BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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Please Pass Me a Tangerine (or is it a Clementine?)

tangerines-resized-600This challenge thing is pretty awesome. I’ve been issuing challenges to myself, and, oddly, not only have I accepted them, I’ve also been successful with them. Go figure.

Today it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to experience a shift in my mindset. I found myself reaching for a tangerine as a snack (or clementine… what’s the difference? anyone?) and I thought to myself that I was actually shifting my thought patterns.

The old me would have deemed a tangerine (or clementine) too much of a hassle to eat. After all, you have to peel it. The current me finds that line of thinking absurd. It’s not more difficult than opening a package of chips. Ok, well, maybe slightly more effort is involved, but really, it’s not much. Besides, the tangerine (or clementine) is so darn sweet and delicious.

Sweet. That’s my big issue. I’m pretty much a sugar junkie. I have to stay away from the sweet stuff, because when I start I have a hard time stopping. I’ve written about my Hot Tamale addiction before, but it’s really not an addiction… it’s more of an issue. If I have them, I eat them. If I don’t have them, I rarely go out of my way to get them. The truly addicted would move mountains to get a fix, but that’s not me. Know why? Because there are so many sugar-laden alternatives. It’s not the Hot Tamales that are the issue, it’s the sugar.

Yes, I know that tangerines (or clementines) are full of sweet, delicious, natural sugar. I’m okay with that. It’s the processed stuff that makes me nuts. I know this, and slowly I’m facing this particular demon.

No, it’s not crack. It’s not meth, or a fifth of vodka, or a needle full of heroin (do you even say that? a needle full?) but still, it’s an issue. I’m working on it, a little at a time. Every day it gets a little easier to make better choices. Every day I move a little closer to a full-on commitment to becoming my best me. Every day I make decisions that are becoming easier and easier. One challenge at a time, one week at a time, I’m working my way to a better, healthier, slimmer, fitter, more amazing me.


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Quitting Starbucks Cold Turkey – Again

eccf_lI’ve come to the sad realization that with just one week of work in the 2015 calendar year under my belt, I’ve visited Starbucks no fewer than 4 times (or was it 6?) and spent no less than $30. In fact, I”m sure it was quite a bit more, since I had my son with me twice, and that ups the bill considerably. Let’s see, 52 weeks in a year times $30 a week equals $1560.00 . That’s quite a bit to spend on coffee drinks and pastries.

Still, I have a good job, and if I really want to spend $1560.00 per year on something I can, but this?  At the end of the year what will I have to show for that investment? My first response is “nothing,” but that’s not true. I’ll have the effects of a year’s worth of sugary, fatty drinks and pastries settling into my ever aging body. I don’t need that. I don’t want that. So why is it so hard to resist?

Now this isn’t an anti-Starbucks post. I love Starbucks. Too much. That’s my point. If I could handle it I wouldn’t have to go cold-turkey, but I can’t. For me, Starbucks is like some giant lab experiment and I’m the rat. I cheerfully get in line and hand over my hard earned money in exchange for items that I know are not beneficial to my health. Then I consume those items happily, temporarily satisfied until I begin to crave the next fix. Sometimes that craving hits the very same day, and yes, sometimes I give in to it the very same day. Too much is too much.

Unlike the lab rat, I have a choice. I can voluntarily leave the experiment. I have options. But damn, I love my Starbucks. I crave it. I don’t care about the money! I don’t care about the health issues! I just want my frappucino!

Oops, sorry. That just kind of came out. I can handle this. I can come up with better alternatives. I’ve done it before and I can do it again. Starting today I will avoid Starbucks. That extra $30 per week might just come in handy, and I know I’ll feel better after the first couple of days. I may even stop shaking as I drive by, after a few weeks anyway.

Now I’m going to brew a pot of tea to take in my thermos and fix myself some toast for breakfast. There was life before Starbucks, and there is life after it.


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Leftover Words: Why Can’t I Hear My Body?

The following is my attempt at today’s daily prompt: Today, publish a post based on unused material from a previous piece –a paragraph you nixed, a link you didn’t include, a photo you decided not to use.

hand-to-ear-listening

Why Can’t I Hear My Body?

This eat the right thing and get enough sleep and make sure to move my body thing just hasn’t been working out recently. I could give you all the reasons, but honestly, it will just sound like a list of excuses, so I’ll spare you the details and just skip it.

This, of course, has been an ongoing battle for me. Sometimes things click and I do well, and other times I slip into my old bad habits and any progress toward improving my health habits quickly disappears. It’s frustrating, especially since it’s purely my choices that derail me.

I had a conversation several months ago with a yoga instructor about some of these struggles (as we were enjoying our cocktails and hors d’oevres). She has worked with all sorts of people over the years, with all sorts of body types and issues. She is also human, and has had her own struggles over the years. She has changed her diet more than once, and her advice to me was, “listen to your body.”

It sounded like good advice. Our bodies, after all, are incredible. They do so much for us, and they constantly make tiny adjustments without us even thinking about it. The whole keeping the heart beating and keeping the lungs breathing routine is awe-inspiring. The body is no dummy, so it makes sense to try to listen to it. I’m okay with this idea. In fact, I kind of like the thought.

The problem, however, is that my body and I don’t seem to speak the same language. I have no idea what it’s saying much of the time. I confuse fatigue with hunger, and I often allow myself to get to the point where I’m completely parched, or the opposite, my bladder feels as though it might explode. How come I don’t take care of these things earlier? I just don’t really seem to notice or understand the signals that my body gives. Either that, or my body gives me the wrong signals.

That was certainly the case during my pregnancy. I had no idea I was pregnant for several months. Why? Because to me it appeared that my cycle was functioning as normal. I saw no change in the monthly rhythm, even though I was pregnant. Pregnant-Belly-with-HeartHow am I supposed to listen to a body that doesn’t even give me a clue that it’s pregnant? Oh sure, I began to look a little thicker around the middle, but I’m a big girl, and putting on a few pounds with the arrival of cooler weather didn’t raise an eyebrow. In retrospect I should have noticed some movement, but I had never been pregnant before and put it down to some kind of digestive upset.

I used to mock those people who didn’t know they were pregnant. How could they be so stupid? Well, I’m not stupid, but it wasn’t until late December that I suspected I might be expecting, and got the confirmation. I was given a due date in August, but in a subsequent appointment the doctor shook his head and told me I was much further along than that. An ultrasound was ordered on the spot, and my due date was moved up to April. Junior arrived on April Fool’s Day weighing in at a healthy eight pounds. Perfect timing. I was six months pregnant before I even knew I was having a baby. And this is the body I’m supposed to listen to?

So yes, I try to pay attention, but it’s difficult when we don’t seem to speak the same language. I know there are certain things that will benefit my body regardless of the signs or signals I might miss. Good food and exercise will always be helpful, so I’ll keep on trying, even if I have no idea what my body is actually saying to me.