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In which we progress slowly, without drama
[This bout of shameless bragging brought to you by the letter A for Awesome]
No pain, no gain. That’s what they say.
They can tell it to my abs, which are currently so sore that even menstrual cramps sound pleasant. This is what happens when you try a new exercise and, while you’re doing it, think Hey, I can really feel this working! Awesome! More reps! More! More, I say!
More sense would have more useful.
Other things they say: when you lose a lot of weight, your balance and coordination can’t keep up with you. And so, for a while, you feel less capable and the weight loss actually seems counter productive.
I’ll vouch for that. I’m estimating that I’ve lost about twenty pounds since last September, and there are days when I can’t do even a modified Tree pose. That’s right. There are days when I try to stand on one leg and fail. And if I happen to be benchmarking on the Wii, it chirps “Your leg is a little unstable” and I contemplate electronic murder. Really? I have one arm stretched towards Kansas and the other windmilling towards Mexico and one leg flailing out to the Gulf of Mexico while I try not to fall down, and a computer program thinks I might be a little unstable?
And some days things are ok. Because I haven’t lost all that weight in a nice, steady, pound-a-week style the way they say you should. No, I prefer the panic cycle: lose weight, lose weight, celebrate my awesomeness, panic, sulk, lose weight, lose weight, celebrate my awesomeness…
On the upside, I’m able to readjust my balance periodically and there are days when I ride and realize my core is no longer a bowl of jello. It’s now a marshmallow. Days like this weekend, when we were doing some shoulder in and I realized I wasn’t fighting my body. Or when we started a canter exercise, and I realized I not only wasn’t fighting my body—I also had better control over it. Or when we work on stretching down and out and the horse’s head and neck disappear from in front of me and I don’t feel like I am going to fall right over his ears because my aids are becoming increasingly independent and stabilized.
It was a good weekend.
Then I tried some new ab exercises. That was stupid. I should rejoice in my marshmallow abs for a while and stop worrying about transforming them into… what comes after marshmallows, anyway?
Pain, that’s what. Must… remember… this weekend. This was a good weekend. I’m halfway to my ultimate goal. Inevitably, I’ll be spending time over the next few months looking like a mutant pinwheel while trying to stand on one leg, but balance and coordination will come back. And it feels pretty good when it does.
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Comments
Mmm… Cookie dough. I think it’s about time to celebrate my awesomeness again, and cookie dough sounds like an excellent way to do that.
All you ladies talking about losing weight and getting in shape and working out on your blogs are making me feel very sloth-like and I think perhaps you should just put your feet up and relax like I’m doing (which is code for “I am impressed, keep it up!”). And yes Jane that includes you….
Roflol Marissa! I, er, haven’t been to the gym for two days (I think when it tries to kill you, you need a break from each other). You can blame the whole get in shape thing on Bella, who got me going with that photo, and the candy replacement program, which shrank all my jeans in the wash. (I don’t know how the candy managed to do the laundry?)
And okay, I really really sucked during the ride in which I needed my abs. My natural state is one of sloth-like feet putting up, with my very good friends Ben and Jerry. It’s hard to fight nature.
How are you hanging in HNX? Should I pass the pint?
I fell off the exercise bandwagon, but things are really stressful right now, so I’m losing weight anyway. It’s probably time to celebrate my awesomeness again—lost weight is lost weight, right? I don’t think my self-contract specifies I can only count stuff lost while doing healthy, muscle-building exercise. I’m sure I would have objected.
So sure—pass a pint. Even better if the pint is Guinness and the Guinness is drowning some ice cream, because a good beer float is always a good thing.
Then I need to get back on an exercise program. I did three semi-squats yesterday trying to dislodge a very contented cat from my lap. That counts, right?
*passing pint of Guinness and tub of ice cream with scooper handily pre-inserted*
I’m with you. It doesn’t matter how I lose weight. Though originally my goal was simply to get in shape, hoping a by product would be fitting back into my pants.
Cat squats count. Absolutely! I bench press the dog every morning when he wakes me up by standing on my chest. Hey that’s 18 lbs before I’m even awake!
On Jan 20, 2010, Jane said:
*flipping pages*
Ah…here we have it. The Ab Progression:
1. Koolaide (see? you were in shape!)
2. Jello
3. Marshmallows
4. Cookie Dough
5. Aunt Myrtle’s over baked fruitcake (makes a great doorstop)
6. Rock Candy Hard Abs
Voila! You’re half way there. You GO girl.
(can we please ignore the progression is, uh, all food related, and pretend it makes sense?)