Clearly Dimentia is Setting In

Within the past couple of months I've taken several steps toward creating a healthier me.  While I haven't really consciously tried to make this into fitness blog (which would be about like Charlie Sheen starting a sanity blog), it has sort of turned into a fitness blog on it's own just because I lack the imagination required to write about anything other than my daily life, and right now my daily life is very fitness-centric.

I'm done fighting it.  I guess this is just me for right now.

So I've been using the BodyBugg for a bit over a week now and I LOVE it.  It beats the heck out of logging individual exercises in FatSecret.  BodyBugg's food database sucks so I'm just using The Bugg to calculate exercise calories, which I key into FatSecret in a lump sum adjustment to see my net deficit.  

If BodyBugg is to be believed, and I don't know that it has any motivation to lie to me, FatSecret has been drastically over-estimating my metabolism.  This was initially a bit disheartening, but knowledge is power and all that rot.

I broke up with The Y and joined Urban Active Fitness.  The Big Girl Gym suits me SO much better than the family atmosphere of the Y.  I have no patience for little kids, which is why I no longer have one, and I have enough trouble dealing with my own teenager, I don't want to deal with everyone elses.  Granted I've only been there twice, but I don't dread going and that's a big plus.

In fact, and trust me what I'm about to say is so unbelievable to me that I haven't ruled out early onset dimentia, but I actually WANT to go work out.  If I could do it right this very second I would.  If I could go after work today, I would.  If I could go any time before tomorrow evening, when I actually CAN go, I would.  This whole business of being a parent and a productive member of society is getting in the way of what, admittedly, might become an unhealthy obsession if left unchecked.  I guess that's good, right?

I first visited my new gym on Sunday.  I did the upper body portion of one of the many sets of circuit training machines, followed by 45 minutes on the elliptical.  I honestly wanted to go longer on the ET.  I could have happily gone a full hour or more, reading and sweating facing out over the parking lot.  But The Man and The Girl were wandering the adjacent shopping area while I worked out and I didn't want to leave them waiting an inconsiderate amount of time.  So I stopped, showered, and met them at Barnes & Noble where I was greeeted with "That was fast".  Sigh.

Monday I couldn't go, but I met with two separate personal trainers yesterday after work.  The first, who I'll call Chris (because that's his name) had me fill out some paperwork, asked me about a million questions, then handed me over to the most adorable little (but fit) gay man I've ever met.  My fitness level was assessed (I'm pretty sure they had to create a new category for me on their assessment paperwork), I was put through a workout that included lunges, lifting and throwing a 20 lb bag of sand, squats while lifting free weights and a sad attempt at crunches while perched atop a spongy flat-bottomed ball type dealio.  During the beginning of the workout I wanted the trainer to be my new BFF.  I imagined we could do lunch, go shoe shopping, maybe take in a musical.  By the end I just wanted to throw him out a window but lacked the strength.

After my assessment and workout I was sat back down with Chris, who explained to me why I need to do this type of workout rather than the machines and cardio to which I've become accustomed.  The first problem is that I've become accustomed to them, and apparently my body is smart enough to get used to stuff and stop being impressed with my efforts, therefore not rewarding me with the desired results. 

Second, and I suppose this makes sense, if I concentrate primarily on cardio, I burn lots of calories for that 45 minutes or so and then my metabolism quickly goes back to normal.  If I concentrate on building muscle, I burn calories while I'm doing it (BodyBugg said I burned FAR more calories per minute doing lunges and throwing that stupid sandbag than I do on the ET) but also there's the whole muscle is metabolically more active thing to deal with.

Chris says I can realistically expect to gain a pound of lean muscle per month, which will burn an additional 50 calories per day when at rest.  This doesn't sound like much but if I do this for 10 months, that means I'll be burning 500 extra calories per day when at rest...and that translates to a pound of fat loss per week.

Am I ready to give up my ET?  No.  And that came as a HUGE shock to me.  I actually ENJOY my time on the elliptical.  I LIKE to sweat and zone out and read. 

What the hell is happening to me??  I smell toast.

Chris assures me that I'll still be able to cardio train, but (here we go), if I sign up for one of their training packages they will customize my workout with exactly the right amount of strength training combined with the right amount of cardio to attain the results I want.

I was actually relieved that he didn't tell me I couldn't use the ET any more.  I'm not kidding.  Stop laughing I'm serious!

Well the bottom line is that the switch from the Y to Urban Active, just membership-wise, cut my bill by 60%.  I bought the absolute least expensive bare minimum training package they offer, which is one session per week, and now I'm paying QUADRUPLE what I was paying at the Y.

QUAD-EFFING-DRUPLE.   This shit better work.

I'm not committed for more than two months.  I guess at that point I'll decide if it's worth it.

But here's the thing.  And I know this is going to sound like the sales pitch brainwashing me but this is math that I did on my own.  Even if I stick with it for a full year, if there were a surgery that could get me into shape I would GLADLY plunk down what this will cost me for a full year to attain that goal.  It's a miniscule fraction of what one would pay for bariatric surgery or even a tummy tuck (not that I've considered that, just saying).  So, other than the fact that I may not be able to pay for heat or food, why am I freaking the crap out about spending this money on myself? 

Sigh.

So Saturday morning I have an 8:30 am appointment with a woman who will teach me how to become the new, strong, confident me. 

All I know is that I'm more excited about getting healthy than I've been in a long time and I'm trying really hard to imagine myself staying this excited rather than repeatedly telling myself that I'll muck this up like I always do so why get my hopes up? 

This is something I've never tried before, maybe that's why I have renewed hope. 

I remember when I was probably three or four years old my dad dug a ditch across our back yard to run a gas line to the grill.   I clearly remember standing on one side of this gap, which couldn't have been more than 2 feet wide, crying because I couldn't get back to the house.  Neighborhood kids jumped over it without hesitation.  Adults stepped over.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it no matter how much encouragement was thrown my way.

Fast forward about 20 years and I was going fishing with The Ex.  There was a pond near our house that had a creek running along side of it, and the way to get to the best fishihng spot was to walk between the creek and pond, along a strip of solid yet somewhat uneven ground that was probably 3 feet wide.  I couldn't do it.  He said I could, I just lacked the confidence.  I said "Ok, I'll meet you in the car".

Last summer The Man, The Girl and I drove to Mohican state park with some of The Inlaws.  This was presented to me as "Let's go to Mohican".  Half way there I found out that a more accurate presentation would have been "Let's go HIKING at Mohican", which would have caused me to laugh and stay home.
The couple we went with consisted of a pregnant woman and a man carrying a toddler in a carrier on his back, so even though they are both young and fit I knew it couldn't been too dangerous, steep or physically challening.  What I didn't count on was a trail that runs along a river, trees and rocks on one side, water on the other, uneven path between.  I had a full blown panic attack, unable to go forward or back, sobbing and humiliated as children and even people much older than me went around me.  The Man walked me back to the car and we waited in strained silence, punctuated by my repeated apologies, for the rest of the group to return, at which point I had to endure a couple hour drive back home in my humiliation.

All of this fear comes from the certainty that I will fall if I don't have something to hold on to, becasue my balance is horrible.  I felt like such an idiot yesterday trying to do lunges.  "Hands on hips, head up, focus on the exit sign".  He may as well have asked me to levatate.  I kept having to stop and put my hands out to keep from falling over on my side like a fainting goat.  They assure me that my balance issues are caused by a lack of core strength, and they're going to help me fix this.

This boggles my mind.....the idea that my uncoordination, something that I've always seen as being as much a part of me as my love of animals and my hatred of eggplant can somehow be changed my, of all things, physical exericise.  Apparently exercise isn't just for trying to make my fants fit.  Who knew?

Or maybe I'm just a big ol'chicken and all the crunches in the world won't change it.  But I'll look better during my sniveling, humiliating panic attack, and that's something, isn't it?

Today's lunch:  Kashi Pesto Pasta Primavera.   I'm not a big Kashi fan.  It's all generally too 'twigs and bark' for me, but this is actually pretty good.  Too bad I can never bring it to work again.  WAY too much garlic smell. 

Bugging Me

I had such productive plans for this morning.  The UPS guy brought my BodyBugg yesterday, so last night I broke out the user's manual hoping to get it all set up and, of course, it had to charge for 3 hours before I could do anything.  The manual said to hook it up to my computer using the provided USB cable, so I naively did exactly that, and I snuggled into bed with a good book. 

Oh...the book.  Thursday night I finished What The Night Knows by Dean Koontz, which The Man bought me in hard cover.  I really love anything Dean Koontz writes, and this book was no exception, but ever since I got the Tablet/E-Reader dealio I've been just wishing I could get done with it so I could get my first eBook.

So last night I got Someone Will be With You Shortly by Lisa Kogan from Amazon for my Cruz.  I've been a subscriber to O Magazine for years and Lisa's column has always been my favorite part of the every issue.  I've been looking SO SO forward to reading her book since it came out nearly a year ago, but neither Barnes & Noble nor Borders carries it in-store.  Bastards.

Anyway, my plan for this morning was to get up at the crack of 8, register my Bugg, pair it to my phone, strap it to my flabby upper arm, throw the Cruz in the gym bag and head for the Y.

But when I tried to mess with the Bugg, the battery was still dead! Boo, hiss.

It seems that the crucial piece of missing information in the extremely short and not-so-informative User's Guide is that simply plugging it in is not sufficient to begin charging.  Yesterday when I plugged it in nothing happened.  No flashing, no lights, no "Greetings Fatass. Thank you for plugging me in, I will charge my battery now".  Nothing.  But now that it's registered and the software is on my computer it is flashing red, indicating that the battery is critically low. Crap.  It's supposed to take three hours to charge and will flash green when it's done.  After that I'll still need to pair it with my phone before I can use it.  Since I have to have both dogs at the vets in 3 hours there is no chance of wearing it to the gym today.

Of course I could still GO to the gym...but yesterday I took the morning off work and did a fairly thorough cleaning of my kitchen and downstairs bath (I'm a wild woman, huh?).  To be clear, I LOATHE cleaning, but it does feel really, really good to walk through those two nicely clean rooms.  So I think I'll take advantage of what history tells us will be a short-lived burst of motivation and clean the living room and this disgusting office rather than going to the gym today.  Oh it would be SO nice if I could accurately calculate the calories I burn while I clean....if only there was a gadget that would do that....sigh.

Ooh ooh...it's flashing yellow now instead of red.  This is progress.

Since my dirty breakfast plate is still sitting here (I told you my office is disgusting) I can call this a Blog Over Breakfast and tell you that I had a sandwich consisting of two deliciously fried eggs, a piece of mild cheddar cheese, exactly one serving of olive oil mayonnaise on two pieces of whole wheat toast, with ten grapes.  Clearly I was planning to burn off some serious calories at the gym.

The Chamber of Unreasonable Guilt

Yesterday I ordered my Bodybugg SP.  This is the only one of the three items I was hoping to purchase (as I wrote about here) that I'll actually be buying.  The reduction in my shopping list from three items to one was brought about by recent financial misfortune as chronicled here.  Are we caught up now?  Good. 

My logic is that if I am able to calculate, with numbers-geek accuracy, the calories I burn by vaccuming and mopping I will dislike these chores slightly less, cancelling out the need for the robotic vacuum cleaner and floor mopper.  And, of course, we know my logic is always spot-on, right?  RIGHT?  I thought so!

But here's the thing...the agonizing I went through before I allowed myself to purchase this item was fairly impressive, even for me.  I'm starting to realize that....well at the risk of seeming like a pompous windbag I'm going to quote my favorite author, in my favorite book, and say that "The chamber of unreasonable guilt is part of my mental architecture, and I doubt that I will ever be able to renovate that particular room in this strange castle that is me"  - Dean Koontz, Odd Thomas.

I love that quote, I adore the book and I desperately await the next book in the series so that I can have more wonderful quotes like that one, and "Nothing is worse than being alone on the evening of the day when one's cow has exploded."  God please let there be another one soon!!!

Wow did I get off track.  Shocking, I know.

ANYway, why do I subject myself to all this guilt?  I work hard, I've had fairly impressive success in my career considering that I don't have a degree.  I make decent money, though I won't be hiring servants any time soon.  So I spent $209 on something I've been wanting FOR YEARS.  Something that will, theoretically, make me a healthier person.  Something that I have researched extensively and that holds the ringing endorsement of experts in exercise and diet.  So why do I feel the need to justify this over and over and over again, to myself, to you?

Sunday I did nearly nothing.  I got up, allowed The Man to buy me brekfast (because I'm a giver that way), we went grocery shopping and I did nothing but read, watch TV and nap from about 12:30 until 6:30 when it was time to go bowling.  If not for the fact that I felt like absolute crap I would have not been able to bear the enjoyment of it.  I would have had to get up and do something productive.  And even now, two days later, I still feel guilty because there is dust on my furniture, my hampers overfloweth and my taxes remain unfiled. 

I made an appointment today to get cortisone shots in my elbows.  I learned the last time I did this that I DO NOT want to go back to work after.  It's fairly painful in the hours that follow the shots, though totally worth it for the longish-term relief.   So I made the appointment for a Friday morning, because a Thursday evening wasn't available, and I put in for a vacation day.  And do you know what?  I'm actually LOOKING FORWARD to the time after, though I know I will be in pain, because I will be able to justify in my sick mind a few hous reading or sleeping during the day without feeling like I should be doing something else.


Let's be clear, I'm not a saint or a martyr.  I'm not saying, by any stretch, that I DON'T do nice things for myself....I do.  I just then feel guilty as hell about it. 

Seriously...what the FUCK?  When did it become a sin to be nice to ourselves?  Or is it just me?

I don't think it's just me.  I know too many people who suffer the same self-inflicted angst.  Why do we do this to ourselves?  Why are we SO FREAKING HARD on ourselves?  Why can't we be as good to ourselves as we are to others without feeling selfish?  Or, maybe a better question is...is being selfish necessarily bad? 

If I'm good to me, then I can be good to you?  No?  YES!!!

So....my BodyBugg will be here this Friday.  Saturday I will begin counting calories with the enthusiasm whith which I count hours and wages at work.  And then...you know what?  Some time this weekend, without being at death's door or anything, I will spend two hours reading.  I make this commitment to you, but do me a favor, make a commitment to me to do something nice for yourself too.  Ok? 

What will you do for you? 

Today's lunch:  Amy's Pesto Tortellini bowl.  Yeah, I know I'm repetitive.  But it's GOOD.

Cookies are Definitely Involved

Hello my friends.  I'm sorry I've been gone for so long.  Things have been especially hectic at work and my elbows have been especially sensitive which makes me not so writey.

It's tax time which means I have a new obsession...what to do with my refund.  This year I stand to get a decent chunk of change since it's my year to claim The Boy (The Ex gets him every 2nd year).  Sure, the smart thing to do would be to send 100% of my refund to my friends at US Bank, but honestly they pretty much own me now and the amount of this refund wouldn't buy back my little finger. 

So I'm thinking a compromise is in order, maybe 60% to the bank and 40% to me, to buy some gadgets that I've been admiring. 

First, ther's this little gem:



It's called a Bodybugg and I've been lusting after it for a couple of years now.  As much as I obsess about my caloric intake from food/output from exercise you'd think I'd be thin but sadly this is not the case.  I'm SUCH a numbers geek, seriously I've been known to keep elaborate spreadsheets and charts on net calories compared to the weight loss result.   This doodad promises to take the guesswork out of it.  It's supposed to work with my phone to tell me one of the following two things

I hope that cookie was good because you now have to spend three hours on the dreadmill to work it off!
or
Good girl, nice workout, now you may have a cookie. 

I'm paraphrasing, of course, but cookies are definitely involved.

The next gadget I've been obsessively researching considering is this:



It's the Neato XV-11, AKA "The Roomba Killer".  Of course I don't actually want to kill my Roomba, as I stated here it's one of my favorite things, but it could be so much better, and the Neato seems to have a lot of the features that Roomba lacks.  So I'd like to get one of these for downstairs (doghair central) and put Roomba upstairs where the dogs don't go and less debris is tracked.  Think of upstairs is sort of like Boca Raton for Roombas.

And, the third thing I really want to get is:



It's a Scooba 230.  It mops!  I had a Scooba 330 a few years ago and it did a decent job, but it was big, bulky, heavy, hard to clean and not very durable.  The 230 appears to have solved the first four issues, the durability issue will remain to be seen.

Sadly this new version isn't available yet....the website says "Soon"...rumor is it will come out in the spring. 

These three items combined will be roughly 1/3 of my tax refund.  They are individually extravagent and combined they're nearly obsecene but they will make my house cleaner and my body leaner and doesn't that mean something?

The first person who points out that I would be leaner if I incorporated mopping and vacuuming into my daily routine to burn calories gets their very own voodoo doll modeled after them.

Besides....how would I know how many calories I burned?  I rest my case.

Today's lunch:  Amy's Pesto Tortelini.  Yummy yumm yum.