Keeping On.....Keeping On

So the 40th birthday came and went. I had a great time with family and friends. I ate some good foods and a lot of not-so-good foods. But despite not sticking to my clean eating completely I didn't gain any weight and I did some pretty amazing things.

First of all I sent the left-over birthday cake home with one of my son's friends, also kept the celebratory drinks to a minimum, and continued to try and make decent food choices. All this being said I only exercised twice last week and even took the stance that it was my birthday so I could relax.

What the hell was that all about? I started my 40th year, the year of the "new me", by giving myself the week off of exercise! Obviously, I have some work to do in regards to changing my view of exercise. I have to celebrate the fact that my body can move. There are MANY overweight people in their 40's who can't even make it to the end of the driveway without sucking for air.

I was really upset with myself. And when I get upset with myself I shut down, draw the curtains, and put on my best "pity-party" mix tape. Which is how I got fat in the first place. Luckily, I received two gift certificates to get new running shoes. So Sunday I hauled my sorry ass to Go Run and bought some new shoes.

They are a very spiffy aqua blue with hot pink highlights. They are made for cross training and silent ridicule if I don't use them on a regular basis. So Monday night I went to the gym with my youngest son. It was SO busy. I have never been to the gym right after work and I guarantee I never will again. I attempted my run/walk workout but stopped the running part half-way. I was embarrassed by attempting to jog while thinner/faster runners whizzed past me.

So I left the gym with my tail between my legs. I tried to give myself the pep talk that at least I went, but my new found inner gym diva was screaming, "YOU SUCK!" Today was my strength/weight training class. I screwed up during today's class by not getting heavy enough weights for my biceps. So in my mind the entire workout was worthless. Now the fact that I was drenched in sweat and tired as hell should have been an indicator that I had worked hard. But, in my head I had blew it.

What is this all about? Why am I being so hard on myself when deep down I know I am doing good? Because it is easier for me to fail than to think I might actually succeed. Sad but true. I understand failure. I know how it feels. I have seen in it my education, marriages, and parenting. But, what happens if I succeed? It is the fear of the unknown. Even if the unknown can only be positive.

Confession of a Twinkie Addict

My name is Cindy Strotkamp and I am fat. I know this probably a shock to those of you who haven't seen me in person since 1994. Or 1998 when I had another "skinny" period. But it's true.

Facebook is one of the greatest and worst things to come about in recent history. I love keeping in touch with people and finding old friends. But there is the whole "picture" issue. People want to see how you look, what your kids look like, is there a spouse, do you travel? And to them I say, "Mind your own business!" Just kidding! I love looking through my friend's pictures as well. It's just that whole fear of being judged by people who have obviously done a much better job of taking care of themselves.

I am still working on this insecurity. You'll notice my profile picture is rarely a picture of myself. And if it is a picture of me it has been creatively cropped for maximum flattery. Most of the time I am able to convince myself that I am really not "that" overweight. Sure I wear size 18 pants and sure I like to take pictures with my hand over my neck so that no one can see my various chins. But I am just chubby.

One of my favorite stories about my weight is when I went to my doctor about 7 years ago to talk to her about trying a diet medication. She asked me what my goal was and this was my brilliant reply, "I find that about 135lbs is an easy weight for me to maintain." She just looked at me. If it was so "easy for me to maintain" then why hadn't I seen that weight since 1994?

So I needed to get real with myself. Having a heart attack scare was a good start, but I also had to look at other factors. Does my weight keep me from doing things I want to do? ABSOLUTELY! I didn't go to my high school reunion. I don't take pictures with my children. I don't like going to new places or trying new things for fear of how my weight might hold me back. It's a lonely existence. And I am completely fed up with it!

And it is because of this new resolve that I started making changes. I started drinking more water. Then I started making food changes. Some simple like eating greek yogurt and a banana for breakfast and other harder changes like no dessert in the evenings. Ouch! It hurts to write that even now. I was a die hard "sweets before bed" girl. Now if I am dieing for something sweet I have a bowl of cereal or a few Coffee Nipps. The Nipps are only 30 calories each they do a great job of curbing my sweet tooth.

I just started keeping track of my calories two weeks ago. I finally felt like I was ready to take that step. It's scary looking at the number of calories you take in each day. So I don't recommend starting with this or doing it at all. I know that goes against every diet plan on the planet but if you work hard at eating right and only eating when your truly hungry you shouldn't need to count calories. So why am I? It goes back to my "perception" problem. So when my weight lifting and eating right didn't produce weight loss then I began to wonder how many calories I was taking in daily. So the calorie counting isn't to hold myself to a strict rule, because I won't stick to rules. Ask my parents. It's just to make me aware of how many calories I take in each day so that I can make a better choice in order to lose weight. And it's working.

So make one change this week. And once that change is no longer a "change" and it becomes how you live, then make another. Do not make a bunch of rules for yourself. Just make a daily choice to make one change. If one day doesn't go so well don't give up. It's just one day.

I want everyone on earth to feel the way I did a few weeks ago. For whatever reason I have always wanted to be called a runner. I have wanted to strap on my tennis shoes and just take off with my iPhone singing in my ears and forget everything. The only problem being that I can't run. Or at least I thought I couldn't.

After weight lifting and strength training for eight weeks I thought I would try to run. A friend told me about an iPhone app that  followed the Couch to 5K program. The first workout was 30 minutes long. Starting with a 5 minute warm up and then run for 1 minute and walk for 90 seconds. The first minute run I was pretty sure I was having an asthma attack. Of course I don't have asthma. But why else would I be wheezing so damn loud. But I kept going. The next run came and I did it. I thanked God out loud when I got to start walking again. And this kept going until my phone told me it was time for the cool down. I DID IT! I did the whole feakin' workout! I couldn't believe it. I called my friend Mandi Twist on the way home crying. It was AWESOME! My son Jake had ran the whole thing with me for encouragement. He later admitted he was worried I was going to pass out.

I hope I never stop having moments like that one. I had achieved something I thought I could NEVER do.

Twinkie Eulogy

A year ago the thought of Twinkies no longer existing would have caused a serious panic attack. I could envision myself loading the back of my minivan with all the available Twinkies in the Wichita area.

I had a serious love for the Twinkie. In fact I loved them so much that I wouldn't buy them. I literally couldn't control myself. I would stash them in the refrigerator, they are fantastic cold, and eat one after another. If someone was around I would eat just three. If I was alone then four or five. People used to buy them for me as gifts. I even had someone give me Twinkie pajama pants. 

But, the desire for Twinkies and other complete crap "foods" ended last November. I had forgotten my blood pressure medicine for several days, well honestly I just hadn't made the time to pick it up. Anywhoo, I was at work and all of the sudden I had this horrible pain in my left chest. It radiated down my arm and up into my neck. Suddenly, I found myself in the midst of a hypertension crisis. 

I went to my boss who happens to be a close friend and in a tear filled panic told her what was going on. She whisked me off to the ER and soon I was in a hospital gown, sucking on nitroglycerin, and being taken back for a CT of my chest.

My labs looked good except for my elevated blood glucose, but they were still concerned enough that they thought I should have a heart cath to check for a blockage. This requires a catheter to be inserted into the artery in your right wrist all the way up the arm and into your heart. Once it is there the doctor  shoots dye into your heart while x-rays are taken to check for any problems.

I was in shock. I couldn't believe this was happening. How could I call my boys and tell them their mom might have had a heart attack? I was a mess. My friend called my sister to let her know what was going on and she called my parents. I called my boys and down played the situation, but they aren't little kids anymore, and I found out later just how scared they were.

I cried to God. Please let me be ok. Please give me one more chance to change the way I treat my body before they have to crack my chest open. My father had his first heart attack at age 40 and I was only a few months from my 40th birthday. My grandparents, and uncles had open heart surgery. My beloved Aunt Linda had even died in her late 30's from a heart attack. But, I had still abused my body with food, a sedentary lifestyle, and extreme stress.

The heart cath turned out good. No blockages and no apparent damage to my heart. They believe my pain was from my blood pressure being dangerously elevated.

The days after this nightmare were filled with a lot of anxiety and regret. I felt horrible for putting my family through the experience and I knew all of it was completely avoidable. Here I was almost 40, 70lbs overweight, and my idea of exercise was walking the stairs up to our office Monday thru Friday.

So now back to the Twinkies. I would love to say that the experience of being literally strapped to a surgical bed and having a doctor play hide and seek with my arteries changed me immediately but it's not that easy. When you spend your adult life stuffing your face with all the addictive man made "foods" you can't just stop.

It is just like being an alcoholic or drug addict. My body actually craved fat, sugar, and the chemicals that are found in these foods. I would get pissed off. Seriously, I wasn't irritated that I couldn't have a whole carton of ice cream, I was furious. Ask my kids. If we were at the grocery store and I picked up some cookies they would tell me to put them back and all hell would break loose. I didn't scream or yell. I just went into the full out, "I am your mother!" lecture. They in turn broke out the "So you want to have a heart attack!" lecture and I would put them back. But I was so incredibly mad!

So what finally clicked? I honestly have no idea. Friends at work started going to an exercise class on Tuesday and Thursdays so I went once. Then I went again. And I kept going. Then I started to like it. I loved the way my muscles hurt for days after we had lifted weights. And slowly I started to feel strong.

I hate cardio so I started talking to friends about lifting more weights. I also started making small diet changes. I drank more water. I try to get at least 48 oz per day. My goal is to get a solid 64 oz per day. 

Then I started really looking at the food I buy.I started my buying hormone free milk. Then cage free eggs. Soon I was getting organic chicken and buying more fresh veggies. Then I found myself eating more fruit and trying new things like whey protien.

This is a slow process and no one should feel like they need to change everything at once. You will just set yourself up for failure. So if I could advise you on what you should do first I recommend you start lifting weights. You not only get stronger, you also burn calories long after your workout. The second thing you should do is measure yourself and avoid the scale. Look at your "non-scale victories". I see a lot of people talk about this on various blogs. Don't measure your progress on the scale more than twice a month. The rest of the time focus on daily accomplishments. Like drinking all your water or avoiding the cookies a co-worker brought in today. And remember when your building muscle the scale is the worst measure of success because muscle weighs more than fat. So if you measure your waist, thighs, and arms you can see the inches you loose instead of the pounds.

I like the fact that my children are eating better and that I have them to hold me accountable. I now workout five times a week. Cardio is not my arch nemesis anymore. It's safe to say I am addicted to the sweat which is much better than my previous addiction to Twinkies.