It's been a while since my last post. I haven't regressed or stopped my training; on the contrary, I'm busier than ever with it. But life has a way of blasting through the best intentions sometimes, and because my life has sped up recently, something had to go. It wasn't going to be time with my family, my job, or training and losing weight. My blog took a hit for the team, and that's why I haven't been around lately.
SO: since our last episode, I've continued working hard and am now at 62 pounds lost, more clothes sizes lost, and am stronger and healthier than ever. (Yay!) I went through a pretty lengthy plateau - a few months - but the fine people at Elite helped me break through that. Although I'm not losing as much, hand over fist, the way I was at the beginning, I can now pretty much count on losing about 5 pounds a month. I'll take that, thank you. The journey continues, better than ever!
So, recently a few people have asked me how I've managed to do this great and wonderful thing. They are seeing a healthier and smaller me, like I popped out of the box that way. What they are ACTUALLY seeing is the result of eleven months of work-like-a-dog, learn-like-your-life-depends-on-it (because-it-does), be-honest-in-the-food-diary-every-single-freaking-day, come-to-every-class-or-else, sweat-is-your-friend, and you-only-think-you're-dying-but-you're-really-not. Let me be real clear about this: the hardest part about this entire journey has been learning to have faith in my trainers and also in myself. Having the guts to show up to the first class in the first place. Having the willingness to come back to the second class, knowing how hard it's going to be (kind of like having that second baby; ignorance is bliss). Having the trust to listen to what the trainers are saying, and believing them. Having the willingness to APPLY what they're saying. Having the belief that I CAN make it to the end of this exercise. The entire journey is about repetition. Finish this exercise. Finish that exercise. Do that a few times, then rest. Repeat. That gets me to the end of the class. Same thing two days later. Do that a few times, and before you know it, a month has gone by. So many changes happened in the first month that it became much easier very quickly to completely trust what my trainers were saying. Trust in them and belief in me is what has gotten me through. So, now that I've had a chance to think about it a little, if someone were to ask me again how I've managed to do this journey, I have my answer. It's not very earth-shattering or sexy, it's not glamorous or the latest popular mantra, but people, it works. Ready? Here we go:
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
Do what they say. Don't give up.
No shortcuts. Only way through it, is through it. Accept it and live it.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Today's lesson
Workouts make you sore.
What makes the soreness go away?
Working out.
Workouts giveth, and workouts taketh away.
Thus ends the lesson.
How weird is that?
What makes the soreness go away?
Working out.
Workouts giveth, and workouts taketh away.
Thus ends the lesson.
How weird is that?
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Cloudy with a chance of pushups
As I've said in a previous post, given enough time, even the densest Neanderthal will notice a pattern eventually. Well, I've noticed a pattern of workout styles. I'd love to be able to forecast what's coming each day I go, but on the other hand...sometimes it's best just to be surprised. Ignorance can be bliss. But, as I said, there are different workout styles, where all the exercises on one day have something in common but are completely different than the exercises on another day. Not having formal education on the subject, I can only hazard a guess as to the rhyme and reason of it all, and (the best part) make up my own names for the styles.
The Shock-and-Awe: the first day. What doesn't kill us makes us really, really scared to come back the second day.
The Wheezy-Breezy-Cover-Girl: lots of cardio.
The Wolfpack: lots of weights (owwwwww, get it?)
The T-rex: lots of arms and shoulder work.
The Labor-and-Delivery: lots of ab work
The Shotgun-Blast: some of everything, designed to make you weep like a child and wonder what you ever did to make God hate you this much.
The Widow-Maker: when your trainer thinks you're progressing and raises the bar. Always a fun day, that one.
I know there's a plan and that all this works together, but I haven't the faintest clue as to why it's designed the way it is, or how to predict the pattern. Good news is, with good trainers, I don't have to know why; all I have to do is trust and not give up. Ours is not to reason why; ours is just to try not to die. Or something like that.
The Shock-and-Awe: the first day. What doesn't kill us makes us really, really scared to come back the second day.
The Wheezy-Breezy-Cover-Girl: lots of cardio.
The Wolfpack: lots of weights (owwwwww, get it?)
The T-rex: lots of arms and shoulder work.
The Labor-and-Delivery: lots of ab work
The Shotgun-Blast: some of everything, designed to make you weep like a child and wonder what you ever did to make God hate you this much.
The Widow-Maker: when your trainer thinks you're progressing and raises the bar. Always a fun day, that one.
I know there's a plan and that all this works together, but I haven't the faintest clue as to why it's designed the way it is, or how to predict the pattern. Good news is, with good trainers, I don't have to know why; all I have to do is trust and not give up. Ours is not to reason why; ours is just to try not to die. Or something like that.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
If Steve Irwin were my trainer
Portions of the proceeding have been taken from The Crocodile Hunter by Steve and Terri Irwin.
Imagine all this with an Australian accent.
On greeting me at the door and being way too damn cheerful: "G'day, mate! Are you ready to work hard and improve yourself? Are you ready to make a profound difference in your life and the lives of the people who love you? LET'S GET STARTED!" [There is a 90% chance I would turn around and go home right here.]
On making me do squat jumps: "Crikey, mate, was that your knee that just popped?"
On my reaction after he tells me that the whole painful circuit I just completed will now be repeated: "Ohhh, that was naughty, you're a grumpy sheilah aren't you, but you're beautiful! [Speaking to TV audience] Now see, she tried to bite me but it's not her fault, it's my fault for putting pressure on her. I've got to be careful to respect her in her environment because if I don't, she'll tag me. That's nature's way!"
On my snarling at him when he tells me I have "just 20 more seconds!": "Beautiful!"
On telling me he wants to take an update picture: [Speaking to TV audience] "There's been an increasing number of reports of nuisance behavior displayed by this client from humans wandering into her territory with recording devices. The actual truth of this so-called nuisance behavior is that the poor old client is feeling threatened and reacting accordingly. What a shame! This client is a perfect example of a creature just trying to improve herself and she doesn't understand that recording devices, and the humans who carry them, won't hurt her."
On my glaring at him when he makes me do ropes: "Awesome!"
On him telling me to do a particular exercise that I despise above all others so I just say, "No": "Whether it's koalas or crocodiles or clients, we must begin to understand that they have rules just like trainers do. If we play by the rules we can coexist quite easily, even with the most awesome predators and customers."
On my swearing under my breath when he drops a big weight in my arms and tells me to hike it up in the air 20 times: "Gorgeous!"
On him showing me how to do a new exercise: "During our numerous demonstrations every day here at the gym, we show visitors how certain clients function in the wild. Whether it's an otter catching her own fish, or a saltwater crocodile trying to catch the keeper or a client trying to lift weights on the Bosu, every demonstration is a learning experience."
On my FINALLY making it through tricep dips: "What a little ripper!"
On my first-ever minute-long plank: "Holy snappin' duck poo!"
On sending me home after the workout: "My aim is to continue producing more workout programs to improve and enlighten. We'll take the audience to some of the wildest and remotest gyms in the world. I gain more power and understanding of clients if I'm right in among them, and I'm finding myself doing more and more of the filming, as it's hard or too dangerous to get a cameraman in as close as I want to be. Hearing, smelling, and seeing the client and its surroundings is always my prime objective. From here we're saving the world."
Imagine all this with an Australian accent.
On greeting me at the door and being way too damn cheerful: "G'day, mate! Are you ready to work hard and improve yourself? Are you ready to make a profound difference in your life and the lives of the people who love you? LET'S GET STARTED!" [There is a 90% chance I would turn around and go home right here.]
On making me do squat jumps: "Crikey, mate, was that your knee that just popped?"
On my reaction after he tells me that the whole painful circuit I just completed will now be repeated: "Ohhh, that was naughty, you're a grumpy sheilah aren't you, but you're beautiful! [Speaking to TV audience] Now see, she tried to bite me but it's not her fault, it's my fault for putting pressure on her. I've got to be careful to respect her in her environment because if I don't, she'll tag me. That's nature's way!"
On my snarling at him when he tells me I have "just 20 more seconds!": "Beautiful!"
On telling me he wants to take an update picture: [Speaking to TV audience] "There's been an increasing number of reports of nuisance behavior displayed by this client from humans wandering into her territory with recording devices. The actual truth of this so-called nuisance behavior is that the poor old client is feeling threatened and reacting accordingly. What a shame! This client is a perfect example of a creature just trying to improve herself and she doesn't understand that recording devices, and the humans who carry them, won't hurt her."
On my glaring at him when he makes me do ropes: "Awesome!"
On him telling me to do a particular exercise that I despise above all others so I just say, "No": "Whether it's koalas or crocodiles or clients, we must begin to understand that they have rules just like trainers do. If we play by the rules we can coexist quite easily, even with the most awesome predators and customers."
On my swearing under my breath when he drops a big weight in my arms and tells me to hike it up in the air 20 times: "Gorgeous!"
On him showing me how to do a new exercise: "During our numerous demonstrations every day here at the gym, we show visitors how certain clients function in the wild. Whether it's an otter catching her own fish, or a saltwater crocodile trying to catch the keeper or a client trying to lift weights on the Bosu, every demonstration is a learning experience."
On my FINALLY making it through tricep dips: "What a little ripper!"
On my first-ever minute-long plank: "Holy snappin' duck poo!"
On sending me home after the workout: "My aim is to continue producing more workout programs to improve and enlighten. We'll take the audience to some of the wildest and remotest gyms in the world. I gain more power and understanding of clients if I'm right in among them, and I'm finding myself doing more and more of the filming, as it's hard or too dangerous to get a cameraman in as close as I want to be. Hearing, smelling, and seeing the client and its surroundings is always my prime objective. From here we're saving the world."
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Great expectations
The happiest surprise I've had since beginning my fitness journey was simply finding out that I could live through it. It took months before I felt reasonably certain I could actually do an entire class without a) fainting or b) bursting into tears and coming to a cold stop. After that, I truly enjoyed the expectation of being able to make a good finish, and that, let me tell you, was a happy day. No more did I see the upcoming circuit and think, "This will be the part where I fall down dead," or "It's almost cute, how ambitious these trainers are, they'll be so disappointed when I throw up." Now I could look at the lineup on the board and, although it sometimes made me tremble in my boots, I had enough confidence to think that I really could do it. Probably.
Then I took up running.
I didn't know that the whole process would start over. I thought I knew what to expect by now, I thought it would be a simple matter, just to run. I mean, yes it would be work, but it would be very straightforward work. I will set a goal, I will start and I will finish, I thought to myself. No if's, and's, or but's. Simple! But then I made my first blindly confident (read: dumb-as-rocks-naive) attempt of "I'm not getting off this treadmill until I do X number of miles" and I realized just what I was up against. WHEN DID MILES GET SO LONG?!? IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS TREADMILL?!? I would be willing to bet that Hannibal's troops felt like I did when the Big Guy said, "You're gonna cross that" - pointing to the Alps - "on one of these" - slapping an elephant's rump.
So, after a few times at the YMCA, running my heart out on those God-forsaken treadmills that I am convinced are all broken, I realized that once again, I was in a position where I didn't think I could do it. The entire time I was on those things I kept thinking, "No way, it's not gonna happen, I can't do this, it hurts AAAARRRGHHH I want off this thing!" I had visions of my inert, unconscious body just lying on the mat and getting sucked underneath, never to be seen again. But by sheer cussedness (and channeling my trainers' voices when things got really bad) I've managed to stay on AND finish AND beat my previous time each time I do it, but by God it has been a battle, both physically and mentally. Exactly like when I first started going to workout class. Exactly. It's hard for me to see right now, but I would hope that, like my workout classes, one day I will get on that thing and be strong enough and experienced enough to KNOW that I can finish well, without having to go all psycho-drill-sergeant on myself.
So what does this tell us? What have we learned from this?
1. It could be worse. I could be crossing the Alps on an elephant. All things considered, I'd rather be at the Y.
2. Treadmills suck. And they lie. But they get the job done, so I'll keep using the &^%$# things.
Then I took up running.
I didn't know that the whole process would start over. I thought I knew what to expect by now, I thought it would be a simple matter, just to run. I mean, yes it would be work, but it would be very straightforward work. I will set a goal, I will start and I will finish, I thought to myself. No if's, and's, or but's. Simple! But then I made my first blindly confident (read: dumb-as-rocks-naive) attempt of "I'm not getting off this treadmill until I do X number of miles" and I realized just what I was up against. WHEN DID MILES GET SO LONG?!? IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS TREADMILL?!? I would be willing to bet that Hannibal's troops felt like I did when the Big Guy said, "You're gonna cross that" - pointing to the Alps - "on one of these" - slapping an elephant's rump.
So, after a few times at the YMCA, running my heart out on those God-forsaken treadmills that I am convinced are all broken, I realized that once again, I was in a position where I didn't think I could do it. The entire time I was on those things I kept thinking, "No way, it's not gonna happen, I can't do this, it hurts AAAARRRGHHH I want off this thing!" I had visions of my inert, unconscious body just lying on the mat and getting sucked underneath, never to be seen again. But by sheer cussedness (and channeling my trainers' voices when things got really bad) I've managed to stay on AND finish AND beat my previous time each time I do it, but by God it has been a battle, both physically and mentally. Exactly like when I first started going to workout class. Exactly. It's hard for me to see right now, but I would hope that, like my workout classes, one day I will get on that thing and be strong enough and experienced enough to KNOW that I can finish well, without having to go all psycho-drill-sergeant on myself.
So what does this tell us? What have we learned from this?
1. It could be worse. I could be crossing the Alps on an elephant. All things considered, I'd rather be at the Y.
2. Treadmills suck. And they lie. But they get the job done, so I'll keep using the &^%$# things.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
These are a few of my favorite things
THINGS I LIKE
Opting to go to the DMV and renew my driver's license instead of doing it online, because I get to have a new picture taken. YEAH, BABY!
Having the new batch of clothes I got just a few months ago (when I first lost weight) get baggy. Have to go shopping again. Darn.
Being able to cross my legs without cutting off circulation. Always a plus.
And speaking of plus...how about shopping for non-plus-sized clothes?!?
Throwing away medication that the doctor says I don't need anymore.
Making my husband's eyes fall right out of his head when I walk into a room.
The total bliss I feel five minutes after I finish a workout and which goes for hours. (The first five minutes are usually spent panting, crawling towards my water, and wishing desperately I didn't feel like roadkill. But after that I feel GREAT!)
THINGS I DON'T LIKE
Walking like a cowboy twenty-four hours after doing a lot of leg exercises. Very embarrassing.
T-rex arms that always come right after a lot of arm or shoulder exercises. Also very embarrassing, but would be easier to handle if I only had a grabber-stick. I could really use one of those.
Those annoying voices in my head that urge me to give up, cut myself some slack, not work so hard. As I told one of my trainers recently, "If I'm going to hear voices in my head, they'd better darn well be the right ones."
Having a ponytail long enough to curl right over the top of my head and poke me in the eyes when I do mountain-climbers.
Mountain-climbers.
Needing to scratch something right after I've picked up weights. It always happens.
The deep distrust and suspicion I feel whenever I have to depend on the TRX to hold me up and not pull right out of the wall, dumping me on my butt. I know, I know, I know, it's not going to happen...but I feel certain that somewhere, it has happened to someone. That could be me.
Along the same lines, working with the resistance bands. It's like scraping nails on a blackboard, stretching those things, I cringe every time. I just know one day those things will snap and pop my head right off. Add 2 cups of paranoia and stir well.
I will happily add more as they come to light. Cheers!
Opting to go to the DMV and renew my driver's license instead of doing it online, because I get to have a new picture taken. YEAH, BABY!
Having the new batch of clothes I got just a few months ago (when I first lost weight) get baggy. Have to go shopping again. Darn.
Being able to cross my legs without cutting off circulation. Always a plus.
And speaking of plus...how about shopping for non-plus-sized clothes?!?
Throwing away medication that the doctor says I don't need anymore.
Making my husband's eyes fall right out of his head when I walk into a room.
The total bliss I feel five minutes after I finish a workout and which goes for hours. (The first five minutes are usually spent panting, crawling towards my water, and wishing desperately I didn't feel like roadkill. But after that I feel GREAT!)
THINGS I DON'T LIKE
Walking like a cowboy twenty-four hours after doing a lot of leg exercises. Very embarrassing.
T-rex arms that always come right after a lot of arm or shoulder exercises. Also very embarrassing, but would be easier to handle if I only had a grabber-stick. I could really use one of those.
Those annoying voices in my head that urge me to give up, cut myself some slack, not work so hard. As I told one of my trainers recently, "If I'm going to hear voices in my head, they'd better darn well be the right ones."
Having a ponytail long enough to curl right over the top of my head and poke me in the eyes when I do mountain-climbers.
Mountain-climbers.
Needing to scratch something right after I've picked up weights. It always happens.
The deep distrust and suspicion I feel whenever I have to depend on the TRX to hold me up and not pull right out of the wall, dumping me on my butt. I know, I know, I know, it's not going to happen...but I feel certain that somewhere, it has happened to someone. That could be me.
Along the same lines, working with the resistance bands. It's like scraping nails on a blackboard, stretching those things, I cringe every time. I just know one day those things will snap and pop my head right off. Add 2 cups of paranoia and stir well.
I will happily add more as they come to light. Cheers!
Saturday, January 10, 2015
I need me some John Wayne
This was a painful post to write. Just sayin'. You'll see why.
Detail-oriented perfectionists would love to define "life" as a series of planned and controlled events from birth to death. I can say this because I am one such control freak, which is how I know that real life, therefore, bears no resemblance to that definition and can drive us perfectionists nuts in no time flat.
Real life is a lot more messy.
Oh, sure, we can try to be like the butterflies of life, who can't plan their way to the end of a sentence and who bump along in life, reacting to each event on a case-by-case basis and looking surprised by each one, never learning a lesson well enough to do things differently next time. But you might as well ask a perfectionist to fly to the moon as live like that. We would explode into thousands of tiny pieces at such a disturbance in the Force.
Detail-oriented perfectionists memorize things that no one else would, which is why I still remember my "being" verbs from 5th grade. In order. We get caught up in habits, because once we've perfected something's efficiency, why change it? We keep receipts and actually read them so that we can correct salespeople, and we drive our kids up the wall with Learning Opportunities ("Now, sweetie, which of these dish detergents gives you the best value for the price?" "Mom, we came in here for bananas, can we go now?"). We're the ones who straighten pictures on a wall, parallel-park fourteen times until it's "just right", and read back over a test to see what we've gotten wrong, even though we made a 98. If we weren't right so often, we'd be locked away in a looney bin, and the reason we know we're right is because WE KEEP OUR RECEIPTS TO PROVE IT.
So when I began my fitness journey and was given a crash-course in food diaries and meal planning, I seized the opportunity to chart something, anything, with glee. I made my spreadsheets and sharpened my pencils. I paid attention to my trainers' advice, printed out and read their instructions (even used a highlighter - I'm such a geek), and asked them a million questions. Faithfully, every morning, I worked on my food diary for the day. I learned how to read nutrition labels. If you'll forgive the expression, I was in hog heaven. Since it was summer, I didn't have to deal with my kids' schools, I was out of school for a few months, and work was quiet. I figured out a few simple foods that I liked that were quick and easy to keep on hand, so I didn't have to plan or cook all that much, just reach in the fridge and grab them to satisfy both my hunger and my daily nutrition requirements. I can do this, no sweat, I thought. It doesn't take THAT much planning. I don't have to do as much as they're telling me to do.
Then fall came, and life started coming apart at the seams.
School (1 elementary, 1 high school, 1 college). Band. Work. Holidays. Shorter days but more stuff that had to happen. Suddenly, it was harder to stick to my plans, my routines, my intentions, my schedule. I started getting tired of all those quick and easy foods that I'd been having 7 days a week for the last several months. The weight loss slowed down a little. Sticking to the food diary - even just recording in it - just became a hassle, especially since I was eating all the same things, over and over. All the planning I'd been doing suddenly seemed so exhausting, so cumbersome, but every time I didn't plan, I'd get into trouble. Sooner or later, even the densest Neanderthal will notice a pattern. I remembered snippets of my trainers' words about planning and how important it was, and I realized that huh, you know, maybe they're right...
Detail-oriented perfectionists also have a hard time admitting they're wrong. Just in case you were wondering.
Stage 1: I can do this! I can do this! Just tell me what to do, you got it!
Stage 2: This is hard, but I'm not giving up.
Stage 3: Wow, look how far I've come! It has been so worth it!
Stage 4: SCREW THIS, I WANT SOMETHING ELSE!
So I'd reached Stage 4, which might not have been a problem except for one little thing: I wasn't healthy yet. I was healthIER, but not healthy. Still had a lot of weight to lose. Still have a long ways to go, a really long ways. Time to stop talking and get back to work. Or, in true John-Wayne-fashion, show some True Grit. Life isn't what happens between the speed bumps, it IS the speed bumps. Not learning to deal with it would be the height of stupidity.
Stage 5: I am an idiot. Perhaps I should go back to the basics. Perhaps I should listen more. Perhaps I should plan.
Detail-oriented perfectionists would love to define "life" as a series of planned and controlled events from birth to death. I can say this because I am one such control freak, which is how I know that real life, therefore, bears no resemblance to that definition and can drive us perfectionists nuts in no time flat.
Real life is a lot more messy.
Oh, sure, we can try to be like the butterflies of life, who can't plan their way to the end of a sentence and who bump along in life, reacting to each event on a case-by-case basis and looking surprised by each one, never learning a lesson well enough to do things differently next time. But you might as well ask a perfectionist to fly to the moon as live like that. We would explode into thousands of tiny pieces at such a disturbance in the Force.
Detail-oriented perfectionists memorize things that no one else would, which is why I still remember my "being" verbs from 5th grade. In order. We get caught up in habits, because once we've perfected something's efficiency, why change it? We keep receipts and actually read them so that we can correct salespeople, and we drive our kids up the wall with Learning Opportunities ("Now, sweetie, which of these dish detergents gives you the best value for the price?" "Mom, we came in here for bananas, can we go now?"). We're the ones who straighten pictures on a wall, parallel-park fourteen times until it's "just right", and read back over a test to see what we've gotten wrong, even though we made a 98. If we weren't right so often, we'd be locked away in a looney bin, and the reason we know we're right is because WE KEEP OUR RECEIPTS TO PROVE IT.
So when I began my fitness journey and was given a crash-course in food diaries and meal planning, I seized the opportunity to chart something, anything, with glee. I made my spreadsheets and sharpened my pencils. I paid attention to my trainers' advice, printed out and read their instructions (even used a highlighter - I'm such a geek), and asked them a million questions. Faithfully, every morning, I worked on my food diary for the day. I learned how to read nutrition labels. If you'll forgive the expression, I was in hog heaven. Since it was summer, I didn't have to deal with my kids' schools, I was out of school for a few months, and work was quiet. I figured out a few simple foods that I liked that were quick and easy to keep on hand, so I didn't have to plan or cook all that much, just reach in the fridge and grab them to satisfy both my hunger and my daily nutrition requirements. I can do this, no sweat, I thought. It doesn't take THAT much planning. I don't have to do as much as they're telling me to do.
Then fall came, and life started coming apart at the seams.
School (1 elementary, 1 high school, 1 college). Band. Work. Holidays. Shorter days but more stuff that had to happen. Suddenly, it was harder to stick to my plans, my routines, my intentions, my schedule. I started getting tired of all those quick and easy foods that I'd been having 7 days a week for the last several months. The weight loss slowed down a little. Sticking to the food diary - even just recording in it - just became a hassle, especially since I was eating all the same things, over and over. All the planning I'd been doing suddenly seemed so exhausting, so cumbersome, but every time I didn't plan, I'd get into trouble. Sooner or later, even the densest Neanderthal will notice a pattern. I remembered snippets of my trainers' words about planning and how important it was, and I realized that huh, you know, maybe they're right...
Detail-oriented perfectionists also have a hard time admitting they're wrong. Just in case you were wondering.
Stage 1: I can do this! I can do this! Just tell me what to do, you got it!
Stage 2: This is hard, but I'm not giving up.
Stage 3: Wow, look how far I've come! It has been so worth it!
Stage 4: SCREW THIS, I WANT SOMETHING ELSE!
So I'd reached Stage 4, which might not have been a problem except for one little thing: I wasn't healthy yet. I was healthIER, but not healthy. Still had a lot of weight to lose. Still have a long ways to go, a really long ways. Time to stop talking and get back to work. Or, in true John-Wayne-fashion, show some True Grit. Life isn't what happens between the speed bumps, it IS the speed bumps. Not learning to deal with it would be the height of stupidity.
Stage 5: I am an idiot. Perhaps I should go back to the basics. Perhaps I should listen more. Perhaps I should plan.
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