Long, drawn-out entry about exercise / dieting to follow.
Not likely to interest anyone besides myself. (Sorry!)
For a while now (a couple months? maybe longer...), I've been trying to exercise more regularly. I'm not doing intense workouts, but I do try to do a little fast-paced walking and/or Wii boxing (Gold's Gym Cardio Workout) almost every day. (I do occasionally skip a day if I'm feeling under the weather or need a break.)
Along with the light exercise, I've also said goodbye to soft drinks. I probably should've taken note of the latest no-more-Coke starting date, but I didn't. It's been three or four months, probably.
Anyway, with the exercise and the water-instead-of-Dr. Pepper and a serious effort at not totally pigging out on unhealthy food (without actually forbiding myself a few treats now and then), I've been hoping to see some results.
The Wii balance board has been telling me that I'm slowly losing weight, but you (probably) know how it is. You lose a couple pounds, but in a day or two you're back to where you were. Then you lose a couple more and maybe only creep back up one pound. It's definitely not a speedy, steady, all-one-direction process.
So, with the numbers not being particularly inspiring, I look for other sources to confirm that, yes, my not-exactly-hard work is paying off. My arms feel slightly more toned, thanks to the boxing game. That's nice, but still not quite what I'd hoped for. I try to pay closer attention to how my clothes fit. Maybe something that used to be a bit tight is fitting more comfortably. (Please? It'd be nice...) Nope, no obvious changes there. (That is disappointing. I guess I need to ramp up my efforts or cut back further on the less healthy food. Or just give it more time, maybe.)
Then. Today. This morning. While getting dressed to go grocery shopping, I put on my wedding ring. (I'm not one who wears jewelry-- even my wedding ring-- every day. In fact, I usually only put it on when I leave the house.) The ring has been a little tight for a while, now-- especially in the hotter time of the year, I think. Well, despite the heat of August, it was noticeably looser on my finger. (!!!)
What? Why aren't you all jumping up and down? Why do I not hear squealing? ;o)
This may not seem like much, but it was enough to make me happy!
It's amazing; that exercise / watching your diet stuff really works, huh? (Even if it takes longer than we'd like.)
...Now I just hope it wasn't a fluke. Maybe the next time I go to put on the ring, it'll be back to its former slightly-tight status. If you hear a distant, furious scream ending in a sigh of defeat, you'll know my fingers have re-pudgified and that I will soon be defiantly stuffing my face with pepperoni pizza (in between gulps of Dr. Pepper). (g)
Seriously, though, I'm going to stick to my no-Coke diet for the foreseeable future-- and try to keep up with the exercise and (somewhat) healthier eating. Getting into the habit is the hard part. By comparison, staying there with it isn't so difficult.
Showing posts with label exercise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exercise. Show all posts
Friday, August 20, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
A Matter of Great Importance
I have to renew my driver's license this month.
This has brought up something of a mini-dilemma.
No, it's nothing to do with how to make sure the photo is decent this time. I've long since given up on that. I will look chubby, round-faced, remarkably unremarkable, and probably oily, no matter how carefully groomed and posed I am. But I guess that's ok. I hardly ever have occasion to show the horrid thing, and practically everyone's driver's license photo is awful, right?
No, the thing that's got me worried (or okay, not "worried" so much as "perplexed"... and not "perplexed" so much as "idly curious") is a weightier issue altogether. (Ha ha. "Weightier". The wit continues to sparkle.) You see, it's my weight.
As far as the great State of Alabama knows, my weight hasn't changed since I got my first driver's license at the age of eighteen. (I was a late bloomer, automotively speaking.) However, as far as I (and my clothes... and those who've been around me the last 10+ years) know, my weight actually has changed. That's right. I know it's hard to believe, but I don't really weigh a mere 115 pounds. (I hope I didn't shock any of you too much just then...) Honestly, I may not have weighed quite that little even at eighteen. Back then, I foolishly expected that they would weigh you and measure your height at the DMV, like they do at the doctor's office, so when the time came to fill out the paperwork, I had to guess.
I've had my license renewed a couple of times since then, but unless I'm remembering incorrectly, no-one ever comes right out and asks, "Is this your real weight?" They may ask if the address-type information is still correct, but they've never looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Um, ma'am, it says here you weigh 115 pounds... and since that's obviously not the case..." In brief, no-one has called me out for allowing the state to keep believing I'm skinny. It is perhaps unlikely that anyone ever will. (I wonder, though. At what point will they come out and gently suggest that maybe you weight closer to 400 pounds than 120?)
However. I don't see myself ever being 115 again. It probably wouldn't even be a healthy weight for me, at this point. I'd like to work my way down 20 pounds or so-- see where in that range is a good, healthy, maintainable weight for me, but that's going to take time. More than the week or two I have left to renew my license, certainly. (Darn it. Too bad it's not that quick and easy!)
So my dilemma is this-- Do I come right out and say something about it, this time? "Oh, by the way, my weight is wrong on the old card. I'm actually XYZ pounds, now." (And hope they won't notice what a big jump in numbers that is... (g)) Or do I keep quiet and let Alabama go on thinking I'm supermodel thin? ;o) I'm sure the workers (most of whom are women) can tell when a woman weighs more than her information says-- and most of them probably fudge the truth a little, themselves. (Doesn't everyone?)
Also, if I do decide to correct the number, how far should I go? I mean, I am trying to lose a little weight. If I tell them the exact number I am now, and then I succeed in losing 10 or 15 pounds (or more) in the next four years, I'll have to get them to change it again. (And I wouldn't want to create too much extra work for them, you know. That's the only reason I'd ever want to not tell them precisely how much I weigh at this very moment, of course.)
One way or the other, I'll have to decide soon. The old (hideous photo) license expires August 1st.
P.S. Oops. Accidentally hit "publish" before I was done. Sorry if you RSS-feed readers got this one twice!
This has brought up something of a mini-dilemma.
No, it's nothing to do with how to make sure the photo is decent this time. I've long since given up on that. I will look chubby, round-faced, remarkably unremarkable, and probably oily, no matter how carefully groomed and posed I am. But I guess that's ok. I hardly ever have occasion to show the horrid thing, and practically everyone's driver's license photo is awful, right?
No, the thing that's got me worried (or okay, not "worried" so much as "perplexed"... and not "perplexed" so much as "idly curious") is a weightier issue altogether. (Ha ha. "Weightier". The wit continues to sparkle.) You see, it's my weight.
As far as the great State of Alabama knows, my weight hasn't changed since I got my first driver's license at the age of eighteen. (I was a late bloomer, automotively speaking.) However, as far as I (and my clothes... and those who've been around me the last 10+ years) know, my weight actually has changed. That's right. I know it's hard to believe, but I don't really weigh a mere 115 pounds. (I hope I didn't shock any of you too much just then...) Honestly, I may not have weighed quite that little even at eighteen. Back then, I foolishly expected that they would weigh you and measure your height at the DMV, like they do at the doctor's office, so when the time came to fill out the paperwork, I had to guess.
I've had my license renewed a couple of times since then, but unless I'm remembering incorrectly, no-one ever comes right out and asks, "Is this your real weight?" They may ask if the address-type information is still correct, but they've never looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Um, ma'am, it says here you weigh 115 pounds... and since that's obviously not the case..." In brief, no-one has called me out for allowing the state to keep believing I'm skinny. It is perhaps unlikely that anyone ever will. (I wonder, though. At what point will they come out and gently suggest that maybe you weight closer to 400 pounds than 120?)
However. I don't see myself ever being 115 again. It probably wouldn't even be a healthy weight for me, at this point. I'd like to work my way down 20 pounds or so-- see where in that range is a good, healthy, maintainable weight for me, but that's going to take time. More than the week or two I have left to renew my license, certainly. (Darn it. Too bad it's not that quick and easy!)
So my dilemma is this-- Do I come right out and say something about it, this time? "Oh, by the way, my weight is wrong on the old card. I'm actually XYZ pounds, now." (And hope they won't notice what a big jump in numbers that is... (g)) Or do I keep quiet and let Alabama go on thinking I'm supermodel thin? ;o) I'm sure the workers (most of whom are women) can tell when a woman weighs more than her information says-- and most of them probably fudge the truth a little, themselves. (Doesn't everyone?)
Also, if I do decide to correct the number, how far should I go? I mean, I am trying to lose a little weight. If I tell them the exact number I am now, and then I succeed in losing 10 or 15 pounds (or more) in the next four years, I'll have to get them to change it again. (And I wouldn't want to create too much extra work for them, you know. That's the only reason I'd ever want to not tell them precisely how much I weigh at this very moment, of course.)
One way or the other, I'll have to decide soon. The old (hideous photo) license expires August 1st.
P.S. Oops. Accidentally hit "publish" before I was done. Sorry if you RSS-feed readers got this one twice!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I feel like I'm forgetting something. . . Oh, well!
I turned thirty over the weekend! This last year, I'd become increasingly conscious of the approach of the big 3-O, so I wasn't shocked when it finally arrived. Somehow, 30 seems less "awful" (if you know what I mean) than 29. I won't lie-- I don't feel thirty, and I can't really understand how I got here already (I mean, I was only 18 just a few years ago!)-- but at least now that it's here, I can finally let it slip further into the back of my mind. (I hope. (g))
Also: I was thoroughly spoiled by my family on Friday, and then by Donald on Saturday. (My actual birthday was on Saturday, but on Friday night we had a little get-together for my birthday and Mom's, which is later this week.) Thank you, everyone!
I've exercised (more than incidental exercise-- housework and our almost-daily walk to the pond) two days in a row, now, and I've also started limiting my soft drink in-take to one can a day. Two days of exercise is hardly something to brag about, but at least it's a step in the right direction. Of course, the hard part will be keeping it up. I guess the next step might be not buying more of my favorite colas, once I've drunk up what we have in the house. I don't think a can of Dr. Pepper or Mountain Dew a day is a terribly bad vice (g), but I don't need those extra calories (or the caffeine), and I'd probably be healthier if I just cut it out of my daily life and let it be an occasional treat instead of a daily habit. We'll see. . . I've cut the cola out of my diet before, but somehow it managed to sneak back in.
I've had the washing machine going for two days, now. (Well, ok, I'm not running it all night, and I did get a late start on it today. . .) That's a lot of laundry for a household of two (+ two dogs with their own doggy blankets and towels). Yesterday was mostly just our regular washing, which I always seem to do on Mondays. Today, I've started catching up on some of the "special" washing that's been piling up. Anything that doesn't get washed regularly or that needs special attention-- table cloths, decorative bits of fabric, gardening gloves, etc.-- usually gets left until later. "Later" sometimes ends up being months later. If I ever manage to work my way through all that stuff, I should regain the use of a few more laundry baskets, which ought to come in handy. ;o)
Also: I was thoroughly spoiled by my family on Friday, and then by Donald on Saturday. (My actual birthday was on Saturday, but on Friday night we had a little get-together for my birthday and Mom's, which is later this week.) Thank you, everyone!
- - - - - -
I've exercised (more than incidental exercise-- housework and our almost-daily walk to the pond) two days in a row, now, and I've also started limiting my soft drink in-take to one can a day. Two days of exercise is hardly something to brag about, but at least it's a step in the right direction. Of course, the hard part will be keeping it up. I guess the next step might be not buying more of my favorite colas, once I've drunk up what we have in the house. I don't think a can of Dr. Pepper or Mountain Dew a day is a terribly bad vice (g), but I don't need those extra calories (or the caffeine), and I'd probably be healthier if I just cut it out of my daily life and let it be an occasional treat instead of a daily habit. We'll see. . . I've cut the cola out of my diet before, but somehow it managed to sneak back in.
- - - - - -
I've had the washing machine going for two days, now. (Well, ok, I'm not running it all night, and I did get a late start on it today. . .) That's a lot of laundry for a household of two (+ two dogs with their own doggy blankets and towels). Yesterday was mostly just our regular washing, which I always seem to do on Mondays. Today, I've started catching up on some of the "special" washing that's been piling up. Anything that doesn't get washed regularly or that needs special attention-- table cloths, decorative bits of fabric, gardening gloves, etc.-- usually gets left until later. "Later" sometimes ends up being months later. If I ever manage to work my way through all that stuff, I should regain the use of a few more laundry baskets, which ought to come in handy. ;o)
Monday, September 22, 2008
Wasting a little time. . .
I'm typing so that I have an excuse for not washing dishes right away. ;o) Let's see if I can come up with enough to justify posting. . .
Today was Donald's first day of (non-freelance) work at home. He did go into town for a couple hours this morning, but most of the day's been work-from-home. Because this was the first day-- and because there's still a certain unsettled tentativeness to arrangements-- it's obviously too early to make many observations. However, I don't think I can go wrong by stating that not having to wake up at 6 a.m. every weekday is nice. (We set the alarm for 6:55, and I almost made it. I ended up getting up a few minutes before that.)
Donald's gotten into a routine of running, over the past several weeks.
When one half of a couple decides to get into better health by exercising, the other half is probably always somewhat torn. On one hand, you're happy that he's doing something good for himself. On the other hand, it brings into sharper focus the uncomfortable fact that you're not doing enough of that, yourself. (g)
You won't catch me running long distances without a very good reason. I can handle sprinting short distances-- or walking longer distances-- but running miles at a time? I can't see myself doing it for the long haul, unless my very life depended on it. (And even then, I think someone would have to keep reminding me: "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the candy bar in one hand and the remote control in the other. Get out there and run or you die!") So many runners say that they never thought they'd last, in the beginning, but now they look forward to it-- can't imagine life without it. (Obviously, running messes with your brain. ;o)) Maybe I'd love running, too, if I ever got into it, but right now, I find it extremely doubtful. Extremely.
(Back again after a while. I'm kind of disoriented, as far as this entry goes, but I'm going to finish it anyway!)
So, I don't want to run, but I would like to find something I can do instead. Preferably something that doesn't feel like a punishment (though that may be asking too much). I think I'd like dancing (in the privacy of my home). . . Maybe a type of aerobics that incorporates dance moves-- or at least can be set to music with a decent beat. Just something to make exercise a little more interesting than "get from Point A to Point B in X minutes".
This morning I spent some time on the stationary bike. At first, I tried reading, but it wasn't enough of a distraction. I kept wanting to either put the book down or just be still so I could focus on the words in front of me. Maybe the fact that I was starting a new book-- still trying to tack down the basics of who's who-- made things worse, but I'm not sure I can focus on a book while I'm biking, even under better circumstances. Finally I just switched on the TV and watched the antics of the Cosby family. TV's a pretty good distraction. Music can be, too, but it has to be the right kind. . . Books on tape might work, if I can keep focused on what's happening.
Anyway, we'll see how it goes.
So, if I got up 45 minutes or so later than usual (for a Monday morning), how come I'm sleepy earlier than normal, tonight?
~~ ~~ ~~
Today was Donald's first day of (non-freelance) work at home. He did go into town for a couple hours this morning, but most of the day's been work-from-home. Because this was the first day-- and because there's still a certain unsettled tentativeness to arrangements-- it's obviously too early to make many observations. However, I don't think I can go wrong by stating that not having to wake up at 6 a.m. every weekday is nice. (We set the alarm for 6:55, and I almost made it. I ended up getting up a few minutes before that.)
~~ ~~ ~~
Donald's gotten into a routine of running, over the past several weeks.
When one half of a couple decides to get into better health by exercising, the other half is probably always somewhat torn. On one hand, you're happy that he's doing something good for himself. On the other hand, it brings into sharper focus the uncomfortable fact that you're not doing enough of that, yourself. (g)
You won't catch me running long distances without a very good reason. I can handle sprinting short distances-- or walking longer distances-- but running miles at a time? I can't see myself doing it for the long haul, unless my very life depended on it. (And even then, I think someone would have to keep reminding me: "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the candy bar in one hand and the remote control in the other. Get out there and run or you die!") So many runners say that they never thought they'd last, in the beginning, but now they look forward to it-- can't imagine life without it. (Obviously, running messes with your brain. ;o)) Maybe I'd love running, too, if I ever got into it, but right now, I find it extremely doubtful. Extremely.
(Back again after a while. I'm kind of disoriented, as far as this entry goes, but I'm going to finish it anyway!)
So, I don't want to run, but I would like to find something I can do instead. Preferably something that doesn't feel like a punishment (though that may be asking too much). I think I'd like dancing (in the privacy of my home). . . Maybe a type of aerobics that incorporates dance moves-- or at least can be set to music with a decent beat. Just something to make exercise a little more interesting than "get from Point A to Point B in X minutes".
This morning I spent some time on the stationary bike. At first, I tried reading, but it wasn't enough of a distraction. I kept wanting to either put the book down or just be still so I could focus on the words in front of me. Maybe the fact that I was starting a new book-- still trying to tack down the basics of who's who-- made things worse, but I'm not sure I can focus on a book while I'm biking, even under better circumstances. Finally I just switched on the TV and watched the antics of the Cosby family. TV's a pretty good distraction. Music can be, too, but it has to be the right kind. . . Books on tape might work, if I can keep focused on what's happening.
Anyway, we'll see how it goes.
~~ ~~ ~~
So, if I got up 45 minutes or so later than usual (for a Monday morning), how come I'm sleepy earlier than normal, tonight?
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