Getting Caught Up

WOW.  How has it been almost a month?  Bad Liz, no no!  Clearly I haven’t died, but busy would be putting it mildly.  I have to do better on the blog front.  I like to blog.  The problem is I always think I need to write a short novel on some highly interesting topic.  Uh, why is that? 

So here is where we are at:

First, the New Rice Maker is my hero.  I still have the old one sitting on a shelf.  We are not pack rats but apparently we are both holding out hope that we might find a replacement pot.  Sure, that’s it.  But the new one?  Amazing.  In fact, my lunch today consists of delicious leftovers:  lentil and wild rice soup made in the NRM.  It rocks.  I love it.  Not like I loved the old one but it steamed my broccoli perfectly last week so we are making progress.

Second, the weight loss.  I will start with a letter to my scale.

Dear Scale,

I hate you.

Sincerely,
Me

Next, I will share a letter to my body.

Dear Body,

You have got to be kidding me.  Seriously? 

Love,
Me

I am sure you are wondering what this all means?  For one, it means that I didn’t reach the goal of breaking 200 lbs by the end of October.  Nope, I am exactly where I have been for the last few months.  Months, people.  I know, I know.  Plateaus are not uncommon but COME ON.  Yes I am thrilled with the non-scale victories (like this ridiculous plaid skirt and the fact that I was able to vault over not one but give 4’+ tall hurdles last weekend), but how hard could it be to get to 199?  I can sit at 199 for a year if you like.  I am cool with that.  I am just tired of looking at this damned 2.

Okay, so here is how October went:

I resumed my crazy fitness bootcamp-esque workouts with the girls at Kaia FIT.  I love it.  Sure, I can barely even sit down today (who knew wall sits could be this painful?) but I love it.  I mean, when I popped off 40 sit ups last Thursday I actually said “Woot woot!” with a fist pump…during Yoga. 

I have been running twice a week with Reno Running and Fitness.  I love them.  I am meeting a lot of really nice people who are just as insane as me.  I mean, I wore a kilt to the Warrior Dash but Roland sported his at the Tuesday night group run.  AWESOME!  These are amazing and fun people.  Where else can I run eight miles, keep a good pace (for me, people) and feel like I was just trotting around the block with friends?  Thanks for making the introductions, Kate!

So one would think that if you ate well, ran 20-25 miles plus did a variety of HIIT and yoga as cross training you would lose weight, right? 

As it turns out, that is not the case.  I even know that this is not the case.  I am simply indulging in a moment of complete self loathing. 

But here is what did happen.  See this skirt?  I bought it in Scotland specifically for the Warrior Dash.  I weighed 208 and could barely zip it up.  I was confident, however, that it would fit by race day.

I tried it on two weeks ago, again weighing 208.  It zipped half way up.  I was worried.  The scale hadn’t been moving and I only had TWO WEEKS left. 

I tried it on a week before the race.  Once again, 208.  It zipped all the way up. 

Race morning?  I weighed 208 (shocking), it not only zipped up easily and I had room.  Plenty of room.

Non-scale victory, I know. I should be thrilled with this.  I tell everyone else to celebrate the non-scale victories.  But you know what?  Blah, freaking blah. 

I would like to shoot myself for all those times I’ve replied to others facing the dreaded plateau with comments like “It’s only temporary” or “Don’t worry, you will get there!”  I am here to tell you those comments, as loving and supportive as they are, do not make you feel warm and fuzzy at 4 am when you are staring down the same 208 lbs you have been staring down for months.  See, apparently somewhere in the back of my brain I think I actually thought I was immune to plateaus.  If not immune, at least it would hit when I was at like 180 (don’t ask why that number jumped in my head but that is where I thought it would be).

And yeah, I know this is temporary and that I will get there.  I’ve had a couple realizations that are helping keep me sane.

Realization 1:  I am bad ass.  No, really I am.  A year ago, there is no way I would have been able to complete several of the obstacles in the Warrior Dash.  Hello, vertical rope climb?  I don’t think so!  And pardon my vanity, but as the heaviest chick in the team this weekend I was also the only one who wasn’t sore.  At all.  Sure, it wasn’t Tough Mudder or anything but that’s next.  (You heard it here first!)

Realization 2:  Weight is just a number, not a measurement of fitness.  Okay, I already knew this but I am increasingly realizing I fit into clothing offered up by women who have never been close to 200 lbs in their life.  Heck, I borrow clothes all the time from a friend of mine who is 30 lbs lighter than me.  How does THAT work?  This is an interesting concept for me.  It also may explain why the office nurse has drug me to the scale repeatedly because she is convinced that I am eligible for the BMI discount on our health insurance (still 15 lbs over, dear.  It hasn’t changed!).  This is a good thing, right?  Something like that.

Today is a good day.  I am sore, but I feel good.  Work is exceptionally busy, but I enjoy it.  It is fall, my favorite season.  I have a baby puppy to play with every night (have I even mentioned THAT?).  The big dogs are heading off to nationals and Smokey has a new advertising gig in the works.  So life is good, whether or not the scale cooperates with me.

Oh…and this weekend I am doing one of those really awesome time change 5Ks with my girls.  We start at 1:50 AM and then the clocks will roll back so we get a nice negative PR.  It is supposed to be 20 degrees.  How awesome is that?

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