Weigh in Woes

Since I re-started this "journey" on June 17th of this year, I've been setting monthly goals for myself. One of my goals in September was to NOT weigh myself until October 1st - thinking that once I finally stepped on the demon scale I would be greeted with a happier number than the one I saw on September 1st. I don't know what I was expecting exactly, but I do know, as he usually does, the scale let me down again... WOMP. WOMP.

I've been busting my ass on the reg and really figured that would be reflected by that little digital number screaming up at me from my toes. Granted, I don't have to suck or push my boobie-do in to see that little screen now, but STILL! C'MON! 

Last month I weighed 249 pounds at my weigh in... putting me at 21 pounds down (That's about a car tire... or a bag of taters... or my beloved KitchenAid mixer). That's not anything to be ashamed of. And I know that "slow and steady wins the friggin race"... and that this is a "marathon not a sprint"... and all that other happy horse shit, but I want so SEE the progress... FEEL the progress... TASTE the... wait.. This isn't a Skittles commercial. And I know the slower I lose it the less flabby skin I'll have to curse about. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. 

So, this weekend I did 3 (three) 5k's. I wogged the Komen Race for the Cure twice (timed and untimed) with some of my girliefrands and I did the Ultimate Mud Warrior in OKC (that I SWEAR was longer than 3 miles - which is likely attributed to the fact that all the "wogging" was actually hiking through sloshy, heavy mud) on Sunday - over 40 obstacles!!! Of all the mud runs I've done, I believe this one was the most challenging... or maybe the one I challenged myself the most on. Either way, it was amazing. I pushed myself harder than I ever have before. I felt stronger and more capable than on any other run I've done and I'm still feeling it in my shoulders and arms (dang you, suspension cables!). 

I set my October Goals before I weighed myself this morning and I'm hoping that I haven't bitten off more than I can chew.

I already know one of my November Goals will be to not weigh in again until January 1st - a little extra Christmas present to myself. I just let that stupid little number affect me way too much. It is a number... on a screen... it does NOT define me. I have to keep reminding myself of that. But, DAMN, does it make me feel so much better about myself when I see that my hard work, sweat, tears, and time are paying off and I'm getting closer to One-derland. 

I'll measure my flabby self tonight (maybe I need to make one of my ongoing goals to speak to myself more positively... Nah... its funnier when I'm honest) and hopefully that (measuring myself) will help me with my disappointment. Until then, I'm just going to have to be satisfied in knowing that I've lost 3 one gallon jugs of water... 5 bags of sugar... a bowling ball... an average 2 year old... 25 pounds. That's it. Just 25 pounds. I've gone from 270 pounds to 245 pounds in about 3 1/2 short months.

The scale DOES NOT define me... Nope. Nope. Nope. 

Confessions and Constipation

Today I embarked on a seven mile wog... well, walk, mostly.  If I'm being honest with myself... all walk.  Anyhooter.  My goal was to finish in 2 hours.  

I had E drop me off at the QT at 71st & County Line, where I filled my 52 ounce water keg up with free ice and water, then I set out to conquer the pavement.  I zig zagged my way home from there - up Hillside drive - following the side of the road taking me into parking lots and around the backs of buildings (can't miss an opportunity for mileage) - up to Lynn Lane, down to 51st Street, and into my neighborhood.  I walked in my front door at two hours, one minute, and 57 friggin seconds.  But I'm not complaining.  There WERE issues... I'll get to those later, though.

It was a beautiful day here at home - which made for a nice walk. 

Walking for 2 hours gives you a lot of time to think, reminisce, daydream, goal plan, and just go blank. It is the most peaceful time I make for myself.  Last Friday I did the Rib Crib "Run" downtown... (we'll get to why I'm paraphrasing "run" in a minute)... My goal was 45 minutes... I did it in 46.  (Eff you extra minute!!!) I had my head phones in, my Endomondo going and my Polar checking my heart rate...  I felt preeeeeetty darn good about myself.  I was, in my mind, "bookin' it" (as my daddy used to say).  I wasn't going to beat the animal that completed the race in 17 minutes - but I my glutes were bouncing like a racquet ball!  

As I'm nearing the 3 mile mark, I turn a corner and a race monitor says to me, "Good job, Walker."  WALKER!?!?  Whatchootalkingbout, lady?!?!  WALKER!!!!  I ain't no zombie!  Then it hit me right between the eyes like a well placed stick of TNT by the RoadRunner...  I'm not a runner.  And I had a moment (or several that have led into a week) of deflatedness.  

WALKER? Me? No... I'm a "runner"... I "run"... kind of.  Sometimes.  Or I wog.  Maybe.  More than most.  Walker...?  Really?  Ugh... I AM a walker.   Why am I even doing this?   I'll never be able to do a 1/2 marathon.  What was I thinking?  That lady was right.  I'm just a lowly, fat, slow walker.  I'll never finish a race first.  I'll never run a complete 5k... I'm just a "walker"... 

WAIT!!!  Pause... re-freaking-wind this bizzzzzz-NITCH!!  BACK THE BUS UP!

I had to slap myself pretty hard.  I confess... I was having a pity party.  I was doing what most of us women do and reading into what someone else said until it fit the perfectly negative meaning I wanted it to mean - so I could whine and cry and try to recuse myself from becoming a healthier version of me.  I put the brakes on THAT heifer inside of me today.  I WILL finish a 1/2 marathon - even if I do walk most of it.  And there's NOTHING wrong with that.  So what if I never finish a race "first".  At least I've FINISHED races that others didn't even have the balls to start. Besides, I'm ONLY competing with myself (for now).  And whether I run a complete 5k or not is up to me - not the race monitor babysitting the road cone last Friday.  So, yeah... I may be a walker for NOW... but I'm moving and I've come a long way from where I was 3 months ago.  I have a lot to be proud of.  So I'm done letting that encouraging comment negatively affect me because my over thinking brain chooses to make something out of nothing.   (Phew - feels good to have that out!) 

Okay - onto my "issues" today.  Waiting at crosswalks murders your time.  And that pisses me off.  But the REAL "issue" I'd like to address is constipation.  Dr. MoYo here - and if you are suffering from any kind of bowel lockdown issues, I prescribe to you something very cheap and easy... GET OFF YOUR ASS AND MOVE - a lot (and drink LOTS of water)!  Just make sure you're never too far from a comfort station.  

Now - I've never personally had any issues with regularity.  The trash is picked up at the same time everyday.  Often multiple times.   

But, after today, I'm a believer that walking - or wogging - or whatever your poison is - will get your innards working.  

Have you ever had a "shituation"?  You know what I mean!  A "SHIT-uation".  Well, its not comfortable.  And you sweat a lot.  And you shake a little.  But I'm convinced that's mostly nerves because, let's face it, bowel movements are a bit taboo.  And, when you're in the middle of a long journey while afoot, and the need strikes you... you tend to get a little anxious.  I would just like to give a BIG thank you to Nienhuis for installing port-a-potties around their park.  You literally saved my shit today.  I believe there should be a public restroom and water fountain at every intersection in the world.  And that's all I have to say about that.   

Trying?!?!?! Ain't nobody got time for that!

Let's see... I've "started" this blog about 50 gazillion times now... kind of like losing weight.  What's different about this time?   I have no clue.  I just know I'm tired of being unhealthy, weak, and overweight.  I am SO over looking at myself in the mirror and seeing a distortion of the truth. 

I recharged, restarted, got-up-off-my-ass-and-decided-to-do-something-about-this-messfest on June 17th, 2013.  I remember very vividly looking at myself in the mirror after weighing myself that morning... (270 pounds!!! What?!?! Are you effing kidding me?  Nope... it was right there in my face... staring at me like a chocolate cake stares at a fat kid... taunting and judging and enticing - all at the same time) and saying to myself (yes - I actually said this out loud) "You should be ashamed of yourself for being such a selfish heifer and allowing yourself to become this.  Its time to quit talking, quit wishing, and quit lying to yourself.  Its time to get moving and to take care of yourself, you slobby bitch."  

Now - some may say that is harsh.  And if any of you arseholes had said that to me, I would've likely punched you in your dirty whore mouth... because its both rude annnnnnnd true.  BUT - none of you did... and sometimes I get kind of pissed about that, too. (I'm so moody)  Sometimes we need that wake up call.  Sometimes we need those closest to us to say the things to us that we don't want to hear - because, deep down, we know the truth we just don't want to face it.  But when we DO face it, we become empowered and determined and motivated... at least, that's what happened to me.  And we have to decide for ourselves that we want to make those changes.  No one can do it for us.  No one can push us.  In fact, those that tried to pushed me, sometimes only pissed me off to the point that I was like one of those e-cards where the guy is throwing all the files in there air and the caption is, "Awwww... phuck it!  Where's the all you can glutton yourself buffet?" 

It was that day that I decided I would log 100 miles by July 31st... a very ambitious goal for a fatty like your's truly.  I publicly announced this (as "public as Facebook is) and I DID IT.  I'm sure there were those that were skeptical.  I mean, how many times have I claimed I was going to make a healthy change in my life, become fit, reclaim my health - then fallen flat on my triple chin in front of everyone.  I'm sure a lot of folks were sitting back just waiting for that.  Or waiting for me to lose my steam and go back to my smart ass and self-deprecating remarks.  (I'm still full of self-deprecation because, let's face it, its funny - unless you don't have a sense of humor and, in that case... I got 99 problems, but a sense of humor ain't one. If you can't laugh at a joke, I feel bad for you, son.)

So - anyhooter - I did the 100 miles (103.59 miles to be exact).  I did "lose my steam" around the first of July - then I put my big girl panties (trust me, they were HUGE ugly granny panties!!!) back on and went back to it.  Once I finished up my July goal, I was STOOOOOOOKED and couldn't wait to make my August goals... (at one point I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Whooooooo ARE you? You've never made 'goals' before...)  August came and went and I kicked those goals in their snarly, bitter teeth.  By the end of August, I had lost 20 pounds (which puts me back to where I was when I started this friggin blog 50 gazillion years ago.)  But - that's not the point.  The point is - I'm DOING IT THIS TIME.  

I have found a new poison - races.  The best part of the race is that I'm not racing everyone else.  I'm racing myself.  And mud runs... HOLY SHAT!  Where have these obstacle course mud runs been my whole fat life?  Can you say, "uh-dict-tion"? (Sound it out - hooked on phonics)  

I believe one of the major factors in my success now and going forward is this... "Trying" is not good enough.  To "try" allows you an excuse to fail.  To "try" give you a back-out option.  But if you say you're "DOING" something and you accept no other alternative - you WILL succeed.   So, when I say I'm "DOING" this - I mean failure is not an option.  Slowly or quickly - it doesn't matter.  I'm moving forward.  I'm not going backwards.  I'm not standing still.  I'm DOING THIS SHIT!  Because, "trying"... psh... Ain't nobody got time for that! 

Is this thing on...

Testing. Testing. 

Getting my thoughts together and giving this "blog thing" another shot. 

Disclaimer: my filter is not always secured... And it has huge gaping holes. I'm honest. I'm upfront. I know others are thinking exactly what I'm saying so I figure I may as well put it out there. 

Okay. Ready... Set... I'm getting ready here 

MyFitnessPal

I use it... If you want to get fit, you should, too.
Come find me - moyo78

My name is Mollie - and I approve this message.  ;)

Round 2...

Hopefully I'll knock myself out this time!

Today started "Fat Camp" at work with two co-workers... They say you have more success if you do it as a team... so... TEAM FAT CAMP, we are... and TEAM FAT CAMP, we'll lose!

Stay tuned... more to come...

Now... FATTY UP - cuz skinny Mollie is just around the corner! =)

To stop a SuperVillain...

What was the point of this blog...? Uhhhhhh.... Oh! -To document and claim responsibility of my weight and the loss there of... hopefully.

Now - I know that in order to lose weight one must... what's the word... it's a bad one... it's right on the tip of my tongue... oh, yes - "EXERCISE" (spoken in a whiny, condescending tone). I've hovered around this necessity without much conviction for weeks. I've prayed that it would rain so that I would have a valid excuse to dodge my friend's request to walk two miles in the evenings. I've used "tired", "sore", "missed my husband", "must iron", "kitchen to clean, "help with homework", and "already ready for bed" as reasons why it was impossible for me to subject myself to increased heart rate and calorie burning WAY too often recently. Let's face it, Folks... I didn't get fat because I'm a "go getter"... because I DON'T enjoy sitting on the couch all cozy and inviting in front of the television in the evenings after work. Oh no! I am fat because... well... because... *sigh*... I'M LAZY!!! There. I said it. I. Am. Lazy.

I know you're all shocked. I know you must be thinking, "Now, now, MoYo, don't be so hard on yourself. You're a working mom. You're a busy wife. You have obligations and duties to your family and your loved ones that leave little time for you to indulge in such activities as *gasp* exercising!" Well... save the pity (but don't cancel the party just yet!). Yes - it's true. I agree. I AM a working mom & wife and I DO have obligations - but, really... why DID I pay for that 3 year gym membership if I was only going to use it 3 times. Why DID I buy those TurboJam videos if I was only going to use them for 3 months? (and they do work, by the way)

You see... I am a former "exerciser". There was once a time in my life when I actually did understand and acknowledge that in order for ME to be thin, I have to sweat... a lot! I would do my silly little exercise videos in the privacy of my own home - with my husband and boys laughing WITH me... and sometimes even joining me. I actually ENJOYED it, even! I know the benefits of exercising first hand - better sex life (HELLO!!!! Isn't THAT reason enough!?!?!), more energy, less sleepless nights, great attitude, confidence, natural appetite suppressant... and when I weigh those benefits (no pun intended) to the non-beneficial reasons of exercising, I got nothin'. So, really - what the hey-hey is my problem people?!?!

I've already said it - but it bears repeating: I. AM. A. LAZY. ASS! I hate on the skinny "bitches" because I'm not one of them - AS I recline on my couch with my Pepsi and piece of cream cheese pie. I watch those silly VH-1 countdowns of the "hottest swimsuit bodies" and dream of having legs that would put a man (mainly, my own man, mind you) to his knees. I secretly wish I could run in marathon's and dance through a whole song without getting winded enough to sit down. In MY mind, I'm no different than Beyonce and I tell myself that if I were thin, I'd look a lot like Kourtney Kardashian with Khloe's voluptuousness. All this - as I savor the creamy sweetness of the calorie ridden pie I'm consuming. Do you see the problem? Yeah - me neither.... BLAH!

If I'm honest with myself (which I think by now you know I am) - I will slap myself and say, "MoYo - you will not accomplish any of your goals if you do not exercise. You must sweat to lose and you must move to sweat. You must commit yourself to this completely or quit whining about your inflated ass & boobie-do. QUIT being lazy. QUIT making excuses! Get OFF your lazy ass and DO something GOOD for yourself because if you do NOT make time for exercise, then it won't matter to your family what you do or don't do for them because you won't be around to do any of it anyway!"

Now that I've given myself a proper "come to Jesus" speech and admitted that I.A.A.L.A, I feel compelled to MOVE forward. I can now remind myself that I.A.A.L.A. must be stopped - like the super villain she is.

Now - where did I put that remote so I can play this exercise video?!?! =)