(Reminder to self: everything you write does not have to aim for the meaningful or profound. You're not composing Hamlet. This is a health/weight loss journal. Just write what you are doing. At this stage, doing anything--no matter how feeble--is better than not doing anything at all).
Went to the gym this morning and walked for 30 minutes on
the treadmill after a 10 minute warm-up on the recumbent bike. The older I get,
the more powerful the need to get everything loosened up before attempting any
exercise. I used to hate warming up--seemed like a total waste of time. Now, my tissues, sinews and joints thank me for it.
This makes the third consecutive week I’ve set foot in my gym—progress.
This makes the third consecutive week I’ve set foot in my gym—progress.
Have an appointment this afternoon with the fitness manager
at a local health club (different gym, across town) for a fitness program
prescribed by one of my therapists through a local hospital program. It includes weekly training sessions and an exercise
plan, which I’m really looking forward to utilizing. Have been feeling lost when I look at the
machines this time back. I’ve forgotten how to plan workouts, and what I used
to be able to do and what I am able to do now are very different things anyway. Last thing I need is to push too hard or get
hurt. At the same time, taking things slowly is so hard when you’ve set your
mind to something and are ready to go blue blazes at it.
Starting over sucks. Four years ago this week I could walk 3 miles in under 45 minutes, and row 1000 meters in less than 5 minutes (in the middle of a workout). I could do an hour of Zumba followed by an hour of yoga. I could bench press 100 pounds and leg press 460 lbs. I worked out hard with a trainer once a week, walked a 5 mile trail once a week, and was doing something active, mostly at the gym, 6 days a week. Physically, I felt fantastic, like a total bad-ass, and felt that nothing could stop me. Mentally, I was a wreck, and had stated binging again, and was terrified of going back to the physical space I'd occupied before.
Which I did. So much anguish over that, but I think I've forgiven myself and am able to move on, or that is, start from scratch again. If I hadn't let go of some of that shame, I never would have been able to darken my gym's door again.
Starting over sucks. Four years ago this week I could walk 3 miles in under 45 minutes, and row 1000 meters in less than 5 minutes (in the middle of a workout). I could do an hour of Zumba followed by an hour of yoga. I could bench press 100 pounds and leg press 460 lbs. I worked out hard with a trainer once a week, walked a 5 mile trail once a week, and was doing something active, mostly at the gym, 6 days a week. Physically, I felt fantastic, like a total bad-ass, and felt that nothing could stop me. Mentally, I was a wreck, and had stated binging again, and was terrified of going back to the physical space I'd occupied before.
Which I did. So much anguish over that, but I think I've forgiven myself and am able to move on, or that is, start from scratch again. If I hadn't let go of some of that shame, I never would have been able to darken my gym's door again.
Still eating more than I should but not binging. Really upped my vegetable intake last week. Made my meal plan over the weekend and cooked roasted
chicken for lunch salads—and then went out to lunch with a friend instead (had
salad and flatbread pizza, so it could have been worse). At least I have lunch in the work fridge for
tomorrow, and maintaining relationships is an important area of health growth
for me too (it wasn’t spur of the moment—she asked me Friday afternoon and I
just forgot that I had promised). London
broil is marinating in the fridge to grill for dinner, with sweet potato and
steamed mixed vegetables—good for several meals.
Need to get more sleep.
That's all for now.
That's all for now.
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