Oh, how my life has changed since starting work. Not for the better, with the exception of earning money. Unemployment was running out, but my lifestyle wrt free unstructured time took a major hit. By the time I get home from work, gym, socializing, other obligations, eating dinner, cleaning kitchen, (not always in that order) it’s past 10 pm, I need to relax a bit so I can go to bed, so I can get up at 5 and do it again.
And because I don’t drive most days, I can’t easily get to the gym. I know the conventional wisdom keeps trying to say that exercise isn’t as important as food, but I can eat a whole lot more if I have enough time to exercise as much as I would like. But I cannot. I have New Guy who likes to spend time with me. I have other friends who I like to spend time with, other activities I enjoy. I had a week or two adjusting to the new food all over the place. I ate two bags of goldfish crackers (170 cal each). I ate a small bag of cookies, probably similar. A small bag of cheetos, a few granola bars, a bunch of string cheese. A few English muffins with turkey, ham, cheese. My pants got tight, and now I don’t eat any of that anymore. I’m not going to any extremes, just bringing lunch from now on. There’s a Malaysian buffet nearby, not too much deep fried stuff, but I eat too much. When I wasn’t working, I got there once a month, now that I work there, it is once a week. Sometimes more. I went today. But if I eat lunch at noon, eat dinner 8:30 (my dinner tonight is salad – I am still full) I went to the gym for two hours. I think I’m going to go there every other week, probably once a month would be better, but that feels restrictive, which I need to be careful with. I have to walk a fine line, I read other weight loss/maintenance blogs and know many people don’t eat much, but my metabolism is somewhat jacked. I don’t do gym as much as I would like, but I ride 4 miles each way on bike as part of commute, walk a bunch, do what I can. This not getting fat again is bloody inconvenient, I love the exercise, but the food planning is effort. I can’t even imagine what a pain it would be if I counted calories, weighed stuff, or made any concession other than cooking it myself.
Sometimes I get caught in weird traps, for example, this is the first salad I’ve made at home for over a month. I brought my salad dressing over to NG’s house when I made him dinner, left it there. It takes just a few minutes to make dressing, why did I not do it for a month? I don’t always make it easy for myself, and I’m trying to stop doing that. What’s even weirder, I’m so mean to myself. I keep telling myself that I’m such a fraud, to be dating decent looking guys who are actually nice to me. I can make myself feel really bad and self-conscious if I don’t stop. I subvert that mode of thinking when I notice it. I tell him that I was fat, that my mother fucked me up, that I run depressed, exercise a lot, try hard not to be crazy about food, don’t like to clean. But I like to cook, and I like sex, and am kinda smart, and for some guys, they’ll deal with my mess (head and apartment) for that.
Oh, and New Guy tells me he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. What the hell does that even mean? I understand the words, something is lost in interpretation. Who doesn’t love sugar? He does like it, but he doesn’t indulge. I find this outrageous. He explains that he would also love to smoke ciggies (me too!), drink way too much all the time (not my thing), and eat sweets, but he doesn’t. Obviously, I somewhat understand restraint, having given up ciggies and 50 pounds, but no sweet tooth? I am tripping on this, but I think of him when I pass by cookies and don’t eat them. I can’t resist sugar only when drinking, which I don’t love and so should do less.
I have discovered the functionality in functional fitness. I tried to climb the side of a waterfall, didn’t make it, but I needed every muscle I’ve gained in the gym. I was actually sore from using my arms to pull me up, bringing my knees up to my chest to climb these boulders. I couldn’t have done this when large, couldn’t do it without my gym habit. So here’s a very dorky picture of me, on the rocks. It’s hard to tell how steep it is, but you can sorta gauge by the waterfall off to the side. I’m just happy to be somewhere that I can wear shorts. This is the coldest summer of my life.