Holy sweat city!

So Monday is leg day in the land of Beachbody #MBF (Muscle burns fat), and first of all, let me tell you how overjoyed I was when I saw a text from my sister on the group thread this morning just before 7, saying she hadn’t slept the night before and needed to catch some winks. I jumped right on that train and told the group I would work out later with my sister. I guess today she’s not Persistent Amanda. Today she’s Tired Amanda. And Tired Amanda needs a workout buddy, because doing it alone is the pits. 

So Tired Amanda ended up not being able to work our until after she put her kids to bed, and that worked for me, although I do have to admit that it’s extremely nice to have the workout over and done with before I even start work for the day. It’s kind of like when I worked at McDonald’s the summer I graduated high school and before I went to Germany. I worked 5am-1pm and I was basically a zombie for the first part of the day, but then I took a nap every afternoon and had the majority of the day to do whatever I wanted and it was basically the best thing ever! Also, on a side note, I was a rockstar working front drive through, and they called me SuperKate and gave me a medal because I was so speedy. They don’t even give medals at McDonald’s, but they gave me one! 

Another side story from McDonald’s because I still think it’s hilarious to this day: there was this kid named Noah that worked there, and one day he said, “no offense, but my dog’s name is Katie.” I said, “That’s cool. My last name is Noah.”  He didn’t believe me for the longest time. 😂😂😂

Anyway, excuse my side stories. So my calf muscles have been hurting and warning me that they’re about to jump ship all day, and today is leg day. So I welcomed the extra hours to recover and use my foam roller on those bad boys. I used to get horrible knots in my calf muscles when I played soccer, and then in my twenties I would get them in the middle of the night and they would suddenly wake me up with excruciating pain. I’m so fortunate to have not had that happen in more than ten years, but I’m still extra careful to go easy when I feel those muscles threatening to go old school. 

So yeah. Leg day. Four minutes into it, my quads started to burn like a wildfire, so I had to modify the moves and not lunge quite as low. But the thing kicked my butt regardless, and before long, I was POURING sweat. So. Much. Sweat. I had left my amazing Norwex workout towel (which I one million percent recommend to everyone! If you want to do yourself a favor and buy one, let me know and I’ll give you the link to buy one from my friend’s Norwex party. And yes, I make a commission if you’re wondering. But I only started selling Norwex because I couldn’t stop talking about it.) in the bedroom where Tim was sleeping, like a FOOL! I didn’t realize I would need it so badly! Good thing it was just my sister on FaceTime with me instead of my whole group, because I had to wipe my sweat with my shirt and I don’t love to show people my stomach. If you hunt down my episode of Altar’d, you can see my stomach on there, but I won’t be flashing it around town any time soon. 

Anyway, so now I’m all showered and fresh, with a cat laying on me while I write this, and I am ready to head to bed. After all, I have a 7 a.m. workout group with which to grace my sweaty presence. I REALLY wish I had a pool I could to jump into after workouts.

 

Ready to fight

Nine years ago, when I completely changed my lifestyle and lost a bunch of weight, I swore I would never go back to the way things were before. I honestly believed that I wouldn't, but I was underestimating life. Grief and stress basically used me as bowling pins and continually knocked me over when I was just trying to stand there looking sleek and curvy, the same size as everyone else.

I just went back and read my entire blog. Every post. And while I enjoyed my humor and appreciated how far I've come in just knowing what's good for me and how to eat and the fact that running won't kill me (why was I SO terrified of running?), I noticed that for that last 6 years, I've barely written anything, and like I said in one of those past posts, if I'm not writing, I'm not doing well. Period.

I've known that I was unmotivated for the last 6 years, and I didn't care enough to do much about it. When I was on a weight loss show in 2016, and doing a cross fit challenge at the end of 2018, my heart wasn't there. I went through the programs, because I knew they would help and I was trying to force my mindset, but because I wasn't truly motivated, once they were over, I didn't stick to them. And I couldn't even muster the strength to care that much.

But now I'm 39, and Tim and I want babies, so I know I have to get my life in order and my butt in gear and do something about my health. We haven't gotten pregnant in the three years that we've been hoping we would, so I went to the doctor to figure stuff out, and to get my body to a place where it can carry a child. I'm scared it won't get there, and we want to adopt regardless as well, but while I plead with the Lord to give us babies, I have started to put the smack down (and the snacks down) and do everything in my power to make it possible.

Starting at the end of March, while the world began to isolate and it would have been really easy to stock up on candy and soda and pizza and ice cream, Tim and I committed to a 40-day sugar fast, and I am half proud, half unbelieving, and wholly grateful to say that we stuck it out and finished strong. Weirdly enough, I didn't even have any sugar cravings most of the time, because before we started I was just feeling so gross and done with junk food.

Coming out of the fast, we knew we had to have a plan in place, or we would just end up diving right back into our old habits, and neither of us wants to feel or be so sludgy and unhealthy again. So after some discussion, we agreed on an allowance of three items per week, which means that if we want a soda, that's an item. If we want a donut at church (once that becomes available again), we have to budget for that and have a maximum of two items between Monday and Saturday. Not only does this plan limit the amount of sugar we're putting in our bodies, it also makes us think about what items are actually worth it.

For example, I've never been a huge cake fan, but if it's there, I'll eat it. I don't want to have that mindset, because then "I'll just eat" everything. Where do you draw the line? On the other hand, while I do actually like water and don't mind drinking that most of the time (after my morning vat of iced coffee has been consumed), I really REEEEAAAALLLY love coke and root beer. So one of those bad boys is absolutely worth an item for me, and the limit on items causes me to take my time and actually enjoy the item I have chosen.

For whatever reason, while the eating has been under control for a while, I haven't been working out or even walking almost at all, and I can feel my body slowly turning into one of the White Witch's stone statues Tim and I are currently reading about in the Chronicles of Narnia. I know how dangerous this is, and yet: it remains difficult for me to put on the workout clothes and initiate some type of workout. A couple months ago, I came across a dance-based workout called Figure 8 with Jaana Kunitz, and it looked like so much fun that I bought it. I love dancing, and I need my workouts to be fun if I'm gonna stick with them.

But even with a fun workout, it took me months to start. I bought the workout (streaming from an app that you can play on your smart tv or your phone or tablet, along with the DVDs, in case anyone is interested and wants to go get the workout and do it along with me! Accountability is the best way to do everything, so join me! Buy the workout HERE) on April 5th, and just did Day 1 tonight. They give you an 8 week workout schedule and I am PLEDGING to finish the whole thing. Tomorrow I'm taking beginning body measurements and weight and pictures. For now, I'm just posting this picture of my red, post-exercise cheeks accentuated by this adorable kitten. In 8 weeks, I will be smaller, and he will be bigger. Can't wait for the side-by-side!

Why is my face so red?

My mom has mentioned a few times lately how we Noah children always got really red faces whenever we exercised as kids and it used to freak her out. Especially when we moved to Tucson when I was 13 and we played soccer here. I don't know why she would freak out though... it's not like we were exerting ourselves in 115 evil degree oven-like temperatures or anything. Oh wait...

So I still get that red face when I work out today, no matter how good or bad of shape I'm in. It has nothing to do with being close to heat stroke and death, so there's no longer any need for my mom to freak out, but it sure isn't attractive. I would love to look glowy and beautiful when I work out, but I'm pretty sure I just look like I'm in labor every time. Super confidence-boosting.

Maybe I shouldn't care anymore. I am married now, after all, and my husband thinks I'm gorgeous us and/or adorable no matter what I do. And that's the best feeling ever, and one that I waited a loooooooong time for. One I thought for years I would never experience, and one that I wish for every woman (and man, for that matter!).

But it's nice to feel confident in how I look, and a red face simply isn't my top choice in glamour.  I took this photo just now. The redness has faded quite a bit, but I got home from the gym TWO HOURS ago!

Oh, but hey... did I mention I went to the gym tonight? So the awesome red face is worth it. Since my last post, I've gained a Monday night gym buddy, and we've gone to a yoga class together three times. I like that instead of saying, "oh yeah! Let's meet at the gym sometimes," we committed to a certain class on a specific night. Having a class to be there for keeps us going more consistently. 

And also, it's disheartening because it's showing me just how out of shape I am. It's good to have that as a starting point though, and I want to remember that feeling, because even in three weeks with only a little effort, I've made progress. I did better in class tonight than I have the previous two weeks, and I'm looking forward to the day that my stomach isn't in the way and I don't fall over during balance poses, and my body can move with more ease.

I feel like I should be doing more to lose weight, but I know that taking my puppy for walks and doing this yoga class are a pretty good start. I have a busy schedule and it's hard to fit in workouts, so I'm starting small, and I'll add things in as I go along. Maybe it's just time to embrace that red face.
 

The Color Run strikes again

Three times I have signed up for the Color Run.  Three times upon signing up for the Color Run, I have sworn that I would be able to run the whole thing.  Three times I have failed.  But I'm not giving up.

Last weekend, Rocio and I braved the early early early early morning and headed to Dodger Stadium, where we fogged (fake jogged... it's totally a real thing) our way through a 3.1 mile course dotted with five stations of colored cornstarch that transformed our white shirts into a mash-up of different hues.

And this time there were hills.

The first two color runs we did were completely flat courses, but not Dodger Stadium.  Straight out of the gate, we were headed uphill, and my already unimpressive endurance was cut down dramatically by the onslaught of a mountain tall enough to intimidate even the hikiest of hikers.  Okay, that might be a little bit of an exaggeration.  Or maybe even entirely false.  Okay, so really it's just a normal hill, not even as steep as my driveway (which is crazy steep, for the record.), but when I get winded walking up hills, you can bet that running sure isn't gonna happen.

And then, once we had gone downhill for a little bit, there were all these switchbacks, making us go back up.  So I just stuck to the fogging on the downhill segments and trudged my way up on the torture uphill portions.  It was a pretty good system.  It got me to the end at least.

Since there had to be hills, I was extra grateful for the clouds that made the sun less brutal.  Our first color run was miserably hot.  I would do hills with cloud cover over a straight course in mid-afternoon under an unrelenting sun any day!

Oh, and I've lost 5 pounds since my last blog post. HALLELUJAH!

I WILL fully run a 5K soon.

Thanks to my mom and Costco

You know what rules?  Costco.  You know why?  Because my mom and God said so!  Okay, so maybe God didn't say that Costco rules, but that's the phrase I used to win arguments when I was a kid.  My mom would never support anything that God disagreed with, so if she said it, it HAD to be right.  Who can argue with THAT logic? 

I wasn't trying to be manipulative.  I was just stating facts.

This is a fact: my mom loooooooves Costco.  Once, when I was 19 and my friend Jane and I got jobs together doing customer service for AT&T, we were filling out all the paperwork with a bunch of other hirees and the form asked for our parents' address.  Jane leaned over, pointed at that question on mine and whispered, "you should put Costco."

Fast forward two years, and my friend Kelli and I were giving everyone we knew ridiculous nicknames.  She and I combined are Christmas, but with a lisp, so it's actually Krithmith.  We gave out names like Fireplace, Brick, Fence and Birthday.  Take a wild guess at  what we named my mom.

Yep.  My mom was Costco.

You can't really blame the woman... Costco has great deals on everything you could possibly imagine, except diapers.  They sell them, but they're no cheaper there than anywhere else.  I don't even know why I know that, but I do.  Besides, my mom doesn't have any babies, and her grandbabies wear cloth diapers, so that non-savings item doesn't even affect her.  Why am I talking about diapers?  Maybe I should stop writing in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping.  Haha, yeah right.  That'll never happen.

As Nacho Libre would say, anyhwaaaaysss...

My sister had a baby last week, and my parents drove out to be with her and help out for a month or so.  On the way up to San Luis Obispo where my sister lives, they stopped in LA and spent a few days with their other children.  And they brought gifts.

I got an exercise shirt, from Costco of course, and a pair of Jeep brand shoes which may or may not be from Costco.  I'm really not sure. 

When I went up to be with my sister for the birth and recovery time in the hospital, we all went to Costco and my mom bought me some new exercise pants!  They are reversible and have a little hidden pocket in the waistband.  The prices are great, at $13 for the shirt and $17 for the pants.  That is quite a bit lower than the clothes I've been finding when looking for good workout clothes.

Before the new Costco pants, I only had one pair of pants that I liked to work out in.  I have bigger pairs from my fatter days, but I hate wearing those when I'm working out because I honestly just feel like I'm jiggling all over the place, which is a rotten feeling.  I need to wear the size that fits properly, which right now is a large.  Another rotten feeling is being poor and not being able to buy good workout pants because at other places they're $25-$40. 

Today I went to the gym and realized I was wearing all three of the items my mom bought for me.

Thanks for the new workout clothes, mom!  I'll be using them double time because I didn't work out at all the whole week I was taking care of my sister post-c-section and now I'm looking bloated.  Nothing some new gym clothes and time at 24-Hour Fitness can't cure!

The return of The Ginormostairs

I have decided that The Ginormostairs is the official name of the large set of stairs at school. They need a title that presents them to the public as the formidable foe of the out-of-shape that they are, and a name like The Ginormostairs demands a certain amount of respect and awe that one does not automatically grant at the mention of mere stairs.

Upon my return to school this Monday, I was glad to be greeted by this friendly giant that kicked my butt into gear last September and inspired the exit of the forty pounds I have since lost. I smiled knowingly and with compassion at those out-of-breathers lugging themselves up as I descended gracefully and swiftly down the 185 stairs (I used to park at the lot at the top of only 138 of the stairs, but now I park at the very top). I knew I wouldn't be quite so swift on the way back.

I haven't been at school since mid-December, so the trek up the stairs would be a good indication of my fitness level. It's not like I climb that many stairs anywhere else, so there hasn't been a whole lot of stair climbing since school ended. I was pleased with how easy it was. I was still breathing heavily at the top, but I was thinking about that first day last semester and how I had to stop halfway up and drink a bunch of water. It was also over 100 degrees that day, but still. I was horribly out of shape. This week, I DID have to the stop at stair 132, but only to take a picture of this sign that made me laugh rather loudly:



Today, as I neared the top of The Ginormostairs, a skinny girl was only a few steps behind me, breathing quite heavily, and when I flashed her the "these stairs are NUTS!" look (it's a universally understood look at Pierce College), she said, "This is a workout!" I agreed, and decided not to tell her how much I appreciate said workout and how it changed my life. Not everyone wants to hear my story, even though I want everyone to heed my message: LET'S ALL BE HEALTHY!!!! If I can do it, so can you!

Thanksgiving didn't kill me: A post from the gym

I was a little worried about Thanksgiving. All that delicious food taunting me all weekend certainly held the potential to completely derail me and all the progress I've made, and I wasn't taking the threat lightly. I am not willing to let food overpower me any longer.

You should have seen my turkey plate: I was pretty proud of my self control. I didn't leave anything out (besides the green beans, which you couldn't pay me to eat), but took small servings of everything. So small were the servings that I could see plate in between each item. I actually didn't think it would be enough food, but my stomach is considerably smaller than it used to be, and I have to get used to eating a lot less. I keep taking too much food these days because I can't eat as much as I used to! I don't finish the excess either, which is hard for me. But on Thursday, the small amount of food I took was the perfect amount! The rest of the weekend wasn't bad foodwise... I didn't eat as much salad as I would have liked, and I ate more bread than I usually do, but I kept the servings small and included exercise in each day.

Most importantly, a weekend away from my usual routine didn't ruin my mindset. In the past, I have been on track for a time until something throws me off and gets me back into the comfort of the old lifestyle... You know, the lifestyle that makes me miserable. But this time was different. I came home today with a need to go to the gym. I could feel the call of the elliptical echoing in my very soul. And my desire to eat healthfully is off the charts!

It was great seeing friends in Tucson this weekend and being encouraged by the comments on my progress! Next time I visit, there will be even less of me!

Zumba, followed by deliciousness

On Thursday I went to Disneyland and did lots of walking, but that was only the precursor to the workout of the day. I left the happiest place on Earth at 4:00 in order to get the the Zumba class at 6:00, but traffic in L.A. is pretty atrocious, so of course I ran a little late. I was pulling into the gym parking lot at about 5 after, when I got a text from Liz telling me to see if I could just walk into the class anyway, even though I was late and wouldn't have a pass. That's not normally something I would even try to do (just call me a rule follower... it's not a bad thing), but I did, and it worked out fine. After changing my clothes, I was only fifteen minutes late to the class, and I was so happy about not only getting to experience zumba, but also about not leaving Liz hanging.

It would be easy to feel stupid going into a class like zumba when you've never been before and you don't know the steps and when you're as fat as I am and feel self conscious in workout clothes (or in any clothes, for that matter). Surprisingly though, I was only excited. Excited to have a workout partner that I really love, excited to finally be doing this form of exercise that I know I'll enjoy and be able to stick to, and excited that sweating was about to get FUN! I catch on pretty quickly with dancey stuff, and I didn't feel too self conscious because I'm pretty sure every woman (and the one guy who was making me laugh pretty hard) was only focused on herself and whether or not SHE looked stupid! Also, I think I may be caring less and less about what people think as I get older. Oh goodness, I sound like an old woman. Whatever, I've already been knitting for 22 years, it's not like I'm opposed to seeming old-womanly.

After 45 minutes of extreme sweating, laughing, and trying not to fall over during the end stretching period (maybe I should look into some yoga classes), Liz invited me to her house to taste a green smoothie that she has discovered and really enjoys. It's very healthful and delicious, which is a favorable combination, and I will be purchasing the ingredients soon and drinking them daily. For the curious and the brave (not really... it just looks a little bit like algae), here is the recipe:

Green Monster

Ingredients:
1 cup almond milk, or milk of choice
1 ripe banana
2 handfuls of spinach
1 tbsp ground flax
1 tbsp almond butter
1-3 Ice cubes
Cinnamon


Directions: Starting with the liquid, add in 1 cup of milk of your choice. Now add in the flax and nut butter. Next, add in the spinach followed by the banana on top. Blend until smooth. Add in your ice cubes and blend some more. Serves 1 (about 2 cups). Top with cinnamon.


I am looking forward to next Thursday, but in the meantime, I expect those ginormostairs to be easier when I face them again on Monday!