Weigh-In Wednesday #8

Gratitude, not attitude.  Gratitude, not attitude.  Gratitude, not attitude.  This is my new mantra, especially after Weigh-in Wednesday's results.

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

I knew a week like this was coming, but I ignored the warnings from my ninja, dietitian, Croatian conscience, husband, and the voices inside my head who all told me that it could very well be this week.  I wasn't prepared for the disappointment I felt when I hopped on the scale and saw my numbers.  Oh.  0.6 pounds lost.  That's good right?  At least the numbers didn't go up and I have been building muscle...and that weighs more than fat.  Gaaaaahhhh!  Hissy fit!  I wanted to be brave, I wanted to be strong, I wanted to be happy...but I was decidedly pissed off.  I may have stomped around the loft for a few minutes...then instead of feeling sorry for myself, I took a shower...but before that I kicked the scale.  I am obviously not very enlightened. 

Gratitude, not attitude.   

Some people complain because there are thorns on roses.  Others appreciate the roses amongst the thorns - Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami

Meditate on the good:  gratitude and appreciation are life changing.  They are a powerful medicine that heals hurt, hatred, and sadness.  Gratitude and appreciation rid the mind of judgement, generate self-respect, confidence, and security.  And, I need me some of that. 

Gratitude, not attitude.

Weigh-in Wednesday results re-do:

Wednesday mornings start before my alarm goes off; the butterflies in my stomach wake me up early and one of the first things I do is step on the scale.

This week, I was down 0.6 pounds...which probably means I have put on some muscle.  In fact, I know I have...because when I flex (and after I have a good laugh at the fact that I am attempting to flex my muscles in the bathroom mirror.  Who am I?  A 14-year-old boy?  Haha...) I can see "lines."  These lines are known as muscle definition...and I know this because when you show any boy your "line" they say, "Oh, you mean you can see muscle definition."  Thank you, Paul for the heads up.  Note to self:  show definition on plain leg, not tattooed one as lines aren't as prominent when in competition with ink...and also, shave legs more often.

As is tradition for me on Wednesdays, I must also try on outfits that were previously too small for my dangerous curves.  This was particularly thrilling this WIW, as I decided to adorn myself in two dresses that I had previously retired at about 240-250 pounds.  So, what made me think that at 261.4 pounds I would be able to squeeze into these frocks?  I don't know.  Call it a hunch.  I haven't taken my measurements since starting this challenge, but I can feel the changes that my shape has gone through...first I got a waist, then some cheekbones, this week, perhaps there's less junk in my trunk.  Both rather tailored garments fit, and both looked (dare I say it) kinda good.  Now to conquer the world of heels...without breaking any bones.    

This is also a perfect opportunity for me to switch up my cardio routine and play around with my eating habits.  This may be my body telling me it's getting used to the treadmilll and all the wine.  Haha...For the first month of this challenge, I combined bike, treadmill, and elliptical, but I think I've been heavily favouring the treadmill as I've gotten involved with the Crystal Fools Run/Walk Clinic...and it seems to be the most challenging...and I like a challenge (obviously).  As for the wine, maybe I'll switch to Guinness as Guinness is good for you if you believe the marketing campaign, and appropriately it's Saint Patrick's Day week. 

Gratitude, not attitude.

Now, how do you say namaste in Irish?

Pionta Guinness, le do thoil. 
An bhfuil tú ar meisce fós? 
Ta me are meisce.

Yogattitude

My mother's been doing it since the 70s, my MAC friends swear by it, the oracle Delfine does it 3-4 times a week after work, and archaeologist Gregory Possehl sees "a form of ritual discipline" depicted in several seals dating back to the 3rd millennium before common era, so I think it's about time that I try yoga too.

I ventured into Fan Tan Alley just before dark via Pandora, found the elevator past the blast of aromatherapy escaping one store, and journeyed up 5 storeys to MokSana.  I get out of the elevator, and I am greeted by a plethora of shoes.  Good thing I wore my slip-on jika tabi...I added them to the top of the pile.  Just being in a yoga studio is foreign to me, so I make my way to the front desk and I am instructed to go up the steep stairs on the right.

At the top and through a door, a steamy yoga studio revealed itself.  There were a few colourful mats on the hardwood floor, props piled high on the wall shelving, 360 degrees of windows, an overwhelming sense of calm in the room, and a picture of Ganesha on the wall...I plopped myself next to him...if an elephant (albeit a very special one) can do yoga, so can I. 

MACoween 2006 - Taryn, Pam, Marc, Me, Jess

Lil' Red came over to me as soon as she saw me.  I attempted to attend Taryn's class (Anahata Moon Yoga) last week, but was thwarted by a late husband, a bad sense of direction, the front desk, and a locked door.  That makes it seem much more dramatic than it was in reality...but I don't care.  Let there be drama.  We're going to meditate all that away soon.  Taryn welcomed me to the class with a big hug and a bunch of compliments...awww shucks.  I met this beautiful soul in 2006 when I started working at MAC @ The Bay Victoria.  She and I (along with Kirsten) were the fiery redheaded component of the team; small in stature, big in personality.      Taryn took me through my "sink or swim" orientation on counter.  Her teaching methods were thoughtful and patient, too bad I started during holiday rush madness.  Luckily, yoga is nothing like a MAC counter at Christmas.

A journey of a thousand leagues begins beneath one's feet - Lao-tzu

Okay, that quote is not Indian, but it's what I thought of when I started being all bendy and yogic.  Since starting this challenge, I have tried to be open to all forms of exercise (no matter what I feel that I am capable of) and yoga was just one more class for which I was game.  So when Taryn commenced the practice with शवासन or corpse pose, I was relieved to say the least.  

Yogini Taryn

Taryn started by relaxing our bodies and then brought us gradually into positions after fully realising 3 count breathing.  She explained the movements so precisely that I never felt lost (which is an accomplishment because I feel that way pretty much every time I do anything related to exercise).  I was happy to discover that my body actually accepted, nay, rejoiced at doing yoga.  Which is brilliant for a newbie like me, the class flew by as I flowed from one pose to another...not the same way as other students did during the class, but Taryn's method taught me to accept the fact that I was a neophyte and that modification was not a weakness.  At least I was endeavouring to achieve all positions.  When I was done, she even saluted my downward dog.  Who knew I was good at ass-over-teakettle?  Haha...When I left the studio, I was relaxed, had sweated, and felt one with myself.

Yoga?

Yes please.

See you next Tuesday. 

Sit 'n' Spin

Del and Suzie - Voodoo Museum - New Orleans, LA

I got this email from one of my besties, Del, who has lost about 50 pounds in the last few years by combining a healthy diet with walking and yoga, see "The oracle Delfine speaks.."  She has been an incredible support system for me throughout the years that I have known her, and even though she is clear across the country in la belle ville, she continues to egg me on in my quest for fitness.  So, when Lil' Miss Yoga told me she might try a class or two before coming out west for a visit, I expected something like aquafit or pilates.  Del went to a spin class on her lunch break.  For someone with a degree in Public Relations, you'd think she'd be more used to "spin."  Haha...

I just came back from spinning and…my ass is killing me! Those seats feel like they’re made out of concrete!

Five minutes into the class, I was staring at the clock praying that it would move forward a little faster (it did not!) but I persevered and made it through the class.

Here are two observations:

Observation no. 1:

I don’t like cardio! Let me correct this statement: I don’t like cardio when I’m huffing and puffing but I love the high you get once you’re done. I also like the fact that even though you feel like you’re going to die, if you tell yourself “Just another 5 minutes”, you suddenly realize that you made it through the entire class and you’re kind of super proud of yourself for toughing it out. ‘Cause honestly, I was ready to quit 6 minutes into the 45 minute class.

Observation no. 2:

This yelling at you to motivate you just really annoys me! I think that’s mostly because of the yoga thing! Trust me, there is no yelling in yoga and you still manage to push the hell out of yourself. In the spinning-teacher’s defense, her music was really loud (fun!) so I guess she didn’t have a choice but to yell.

All this to say, you inspired and I perspired!

I have no idea how I inspired this sort of bicycular torture, but I'm thrilled that Del discovered the ridiculous after-cardio high that you get from endorphins, and the sense of accomplishment that you experience when you finish something that you didn't want to do in the first place.  And, after all, she had better get accustomed to cardio if she's going to come to Victoria and stay with me.  I'm not sure if we'll be spinning together in the near future, but if that concrete bike seat wants anywhere near my ass, it had better buy me dinner first.

Heavy Mental

Two weeks in, 12 pounds down, and my first group mental training session.  We talked about setting smart goals - Specific Measurable Actionable Realistic Timely goals...all I could think of was bondage pants.  Oh, you mean the one we set with our trainers?  50 pounds gone by the end of this thing.  We talked of semantics, positive self talk and gratitude.

The session is geared around building mental toughness for your journey - it is a good time to check in with yourself to see how you are doing and learn some skills to help with any challenges that pop up - Christie Gialloreto

Grade 12 me.

About a month ago I had my one on one with Christie.  How do you sum up your life and how you got the way got and the reasons for that in an hour?  Realistically, how do you do that without laying on a couch with a box of tissues beside you?  I managed.  

I told her how I grew up healthy and active, I knew the ins and outs of food due to my dietitian mother, how I got really skinny in high school because my boyfriend thought I was kinda chunky.  I told her about my switch from feeling in control by restricting calories to mindful eating.  This is a tricky kind of consumption.  The "you told me I was fat, you told me to eat less," well, I'm going to stuff my face with potato chips because that'll show you.  How does that work exactly?  It doesn't.
 

Take me to the club!

University living, junior varsity field hockey, and a change in relationships started me back on track for a year or so, but I started new habits...staying up all night, hanging out with friends, eating junk food, drinking beer, and then going home, sleeping, and repeating.  Maybe throw some dancing in there for cardio - I had a love affair with Love Affair and the Drawing Room.  Ah, good times.  And this kept up until the 2nd part of 2nd year...when I was asked to leave.  Shame!  I guess that's what happens when you decide it's more important to attend Pub Night than Zooarchaeology 340...I know I'm not the only one out there that has gone this route, but I'm too polite to name names.  You know who you are...and we are all smart cookies with insatiable appetites for fun.  For the record, when I went back to uni I made the Dean's List each semester, and got my Bachelor of Arts with distinction.  Pheuff!

Aidy, Róisín, Me, Sarah, Kevin

Then there was Malta.  I was more curvy than ever, but that didn't stop me from packing 2 bikinis to sport on one of the rocky limestone beaches on that most magnificent rock...and my university residence had a pool!  Not to mention, the restaurant at said university residence sold very lovely $4 bottles of Matlese wine.  Heaven! Summer school in archaeology and a fabulous place to live?  Yes, please!  There's even an entire city in Malta dedicated to partying.  Paceville is chockablock full of bars and clubs...and university kids, like me.  House music poured out of the discos and into the streets where we roamed in search of the ubiquitous foam party.      

Summer school in Malta turned into real life archaeology in Ireland.

The terrors of Temple Bar - Su and Lu

I was 21 through 23 years old when I was abroad.  Archeology, despite what you might imagine, is hard work....it's not all old bearded British gentlemen donning suede-patched sports coats in oxblood coloured club chairs waxing philosophical.  For me, it was digging in sand and dirt trenches in the sun, rain, and even snow.  It was, "Here's this skull cap, now find the rest of this skellie."  But, archaeology isn't the only thing I indulged in whilst I was living in Éire.  I don't know if you have partaken in the nectar of the gods that is Guinness?  It is certainly one of my weaknesses.  From my first perfectly pulled half-pint at Bruxelles, I was hooked.  And, here's what they don't tell you about Ireland in the guidebooks...no one entertains at home, everyone goes out to pubs to socialise.  So when in Rome...erm...Dublin, do as the Irish do.  And, FYI,  you cap off a night of drinking the black stuff with a quick trip to the nearest Abrakebabra for some curry fries.  My bathroom window even opened out onto the chippy downstairs.  It was hard to resist the temptation of fast food when the smell of batter burgers wafted through my flat 24/7.  

So, I gained some weight when I was there, and when I returned to Victoria I dealt with it.  With my parents' help, I found an exercise physiologist who introduced a workout regimen that would take me from over 180 pounds to 160 something in the weeks that preceded my move back to Montréal.  

Murphy's Pub w/ the Royal Belles

After living in Europe, it became imperative for me to find a happy place somewhere between Valetta and Victoria, and what better city than my hometown of Montréal?  I moved back in 1999.  There, I returned to university and immersed myself in the subculture known as rockabilly.  I reveled in the scene for the next 7 years.  Montréal is the most cosmopolitan city in the world.  It's like Europe, but not.  It's idiosyncratic.  Québeckers, like me, are enamoured with the good things in life.  Fashion, food, drink, music, culture...the list is extensive...and these things are enjoyed with an unparalleled joie de vivre.  I'm not even going to mention the poutine.  Montréal, the temptress, took me in and showed me how to live life to excess.  Sadly, my intemperance lead to obesity, yo-yo dieting, and depression - certainly not the sort of hangover you can cure with a greasy breakfast.

Stéphane and I moved to Victoria in 2006, partly because we thought the lifestyle would be healthier.  Unfortunately, our bad habits had moved with us.   

West coast Suzie on a float plane.

What does all this have to do with my mental coaching session? Well, this is my history...how I earned my weight.  I was fine with food until my self-esteem took a bit of a beating, then instead of coping by starving, I coped by stuffing.  I gave up sports, I lived the life of a student, I ate too much and drank too much, my addiction to junk food started and sheer laziness prevailed until I returned from my adventures overseas where I took charge of my health for a brief period until I lost myself in la plus extraordinaire city in the world.  There, I learned to accept myself while trying to reduce my weight for several intermittent periods.  Moved out west, continued the languorous lifestyle, dieted down, ate myself back up, broke my foot, gained more, depression set in, sprained my ankle...enough is enough (and this time I mean it)!

Ask me about my ninja disguise.

Christine heard it all...and now, so have you.  I had already quit unhealthy food cold turkey and started training 9 times a week when we started working on mental toughness.  It's all about commitment, control, consistency, and confidence.  

I have learned that our background and circumstances influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become - Anonymous       

 If that's true...I want to become a ninja...in PVC bondage pants, of course.

Let's get physical, physical...I wanna get physical...

Yes, I am Madonna.

If the thought of bouncing around in an aerobics class conjures up 80s images of Olivia Newton-John singing PHYSICAL, spandex leggings, braided sweatbands, high ponytails, and blue eyeliner, then we're on the same wavelength.

More realistically for me, it should be reminiscent of the step classes I used to attend in bike shorts and wife beaters, the music was more C+C Music Factory - Gonna Make You Sweat and House of Pain - Jump Around with a little U2 - One for cool down or slow dancing...haha.  My hair was to my waist and parted in the middle, but I'd stick it in a bun and remove my plaid flannel shirt and leave my teenage angst at the door before class started.

So a couple days ago when I tried an aerobics class I kinda knew what to expect.  The music is contemporary, the clothes have gone from spandex leggings with a g-string leotard holding them up to yoga pants and a quick dry tank, and I have gone from looking like I know what I'm doing to making things up as I go along.  The thing is, it's fun and it burns calories.  The ninja says it is what you make it.

Yesterday's class was awesome!  When I wasn't lost and making up my own dance moves (much to the chagrin of the women around me), I was box-stepping, knees-upping, and kick-backing in sync with the rest of the group.  It must have been my jock-inspired workout gear I was wearing...a cut-up Bon Temps football shirt and some new fancy fabric yoga pants.  I even copped on to the "repeaters" and the four to two count stuff.  The gods of bouncing around were smiling on me.

Workouts can get monotonous if you let them, that's why you gotta shake it up a little.

*Jiggle Jiggle*      

Weigh-In Wednesday #7

Lucky number Se7en.

Obviously my black cat, Cobweb, who crosses my path all the time,  the spider I squished on the kitchen floor on Thursday, and the ladder I walked under on purpose had no effect on WIW this week...except that it is raining right now.  Damn that spider!  Though, that was probably because I forgot my umbrella today....sorry I made it rain, Victoria.  Murphy's Law.

Mama Spitfyre's House of Voodoo - our elixirs really work!

This week I'm down 4.2 pounds!  That's a grand total of 31.1 pounds lost and just a hair over 10% of my body gone!  I guess I had some good ju-ju stored up somewhere. 


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

As Lafayette Reynolds would say:  "Well you go ahead on, hooker, with your badass. Good for you."

su·per·sti·tion: a notion maintained despite evidence to the contrary

I have this notion that food is my enemy and should be handled with extreme caution...I am a food addict after all.  Before I started this challenge, I ate a plethora of the unhealthy with "emotional reckless abandon" and now I am nearly too particular with what I put in my body.  The very thought of relinquishing some control and allowing someone else to do the cooking or going to a restaurant scares the bejezus out of me.  But, that is real life.  And, I can't live my life in fear, now can I?  So this past week, I took Eleanor Roosevelt's advice, and I did a couple things that spooked me:

1. I allowed someone else to cook a meal in which I indulged (Thanks Michelle, it was delicious xox)
2. I ate the full allotment of my calories for the week

What?  Why have I been choosing to ignore the experts for so long?  Both my trainer and my dietitian have been on my case about eating the right things in the right amounts at the right times, yet my brain was still stuck in eat less, lose more mode.  Well, no longer...down 4.2 pounds and eating more food?  Haha...I'd say that is superstition debunked!

 

Jonathan and Heather...do do that voodoo that you do so well.

 

Voodoo Museum, New Orleans, Louisiana

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.