The Train Station...(aka The Bridal Diaries)...It Is What It Is...

I wish I was playing basketball right now.  That's the random thought that popped into my head as I stared at the cement wall, stretching out my burning thigh and trying to catch my breath.  I was at the gym, in the middle of a tortuous workout (with my trainer Zack) that was kicking the crap out of my legs.

We started this whole blessed event with knee lunges.  This is where I take a step, dip one knee down to the ground, then stand back up, step out with the other leg, dip the knee and stand back up, all while holding ten pounds in each hand.  I must do this about half the length of the gym and back again...three times.  I really shouldn't complain; Zack lets me do other miserable exercises in between, to show me that there are even more ways to make my thighs feel like jello. 

Rapidly following the lunges are the ever-so-lovely aerobically-challenging step up...step downs (on and off a stool) while carrying ten pounds in each hand.  Thirty times I must do this process...three sets.  But just to spice things up a bit between sets,  I get to do wall-sits for 30 seconds.  Of all the things that could make me swear, those dang-nasty wall-sits are at the top of the list.  I absolutely hate wall-sits.  This is where you have to lean your back against the wall then sit real low as if in a chair.  Oh, the burning and the trembling...and the pain...oy vey!  This is called muscle overload and apparently you want this to happen.  The muscle tissue has been ripped and torn apart, and now must work to restore itself, thus requiring energy...aka burn calories to do so.  I guess there is some truth to "no pain...no gain." 

I finished up the whole brutal thigh-beating with a 50 minute walk-run.  Ok, it was more walking than running, but  it's hard to do any movement when you can't feel your legs.

Any who, in my year's journey to a better me, I'm finding out that I'm a lot stronger than I thought I was...emotionally, physically and mentally.  When Zack did my measurements about 2 weeks ago, I lost inches everywhere (except my calves...I've always had big muscular calves) and I gained 3 inches in flexibility.  Total weight loss...(drum roll please)...4 pounds (wha...whah).

I knew that my weight hadn't changed much and I really didn't care at this point.  I looked different, I'm wearing smaller sized clothes now (rather hip, I might add), and I feel more confident.  I felt like "Mike", the green one-eyed creature from "Monsters Inc.", when he saw himself on the cover of the magazine.  It didn't even seem to bother him that most of his face was covered up by the UPC label...he was just so excited to be "on...the...cover...of... a...magazine!" 

The fact that I didn't lose any significant amount of weight didn't bother me at all;  I just relished in the fact that I lost a bunch of inches...I was shrinking...and I was doing it the hard way...blood, sweat (tons of it) and tears.

I was expecting the "disappointed with you" speech from Zack.  It would be hard to hear, but I was ready to own my lack of eating better.  After all, I thought to myself, 'it is what it is.'  But you know what?  He was really cool about it.  Although he did say that he had expected to see more weight loss, he was proud of me.  He looked at me with those piercing blue eyes and told me that tomorrow was a new beginning.

Aw...that softy.  I wanted to smack his arm and say "you like me...you want to train me....train me and like me", but I didn't, on account that it would totally freak him out.  Instead, I've been bringing him salads, made with lettuce, cucumbers and onions from the garden.  And I've been trying to be more responsible in eating better.  I'm coming to grips with the fact that eating well AND exercising is the only real healthy way to lose weight...who knew? 

As I continue along my path to health and healing, I will allow myself to enjoy food though.  I'm not going to become obsessed about my weight.  I'm almost 43 now, and my goals are different then they were when I was in my 20's or 30's.  I must be kind and forgiving to myself and not be pressured to fit a specific mold. 

I must take better care of myself, though, and Zack is helping me with that.  More importantly, God in his unfailing love and mercy is showing me that it's ok to love myself...for in doing so, I can then truly love others with the same love that I've received. 

However, me loving me is a very foreign concept; but I must allow God's grace to show me how.  To allow myself to see me as God does...his beautiful creation, created in his image, and loved beyond measure.  I have to tell you that doing all this is really hard for me; believing that God cares about me and wants to be involved in my healing process.

Well, gotta go now and put my words into action...as in walk/run/jog/walk/run/jog/ then a whole lot more of walking on the treadmill.  I have higher powers to which I must answer; the one WAY high up...and the one with the piercing blue eyes.