Archives for the month of: September, 2012

I hate you Trainer Paul. At least, that’s what I was thinking at the end of my session last night. I wanted to hurl the $#*&!@! heavy weight (three pounds) I’d been waving in front of me in figure eights for hours (thirty seconds).

Three pounds? What? That’s nothing.

Yep. After not working out for three months I’m basically starting over. Sure, the figure eights were at the end of the session, having done push presses and L raises and lateral lifts etc., but these were just 30 seconds of figure eights. I had to go down from an eight pound weight to a five pound weight to a three pounder.

I’ve never used a three pound weight. When he handed it to me I just laughed. And struggled to keep it up. I gritted my teeth and breathed hard. When he said “ten seconds” I tried harder.

At the end of the session I was wiped out. Sweaty. Surprised at the amount of strength I’ve lost.

But not defeated or depressed. Instead, I’m determined. I’ve had a glimpse at what I can do when I work hard and am in control. I liked what I saw. Confident. Healthy. Fit.

At the end of the session Trainer Paul put the puny weights away for me and smiled, “Welcome back.”


There are lots of weight loss inspiration stories in the media. Valerie Bertinelli. The Biggest Loser. Kirstie Alley. Jennifer Hudson. Jack Black. Kirstie Alley. Okay, that last one was mean. But was it?

NPR recently posted some pictures about a woman who lost 160 pounds and her dressing room photos that show the journey. What I didn’t see were the up and down photos–just the constantly shrinking woman. And those photos are great inspiration for “this is what you can do”. Yes, I too, can lose 160 pounds. But in two years? Six months? Not me.

It’s been three years, three months since I started this go-round with getting healthy. Year one was a lot of weight lost. Year two was the maintenance year. Year three was 25 pounds lost, going to a gym, getting a trainer, and then sliding back to where I was at the beginning of the year.

Now I’m in year four, and I’m working on the mental side of it.

It was depressing to see just how fast the bad habits and lack of self-control came back. One week of vacation and poof…I was on the downward spiraling slide of laziness and gluttony.

If I’d taken dressing room pictures last weekend you wouldn’t see a smile or a proudly tilted chin. You’d see annoyance, frustration and the beginning tinges of depression. No more size 14. No more clothes fitting well. Hello size 16 and shlumpy lumpy fit.

I started to slide into depression. I fed it. It grew. And I finally snapped out of it. Ham croissanwiches from Burger King with my morning commute weren’t going to make me feel better (in fact, they made me slightly ill.)

So I’m back to tracking, measuring and weighing. Back to the gym–that was hard. Back to Weight Watchers–weighing in and seeing the giant weight gain since July was harder.

17.8 pounds.


I’m owning those 17.8 pounds. If I don’t I won’t remember it the next time I slack off with tracking, measuring, and working out. Kirstie Alley understands what I’m talking about.