In Which I Am Insane With Insanity

Here lies the sweaty Beckie Young
who keeled over like a piece of dung.
She wanted to work out
despite the feelings of doubt
and now she is dead on the floor.

I started Insanity today. I didn't start the diet yet, as I had to get all the shit that was left over from when Amanda and Evan visited out of the house (read: in my digestive system) and go to the grocery store.

Did my measurements (what the crap, when did I get flabby again?) and weighed myself. After talking myself out of hanging myself over the number that flashed on the satanic scale, I did the Fit Test, which apparently you're supposed to do every so often so you can see how much better you're getting as the time goes by.

I made it halfway before I ended up on the floor like this. Cue twitchy lungs, the need for albuterol, excessive (even for me) sweating, and the urge to curl into the fetal position and pretend that I never spent $80 on that workout again.

So we all know that I'll be doing it again tomorrow.

In Which I Discover I Have a Butt

I've lost 15 pounds since I started dieting! Whoop whoop!

My clothes are fitting differently. I look skinnier from the side. My butt? It's almost...there. Like, I can see it. Sort of.

If you know me and my family, you know that my sister Amanda got all the butt. And the boobs, but we won't go there. My pants never fit right because I just don't have any junk in the trunk. It was once coined "Beckie's Saggy Butt Syndrome". <--and that right there is why there is a love/hate relationship among nursing school students. White scrub pants? Do not accentuate the buttocks. Case in point: Anyway, so I'm working out really hard, I'm keeping my calories around 1200 kcal/day, and I'm drinking so much water that it sounds like I've turned into the Hoover Dam every time I use the bathroom.

AND I HAVE A BUTT!!

(one that is in significant need of a massage. my poor glutes)

In Which My Reward Is Not Rewarding

I wanted to reward myself in my weight loss journey, but in the past I have rewarded myself with food and that's just a bad idea all around. So this time, I decided that I would go to the nail salon, get myself a pedicure and an eyebrow wax for losing the first 5% of my weight loss goal.

Okay, when I say eyebrows, I mean eyebrows, upper lip and mutton chops. One of the downsides of having Polycycstic Ovarian Syndrome is that I am insanely hairy thanks to excess andogren in my body. Fun. Add onto that the fact that acne and obesity are other side effects, and I'm lucky I landed a husband while I was still super hot.

So I'm laying there on the bed that they're going to wax me on, and the short little pregnant Asian lady says to me "you very hairy. you let go downhill".

Lady, you don't know the half of it.

In Which I Hate Mother Nature

Watch out, world, it's that time of the month.

If you think this is too much information for me to share, you obviously don't know me. There's no such thing as a verbal filter for me, and among nursing student/now nurses, there's nothing like the gross stuff to move along a conversation. A good bowel movement? Very important in the ways of assessments! Green vomit? Maybe it's gastroenteritis or maybe you just had too much green frosting on your cupcake last night. Burning when you pee? Gosh, I hope it's not the syph.

So I'm bitchy, and grumpy, and I gave up bread for Lent so my intake of carbs is WAY down, hence making me even more irritable.

I MAY have eaten my weight in ice cream yesterday.

But, today is a new day, and I have...

A BRAND NEW PAIR OF RUNNING SHOES!! (and awesome calves. I know this.)

So with my new shoes on, I approach my old nemesis. I didn't work out yesterday because Dan and I had to spend the morning at the DMV. I forgot to pay my registration last month...oops! So I decided that I was going to just work a little harder today to make up for it.

My phone let me run 3.85km today in 28.5 minutes, so I figure that's good enough for me. For the most part, I've cut my kcals down to between 1200-1500 per day. I'm really enjoying my Just Dance 3 for the Kinect and I find that this makes me sweat as much (if not more than) jogging on the treadmill.

I just hope no one sees me dancing around, because I totally show my white girl dance skills on this game.

In Which I--Wait, What?

I started using the Couch to 5K app on my phone. The idea is for you to train to do 5k in 30 minutes. I've done the C25K thing before, but never on my phone. So there I am, my timer counting down (you didn't really think I did over two miles in fifteen minutes, did you?!), running along (okay, running for 60 seconds and then walking for 90. Leave me alone, I'm taking baby steps in my fight to not be fat here, mmmkay?), and my phone chimes to tell me I'm done.

Um, what?

According to my calculations, 2.18 miles is roughly 3.51 km. That's 1.49 km less than what I was trying to attain.

Even my phone app thinks I'm too much of a wimp to do a full 5k.

In Which I Eat Crackers...Lots of Crackers

I am finally starting to come back to life after the evil that is known as the Norovirus. Five days of crackers, soup, and instant breakfasts. There also was a cheese debacle, but we won't discuss that (yes, Amanda, you were right, I shouldn't have tested my luck).

So basically I planted my ass on the couch and didn't do anything for a couple days. I did try a walk on Friday, and we went to the hockey game (where I was back to overcome funnel cake temptation). Sunday we went to church, but then an apple fritter got the best of me.

FYI: just because it supposedly has apple in it, this does not balance the deep fried pastry. Trust me.

Also, let us discuss cheesecake for a moment. Cheesecake is a wonderful thing, and they've got those awesome tubs of JUST THE FILLING.

TWO WORDS:
So far I have been able to mostly avoid the tastiness that is my cheesecake, but it's a daily fight. I'm trying to limit myself to small slices. Miniscule slices. Slices that could hardly be considered slices.

As far as working out, I haven't really. I've done some walking, but that's the extent. I'm going to attempt the gym today after I bring my kids to school, so we will see how that goes. I may have to bring my trusty barf bucket.

Charming, eh?

Original Weigh In: FAT.
1st Week Weigh In: LOST 11 pounds!!

In Which I Take The Lead

I have spent the past two days with my head alternating between being in a toilet, or positioned being over a bucket. I got the stomach bug that's been going around. I had it in my mind to post a picture (tasteful picture of someone's head in a toilet?) but when I searched Google Images, the vast amounts of porn disturbed me so much that I kind of had the urge to barf again.

So no pictures of THAT.

Anywho, the upside of this bug was that I have lost 8 lbs in 2 days. Pretty sure that the reason for this is because there is absolutely nothing left in my digestive system, but hey, we take what we can get. At least this didn't happen:

Also, I got to watch television by myself all day (and yes, Amanda, this means that I was watching "that show" again. Do not come between me and my truckers again!) and eat Ritz crackers while sipping on miniscule amounts of Gatorade. Since Dan was working, I sent him a beautiful picture of my "I am sick" set-up.

Look! It's what every nerdy girl needs when she's ill! Her computer, her glasses, her PS3 controller and rations! The only thing that's missing is the Skyrim strategy guide that was on my lap.

Now I'm feeling back to my snarky, evil self. God help us all. We're heading to a hockey game tonight, and I'm hoping that my stomach will remember how it felt these past couple of days before it starts demanding rink dogs.

In Which I Overindulged

I met my original goal this past year and then promptly gained twenty-five pounds back.

I am ashamed.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day, and I took full advantage of the chocolate, the heart shaped doughnuts, the hibatchi lunch, the steak dinner with a bottle of wine and cake balls dipped in chocolate.

I'm paying for it now.

Not only am I sick as hell from all that fat, but I don't fit in my skinny pants anymore. I have two pairs of pants that fit and don't make me feel like an Ice Road Trucker needs to be putting an "Oversize Load" sign on my rear end.


Why yes, yes I do have an unhealthy obsession with Ice Road Truckers. Disregard this level of nerdiness (more like AWESOMENESS).

In other news, my sister got herself a boyfriend. Even more shocking, I adore her boyfriend. He's at almost the same level of epic as I am. 98% to my 100%. Anyway, the two of them will be visiting next month and so he and I agreed to a friendly bet. Biggest Loser. Let's do this, Evan.

In Which I Dream of Killing Jillian Michaels

There is less than two months until my sister Jessi is getting married. This means that I will be stuffed into a halter style bridesmaid dress and three and a half inch heels, given a bouquet of flowers, and be forced to stand in front of a congregation of friends, family, and people I've never met.

Commence panic.

Now really, I let myself go a little. I put on about fifteen (okay, twenty) pounds since April, just from being lazy and not eating right...and too much beer.

So I planned this whole diet and exercise thing, and the first thing I did was get onto Amazon and find myself a workout DVD. I watched Biggest Loser for the first time this past season, and so I figured I would start there. It led me to Jillian Michaels.

While Jillian's face bothers me, there's no denying that the chick has an awesome body. So I bought it, and started yesterday. I also decided that I'd go back to the Couch to 5K program on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Match that with a 1500 kcal diet and I figured I'd be good.

Of course, because it's me, it didn't end up that way.

Y'all, this Shred in 30 is HARD. I think I'm fairly in shape, even for being slightly overweight. But Jillian kicked my ass up and down and then made me wish I was dead. Then my stupid ass went to the gym and attempted to do the C25K thing.

I was supposed to start with a brisk 5 minute walk and then alternate 60 seconds of jogging with 90 seconds of walking for twenty minutes.

I FAILED.

I was only able to jog for 2 of the sessions, and the sweat was pooling in that unfortunate spot between my boobs. I got a cramp in my side, and while I tried to do the whole "breathe like you're breathing through a straw" thing, I couldn't do it. I made it 20 minutes, and then had to give up.

And felt like an epic failure.

This morning, I attempted to hop out of bed, but I had to carefully ROLL off the bed, because my abdominal muscles are so freaking sore. During my short walk to the master bath, I realized that my ass cheeks were burning. Squats and lunges and jumping are just hateful to my glutes.

So we'll see how this goes. I am masochistic, so therefore I'll be doing it again when I get out of clinical today. I've packed my lunch for school (apples, cheese stick, half a pb sammich), I'm currently eating some apple and cinnamon oatmeal, and I put fat free creamer in my coffee. I can do this, right? It's only 25 pounds...

Right?

In Which I Decide To Make This A Lifestyle Change

I realize that it's been a week since the new year began.

I also realize that by now most people have given up on their resolutions.

It hit me last night: This isn't just a 2011 resolution. I want to become a healthier person for the rest of my life. It's really hard to take the first steps, but today, that's what I've done.

I started taking my medications again. As an almost nurse, I know I was wrong in stopping them, but as an insecure woman, I didn't want the stigma of being labeled as "crazy". Over the past several days I've come to the realization that depression and anxiety are diseases and I need to treat them as such, regardless of what people think. I'm not crazy, I just have a chemical imbalance and I live a very stressful life between going to school, working, raising two children and being a supportive wife to a husband who works 14 hours overnight in a position that he's very new to. I'm also a daughter, a sister and a friend who prides herself on being there for anyone whenever they need me.

So meds were the first step. Working out is the next. I'm heading to the gym after I get off the computer. Five days a week, no excuses. I'm going to start going to 90 degree yoga once a week. I loved going to yoga when I was doing it with my best friend Dejan, but somehow we fell out of it. I figure that I love yoga, and I already sweat like a pig, so I might as well have a reason for sweating (note to self: buy clinical strength deodorant/antiperspirant).

Yet another step is taking the starches out of my diet. No rice, no potatoes, no pasta (GAH!), no bread (DOUBLE GAH!) and NO BEER (kill me now). It just goes straight to my stomach and since the hubs and I will be going to the beach for our 8th anniversary in May, I'd really like to be able to wear a bikini. Bikini=goal. Add into that that I will be a bridesmaid in not one but TWO weddings this year, it would make me really happy to actually look good in my bridesmaid dresses (though I know I won't be nearly as beautiful as my best friend Christie and sister Jessi, of course).

Mostly, I just want to stop hating myself when I look in the mirror. It was suggested to me that I write a list of 10 things that I like about myself in dry erase marker on my bathroom so I can remind myself of that every day. I came up with three things...that can't be a good thing. I'm hoping to slowly but surely add to that list.

Let the start of self-discovery commence.