I'm still letting the scales dictate my mood. If they're dropping, I'm smiling. If they're not dropping, I'm gloomy and defeat-ist. Even Ashley, my Korezone trainer, noticed: "The only thing stopping you is your head," she said. "It's all up here." And she tapped her skull.
And, of course, she's right. But besides the pep talk, Ashley also gave me some extraodinary information about muscle, the stuff I'm building by pumping those #$%^&;* weights and doing those terrible reps and those $%^&&;**(!@ crunches and those horrid machines, which, by the way, always make me feel better about myself and my day.
So here's what she said.
Muscle weights more than fat. Yes, I've been told that before but Ashley really explained it. It takes more calories to make a muscled body move than it does to make a fat body move. So, if you have muscles and you move -- just everyday movement, walking talking sleeping (the easy stuff) -- it takes more energy to do and therefore more calories. If you are muscled your metabolism speeds up but your weight dosen't go down as fast as it would if you weren't building muscle.
I have a lot to learn. I know that I'm not doing enough cardio work, the actual fat burning stuff like running and sweating but I'm enjoying the muscle stuff and the yogo stretching stuff, too. I'm contemplating joining weightwatchers when I get back from my holiday (which I'm also a bit worried about) but we'll see how it all goes. To date, in six weeks I think I have lost somewhere between six-and-a-half to eight-and-a-half pounds. It's up and down, like that, day by day. Sometime my muscles weigh more, sometimes less.
Am I discouraged? The answer is sort of the same, sometimes yes, sometimes not. To be perfectly honest (and what else is there?) I thought the weight would fall off faster. I thought the thrice weekly workouts and twice weekly yoga classe would do the trick. Count 'em, that's five workouts a week as compared to maybe one post fifty workout. In someways, it has done the trick. My clothes are fitting looser, my double chin is less wobbly. Something is shifting but I'm not quite sure what it is yet. It could be my attitude or my sense of self. Will I still loose 50 pounds in 50 weeks? Well, so far, I'm right on course and that's the way I intend to stay...
Stay tuned
More muscled Margaret
Remember that triumphant nine I bandied around so freely a week or so ago? Remember that number of pounds that slipped effortlessly from my frame before the first month was up? Forget it. It isn't so. The number, as we stand today, is closer to seven. Seven, still a good number, seven, still something to be happy about but not nine, nein nine. C'est la vie.
There, after mixing my French with my German I will reiterate what I initally said at the beginning of my blog/post -- This is not about numbers. (Bare with this post and you'll be treated to a real mixed metaphor). Numbers be damned. I'm finishing up week five of my committment to health and, guess what? I feel healthier. Some of my clothes fit a bit better, some of my joints seem a little more lubricated, even my muscles feel bigger. I feel better for doing this good thing for myself. No, I'm not going to drop weight quickly. In fact I might not reach my goal at the end of fifty weeks, but I'm going to keep trying. I'm going to continue to move my old bones in new ways. I'm going to go to the gym as much as I can. I'm going to continue to be inspired by the gals at Korezone who have made a lifelong committment to fitness and are sharing it with others.
One of the owners said to me recently: "Isn't it amazing that we live in a world where people call it a luxury or an indulgence to talk care of the vessel that holds our spirits." (OK, she didn't say it quite like that, but you get my drift) And how true it is. My vessel is pretty lumpen right now. If my old body were a house for my spirit it would be pretty ramshackle, pretty sprawling, a little on the run-down side. The walls would buldge with old unread newspapers, the floor would tilt, the roof would bag, the veranda would be certainally askew but, so what? My spirit would still welcome people. And it still will, as I fix up the broken stairs, patch the roof, steady and straighten the old walls. I'm fixing up my house that is my body that is the container for my heart. I want the outside to reflect the inside. More later. Right now I have to cook something for my family. Something hearty and healthy and satisfying. And the change will come, slowly, slowly, it will come. M
