I didn’t work out yesterday

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It was Monday. It was a gorgeous fall day with the sun out and the wind blowing the slightly changing leaves across the neighborhood. And I was on the couch with the dog. I stayed there most of the day. I had intended to go run, doing our two mile loop up on top of the Rims, but I had hit a wall. Not physically, even though we’d hiked twice over the weekend and done some good outdoors work, but emotionally.

Partly, it was due to waking up to the news about the mass shooting in Las Vegas. I made my first trip there last spring and was just stunned at the scale and the volume of people on the streets. I’m not the first or last to talk about the horrors that unfolded there Sunday night. But it hit me in the gut and I just shut down for a while. I found myself staring at the news, at my phone, at Facebook and Instagram watching everyone post about it. I checked in a with a few friends who had connections there. They were all safe, but some friends of friends were hurt. I sank further into the couch. The dog came and slept on my legs. It was as if he was saying “Just stay put here. It’s ok.” So we sat. We sat and sat. I changed the channel around 10am to a movie that I wasn’t watching. I plugged in my phone to charge it as I’d already sapped the battery. I half heartedly looked up some recipes for the focaccia bread I’d promised Dan I’d bake that day before dinner. I printed some out. I procrastinated.

Then around 2pm, I realized that if I didn’t start baking the focaccia, it would never get done in time for dinner, since it needed several hours and rounds of rising to happen. So I got up and picked the simplest (i.e., the recipe that didn’t mean I had to go to the store for a different flour than I have at home) and got to work. I put the dough together easily and put it in a warm oven to rise. I’d done very little so far, and was still in my pajamas. I still didn’t feel like leaving the house, but I went out to get the mail from the box and to bring the trash can in from the curb. It was something.

I went in and at least washed my face and brushed my teeth. It was something. I felt better. I put on real pants (no bra, still, because, c’mon, they’re awful). I puttered and did some dishes. It was something. I put on a movie I didn’t really have to watch. I started researching writer’s retreats I could apply for, since the one I’d put my hopes in back in July had sent me a rejection on Sunday. I found a few that had deadlines that had just passed. Bummed, but OK with it, since I saved myself $70 in application fees I guess.

The bread timer went off and I went and did the next step. It was behaving OK and that made me feel good. I went and got fresh rosemary from the garden for the topping. It was the first time I’d put on shoes that day. The dog was feeling like fetching for a bit, so we did that.

The bread turned out great and dinner was good with leftover soup from Sunday. Dan came home from a long day on the road and we sat down to dinner together. We missed the entire evening news cycle. I broke the news about Tom Petty. It was kind of somber.

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So I went the whole day and didn’t work out. But I felt OK by the time we went to bed. I did some small things that helped my mental state. Ended up with some good bread. Had a slow day watching something or other that I’ll forget, and set a plan for doing something better today.

It was something. I’m trying to be ok with “something.”

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If you want to lose weight and don’t blog about it, does anybody care?

A year ago I got married. It was a long time coming (10 years of dating) and it was amazing. The year leading up to it, however, was full of turmoil. We moved from Chicago to Montana and were in major flux all year while we looked for our first house to buy, dealt with illnesses on both sides, got a dog, and got ready for a big ass wedding. During that time I also ended a remote job and started a full-time office job here. Our schedules mostly revolved around the dog’s exercise and training, not working out, at least for me. The stress of the wedding and craziness meant I lost a lot of weight. I’m not sure how much, but probably 30 pounds. I wasn’t weighing myself. I was just trying on my wedding dress every month or so to make sure it still fit. I needed it to fit.

Come our wedding day, it did indeed fit, but I’d barely been eating for about a month. Two bites of anything was enough to fill me up. Sounds great, right? Not really. The second the wedding was over, and the stress lifted, my appetite came back. I ate. Not a crazy amount…not like stuff your face full of nachos all day amount…but more than I’d been nibbling on for months. I was eating like a normal person. I turned 40 in January. It got dark and cold. That, paired with snacks at work and a winter that brought an insane amount of snow and ice to the streets that they don’t plow here, meant that I gained weight over the winter. A lot of weight. I kept on gaining weight as work got stressfull last fall. I had to buy bigger jeans. I had to almost buy two sizes bigger than my current size. It wasn’t fun. I cried a lot.

I went to the doctor for something unrelated (some skin something, I think) and the scale blew me away. For the first time in my life, I weighed 200 pounds. 203 to be exact. I was shocked. I’m 5’8″ tall, which means over 195, my BMI says “obese” by the WHO standards (other standards just say “moderately overweight“). Still, doesn’t make me feel good. I decided I needed to change, but for the past year, I’ve literally been at an impasse about what diet/workout is “right” for me now. Do I want to go back to running/training for races? Do I want to try Crossfit again? Do I need a “thing” and if so, what’s my “thing” now? And the bigger elephant in the room: Could I even begin to lose the weight now that I’m 40 years old? 

Then the bottom fell out in mid September…at I got motivated. I got laid off from work. Suddenly I have freetime while I freelance and look for my next gig. So two weeks in, I’ve been trying to go with a friend to the gym (that I already pay for anyway) for a 45-minute circuit workout class twice a week, with a possible Friday bootcamp class, too. I also started running with the dog, since he’s old enough to handle some structured exercise like a slow jog with mama. I’m aiming to run twice a week T/Th. Right now, it’s a stop/start 2-mile circuit. I think I’ll try to get ready for the Turkey Trot 5K at Thanksgiving. Seems reasonable anyway.

My IT band flares still. Brought on from too much sitting at work, my glutes get tired and stiff while I run. I got a cramp from situps yesterday. I stop and stretch and then keep going. The dog wants to run. He gets tired after but his energy is always high while we go. He’s barely trotting because I run so slowly. Sometimes he helps pull me up hills.

So this goes to my thoughts this morning. Should I blog about trying to lose weight. Would anyone read it? Do you care? Do I care? Would logging this time in my life keep me motivated or responsible? Maybe.

So here goes.

Day 1 (or thereabouts):

Weight: 199.3 lbs.

BMI: 30

Activity for the day: 2.5 mile jog with the dog.

Healthy food of note: Oven-roasted tomatoes from the garden for homemade pasta sauce.