A Bicycle Built for Two Big Buns

A few years ago I bought a Schwin from the Schwin Store. Because I'm tall, I don't fit quite right on the bikes I've bought from Target. Of course I figured that if I had the right bike, I'd ride it more. Well, no surprise to my gentle readers, I'm not the next triathlete. But, I wanted something different to do, and Jonathan has been gearing up for some serious rides (pun intended).

So I strapped on my helmet and off I went. For those of you who don't know my neighborhood, the village next to me is called Barrington Hills. Hills is the operative word. Many a weekend morning I have had to maneuver around flocks of riders enjoying the challenge of the rolling hills and stately mc mansions. I mentally pictured the hills as smooth and easy. I suppose they are to some.

My initial plan was to take the road through my subdivision and the one behind mine to avoid the heavier traficked roads and head to the hills. As I made a right-turn onto the anticipated road, I saw my first hill. I shifted my gears into low, or is it high - the plus-signs and minus-signs on my handlebars which indicate what direction I'm shifting still confuse me, I set my helmet for maximum aerodynamic impact and pedaled like the Wicked Witch of the West in a tornado. Then I slowly came to a stop. My legs felt like jelly, and I was defeated.

I walked my bike to the top of the hill and enjoyed the reward of a swift coast towards a local park with a less challenging bike path.

Here's what I know: biking isn't awful, I can still get a good ride in without trying to bike with the big guys, and I have a goal to conquer that hill by the end of the summer.

Day 2 An Hour each day? Really?

 I'm supposed to exercise 1 hour each day. Frankly, I'm intimidated by this. I keep looking for excuses not to. The excuses have nothing to do with my time management - in reality I have the time. Of course I want the path of least resistance, so I tell myself, "I lost weight and got fit before with 3X a week aerobic and 2X a week strenght. Why can't I just exercise 3X a week?" Or I dwell on the experts who say 1/2 hour of walking per day is enough. If that's the case, 1 hour 3X a week gets the job done.
  After all those argments are out on the table, I keep coming back to the fact that I should just do it for as long as I can. There's no harm in getting some form of exercise every day. I can break up the work. Somedays I might walk for the full hour, other days, I could bike and walk. What about a suburban triathalon where I walk for 20, bike for 20 and jump around in the pool (to the extent that I keep my heart rate up) for 20? I kind of like that mix. There's always taking a class at the gym. I have to figure out how my work schedule will work with this and I still have some limitations on my wrist, but it's a posibility.
 I can only assume that I'll see faster and more solid results if I kick this into gear. Who knows, I might just discover an inner zen that I can feed.

Day 1 Will I love you tomorrow?

I clean the house. That means someone who has never been here before is coming over. Like a seven-year-old expecting a favorite friend, I gather my toys together so that we can play. I'm secretly hoping he's excited and impressed that I have these things, but also fear that he will think - well obviously she doesn't use them....

We do our fitness assessment. He has a high tech scale that sends electronic signals through my body and tells me how much of my weight is bone, water, muscle and fat. I think there's a science fiction book or show somewhere that refers to humans as sacs of water. He also takes my measurements. I'm not too concerned with these numbers since I anticipate them moving in the directions that indicate I'm getting fitter.

The workout wasn't awful. It certainly wasn't any worse than his Sunday classes at church and not as intense as Kettle Bell or Kick Boxing. I suspect he was going a little easy on me. Don't get me wrong, I was huffing and puffing and sweating, and my muscles certainly fatigued.

 I like having the one-on-one attention, and I was thrilled that he complimented my form.
Afterwards we talked about his pricing. I don't know what's high or low, but he's giving me a break, and considering how much we paid for dance, gymnastic, art, and music lessons, I'm sure we can swing this.

Then I ask him how much I should be working out thinking he'll say aerobics two times a week. No... he says and hour each day or 10,000 steps. Yes I know that I will see results. There is no doubt in my mind that I'll see results. Is this what I signed up for? Apparently yes. Can I find an hour each day to work out? Sadly yes. It will replace the hour I spend sitting around waiting for someone to notice me or something to happen. I'll make it happen.

Food Envy

I'm sitting at a local bagel joint enjoying my coffee - black, the highest priced fruit cup the establishment can dare charge for, and see a woman walk in. You know the type. Blonde pony tail peeking out from under a baseball cap. Shapely, tanned legs soaring out of her gym shoes and into her little exercise skirt. Her arms are toned and her tank top fits perfectly; the only bumps are perky and right where they belong. What does she order? A bagel with a big, oozy shmear of cream cheese, juice, and adds extra sugar and cream to her coffee.

Is this the only meal that she eats all day? Is she bulimic? Does she actually use those tennies to run or play tennis?

Oh, cute, perky blonde lady. I really want to sneer at your schmear. I want to find a varicose vein or see an unruly child, so I can count my blessings or feel that your life isn't as perfect as it seems.

Today I'm facing a toxic attitude about food. I woke up and, because we're out of milk, I was paralysed. No cereal, no toast, it didn't matter. For lunch, even if I had money and time, I still wouldn't go out and get lunch. I want it brought to me with someone else thinking, planning, preparing and presenting. Luckily enough, there are leftovers from last night that I can grab. I had a plan for dinner and knew that I wouldn't want to make it when I come home from work. Luckily enough, I made a pasta salad that we can have tonight. Low-cal? No, but it's a better choice than ordering out Chinese or pizza which is what I'm likely to do if this attitude continues. I might not be making the best choices, but at least I have a plan.

My Journey Begins

Where to start? I got an e-mail yesterday from a fitness trainer who has been coming to my church and leading workouts. He offered me 4 free personal training sessions, and I'm taking him up on it. His name is Patrick and that's where this begins.

There are lots of beginnings here. There is my decision to join the fitness group at church. It was a convenient time, and I needed a different way to relate to the women of my church. I usually carefully select things where I can feel competent and in charge. I knew that this group would leave me feeling vulnerable, but I was willing to risk it. That is where I met Patrick. He and his equally fit, young, and upbeat wife put us through our paces.

I don't know much about him. He works at Motorola's Arlington Hts facility as a fitness trainer and he does personal training. He was in the army. He lives in Crystal Lake. I plan to get to know him a bit better. What I like about him is his warmth and, unlike gym teachers, he doesn't seem to have a mean or masochistic attitude.

Another beginning is my relationship with Jonathan, my husband. Last fall, Jonathan just woke up one day and decided to change his lifestyle. He started exercising and changing his eating habits. To date, he is 70 pounds lighter and running and biking on a regular basis. He must have been chewing on this for quite some time, because in 24 years, I have never seen this type of change in him. I have been through a legion of emotions over this and I might explore this in a later blog, but right now I believe if I want to save my marriage (and I do) I must find a way to relate to him, and piggyback on his success to create mine as well. I began to take my eating more seriously and have been getting back into exercise.

My daughter Leona started using My Fitness Pal to track food and exercise, so Jonathan started using that too and I followed. I know from previous weight loss success that keeping track of what I eat is important. I have used Deal A Meal, Weight Watcher's Points, and a simple notebook. They all work on the same principle: if you are aware of what you are eating, and are held accountable for it, you are in a better position to make changes. The website and app are simple to use. While I like Weight Watcher's Points, they don't have an app for my Blackberry and one has to be a member. My Fitness Pal is free.

Yes, I am beginning to exercise, but I will need to change my attitude. I really would rather sit, write, read, knit, etc. I'll get there. A few years ago I bought a membership to the fitness center in the town where I work. I didn't just buy the minimum, I don't want any excuses, so I went for the Platinum. I can swim, take classes, work in the woman's only area, walk the track, use the climbing wall (well Faith can, and now that Jonathan's so stinking skinny, maybe he'll give it a go too). At first I went on a regular basis then, as it does, my schedule changed and so did my determination to continue to work out. This summer, it looked as if I would not have much work, so I decided to make better use of my time (and that membership) and get back into the swing. Literally - that's one of the things that you do with a kettlebell. I was enjoying kettlebell and yoga. then my schedule changed and I had hand surgery. What did I do? At first, nothing. But remember, I have some choices and I am choosing to loose weight. So I decided to walk. More about that later. I have figured out an alternative schedule once my hand is functional and we'll chat more about that too.

I suppose much of this isn't about beginnings but re-visiting old habits and welcoming them back. I must credit God for stirring things up. Church >Class>Patrick>Training. I'll need to visit this topic later too, but I want to be open to God's voice and desire for me to take care of the body he gave me, and I figure there are too many things pointing me in this direction to ignore and not believe that God has something planned for me.