catheroominations

Well, today was the big dunk test to see how much body fat I lost and how much muscle I gained. I mentioned before that when I was tested at the beginning of the 10-week boot camp challenge I was at 34.1% body fat. That is in the poor range, so there was lots of room for improvement.

Over the last 10 weeks I have missed maybe 5 days of boot camp and three of those were because I was out of town. I have a serious addiction to this boot camp and I am a completely different person on the days we don’t have it. I’m tired, sluggish and kinda bitchy, really. But on boot camp days I have so much energy, especially immediately after. I could beat Tigger in a bounce contest I am so hyper afterward – even at 7 am. The exercise part of the challenge was not hard for me. I mean the working out was hard, but the motivation to do it? I just wanted to because I love it. The workouts push my limits, and sometimes I might hate some of the exercises, like burpees, who the hell invented those little shits of torture? I do the reps and I sweat like a pig, burning around 500 calories on the weekday workouts, and more than 600 on the Saturday workouts. I swear, I frakking love boot camp so much that I’m going to get a license plate frame made that says BOOT CAMP IS MY PROZAC because holy damn it is.

The food part of the challenge wasn’t too horribly hard for me either, only because I had changed my eating habits last Labor Day when I joined Weight Watchers. I needed to make a few adjustments in this challenge though, like cut out all sugar (no more dark chocolate from Trader Joe’s) and refined flour products (no bread – gah!), and boost my protein intake focusing on lean meats and those high in omega-3 fats like salmon. I learned to love some new foods, like almond butter and flax seeds, and didn’t really miss sugar or alcohol. Social events pretty much sucked as far as will power went, and I had moments of weakness, but when I did I picked up where I left off and got back to healthy eating as soon as I could.

Each week I took measurements and weighed in. The first week I lost four pounds and I thought, “Wow! This is a piece of cake! At this rate I’ll be at my goal weight before 10 weeks is even done.” So very not true.

I lost no more weight for a long time after that. WTF? For weeks the scale did not budge. I was losing inches though – half an inch here, two inches there, but I could not get past the number on the scale. Even my clothes told me I was transforming because I had to pull out my smaller pants about halfway through the challenge. But the scale was stuck. I thought it might be broken, but I trudged along, working out five times a week and eating vegetables until I practically turned green.

Throughout this I’d watch my friends go out to lunch while I sat at my desk eating food I prepared and brought from home. I watched Matte enjoy wine while we watched TV and I slurped water from my SIGG bottle. I went to parties and allowed myself one glass of wine that I usually couldn’t finish, came home sober, and woke up sans hangover. The non-hangover mornings were an added benefit to this new way of living, and with the two liters of water my body craved every day, even my skin looked better – another bonus. Eventually I lost a couple more pounds, but they didn’t seem indicative of the amount of work I was putting into this.

Basically I kicked ass for 10 weeks and was nervous and excited to see where my body fat would be at today’s dunk test. I was so excited I could not sleep. I woke up at 5am wondering if it was time to go yet and every five minutes after that to see if it was 7.

When I got to the body fat testing place I saw that my toughest competition was about to get dunked in the time slot before mine. This woman has not attended boot camp as religiously as I have, but she told me awhile back that she’s lost double digits in pounds and in inches. Bitch. Many of my fellow boot campers have hinted that I was a lock to win this because I have shrunk so much and look so toned. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to know how I had really progressed until I did the dunk this morning.

The dunker dude called me into the truck for my turn while my fierce competitor was still inside in the changing room. When she came out, I asked her about her test and she said she had a 10% improvement. This is practically unheard of, and the dunker dude told me that only bodybuilders lose body fat at a 1% a week rate. I knew when I got into that tub of water to see how buoyant I was I needed to get to 24% body fat.

I didn’t make it. She beat me, taking me out of the running for a free year of boot camp. After all my hard work, determination, anal retentive boot camp attendance, and piles of rabbit food, I would not win the challenge. I faked a smile at the supportive dunker dude when he handed me my report but I wanted to cry.

After I changed out of my sopping swimsuit I went out to find my boot camp instructor who was outside jumping up and down to hear my results. She wanted to capture my excited reaction on video for her website. Only I wasn’t excited, I was dejected. I worked SO DAMN HARD and I didn’t win. I couldn’t focus on anything else. I couldn’t think about how awesome my body feels, how much less space I take up in the world, how I don’t feel bulky anymore, and how my body doesn’t jiggle in places where it used to. I didn’t care that my waist is 26 inches or that my thighs have shrunk and if you touch my abs, they’re hard. It didn’t matter that I went from a poor 34.1% body fat to a healthy 29.6%. I had lost the game, and I had lost to the person I knew would beat me – the person who WAS NOT at boot camp every single day. WTF?

DAMMIT! I WORKED SO HARD! So, she had a baby a year ago and still had baby weight to lose. Whatever. Who cares? She doesn’t work. For all I know she has a gym inside her house. Maybe every time the baby sleeps she rides a spin bike, or climbs a Stairmaster. Or maybe she has a nanny and spent every day at the gym or at a spa getting fat reduction treatment. She could not have won fair and square, could she? She didn’t work as hard as I did! I was sure of it because people think I am insane about my devotion to this, and that woman is so totally not even close to insanity. Not to diminish how busy moms of newborns are, but all I could think was she worked out outside bootcamp, something I couldn’t do.

I was fighting back tears the whole drive home. Yes, I’m a sore loser. I don’t care (pout). Anyone who worked as hard at this as I did would be pissed too. All week, Matte and I looked forward to going to Hobee’s for blueberry coffeecake smothered in butter after the dunk test. I know you’re not supposed to reward yourself with food, but sweet baby jesus, I needed something sinful to eat. After learning I didn’t win though, I no longer wanted it. I wanted bell peppers and lettuce and tasteless food that might make me lose more body fat. My boot camp instructor was hosting an end-of-challenge celebratory BBQ in the afternoon and I didn’t even want to go to that. I was afraid my emotions would betray me when she announced the winner of the contest was someone other than me. I wanted to crawl into a ball and cry like the big fat baby I was, but the coffeecake won and I savored every scrumptious bite.

I once read a quote that said “Comparison is the thief of joy.” Never was it more true than today. Comparison to my boot camp rival is what stole the joy I should have had in my own success. I mean, I am now in a healthy body fat range! Just 10 weeks ago, my percentage was “poor”. There’s nothing lower than “poor” except dead. I lost 8 pounds of fat, and gained 2 pounds of muscle. I LOST FOURTEEN GOTDAMN INCHES! FOUR. TEEN. INCHES. I mean really! Today me could kick 10-week-ago me’s ass.

It took me a few hours and some retail therapy to realize I was being a dipshit. Do you know how good it feels to put on jeans that you haven’t even been able to pull all the way on in over a year? I’ll tell you how it feels. It feels AWESOME! As awesome as trying on clothes in the Macy’s Juniors Department and having them fit! It’s also very satisfying hearing people who haven’t seen me in awhile ask, “WOW! How much weight have you lost?” They never believe me when I say, “Only about eight pounds,” because it looks like more. That’s all boot camp, baby.

So despite my disappointment at not winning the free year I’ll still go to boot camp. I’ll pay my hard earned money and get up at 5 am and go workout in a beautiful park (in the dark these days) with my incredible trainers who will kick my ass every day. I go partly because of my addiction, yes, but mostly because I am making an investment in myself and the returns are not only guaranteed, they are frakking incredible.

I just got the new Brendan Benson album (if I can still call it that) and holy shenanigans it is AWESOME. I can’t stop listening to it and when I got home today, I popped it into the BOSE and immediately had to shed my tennies and socks and clothes – to change into shorts and a tank top – so I could dance all around the kitchen like a whirling dervish.

Just listen to Feel Like Taking You Home and tell me if you can sit still while it plays. (Just click the play button to start the track.)

And A Whole Lot Better

And Don’t Wanna Talk

If I had had this CD a month or two ago, I’d be at my goal weight from spinning around and jumping up and down so much.

Today is my birthday and it has been awesome.

I treat birthdays like a little kid does, and I like to celebrate for a week or so. If a card or box comes in the mail, I don’t wait until my actual birthday to open it because I want to open it NOW. Birthdays aren’t about the presents, I know, but I can’t help it! I love the presents! Today though, some of the best things were not presents. Don’t get me wrong, I received some lovely things from my family and friends, I’m just saying that the non-present stuff was pretty kickass too.

The boot camp girls sang happy birthday to me while we did our post-workout stretching. Hearing people sing to me usually makes me cry (I’m a sap like that) but I was too busy stretching out my sore glutes to cry.

My birthday latte from Peet’s. It wasn’t free; I bought it for myself, but it was a treat and oh so delicious.

I spent the afternoon at Preston-Wynne Spa in Saratoga with my friend Rachel. I got a seaweed detoxifying body wrap and an hour-long massage. After the body wrap, the aesthetician applied a fabulous body-smoothing oil and while she was massaging it into my arms, she siad, “Wow! You have some serious muscle in your arms!” and when she did my stomach, she said, “And your abs have a lot of muscle too.” So, the bootcamp is paying off! After the treatments, they brought Rachel and me each a glass of champagne, which almost put us to sleep after our relaxing treatments. My body wrap technician found the last bottles of Tunisian Flower body wash, skin smoother and sugar scrub that they had in the spa. It has been discontinued, so I was very excited to buy the last of it! I wish you could smell it because it smells like vacation on a tropical island.

When I got home there were more presents and cards in the mailbox – YAY!

USA aired two episodes of Law & Order SVU that I have never seen before. That never happens.

If you’re not on Facebook, you should be because on your birthday you get about a million birthday wishes written on your wall. Too much fun!

You should also be on Twitter and you should tweet something about how it would be really cool if a celebrity you follow sent you a happy birthday tweet. Because then you might get something like this:

Now I’m headed to dinner with the hubby – nothing too fancy because I’m still doing the 10-week boot camp challenge, but after Saturday when I get my body fat tested again (update on that after I get the results), there will be mouth-watering filet mignon and many other illegal foods (along with copious amounts of red wine). See? I told you I like celebrating for more than just one day.

I know I’ve been neglecting my humble little blog here, but when one wakes at 5, works out from 6-7, gets to work by 8:30 (on a good day), gets home at 7 pm and then goes to bed at 9, all while taking writing class at UCLA Extension, when does one have time to blog?

The good news is that the 10-week challenge is going well and will be over on August 29 when I can return to a more social schedule. I’ll still be doing Bootcamp but I won’t be as militant about it and I won’t be spending so much spare time prepping food every night – what a lot of work!

So if you’re still out there, stay tuned. I’ll be posting a story I wrote for my writing class soon – a personal essay. It’s really long, so I’ll warn y’all ahead of time.

Until then please enjoy this photo of Desmond that I took with my iPhone.

*Blog Protectve Services

I am in a slump. A weight-loss slump. So when my friend Rachel told me about a bootcamp she was considering joining, I jumped at the chance to get back into shape. Those of you who have been here awhile or knew me back in 2003-2004 when I was smokin’ hot, know that I have done bootcamp before and got in some crazy good shape, coming off an anorexic 6 months or so. Seriously, I was pretty ripped, or as ripped as I can be. I had definition in my abs and had strong arms and a smaller, rounder ass that someone once told me resembled that of Britney Spears. Yeah, I really looked like that. And I have pictures to prove it.

That was then.

You all know about my weight issues. You’ve read them here before. I’ve been on Weight Watchers since Labor Day and have lost no more than 15 pounds. Wait. I have probably lost around 50 pounds since joining, but it’s the same 1 or 2 or 3 pounds multiple times. Anyway, stuck at a 15-pound loss, I knew bootcamp would help me blast oodles of calories as well as this persistent plateau.

On June 1 I woke up at 5 am to get to the park by 6. Rachel and I did not know what to expect but we (I think we?) were pleasantly surprised by a kick-ass workout that would leave us deliciously sore every Monday through Thursday and also on Saturdays. Audra, our trainer is AWESOME. Possibly the most awesome bootcamp instructor I have had (and I have had several).

To keep us motivated during our summer workouts, Audra created a 10-week challenge that began on June 13th. The challenge comprises regular bootcamp workouts along with holistic nutrition counseling. Whoever wins the challenge by losing the most body fat and/or gaining the most muscle wins a year of bootcamp. For free. A whole year. This might sound funny, that I would want a year’s worth of waking up at 5 am Monday through Thursday and 7 am on Saturdays. Most people don’t want to get up before the birds and work their butts off to the tune of 500-600 calories per workout. More than that, most people don’t want to pay to have to do it. I’m willing to pay to get into shape, but I don’t think I will be paying much longer because I plan to win this challenge. Oh, and after 12 months of bootcamp, Audra will buy me whatever pair of jeans I want, no matter the cost. If they’re going to be expensive, they’re also going to be small.

I have a lot to work with. Despite the 15-pound loss and my ability to fit into my smaller clothes, I am fat. Don’t deny it, I’m not pitying myself. I have scientific proof of said fatness. When I did my bodyfat composition testing at the beginning of the challenge, I knew the percentage of fat on my body would be not good. In fact, I joked with Matte before taking the test. With no knowledge of what was good and what was bad, I told him, “I’ll bet you I’ll test at 35% fat. Watch.” He thought I was crazy, but I wasn’t too far off.

People, 34 percent of my body is FAT. So, see? I can say I am fat because one third of my body is pure, gooey, flabby, slimy, yellow fat. That is not OK. In fact, 34% puts me in the “poor” category. I know there are people who have much more than 34% bodyfat, and many of those choose to do nothing about it. But that is not OK for me either.

The percentage sucks duck balls. It really does. But I’m glad to not be in denial anymore. Pound-wise, I am within 8 pounds of my goal weight range, but bodyfat-wise, I’m far from healthy. So for the next 10 weeks, I will stick to my trainer’s eating plan that does not include sugar, alcohol, or coffee. I will eat protein and vegetables and drink green tea and pour flax on my yogurt. I will eat healthy fats like almonds, olive oil, and peanut butter and take essential oil supplements. I don’t need sandwiches. I don’t need beer. I don’t need ice cream. What I need is to be healthy and not 34% bodyfat. I will work out for a minimum of 5 hours a week and lunge, squat, plank, jump rope, throw medicine balls, lift kettle bells, pull resistance bands to the point of snapping, and I will run my legs off. At the end of the 10 weeks, if I don’t win the grand prize, I will be fit, with toned muscles, and a decreased percentage of bodyfat.

I wasn’t going to broadcast my percentage to the whole wide Internet, but I needed to so I could be accountable. I plan to check in on regular intervals (maybe just to say “sweet screaming jesus on a wholewheat cracker, my abs are killing me!”) to let you know how I’m progressing. If I stumble, I’ll be here to get some moral support. So far, it’s not been too hard, the eating plan. It’s close to what I was doing on Weight Watchers, but my calories have increased to allow adequate fueling for my crazy workouts. I freaking love bootcamp and always have when I’ve done it in the past. It’s the only workout regimen that has brought me success. The camaraderie, the early morning air, the view of the lake, and the getting it over with by 7 am. It’s what works.

Dang, look at all the cobwebs around here. It’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything. Is anyone still here? Hello? Echo…echo…echoooo…

Lately I just haven’t been feelin’ it dawg. It being really anything. I haven’t felt like taking photos, blogging, writing, reading, exercising, or really anything that requires any initiative on my part. I’m not sure what’s going on, but it seems I have lost my mojo. It would have been helpful if I’d taken a photo of my mojo while it was still here so I could send it to the milk people to put on their cartons.

How I’m feeling is usually reserved for winter, not when it’s sunny and warm and happy outside, so I’m not sure why I have such a case of the blahs. I am suffering from a tremendous lack of motivation and have become a rather large bump on a log. I’m even a bump on a bump on a log. I don’t think it’s depression because I have been depressed before and it wasn’t like this. I think what I have here is a serious case of laziness.

The way I do projects is this: I get really excited and go all crazy about one thing, say, writing. I sign up for a class, I join a writers group, I go to places that help me remember things for my memoir, I read books about writing, on Twitter I follow authors and people who are in “the biz” so I can stay motivated, and I write, and write, and write. And then, for no apparent reason I stop. Done. I just don’t wanna. It’s no longer exciting. I get bored. Bah.

Without giving too much away about this writing project, if it comes together and we finish it (I’m writing it with a friend) it will be awesomely awesome. I’m not just saying that. Everyone I tell about it says “Whoa. That sounds like a great idea. I can’t wait to read your book.” Even people who write and publish books.

But books don’t write themselves. I know this because I have no book so far.

I haven’t written anything since the day I sat in the cafeteria at Stanford Hospital and did an assignment for class. I wrote for one hour about the chaotic sounds (dozens of conversations at once, none of which I could understand), the cacophony of smells (cafeterias are to the nose what nails on a chalkboard are to the ears), and the sights (a bunch of people who look like doctors because they wear scrubs and/or lab coats and clogs but in reality could be housekeeping).

Maybe going back to that place wasn’t such a good idea.

Maybe it momentarily sucked the life out of me again, like it did in 2002.

Maybe it was really freaky to get my records from my therapist at that time and reading them. She used words like anxious, rage, fear, and sadness to describe me. Wait. What? That was me? That’s not who I am now so it’s strange to know I ever was that girl.

Maybe running in to his favorite nurse when I visited oncology wasn’t the best thing. She adored him and now adores his memory. I don’t. She misses him. I don’t. I should probably feel bad about that. But I don’t feel bad. Going back to the oncology floor didn’t make me sad. I remembered it, but I didn’t remember it. It was like I was on the set of a TV show I watch a lot. It looked familiar, but I didn’t feel like I’d been there myself. Nice Nurse hugged me because she thought it was hard for me to go back there. It wasn’t.

Maybe I’m tired of remembering about all the crap he pulled, and how he was not really Mr. Nice Guy everyone thought he was.

Maybe I’m having trouble remembering what it was about him that kept me around. Surely there must have been some Nice Guy moments. I was his doormat for a long time, but I wasn’t a complete moron the whole time. Was I? I can’t remember the good, except that he spent a lot of money on me to try and hide his emotional bankruptcy.

Maybe I’m just scared to do it.

Maybe I’ll fail.

Maybe I suck.

Maybe if I had a better desk where I could write.

Maybe if my work offered a sabbatical to allow me to devote the time to writing. Now that’s no excuse because Faulkner wrote As I Lay Dying during his lunch hours while working in a coal mine or some old-timey job like that, and Alice Hoffman woke up at 5 am everyday to write her first novel before working two jobs transcribing sex clinic sessions and working at a department store (I learned that from her Twitter feed.)

Maybe I should stop making excuses and take the Nike approach.

People, I DID IT. I completed all 30 days of the 30-Day Shred. That means every single one of the last 30 days, I let Jillian Michaels kick my ass all over my living room. She worked my thighs, my shoulders, my biceps, my hamstrings, my back, my abs, my abs, my abs, and my abs.

And you know what? It SHOWS. My pants are so loose, especially in the waist (which is where they’re already loose, but I’m not complaining) and hips.

And my ass? It’s rounder and firmer and doesn’t jiggle much at all when I run and jump in place.

I still have work to do and despite the lost inches (I have no idea how many because I didn’t take measurements before or after) I am not even in my goal weight range yet. I know the lack of weight loss is due to muscle gain so I’m no longer beating myself up for the scale not budging. Instead, I removed the scale from my house. Stupid little square panel that gives me bad news all the time. Get outta my house!

One of my motivators during the last 30 days, aside from the friendly competition with the others at Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans is that I have a wedding to go to later this month. The dress I am wearing is a halter, so I need good arms and a nice back for it. Wanna see the dress? It’s here. Cute, huh? I don’t typically wear long dresses, but my friend Liza bought the same dress for a wedding (we both hate our legs) and let me try it on. I was in love. That love grew stronger with a 20% coupon Liza sent me. My arms and back don’t look like the model in the photo because sometimes I eat. But I still think the dress is flattering on my newly shredded self.

I HIGHLY recommend this DVD to anyone who wants to be in better shape and get some all-over toning. It’s a very challenging workout but oh so worth it. If you’re not accustomed to exercise, don’t fret, there are lower impact versions of the moves for beginners. All you need is a mat and some hand weights (I use 5-pounders but might increase to 8). You have nothing to lose but sag and flab, so try it! And if you do, let me know so I can cheer you on. I’m planning to extend the 30 days for as long a I can, so I’ll be shredding along with you. We can curse Jillian together.