Well, I am in week...something...of this adventure, and I'm one week down in my diet challenge. My first week of eating more went pretty well. It was difficult to fight the temptation to cut my calories after gaining a few pounds, but I feel like I have found a happy place and I'm already feeling lighter and just generally healthier. It might be a placebo effect, or there might be some kind of actual change brewing. We'll find out soon enough.
My first big test was the weekend: a birthday party, then the urge to overindulge at dinner Saturday night, and on Sunday, friends over for lunch. But as much as I psyched myself up to resist the temptation, I didn't find it as hard as I expected. I know my former habits weren't getting me anywhere, and I am done with them. It was refreshing and calming to be back in control. For maybe the fourth time in my entire life, I relaxed. I know that for some of you, the idea of relaxation as a byproduct of hyperactive control might be an oxymoron, but those of you who know me well know that it's just how I am. Relaxation is foreign to me, and sometimes the only way I can get there is by knowing that I am in complete control of my surroundings. It's how I roll.
But maybe what really churned me on was something I read in my new favorite book. I have spent a good amount of time complaining about my slow metabolism, fat-hoarding genetics, and the general bad hand of cards I was dealt in regards to my overall physique. Basically, a bunch of griping about how unfair it was that while I worked out twice as hard as the person next to me, I had half of the results. I'll admit it: I was bitter. I joked that when I died, I was going to have a little one-on-one time with God and ask whether there was some kind of mix-up to explain why I had been given size medium bones and size large skin. But I wasn't really kidding. Call me shallow, but I was ticked.
I always felt that I could overcome the genetics and fight nature to get the results that I craved. That's why I was intrigued by this tidbit of information courtesy of author Lou Schuler: he tells us that when it comes to our diet and workouts, the results we see are only 40% determined by our genetics, and the other 60% is what we put in. Now, I'm paraphrasing, these ratios are estimates, and everyone is different, but it gives me hope that I can erase what I once thought was carved in stone.
So I've been using this bit of knowledge to motivate myself to run a little faster, do a couple more intervals, reach for the heavier weights, and pass on the birthday cake. I would just love to show up at the pearly gates and stick it to God and His Master Plan. (You thought I was going to be pudgy? Think again, sucka!)
And then God smited me. Okay, I probably had a little something to do with it, too. I've been trying to ignore the subtle throbbing in my knees after my workouts, and the slight feeling that I was doing something very, very bad to myself in my morning runs. I just turned up the music and hit the pavement, pushing aside the little voice in my head reminding me of the risks of high-impact sports. I am an endorphin junkie, and I needed my fix. But this week, I couldn't ignore it.
I'm at a crossroads. The warrior in me wants to suck it up and keep going, dealing with the consequences later when I'm old and I don't care about my abs anymore. But I know the truth. I'll always care about my abs.
This morning I walked. It sucked. I felt lame. I didn't even sweat. I don't know what I will do next, but one thing is certain - I learned my lesson about smack-talk with God.
7 comments:
God will do that to you.
I think what I have been trying to get acrossed to you isn't that you just need to deal with not having abs. But rather, take it in context. Don't take your ab training as a competition with other people's abs. You aren't them. Compete with yourself.
I mean, you are one of the thinnest women here. The ones that are less look like bones in skin. No boobs, no butt.
Be happy that you look good and are healthy. And remember, ALL THINGS IN MODERATION.
Also, try not to cry about that fact that even with all this work, I could still beat you up.
I'm not trying to become thinner. I'm trying to become more efficient. And define "moderation".
You know, you should make sure and have your appendix and tonsils removed. Dead weight, and terribly innefficient.
Mederation=not destroying my joints and such just so I can have good abs for a few years.
1. Shut up.
2. Don't judge me.
:)
You aren't the boss of me.
*judgejudge* *judgey judge judge*
I was thinking this morning (ahem, during my RUN) that I need to clarify this abs thing. You keep saying "get abs". Everyone is born with abdominal muscles; we all have abs. And my abs are strong and muscular; I can feel them. What I am working towards is a loss of fat on top of the abs. I just want to clarify that abs are standard out of the box equipment; I just want to updgrade.
I am well aware of what you want. You want your abs to look like nature doesn't make them. And how most of human history has never portrayed female abs. I get it.
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