fighting the good fight?

Last night at the gym, I pondered what exactly I was doing there.

Like, I know I'm there to lift weights and or do cardio and or stare at other people while they work out.

But really... Why am I mentally exhausted from a day of psychological gymnastics as a counselor, sweating on an elliptical? Why am I not home, eating ice cream or french fries on the couch watching tv and un w i n d i n g?

The media tells us (men & women) we are "supposed" to look a certain way. Then they airbrush the f^*@ out of the advertisements. When we (i) don't match this, we (i) feel like shit. When celebrities get TOO thin, they are chastised; same as when they gain weight or look like us! Our medical professionals tell us we're "supposed" to be a certain weight or BMI, although most of them won't address it with us unless we ask first. We (i) are being programmed to diet and exercise to look like something we (i)will never be. A skinny, long haired, pouty lipped sex vixen with an airbrushed over bellybutton. And then we (i) get to a thinner *healthier* weight and ruin it because: it is sooooo damn hard to maintain...

My question or rather, my thoughts are taking me someplace else with this one. No one knows my body as well as I do. I am listening to HER and not the rest of the world. Genetics are a big part in this. I am not trying to fight what nature has intended for my body. I am merely practicing good health so that 40 years from now, I'm still alive and kicking. Yeah, my mind was fatigued yesterday but I felt a lot better trying to work it out for a bit.

I could have done more than 25 minutes but I also could have gone home and laid on the couch.

Losing it.

This week I didn't go up or down on the scale. This pleases me. I worked hard but slipped a little here and there (including having alcohol two nights this week out). I also didn't work out as much as I could have. I still have 7.2 lbs to go before I hit my 5% wannabe weight of 165 pounds. By my 26th birthday.

Something that continues to irk me is: how many POINTS food actually is sometimes. For example, on Saturday I was out to the supermarket on my lunch break with my colleague. We decided to splurge on "Fudge Fantasies" (we got the minis) from a local bakery "The Cookie Factory." Welp, before I knew it, we were back in her office, chatting away and I looked at the container. I decided to eat only 4 cookies, after writing down the stats (Calories, fat and fiber) to look up later on. 4 teeny, weeny cookies later and back at my desk I realized that each cookie had 3 points. 3 POINTS. I wasted 12 POINTS, half of my daily food intake on 4 little pieces of crap. Initially, I was kind of pissed off. But I got over it relatively quickly. I ate cookies, wrote down the amount of pointage and went about my day.

12 POINTS is a lot. When I sweat for 30 minutes on a cardio machine, I could potentially earn back 2 POINTS. That would mean I would have to work out 180 minutes OR 3 hours just to touch those cookies. WTF!?!

My dears, we all slip up every now and then. I slipped and tripped and bumped along almost an entire year, hehe. But seriously, I know that I can't beat myself up over 4 cookies. They were delicious, yes. But I know I can get a lot more food in for 12 points (4 cups of whole wheat pasta!?!?!) and be a lot more sassified. And sassification is good!

down down down

Lost another .8 bringing it down to 2 lbs total in the last three weeks.
I am stoked.
I am thrilled.
I am NOT going to ruin this.
I am going to keep writing to you, those who understand my plight (P.S. BigHappyBeautiful: something is wrong with your site, I can't write to you)
I am going to keep tracking my foood/ POINTS.
I am not going to beat myself up if I slip a little.
I am going to continue writing love notes to myself, where I compliment the things I've done RIGHT for the day (went to gym, asked for a doggy bag, made a healthier choice).

What are YOU doing right so far in the new year? I'm interested to know :-)

TWENTYTEN

Today was my first workout of the new year. This morning, I packed my gym bag and my lunch box and headed out to work. After work, I contemplated being "too hungry" to get to the gym but I drove myself down the highway and got off at the exit anyways. I vowed that I wouldn't work out "too hard" because after all, I was feeling hungry and tired after a long day.

I get to the gym locker room to change and lo and behold! I didn't pack a *shirt* to work out in. I had remembered socks, sneakers, bras and spandie (spandex? lycra? cotton?) workout pants. A few weeks ago, I would have determined that the exercise g-ds were "against" me and I should probably head home to lay on the couch and watch Law & Order. The new, slightly improved and higher functioning TWENTYTEN me decided to use the undershirt I wore today as my workout top and kept it moving.

And move it I did. I went on that terrible treadmill and busted out 30 minutes of run/walk/incline/decline goodness.

Even though I felt self-concious about how I looked in spandies and a tank top. Plus, I'm not really even hungry right now.