trying not to work out today

So I took the Real Age test, and it put me at 31, which is only 2 years older than I actually am. I'm okay with that, especially given that I have been an overweight smoker for nearly 15 years. But one of the things it red-flagged is my workout schedule. In a typical week, I do cardio Mon Wed Fri Sun and sometimes Sat and Thurs too, and I do weight training Tues Thurs and Fri, usually 45 minutes to an hour for each. I also do yoga 3x a week. I work at a restaurant, which means I'm on my feet about 30 hours a week. It does sound like a lot, when I put it like that.

I have previously read that you should work out 3-5x a week, and take 24-48 hrs between weight sessions. But, you know, I've been working out for 10 years at that pace; I decided it was time to pick it up. So I figured 2-a-days was the way to go. I kinda like it, actually--the endorphin high is nice, and I'm starting to get a much finer appreciation for the way all the muscles in my body connect and react to each other. But everything I read, and this Real Age test, indicates that I'm hitting it too hard. I would hate to think that my body is holding on to weight because I'm working out too hard, and I know firsthand that an injury can be catastrophic to your overall fitness level.

The problem is, I don't want to stop. I missed my aerobics class this morning, and I thought, okay, so I'll take today off. By the afternoon, I was all geared up to go the 4:30 class, but I got called into work; then got sent home. So here I am on the couch, thinking, I could do that kickboxing workout OnDemand that whupped me the other day. Or I guess I could do yoga, even though I kinda hate yoga and I only do it for the flexibility. It's just, if I sit here for much longer, or watch tv or read a book, there will be nothing else that occupies my evening, and I'll start drinking. Since I did go buy that bottle of vodka. Eh fuck it. I didn't get my two workouts in yesterday, and I probably won't tomorrow, plus I'm not working tonight, so that's like taking a break, right? So yoga then...and a little kickboxing .

Drinking my calories away

I had my first drink when I was 14. I was spending the night at Zaki Gopalani's house, (which is kinda weird, in retrospect) and I had three or maybe four screwdrivers out of his parents' liquer cabinet then passed out on the couch. Two weeks later, we did it again, and I fooled around with Ben Reubenstein on the floor behind the couch. All through high school, I drank rarely and badly, never becoming comfortable with the sensation of drunkenness. In college, it was much easier to smoke pot than it was to drink. I can drive high, but not drunk, and drinking would have required me to socialize beyond the few people I could handle hanging out with. My mother's parents were alcoholics. Maybe I should have said that first.

In 2006, an old friend moved back in to town. A drinker, and I drank with him. Then in 2007, my whole life exploded, and I sank like Artax into the Swamp of Sadness, drowning myself in vodka for...well, the last 3 1/2 years. I work in a bar, with a bunch of party people, which really facilitates the whole getting-wasted-every-night-of-the-week thing, and, well, I don't really have anything much to live for. I mean, I don't have any reason to be sober--I don't have children, or a partner, or a day job.

But goddamn, alcohol is totally killing me on the calorie count! Tonight, I drank about like I normally do--hell, less. Becca and I split 3 margs, then I had one on my own, plus a shot, which is like a thousand calories. Fucking vegetables and rice all day, and I'm over my calorie count because I got a little drunk. And still, I want to drink. I think--okay, I'll bring in vodka. I'll hide a flask. Vodka is low in calories! I'll learn to drink it straight! All of which is a terrible idea. I mean, wouldn't it just be easier to not drink?

Man, I wish I had some vodka in my freezer.

Really trying this time

Alright, so this is my first ever blog post! This is part of my overall commitment to actually, for real, finally trying to lose weight this time. Let me explain why this is significant.

My entire life, I have been big. As a child, I was just big, like tallest-kid-in-every-class-photo big, which made me a formidable sweeper and full-back but also germinated what I would call a Gulliver complex--always lost among the Lilliputs, hyper-conscious of my absurd massiveness. Then I hit puberty, which caused me to bloat and swell in a variety of bizarre ways. Ironically, this actually made me briefly quite popular with the boys in my class, most of whom were no taller than my shoulder. I did some serious damage to my knee when I was 14, which necessitated two surgeries and put me in a hip-to-ankle brace for the better part of two years. Inactivity and hormones, plus parental neglect, times the turmoil of adolescence, all combined to put me well over 200 lbs by my high school graduation.

I started working out when I was 19. 24-Hr Fitness suited my schedule; I could go out with my friends, work out, and still make it to Burger King before they closed. I went off to college the next year in a very small town in the middle of nowhere. I continued working out, but it didn't take long for me to gain the Freshman Fifteen...which rapidly became the Freshman Fifty. We all gained weight, but me more than most, despite the 90 minutes I spent in the gym each day. In high school, all my friends were boys, so of course they could eat like crap and get away with it, but in college I watched girls eat fries dipped in sour cream and never gain an ounce. I have many skills and talents, and have come to terms with most of my failings, but I still think I would trade pretty much anything for a metabolism that works.

In the eight years since I moved back to civilization, I have had limited success with losing weight. I love to work out. I'll do anything--aerobics, running (on an elliptical), swimming, weight training, kick-boxing, yoga, pilates, pylometrics--and I'll do it ten times a week. I'm strong, and no matter what the scale says I know my body functions better and feels better than ever. But I have a problem with food. As much as I love to exercise, I love to eat more; I love the chewing and the swallowing and the flavors and textures, I love it public and private, with friends or alone. My diet has improved in general, but I am susceptible to temptation; when my life is going badly, temptation is my best friend. Heartache tastes best with fried chicken and vodka-sevens.

But no more! Starting February 1st, I commited myself to staying under 2100 calories per day. And so far so good--not perfect, but pretty good overall. I haven't lost any weight yet, which is really frustrating, given that since February 1st I not only started my period, but had the stomach flu. But I really do feel good. I'm not sticking to any specific diet per se; just doing the whole grains, fruits and veggies, light dairy and lean meats thing. And mostly not drinking, which is proving just as difficult as I thought it would be. So I figured I would do this too, just to talk about it, since I don't really want to talk about it with my friends. Which would probably make a good subject for my next post.