A Battle Within

I'm not going to lie, I've been struggling a bit lately when it comes to body image, the number on the scale, and what I see in the mirror. I have days where I feel absolutely fantastic about myself, proud of what I've accomplished, days I don't really think about it, and days where I'm still ashamed of the flab/loose skin/stretch marks/cellulite that still exists, negative voices secretly whispering in my mind to rip the mirror off of the wall. I see the fitness models and images I gain inspiration from through Instagram/Twitter/Facebook that help keep the "drive alive" when it comes to getting fitter/better/faster/stronger/leaner each day, but some days it makes me even more ashamed of who I am. Some days I crave to look like a beast; other days I realize I don't want to put that much time in each day at the gym because, to put it bluntly, I have a life. I have husband and a four-legged child I adore and love, a full-time job, a part-time "job," another part-time job, a school life, and somewhere in the middle, a social life too. I love to travel, I love to spend time with family, and I love to be myself. But some days, my thoughts can get lost or convoluted...

To be honest, even if I have lost 110+ lbs., even if I lost a "baby horse," a person, whatever you want to justify it with, I still have days where I find myself feeling awful about the way I look.

...as you may or may not have read in my last post, I started weight training. Though I had thinned out and was able to "run" off quite a bit of weight/mass, I didn't have much muscle tone throughout my upper body and midsection. I wanted to change this so, after the Mini Marathon, I decided to back off my miles to something manageable for me, 8-9 miles/week average, or run at least 3 times a week, 1/2 hour at a time, with two days (at least) of strength training.

So far, strength training has blessed me with what appears to be obliques and a line running between my bicep and deltoid on my upper arm. (Side note: I squealed like a little girl the same as when I found my jawline or collar bone for the first time.) I do monitor my measurements more, but what I've found most difficult to deal with is the fact I've gained back about five pounds according to that pesky number on the scale.

I'm sure you're thinking, "big whoop, Ash. You've lost a metric crap-ton of weight." Well, for me, it's just like buffets. It's a slippery slope; a slope I don't want to have to climb back up. With buffets, or an abundance of food available, I have a hard time managing how much I eat. I'll keep eating until the point of sickness, especially with sweets. If I get around food, my mind honestly turns to mush. I'm like a zombie searching for brains to feast (and I will tackle someone standing between me and cake).
I have a very difficult time saying no, and give in to temptation way too easily.

...and I eat irrationally with emotions during difficult times.

Seeing the number on the screen creep back up has caused me to crack down, taking myself out of a difficult "food" situation, and trying to track every single thing I put in my mouth. And even though I've been focusing on it, with weight training, I've slowly watched my weight creep up the scale still. Now, of course you hear "muscle weighs more than fat." I don't necessarily think that's true. Sure, muscle is much more dense than fat, however one pound of fat is one pound of muscle. It's just a difference in mass & size.

I track calories every day using My Fitness Pal. It's easy, you can scan UPC barcodes for nutrition information, and set goals, whether it's nutrition or exercise levels.

Typically, I limit myself to 1400 calories/day, however I bend here and there every once in a while for a splurge. I try to limit them as much as possible, and eat as "clean" as I can, but I'm only human. Lately though, I feel as if I haven't been eating enough, or that my body is going in to "starvation mode." I've been gaining where I should be losing, in that I haven't been "eating back" calories burnt while running or working out, and only going over my daily calorie limit here and there, in hopes of losing that pesky five pounds I've put back on.

Plateaus can go kick rocks.

After speaking with a few "weight loss"  buddies, friends, and a family member who also is a fantastic Zumba/Spin/Piyo instructor and personal trainer, I've decided to bump up my calories a few, to 1600 a day at least to see where it gets me. Maybe it's that I need to eat more to lose? It is possible afterall, and is a common weight loss myth.

...but just eating more calories doesn't mean you will eat more to lose, you have to eat more of the right things.

 ...and you have to persevere.

:)

His and Hers

My coworker suggested I write about, as...in her words, "it's too funny not to."...but I'm going to spare you with the details (and humorous marriage story, for sake of Mr. K).

As with any marriage, you have his and you have hers. It could be the "pile of beauty crap" I have on my shelf in the bathroom versus his one stick of deodorant, razor, toothbrush, and toothpaste on his. It could be my car preference versus his truck. He doesn't run. He thinks I'm crazy (though I'm sure I am) for running, but I love it. He likes to relax on vacation, I like to explore. He's relaxed and watches the world go by, allowing negativity to roll off of his back; I dig in deep to ensure I'm enjoying said world, while also being slightly OCD about it.

...but "His and Hers" also applies to our food. We have two very different tastes when it comes to our palates, but I always say, "opposites attract." He's a meat and potatoes guy with no interest in "foliage" or "greenery," while in my weight loss journey, I can't get enough of lean meats, fruits, and veggies (but with a vicious sweet-tooth). There have been several times I've thought to myself, "Wow. His and hers meals, huh?"

Tonight's big debate for dinner? Pizza. Specifically a particular company's offering; one slice compares to the amount of calories I consume in one meal. Usually when I know we're getting pizza, I try to buffer it with a HUGE salad first, so I can enjoy a slice or two rather than inhale an entire pie. However, said company doesn't offer a side salad, and "salad" in my refrigerator is nonexistent until I grocery shop tomorrow. Dilemma.

I'll be perfectly honest, all I want to do is eat the entire pizza. I know I won't stop if I don't have that buffer; I've had that problem before, and I have that problem when going to buffets (it's why I avoid them at all costs if I can), as I try to control portion at all costs. I have a horrible issue with 'portion distortion,' even after four-plus years of weight loss, but I try to combat it with measuring foods, dividing them out, using a food scale, and planning my meal-day ahead, as I usually stick to goals easier that way.

But, but.... Pizza. It's my favorite.

As I've said before, I'm a firm believer in moderation over deprivation. If you cut something completely out of your diet you enjoy, you will crave it at one time or another. I promise you that. And there are times where one should just enjoy themselves, enjoy the moment, and throw calorie-caution to the wind. But after the Mini Marathon, my diet has slacked and I've really tried to clean things up this week to no avail. My sweet tooth (and Pinterest recipe ideas) strike again!

...and poor Mr. K - he's in the line of fire. All he wants is this certain kind of pizza, it's been a while since we've had it, but since they don't offer any side salads or additional foods that aren't 1,000 calories a slice, I'm struggling, and he heard about it. (To which I'm very sorry and feel absolutely horrible in the way it was delivered to Mr. K. He pushed for pizza, resulting in me panicking over pizza-hoarding desperation. I don't trust myself with food, but really Ash? Suck it up and let him have the damn pizza.)

...but as with anything I eat, I adapt. I'm currently planning on still ordering said pizza, but sticking to what I know - loading my half of that bad boy down with nothing but veggies (light on the cheese), and limiting myself to what I can have. I'm also planning to stop by the grocery to pick up a prepackaged side salad to eat as my buffer.

For me, I know preplanning works best, especially in situations like this, as know Mr. K likes what he likes (despite my insistence on giving some things a try, or others the boot; poor guy), so an extra side trip it is!

How do you adapt or handle this situation? Comment below, and share with me and others your stories, issues, or situations, and most importantly - how you adapt to challenging food situations. I'd definitely love to hear your ideas!

22 Days and Counting

I seriously could puke right now.

Today's the day those running the 500 Festival Mini Marathon received their confirmation information, wave/seeding info, and bib numbers for the event, along with a participation guide.

...apparently, they are okay with me running. That's good to know?

I'm in the last (5th) wave, starting at 8:45am, and hopefully crossing the finish line no later than noon-ish, I hope. (Just in time for beer and a lunch. Ha!)

To be honest - I'm really, really nervous. It's my first half marathon, so I expected some nerves, but am I ready? No. Absolutely not. (Hell no would actually be more of a proper response.) My training has hit a wall, I'm getting burnt out, and my foot still hasn't fully healed, while I've also not been "officially" cleared to run from the doctor just yet, with 22 days to go. (Um, yeah?)

I should really quit complaining, right?

Honestly, I have the worst gut-feeling this is going to be bad, awful, or just plain embarrassing. I'm not happy with my training, I'm not happy with not running, and I'm supposed to be running 11 miles this weekend.

Am I being to hard on myself? Yeah, probably, and I should just shove everything aside and enjoy the moment. I'm not sure what happened to the girl who just wanted to stay off the (18 min/mile) trail bus, not die, and cross the finish line healthy and happy. Screw time! Nothing wrong with that at all.

(But Competitive-Ashley isn't thinking that way. She needs to shut it, right?!)

I honestly think I've let me competitiveness get the best of me, which has burnt me out quickly while also filling my thoughts with negative and toxic worries. So my goal for the next 22 days? Not care.

Be happy. Take it all in. Enjoy it. Learn from it. Don't die. Listen to the bagpipers while I enter Indianapolis Motor Speedway for my lap around the track and smooch of the famed bricks (thanks for the tip, Dave!). And smile when you cross the finish line.

“Much of what we consider valuable in our world arises out of (these) one-sided conflicts. Because the act of facing overwhelming odds, produces greatness and beauty.”

― Malcolm Gladwell, David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants

 

Blogger's Note: I'll have more details in the coming days; a race preview of the Mini. And hopefully by then a not so, "woe-as-me" post. Negative Ashley can take a hike and never come back. ;)

Scary Thoughts

As I’m sitting here writing this blog, currently it’s -11 deg. F. It’s brutal-cold. I don’t plan to go outside at all today if I can help it, though I’m scheduled to run my second run of the second week of Couch to 5K (again). Since it’s a snow day from work, I figure an update is in order, among several other things I have planned, like learning how to arm-knit. Seriously.

However, I’ve had some rather scary thoughts over the past few days.

You could say I love to travel. I’m a pilot’s daughter. I have the travel-bug, the need to explore. I’m the type of person to either, A.) Have a scheduled sightseeing tour down the second when being touristy, or B.) Set out (most likely on my own) and just wander aimlessly, taking in a city by foot, people-watching and trying to blend in as best as this Hoosier can, while getting lost and submersing myself into a new culture. This year, I have what could be the best opportunity to travel several places in 2014; by far being the most I’ve traveled in one summer since graduating college. I’m hoping, among a few races with an internship possibility, a few races and road trip to Central PA, and a trip to Boston to visit a now close-friend (who I still wish didn’t move, but I understand...), it could be a rather cool 2014! (At least I hope…)

But then my mom dropped what I’ve wanted to hear a week or so ago when having a mother/daughter lunch: Cruise to the Bahamas.

Um, yes please?!

It’s currently -11F and dropping in Indiana; meanwhile it’s a balmy 73F in Nassau. Do we really have to wait until May?!

I’ve been on the cruise before, my last being just shy of my 21^st birthday. Yes, it’s the Disney Cruise, but my mom and I both had a blast. Can we say, Serenity Bay? (Adults ONLY beach: Hell. Yes.)

Anyway, my first thought wasn’t, “Oh, I LOVE Nassau!” It was, “Oh, God. Should I buy a bikini?”

Which then ensues panic.

Sheer. Panic.

You see, it’s always been my dream, or kind of a ‘bucket list’ item, to actually be able to pull one off, though the pure thought of actually wearing one freaks me out. I’m too modest, but I want to do it. Just once to say I have. (But NO PICTURES ALLOWED.)

The only thought getting me through is that most folks on the boat with me, won’t see me again. Right?

I have about 4 or 5 months to get ready, and I’m running again, while also adding in kettlebell and weight training that I haven’t done before. I’m not going to be ripped by May or June, but I don’t want to jiggle everywhere. Seriously. That's how I feel...

As part of 2014’s resolution goal, I want to be able to embrace myself, my body, and get rid of all of the negative thoughts I have on a regular basis. You know, the “who cares if I have loose skin and stretch marks?” To be able to love myself wholly, and to not pick myself apart regarding imperfections. Rather, to embrace them.

But I’m incredibly self-conscious about everything. I hate the stretch marks I have. I hate the jiggle, the loose skin and wrinkles I have even if I’m doing ab work to the point laughing hurts.

…and yes, I know with time, it could go away. I can already see my obliques smoothing out which is kind of cool. While I was running pre-surgery, my legs started to take the shape of Carrie Underwood’s. (And seriously, she’s my fitness idol, I’m not going to lie. I love her, and her dedication to her fitness and health.)

I’m not the most patient person. If anything, we learned that post-op, didn’t we? But I think that’s also why I look at the scale too much, not measurements and definition, which is what I should focus upon now as I shift to maintenance instead of weight loss. Let’s face it, it’s the instant-gratification world I live in that is driving it. (I know that.)

But in the meantime, while stressing thinking of beach weather and bikinis, I’m throwing around options. There’s the midkini (which is apparently a thing) that rides a bit lower from the bust, and a little higher around the waist (perrrrrfect option for my conscious). There’s the tankini, which is also two-piece, with a tank top covering most of the stomach area. The one I really want though, found via Pinterest, is a lace covered one piece, in the style of a bikini, but the lace covers the midriff area. Only problem? $130. (I croaked.)

Whenever I find one, which it’s still going to be a while, I’ll share, but it won’t be me wearing it in the picture. I'm not the person who lifts their shirt for selfies of their abs. I’m too modest and uncomfortable with the thought, even if I am in shape. It makes me shudder just thinking of showing off my stomach, let alone anything else in open air, and God forbid, public...on a beach.

Oof. I have a long way to go, don’t I?