1. I will drink at least 8 full glasses of water each day.
2. I will exercise 5 days, including a 6 a.m. spin class on Wednesday.
3. At least 2 of my snacks each day will be fresh fruit or veggies.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Dangling the Carrot - or something
With all of this talk of goals - training goals, fitness goals, shape & measurement goals - I must be careful to remember that goals met = rewards. Or at least it should work that way.
So I need to be prepared! And it must not be something edible! I cannot reward myself with Ice Cream when the next jeans fit.
This seems like it should be easy, but I'm coming up short. My inner administrator would like to create a chart illustrating the reward schedule. I would like the option to forego smaller rewards and roll them into bigger rewards. I would like to devise some type of point plan where I receive instant rewards for passing up empty calories... (i.e. passing up ice cream = 3 points; 15 points = an hour of "me" time.)
But I haven't done that yet, because I can't come up with enough appropriate rewards. I think this is because I am not very good at rewarding myself, at least not with the universally accepted "mom rewards." I loathe shopping for clothes and accessories. I paint my own nails, thankyouverymuch. Spa treatments make me generally uncomfortable.
Your thoughts? Always open to suggestions!
So I need to be prepared! And it must not be something edible! I cannot reward myself with Ice Cream when the next jeans fit.
This seems like it should be easy, but I'm coming up short. My inner administrator would like to create a chart illustrating the reward schedule. I would like the option to forego smaller rewards and roll them into bigger rewards. I would like to devise some type of point plan where I receive instant rewards for passing up empty calories... (i.e. passing up ice cream = 3 points; 15 points = an hour of "me" time.)
But I haven't done that yet, because I can't come up with enough appropriate rewards. I think this is because I am not very good at rewarding myself, at least not with the universally accepted "mom rewards." I loathe shopping for clothes and accessories. I paint my own nails, thankyouverymuch. Spa treatments make me generally uncomfortable.
Your thoughts? Always open to suggestions!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
And then it hit me...
I had an epiphany today.
I realized why I have never been successful at staying fit.
It's going to seem like a no-brainer to you. But here it is:
I have never made it a lifestyle. Ta-Da!
And what's more - I realized today that I have never made anything a lifestyle. At least not permanently.
I always have this sense that there are so many things in my life that I would be really good at ... If I would just commit myself to them. But my pattern isn't one of commitment. My pattern is one of distractedness. I learn to do something, I do it compulsively, then I place it in the "tried it" column and move on. In my head, I am still a pianist/volleyball player/tennis player/avid reader/writer/ancestry buff/crocheter/baker/cake decorator/scrapbooker... but if I'm truly honest with myself, I can really only say that those are things that I can do. Some of those activities see a little more time in my schedule than others, but none of them are a part of my day-to-day lifestyle. Therefore, my expectations for performance when I do pick one of them up are realistically low. And that's okay.
As I look back, I see the same pattern with exercise. I decide to get fit, compulsively work out for a month, get bored/sick/distracted/frustrated, and find something else to focus on. But my expectations don't change. I still want to be fit, still expect to fit into the same clothes, still hope to feel good about what I see in the mirror.
The only way for that to happen is to make this an actual lifestyle. For the rest of my life. Not for this little deadline or blogging project or until my skinny jeans fit. As daunting as that seems, it really takes some of the pressure off of my fast-approaching goal date.
I realized why I have never been successful at staying fit.
It's going to seem like a no-brainer to you. But here it is:
I have never made it a lifestyle. Ta-Da!
And what's more - I realized today that I have never made anything a lifestyle. At least not permanently.
I always have this sense that there are so many things in my life that I would be really good at ... If I would just commit myself to them. But my pattern isn't one of commitment. My pattern is one of distractedness. I learn to do something, I do it compulsively, then I place it in the "tried it" column and move on. In my head, I am still a pianist/volleyball player/tennis player/avid reader/writer/ancestry buff/crocheter/baker/cake decorator/scrapbooker... but if I'm truly honest with myself, I can really only say that those are things that I can do. Some of those activities see a little more time in my schedule than others, but none of them are a part of my day-to-day lifestyle. Therefore, my expectations for performance when I do pick one of them up are realistically low. And that's okay.
As I look back, I see the same pattern with exercise. I decide to get fit, compulsively work out for a month, get bored/sick/distracted/frustrated, and find something else to focus on. But my expectations don't change. I still want to be fit, still expect to fit into the same clothes, still hope to feel good about what I see in the mirror.
The only way for that to happen is to make this an actual lifestyle. For the rest of my life. Not for this little deadline or blogging project or until my skinny jeans fit. As daunting as that seems, it really takes some of the pressure off of my fast-approaching goal date.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Good news!
My watch is loose. Well, loose-er. This is great news, of course, because it means that somewhere, finally, some of me is disappearing.
And, just like every girl out there, I've always been very self-conscious about that unsightly fat that gathers around my wrists.
I am impatient. So to show my impatience who was boss this week, I decided NOT to weigh in on Monday. I decided I would relax a bit, give myself another week or so before weighing and measuring again. The truth here is that I just didn't want to be disappointed again. I wasn't feeling particularly victorious this week, in spite of walking 112 miles through Disney this weekend and passing up every Mickey Ice Cream Bar, Churro and french fry on property.
So I gave myself a break. And I didn't hop on the scale. Until after lunch. AFTER lunch, which is also AFTER breakfast (that's 2 meals now in my belly) and AFTER a considerable amount of fluid consumption. And guess what? The scale was lower. Surprisingly lower. I assume that this means that if I'd weighed myself before the two meals and 64 oz of water, I would have been pleasantly surprised, instead of grouchy that I hadn't "earned" myself the right to weigh in.
I get it, God. You're in charge. But if you're accepting suggestions of where to take the next few ounces from, I have a few. I wouldn't have started with my wrists.
And, just like every girl out there, I've always been very self-conscious about that unsightly fat that gathers around my wrists.
I am impatient. So to show my impatience who was boss this week, I decided NOT to weigh in on Monday. I decided I would relax a bit, give myself another week or so before weighing and measuring again. The truth here is that I just didn't want to be disappointed again. I wasn't feeling particularly victorious this week, in spite of walking 112 miles through Disney this weekend and passing up every Mickey Ice Cream Bar, Churro and french fry on property.
So I gave myself a break. And I didn't hop on the scale. Until after lunch. AFTER lunch, which is also AFTER breakfast (that's 2 meals now in my belly) and AFTER a considerable amount of fluid consumption. And guess what? The scale was lower. Surprisingly lower. I assume that this means that if I'd weighed myself before the two meals and 64 oz of water, I would have been pleasantly surprised, instead of grouchy that I hadn't "earned" myself the right to weigh in.
I get it, God. You're in charge. But if you're accepting suggestions of where to take the next few ounces from, I have a few. I wouldn't have started with my wrists.
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