I was so tired yesterday. So tired that after five hours of sleep the night before I went home from work and slept for four more hours. Then I cleaned and baked and supped (not necessarily in that order) and again, got six hours of sleep. Oh my. I think I needed that.
I've written about my sleep habits before. I tend to get 5-6 hours of sleep on weeknights and then sleep like crazy on the weekend. Part of me loves this, but then I wonder how much happier I would be if I was getting more sleep each weeknight. I'm stubborn and it's hard so then I say "I don't wanna." I don't want to go to bed at 8:30 p.m. to get eight hours of sleep. I don't want to give up my time with the SO or my time just hanging out on facebook to get adequate sleep. Often I'm not doing anything of importance at 8:30 p.m., just watching a TV show or something, but goodness knows, I don't wanna go to bed so early!
After the Thanksgiving weekend, I may have to adjust. It's dark out, so I can't claim it's too light to sleep. What really is going on later than 8:30 p.m. that I need to stay up for? So, it will be a test. How much more energy will I have, how much better will I feel, if I get quality sleep every night instead of two out of five?
Then, speaking of Thanksgiving, what's your plan? Mine is to sample what I want, leave what I don't, and just enjoy family and friends. You?
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
I hurt
I'm a hurting unit today. It's bad. Really bad. Like, I had trouble sleeping last night because of all of the pain going on in my legs bad. And I couldn't take ibuprofen because I had a drink with tequila and I don't want to ruin my liver.
I'm not quite sure what it is. I worked out a decent amount yesterday, but I only pushed myself a LITTLE harder than I have been. I didn't run more, I ran less, actually. Only two miles. But, man! I stretched. I drank lots of water. I did walk around the mall for another hour while I was waiting for tires to be put on my truck, but c'mon! I've done that before! My shoes aren't new, but they aren't old by any means. They have less than 50 miles on them. Oh boy. If you have any ideas, please let me know.
Definite lack of sleep last night. I woke up later than normal yesterday because I had the day off, but not crazy late. And then I kept waking up. And kept waking up. And the the cats were crazy. I sound like Mr. Scrooge today, don't I? At 3:30 a.m. I finally got up because I had to wake up in a hour anyway. I thought I'd just go in to work early. I sat down on the beautiful wonderful couch in the living room and my eyelids felt heavy. Of course, as soon as I laid down it took me 45 minutes to get to sleep. So instead of going to work early, I came to work late. I'm staying late, and I'll be here SUPER early tomorrow morning.
So my plan today: Walk on the mill for at least twenty minutes. I know it seems counter intuitive, but I think a nice slow pace might stretch my muscles and get some lactic acid worked out. A good supper, spaghetti and italian sausage! Woo-hoo! Move (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix anyone) and bed. Sweet sweet bed. Wish me luck!
I'm not quite sure what it is. I worked out a decent amount yesterday, but I only pushed myself a LITTLE harder than I have been. I didn't run more, I ran less, actually. Only two miles. But, man! I stretched. I drank lots of water. I did walk around the mall for another hour while I was waiting for tires to be put on my truck, but c'mon! I've done that before! My shoes aren't new, but they aren't old by any means. They have less than 50 miles on them. Oh boy. If you have any ideas, please let me know.
Definite lack of sleep last night. I woke up later than normal yesterday because I had the day off, but not crazy late. And then I kept waking up. And kept waking up. And the the cats were crazy. I sound like Mr. Scrooge today, don't I? At 3:30 a.m. I finally got up because I had to wake up in a hour anyway. I thought I'd just go in to work early. I sat down on the beautiful wonderful couch in the living room and my eyelids felt heavy. Of course, as soon as I laid down it took me 45 minutes to get to sleep. So instead of going to work early, I came to work late. I'm staying late, and I'll be here SUPER early tomorrow morning.
So my plan today: Walk on the mill for at least twenty minutes. I know it seems counter intuitive, but I think a nice slow pace might stretch my muscles and get some lactic acid worked out. A good supper, spaghetti and italian sausage! Woo-hoo! Move (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix anyone) and bed. Sweet sweet bed. Wish me luck!
Monday, November 15, 2010
I smiled
I was sweaty and hot and the lactic acid was slowly building up in my muscles, but I was smiling. I don't really know why. I was twenty minutes into a thirty-five minute run and suddenly, it wasn't tortuous. I could feel my muscles working together to keep me on that treadmill. I could feel my breath come, not in great gasps, but smooth and deep, like it used to.
It was amazing. It felt like the work I've been putting in the last few weeks was completely worth it, even though I haven't lost one darn pound yet. I struggled so hard to get to where I was, and the a couple of months of not putting in the effort and I felt like I was back to the beginning. I know it's not true. My body couldn't handle 1-3 mile runs when I first started chasing this crazy dream of mine two years ago. Slowly it's become capable of me pushing it harder and faster.
The plan is to keep running three milers, build my speed a little (ok, a lot, I'm crazy slow), and then, goodness gracious, move to a10K. I've run 6 miles before, I know I can do it, but the thought of doing it causes my slowlygettingstronger heart to pitter patter in a way I'm uncomfortable with. This is where mind over matter comes into play. My body is getting strong enough again. Find some missing parts to a weight machine in our house and I can start doing weights on my off days and it will get even stronger. Mentally I have a hurdle to overcome. I know that my 10-race plan will help with that immensely. After a couple more hopefully I won't feel as much like the noob that I am and my mind will get wrapped around the fact that this is possible. You know what's after a 10K, right? Oh yes. 13.1 miles.
It was amazing. It felt like the work I've been putting in the last few weeks was completely worth it, even though I haven't lost one darn pound yet. I struggled so hard to get to where I was, and the a couple of months of not putting in the effort and I felt like I was back to the beginning. I know it's not true. My body couldn't handle 1-3 mile runs when I first started chasing this crazy dream of mine two years ago. Slowly it's become capable of me pushing it harder and faster.
The plan is to keep running three milers, build my speed a little (ok, a lot, I'm crazy slow), and then, goodness gracious, move to a10K. I've run 6 miles before, I know I can do it, but the thought of doing it causes my slowlygettingstronger heart to pitter patter in a way I'm uncomfortable with. This is where mind over matter comes into play. My body is getting strong enough again. Find some missing parts to a weight machine in our house and I can start doing weights on my off days and it will get even stronger. Mentally I have a hurdle to overcome. I know that my 10-race plan will help with that immensely. After a couple more hopefully I won't feel as much like the noob that I am and my mind will get wrapped around the fact that this is possible. You know what's after a 10K, right? Oh yes. 13.1 miles.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Marshmellow madness
I've been craving marshmellows lately. So the other day, when I was at the store and saw them, I threw 'em in the cart. What harm could little puffs of goodness do? I love them in Rice Krispies, which I make about twice a year, but other than that, normally pass them by.
When I got home I stuffed four in my face. Not all at the same time chubby-bunny style, but one by one, slowly savoring the, uhm, the powdery nothingness? Don't get me wrong, but marshmellows really don't have much taste. I have no idea what I was craving from them, but I got them. So, after making my way through the fifth (large, btw) marshmellow, I looked on the package at the serving size. Eight or nine would make about 100 calories, right? WRONG! 4. Four marshmellows is 100 calories. I had just eating 125 worth. It wouldn't be horrible, but I was at the upper end of my calories for the day anyway. I threw them on the chair and walked away.
So the next night, I'm sitting with the SO watching some glorious Harry Potter once again (tonight we may be on movie #4!) and noshin' on some 'mellows. I know how many I can have now. Then, because I'm not enough of a glutton for punishment I look at the ingredient. First thing listed, which also means marshmellows have more of this than any other ingredient listed is corn syrup. Argh.
Corn syrup is one thing I'm trying not to eat. I find when I eat foods that have a lot of it, I just crave more sugar. I know that all the commercials say it's the same as regular sugar and our bodies process it the same way and all that, but when I follow my own body, it seems I crave sugary goodness quite a bit more when I am letting corn syrup be a large part of my diet. So yes, one of the few things I'm limiting/getting rid of in my diet I've pretty much stuffed in my face eight times in the last half hour. Not to mention the five from the day before. As I sit here typing this I am drooling because I want more marshmellows. So I read the back, ate one more (I mean, I'm not eating them other than in Rice Krispies again, so I wanted the one more to remember :) and threw the bag in the trash. Done. Gone.
Now I'm just dealing with more cravings. I'm pretty sure a Snickers bar would be down my gullet in two seconds if I saw one sitting on my desk. I also have tried fruit for today. It's taking the edge off, but I'm still in battle mode. I think if I can get through today, maybe tomorrow, I'll be back to my normal minimal cravings. But until then, I just hope marshmellow madness doesn't get me in its grip.
When I got home I stuffed four in my face. Not all at the same time chubby-bunny style, but one by one, slowly savoring the, uhm, the powdery nothingness? Don't get me wrong, but marshmellows really don't have much taste. I have no idea what I was craving from them, but I got them. So, after making my way through the fifth (large, btw) marshmellow, I looked on the package at the serving size. Eight or nine would make about 100 calories, right? WRONG! 4. Four marshmellows is 100 calories. I had just eating 125 worth. It wouldn't be horrible, but I was at the upper end of my calories for the day anyway. I threw them on the chair and walked away.
So the next night, I'm sitting with the SO watching some glorious Harry Potter once again (tonight we may be on movie #4!) and noshin' on some 'mellows. I know how many I can have now. Then, because I'm not enough of a glutton for punishment I look at the ingredient. First thing listed, which also means marshmellows have more of this than any other ingredient listed is corn syrup. Argh.
Corn syrup is one thing I'm trying not to eat. I find when I eat foods that have a lot of it, I just crave more sugar. I know that all the commercials say it's the same as regular sugar and our bodies process it the same way and all that, but when I follow my own body, it seems I crave sugary goodness quite a bit more when I am letting corn syrup be a large part of my diet. So yes, one of the few things I'm limiting/getting rid of in my diet I've pretty much stuffed in my face eight times in the last half hour. Not to mention the five from the day before. As I sit here typing this I am drooling because I want more marshmellows. So I read the back, ate one more (I mean, I'm not eating them other than in Rice Krispies again, so I wanted the one more to remember :) and threw the bag in the trash. Done. Gone.
Now I'm just dealing with more cravings. I'm pretty sure a Snickers bar would be down my gullet in two seconds if I saw one sitting on my desk. I also have tried fruit for today. It's taking the edge off, but I'm still in battle mode. I think if I can get through today, maybe tomorrow, I'll be back to my normal minimal cravings. But until then, I just hope marshmellow madness doesn't get me in its grip.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Health as a choice
When I wake up in the morning I hit my alarm clocking, often waking up the SO in the process, shuffle my way to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I then walk slightly more sprightly into the spare room to pick out my clothes. I put them on. I may even hum a tiny bit as I put makeup on. Normally I do something with my hair to make it not stand on end. I Make coffee, get my breakfast/lunch ready and head out the door. These are things I do. I may wonder why, I may question getting five more minutes of sleep, but I go.
I do not give myself a choice in this matter. I cannot choose not to go to work unless I am willing to face the consequences: Jobless, destitute, moving back home to live with mom and dad (love you!). So, because I do not want to be jobless or destitute, I get up. I get ready. I go.
Unfortunately, there are things in my life that I make into choices when they're really not. Like eating right. Truffles do not constitute a healthy meal, or a meal at all, although they do have enough calories in them at times to justify using them as my supper. In the same vein of thought, vegetables and fruits alone are not good enough for me. I do not eat enough of a variety to make them as nutritious as they should be to sustain my body. I need to eat rice or bread *insert other carbohydrates here.* I also need protein in my diet as beans alone will not keep my muscles growing.
Then there's exercise. There are days I bitch and moan to no end about not wanting to go down to the lovely treadmill in my basement even to walk for ten minutes. I mean, it's ten minutes? I spend ten minutes today deciding what nail polish I wanted to wear and then I try to tell myself I don't have ten minutes to walk, in front of the TV, with a ice-cold glass of water at my disposal? I think I needs to get over myself. And when it's nice out and light out AND I feel like going outside, how can I not be grateful, yes, grateful for the opportunity to enjoy myself? I mean, I'm off work by 1 p.m. I can enjoy parts of the afternoon that in the fall and winter are actually tolerable, while other people work from darkness to darkness and see the slanted autumnal light seeping through work windows. I mean, yes I get up at the butt-crack of dawn, but still, Light? Warmth? Sun? Hello?
Yesterday was one of those days. Of warmth and sun, yes, but also of getting off my butt and walking/running on my treadmill, even though my butt was very against the notion of working. I mean, I've got races to train for! And after? After it was glorious and wonderful. And then, to top it off, I didn't have to make supper and we watched Harry Potter. Oh, and the cats decided to cuddle with me. Can you say perfect evening? I blame the workout. But yesterday, unlike tens of days I've recently let pass without working out, I didn't give myself an option. It was done, the workout, before it even started because it was written in stone that I would work out. And I did.
Being healthy, unfortunately, is a choice. It's a choice I mess up far too often, especially because in my heart of heart I know how happy I am when I am treating my body like it deserves. I don't have a personal trainer to make me do things. I have a SO who knows better than to "make" me do something. I have a brain that likes to be lazy because it's smart enough to have figured out how. Well, for now that brain has met it's matched. It's my determination, and the knowledge that I can do this. I've proved before I can do more than I ever thought myself capable of. I'll do it again.
I do not give myself a choice in this matter. I cannot choose not to go to work unless I am willing to face the consequences: Jobless, destitute, moving back home to live with mom and dad (love you!). So, because I do not want to be jobless or destitute, I get up. I get ready. I go.
Unfortunately, there are things in my life that I make into choices when they're really not. Like eating right. Truffles do not constitute a healthy meal, or a meal at all, although they do have enough calories in them at times to justify using them as my supper. In the same vein of thought, vegetables and fruits alone are not good enough for me. I do not eat enough of a variety to make them as nutritious as they should be to sustain my body. I need to eat rice or bread *insert other carbohydrates here.* I also need protein in my diet as beans alone will not keep my muscles growing.
Then there's exercise. There are days I bitch and moan to no end about not wanting to go down to the lovely treadmill in my basement even to walk for ten minutes. I mean, it's ten minutes? I spend ten minutes today deciding what nail polish I wanted to wear and then I try to tell myself I don't have ten minutes to walk, in front of the TV, with a ice-cold glass of water at my disposal? I think I needs to get over myself. And when it's nice out and light out AND I feel like going outside, how can I not be grateful, yes, grateful for the opportunity to enjoy myself? I mean, I'm off work by 1 p.m. I can enjoy parts of the afternoon that in the fall and winter are actually tolerable, while other people work from darkness to darkness and see the slanted autumnal light seeping through work windows. I mean, yes I get up at the butt-crack of dawn, but still, Light? Warmth? Sun? Hello?
Yesterday was one of those days. Of warmth and sun, yes, but also of getting off my butt and walking/running on my treadmill, even though my butt was very against the notion of working. I mean, I've got races to train for! And after? After it was glorious and wonderful. And then, to top it off, I didn't have to make supper and we watched Harry Potter. Oh, and the cats decided to cuddle with me. Can you say perfect evening? I blame the workout. But yesterday, unlike tens of days I've recently let pass without working out, I didn't give myself an option. It was done, the workout, before it even started because it was written in stone that I would work out. And I did.
Being healthy, unfortunately, is a choice. It's a choice I mess up far too often, especially because in my heart of heart I know how happy I am when I am treating my body like it deserves. I don't have a personal trainer to make me do things. I have a SO who knows better than to "make" me do something. I have a brain that likes to be lazy because it's smart enough to have figured out how. Well, for now that brain has met it's matched. It's my determination, and the knowledge that I can do this. I've proved before I can do more than I ever thought myself capable of. I'll do it again.
Monday, November 8, 2010
One step sideways
I think I may have been able to do better this weekend. And by this weekend I mean Sunday. Family was over, and I love to cook for family!
We started the day with homemade cinnamon rolls and cream cheese frosting. Then it was lunch, with pizza, hot ham&cheese sandwiches and chips. Lots of vegetables there, right? I also made apple pie, at least I got one fruit serving in. Top it off with pig-in-the-blankets and potatoes and mixed vegetables. I think I had three servings of fruits/vegetables the entire day!
But it's one day. One day to enjoy the company of family. One day to show off my culinary skills :D And oh, it was good. Other than the splitting headache I had when I went to bed (hello lack of water) it was amazing. Did we do anything special? Other than spending much-loved time together, no. It was wondrous.
Now, that splitting headache. It's back. With a vengeance. I feel some sinus pressure coming on in a bad way. I've upped my freggie intake again (as per normal for my week) and hope to get some relief, but my co-workers are almost all sick, so I think I may be doomed.
Anyone else have a serious lack of goodforyou food on the weekend, but stay strong through the week? I used to be the other way around. On the weekend I had more time and energy to cook for that was delicious and nutritious, but it seems lately, I'm more careful about what I eat Mon-Fri and then splurge on my weekend. Wuzzup wid dat?
We started the day with homemade cinnamon rolls and cream cheese frosting. Then it was lunch, with pizza, hot ham&cheese sandwiches and chips. Lots of vegetables there, right? I also made apple pie, at least I got one fruit serving in. Top it off with pig-in-the-blankets and potatoes and mixed vegetables. I think I had three servings of fruits/vegetables the entire day!
But it's one day. One day to enjoy the company of family. One day to show off my culinary skills :D And oh, it was good. Other than the splitting headache I had when I went to bed (hello lack of water) it was amazing. Did we do anything special? Other than spending much-loved time together, no. It was wondrous.
Now, that splitting headache. It's back. With a vengeance. I feel some sinus pressure coming on in a bad way. I've upped my freggie intake again (as per normal for my week) and hope to get some relief, but my co-workers are almost all sick, so I think I may be doomed.
Anyone else have a serious lack of goodforyou food on the weekend, but stay strong through the week? I used to be the other way around. On the weekend I had more time and energy to cook for that was delicious and nutritious, but it seems lately, I'm more careful about what I eat Mon-Fri and then splurge on my weekend. Wuzzup wid dat?
Friday, November 5, 2010
Feeling good
Eating better. Check. Exercising again. Check. Feeling better. Check. It's amazing how when I do the first two, the third is pretty much inevitable. I feel whole.
I don't know how it goes for many people, but for me? I struggle. I want to be better. I need to be better. Life is not fulfilling unless I am the best of the best. Every day I talk myself out of this. Every day I try not to beat myself up for little things I've done "wrong" throughout the day. I've disppointed people. I've forgotten things (goodness knows I do that one a lot) I don't respond as quickly as I should to e-mail or phone calls. I didn't put the dish in the right place and I don't have a perfectly clean house. Oh my, not at all.
We talk about emotional abuse from significant others and from family. It's bad. It's horrid. It can cause relationships to fall apart and crumble and it can scar individuals for life. What if I'm emotionally abusing myself? I'm the one who gets angry at me when I "mess up." I yell, I beat myself up. I've been known to shed many tears and be upset and irrational. The SO may remind me to do something small and insignificant. He's trying to help, but because I'm so mad at myself and I have been beating myself up all day, I burst into tears and run from the room. What's he to think? My parents may call to try to help me out with something, but, again, because of the way I've been treating myself all day, I snap, am short with them and am unwilling to accept their help. These people love me. I know they would do anything they can to make me happy and healthy, but how can they help me when I'm not helping myself?
I know what to do to take care of myself. Eat foods that are better for me (and indulge in a truffle every now and then). Work out, sleep enough. Those things pretty much make a happy and healthy Jessica. Throw in a few hugs from the people I love, a few beers on the weekend with friends, and that's a happy life in a nutshell, for me. It just seems when I work out, when I'm eating better, then I find the energy to be kind to myself. I may still have an off day, but I don't yell "FATTIE" every time I look in the mirror. I allow myself to slide, I allow myself to not be perfect. It makes me happier, the SO happier, and anyone else who cares about me probably sees that I am happier.
Emotional abuse is a problem, I'm not making light of it, I'm just saying, when we're victims of doing it to ourself something needs to change. Just like an abuser needs to get help, we need to figure out why we are damaging our own psyche. What right do we have to continually tear our minds down? How is it less a form of abuse when we're doing it to ourselves? We need to change, to adapt and give our bodies and minds the love we deserve. I will not say we are entitled to many things, but happiness is one of those.
I don't know how it goes for many people, but for me? I struggle. I want to be better. I need to be better. Life is not fulfilling unless I am the best of the best. Every day I talk myself out of this. Every day I try not to beat myself up for little things I've done "wrong" throughout the day. I've disppointed people. I've forgotten things (goodness knows I do that one a lot) I don't respond as quickly as I should to e-mail or phone calls. I didn't put the dish in the right place and I don't have a perfectly clean house. Oh my, not at all.
We talk about emotional abuse from significant others and from family. It's bad. It's horrid. It can cause relationships to fall apart and crumble and it can scar individuals for life. What if I'm emotionally abusing myself? I'm the one who gets angry at me when I "mess up." I yell, I beat myself up. I've been known to shed many tears and be upset and irrational. The SO may remind me to do something small and insignificant. He's trying to help, but because I'm so mad at myself and I have been beating myself up all day, I burst into tears and run from the room. What's he to think? My parents may call to try to help me out with something, but, again, because of the way I've been treating myself all day, I snap, am short with them and am unwilling to accept their help. These people love me. I know they would do anything they can to make me happy and healthy, but how can they help me when I'm not helping myself?
I know what to do to take care of myself. Eat foods that are better for me (and indulge in a truffle every now and then). Work out, sleep enough. Those things pretty much make a happy and healthy Jessica. Throw in a few hugs from the people I love, a few beers on the weekend with friends, and that's a happy life in a nutshell, for me. It just seems when I work out, when I'm eating better, then I find the energy to be kind to myself. I may still have an off day, but I don't yell "FATTIE" every time I look in the mirror. I allow myself to slide, I allow myself to not be perfect. It makes me happier, the SO happier, and anyone else who cares about me probably sees that I am happier.
Emotional abuse is a problem, I'm not making light of it, I'm just saying, when we're victims of doing it to ourself something needs to change. Just like an abuser needs to get help, we need to figure out why we are damaging our own psyche. What right do we have to continually tear our minds down? How is it less a form of abuse when we're doing it to ourselves? We need to change, to adapt and give our bodies and minds the love we deserve. I will not say we are entitled to many things, but happiness is one of those.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The G to the chest to the back pain
I think I may have mentioned before that I lost some weight. A little over half of what I want to lose all together. So you know one area that I haven't lost any? ANY!? *men look away* my boobs. Oh yes. My boobs. Where it seems most women lose weight there before anywhere else, the only thing that's gone down in size on my bra is the band measurement. What gives?
So now, where before the whole weight gain I was a badly measured 36D (probably really a 34DD) I am now a 34G. G people. Just to give you a reference, when I researched it - on the google machine - the answer given seemed to be that a G-sized breast weighs eight pounds. That would mean that there are over 15 lbs on the front of my body. No wonder my back constantly hurts.
I know this is down the road, but what if the rest of me shrinks and my chest doesn't? I don't really know if I can handle that. Yes it's hereditary in my family, from both sides, so I know I will never be an A cup, but still, a little off the front would be pretty nice.
The thing is, I am contemplating surgery. After checking with my insurance, it seems they'd cover it after the deductible. It just makes me really nervous. I won't be doing this for quite some time, but I've got to put it out there. If I get down to near goal weight and still nothing is off in the boob department, I think it's my option. I don't want to live with the chronic pain I have even now. I have permanent indentations in my shoulders from where my bra strap pulls down and even now, with a bra that fits properly, it's pain.
So ... any thoughts?
So now, where before the whole weight gain I was a badly measured 36D (probably really a 34DD) I am now a 34G. G people. Just to give you a reference, when I researched it - on the google machine - the answer given seemed to be that a G-sized breast weighs eight pounds. That would mean that there are over 15 lbs on the front of my body. No wonder my back constantly hurts.
I know this is down the road, but what if the rest of me shrinks and my chest doesn't? I don't really know if I can handle that. Yes it's hereditary in my family, from both sides, so I know I will never be an A cup, but still, a little off the front would be pretty nice.
The thing is, I am contemplating surgery. After checking with my insurance, it seems they'd cover it after the deductible. It just makes me really nervous. I won't be doing this for quite some time, but I've got to put it out there. If I get down to near goal weight and still nothing is off in the boob department, I think it's my option. I don't want to live with the chronic pain I have even now. I have permanent indentations in my shoulders from where my bra strap pulls down and even now, with a bra that fits properly, it's pain.
So ... any thoughts?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The blame game
How often have things in our lives gotten out of control? Work is stressful. Family is stressful. Friends are stressful. Things become overwhelming and, sooner or later, those things slip. We make mistakes, we screw up, we fail. Whatever you want to call it, people do it. What happens when you do it?
Who is to blame when I slip up? My boss, who gives me too much work? My friends and family for demanding too much time?
I am.
It seems counter-intuitive. Someone else is causing me to stress, someone else is making my life crazy, so how am I to blame? I choose how I handle my life. When I get too stressed by work or family, it is up to me to relay to them how I'm feeling, and then to do something about it. If I can't handle my workload, I need to go talk to my boss and together we can brainstorm about how to fix it. If I never talk to him about my problems, he'll just come down on my harder when I don't meet a deadline. If I feel family and friends are demanding too much of me and I never tell them, I will let them down when I can't be there for them through every second of every day. Others expectations should be taken into account, but ultimately we choose how and where to spend our time.
That goes doubly for exercise and a healthy lifestyle. I choose to take care of myself. When I do I am that much more able to take care of those around me. I can blame whoever I want when I don't eat right or when I don't exercise. "Well, it was a special occasion so I wanted to eat out with everyone." "We have so much to do around the house I just didn't have time for a run." You can eat out and still eat healthy and even if you don't have time for a run it's no excuse for not exercising. Squat while you move those boxes. Lift those cats like dumbbells (you can expect a few scratches from that one!). The point is, it's like Smoky the Bear telling you that only you can prevent forest fires.
Only you can make the decisions to lead, or not lead, a healthy life.
Who is to blame when I slip up? My boss, who gives me too much work? My friends and family for demanding too much time?
I am.
It seems counter-intuitive. Someone else is causing me to stress, someone else is making my life crazy, so how am I to blame? I choose how I handle my life. When I get too stressed by work or family, it is up to me to relay to them how I'm feeling, and then to do something about it. If I can't handle my workload, I need to go talk to my boss and together we can brainstorm about how to fix it. If I never talk to him about my problems, he'll just come down on my harder when I don't meet a deadline. If I feel family and friends are demanding too much of me and I never tell them, I will let them down when I can't be there for them through every second of every day. Others expectations should be taken into account, but ultimately we choose how and where to spend our time.
That goes doubly for exercise and a healthy lifestyle. I choose to take care of myself. When I do I am that much more able to take care of those around me. I can blame whoever I want when I don't eat right or when I don't exercise. "Well, it was a special occasion so I wanted to eat out with everyone." "We have so much to do around the house I just didn't have time for a run." You can eat out and still eat healthy and even if you don't have time for a run it's no excuse for not exercising. Squat while you move those boxes. Lift those cats like dumbbells (you can expect a few scratches from that one!). The point is, it's like Smoky the Bear telling you that only you can prevent forest fires.
Only you can make the decisions to lead, or not lead, a healthy life.
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