I will warn you that this post might be a little all over the place. I realized last night as I was laying in bed that I hadn't written a little check in blog after my last weigh in, so I'll be doing that. But, there's also a little something I need to vent about. Let's just hope I can refrain from sounding like a complete bitch while I do.
total lost in 9 weeks: 26 lbs.
fat % lost: 14% and as long as it keeps dropping, I am a happy girl!
lean muscle gain: no change in 2 weeks
It's starting to show. All of my hard work is paying off and other people are noticing. I had one of the trainers at the gym stop me to tell me I was looking really good and that she could tell I was dropping weight! Yay! Even people at the gym I rarely talk to have made comments about it. Ah... you have to love the little non-scale victories wherever they may show up. Besides the actual weight loss number, one number I hadn't given much thought to was BMI. It's just not something I've cared about. That stupid number is what classified me as 'morbidly obese' at one time. At my heaviest, my BMI was 59. I think that's why I ignored it... just another label and way to put myself down. When I re-discovered my mojo 9 weeks ago, my BMI was 43. Technically, I was still classified at that point as morbidly obese. But now, my BMI is 39. This makes me just obese. Sure, I still hate that label, but you know what? It's a heck of a lot better than where I was before and really puts me just 9 points away from being just overweight. I'm ok with that. I know that getting to that point means losing another 50 lbs. It means finally getting under that dreaded 200 lb. mark once and for all. And it means that i'm doing a darn good job fighting for myself.
Speaking of getting under the 200 lb. mark.... I set a goal. It's realistic and doable and I am not messing around anymore being mediocre. That being said, I am going to bust my ass over the next 4 months to get under 200. It's not that far off. The bonus is summer is coming and for a girl who loves fresh produce and fruit straight from the farmers markets and farm stands, summer is the time to drop weight. My birthday is the first weekend in September. Normally, the family would make our annual pilgrimage to mecca aka going to the gorge to see the dave matthews band. This year, the band isn't touring. Instead they've decided to hold 4 multi-day, multi-artist concerts... and while this does appeal to me in a few ways, the consensus of the family is that $200 to see artists that we like, but don't love and DMB once or twice is just not that appealing. Especially when you consider dealing with the douchenozzle frat boys and skanky girls there because it's the cool thing to do and not because the music is good. So here's the tentative plan. Me and my sister are going to get in the car with tents, energy drinks, cd's and maybe a map and drive. I'm excited already! Is it september yet?
And now for a vent by yours truly.
So there I was, Easter morning, teaching one of the hardest and most kick ass cycling classes to date. People were pouring sweat, rolling their eyes at me with every resistance change and working hard. With five minutes left in class, an older woman (in her late 50's) came in. She was wearing normal street clothes (which is pretty odd for coming into a cycling class) and got on the bike wearing no shoes. Umm. WTF. Class ends, we stretch, people say thanks and goodbyes and this women starts to engage me in conversation. I'm kinda trying to rush out because I have 2 soccer games to get to, but I listen to her vent about the yoga instructor not showing up. That sucks, but things happen and it was Easter so probably not the easiest day for the gym to find a sub. I give her some ideas on how to approach the appropriate people regarding her frustration. She then says, 'so what's your deal? why are you an instructor?' I politely tell her that I've been taking cycle for 4 years, it's helped me lose a lot of weight and I like motivating and pushing others to better themselves. She asks me how much weight I've dropped and what I eat. I give her the quick rundown of how I've lost about 130 lbs. and that I dropped the majority of it on weight watchers, but have now completely changed how I eat (5-6 small meals a day, extra protein, etc...) to which she replies, 'well, i'm looking at you and i see a lot of inflammation and edema. i'd like to give you some nutritional advise and tweak your food intake.' So here's where I want to fly off the handle. I want to yell at her to shut the f up because #1 it's really not her business #2 I don't appreciate being sold nutritional advise while I'm working at a gym #3 what I'm doing is obviously working so why would i 'tweak' it just because some overweight (yes, i said it... she was also overweight (i'd say about 185-195 lbs)) 'nutritional expert' tells me to? I told her I was in a hurry to get to soccer and gave her my junk email address to send me her information. Then I left the gym fuming! I'm not trying to bash nutritionists. I'm not trying to say that I know everything about losing weight or diet or exercise. I guess my frustration is in not understanding why a complete stranger would try to sell me on changing my diet when I clearly stated that I'd lost a LOT of weight on my own. I've had a few friends make suggestions about switching diets or making exceptions to what I'm eating. Even then, I sometimes get frustrated because sure, I've struggled with plateau's and lack of motivation and with my own self doubt, but when I find a plan that's doable, I do it. Weight watchers did wonderful things for me for a long time, but right now, that's not what I'm doing. It doesn't make it any less of a plan, but what it does do is remind me that diets and nutrition plans are just that... plans. If you stick to the plan, you'll get the results. If you don't, you don't. Simple. I vented my frustration about this woman to my friend whose only response was, 'I'm surprised you didn't tell her to shut the f up.' Part of me wishes I had, but part of me is glad I didn't risk my job as a cycle instructor to put some know-it-all woman in her place. Vent over.