A Few Things I've Learned Lately

I tend to overanalyze just about everything anymore. I think about what I think about, if that makes any sense at all. I've been learning a few hard truths lately. These things are good for me to think through. I need to have these thoughts, they keep me going on the path I believe I should be on. 

1. I am a stubborn, clean freak. Ask the people who live in our home. I'm probably driving them crazy. Actually, I know that I am. Part of me hates that, part of me doesn't really know what to do with it. I'm working on my crazy, one day at a time. Does that dish left on the counter really need to freak me out all of the time? Shall it just rest there for a while? Should it? I haven't come to that conclusion quite yet. 

2. I miss my gym. We need to have the thick as thieves relationship that we once had. My thighs and the ever-encrouching love-handles will thank me one day. Going to Mexico with my work (ie swimsuit freak out time) is only 6 months away. Elliptical here I come. 

3. My will power kind of sucks. Vodka tonics are wonderful, right along with whatever carb I can get my hands on. It's a slow process of trying not to feel too deprived and accomplishing the task of still buttoning my pants every morning without any tears of agony and frustration being shed. 

4. I miss my band. We are sort of in pieces right now and far too often I realize that a piece of me really is missing when I don't let my songs be heard. (As cheesy as that may sound.) This problem must be remedied. I need to do the work. That's about it. 

5. I am a planner. As much as I loathe routine, it is the glue that holds my sanity together. I need to let go a bit more. I believe that would make every week far more enjoyable for myself and those around me. But, I already have half of my Christmas shopping done. So is this really a pro or con? I'm not so sure. 

I Want to Be a Loser

I know what you're thinking: What an emo title. What a great read for my Tuesday morning. Stay with me, I promise I will make some sort of sense. 

If any of you know me or have read my blog for any given amount of time, you probably know that I'm always on some sort of diet. I'm always scoping out the next meal plan or fitness routine. It is a struggle. My weight has been a constant force the past few years, a force to be reckoned with. A force that I cannot allow to sway my days any longer. 

I've been on a new plan and going to the gym very consistently as of late and I feel awesome. I feel awesome until the fateful time I step on the scale every week, only to be hit with the same darn number. My muscle mass is going up, my fat mass is going down, but still no budge. Not even a smidgen. It stares back at me like something that has been etched long ago into cement, never to change or morph. 

I'm sick of staring at that scale. I don't want to any more. I want to wake up every morning knowing that I'm feeding my body extremely well, taking care of it, lifting my weights, and sweating my butt off. That's all I need. That's really all I want. 

I still want to be a loser though. A loser of pounds. A gainer of muscle, confidence, and strength. My jeans are buttoning easier than they used to and I've had to wear a belt with my favorite blue jeans. I am not only a number. I am a strong women that is taking this one step at a time. 

As I was cooking my meals for the week last night, it really hit me. No more scale. No more measuring. No more stressing out and feeling miserable. Just living and breathing, sweating and enduring. That's it. Healthy meals, healthy habits, kick butt workouts. 

Simply put this morning: I want to be a loser. But, the scale and I are going to break up for a while. 

And I feel totally alright with that.