28 Miles
Wouldn't you know it, the day after my horrific dental procedure, one of my customers came in saying she works in that building and saw me. I told her which doctor I was seeing and she blurted out, "Did she tell you that she started chemotherapy for breast cancer that same day?" My stomach flipped. First I was appalled at the fact that she would share something so personal about someone in a professional position. Sure, we both work in a health-related field but that is HIPAA protected information and I'm not sure how my doctor would feel about her blurting out that information to brand new patients. Next I felt so bad for judging her for being so absent-minded losing things and being indicisive and having to retry things several times. Of course she would be upset, probably had a million emotions running through her all at once, they had called earlier in the month to see if I wanted to move my appointment up but I couldn't make it work with my schedule. I felt guilty. Then, I felt a little like maybe she should have explained it a little more and taken the day off. They could say, "Dr. is going to have an intensive metal treatment that day and doesn't feel she would be able to give her best level of care. Would you be able to reschedule?" I would have made it work. Anyway, I am now looking forward to getting my stitches out on Thursday, but I'm also a little nervous and I will feel a little awkward knowing what I am not supposed to know.
Enough dental talk for now!
Being that I work for a health clinic, we have a health and wellness department that helps inspire us to do healthy things. For instance, getting an eye exam is worth points, having a physical, even just wearing a pedometer to track steps is worth points. Earn a certain number of points and you get a bonus on your paycheck. You get the drift. So because I wear a Fitbit Zip, I was invited for a challenge to walk an average of 14 miles per week for the next month. It sounds like a lot on paper. I usually track steps/day and don't really look at my stats too often, but when I took a look back at a typical week (one where I didn't have extremely high days or forgot to wear my device for an entire day) this is what I was looking at:
So for what I consider a fairly typical week, I get about 55,000 steps in which equals roughly 20 miles walked. This was a week when I was not trying to bike/walk or do anything extra, this is just my normal life. So when I saw that this work challenge isn't really a challenge I started to think of how I could make it interesting/challenging. What if I double it and try for 28 miles a week? So if my math is right, it takes about 2,562 steps for my short little self to walk a mile. So 28 miles would be 71,736 steps in a week, which is just over 10,000 steps per day. Not undoable but it would certainly be a challenge. I will have to think about it more, then commit to getting those steps in somewhere. Taking the dog for real walks instead of slowly sauntering around the property begging him to "go". Biking on the days that my hips hurt, maybe even dancing? I will have to get a little creative, especially on Sundays when I have a tendency to be less active. I clicked the button to sign up, and it started yesterday and for the week I only have 15,000 steps so far! UGH! I have a lot of ground to make up for. It has been a little quieter at work recently and I have found myself sitting more, so that is going to have a big impact. However, I do have a somewhat unique situation in that, when its quiet, I can pace back and forth (it's about 10 steps one way) in my back "work room" and get some paces in that way. It's not super intense walking but it gets the paces in!
So that is my motivator to be active for the next month. After pouting over my mouth through the rest of last week and the weekend, I returned to sane eating; lower carb and less empty calories. I am still suppposed to eat softer foods until my stitches come out so I'm having a veggie wrap for lunch (kale, feta and kalamata olives on a multi-grain tortilla), yogurt with berries for breakfast and mostly softer cheese and yogurt for snacks. I am having spaghetti for dinners this week.
What I discovered last week when I was trying to soothe myself with food, frantically raiding the fridge and cupboard, eating stuff that didn't even sound particularly good or taste satisfying at all...just on that edgy, "need something" desperate search, is that comfort wasn't in the fridge or the cupboard, and it's sorry excuse for a fill-in didn't really taste all that good, especially when I kept eating past the point of being full. That is something I haven't done in a long time and it made me feel physically miserable. I finally had to stop myself and remind myself that what I was doing was not helping me. It didn't soothe or calm me. It didn't take away my pain or the guilt of all the money I'm spending on my mouth right now. It sure didn't make my stomach feel good. I was also aware of how it felt to not have to "be careful" with the sugars or the fats, I just ate whatever and there was a part of me that felt like I was celebrating. That little part is dangerous. I equate that bit with "freedom" but in reality, eating that way long-term will lead to the exact opposite mentally and physically. So, being back to moderately sane eating feels better for me. Sometimes I imagine how I would look to an outsider during a compulsive eating episode and I imagine they see someone tortured and not in the possession of logic! Like a mad woman. A sad, mad, woman. I guess, though I go through phases of being less careful with what I eat, at least that desperate, emotional binge hasn't happened to me in a long time, so that means all of the effort I have invested in getting better has not been wasted. Not a bad way to stay motivated to keep trying if you ask me.
Enough dental talk for now!
Being that I work for a health clinic, we have a health and wellness department that helps inspire us to do healthy things. For instance, getting an eye exam is worth points, having a physical, even just wearing a pedometer to track steps is worth points. Earn a certain number of points and you get a bonus on your paycheck. You get the drift. So because I wear a Fitbit Zip, I was invited for a challenge to walk an average of 14 miles per week for the next month. It sounds like a lot on paper. I usually track steps/day and don't really look at my stats too often, but when I took a look back at a typical week (one where I didn't have extremely high days or forgot to wear my device for an entire day) this is what I was looking at:
So that is my motivator to be active for the next month. After pouting over my mouth through the rest of last week and the weekend, I returned to sane eating; lower carb and less empty calories. I am still suppposed to eat softer foods until my stitches come out so I'm having a veggie wrap for lunch (kale, feta and kalamata olives on a multi-grain tortilla), yogurt with berries for breakfast and mostly softer cheese and yogurt for snacks. I am having spaghetti for dinners this week.
What I discovered last week when I was trying to soothe myself with food, frantically raiding the fridge and cupboard, eating stuff that didn't even sound particularly good or taste satisfying at all...just on that edgy, "need something" desperate search, is that comfort wasn't in the fridge or the cupboard, and it's sorry excuse for a fill-in didn't really taste all that good, especially when I kept eating past the point of being full. That is something I haven't done in a long time and it made me feel physically miserable. I finally had to stop myself and remind myself that what I was doing was not helping me. It didn't soothe or calm me. It didn't take away my pain or the guilt of all the money I'm spending on my mouth right now. It sure didn't make my stomach feel good. I was also aware of how it felt to not have to "be careful" with the sugars or the fats, I just ate whatever and there was a part of me that felt like I was celebrating. That little part is dangerous. I equate that bit with "freedom" but in reality, eating that way long-term will lead to the exact opposite mentally and physically. So, being back to moderately sane eating feels better for me. Sometimes I imagine how I would look to an outsider during a compulsive eating episode and I imagine they see someone tortured and not in the possession of logic! Like a mad woman. A sad, mad, woman. I guess, though I go through phases of being less careful with what I eat, at least that desperate, emotional binge hasn't happened to me in a long time, so that means all of the effort I have invested in getting better has not been wasted. Not a bad way to stay motivated to keep trying if you ask me.
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