Well.

Hail, day!

Hail, sons of day!

And night and her daughter now!

Look on us here

with loving eyes,

That waiting we victory win.

-

Hail to the gods!

Ye goddesses, hail,

And all the generous earth!

Give to us wisdom

and goodly speech,

And healing hands, life-long. --Sigrdrifa's Prayer

Much has happened since last I posted. A good deal. I fell off the fitness wagon--and it's my own fault, because I was inattentive. I've gotten back on the horse and rededicated myself to my old oath, which task has been made easier now by one person:

My husband.

This past week he got the results of his latest round of labs back, and the news was not at all good. Our doctor had a long conversation with him (and then with me) and told him that he had to make changes to his lifestyle and eating habits if he wanted to avoid a heart attack and diabetes. He had to drop the pop (for my friends in the South, that'd be sodas), stop treating peanut-butter M&Ms as a food group, and start exercising. In other words, he needed to start listening to me or he'd wind up six feet under and pushing up petunias sooner rather than later.

So now I'm trying to educate him about what is good to eat--at least, from things he is willing to eat--and I'm trying to see if I can tweak some old classics to be more agreeable to his health and mine. For example, pot roast. He and I both love it, and I do try to go with lean cuts to make it so that the fat content isn't egregious but still enough to give some flavour to the meat.

I've also been trying to perfect a spice rub made with ground ginger, cinnamon, dry mustard, and Montreal Steak seasoning. Hubby seems to like it, and the salt content isn't egregious because the Montreal Steak seasoning has salt in it (and I only use a tablespoon of it if that in the rub). Of course, my definition of "egregious" is a tad lower than what most doctors would consider "egregious"--but that's an old habit from when I lived in North Dakota. My hometown was getting its water (at the time) from wells that were, for lack of a better description, going through salt deposits. So the sodium content of the local was the highest of any town in the state, and the town's residents had the highest rates of hypertension in the state too. Gee, wonder why?  They get their water from the lake now, and the salt content is way low as a result--but I still tend to under-salt (or not even salt) food, out of habit.

Aside from the food changes for him, I've also convinced him to go to the gym with me--even if he doesn't walk very long before his asthma decides to give him trouble, he'll at least be walking and he'll get his gym membership on the cheap because of a promotion they're having right now where I can refer a friend or relative and they get a great deal. We'll be going later today, after he gets home from work.

Moving right along. My weight's hovering at around 400ish now (I say "ish" because it ranges from 395 to 405 from week to week), which makes my total weight loss since January around 50 pounds. Go me, go me. At work they've started a "Fall Into Fitness" event...and I am apparently the only person who cared enough to sign up for it. Which is very sad, if you ask me. I even sent out a challenge to my teammates, where all interested parties put $30 in the pot. Whoever beats my weight loss at the end of the promotion wins the money. If I win, the money goes to the American Diabetes Association. Nobody cared to respond. I was saddened by it, to be quite honest.

But we'll see. Perhaps when I get to work Friday (after my four-day weekend), I'll be pleasantly surprised. I hope.

And in a month, I'll be going out to the Bay Area to see the Hurricanes take on the Sharks in San Jose and hang out with several friends that I have there (including a few heathens--hail the folk!) It'll be a grand adventure, and I'm gearing up for some serious walking around and picture taking and possibly some video too. I'm really looking forward to it.

Tip The Scales

I have a bunch of thoughts swirling around in my head, trying to coalesce into something resembling a blog post. So if this sounds a little disjointed, I apologize in advance.

First things first: I'm holding steady at 410, which is good. Not great, but it means that I haven't gained back everything that I've lost since January. I finally have a scale, which is good because it means that I can weigh myself weekly rather than waiting for the next doctor's appointment and hoping that their scale will have a high enough capacity. The walking has been off--I've been trying, but not very hard, and that is my fail. Genghis still won't take me to the gym, which bugs the piss out of me because I WANT to hit the treadmill and the bikes. When the most exercise I get is twice a week when I go to the physical terrorist, combined with walking around the call center whenever I get a chance and my housework, there's a problem. I'm not progressing like I want to be, which bothers me greatly. But we'll see--when I get a car, whenever that will be, things will change.

Moving on: I did up a budget to track my spending, and realized how frelling much I was spending dining out--the cafeteria at work, forays to Subway et al, and other random bullshit. It wigged me out. So now I've been putting everything on lockdown and I'm breaking out the cookbooks to formulate grocery lists so I can do all my cooking at home.

If Genghis wants to go to McD's and wherever, let him.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to have a sleep study done. It was quite the adventure. Whenever I can figure out how to get all the photos up here from my phone, I'll post them. The only bad thing about the study was that after it was done I had all this paste in my hair from the electrodes--I couldn't get it washed out no matter how hard I tried, so I had to wait for it to dry and then comb it out...which took like three days.

This past Thursday, I went to review the results and was told that I need a CPAP machine. Wonderful.  So Tuesday after this coming, I get to go back and have another study done where they'll fit me for a facehugger.

And by facehugger, I do not mean this:

I mean this:

Which is good, because I don't want this:

That would be bad. Very, very bad.

Of course, this is not stopping me from trying to find a prop facehugger to clamp on my grill right after they fit the mask and having the tech take a picture of it to send to all my friends. *grin*

BUT ANYWAY.

I thought I would have more of an update, but I don't. Shame on me.

And now is part where we dance

...because I'm bound and determined to not be mopey.

So. I haven't been to the gym in 2 weeks--not since we turned in the rental car that we had while Genghis' car was in the shop. I asked Genghis once if he would take me to the gym, and the reaction was about what I expected: a no. Because, of course, he only has so much time off from work and he has things he wants to do and he doesn't want to have to ferry me all over half the ferk ding blastin' Triangle.

I've resumed walking around the call center on breaks and at lunch, with occasional forays up to the 3rd floor to visit a friend of mine who works in sales, but it's not the same. I don't feel the same sense of accomplishment from the breaktime meanderings that I feel when I've been on the treadmill for half an hour and the bikes for as long as I can last (i.e. until my legs turn to jello) and so on. The compliments from co-workers are nice. The attaboys are good too. But it's not the same. WANT MOAR FIT PLZ.

So to rectify the situation I'm finally (now that the Department of Edumacation has finally told the Treasury Department to stop taking my tax refunds) sitting down to file my income taxes for the last six-odd years, and I'm going to use the refund money to see if I can't make a down payment on a car. Not some cheap-ass hooptie that'll fall apart, but something decent.

It's all part of the Master Plan.

Weights. I has them.

Friend of mine dropped off a couple 8-pound weights for me at work the other day. I was so happy, I spent all day messing with them between calls--which prompted my co-workers to comment that they think I'm crazy.

Perhaps I am.

Things have been a little eh for me lately otherwise. I've been feeling really tired and run-down, which tells me that my nutrition is jacked. Either that or I'm not getting enough sleep. I'm thinking it may be the lack of sleep. I tried hitting the treadmill Tuesday night, but I just could not focus. Ugh. Yesterday was a rest day, today I dunno. We have a rental car right now cos husband's car is in the shop--and we have to return that. So I might be able to hit the gym after I have my lap-band consult, but it'll be kinda dicey.

I have also discovered that, despite the use of iPod and whatnot, I lose my focus after half an hour (with my luck, I have adult ADD). Thus, the idea for two-a-days...though I suspect that will have to wait for when I get a car of my own, because gods know the husband won't be up for taking me to the gym early in the morning and then after I get off work.

Geteiltes Leid ist Halbes Leid

So the issue with the car is the fuel pump. $480 right there. Combine that with $685 that we had to pay toward something else, and we were in the hurt locker.

Are in the hurt locker. Something like that.

Anyway. Labs came back from the endo--everything is good there. Hail Eir.

On the gym front...eh. Yesterday was a failday for me. I was shooting for 30 minutes on the treadmill at a brisk walking pace, but only lasted 15 before everything started to cramp up and I had to quit or go flying off the damn thing. I was so pissed. I went and showered, and then sat there looking at myself in the mirror before I got dressed--and that just pissed me off even more. And I didn't have anyone to vent to. My best friend has gone radio-silent (he's a busy boy), Mom didn't answer the phone, and my sister...well, yeah. I effectively don't have a sister anymore. And don't get me started on Genghis. I get home and he immediately jumped ugly on me for not answering my phone...mostly cos I had left it in the car. I checked my phone and there were like ten calls from him and a voicemail.

"I thought you were injured or damaged!"  No asshat, that happened 17 years ago.

I'm just feeling a lot of burning resentment right now--toward Genghis, toward myself, toward a lot of things. Mostly toward myself. I made decisions that weren't in my best interest, and now I just have that much more work to do to try to fix or salvage what little I can. Oh well.

I've committed myself to a course of action, for once I may as well stick to it and fulfill an oath I swore on the high plains years ago (and which the other party has likely forgotten, even if I haven't). It's the least I can do right?

Leid und Elend

So today was trying. I joined the Planet Fitness near my apartment on Sunday--what the heck, right?  I've been going daily, either before or after work, and hitting the treadmill there. It's easier than walking outside, for some reason. Probably because indoors I don't have to worry about getting pasted by a car.

Anyway. This morning, I decided to hit one of the bikes instead of doing the treadmill. Oh yeah, that was a great idea. Two minutes in, the insides of my thighs started to give me issues. And we're not talking "feel the burn", either. We're talking "OMFG WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO US LADY?!" here. After another eight minutes I couldn't take it anymore and was all "well shit, there went that plan". I migrated to a treadmill. Figured I would do at least 30-35 minutes there, and I would be good.

My back had other ideas. About 5 minutes in, it started to seize up. I pressed on, taking a 30-second pause to try to stretch it back out. That bought me another 15 minutes before the pain became unbearable and I had to stop. Broken back ftl. I showered in tears and left. As I came meandering out of the locker room, some dude was there jamming on the treadclimber nearest the front--and when I say "jamming on", I mean he was seriously going at like warp speed. He shot me a disgusted look before going back to his "look at me, I can do warp speed on a treadclimber for an hour at a time" routine. I just rolled my eyes at him and left, wishing I could just have a new spinal column and wondering why, for once, I can't just have SOMETHING be easy.


Tomorrow is another day.