The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

…I Just Want You to Know Who I Am April 30, 2011

It's a Great Feeling

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Hello all.  Please do not adjust your monitors- you haven’t slipped back in time.  You’re actually reading a new post.  I’m writing again for the first time in a while, and I’m feeling really introspective and deep at the moment, and I’m feeling like I have a lot to say tonight, and I’m praying that it all comes out the way I want it to. 

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I owe this new entry to a surprise comment from an old friend I ran into today.  We were talking about our kids, and what they were going to do after high school, and Daughter S., who was with me, told my friend she wants to go to the Dallas Art Institute.  My friend asked me if I was artsy in high school, and I said no, that was my cousin, and that I was more creative with words.  She asked me why I didn’t “do something with that.”  I told her I used to blog online, and she said, “Yeah, I know.  I used to read it all the time, and then you quit doing it.”  That comment shocked me.  I knew there were a faithful few who seemed to enjoy reading me here, but I had no idea who else might have been going along for the ride. (This is why you totally need to be commenting, here, folks!  I need feedback.  I’m no longer too proud to beg!)  So I started thinking about all the writing I’ve done here and all the people who’ve read it and been able to relate, connect, and hopefully have a laugh.  I realized how much I’ve missed writing.  Blogging, sharing, ranting, attempting to entertain and perhaps inspire.  So I’m back in the saddle again, to quote an old cowboy ditty. 

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I was driving home tonight from my kids’ Campfire campout.  The car was quiet.  I had the radio off, for once.  The Boy was snoring in the backseat.  I was contemplating.  You know, things like the Universe and the meaning of life.  No, not really.  Actually, I was thinking about how it’s neat when you’re driving at night through areas with a lot of lights all around, and you let your eyes relax and blur a little, and it all becomes this loopy chaos of sensation, in which, if you let yourself stay long enough, you can start to feel just a little bit high. 

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Also, I was thinking about the subtitle of my blog:  One Woman’s Journey to Becoming Her True Self.  One Woman.  Wo-man.  Whoa, man!  I’m a woman.  When did that happen?  Chronologically there’s no question, I mean I’m ever so lightly pushing 40.  In the timeline of the universe, I’m definitely an adult.  Have been for a while.  But does anyone else ever share that feeling where you’re still just the same person you were in high school, but now people call you Mom, and driving doesn’t scare you, and you have a house that it’s your job to take care of, and you go to work and pay bills, but other than that, you haven’t changed much?  Just me, huh?  Or maybe not.  Maybe some of you felt that way too, you just didn’t know you did until I pointed it out.

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Also the word ‘journey.’  My journey seems to have kicked into high gear lately.  I mentioned on New Year’s Day that I wanted to make this year a year of Action.  Remember last year, I was all about Transformation?  How I wanted to change myself and my life into something I could be proud of, and how this year I wanted to learn how to bring more motion and action into my life, not just physically, but in a lot of other ways too?  Well recently I’ve found myself in what once would have been the oddest of places for me- a gym.  A fitness center.  A place where most people could fit their entire bodies into one leg of my jeans.  It wasn’t an overnight thing, of course.  I was drawn into it veeeery slowly.  My beautiful sister, the fitness fanatic, the exercise queen, had been going there for years. Never nagging, never bragging, never trying to push anyone to do as she did, but always encouraging, supporting, and gently leaving the door open for others to follow her example, eventually becoming certified to instruct the classes she’d been taking for ages.  She participated in a fitness challenge this year, as she has in other years, that piqued my attention and interest mostly because of how much more weight she lost when I thought she had no more to lose, and also because of how much participating helped her husband, who lost his mother right before the challenge started, and who found new salvation and purpose and strength both literal and emotional in his discovery of the joy of fitness.  That was powerful to witness, trust me.

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So I started thinking.  Like I said, Verrrry slowly.  Reluctantly.  I was still trying to do Weight Watchers, but I was really struggling, ever since the holidays.  I was yo-yo-ing up and down, mostly flatlined, but not really trying very hard.  Then they added a new class to the lineup, called PiYo, a combination of Pilates and yoga moves- core strengthening, stretching, balance, etc.  I tried it out, because it was zero impact, and because it was new to everybody so maybe I could keep up, and because my sister was the instructor.  I really enjoyed it, and I kept going to every class.  It was only once a week, so it didn’t create a big sucking drain on my time or energy, and there was plenty of time to recover between Friday mornings at 9am.  And I kept going.  And from the beginning, when I could barely hold myself up, I gradually began to notice it getting easier.  I suddenly realized I was doing some moves I couldn’t do when I started.  Wait, what?  I can do a tricep dip with knee pull?  I can do windshield wiper knees?  I can do a SIDE PLANK!?  Wow, this is only from going one day a week!  What if I started going more often?  What if I went to the turbo class?  No, I can’t do turbo.  That’s fast.  That’s high impact.  That’s 5:freakin-45 in the A.M.!  I gotta sleep sometime.  But… what if I tried it?  What if I did it, and it made a huge difference in my weight loss efforts?  What if I started to feel like maybe I could someday make it to goal weight and actually be a small person, and maybe even be… an athlete?

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Let’s flash back here for a minute.  I started this journey with over two hundred pounds to lose.  That’s right,  2.  Hundred.  I couldn’t walk through my house without feeling like my breathing increased.  I couldn’t jog.  I couldn’t cross my legs.  Hell, I could barely wipe my own butt.  You think that’s not embarrassing to admit?  Brutal honesty here, folks.  Stick with me though, here’s where it gets interesting. 

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This past week at Weight Watchers, I hit 99 lbs. lost since January 2010.  On Monday, I also paid my monthly fee to attend unlimited classes at the gym.  I went to turbo class.  Not once.  Three times in a week.  And one or two times the week before that.  I haven’t missed a regular PiYo class since they started.  People started commenting and noticing my weight loss again.  Not just people who see me once every six months- people who see me at least once a week.  I got revitalized in my weight loss efforts, tracking regularly again, being more controlled and careful about what I ate.  This week at Weight Watchers, I will probably get a gold medal, my most trivial of many rewards for losing 100 lbs. 

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In other words, I was wrong.  I have changed.  I’m older, but I’m not the same. Everything changed.  Everything changed because I got serious about ACTION.  Motion.  Movement.  A friend of mine posted a picture of herself AND her fitness trainer both wearing the denim shorts she was wearing when she started her journey.  It’s amazing to look at that picture.  Inspiring isn’t a strong enough word. 

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The thing is, I’m not where I want to be.  Not even close.  I still have over 100 lbs. to lose.  I want to be toned.  I want to have muscles and strength and stamina.  But I can do things I couldn’t do a few months ago.  The most mind-blowing part to me is my clothing size.  I ordered some stuff online the other day, and there weren’t any X’s involved.  No 1x, 2x, 3x.  Just an L.  You can’t know how weird that is for me. 

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I guess if there’s a point, it’s that my journey continues.  My efforts to “become my true self” are ongoing.  There are areas I’m still exploring, like my career, and what kind of person I want to be when I find the person I want to be with.  But I’m still here.  Still fighting.  Still being formed along with the fundamental parts of me that are changing as I learn to let myself become who I wanted to be all along.  And that’s about the best anyone can do, right? 

Until next time,

D.

And I don’t want the world to see me

Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.

When everything’s made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.

 

The Times, They Are A-Changin’! (And So Am I!) February 25, 2011

Filed under: Steps in the Journey,Sweatin' It Out! — DDKlingonGirl @ 10:38 am
Tags: , , , , , ,
colourful sunset. knysna, south africa. slight...

Hello all.  I did something big this week.  I could tell you the backstory of how I’ve said many times that I do not enjoy moving.  Not packing all my belongings in boxes and trucking them across country.  Exercising.  I have never been a mover and a shaker.  I would rather be lying down reading a book or kicked back in a reclining chair with a computer on my lap than almost anything else in the world.  I have been obese almost all my life, but I have a sister who is now a certified fitness instructor!  She goes to a local gym and does “Turbo” at 5:45 three mornings a week, which I have always maintained is not a sane or normal thing to do, and at 9:00 three other mornings a week.  In addition to that, she attends or teaches “Hip Hop Hustle” at least twice a week and is about to start a PiYo class as well.  She also practices the routines at home, AND she does strength training.  She also works about 50 hours a week and has a young daughter.  To say this woman has a full life is an UNDERSTATEMENT! 

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Anyway, in the first blog I ever posted here, I said I probably would never become the sort of person who gets up and goes to an exercise class at 5-something in the morning.  Well guess what?  This week- I did it.  I had had a big disappointment at Weight Watchers, and watched a dear friend get her goal weight award that same day, and I just decided that if I was ever going to get out of the rut I’ve been in for the last two months with WW, that I would have to get MOVING!  

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So I didn’t even get to bed until midnight the night before.  I was still flip-flopping back and forth, literally and figuratively, as I lay in bed and tossed and turned and tried to talk myself into and out of getting up and going to my sister’s class.  Finally, after midnight, I just rolled over and set my alarm for 5 a.m. and said to myself, ‘The heck with it.  If I don’t do this now, I never will.  Besides, the first class is free.’  And the next morning, I got up when the alarm went off, pulled on my leggings and oversize t-shirt (No skinny tanks or sports bras for this wanna-be athlete, not yet, anyway!)  and my poor, worn-out Sketchers Shapeups. I grabbed a big water bottle, my keys, phone, and purse, and hit the road.  Still dark, hardly anybody on the road, early morning chill, quiet world.  It was nice.  I got to the gym and it didn’t look like there was anyone there yet, so I sat in the car and texted my sister to surprise her that I was there.  She said she’d be there soon, so I waited a while longer.

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It’s actually kind of funny- there’s this weird fitness sub-culture in my town.  Every morning, hordes of tiny little people are seen jogging around town at ungodly hours of the morning, clutching their water bottles and trying to look like they’re enjoying it.  (Maybe they are, but I can’t imagine!)  So as I was sitting there in my car in front of the gym on downtown Main street, I kept seeing little groups of joggers go by in my rearview mirror.  Finally, my friend who got her goal weight award this week showed up for the 5:40 Turbo class as usual.  (Hmm, could the two be related?)  Now that I knew someone there, I got out of the car and went in with her.

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The class was not as hard as I was afraid it would be, but I still couldn’t keep up with half the choreography.  And the whole ‘sticking both feet way out behind you and then doing a huge jumping jack up in the air’ thing?  Oh, heck to the NO!  Not a snowball’s chance I was going to pull that one off yet.  But still, it wasn’t bad; I kept up and kept moving through the whole class, which I was SUPER proud of, and left the gym feeling rubber-legged, but accomplished! 

*

So today I kind of felt the urge to get up and do it again- I even set my alarm again.  (I know, I’m wondering if the Mind-Snatching aliens left a forwarding address, too.)  But my bed was snuggy and warm and I couldn’t make myself get up and go.  But Sister Fitness had given me a couple of Turbo dvds a while back, so I told myself that as soon as I took the kids to school, I’d come home and do one of those.  I even had the kids show me how to work the stupid PS3 that serves as our dvd player.  Unfortunately, that instruction didn’t stick, and I got about 5 minutes into the workout before I got frustrated that I couldn’t keep up with the damn choreography, and then I would have gone ahead and finished it, but I couldn’t figure out how to work the game controller enough to get the video back to where it was, so with a little foul-mouth-edness, I just turned it off and decided to get on the treadmill instead! 

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I walked for about 27 minutes, and then I fixed myself a lovely scrambled omelette with green onion, minced garlic, cilantro, (which I am starting to fall in love with, btw.  It tastes like Spring!) mushrooms, tomatoes, and shredded cheese, with a whole grain English muffin and a cup of skim milk.  I lit a candle on my table, prayed, meditated, and focused on savoring and enjoying my food.  As I watched the candle flame dance, I started trying to formulate a poem about it, as well as a poetry-based blog entry describing the difference between my Tuesday and my today, but I haven’t perfected those yet, so…

Until next time,

D.

 

 
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