VKB

Today, the focus of my post is not weight loss.  While it is a factor, it is not main issue.  My main issue is my husband, our relationship, and my feelings on what is going on in our relationship. 

 My huband and I have been together for 11 years now (we have been married for 3.5 of those years).  We are very much in love and we are both very happy in our relationship.  We both come from wonderful supportive families, and until recently, I have had every reason to believe that our life plan was a shared plan.  We both wanted to date for a while, once we got engaged, we both wanted a short engagement, we both wanted to be married for a little bit before starting a family, and we both said that eventually we would have children and we both had hoped to have a larger family.

Year one of our marriage was wonderful, we traveled, we built home, things were great.  Year two we still had some projects to complete on the house so we work on those items.  Year three comes around, I turned 29 and I started to get the itch to start a family.  My husband said that that is something we should do soon, but we had a few things to do first. 

The first thing we both agreed to do was for me to quit my very demanding and high travel job and start my own company so I can work out of the home and have the option to continue to work at home and have me be a stay at home mom.  So, I quit my very high profile, high stress, high travel job and started own company doing marketing consulting out of my home.  It took me a while to build up the clients and get the work, but I have managed (even in tough times econoically) to find a way to stay at home and make more money then I did at my old job. (That was offical back in April 2008.)

So, with that road block behind us, I approached my husband about starting a family again and he said soon.  I need to be careful here because he did not call me fat or anything, but he did talk to me about my weight and my desire to lose weight and he asked me to make an honest attempt of liking my body again before we started a family because I was going to much harder to lose the weight after having a baby, and I agreed.  Hence buddyslim, my weight loss journey and my kick to be healthy.  We decided to bench the conversation until July 4th.

So July 4th comes and we talk about my progress and he tells me that we will try soon, but before we start trying he would like to see a few doctors and get his personal life in order.  He asks me to set up a doctor appointment, a dentist appointment,  and a dematologist appointment.  Done, Done, and Done.  I set up the appointments and he says he needs to have the appointments before we try. 

Doctor appointment does not go great.  His cholestrol numbers are for crap and doctors give him 12 weeks to shape up.  Dentist appointment goes without a hitch.  Dematolist appoint was weeks away, but is on the books. 

So in September, I ask him again if we can try to start a family, he says that he would like to get through his follow up doctor appointment first.  So in October, I ask him again (after through doc appointment and cholestrol numbers are back in order) and he says that October is not good, because he is trying to study for big certification test in late October.  So its November, and I again ask him if he would like to try to start a family in November.  He tells me that his dermatologist appointment did not go well and that hey need to remove some moles, he is really nervous about it and that November is probably not a good time to start a family.

I am going to be 31 in 4 months and I so frustrated.  He is not saying no, but he keeps saying not yet.   I am trying to understand, but at the same time I feel like this is just another excuse to not start a family… yet.  I am getting to this point where I am suppressing my anger and holding onto resentment towards my husband for not allowing me to have the family of my dreams. It is just starting to feel like excuse after excuse and although I really want to start a family, I always give to my husbands requests.  I have been postponed for a year and half now.  I have jumped through every hoop, just to find another hoop waiting to be cleared.  If my husband were to say to me, I just don’t want children now, I would hate it but I would understand.  Instead I am living with all this false hope…

It just seems like one goals always replaces another goal, completely unrealted to children and I just continue to comply.  I feel like my feelings are continually being dimissed, almost with my approval, which makes me even more mad, because my dreams aren’t being fulfilled.  There are obvious communication disconnents, but if he won’t be honest with me, we will never get to the bottom of the issue.  And maybe he doesn’t even think he is being dishonest, maybe these goals and roadblocks are real issues for him…  I just don’t know what to do.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder, is it just me?  Weight loss (this crazy journey we are all on) has its ups and has it lows.   And as I track my progress (heading into month 4) I am starting to see some patterns.  Workout, eat right, slowly you start to see results.  They are little sometimes.  Sometimes your arms look a little more tone, sometimes you legs look a little slimmer, sometimes (if stare hard enough) you think you can see muscles starting to form on your abs.  Put you just hit this point, the weight loss slows down, your measuresments don’t really flucuate, but you just feel softer and less tone.  You reside in this place for a week or two and then the cycle repeats itself.  Not sure why, but I feel like despite keeping a good diet and a great workout plan, I have had this cycle happen about three times in four months.    Right now I am in the soft zone.

 While this is clearly not correct it just seems like you build muscle on the top and every few weeks some residual fat creeps its way back on top of the muscle.  In the long run we you are slimmer and trimmer, but you just have waves of soft days.

 Am I crazy?  Does that make sense to anyone?

I think we all hit a point where the weight loss just slows down.  You eat right, you workout the same if not harder, the results just aren’t there like they used to me.  This is the short story of my past two - three weeks, so I decided to call in for reinforcements… I hired a trainer. 

She is 20 something, a complete knock out, toned beyond my wildest dreams, and truely a sweetheart.  She has that mix where you really want to hate her, but you can’t because she is so nice. (You still from time to time however think unkind thoughts) And let me tell you, miss thang can run me under the table.  I have been sore for a week, tired, and generally grumpy about my weight loss slow down, which despite the trainer, has not gotten back on track.

Workout today (still no forward movement on the weight), shower, go to work, and stop into old navy for a pair of jeans.  (They are having a $20 sale, which is a purchase I will justify when I am “between” sizes. And just when I am down and out, just when I am sore, just when I am tired, and just when I am so insanely jealous of my trainer, the unthinkable happens.    

I go into the fitting room and have to ask the sales clerk to bring me (drumroll…) a size six.  WHAT?!   REALLY?!  Sore? what soreness.  Tired? I can move mountains.  All those bad things I thought about that trainer through gritted teeth? (With a tremendous amount of guilt — being catholic really has it burdens) I take it all back.

So would anyone like a crow sandwhich for dinner today?

Ok, I really do have a love relationship with coffee that is difficult to put into words.  However a few months ago, my coffee maker broke and I made the decision, I would quit cold turkey.  It was hard, there were days when I thought I would kill people.

That is until today.  Yesterday, my in-laws bought me an early anniversary gift … this coffee maker that is super fancy and might be able to be programmed to laundry.  Anyway, I was excited so I opened the box up and set up the machine.  Read the booklet and decided that I would test out timer function.  So last night I loaded the maker up with water and the beans and set the timer to brew the coffee at 6:00AM.

 So 6AM arrives and I wake to the wonderful aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen.  Workout for for 30 minutes, have a bowl of cereal and some fruit, and of course a cup of coffee.  Refill the mug and go the bathroom to shower and get ready for work.  As I primp I sip away on the brew.  Ready to leave the house at 7:30 for an 8:00 meeting and decided to fill up a travel mug for the road.   After the meeting, get home at 9:30am and decide to have one more mug before washing the pot.  

Ok, so I drank a pot of coffee today in 3.5 hours.  My productivtiy spiked through the roof and I am now crashing from the high.  Gosh the coffee was so good… I think I am hooked again. 

Ok, so working out, watching what I eat, and I am seeing some changes in my body.  Pants fit different, move a size or two, and generally feeling pretty good about things.   I weighed in at the doctors office about 4 months ago at 167 lbs.  I worked on my weight for about a month and then I bought a scale for my house and have been using that scale for the past three months as my benchmark.  Some weeks the numbers would move, other weeks I felt like the numbers were burned onto the reader and wouldn’t budge.   Overall however I have been happy with my results.   So I get up this morning, no breakfast, no clothes, and weigh in 143lbs.  Not too bad, a one lb drop since last week.  Get dressed, eat breakfast, and go to the doctors office and they need to weigh me.  OK, I was 143 before clothes and food, so I am guessing that my weigh in will be at about 147lbs give or take a few.  So I step on the scale wearing jeans, a belt, a knit shirt, underwear (under my clothes of course) and socks.  Step on the scale and the nurse moves the 100 weight, and then starts to scoot the 50lb ticker.  She slides it over to 145lbs and the scale goes to a dead rest.  So she taps it back a little to 140lbs (still a dead rest) so she taps it over just a little more and the scale levels out at 138lbs.  Then the nurse announces, wow you have been working hard, you are just under 30 lbs lost.

I feel so bad for the nurse because at first I made her do the whole thing again just to make sure the scale said what it really said and then after it did, I practically tackled the nurse into a bear hug at the news.  While is not sure while why my scale is measuring about 5lbs off, she assures me that the doctor’s scale is probably a lot more accurate then my digitial at home.   

As happy as I am, I am reluctant to update my weight ticker?  Is that weird?

I have been following a really aggressive workout video program for the past three weeks and I noticed that sometimes I wasn’t really giving my all, sometimes I would have to sit out a rep or two and join back in because my muscles were hurting, and sometimes when I would get tired, I would kinda half ass the motions.  Well today I committed to give 110% for the full 79 minutes with NO missed reps… and I DID IT.  Wow did it change my workout, but I am glad I gave it my all (really my all)!

I have to say on the forefront, I love my mom.  She is nerotic, high-strung, and while at times her independence amazes me, her ability to flip the switch and “be the victim” can make my head spin.

I have read countless books the mother/daughter dynamic.  The bottom line is that there are days when given the choice in dealing with the woman or beating my head against the wall, beating my head against the wall would be the easier of the two options.  Today is such a day.

 So I am driving around on sales calls and my cell phone rings… it is my mom from her work, so I answer the phone.  Upon answering the phone my mother promptly tells me “I am not going to be around much longer”.  So, half distracted I ask her, so where are you going?  Are you looking for a new job?  Sounds like reasonable questions to ask right… Well in this very contrary voice she tells me, “Valerie, I don’t think I am going to be alive much longer.” 

No joke, the words feel like a gun shot wound, I pull over off the side of the road and start to fight back tears and ask my mom “Oh my God mom, whats wrong, do you have cancer?”  I can barely choke the words out and I am racking my brain trying to remember if she had mentioned visiting the doctor recently.  To which she cooly replies… ”No, nothing like that, I just feel my body getting older and I think I am going to die soon.” 

Anger starts to settle in.  My mom is 55 years old… has no health problems other then a little carpal syndrom, and she is calling me to tell me that she thinks she is going to die soon.  WTF! 

So I try to stay calm and I ask her, mom why do you feel this way?  And she comes back with, well you know that Grandma died young.  To which I tell my mom that while that is true Grandma died at a young age, she died from lung cancer and liver failure and the woman drank 1/5 of gin daily and smoked 3-4 packs a day. I also point out that my mom doesn’t drink or smoke.

And you what my mom tells me? She tells me I know, but she just feels it her body, that she is dieing.  OK, getting angry and frustrated again so I ask my mom - are you willing to see a doctor? her answer no.  Are you willing to see a theripist? her answer no.  So now what do I do?  Well I let my frystration get the best of me and I play along.  I tell her that it is sad she feels this way, but if this is how she truely feels, that we should starting talking about the things she wants to do before she dies.  (I know this is wrong, but my options are fight with her or play along…. ugh, both a lose lose situation)  She gets mad and hangs up the phone on me.

Ten minutes later my phone rings again and it is my little sister… this is not good.  I pick up the phone and my sister is screaming into the phone, ”Did mom just call you and tell you that she was going to die soon? And did you tell her that you would start planning her funeral?” No sooner then the question leaving her lips my other line starts ringing and it is my other sister….

I wish I knew better ways to handle this stuff.   

K, so it is now offical.  I am 90 days today into my weight loss journey.  There have been days that I felt like a could conquer the world, there were days when I felt like if life was the windshield, then I was the bug.  However, it has been 90 days and I have had results and the proof is in the numbers:

90 days ago I would have been embarassed and ashamed to admit some of my measurements.  While I still have work ahead of me I am so glad I took the time to track my results.  Moving one size is nice, but really seeing those numbers in B & W helps me really see all my hard work.  Thank you to all the folks on BS who have been of support and encouragement.  It really is turbulent ride without a support system behind you.

Ugh… it is that time of the month and the cramps are unbareable.  Took Midol… nothing!  So went to my old tried and true standby: chocholate and wine.  Worked like a charm.   How are women suppose to lose weight when we are programmed be comforted by the very things that keep us from being thin?

OK, another sleepless night last night and my brain just wouldn’t shut off.  I was laying in bed and started thinking about creating some sort of feat of strength for myself.  So, I got up out of bed and started to search events that occur annually near my house and low and behold, I think I found my feat of strength.   Next August they are hosting a sprint triathlon about 5 miles from my home.   It is much shorter version of the full triathlon, but will still place some major training in my future.  The total race is a 1/2 mile swim (the area where I need to work the most), a 13 mile bike ride (just need to improve time) and a 3.1 mile run (should be pretty good if I can build the stanima).  I know this sounds pretty crazy, but it has me pretty excited and definately puts a bigger goal in site for me.  So, baring pregnancy between now and then, I am starting to train effective next week.  My husband thinks I am nuts, but I guess that is why he picked me.