At Peace

Last week was such a great week for me in so many ways. All my demons were tested and brought out early in the week when what I thought was my "dream house" slipped out of my reach. I forced myself to get over it, and somehow I ended up finding the root cause to why I am here today. Why I'm holding onto many excess pounds, and once again trying to shed them. The revelation was so great, and so freeing, I have been literally walking on clouds ever since I typed it out.

On Saturday, we looked at more houses, and found some good ones- all is not lost, we will find our house! I got together with my friends and played some good competitive sports, I have great friends. Then, there was my run on Sunday. Wow. It was phenomenal. It came with such ease, and the whole time I kept thinking about how not that long ago, this run, this feeling, was impossible to achieve. I didn't stop at my normal stopping point, I kept on pushing, and kept making my run longer and harder as I went on. The weather was nice. I was feeling good, why not just keep pushing? I ran down to the community college, found some stairs, and began running up and down the stairs. I told myself I was going to do 5 sets. I ended up doing 10. Running up and down 10 flights of stairs after a 35 minute run? WHO WAS I?

This morning I weighed in, and finally, I have a loss! After gaining one week, then losing the gain and nothing more the next week, I have lost one more pound! I haven't reached the big 2-0 loss yet, but soon.

I also decided this morning, that I will be registering for the Seattle Rock n' Roll Half Marathon today. The race take place on June 26th. Last year I ran in it, and it was my first half marathon. I thought about training, but it just never happened. I still completed the race. I am in a much better position this year to begin a training regimen, and even if I don't make it as far as I want, I know that I will still be able to finish because I did last year with no training and at least 20 more pounds on my body! I'm sad that I don't have a buddy to sign up with me this year, but hey, during the race I'm going to be on my own anyway.

Bad Ass=Fat Ass

Ok, ok, ok. Scratch EVERYTHING I wrote yesterday in my attempt to fill Jack Sh*t's request of the WHY. I was put on the spot (only by myself), didn't have the proper time to think about it, and as I have done nearly all my life, I thought of the perfect thing to say after I had already said something.

Even yesterday as I really was trying to explore the WHY, I knew what was coming out just wasn't quite right. Sure, it may have sounded good, but I knew it wasn't the true WHY because I could not stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. I thought about it this morning as I was running around Greenlake. Nothing was coming to me, yet, I was still unsatisfied with my WHY's of yesterday.

When I got back to my car after my run (which, get this, was TO THE SECOND the same time it took me last week...how weird is that?) I had a voicemail from my co-worker. I was too sweaty/lightheaded/weak/nauseous to listen to it, because I could already imagine what it was going to be like. Since this was the morning after St. Patrick's Day, I'm sure she was hung over, and either calling in sick, or calling to tell me some stupid story about last night. Once I caught my breath and cooled down a bit, I called her. Our conversation went like this:

A9: What are you doing?
Me: Just got done running Greenlake.
A9: That's cool. I was wondering if you wanted to bring me food, but probably not today since you are all healthy and shit.
Me: I either run or go to the gym every morning.
A9: *Some stupid story about last night that I could care less about*
Me: So, I'm stopping at the grocery store Starbucks, what do you want to eat?
A9: I don't know. What do you want?
Me: Sigh...um, I have to get gas now. Call me if you decide you WANT something.
A9: Fine.

So as I was driving to work, I began thinking of all the things I could get to eat at the grocery store instead of eating the packet of oatmeal I brought. I began rationalizing it, by telling myself I just went running, and blah, blah. Then I would feel bad because I just told myself I was going to be good. This fight went on in my head for about three minutes. Then I stopped. I took a step outside of this conversation, and searched for the WHY.

Why did my co-worker suggesting I bring her food start me down the path of destruction? Why did I feel I could justify eating a bagel, a muffin, or donuts? Why couldn't I get the idea of eating something bad out of my head? I mean, this is the same fight that I have with myself ALL the time. The food, 8 times out of 10 wins (obviously) or I wouldn't be here.

Ready for this? It dawned on me. Just like all the other mini-epiphanies I've had over the past 11 weeks, it hit me like a ton of bricks. If the sun hadn't been out shining in the cloudless sky today, I'm sure the clouds would have parted for this. This is BY FAR the best revelation I've ever had about myself, and WHY I am the way I am.

Ok, to delve into this requires a little background on my personality and my upbringing. I have ALWAYS been a rebellious person. Ever since I can remember I have always been trying to fight something. Telling me not to do something is almost a guarantee that I will do that said thing. I'm always looking for ways around the rules, instigating stuff.

Just about my whole life, I have been told that food is bad. Eating too much is bad. Certain foods are bad. When you are overweight, being seen eating is bad. Bad, bad, bad. Food and eating have this whole "forbidden" quality to me. At the same time, everything in my house growing up revolved around food. Nothing could happen until we knew what the menu was. Celebrations were food, tragedy's were food. Everything was food, yet food was bad.

So, what does a rebellious person do when they learn that food is bad? What do they do when they know they are overweight and eating certain foods is bad? I GET A THRILL (a high) OFF EATING BAD FOOD BECAUSE I KNOW I SHOULDN'T BE EATING IT, THEREFORE I FEEL LIKE A BADASS. I buy food that I know I shouldn't eat, and eat it because I'm not supposed to. I make delicious cakes and cookies and other stuff because I know its not what my boyfriend/mom/dad/whoever wants me to do. Sometimes I hide my horrible eating like some naughty secret. This is how I satisfy my need to be rebellious? By eating horrible food for me, and eating in excess? Wow. Well, me being a "bad ass" has made me a fat ass.

Some people cheat on their husbands/wives/partners. Some people get drunk and do silly things. Some people jump off cliffs in winged suits. Some people smoke cigarettes or inject drugs. Some people lie all the time. Me? I eat bad food. Lol. It is almost comical. This is how I've been defeating myself all these years? By making food taboo, by making food "bad" I was creating this fake world where I was a rebel, doing what I want, eating what I want. For what? To prove what? That I could get fat? That I could hide eating food from people (and somehow they would have no idea, even though my ass is huge)? Oooh...go me, so tough.

Well now that I've figured this out, I feel like an idiot and a genius all at once. I feel so free, like I just found the cure to lifelong happiness. The jig is up, my friends! Secret eating, over-eating, and bad food eating does not make me a bad-ass, it only makes me a fat-ass!

Jack Wants to Know Why

Last week, one of my favorite bloggers in this genre (Jack Sh*t) held a "give away." Apparently give aways are popular on these types of blogs, as authors tend to get free stuff for being successful and having a following, and they hold a contest to spread the motivation, and loot. Anyway, over at Jack Sh*t Gettin' Fit he held this give away. I entered by submitting a comment (if you scroll down real far, you can see the comment by Vb). With nearly 200 people commenting, I didn't think I had a chance in hell, but it was fun.

A week later, Jack announced the winners here. I was the VERY last runner up! OMG OMG OMG!!! I immediately sent Jack an e-mail with my information, and told him it better not be some sort of scam where I end up with a dissected frog or old man pubes (I don't even know where you can find old man pubes these days). I was trying to think of the grossest things anyone could send me...I hope I didn't offend him (cause, he doesn't know me) he didn't write me back. Anyway, if I do end up getting something from his desk, I will be sure to post a picture, and stick it on the fridge anyway as a reminder.

Today, checking into his blog like I always do, he had a request for blog posts. He wants to know the "why." Why I am the way I am. Why am I here. Why now. Why why why. I have been running short on material lately, so I figured I'd take the time and explore the Why.

Well, initially I thought this was easy to answer: I spent too long eating more calories then I was burning. Then I realized that was more of a HOW then a WHY.

So I dug deeper: I love eating more then I love exercising. Hmmm...no, that doesn't seem right. I do love eating, but I love exercising too. Never once have I regretted exercising. I can't say the same for eating.

Ok...deeper still: I am afraid to be the person I know I can be. This is plausible. But also sounds like cookie-cutter garbage straight out of Jillian Michaels mouth. Carrying around a little extra weight is comfortable to me. Its what I know. Oh, wait, and maybe most important, it always gives me an excuse/escape. Fat people LOVE excuses.

Perhaps why I'm here is fear of the unknown. Fear of what I may be like or how things will be different if I was ever normal size. I spent a few years ALMOST at "normal size" in college, but they were practically wasted because I was never able to see myself that way. I look back at photos now, and think, damn...I was so close. But I remember being there, and still seeing a fatty looking back at me in the mirror. Things would surprise me, like when slender people would want to trade clothes with me, or people I thought were really in shape would be intimidated to go for a run with me! But somehow, it never clicked how close I was.

I remember, each day after class, I would head out for my run, and I would run past this old man. He must've been like 80 or 90. He would be walking with his cane, and as he saw me jogging towards him, he would lift his cane, shake it at me, and say in his shaky old man voice "you're gonna get real skinny!" It would always make me smile. But maybe subconsciously it also scared me? Who knows.

All I know is that when I graduated college and moved to a new town, I slowly gained all my progress back to build back that cushion, and be comfortable again. Funny how being so uncomfortably fat can make someone comfortable.

Know When to Hold 'em, Know When to Fold 'em

Sorry in advance for this post. It does not discuss my progress, or have anything motivational in it. It's me, throwing a fit like a two year old about not getting things I want. If that doesn't interest you, check back tomorrow and hopefully I will have calmed down.


In my dream last night, Dave and I were viewing the house we just put an offer in on for the 3rd time. Our offer was on the table, but there were other people at the house checking it out. They offered nearly double what the asking price is. I shouted "you can't do that! It has to appraise!" I woke up in a cold sweat. Happy that there wasn't another offer on it, but incredibly sad knowing that our offer was basically garbage.

Clearly I'm a little shaken and stressed by this whole house buying/offer thing. Right now my confidence is at about zero. Especially as this is happening so soon after the negotiations over the job in California. As much as I am happy about sticking to my guns and not accepting a low salary offer, I will always wonder if that would have been the better thing for me to do.

Yesterday, our offer on the AMAZING house was rejected. Not even a counter-offer. Just flat out rejection. I know our offer was low. We absolutely can not offer any more, we are topped out at our limit. But we are so close. Like, if we had $7,000 more dollars, it would work. What is $7,000 when you are looking at nearly $300,000? Its a drop in the bucket.

So, maybe that's my fault for looking at and falling in love with a house that is out of my price range. I'm leaning more towards I suck at negotiations and am too fucking stubborn for my own good. This house is awesome, we've been looking for a year, we qualify for the tax credit, rates are low, we found a renter, what is the problem?!

Of course there are other places. The seller is clearly not ready to let go of the house. We don't want to over extend ourselves. Blah, blah, blah. I want that fucking house! I want all my stuff back that has been in storage for a year. I want to be out of my 500 square foot condo. I want a yard to garden in. I want to fix stuff, paint stuff, own stuff.

The saddest thing is that I have to let go. It really is out of my hands at this point. No amount of wanting it can make it happen. No food I eat will make it happen. Crazy calls at 7am to my real-estate agent about the dream I had last night will not make it happen. It's just not my time.

DST= My Favorite

I do a lot of stupid things. Rarely do they end up with me causing harm to myself, property, or others. I guess stupid might be too harsh of a word. Silly things might be more appropriate. Things that I hope no one sees, like rocking out in my car (even though its basically a box of windows?!), spilling saucy food down the front of my shirt, or slipping on the ONLY banana peel ever to be on the ground, in my path.

Over the weekend, the news had a segment on Daylight Savings Time, must've been a slow night. Anyway, they were talking about the effects of losing an hour of sleep, and whether there was any information or studies done about this. Turns out that the monday after DST, there are more car accidents. Hmmm. I thought that to be interesting, and then remembered how in October, upon returning from a trip to Europe and being jet-lagged, I scraped my car against some concrete in the garage. I had never hit anything before, ever. I have never been to Europe before. Jet lag had to be the explanation. So, the DST theory seemed plausible, although, I can't ever remember feeling any extra tired, or being able to attribute something silly I've done directly to DST.

I didn't get my normal 9 hours of sleep last night because I could not fall asleep! No, not DST, but putting an offer in on my dream home apparently makes me an insomniac. So I got about 6.5 hours of sleep, dragged myself to the gym to energize myself- which totally worked, btw, and then proceeded to injure myself shortly after.

How you ask? Well, I was filling up my water bottle at the office water cooler, and I used up the last of the 5 gallon container. I pulled up on the empty container to replace it, and it didn't budge. I used more force, and in the process, I was no longer pulling up, but more pulling towards myself. The empty container popped free, and hit me square in the lower lip. Ouch. Ouch! I'm going to get a fat lip. I touched my lip, and I was bleeding! WTF. I actually made myself bleed changing the water. And then I thought back to the news segment on DST...argh...

Weight is staying put for now. My routine took a back seat last week as I decided I needed to become a landlord and buy a house and fought off that weird 24 hour bug. I'm back, things are falling into place, and I can do it all. Provided I get the right amount of sleep, that is.

Take Nothing for Granted

Yesterday, I woke up and I was so nauseous. My mind reeled as I tried to think of everything I had ate in the past 2 days. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Besides, its never the things that you think are making you sick actually are. I trudged on to work, and figured I would just leave after I inevitably puked.

Waves of nausea continued to crash over me. No food sounded good to me, my latte went untouched. I drank two glasses of water, and still nothing was making feel like myself.

I ended up going home early, and crawling into bed. It was so baffling to me, this was not a cold, no. This was not the flu, no. Or was it? No. Something I ate? Maybe, but I don't know what. 24-hour bug? Possible. All I knew is that I would give anything to feel healthy enough/stable enough to work out. I was kicking myself for not finding the time the day before, when I DID feel healthy.

Sometimes, ok, a lot of times, I take my health for granted. I am so fortunate that I only get one cold a year. I'm able to run 3 miles. I can do sit-ups, and resistance training, and just about anything. This odd sickness made me see how all that can change in one day. I wanted to work out again. I wanted to drink water, and eat food again. How long was this feeling going to last? What if I never felt better. I couldn't even imagine. I now had yet another reason to continue to push myself, because I can, and there are people out there who cannot.

Continuing my obsession with weight-loss/journey blogs, I am so inspired by the people that have reached their goals, or are nearly there. Each and everyone of them discusses how easy it was, and they don't know what changed, all of sudden one day they could just do it. They talk about how they are in fear that one day they will slip back. They do not take their progress for granted. They continue to work hard every day, and remember where they have been.

I woke up today, and I felt great! I could not believe I could go from feeling so crappy, to feeling so good, in such a short amount of time. I am so grateful for how I feel today, its seriously like night and day. With the feeling of yesterday fresh in my mind, I am headed to work out. I hope its a long time before I ever feel that way again, but I will remember that day the next time I don't feel like getting my ass to the gym.

Tough Choices

Today, I chose taking a shower before work over going to the gym before work. If you had seen my hair this morning when I woke up, you wouldn't blame me. If instead of going to work, I was headed to an '80's hairband party, I wouldn't have showered. If instead of work, I was headed to a "white people can't 'fro" competition, I wouldn't have showered, and probably won.

I chalked it up to poor planning, because I should have showered last night, and then quickly got over it as I realized I can just make up the gym time on Friday morning, and I will still be doing the Jillian video tonight after work. One of the best arguments I've ever heard for scheduling exercise everyday is because "life will give you the days off you need." So true. I would like to add, if life doesn't give you a day off after 10 days go ahead and take one anyway.

My head has been all over the place today as I try and prepare myself for taking on a second mortgage. The best perspective I got today was from my incredibly wealthy boss. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: Morning.
Boss: Hey, Violet.
Boss: Housing market is looking up.
Me: Yup. I'm gonna buy a house.
Boss: And sell your condo?
Me: Nope, gave up on that idea, going to rent it. And then buy a house.
Boss: (between fits of laughter) they gonna approve you for that?
Me: (thinking, he knows how much he pays me)
Me: Yes, got pre-approved yesterday.
Boss: That is totally worth it. I know a lot of people that did well by that. That is a risk worth going bankrupt over.
Me: I thought so too. I will be eating rice for a long time.
Boss: Well, good thing your boyfriend is a chef, I bet he makes good rice.

So, there you have it. No rewards come without risk. Risks always involve tough choices.