Sticking to the Point

Wellness Wednesday :: keeping it real

I've been on a roll. I decided to join my friend L in a 12 week workout program that has clicked for me. Isn't it funny how that is? You know something, want it for yourself, but find the inability to commit?

I've also cleaned up my diet. A lot. And it's starting to show. My clothes are fitting better, the muffin top has diminished and I actually have liked my stomach on a few occasions in the mirror.

I still have a wicked sugar tooth; the bane of my existence. Mostly, I keep it in control. Most days, I reach for treats that aren't triggers and I can resist the items that aren't.

Monday wasn't that day.  The list below wasn't in one sitting. Spread out from noon until about 10pm when I went to bed, this is what I had, in between the regular 3 square.

• (2) red velvet cupcakes, one after the other.
• (2) ice cream sandwiches, again, one after the other.
• countless starburst squares through out the afternoon and even into the evening.
• a handful of chocolates, the small, sports ball-shaped ones from a goody bag of Miss A's.
• (4) cadbury creme eggs, again one after the other.

One would think I'd have had a sugar crash and passed out for the night, instead my nightcap for the evening, an apple martini.

Every day is a new one and sometimes, you just need a binge. Instead of letting my binge derail me, I went to the gym. Nothing excessive, but I swear as I sweat I smelled caramel.

Provide, Provide :: ask and you shall receive

My body and I,  we haven't been the best of friends  for the past few years.  I haven't recognized her most days; the body I've lived in, hasn't felt like me.

I told myself it was all good.  The 6 extra pounds I'd accumulated since I'd lost my baby weight 5 years ago didn't really effect my day to day. Besides, I could lose the 6 pounds whenever I wanted, I just didn't want to. 

A combination of sweeties and cocktails during the holidays packed on 8 additional, pounds and by the new year, I wasn't able to stuff myself into  "too tight from water weight" (ahem),  clothing any longer.

There's a big desire for me to turn off comments. I know no one wants to listen to the skinny girl whine about her body.  And maybe there are aspects of that here: the old bitch that lost her sparkle, the cheerleader who can't let her glory days go. Vanity is my sin.

It's so much more than that, although I'd be lying if I said it wasn't about looking good. I have felt gross in my skin for so long and yet I've allowed myself to feel victimized. Unwilling to accept that my body is changing. That my metabolism is slowing down. That I have to watch what I eat;  not only to maintain my weight, but to alleviate a newly sensitive digestive system that can't handle too much of anything. Excess sends my body into havoc and the price my friends, isn't worth it.

5 weeks ago, I decided it was time to change. Slowly, correctly, I began to lose weight. Having the flu last week greatly diminished my appetite, and now on the other side of illness, (please let that be true), I've found it easy to be more disciplined.

I can see glimpses of my body returning after a long absence.

Cheek bones and collar bones. 

My pants hanging looser about my hips.

No muffin top.

Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Those words didn't mean much to me until recently. Instead of a fugue state while eating, I'm conscious of what goes in.

If I want Bailey's and Vodka I have it. But it's not on the heels of a sugar binge or stuffing myself at dinner with seconds.

Despite appearances, I'm quite petite. That's the first thing you'll notice about me, that I'm not so tall after all. My bones are small and I identify with myself on the thin side of thin.

I'm beginning to see me again and I like what I see. An old familiar face looks back at me, resonating a confidence that I worried might be my past.

Hello Kiki, it's nice to see you again.  You've been missed.

Provide, Provide

The witch that came (the withered hag),

To wash the steps with pail and rag,

was once the beauty Abishag,

The picture pride of Hollywood.

Too many fall from great and good

For you to doubt the likelihood.

Die early and avoid the fate.

Or if predestined to die late,

Make up your mind to die in state.

Make the whole stock exchange your own!

If need be occupy your throne,

Where nobody can call you crone.

Some have relied on what they knew;

Others on simply being true.

What worked for them might work for you.

No memory of having starred,

Atones for later disregard,

Or keeps the end from being hard.

Better to go down dignified

With boughten friendship at your side

Than none at all. Provide! Provide!

-Robert Frost

Wellness Wednesday :: taking care of business

About mid-October I began to really take a look at myself and I didn't like what I saw. My skin was a mess. I'd gained weight and I'd stopped exercising. Wallowing in self-pity, it took until the end of October and a ridiculous binge on Halloween candy, for me to make a commitment to change.

I began to eat better. I changed my eating habits so that I wouldn't have to torture myself with dieting any longer. Because I've been injured and not skating, I joined a gym, rehabing my injuries and working to get back into shape. I researched skin care lines, finding one that works best with my combination skin.

I threw out old makeup and I went through my closet, cleaning out items that no longer fit or suit me. I made a commitment to make regular waxing appointments and to dye my hair.

Nothing on the outside will shine if the interior is dusty. I began to work on myself, whittling away at the crap cluttering my brain, so I could discover my core desires. By being honest with myself, I'm becoming clear with what I want in my relationships, both professionally and personally.

I've begun the Artists' Way with a friend far and a friend near. I want to realize my creativity and see where it takes me. I want to embrace the artistic side of me that I've let lie dormant for years. When I worked the Finding Water book, I discovered a love of photography. I'm curious and excited by the possibilities that this journey will discover.

I am impatient and struggle with frustration out of a desire for quick results. Any worthwhile change comes slowly - I didn't get to this point overnight, sometimes it's hard to remember that.

I am a work in progress. Slow and steady wins my game.

Sciatic-ass

Luzie knows about my problem. Every single day of her visit, I complained about it. And Luzie hasn't been in the tri-state area for 3 weeks. I have a sports-related injury. I have sciatica.

Sometime mid-July, after reading one of the many fashion/lifestyle magazines that I subscribe to collect, I decided that my 40-something self needed to ramp up my exercise. I'd been skating twice a week but it wasn't enough. I wanted firm. I wanted definition. I wanted to see results. And everything I read said that a woman of my age needs exercise five times a week. (We're going to pretend there isn't the added equation of food and portion control, ahem.) I went to the gym. I did cardio and weights. I stretched and I started to see results.

Number 79 on my list of 101 was to begin a yoga practice. Having had good results with the stretching aspects of yoga for chronic sports-related ailments, I decided to go back to a vinyasa class at work that I love. Not exactly therapeutic poses in vinyasa. And being the competitive beast that I am, (even if it's just me and my mat), I pushed myself deeper into poses, locking fingers on a few twists just because I could. One of those chronic, sports-related ailments was sciatic pain in my hamstrings and hips. I'd stretch through it, maybe apply heat, it was all good. Not wanting to miss derby practice the next night, I went without giving my body a break in between yoga and skating. Less than 24 hours later, I trained my lower body again and so began the achy dance of pain radiating from booty to knee and back again. A nagging ache that sits like a rock against your bum so you never feel comfortable, especially seated.

It always passes this nagging pain, so I took a break from skating and I stretched. I stuck myself (a sight for sore eyes to be certain), and I got a massage. I saw my MD/DO. And I still have sciatic-ass all the live-long day. I've had slight relief but never for long. Finally, I went for acupuncture. I know. I KNOW. It's not that I don't believe it will work, quite the contrary. But I have this thing. I don't like to pay for acupuncture. Why I think it should be free to me is ridiculous. Enough was enough and I scheduled an appointment with my friend and mentor.

Arriving for your first visit of acupuncture, you fill out endless paperwork and then you have a sit-down. You talk about your body from head to toe, in a manner unfamiliar in the allopathic world. We covered my chief complaint and we talked about other issues, namely my raging PMS and wacked-out hormones. I blame perimenopause, my acupuncturist blames sugar. Sugar? Yes, sugar.

Unbeknownst to all of you, I'm a rabid sugar fiend. Remember Pecker and the sister, Little Chrissy, who sits on the counter scooping white sugar into her mouth? Perhaps not that extreme, but over a given day, the quantity is comparable. The plummeting energy levels, the extreme exhaustion at the end of the day, the cravings for refined carbohydrates...it all relates back to the glycemic index and how I'm abusing it. Continuing down this sticky path, I'm leading the way towards insulin resistance and a fat gut. Dude, I know all this. But it's an addiction. I placate myself with sugar and the more I eat, the more I want. A viscious cycle.

Shockingly, my acupuncturist recommended the South Beach Diet. Not for weight loss but to kill my sugar cravings once and for all. And it's taking me a good long while to get my head around that concept. Because I've read about the diet and I'm so not the diet following type. In fact, I usually go to the extreme opposite when I've tried formal diets in the past. The restrictions get to me and I binge. This time might be different. I'm not trying to lose weight, I'm trying to help myself and it feels different. I haven't started the diet yet. I'm not even sure I'm going to, the jury is still out. But I'm thinking about it and researching the facts and I'm actually surprised that I think it just might make sense for me. Stay tuned.

And the sciatic-ass? The jury is still out there too. I've had two treatments where I was stuck from hip to ankle with fine needles in my backside. I've been hooked up to the e-stim machine*. And I still have pain. I also have faith in my medicine and even if the sciatica doesn't dissipate (please don't let that be the case), I can thank my guru for the nasty bag of herbs that I take twice daily.

The rank-tasting, brownish muck will wipe out my PMS and while I might still be a gimp, I certainly won't be cranky.

*electro-current that conducts through the needles, similar to the electro pads at the physical therapist.