I am a Patriot.
I am a die-hard, pro-America, land of the free supporter. As I heard my sister say once, "Just wrap me in the flag" and that's the truth. There has been a lot of "discussion" (we shall call it judgement) surrounding the actions of some in the entertainment industry in recent weeks and it has sparked a lot of "reflection" for me. I've been somewhat surprised at my own self for the evolution of my feelings over the course of the week. I shall impart some of this now...
Lochte just pissed me off, plain and simple. His actions in Rio were NOT representative of a respected athlete. He was acting out and I think he should be punished. I say we strip the medal(s) and kick him off the team. It was just shameful, if you ask me. And that's what I have to say about that.
Then, well, there's Colin Kaepernick. (Bear with me here...)
At first, Kaepernick pissed me off. I'll be honest. My initial feelings were that I was extremely offended by his actions. Sitting down during the National Anthem? I thought it was the most disrespectful thing that an American could do. How dare anyone turn their back on this country? I was especially irritated when he explained his actions and made reference to the flag as a symbol of oppression. I thought that was really rich coming from him. Here he is, an entertainer, playing football on a multi-million dollar contract, choosing to sit down during the presentation of the flag and the National Anthem as a way to stand up to oppression. You want to fight? Don't just sit down and make that sound like a valiant effort to stand up for something. And what do you know about oppression anyway? I was livid. Then, I thought about it some more.
(Stay with me...) Why was I so offended?
I was reading on the book of faces this week and one post caught my eye (and led to some thought evolution): a friend posted about how much he hated the song and thought it was the worst part of sporting events (I am paraphrasing). Then another friend commented about how it was disrespectful to sit down during this time. The friend (original post) then replied "Disrespect or disregard?" Hmmm. What was REALLY making me mad? Why was I judging so?
You see, the presentation of the flag and the singing of the National Anthem means A LOT to me. It is symbolic and evokes emotions very deep inside. When I was in high school, the biggest honor was when I was asked to sing the National Anthem at a couple of sporting events. It was a way to honor the country and our freedom that had been fought for and won. I had friends whose parents went away to fight to defend that freedom. I remember how scary it all was and how I didn't always understand what was going on in the world. I thought that for those couple of moments during the National Anthem, the entire population thought the very same thing as I did, "We must pay tribute to those who gave their lives to keep us safe!"
As an adult, the flag and National Anthem sort of "came alive" for me in a different way. I was in a relationship with someone who was deployed to Iraq and was in the front lines of the invasion in 2003. My biggest nightmare was realized when I got a call that he'd been injured and was being med-evac'ed out of country and it didn't look good. His brothers in arms died. People were dying!!! It was scary and awful and I was helpless. When he made it back stateside and was in the hospital in Jacksonville, I would visit him and just think "Wow. So many of these guys and girls in these rooms sacrificed so that bombs don't fall in our back yard. The families of these people had to kiss them goodbye as they went to undisclosed places in the world to fight the bad guys and they (I) have no idea how this can turn out." I thought about 9/11 and how terror arrived on our doorstep. I thought about so much and guess what? I re-live ALL of those thoughts and feelings every single time I see the flag and/or hear the National Anthem. Every.single.time.
I think about all of those men and women that serve in our military and those that work as policemen, firefighters, EMS workers, nurses, doctors. This week it occurred to me, all of those folks have one thing in common: they don't go to work every day to fight to defend a piece of cloth or a song. They keep us safe, they help us when we are in need; they defend our RIGHTS. People have the right (by the very nature of rights) to stand up, sit down or even do the hokey-pokey if they want during the National Anthem. For me, I see it as a privilege to put my hand over my heart and look at the flag and hear the song. Does everyone see it that way? Nope. And that's ok. (See the evolution here?)
I have the right to bear arms. And I do.
I have the right to say what I think. And I do.
I have the right to post whatever my little heart desires. And I do.
I will stand up and defend these rights along with all the others!
By the same token, I applaud Kaepernick for defending his rights. I've seen many service personnel praise him for exercising those rights that they've fought to secure. So, good for you! Own it.
Now, for the real problem that I see...How are we going to end the oppression? If we all sit down during the National Anthem, will all the tension, evil, racial divide, killing of innocent people, and oppression disappear? I would think it grand if it were that simple, but it isn't. Here's the thing: Kaepernick made a gesture. That gesture brought to light the ideas/feelings/emotions that many hold with regard to what the flag represents. I totally get it. We're all talking about it. So now what do we do about it? Do we keep having divisive posts and opinions that lead to even more tension and hatred? I hope not because we, as a nation, are disintegrating at a rapid clip and we need to stop it. Now is the time to DO something. It begins with each of us...way down deep in our soul. To me, it seems the easiest answer, but it is the hardest step:
Stop the judgement. Stop perpetuating negativity. Stop being stubborn and closed-minded. Turn away from hate. Be thankful. Be a light for others.
~LG
Friday, September 2, 2016
Monday, August 8, 2016
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Recycled Advice
As I sit here tonight reflecting over the past few weeks, months, years, I'm finding out some hard truths. I'm tired. I am completely and utterly emotionally worn out. I looked at Nate tonight and asked, "What is it going to take for me to get it together and move forward?" His advice was simple, "Stop comparing your life to other people's lives. Your life is yours, not theirs. You just have to have that mindset and know it."
I'm always searching for good quotes. Secretly, I've always wanted to be the person of few words that could get the point across in some profound thought or sentence. Jimmy Buffett has a song called "Lone Palm", which has been a song that has really burrowed into my soul for whatever reason. There's a line in it that says, "I knew this girl made of memories and phrases, who lived her whole life in both chapters and stages. Danced til the dawn, wished all her worries away." I get it. I totally wholeheartedly get it. I am that girl.
In 1997, a very prolific "speech" was published in the Chicago Tribune by Mary Schmich, addressed to the graduating class of that year. Later, it was turned into a "song" of sorts. Many of you have heard it, likely ad nauseum. I have memorized every word and it has long since been burned into my memory. I used to have it printed and would take it to work and put it up so I could read it and really live by it. At any given point in my life, I have been able recall an applicable piece of the speech. The advice was not profound, really, but it has certainly played out over the last 19 years for me. I will post it below, but first...
Folks, I'm tapping out. Metaphorically, of course. I don't want a bunch of people all worried that I'm going to nose dive off the deep end. I'm just reeling it all back in. All the energy that I've thrown at people that do not want it; all of the time I've spent trying to convince anyone that would listen that I'm here and I care and I'll do anything. I've realized that they weren't listening and quite frankly, I'm empty. It isn't that I don't care or I'm turning my back to people in my life; I'm just no longer laying a field of emotions in front of ultimately toxic people, only to keep receiving the proverbial black eye. We are all trying to figure out this ride of life and I have a duty to put myself back together and live it. I cannot make people believe that I'm a genuine, good person.
I've recently taken inventory of folks in my life. I am ashamed at how I have taken my beloved husband for granted. He is steady and has a true heart. He makes me want to keep striving and he loves me for who I am. We have a love that is quiet, yet fierce and strong and I have spent way too long wrecked with worry that it will all vanish. Perhaps I have refused to believe that I was good enough to have that in my life.
As for my friends, I am calling to mind a line from the speech below that is clanging like a bell in my head: "Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours."
I've had too many "friends" that have been reckless with my heart. I no longer have the space or energy for the toxic folks. It is time to untangle myself from all the webs. So, here's the speech. I've actually printed myself another copy and it will hang on my wall to help me navigate the next chapter. Thanks for reading! :)
I'm always searching for good quotes. Secretly, I've always wanted to be the person of few words that could get the point across in some profound thought or sentence. Jimmy Buffett has a song called "Lone Palm", which has been a song that has really burrowed into my soul for whatever reason. There's a line in it that says, "I knew this girl made of memories and phrases, who lived her whole life in both chapters and stages. Danced til the dawn, wished all her worries away." I get it. I totally wholeheartedly get it. I am that girl.
In 1997, a very prolific "speech" was published in the Chicago Tribune by Mary Schmich, addressed to the graduating class of that year. Later, it was turned into a "song" of sorts. Many of you have heard it, likely ad nauseum. I have memorized every word and it has long since been burned into my memory. I used to have it printed and would take it to work and put it up so I could read it and really live by it. At any given point in my life, I have been able recall an applicable piece of the speech. The advice was not profound, really, but it has certainly played out over the last 19 years for me. I will post it below, but first...
Folks, I'm tapping out. Metaphorically, of course. I don't want a bunch of people all worried that I'm going to nose dive off the deep end. I'm just reeling it all back in. All the energy that I've thrown at people that do not want it; all of the time I've spent trying to convince anyone that would listen that I'm here and I care and I'll do anything. I've realized that they weren't listening and quite frankly, I'm empty. It isn't that I don't care or I'm turning my back to people in my life; I'm just no longer laying a field of emotions in front of ultimately toxic people, only to keep receiving the proverbial black eye. We are all trying to figure out this ride of life and I have a duty to put myself back together and live it. I cannot make people believe that I'm a genuine, good person.
I've recently taken inventory of folks in my life. I am ashamed at how I have taken my beloved husband for granted. He is steady and has a true heart. He makes me want to keep striving and he loves me for who I am. We have a love that is quiet, yet fierce and strong and I have spent way too long wrecked with worry that it will all vanish. Perhaps I have refused to believe that I was good enough to have that in my life.
As for my friends, I am calling to mind a line from the speech below that is clanging like a bell in my head: "Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours."
I've had too many "friends" that have been reckless with my heart. I no longer have the space or energy for the toxic folks. It is time to untangle myself from all the webs. So, here's the speech. I've actually printed myself another copy and it will hang on my wall to help me navigate the next chapter. Thanks for reading! :)
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you
only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of
sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no
basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice
now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind.
You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded.
But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in
a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous
you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that
worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never
crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle
Tuesday.
Do one thing every
day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless
with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with
yours.
Floss.
Don't
waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.
The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments
you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love
letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if
you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people
I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the
most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of
calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry,
maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll
divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding
anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or
berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use
it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of
it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you
have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions,
even if you don't follow them.
Do not read beauty
magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your
parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your
siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to
stick with you in the future.
Understand that
friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to
bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more
you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York
City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California
once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.
Accept certain
inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too,
will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young,
prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their
elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone
else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy
spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much
with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose
advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of
nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping
it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the
sunscreen.
-Mary Schmich
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Wait, wha?
I have a problem. A big one. I've failed. It went something like this...
I said to myself, "Self, it is totally ok to have a couple of beers. You worked hard, you ate right, just live a little." And so I lived. Then, the next day I said to myself, "Self, one drive thru meal will not un-do all that you've done." And so I went to Cook Out. I lived some more. Rinse, repeat. And that, friends, is how it all went wrong.
I'm here to tell you that I'm 100% or 0%. There really isn't an in-between for me right now. I'm very intense (duh!). The ENTIRE time I was going through the LC earlier this year, I was 100% committed. I was actually OVER committed because I didn't have a drop of alcohol, when we were allowed a small amount each day. I know myself. I can't "cheat" because I have no concept of the "in-between". I live and die by consequences. I feel that the only just life that one can live is one where you are held to the highest standard you set for yourself and you live through every single second of the consequences of your actions. Good AND bad.
I worked hard and I saw results. I defended my choices, when everyone said I was being too strict. I changed my situation and I felt absolutely great. Granted, my workout energy/stamina suffered a little, but, it wasn't anything that I couldn't correct. But in the back of my head, I kept hearing, "It's ok, you can't live your life that way all the time." And I gave in.
Over the last two months, I've made progressively worse choices and have ended up here. Rock bottom. You know how I know that it is rock bottom? I was diving in to one of the two packages of Oreos I bought this week at 0630 this morning when I noticed on the package it said "Natural Flavor with Other Natural Flavor" Wait, wha???...Nothing else has stopped me in my tracks quite like this. Not even the plane ride home last week where the gentleman beside me took up half of my seat and basically forced me to sit to one side for the entire flight. (So big that I couldn't put down my tray table because of his leg) I wasn't even phased by my ER trip 4 weeks ago. The fact that I have felt like absolute sludge-y crap for the last two months didn't stop my roll through the drive thru and the bags of chips and cookies and soda. And, we won't even talk about the beer....
But this...I started to evaluate the "Natural Flavor" of my Lemon Creme Oreos. I have NEVER come across an actual lemon that has tasted anything like the creme in that cookie. I have NEVER actually tasted anything that even resembles a cookie out in "nature". Was I supposed to feel better about my life because the word "Natural" occurs twice on the cookie package? Absurd. I stared at the words on the package. I felt sick to my stomach. And I cried.
I'd be lying if I said I knew where to go from here. I'm confused and disappointed and sad. I haven't had issue fitting in the smaller clothes, but, they don't look quite right. I feel awful. I have no energy, I'm moody and I'm craving junk all the time. My confidence is so low, it doesn't even register. I am emotional and disconnected.
I have to find my way again. My body is in revolt. I'm not afraid of being strict again. I'm afraid of staying stuck right where I am and feeling like this forever.
Stay tuned....
LG
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
My Battle with Food - Day 3
Y'all. This mess is hard. Why didn't I journal better during the Lurong challenge? And, why does it seem so much damn harder now than before? It was just a couple of months ago. Crikey!
I'm on day 3 of my "modified Lindsey/Lurong kickstarter plan". Yeah, it's not a real thing--except in my own mind. I mean, it is real. But you all don't know what it entails. Long and short - no added sugar, no dairy except my greek yogurt and no bread/crackers/etc. Of course there are other stipulations and barred foods, but, that's too much to type. So, now you know the gist. :)
I walk by the jellybeans every night. I mean, I went to bed EARLY last night so as not to be tempted. But, I have to keep walking; I promised myself I wouldn't stop. I don't know where the motivation comes from because believe me, I've never been the motivated one. I'm usually the laziest heifer in the field. These days, though, I'm on fire. I want to whip into shape and whip everyone else around me into shape, too. This, friends, could prove to be a problem.
Everyone's journey is their very own. I get it; you don't tell me what to do, I don't tell you what to do. But, let me give you some advice: you have to dig deep...I mean DEEP down and ask yourself what you are willing to accept and how much are you willing to do to get what you want. A few months ago, my answers were clear (nonverbally, that is)...I wasn't willing to do JACK to get there. But the very MOMENT that I put forth the effort and saw the first few pounds lost (by the feel of my clothes), I knew that this was it. And believe me, it is HARD. Sometimes I look at myself and go "hey, you've come a long way, you deserve a treat." But you know what? I don't deserve a treat every time I think I deserve a treat. Because I can tell you this much - my treats get quickly out of hand.
I want to wake up in the morning and go to work and eat what I want and come home and do what I want and not have to think about it. If any of you can figure out how I can make that happen and still be healthy and lively, please do share the plan.
For now, I continue on. I brought a bag of food in to work today that is the same size as my trash can in my office. I have so many "just in case" snacks and fruit and such in there, I could feed a small nation. I put it all together before bed last night and grabbed it and put it on ice as I walked out the door at 5:15am. In the rain. In a bad mood.
But, in the end, I'll get results. And that's what keeps me walking (and WOD'ing) on.
So, watch this really cool video and you'll hear exactly what I listen to EVERY morning, whether I'm on my way to the box or on my way to work.
The Ultimate Motivational Clip - Rise and Shine!
~LG
Life IS Good
I'm on day 3 of my "modified Lindsey/Lurong kickstarter plan". Yeah, it's not a real thing--except in my own mind. I mean, it is real. But you all don't know what it entails. Long and short - no added sugar, no dairy except my greek yogurt and no bread/crackers/etc. Of course there are other stipulations and barred foods, but, that's too much to type. So, now you know the gist. :)
I walk by the jellybeans every night. I mean, I went to bed EARLY last night so as not to be tempted. But, I have to keep walking; I promised myself I wouldn't stop. I don't know where the motivation comes from because believe me, I've never been the motivated one. I'm usually the laziest heifer in the field. These days, though, I'm on fire. I want to whip into shape and whip everyone else around me into shape, too. This, friends, could prove to be a problem.
Everyone's journey is their very own. I get it; you don't tell me what to do, I don't tell you what to do. But, let me give you some advice: you have to dig deep...I mean DEEP down and ask yourself what you are willing to accept and how much are you willing to do to get what you want. A few months ago, my answers were clear (nonverbally, that is)...I wasn't willing to do JACK to get there. But the very MOMENT that I put forth the effort and saw the first few pounds lost (by the feel of my clothes), I knew that this was it. And believe me, it is HARD. Sometimes I look at myself and go "hey, you've come a long way, you deserve a treat." But you know what? I don't deserve a treat every time I think I deserve a treat. Because I can tell you this much - my treats get quickly out of hand.
I want to wake up in the morning and go to work and eat what I want and come home and do what I want and not have to think about it. If any of you can figure out how I can make that happen and still be healthy and lively, please do share the plan.
For now, I continue on. I brought a bag of food in to work today that is the same size as my trash can in my office. I have so many "just in case" snacks and fruit and such in there, I could feed a small nation. I put it all together before bed last night and grabbed it and put it on ice as I walked out the door at 5:15am. In the rain. In a bad mood.
But, in the end, I'll get results. And that's what keeps me walking (and WOD'ing) on.
So, watch this really cool video and you'll hear exactly what I listen to EVERY morning, whether I'm on my way to the box or on my way to work.
The Ultimate Motivational Clip - Rise and Shine!
~LG
Life IS Good
Monday, May 2, 2016
It's All About the Food
I wasn't always a gal that struggled with her weight. When I was young, I had the metabolism that wouldn't stop. I ate anything (and everything) I wanted. I had chocolate ice cream tons of times a week; I had pizza ad nauseum...You get the idea.
Then one day, I went from a size 2 to a size 8. Then 10. Then 12. Then, *gasp*, I woke up one morning and had to buy a size 14. Now, let's be real, I realize it didn't happen overnight. My unhealthy relationship with food started when I was probably, well, 2. (as in, years old...)
When I was a tot, I would eat the fat off of country ham. Just the fat, left the lean. I would eat pats of butter. I ate the inside of bread (you know the ooey gooey warm delicious softness). I ate chocolate pudding, cakes, ice cream. SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR. Now, I need to qualify this post by saying that I do NOT blame my parents or other family members. I was a kid with just quirky habits. And I was skinny, so...there...
As I grew older, I stopped eating the fat off of the ham and stopped eating the butter. But, I did NOT stop with the bread and confections and ICE CREAM. I ate all the time. I was not athletic, but, I ate like I was training five hours a day for something. I never forgot to eat. I couldn't have developed a disorder if my life depended on it--well, in my mind, at least. But, I did develop a disorder of sorts. I became an emotional eater. I eat with any emotion. ANYTHING. You're sad? Let's have cake. You're excited? Let's have cake. You're mad? Let's have...well, you get the idea.
Something "unmagical" happened when I was about 22/23. That's a separate blog post in and of itself, but, after the tipping point, I began to gain weight. Like crazy! After my Mom died in 2005, I shot up 45 pounds. FORTY FIVE!
Well, it was 2006 and I found myself at the doctor and hearing him tell me that I needed a colonoscopy. Stat. I had all kinds of issues going on and we needed to figure it out. After that day, and the removal of some suspicious things, I freaked out. I like to say that the "prep" was what got things started on my weight loss, but, I don't know that for sure. Either way, I went from a 12 to a size 4. In a matter of a few months. I thought I'd reversed whatever it was that had caused me to gain so much weight.
WRONG.
Just a short time later, maybe a few months, a year or two, my weight shot back up. (It is hard to tell how quickly it happened.) Of course, I was still stuffing my face with everything under the sun. And drinking alcohol (beer mostly) like it was my job. Before you knew it, I was sailing past a size 10, right into a size 14. I had urgent gallbladder surgery in 2014 where they found a stone almost the size of my gallbladder (what?!). Gallstones are basically bile sludge and cholesterol that builds up. Yeah, my blood chemistry SUCKED. I was up to 175 pounds and eventually, I hit 180.
June, 2015, I started CrossFit. I was SURE that any of my issues would be quickly resolved the more I did that "intense" workout. Nope. Wrong. People kept telling me to clean up my eating and I kept saying "Nah. I'm good. I'm doing CrossFit - I need the calories. I'm gaining weight because muscle weighs more than fat. I'm not getting enough calories obviously because I'm gaining weight and I've sent my body into starvation mode." LIES. ALL LIES.
January, 2016. I had enough. Granted, I had small weight loss. I was down to about 165 to start the year. My box was participating in the Lurong Resolution Challenge. It was a 5 week, get your @$$ in gear nutrition and fitness program. The focus was more nutrition. So, I signed up to participate just KNOWING that I wasn't going to lose much by some dumb eating plan. Wow, was I wrong. And what's more, I won the competition (well, technically one of our coaches did better than me, but she was a coach and couldn't win :( ).
March, 2016. The competition has ended. I'm down to 150. I've lost inches from nearly everywhere. I received the "Athlete Spotlight" for my CrossFit box. When I learned this, I cried. A lot. I felt like I was a true athlete. This wasn't anything I'd ever been before, much less considered myself to be!
May, 2016. I'm down and holding steady at 145. I lost roughly 8% body fat. I had my measurements done before and after the challenge and the fella had to check the file 3 times to make sure it was the right person. :) I have about 3% more body fat to go. I want to get down another 8 pounds. I feel like I'm going off the rails, though. I just want to eat. And eat. And eat. And drink beer. You know what? I feel like crap, too. I felt so GOOD at the end of the challenge and here I am, right back to where I started, mentally. The difference is, I have a whole new wardrobe that I have to keep fitting into.
So, I'm doing it. I'm going back to a modified version of the challenge diet. I need to get rid of that sugar habit. AGAIN. I *might* have killed about 3 bags of jellybeans since Easter. I'm not proud. But, I'm an addict.
So, y'all watch this. I'm going to be healthy. I'm going to stay healthy. I don't want to feel like crap and I'm not going to feel like crap.
"Pounds in the kitchen, ounces in the gym."
"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." ~Michael Pollan
-LG
Life IS Good
Then one day, I went from a size 2 to a size 8. Then 10. Then 12. Then, *gasp*, I woke up one morning and had to buy a size 14. Now, let's be real, I realize it didn't happen overnight. My unhealthy relationship with food started when I was probably, well, 2. (as in, years old...)
When I was a tot, I would eat the fat off of country ham. Just the fat, left the lean. I would eat pats of butter. I ate the inside of bread (you know the ooey gooey warm delicious softness). I ate chocolate pudding, cakes, ice cream. SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR. Now, I need to qualify this post by saying that I do NOT blame my parents or other family members. I was a kid with just quirky habits. And I was skinny, so...there...
As I grew older, I stopped eating the fat off of the ham and stopped eating the butter. But, I did NOT stop with the bread and confections and ICE CREAM. I ate all the time. I was not athletic, but, I ate like I was training five hours a day for something. I never forgot to eat. I couldn't have developed a disorder if my life depended on it--well, in my mind, at least. But, I did develop a disorder of sorts. I became an emotional eater. I eat with any emotion. ANYTHING. You're sad? Let's have cake. You're excited? Let's have cake. You're mad? Let's have...well, you get the idea.
Something "unmagical" happened when I was about 22/23. That's a separate blog post in and of itself, but, after the tipping point, I began to gain weight. Like crazy! After my Mom died in 2005, I shot up 45 pounds. FORTY FIVE!
Well, it was 2006 and I found myself at the doctor and hearing him tell me that I needed a colonoscopy. Stat. I had all kinds of issues going on and we needed to figure it out. After that day, and the removal of some suspicious things, I freaked out. I like to say that the "prep" was what got things started on my weight loss, but, I don't know that for sure. Either way, I went from a 12 to a size 4. In a matter of a few months. I thought I'd reversed whatever it was that had caused me to gain so much weight.
WRONG.
Just a short time later, maybe a few months, a year or two, my weight shot back up. (It is hard to tell how quickly it happened.) Of course, I was still stuffing my face with everything under the sun. And drinking alcohol (beer mostly) like it was my job. Before you knew it, I was sailing past a size 10, right into a size 14. I had urgent gallbladder surgery in 2014 where they found a stone almost the size of my gallbladder (what?!). Gallstones are basically bile sludge and cholesterol that builds up. Yeah, my blood chemistry SUCKED. I was up to 175 pounds and eventually, I hit 180.
June, 2015, I started CrossFit. I was SURE that any of my issues would be quickly resolved the more I did that "intense" workout. Nope. Wrong. People kept telling me to clean up my eating and I kept saying "Nah. I'm good. I'm doing CrossFit - I need the calories. I'm gaining weight because muscle weighs more than fat. I'm not getting enough calories obviously because I'm gaining weight and I've sent my body into starvation mode." LIES. ALL LIES.
January, 2016. I had enough. Granted, I had small weight loss. I was down to about 165 to start the year. My box was participating in the Lurong Resolution Challenge. It was a 5 week, get your @$$ in gear nutrition and fitness program. The focus was more nutrition. So, I signed up to participate just KNOWING that I wasn't going to lose much by some dumb eating plan. Wow, was I wrong. And what's more, I won the competition (well, technically one of our coaches did better than me, but she was a coach and couldn't win :( ).
March, 2016. The competition has ended. I'm down to 150. I've lost inches from nearly everywhere. I received the "Athlete Spotlight" for my CrossFit box. When I learned this, I cried. A lot. I felt like I was a true athlete. This wasn't anything I'd ever been before, much less considered myself to be!
May, 2016. I'm down and holding steady at 145. I lost roughly 8% body fat. I had my measurements done before and after the challenge and the fella had to check the file 3 times to make sure it was the right person. :) I have about 3% more body fat to go. I want to get down another 8 pounds. I feel like I'm going off the rails, though. I just want to eat. And eat. And eat. And drink beer. You know what? I feel like crap, too. I felt so GOOD at the end of the challenge and here I am, right back to where I started, mentally. The difference is, I have a whole new wardrobe that I have to keep fitting into.
So, I'm doing it. I'm going back to a modified version of the challenge diet. I need to get rid of that sugar habit. AGAIN. I *might* have killed about 3 bags of jellybeans since Easter. I'm not proud. But, I'm an addict.
So, y'all watch this. I'm going to be healthy. I'm going to stay healthy. I don't want to feel like crap and I'm not going to feel like crap.
"Pounds in the kitchen, ounces in the gym."
"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." ~Michael Pollan
-LG
Life IS Good
Sunday, March 6, 2016
And So It Begins Again...
As I sit here tonight, I've only had this feeling twice in my life. I'm so incredibly nervous, excited and, well, unsteady.
In August of 1992, my Dad drove me to Harnett Central High School for my very first day. I remember riding through town as he talked, all the while concentrating on breathing as I was so unbelievably nervous, I just knew I was going to hurl. I remember how bright that morning was; how blue the sky was and just how suddenly "different" everything seemed. As we crossed the Cape Fear, my Daddy told me a story. He said that the sky reminded him of waking up in basic training for the Air Force, thousands of miles from home where he was nervous and homesick like he'd never experienced. He recounted the bus to the Base in Colorado and went on to recall how they would play "Nothing Could Be Finer..." in the morning over the P.A. system. He said he would stand outside and look at the sky and just long to be back in NC. Then he started talking about the pancakes. He told me that they were like lead just sitting in his stomach after morning mess hall. I suddenly remembered how heavy my own breakfast felt (pancakes, no less) in my stomach as we proceeded on to my first day in the "big leagues". I'd spent my primary/elementary and middle school years with pretty much the same group of people. We knew each other; we even knew the parents, the siblings, etc etc. But we were all heading to high school. Everything was changing. There were three different middle schools of people all coming together to be the Freshman class. New everything. Big, crazy school and tons of people in one building that wasn't my same safe peer group.
In August of 1996, my Daddy drove me to Raleigh to start NCSU. I was so nervous and homesick that after my Dad helped me move into the dorm, I actually got someone to come and get me from Raleigh and drive me to my brother's house in Bunnlevel. My parents had gone to the beach and I was hell-bent and determined that I wasn't ready for college, to make new friends and live that far away from home. I couldn't leave my safe peer group. I'd survived high school and my friends group had grown quite a bit. But it was still small. And NCSU was overwhelming beyond measure. My parents came home from the beach and my poor Dad had to drive me (again) back to Raleigh and told me I had to stay this time. He, again, told me the story of the pancakes in Basic training. I vowed to never eat the pancakes in the dining hall at NCSU. And, I can safely say I never did. Ha!
I made it through both life-altering experiences. I came out stronger, forever changed. I had new friends, I was smarter and I was grown up. I took on jobs and grew my career. I've made new friends and grown an incredible network of colleagues. Now, here I am, just wondering how this next adventure is going to go. I've worked for small and smaller companies and tomorrow, I will become part of a workforce of almost 15,000. Am I crazy? Do they have the right girl? (Did they call the wrong candidate?) Yes, I've actually considered the latter.
But my experience has brought me to this point. I'm going to set my alarm early, leave early to make it through the usual insane traffic and walk in with my head held high. My confidence and my knowledge landed me this job. If there was ever any time in my career that I'd made it to the "big leagues", this is it. My new boss wrote me a few days ago (for the third time since accepting the offer) to let me know how excited the team had been that I am joining them tomorrow. She actually used the phrase "counting down the days"! Is this for real?
One thing you can count on, though....I am NOT having pancakes for breakfast. ;)
<3 LG
Life IS Good
In August of 1992, my Dad drove me to Harnett Central High School for my very first day. I remember riding through town as he talked, all the while concentrating on breathing as I was so unbelievably nervous, I just knew I was going to hurl. I remember how bright that morning was; how blue the sky was and just how suddenly "different" everything seemed. As we crossed the Cape Fear, my Daddy told me a story. He said that the sky reminded him of waking up in basic training for the Air Force, thousands of miles from home where he was nervous and homesick like he'd never experienced. He recounted the bus to the Base in Colorado and went on to recall how they would play "Nothing Could Be Finer..." in the morning over the P.A. system. He said he would stand outside and look at the sky and just long to be back in NC. Then he started talking about the pancakes. He told me that they were like lead just sitting in his stomach after morning mess hall. I suddenly remembered how heavy my own breakfast felt (pancakes, no less) in my stomach as we proceeded on to my first day in the "big leagues". I'd spent my primary/elementary and middle school years with pretty much the same group of people. We knew each other; we even knew the parents, the siblings, etc etc. But we were all heading to high school. Everything was changing. There were three different middle schools of people all coming together to be the Freshman class. New everything. Big, crazy school and tons of people in one building that wasn't my same safe peer group.
In August of 1996, my Daddy drove me to Raleigh to start NCSU. I was so nervous and homesick that after my Dad helped me move into the dorm, I actually got someone to come and get me from Raleigh and drive me to my brother's house in Bunnlevel. My parents had gone to the beach and I was hell-bent and determined that I wasn't ready for college, to make new friends and live that far away from home. I couldn't leave my safe peer group. I'd survived high school and my friends group had grown quite a bit. But it was still small. And NCSU was overwhelming beyond measure. My parents came home from the beach and my poor Dad had to drive me (again) back to Raleigh and told me I had to stay this time. He, again, told me the story of the pancakes in Basic training. I vowed to never eat the pancakes in the dining hall at NCSU. And, I can safely say I never did. Ha!
I made it through both life-altering experiences. I came out stronger, forever changed. I had new friends, I was smarter and I was grown up. I took on jobs and grew my career. I've made new friends and grown an incredible network of colleagues. Now, here I am, just wondering how this next adventure is going to go. I've worked for small and smaller companies and tomorrow, I will become part of a workforce of almost 15,000. Am I crazy? Do they have the right girl? (Did they call the wrong candidate?) Yes, I've actually considered the latter.
But my experience has brought me to this point. I'm going to set my alarm early, leave early to make it through the usual insane traffic and walk in with my head held high. My confidence and my knowledge landed me this job. If there was ever any time in my career that I'd made it to the "big leagues", this is it. My new boss wrote me a few days ago (for the third time since accepting the offer) to let me know how excited the team had been that I am joining them tomorrow. She actually used the phrase "counting down the days"! Is this for real?
One thing you can count on, though....I am NOT having pancakes for breakfast. ;)
<3 LG
Life IS Good
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