Clinging To The “Wagon”

I’m not quite as enthusiastically “on board” as I was in the beginning with this little experiment, but I’m still attempting to “KLINGON”!

I dropped about a pound in my first week (I had actually dropped about 4, but then the carb-drain hit my brain and I actually ate something besides protein!) BUT I did manage to drop 2% body fat. So, I’ll settle for that.

The little “Registered Dietician”, who’s name I cannot seem to find on any “Registered Dietician” website, nor can I find any mention of her other than “A…..ibaby1” on some social media site. OH, YES! I DO LOVE DIGGING AND FINDING THAT PEOPLE ARE NOT WHAT THEY CLAIM! Or companies for that matter! And I will keep digging until I find the truth. Maybe she just doesn’t have her official credentials yet?  Hey, I’m trying to be a Pollyanna!

Okay, on with the experiment. I’ve talked to several friends who are very involved in weight lifting. They have concurred (much to my chagrin), that yes, one can survive on 100gm of carbohydrate AND lift heavy! DAMN IT! BUT, I’ve been doing some research and it’s actually better to low-no carb it during the day and “Back Carb” at night. OR low carb it during the week and have a pig out day on the last day of the week end. It apparently shocks your system. I’m still experimenting.

I weighed in yesterday at 142.6 pounds. I ate an entire a bowl of oatmeal with almond butter at breakfast. Drank a protein shake with added maple syrup (the protein drink had stevia) after my weight lifting session, and I ate an entire Grimaldi’s Pizza for dinner, and had about 10 Stacey’s Multigrain Pita chips while watching T.V.  I woke up to 140 pounds. I’ll take it. The true test is Tuesday. I’ll let you know.

My trainer is making things tougher, which is AWESOME! I really LOVE muscle. I mean, I feel kind of like a sculptor. The artistry is a little slower, but the outcome can be just as beautiful. And it doesn’t matter who you are. You can still develop beautiful biceps, the deceptive deltoids, and those luscious latissimus dorsi, sensuous soleus muscles!

Be strong, Be active, Stay beautiful.

Hey, sculpting takes time!

Continuing The Experiment and Other Stuff

I started this 90 day challenge. And I WILL FINISH IT! DAMN it’s hard!

Here’s my week, with other “stuff” thrown in:

Monday: I awoke at 04:30 and began my “spit test” as I call it. It was actually the Stress and Resilliance test. It’s supposed to measure one’s cortisol levels at different points in the day. I had to fill a 5cc container with saliva without having drank anything for 2 hours. Yeah, THAT was fun! It took me 45 minutes. AND I must tell you that each time you open the lid, you get the opportunity to smell your own spit. I work in a hospital, and I have to say that this ranked right up there with the patient that had  dripping vaginal boils. Smelling your own morning after the night before spit is just revolting. After all that I FINALLY got my cup O’ Joe!

Then I took my husband back to the Orthopedist (he had surgery LAST Wed.) because his cast became too tight. Then off to the Nazi Hell Hole to work.

Tuesday: Up at 04:00 to be at the gym by 5:30 for the weigh in/body composition and “nutrition” seminar. More about that at the end of the “week”. Then my first training session with my trainer Thomas, after I ran a couple miles.

I kept telling him “We gotta go heavier!” I think he’s afraid I’ll break or something. I’ll admit it, I was a little sore the next day, so it was a good workout!

Wednesday: Another early morning! I met with the Registered Dietician A.M.S. (I didn’t get her permission to use her name, and being that it’s a unique spelling, I decided to avoid it.) We went over the typical “What, when, why and how much do you eat?” routine.  

I’m a little concerned because she alluded to having an eating disorder, at least in the past. It’s kind of like when I met with a therapist for my problem of  eating too much too often. The therapist kept picking at her arms and scratching incessantly. I left, figuring she had more problems than I did.

Okay, back to the Dietician: So, in the hour I spent with her she convinced me that I should be taking an adrenal supplement. Made sense. I bought it. It’s all herb/plant based. I took it.

I got to work and thought I was going to fall asleep. PLUS I was incredibly depressed. I mean, it could have been due to the lack of sleep so far this week. AGAIN, back to the Dietician. The biggest issue with the Dietician is that she didn’t give me any idea of what, when, how much to eat with the exception of “Don’t eat more than 1/2 cup of berries for your fruit. Only one serving. Replace your carbs with good fats. And take the multiple vitamins we recommended.” I decided to look up the herbs/roots/wood in the supplement. After reading several sites I came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to take it being that I take a statin for my cholesterol and the main ingredient works to detoxify the liver. Statins work through your liver….. not a good combo. 

Thursday: Another fasting morning. But at least I got to sleep a little later. I am back at the gym for my “Health assessment”. A finger stick, blood pressure, flexibility, “walking fit test” and “how many push ups in a minute” deal. 

So, the finger stick STILL hurts! They did an orthostatic assessment of my blood pressure, which apparently I failed. (mine went DOWN when going from sitting to standing), but in my defense, what the fuck do you think will happen when your starving me, making me fast and dehydrating me? 

Then came the flexibility. Sitting on the floor reaching beyond your toes as far as possible WITHOUT a warm up. I’m fifty fucking four years old. I did okay though.

Then on to the “girlie” push ups. You know, the ones on your knees. I did 24 in 60 seconds. I’M FIFTY FUCKING FOUR YEARS OLD. I was “average”. AVERAGE FOR WHAT? 

The “fit test” was five minutes walking briskly at an incline. My heart rate made it all the way to 114. Come on. I’ve been training cyclicly for Ironman distance triathlon for the last 6 years. 

I FINALLY get to have a protein drink that I bought downstairs at Life Cafe, made with “berries” and protein powder. $6.95. THEN I get to go work out with Thomas.

We did lower body. We started with squats and walking lunges. I said “Ya’ know, I usually do these with weights, and I usually am doing bicep curls while doing the lunges.” He finally brought me some weights. Then on to the hamstring curl. Unilateral times 3 sets. In between those he threw in some dead lifts. He hands me about a 5 pound medicine ball. I said “We need to go a lot heavier than that.” He brings me back a 15 pound weight. I said “I typically do single leg Romanian Dead lifts with 15 pounds in each hand.” He brings me back a 40 pound weight. “NOW WE’RE TALKIN!”  I finish 3 sets of each and then move to the seated quad machine. He sets it up for 10 pounds. I’m thinking “Sheesh, this guy thinks I’m a total gray geezer!” After 10 single leg curls I wanted to cry. But I remained focused and stoic. On the second set, at 15 reps he puts his own body weight on the part of the machine resting on my shin. “Don’t let me push down.” This takes up the last 5 reps. We do this on the opposite leg. Then begin the next set with the same ending. He’s finally “getting” it. YAY! 

Friday: I’m a little sore when I get up. Not bad. I get to work, and after all of the protein drinks, water and coffee I’m due for a bathroom break. Damn, when did the toilet get so low? I don’t “sit” on the toilet. I sort of “land” on the toilet. I feel as though I ran a marathon yesterday. My quad’s feel like they are on a steady diet of “Taser”! I try not to look like “dawn of the dead” when I walk down the halls. 

I email my friend Kat and say I will join the group for a run on Saturday. They meet at 05:30.

I text her at 03:00 that I will NOT be joining them. I can barely make it to the bathroom without whimpering. 

Saturday: I sleep in. I get out of bed and don’t feel too bad. I make some coffee. I sit on the couch. “When did the couch get so low?” I wonder. I think that I will “spin” a bit on the bike trainer and try and flush out some of the lactic acid that has found a home in my legs.

My husband mentions that he wants to go with me to take the dog (The Pug Star) to the groomer. Okay. 

Here’s the way it went down: I get the Pug’s leash. She goes CRAZY. She goes in her “house”. I coax her out so I can get her collar and leash on her. I have to get her “house” un wedged so I can close the door.  I go out to the car and open the passenger door. I put her and her “house” in the front seat. I open the windows and close the door. Other wise she will be doing a face plant when the dog crate falls out of the car due to her shenanigans! 

I open the passenger rear door so my husband can scoot himself along the back seat so he can keep his ankle and foot elevated. 

My  husband rides his knee scooter to the kitchen door. The kitchen door has an automatic closer on it. I have to put a door stop in place so it stays open as he does a “nose dive” off the threshold into the garage. It always makes me nervous. He maneuvers himself and the knee scooter into place. He gets into the backseat. I fold the scooter and put it in the back of the SUV. I finally get in the drivers seat. Open the garage door and we’re off. 

I FINALLY find a “handicapped” space. The Orthopedist okayed a handicap placard, and I am ever grateful!
I DID get in 45 minutes on the bike to try and get the lactic acid wrung out of my legs!
Sunday: My BRFF and I finally got our schedules straight and went out for a run today. Of course, living in the desert we have to start before the sun wakes up!

Before the “Heat Lamp” gets turned on.

A beautiful sunrise along the canal

THE EXPERIMENT OF ONE CONTINUES

Once again I got this wild hair up my butt about getting myself in a more healthy state. As you’ve read (If you’ve been following along), I’ve had to readjust my sails recently in the area of my sporting life. With the mega doses of endurance training a faint twinkle as I look behind me, I needed another goal to keep me motivated to do some form of exercise.

It just so happens that my gym (LIFETIME FITNESS) is holding a “90 day challenge”. You can choose to be a big “loser” or be a “transformer”. I chose the latter as I don’t have a HUGE amount of weight to lose, but I could certainly transform quite a few muscle regions! So, I bought into it lock stock and two “super greens” filled barrels! I took out a second mortgage on my house and did one of those car “title loans” to pay for the trainer, the blood work, the cortisol screening thing, the dietician (yes, this gym actually has a R.D.!) There’s $10,000.00 at stake here kiddies! Not to mention a trip to Vegas and a free one year membership to the gym!  Oh, and did I mention the supplements, vitamins and the protein drink mix? I have to admit, their products are top notch and organic, and not any more expensive than what I pay at Whole Foods, so I really can’t complain. I didn’t buy into the “detox” program though. I need to keep some sort of toxin in my system! I’m sure I’ll be giving up my lovely Anejo and my Grande Marnier for 90 days!  

 

I think I’ll pretend that I’m in the 4th Ave. Jail and I have a choice of what the dietician says I should eat, or the green bologna that Sheriff Joe hands out. And I couldn’t drink alcohol if I were there, so that should help keep me in line with the nutrition aspect.

As for what the trainer has in store for me, well, I hope it’s worth the loot I put out! He better leave me for dead at the end of each session or I’ll demand my money back!!! You know the old saying “That which does not kill me, I will chase down and eat for dinner!” My trainer’s name is Thomas. He’s young, and I hope not so naive as to let me get away with my plethora of “I didn’t work out because….” excuses. 

My real motive for doing this now is that I have that marathon coming up in January and I really want to gain some muscle and drop about 20 pounds so that I can make the BQ time.

I’ll keep ya’ posted!

 

 

 

BALANCE AND CENTERING: I’LL JUST LIE DOWN FOR A WHILE, THANKS.

The last few weeks have been challenging as far as trying to find my center, my focus, my balance. 

Life gets really messy sometimes.  Whether it’s your own, or someone you care about. 

Just like that beautiful batch of cupcakes you make. They rose perfectly in the oven, uniformly the top edges all meet the cupcake liner and then ever so softly they rise toward the middle like a beautiful sun setting in the west. The icing piped perfectly out of the pastry bag, sharp edges of that sugary goodness contrasting the valleys giving your cupcakes that perfect set of ridges.

At first you don’t really see it. Then it comes into focus. You blink. It happens too fast. Just like in life, your cupcakes get blindsided. They crash to the floor to be lapped up by the dog. As too, the life you are watching is blindsided. That life begins to fall. You can’t catch it, it’s happening too fast and too far away. So you stand by and wait. You hope, you pray, you meditate that the pieces are big enough to put back together. That  the smaller pieces are somehow insignificant enough not to matter. But they do.

So was the life of my auntie the past week. No, she didn’t die. She is very much alive and in as much disrepair as those cupcakes. 

We were to have a family reunion and celebrate her 89th birthday last week end. It was all going well. A nice gathering at an old country park in Joplin. We still had the reunion, minus the guest of honor who was too frightened to be in the same vicinity as three of her children. My aunt has five children including a set of twin boys. They are all in their 60’s. Three of them decided on the Thursday before her birthday that she was living in an “unhealthy” environment. One of them owned the home she lived in. While one of them took her to buy some new clothes and have a manicure, the others went to the utility company and had her utilities turned off. They then took her to an “assisted living” facility and told her this was her “new home”. They also took her vehicle. 

My aunt being the stubborn mule that she is called the police. She’s now living with a friend. But, the life is still in shattered pieces. How does one trust again after the people you have born and raised blindside you in that manner?  And people have the gall to ask me why I never had children?!

And then there’s me. I have always been the self centered, self serving last born only daughter with four brothers. I was born to a mother who had seven brothers and no sisters. I was her pride and joy as well as her “doll baby” to sew clothes for, to dress up in all manner of “girliness”. And I loved every minute of her adoration, as well as the coddling from my brothers and my cousins, not to mention my aunts and uncles. And on top of all of the attention, I was constantly reminded by my aunts “You know sweetheart, we all think the sun rises and sets with you.” Good Lord, is it any wonder I’m a selfish shitjerk? I’m surprised I’m not a raving sociopath. Oh wait, that’s my brother.

Anyway, my point here is this: All of my life it’s been pretty much about me. I was never a “team player” even in sports. I always chose “individual” sports. I was on the Varsity archery team my frosh year in H.S. I was good at it. It was all about me! I tried playing volley ball. Not so good. I kept wanting to serve, set, spike.I didn’t want to share the ball. It didn’t work out so well. Then came running. Then biking. Then Swimming. And here we are at triathlon. Pretty much and individual sport. You either finish, or you don’t. No one to blame but yourself. 

It gets pretty lonely out there on your own. It’s tough being your only friend. Besides, people start staring when you argue with yourself. It really pisses me off when they interrupt! How rude!

Since my shoulder still hasn’t been the same since that Fatty McFatty situation when I injured it at work a month or so ago, I haven’t swam since, and it gets more painful when I ride the bike. Running is still okay. But I feel somewhat unbalanced. Like the tripod that only has one “pod”. 

I realize I’m still isolating myself to a degree. But it’s WAY easier to talk to people (even myself) when I run than on the bike. Or especially swimming. Talking under water was never my strong suit. 

Maybe an endurance team thing would be good. Like the stage races. Or maybe “The Amazing Race”. Any body wanna buddy up?

So, I’m thinking of turning a new leaf. Or baking pies instead of cup cakes!

Don’t worry, I’m still self interested enough to keep you posted.

So, be nice to each other. You never know who you might have to ask for help!