Category Archives: challenges

Why I’m laying off the scale

I believe in keeping track of weight over time.

It’s a good canary in the coal mine. I even remember the moment about three years ago when I saw the scale had nudged up by 7 lbs. My thought at the time? “Huh. Oh well.” If I’d used the information as a little wakeup call, I probably wouldn’t have gone on to gain an additional 17 lbs.

The practice of weighing (in my life) also correlates well with good health habits. If I’m weighing myself, I’m paying attention. When I pay attention, I put an emphasis on good foods (and sometimes exercise, though that’s a whole other challenge for me).

So why am I stepping away from the scale for now?

Weight-loss efforts before have been focused on just that: losing weight. When I lost more than 40 lbs. many years ago, it was in large part due to reducing my food intake (and doing occasional exercise).

And it’s what I needed at the time. I’d spent my entire life overweight, long enough to assume it was “just how I’m meant to be.” Losing weight shook me out of that notion.

Now, though, losing that weight I gained back has become a secondary goal: my primary goal is to become fit. I mean. FIT.

And I’ve been doing pretty well. It’s been easier than I expected to eliminate the extraneous cheese and sweets from my day (and I often replace them with fruit bowls or extra veggies in my meals). I’m even excited about pushing my body physically. I have little goals and for the most part I’m reaching them.

Except that when I step on the scale, it’s stuck (and sometimes sneaks up a pound or two). Whenever I see those numbers, I get discouraged.

What I don’t need right now is to be doing all this good work and then get discouraged because of the ten seconds I spend on a scale.

The plan: stay off the scale until September. Keep up my good habits (and challenge myself to ramp them up).

What I hope will happen

I want to rewire my brain to find rewards in good-food days; in my accomplishments on the bike and in my spin and H.E.A.T. classes; and in how those things change the way my body feels.

If I can start reacting more significantly to those cues, then a little time on the scale shouldn’t mean anything more than what it is: a reflection of how my body is reacting to all these good things I’m doing for it.

on my bike, i think deep thoughts

It’s actually pretty corny … but every time I get on a bike by myself, I find myself stumbling on some new, healthy perspective. These things click usually as I’m climbing a hill and have to dig deep into my will to get through the push.

Recent deep thoughts:

» There is nothing for me to overcome. I rode past a young, chubby girl one day and remembered my own young, chubby self. I was on the verge of thinking something like “look how far I’ve come,” or “push harder for her! For your old self!” But almost immediately I realized it didn’t ring true … because I have nothing to overcome; I have nothing in my past that’s wrong or bad.

My young, chubby self was a moment in time. The moment is passed. I used to prefer sitting all day (and still sometimes do), but that lifestyle is no longer my lifestyle. My present and future are not executed in an effort to undo past moments. They are executed to move forward.

What a weight to be lifted! What a burden to unbind.

» I can climb the mountain if I accept what gear I need to make it up. And it was this day that I let go of the judgments I’d made of my strength: I’d had it in my head that if I could make a climb in a slightly higher gear, it meant I was strong; that if I needed to cut down to the easiest gear, I should be embarrassed.

Terribly wrong. Gears are there to help you do what you can do. So I shifted to my easiest gear in that moment and made a solo climb that felt endless and painful. But I was determined, and I made it to the top of my climb.

I haven’t been ashamed to shift to my easiest gear since, and in fact I find myself adjusting my gears throughout a ride more often. My energy feels more steady from start to finish (and on a recent 20-mile loop I even decided I should add five miles, seeing as I was still feeling so durn good).

» I don’t have to make it, I just have to try. This, on my most recent solo ride, during which I came up to one of the steepest hills I’ve faced. It wasn’t long, but I had no preceding downhill-sprint to give me a boost. It was just gonna be me, climbing.

I saw it coming for a while, and I kept repeating that I didn’t have to make it, I just had to try. Over and over. And then I stood up to start the climb, repeating it. And I cursed and repeated it. And I criss-crossed the climb (to cut down the effect of the incline) and repeated it. And I felt like I was going to fall off my bike and I kept repeating it. And I was at the top. I’d made it.

I had nothing but (less-steep) climb ahead of me once I made it up the initial incline. I had to turn around after a half-mile. But I made it so much further than if I hadn’t tried.

None of these is an original thought. But hell if in finally owning each thought did I not feel some measure of release.

I let go of the negative.
I let go of self-judgment.
I let go of caring if I failed an attempt.

I took up the moment.
I took up the acceptance of what I can do and the choice to celebrate it.
I took up the notion that to try is to succeed.

a small problem with the economy of scale: satisfaction

Firstly, as a number-lover and budgeter, I appreciate economy of scale.

It means that if I go to a warehouse store and buy bulk, I can get my oats at a lower price per ounce. If I tell the farmer at the market that I might just buy that whole crate of apples, he might just give me a little deal and reduce the price per pound.

I don’t have a problem with the concept, per se.

But there’s this thing built into economy of scale when it comes to buying prepared foods; and I don’t think I’ll be able to sum it up clearly, so I’ll just tell the little story of my coffee cup.

get the short cup

I’ve come to really enjoy my afternoon coffee. It’s one of those mental breaks that helps carry me through the last couple of hours of work before I head back home on the bus.

I keep forgetting to pack my own coffee grounds along with lunch in the mornings; my backup cup is from the Starbucks across the way (the only coffee within walking distance of my job).

When I’d set out to get my afternoon cup this past Wednesday, I had two things on my mind: I’ve only allotted myself $20 for “treat” purchases this month; and I’m trying to trim back my caffeine (just one more way that I’m trying to achieve a better nutrition balance).

So I headed out thinking “You know what? for the first time in a long time, I’ll get the 8 oz. cup of coffee.” (If you ask for a “short” at Starbucks, they discreetly [I noticed] pull an 8 oz. cup and fill it for you.)

I was kind of steeling myself for the smaller portion. Because, you know, you just get used to having a certain amount of *anything*; and getting less can feel like you’re getting … shorted.

In any case, I steeled myself for the 8 oz. cup, and I truly got ready to enjoy the smaller amount of coffee.

And then the total came to $1.57. Umm, that’s only 11 cents less than the 12 oz. cup (at $1.68). “I only saved 11 cents?! It would totally be worth 11 cents to get four more ounces of coffee!!”

That’s what I was thinking. With some math running in the back of my head:

» 12 oz. is 50 percent more than 8 oz.
» $1.68 is only seven percent more than $1.57!

The value is obviously with the 12 oz. cup!

UGH. But this is the problem. I didn’t *want* the 12 oz. cup. And yet the skewed valuation made me feel cheated by the 8 oz. cup. It was difficult for me to feel I’d made the right decision … because it wasn’t the “smart” financial decision.

I had to convince myself that it was still the right choice. That if I wanted the 8 oz. cup, I should be ready to place a higher value on my own desire for less coffee than on my instinct to get the “better deal.”

this is nothing new

Obviously, Starbucks isn’t the only food retailer that prices their menu this way; and this economy has existed for generations.

I’m not going to argue that the system should change. I just wanted to take the time to recognize how my decisions are affected by the system and ask myself what I should do to stay in control as a consumer.

solution no. 1: be happy with less at a higher cost. When it comes to buying prepared foods, whether it be in restaurants, coffee shops, bakeries, my focus *must* be on what I want … me. I shouldn’t even *think* about the larger size vs. the smaller size; the dinner platter vs. the salad and soup; the waffle cone vs. the cup of ice cream. If the “better” financial value lies with a selection that feeds me more calories (or caffeine) than I want to put in my body, it is NOT the better value for me.

solution no. 2: scratch-make it. Another argument to make most of our foods from scratch! (Or in the case of coffee, to brew our own.) When we home-make our meals, snacks, desserts, we buy ingredients in their whole — and cheapest — form. It’s here that economy of scale works best for us … we’re buying things that we can store on the shelf until we need them, or use to make multiple meals throughout the week. And you know what else? When we use those ingredients, the cost to us is in direct relationship with the amount we pull off the shelf.

Some math (using made-up, easily divisible numbers):

» We pay $10 for a bag of coffee beans that’ll make 10 cups of coffee. $1 per cup.
» One day, I decide I want only a half-cup of coffee. The cost? $0.50 per cup.

I like that. A lot.

i forgot my lunch!!

I was headed to my bus stop this morning when I realized I’d left my super-awesome-healthy lunch (veggies, homemade hummus & fruit for dessert) on the kitchen counter.

Whoops.

If I turned back, I’d have to drive my car to work (no thanks; I like taking the bus, which is cheaper, saves my car the wear-and-tear and is better for our little environment here).

That was challenge no. 1: realizing I’d have to go out into the consumer food world and make the right decision when my plans had suddenly changed. (Plans do me a world of good. When I make a plan, I generally stick to it. No plan? Who knows …)

Challenge No.2: I’ve recently tightened up our budget. One of the financial corners I’ve tidied is our willy nilly spending … the coffee here, the workday lunch there. It adds up!

But I definitely want Patrick and I to enjoy ourselves. So I’m taking cash out each month for each of us to carry around. Once it’s out, the month’s treats are done. My monthly allotment? Twenty bucks. And it’s only May 2.

So I’ve got the unplanned, consumer food world ahead of me, and I don’t wanna spend too much money. And of course I want to be healthy.

and then, a big duh

Whenever I think of buying my lunch, I think of going to a restaurant. My options within walking distance of work (cause, remember: I took the bus)?

Cici’s Pizza (salad bar plus a few slices, which always ends up being too much bad food).

Panera (which has healthy options, but always ends up costing too much money).

And that’s basically it. The other options are either clearly overpriced or unhealthy.

AND THEN DUH IT HIT ME: I have a grocery option. Within walking distance. Sure, it’s through some awkward, big parking lots. But it’s a place full of healthy, cheap food options!

How is this the first time I’ve considered it?

In any case, as immediately as that option popped had in my head, I also thought to scour the shelves for the best and cheapest lunch option, to serve as my consummate back-up plan for the days I invariably forget a lunch or we’ve come to the end of our in-stock healthy options at home (it happens!).

With that in mind, I trekked to the grocery looking for savory, high-protein options, plus a little something sweet. I came back with (about):

» 1/5 lb. green beans ($0.33)
» 1/3 lb. sweet potato ($0.27)
» 1/3 lb. red potato ($0.32)
» 1/3 lb. roma tomatoes ($0.77)
» 1/2 lb. banana ($0.24)
» 1/2 lb. apple ($0.72)

total: $2.72 (including tax)

As I was been filling my arms with goods, I actually thought “OK, this is gonna start getting expensive,” but I definitely wanted to make sure I brought enough food back to be satisfied (hungry Lindsay is kinda … a grump).

I’d also expected to seek out something hearty in the bakery (bread) or dairy (cheese?) departments, but I’d forgotten all about sweet potatoes! Filling, delicious, nutritious.

I plan to heat the potatoes in the microwave and see if I can find a little something fatty in the work fridge (butter or dressing) to sprinkle on top along with salt. The rest? I’ll crunch on raw.

I’m kinda stoked and proud to have found a healthy (cheap!) back-up plan!

PS: Bonus? I got fresh air, the walk was long enough to feel invigorating (including a pretty steep climb on the way back to work), and I drink lots of water during the jaunt.

the week in review & its lesson

The past week was … pretty good. I didn’t reach any of my goals from last week (I didn’t hit the gym at least four times, only two; I didn’t wear my heart rate monitor once, because I still haven’t found it; the closest I came to waking up at 5 a.m. — regardless of my intention to go the gym — was the morning I got out of bed at 5:55. “Yay! Still the 5 o’clock hour!”).

The thing that makes this all kinda OK is that the weekend was great. Seriously.

Patrick and I, as I mentioned earlier, rode our bikes up a mountain and made our first trip to a Star City Brewers Guild meeting. We met a ton of great people who brew beer. Additionally? The food spread included a lot of healthy options (I ate fresh greens, hummus, tabouli, flat bread and some spinach dip). And, AND … how many different versions of homemade lifestyle did I hear about? Among them: compost worms in someone’s house, homemade kimchi, other folks’ versions of beer breads, home-cured ham, homegrown mushrooms, hop gardens. This group meets once a month and I expect I’ll learn something new about beer and about scratchmade living at every meeting.

So that was how amazing Saturday was.

Sunday was pretty great, too: a hike halfway along Tinker Ridge; homemaking an Italian loaf, granola bars*, granola cereal; and a delicious dinner of that fresh bread, toasted and accompanied by sliced pear, tomato, roquefort, fresh mozzarella and honey.

Are you f*cking kidding me? The weekend could not have gotten much better. And it’s one I want to replicate again and again. I want a bike ride every weekend, a hike, homemaking, and good tasty nutritious eating.

Is this some version of spring fever?

this is the tasty italian, made by patrick. i’m so glad we finally started making all the bread we eat … so simple and yet such a feeling of accomplishment. below? the bread mid-mix, and a little saazie-face to get you all “awwww”-y. (this is what we see anytime we’re in the kitchen: her trying to be as close to us as possible without getting in the way. ok, sometimes getting in the way.)

In any case, as good as the weekend was, I still want to take some notes from my less-than-stellar week …

the lessons

1. I need to seriously cut the sugar out. And I need to give credit to my fruit & oat bowls for satisfying my sweet tooth.

I was pretty go-go-go all week … until Friday.

I’ve tried to bring a certain tradition into the workplace (which I borrowed from Patrick’s old job in Knoxville): #coffeefriday; celebrate payday with coffee and breakfast! It’s brilliant and important and something to look forward to every two weeks.

In past weeks I’ve brought in homemade scones and biscotti, a co-worker brought donuts another week, and yet another everyone contributed to oatmeal breakfast (bringing spices, oats, fruit, coconut, etc.)

This week? I brought in some delectable treats from Bread Craft, a sweet little shop serving up European-style goods. I highly recommend it, and I will eat there on into the future (their salads are tasty, their sandwiches hearty, their cheese is housemade!).

But between my coffee Friday morning and my ginger scone from Bread Craft, I turned crabby instantly. And then I ate another pastry in the afternoon (danish).

I knew what was happening, but I was not able/willing to fight it. I knew that sugar is no good for me first thing in the morning (or in that quantity, or unaccompanied by protein and fiber). But I picked up the scone and ate it. I knew that the reason I wanted the second pastry was because I’d eaten the first. But I ate the second pastry.

I’m going to challenge myself this week: I’m going to limit my cane-sugar intake to the little amount that’s included in my newly homemade granola-bar-squares (one ounce of granola square has about 0.1 ounce of sugar) and bittersweet chocolate. Otherwise, I’m going to look to fruit to satisfy my sweet tooth, or to forgo a sweet when I would otherwise indulge the craving.

What I hope to see is a week of me feeling full of energy and ready to take on all the challenges that await me.

here’s a nonsugar dessert I enjoyed earlier in the week: chopped pear, plain old-fashioned oats, malted barley, semisweet chocolate & honey. it was delicious and it’s the kind of thing i plan to reach for whenever i think “sweet!”

2. I absolutely must have all my morning stuffs prepped if I want to get my ass successfully and energetically to the gym. I lost my keys last week. Also, I have no idea where my heart rate monitor is. Some mornings my lunch wasn’t ready and when as I was going to bed all I could think about was how rushed I was going to feel trying to fit in a trip to the gym, getting ready for work, eating breakfast and making my lunch. I’m pretty sure that anxiety kept me in bed some mornings.

So I want to remove all simple obstacles. I aim to have: my gym clothes folded and ready for me, my keys stored alongside them, my iPod full and charged, my lunch made.

I’ll limit my goals to these two, but I think of them as very small, integral cogs in a very big machine. I hope to be running more smoothly one week from today.

* The recipe for granola bars (shown above cut into about 2-point portions) is from America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook. I recommend just about anything that this behemoth food brand creates (Cook’s Illustrated, Cook’s Country, the America’s Test Kitchen PBS show, cooksillustrated.com). Their business model is built around being only mildly open source, so to speak. I’ll respect that and post a recipe for the granola bars only after I’ve tweaked it enough to feel like I can call it my own.

since last we met …

… I’ve done some good things!

(list!)
> I cleared out my digital spaces. Gmail: empty. Google docs: streamlined & organized. Facebook friends: edited. Google Reader subscriptions: improved! All these pieces of data float, they’re weightless. But they tax my mind so much when they’re not meaningful, organized, utilized.

E-mail, for instance: I was using it to hold on to information (passwords, recipes, etc.). But I never actually searched my e-mail archives for those things regularly. And in any case, is that really what e-mail should be for? I mean, would I keep a big bucket in my house to store every piece of mail I got, just in case I’d need to refer to it? No, I’d level some importance on each piece of mail, and then *do* something with it. So that’s that. My e-mail *must* remain a weigh station until I figure out the usefulness of any given piece of correspondence, and then *act* on that usefulness.

> I signed up for the gym! I had my choice of a free gym membership in the town where I work (through my husband’s employer, who’s based in Blacksburg even though he works from Roanoke … where we live), or I could get a reduced membership at a gym where I live (though *my* employer, who’s based in Roanoke even though I work in the Blacksburg area. Ha!).

I love to save a buck, but the Blacksburg gym would have meant me adding to my commute (which is already 3 hours total every day), and carefully coordinating my (sometimes unpredictable) work schedule to make sure I get to that gym before it closes. Too many obstacles. And I’m honest enough with myself to know that I’ll use things like long commutes to excuse skipping my workout.

So it’s a membership at my Roanoke gym instead. And in fact, it’s a gym I attended when we lived here four years ago. Home sweet home.

> I went to the gym! It only took me about two weeks longer than it should have to actually sign up for the gym, so I was kind of proud of myself for waking up this morning and taking advantage of my membership immediately. 5 a.m. alarm. To the gym by 5:30. Thirty minutes on an ellipticalmadoohicky. Back home. It was short and sweet, and ultimately I want to *get* to the gym by 5 a.m., but I told myself I’d ease into it. Better I start slow and gain traction than start with a high bar and feel like I’m falling short.

> I tracked my Weight Watchers points all week. It took a little bit of effort, especially on the weekend when we took a great day trip to Charlottesville, Va., and I had to remember all my food choices. But I did it. And I was honest. And I was only 2 points over for the week. When I get on the right track with food, I know I’m in for a string of even *more* healthy decisions. So yay!

> I pre-tracked my breakfast and lunch for today. I’ve always found this helpful, and almost necessary to set up good food habits throughout the week. Not to mention that I can usually find a time to pre-track, but by the end of a day of looking *back* on food I ate and trying to record it, I find myself full of excuses for not doing it. Which tends to lead to more days of not tracking, which eventually leads to days of not actually making the smart food choices that tracking helps me focus on.

So, a pretty great start to the week. …

… *ahem* after this confession
My husband planned a pretty amazing weekend for us. I even drafted a sweet blog entry about how wonderful he is and what a productive Saturday and Sunday we had ahead of us …

And then I got in a crabby, crabby mood on Saturday. And it carried over into Sunday. This happened last weekend, too. And either I *hate* the weekends (???), or there’s something else going on. And I think I may have identified it: Saturday morning breakfast.

It should be a treat, right? First day of repose, lazy morning … “good” breakfast! Of … donuts! (It’s good because it’s delicious. Uhuh.)

But yeah, sugar in the morning … hell no more. Hell. No. More. Because I think it’s crashing my spirits right into the ground. Poor husband! He really did have a great weekend planned, and we ended up doing most of the things we intended to: drive to Charlottesville, with a stop at a brew-pub on the way (here’s his review of Blue Mountain Brewery); and then good coffee & walkin’ our sweet dog through C’ville. And there I was, pouting. Boooooo.

In any case, it’s a lesson for my future breakfast: if anything, I’ll make it bacon. Hold the sugar.

weekend warrior

Productivity, fueld by coffee (PS: I totally photoshopped myself a clear complexion … forehead pimple! I almost gave myself more eyebrows, too … )

OK, OK. So I admitted to falling down a little with the no-tracking thing. That’s Step 1.

Step 2 is to get back into warrior stance and do some stuff. Including starting to track food again. Hey, wanna see my spreadsheet? I knew you did! I’ll explain how it works in a future writeup.

It’s nearly ridiculous how much focus this tracking thing brings to my food decisions.

I recorded my breakfast, and I’ve already written out my lunch (hummus sandwich with veg and feta). I’ll be going out to dinner with Patrick this evening and I know I have 6 points left for the day (plus a few extra weekly points if I want to use them). I’ll probably drink a beer (3 points) and have a piece of pizza (5 points).

And you know what? I don’t feel deprived. I feel in control and happy to know I’m making good choices.

other plans for the weekend
A nice long walk. I haven’t exercised since our long ride along the Creeper Trail. I could go to the gym or get on my bike, but after such a long absence — and being in need of re-centering — a walk is perfect. I love, love, long walks. I like the fresh air and the time to reflect.

Brewer’s Jam! Patrick and I are going to help man the homebrew club’s booth, and I plan on having fun, drinking beer (counting points, of course), and helping my husband hand out tasters. I also designed the homebrewers’ tab cards, which was a super fun good time. Aren’t they nice?

Write up the next entry in my tracking tools how-to. I can’t just let a series sit unattended! I may even write up the third entry, too. (My first entry in the series, by the way).

23-mile bike ride! It’s one of my Stinger goals, to replicate a ride Patrick and I took several weeks ago when I still just had a mountain bike. When I originally set the goal I’d assumed it would be a big deal to ride that far on a road bike, but after our neighborhood tour a few weeks ago, I think it’s gonna be pretty comfortable. Still, it’s sitting there, unfinished. Oh, and it’d be our Sunday bike ride. Another goal, chipped away!

Here’s to getting up and dusting yourself off …

why tracking my food is important

Omuhgod I’ve started this blog entry about five bajillion times. Because it’s half reflection, half confession and I don’t know which one should come first.

bullet points
- Tracking is important to me because it helps me focus on healthy decision-making.
- I have not tracked for at least a month. Isn’t this funny? Because I’ve just finished part one of four-part series detailing how I built my tracking tools.

This may read very heavy, but I share it with a light heart, and the objectivity of a lab study. These are facts (for myself) I’m laying out. Some of them talk about guilt and shame and the like, but I don’t feel guilt or shame for having an area that needs improvement. I think of this as the coach telling me I really need to work on my follow-through, because I keep sending the baseball directly to right field.

what it means & what happens when i don’t track
Not tracking my food is something like a harbinger; it’s also something like a symptom. Not tracking usually comes as the result of something; but it also results in things. Some background on what tracking does do for me …

Tracking assigns eating cues. I have never (ever) been someone who eats out of hunger. Left to my own devices, I grab the food that tastes good and that I imagine will make me happy in that moment. It doesn’t matter if that moment is 8 a.m., noon, 2 p.m., 7 p.m., 11 p.m. When I track my food — within a context of how much is appropriate to eat in a given day — I’m much more aware of how much fuel my body actually needs.

Tracking brings focus. My good habits require attention in a way that my bad habits don’t. Tracking food is a ritual I repeat throughout the day, throughout the week. It requires me to stop and think about the food I choose to eat, and to answer for the decisions I make. That attention to cause and effect is enough to help me make good decisions. I feel more power to wait between meals, or to snack smartly.

… then when I’m not tracking …

I lose focus. When I lose that sense of direction (sometimes for very innocuous things, like happy celebration times), I tend to let my good habits fall aside. I fill in idle moments with a bite of cheese, or a mindless grab at chips. Without innate hunger cues (which I suppose I may never gain), I have no idea if I’ve eaten too much on any given day (and usually the answer that I conveniently avoid by not tracking is that I have, indeed, eaten too much).


Giving in. … to the cheese. And bread and butter. Cookie dough. More cheese. Things that don’t contribute to my nutritional needs for the day. Indulgences. Every day. Isn’t indulgence meant to be occasional? Isn’t it meant to be special? I have nothing against the cheese, or bread and butter, or cookie dough. I think they’re all a fine part of a healthy diet. But within the context of mindfulness.


I feel I have a terrible secret. Because when I’m not tracking, I give myself a pass to eat whatever I want, whenever. And that feels really good in the moment. And I don’t want to give up those moments. So I keep them to myself. And a secret is terrible. Mostly, it reflects shame or a level of self-awareness that I’m not willing to face. This is food for Christ’s sake! I should feel empowered enough to admit that I ate that block of cheese, damnit, and I won’t let it get in my way of making the right decision next time! But I don’t admit it, and keeping it to myself becomes a reason to make the next bad decision.


so, i confessed
Officially, I suppose. And it won’t be the last time (it certainly hasn’t been the first). But I would like to gain something for next time, maybe cut it off earlier in the pass.

no limits, i promise

I think limits are natural, and a defense mechanism. They keep us from doing something dangerous or stupid that could land us in, say, the hospital for, say, trying to leap from the second story of a building just to see what’ll happen when we land.

But limits can be dangerous, too, I think.

For instance, I mentioned in my about page that I want to be athletic, but that I’d assumed for a long time it was something I couldn’t expect for myself. Why? Because I had this notion that it was out of my reach; beyond my limits.

It’s not like I’d ever actually attempted to be athletic and failed, though. And I certainly hadn’t attempted it over and over and failed, the way you really should to understand that something is off-limits to you.

I just put a little wall between me and this thing, and I decided it wasn’t worth trying to overcome (because, remember? I’m lazy).

So no more limits. Even when things get hard. Because if I establish limits, I establish the points at which I’m willing to give up.

practically speaking?
- Practically speaking, it means I’m aiming for the stars with that 18% body fat goal (the lady athletes come in at between 14% and 20% body fat);

- practically speaking, it means I’m going to push harder when I’m ready to quit (Patrick and I did a 14-mile bike ride Sunday; I climbed hills with my butt *out* of the seat, even though I hate doing it);

- and practically speaking, it means on bad days, when I think having a bad day means I’m not good enough to make this work, I’m just gonna shut the fuck up and put that bullshit in its place.

oh right, i’m lazy

As I’ve pushed my physical limits in the past few weeks, I’m reminded of one of my biggest hurdles: my own laziness. And I’m not just talking exercise or physical activity. At any given moment, I’d rather sit still and get lost in thought than do … just about anything. There’ve been very few things in life that wake me up in the morning excited for the day.

Add to that 1) a loath to continue doing anything I’m not good at; and 2) a knack for procrastination, and it’s a wonder that I don’t actually weigh about 100 pounds more.

So what exactly is it that’s got me thinking about this now? Well, I brought myself to the edge of disappointment on that 23-mile bike ride with Patrick this past Sunday. I was beating myself up for being a wimp (aka, struggling to climb tiny hills on my lowest gears, and with my butt hunched limply on the seat). I momentarily entertained the idea that I don’t have what it takes to get fit. That I’d ultimately crumble to the judgment I placed on myself and the difficulty of the work.

This sounds less like a crossroads with laziness than with self-doubt, which I suppose it is. But I see the laziness in that willingness to give up, and possibly under so little actual pressure: it was my first bike ride after years of not cycling. And it was 23 miles, perhaps the longest leisurely ride I’ve ever done outside our trips along the Creeper Trail.

But all I saw was a little wall ahead, and I thought it might be better to turn around then to try to climb over it (or at least hang out at the bottom until my powers of persuasion tore it down).

I’ll wager I’ve met these moments before, with a wall in the distance and my ego deflated. And I know for a fact that I haven’t gone around climbing any walls. Which means that even just the promise of a wall has been enough to turn me away from any serious attempt (just an attempt!!) to achieve my goals.

You know what, though? Change is here.

I was seriously deflated on Sunday, but as we got closer to home, I was already talking about incorporating long rides into our weekend plans more often; even lugging our bikes on the weekend trips we take to Asheville, N.C., (where there are serious hills … and 12 Bones Smokehouse, where even their sides platter would be the perfect reward for riding those hills).

And in the other moments that I’ve felt overwhelmed recently — climbing in spin class, getting my ass kicked trying to barely keep up in abs class – I’ve carried that self-doubt and frustration, but as if it’s extra weight. As if it’s part of the exercise. There’s usually a moment that I want to drop it and walk away. But I don’t. I haven’t.

I won’t proclaim exactly ”no more laziness for me” (which I nearly did; I wrote it, then I deleted it), because I will have bad days, I will have days where rest seems like a better option than moving (whether or not that’ll be true). But I can say that at least I know I can push past laziness, knock it into the dirt, turn around to trample it with my bike.

What this means to me in the long run is I Don’t Exactly Know What. Because I’ve never pushed far enough to know my true limits, if there are any. I don’t know how I react, or how my body reacts, to climbing over a wall.