Not enough time in the day

OK, so trying to get back into the exercise swing of things. Every day I have good intentions and everyday, something knocks me out of my groove. It's not an excuse but it is the truth. How do you fit your exercise in while trying to take care of little ones? If I ignore them to do something for me, I feel like an asshole. If I keep getting fatter , I feel like a miserable role model. I tried the exercise during their nap but now they are hit and miss on that. I am already up til 2 am doing bloggy business trying to achieve a dream. I work online in the evenings.My husband works out of town most days ,so its just me. There just isn't enough time in the day. I seriously need to carve a niche of time for my workout. I;ve got to get a plan together!Any ideas?

Beauty is more than skin deep

Well, since my last post lots has happened. I got my head on straight and I joined Weight Watchers. I had a great group, I had a great cheerleader ( my bestie Jen) and I was doing AWESOME! I lost 25 lbs and I was looking great and feeling more confident . You know, less like a frumpy fatty.Then ,once again, life happened. We got downsized , we had to move.I had to start over at a new group, without my cheerleader/workout buddy.But, I could do this. The group here..sucked. No motivation. Maybe it was me? Then another curve ball, my husband got a job that takes him out of state a lot of the time. I hate it. It is what it is..it pays the bills. I suck it up...along with a lot of crappy foods. I'm still staying within my points but stress is making every pound hang on for dear life.So, i stay..and I stay, and then I get frustrated, I am starving, working out really hard and am getting NO RESULTS! You know how that feels? It feels like I was wasting my time. I know it wasn't logical. It was me being stressed and giving up. Life got in the way of my weight loss plan. Then it starts to snow ball.I gain a pound, I stop exercising, I get more lax on my points..wham! bam! thank you ma'am..a few months later...I'm 10 lbs heavier and very frustrated with myself. So, here I am frustrated and moving in the wrong direction from my goal. I'm making a decision...AGAIN..to get healthy. I really can't stand being chunky. I must be like some sort of self loathing fat person...is that even a thing? It's always been a part of my mind. Even when I was skinny and puking 10 times a day, I never felt thin enough. I know this about myself. But I also know the scale doesn't lie and that I am about 90 lbs heavier than I was when I thought I needed to lose another 10 lbs.I've changed a lot.Now, its about being a good role model for my girls not vanity. Well, not JUST vanity. I am human. Nobody wants to look unattractive, right? Here I am at the starting line again. I am going to do it by sticking to my points and exercising. I am going to do it the healthy way. The other way is not an option. I want my girls to see my exercising and eating healthy. They are perfect as they are and I don't want to be a bad example.I can't be the Mom asking "Do I look fat in this?" What kind of example am I setting for my girls? That their measure in in their waist size? No, I want them to feel healthy and be proud of who they are and know that their worth comes from within, not from their appearance.

That which doesn't kill us, makes us stronger!

It's been almost 2 weeks, and I am definitley feeling better..more in control, more proactive.I have been very upbeat and positive but the scale still says "4" lbs, which I am not complaining about. My initial calculation was 2 lbs. per week, so in theory I am right on task but I feel slightly deterred for the fact that it has been "4" lbs since the end of the first week. Granted it has been an unusual week, I had a small fender bender on Wednesday that threw me for a loop. I ended up coming home late and we ended up getting food out to eat..Chinese no less. SO, needless to say that wasn't exactly healthy. BUt I did realize that when I am stressed, i head for carbs to comfort myself. Note to self! Then today , I woke up to a horrible back spasm, which left me completely incapacitated and lying on the floor unable to move. I am sure that this is the reinjury of an injury I got about 3 weeks ago. I am positive that I keep pulling my back because I am out of shape. That is a major factor in beginning this back. I can't keep doing this to me back.Its horrible to feel incapacitated to such a point that you are helpless. So, now I can't turbo jam as planned but I will supplement with walking, now that I can walk upright again:) Staying positive, I know I can do this:) I believe in myself and I believe in God, and between the two us, I can do anything that I set my mind to:)

Dedication to the journey

This new journey has me being honest with myself, as demonstrated by my confessions in the last post, as well as with everyone else. I am a pretty honest person, but I NEVER share details about my weight ( though I am sure it is pretty obvious to allthat have eyes that I am in fact overweight). In retrospect, I am not really sure who I was lying to more so others or myself. I think, I thought, if I never uttered the words or admitted just how fat I had gotten over these past years..it wasn't real. But believe me when I had to buy a size "20" shorts this summer, that was a pretty hard slap in my face. I couldn't deny it, the number was there. There's no way you can be a size 20 and skinny unless you are 13 foot tall.There you have it...reality.She is a cold hard mistress. But it, along with the complete turn upside down of my life because of a relocation half way across the country, has prompted this journey and I am excited to be on it for as long as it takes, even if it takes forever. It was like all the stress of my husband losing his job, and the uncertainty of it all caused me to gain 15 pounds over this summer.Rather than dwelling on it and becoming a victim of my circumstances, I am looking at it as a chance to start over, to push the reset button. I am embracing this new part of my life. I am free of the chains of expectation, I can be and do whatever I want to be or do and so I am. I told my husband the other day...yes, I said it outloud (or rather via text message:) that I refuse to be 2nd or 3rd priority in my own life. My children are my life and I love them above all else, but if I am not being the best ME that I can be, what kind of an example am I setting for them? So, things are changing. In fact, I think my husband likes it. He likes having me a little more spice in my attitude and caring a little more about what I look like, not to mention I am the catalyst that moves this family. Life is good; no life is great. I am blessed by an abundance of love and support in my life, I just wasn't taking advantage of what I have.So, I am logging my calories religiously into my ipod and I even scheduled time on my calendar, daily, to workout. I finally realized no one can take care of me or do this for me, I have to work hard and do this for myself.It is empowering. I feel like a new person already. It's only been a little over a week but I've lost 4 pounds and I feel better, more proactive. I finally feel like I'm back in charge of myself and my body; rather than my body dictating my every thought and action.

The skinny on being Fat; The Beginning

This is for me! I have finally decided to take charge of my life and get off this roller coaster of watching my weight rule me.I have decided that the way for me to do that is to be honest with myself and everyone else. So, to start, I am not one of those people who had the misfortune of being born large, no, I did this all on my own. I started out an average sized baby, small even, coming into this world at a whopping 4 lbs. I was a slender little girl. My Mother, God bless her, was thin by nature and my Dad , his body was his temple. He has always worked out. Even now, at the age of 61, he rides his bike and walks or jogs daily. Yes, daily!!! As a child, he would take us with him. We went willingly, even excitedly. Who didn't think it wasn't awesome to spend time playing around with their Dad, doing something he loved. Well, my Dad loved to work out, to run, to play soccer, do karate, and ride the bike. Somewhere, between our leisurely bike rides and learning to count in Japanese while he taught us the correct way to throw a punch, he made us run. It started out as fun filled races between my brother and myself but evolved into "Run, faster, faster!" And fast was never fast enough, and it made me absolutely loathe running. The more he pushed , the more I hated it.Now, I am not blaming him for me being fat, I am simply explaining why I hate to run:) So, I hit puberty and I put on some weight, as all girls do. I wasn't obese but you know how when you're a teenager, everything is larger than life? Well,that's how I felt about the weight I gained, it didn't go straight to my breasts and hips like one would hope..no it decided to linger in the middle first. Just long enough, to make me self conscious of my body.And in truth, that was the beginning of the end. In those years that followed, the combination of being larger than a size 2 and having braces, having a house full of little brothers and sisters who were cut throat insulters (you know how it is? You have 6 kids in 1 house and when you get mad at each other, you find that one vulnerability and you pick at it, until you've broken the opponent.)Well, my vulnerability was my weight.In my house, at the age of 13, on any given day, I was sure to be called brace face or "Fat Cow" by one of my siblings. Mind you, they were all younger but it still hurt like hell and it made me even more self conscious about my weight because it planted the seed, and made me wonder, is that what people see? Am I really that fat? Add to the mix, a first boyfriend who was older and super hot (to me) and had dated just about everybody at his high school and all the years of my Dad telling me I was beautiful and smart, seemed not to matter.Because, even though he was telling me I was beautiful and smart, he was also 'suggesting' that I go for a run or workout. None of this was intentional, I was not mind fucked by my boyfriend or purposely chastised by my Father, but the circumstances were enough of a catalyst to perpetrate a pretty awful case of body dismorphic disorder, which evolved into a pretty strong case of anorexic bulimia. Wow, that was a mouthful! Anyways, nobodys fault but my own. After high school, see since I was just "chunky" and not "obese" I always felt like I snuck into the party and was going to be found out and either kicked out or humiliated and then kicked out, neither option did I relish. I was semi popular and had a large group of friends, and that boyfriend I referred to was pretty damn hot and sweet to boot.It was all my problem. I was the only one who was mind fucking me, and doing a bang up job, if I do say so myself.This went on for all four years of high school. During this time, I got straight A's, did all the things a teenager is suppose to do and had a lot of fun doing it, but the one thing I couldn't get hold of was my weight. It never got out of control, just enough to be annoying. Let's use this as an example: if every other girl I knew was a size 6, I was an 8. So, even though I wasn't huge..it was huge to me. I move on to college, and was so afraid of gaining the "Freshman 15" that I actually began ( this is so ridiculous that I hate to even say it aloud or put it to paper but honesty, and starting over and all that shit..I'm doing it) eating ,for instance, 1/2 a plain bagel, a small banana, and a large cup of water. I would then leave the dining hall, do not pass go and run directly for the nearest bathroom...to vomit. I would follow that by then going to my room, changing my clothes, and heading to workout for an hour or 3 at the co Rec. Yeah, I was pretty crazy. And if you think that's crazy, well , you've not even began the ride on this crazy train. I got busted the first time, by my best friend ( possibly the smallest girl on campus..talk about insult to injury) for barfing, so instead of stopping the vomiting..I just decided to run to another building, where I'd be less likely to get busted. Yes, I infiltrated other peoples dorms...just to barf! WTF ,you ask? Yes, I agree..WTF!!! During this time, there was another boyfriend..back at home and I just felt out of control. So, I controlled what I ate and how my body looked. I know when people hear "bulimia" they automatically thing of a crazy in the corner scarfing a sleeve of oreos and then puking but I was not like that..there was no binging....only purging. So, obviously, I started losing weight.Long story short, I got busted barfing again, I went home..my Mom knew (she kept me home a semester), my Dad didn't..he sees me and says "oh sweetie, you're looking good!" Thanks Daddy. Mom's trying to fix poor broken me, Dad's telling me its working (without knowing what he's saying) and I came home but I never stopped..not for 7 years. Oh yeah, I was a pro. A very skinny pro.I remember barfing up to 10 times a day, I was a silent barfer, I had no gag reflex, I learned what tasted gross coming up or would choke me and stayed away from those foods, and I learned not to brush my teeth immediately after or the toothpaste would react with my stomach acids and eat at my enamel (rookie mistake) so, I always had mouthwash. Oh yeah, I was a professional..a sneaky, lying, empty stomach, bony professional. The more people told me I looked sick because I was getting too skinny, the more I was like "yes" ( and very proud of myself for my accomplishment and discipline) in my own twisted mind, this was positive reinforcement. But I had to lie, and that caused guilt, which caused me to puke even more..it was truly awful. It consumed me. Then I met my now husband, and it hit me( after we got engaged) if he finds out , he's going to think I am stark raving crazy and leave me. I didn't think my fragile mind or body could take that. So, I made myself stop...cold turkey. Do you know what happens when you do that? Well, let me tell you...your body pretty much says ,"Fuck you Bitch, you're not starving me again!" and it boycotts you.My metabolism went on hiatus and has never returned. So, now I have to regain my body's trust and we got to be partners again.I'm not the only one in charge any more, I lost my privileges. Let's put it this way, I am ,honestly ( oh how I hate admitting this,but the only way I can overcome this is to face my fears. I feel like I should be in a meeting, saying ,"Hi my name is Debi, and I am a self induced fat ass. To which you all respond, "We love you Debi!",right???) , 100 lbs heavier than I was when I met my husband (poor guy he was duped).For 11 years, I have steadily been gaining weight. What I thought was "fat" when I was a teenager, is what I want to be now. My metabolism is so jacked up that it doesn't want to lose a pound. It is going to be hard, but I have got to do this..this time. The time is now. I have 2 little girls and I want to be a good role model. I don't want them to associate their worth with the size of their jeans and I don't want to be the embarrassing "Fat Mom". You know what I'm talking about, the one all the kids think is great but she's "fat" and the minute they get mad at your kid they are going to talk about his/her "Fat" Mom!! So, I've decided to start this journey,that may never end but you know, anything I work for and lose ( in terms of weight)is much better than doing nothing and getting bigger, more unhealthy and more deeply disgusted with what I have let myself devolve into. I am better than that and I refuse to let my value in life be measured by my size. I wish I were one of those lovely women who are ,in fact, Big and Beautiful but I am not. I am little and vain,and though I know I am worth more than my weight...I can not escape that it does play a part in how others judge me and even more so, how I condemn myself. So, here is my new mantra : God is Fair, nobody's perfect. Love what ya got, change what you can, and be happy with the journey. That's where my journey begins..today. I started working out last week and logging my food like a fanatic ( channeling my obsessive craziness)and as of today, I am down 4 lbs..only 11 more to go until I hit my first "goal". Baby steps my friends, baby steps!You gotta walk before you can run...and I got a lot of baby steps to take before I can come full circle and learn to love running again. My goal is a 5K, when I am healthy and fit enough to run like I used to, with the freedom and spirit of a child.