Okay...Hubby has pleurisy AGAIN!! But he will be fine.
Now...on to the subject.
I have been exercising very hard now for 7 long months. I have spent 8-9 hours a week at the Y doing cardio everyday and weight machines three days a week. I had lost 10 pounds. But the holidays hit and I gained 4 back. Four I could handle, even forgive myself for, but last week hit and I gained the ALL THE REST BACK. I swear, I didn't eat more or cheat on my diet. I have even cooked from scratch all but one meal in the last two weeks. I have decided that stress makes me pack on pounds, whatever my diet. I have had several people make that comment here, but I don't understand how it can add pounds when I am not adding calories. But I have to admit my stress level has been so high this week that I have almost ended up in tears several times. And the weight just piled itself on so there's got to be something to that.
So, I have decided to redouble my efforts and make a change in my workout. It was time for me to change the weight routine anyway, so I lowered the weights and am doing fast reps to complete muscle failure. I'm not talking 15 or 20 reps, I'm talking 45-50 reps. It must have worked because I am one sore puppy. Trust me, it hurts just to type this post. But the other thing I implemented today (and it was one of the hardest things I have done in a long time)... I started running on the treadmill.
Now first, remember, I hate sweating. I loathe that tickling, dripping feeling of sweat running down your back. I hate clothes sticking to me and my hair getting frizzy. I....hate...sweat. But I hate running more. I hate running because I still have some chest pain from time to time after my lovely medical drama last year and I am slightly afraid of it. When I started running today I had such a tightness in my chest that I was about to call for the defibrillator myself. But I kept telling myself that it was just anxiety and I worked through it.
But the real reason I hate running is because I have a big old BUTT. I have a big old butt and chunky thighs. When I run I feel all that weight bobbing up and down. It's like the Anti-Baywatch, where their boobs just sway back and forth when they run. My butt lobs itself three feet in the air and anybody who dares to get in its flight pattern better be wearing full body armor. It's embarassing and a little painful. I feel like I need a butt-bra just to contain the thing. But alas, that would just be biker shorts and I am definitely not putting my ass on that kind of display.
But today on the treadmill I would walk for 8 minutes and then run for 2 minutes. I know, 2 minutes is not a a lot, but it was the most I could do at one time and I ended up doing it 4 times. I have to start somewhere. Maybe when my butt reaches a manageable size I will be able to run a mile, but until then, if you see me at the Y, be prepared to duck!