It’s officially Spring in the mountains. We kind of whisper that at first. There’s always the chance of a snow storm. My birthday is the first week of May and I have recent memories of retrieving snowboots from the back of my closet after my birthday a few times in the last few years.
But there are flowers everywhere. The air is blue. The hills are green with new pine growth bright green on the tips of every pine and my eyes are puffy with allergies and my nose is running with the pollen. SPRINGTIME.
Spring is also prime get in shape time around here. We can’t really do January 1st as you know, it’s cold and we need are carbs to keep warm. But now —here we go!
I’m seeing all sorts of neighbors I haven’t seen since, well September (when it started to get cold). People are out walking at night. Riding their bikes. My kids are probably days away from jumping in ice cold watering holes.
Me? I’m dieting. I’m hiking and walking. I’m middle aged and it occurred to me the other day that to be really healthy I need to lose the equivalent of my 8 year old daughter in weight. I look at her. I look at me. I look at her. I look at me. Somewhere in me, there is her. And I need to lose the equivalent of her.
I wish I could ride a bike but I’m afraid of it. I’ll be the person who crashes into the logging truck. I’ll be the person the drunk driver takes out. I’ll be the person who other people make fun of from the back as they pass me in their car and run me off the road as I’m hunched over on my bike. In the world of dieting, you have to be thinner before you can exercise. I know that makes no sense but it’s true.
I’ve lost the equivalent of my daughter’s arm.
I am dreaming about bread. Challah bread and a really good rye. Like my fantasies now just involve Jewish delis.
Vodka, btw has the lowest GCI.
It’s Day 6 of the Gunnar Challenge.
This might be the longest I’ve lasted on a diet/exercise plan without making fun of it, cheating on it, giving up, or just convincing myself that this is too mainstream for me to participate in.
I am doing okay for me. I am not doing perfect. I thought about exercising all day yesterday. I thought about exercising so much I swear I broke out into a sweat while making dinner. I have promised to exercise every day, but I knew it would be a promise I couldn’t keep. I started looking around at the house thinking of things that might be able to count for exercise. If I squat while picking up stuff off the floor? Sweeping the shedding dog’s hair up?
The cat brought a baby bluejay into the house and I had to find a box and make a makeshift nest and bring it food and water and worry about the cat jumping in the box and killing it afterall. I chased the cat with a broom. How many calories were burned? I went up and down the stairs in the house at least 20 times. Calories burned? I start thinking about whether I can ‘deserve’ something if I haven’t expended energy.
At first I thought this whole online food diary was the answer to my sloth. If I had to examine in detail every last bit of physical effort I put into the day, what would happen? How much energy do I expend? If you stared at yourself naked in a full length mirror in the bathroom trying to find a difference from a week ago how much energy did that take?
I try to cheer myself on I have 56 more days of this challenge thing. I try and tell myself things like “remember when your roll of fat was so big you couldn’t see below it? Well now you can see below it. Isn’t that nice? It’s still a big role of fat. I think the problem with me and my fatness is really I have no imagination to see myself any other way. I don’t remember how I looked when I lived in Asia. I don’t remember what I looked like before I got fat, happy , and content. And other than that impending doom of gestational diabetes coming back in a pun intended big way, I can’t think of a good reason not to be fat. It cuts down on the come hither stares. A 40-something fluffy girl has the amazing freedom of being ignored. How many calories are burned by entering things into my online food diary? Do online food diaries lead to OCD?
I think about how many calories I burn doing all sorts of things. How many were burned washing dishes? How many were burned arguing with my kids to pick up their clothes off the bathroom floor? How many were burned having sex? Does the food and exercise diary have specifics for that? Like can I plug ‘sex’ into the online food diary and have it come up with options of which positions optimize for conscious calorie burners like myself?
I weigh in for the first time in a few hours. Wish me luck. And I’m hoarding calories to ration out a vodka gimlet a night.