Thursday, June 28, 2012

On the Upslide

This morning as I got to work, I saw a lady who taught me a valuable lesson without saying a word to me.  I work in a health clinic, and being that I work in the lowest level, I only have ten stairs to climb to get to my floor.  In total there are 4 floors, with 50 stairs total.  I don't judge anyone for taking the elvator, because I don't know anyone's story. The lady, as she stood waiting for the elevator to open, didn't say hello or look at me as I made my way toward the stairs, but by a quick glance, it looked like she was uncomfortable somewhere in her lower body.  Her back was arched in such a way that it seemed she was trying to take the weight off her knees or hips (or quads?) and her midwestern-typical belly protruded considerably.  When the elevator opened and she got in, she hid way in a back corner, made a split second of eye contact with me, and then quickly turned her head floorward in shame.  She looked so sad.  I am guessing she is in her late-50's.  I had a really sinking feeling, watching her disappear behind heavy metal doors that would deliver her to an unknown floor.  I don't know her story, there are a whole heap of people who work here that I've never met.  And I don't judge.  She could have some horrible affliction.  And maybe she thinks it's too late to change anything.  And maybe it is too late.  I won't speculate on her situation, but I could tell she was ashamed and she looked miserable.  I felt like if she could muster up the courage, her message to me would be, take care of your health now, before it's too late.  And even if that wouldn't be her message, that is what I took away from my thirty seconds I spent in her presence this morning.  Everyone has the chance to feel better, and everyone deserves it.  I will be 51 by the time my youngest graduates high school, I don't want to be so stiff/sore/fat/ that I can't keep up with him.  My boys are already so active and physical, I want to encourage them to stay active, but if my body's too worn-out to lead by example, I will feel like a hypocrite.  HIPPOcrite, rather.
I have been on-track with my diet all week, despite many temptations and a few incidences of having to think on my feet.  Yesterday a sales rep brought in a catered lunch, subs from one of my favorite shops, but everything was on blasted white buns.  Don't get me wrong, they taste devine, and they are one of my favorite things to eat.  It really took a strong resolve for me to pass them up.  I opted for two pickle spears and a bottle of water to accompany my lean, grilled turkey burger and cucumber that I'd prepared for my lunch.  I felt really proud of myself.  Then last night after dinner I had an intense urge to eat more.  This nasty sensation seems to creep up for me on Wednesdays whenever I'm eating clean, there must be a biological reason.  At any rate, I ate an apple for dessert, to try and calm the urge to cram food into me.  It helped for a bit, but the feeling returned.  I tried to fight it with mental power for a while, before I came up with a fool-proof solution, a minty-sweet (sugar-free of course) peice of gum.  Doesn't sound too thrilling, but it worked like a charm.  I chewed it until my bedtime, and I didn't even think about food while I was chewing it.  Chalk one up for the fat lady!  It's having the persistence to keep trying little tricks that will get us all the way to the place we need to be.  Just keep swimming, just keep swimming!
Happy Thursday readers!  Hope you are reaching your goals one triumph at a time!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Same Same, but Different

When I was in Thailand for an eyesight mission, we went to several different areas with street vendors.  Tables upon tables of display of affordable trinkets for prices I'm ashamed to admit we bargained even lower.  Over and over we would hear the cry, "Same same!" from the next table, someone selling the same thing for equal or lower price.  On our last day there, one of our team members found a shirt that said "Same same" on the front, and on the back, "but different".  It is a phrase I use a lot, even though some people have no idea what I'm referring to.  The idea came back to me this morning as I read a blog post from one of those infrequent bloggers I bump into from time to time.  Here are some thoughts it provoked.
I am a picky person.  I like to think I am graceful and tactful, but some things I just can't be bothered with.  I feel it's my right, as a self-proclaimed rebel, to reject and share my opinions about these things.  This morning I bumped into one of the very things that gets under my skin a little.  A weight loss blogger who claims to've always LOVED exercise and activity, and still does.  Not that I'm disputing that, maybe this person was an all-star athlete in their younger years, and maybe they fell on tough times.  I get that, I used to be way more active in my younger days.  But what makes it difficult for me to follow these types is that I cannot relate.  I am not the cheery, I-love-to-workout type.  I don't love it.  I never have.  Even in high school, if someone wanted to get together with me, it was always like, yes, let's bring our notebooks to a cafe and people-watch and write our careful observations.  I'll be Hemingway and you be F.Scott Fitzgerald, and just for fun we'll call the Coffe-rama "le Cafe".  No mountain climbing or cross country track and field for me.  I hated gym class and would often fake period cramps or nausea to get out of it.  I workout because I know I have to in order to see results and keep my ticker pumping out the life-juice.  Don't get me wrong, when I'm doing it, it usually feels good, and makes me feel like I'm doing the 'right' thing (sorry Spike Lee), but I don't generally proclaim to love exerting myself.  I like the results.  Or, more accurately, I like to dream about what results consistency would bring. 
That being the case, I have a hard time feeling bad for people who claim to love exercise.  Their proclaimation may be the post-workout glow, or the emotional crush on the act of moving, or it might be absolutely true.  Some people are wired that way, and I am envious of them.  But then, why are those people having weight issues?  I used to be so resentful of skinny little wenches who'd whine that they were "fat" in my presence.   In my younger years, before I learned the art of tact,  I abused those people with my abrasive opinions.  I resented them for never having to struggle like I did.  I was drowning in apathy and they were going to hear about it.  As I've matured I've come to see things from others' point of view.  No matter if you have five pounds to lose or 100, being unhappy with your body feels shameful and hurtful, it makes you feel like you are 'wrong'.  In this life, I have wasted a lot of time idealizing others' lives, or my warped perception of them.  Look at that family, so fit, so financially secure, they probably have a big beautiful house, great jobs and spend weekends on Martha's Vineyard.  That is how fit people live.  Everything is cut and perfect for them.  I know better now.  albeit oversimplified, life truly is what you make it.  Nothing in life simply "just happens", no matter what you look like.  And perception is often wrong.  A lot of people with big houses do take nice vacations, but have oodles of debt hanging over their heads.  And many of them are in unhappy relationships.  And some people who look a little rough on the outside are the warmest ones inside.  Sometimes its the struggle that actually makes you stronger.  And sometimes, that struggle happens to people who love to workout and be active, and only have five pounds to lose. 
There are a plethora of weight loss blogs out there these days, and so many of them are more inspirational and more elloquently written than mine.  I appreciate you taking the time to check out my blog.  It really does mean a lot to me.
Happy Wednesday, hope it's a great one!

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Eye Candy on Tuesday?

Between a roaring metabolism and too much caffeine, last night's sleep left much to be desired.  But still I got up at 4:50am and laced up my shoes.  I probably should have done an upper body workout instead, but my entire lower body is still sore from Sunday's workout, and I didn't want my entire body to be sore the rest of the week.  I am working on stretching out my legs to help with the soreness/stiffness.  At any rate, I did some interval cardio this morning, walking at easy/moderate intervals.  There are times when I have difficulty walking slower, so as to benefit from the fat burn, because the music really amps me up.  I guess if I put more effort and thought into it, I would have different playlists for different intensity levels.  Might be a weekend project.
It was chilly this morning, for June, I could actually see my breath and needed a sweatshirt to be comfortable.  The sky is such an awesome color of purple that time of morning, unfortunately it doesn't translate well on photo, so you'll have to take my word for it.  As I was walking, in my husband's bulky sweatshirt, my eyes baggy and swollen, hair pulled back in a headband, I was woken from my zombie-like state by a car passing.  The man driving looked me up and down and smiled really wide like I was giving him some sort of eye candy.  It's been a while since I've gotten that reaction.  I took a quick survey of the way I perceived myself to look and laughed out loud and thought, this is what turns you on, ese? (he was Mexican).  Mexican men have always been among the only ones to find me attractive.  Must be a cultural thing, due to my healthy birthing hips.  It did make me smile as I considered the absurdity.  Then, near the end of my walk, he drove past for another look.  This time his entire head was turned the way you see guys do in movies, right before they crash their car.  Again, I laughed out loud.  This oversized sweatshirt hanging nearly to my knees, left everything to the imagination, what could this guy be checking out about me?  Maybe he likes my fancy new iPhone cover?  Maybe my glasses-strangers sometimes stop me to ask where I got them.  I just laughed it off and finished my walk strong.  And I was nice and awake.  Until I got to work.  Repeat cycle, consume copius amounts of caffeine.  Will stop before 2pm this time.  I truly do enjoy sleep, and that weight workout can't be put off forever!
Looking forward to a posible date night with my husband this weekend.  He is suggesting sushi.  Just one of the reasons I fell in love with him. :)
Oh, and because he looks like this:
That's my husband, Garrett in a shoot he did with photographer Mark Jenkins in San Francisco last month.  Now that's some real eye candy!
Happy Tuesday, and welcome to my new readers/members!

Monday, June 25, 2012


Monday is usually a day that has me feeling quite positive.  It is a fresh start, a chance to put the weekend and all her dark secrets behind me and get back to the serious business at hand.  But today I am not feeling my normal, Monday-makes-me-feel-good self. 
It started with my new alarm app not working this morning.  I only downloaded it because the absurd iPhone doesn't allow you to set your alarm to your songs from your iTunes library.  Hmmph!  It's probably just as well, my older son had so much trouble sleeping last night, that my own sleep was very interrupted.  I woke in time to get ready without rushing, and definitely put that extra sleep to good use, considering I did a killer leg workout yesterday.  Between the 5K training and the bum knee (caused by running), it has been months since I've trained legs.  The burn felt good, but I could tell how weak the muscles have gotten.  Atrophy is evil! 
I spent a good deal of time cleaning/moving furniture in my apartment this weekend.  For some reason, I find it hard to turn my focus inward, when my environment is in such disarray.  And I'm not one of those people who calls my place messy because there is a stack of mail on the counter top or a few dishes in the sink, my situation was more like, please don't let the neighbors call the hoarders hotline on me!  So, a new, cozier space is now in place, despite my kids' best efforts to mess it all back up, and it feels like I can breathe easier and focus more attention on my internal beasts that need to be relocated. 
I feel like I did really well with food this weekend.  I didn't see much of my husband, as he was forced to work all weekend, and had a photo shoot after work yesterday.  Because he had a shoot this weekend, and it was shirtless, he didn't have a cheat meal on Friday, and neither did I.  In fact, the kids and I fell asleep early on Friday and I went to bed without my final snack (low-fat string cheese).  Instead of a full-blown cheat meal, I had a few special treats over the weekend, some watermelon, some french fries and a doughnut.  The rest of what I ate was clean, and I kept myself busy enough to not bother with junk food.  And now that I look back on it I am noticing, my kids didn't bug me for junk either.  Hmmm, maybe my uber-fit husband is the bad influence!  His diet is so strict 98% of the time, that when he does have a cheat meal or two, he really goes all-out.  In fact, eating out is our form of family entertainment!  But he wasn't around much this weekend, so I stuck to a healthier diet than usual.  Hmmm, too soon to say if that was my own willpower taking hold or the lack of his bad influence.  More research needed!
I'm still trying to figure out my protein sources, so many things still make me cringe.  For now, I'm back to lean turkey for turkey burgers or turkey meatballs with whole grain pasta.  I've been giving more thought to the whole inflammation thing, but haven't done enough research into it to consider it an option at this point.  Anyone have any personal experience with an anti-inflammatory diet?  I don't think it's too terribly different than the South Beach, other than the grains, but I don't know anyone who's tried it.  I think, no matter what you believe, that is the thing that works.  I believe South Beach is the bomb, so I believe it blindly.  I have gotten shockingly amazing results from the bloodwork while on SBD, so I stick to it.  It's great for the heart, but I worry about cancer too.  It runs pretty rampant in my family. 
Well itchy sun-alergy rash and gigantic swollen spider bite abound!  The weekend is over and I'm starting the new week on the right foot.  The left one will follow shortly behind I hope.
Have a great start to the new week!

Friday, June 22, 2012

How 'Bout Some Guns?

I have been talking about this ad for some time now, and could never find the photo to share, but now that I have an iPhone, I just took a photo of it.  I feel bad for posting it without permission, but Jamie Eason's physique, and particularily this photo, inspires me so much, and whenever I look at it before or during a workout, I have a really strong mind-muscle connection.  If nothing else, I am advertising for free of charge!
So I have decided that I am going to workout this weekend, and it's going to be good!  I miss that feeling of strong muscles supporting my body.  And it makes me feel good for days after. 
The storms have moved in, and people are rushing about in a hurry.  Me?  It's Friday night and I get done with work in 45 minutes, I plan on hunkering down for a little R & R with my family tonight. 
Happy weekend readers! 

Thursday, June 21, 2012

In Between the Drops

Yesterday was a strange day for me.  Work was fairly busy for most of the day, but when I caught a few moments in between tasks, I read a bit of my old journals from the late 90's.  I am doing it as research for the book I am writing about those days, and I am grateful that I have these things on record to refer back to.  But reading them puts me on an emotional roller coaster.  Most of the entries are about my weight and how miserable I am, a million starts and stops on my way to a healthier me (sounds familiar), and flirting with a million and one guys.  But the entries that especially tax me are the ones I wrote about Tim.  He is the man I spent eight years chasing, we were pretty good friends and there were a million times that one of us almost took a chance, but he tortured my emotions for so long.  In the end, I had just given up on him when I laid eyes on the man who would one day become my husband, and I knew the minute I saw Garrett (my husband) that there was a reason Tim and I didn't belong together and I never craved his attention since. 
What reading those entries did for me yesterday was make me think of where I am now.  The courtship between my husband is so endearing to me, that a million memories flooded me at once, the way I would swoon just from a smile from him, and the way he knew how to use that as a tool.  It reaffirmed for me that I am so incredibly lucky to have him with me every day. 
I was in such a great mood leaving work, I wanted to rush right home and kiss my husband and tell him how happy I am to be with him, but things got a little gooey and plans went astray.  I found myself chasing through horrendous weather and traffic/construction to get to a service provider for a repair, my sweaty, sleepy kids were troopers, but they were so disappointed when we arrived at our destination and the place was closed.  Our spirits were soggy.  So we drowned our troubles in McDonald's.  It was my doing, it was lazy and not intelligent, but it lifted their spirits, and gave us a chance to cool down from the blasted heat.  At any rate, my mind was battling against me all through the night, telling me to just eat what I want, that it is so much easier, then telling me to get back on track. 
This morning as I readied myself for my cardio, I thought of something that should just be common sense by now, but it hit me like a surprise.  I need to start looking at the weekend as just another part of the week, but with one cheat meal, instead of this idea that the week is only five days long, and the rest of the time I am on "diet vacation".  I've said it before, but this was just a new way of looking at it.  The week is seven days long, not four or five. 
A quick look out the window showed me that it was not storming this morning, so I laced up my shoes and hit the pavement.  Sprinkle, sprinkle!  The sprinkles add up over time, but there was no time when I thought that I shouldn't go for my walk just because it was raining.  I put on a hooded sweatshirt, put my iPhone in my pocket and put my face to the sky.  I love a nice summer rain!  And it was a phenomenal workout compared to yesterday's cardio walk, which was riddled with aches and cracks from various joints, the humidity annoying me every step of the way.  But today, I felt so good.  And as the people driving by were looking at me as though I am mad, I just smiled and enjoyed the moment.  I think sometimes spending a little time in the rain is good for the soul!
Who's walking in the rain at 5am?  This girl, that's who!

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

The Reason

I've been doing a lot of soul-searching lately, trying to find my mojo and discover why I've lost it in the first place.  On days I don't blog, I often log on to read others that I follow.  I guess I'm a creeper sometimes.  One blog Jacksh*t, Gettin' Fit has a very inspirational page called Why I Do This Here.  It is a portion of his blog devoted to his readers' reasons for wanting and seeking a healthier life.  If you have a few minutes, you should hop on over to his blog and read/add one.  I have been giving some thought to mine.  Alot of people say their kids.  That is a really ideal reason, and admirable if that is why.  I think my reasons are much more selfish.  Among the answers on my shortlist are these:
    Because I love attention
    Because Fat isn't very punk
    Because I want him to regret not giving me a chance
    Because excuses are the minions of apathy
     Because old and fat doesn't work for me
     Because breathing is one of my favorite pasttimes
     Because I am tired of feeling invisible
     Because I am tired of the look I get when my fitness-model-husband introduces me to someone
     Because I am seriously tired of being asked when my baby is due
I could go on and on.  As I was reading through a really old journal from more than a decade ago, I came across something that I wrote that truly woke me up, and that became my reason.
I think that says it all.
What's your reason?

Friday, June 15, 2012

Bowlfuls of Love

This is a bowl that my family has had for years, and we all eat from it without any deep thought.  It came in a set with other 3 other expressions, including one that looks love-drunk.  Yesterday, before I filled it up with sugary cereal for breakfast, it struck me how perfectly this bowl exemplifies how I feel about food.  It is cozy, warming, feels like love.  This is the bowl my youngest son, Zach particularily loves to eat from, and he often immitates the face before and during his meal from this bowl. It is a face he used to make long before we had the bowl or knew he was autistic.  But it became abundantly clear that for me, and for him, food
= happy love.  For so many people food is comfort and love and warmth all in one.  For those of us who feel that way, it is really hard to think of giving that up.  To me, it's like being asked to sleep without a blanket.  But that's just a selfish concern, and inconvenience.  I'm worried about Zach.  He is so much like me, genetically, physically, emotionally, and he really watches and copies the things I do.  We have always had a very tender bond, as he is the most affectionate kid I've ever come across.  Watching him grow, is like getting a glimpse into my own growth.  And what worries me the most is that at the age of seven, he is outgrowing a lot of his clothes, and pants/shorts are tight around the waist, clothes that his brother (nearly 2 years older than him) still needs a belt for.  I am starting to see a little pudge around his middle.  His autism plays a huge part, as he is ultra-sensitive to smells, tastes and textures.  The mere smell of eggs cooking makes him gag uncontrollably, so we have to light incense in our house every morning so my husband can eat his breakfast without our son losing his stomach.  There are several things that the rest of us eat that make Zach react this way.  I feel sorry for him.  But because he is so sensitive, he pretty much only eats a few things, and as you might guess, they are not good foods.  His favorite is Hot Pockets BBQ chicken.  It's hard to get him to try new things, and he often spits them out/gags when he does.  My other son, Israel is so adventurous with food, last night he ate coconut-encrusted cod and quinoa with me for dinner.  He has food issues too, but not as bad as Zach, and he loves fruits and veggies.    And Israel has my husband's genetics, naturally skinny, and he tends to want to copy my husband, who is a sparkling example of how we should all eat.  I feel really lucky he has such a strong example to follow.
I've been thinking a lot about my dear, sweet Zach and about his future.  Since he is so much like me, I know he is at risk for high cholesterol and high blood pressure, it runs on both sides of my family.  He naturally has a lot of muscle, that's part genetics and part autism side-effect.  I don't want him to have food issues to have to overcome.  He sees his parents constantly talking about diets and sugars and he claims he wants to go on a diet, but he doesn't understand what it means.  I would love for him to eat healthier, but I need to be setting a good example myself so he can copy. 
So Zach is one of my WHY's I've been searching for.  I don't want him to have food/health issues.  I want to show him the way.  There have been times when he pretends to be a chef, and shows interest in flavoring foods, this summer might be a great time to get him more involved in trying new things and letting him create new flavors to try.  I will never give up on him, and I will be more mindful of the example I'm setting for him.  And as I make the transition into taking control of my health, I am sure he will make an effort to copy.  It will be good for all of us.
I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend with my family.  Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

What are you Gonna Do?

I have been in hiding for some time now.  It hasn't been intentional, my family is just going through some health issues right now, a bout of Whooping Cough that still hasn't resolved, a head cold, alergies and this week I have the worst sinus infection I've suffered to date, complete with throbbing toothache sensation.  I have not been in control of my diet, as most days the pain is so elevated that I have no appetite, and when I do finally have to eat, I eat what I want.  Calorie-wise I am probably lower than most days when I eat healthy 6 times a day.  I found apple cider vinegar mixed with water and raw honey truly does help relieve sinus pressure enough for an OTC drug to do it's job.  I am seeing intermittent rays of light in this infection.
At any rate, I have been doing a lot of personal reflection the past two weeks, and some of it has been really helpful.  Like the Peter Gabriel song, I'm digging in the dirt to find the places I got hurt.  I keep thinking about running, and how it seems to have always been something I associated with being fit.  Part of me is pouting about not running or the idea of not running anymore, and that childish part of me is saying, if I can't run, I will just quit everything altogether.  I roll my eyes even as I type that!  I need to get past the whole thing.  So I have been reading through some of my old journals, and today I came across the one where I wrote my experiences about the man I would come to marry.  It is quite powerful to relive those times, and it lifted my spirits, even though they were not particularily low.  I don't believe in accidents, and I know that there was a reason I 'randomly' chose that particular journal out the dozen or so that I have.  I have been neglecting my marriage.  And after so many years of dreaming of being with someone who loved me so unconditionally, I have that, and have had that for ten years now.  I guess I was so busy feeling ignored that I didn't realize that I have been taking him for granted.  That was a bit of a wake-up call.  Having healthy relationships is so important for self esteem and mood.  My husband and I have been doing just fine, but it could be even better.  I am going to put more energy into letting him know how important he is to me. 

Today I took a glance through an old inspiration book I made several years back.  Some of the photos and words I wrote still inpsire me, and some are hopelessly outdated.  Since the journal is black paper my kids took interest in it, treating it like they'd discovered treasure when they found it a few weeks ago.  I told them they were allowed to write on any of the pages that didn't have a photo or writing on them, and I forgot about that as I leafed through them today.  After all my "grown-up", serious things I'd written, I came to a page where my son wrote: Wat are you cona (gonna) do?  How simple a statement to sum up how I've been feeling lately.  What am I gonna do?  Let myself go back up to where I came from, gasping for air from doing something as simple as walking to the mailbox?  Shop in the size 3X again?  Let life have it's way with me and run me over as I sit idly by?  Or maybe, wait for a heart attack so I can finally see what it is I'm doing to myself and my family. Honestly, I don't have all the answers, but I know I don't want to go back to where I started from.  I don't know if I have the strength to lose it all over again.  It is hard enough to keep the focus to try and lose half of that amount, much less think of gaining it all back and trying to start over.  I don't want to back-pedal anymore. 
The new issue of Oxygen magazine is out, and I spent a long time pouring over it as usual, but it was especially touching this time because the publisher Robert "Tough Love" Kennedy recently passed away, and this issue not only had a lot of tribute material, but also a message from Tough Love Bob himself.  Part of his message (in reference to success) is to not only have a goal, but to have a compelling reason why you want to acheive it.  That woke me up a little. Lightbulb moment,  I didn't lose my way, I lost my WHY.  It's something I have been putting a lot of thought into, it's definitely the cause of my quasi-effort, and at the moment, it's my biggest thorn in my side.  So that is where I am mentally, and I need to spend some more time in my mind, digging a little deeper to come up with my WHY.  Just not wanting to be fat isn't a compelling reason.  Not wanting to die early isn't compelling enough.  I don't know what it is, but I will find it.  Monday I plan on getting back to my "normal" eating, I just have to figure out what to eat.  Might try a new recipe this weekend, or scout out some veggie burger recipes to try.  I have to find something I can eat that won't repulse me.  I know I can get things back on track, I've spent so much time reading fitness magazines lately, that my mind is sharpening.  And maybe, just maybe I don't have to rule out running if I put the time, effort and expense into having my knees checked out and having my form assessed and getting the proper equipment for how/where I run.  Is it worth all that, and the risk of arthritis?  These are some of the questions I need to answer for myself.  I do know that sitting around waiting to feel better isn't helping me recover from my illness, and it isn't helping to set a good example for my kids.  There's a lot more work to do, but as my main mantra and my back-up mantra affirm, I've got more in me, and I'm not done yet!  This isn't a do-over, I am just moving on from a time of rest and reflection.  I begin next week with hope for longevity and logic.
To my loyal blog readers, thanks for coming around, you really do make a difference to me!

Monday, June 4, 2012


I can't believe it has been nearly a week since I posted.  And it has been quite a week.  The previous week, my older son had developed quite a nasty cough, and on Tuesday, his school called to tell me there was a confirmed case of whooping cough in his classroom.  I immediately went into panic mode.  I knew it was something worse than just the standard head cold, because he has been coughing so violently, and that isn't characteristic of his "normal" colds.  So I took him to the doctor on Wednesday, who was very under-concerned in my opinion, and said that since there was no fever, and he hadn't been vomiting, he was reluctant to call it anything other than a virus, posibly bronchitis, though his lungs were clear.  Every night for more than a week I watch my son cough so violently that it made me nauseous, then on Thurday evening it reached a fever pitch to the point of his gasping for air as he was having a violent coughing fit and vomiting.  My legs gave out from under me as I watched him gasp for air that seemed to not be there.  The most horrible whooping sound comes from this act, trying to not suffocate or aspirate.  So the anti-bacterial drug that the doctor firmly stated we shouldn't start until Friday, we waited like good parents, and then started him on the medication.  He is so much better during the day, but still has some violent coughing fits at night.  It has been a week of very little and very broken sleep for my husband, our son and I.  Luckily, my younger son has slept through it all, and his immune system seems to be fighting admirably. 
When I was fairly certain he had whooping cough earlier in the week, and missed a day of work, my stress level sky-rocketed.  Having a sick child is a horrible feeling, especially when there is so little you can do to help.  My healthy habits once again took a nose-dive and my week ended up in the toilet.  On Saturday, I weighed myself, hoping the number there would shock me into fighting back.  I thought quietly to myself, I have been nearly twenty pounds lighter than this.  And worse yet, I am only 22 pounds lighter than I was when I began this journey.  There was a time when I was nearly 40 pounds lighter, I regained nearly half of what I lost.  It was really sad to think of it, but it didn't reinspire me like I'd hoped.  Then I took out some photos comparing a shirt I used to wear when I was at my starting point and over 200 pounds, and another shirt that I wear now, and a shirt in a size medium, which is where I'd be perfectly content being.  I kept reminding myself, this is not impossible, but it will take determination, and thinking through things a little more instead of reacting emotionally be shoving food in my mouth. 
This morning I walked 5K in a little less than an hour, I was walking so fast that it felt like I'd been doing lunges or squats, and when I got done, it actually felt like I had run, minus the knee pain, thank goodness! 
I'm starting this week with the mindset of only being concerned about today.  I'm not trying to break any good-girl/fitness freak records or think about things a year from now.  My challenges are today and I'm going to try to think smarter about those challenges, and not take on the world all at once.  Today I am stronger than yesterday and my desire to make this happen is greater than it was yesterday.  That's all I can ask of today.  I'll save tomorrow's challenges for tomorrow.  That is my new plan.
Happy Monday readers!