Bet you didn't think you'd find me here again quite so soon....

...and yet, here I am.

There are challenges ahead, I know. Things are tough...Taco and I are both super busy right now, me with work and writing, he with a music workshop and with gigs. And good god, we are broke broke broke, oh, so broke. And busy, did I mention busy? And so the house is a mess, and the bills need paying, and I keep making these to-do lists on scraps of paper, folding them a frillion times and cramming them in my pockets and then, you know, forgetting about them, and the things on them. Oh, Sisyphus, you had nothing on me. Nothing, I say! No one is better than me at rolling the same stupid rock up the same stupid hill a zillion stupid times.

No one.

Taco very kindly tonight pointed out that things are tough because we've let them get that way, but now that we're aware of just how tough things are, now we'll look at things head on, and deal with them, and not look away and pretend there's nothing wrong. We stood in the garden in the fog and had this chat and though the sky was getting darker and the fog thicker, all I could see was the light going on. Because this is what I've done: I've looked to the side, pretended that what's in front of me isn't as bad as it actually is. That if I just ignore it long enough, it'll go away.

What do you know, turns out I was wrong. It doesn't go away...whether it's a power bill or twenty or thirty pounds (not to put too fine a point on it, you see). Whether it's the result of a new water heater and just not looking at the bill for two months, or the result of chocolate and bread and oh-i'll-exercise-tomorrow/next week/next month. It doesn't go away. In fact, it gets worse. And then you get hit with a number you'd rather not see, whether on the bill's bottom line or the scale's.

The trick, though, is to catch it. To catch it, to look it in the eye, to do something--whatever it takes--to stop it, to fix it, to turn it around. In the case of the bills, it's a new tenant, starting in August, and a new austerity starting right now. In the case of the scale, it's water and walking and yoga.

And vigilance. Vigilance all round.

Bet you didn't think you

Your command, my wish, as it turns out

So there I am, surfing over to Body of Work, as is my pretty-much-daily habit these days, because I am addicted to the writing of Anne. And there, on the front page at Elastic Waist is a little yoo-hoo to yours truly.

Funny, that. I was just thinking, as I waited a microsecond for the page to load, it's time to head over to Mighty Mighty, blow the dust off, see if anyone's still around. Heh.

I mean, here's the kind of day it's been: Late to bed, early to crank off the alarm, reluctantly up, 40-minute walk. Come home, make breakfast, absent-mindedly undercook Taco's boiled eggs by five minutes, yecch. Drive him to his music workshop, come home, pack lunch, ride bike to work, workity work work work all day, race home on bike, make healthy supper with husbandly help, dash off to writers' group meeting, come home, begin to think about blogging, suddenly cat sits up, coughs in a horrifying portentous way and pukes in the wicker chair. Minutes later, husband frantically demanding towels and terrible burnt sugar smell fills house as home-made beer boils over and courses down stove and across kitchen floor like horrible, inevitable lava. Sacrifice old but still good (well, not any more) bath towel and two tea towels to the cause, retreat from kitchen, sticky-footed and sighing.

And I hate to tell you, but that's actually kind of a normal day.

All of which is to say that my main issue continues...which is that I am a creature of habit, which is great when my habits are good and my routine can continue unmarred. But the last year...has been a trial, frankly. So much good stuff...the renovation stopped the house from sliding into the backyard. Marrying Taco was the smartest thing I've ever done. Seeing my novel actually get published was pretty frigging awesome also. The new job, and then the other new job, have also rocked. And the French lessons, don't forget those. It's all great and positive stuff.

But it railroaded my routine. First to go was exercise, quickly followed by healthful eating.

I am making overtures to my old healthy habits, trying to win them back. Setting small goals...daily walks. Two litres of water. Three pilates or yoga sessions a week. Two days in, I'm hitting it out of the park on walks, am batting about five hundred on the water, and am considering a pinch hitter for the yoga/pilates...whoa, my metaphor fell apart. I mean, I'm planning for those sessions over the next five days.

Meanwhile, I am diligently packing a lunch and eating healthful snacks.

Right now, it feels like all I can do. So I do it. And we'll see, you know? We'll just see.

Recommitted and it feels so...good, I guess

I started tracking again yesterday. It takes forever. But I do love the numbers.

Except for the number on the scale, and worse, the ones on the tape measure. Those, I do not love. I am working to never see those particular numbers again. And this time I mean it.

Today was good. Ate well and copiously, then hit the gym and worked out for nearly two hours, which felt great. I had all kinds of energy due, no doubt, to the good food I ate all day.

Walked home in the freezing cold. Was too beat to make the curried greens I'd been dreaming of all day, so instead I ate the last of the sweet potato peanut soup I made on Sunday (damn good) and a big salad. We got our first organic food box delivery last night, and now the fridge is stuffed with gorgeous food. I'll make those curried greens tomorrow night.

So, at the gym...it turns out I can "run" on the elliptical. I pushed myself and got up to a pretty reasonable speed, and it doesn't hurt my knee, and the endorphins feel pretty damn good. So THAT'S what everyone's talking about. Huh.

Hello?

I could have sworn I was here more recently than November, but apparently not.

I can't say I have much to report. I am slowly trying to get a grip on things. I have gained back...um...about 20 pounds. It kills me to have to tell you this. There are reasons/excuses. That whole renovating/planning a wedding/finishing my novel thing I had going on all fall. A change in my job brought along a change in routine that made getting to the gym difficult and all but blew our daily morning walk out of the water.

And holy smokes, that morning walk was effective. Even on the weeks when I could do no other exercise, that morning walk helped me maintain. The walk is coming back. We start Monday. If it's cold, if we're tired, doesn't matter. Monday morning, we walk.

What else? I need to start tracking again. I logged in at Weightloss Resources the other day out of curiousity and was surprised to find my account still active. I thought I'd cancelled it. Apparently not.

I want to get back to it. I feel much better when I weigh less. My knees are starting to get a bit achy again, and I don't have the energy and verve I remember having this time last year.

I can tell you that I've been back to the gym twice this week and it has felt amazing both times. Tomorrow I have an 8am French class, but I will aim to get up early and do a half hour yoga abs dvd. And tomorrow night, Taco has an out-of-town gig, so no Friday night date for us. Instead, I will go to the gym after work.

All I can do is keep doing the best I can, until it becomes natural again.

In which our heroine gamely admits that she has lost the plot

But sadly, not the weight.

No friends, quite the opposite. The grim fact is, some of the weight (not all!) has come back. I have allowed it to come back. I am not happy about this. I am not proud of this. It is what it is, which is...not great.

I can feel it, too, this fat suit I thought I'd left behind (for a slightly smaller fat-suit, that is, but still). My clothes are a little tighter and less flattering, my right knee feels all hinky again, my muscles feel...non-existant.

Part of it was wedding and renovation stress (oh yeah! I'm totally married now! It's wicked. Here, to distract you, are some photos), part of it is my stupid work schedule that eats up all my time every day and renders me a bump on a log of a chair with wheels. Part of it is...I don't know. A feeling that everything else was out of control for a while, which always makes me anxious and when I'm anxious like that, I eat.

And then I just plain old didn't get to the gym very much, and started eating chocolate and bread every day, and you know, that way madness lies. And I stopped weighing myself, and headed back to that happy town called Denial.

Well, baby, I am back. Tentatively. I am working hard to be back, let's put it that way. I know I need to start tracking. I need to figure out the exercise thing, and just stop being so frigging busy all the time, or maybe prioritize the exercise thing on the weekends, instead of trying to fit it in around my stupid work schedule (which will be changing in January, thank god). I need to get my head straight about this whole enterprise, again. Because I liked the way I was feeling, and I don't like the way I'm feeling now.

Writing here is a massive first step.

And I lost about a pound this week, just by being a bit more conscientious.

So that's positive. And the rest, I will keep working on.

Third verse, same as the first

"June 22," Taco said last night. "Do you know what you did on June 22?"
"Hmm," I said. "Second day of summer. Two days after our anniversary. I...um...oh. Updated my blog. That's the last time I updated my blog, yeah."

Yeah.

Hi! So, um, where have I been all this time?

Well, we went on vacation. And then we came back. And then we started dealing with the back of the house, which is kind of sliding off the front of the house. And I went back to work, and worked on refinancing the mortgage (see above re: sliding house parts), and addressed our wedding invitations, and a hundred thousand other things/excuses.

And, ok, I guess I'm having a hard time lately. Vacation kicked it off, of course. I'd been doing so well before that. Boot camp twice a week on Citadel Hill early in the morning had me pretty trim, with great muscle tone. Then, um, vacation. There was a bridal shower for me, with crustless sandwiches and frillions of small desserts. Those small desserts reappeared frequently during our three-week vacation. And so did my love of beer. And all my glorious plans to walk every morning? Yeah, not so much.

So then we came home, and I kept eating as if we were still on vacation. And not so much, again, with the working out.

Still, I did walk a lot while we were away, because that's what you do. And I've been eating mostly pretty well since we got back, I'm just eating too much of it. I've gained around 5 pounds I think. Which isn't the end of the world, but is definitely the wrong direction in which to be heading, especially since, you know, the lovely green dress that is being made for me in another city, that I won't be able to try on till the week before the wedding, and that won't fit if I don't carve off at least those five pounds in the next month and a half.

The good news it is certainly do-able. The good news is I have been spumping twice a week (Spumping = half hour of spin, half hour of body bar, a whole lotta awesome), and walking at least twice a week, and busting out random toning exercises many evenings if I'm watching tv. The good news is I want to turn the ship around.

Sigh. Here we go again...

Old dog, meet new trick

Alright, alright, I’ll post already, in the hopes it will quiet the nagging voice in my head.

Here’s the thing. Or one of them, anyhow. There may be a few things. Ahem.

Thing The First
I completed an awesome three-week, twice-a-week outdoor bootcamp, led by…oh, god, it’s been so long, I forget what clever name I gave her…right, right: The Asskicker. And indeed, she was. She kicked my ass up and down Citadel Hill, Tuesday and Thursday mornings for an hour. It was phenomenal. Way, way better than any class I’ve taken at any gym, and brother, I’ve taken lots of those. It was super challenging, we worked out even in the pouring rain, and I noticed results FAST. Which is great because…

Thing The Second
I am having a little…ummm…trouble with food. Some weeks, terrifically hungry, other weeks, not hungry at all. So, some days, I weigh 206 and other days, 211. I do not go below 206 no matter what. Could I go above 211? I’d prefer not to find out. Why am I doing this? Good question…

Thing The Third
It all comes down to routine. Every. Goddamn. Time. So, I hosted the morning show, had two days off, then started producing the afternoon show. Totally different schedule, totally different set of pressures and challenges…totally turned my eating upside down. In a couple different ways. My old job was so easy and therefore boring that I snacked ALL DAY to alleviate the boredom. Usually, I’d snack on healthy stuff, but still, snacking. This job, I don’t have a spare second for snacking. The pace is nuts, and I’m still learning the ropes, and it’s LIVE RADIO which frankly terrifies me and so, you know, not so much with the snacking. But then, when I get home from work at 6:15, I am RAVENOUS and also so relieved that I’ve successfully (or, heh, not) put another show on the air. And so I eat mindlessly. A little frantically, in fact. As if I’d learned nothing over the last almost two years. Cripes. The other thing that’s going on is that Taco’s schedule has been all over the place, so he’s hardly home for supper. I usually can’t be bothered to make supper if it’s just me eating, so I graze. A LOT.

So that’s all kind of stupid. Can’t be bothered to make supper for myself? What the holy hell? It is so easy for me to forget to esteem myself at least as highly as I do those I care for. So frigging easy. Why is it so easy, internet, why? Why must I keep attempting to learn the same basic lesson? What will it take for me to finally get it, and keep it? Start living it? If you know, by all means, pipe up.

It’s complicated because I keep receiving positive feedback, even though my performance has not been where it should be. I purchased, and am currently wearing, knee-length shorts in a size 14 regular. Fourteen! What the? And all day, every day, people are telling me I look great. Most days, I can even see that for myself. I see my hands are thinner. My butt is more toned. I look normalish when I catch myself in the mirror. Not thin, by any standards, but not the kind of fat the lizard part of my brain still believes I am.

I am conflicted about this, though. It feels like denial, a subject about which I simply must write more, because to a large extent it is part of my problem.

I will write about it this weekend. I am recommitting to myself. I actually signed up for Nicole’s challenge, over at AFW (would love to include a nifty link here, but the mac laptop and the blogger website are not really on great terms, so…you can find the link in my sidebar). I registered at Spark People, and goddamn it, I’m going to get on top of this. My yoga summer pass kicks in on Monday. And in the meantime, there’s walking, weight training and pilates to do.

Arf!