it helped put everyone in a good mood.
I have not been sleeping well for the past week so, last night, I gave up and took a single Tylenol PM to help me get to sleep at a decent time. Then, I set my alarm clock for 5 am and took a caffeine pill before going back to sleep. I DO NOT like or encourage people to set their inner clocks with the use of pills - however, with my return to work this upcoming Tuesday, I really needed help to get my body back on track. The sleepless nights until 5 am and then sleeping until noon was starting to take a toll. I know there are other ways to do it but I have enough on my mind right now that I really didn't feel like putting any more effort into it for the time being. :o\ It was a one time thing and, now that life should slowly be returning to normal, it should no longer be a problem. :o)
As I was saying, I woke up at 5 am, took a caffeine pill and then went back to sleep for an hour while I waited for the pill to take affect. I reset my clock for six with the intention of going for a sunrise walk - but the thunder and lightning didn't seem to be in sync with my plans. Instead I woke up, took care of my pets, took care of my mom (who was sleeping peacefully in her recliner) and did a few other things around the house. I also ate some oatmeal to help load up on carbs and to balance out my blood sugar.
The weather was reported to be a delightful 77 degrees outside, but with a humidy level of 90% and increasing chances of rain and thunder storms. By 11:30 am, the sky was overcast but the rain had yet to fall. I woke up my mom to check on her, make sure that she didn't need anything and to let her know that I was going for a walk - then I went for a walk in the park for the first time in over a week. (I've been fitting in walks through hospitals, parking lots and rehab facilities - but this was the first intense walk I've had a chance to take in a while.)
1.54 Miles Walked
Avg Speed of 3.2 mph
Max Speed of 3.7 mph Reached
Min Speed of 2.7 Reached (at 27 minutes in)
2,479 Steps
30 Minutes
My Dad's a clean freak - at home, he never takes less than two showers a day and always smells like men's cologne. Unfortunately, he is on a strict "no shower" policy right now due to the incision. Plus, due to the unhelpfullness of the rehab facility, they've been telling him that they have no wash cloths or shampoo. So, yesterday, I poured some shampoo into a wash cloth and packed it into a plastic bag along with his trimmer. Therefore, when not tooling around in the wheelchair, I spent my time washing, drying and brushing his hair, helping him brush his teeth and shave, and even shaved his back for him. :o) (My father has turned into a hairy beast of a man! lol) It seemed to really have a positive affect on his outlook. In addition to being a goofball and making my parents laugh not stop, it was a very nice visit and felt like it helped put everyone in a good mood.
I have not been sleeping well for the past week so, last night, I gave up and took a single Tylenol PM to help me get to sleep at a decent time. Then, I set my alarm clock for 5 am and took a caffeine pill before going back to sleep. I DO NOT like or encourage people to set their inner clocks with the use of pills - however, with my return to work this upcoming Tuesday, I really needed help to get my body back on track. The sleepless nights until 5 am and then sleeping until noon was starting to take a toll. I know there are other ways to do it but I have enough on my mind right now that I really didn't feel like putting any more effort into it for the time being. :o\ It was a one time thing and, now that life should slowly be returning to normal, it should no longer be a problem. :o)
As I was saying, I woke up at 5 am, took a caffeine pill and then went back to sleep for an hour while I waited for the pill to take affect. I reset my clock for six with the intention of going for a sunrise walk - but the thunder and lightning didn't seem to be in sync with my plans. Instead I woke up, took care of my pets, took care of my mom (who was sleeping peacefully in her recliner) and did a few other things around the house. I also ate some oatmeal to help load up on carbs and to balance out my blood sugar.
The weather was reported to be a delightful 77 degrees outside, but with a humidy level of 90% and increasing chances of rain and thunder storms. By 11:30 am, the sky was overcast but the rain had yet to fall. I woke up my mom to check on her, make sure that she didn't need anything and to let her know that I was going for a walk - then I went for a walk in the park for the first time in over a week. (I've been fitting in walks through hospitals, parking lots and rehab facilities - but this was the first intense walk I've had a chance to take in a while.)
It was hard getting out there, but it felt so good once I started! My playlist was fantastic today! Two minutes in I found myself walking 3.7 mph while rocking out to Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit". I don't know WTH that song means, but the sound is awesome!
Britney Spears "If You Seek Amy" and "You Wanna Piece of Me" followed that up and helped me to maintain my pace as I bee-bopped on my way through the park I mean, I had my arms swinging and my hips swaying while I grooved my way through my workout!
Because of the persistent chance of rain, I changed the track I walked, choosing to just circle a small parking lot that is perhaps 1/3rd of the track that I usually walk simply for the reason that 1) it is the closest part to my home and 2) there is a shelter with bathrooms at one end, in case I needed to quickly get out of the weather. I actually think I preferred this track because it is entirely paved, unlike the sandy, broken up and rocky parts of the longer track that always make me nervous that I will sprain my ankle, so I may take this route more often.
I managed to maintain a speed of 3.2 to 3.7 mph for more than half of the walk, thereby FINALLY beating my 19 minute mile! I'm not sure exactly WHEN I hit the mile mark because my phone app didn't announce it, but I checked the screen at 18 minutes it and I was already at 1.02 miles. Therefore, I'm estimating that I hit the mile mark somewhere between 17.5 and 18 minutes. YAY!
I managed to maintain a speed of 3.2 to 3.7 mph for more than half of the walk, thereby FINALLY beating my 19 minute mile! I'm not sure exactly WHEN I hit the mile mark because my phone app didn't announce it, but I checked the screen at 18 minutes it and I was already at 1.02 miles. Therefore, I'm estimating that I hit the mile mark somewhere between 17.5 and 18 minutes. YAY!
I felt so freaking incredible - not only was I walking faster and pushing harder than ever before, but my breathing was great and I was having so much fun rocking out to my music that it didn't even really feel like work! I tried to be smart and slow my pace down gradually during the last ten minutes as a "cool down" period, but according to my app, I was completely comfortable at a 2.9 or 3 mph pace. All in all, my stats were as follows:
1.54 Miles Walked
Avg Speed of 3.2 mph
Max Speed of 3.7 mph Reached
Min Speed of 2.7 Reached (at 27 minutes in)
2,479 Steps
30 Minutes
Even though I immediately started drinking some Vitamin Water to refresh my electrolytes and had some almonds prepared for a protein snack, I still experienced a little dizziness after the walk. According to Livestrong.com, this could be because I was dehydrated, because I didn't completely cool down well enough to level out my blood pressure or because my morning oatmeal was not enough to level out my blood sugar, so now I know I need to monitor all of the above before my next walk. But still - IT WAS SO INVIGORATING! Can't wait to get out there and do it all again.
Oh, and by the way - I don't know how much of it was humidity and how much of it was sweat, but I was drenched by the end of the 30 minutes. Let me just say - I don't know what romance writers are going on and on about because there is absolutely NOTHING sexy about "naked bodies glistening with perspiration". After today, I will never buy that load of crap again! lol
Oh, and by the way - I don't know how much of it was humidity and how much of it was sweat, but I was drenched by the end of the 30 minutes. Let me just say - I don't know what romance writers are going on and on about because there is absolutely NOTHING sexy about "naked bodies glistening with perspiration". After today, I will never buy that load of crap again! lol
Friday, September 14, 2012
Day 40: LET'S GET PHYSICAL!
So, after having the torture device pictured above for a couple of months, my brother and sister-in-law discovered that it was not being used in their home and, as a sign of support, they donated it to me.
I've been good lately: had some honey garlic chicken for brunch, snacked on some grapes later and then had one of the IHOP's "Simple and Fit" omelets with a small bowl of fruit. That put me at less than 1,000 calories for the day, and I try not to go under 1,200 (since that is supposed to put you into starvation mode). She didn't realize it at first, but her order came with pancakes that she had no intention of eating. So, when the waitress asked which pancakes she wanted and mentioned that they currently had the New York Cheesecake Pancakes - I HAD to have them. If you haven't tasted these things, smothered in Strawberry Syrup...you have not yet tasted heaven.
After helping my mom out to our car and throwing her walker into the back, I told her "Be right back" and closed the door - then proceeded to jog laps around the car while she sat inside cracking up laughing. It's sad to say that I was out of breath after two laps, but so was she from laughing, so s'all gud.
To be honest, even with the pancakes and the syrup, I came in at 858 calories under my suggested goal for the day - and I haven't indulged in anything sweet for a while - so I have no regrets. However, I do feel bad that I haven't been getting in as much exercise as I want to so - when we got home, I remembered that this machine was in the back of my mom's van and I ran out to get it.
I set it up in the living room and tried it out. Now, if you haven't seen this particular contraption before, you put your knees into the two black knee pads at the bottom and then swing your hips back and forth around the perimeter of the machine. DEAR LORD, I was squealing like I was on a flipping roller coaster! First of all, I can't just use my arms to get started - I literally have to swing my ass to get going like a freaking wrecking ball! My mom started laughing at me all over again, insisting that I turn on the light so that she could see better.
Then, this contraption has another workout option. If you look between the knee pads, there is a little, silver colored bar that holds them in place but, if you remove this bar, then your knees go in OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS, leaving you sprawled out over the damn machine like some kinky Gynocologist trip gone all wrong! My mother was literally laughing at me so hard that she was in tears. Furthermore, she thought that it was so funny that she's made me promise to make a "Workout Video" for my beloved Chubby Chasers. So, if everything goes right, expect your first Chuchi Fitness video to be uploaded sometime tomorrow night!
Now, for those of you following up on my parents, my mom is still in a constant state of pain - even more so now that she's trying to put off using her last two pain pills. On the other hand, she is beginning to maneuver a lot better with the walker and seems to need less help getting back and forth in short distances, though she still relies on me for the simple tasks that just take her to long to accomplish (ie: getting a glass of water, feeding our cats, etc).
I am not crazy about my father's rehabilitation facility. Although everyone there is "nice" - that doesn't seem to be enough to get the job done. First of all, my father's a big man. The aide attempts to wrap a normal sized blood pressure cuff around his arm, despite my father and I both telling her that it will just pop off. But, as if we don't know what the hell we are talking about, she puts the small cuff on and attempts to *hold* it closed. Of course, the suckers pops right off, so she disappears to look for another cuff.
Then, she brings in a chair that is supposed to weigh him, but he has no walker or wheelchair in order to get out from his bed and over the scale. She searches high and low (in a REHAB FACILITY) and finally steals a chair from another patient's room. The chair - which is too small for my father - does not even have the foot rests on it. So, my father has to rest his bad leg atop his good ankle and skim his feet on one heel as she wheels him down this long hallway to another scale. Once there, she has to steal ANOTHER patient's walker in order for my father to get out of the wheelchair and onto the scale.
About an hour after my father arrived, I asked the nurse if they had recieved the order from the hospital, and she told me she had four patients to admit and that she hadn't gotten to it yet. With an hour before he was due for his dosage (and he was already in incredible pain from the move), I was told that the hospital did not transfer the order for my father's pain medication. After spending a half hour freaking out, complaining to the hospital and leaving a message on his doctor's personal cell phone, his doctor calls me back to advise that the rehab facility already HAD the order - the nurse just didn't look through the chart properly.
I had just left the facility five minutes ago, so I called back and asked to speak to him, only to be told that I couldn't because no calls were allowed after 8 pm. I explained the situation and told the operator that it was urgent that I speak to my father in regards to his medication, and the operator told me I would be transferred. Instead of my father answering, I get a woman, and again explain that I want to reach room 312, so she says she would transfer me. Instead, I end up with the same unpleasant operator with the thick accent! I explained that I was the same girl who JUST left and that it was urgent that I speak with my father in regards to his medications. The operator tells me again that I can not speak to my father, and that is why I was transferred to the pharmacy. I said "I don't want to speak to the pharmacy, I want to speak to my father! And, regardless what the facility's 'rules' are, I am telling you that this is urgent about his medication!" He says "Let me transfer you to the pharmacy." And the next thing I know, I'm back on hold. I'm a little disappointed that he was unable to hear the string of expletives that came out of my mouth as I hung up on him, just as I'm disappointed that you can not slam a cell phone to hang it up like you can and old fashioned telephone. There's just something so much more satisfying about slamming a reciever after a bad call...
I bring my mom in today and, while I park the car, my mom asks the front desk if there might be a wheelchair I can use just to get her to my father's room. Again, I grit my teeth as I repeat - THIS IS A REHABILITATION FACILITY! They should have wheelchairs in every freaking corner! And, they are not even AT full capacity - at least half the rooms appear to be empty! But the receptionist immediately informs my mother that there are no wheelchairs available. So my mom - balancing on her bad foot with her walker - kindly asks if there is any one else the receptionist might be able to ask for one. (I had already warned my mother that it was a long walk). I come in just in time to hear the receptionist say "That's what I told her." She hangs up the phone and informs my mom that there are no wheelchairs available in the entire facility - which is obviously a load of crap. I tell my mom that the elevator is nearby, and that I will make another attempt to get her a wheelchair when we get to my father's floor.
On the third floor, I ask the nurse's desk if there are any wheelchairs available that I could borrow just long enough to wheel my mom down the hall, and without batting an eye, they say "Oh, you're the one the receptionist called about. No, we don't have any."
By now, having heard about the trouble I experienced yesterday and seeing the kind of "help" we are receiving today - my mom is getting pissed and audibly griping about needing to transfer my father to another location. I feel terrible - my mom is in pain and there is absolutely nothing in my power I can do to help but walk by her side as she shuffles down the hallway. "Can I just borrow one of your office chairs real quickly? I'll bring it right back." I ask, noting the numerous unused chairs behind the desk. One of the ladies laughs at me "We can't do that, it's a safety hazard." Although we normally respect people who have to follow rules and regulations, my mom and I have about had it. "It'll be a safety hazard when I fall on my ass in the middle of the hallway because nobody could help us." My mom mumbled as she hobbled another couple of steps.
"Do you need a wheelchair?" Some lady asks as she comes up behind us. "Yes, please!" My mom nearly shout in unison. "Give me on second." The lady says as she begins rushing ahead of us. I follow along, eager to get the chair and run it back to her. At first, we thought she was one of the nurses - but a moment later, I saw her visitor tag and realized she was just visiting the woman next door to my dad. Just like the day before - there were no foot rests on the wheel chair, so my mom had to literally hold her legs up while I rushed her down the hallway and into my dad's room. I quickly got her settled into the only chair and rushed the chair back to the room next door. Now, I've already mentioned that these are private rooms - so why did this one woman need the two wheelchairs that were in her room. In fact, looking quickly around at the other nearby rooms - each of them had a vacant wheelchair just sitting by the door, waiting to be used. Had the nurses and aides been even REMOTELY helpful, any one of those chairs could have been borrowed log enough to get my mom to my father's room. I literally had that wheelchair for less than five minutes before it was returned.
A little later, although he was given the normal "care kit" - complete with mouthwash, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc - he did not recieve any soap or shampoo. Becuase of his sutures, he's not allowed to take a full out shower yet, but my mom and I wanted to try to clean his hair in the bed so that he would feel a little better. So, I asked the aide for some shampoo. She looked for a good fifteen minutes before reporting that only the morning shift was allowed to have shampoo - the night shift didn't have access to it - so we'd have to wait till the next day. Seriously? Who comes up with this shit?
My father also has this device for his knee - it's a small cooler that connects to this pump and it circulates ice cold water around his knee to help reduce pain and swelling. During my mom's visit, his pain was becoming unbearable - he was constantly wincing and trying to move to a more comfortable position. Talk with him became impossible because he couldn't focus and - ultimately - my father began to tremble. This has happened a few times since Monday - when my father's pain becomes intolerable, he begans to shiver...as if he's going into shock. She had just given him a pain pill but, since those tend to take a little bit of time to kick in, he really needed this ice machine to help dull the pain.
Now, this may all sound like my mom and I are being a big pain in the butt, but first of all - this is someone I love! Of course I want them to be taken care of properly! And secondly, my parents have been in the hospital a lot over the years and any nurse that's learned to work with him has ultimately LOVED me because I end up making their job a lot easier. I've given my mom sponge baths, I've helped my father change his clothes, I've taken care of getting their ice and water or emptying the catheter bags (I don't know what that is called). In other words, if they will allow me to help, I generally make their jobs a helluva lot easier. I don't want to work them to death - just tell me what to do and I'll do it myself. But, this place seems to have an allergy to allowing family and friends to care for their loved ones. For example, I asked them for ice for my father's machine, and I was told that *that* kind of ice could only be retrieved from the second floor. So, I offered to go to the second floor and I was told that only Nurses could get it from the second floor.
A good 45 minutes later, my father has still not recieved ice for the machine, and his face is beginning to turn purple in agony. So, I go down to the second floor and ask for some ice, and the woman at the nurse's desk tells me that someone just came for the ice and is already on their way to my father's room right now. I return to my father's room and - sure enough - there is no one there with ice. My mom and I pour whatever ice we can find into the cooler - the ice chips in his little pitcher, the ice chips in a styrofoam cup he has, the ice from the little thermos that my mom carries around - whatever we can do to help. It's much, but it's cooling and seems to help a little bit. By now, the pain pill is finally starting to kick in and my father's becoming visible drowsy, so we prepare to leave. Fortunately, we'd made friends with a woman across the hall, and she kindly agrees to let me to borrow her mother's wheelchair to take my mom down to the lobby. So, I remind that nurse that my father has not gotten any ice yet, I get mom downstairs, go back to return to the wheelchair to our new friend, and then run into my Dad's room to pick up our belongings and kiss him goodbye. Finally - an hour and ten minutes after I first requested it - my father was receiving ice for his machine.
My mom and I asked him if he was happy there or if he wanted to move to another facility, and he didn't seem to have any interest in moving (too tired and sore to want to bother with it), but I am seriously considering calling and complaining to someone in charge.
On a funnier note, when I spoke my dad on the phone earlier, he told me that my cousin was there with another, unrelated aunt. It didn't make much sense to me as to why those two people would be visiting together, but I shrugged it off. When my mom and I arrived to visit and asked him if we missed them, he admitted - they were never there. They've switched his pain meds since he no longer has an IV and, apparently, the new meds are causing him to hallucinate. Sadly, he had some disturbing dreams last night but interestingly, he has woken up a few times talking but confused. He'll say "Who's there?" And wait for an answer, and then ask "Hello? Who am I talking to?" Only to realize that he's totally alone and talking to himself. I think it bothered him a little bit, but mom and I teased him, talking to the other, non-existent people in the room - until he was able to laugh about it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)