Day 47: On crying during exercise.

I've been frustrated recently because it seems to me that I am not making progress with my weight loss. For awhile I was stagnant, and then I started tracking my food intake and lost a few pounds. But then I was right back to the plateau - way earlier than I should have hit it, in my opinion. I couldn't understand it - I was doing all the right things. Stopped eating out of habit. Stopped binging on sugar. Slowed down on my carbohydrate intake, and increased my protein. Exercised at least twice a week, usually 3-4 times (compared with exactly zero times a week for the better part of the last 5 years). And these weren't puny little workouts either. I left with my legs feeling like jelly every time. It was a crapshoot whether or not I'd be able to lift my arms the next day. (Presently, I cannot.)

So, I did what many of you nice folks suggested. I spoke with my trainer and - what do you know? We figured something out.

Apparently, my activity level was set to "superhero" / "full-time athlete" / "lumberjack" / "American Ninja Warrior."

And, apparently, I am none of these things.

I had been feeling pretty good about my intake. I was tracking, eating yummy food, exercising, and not feeling too terribly hungry. So, imagine my surprise when my trainer suggested that my calorie intake could be cut by a quarter. Twenty-five percent. I had been expressing my frustration while doing some TRX rows and I started to tear up. Irrespective of the fact that it makes literally no sense to work out and cry at the same time, the tears were still there. Did the trainer notice? Maybe. Probably. He was perfectly matter-of-fact about the whole thing, which really made me tear up even more. One thing I love about this studio is that all the trainers and I have gotten to know each other really well and they are all SO supportive, even when I feel like a hippo trying to dance ballet sometimes. Later, in the office as we looked at my intake profile, I wanted to cry again. "I'm going to be starving all the time!" I said. 

But, I've done this before and I can do it again. This time, rather than just being ok with being hungry, or eventually getting fed up and stuffing my face with sea salt caramels (which is what I would have done in days gone by) I want to work to find higher-protein snacks and eat more vegetables.

So, I changed my calorie goal in this silly little app. Have I seen any changes yet? Well, I'm starving every day. So apparently I need to do more work on the protein and vegetable front. I have dropped a little weight, but not enough to go shouting it from the rooftops quite yet. 

But, the commitment is still there and I am hopeful. Now, I need to keep dancing so that I can reach the first round of goals I set for myself 47 days ago. 

Dear Grandmother

I am sure that anyone who's been following along with my blog over the last 7 weeks or so has gotten the impression that this is a weight-loss and fitness blog. That's my fault. The intent of my collecting my thoughts and putting them to print is to really help me be mindful and conscious in my life. Weight loss and exercise have, understandably, been at the forefront of my consciousness and so that's what I've been writing about. I say this by way of explanation for what comes next: an entry that is decidedly not related to weight loss or exercise. I'll be back with my typical rantings later in the week. 

Dear Grandmother,

Happy 85th Birthday!

So much has happened in the last year. The baby is not such a baby anymore. She's walking, and talking, and giving us a run for our money. The big girl is in preschool. She is bright and sassy and beautiful and difficult and perfect. They love each other so much. It has been hard, just like you said it would be, but it's getting a little easier. 

I'm working for myself, doing what I love, and I am appreciated every day for what I do. 

The hubby is doing great things and is just the perfect guy for me and our girls. 

Mom and Dad moved out to the east coast just like they said they would. It was hard to leave all they've known, but they just light up when they get to spend time with the girls - and the girls do, too. 

The kids know your name. Our big girl even talks about you sometimes. She remembers when we flew to Kansas City to surprise you and Dad for your birthdays last year. She remembers going to see you in your apartment. She asks questions about where you live, if you came with Mom and Dad to live here, and if we can go visit you. That's a tough one, Grandma. I just don't know how to answer a 3-year-old when she asks questions like that. 

Not a day goes by that I don't think of standing in the supermarket with the girls, listening to my mom's message that you weren't going to make it. You were always so healthy and strong. You always took such good care of yourself. I just couldn't believe that the cough you had developed was going to end your life. 

I talked to the nurses that day. They told me you made a decision and stuck to it. You were gone that evening and it was just a shock to me. I wrote the eulogy for your funeral, but I made the officiant read it. It's nearly a year later and I still can't look at it without losing my composure. 

With all that was going on in my life, I never truly got a chance to process the loss that I felt. My kids provided a shelter from feeling the grief that I needed to feel. They still needed care, and my focus was always on them. Today they are out of the house and I am alone and taking the time to feel all those feelings that have been bubbling up for almost a year. 

I still feel connected to you, Grandma, and I want you to know that I will keep your spirit alive by showing our babies pictures of you and telling them stories of your cooking, and your rules, and your toilets that I couldn't flush because there was only a limited supply of well water. 

And I will continue to think of you every week around Valentine's Day. We will miss seeing your cards come in the mail, but we will feel your love. 

I miss you. 

Love,

Nicci

Day 37: Seriously?!

In case it wasn't clear from the title, I am frustrated. More hard work - and I mean hard work. More diligence with monitoring my food intake (and optimizing it when I have the energy). Three days this week that ended with a significant calorie deficit. Getting in my scheduled workouts and more, despite 2 sicknesses and 6 feet of snow. 

And yet the scale stays the same. 

What gives?

I'd like to say I feel better, but since I'm sick for the second time in less than a month I can't. I'd like to say I'm happier and feel more balanced, but that's not true either. Right now I just feel like I'm busting my ass for not much return. 

Maybe, if my personal trainer were to measure my hips or chest or waist, I would see a difference in inches. I don't know. What I do know is that, after over a month of exercising and eating diligently, I expected more from myself. 

I'm feeling pretty demotivated right now. 

Tell me some happy stories! I need to know that I'll come out the other side a happier and healthy mama.