Duh, Winning

176  lbs. BUT…

Operation Overlord (aka D Day, June 6, 1944 aka the first 20 minutes of “Saving Private Ryan”) did not end World War II. Neither did Midway, Guadalcanal, the Battle of the Bulge or the Battle of Britain. However, combined, they won the war (anybody piping up with Hiroshima or Nagasaki at this point just to be a smartass, shut up. I’m making a point). Let me share some of the victories in my campaign:

-          Lila the yoga teacher keeps calling me “The Incredible Shrinking Woman.”   : )

-          I am wearing a cashmere sweater that has been too small for over 8 years. There’s a little room in it.

-          While the scale number is stuck, strength is manifesting itself in the following ways:

I was able to complete the Half Moon pose (foot on the floor and the hand on the same side as the foot diagonal from it with opposite foot in the air and opposite hand on hip.  See photo) Up until VERY recently, I had to have both hands on the ground.

I don’t have to modify Plank. A back issue of “Self” magazine, Julianne Hough said something about Plank being her favorite core workout. Dawn suddenly broke over Marblehead (meaning, I saw the light) and I’m working Plank with gusto. Those abs are going down.

I didn’t have to stay on one knee for Crescent pose. And the beat-up right knee is holding up.

And as for Dancing Warrior: I lasted 5 times longer than I used to! 5 seconds v. 1. Yeah, it’s going to take a lot of work.

Not so much on the yoga push-up, either. However, the triceps have been getting my attention, as have the obliques.

                I didn’t feel like I was going to die while I was digging around in the storage unit the other day.  I  was moving stuff by myself

I can stand to look at myself in the mirror. Not necessarily naked (still see a big “apron” of fat around the middle that I don’t want to look at), but I can see a jawline and skin tightening up. I will never be mistaken for Michelle Pfeiffer (damn), but I look okay.

A lot of experts will tell you that it’s necessary to love yourself and to have a positive body image in order to improve the shape/condition of your body. I found it extremely difficult to love myself when sedentary and eating without regard to what or how much. The fact that I get antsy if I don’t go work out, take care over what I eat and measure my portions tells me I care more about myself than I did before I started. (By the way, to the “fat activist” who’s a proponent of Health At Every Size: I think it undermines your message of dignity and respect for all if you refer to overweight people as “fatties,” a term used for emotional and verbal abuse).

As I am strengthening the core muscles (think of a cummerbund), I’m finding that the back issues are clearing up, even those up in the shoulders. Tripping, falling, hitting head on sidewalk kind of set me back a week, but progress is still being made.

I’ll have those damned 501s on my butt by the end of January.

My Advice? You Want MY Advice?

178.4 lbs. Two days ago, it was a big WHOO HOOO! Today, it’s old hat.

Due to learning/mastering a new job, I have been off-line. Anybody going through withdrawal symptoms, sorry about that. However, I need to earn money for gym fees and Trader Joe’s runs.

I nearly got kicked in the face during yoga class yesterday. No, the Drip Sisters didn’t return. It was another young woman with the runway poker face (supermodel wannabe). The room was wide open, but she had to set up within “smell my feet” range of my mat (which was already there because I got to class on time). The next non-Susan foot that comes near my face is getting yanked or slapped. I don’t care if it creates a ruckus in class. And yes, we were breathing and stretching to reggae, Pearl Jam and George Harrison again. Anything Beatles makes me smile (unless it’s Cirque du Soleil: I find it creepy and too European. Plus, I don’t pay beaucoup mega big bucks to see anything French Canadian unless it’s wearing black and gold and skating for the Bruins).

I have several friends who are also working on their fitness (and I’ll bet anybody reading this who isn’t working actively to improve fitness has at least 1 friend who is). One was telling me about hitting a plateau and asked me for suggestions for breaking it. Even though this person is a HUGE Looney Tunes fan, I didn’t recommend the Dynamite Diet that I threaten under the circumstances. Rather, I suggested that he vary his exercise routine with something like swimming. I find it amusing that people are asking me what they should do about diet and exercise. To the dipshit in the parking lot who told me I was angry because I was overweight and the discussion board jerkoff who called me a “fat fucking whore” because I could write better than he does: kiss my lily-white ass, you gomers. I’ll bet you’re both still miserable human beings.

Oh, and no, I won’t go swimming myself. It completely undoes my nail polish and I work HARD to put that on and get it right. Even the steam room erodes it. If OPI (What so proudly I hail. Best  nail polish and products in the business) comes up with a waterproof nail polish, I volunteer as a test subject.

The inner thigh flaps are rapidly shrinking. When in Forward Fold (Utinatasana?), I noticed I can see slivers of daylight between my  thighs. This makes me eligible to wear corduroy without risk of starting a fire.

The waist that I thought I saw a few weeks ago is becoming a reality. It’s very shy: I only get a glimpse of it from time to time. However, unlike Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, I WILL prove that it exists.

The arm flaps are slowly tightening up. I blame myself for the slow progress: I should be working my triceps harder than I do. I’m supposed to be developing my push-up ability, which depends on good triceps and chest muscles. Clearly, if I’m referencing this as “supposed to be”, I’m not doing it. Yeah, I know: I said doing a push up was a goal. Annoyed sigh. I’ll work on it; stop nagging.

When I get to the 50 lbs. down mark (174.6 lbs, or 3.8 lbs. from where I am now), I will get measured again. Until, then, I’ll just keeping trying on those size 12 jeans to see if I’m getting closer to successfully zipping them.

Another aspect I’m really enjoying with respect to this is watching my BMI drop.  It has gone from 35.4 to 27.9. Granted, I will be eligible for group medical insurance through my job, but if I have to buy my own insurance, I know from ugly experience that the first thing a company asks you is how much you weigh and your activity level. And then, the computer turns you down if it doesn’t like the answer. Who needs an actual exam and a blood chemistry panel when you have an algorithm? Suck it, United Health Care, Blue Cross and Aetna.

The necessity to measure and record everything I put in my mouth has had a couple of unintended benefits: 1) it does make me more mindful of what and how much I’m eating. My Net Diary essentially imposes a budget of calories and although exercises allows it to be stretched, it’s not a blank check. I’m striving to hit certain nutritional markers (daily recommendations of fiber, calcium, fats, protein, etc.) and there’s not much room for things like ice cream or a cheeseburger. 2) Cravings for things like chocolate and cheeseburgers have largely died. Partly because I’ve corrected whatever part of my brain demanded them and partly because I don’t want to blow out my calorie budget for the day with one snack (Whoever at McDonalds or Burger King thought to market their products as “snacks” is probably some evil little skinny vegetarian marketing drone (which makes him evil anyway) who, like a scientist in a bad 1950s sci fi movie, has vowed to destroy humanity) and 3) I’ve been cash strapped lately and being mindful about what I’m eating and how much has allowed me to stretch out my food supply rather than the panicked gobbling I used to do when faced with a money/food shortage.

I’m heading into this holiday weekend with reason to celebrate. I doubt I’ll wake up nearly 4 pounds lighter tomorrow morning (but that would be SWEET!), but I’m in a lot better shape than I was on the Fourth last year. And I’ll be taking the pictures to prove it.

I Downward Dog Dare You

187.8 lbs. Where’s that dynamite? I was THIS CLOSE to 184.6 (40 down) and I will not be denied.

You can tell a woman is not serious about her upcoming workout when she arrives at the gym wearing as much makeup as a toddler beauty pageant contestant. Today, I saw such a woman.

Checking my diary entries from the last time I had a spike plus plateau combination, it took a day or two for things to get back on track.

Don’t tell Torquemada, but I’m cheating today: I only did yoga, no hour of cardio. HA!

Since tomorrow’s going to be another monster weight training day, I figured I could slack a little bit. Only  a little bit. Part of it was a number of errands that needed to be done, part was an experiment. I’ve been frustrated with my lack of balance. I don’t expect to pass for a Cirque du Soleil performer, but I would like to see or feel a difference, you know?

Tuesday’s class, Lila had us to a shoulder stand. If you’re a kid and goofing around on the lawn with your sisters or friends, this is the one where you’re on your back and you bring your legs up and over your head, so basically, you’re ass over teakettle with your feet on the ground over your head, but since you’re 9 years old and hopped up on Kool Aid, it’s hilarious.

Not so much when you’re closing on 50. Doing it the yoga way, I couldn’t get my legs over my head. Before class started today, I thought I’d give it a shot the old fashioned way: just whip my legs over my head. I’m here to tell you that I didn’t harm myself and I could get my legs back there. I will not be doing it again though, because due to the presence of the Great White Belly and the White Mountains, I nearly suffocated. Oh sure, you don’t think about it when you’re sitting upright, but when you bop yourself in the face with your own tits and belly…

You get the idea.

There was some progress, though. My shoulders still get tired with holding arms up and/or out, but it takes a bit longer. My upper back rebels against sitting up straight for too long, but the time period before I feel the muscles start to complain is getting longer. I was told I have nice looking legs (not by a guy. They don’t notice. I am invisible to the masculine eye). All the cardio and leg presses are paying off. If only GWB would shape up as quickly…

When we got to the sun salutation, there was the transition from Downward Dog to Plank and then the option of going back to Downward Dog (which is hands in front of you, butt in the air and trying to get your feet flat on the floor. If you can do that, you are quite stretched and flexible) to Plank (which is hands under shoulder and a long sloping line from your head back to your feet, butt below rib cage) and then there are two roads back to Downward Dog: either go directly to it by pushing back (do not pass Go, do not collect $200) or do the vinyasa: from Plank, do a push-up, then bend into Cobra (legs straight out behind you on the floor, back is arched and arms/hands pushing torso off the floor). No belly flopping allowed and Lila has pre-emptively told me to take the modification and just go straight to Down Dog from Plank. Now, I THOUGHT that it was necessary to go all the way down to the floor on the move from Plank to Cobra. HOWEVER, I saw Lila do one and she only went halfway down. HA! I CAN DO THAT! I CAN GO HALFWAY DOWN ON A PUSHUP! (Don’t expect me to come back up; it ain’t happenin’) So, as we got to the right point in the next Sun Salutation, (drumroll, if you please) I TOOK THE VINYASA. You should have seen the look on Lila’s face when she saw me in Cobra. The push up was not graceful and pretty, but damn it, I got it done. Yeah, Boy! And Lila told me it was magnificent. That made up for damned near offing myself with a boob up the nose (Seriously, I know we all have to go some time, but I’d prefer not to end up as a Darwin Award).

Without the hour of cardio before class (I usually give myself about 15 minutes in between cardio and yoga), I actually could hold a Tree Pose (before class) without a lot of shaking. It was a brief, shining moment, but I could hold it and hold it steady. Part of the issue with balance is the need for an extra mat under my yoga mat. With the screwed up kneecap, I need to put padding between it and the floor. Not so good for staying steady on one foot. On the bare floor, I did all right. It’ll come, I keep telling myself.

Chair Pose (or Fierce) aka the Methane Torpedo Tube was a bit easier. I pushed myself to go a little lower in the squat (butt clenched against disturbing the tranquil atmosphere. Never eat Mexican before yoga). My shoulders gave up before the core and leg muscles did. This is an improvement. I’ll take it.

I feel a bit restless for not having pounded out an hour on the elliptical or Rotating Staircase of Death or the treadmill and that’s okay.  For future reference, do the exercises requiring strength before you’ve exhausted your muscles with cardio. That may seem like common sense, but I tend to learn things the hard way.

Like it’s better to keep your nose above your boobs.

Progress By The Numbers

188.4 lbs. Still in shock over the 5 lb. drop. However, it was real.

Okay, Number Geeks, this is how things measure up so far:

Measurement	January 31, 2011	May 18, 2011
Weight	224.6 lbs.	188.4 lbs.
BMI	35.2 %	29.5 %
Neck	17.3”	16.75”
Chest	56.7”	45.5”
Waist	51.2”	44.5”
Hips	47.6”	46.5”

I’d like to have seen more progress with the waist and the hips, but that’s The Great White Belly and while it’s going down, it’s not without a fight.