Doing it wrong.

So, what's that definition of insanity that everyone always says? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? Yeah I think that means I'm insane. Every time I try to eat healthy and exercise (read: lose weight) this same thing always happens. I start a walking regimen and soon after end up with ridiculous shin splints. Then I lay off for a few weeks or months, then start the same process over again. Umm...hello?? What is wrong with me? Use your brain, Jamie...sheesh.

As I sit here with a bottle of ibuprofen and double ice packs on my shins, I am being hit with a moment of clarity... This isn't working!! It's an Oprah "ah-ha moment" for sure. I am not just your typical chubby girl who needs to just eat less and get off her ass more and then she'll lose weight. I have problems. I have injuries. Even though walking at the park shouldn't be that big of a deal for anyone, I need to chill out and start slower.

Having the world's tightest calves + walking fast at the park = shin splints

Every time. It's a rule. It's math.

I joke around a lot and say that I'm less flexible than my 87 year old grandma, but it's REALLY true. Gram can throw a leg up straight to her head...I've seen her do it. I can't even touch my toes without bending my knees. So, I need to change things up. I'm not going to just jump into my delusional dream of becoming a long distance runner. (LOL-as if!)

As much as I want to lose weight and think that cardio is the way to get that done quickly, I need to instead focus on getting my body to move properly first. If I don't, I'm just going to keep hurting myself and getting nowhere. Long story short, I'm going to dedicate my energy to stretching, rubbing out tight muscles (even though it hurts so damn bad, especially on the calves), and strengthening the muscles that are causing me to walk funny, have bad posture, and be in pain all the time. Basically, I'm going to do at-home physical therapy on myself (and maybe go back to real physical therapy, too).

I should have probably realized that half of the park being closed today for a car show was a sign...that I'm not ready to be walking! I was pissed that it was closed, but now I'm thankful I only walked three quarters of a mile. I probably wouldn't even be able to walk at all right now if I went the whole way. Time to get into yoga! ;)

[ j. ]

How many times do I have to write this same post?

I'm trying to lose weight... again. And I hate it... again. I've been doing okay at sticking with it this time. I work out 5 times a week (nothing extreme or intense really...just at home calisthenics) and I track my calories on an app on my phone. I get 1500 calories a day. Until I really started tracking my calories, I thought that I didn't eat thaaaat bad. Well, obviously I was wrong. It is SO FLIPPIN' HARD to stay under 1500 calories a day! No wonder I'm such a fatass... it's because I pig out all the time! I figured I ate pretty well. I rarely had fast food. I don't eat any meat other than fish. I love veggies and tofu and other "health foods." But crap, that stuff has a lot of calories! And my portions...ohhhh the portions! My boyfriend and I joke all the time that "I love a restaurant with big portions!" but geeeeeez. I must have been eating 2500-3000 calories a day, easily.

So, now that I'm only eating 1500, I want to die. I already feel like I'm dying. And I haven't even  started a gym routine yet, because that's usually what makes me quit. I figured I'd really work on my diet first and then go from there... but this is the hardest part!! I have never been so depressed for no reason before. I'm honestly considering going to the doctor to see what's wrong with me...or at least getting some mood-altering meds. I thought eating right and exercising was supposed to make you feel good and give you energy? Instead I feel like my life isn't worth living if I don't get to have sandwiches and cheese and BBQ sauce on everything and ice cream! Oh sweet mercy how I wish I could have some ice cream!! 

And possibly the worst part about all of this is that by eating 1500 calories a day, I'm only set up to lose about a pound a week. But I need to lose 60 pounds! That means I have to hate my life and be miserable like this for 60 weeks?!?! That's over a year! There's no way. There's just absolutely no freaking way. And then what happens if (by some miracle) I do reach my goal? What then? I'm just supposed to keep on eating carrots, air and positive thoughts for the rest of my life? I've been doing this since March 26th (the Monday after my 29th birthday) and I've only lost about 3 pounds. THREE. I have been doing this for two weeks and two days. Sure, I guess that puts me slightly ahead of my 1 pound per week goal... but this has been the most tortuous two weeks and two days ever. The first week I lost almost 5 pounds, but it must have just been water or I took an amazing dump or something. Then I gained almost all of it back, and it absolutely crushed me. My stomach is constantly hurting. I'm never satisfied. I'm having constant stabbing hunger pains and indigestion. I've been popping the Tums like they're going out of style. They say weightloss needs to be a "lifestyle change" but if this is what my life has to be like from now on...I'd rather be fat. No wonder skinny chicks are such bitches. They're starving all the time!!

My sweet, loving, supportive boyfriend, Blake keeps telling me how strong I am and to just keep going. But I don't feel strong. I feel very, very weak. I feel like I'm going to break. At any given moment I will burst into tears (and have done so a few times already...including on the way home from a very depressing and unsatisfying trip to Outback Steakhouse). And frankly, it kind of sucks to hear "you're doing a great job!" and "just keep going!" from someone who is going to town on giant bowl of soft serve or a mound of cheese fries. It just isn't fair.

I really don't think I'm ever going to be able to do this. I'm going to break. I just am. I honestly feel like I'm just white knuckling it like a crack addict trying to stay off the pipe. I'm definitely going to have a psychotic break down and eat a dozen bagels with cream cheese in my sleep or something. And speaking of sleep... I get so hungry in the evenings that I've resorted to taking over-the-counter sleep aids at like 8 or 9 at night just to knock myself out so I don't have to feel the pain of being hungry anymore. (And also the muscle pain that I have from just the simplest at-home workout activities like squats, sit-ups, and jumping jacks. I'm so pathetic.)

Maybe, just maaaaaayyyybe, I'll change my tune once the weight starts flying off my body. If it ever does. But right now, three f*cking pounds just isn't enough to make this worth it. I see absolutely zero change in my body. If anything, I think I look bigger in some places. I'm mean, bitchy, tired, lifeless, unhappy, and depressed. FML. Seriously. Anyone who has never done this before has no clue how hard it is.

[ j. ]

Weightloss: Dream or Nightmare?

Well, it's my first post of the new year... 20 days into it already. Oops. My last post was about weight and trying to lose weight again. And again, I stopped trying. After I write this post, I am going to re-read the last one so that I regain some motivation (hopefully). I'm in an incredibly melancholy mood tonight, so I might as well write a little bit to let it all out.

I'm sick of being overweight, but I came to a startling realization about it tonight: I'm afraid to lose weight. Sometimes you want something for so long, the idea of what life would be like after you achieve it seems terrifying. My whole life has revolved around being the fat girl. The idea of being able to let that go makes me scared to death. It's part of who I am. I hate it--don't get me wrong! I hate being "the fat one." But if I'm not that anymore... what am I? It's such a weird realization. I think it might be another element that holds me back from really attempting to lose the weight. And I know I'm probably digging into some deep psychological shit right now, but I really think it has something to do with it. Deep down, and I mean DEEEEEP down, I don't want to lose weight.

If I lost weight and felt happy about how I looked, what would I have to complain about? What would I have to look forward to? To dream about one day being? I have felt ugly and inadequate and less than all my attractive friends for so long that the idea of being just as good as everyone else makes me want to cry... and not happy tears. Which is opposite of what I would expect. In a weird way, I think I've convinced myself that having to be "the fat one" somehow does make me better than others. It makes me try harder and compensate in other ways to prove to people that I'm better than the pretty girls because I'm not pretty. I'm smart, I'm nice, I'm talented, I'm interesting, I'm funny... I'm not just a pretty face and body. I'm not a bimbo. I'm not shallow. I'm better than them...

But I'm really not. I judge skinny people. I judge them and I hate them because they have what I've always wanted. They get all their dreams to come true because they're attractive. And only because they're attractive. They get to meet their dream man, fall in love, have an extravagant wedding in the perfect wedding dress. They get to have children and live happily ever after only because they're pretty and skinny. And I don't only because I'm fat and ugly. Intellectually I know this isn't (always) true. But in my mind (again--to make myself feel less inadequate) skinny people don't have anything else to offer other than being beautiful. All they have is their beauty and society loves them for it. So I have to be amazing and perfect in every single other way because the only thing society wants from me and will like me for... I don't have.

I know there are millions of perfect looking women who are also smart, funny, talented, nice and interesting. But it really depresses me. Because how can I possibly find happiness if they exist in the world? No one will ever want to be with me if there are so many better options out there. So I have to think that I really am the one that's better. Society is wrong, and I'm the type of woman that men should fall over because I'm not pretty and because of that, I am everything else.

So, to become skinny scares me. It means I'm shallow because I care about my looks. It means I can no longer be "anti" beauty and being thin and all the negative connotations I have chosen to associate with it. In essence... I would become what I hate most in this world. I would become my own arch nemesis. To call this a lifestyle change would be an understatement. It would be a complete overhaul of my entire way of thinking, living, and feeling.

I really do hope that I get over all these mental hang ups and can find a way to lose weight. I have a feeling that it will be a much more emotional process than I originally thought. I see a lot of sobbing and breaking down in my future. And hopefully, a lot of letting go.

[ j. ]