Elephant relativism.

I have always had very good memory.  I remember random things that happened in high school a million years ago, and I'll also remember what everyone was wearing when it happened.  Stored in the deepest recesses of my mind are completely obscure facts about ancient mythology from my years of studying Classics at Concordia University, modern cooking techniques learned by watching far too much Food Network, horticulture for balconies and window boxes via my mother, and strangely almost all of the lyrics to arbitrary songs from the 1990s.  That's how my memory works...like an elephant, I remember things.

So why, oh why, did I forget what it was like to be fat?

Since the crunchy, poppy kneeness of June 2016, I have been eating and drinking myself into my former state of being.  And I seem to have lost all recollection of how difficult it was to be overweight, and dare I admit this, obese.

The last time I was fairly regular with my workouts (other than going to taekwondo class) was in the autumn and winter of 2015.  While visiting family in Montréal, I made arrangements to work out with friends, find a gym, find a yoga studio, and try and counteract the damage I was doing by eating out and drinking daily - and may I add, that I cheated a few times when it came to food on my trip, but I was pretty good about choosing healthy options.  I was something like 170 pounds, and though I was annoyed that my weight had gone up...I remained confident and happy. 

When I got back from Montréal, I started working a lot more regularly, and so I made sure to hit the gym before my shifts.  At that point, I had joined the "5AM Club," and I managed to do at least an hour of cardio before getting gussied up to work the floor as a painter of faces.  After Christmas break, I was off to Hawaii - I had gained a further 10 pounds, but it wasn't the end of the world, and there would be walking, exploring, hiking, swimming etc.  Not to worry.  Still content with life, I was in Hawaii, and there were all kinds of bodies out and about.  Not at all concerned about my "beach body," I was just thrilled to hit the poke bars and body surf at Magic Sands daily.  Good times.

1 definition of relativism

1. a theory that knowledge is relative to the limited nature of the mind and the conditions of knowing    

So what is elephant relativism?!  The further away I am from a state of being, the less I remember what it was like to live that way.  Which can be blissful or incredibly difficult.  The problem (and elephant part) is, recently my memory has been jogged...the first time I have jogged in 2017, in fact.

Things I forgot about being obese:

• Always waking up in the wet spot (from night sweats, get your mind out of the gutter)
• Shaving various parts of your body involves rigorous effort and training in contortion
• Sometimes towels don't fit
• Getting yourself into a bra is an intricate mix of origami and optimism (and you still get double boob, side boob, under boob)
• Dress code is always back, with a generous helping of loose and leggings
• Being overly effected by anxiety and depression  
• Low self esteem and a lack of confidence
• The cycle of binge eating
• Hopelessness

 

Wow, that turned pretty serious pretty fast.  But, right now, it's how I feel.  I am a hopeless, binge eating 250 pound woman who is again suffering from anxiety and depression which is leading to a lack of confidence and self esteem.  I have 3 outfits, none of which I like.  I would like to take off an article of clothing without being marked by it, and I would also like to sweat at appropriate times.  Don't worry, I also remember other things... 

Things I remember about being fit:

• Hitting the gym in the morning before I had a chance to think about it or change my mind, and then sometimes doubling up at night
• Getting an endorphin rush part way into my workout and really enjoying the process 
• Constantly being sweaty (whether at the gym or on the dance floor)
• Drinking insane amounts of water and being satisfied by smaller portions or healthy foods
• There will always be boob origami (when they are smaller they still need to be folded into shape), it's a process
• Being able to express myself through my outfits
• Endless energy to do things
• Feeling that there are no obstacles that cannot be overcome
• Realisation of goals
• Positivity

It's pretty obvious which state of being is my preferred truth.  Though not necessarily mutually exclusive whilst experiencing the in-between, the latter is a much better option for which to strive.  Going forward, I will mindfully go through the process of transforming myself so as not to lose track of where I came from and where I want to go.  Ideally, be more like an elephant in mind, to be less like one in body.

Ask me why I haven't been blogging lately...

lack·a·dai·si·cal

adjective \ˌla-kə-ˈdā-zi-kəl\

Definition of LACKADAISICAL

 : lacking life, spirit, or zest : languid

— lack·a·dai·si·cal·ly adverb

See lackadaisical defined for English-language learners »

See lackadaisical defined for kids »

Examples of LACKADAISICAL

1. His teachers did not approve of his lackadaisical approach to homework.
2. <feeling particularly lackadaisical in the summer heat, they lazily tossed a ball back and forth>

It's time to quit drinking water and put on the garbage bags...as I can't fit into my Catwoman costume anymore.

No, not really, I just need to workout really hard a couple times in the hottest place ever...oh good, my membership is at the Crystal Pool & Fitness Centre.  Actually, I think that's part of my success...I must remember to write Josh a thank you note.

Having only lost 3.7 pounds this week putting me at exactly 48.5 pounds lost in total, I knew I was going to have to sweat...so the ninja worked me out in the AM, and then I skipped the Crystal Fools on Wednesday night so that I could sweat it out on the elliptical.  I clicked the machine up to the highest incline and highest tension that I have ever gone and then gave 'er for an hour...and I forgot my water bottle in the car, so I only drank limited amounts from the fountain.  Am I the only one who finds that difficult to do?  Haha...I seem to take in more air than water.

Went home after and had a salad with no salt in the dressing and went straight to bed, nothing like an official weigh-in to make you work out like a crazy woman, eat some grass, and go to sleep early so that the next day comes faster.     

Morning of the PISE weigh-in and I'm resorting to clever tactics like dehydrating myself by working out and not drinking water and eating veggies with no salt...brilliant.  I promise, I don't do this every weigh-in, just this one.

And on this occasion...I actually weighed my clothes. 

It would be easy to just say that my weigh-in didn't go according to plan because of my 3 pounds of underwear, but that would be a cop-out, because much to my surprise, my clothes weren't that heavy.  Yvette, one of last year's participants in the Times Colonist Health Challenge, suggested that I get Holly from PISE to move the scale into the bathroom if things don't go according to plan...and then I could undress and weigh-in nekkid in the stall while she read the numbers poking out from underneath the door.  Yvette has done this...which makes me smile, and think, ah, she too knows the secrets.  Or, I could just not eat breakfast until after weigh-in.

Off to the Pacific Institute for Sport Excellence starving all the way...and only 30 minutes to wait until my appointment.  Curses for being so early!  I can't wait to see my results...I know that I have lost a significant amount of weight, and I'm positive that my measurements will be much improved as well.  So I have a certain spring in my step when Holly comes to fetch me...yes, I am very thin and powerful in my new body...and what the hell are these real athletes doing here being weighed-in and having their measurements taken as well?  And can they take their shirts off?  OMG...they did!  What else can I think into actuality?  I want millions of dollars!  Okay, maybe I'm not thin and powerful...maybe I'm still curvy and a character...but what are you going to do?  After a quick change into a very thin, very light tank top, I stepped onto the scale and weighed in at exactly 52.4 pounds less than when I started this challenge.

In the last few years, I have become quite the "high-fiver."  I'm not sure Holly was ready for it when I gave her a rather enthusiastic slap on the hand...I nearly hugged her, but as I'm more of a kisser than a hugger, safer to leave it at high five.  Best not to freak out the person pinching you with calipers.  I went through the rest of the testing, and learned that I had lost 39.9 centimetres!

Pleased as punch, that's me.

Weigh-in Wednesday # 9

What happens when you get your period, and then there's Saint Patrick's Day, and they coincide in the same week, and your weight loss for the previous weigh-in Wednesday was -0.6 pounds?  

The McGillicuddys @ Lucky Bar, Victoria, BC

And then the weather is disagreeable on Wednesday, and you really want to go to the Crystal Fools Run/Walking Clinic but the elements are too formidable...and your best friend is coming from Montreal and you really want to be good, but you also want your loft to be immaculate and even though she's known you for 13 years...you still want to impress?

Well, you concede to working out for 2 hours instead of the 3 on which you intended.

This is my life now...apparently 2 hours split between morning and evening is not enough.  The ninja insists that I work out twice a day, which I have done, but this week I've been working out for longer in the morning, and then again in the evening...if I can.  So when I skipped the walking clinic on hump day.  I knew I'd be in for some "missing a workout guilt."

Not that cleaning the house isn't cardio...because it is...but it's hard to justify sweating to the sounds of AC/DC and Black Flag (I don't know why I clean the house to such music, but I do) whilst doing the laundry and dusting the coffee table.  If I'm not at the Crystal Pool & Fitness Centre sweating, I feel penitent.  I'm not religious, but dear gods!

Starting weight:  292.1
1st weigh-in:  286.8
2nd weigh-in:  280.1
3rd weigh-in:  276.4
4th weigh-in:  274.1
5th weigh-in:  270.6
6th weigh-in:  266.2
7th weigh-in:  262
8th weigh-in:  261.4

9th weigh-in:  257.7

Weigh-in Wednesday number 9...FRAK!  Is it 9 already?  STRESS...does this mean I only have my ninja for 3 more weeks?  Must figure out way to keep up with the training after this Times Colonist Health Challenge is over.  And also, YES!  I lost 3.7 pounds...wish it were more, but what can you do.  I would pray to St. Patrick, but I'm not a Catholic, nor do I think he would save me, in fact, I think he prevented me from losing more.  Damn you, delicious Guinness, but thank you for giving the world the most amazing stout in the universe.

So, as I weighed-in and lost weight, Victoria decided to rain, sleet, and hail on Wednesday, and I helped Stéffi clean the house and anticipated Del (The Oracle Delfine's) arrival.

"We all judge. That's our hobby. Some people do arts and crafts; we judge."

Stanford: Before I tell you, you have to promise not to judge.
Carrie: Do I judge?
Stanford: We all judge. That's our hobby. Some people do arts and crafts; we judge.

The more yoga I do, the more enlightened I become, the less I judge.  Would but that were true, but I have to admit to being a bit opinionated.  My friends and I constantly give each other "boyfriends."  We also point out style mistakes, nous sommes aussi les fashion police.  That is all part of my cardio.  However, I also frequently prosecute myself...every time I put on clothes, go for a workout, or eat something...I am constantly in my head judging myself.

This is not a healthy practice.

 

Tonight's yoga session (Taryn's fabulous Tuesday night yoga for recovery @ MokSana focused on Prajnaparadha (noun, Sanskrit) - "Crimes against Wisdom" or deliberate, willful indulgence in unhealthy practices that lead to unbalanced body functions and disease.  Particularly poignant for people in recovery, but also relevant for all of us who energeticaly indulge in negative thought patterns.

Today, I also attended an information session at The Eating Disorders Programme (South Vancouver Island) which really made me think I should have contacted them ages ago, but such is life, hindsight is 20/20.  It embarrasses me to admit that before this challenge, I was a huge (pun intended) binge eater.  It was uncontrollable, I would restrict my eating until after work and then I would get so much junk food and just eat my way through it until the soda was gone, the chips were departed, the mac and cheese was decimated, and the full meal deals were annihilated.  I can't believe I don't have scurvy...I should with my former eating patterns. 

So what did I learn today?  Well, several things.  

This particular Tuesday was the day after the day after St. Patrick's day, so the first thing I learned was that after Sunday's revelry, it was good to get back to my routine of working out both morning and night.  I started today with cardio (treadmill and elliptical), had a bit of a rest and then worked out with Jonathan.  Tuesdays normally mean running stairs, but the ninja switched it up and I did a couple exercises on the Kinesis machine mixed with a rotation of step-ups.  And, I think I'm getting better at lunges amongst other things...yes!  Maybe that's why the ninja was more chatty?  Haha...whatever it was, I'll take it.  Personal training and make-up art are very different fields indeed.  My MAC friends will appreciate this, I have been "style-stepping" my ass off, quite literally!

After a quick blog and some food...I also learned that my walk is still slower than I would like it to be, but I still walked 2.5 kilometers in the winter chill in less time that I thought it would take.  I had no idea that Victoria was so walkable.  

When I got to my destination, I attended a power point presentation on what the eating disorders programme was all about. 

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

...who's the fairest of them all?

While I am almost positive that I look like a complete idiot when I'm working out (is that the reason my ninja sometimes smiles and won't tell me why...and why he makes me do things in front of the mirror?  Quite possibly)...but there are people at the gym who decidedly don't.  Would it be weird for me to go up and congratulate them?  Because that's exactly what I want to do.  I want to honour their dedication to fitness, their determination to make exercise a part of their daily routine, and celebrate their commitment to taking care of themselves.  They need to know that they look stunning in spandex bouncing around in the aerobics class, running on the treadmill, or flexing in the the weight room, don't they?
 

My propensity for words often leads me into conversation with perfect strangers, but I haven't complimented anyone on their physique yet.  I'm still trying to figure out how to look at myself in the mirror without averting my eyes.  Seriously.  I have lost close to 30 pounds, and it's probably harder for me to accept the way I look now than 30 pounds ago.  Maybe, it's because I'm in the gym doing things that I never thought I would be doing in front of those mirrors.  I have nothing to hide behind, and I'm wearing stretchy, sweaty clothing.  Today, I was asked to look at my snatch in the mirror (get your mind out of the gutter..it's a weightlifting thing) and I looked straight ahead to make sure that I was in the correct position and then I looked up, so I wouldn't have to see my reflection.  Maybe this is something I need to discuss with my mental coach.

Evil Queen face C/O Venomous Villains

I guess it has something to do with the fact that I've made drastic changes in my life that are affecting my frame, but the changes are subtle to anyone other than me.  I can fit into the jeans that I already own, but I haven't quite gone down into a smaller size.  I have dents were my waist is forming, but I'm still not comfy wearing a shirt with too much structure lest it show off my belly.  My rational side says, "you're doing great...keep it up, you've made progress."  And, my self-conscious teenage-girl side says, "you still look gross."  There's also a voice inside my head that tells me that I'm a supermodel when I put my hands on my hips and stomp on the treadmill...so maybe I shouldn't listen to the voices.