30 Second Shred.

This evening I tried the Level 1 workout of Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred for the first time. Almost immediately I was discouraged when the workout began with push ups. I barely squeaked out two (on my knees at that) before I was maxed. I failed to make it through the entire 30 second set of jumping jacks, and when "jumping rope" it was all I could do to bounce let alone have my feet leave the floor. Having only five pound weights, I discovered during several of the other exercises that I had to completely forgo using them, five pounds proving to be too much. During the lunging exercises, I was barely able to lower into a squat. To add insult to injury, I was reminded just how inflexible I am during the cool down. As embarrassing as it is to admit all of this, I am further shamed to reveal that I actually cried once the workout was over (and not out of joy or happiness). 

There is no other way to say this - I am completely disgusted with myself. I have let myself become a lazy, lethargic individual who does not want to exert even the tiniest amount of effort beyond what is absolutely necessary in any given day. How the hell did I let myself get THIS out of shape? More importantly, how do I get myself back on track?

One thing is clear - this is going to be a much longer, much more difficult journey than I had originally anticipated. I just need to remember that everything in life is a process and I will not be perfect at everything on the first, second, or even the hundredth try. It is okay to fail, as long as I keep getting up, dusting myself off, and trying again. As frustrating as the slow progress may seem, taking baby steps to reach my goals is better than taking no steps at all.      

The dark side of getting older.

Dear Metabolism,

I suffered deep and utter embarrassment today when at the university health benefits fair I had to divulge my weight to a petite (and very much skinny) younger woman.

(Yes, I am at the age now when suddenly because I work on a college campus most everyone must be younger than I am.)

(Except for tenured faculty, of course.)

(And perhaps the secretaries of the various departments on campus.)

I "volunteered" to tell this woman my weight so that she could tell me:

• (a) that I am obese according to my body mass index (of which, by the way, the Wii Fit had already informed me months ago thankyouverymuch) and
• (b) that my body fat percentage also lies outside of the healthy range (what a shocker there).

So, my older and increasingly loathed (not to mention much slower) metabolism, would it really be so hard to function at the capacity of my late teens/early twenties?

It sure would make things a whole lot easier on me.

(And by that I mean I could continue to eat whatever I want, whenever I want.)

(After all, the unhealthy choices just taste so much better.)

Begrudgingly yours,
One Not So Mindful Eater

A Case of the Mondays.

Today, I definitely had a case of the Mondays.

1. I turned my alarm off in my sleep, waking up an hour after my alarm had been set to go off.
2. After already running late for work due to the alarm fiasco, my cat Gabriel had yet another hairball, which I then had to stop getting ready for work to clean up.
3. Feeling guilty about the hairball and despite the fact I brush Gabriel regularly, I made myself even more late by spending several minutes grooming Gabriel in the hopes that I wouldn't arrive home from work this evening to more hairballs (we shall see - I'm not holding my breath on this one).
4. While getting in my car so I could finally be on my way to work, I knocked over my mug in the center console cup holder, spilling orange juice all over the passenger seat.
   
5. I found out the house I had my heart set on buying (it is down the street from my sister and her family, and would have been absolutely perfect for me) has been sold, which greatly dampens my enthusiasm towards buying a house.
6. Late last week my co-worker and I ate lunch at Pizza Hut, where I decided I was in the mood for a stuffed crust pizza (which only comes in large, by the way). After working all weekend and forgetting to take the leftover pizza home, I sat the pizza box by my computer this afternoon so I would surely not once again forget it. Naturally, as I was driving to my second job, I realized I left the pizza sitting on my desk - and am now without dinner for the evening.

All trivial things, I know (except for the house thing - I really am upset about that), but it just doesn't make for a good start to the week. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

The End of a Tradition?

Last night as I was watching the news, a story aired that caused me great sadness. Emmis Communications, a broadcasting company that for the last 26 years has sponsored one of the greatest traditions in Indianapolis (at least in my opinion), is as of now no longer going to sponsor the event due to a lack of funding resulting from the struggling economy. The event I am speaking of is the annual Labor Day fireworks celebration, Sky Concert.

Fireworks have been an integral part of my life since birth (I was, after all, born on the Fourth of July). To this day, my father claims that when I was a child, he had me believing the fireworks that always occurred on the Fourth of July were specifically in celebration of my birthday. While I can offer little insight into the truth or falsity of my father's claim (I can recall no memory of ever believing such a thing), there is no denying the fact that I am extremely fond of any and all displays of fireworks.

Even though it has been several years since I last attended Sky Concert, it has always been and will continue to remain one of my favorite fireworks shows. I only hope that the economy rebounds quickly and Sky Concert does not remain in the dark for long.

Outrun the Sun Race Against Melanoma.

I realize it has been quite a while since I last blogged. I was all set with pictures and stories to recount my vacation in North Carolina, when unexpectedly my world came crashing down around me. The day after I got back from vacation, I found out my now ex-boyfriend Brent wanted to break up with me. The man who told me in the beginning of our relationship that all he wanted was the opportunity to prove to me not all guys are the same and that given the chance he would never be like the guys of my past (many of whom hurt me deeply), gave up and checked out of our relationship just when I needed his love and support the most (which is another story for another day). Not only that, but he kept me hanging for almost a month while he "just didn't know what to do," and I did everything I could think of to show him how much I love him and believe in us as a couple.

Least to say, I have not been in much of a blogging mood.

But, there comes a point where you have to force yourself to get back in the saddle and move on with your life. Step by step. Bit by bit. One day at a time.

Part of my method of dealing with emotional heartache is to keep myself as busy as possible, which translates to working every single hour that I possibly can at both of my jobs. This time around, I am also including that to mean being open to and taking advantage of opportunities to which I would normally not give a great deal of thought.

Enter Outrun the Sun Race Against Melanoma.

One day I got a text message from my friend Mary, asking if I wanted to be a part of her team and participate in a charity walk/run to raise money for melanoma research. I have participated in similar events before, such as Walktoberfest and Race for the Cure, but not in recent years. It didn't take long for me to decide to join Mary's team. Not only will it give me the opportunity to spend quality time with a friend whom I only see rarely, it will allow me to get involved in a great cause. This year on Saturday, June 6th, our team will be doing the one-mile family walk, but I am hoping in the future to train and do the 5 mile run. If you would like to find out more information on the event or to make a donation, you can do so by clicking here. Any and all support is greatly appreciated!

In all of this, I have been greatly inspired by one of my favorite bloggers, Amber at Girl With The Red Hair (formerly from Amber Alert). Amber recently completed her first half-marathon, and since then has decided to participate in another race, this time for charity. In doing the Scotiabank half-marathon, she will be raising money for the Heart & Stroke Foundation. This is a cause close to Amber's heart, as heart disease runs in her family and both her grandmother and father have had to have surgery as a result of heart attacks. If you would like to give your support to Amber, you can do so by clicking here. At the very least, I highly recommend you check out her blog (both old and new). You won't be disappointed!

I want to say a big thank you to those of you who have not given up on me in my lengthy absence. Although I have not been commenting a great deal lately as well as not blogging, I have still been checking/reading each of your blogs daily. Hopefully, this post will be the beginning of the end of my prolonged silence.

Sleepless in Indiana.

Dear Insomnia,

I've had it with you. This has to stop. Things were bad enough when you would show up unannounced every once in awhile, but now that you have decided to rear your ugly head repeatedly, night after night? You are driving me crazy. As if waking me up in the middle of the night and not allowing me to fall back asleep wasn't bad enough, now you're also causing me to have trouble falling asleep in the first place. I don't know where you got the idea that I like feeling drowsy all day and barely being able to keep my eyes open at times, but you are sorely mistaken. The truth of the matter is, I value sleep greatly, and would much appreciate being able to sleep soundly so I can quit having to give myself pep talks in the morning just to get out of bed. That being said, I am sure you understand why I can no longer have you interrupting my slumber. Although I cannot say you will be missed, I do wish you luck in finding someone better suited for you.

All the best,

Sleepless in Indiana

Not a morning person (but not a night owl either).

If you asked, I would tell you that I am one hundred percent, completely and totally NOT a morning person. During the week when my alarm goes off at 6:00a.m. I find myself hitting snooze repeatedly, and by 6:30a.m. I am having to force myself to get out of bed. I would also tell you that I cannot remember the last time I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to start the day (okay, so I CAN remember - it was exactly eight months and ten days ago).

(That would be July 10, 2008 for those of you who are wondering.)

(I know, it's pathetic that I remember the exact date of the last time I actually felt like I got a decent night's sleep.)

(Don't judge me.)

After my alarm has gone off and I am hitting snooze, desperately trying to ignore the fact that if I do not get out of bed I am going to be late for work, I often think about the movie Bruce Almighty, when Jim Carrey's character Bruce is throwing a temper tantrum when he has to get out of bed in the morning. I often have to stifle the urge to start kicking and throwing just such a tantrum myself. (Seeing as how I sleep on my futon, without it being folded out so it is like a couch rather than like a bed, the reality of my throwing such a tantrum would most likely end with me falling on the floor.)

The funny thing is, I know I am more productive in the morning than I am at any other time of day, and most mornings I naturally wake up around 5:30a.m. On the occasions when I actually get out of bed rather than rolling over and falling back asleep, I feel much better than when I have allowed myself to hit snooze. Either way though, I am still generally tired throughout the entire day, and most nights I am ready to pass out around nine or ten o'clock (yet I usually don't go to bed until almost midnight). I find it nearly impossible to wake up in the morning, yet I also struggle to stay up late at night. So, if I'm neither a morning person nor a night owl, what does that make me?

I think it might be time for me to accept the fact that I am meant to be a morning person, and I need to start going to bed earlier.