I just turned 35 and am as pleased as punch that although still scales away from my ideal weight and body tone, I am on the road there, and the road is showing me results! Finally. About 2 months before my birthday I started an exercise program. I figured I could at least try to look better on my birthday than I did at that very moment. That was my goal, as evasive as it sounds, and for some reason the right combination of motivation, inspiration, dedication and desperation hit me, and I have actually kept it up this time. I refused to meet that birthday whining and complaining like a victim about Prednisone weight. Or Fibromyalgia weight. Any weight, for that matter. But the results were so slow coming! After about a month I still couldn't fit into my fat pants. Yes my upper arms were thinner, face resuming its normal contours sin chipmunk cheeks and the top of my belly smaller than the bottom, finally. But I had developed this mid-region weight that was glued and sealed to my rump and very round hips, and not in a sexy baby got back way either. I already eat very healthy, had cut out fast-food and dining-out all together (unless it's a special occasion or someone else's dime), switched to the salad plate instead of the dinner plate for portion control and when food would come to mind I quickly forced myself to start a project, lengthily and consuming, if not at all interesting, like reorganizing my very disorganized file cabinet and watching Chelsea Lately at the same time.
I was very anxious to know if this was working. During this time of s-l-o-w coming results I asked my husband if I was smaller now than I was on our last vacation in 2009, when I was at the height of my Lyrica explosion. He hemmed and hawed and stammered and sputtered something to the effect that this was "different" because exercise was shaping my body in a better way. He started getting all into the science of building lean muscle while dropping fat, increasing my metabolism, that kind of junior-high health class junk. So the answer was no. But instead of throwing a my-husband-just-called-me-fat tantrum I came into the office and looked at the pictures on the computer from that trip 2 summers ago. And as heavy as I thought I was then, Lyrica does not hold a candle to Prednisone in the weight gain department! After all that exercise and discipline, despite the fact that I had indeed lost pounds, and puffiness, I was still thinner in 2009 than I was at that moment. Oh it was depressing, puzzling and annoying, if extremely motivating!
So I kept going, up at 7 three to four mornings a week, letting Yorkie & Porkie lead the iditarod race in a big circle back to home. The amount of running steps getting bigger and swallowing up the walking steps. Yoga warming my muscles to stretch and release toxins as I loosen them up, new positions and poses becoming available to me as I gain endurance, strength and flexibility. I was so sore, had to up my pain meds, soothe my piercing muscles with self-massage as they adapted to the building demand I was requiring of them. And I gotta admit it, this was really very hard. But...those fat pants I could not even fit in after a month of dedicated action? They are now too big and in the donation pile. I am firmer and in a lot less pain. I had to get a new bathing suite, the one from 2009 now too big on the bottom. The longer I keep at it the quicker the fat melts away. So have I achieved my ultimate goal, a single digit dress size, erased all my extra chins? No. But I look a hell of a lot better than I did 2 months ago, and that is good enough to keep me going!
Thanks for joining,
Leah
I was very anxious to know if this was working. During this time of s-l-o-w coming results I asked my husband if I was smaller now than I was on our last vacation in 2009, when I was at the height of my Lyrica explosion. He hemmed and hawed and stammered and sputtered something to the effect that this was "different" because exercise was shaping my body in a better way. He started getting all into the science of building lean muscle while dropping fat, increasing my metabolism, that kind of junior-high health class junk. So the answer was no. But instead of throwing a my-husband-just-called-me-fat tantrum I came into the office and looked at the pictures on the computer from that trip 2 summers ago. And as heavy as I thought I was then, Lyrica does not hold a candle to Prednisone in the weight gain department! After all that exercise and discipline, despite the fact that I had indeed lost pounds, and puffiness, I was still thinner in 2009 than I was at that moment. Oh it was depressing, puzzling and annoying, if extremely motivating!
So I kept going, up at 7 three to four mornings a week, letting Yorkie & Porkie lead the iditarod race in a big circle back to home. The amount of running steps getting bigger and swallowing up the walking steps. Yoga warming my muscles to stretch and release toxins as I loosen them up, new positions and poses becoming available to me as I gain endurance, strength and flexibility. I was so sore, had to up my pain meds, soothe my piercing muscles with self-massage as they adapted to the building demand I was requiring of them. And I gotta admit it, this was really very hard. But...those fat pants I could not even fit in after a month of dedicated action? They are now too big and in the donation pile. I am firmer and in a lot less pain. I had to get a new bathing suite, the one from 2009 now too big on the bottom. The longer I keep at it the quicker the fat melts away. So have I achieved my ultimate goal, a single digit dress size, erased all my extra chins? No. But I look a hell of a lot better than I did 2 months ago, and that is good enough to keep me going!
Thanks for joining,
Leah
