It's 3 o'clock in the morning on Friday, November 18, 2011. I have spent a majority of this month either being disappointed, frustrated, or angry with almost everyone with whom I've come in contact. I'm fighting off some kind of cold or flu thing that just doesn't want to go away. My energy level is ok, but my pain is through the roof. I think all of this is connected, whether it's the pain causing the other stuff, or the other stuff causing the pain, but either way, I have to find a way to make it stop.
I finally started exercising again. I didn't work out at all for probably a month or two. I told myself (and everyone else) that it was because of my pain and energy levels, which is part of it, but I'm in pain right now and I'm exercising anyway. My routine is 35 minutes on the stationary bike, with free weights and my imitation Thighmaster for my arms and legs, and the stability ball for my core, every other day. About half the time, I do all of this begrudgingly, whining and complaining until I'm finished. Sometimes I feel better afterward, sometimes I feel worse, but I'm doing it, and I'm determined to keep with it this time. My mistake earlier this year was that I allowed myself to use the excuse of losing a bad friend and my dad going nucking futs to stop trying to get fit (which we all know means get thin). Half of the time, I'm perfectly content being overweight. I know that my body has always been just a little larger than my classmates. When I'm alone, I don't mind being overweight. Sometimes, I catch myself poking and squishing my blubber (hey, it's as good a word as any) when I'm on the computer or watching TV or reading, and I like the feel of it. I like eating, and cooking, and smelling food. When I see what other people eat to lose weight, I wrinkle my nose and think "Well, if that's what it takes to be skinny, count me out!". The other half of the time, though, I hate what I see in the mirror. I hate getting comments from other people on how if I just exercised and ate less, things would be better for me. Really? I hadn't thought of that! Thank you for opening my eyes! As though I haven't done just that. Last year, I was working out three days a week with my friend, and two days a week at home. I had a strict 1200 calorie a day food plan, and I tracked every single morsel that went into my mouth for seven months, whether it was a cashew or a chicken dinner, a glass of milk or a diet soda. It took me that whole seven months to lose a mere 24lbs (and for the record, my pain was worse after the weight loss if anything). So many other people who follow a similar system have lost 50lbs in the same amount of time. I don't get it... but I digress. This time around, I'm not going to follow my daily calorie intake per se, I'm just going to follow the food recommendations of a health and fitness guy, and I'm going to keep on truckin' with my current exercise plan. Most importantly, I'm going to work on my attitude. While I still don't want to be skinny, I do want to look good. I want to feel less bloated. I want to be able to not worry about my IBS flaring up because I ate something bad for me.
Writer's block has hit me with a vengeance. I'm not sure what's causing it this time. Probably stress. Which is why I am on here, spilling my guts on the internet. I need to get in the habit of writing again, and I'm sure the writer's block will start melting away. In the meantime, I've been working on sewing projects. I made my Halloween costume (a saloon girl)
