The effect of exercise on weight loss

I've finally figured it out.  The real reason people who exercise also lose weight is NOT because they are burning a gazillion calories.  It's NOT that they are eating less carbs or fatty foods.  It's not even because they had a surgery they won't admit to.  I used to believe those were the reasons that exercisers lost weight, but I couldn't reconcile those theories with the fact that muscle weighs more than fat.  If exercising builds muscle, then exercising would irrefutably lead to WEIGHT GAIN!  (I've always had a strong proclivity toward exposing conspiracy theories).  The real reason is that, at the end of the workout, exercisers have no strength left to prepare a meal.  The thought of lifting a fork to their mouth exacerbates the PTSD caused by excessive hand-weight exposure.  Getting from the post-workout prostrate position on the floor to the post-post-workout prostrate position on the bed is nearly impossible.  Some, who will remain unnamed, have taken to sleeping on their yoga mats.  We can conclude from this information that weight loss is not a direct result of exercising, but results from the temporary inability to engage the muscles necessary for preparing and inserting food into the mouth.  Therefore, due to muscle fatigue induced starvation, exercisers lose weight. 

That’s why I keep my potato chips next to my yoga mat.  They happen to be lightweight.  

The Medusa Affect

Can't type

Must breathe

I must confess that I skipped yesterday's workout.  But I AM NOT SORRY!  I needed it.  I can skip whenever I want.  I am over 18.  I don't answer to anyone but God and me, and God said give it a rest (see Genesis 2:2).  So, there, Smellian Michaels.  

Today, started day one of ten for cycle 2.  All I can say is "holy crap".

Do you remember the mythical creature, Medusa?   She had a seductive voice that coaxed people to look in her direction.  She  dripped with sweetness, luring her prey like kids to candy or men to Victoria's Secret commercials ("hello, bombshell").  Oh, yeah... did I mention that she had snakes for hair and if you made eye contact with her you were turned to stone?

Jillian Michaels has a similar talent in cycle 2.  For the first minute or two I was feeling good, stretching the familiar muscles from cycle 1.  All was well until... I made eye contact with her.  Her laser beams shot out from her eyes and scanned my entire body, head to toe, looking for muscles to punish.  You see, cycle 1 was just the bait to get us into the lair.  After the laser scanner (the same kind they use at the airport - the kind that exposes your every dimple), Medusa Michaels targets the weakest muscles in our bodies and pierces us with the venom of torturous evils disguised as "exercise".  Don't eat the apple, Snow White!  Stay away from the spindle, Sleeping Beauty!  Don't go into the castle, Shrek and Donkey!  

Tomorrow is a new day, and I will do my best to get back on the exercise wagon for another gut busting, bone bruising, heart pounding round of muscle misery.  But, I think I will keep my back to the screen... just in case.

This is getting old

This whole exercise thing is getting old, and I only started 10 days ago.  Looking for a little encouragement, I told my eccentric exercising friend, Jes, that I was struggling to exercise every day and she said "Oh, yeah!  My first month was horrible!"  Great to hear it, Jes.  Thanks.  Misery is an expectation.  I'm right on track.  Seeing the look of disappointment on my face, she tried to encourage me by adding "BUT... by month 5 it's GREAT!"  What?  Seriously?  5 months of this?  I only signed on for the 30 day Shred.  Nobody said ANYTHING about 5 months!

Speaking of getting old... my knees are getting old.  They keep creaking like a rusty bike chain or a rocking chair on an old wood floor.  My bobby's have a tendency to give me black eyes (Thanks for the imagery, Momma Jill VZ).  When I tuck in my shirt, I have to start by tucking in my belly awning.  That wasn't there when I was young.  And, I have chaffing in places that were never meant to touch.

Another thing that's getting old is the stinking video.  Tomorrow I get to move to the second exercise cycle.  It couldn't come soon enough.  I have started lip syncing Jillian when she talks to the camera and to her minions.  She affectionately refers to them as "buddy" - but she says it in a mob-boss kind of way. "Isn't that right, Buddy?", she says.  I can hear the undertone...."isn't that right, buddy?  say it's right or I'll introduce your head to my little friend called Hand-weight.  tell the listening audience how much you love to exercise, and nobody gets a high kick to the abs, got it?"

Ok, this post is getting old.  See ya next time.

The psychology of body image

Today, I feel a bit melancholy, so I thought I might share some of the thoughts that have brought me to this 30 day challenge.  Maybe this isn't true for everyone, but I find it so hard to actually 'love my body'.  When I was a teenager, I remember wishing my gut wasn't so big, and my butt was more round. I wanted knees that didn't turn in and a face without zits.  My top half was never perky enough, round enough, flat enough, big enough... whatever shape and size was the shape and size of the month.  I didn't love my body.  Now, as an adult, I want to return to that 'less than perfect' body size and shape that I had in high school.  It was great!  I could run.  I could jump and shoot hoops.  I could dive for a dig and soar for a kill (volleyball was my favorite sport).  I stacked a thousand hay bales in the summer and could saddle thirty horses in an hour and a half.  

This adult body I woke up with isn't mine... I mean, it's not really me.  I think someone stole my size 8 and replaced it with this size 12, 14, 18, 16.  I am a twelve in the legs, a fourteen around the thighs, an eighteen waist (curse you, waistline!) and a 16 chest.  I didn't see it coming and can't seem to find the thief responsible for it.  When I close my eyes, I see a woman who stands tall with her shoulders back and confidence in every freckle.  She isn't embarrassed by her reflection in the store windows she passes on her way to the next meeting, and she never has to untuck her shirt from the rolls of her belly.  That's the me on the inside.  

I guess this summer is a test.  This summer is a test to see if I can find the woman on the inside.  The one who loves her body.  No... that's not quite it.  The one who loves HERSELF.  

The power of a smile

It's day eight today.  Two more days of workout 1 and I get to advance to workout 2 of 3.  I've decided to divide the workouts into ten day increments, so that I spend the same amount of time in each.  Of course, that also means that I only have to count to 10 before starting over at 1.  That keeps it simple.  Trust me... counting gets tougher as we get sweatier.

I decided that today I would study the back row girls in the video and see what they had to offer me as encouragement.  Wouldn't you know, they both smiled through the WHOLE workout.  This wasn't just your average smile... this smile said "I am so content and relaxed!  This is so great!  Working out makes me happy!"  So, I tried it too.  Wouldn't you know... I couldn't keep up the appearance.  My smile only lasted about twenty seconds, and that was because I was thinking about the wedgie creeping up my butt and the possibility that those smiley girls in the video had major wedgies too.  That made me happy, but only for about 20 seconds.

In case you are wondering, tomorrow I am going on a field trip with my son.  We will be hiking 280 stairs to the top of Mt. Baldy.  If we don't get rained out, and actually have to climb those stairs, I want you to know that I am NOT, NO WAY NO HOW, doing this exercise video.  It ain't gonna happen.  If we get rained out (distinctly possible given the forecast), I will be back with Jillian and her smiley girls.

I don't know which is worse... should I pray for rain or sun?

Day 6... only 24 freakin miserable days left.

There are certain phrases that Jillian uses throughout her workout video that catch my imagination and cause me to think things that don't belong in an exercise routine.  For instance, when attempting to dissuade us from quitting, Jillian often says, "Don't phone it in."  I don't know what that means!  Phone what in?  Is she talking about take-out?  Is she talking about pizza...  from Pizza Hut, with extra crispy deep dish crust dripping with butter, cheese and pepperoni grease?  How am I suppose to stay committed to this dogone workout if she keeps talking about PIZZA!?!

Heres another example.  Jillian says "if you're on day 5, 6, 7, 8 you are already starting to see results!"  What?!?!  Seriously?  Just what kind of results is she expecting me to see?  Has the concave of my belly button reached less than a 1.5 inch depth yet?  Nope.  When I sit, do I still see a bulge over my pants like the edge of a hard-packed ice cream cone (with butter pecan and carmel in it, topped with chocolate sprinkles, in a waffle cone.... oh.  I digress)?  Yes - I still have the bulge.  Do my inner thighs still rub together when I walk?  YES, gall-darn-it!  YES.

If I am being honest, I must admit I do see some results.  I....
1)  Can no longer lift my leg high enough to step on to the bathroom scale.
2)  Must call the cleaners to wash the sweat smell from the couch I land on after working out.
3)  Am painfully more aware that my toes won't be touchable until the inner tube is gone, and
4)  Am choosing clothing to wear based on minimal effort required to get dressed.

Any words of wisdom out there?  I could use the encouragement.  Like I said, there are 24 flippin days left of this particular video and I can't see the end in sight.  Help me out a little, k?

Maybe we could meet up at a donut shop and talk :)

Just so no one accuses me of cheating :)

Ok.  Let me explain.  I started the 30 day Shred on May 25th.  It wasn't until the next day that I started blogging, after my second workout.  So, I am truly on day 5, even though this is only my fourth posting.  I am glad that you asked since I needed to keep track for my own records.  I can hardly keep track of my age, let alone the number of consecutive days in the shredder.

Speaking of shredder... it's interesting the Jillian chose the word SHRED rather than shed.  When I think of shred, I envision paper going into a skinny slit and coming out in pieces.  That happens every time I try to slip into my wedding dress, except it's the dress that comes out in pieces.  Of course, a word like "shed" is too soft for this trainer of steal.  Shedding is too easy.  Horses do it.  Dogs do it.  Cats do it.  Even snakes do it.  Jillian wouldn't want us to be mistaken, believing that exercising and losing weight are as easy as changing your underwear (although, this household of boys seems to think changing one's underwear is as impossible as getting the dirty ones into the hamper consistently).  No girly, soft, squishy words like "shedding" are allowed in this exercise video.  No, friends.  With Jillian as our captain, we shred our bodies into shape.  This serves to confirm my suspicion that she was the bully from my grade school years.  I thought I saw that 'evil-eyed' glare before.

Ok, it's time to hit the showers.  Last night, after a very long day followed by the longest twenty minutes of my life in the shredder, I skipped the shower and hit the pillow.  That means I have a filmy two-day layer of sweat and dirt on this body.  Better get the ajax.