King of Pain

I made a conscious decision recently to purge negative and toxic people from my life.

I even went as far as blocking them from my phone and social media accounts instead of just ignoring them. I have to tell you, that helps keep me from thinking about them tremendously. Although thoughts do still pop up – obviously.

I don’t need to rescue people from themselves. Their woe is me way of life gets tiring after a while, and I just don’t want to deal with it.

Yeah, I know that makes me sound like a bitch, but seriously, when that is all I ever hear from these people it gets so monotonous. I mean, doesn’t anything good ever happen to you? Are you ever happy? I can’t make you happy, only you can do that.

I’ve told you before, and on many occasions, that I am not the same person that I used to be, either. Back when we were real friends and were close. I am not that person. I am in  different situation. I am happy. I am confident.  I have discovered how to be my own person and not rely on other people to manage my emotions. I hope you can do the same one day.

Though I have to say that I am curious about you. I have discovered things accidentally on Facebook that I almost unblocked your number to text you about. I have questions. But I knew that would only open the door that I have padlocked shut. I don’t want to go down that road again. No amount of curiosity is worth the frustration.

So I will leave you with this, I hope you can be truly happy on your own terms. Find whatever it is that you love and stick with it. I hope you can let go of what you hold on to  and learn to live with the cards that have been dealt to you. I hope that one day you will no longer be your own king of pain.

Save Myself

Why are holidays so dang stressful? There’s really no need for it. And so many times, it is all undue stress that is caused by other people who are stressing over nothing.

I understand how people become more depressed during the holidays. The reasons vary from person to person.

For me, it’s basically because I miss my mom. My side of the family is super small. Basically just my brother and I. His wife comes from a large family as does my husband. So when it comes to planning parties and holidays, my sister-in-law’s family takes priority for them. While my husband’s family seems to take priority for us.

For Christmas, though, the only day my family is really occupied is Christmas Eve. That’s when my husband’s family does our get together with the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and now the next round of cousins.

My brother’s family does their large get together on Christmas day. But every year it is always so hard to find a date for us to all get together. It doesn’t matter how early I try to pin down a date with them, they always say they have to wait to see when they will get together with her dad’s family or their friends or whatnot.

My theory is that this has a lot to do with why I miss my mom so much more at this time of year. Sometimes I want to feel like someone puts me first. I want to feel like I’m important to someone. I haven’t felt like that since my mom died. For the past 14 years I’ve pretty much just been existing in other people’s lives.

I know, poor me. It could be a lot worse, I know. But right now, this is my worst.

Safety Dance

What is it about men that they think women want a knight in shining armor?

Maybe it isn’t that they actually want to be the knight, but they want credit for doing a good deed.

Let me fill you fellas in on a little secret: we don’t care.

We especially don’t care if it was something from more than a decade ago when you thought you were coming to our rescue.

When you say, “I had to really beg my friend to give you a ride to go out with us…” that doesn’t make me think more of you. That makes me feel bad about myself. I am not going to thank you profusely for begging someone to pick me up – especially when I could have just driven myself.

And when you say, “So-and-so always said you looked like you were wearing your grandma’s clothes when you wore that brown sweater…” Again, I am not thankful to you for defending my honor, I’m feeling more insecure about myself and wondering what else was said about me.

And fellas, that stuff sticks with us. I haven’t worn that sweater in about 17 years but I still think about that outfit I wore it with and question myself about it. Now. 17 years later. As a woman almost in her 40s and not a meek 23-year-old.

And it was probably 14 years later when you even told me the story about your friend not wanting to drive me. I know your friend didn’t like me, he ignored me when we saw each other at the gas station not long after that.

Even you online friends now, you don’t need to tell me that one of your friends didn’t like something I said in a post or a tweet. We aren’t married or engaged or even dating. Your friends do not need to like me and I do not need to like them. Chances are, if they don’t like me, I already know it. You don’t need to tell me how you feel like you defended my honor somehow. I am not going to be dancing a jig to show you how appreciative I am.

Unless it is something that I actually truly need to know about for some reason. Do not tell me. It will most definitely have the opposite effect on me that you are intending. It brings me down and I will not only be less confident in myself, but I will also think less of you.

I Wish You Would

Hello.  It’s me.

I’ve not made time for writing at all lately. I’ve been wanting to, but I haven’t really had anything specific to write about. Nothing that I needed to get off my mind. I guess that is a good thing.

I feel that I am a person who needs to be inspired and motivated to do just about anything. I’m sure this is the same for most people. For instance, I had a gym membership for quite a while and while I went a few days  a week, it didn’t really help me at all. I did the bare minimum. I daydreamed. I didn’t push myself (partly because I didn’t always know what I was doing).

But this boot camp that I just finished up I actually lost weight and inches! Everyone there was so nice and friendly and helpful. We pushed each other and congratulated each other on our accomplishments. But what really made the difference for me were the two trainers. They pushed me. Hard. Sometimes I felt like throwing a weight at them. I did even tell one of them to stop talking to me. : )

But they knew I needed the push. I had the inspiration and motivation to sign up for the classes (my clothes not fitting) but I needed the motivation to push myself harder. And it worked. I had great results and I am in for the next round. I even came in third place in my class time for most percentage lost (although my brother speculated that Photoshop was used for the before/after photos, if I was going to be a fraud  I would totally make the after photo look a lot better than it does)!

You can imagine how excited I was when I found that out! So excited I wanted to scream it from the mountain tops. Or at least tell all my friends.

Speaking of friends, the whole inspiration for my writing this morning was a song (actually songs) I listened to on the radio on my way in to work. They started me thinking of a friend who isn’t really around any more. I had tried to start slowly by just sending a text to say hello (we used to text each other 24/7). But the texts usually fall short and don’t last long. They actually just stop abruptly leaving me wondering why.

He has reached out a couple of times, too. But it’s always the same. Short conversations leaving me wishing for more. Wishing it was what it used to be.

I guess that happens, though.  People drift apart all the time.

I just wish you knew…

Hall Of Fame

This boot camp is tough. It is definitely the hardest and longest hour of my day. I’m in the middle of my fourth week and I’m proud to say I’ve gone to every class (except two when I was out-of-town). After almost 4 weeks I should be seeing some type of results, right?

Wrong.

I lost a couple of pounds after the first two weeks. The third week I gained a pound. According to my scale at home I’m staying pretty steady this week.

I am super frustrated because I’ve gone from being basically almost sedentary to up and moving around every day. After my hour-long class I’ll go for a 2-3 mile walk with my husband (if we don’t have to go grocery shopping that is). I’ve gone from eating a bowl of ice cream before bed every night to eating a bowl of plain popcorn. I’ve dramatically cut down on the amount of carbs I eat. I’m being choosy and reading labels and trying to increase my protein intake. I am drinking water all day. I’ve even swapped out my chocolate milk at dinner for a glass of water (although perhaps I should keep the chocolate milk for the calcium?).

I know it’s still early in my journey. I knew it wouldn’t be easy and nothing would happen overnight, but I feel like I should have had some type of progress by this point. I am starting to feel defeated already.

Before you say anything about the numbers on the scale, I want you to know that I’m not foggy about this type of thing. I know that muscle weighs more than fat, so it is perfectly logical that I could just be gaining muscle and losing fat. BUT, my clothes are not fitting any better. I guess the upside is that they aren’t fitting any worse, either.

Running is still hard. Leg days just about kill me. And I can’t catch my breath to save my life. I was hoping it would be a bit easier by this point. It really doesn’t feel like it is at all. I’m still sore all the time. I wake up at 2 am because my legs are killing me from my knees down. I’d love to not have to take Tylenol or ibuprofen on a daily basis.

I just want to feel like I am going through all this and will have a positive outcome at the end. I want to feel like 12 weeks of sweat and tears will be worth it in the end and not a waste of my time and money. I want to know that I won’t fail.

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

Ah, salaam and good evening to you, worthy friend.

There’s something so satisfying about cleaning out unnecessary items, isn’t there?

I always hang on to things, “just in case” and it’s really just a waste of time and space. Just in case usually never happens, because I am just realizing this, I am going through The Purge.

I’ve actually started this process a few months ago by purging unnecessary accounts on social media. There were a lot of people who I followed who were super negative and just brought me down. Or they were just into topics and interests that I don’t really care about at this age. The kind of life they live is not the kind of life I want to live so I had to break ties. It has been a positive change.

I am continuing to purge those people from my life. Some of these people didn’t do anything or say anything wrong specifically, I am just at a different place in my life than I was. And as I do this I am moving forward. I’ve met a lot of people at boot camp who are nothing but positive energy. They are all encouraging and helpful. I don’t even know all their names yet, but they’re always there with a high-five or an encouraging smile. I even smile while I’m there dripping buckets of sweat.

I’ve complained a lot about my life in the past, but I made changes. A lot of changes. And life is much sweeter now. Sure, there will be hiccups now and again, and life won’t always be sunshine and lollipops.

Push It

So I’m kind of crapping my pants right now.

I just agreed to do a 12 week weight loss boot camp.

A friend of mine is a personal trainer and I see the pictures he posts of all the participants and their results. Every time I see new photos I think there’s no reason I couldn’t do that.

So I decided to sign up. It starts Monday. The same day my vacation starts, which is both fortunate and unfortunate. It is fortunate in that I won’t have to go to work sore and stiff my first week of getting my ass kicked. It is unfortunate because it’s my vacation. Even though I didn’t have week-long plans to go away, I still have some day trips planned. I don’t necessarily expect to change them either.

I am so lazy and out of shape right now so I am scared shitless at how hard this is going to be. It’ll be good for me though, for obvious reasons. Maybe I won’t fall asleep as soon as I sit on the couch after work. Better yet, maybe I won’t nod off while at work anymore, either!

I need this.  I definitely need this.

I’m Fat

This is getting very tiresome. I am getting very tiresome. That’s because I’m always tired.

I keep telling myself that I’m going to get up an hour earlier in the morning and do a longer yoga practice, or lift some weights, or go out for a run. But I don’t. I can’t. I absolutely cannot get out of bed in the mornings. I’m sleeping right through my alarm. All. The. Time.

And I am too tired after a full day at work and running the kids to and from dance or track or whatever sport they have that day.

I was hoping this feeling would be temporary and a couple good night’s sleep and I’d be back on track. Unfortunately this seems to be lingering. I’m sure I just need to force my ass to move and do something and I’ll start having more energy again. But it seems almost impossible.

I have days that I really hate this state that I’m in; I have days where I say that I’m OK with where I’m at. But I always hate picking out my clothes for the day. Every pair of pants I have are just a tad too snug now. Sitting at work is just a bit uncomfortable. And it isn’t warm enough outside for me to start wearing dresses to work. I need temperatures in the 70s for that.

I mentioned once before that I read a lot of blogs on different subjects. Today I have seen so many “Transformation Tuesday” photos on various social media sites. One day I will get to post my own photo, but to get there I need to move. And as I’m sitting at my desk almost falling asleep sitting up, I am making a promise to myself to start tonight – even if I just take a walk around the block.

 

 

The Lazy Song

I’ve become lazy again. I know this  because my pants are starting to get tight. Again.

I need to perform a massive overhaul of my lifestyle. I like to sleep as late as I can in the mornings so I’ve been skipping my morning yoga almost routinely. I haven’t run in forever. After work is so hectic between getting dinner ready and taking kids to all their extra curricular activities that I just want to veg out or read on the couch when I get home. So that’s exactly what I do.

Yes, I totally know I’m making excuses. At least I can admit that. I can also admit that part of me is happy with the way I am right now. I am not “large and in charge” by any means, but I am in no way what most people would describe as the ideal shape either. I’m OK with this. I just don’t want to get any bigger so that I have to buy a new wardrobe. If I do have to buy a new one though, I’d rather be purchasing smaller sizes.

This is the mindset that I am in today. Tomorrow will most likely be a different story. It always is.

Talk to you later.

Desire

I’ve been debating on what to write about here. I don’t think I’m going to go in the direction I planned on originally. I’m tired of writing about my emotions and crap.

I’m going to talk about the love/hate relationship with food and exercise instead. That’s a fun topic, right?

I love to eat. I hate to exercise.

Scratch that. I hate exercising alone. I’m the type of person who gets bored easily. So I can run, or use an elliptical or lift weights but if I’m by myself, forget it. My mind starts wandering. Big time. I need someone else with me to keep me on track. Or distract my mind from being bored so that I want to go do something else.

My friends all have an allergic reaction to exercise, or so I’m told. My husband and son have their bonding time when they run. They run faster than I do so they get annoyed if I want to go with them. Or they just run ahead of me and I end up running half the distance because I need to turn around sooner to get back to the car at the same time they do.

Now, I don’t need anyone else around when I eat, though. That’s quite a problem I have. I love food too much and exercise not enough. Eating is my go-to. Food is there for me when I’m feeling down or excited. Food never lets me down.

Until I start feeling a little too uncomfortable in my clothes. Then food has let me down big time. That’s when I start getting a little more physical and ramp up the activities again.

Maybe if I just sucked it up and focused on my runs I wouldn’t lose my form. If I didn’t lose my form then maybe my knees wouldn’t give me problems. If my knees didn’t give me problems I could run farther and longer. If I ran more, then maybe I could eat whatever my heart desired.