Fitness Tuesday: Another Bust?

Two weeks have gone by and I've done very little exercising or watching what I eat.  When I got back from vacation I weight 207.5 pounds.  My heaviest has been 213 and I didn't feel as gross as I feel now.  I've started drinking more water and with my treadmill broken have started riding my bike again.  It's a totally different set of muscles.  I didn't realize it when I was doing the running/riding and weight training.  Now that it's been a good two weeks or so since I've done anything with running, my muscle groups feel tired and fatigued even after a short ride.  I've got to re-toughen up my sit bone area as well.  Seems like the older I get, the faster it goes.  Aargh.

I watched an episode of Extreme Makeover.  The one where he spends a year encouraging the person to exercise and eat right.  That was motivating.  I also saw this lady online that lost 200 plus pounds by just eating right and getting out and moving.  That was more motivating because I know some guy coming to my door to adopt me for a year is not going to happen.

It's back on the bicycle tonight and salmon, rice and a veggie for dinner.  We'll see about my "Extreme Makeover".

Back to School: "Basic" Applied Calculus--"I learned it from YouTube"

This is a tough class.  There is nothing basic about it.  I have been consistently behind for the last four days and as usual, there is only 10 days left in the class.  I'm going to try to stay up late tonight and do some work, but I've been having a tough time staying awake late into the wee hours of the morning like I have in the past.  It just messes me up.  I guess that's one of those ways to know I'm no spring chicken.

For the class, I'm in the middle of velocity.  It's not even really the middle.  I'm behind, so I've just started reading the chapter and looking at the videos.  I tell you, YouTube has been a life saver for almost all these math classes.  I have been able to find something for all of them.  I have found the most help from PatrickJMT.  His explanations are a little more down to earth than the teacher/professor format.  The MIT ones.  Holy smokes, I don't see how those kids get anything out of that nonsense.  All that writing and babbling.  No body asks questions.  They're either super super smart (yes) or they do a lot of self study and tutoring.  Those professors are making a decent chunk of change to go on and on about the same thing year after year . . . but then I think they are there to do research and stuff.  The lectures are one of those necessary evils so they can keep their spot at the school and fulfill their own personal agenda.  A least that's what I think.  I don't know that for sure.

Back To School: Basic Applied Calculus

I haven't written a back to school entry in about two months.  That C++ class was pretty traumatic.  I'm two weeks into what is being called Basic Applied Calculus.  To me, it's like a purgatory between Pre-Calculus, Statistics and Calculus I.

I wasn't supposed to need any more maths.  I was supposed to be done, but my Academic Advisor informed me I needed this particular class as a pre-req.  That's not how I understood it when I decided to drop Calculus I at the community college.  If I'd know this class was waiting just around the corner for me, I think I would have kept the one at the community college.

So far it's going OK.  I've made two 100s but they don't seem earned.  The concepts were nothing more than a freakish blend of College Algebra, Pre-Calculus and Elementary Statistics.  This week was a little tougher.  The first assignment I turned in kind of knowing it probably wasn't right, I just didn't know what else to do.  Well, turns out it wasn't even close to what the isntructor wanted.

That has been one of my biggest problems from day one.  Figuring out what the instructor wants and customizing it to the assignment.  In this class, sometimes we can make up our own statistics and sometimes we can't.  Sometimes they don't want an actual answer and sometimes there's a number out there we're just supposed to know.  It's frustrating, but I'll figure it out.

Fitness: My Treadmill Died

I was running a great run.  Yes, I was actually running at 6 mph for a minute with the 90 minute brisk walk interval.  I had just broken a sweat and the thing quit.  I mean it just quit.  It quit so fast if I'd lost my balance I would have run into the control panel.

This is the third treadmill I've bought used and "burned" up.  I actually lubricated this one the best I could.  Without the owners manual I wasn't positive how to do it, but I bought lubricant and sprayed everyting I could find that moved.  I sprayed under the deck the best I could.  I know that ultimately the belt is supposed to come to do it right, but again, without an owner's manual I couldn't be sure how to take it apart and then I wasn't sure I could get it back together.

I don't mind telling you that today I looked at it folded up in the hall ready to go to the trash and I cried.  Like a baby.  I cried not so much because the treadmill was broken, I cried because I'm tired of being just a little over weight, but not tired enough to really do something about it.

There was a time I did a form of the Atkins diet.  I at no bread, no soda, no pasta, no potatoes or rice for a few months and the weight seemed to fall off.  I lost 35 pounds and was down to a size 12.  I shopped for a new concert dress that year and bought a SIZE 12.  I hadn't been a size 12 since before my son was born.  I bought some really cute clothes.  Some little size 14 cargo shorts and cute little short sleeved shirts.  With belts that had funky rivets on them. 

Today, at 205.4, my excuse of being bloated from my period isn't any more than an excuse.  We're so broke right now, any effort on my behalf to save money--like not taking the truck to the lake with my bike--is needed.  The healthy foods, vitamins and lifestyle has gone on the pile as one of the things we can do to save money.

People will say that it doesn't cost anything extra to eat right and get a little exercise.  It does.  When eating right and getting a little exercise works, but not enough, it takes a little more.  It takes healthier and safer choices.  I live in an area surrounded by orange groves and long unpopulated stretches of road.  I just don't feel safe anymore.

I wish I could sit here at my computer and tell you I'm in the pits and will feel better tomorrow, but this has been with me for a while.  A boiling trouble below the surface.  I think the treadmilll breaking and the gaining of something like 8 pounds in the last two months has taken its toll.  I feel fat, I feel ugly and feel llike I don't have a good choice left in the bunch.

I think a little more than just my treadmill died on Sunday.

Never On Sunday: What Is He Thinking

I just read a facbook entry from a friend that claims to be "blessed".  Statements like this interest me.  Like when people say they heard God's voice tell them what they should do or felt the "Holy Spirit" nudge them.  I'm certain within a few percentage points that I've never actually heard God'v voice despite a phase I went through of wanting to hear it pretty bad.  The nudging of the Holy Spirit seems to be more of a nuance than a feeling, so it's quite possible in all my busyness that had the Holy Spirit actually nudge me, I probably didn't recognize it as any more than my inner self.

Now this is not to say that this sort of thing doesn't happen.  It's just never happened to me.  Two of my favorite people on TV, Ken and Gloria Copeland claim both of these things.  Why not?  They've centered their lives around such things.  I'll admit, I'm pretty shamelessly jealous of anyone that claims to have heard or felt any member of the Holy Trinity.  Anyone who has opening prayed in the grocery store or has prayed a child's prayer for a boat and got one ranks up pretty high on my list.

So I return to my facebook friend that is "blessed".  Last night his blessing came in the form of having a son he enjoyed spending time with.  Then of course I wonder if he'd had a son he didn't enjoy spending time with, what would that mean?  Would he have stepped over into the "unblessed" by God crowd?  I don't know.  I'm just sayin'.

This same man has claimed "blessings" on multiple occasions.  A lovely wife, a beautiful home.  A job.  Hmmm.  I also listened to a pastor who claimed to regularly hear God's voice in his study.  A pastor's study is a magical place.  Many things happen there that don't happen too many other places.  This man claims to receive direction on what topics to preach about.  Some undesignated member of the Trinity has contacted him and helped him choose a sermon.

I've prayed longingly for that kind of direction.  I've cried on my face concerning many things.  I've sobbed prostrate on the carpet at the foot of the alter of my church wanting to hear God's voice tell me just one thing.  I laid there on my face for quite some time after the tears would no longer flow and a long string of mucous had made its way to the floor.  Unhappiness and discontentment being the only things directing me.  I didn't hear the voice, but I made the decision I'd hoped He would want at least some input.  Apparently he didn't want input that bad.   I got up, walked away from the one place on this planet I was pretty sure God would be willing to reveal himself.  I quit the job at the church and have drifted fairly aimlessly since.

I can't tell you the jealous rage I have feltt at other's claims to God's wonders.  The blessings, the miracles, the joy and filling.  The Holy Spirit was sent for all of us.  Not to just "nudge" a chosen few that fit some impressive criteria.  I've been promised a comforter.  I've been promised a provider.  I can't seem to tune in to these things no matter how still I sit, how much I cry or how many nights I repeat the same prayer over and over again.

I will interject this.  I've changed.  I've stopped waiting around for God to fulfill some grocery list of needs.  I've stopped waiting for family members to meet my wants and desires.  They aren't going to and  God doesn't appear to be in the business of checking lists.  At the risk of saying something offensive to a reader or even worse, to God.  I'm not sure I know what God is thinking or wants.  I haven't experienced any of those things that others claiming to walk side by side with God have experienced.

You know, there's a possibility that all these sensations, leadings and voices are not from any member of the heavenly sect.  There's even a stronger possibility that there are no angels or demons watching our every mood.  That God is not fretting over us the way we'd like to think he is.  That he doesn't care where we park, what we eat or who we marry.  I can't imagine what it must be like to be the God we've created in our minds and an even bigger statement would be I can't imagine ever claiming to know what he's thinking.

Mental Messages: That Bloated Feeling

This morning I weighed a disappointing 205.4 pounds.  The only reason I'm not any more than disappointed is I think it will go back down.  I take an anti-inflammatory for asundry reproductive organ issues about 24 - 48 hours before I start my period and strive to get a good dosage coursing through my veins by the time the pain hits.  It bloats me so much I can feel it in my eyes, hands and feet.  Worse yet to my psyche, I can see it in the mirror.  My face fills up like a gourd.  My skin tightens.  It's pretty traumatic. 

The weight gain normally amounts to  five to seven pounds.  I try to keep it in perspective when I get on the scale and see it creeping up in the days and hours before it gets here, but it's tough every time.  This time, with school and the stress of other family issues looming over my head, it was especially rough on my ego to see the 205.4 flash below me.  I've kept a constant glass of water by side and ate fresh ice cold watermelon today that was really a nice treat. 

It will pass and I will soon be back to my self again.  Feeling strong of mind, body and spirit, but for now it's a battle not to just curl up in the fetal position under the covers.

Mental Messages: Your Fur Smells Like Sour Spaghetti--Musing About Pets

There's a blog that comes up just about every time I click on next blog.  I wouldn't want to embarass the writer.  I'm sure the entry was written with great excitement and love.  Warm fuzzies on overload.  The top entry is a few weeks old, but features a photo of what I believe to be a poodle of some variety eating what I believe to be birthday cake.  I've never read the article.  My gag reflexes are too strong.

I always assume it's the dog's birthday.  I give the owner credence for not feeding it at the table or counter.

So here's this photo of a dog eating birthday cake.  Innocent enough.  Not for me.   Of the five senses, my sense of smell is probably my second top feature.  Number one being my ears, but that's for another day.  I digress.  This photo of a dog eating his/her cake stimulates an odor memory.  My mother's three little dogs used to smell like sour spaghetti.  Hopefully you're asking me why the dogs periodically smelled like sour spaghetti.

These little dogs were of the long hair variety.  Pekingese, with flat little faces, bulging eyes and grunting snorting little mouths.  I don't remember caring too much for them.  I liked to call them and hear them race down the hallway to my room.  With some speed and accuracy, they could make the top of the bed without breaking too much stride.

When mealtimes were over, my mother would put down plates for them to lick.  I never thought much of this.  It was a way of life.  The dogs licked the plates after dinner.

On a side note, I remember one afternoon when I was in my twenties and visiting my husband at work.  I grabbed a pot out of the kitchen at his work and used it water my dog.  He'd been waiting in the car under a tree, but he was still thirsty.  Some lady there came unglued.  I thought she was being a witch.  In my confident twenties I ignored her.  Looking back, I think she was right.  Although soap and hot water kills pretty much anything, dogs lick their butts and that's gross.  I'll give her that one.

Back to the spaghetti.  On night we had spaghetti--which seems like an awful lot--the dogs would get to lick the spaghetti plates clean.  However, on these nights, their fur would go rancid or something because the odor was overwhelming.  I told my mom not to feed them the spaghetti.  It made their fur around their faces smell.  She looked at my like I had two noses.  I tried to wipe them clean with a washcloth.

Now that's gross.

I added soap.  Nothing seemed to take that smell away.  I hated it.  I'm sure there are a lot of other reasons why I don't like my cats on the counter, or let them eat human food.  For some reason seeing this little dog eating birthday cake over and over again sends my nose into the olfactory stratosphere.

As of my last visit, my parents still give their annoying dog human "type" food.  Two eggs.  That goofy dog gets two eggs most days.  They buy Sam's Choice dog food she can poop out all over the yard because it's full of corn.  Then they give her an egg or two every day.  That means every 12 days they are spending a couple bucks on eggs for this dog.  That's a little over 30 DOZEN eggs for those doing the math.  That's about $75 dollars a year on eggs--for a dog--even if the eggs are cheap.

My counter argument would be to skip the egg, spend the $10 more a month on some decent food.  That will probably slim her down and keep her from pooping 100 times a day.  They don't go for it.  The egg seems to help her--the dog--in some way that only they--my parents--are aware of.