Sayonara Saboteur

Throughout all of my many many MANY weight loss attempts, one factor contributing to my failure remains constant- my scale.  I get obsessed with it.  Every stall, or worse, gain (gasp!), creates a feeling of failure, and as an emotional eater, guess where I turn.  I stepped on the scale for the last time yesterday morning.  I'm still at a 9 pound weight loss, which is frustrating, because although I haven't been sticking to the ridiculous 500 calorie daily limit, I am eating an average of about 1000-1200 calories per day, which should still be restrictive enough for me to continue losing.  Whether I'm losing inches instead or just at a stall, that number is a daily reminder of how far I am away from being the healthy person I want to be.  Instead of focusing on the number, from now on, I'm going to focus on my fitness and energy levels.  I have been feeling much better since I've started eating cleaner, cutting carbs, and increased my calorie intake from the first week on the diet.  Oh, and I did walk with the entire family yesterday afternoon and discovered that my near death experience on Tuesday must have resulted from the heat, because I did much better with the cooler temp and overcast sky.  Anywho, I will weigh myself again at some point, but I will probably wait until I can feel a definite difference in my clothes, so whatever number pops up won't make or break my fitness plans.

Training Day 1: Dramatic Description of Events

Well, I did it.  I stuck by my word and started my training plan, and I almost goddamn died.  I spent 75% of the time convinced that I was going to throw up, pass out, or both.  These are the thoughts that went through my brain:

"Hey, this isn't so bad.  But it is kind of warm outside."
"Boy, that first hill was rough, but good for me for getting out here and moving."
"Geez, this second hill is really tough, and it's really getting hot out here."
"I'm glad I have my Ipod, although R.E.M.'s 'Bad Day' isn't very motivational when you're breathing heavy."
"I think I'm going to jog for a bit, since I'm going downhill anyway."
"Fuck.  That was a mistake. I'm walking from here on out."
"Jesus, I love Mumford and Sons, but 'The Cave' is kind of demotivating, and I'm starting to get suicidal."
"Thank God for Ke$ha, and Victoria's terrible taste in music, because my shit is too heavy to exercise to."
"Holy balls, why did I decide to walk in the middle of lunch hour, and why is there no breeze?"
"Oh my God, this was a mistake.  I think I'm going to die, but I will get to the end of the neighborhod."
"Yay for LMFAO and their stupid music.  I might just make it after all."
"I am too fat and out of shape for this shit."
"Oh my God, why did I walk to the end of the neighborhood?  Now I have to walk all the way back."
"Uh oh.  I am definitely going to vomit.  I can feel it in my throat.  Just keep moving, and keep your head down."
"Is is possible for your heart to actually explode in your chest, because I'm pretty sure that's about to happen."
"Fuck you, LMFAO.  You're not sexy, and you definitely don't work out.  You're skinny nerds with ridiculous hair and clothes. Why am I listening to you?"
"Why did I leave my cell phone at home?  How am I going to call the EMT when my heart explodes?"
"Here comes the vomit train again. I refuse to hop on board."
"I am definitely going to pass out.  Which patch of grass looks the softest?"
"Keep moving, or else these people are going to find you passed out in their yard."
"Oh my God, another fucking hill!  You have got to be kidding me!"
"This was the worst mistake of my life.  I cannot believe how much this feels like torture.  It's worse than that time I smoked that spice shit and thought I was going to die, because I really am going to die this time."
"Oh, thank God I can see my van from here!"
"Maintain.  Maintain.  Maintain.  You're almost there, and you can pass out on your couch."
"Jesus, I made it!  Oh, thank God!  Damn, I have to do this shit all over again on Thursday."

So, there you go.  I literally thought I would die the entire second half of my walk.  And I only walked 2.5 miles for 40 minutes.  But, at least I got off my lazy ass and did something.  So, the game plan for Thursday is to make sure I'm super hydrated, go earlier in the morning, and make sure I've eaten something to give me some fuel, because this was seriously the worst physical experience I can remember in a long time.  It's been an hour and a half since I finished, and my legs still feel like a baby deer's trying to learn to walk, my heart is finally slowing down, and my hearing is beginning to return.  I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure I had a stroke.