PMS...

...makes everything harder than it has to be.

There have been all kinds of scientific studies that say PMS does not affect appetite or food choices. Riiiight... Clearly these scientists have never been to my house and gotten between me and my chocolate chip cookie dough. If it didn't affect those things, then why does avoiding salt and getting some extra vitamin E ease the sypmtoms?

Identity Crisis

I think I'm having some kind of identity crisis. My first baby is working really hard at leaving the nest and going off to college. Independant. Separate from me, never really "at home" ever again. (At least not if I'm doing my job right.) This has me thinking about who I am now.

No longer am I the two sport collegic athlete I was at 19. I'm not the young mother who's tired, but still has a young body. I'm not even the person I was four years ago when I lost weight and got fit prior to my 20th high school reunion. The me I am now likes to read. Likes to stay at home. I no longer feel compelled to even run an efficient household. My blood work is good and except for a nagging back injury, I don't feel unhealthy. I'm not unhealthy. But by past standards I'm just unfit. When I look in the mirror, I still see all my muscle, but it's hiding under this layer of fat that I can't explain and is completely foreign to me.

I did see my doctor about hormone levels. At 42 years old, it's time. She confirmed I'm low on testosterone. I'm told this hormone in women has everything to do with sleep, muscle tone retention and metabolism by extention, even energy and feelings of vulnerability. She's asked me to look into some replacement therapy. I'm seriously considering it as I continue to feel like I'm fighting myself. I just wish I could figure out who I'm fighting to be. I've never been forty-something before. I don't know my body, I don't know my rolls and my relationships are changing. I don't like not knowing. It makes goal setting feel impossible. I'm floundering rather than latching on to some kind of motivation. It continues to be elusive to me.

Apparently, I am still not one of those grown-ups who does better because she knows better.

Now What??

178 on the scale this morning. What the heck do I do with THAT?!

Yes, I've exercise a smidge more this week and yes, the process of tearing down and building up muscle causes water retention, but three pounds? Seriously? *shakes her head* Days like this make me wonder why I bother.

The problem with feeling thinner, but not actually being thinner, well much thinner anyway, is that you stand in your closet grumpy and defeated. It's Sunday again. I still have nothing to wear to church. My arm will still flap in the breeze as I wave it about to conduct the congregational singing. Nothing anyone else can see - even me, except perhaps my improved skin, will indicate the dedication, sweat and hard work of the last three weeks.

I'm sure some very deep part of my subconscious knew just how hard this process was going to be. That's why I fought it so diligently for so long despite my whining to the contrary. My but I'm a whiny person. I thought hunger was supposed to make you listless.

Slow and Not So Steady

I might be able to handle painfully slow weightloss if it was in anyway consistant. If the rules were hard and fast. There are just too many variables to track and it's exhuasting just to try. I sometimes think competative bodybuilders are the only ones insane enough and stubborn enough to so tightly control their diet. They watch proteins, carbs, fats, kinds of fats, kinds of proteins, good carbs, bad carbs...calories burned, calories consumed, time of day, in combinations...it makes my head spin.

I SO don't want losing weight to be a full or even part-time job.

So here I am one month out on this blog, down a pitiful two pounds and 1% of bodyfat. It's not even enough to change my waist measurements. I suppose that's the appeal of programs like Jenny Craig and Nutrisystems which control the food and all it's variables. People pay for someone else's grief on their behalf. I want to eat real food.

Apparently I'm still not one of those people who instinctively eats what they should and stops eating when they should. I don't suppse wanting to be will change my body chemistry or engrained thought paths.

It's Sunday Again...

Yes, it's Sunday again and I even have to get up infront of people today. The Sunday School class I teach is doing a presentation to the other children today. Everyone will be looking at me. I'll do my make-up, fix my hair, wear jewelery in a desperate hope to attract attention away from my body with sparkly things, but I will still be me in this body.

We went out to dinner with friends last night. I didn't need the fried wontons. The pad thai wasn't a bad choice, but the Grater's Ice Cream afterward was. I didn't really even want it. I just didn't want to see any of the movies my husand and friends were considering more. I really wanted to curl up in bed and go to sleep, but we weren't driving. So dessert won.

This morning, I'm bloated and feeling icky and have no new camoflauge to wear to church.

Hormones are Evil

Hormones are the exception to every diet math rule. They are the exception to every rule, to everything predictable! The scale had a happy number this morning and that should have made me happy. But how can I be since the only thing I can attribute it to is hormones, the one thing I have absolutely no control over. Hormones are evil.