tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82588765841062877682024-03-05T05:15:55.812-08:00minding my own fitbitnessChronicles of my journey from flab to fit using the Fitbit that I'm sure spies on me, cheats me out of steps and posts pics online behind my back! JOIN ME! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-70751986185016937472015-08-05T07:42:00.000-07:002015-08-05T07:42:52.000-07:00Sulking to the Max<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeisjGvv1oHfPmslIBS7EFdmjRtnTxfalM8rL66bxWIWdR_aUWMYKbwoePOnmX1iDaCdwzmwweinwUP7KzjPtIr7GTCgWXek8OB141SdoCcYEboTPFnral41oGkj2o9KiEAkdP-CaUvOQ/s1600/17506310_s%253Asulking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeisjGvv1oHfPmslIBS7EFdmjRtnTxfalM8rL66bxWIWdR_aUWMYKbwoePOnmX1iDaCdwzmwweinwUP7KzjPtIr7GTCgWXek8OB141SdoCcYEboTPFnral41oGkj2o9KiEAkdP-CaUvOQ/s640/17506310_s%253Asulking.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Wow! That was a long sulk! I haven't posted on here since June because I couldn't see the keyboard with my bottom lip hanging out so far.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As you probably can't even remember by now, I fell at the airport back in April while doing <i>so</i> <i>well </i>meeting my Fitbit goals. The injury to my knee was a lot more severe than I was prepared to believe and as a result, I kept setting myself back by not being patient enough while my body <i>tried </i>to heal itself. Re-injuring myself through sheer stubbornness made it take even longer to recover which, of course, caused another round of sulking.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At some point during the "crazy" cycle it became necessary to admit that I wasn't the bionic woman after all! Who knew? Once I really let that sink it and faced the fact that recovery is a miracle to be revered and respected instead of cursed and rushed I <i>finally </i>calmed down and let it happen.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The fact that I have a body that can and does heal itself from injuries is a stand alone <i>something to be grateful for.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Fitbit - having been cast aside completely for it's abusive reminders of what I could no longer do, is stapped back on. What isn't strapped back on however is the compulsiveness with which I first approached getting fit.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What started out to be an exercise is loving myself into better shape turned instead into punishing and berating myself for having fallen. I was amazed at how much anger surfaced over what seemed to be "the injustice of it all." </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have accidents. It's not like I don't - but usually it's because I'm not paying attention or I'm rushing or any number of other self imposed circumstances. Those I handle and move on. I can see the message in them - slow down, be more mindful, stay present etc. Falling over a faulty floor mat at the airport seemed like an attack rather than an accident. I wanted someone to blame! I blamed the rug. I blamed the airport. I blamed the company responsible for the mats in the first place. Strangely, the airport, the mat, and the mat company went merrily on their way. All that blaming did them no harm at all. My being angry at them didn't close their doors and send them plummeting into bankruptcy as punishment for their crime! No - blaming didn't bring about the justice I felt I was due.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Guess what? Justice - even when we do get it - doesn't heal injuries. Only time, patience, and in some cases medical intervention can do that.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Having plenty of<i> time </i>to reflect on the whole experience has brought the peace I was looking for. It turns out the same old lessons - the ones I was still wasn't learning - were still being taught ( just with a bit more emphasis.) If I had slowed down, paid attention, and been present in the moment, maybe, just maybe, I would have noticed the rug being curled up <i>before </i>crashing down onto my knee needed to bring it to my attention.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">While I wouldn't wish this experience on any of you, I will share with you the benefits.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I've become amazed and grateful for the miraculous body I get to live in. Its complexity awes me. I've leaned that impatience is NOT a virtue and even worse, it's totally pointless. Being impatient does nothing to speed up the things we're impatient about. It only serves to upset us while we wait - which we're going to do anyway! I've developed a deep gratitude for the function of my joints that I have enjoyed for all these years with little notice of how important they are and how well they serve me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">All that's happened, as upsetting as it was at the time, did less to set me back than my attitude toward what happened. Falling didn't cause me to eat junk again. Anger and frustration did. I didn't gain a few pounds back because my knee was injured. I gained them back because I let the injury get the best of me and stuffed down my irritation with chocolate instead of asking the all important question that could have settled me down: What am I suppose to learn from this?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My knee? It's doing so much better. It's not where it was before the fall, but it's getting better day by day - and I'm letting it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">How about you? How do you handle setbacks? Do you ask the question earlier and rest in peace or do you find yourself in a tailspin like I did?</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-80828240730924386372015-06-12T16:23:00.001-07:002015-06-12T16:32:24.505-07:00Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Learn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><b>All human plans are subject to ruthless revision by Nature, or Fate,
or whatever one preferred to call the powers behind the Universe.
- Arthur C. Clark</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">As it is with so many things in life, progress doesn't happen on a straight upward trajectory. It's more like a zigzag line with some of the ups going higher than others and some of the downs lower. That's exactly what's happening with my<a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/05/thwarted.html" target="_blank"> recovery from the knee injury</a> I sustained after tripping over curled up floor mat at the airport entrance. (It's the 1 month anniversary of the fall and somehow I'm still not in the mood to celebrate.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">While writing my last post, I felt that I was well down the <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/05/rebound.html" target="_blank">road to recovery</a>. At the time, I'd come off a nice stretch of days with schedules that allowed lots of time for elevating and icing. That process allowed me to get my Fitbit step totals close to where I'd left off. How I wish life could always go according to my schedule. (And other fantasies I entertain.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Then, my mother-in-law, at 96 years old, passed away suddenly. At 96, you don't imagine that losing someone you love would be an <i>unexpected</i> thing - but it was. We'd just been out for dinner the night before, and though she seemed tired, nothing could have predicted what was to come. Just the the day before that she'd been in great spirits and perkier than I'd seen her in quite some time. After dinner we took her back to the senior facility where she lived, said we loved her, and promised to see her again soon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The next afternoon my husband received the call that she was gone. She was putting together a puzzle just 20 minutes beforehand. I don't need to explain the flurry of activity that surrounds the passing of a loved one to anyone who's been through it. It all seems to happen in a surreal kind of mindlessness as our brains and hearts try to wrap themselves around a new reality that we didn't ask for or want.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">There are so many parallels between my mother-in-law passing and my being injured. Both happened at a time when we each had other plans. I was leaving on a much anticipated vacation and she was working a puzzle. An injury was as far from my mind as I'm sure death was from hers. One minute I was walking through the door toward the check-in and the next I was on the floor in pain - and Mom - never finished that puzzle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">From the second that each of these events happened, my "regularly schedule life" was put on hold and a new version was put into play.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The immediate moments after the injury, and also Mom's passing, happened in the same surreal mindlessness. So many thoughts and feelings flooded my senses - the first of which was disbelief. The fall, being on the floor, feeling embarrassed and hurt didn't seem possible given the circumstances just seconds before. Either did the idea of Mom not being just as we left her the evening before.Then adrenalin kicked in. I couldn't feel the severity of the injury for about 15-20 minutes afterwards. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">After learning that Mom had passed that same shock set in. We went to the center, were met by the workers there, talked to paramedics, police, and even grief councilors that came along with the sheriffs department. All of these things happened in a daze. It was interesting how differently my husband and I processed those moments. He became hyper and super talkative. I didn't want to look at or talk to anyone. I just wanted to be alone with Mom and then when her body had been taken, I wanted to go home - not talk about it to strangers - even if they were trained grief counselors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">This recent period in my life has reminded me repeatedly of how silly we are to believe that we have life <a href="http://blog.lifeisntbroken.com/2015/05/the-illusion-of-control.html" target="_blank">"under control."</a> Admittedly, I needed to learn this lesson more than most. I'm a certifiable control freak. My children posted the following on my refrigerator at one point: <b><i>If you want peace in your life, resign as general manager of the universe. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Once again, life has shown me who's boss. I still have my fitness goals clearly in mind. I'm not giving up. Even though I'm walking only half the steps I was before my injury and often get frustrated at the speed of my progress, I'm determined to go forward.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Going through these life detouring experiences has made me realize that I'm not racing anyone - <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/04/game-on.html" target="_blank">except my sister </a>- and even that's in fun. Life happens. It happens<i> around</i> us. It happens<i> to</i> us. It happens (especially in my case)<i> in spite of </i>us. I'm learning to accept that I can only control my intentions and actions toward those intentions. Even then, I have to be ready in a second to change my actions when circumstance calls for it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I'm asking myself questions like: In the grand scheme of things, how awful is it even if it takes a <i>few</i> months to fully recover so that I can resume full activity? What do I need to learn from these experiences? What might I be missing that was so important that I needed to be slowed down to notice? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I don't believe that any experience is wasted if we learn from it - no matter how difficult or frustrating it may be. Hopefully I'll learn well this time so life won't need to keep teaching me over and over again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">How about you? How do you handle life's detours on your fitness and other goals? </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-72851733611836801222015-05-30T16:17:00.002-07:002015-05-30T16:17:28.577-07:00Rebound!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">Life is not about how fast you run, or how high you climb, but how well you bounce.</span></span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">-Unknown </span></span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">I have been remiss on keeping you up to date on my recovery from <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/05/thwarted.html" target="_blank">"the fall of doom"</a> out of fear of boring the daylights out of you.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">Progress sometimes happens slowly and even imperceptibly and that's how my progress has gone. The odd thing about seemingly </span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">imperceptible</span></span></span> progress is that it adds up! While I wasn't paying attention my recovery moved ahead by leaps and bounds. (No, <i>I'm</i> not leaping and bounding yet, just my recovery is.) So much so that I've strapped the Fitbit back on and am counting my steps again. Heck! I'm even <i>calling</i> them steps again! </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">Two days ago I logged 5,329 steps and yesterday I was at 7,448! That may seem pitiful to you but to me it's exciting. When I consider how hard it was, when my Fitbit was brand new, to hit my <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-knows-when-you-are-sleeping.html" target="_blank">initial 5,000 step goal</a> and how much longer it took to reach 10,000 steps I can see that all the work I'd done (that I complained wasn't doing much) was actually making a difference. That I'm starting <i><b>back</b> </i>much better than I started<i> <b>out</b></i> is proof of the progress I'd made.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">The knee is not quite ready for prime time yet. There are still some moves (tying shoes by crossing my leg, walking <i>down</i> stairs and actually kneeling) that still aren't happening yet but hey, I can walk and walking is what I want to be doing. I'd be more upset if Fitbit gave badges for shoe tying and I was missing out!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">I'm impressed by the resilience of the human body. Its ability to bounce back from injury is amazing (especially when the injured party has a husband committed to keeping her from being stupid during recovery). The human spirit has the same capacity but not always the same success. I guess that's because we have a choice in how we view and respond to the circumstances that kick us down. We can choose to dwell - which is like not resting and re-injuring ourselves-or deal with them and allow ourselves to recover and move past them.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">I had the same mental choice associated with this physical injury. My knee was going through its process of healing. My attitude toward that process - I have to be honest - came and went. I don't do boredom well, and patience is something I haven't developed patience for yet. This injury has been a great lesson for me in the importance of patience in processes over which we have limited control.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">There were times when I decided "enough is enough" with the sitting around. I'd hop up and begin to do more. I'd even try to <i>force</i> my knee to bend in ways it wasn't ready to bend on its own. The result was a lot more sitting around the next day.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq"><a href="http://blog.lifeisntbroken.com/2015/05/the-illusion-of-control.html" target="_blank">Giving up control</a> is not an easy thing for many of us and downright grievous to some (who will remain unnamed). There are times, however, that giving up control is the only option we have to achieve the best outcome. That's what I (Oops! I mean the "unnamed person") finally came to accept.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">By giving up control, changing my focus, and accepting a timetable that was not of my choosing, my knee has made a lot of progress. I'm going to examine other areas of my life to see where this same principle may also be the answer.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">How about you? Have you ever had to just suck it up and go with the flow? How did you cope? How easy or hard was it? </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="sqq">FOOTNOTE: As I tried to stand up and leave my office, I found my knee had stiffened up considerably after being bent under my desk for too long. I guess it's more ice for little miss 7,448 steps and back to the laptop with the leg up when writing! (Shhh! Did you hear something that sounded like patience? No? Me either!) Sigh!</span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-39578466755969390972015-05-20T20:11:00.002-07:002015-05-21T11:03:37.137-07:00Thwarted! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">“You may think you've hit rock bottom in your life but guess what—there's more crud underneath those rocks.”
<br /> - Richelle E. Goodrich</span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Remind me, friends, to never again complain about the monotony of the getting fit process. I SO miss the boredom and tedium that I was complaining about in <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/05/the-dogged-doldrums.html" target="_blank">my last post</a>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">See that poor girl above who has apparently fallen down and hurt her knee on what appears to be a lovely autumn day in a beautiful park? Well, that's not me. If I was that thin I wouldn't be knocking myself out with my Fitbit! (At least not as strenuously.) </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Actually the only thing we two share is a wounded knee. I didn't even get the benefit of beautiful surroundings to comfort my anguish. Instead, I got what's pictured below.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><img alt="Click for Options" class="Thumb" 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" 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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Culprit! </span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yes my friends, that is a picture of the curled up rug on the floor just inside the door of Midway Airport in Chicago last Tuesday that grabbed the toe of my shoe and sent me hurling downward - landing me squarely on my right knee. (It looks so innocent doesn't it? HA!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Funny how our best laid plans can be laid waste in the twinkle of a curled up rug! On my agenda for our trip to visit family in Utah was NOT a trip to the E.R. on the first morning. Neither was dragging a lifeless, braced, limb behind me everywhere I went. Be that as it may, that's what I did.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'd been doing <i>so</i> well! I was hitting my step goals, making gains in endurance and stamina, and had even lost a few pounds through all my efforts. I'm sure you can imagine how frustrating it is to now be on the ice it, elevate it, and rest it regime without any clear indication of how long it takes to heal - what turned out to be - a severely bruised patella. (What's even more painful is the steps <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/04/game-on.html" target="_blank">my sister is gaining on me</a> during healing. If she loved me, she'd just sit and wait. Right?)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I haven't even strapped on my Fitbit for the past two days because I know myself well enough to know that I'd be push it just for the step count. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I hoped by the end of my week long vacation I'd be back up to speed. My knee had a different plan. I still can't bend it completely and it's stiff and tender. Today I noticed that the range of motion is better than it was two days ago so I'm clinging to incremental improvements and trying once again (failing miserably) to nurture patience.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've gained a whole new appreciation for why people actually hire personal injury attorneys through this adventure. I don't want to own an airport, just to find out whose insurance covers medical bills for accidents in the airport. Just the process of figuring out <i>how</i>
to file a person injury claim itself causes <i><b>mental anguish!</b></i> A week
later and after no less than ten redirects, I was finally connected to a department that handles such claims. They asked
me questions like:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1. Didn't you see the curled up rug?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(Because there's nothing else to be looking for while dragging luggage behind you and trying to figure out where to check in.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2. What kind of shoes were you wearing?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(Apparently there must be a special curled rug proof variety)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3. Do you wear glasses? (Wearing or not wearing glasses apparently has an effect on curling rugs?)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4. What was your position when you fell. (Down. I thought that would be a given.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After all the questions I was told they'd review my claim and if it was <i>deemed valid</i>, they'd give me a case # to file with my insurance company. WHO decides if it's valid? Apparently not the lame person whose vacation was hijacked by a rug!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There have been some silver linings however. I've learned how un-boring the miracle of the motion that I took for granted is. Our bodies are amazing. Even the process of healing is itself a miracle. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I feel blessed to have a supportive husband who does everything in his power to make me feel comfortable and keeps me from being stupid during recovery.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've learned how important it is to take care of myself. I'm sure I'm healing better as a result of the walking I'd done before the fall. My muscles were stronger going in and that can't be a bad thing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On my worst day, I have many times more things to be thankful for than to complain about and when I focus on those things, I understand that this too will pass and, in time, I'll be able to start again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We have absolutely no control in life. To think we do is purely pride mixed with illusion. The best we can do is make our best plans and roll with what actually happens.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> All of us at one point end face up in a ditch, but only a few will choose to look up at the stars and dream. -
Shannon L. Alder</span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lets be among the dreamers! Shall we?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Have you ever had to come back from a setback on your road to fitness? I'd love to hear how you coped. Please comment below. Reading doesn't hurt a bit!</span><i><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></b></i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-56566499538427376412015-05-10T19:57:00.000-07:002015-05-10T19:57:42.155-07:00The Dogged Doldrums <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RmgtuVkEkDRSC7qb7Lw2LM0GtfVQu-U3vro8ly9Rje29SB_NVIZwPpj6EmQSMW9XS-0jiQS2t4ngNELJWEtvW31Lc4k7GyKacXf5nC67vIS1IttYKAIzoTq9H1n4BVBc-UUcfOl0LzE/s1600/26012476_s:saddog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RmgtuVkEkDRSC7qb7Lw2LM0GtfVQu-U3vro8ly9Rje29SB_NVIZwPpj6EmQSMW9XS-0jiQS2t4ngNELJWEtvW31Lc4k7GyKacXf5nC67vIS1IttYKAIzoTq9H1n4BVBc-UUcfOl0LzE/s640/26012476_s:saddog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span class="sqq">The two foes of human happiness are pain and boredom. - Arthur Schopenhauer</span></b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">Look at that face. <i><b>That</b>,</i> is a sad face. A bored face. An impatient, "let's get on with it already" face. That's the face I saw looking back at me in the mirror today. (In my own defense, I did comb my hair right after that picture was snapped.)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">Patience is a virtue. It's not <b><i>my</i></b> virtue - but I've heard it's a great one! I'd love to claim it. I even make noises like I'm working toward it, but truthfully - with A.D.D. patience probably won't be what I'm know for in this life. (I just shuddered wondering if driving away with the bank tube or going through the car wash with a fully packed luggage carrier still attached to the car might be?! Nah! Those are nothing compared to crazy gluing my top lip to my teeth. Whew!) </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">I have a hard time participating in anything beyond tedium and I'm afraid today I'm feeling like this "getting fit" thing is a bit tedious.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">I should qualify that. I'm still going through the motions. Still working 3X a week with free weights. Still averaging my 10,000 steps a day. Fitbit is keeping me honest that way, but measurable progress seems slow to appear.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">I keep telling myself if I do the work, the results will come. In fact I <i>believe</i> that each workout has caused results whether those results are measurable or not. I just wish they'd show up TODAY for crying out loud. I'd even settle for Tuesday. Tuesday would be good. (See I can have patience if I need to.)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">It's easy to forget that my clothes are looser than they were because I've gotten use to the new feel of them. I have to wash my jeans each time I wear them to keep them from slipping down (and before, I avoided washing them at all costs just to keep them from getting tighter.)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">Spending each day with myself, it's hard to see the miniscule differences - to feel the slight improvements in my fitness. I guess this is where dogged determination kicks in - during the dogged doldrums. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">I've heard it said that character is following through with something once the emotion that provoked it has worn off. This all started because of my upcoming high school reunion but it's become about much more. It's become about a better quality of life. It's about being independent and self sufficient as long as possible, and enjoying instead of dreading my "golden" years. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">So yes, today I'm bored with the idea of getting fit. I'm tired of the<b><i> slow </i></b>pace at which it seems to be happening, and even the competition between my sister and me has settled to a simmer instead of a rolling boil. (That's probably a good thing since crazy isn't sustainable long term.)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">I'm going to sally forth, however, in the hopes that one day, while I'm not paying attention, fitness will happen. Now that I think of it, that's how getting out of shape happened. I didn't see that coming either. It was a gradual process of bad choices over a <b><i>long </i></b>period of time until BAM! - I was a couch potato. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="sqq">Have you gone through the fitness doldrums? How did you fight back? Throw me a bone here will ya? </span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-8784712626808623752015-05-02T11:45:00.003-07:002015-05-07T11:27:53.504-07:00Sanity Over Speed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfEXp2Oeuz2Ic4bOyem5iO3NyYQb3c0pRk33SWzHj7vR7BVAHtVTOmC3s4yhA6GElDFdZSGITTyUGS-U3LLg_jv-I7BU1JoQErq7APvZZCusHDkldV4pNtrrNmf4FvAdR6d6VR3J9eHw/s1600/17244932_s:manrunningwithcell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfEXp2Oeuz2Ic4bOyem5iO3NyYQb3c0pRk33SWzHj7vR7BVAHtVTOmC3s4yhA6GElDFdZSGITTyUGS-U3LLg_jv-I7BU1JoQErq7APvZZCusHDkldV4pNtrrNmf4FvAdR6d6VR3J9eHw/s1600/17244932_s:manrunningwithcell.jpg" height="580" width="640"></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>I may be crazy but it keeps me from going insane. -Waylon Jennings</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In my last update, I extolled the virtues of surrounding yourself with <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/04/just-when-i-thought-it-was-safe.html" target="_blank">people who challenge you.</a> In this post I'd like to add some constraints to that wisdom.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i> </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Yes, it's definitely important to be challenged, so finding people who challenge us is a great thing provided they're not also trying to kill us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">As I pointed out in my last post, I was challenged by a group of 8 strangers, who are Fitbit users, to a "Workweek Hustle" where all contestants measure their progress against that of the others in the group. There's some good news and bad news to report. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">First the good news. I logged over 63,000 steps in 5 days. That's more steps than I've logged since 2010 all added together. I burned copious calories, walked many, many miles and came in second in the challenge. Yay me!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now for the bad news. My body hates me. In my race to the finish against people who, for all I know, are 20 years old and already at peak fitness, I overdid it big time. The result is that today, by 2:17 p.m. I've logged a total of 1086 very painful steps. I'll probably lose ground today instead of gaining ground. Compound that with the possibility that I've scared off my sister - by best competition of all - and it's definitely been a win/lose experience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Text from sister:</b> I can't keep up your "young" pace. (This from the sister who is a mere 11 months older than me.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Text to sister:</b><i><b> I</b></i> can't keep up with my young pace! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">All in all, I'm glad I did it. It taught me a few important lessons (that I'll appreciate a lot more when I can move again.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1. Some things can't be rushed. Fitness is one of them. I can get thin quickly, but not healthily and at my age health is more important that pant size.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">2. If I'm going to accept a challenge, know who and what I'm up against. It was really silly to beat myself up to impress people I will never even meet. I had no way of knowing how our fitness levels matched up or any other facts that would have made my decision to participate more informed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">3. I have to be careful what I say yes to. Once I commit, I'm in. It should have been easy enough to say "No big deal, this isn't working out for me." and gone back to my own workable pace but nooooo. That's not how I operate. I'm great about keeping promises to other people - not so much myself sometimes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">4. Know when I have a good thing going. My competition with my sister and niece was already keeping me on my toes and making me stretch. I'd have avoided rigor mortis if I'd let myself improve gradually and wouldn't have lost a day to recovery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">While it's been said:</span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">No man is <em>sane</em> who does not know how to be insane on proper occasions. </span></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">-</span><span class="st">G.B. Burgin </span></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">I think </span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">I'll be wiser going forth in choosing my "crazy" moments.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">On an up note: My clothes are getting looser, I'm sleeping like a champ, I'm able to do a lot more with less effort, and I have more energy than I've had in a long time. (That's not to say I've reached "Energizer Bunny" levels yet, but hey, I can dream right?)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">So I'm going to end this check in with my new mantra: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st"><i><b>It doesn't matter what speed you run, just run! - Medana Cox</b></i> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">(or walk as the case may be.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="st">Till next time you'll find me limping to the finish line! </span></span><b><i></i></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-45271406454446629382015-04-29T05:21:00.001-07:002015-04-29T08:40:50.393-07:00Just When I Thought It Was Safe...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79Qy9ElbYaLSHeqiTgFRySxcOP1Prblkr52cGkXxqzrDWVovNXhLWE71CtTar73pZsjtkKBHFfaJUdAq2xCVrazQ7T7wRX-OaLNgtxN7BU80ln2knXQA371CcW83zDuHYzp4hEHx-tv0/s1600/8810532_s:scaredeyes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79Qy9ElbYaLSHeqiTgFRySxcOP1Prblkr52cGkXxqzrDWVovNXhLWE71CtTar73pZsjtkKBHFfaJUdAq2xCVrazQ7T7wRX-OaLNgtxN7BU80ln2knXQA371CcW83zDuHYzp4hEHx-tv0/s1600/8810532_s:scaredeyes.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly. -Robert F. Kennedy</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Starting any exercise program can be harrowing. It's often made me ponder these two questions:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b> </b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>1. WHY DO WE EVER GET OUT OF SHAPE.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>2. ONCE WE DO, WHY DO WE EVER TRY TO GET BACK INTO SHAPE? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Seriously! It's not like trying to get back into shape isn't an exercise in self abuse. It's painful. It's exhausting. It's humiliating, and the process is so painfully slow that it takes the patience of a saint to hang in there till our efforts begin to show even the slightest improvement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have two friends with an interesting take on this. The first says: "I didn't have to work too hard to put this fat on so it doesn't seem fair that I should have to put in so much effort to get it off." She has a point. (But when she combs her hair <i>just</i> so, no one even notices.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The second friend said: The most liberating day of my life was the day I could stop asking "Do I look fat in this?" because the answer will always be yes.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sadly, I <b><i>did</i></b> get out of shape and now I'm trying to regain some degree of fitness and it hasn't been without trials. At first, my body creaked and complained with each attempt at exercise. My brain worked overtime thinking of great excuses to put it off <b><i>just one more day</i></b> but after strapping on my Fitbit I've never looked back, (except to see if my sister or niece are on my heels trying to overtake my step total.) I've fought back against the reluctance of my flab, persevered, and finally hit my stride.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was reaching my daily step goals and keeping up with my kinswomen on a pretty regular basis. The 10,000 steps that seemed impossible in the beginning became a daily routine and THEN - just as I was safely settled into my <i>brand new</i> comfort zone, a whole new challenge presented itself. A group of complete strangers challenged me to a competition. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I could have pretended the email went to my spam file - or that there was some cyber goof and just ignored it. (There are days my feet and legs wish I had done just that!) These people - a group of 8 - make my sister and niece look perfectly sane and if you've read my prior posts you know that's <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/04/game-on.html" target="_blank">not even close to the truth!</a> They are <i>mostly</i> a group of no holds barred, take no prisoners, fitness aficionados! I find myself checking my progress against the grid often because if I blink someone has overtaken me and I'm up and running again! I'm wondering if they invited me in the beginning just to make themselves look good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b> Being challenged in life is inevitable, being defeated is optional</b></i>. <i><b>-Roger Crawford</b></i></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Is this easy? Heck no. But then again, how long would I have made any progress if I'd found a groove and stuck there? I'd already found a groove before Fitbit. A comfy, cozy groove that was getting tighter and tighter against my hips and thighs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The new group is made of up both men and women who are all fiercely competitive, with the exception of Katy who seems to at least get off the couch with some degree of regularity if only to use the restroom and get ice-cream. So far the women are beating up on the men with reckless abandon. Jason's pride seems to be kicking in now and he and I are usually neck in neck. (Even as I type, he's sneaked past me again.) Curses!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b> </b></i><b></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">There is one woman in the group, we'll call her Lyn, (because that's her name,)<i><b> </b></i><b></b>who is either<i><b> </b></i>a track star who spends all day running or a stay at home mom who's put her Fitbit on her 4 year old because she's racking up CRAZY step totals that make the rest of us look like we're having ice-cream with Katy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">As hard as it is to keep up at the moment, I'm right where I need to be and here's why:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are? -T.S. Eliot</b></i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">and </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Always choose people that are better than you. Always choose people that
challenge you and are smarter than you. Always be the student. Once you
find yourself to be the teacher, you’ve lost it. -Sandra Bullock</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">and </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b></b></span>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. -Helen Keller</b></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can't stand still and grow (or in this case shrink). I need to continue to stretch myself and my commitment to living a more active life. I may never hit Lyn's step totals but I'm pretty sure I was a lot closer to Katy's when I started and I didn't believe I'd make it this far back then either so who knows?! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm proud to report that yesterday I finished in 2nd place with Jason close on my heels. Lyn wiped the floor with all of us so I'm pretending she's an outlier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm excited to see what the future holds - more excited than I've been in a long time. I love knowing I'll have the energy for it no matter what it is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The invitation is still open to jump in anytime you're ready. Post your progress on here and share your glitches and glories. The accountability of having to report to all of you helps me keep putting one foot in front of the other. Until next time - keep moving!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-40759099439633074932015-04-25T11:43:00.002-07:002015-04-25T11:43:36.278-07:00Lost and Found<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIw6pFz8fxPTW82-XLJpr39nbTW-qsEA1U9snH9E0sG4Xw1OCKy_9zrO8p_bhvYOvZeGrrl9KM_0yGW_ovzm4D2HDG6BGmhVOi2Tt6ajaHUHadsC8yvD7Tp7-o7tW9WgPmKRnBra-fCSI/s1600/22250853_s:lostandfound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIw6pFz8fxPTW82-XLJpr39nbTW-qsEA1U9snH9E0sG4Xw1OCKy_9zrO8p_bhvYOvZeGrrl9KM_0yGW_ovzm4D2HDG6BGmhVOi2Tt6ajaHUHadsC8yvD7Tp7-o7tW9WgPmKRnBra-fCSI/s1600/22250853_s:lostandfound.jpg" height="640" width="570" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
- Edmund Spenser,</b></i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> This has been a harrowing week. I've written on my two other blogs about <a href="http://blog.lifeisntbroken.com/2015/04/on-loving-and-loss.html" target="_blank">love and loss</a> and <a href="http://blog.compassionatecures.com/2015/04/compassion-through-grief.html" target="_blank">compassion through grieving</a> after losing two dear women that I loved and having attended their respective funerals. I write to help me come to terms with and make sense of the events that happen around me. It's a great way to process my feelings.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Well today, I'm writing about love and loss on this blog but it fits perfectly into what this blog is about. My adventures and misadventures of getting fit and using a Fitbit tracking device to keep me honest. (As honest as a device can keep me. It wasn't able to rat me out for the cupcake I ate yesterday so no one knows - shoot! They do now!)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Today while I was merrily on my way to kicking my sister and nieces hindquarters on the Fitbit Weekend Warrior Challenge, tragedy struck. I'd already walked a mile and was up to over 4000 steps by 10:00 A.M. I came back inside to revel in what I'd added to that total by working in the yard for over an hour, only to find that my device wasn't updating. I shut down the app and restarted it to see if that would clear the issue. No dice. I started running around to see if my iPhone would record my latest steps but still nothing. That's when I noticed that my device had stopped recording because it wasn't on my wrist anymore.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It felt like I'd lost another someone dear to me! It was the insult icing on the injury cake I'd been eating all week. <a href="http://www.mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/i-didnt-want-to-love-you.html" target="_blank">I didn't start out loving this device.</a> As a matter of fact <a href="http://www.mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-knows-when-you-are-sleeping.html" target="_blank">I was pretty suspicious of it.</a> Over time however it had step counted and rewarded it's way pretty solidly into my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I ran back outside and retraced my steps in the yard, (probably hitting my 10,000 step goal in the process and getting <b><i>NO </i></b>credit for any of it.) The search was fruitless. I even emptied the yardwaste can where I'd put all the weeds, grass, and leaves I'd taken up and searched through it. My beloved Flex was not to be found. My husband went back to the track we'd walked earlier in the day even though I knew I'd had it since we'd been back. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'd only had my Fitbit for a bit over a month and we'd grown so close. I texted my sister to tell her the sad news. Her reply was "Noooooooo! Search high and low! Did you throw it away?" I think she <b><i>likes</i> </b>this accountability thing we have going as much as I <b><i>need</i></b> it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So - completely defeated, I determined I couldn't go on without Fitbit. I was going to go right out and replace it, but first, I wanted to let Fitbit know how unhappy I was to have to be doing this after just over a month, so I called customer service. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The guy who answered was totally sympathetic - like he understood my sense of loss. After a brief hold while checking my account, he said the first thing he wanted to try was to see if he could help me locate my present tracker. He immediately sent me an email with a link to an app that would use my iPhone to track the Fitbit's bluetooth signal. If that didn't work within 24 hours, I was to phone back and he'd help me further.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I downloaded the app right away and started the treasure hunt. Using the app is like playing hot or cold to find an item. It has bars that light up as you get closer to the signal and fades as you get further away. I got no signal anywhere except near the yardwaste can that I'd already dumped. Hoping not to have to do <i><b>that </b></i>again, I kept moving around the yard and watching the signal - fade away the further I got away from the inevitable yuk work.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband joined me for the second dumping. I held the phone with one hand and picked through the weeds, leaves and dirt with the other. As we got further into the mess, the signal picked up until finally my Fitbit emerged from a gnarled clump of weeds, dirty, but unharmed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is a much happier tale of loss than the past two have been. To be reunited with my original device was great and I owe it all to Fitbit's great customer service.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">For any of the rest of you who are already Fitbit owners, The number I called for help was 877-623-4997. I found the number online from someone else who had had a good experience calling it. Just hit 0 when it starts giving you the selection prompts.The app that I was sent is called <b><i>LightBlue</i></b> and I'm sure this won't be the last time I use it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Good customer service is getting hard to come by these days so when I find it, I feel the least I can do is sing the praises.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now that I've done so, it's back on to the important task of hindquarter kicking. My sister and niece are counting on me! On top of that I have a cupcake lodged firmly somewhere between my hips and thighs to chase off.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Come join us! We're having a good time with this fitness thing! (Yardwaste digging excluded.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Until next time - keep on stepping!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-91503093602336745022015-04-14T20:11:00.000-07:002015-04-14T20:11:13.946-07:00Off Like A Herd Of Turtles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAu3zQMfK_UveaFGaYdQp4L9UJLtLE8iKs6lafGOXUJ2AQlpwq2xwQXHV18oMiWCukyfxsXnNoTmgMc3ILHYLVt5mLFG3wkroL4EAtj4c9EYt0DAPYDpmhf57V_MxYTtrjKStN_SJbGM/s1600/turtlesphoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAu3zQMfK_UveaFGaYdQp4L9UJLtLE8iKs6lafGOXUJ2AQlpwq2xwQXHV18oMiWCukyfxsXnNoTmgMc3ILHYLVt5mLFG3wkroL4EAtj4c9EYt0DAPYDpmhf57V_MxYTtrjKStN_SJbGM/s1600/turtlesphoto.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Going slow does not prevent arriving. <br /> Nigerian Proverb </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It's been a month and four days since I started minding my own fitbitness and you'll never believe this but I'm still not fit! I <b><i>can</i></b> however report that I'm <i>fitt<b>er</b></i> than I was a month ago. How do I know this you might ask so I'll share the answer.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BL4TSA7hRjSzAEv-0cn4YFhBT7KD9n7y46V5h12ya5_7NSx9zkDICBvI8Muv5w-d_Qq49Op1vO8WT23MwLMXUAp1iyrvP5rOehd86lO5mfCYjX5mp8aVZujjFUbdh-DPTey5jWFEmUk/s1600/IMG_1082_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BL4TSA7hRjSzAEv-0cn4YFhBT7KD9n7y46V5h12ya5_7NSx9zkDICBvI8Muv5w-d_Qq49Op1vO8WT23MwLMXUAp1iyrvP5rOehd86lO5mfCYjX5mp8aVZujjFUbdh-DPTey5jWFEmUk/s1600/IMG_1082_2.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Tonight we took our dog (Tempe) for a walk. The same walk that nearly had me coughing up a lung and dying only a month ago and I wasn't even winded. In fact, we added quite a distance to the usual walk and still no terrible exertion. That, my friends, felt pretty great. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The free weights are starting to pay dividends as well. Chores that exhausted me a month ago hardly phase me now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Building muscle is a two edged sword. As I was pointing out to some friends recently, when we first start adding muscle, it only serves to push the fat out further and can make us appear larger instead of smaller until we hit the tipping point where the muscle is actually helping burn fat. At that point the sculpted beauties start to emerge from underneath it all and make us proud we did the work. Outlasting the frustration is the key to success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I've even had some "step" setbacks recently. The cold I was sure I'd kicked to the curb recycled itself into a sinus infection which left me sluggish (worst re-purposing ever!) and I fell short of my 10,000 steps for two days. (I still managed to hit the 8000 range.) Add to that losing a dear loved one and I reverted back to my "food as Valium" mode for the same two days. I missed the Fitbit <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/why-you-little.html" target="_blank">"party on my wrist"</a> that reaching goal brings, but not enough to keep me from moving on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In the past, any backsliding would have resulted in a self-beating with the loser stick and giving up on my goals. The new <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/when-i-love-myself-i-change.html" target="_blank">loving myself as I change</a> attitude short circuited that pretty quickly. Yes, I had 2 bad days. That's in the middle of a pretty long streak of good ones. Two bad days can't take away from me all the progress I've made. It can't deny me the stamina I've built or the momentum that has taken on a life of its own.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The battle of the bulge will not be won in a day - a week - or alas even a month, but that doesn't mean that it will not be won!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Join me? We can do this! </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-38128797413327349052015-04-10T20:49:00.002-07:002015-04-10T20:52:07.978-07:00Self Righteousness Fitness Buff<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwTMhLu7kJoaNa2bHuNXrWXeeJeR8NG8175IQ_QZx6jkN1NGhptZY6u9N1DS8nFr9BzX9fC5FraWXAb85cTHHFO-sBhZwkwusA1HTQVeOxV_44PI0u_0Haua1Pb2kB-ZPmsB6PZ19TK2k/s1600/18616443_s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwTMhLu7kJoaNa2bHuNXrWXeeJeR8NG8175IQ_QZx6jkN1NGhptZY6u9N1DS8nFr9BzX9fC5FraWXAb85cTHHFO-sBhZwkwusA1HTQVeOxV_44PI0u_0Haua1Pb2kB-ZPmsB6PZ19TK2k/s1600/18616443_s.jpg" height="400" width="331" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Self-righteousness is easy - also cheap. -
Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Is there anything in the world more annoying than self-righteousness? Probably a few things - but admittedly, it's right up there. As the quote above states - It's easy and it's cheap. Easy is - well, easy, and cheap fits my budget perfectly so I'm letting it fly!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Each time I have a new found passion, I feel it puts me squarely in the position to convert those who are arriving at it even <i>later</i> than myself. For instance, when I gave up smoking three packs of cigarettes a day I was completely insufferable in my evangelizing the benefits of shirking the "stinking" habit and vehement in my need for the rest of the world to shirk it as well. Who doesn't love being around a newly reformed know-it-all? (Me! I <i>hate</i> it - unless it's me - then I'm much more tolerant.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Well, this time it's all about the virtues of being active and the vice of inactivity. (Pretend that just a few days shy of a month ago I wasn't a sloth. This will work <i><b>so</b></i> much better that way!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now that I'm able to hit my Fitbit goal of 10,000 steps a day with increasing regularity I'm the self appointed poster child of <i><b>"Get Off Your Seat And On Your Feet." </b> </i>Yes, it's a thankless job (<i>really</i> thankless) but someone has to do it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Besides taunting my niece who will soon make me regret it, I've even taken to taunting fellow Fitbit users on Twitter:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Tweetee:</b> Consulting the Magic 8 Ball to see if my Fitbit step goal is gonna get met today.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">"shake shake" 8 Ball says "signs point to NO."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Me:</b> Keep shaking and they might.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Tweetee:</b> hahahah Nice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Me:</b> Got mine in. Na na na na naaa na.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Tweetee:</b> Go ahead. Make fun of me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Me:</b> Lets call it a challenge. I'm almost at 4000 steps today already (at 11:A.M.) That's more steps in all of 2014! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The truth is, while I'm still a long way from reaching my fitness goals, I'm also a lot further down that road than I was a month ago. I won't bore you with how many steps down that road, (<span class="userInfo">102,892 steps) but I will share what's happened so far.</span></span><br />
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>My clothes are fitting better.</b> I'm not out shopping for a smaller size yet, but I'm no longer greasing myself to fit into my jeans either. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I'm sleeping like a champ.</b> This alone is worth it! (I won't pretend I'm going to bed at a decent hour and getting as <i><b>much</b></i> sleep as I should (baby steps) but at least the sleep I do get is deep and restful.</span><br />
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>My eating has improved immensely.</b> Is it perfect? Heck no, but at 10,000 steps a day I no longer beat myself mercilessly for each transgression (especially since they've become more the exception than the rule).</span><br />
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>My self respect has increased. </b>There is nothing as demoralizing as feeling constantly dissatisfied with something you <b><i>can</i></b> change. The voices in my head <i>live</i> for opportunities to beat me with the "loser" stick and, sadly for them, they have less material to work with at the moment.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I'm hopeful. </b>I have to say that hopeful is something I haven't been for quite awhile. When I don't feel good, have no energy, and consider the prospects that I may live another 30 years feeling like that - or worse, what's to be hopeful about? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I have more energy. </b>Things that only a month ago completely exhausted me are now easy to do. Admittedly, working out with free weights has added to that but just having more stamina makes things I use to dread no big deal. </span><br />
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;">And last but not least:</span><br />
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;">I get to be a self-righteous evangelist to anyone and everyone who will listen (or pretend to be listening).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span class="userInfo" style="font-size: x-large;">So...how about you? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b> </b></i></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-90526993902599835932015-04-05T08:06:00.000-07:002015-04-05T08:06:30.167-07:00Game On!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h1 class="quoteText">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Sisters is probably the most competitive
relationship within the family, but once the sisters are grown, it
becomes the strongest relationship. - Margaret Mead </span></i></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I was just minding my own fitbitness, stepping right along, doing fine and feeling good about this whole new <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/when-i-love-myself-i-change.html" target="_blank">"loving myself" adventure</a> - so good in fact that I decided, "<i>You know what would make this even better? To share it with someone I love." </i>Enter the insanity!</span> </span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It all stated with a simple text to my sister. I told her my husband had bought me a <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-knows-when-you-are-sleeping.html" target="_blank">Fitbit</a> and it was going to make it a lot harder to sit on my lard with a constant reminder of my lard sitting.</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">She let me know she had a Shine that she was happy with. For a few days after, she'd check in on my step totals etc. Then one day, I received a text telling me that she'd ordered the Fitbit HR for herself and my niece so we could all connect our progress. (She'd already one upped me! I have the Flex.) This'll
be fun I thought! </span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">That was until her Fitbit arrived. Since that day, I'm still loving
myself, but my feet hate me! Not that we're competitive or anything, but
I'm afraid to go to sleep for fear that she'll get on
the treadmill in the middle of the night just so I wake up 3000 steps
behind!</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Here's a peek into the craziness:</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Text From Sister:</b> "Last night I was in bed and one of the other girls in the competition got a badge for 25 flights of stairs and I was at 22 so I got up and did more stairs. I'm SICK thanks to you!"</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Me:</b> Crazy is genetic. Don't blame me.</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Text From Sister:</b> (After hitting my 10,000 step goal) Yay! You did it. Go out and celebrate with something yummy!"</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Me:</b> You'd like that wouldn't you? Carrots for me! (As I'm eating popcorn.)</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Add to this that Fitbit keeps sending little digs all day: You're up by X amount of steps. Your sister has taken the lead and is ahead by X amount of steps and this stopped being about <i><b>fitness</b></i> a <b><i>LONG</i></b> time ago! </span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">This is about that time she said I couldn't wear her skirt to school so I sneaked it into my purse and changed into it once I got there. This is about the time my parents let me date the same year that she was allowed to date even though she's a year (OK 11 months) older.This is about <i>all the times </i>we fought over boys, clothes, make up, and the bathroom. This is about who <i><b>wins</b></i> once and for all - even if it kills us both - and it just well may.</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Add in the fact that I might not have thought it through completely before taunting my niece. (She still has her youth.) Though I had 2 weeks to build up to my 10,000 steps before she started and I'm ahead for now, once she hits her stride I'll be eating crow three meals a day!</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">In all seriousness, this little competition has been a great thing for all of us. We've been so focused on keeping up in the race that our fat cells haven't had a chance to figure out what we're pulling on them yet! </span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I'm so excited for the 3 of us to get into shape and feel great about ourselves, that I almost forgot about the reunion coming up in August! YIKES!</span></span></h1>
<h1 class="quoteText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Yes, sisters - once they grow up are the strongest relationships. I can call my sister anything I want (and I do each time Fitbit tells me she's ahead again!) but you'd try it at your own peril! Love you sis!</span></span></h1>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-62457238488363519722015-03-29T20:59:00.000-07:002015-03-30T06:37:21.009-07:00Last On First Off Frustration<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Before I start right in on the frustration, I'll share some great news! A penguin has nothing on me! I just earned my PENGUIN MARCH BADGE for walking 70 miles since starting my Fitbit trek on March 12th! Just another love note from my new B.F.F. At first I wondered if it was <i>really</i> a celebration of the distance or if the fitbit had been sending covert aerial views of my walking style and I was being taunted for <i>waddling</i> 10,000 steps daily - turns out my fears were for naught. It was a pat on the flipper for a job well done!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">10,000 step days is the new normal for me with under being the exception. Yesterday, I was once again <i>denied the happy</i> dance <i><b>by a mere 20 steps</b>.</i> I was visiting another time zone and the day changed an hour earlier than my home time. It was disappointing but <i><b>sanely</b></i> disappointing this time. (I knew I went well over 10,000 steps and <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/why-you-little.html" target="_blank">this time I didn't whine about not getting my light show.</a> (We penguins have evolved past such superficiality!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">SO - about this last on first off situation - it is an unfortunate truth that weight comes off first from the places we last gained it. Therefore, even though I'm starting to see the results of my efforts, instead of the much anticipated relief for my jeans, I'm sporting some super trim earlobes and my fingers, toes, wrists and ankles are showing signs of progress. And <i>this</i> is why I usually get frustrated and give up. I mean come on, do earrings or socks really appreciate the difference? No! And when the places you most want to see improvements lag behind the ones that matter least, it does get discouraging - thus the give it up and soothe myself in the silky arms of chocolate. <b>THIS TIME WILL BE DIFFERENT!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can't explain how I know this - but I do. It's time. I'm ready, and doggone this accountability and encouragement of my effort is making a huge difference in my attitude. I know that no matter what the scale or jeans indicate from one day to the next, each step is making a difference that will contribute to the final outcome. It's happening. Every day takes me closer than I was the day before to my final destination - as long as I take the steps (literally and figuratively) that lead in the direction I want to go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Progress not perfection people! <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/you-win-some-you-lose-some.html" target="_blank">One axe strike at at time</a> will fall the tallest tree eventually. One foot in front of the other will see me growing fitter day by day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/when-i-love-myself-i-change.html" target="_blank"><br /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/when-i-love-myself-i-change.html" target="_blank">When I love myself, I change.</a> I'm changing. It works! Try it. You'll love it!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-49231628093917531332015-03-24T20:09:00.001-07:002015-03-24T20:18:46.832-07:00Mirror Mirror On The Wall...<br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">...What the heck happened?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Yes, I actually had that sign above my bathroom mirror for a few months. Then one day, I decided it was NOT helpful and chucked it into the closet with the skinny jeans that were also not helpful! However -</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Inertia has shifted! Instead of an object at rest that stays at rest, I've become an object in motion that's staying in motion. Who knew all I needed to drastically alter my behavior was constant accountability? ME! <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-knows-when-you-are-sleeping.html" target="_blank">That's why I avoided it at all costs.</a> Here's the part I HATE to admit: IT'S WORKING! I'm down 2.5 pounds so far (in under 2 weeks) and except for needing WD-40 injections (picture tin man here) into my complaining joints, it's becoming easier each day to clock more activity. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Still not tracking my sleep. A friend told me that when she started tracking her sleep and found out how lousy her sleep quality was that she felt more tired instantly. Knowing myself as I do, I dare not give my mind that kind of food for fodder. It'll have me walking into walls!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Lot's of strange things are afoot since falling in love with my fitbit. In the past week my television watching has dropped to dangerously low levels, I've clocked 25,000 steps in the last 2 days, (more steps than I'd guess I clocked in all of 2014,) my water consumption is at peak volume, (even though I forget to record it) and I'm eating "real" food instead of the imitation stuff that's marketed as the genuine article.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I haven't <i>tried</i> to give up TV. I've just been busy moving and doing moving things. Just plopping down to sit mindlessly isn't as appealing as it was when I was a stalactite. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A few of the other reunion goers have hopped on board and we're keeping each other honest. (As in, I "honestly" think it would be easier to make a "let"s all stay fat pact" than a "let"s all get fit pact" - and why didn't I think of that sooner?)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I finally had to admit to myself today that this is about so much more than getting gorgeous for this reunion. (I could clock a million miles a day, be completely fit and STILL not look like I did in my teens. How horrible is THAT?) This is actually more about being around and able to attend the next reunion 10 years from now and still feel well enough to enjoy it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So, all in all, coming up to the end of the first two weeks of this <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/when-i-love-myself-i-change.html" target="_blank">"loving myself"</a> experiment, I have to say if feels pretty doggone good! Anyone else want to jump in the water with us? I promise not to post swimsuit pics online!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-76826784960544759182015-03-21T19:42:00.001-07:002015-03-21T19:58:25.241-07:00You Win Some, You Lose Some...<span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><img alt="Science Finds Nothing Manlier Than Chopping Wood" class="article-featured-img wp-post-image" src="http://q108.com/wp-content/blogs.dir/32/files/2013/08/chopping-wood-620x400.jpg" title="Science Finds Nothing Manlier Than Chopping Wood" /><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">...And some you sit out!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>It's been <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-knows-when-you-are-sleeping.html" target="_blank">10 days of behaving</a> myself and I'm still not sleek! What gives with that?</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">That may sound silly, but that really is my usual approach to weight loss and fitness. Patience is not on my short list of virtues when giving up brownies is involved. I diet for a day, check the results, find none to speak of and say "Well that was useless!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">This time I'm trying to take a different approach. I'm remembering the "tree chopping" analogy. When chopping down a tree, in the beginning each blow with the axe seems futile and little progress is visible. It would be easy to believe it's useless and give up. If that were true nary a tree would ever have fallen! (Leave chain saws out of this! It's my story and I'm telling it my way!)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Anyway, it's easy to think the last blow with the axe before the tree falls was THE ONE that made the difference. Truth is, it started with the first and every blow after it was just as important as the last one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SO, I'd been plugging along - reaching my 10,000 steps each day, enjoying the party on my wrist and feeling pretty darned good about myself then BAM! - I ran smack into a brick wall yesterday. (Lets pretend the brick wall wasn't sleep deprivation because I'd stayed up till 2:30 in the morning. That way we can also pretend I was blameless.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I dragged myself through the day and by evening I'd only racked up a small percentage of my goal steps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Enter evil idea. At a farewell get together for some moving friends, I noticed the enviable energy of a certain 4 year old girl. Suddenly it struck me that if I had her wear a certain cute little "ankle bracelet" while she was running around, and asked her to return it to me when it lit up, my dashboard would be none the wiser! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My legs and feet loved the idea. My hips and thighs jiggled with joy. My heart, however, was having none of it . Bewildered, I headed home to do what I could on my own (cursing my party pooping heart the whole way.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I danced, walked laps around my house, ran in place, and finally managed to get over 8000 steps before collapsing in a heap. Sad news - I didn't get the light show. (And we all know how much <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/why-you-little.html" target="_blank">THAT</a> means to me!) The happy news is that my new "fail" is 8000 steps instead of the maybe 16 steps a day I took before the fitbit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>MORAL OF THE STORY: SLEEP </b>Even the woodcutter has to stop to sharpen his axe.<b> </b>Also, keep things in perspective. I'll take a 8000 step fail once in awhile. It wasn't my biggest axe swing, but it still counts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>MORAL OF THE STORY PART 2:</b> Buy a chainsaw already!</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-40896220114200119112015-03-19T14:06:00.000-07:002015-03-19T14:11:10.859-07:00I Didn't Want To Love You!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Oh Fitbit! Why did you make me love you? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If you've been following along, you know that I've embarked on</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> a new relationship. A love/hate relationship as many relationships are wont to be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This affair however is with a device! You can see <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/it-knows-when-you-are-sleeping.html" target="_blank">how reluctant I've been.</a> How my <a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/when-i-love-myself-i-change.html" target="_blank">trust issues</a> and past experience have colored my ability to really invest my heart quickly and easily and how easy it is to<a href="http://mindingmyownfitbitness.blogspot.com/2015/03/why-you-little.html" target="_blank"> squash that trust </a>by following these links.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I'm afraid, despite my best efforts, I've fallen - fallen head over heels (especially heels). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dear Fitbit,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I fought a good fight. I pushed you away. I really really didn't want to like you - and never wanted to LOVE you but you've chiseled away at my resolve and finally, you've prevailed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe asking for my weight and being pushy up front really <i>was</i> because you cared and not because you were assessing my worthiness. Perhaps setting ridiculous standards (10,000 steps for a couch potato? Come ON!) was actually for my <i>benefit</i> and not because you were setting me up to fail.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Could it be that you knew how important it was for me to change? What was your first clue? Was it the fact that I considered typing an aerobic activity or that I'd come to believe that chocolate was honesty the best and only true source of Omega 3's? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Never mind all that. Let me tell <i>you </i>how you won my heart. You were there. Boy were you there! Every second of every day - except at bedtime because I'm still not convinced you won't post drooling pics online whilst I sleep. You paid attention. You tracked my steps one by one (except that time you cheated me mercilessly at the grocery store just for pushing a cart! No bitterness here.) You encouraged me. You sent me love letters as goals were met supporting my progress. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Most of all you recognized me. Not in that "drag me up in front of a crowd and embarrass me" kind of way that you know makes me uncomfortable, but by throwing a private little celebration just between the two of us on my wrist - complete with rhythm and a light show! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It's become impossible to resist your charm. You'll find I'm a loyal companion. I probably won't even be able to upgrade to a better model of you without wearing both of you because it would seem like cheating after all you've done for me already.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'd love to go on and on but I'm only at 6000 miles for the day and I don't want to risk missing our 10,000 step celebration later this evening so I'll close for now but thank you for helping me move - even if it's still a bit out of guilt and perfectionism. I'm sure my heart and waistline aren't concerned so much with why as long as I just do it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">XOXO</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Me</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-6563279928921229642015-03-18T06:51:00.001-07:002015-03-18T06:53:16.650-07:00Why You Little...<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>MY FITBIT ROBBED ME!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Where I live we have grocery stores called Meijers that are the size of a small town. When the first one opened near where I lived years ago I called it Meijers, IL. I used to joke that to shop there required a compass, hiking gear and a packed lunch. Meijers took care of the packed lunch issue by opening a SubWay inside the store to keep shoppers from fainting from want of food.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">SO! Yesterday, Fitbit strapped on, I planned to really crank some serious step totals and get bonus points for doing the loathsome job of hunting food to bring back to the cave. I walked from one end to the other basking in the glorious boost I was racking up in steps - but<i><b> nooooo</b></i>! Fitbit decided that since my arms weren't moving (pushing a cart) none of those steps counted! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband tried his best to console me with "Well, <b><i>you</i></b> know you've added <i><b>at least</b></i> xxx steps so it doesn't really matter what the registered count is." </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">IT MATTERS!</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It matters because now I have to do all those steps over again because if I don't, the little gizmo won't do it's celebratory light show and vibratory dance! It matters because somewhere deep in my psyche I need that validation. (Something horrible must have happened to me during the birthing process or potty training!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It matters because I'M NUTS! The perfectionist in me just can't let it go. All of my newly proclaimed self compassion and understanding got thrown completely under a bus and run over by a perfectionism. Mind you - this all happened the very day I wrote a note to a friend telling her to stop being so hard on herself that she was already perfect and getting better. AGH! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>AND I DID IT! </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Yes, it's sick, but redid those steps. I had my happy dance light show and yes I did get my much needed satisfaction from it. The deeper question for me is <b><i>WHY</i></b> on earth do I need that?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Anyone know a good shrink? </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-42414694519205074002015-03-16T07:27:00.002-07:002015-03-17T13:04:28.472-07:00When I Love Myself I Change<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT A DAILY WORKOUT JOURNAL! GOOD NEWS HUH?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My friend Jim has lost a multitude of pounds and made a
lot of positive changes in his life this past year. I was so impressed that on our last
visit I wanted to hear ALL about it. It turns out it was simple. Jim
started loving himself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Simply by having compassion and loving himself after
trial, fail and retrial, Jim was able to change his whole life! WHAT A
CONCEPT! Imagine what could happen if we gave ourselves the same
courtesy that we extend to others. (At least to their faces!) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">After much deliberations, I've decided that (reunion or not,) I want what Jim's found! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I want to learn to love myself. That is not something I've ever done before. I've spent a lifetime loving other people and hope to spend the rest of my life in the same way, but it's about time I add myself to the list .</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">To that end, I strapped on the fitbit gadget. (More about my adventures with that <a href="http://buff.ly/1Dqj5RG" target="_blank">here</a>!) I thought I'd just go about my normal activities and establish a baseline from which to move ahead. Reasonable - right? (NO! I was NOT procrastinating getting started! Why would you even think that?)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Immediately I ran into problems. I found the accountability too much and actually found myself doing MORE than usual to earn my first "badge." The normal goal is 10,000 steps a day but like a Pavlovian pooch I decided I had to at least get to 5000 in order to earn the initial "gimme" credit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What does it say about me that I need to impress a rubber wristband with a chip inside it that's probably spying on me? I'll leave that to greater minds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I did meet the 5000 step requirement, but not because I'd usually walk 5000 steps in a day. It was the pressure! That constant nagging of wanting that darned reward just wouldn't leave me alone! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Did I take the gadget to bed with me to monitor my sleep? NOPE. We'll see if that ever happens. If my mirror ever gives me reason to doubt how well I did or didn't sleep, I may reconsider. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm actually on day 4 today. I've beaten the 5000 each day and even passed 10,000 once and here's what I've found:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This LOVING MYSELF STUFF FEELS GOOD! Not getting fit to impress the reunion crowd turned out to be a great relief. Getting fit because I love myself to some degree now and want to expand that love is a much better place to come from. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">AND: It's amazing how many steps a person can take in a day by just going about their daily activities and not being a slacker. (Slacker = "Honey, as long as you're headed out to the garage, will you take these recyclables with you?") </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm also finding that I'm sleeping better (according to the mirror at least.) I generally feel better about the fact that I'm doing something for myself. Looks like other people are having the same results! I came across an article today titled: <a href="http://www.secondiron.com/10000-steps-has-changed-my-life/" target="_blank">10,000 Steps A Day Changed My Life.</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">No matter what the reason, getting fit just makes sense. It opens up everything to more enjoyment because of the expanded energy available.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Come On! Join me. It's always more fun doing it with someone who actually breathes! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258876584106287768.post-86351283314978191402015-03-15T20:03:00.001-07:002015-03-17T13:00:54.347-07:00It Knows When You Are Sleeping...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="position_content" data-height="519" data-muse-src="/images/illumivation%20studios-%20smashed%20cars%20marketing%20prop.jpg" data-muse-uid="U5905" src="http://www.illumivationshop.com/images/illumivation%20studios-%20smashed%20cars%20marketing%20prop.jpg" data-src="/images/illumivation%20studios-%20smashed%20cars%20marketing%20prop.jpg" data-width="535" height="519" id="u5905_img" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="535" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">TAKING SOME <b><i>BIG</i></b> STEPS!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>After everything I've been through, the <b>last </b>thing I'm going to apologize for is my paranoia. - Richard Finney</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My ??th reunion is coming up in August. (No way I'm dishing on that number! I might as well just tell you how much I weigh!) Time is getting short and I have to at least <i>resemble</i> my Facebook photos by then. AGH!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I recently read an article that rates activity level based on the number of steps taken each day. Since I registered somewhere between a sloth and a stalactite I knew if I was to get in shape it meant more activity. Since they don't count key strokes or aerobic snacking it looked like changes were inevitable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">To that end I decided I needed the one thing I hate more than anything else in the world - accountability! Enter the fitbit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">As you may or may not be aware, there are a lot of varieties of these gadgets and they increase in features as the price goes up. After checking them out and discovering that even the high end one still does not do windows or laundry I opted for the basic model (the flex). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I brought it home one day but waited till the end of the next to set it up. (I told you I hate accountability so I procrastinated.) Besides, it asks such intimate questions as your weight! I felt that was pretty forward for a device I'd just met.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">During our "get to know each other" phase it came to my attention that this little critter can monitor my sleep patterns and report each morning how much rest I'm actually getting for my hours in the sack. Funny - I thought my mirror was doing a fine job of letting me know but this <i>is</i> the electronic age.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now MOST people might think - that's AWESOME! Just a little more bang for their buck. I am <i>not </i>most people so of course I instantly became suspicious. I think it's creepy enough that an overweight guy in a red suit knows when I am sleeping and when I'm awake and that the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy both have open access to my private sleeping space and also seem to have the goods on my sleep patterns - now this??</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">At least the other three don't also connect to the internet! After watching the first few episodes of <i>CSI Cyber </i>and finding out that even my toaster could be spilling its guts </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">to some backroom hacker </span>about how I like my bagels, how can I trust this new device not to green light burglars when it's lights out at my house? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">On top of that I'm sure one day insurance companies will gain the rights to have the entire population tagged with these things so they can monitor our activity levels and use them to deny claims or coverage. Are they listening to me even as I type? Did I just give them an idea they might not have thought of yet?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Yes, I have my "concerns" about inviting yet another potential spy device into my life. It gives me the heebie jeebies, but heebie jeebies can't hold a candle to reunion anxiety so I decided to throw caution to the wind and fire this puppy up! Stay tuned for the continuing adventures! </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04192803311744925121noreply@blogger.com0