Service hours

Last weekend I was at the Ronald.

Should I even talk about it? Sigh.

Apparently students at some of the local private schools had to turn in their service hours Monday. And what's an easier last-minute service project than making baked goods for the families of the Ronald McDonald House? (Did I mention the sigh?)

I was already feeling a little down last weekend. Though I tried as hard as I could to avoid the cupcakes, brownies, cookies and muffins, I...well, just didn't.

Here's a picture of the counter on Saturday afternoon (we got even more donations Sunday).

I mean, seriously?

If the kids called to ask if they could drop stuff off, I told them no. But there wasn't much I could do about the ones who just showed up.

I'm not proud of how I acted. BUT. I did get up Monday morning and do my first day of my third week of Couch to 5K. This week, I have to run for three minutes at a time. I never thought I'd make it. But I made sure to ignore the countdown clock and just run until I was beeped at to stop. And I made it! I'm not sure I've ever been so proud as when I finished my initial three minutes.

So, as usual, I'm up and down. Weight-wise, emotion-wise and food-wise. But I'm still hanging in there. And sometimes that's all I can do.

The distraction of running

So, as I told you last week, my Weight Watchers weigh-in was less than ideal. Three weeks of overeating took its toll and I was up 6.8 pounds.

Last week I tried to take on a new outlook. I've been running (more on that in a second) and trying to stay within my allotted WW points every day.

Today I weighed in with a little success. I was down 3.6 pounds from last week. I'm feeling better.

Now. About that running thing. As I mentioned, I've been working the Couch to 5K program, which gradually trains you to run a 5K. I'm now almost finished with my second week, which consists of a 5-minute warm-up walk, followed by cycles of 90 seconds of running, then 2 minutes of walking.

For someone who is not a runner, 90 seconds of running is hard. Hard. But the great thing I discovered is that my time on the treadmill or outside is the only time I'm able to get out of my own head and forget the things that have been dragging me down.

Because the whole time, all I can think of is how much I hate running. There are no thoughts of broken hearts, work stress, to-do lists or other worries. I'm just driven by hate. That's kind of working for me.

But something else follows that hate--an unbridled sense of accomplishment. As soon as that little app beeps at me and tells me I'm done running, I'm proud--fiercely proud. I just ran a full minute and a half! I RAN!

As it continues to get harder (I think next week I have to run for three minutes straight), I'm determined to just try my best.

It's all I can do, right?

For now, here's a super attractive picture of me post-Silver Comet trail. Proof that I'm trying. Yay for German-Irish pink skin!

Damage control

The damage has been done.

Today, I tucked my tail between my legs and headed back to Weight Watchers. It's been three weeks since I showed my face in a meeting. Three weeks of terrible eating. Three weeks of old Erika rearing her ugly, sad head.

I knew it would be bad. I was right. I gained 6.8 pounds.

There it is. The number in black and white, now written for all eternity in my Weight Watchers weight log.

But things are looking up--at least a little. I'm trying to climb my way out of the dark. Saturday I went to the Silver Comet Trail and started (in earnest this time) the Couch to 5K program. I did my second day yesterday and faced one of my biggest fears--running on the treadmill (I can walk on a treadmill all day long, but with running, I have a fear of  tripping and flying off the back--I managed to stay upright, at least).

For the past two days, I've tracked my food diligently. So, I'm trying.

I was saying today in my Weight Watchers meeting--and I may have blogged about this before--that there was a time in my life where food served its purpose. Maybe my compulsive overeating protected me in some ways when my mom died. Maybe it stopped me from doing other things to harm myself. I don't know.

What I do know is that overeating no longer makes me feel better. It no longer comforts me. It makes me feel worse--physically and emotionally. And right now, I just don't need anything to make me feel worse.

I'm trying to remember that when I want to swing by Zaxby's, or pick up a Big Mac. Those things will not help me feel less sad.

And this too shall pass.

Great gratitude

Thank you.

I've been overwhelmed this week by your emails and your comments. Your encouraging words have been such a comfort to me.

I remember when I wrote my first blog entry nearly two and a half years ago. It was such a scary thing--to share my story and my deepest fears and shame with strangers. But your support has kept me going, even when I wanted to quit.

I've wanted to quit a lot the past couple of weeks. Without going into the details of how I'm dealing with things, I've had good days and bad ones, but food-wise? Mostly bad. Still, I think because I'm aware of what I'm doing, and, more importantly, WHY I'm doing it, I'll be more determined than ever to get back on track.

I've been looking over my weight loss for the past year and have noticed how much I've slacked--my weight hasn't changed that much since last summer. I wanted 2012 to be the year I finally reach my ultimate goals. I still think that's possible. I have to believe that. And I can't let anyone get in the way of what I want.

I need to challenge myself. I need to focus. And more that anything, I need to believe in myself. I think I lost that somewhere along the way. Right now, I need to remember that I'm really worth this.

In the meantime, though, I have a lot of emails to answer. If you're new to "Erika is Losing it," welcome! I encourage you to read some of my older entries. I always appreciate your comments and your emails.

I'm not really sure what I'd do without you guys--despite having never met most of you. Thanks for inspiring me.

A little broken

I got a text from a friend last night.

"You haven't blogged since the 12th--what's up?"

There are a few answers to that question. But the most appropriate is the title of this entry. I'm just a little broken.

So, true honesty here. Last time I talked about being back on track. How I had attacked my Ronald weekend with gusto, despite my sad heart.

I avoided the cake. I ate so well. I was not going to let anything derail me. And then for a while, I didn't feel like eating at all.

Fast forward to this past weekend. All I wanted to do was stay in bed. And eat.

It wasn't pretty. It involved tears. Chips. Sour cream. Even Twinkies.

I'm not proud. But food is still where I turn when I am lost in my own emotions. I'm trying very hard to pull myself out of my darkness. This morning I dutifully made my spinach smoothie (this week involved one Chick-Fil-A breakfast morning and one McDonald's Egg McMuffin morning), which made me feel a little better.

This weekend I have plans with friends. More than that, I have plans to be good to myself. To grocery shop. Plan some meals. And stop beating myself up.

I hate that food is still such a part of how I deal with things--I started by restricting; I finished by bingeing. I hate that I've come so far, but am still so capable of sliding back.

But at least I came back. Thanks for the text, Dawn.

Back on track--for realz

Last week I told you I was working on a do-over. I tried to convince myself by convincing all of you that that was true.

It turns out it totally was.

This weekend I was at the Ronald. I've often said for a food addict, working at the Ronald McDonald House is like an alcoholic working at a bar. This weekend was no exception. In fact, it was more tempting than ever.

I came armed with my own food, as I always do. Sometimes during my weekends, I totally scrap my own food for whatever deliciousness our meal donors bring. I was concerned about that this weekend, because my food has not been the best since December or so.

And then my weekend turned emotional. I won't go into detail (there is a thing as over-sharing, I've learned), but let's just say you won't be reading any more posts about a boyfriend. All good things come to an end, it seems. Even when one least expects it.

I was pretty down Saturday. And right on cue, a woman came by from Piece of Cake bakery. Apparently they had many orders that were not picked up, so she graciously brought cakes to the Ronald for our families to enjoy. Cupcakes. More than 60 (!!!) huge individual slices of cake. Beautiful chocolate, red velvet and carrot cakes. Cake was everywhere.

Then Saturday night, our meal donors brought mashed potatoes (it's like the weekend was just designed to tempt my sad, binge-eater self, you know?). I ate with the families, but controlled my portions. I tracked my food all weekend and stayed on plan. Even avoided all that cake.

I stepped on the scale this morning and was pleasantly surprised by the results. I may be down, but I'm in control. That's good, because boy, do I need a dash of empowerment right now.

Test tubes and Bunsen burners

So. I've been experimenting. New foods. New ways to work out. Just trying to get back on track.

Saturday, I spent the day at the Silver Comet Trail. Despite the fact that I live less than five miles from the beginning of the trail, I had never been. I'm currently participating in a Children's steps challenge, so I thought I'd get in some extra during the weekend.

Though I underestimated how cold it was, I enjoyed myself. I walked about four miles total and felt good about it the rest of the day. I also was impressed by the number of people who passed me riding bikes. I haven't been on a bike that moves from the floor since I was about 17. I might try renting one to see if the old adage about "just like riding a bike" is true. Any advice from those of you into cycling?

Food-wise, I've also been trying new things. I've been reading a lot lately about Green Monsters--smoothies that incorporate spinach. People swear that you can't! taste! the! spinach! at! ALL! I was skeptical to say the least. I started out with a fairly easy recipe: one frozen banana, a cup of vanilla almond milk and a couple handfuls of spinach--into the blender.

Here's how it turned out:

Pretty, no?

Of course, the real test was the taste test. Guess what? You can't! taste! the! spinach! at! ALL! It's true. I kind of wanted mine to be a bit sweeter, though, so I might experiment with adding some additional fruit. I felt super healthy drinking it this morning and am going to keep it up the next few days. If anyone has any other good smoothie ideas, send them my way.

Later, I had a new snack. Grape tomatoes and cucumbers stirred into 1/4 cup of cottage cheese and sprinkled with seasoning salt, regular salt and pepper. Yum.

I promise it tasted better than it looked. Yay for new snacks!

So while I can't officially call these favorites--yet--I am glad to be branching out and trying new things. As always, I welcome your ideas to get me out of my comfort zone.