The Seinfeld Schedule

Once upon a time I felt success. It came from getting on my treadmill every day for a week, and soon every day for two. Then a month. Then 74 days came and went and I was still getting on the treadmill in my bedroom, pumping up the speed and beating out however much mileage I could cover for however long I could reasonably stay on without becoming bored, irritated or angry. I was so glad of myself then. I'd reached a few pre-set mental milestones and was feeling the win....then I quit.

It was a flu-like bugger that rendered me helpless. I was bedridden one, then a few days. And on those days I managed to allow my mind to believe I'd failed. I didn't make 75 days. Part of me wished to get back on the treadmill and resume count, and I couldn't. I'd have to start the count over.

So I didn't go on the treadmill again. Not for ages. As in 10 months.

Call it a New Year scramble or what-have-you...I am walking again. I started this Monday and am on day four. Rather than spew all my hopes at this blog post (and set expectations!) I am only letting you know that I'm four days in...this minute.

Guinea Pig Me

I've joined the Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus blind study at U.Va.'s Center for Behavioral Medicine Research. Not sure which control group I'll belong to just yet, but I am very much hoping to be in the behavior modification group rather than the group that is dependent on the use of Metformin to regulate insulin for the next six months.

My intent for signing up is to follow whatever instructions I'm given over the study period and I have some apprehension in doing so...mainly because to complete the study successfully, I will have to test my blood sugar several times a day, every day, for the next six months. I want to be a fair and dedicated participant so I will only go ahead with signing on the dotted line (so to speak) if I believe I can endure all those finger pricks. Initially, they're not going to bother me. Over time, if my fingertips become sore or sensitive or, worse, unfeeling, I am bound to get angry.

SO some adjustment is going to be necessary. Lots of patience for the redundancy of logging my blood sugar numbers. The flip side - the best side - is that, with U.Va.'s help, I will learn how my body responds to my eating behavior and how it responds to my lifestyle, too. OR I will learn how it responds to Metformin. Yeah. PLEASE LET ME BE IN THE NON-MEDICATED GROUP!

I've printed my paperwork and will bring it with me to my initial visit, tomorrow morning, where I will sign it if  I believe I can withstand all that blood sugar testing and record-keeping. Right now, the accountability of being on a program that is monitored by the doctor and nurse practitioner at the center could provide enough emotional fuel to keep my engine going at those times when I might run out. It's within reason to believe that small successes I reach along the way will provide all the emotional fuel I need to keep going.

As of Midnight, there is a restriction of eating or drinking anything but water. Tomorrow, I will weigh in, find out my fasting blood sugar number, have lots of diagnostic exams (including a stress test,) and take home my first week's worth of information on how to get started. I'm told it's going to be a three hour process.

Whew!

SO I WENT

Boarded a plane, and stopped in Philly, with a final destination of Boston. My uncle and aunt flooded my ears with opinions of who is good for mom and who isn't, who may be using her, who's bringing on the drama, who's a pretty good help and so on. I took it all into consideration and went to my mom's readied for battle - but not willing to shut down the shop that is mom care. I hoped I wouldn't have to.

While there, I did manage to get my mom to come downstairs for Thanksgiving dinner. I also managed to ostracize one of her boarders, pissed my cousin off, reduced one of her caretakers' hours, hired someone new to work overnights and hired a house cleaner.

Two boarders, grown men, and I hired a house cleaner. Yeah. Meanwhile, mom's willing to try when I'm present but, when I am gone again, it appears that she reverts to her fatigue and lack of want to do anything to push herself and get better.

Sadly, I know this inertia...and probably many people do. We all complain about things and convince ourselves of doing what's easiest or laziest or uses the least amount of energy instead of working hard.

I've found that we often work hard at things we enjoy doing and anything else gets low or no priority. When you work at what you enjoy, the time flies and you sort of have to stop yourself from continuing way beyond a time that is fair to the rest of your life.

I don't know what my mom can do to make caring about herself something she enjoys. For me, cooking helps me to enjoy the low carb lifestyle - cooking and the detective work it takes to deconstruct familiar and well-loved recipes to build a better version without the use of foods that hurt my body. The end result, every time, is that I love taking care of myself when I figure out some genius way to make something I know I can eat and love and will not stress my liver or pancreas or heart by eating.

I left mom's happy that I didn't fall off the wagon - not even for Thanksgiving - and I didn't feel bad or left out by not eating pie, carrot cake, mashed potatoes or gobs of stuffing. I had some turkey, green beans, gravy and a little cranberry sauce <- some carbs in there, but choices I could live with very very happily.

I left mom with a daily schedule of round the clock care and a mention that if she really doesn't choose to help herself, then hospital care or a move to Virginia is next. I WILL move her here if it appears that she needs 24 hour care for the rest of her life. She has a window of opportunity right now to change that need...and I hope she can find fun in it. I hope she can come out of this. I'm prepared for if she can't, though, and I'm sticking to my boundaries.... and taking care of me.

Now, if only I can make exercising fun. I may have to join a dance class. It's the only exercise I truly LOVE to do.

Reduce, Reuse, ReTreadmill

So, I've significantly reduced the amount of work I do in a day. I want to make sure my decision gets the respect it deserves by making the time I've earned count for something. So, I had to ask myself what I want...and the answer was discipline.

My father-in-law is a retired U.S. Major. He's happy and motivated by taking care of himself. His routine is so established that it is predictable down to the orange juice he has to have with breakfast and the cup of soup he enjoys with every lunch. He exercises daily. He sets out to do things and completes them. He doesn't take on things he doesn't feel he can commit to. I believe he is a good example of personal success because he is happy and comfortable with his self-care, and he can do it in a way that serves others but that doesn't compromise his happiness and comfort.

His way of doing things has been on my mind because I'd like to achieve some of the same things he has - especially the personal commitment to taking care of myself.

As you know, I've made some immediate changes in order to treat myself (and others!) better, be less hard on myself, less taxing on someone else...so I feel I am on my way.

This morning, I woke with the idea that I would make a list of things I want to be disciplined about. I even went to Google for others' examples of living a life of discipline - and wow, I am glad I did!

I found this site written by a Zen practitioner to be really helpful. At first, I wanted to argue that discipline is no illusion - I see my dad in law stick to it. I see others around me, like Jay at work, stick to it...and I want to, too.

After reading the "discipline is an illusion" post, I had to admit the content makes sense. Not only that, but it makes 'discipline' accessible and lends to the appearance of PROBABLE, should I go ahead and apply the principles of discipline I admire so much of others in the controlled environment the zen piece describes.

Ultimately, I know the decision and the exertion is mine alone. I know that nobody wakes my father-in-law up and tells him to exercise today. Nobody shakes Jay out of bed and says he has to pray and spend the day celebrating everyone he meets. But they do it. Because they want to.

It feels right to think about what I want to do...and that zen-writer piece seems like a good reference to use again and again until I do feel disciplined. To me, there is admirable strength in making healthy choices for oneself...and I, of course, want to live admirably.

So, I'm going to think about this and jot down wants for myself until I can form a list that I'm happy with and eager to go ahead with. And I'm going to meet Barb at the gym today, as planned, because I really like to be there and I really like her company and I really like the feeling I get when I've accomplished that hour of self-care.

I AM SO GRUMPY.

So, I'm writing out my irritations and then attempting to find the good. It's what I'm inclined to do. It keeps me from going to my bed and pulling up the covers for days on end. Heeeere we go!

I'm still angry that I'm struggling with the hormones rule. And I'm looking forward to the start of my Yourishment group next week. Coach Ivana has a reasonable plan that is going to change the way I eat, the types of foods I focus on, and should safely distance me from my carbohydrates addiction. So, while I am not finished being upset about the crap choices I've made, I'm literally praying for Tuesday to be the beginning of optimal health for me and the rest of the group. Come on, Tuesday!!!

I was so friggen tired at work today, I did everything slowly and I felt stupid. The workday is over. I'm a reasonably good worker. I care a lot about my job(s) and put a lot of heart into the things I do. Today just plain sucked. Tomorrow means there's an opportunity to shake off the dumbness of today. Right? Right. Plus, I may get better sleep tonight (as long as the earth stops grinding underneath the house!) Okay, so the aim is to get sleep, be refreshed and ready to be a rockstar tomorrow.

My husband left to race his car again. I sometimes like it when he goes away to drive his car and hang with his buddies. Some track days, though, I'd like it if he didn't go away. There is a bunch to do and I'm exceedingly nervous about being here with creepy shaky house while he is driving round and round, going wheeeeheeee!!! wahooooo!! far away from the tremors and nowhere near the sounds of thunder. Yes, I am jealous. BOO. HISS. Oh, wait, a good thing. A good thing. Uhm... he'll be back tomorrow. And he's home for the weekend. And that means stuff around the house with his name on it can get taken care of. And being in the creepy shaky house (if the storms come or the earth quakes) won't be as horrible. Bright side.

My brother's constantly fighting, dramatic family simply overwhelms me with its major issues and horrible threats and they worry me, they embarrass me and knowing they are such a mess and UNWILLING TO DO ANYTHING BUT BITCH ABOUT IT AND FIGHT AND BLAME EACH OTHER is heartbreaking. My brother moved out. This could be the start of some kind of healing. Some kind of positive direction. Some kind of ease in the tension and hatred and sadness for the lot of them. I pray that this will be good - not that they won't work it out, but that maybe they will now. I pray.


I told my kid not to let me weasel out of our walking time on the treadmill tonight. WHY DID I SAY THAT?! To be accountable, happy in my skin, proud of myself, on-track with exercise, forward-moving, less sad, less irritated....and that is reason enough to quit the internal whine fest and get my damn shoes on. The more I get this done, the less of a grind it is going to be.

About last night...

Like I mentioned, Hopper did great work on the treadmill last night. We split our time up in 15 minute intervals and I went first. She provided the entertainment by way of Finding Nemo on DVD. We had that to watch to pass the time...but we did a little bit of talking, too.

After the first fifteen minutes of bickering had worn down it was fun to be there with her. She knows every noise and facial expression of every character in the movie. In some parts, her recited lines were louder than the film...and I finally said, "this is why I sing along with the radio even when you ask me not to."

Parent:1 Kid: 0.

She only slowed it down a fraction because she likes to show what she knows and was back to quoting lines again. (Don't tell her I liked it.)

On the treadmill, fifteen minutes goes by pretty quickly when you're used to at least a half hour, so it didn't take a whole lot of mental energy to get the job done. Physically, I was tired, but it was worth getting on there and walking just to spend some time together and feel like we're doing something good together at the same time. She's a fast walker, too! I was impressed with her speed and that she could keep such a pace without sweat dripping from the tips of her bangs into her eyes. I didn't think to ask how she does that, but I will next time.

In all, we spent an hour together listening, chit chatting, walking and watching Dori and Marlon swim around looking for Nemo. I have to do some home walking tonight because I had a lunch date and didn't go to the gym (I cannot eat and then go workout, it doesn't work for me at all.) I don't expect her to want to join me, but we've agreed to do this Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays...and I am really looking forward to that.

Food Logs: Tues 8/16 & Weds 8/17

Tues: 8/16

WAKE TIME: 6ish AM

7:10 AM/hurried, not hugely hungry
Carnation packet, 2% milk, banana...you know the drill!

12:00 PM/kind of hungry, but want to wait...
Water w/Crystal light

1:30 PM/hungry
a med apple

2:40 PM/still kind of hungry
2 eggs, ham & cheese, whole wheat bagel, Water.

NAP: 4:30 PM to 7 PM

8 PM/not very hungry, but as it's getting late...
a blueberry scone, water.

10 PM/caffeine greed
Diet Coke

Bedtime: just before Midnight.


Wednesday 8/17...

WAKE TIME: 6 AM

7:10 AM/hungry
Carnation instant breakfast, 2% milk, banana.

1:20 PM/hungry
a med apple

EXERCISE: Treadmill 1/2 mile, Bike 1/2 mile (and all the other stuff w/trainer Barb)

2:30 PM/hungry
baby spinach salad w/ grilled chicken & tomatoes, ranch dressing. baked lays chips. Water.

6:30 PM/could eat
chicken parmesan w/linguini, sm salad, diet coke.

Bedtime: 10:30 PM

They are a-changing...

Good news: I haven't gained any weight (even with my non-food-logging weekend!) I didn't lose any either and that's ok.

Better News: My trainer Barb is back from her vacation so gym time was better than it is when I trudge it alone. It is great to see her and to hear what she has to say because I've got enough of a history of learning A&P from massage school and college to understand the physiology of what is happening with my body and I can isolate muscle groups mentally so when she's referring to something or asking me a question, we can both be pretty specific and that is nice.

I explained that I've been doing the mile in her absence and that I wanted to be ready to take on more today...but that I have gotten tired my last two times on the treadmill and had to split my mile up into halfs with rest in between. I couldn't explain why... but she was there to tap on my skull with the DUH hammer and asked, "have you increased your speed?"

Well...yes. I've been kicking the speed up as much as I can becauseIjustwanttogetthewalkoverwith - honest truth! My genius fitness instructor then said, "You're going to get tired earlier if you have your speed kicked up like that. SLOW DOWN."  I made faces. She's right, though, and I hadn't even thought of that as a reason. I like to think I have a rational mind and could have worked that one out on my own, but I sincerely felt it was a mystery, my not being able to finish a whole mile in one stretch, since I'd been finishing a whole mile in one stretch for about two weeks. DUH, Wendy. :)

Now that my brain is in sync with perspective, I'll be doing one long-ass (takes too long!) mile twice a week and then doing shorter bursts of faster walking (she hopes at least a half mile) once a week while at the gym. (This on top of my free weights and nautilus training stuff...of course!) In between days, I get to be sore and walk funny, which is okay...I'm used to it.

So, yeah. Lesson for today is: Consider the obvious, stupid!

Group starts in two weeks (that's when I'll be changing my diet) and I can't wait to meet The Others. I like coach Ivana quite a bit and I can see validity in the things she has to say.  I expect things will get tougher before they get easier when it comes to the diet stuff because I already know some of the foods I will be giving up for a while (or life). I just have to keep in mind that it's all for a good cause: Me.

Hey, I must be doing well because I just called myself a good cause. That's pretty great.

When DOES it become a habit?

I am so not into a habit of going to the gym. I am into a daily conversation over whether I am going to the gym and what I am going to do there - and then my evilbrain steps in with its own "ahem" list of excuses that I can choose from if I'd rather. I have come to accept that I have to allow a moment for my evilbrain to think of why I can't, wouldn't or shouldn't go to the gym on a gym day (MON WED FRI) and then I have to allow for my rational mind to reason away the excuses.

Sometimes the excuses win...just a little. I think if I didn't let myself "mess up" sometimes I'd get angry at this process and say "fuck it all" and quit it. Then again, I have to be careful not to let myself give in (as opposed to messing up) because it is just as easy to continue making diet and exercise mistakes on purpose to eventually say the same thing.

Let me tell you about my weekend: I DID NOT FOOD BLOG! I had a friend visit, I had a lot of running around/dining out to do and I let myself just -be- for the weekend. I didn't blog, I didn't food log, I didn't go to the gym after Friday and I still found myself making pretty good choices. Twice, I totally over-ordered food.... by that I mean I felt "so hungry I could eat a house," so I'd ordered the kitchen, only to begin eating and then realize that I can't possibly eat a kitchen. My own body shut me down when enough was enough before I could grab for more. I felt full and kind of lazy and a little achey, for instance, after some time spent at an Italian restaurant where I had 1 piece of garlic bread, about 4 zucchini sticks and 1 slice of a small pizza (it was a gorgeous spinach, ricotta, tomato, garlic + a little bit of bacon pizza). 1 slice. Yep, that's it.  I grew up eating entire pizzas of this size. 

By being a little bad with the diet, I feel very, very good - I feel very, very healthy both mentally and physically. The weekend was an eye-opener when it came to appetite, certainly, but it also taught me that I can choose "whatever" and still be just fine. I don't have to say "fuck it all," to have a good time. I can manage, and do a pretty good job, and resume my food log and diet routine without guilt or pain.... because my body knew when enough was enough.

So...when does going to the gym become a habit? Because I am totally skipping today. I told you sometimes the evilbrain wins.

Just don't tell it that I'm going to use the home treadmill tonight. There is no way I am giving up that mile I worked all this time for. No. Way.

Like pulling teeth embedded in concrete.

That's how my walk at the gym was! Oh, my God. I went without hesitation or second thoughts (even though I was hungry sans apple and could have easily made excuses to buy something on the way rather than wait to be home.) I felt like I had won already, really. Then I got on the treadmill and kicked that sucker up because the pace felt "lagging" to me....then I proceeded to wipe myself out.

I was just about 2/10 of a mile away from finishing a half when I really needed to pee. (Yeah, well, a fact is a fact.) I tried ignoring that and just kept walking, thinking the need would fade away and I would get to go when I reached the mile.

Then my low back started hurting. WTF. My low back hasn't hurt since like month two of all this (I started this life changing stuff on Valentine's Day of this year.) I was kind of pissed that my back hurt because it hindered the walking, so I punched the speed down to what used to be hard for me but is now kind of a crawl and I kept going. Until I got to the half-mile mark.

I had had it. I was tired. Cranky. Felt completely out of energy. Still had to pee. BLEH. So, I stopped the madness, got off the treadmill, let myself go to the ladies and then walked around a little just to loosen up.

I ended up sitting on a bike and exercised on that for 15 minutes because I had just robbed myself of 15 minutes of treadmill really.

But I really wanted to finish a mile. I was determined. I was tired. I literally felt like I couldn't do it... but I only had a half mile of it to go. I really wanted to finish. So, I got back on the treadmill (with magazines to keep my brain doing something other than letting me think and whine) and I kept the speed low and I walked..and as I felt more comfortable I pushed the speed up some more. A half mile was gone in no time - fifteen minutes - and by the time I was done, I felt GREAT. and tired. and ready for lunch and some down time.

YAY ME!

Heck, Yeah, I Did.

First, the cruddy food log:

Food Log: Monday 8/8

Wake time: 6:20 AM

7:20 AM/so-so
1 packet Carnation instant breakfast with 2% milk

10:40 AM/hungry
peanut butter & crackers out of vending machine. Water.

Exercise: 27 minute mile.

2:30 PM/could eat your house
1 foot long Subway cold cut combo with lettuce, tomato and mayonaise.
1 bag of Funions.
Water.

Nap: 3 PM to 6 something PM.


8 PM
Grocery Shopping (took an hour!)

9 PM/slightly hungry
1 Red Delicious apple, 2 T. peanut butter, 1 c. yogurt (flavored with honey).

Today, when I was deciding to go to the gym, I sat in the car in a parking lot while my head held a debate. I finally said to myself, "Well, what is it you want?" and the real answer was "I want to be super woman and go walk a mile at the gym." That's when I made up my mind to just do it. "And," I added, "I want lunch to be ready for me afterward."

I knew I didn't have groceries at home, so I went to Subway and I so didn't make a Jared choice if you know what I mean. I did learn that I can't let my kitchen get empty of easy-to-fetch, health(ier than I was eating) snacks. Had I brought my apple to work, I would have been much less hungry by the time I got out of the gym - I was hungry well before I even got there - and I wouldn't eat so heavily and then need to sleep so desperately. I know I hate food logging, but it's helping me to see where and what needs improvement.

I'm getting more excited about working with Ivana and Barb on nutrition and stamina-building respectively. Barb is gone for the week to visit her sister so I am hopefully going to surprise her with my progress when she is back to the gym. Soon there will be a woman's group to attend (Ivana is coaching) one morning a week that will (hopefully) make the transitions of more meaningful, more helpful nutritional changes than I am making on my own even easier to do.

 I've managed to stay away from fast food since the start of this blog which was the first behavior change I wanted to make. It's only been a week, right? So I have to keep going and avoiding...I'm trying to make a habit of having lunches at home, even if they're frozen portioned meals. So far, so good.

Whiney Gym Day

I didn't want to go to the gym today, but I'm glad I went. It's been two weeks since my last visit because I've let a heap of moping take precedence over fulfilling my exercise obligations. I could wah-wah-wah to you for a while and tick off a list reasons for neglecting to go, but let's not. I'm a smart woman. If there is a reason to not go, I can find it and cling to it like a bug on a blade of grass in a windstorm.

I went. And in the weeks I've missed I've lost some momentum and strength so I had to start ....well, not at the beginning. I am still in far better shape than I was when I first walked into the fitness center and asked Barb for help. So, today I began with a setback, but it wasn't awful.

Previously, I'd worked up to walking a mile and a quarter. Today, I walked three quarters of a mile. If I can walk a mile by Sunday I can be back on track  I'm not so certain I will make the Women's 4-Miler; however, I agreed to train as if it's still going to happen.

"The worst that can happen is that you can walk two miles," Barb said. She's right. I can't let the overwhelming goal of four miles stop me from getting to two. Imagine if I could walk two miles, three times a week? Today showed me that I have the right stuff...it just is going to take time. I have to remember when I couldn't even walk one mile any day of the week and see what I'm doing now as a pretty good accomplishment.

I stayed at a pretty slow pace (slower than I actually wanted to walk) but was able to keep annoying knee pain between 3-4 on a scale of 10 for the entire time. Good news, that.