I’d love to lose 10 pounds. I’ve actually been saying this for a couple of years now. Everyday, I wake up, get dressed and depending on what the scale says and how my clothes fit, I usually think, “I’d love to lose 10 pounds.” Some days it’s 15. I adore cooking, enjoy eating even more and don’t really like to exercise. That’s pretty much the trifecta of doom when it comes to a productive weight loss strategy.
In my mission to wear a bikini in public again, I have armed myself with some pretty amazing tools to help me take off these stubborn last few pounds. We bought a used elliptical machine and placed it in our bedroom. I have at least 10 DVDs of numerous workouts ranging from kickboxing to stress relieving yoga. I bought a daily deal for 10 Zumba classes. For Christmas, I asked for “Just Dance 2” on the Wii so I can shake my groove thang while burning calories. I even got Zumba for PS3 so I can pretend that my groove thang is Latin when I want to switch it up.
Strangely, even after arming myself with all of these amazing weight loss tools, I have not lost more than a pound or two. The ugly truth is this: Until last week, the elliptical was a great place for my husband to hang his laundry. The workout DVDs are gathering dust under the DVDs of Baby Einstein that see a lot more action these days. I went to two Zumba classes with my sweet friend and neighbor Berween but our schedules got busy and we have not yet been back. I have done “Just Dance 2” a few times but the Zumba PS3 game is still in the package. Continue reading Finding Your “Want To”→
I most definitely did not need THAT. However, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the state of my physique. I looked in the mirror and saw a mother of two who was destined to spend her life on an ongoing quest to get back into the beautiful, pre-baby clothes that longingly called my name every time I chose my outfit from the two-sizes-bigger section of my closet. I’ve never been technically overweight, but the bottom line for me was that I wasn’t where I used to be and felt most comfortable. Yes, I was younger then. No, I hadn’t birthed two children then. None of those facts made me feel any better, however.
I was frustrated…frustrated that I was doing what I’ve always done (eating what I thought was relatively healthy meals and going to the gym) and that simply wasn’t cutting it. I told myself that I just needed to prioritize going to the gym more frequently, jog faster and work out for longer periods of time. I felt like I was living out that old adage about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
(For “Hitting Bottom – Saddlebags First Entry, go here.) I took it as a good omen. I pulled up to the Oklahoma State University Seretean Wellness Center and standing majestically next to the entrance were trees just bursting with fall color.
I took it as a good omen because I was looking for anything to hold on to, and fall foliage would do just as well as…oh, say…the parking meter I was fumbling with. I was on my way to an appointment I had set with the coordinator of personal training. I already feared this woman and I had never even met her.
As I neared the entrance, I glanced at the wall, paused and then stopped to read:
Okay, fine. Rub it in. Use deep words, philosophically crafted to reach down into my literature loving soul and say to me things that I didn’t want to hear because they were so perfect. Ugh. Wow. Deep breath. Okay. I pulled open the door and went in.
Kip, the student attendant at the front desk, was nice, made a joke and continued to make this horrible visit as pleasant as possible. “What is wrong with you people!?” I thought. “I’m trying to be sullen and all scared here, okay?” I didn’t even have time to sit in the waiting area and get anxious. Within two minutes, Joanna was bounding up the stairs with a smile on her face as well. “Don’t look her in the eye,” I continued to tell myself. “This experience has to be bad because I’ve built it up to be – – do NOT submit to her powers.”
Everything after that moment was a blur. Joanna started asking me what my goals were, what barriers were in my life preventing me from achieving these goals, and writing what I said down. “Stop it – don’t write it down!”…I continued my panicked thinking, “If you write it down then it will be real!” She looked at me and smiled again. [Cripes! Smiles everywhere!] Some external force took over my body and made me answer her questions, made me fill out a form and sign a membership, and made me commit to twelve sessions – to be completed at least twice per week. “…And we’ll reassess your goals then…to see if you’re ready to crank it up another level to three sessions per week. You really need to exercise intensely for 150 minutes per week if you want to burn calories and get in shape….”
150 minutes per week-week-week-week-week. The words were echoing in my head like someone had played around with a sound system in the building intercom system.
I don’t even know what that means. I was looking at her but I was thinking, “Maybe if I run really fast she won’t catch me. Even in these high-heeled boots, I’ll bet I could give her a good run for the money.” Then I looked at her. She was petite, in great physical shape, was wearing one of those stop-clock watches and had a determined set to her jaw. I think her jaw was more determined than mine. I gave in…right there in my head I knew she was living what she was talking about and I needed to listen to her.
“Okay,” I replied. “I guess I’m ready to go ahead and set up my schedule. And, oh – hey, I’m writing about this experience on my blog. Would you mind if I took your picture?”
A very brief but real look of surprise and possible fear crossed her face. “A blog? Um, what kind of blog? Is it – is it local?” She hadn’t agreed to the photo yet, and all of a sudden there was a slight change in that determined jaw.
I relaxed. She was human…just like me. “Well, it’s just a group of friends and we write about different things around Oklahoma and about Red Dirt country. I wrote an entry about how I needed to get in shape and I’m going to be following up with my progress – – how things go. I’m kind of scared about it.” Then, she relaxed.
She and Kip posed, the camera flashed, and I walked out the door.
Joanna and Kip. Nice people at the Wellness Center.
I had no idea a little tiny Canon camera could be that powerful. And, I start next Tuesday morning.
I looked at the trees as I walked out, re-read the quote on the wall, and smiled. “Okay, this is going to be horrible. And, I guess I’m okay with that,” I said to myself. Then me and my saddlebags walked back to my car and drove back to work.
I’ll be 48 years old in four weeks, I wear a women’s size 12, my dress shoe size is 7 and I weigh between 149-151 pounds every morning I check the scales.
In other words, I’m middle-aged, wear a middle-sized clothes, mid-range footwear and am in the middle of the 100 and 200 pound mark on the scales. And, I’ve run out of excuses. Here are the excuses, reasons or “logical thoughts” I’ve used for the past year to avoid a healthier lifestyle:
I’m busy.
I have a hard time prioritizing between my academic life and my personal life.
The time with my husband and children are more important than exercising.
I’m smaller than some of my friends.
I’m smaller than my husband.
I’m smaller than some of my family members.
If I were really okay with my own self-image then it wouldn’t matter.
I’ll start when I’m done with my Ph.D.
I’ll start tomorrow.
I’ll start on Monday.
If my faith were stronger I wouldn’t be struggling so much.
If I balance out the fat and sugar I’m consuming with all this good home-cooked food, then at least I’m getting the vitamins I need.
My husband, children and family still love me regardless of my physical fitness.
It’s my job’s fault. It’s my fault. It’s my genetics’ fault…
I'm walking around with two of these strapped permanently on my thighs. Click photo to buy one for your horse.
I started thinking about the saddlebag metaphor, referencing her hips as a body part with which she struggles. That’s how I feel right now. I feel weighted down from being my normal, energetic self. I feel like I’m carrying around a load that I can’t unhitch. So, I did just a few minutes of research and found this link explaining to the trail rider about Horse Saddle Bags: Packing For Success.
The information on their page is crystal clear. Saddle bags are for packing a work load, but should be removed once the job is done. They’re not to be worn 24 hours a day. They also had some extremely deep information I related to myself when considering a saddle-bag purchase:
Horse’s (Kelly’s) size
Horse’s (Kelly’s…you get the picture) conditioning
Horse’s build (conformation)
Horse’s attitude
Horse’s age
Saddle size, fit and weight
Saddle’s ability to distribute weight
Rider’s weight and experience
Saddlebag design and fit
Distance of ride and type of terrain
Weather (esp. heat and humidity)
In other words, you only buy the gear and load up the animal with what they can take, what type of horse it is, and what kind of ride you’re going to make.
I sat there with my permanent, oversized, weighted down saddle bags reading that article and thought: “This is it.” In my relationship with myself, I have to help myself. I can’t blame anyone, anything, any time…it’s up to me.
The only time I want to wear saddlebags is when I’m hiking a trail, or when I’m using real ones on a real horse for a real-life trail ride.
This past summer I began a running program and was successful at keeping it up in Oxford until I came back to Oklahoma. But I can’t blame Oklahoma. All I can do is realize that the only person who can help this situation is me.
What am I going to do? One of two things. I have a former student who now owns a fitness company. I’m going to call him and explore that option. I work at a University that emphasizes health all the time. I’m going to explore that option. Then I’m going to decide, face my fears, perhaps get rid of a scheduling obligation or two, and get started. I’m scared, I don’t WANT to do this, but I really want to feel like myself again.
I’ll let you know how it goes ~ Red Dirt Kelly
Also…this is the photo of what’s sitting right in front of me on my desk. Which do you think I need to find a new home for?
Water? Kisses? Which one needs to find a new home?
