Fifteen miles.
That's how much I got in last week. It helps my brain pull back from the drama I've created within and realize I'm being silly. Endorphins are better than sugar.
Why? Because they don't leave my brain bottoming out and a life left to handle.
So, it's obvious my cardio has been good. Strength training? Not doing it yet. Food?
Food?
Oh, you can't hear that maniacal laughter? That's just in my head, huh?
Yeah. I feel like my relationship with food is improving. I'm being real. About what I want, what I need, and what I'm doing. I'm realizing that I have disordered eating patterns that are either too rigid to maintain or too unhealthy to maintain.
I'm finding my fledgling way.
In other words, I have a long long way to go. My portions are off. I'm not really dialing in to my bodies' needs either. I'm dialing into some emotional eating drama from my past.
All those miles I'm getting in have to be helping, but I seem to be gaining weight. I'm not going to banter around numbers. Partly because I feel guilty. I've got to be honest.
But also? I'm a full eight inches taller than the average American female. That puts me at 32 to 46 pounds heavier at a healthy weight. That's not really fair to people reading along. If they see pics of me on my facebook page and I'm declaring I still need to lose twenty or thirty pounds...that's not good for the collective psyche.
Because twenty pounds on me could be five pounds on the average 5' 3" woman. Every inch means another 4-6 pounds of healthy, heavy bones and muscles. See what I mean? I'm not just assuaging my own guilt. So, I'm not going to declare my stats. I find it healthier for me.
But also, I'm trying to do something very difficult for me. I'm trying to resolve issues with my emotions. I'm not processing them, and my life has been difficult lately.
Very Very difficult. For some reason, my life has not gotten easier. I would say it's the state I live in, since I've had psychosis, Rett diagnosis, and regressions/job loss all in this state. But, it could just be me.
Even if it is just me, I'm not really set up for a life of ease anyway. Rett Syndrome doesn't pull punches. Neither does bipolar NOS. I'm pretty sure that a lot of people out there also have the same sort of problem in life. Stress keeps on knocking.
I'm not a count calories kind of a gal. I'm more of a behaviorial scientist person. I'm a process what's wrong person. I deal with my issues head on, so they hopefully don't come back.
And when [not if] one of them does come back?
I'll be ready.
You ready? Wanna train for a 10K with me before the doggy comes home? Working on emotions? Talk to me lovelies!
Thank you for donating for Chickadee's service dog.
Emotions are just tough. Really tough. They bit me in the ass yesterday.
ReplyDeleteI hope you have a good day.
It's just great that you are discovering what you are NOT because it's obvious that it's helping you to be what you ARE. That's a very good thing.
ReplyDeleteI am one of those short ones, below average. 5 pounds on me is a full clothing size!
ReplyDeleteAgree with Helen. That is a good thing. And so is all that cardio. Look at the miles you are doing. Wow! Go you girl!!!! That's awesome.
ReplyDeleteHang in there JBS. You're doing good ...
L
Sometimes when I feel like I'm just rattling from stress, I do something smart like I did today. Which is get my fat butt on the elliptical. Helps.
ReplyDeleteDoes the the doggy have a due date? As for your "dialing in to my bodies'" remark, I thought you said "dialing into your boobies" and I'm like, can't your husband help you with that?
ReplyDelete