Wednesday, December 23, 2009

I Hate Thinking of Titles for Posts

I don't watch the Biggest Loser religiously. Mostly because EVERY SINGLE episode makes me cry (which equals Andrew making fun of me in weepy voices), sort of because it makes me feel like a fat, lazy slob, and only a little bit because it makes me super jealous that these people can lose 100 pounds in the time that it (hasn't) taken me to lose 20.

But last night I caught the "Biggest Loser, Where are They Now" show and I have to admit that while I did cry a little bit, it was actually pretty inspiring (and relieving).
It was inspiring to see how many contestants have taken on fitness for OTHER people. So many are trainers, coaches and fitness instructors now. It was really cool to know that they took what they learned and then passed it on, making sure the cycle doesn't stop. I really dig this about the way the show changes lives. It seems hokey on tv, but when the cameras are off and everyone goes back home, its nice to know that the impact continues.
It was relieving at the same time to see that many of the contestants have gained some weight back. I don't know if you caught this season's finale, but at least two of the contestants (ahem Rebecca and Tracy) looked flat out disgusting. As in, lay off the roids, disgusting. They looked so unnatural and dare I say, almost unhealthy?
So its nice to see that even with extreme weight loss, people still find their "happy weight." I mean, while they're on the show, they're trying to win money. That alone I'm sure drives people to weird eating and over exercising (one contestant said she works out 6 HOURS a DAY! SIX?! Seriously?! Doesn't she have a JOB?)

But when all is said and done, it is relieving to see that people can put on a few pounds, enjoy their lives and still be fit. That's what its all about, after all. MAINTENANCE. Enjoying life. NOT obsessing.

Which brings me to the reason that I'm posting this (FINALLY!) As I was watching last night, one of the former contestants was competing in the Kona Ironman (hard.core.) but he had put on some weight and wanted to do it to really prove to himself that he could. He finished dead last. But he finished. And I was totally inspired and jazzed by him saying "sometimes you just have to push yourself beyond what you think you can do just so you can see that you can, in fact, do what you thought you never could" (that's not a direct quote, i paraphrase).
So I decided to take his mentality to the gym with me today. I'm still recovering from surgery but have been cleared to run. So I still have some physical limitations that I'm struggling with. Like not being able to put my hand behind my head to do a sit-up (I didn't know it meant that much to me until now).
Anyhow, I got on the treadmill and just started going. My goal was 5 miles, which is half of the Broad Street Run that I intend to do in April. Everytime I felt an ache (every 40 seconds, basically), I remembered this contestant(who weighs 273 pounds, by the way) doing a FUCKING IRONMAN! I said to myself "you can absolutely do this. The only reason you don't is because you let aches and pains stop you." (Side note: I know that aches and pains mean your body is telling you something and I almost always pay attention, but this was about pushing myself so I worked through them. I do not advocate doing this all the time.)
And that was it. I talked myself through every instance of wanting to just get off. I slowed down for a bit and that's okay. I didn't stop running. And 55 minutes later, I was done. I didn't fall apart, I didn't die, I didn't even take more than a few minutes to get my heart rate back down to resting (which is good but means I didn't push hard enough).

I have really been thinking a lot about what stops us. Why do we decide to quit after 30 minutes and not do 10 more? Why do we skip that extra set of reps? Are we just lazy? Afraid we'll fail? (my trainer says, by the way, that lifting to failure is a good thing sometimes. Its still weird to hear him say "do reps until you fail" though).
What stops us??

My biggest stoppers are:
time (when I'm rushed and squeezing my workout in)
hunger (if I know I have a meal waiting)
just plain laziness (where I promise myself I'll do more tomorrow)
aches and pains (my knee, my back, my name it, it hurts)

What stops you from pushing a little harder? Running an extra mile? Lifting an extra 10 pounds?
And what would it take for you to not be stopped?

Friday, December 11, 2009

I Could Get Used to This

For the past week, while I have been "recovering" from my surgery, my doting fiance' has done (literally) all of the housework.
I have not so much as folded a piece of laundry (although I did carry some downstairs), washed a dish, or lifted any object weighing more than 16 ounces.

The best part: he's actually secretly VERY GOOD at housework.
This is the man who puts his dirty clothes on the floor IN FRONT OF the laundry basket, and occasionally ONTOP of a basket of clean clothes, and leaves piles of dishes in the sink (to do "later") and considers Roomba a valid substitute for vacuuming (its not. Roomba always dies mid floor sweep. And in random, hard to find places, too.)

So I was just tickled this morning to have this conversation:

Him: Are those your clothes on the bathroom floor?

Me: Probably. What would you like me to do with them?

Him: Well, if they're dirty, you should pick them up and put them in the laundry basket where they belong.

(the clothes were on the floor in front of the basket)

It was the moment when our experience of living together had finally come full circle.

All of that aside, I couldn't ask for a better partner in crime. He really has been comforting and helpful (I can't even hook my own bras) and just all around incredible. I am the luckiest girl there is (named Becky. In Philadelphia.)

Even though his secret domesticity is out, I have a sinking feeling this reversal of roles is all too fleeting.

I may have to drag out this injury a little longer...

Monday, December 07, 2009

One Armed Blogging

You have no idea how long it took me to write this, bloggies.

I am officially a gimp, one armed, helpless human being. I hadz my surgery last week and leave it to me to be the one person who goes in for outpatient surgery (in and out, they say) and ends up staying the night in the hospital. Which sucks, btw. Not only did I miss GLEE (thank you drug induced dizzy haze), but I got woken up every hour to have my "vitals" taken. Dude. I came in for elbow surgery. The anasthesia made me puke a lot. But aside from being overly sensitive to fun drugs and embarrassed that my ability (or inability) to pee was not up to standards, I was not dead. There was really no reason to even think that I would be.

Side note: my doctor told me when I came out of surgery I was telling everyone that I was a rockstar. Not sure where I got THAT idea.

So here is my post. I'm too tired to write more. This took long enough already.
Later, gators.