The fitness post

A few weeks ago, I met and exceeded my original weight loss goal, which was a very inexact target of where I thought I wanted to end up.  I've dropped 35 pounds (of fat, though I've gained so much muscle).  When I initially started this process, I intended to reach my goal weight and then adjust my workouts from 6 days a week down to 4, or even 3 days a week.  How much things have changed in a few short months!  I generally work out for about an hour each day, seven days a week.  If something comes up and I don't have time to get my full workout in, I feel a loss and miss it.  Still, it's not always easy to get started each night--especially when it's 8 pm, hot as hell,  and I've had a long day working or gardening.

I am not anywhere near considering cutting back my workouts at this point--I have spent more time thinking about how I could squeeze more activity into my days, rather than cutting it back.  I have a series of videos that I do six days a week, and they focus on strength and cardio, using high intensity interval training.  I enjoy most of the workouts, and there are so many different ones that I don't get bored.  I absolutely love trying to push myself a little farther each time and have so enjoyed seeing the changes in my body and feeling very strong.  One day a week, my workout is Bhangra dancing, and that is a lot of fun, too.  It is getting easier now that my feet are starting to build the necessary calluses, instead of blistering every week!

This is going to sound very dualistic, though I am definitely not a dualist.  My body and I haven't had a good relationship for a very long time.  Throughout my 30's my health issues became more and more severe, leaving me in pain, frustration, and anger.  As my health degraded, I became more resentful of my body, and refused to care for it or treat it well, because it was weak and not supporting me in the way I wanted it to.  I realize that doesn't seem like the most logical approach, and it's not, but when my body is weak, it infuriates me and makes me want to punish the uncooperative body.  I've always been much more connected with my brain than my body, so it was easy for me to reach the point of wrapping myself up completely in my brain and brain-based activities, while alternately ignoring/resenting the defective "pile of meat" that my brain was forced to drag around with it.  That outlook and lifestyle only served to make the problems worse.   

The last five months has taken so much work but has been so worth it for the reintegration of my brain with my body.  We have a good, healthy relationship going on now.  It has been so long since I've felt well and seen my body as a competent, useful piece of equipment rather than a hindrance, that I only vaguely remember it.  Body work is much harder and less enjoyable for me than brain work, though now I enjoy working with and using my body more than I ever have.  I feel so much better about myself and life in general now.

It's that distance between me and my body that allowed all the extra weight to pile on without me really noticing.  We never had a scale in the house.  Neither Mark nor I were worried about being skinny or sticking at a particular weight, and we thought it better for the girls to not have a scale around for them to obsess over.  I figured that my clothing would indicate if I was gaining too much weight, and since I had only gone up one size (which I have now learned is a result of vanity sizing--ugh!), I wasn't all that worried about it.

When I started this process several months ago, I never anticipated that there would be any negatives to achieving my goals, but there are.  In my mind, I saw myself losing the fat, getting fit and healthy, and looking so much better in my clothes.  I planned to reward myself with a few nice outfits once I reached my goal. Just as I didn't notice the amount of weight I had put on, I didn't have an accurate idea of how much different my body would be after that loss.  None of my clothes fit.  Some are so big that they simply can't be made to work; some I have been able to alter to fit, though my seamstress skills are quite rudimentary.  I have been a bit depressed over the clothing situation.  I need an entirely new wardrobe but don't have the money for a new wardrobe, let alone one that would replace what I had.  I really, really like my clothes.  For several years, I have only bought/kept clothes that I absolutely love and feel happy in.  I miss those clothes!

Even items like underwear, bras, and my swimsuit had to be replaced as everything falls off, and that gets quickly expensive.  I have a very paltry wardrobe and am working on trying to fill in the functional necessities.  It will be a very long time before I can build up a wardrobe of the size and quality of the one I had, and that makes me sad.  It also seems that lately, when I try to shop for this body, I keep finding clothing/styles that work well for my old body, but not that great for this one.  There are times that I actually miss my old body (which I still think looked better in dresses than this very slim, muscular body does), and I certainly wasn't expecting any weird feelings like that.  It's been very interesting to me to analyze my thoughts and feelings through this whole process.  

Despite the wardrobe issues and the occasional longing to look better in a dress, there is absolutely no comparison between the quality of life before being healthy and fit and the quality of my life (and energy) now.  It's hard not to proselytize to everybody about the need to become fit and active, though I try to keep my mouth shut as I know that can be very irritating.

L tends to be very much like me in preferring brain-based activities to body-based activities, and I have instituted a so-far unpopular rule that she must be active every day for at least a half hour.  She can go for a dog walk, dance, or workout with me or on her own, but she needs movement every day.  I want to prevent her from my bad/unhealthy choices and get her on a path that will keep her strong and healthy throughout her life.  I'm hoping that eventually she will start to enjoy it as I have, though so far there is absolutely no danger of that happening.  

A few weeks ago, my brother-in-law was here visiting, and Mark drafted him to help put up the newest set of three cat wall climber shelves.  We now have a total of six shelves in our bedroom, and they are almost always in use.  Vertical space is definitely the key to peace in this house!  Most of the photos are of various cats enjoying their shelves.  The short video is of Tica, who like Jasper, loves to scramble and skitter across, around, over, and under the shelves.  They are so cute and acrobatic-looking.