Inch by inch

After working out excessively for weeks, the scale hasn't moved a bit. Oh sure, I haven't changed my diet much, but seriously, as much as I've sweated, I would expect to weigh less. But no. I am obsessive about weighing--sometimes daily--and I've gained and lost the same two pounds for the past six weeks.

Luckily I did my measurements nearly a month ago, and yesterday, after the great race debacle and subsequent depression, I decided to re-do them to see if there was any progress.

Turns out I'm six inches smaller. In a month. So maybe I weight the same, but my thighs, butt, abs and arms are showing progress.

So yay me! Bring it on, summer.

Obsessed

As anyone who's seen my closet can attest, I am more than a bit compulsive. My entire master bedroom closet is arranged via the ROYGBV color scheme. My clothes are all facing the same way. I can find any piece of clothing I need within three seconds.

While you may find that to be textbook OCD behavior, I argue that I'm just hyper organized. It is difficult, however, to excuse my behavior as merely pragmatic when I find myself freaking out if an errant sweater somehow gets hung in the wrong place. The nervous tic begins, and I have to straighten everything before I can move on to another task.

I'm not quite sure how I choose what to obsess over and what to merely allow. I wish, for example, I were more serious about my savings account. I should be more concerned with balancing my checkbook, but I seldom worry over it until just before payday, when I have to make sure it actually has a positive balance.

So it's not always the things that are good for me that become fixations. But lately, I have succumbed to an obsession I never thought I'd experience: I have become an exercise fanatic.

It started innocently enough. My vanity and need to fit into skinny jeans begat treadmill time. My cousin Lonnie's mocking and saying I'd never be able to run a 5K led to my pushing past my shin splints and training for a race. But it was never fun. I never liked it; I just found it to be a necessary evil.

And while I don't claim to have experienced a runner's high or spend the day looking forward to working out, I have become obsessed with the results. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. today and, instead of going back to bed like a normal person, got up and went to the gym to spend an hour on the elliptical machine. Then I went for a run tonight after work.

When I skip a day, I find myself feeling guilty. I want to be burning calories at all times. I mentally plan running routes in the shower. I find myself doing crunches while watching TV. I do yoga in the middle of the day at my office.

In other words, I've officially gone crazy. Somebody pass me a piece of cheesecake and tell me to chill.

Gym Dandy

After months of elusiveness, it finally happened: I saw my belly button.

Long hidden between my first and second belly fat rolls, I looked down tonight after an hour at the gym to find my muffin top has been reduced from massive to merely normal sized. There's been sweat, tears, and a little blood, but perhaps the excessive exercise is starting to pay off. And yes, I still have hail damage on my thighs, but it's not as wide-spread as before. I'm also happy to report that when I put on my sports bra, little or no back fat spills out the sides.

Ah, exercise, thou art a necessary evil.

No worries. Even though I can now look down and see my navel, I won't be showing it to you anytime soon. No matter how flat my ab muscles may become, I'm way too old to be baring my midriff. You're welcome.

Show some class, cover your_____

Unlike some chicks, I actually go to the gym to exercise. Seriously, if you want to be scantily clad and flirt with random men, why don't you head to a bar?

Today I braved the elements and headed to the gym to walk off some of the extra calories consumed during this blizzard. I found myself walking on the track behind a woman whose shorts were probably all of three inches long. To be fair, she was in great shape. But she was also older than me and holding hands with a man old enough to be her father.

Lady, nobody wants to see your butt cheeks. Cover 'em up and take Daddy home for a private workout.

Bore, boring, bored

After only leaving my house three or four times in the past eight days, I've officially succumbed to cabin fever. I know, I know... no one feels sorry for the gal who works in her pajamas, and I found it a fabulous life for most of the week, but today I find myself talking aloud to no one and wandering aimlessly through my house. Granted, I could clean or exercise or do some much-needed work, but none of those things have happened, and probably won't.

Instead, I find myself sitting in front of the television for hours, watching professional football games that are over by the end of the first quarter. Taking long naps. Hot baths. And eating everything in sight.

After weeks of denial, I finally stepped on the scale this morning. Granted, it wasn't as bad as I expected, but I have put on 14 pounds in the past two months, and all of my pants are too tight.

So today's the last day of sloth. Better eating starts tomorrow, as does exercise. I actually purchased "Dancing with the Stars" cardio workout DVD last week since I love to dance and hate to exercise, but I'm guessing I'll make it about five minutes before passing out from my paso doble.

I also ordered a cool little gadget called a FitBook, recommended by work Jennifer (AKA Pam).

This is the first weekend in three months I haven't had plans, and I don't like it. Must. Get. A. Life.

Going stir crazy.

You know I'd walk a thousand miles if I could just see the TV

Turns out my treadmill obsession has resulted in two casualties. But when you consider I've walked about 1,000 miles on that thing in the past year, I suppose it was bound to happen. Why can't all of my thigh dimples have been lost in the cause?

Last night, during a bout of insomnia around 2 a.m., my bedroom television went bonkers. Thankfully by unplugging my TV and the cable box, I was able to reset the hard drive this afternoon and it resumed its usual clarity. For now. Knock on wood. I actually had heart palpitations when the picture went awry. Because if I can't watch Clinton and Stacy mock bad clothing choices whilst exercising like a hamster on a wheel, I surely will avoid exercise even more than I usually do.

I did, however, replace my running shoes today. (Which I use for walking. Shut up.) I figure those shoes are one of the few things in the entirety of my life that I've actually gotten my (or someone else's) money's worth out of. They still look good due to excessive indoor exposure, but the arches have broken down a bit and they're making my feet hurt. But I don't want to take any chances, so I'll be getting a pedicure tomorrow, just in case.

The one thing I avoid more than working out these days? Working. Number of hours I should have worked when I got home tonight = >2. Number of hours I actually worked when I got home tonight = 0. I did, however, leave the office after 6 p.m. But I also came in late, went shopping at lunch, and got a massage.

Tomorrow's the second Board meeting in less than a month and I'm not sure how to say anything different than I said three weeks ago. But since most of them were asleep during that riveting presentation, I suppose I could just regurgitate old info. And since I didn't get my PowerPoint or video done tonight, I guess it's an early morning.

But the good news is it's football season, the weather is gorgeous, and I'm in a happy mood. Plus, I'm super excited that my BFF Alisa will be in Rogers for three days next week and we are hitting the town for food and frivolity. And I (hopefully) get to stay with Kelly.

Life is awesome.

Snug as a slug

It's been a whole week since I've done any sort of physical activity. Granted, a year ago that wouldn't have seemed so strange. But given what a freak I've been about exercise in the past few months, that's unheard of. I refuse to gain back the weight I've lost.

Yesterday I called in sick and slept all day (actually, I emailed in sick... does anyone call in sick anymore?). I'm not sure if I was warding off a sinus infection or just paying for too many nights of not enough sleep, but after two doses of Nyquil and seven hours of napping, I feel as good as new. I was also able to clean off hours of stuff from my DVR, so when the new television season starts, I should be good to go. It's strange how much pressure I feel when that thing begins to fill up and I see "about a day" left on some of the shows I record.

Tonight I brutally cleaned out my closet and got rid of anything I can no longer wear. It always pains me to give up pricey clothes, but I realized last week that having things altered is nearly as expensive as buying new stuff. So now I have two trash bags full of clothes that I'm sending to some friends who have a non-profit organization for young women. At least I feel like my seldom-worn clothes are going to good use. I'm purging them lest I feel the need to gain back into them. Of course, if I continue to lay around like a slug and not exercise, my new clothes may get too tight.

This is all the stuff I took out of my closet.



I've already bought my first pair of boots this season. And football is on TV. Fall can officially begin!

Top chef, Johnson

As my friend Sorne would say, I love to eat more than I hate to exercise. But lately, I've been doing too much of the former and too little of the latter.

Tonight the folks from our advertising agency took me out to dinner to celebrate our big enrollment week (80 new students... wahoo!). It was my maiden voyage to James at the Mill and trust me, friends, it lived up to all the hype.

Dinner was an event. We met at 5:30 and finished around 8 p.m. But hey... it was work related, right?

Crab cake



Yummy steak



Dessert: warm chocolate cake



Alas, I did not meet Stacy London today. The sweet student did call and invite me to her office for a private meet and greet, but I'd already scheduled meetings, so work once again got in the way of my celebrity stalking. When she called, the student did tell me that Stacy was very tiny in person, and very sweet and funny. I'm glad she wasn't disappointed in her like I usually am when I meet famous people.

I think I've got a sinus infection coming on. Sore throat, sniffles, headache, sinus pressure... yuck. I do not want to get sick. But I have only one meeting in the morning, so if there's a good day to rest, tomorrow would be it.

I'm still stuffed. Need to walk 10 miles but have too many files to sort through and too many GPAs to figure. My life is so glamorous.

(There will be pics, but stupid Gmail is down. Grrr.)

My loss

I have to admit, I've gotten a bit obsessive about working out. I'm far from loving the actual act of exercise, but I love what it's doing to my body. Last week I uncovered my ab muscles. Not since Columbus has a discovery been so surprising and yet major. So that's what was under all the fat for all those years...

Last summer I had all but given up on looking good. Yeah, I still paid $25 for a hair cut, but I didn't care if I had a tan since covering up my fat was a full-time job. I couldn't walk a flight of stairs without getting winded and my jeans gave me gas, but I had just passed my 35th birthday and found that Oreos taste great and exercise sucks.

Then I met the boy, and I was so mad at myself for having poor self-esteem because of the way that I looked. So I took the clothes off the treadmill and started to walk. And now, seven months later, I'm 30 pounds lighter and two sizes smaller. Not to mention more confident. It's sad that it took a man to motivate me, but even if that boy never becomes my manfriend, he got me off my butt and taking better care of myself. I feel better. I look better (heck, even the girls are noticing!). And I'll probably live longer.

I heard last weekend that NutriSystems paid Larry the Cable Guy a million bucks to lose 50 pounds. Where do I sign up? Git-r-done indeed.

Big time

Those of you who are faithful readers of the Drivel will recall last summer, when I came home from San Francisco, I made a vow to lose some weight. So I joined Weight Watchers, lost 20 pounds, and began to work out faithfully. I had every intention of losing 20 more and running in a 5K this spring. I was on the right path until I started the moving process and began to reverse the progress.

I'm not quite sure how it happened. Three pounds here, four pounds there, but suddenly I find myself as fat as I was last summer in CA. I've been in denial. I haven't stepped on a scale in months, but my clothes are suddenly too tight.

Soon after I moved to Siloam I bought a treadmill. At that point it was too cold to walk outside, so I bought the treadmill in good faith, sure that I would use it daily. It took me six weeks to put the thing together. Last week I plugged it in for the first time. This weekend I turned it on. Yesterday I actually walked on it.

I can't figure out why I'm not more motivated. There are stories in every magazine about people who are losing weight, working out, and feeling great. Real people, not just celebrities, who lost weight with willpower and determination instead of plastic surgery.

I've eaten an entire package of Oreos in two days.

So now I've started reading "What the Bible Says About Healthy Living." Perhaps I'll find some spiritual guidance to help me on my quest to actually wear shorts this summer, never mind a bathing suit. I need divine intervention.

This afternoon I rearranged some furniture in order to move the treadmill into my bedroom. I'm hoping that staring at it daily will shame me into getting on the thing. It will probably become a clothes rack. But at least I have to look at it now, instead of just closing the door to that extra room.

Ugh. Why does food taste so good? Why is it so much easier to eat junk than to eat healthy? Why am I obsessed with eating?