I always start these things apologizing for not writing in a while, but honestly, people who read them either know me and know what I’ve been up to… or don’t know me and likely aren’t waiting with baited breath for the next installment of my life, so either way it’s a little silly.
The update since my last post is that I wimped out on both of my 13.1 that I’d signed up for. I’ve said it before dead last > did not finish > did not start. There are few things more embarrassing to me than committing to something and not even stepping over the starting line. There are several reasons for my DNS including sore ankles (sometimes I which I had cankles, then I might not roll them quite so easily) the cold from hell settling in my chest so that a deep breath = a coughing fit, but it really all comes down to excuses. And since this is the one place where I don’t let myself get away with that, we’ll settle for truth. I pulled another pill-bug, and in my self-pity/depression spiral, didn’t got off my butt to train. As discussed before, I can do ANYTHING that I train for. And when I don’t train I just don’t get as much done. My husband actually asked me not to do the races, because he was worried that I would collapse along the way. I don’t believe that I would have, but my self-esteem has been low enough that instead of pushing back I caved.
I’ve decided on a brand new tactic on getting rid of the excuses as well as my butt, and my current plan is to blog it here, since I find it therapeutic, but thought I’d explain how some of the decision came together before getting to what the decision is. And just so you know, if I don’t share as much as I’d like, it’s not because I haven’t written at least a blog a day in my head… it’s because I have a lot of work ahead of me to get fit, so I’m hoping to have less PC time.
A couple of weeks ago for work, I had to travel to Miami. I could go into how my job has changed and why I was there and blah blah, but it doesn’t really relate to my story. I was hosting my spokesperson and a reporter, as well as meeting with spokespeople from our customer company, so a total of 6 of us spent around 5 hours together touring the customer’s facility and checking out their technology, and one of the guys from the other company winked at me a few times. That night at dinner I made a comment to my exec that he was a winker… and she said he didn’t wink at HER at all, so he was probably hitting on me. I always assume that the reason it doesn’t occur to me that someone could be hitting on me is the fact that I’ve spent the last 20 years with the same guy, but my next thought confirmed for me that it goes a little deeper. When I realized that there was a moment when his hand lingered on my arm, so he could have been hitting on me, my first thought was, “Gee, he didn’t seem like he’d be a chubby chaser.”
I can’t imagine another reflexive thought that would better encapsulate my total lack of self-esteem right now than the idea that a successful, attractive man might find ME attractive, than to deny that he would be a chubby chaser. WTF?!
Flash to last week, doing movie night with my son, he picked Pixar’s Wall-E. And all I could think was, if I don’t get off my ass, I’m going to turn into those people on the ship- with no bones or muscles, just fat.
I’d already decided to try a new tactic, the 20/20 Lifestyles program. It’s run through one of the local health clubs, and combines physician supervision with a dietician once a week, trainer 3x/week and even a “lifestyle counselor” aka therapist every other week to get to total weight loss. Depending on how much you have to lose, it can range from crazy expensive to obscenely expensive (hint, I fall in the most $$$ range) and is only covered by insurance for ONE local company who I happen to work for as a vendor… so not a part of their benefits program. But I have had clients who have been successful, and after doing a bunch of research online where I wasn’t able to find any negative reviews, I decided to go for it.
So at the moment, I’ve just met with my doctor, and am waiting to meet with my dietician for the first time. I had my measurements taken last week, and 53.6% of my body is fat. I’m not sure how that happened, and how I got here, but if I ever want to catch up with my kid when he’s running 5k, I have to do something. If I want to hold his babies (I know, he’s not even 9 until this weekend so that’s WAY far away, but I like to plan ahead) then I have to do SOMETHING. And if I refuse to ever, ever have another DNS, I have to do something.
Being here today is my start.