Log, Jog, and Blog. v3

I was supposed to LOG, but my head's been in a fog.

I was supposed to JOG, but I've been eating like a hog.

Now that it's time to BLOG, I don't really have an excuse!

If you can't tell (from my tone), this past week of healthy-living hasn't been so stellar.  For one, I've had family in town, and Grammy's cupcake recipe is to die for!  I realize willpower is a part of it all, but my friend Will's been on vacation, too.

Loads more STROLLER sessions are in order!

BOO!  I'm jumping back on the train though...

Week Three:

Weight - 148

As a side note, there'll be no clicking back today to see where I started.  This folks, is where I started! 

What a waste of precious blog space...

But I'm encouraged to start anew, and I've found a helpful site here.  So, I'll be seeing you again next week with positive changes to report.  Read more from this series.

Does anyone want to join me virtually on My Fitness Pal?  If so, contact me here.  I'd love to have you!



Log, Jog, and Blog. v2



As I promised, here's my healthy-living, weight-loss update:

So, after a week and some of moderate dieting and increased exercise, I've lost two pounds.  I haven't been stringent, either.

Week Two:

Weight - 146 lbs.

(See where I started here.)

In fact, what I've done thus far is simple, and it doesn't center 'round restriction or deprivation.  Basically, I've been particular about eating regularly, at specific times.  I've also avoided eating late at night.

More often than not, I miss meals, graze, or make poor food-choices because I'm starving.  I knew going into this LOG, JOG, and BLOG series, these bad habits would have to change.  So, that's what I'm focusing on now... correcting long-standing meal mistakes.

Does that make sense?

I've also made other modifications.  Slight ones, at that. 

For the most part, I already eat unprocessed, natural foods.  And I love fruits and vegetables, but I don't care too much for water. 

So, I'm having to make liquid changes.  For instance:

• More water (64 - 80 ounces per day),
• Less red wine (no more nightly glasses), and
• Decreased diet cokes (six is just too many).  

With this all being said, I haven't been perfect these last few days.  I don't intend to, either.  I want to still live, laugh, and be human.  I just want to adopt a more healthy lifestyle, and moderation is key.  I have exercise thoughts to share, but I'll wait 'til next time.

 

Log, Jog, and Blog. v1

No more mommy excuses.  The day has finally arrived, and I'm sayin' goodbye to the last ten pounds.  Join me if you like...

It's my plan to do the following:

1. LOG my food consumption on a daily base,
2. JOG (and walk) in intervals at a steady pace, and
3. BLOG all about it on my weight-loss race.

I intend to make positive lifestyle changes, and I'm not going to be unrealistic, or obsessive (like ghosts of diets past).

And each week, I'll provide an update tracking my progress. 

Phew!  Here goes nothing...

Week One:

Weight - 148 lbs.
BMI - 23.2%  (click here to calculate yours)

I'm doing this because, I want to feel strong and proud and tired at night.  I want to own it on the beach, and more important, I want to live to see my great-grandchildren play.  So, I gotta be proactive!

Here's to getting the pre-baby body back in 12 weeks...

 

 

The Personification of Control.

I'm going to cut to the emotional chase. I've been in something of a funk recently, and I need to forge my way out...

Plain and simple, I need to get in shape!

I feel overwhelmed though. 

I realize this post has the makings of an "are you or someone you know suffering from depression" commercial, but somewhere along the line, I've stepped out of my body, and I can't seem to get back in.  It's embarrassing to admit, too.

I realize I'm not the first mother or wife or dreamer to struggle.  I know I need to lose ten pounds, but it's more than just that.  It's a serious bully named control I battle most with, because...

When it's quiet, I don't feel adequate.

I never have, either.

So, what I'm saying, is that the weight isn't the real issue at hand.  It's control and his manipulative sidekick, self-esteem.

In my head, because I'm not perfect, or 135 pounds, I don't deserve love.  And I ask, where did this warped mindset come from? 

Often in my life, I've been criticized for not being open, for being afraid of vulnerability.  Out of circumstance, I argue I was conditioned to be strong, to save face, to control my feelings.

If you're a new follower, you must know, my mother left when I was a young teenager.  At the time, my sister was six, and my brother, ten months.  Her breakdown, and breakaway, broke our hearts, and I've always been afraid.  So, I turned to control.

Afraid of hurt, that is.  Feeling it, and more important, causing it.

Also, afraid of just plain ol' not being good enough.

Point of all this rambling though, I'm struggling to accept an ally named unconditional. 

Love, that is.

I'm wary of believing in him, unconditional, and I'm suspect to think he'll leave.  So, I struggle.  I control, too.

But lately, I can't seem to control anything?!  And I'm confused?

My weight, no less.  Blah... blah... blah...

It's just high time I get to the source of my emotional setbacks.  Now that I've personified control, I need to banish bad thoughts and dispel negative energy.  Basically, I need to learn to love myself, and I think it will all be better after a long walk with baby.



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Did Cleopatra Self-Loathe?

Why do we, as women, beat ourselves up and self-loathe?  It's ridiculous!

Just to let you all know, I am NOT above being insecure.

I have loads of insecurities, and frankly, I'm tired of thinking about them.  I want to let them go, once and finally for all! 

A day in the life of...

• I wake up, and step on a scale. 
• I see a number I can't seem to control, and I hate myself! 
• I then add three pounds to the shameful digit, because I know my scale is off, and I feel strangely embarrassed.
• From that point, I make quiet, determined vows to partake in only wholesome, corrective food choices, and I pledge, ever-so-secretly, to do squats all day long!

(In my dysmorphic mind, I seem to forget that my child's thriving, that my partner's loving, or that I'm actually happy, and the glass of wine that now contributes to my morning bulge, tasted so nice the night before!)

Tell me please, why do I fret over a blasted eight pounds? 

I have loads of gorgeous girlfriends that I talk with, and they're equally discouraged by pretend imperfections that don't matter, that aren't even apparent!

My question, did Cleopatra self-loathe, or is obsessing over one's appearance an altogether new, female phenomenon?  Have women through all ages felt dissatisfied with themselves?

My self-hatred in particular, became obvious to me a few weeks ago, while visiting my partner's family in Maryland. 

I saw a photo of myself taken when I was twenty-four.  It was a time in which I vividly remember disliking every last inch of my physical self!  I hated my curly hair.  I thought my skin was bad.  I felt fat!  The list goes on...

Really though, I was beautiful!  That might sound slightly egotistical, but I looked at the picture, and I didn't recognize myself?! 

I wish I would have enjoyed it!  I wish, looking back, I wouldn't have been so concerned with changing myself!

I really want to start LOVING, to stop HATING, and I hope to encourage other women to do the same.