Trippingly: Day 16

All I can do is believe in the eventualities of time.

Just as an fyi, because I don’t know that I’ve been using the greater portion of these posts to delineate this, but I haven’t been fucking up.  I really haven’t been.  I haven’t been secretly having burritos at the mexican restaurant our staff haunts, I haven’t been sneaking bits of bread or crackers at the ribbon cuttings.  I haven’t been blowing off breakfast.  I haven’t been laying around.  I just haven’t been doing the wrong things, but unfortunately, I haven’t been doing enough of the right things with enough vigor and zest, I guess.

My zest is going to be at a premium for the next three months, but I am determined and have shown some small proof to myself today, not to be swept once more into the event undertoad.  It drags you down and suddenly, you can’t think straight and you can’t do your usual routine.  You have to SURVIVE.   You have to deal with these twelve hour days and the ineptitude of everyone around you and your own serious ineptitudes on top of your flagging spirit and food always sounds like the right answer in that situation.  And luckily, at the speed I’m going right now, food doesn’t sound like anything but one more act on the to-do list.

So, that’s the status report detail you probably were not looking for.   I just felt like I should give it given that as sure as I am that I will get to my goal by June 15 – at the moment, it kind of looks like I’m dicking around.  I want to assure the powers that be, and of course and as always myself, that I’m not just dicking around.  I’m caring!  I’m being faithful and true! So in the end, given time, I’ll be exactly where I need to be.

On another note, I wrote last night and it was actually fun.  It’s probably going to be one of the more critical moments in the book however the book actually shapes itself, and I feel like the beats aren’t perfect, aren’t sharp, but they’re emerging.  It’s a decently shitty rough draft and writing that section which I always considered too…controversial for me to be able to encapsulate or to even try writing because I’d write rings around it and not the it – itself – of an inappropriate desire for an inappropriate relationship rearing its head.  And I got close.  Didn’t get it exactly right and there’s not the subtlety or nuance that will shade it once it’s settled in its context, but, I’m in the same hemisphere now.  This is a good, encouraging thing.

Another ball to keep up in the air.

Um, I don’t know what else to say.  Going to walk about a bit and exercise somehow.  Get on the bike and stare into the center of oblivion or find a way to kill Warren on Walk It Out with my bare hands.

Smooth, easy ride, kids.  It’s a smooth, easy ride.

Today: 160 on the nose
Yesterday: 160.2
Goal: 155 by June 15

 

Mint Julep: Day 15

Halfway.

Memorial Day.  I honor and recognize this day and all those who have given all of themselves so that I have the freedom to bloviate on the internet and wail about things as specious and ridiculous as a quest to slenderize myself.  Such a huge offering.

….

Alright, last day of the three day vacation.  The great gasp before we plunge into the proverbial abyss of summer events.

So, what I require of myself today is a bit more giddy-up and go.  This is why I’m typing to you from my bed before 10:00am in the morning with not a great deal today except to proffer up one more daily plan of goodness and progress.

….

Well, we giddied-up and went.  Today took an unexpected turn and my sister decided that it would be a good day to go out and check out Red Rocks.  Silly me, I thought, Red Rocks, that’ll be fun.  Which isn’t to say it wasn’t, but of course, once we got ourselves packed with a lunch and driven over there, I felt groggy and irritable and the thought of tripping through the undergrowth, sidestepping rattlesnakes, and basically all the significantly unpleasant things you might associate with hiking reared up in my head.  All of a sudden, my little anxiety-ridden mind pulled a screeching halt to “this will be fun” and it played a little sequence of You, honestly, truly, despite the fact that everyone else is doing it, physically cannot go on this trail.  Played it in that voice that I have spent a very long time listening to and so I pulled up short, gazed out the distance halfway up the ramp that would take us to the ampitheatre and dizzily made my way back down, letting my sister go on ahead.  I was dehydrated and this incline in elevation would make the blood vessels in my head pop and I’d start crawling on my hands and knees.  These were the kind of out-of-control, completely groundless and wasteful thoughts I had.  They frustrate the shit out of me now, but in the moment, they always, always feel like the truth.

Curious as I am to see the ampitheatre and having never actually been to a concert here despite living 30 minutes away most of my life, I still meekly went back down.  Not knowing what to do with myself, I walked around the parking lot, almost 3/4ths of a mile until she came back.  Then, I thought, well, this is kind of bullshit on my part.  This is kind of annoying for me to do.  To come all the way out here and not take advantage of it.  We got ready and everything.  I don’t want to leave with that shitty feeling hanging on me the rest of the day.  So we went and did the trail and while it was hard in some spots…I didn’t panic or freak or spaz  and was kind of a normal human being for a minute.  So glad I did that.  Next time, we’re going up the ramp.  I can climb the Great Wall of China, I can climb this, easy.

It’s all easy, in the end, when you get your brain out of it.

Today: 160 on the nose.  Less salt, more water!
Yesterday 159.2
Goal: 155 by June 15

 

Darling: Day 14

Never, never, never is it a safe bet that I will turn up to this blank white page with anything of consequence to tell you.

What I need to do is take a good, serious, intensive nap so I can finish my exercise.   Took about a mile walk with the dog and if I’m smart, and I like to think from time to time I am, I’ll pop some aspirin, clear off the bed and get my book and read until I pass out.  Well.  Einstein, off you fucking go….

Okay.  So that was 3 hours ago.  I read and passed out.  Nice.  Great.  Fine.  Whatever.

Some things that I’ve figured out for the next two weeks as I modulate the diet for better results.

Water.  I need a lot more of it to counteract the saltiness I’ve had lately.  Moreover, I need to eat a lot less salty things.  Now that I’m not eating carbs much at all, there isn’t a lot of stuff, except the vegetables to really absorb the salt/sodium and I think it’s hindering me.  I like the saltiness because it sort of makes me feel somehow less deprived.   So, that’s something I want to make sure I’m not ignoring in the name of just being low-carb.

Exercise.  I want to track it better.  I’ve been trying to get 185 calories burnt a day because that seems both feasible and a challenge as well as being what SparkPeople recommended.  So, I’ve been doing that, but it’s been a lot of walking which is fine – and good and I don’t want to get away from that aspect of it because I already feel stronger as a result. I’m frustrated that all of a sudden the wii – sports active 2 game (game?) –  isn’t working because the peripherals aren’t connecting anymore for a reason I cannot discern and buying new ones seems expensive and wasteful.  So I’m trying to find a better routine than just marching about everyday.  Something that doesn’t piss me off like the random exercise videos on Netflix do with their gormless smiles and insistence that chuckling and ribbing your squadron of equally gormless aerobics drones while you exercise somehow makes it fun.  Exercise is fun – I think –  when it makes you feel like you’re getting stronger and pushing through or you have music to distract you from the movement so that you just flow through it.   So, something that does more of an all-over type of workout that I can manage everyday would be great.

Um.  So let’s see, darlings, what else.  I’ve been reading, writing, drinking my water, catching up on Game of Thrones: Littlefinger Will Fuck You and I’m considering the future.  All of these are good things.  We need to get the window fixed so that I can open it with this growing heat.  I need to visit my parents tomorrow and settle on their travel arrangements.  I need to do a project for work.  And also?  I need to smile.  It’ll be okay and I’m making progress.

Today: 159.2 (begrudgingly)
Yesterday: 160.8 – I think.
Goal: 155

 

 

Enrich Your Word Power: Day 13

So, dear readers, we find ourselves nearing high noon on a Saturday with a degree of melancholy in our hearts.  One that we, me, I am determined to root out with the forceful application of music, food, activity, and writing.

The melancholy springs from a few things – I finished A Storm of Swords and as I am further determined (I am less water than I am determination at this point) to start reading more and more and more until I’m more words than water or willpower, I got back into The Problem with Murmur Lee which I dropped out of after the first few chapters because that seems to be the way of it with me lately.  I like it a lot, but there is a melancholy to the parts I’ve read thus far.

It’s a curious thing.  I used to be able to drop into a book and just stay there in that world until I was done with it.  Now, I feel like my attention has been so finely-tuned to multi-task that like so many in the world of my age, there’s some really unimportant impulse that arises to check email or look at Facebook or get up or sit down or turn on music.  I hate that.  I think it smacks of a weak mind and to put it plainly, I don’t want or find a weak mind attractive.  My desire for weight loss and physical alteration being what it is, I find the ugliest thing in the world a disinterested mind.

So, I am doing what I can to work on that.  I think my writing will be the better for it and you poor lot that suffer through what I post here will probably appreciate it if I am able to train myself to become more attentive once again to what I write and my descriptive capabilities.  I know I can do more than I am doing and I know that I can do it better than I am doing it at the moment.  More than anything, I want to do my story justice.

I do need to crawl around the kitchen and clean out the refrigerator today.  That’s a big project for the first day of a three-day weekend, but I am going to do it before sussing out what to eat for lunch.  My mother made me a ramekin-sized cheesecake which I just wasn’t hungry to eat last night after the sorely failing concept of bratwurst and broccoli and I will have a part of that along with, I think, some eggs and bacon and whatever vegetables I can fit on the plate.  Then, if my sister makes the chicken for dinner I expect, I’ll be able to sail along into my friends’ chat without much undue consternation about eating.  And somewhere in and amongst all of this determined doing, I’ll exercise and hopefully sort out my broken WiiActive heart monitor.  That would make me, well…really happy.

What motivates me now is understanding how lovely and vibrant and alluring the accomplished person is.  How exciting and pleasurable the give and take between thought and action is.  That the dichotomy is a continuum and we ebb and flow between these realms until we find this sweet spot where we imagine boldly and deeply and effectively and then execute the plans with force.

Today: 159.8 (whew)
Yesterday:  160.8
Goal: 155 by June 15

Plop, Plop, Fizz, Fizz: Day 12

Now, more than ever, just write.

Had a moment there were I felt pretty locked about writing this post.  Probably goes hand-in-hand with the overwhelming nausea I feel right now.  It’s not an unhappy nausea, not a desperate need to wretch, just a sort of observation on a reaction of bratwurst and raw broccoli consumed heedlessly.    It’ll pass.  Eventually.

I know that’s totally gross.   That fact hasn’t evaded me.  But sometimes, you know, life is gross and unpleasant and I’m documenting that for the universe.

I’m not unhappy or displeased though I am quite ill at ease, because it is Friday.  And I am off Saturday and Sunday and even the day that comes after that, little Rebecca Black, Monday as well.  It is almost like they have untethered some great beast and it has no plans beyond just rampaging and wreaking hell and havoc upon every unsuspecting thing in its path.  How they’ll cage it up again come Monday is beyond me.

But that isn’t to say I have interest in going sideways on the diet.  I am doing really well.  I mean, I can’t see that on the scales whatsoever, but I can feel it.  The pants are looser.  My appetite has shrunk dramatically.  I don’t lay about thinking about eating.  I don’t do that weird thing where even as I’m eating I’m thinking about going out to buy something to eat to “actually eat” as if I’m not already doing it which I used to do and just accept as normal behavior.  For the time being, I look forward to walking or going on the stationary bike or just getting the exercise in even if I haven’t quite geared myself up to Jillian Michaelsing and working out until I ache – but I want to get there.  That doesn’t sound like an offensive desire as it would have in the past.

I don’t know if the past is so permanently classified as the past.  12 days?  It’s a distance. It’s a span.  Whether it’s a big one or a small one just depends.

I’ll tell you what.  I am trying, trying really hard.  And I know this next week is going to be critical.  It is the gauntlet.  The feet in the fire.  Two events, everyone kind of unravelling, pizza and doughnuts the medicine everyone’s meant to take to get through it.  That and coffee.   And candy.  We’re just meant to get through it.  If I can machete my way through getting our fair and market settled without going on some kind of carb-fueled murder spree, I’ll be doing remarkably well.   There’s food traditions I have to break.

But I have small results, deep internal results, and looking at those is helping me.  It is nice to be in process rather than trying to scrabble together the willpower to start.   Not having to be on the outside looking in.  No longer having feel yet another opportunity slip by in waiting for the most right time when all the time, it’s up to me.

Today: 160.8
Yesterday: 160.6 (I have to check this.)
Goal: 155 by June 15

Take It Into Your Cells: Day 11

Waiting for the battery to drain down and then I’ll hoist myself upright and get the plug and start charging this mad beast of a laptop.   You probably don’t need to know that and I don’t need to record it, but it’s been said and now it’s known with little hope to ever be unknown and can only take solace, little strange fact that it is, in the promise of eventually being forgotten.

So.

Today: 160.4 (I didn’t rant and rave this morning.  Though I did verify the results a couple times.  I understand salt and water retention, but damnit, I was hoping for you know, downwardness?  Sauntering vaguely towards downness?)
Yesterday: 159.6
Goal: 155 by June 15

We just soldier on.  I’m getting giddy for the three day weekend and I was stunned to return home after yet another wiggity-wig out drive home … (It will and must be conquered and without giving up on the diet as some weird concession to the anxiety gods) and find that my sister cleaned up the front room gloriously.   Our countertop is visible.  I feel like I can breathe and I am excited to bring my own room up to snuff and sort out these small piles of disorder instead of plunging into the struggle and realizing I don’t have the energy to move the mountain in one day and climbing out of the struggle, despaired.   It is a big deal.  We’re also down an unneeded loveseat, up an ironing board and soon +1 retro patterned dream dress.   On the whole, it’s difficult to be too displeased.

Not that I didn’t try today.  It was one of those days where I had time in the office and I probably averted some disasters before they came to Pompeii-type levels and all the while I hear bitching about how people are tired and can’t bring themselves to wake up easily in the morning and everyone pulling on me to take a break when we just got done with lunch and sitting out in the sunshine two hours ago.   I usually try really hard to be conscientious about myself and leave others to mind their own behavior, even if I do let a few snarky frustrated thoughts fly, but damn.   The kind of willful ignorance I usually reserve for myself, not that cute in others.  Maybe that’s something to contemplate.  I worry about my boss right now.  I really do.  On many levels.  And I can’t figure out how to help except to help as best I can and not take more on myself that’s going to make myself crazier than the shithouse rat I aim to be.

Beyond that, I had buffalo wings for dinner so I shouldn’t be ravenous in the morning, maybe it’ll fuck up the diet further, but I just had salad and a bit of chicken for lunch and the shake so I’m not in dire fear.  Just need to gear myself up for a real workout.  I think of this as concert training so that I can stand there for hours fearlessly.  It really does help.

Panic at the Panic Store: Day 10

What would be best would be to cut and run.  Yes, cut and run, Mr. Ex-President.  But, still, 10 days in and dizzy and ditzy as I am, I remain the ever-willing servant of the flame.

I am dieting and exercising to beat the band and I’m fine with it, save one thing.  I am so busy at work that I’m just not eating enough.  Just not.  A shake and a salad (even a mighty delicious, full of cheese and ham and every kind of vegetable known to man and full-fat ranch) is not enough to cover the needs of three meals.  At the same time, ugh, I can’t force down more.  So I’m feeling kind of shakey (like trembling not just full of Atkins shake) and I’m having these quasi-panic attacks while driving…even the long, long, long way around.  Where you’re at an intersection and you literally cannot make a decision even when the road is quite clear because you can’t quite see perfectly around another car and you can’t quite lift your foot fast enough to just pull out a bit and check and go because your foot is suddenly where you’re keeping all the weight in your body.  I know that it’s because I’m facing the first wave of real resistance and this is where most of my …probably all of my failed diet schemes have died in the past.  This wave is this sort of psychic decon field I have to pass and it FUCKS with me.  It tells me that the diet is to blame and that this weight loss is too fast and that I’m dehydrated and I would be best served by a sandwich and that would take care of my swimming head and knocking knees and then, magically, I will somehow diet differently?  Or something?  There isn’t really a then, to the if/then proposition it puts forth.  It’s just if you continue, you will die.  Which is so…fucking…whatever.

So, I had a piece of bruschetta at this party along with my water.  I don’t even care since it’s been since Sunday when I had two water crackers and I’ve been eating vegetables along with my bacon and cheese and I’m happy.  HAPPY that my pants are hula hooping around my waist.  Happy that I don’t feel like such a puffed and reckless Pillsbury Dough Girl.  Happy that I am not so at the whim of my hunger.  Happy that I’ve gotten so far.  Happy that I’m going to reach this goal.

So.  I kinda gotta nip that shit in the bud.  Maybe I can convince the dressmaker over there to come with me and I’ll get gas in the death-car and I can get a few more of those shakey shakes and whatever else will help.  Oh, and batteries.  And then I had some other ideas about the story and and and and!

Today: 159.6
Yesterday: 159.6 (I am thinking my body is just holding on to what it’s got until it gets a bit more food in it and the whoosh-release will occur)
Goal: 155 by June 15