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Blogging about gardening in zone 4, marriage, our golden retriever and life in general.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Self Sabotoge

I'm good about going to the gym. No, really, I am; I get some type of strenuous exercise at least 6 days a week. If I miss a day I start to feel nasty about myself. I'm definitely addicted to the endorphins from it. I sleep better, eat better, and actually get more done if I make time to go to the gym. I also love, love love to go for 1-2 hour bike rides around town, although those have been stymied by our current living location west of town and my inability to give up my favorite bike route south of town where my parents live. I'll even get up and go for a bike ride at the lake. Nothing motivates a girl like the prospect of spending the afternoon in a swimsuit.

Dad and I on the bike trail in Harrison, Idaho.

But really, I power pump twice a week at the downtown gym, I do cardio every other day of the week and sometimes try to squeeze in a Pilates class. Imagine if you will a Kramer doing Pilates. It must be like watching a hippo do ballet; uncoordinated, ungraceful, with a lot of inappropriate grunting. Yeah, I'm graceful.

Why then have I seen the scale inch up in the two years since grad school? Well, I think the problem has many layers (like an onion!). There is, of course genetics. My family breeds offensive lineman. No, really. My dad, and his brothers Joe, Pat and Dave all played college football. My two cousins Blake and Zack did too.

Gretch, Blake, Zack and me after a football game. Yes, I know, my little sister is both taller than I am and usually looks older than I do.

And as I get older I'm coming to terms with looking increasingly like my mom.

Mom and I gearing up for a bike ride from the Harrison docks. Thats right, my family has been known to use the wakeboard racks as bike racks to transport a bike across the lake.

When I was a kid I was on the swim team. I've always loved being in the water, and I'm pretty sure swim team was cheaper than after school daycare for my parents. I would walk a mile over Cheney's steepest hills home from swim practice and be starving. Although I'm certain our diet was much more diverse than I recall it, all I remember eating is BBQ'd chicken breast and potatoes as a kid. A lot of them. I remember scarfing down dinner one night, and my mom being a bit surprised how much I ate. My dad's response was that hey, as long as you're exercising you can eat whatever you want.

While that might have been true when I was 10, its not when I'm 26. Apparently it’s now important to watch my portions and eat fruits and veggies. Thankfully, I never really got into fast food. I'd rather eat really yummy food, with cheese. And beer. Or wine. Sometimes whiskey.

The other stumbling block is that I love sweets. Well, maybe I don't love it, but it’s definitely my go-to coping method for stress. Staff Report, CLG Report and 8 COA's due today? Run to Western Drug for Jelly Bellys!!!! (and they've helped give me a jelly belly!) Site visits to do and yucky phone calls to applicants to make? Swing by Joe's parkway for licorice bears and yogurt pretzels while you're in the area!

Ultimately, the candy eating leads to the fact that I must go to the gym, which takes a sometimes very valuable hour away from my already-overbooked day (see: reasons for stress above). And if I don't make it to the gym I feel like a total cow the next day.

Really, my candy binge followed by gym routine (sometimes it’s reversed; gym, then the "I earned it" candy binge) is incredibly self-sabotaging. I mean, without the copious amounts of candy, I'd be eating really well. Three fruits and veggies a day, salads with baked fish for dinner, almonds, yogurt with flax seed for Christ sake.

So I've identified the problem, but the question is if I'll do anything to address it? Other than continuing to work harder and harder in the gym. Anyone have any non-chocolate related stress coping techniques?

1 comment:

  1. I don't know what it is but I can't eat candy anymore it just makes be feel sick... fast food on the other hand