I am beyond amazed at how much better I feel just because I'm taking off some weight and exercising. I'm having a problem with my bad right foot (born with a club foot - have no arch in it now). It hurts and I just get so angry about it. I need to get out and walk. I'm aiming for a 5K walk at the end of July, and we can just hope that I make it. I don't want to win, but I would love to finish.
I had to go to the gym in the afternoon for two days this week, and although I hate fighting the kids for the machines, I really love the effect: I'm not hungry at night and I feel so UP after a day at work. I really hope I can keep this up.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Still going down
I am down 18 pounds and very happy about it, though it seems to be going terribly slowly, to my mind anyway.
I have my eye on a 5K at the end of July, if I can work my way up to it. My foot hurts some today, and I only did my weights and walked a mile at the gym. I'm going to have to step it up some if I intend to make the 5K. I don't want to win, but I would dearly love to finish.
This is something I wrote recently:
I never really considered myself a senior citizen, although I could probably get the discount at most businesses.
But the years are creeping up on me and the extra weight and lack of exercise were making me old long before my time.
Getting up and down the stairs to do laundry was a chore - I pushed the basket in front of me as I went up the steps, and dragged it behind me to get down.
I was falling down far more frequently than I ever did before, and getting groceries from the car to the kitchen was a job that left be breathless.
I couldn't walk across the street without getting winded, and and I never walked up the steps to an office
I have to visit regularly. I waited for the elevator.
I was exhausted all the time, and spent Saturday and Sunday taking long naps.
Looming in the background was a family history (both sides of the family) of diabetes and heart disease.
In short, I was getting old and feeble long before I was ready, and I could easily have auditioned to be the Razorback hog mascot - and won the part.
It was time. If I was ever going to do the things I intended to do, like hike in the mountains, learn to canoe and sail, take a walking tour of Europe and ride horses again, I was going to have to do something about my health.
I was also thinking that if I intended to keep up with a group of fourth graders in the fall, I was really going to have to get in shape.
I started by going online and joining Weight Watchers, and after a week of counting points, I stepped on my bathroom scale.
The whole process nearly ground to a halt right there - I could easily have had a heart attack on the spot.
But I decided that rather than be a candidate for an early grave, I was going to dig in and really do something about my health.
After about three weeks and minus six pounds, I bit the bullet and walked into the local fitness center, because I knew that the weight loss would screech to a halt if I didn’t exercise.
The plateaus were coming in every two pounds down anyway.
I started out slowly. Very slowly.
(Just incidentally, the photo is NOT me. I have no idea who it is.)
The director of the center, had me start with five minutes on an exercise bike, then he guided me through a series of weight lifting machines.
I started at ten pounds on every one of the machines, and it was still very hard.
I finished up with another five minutes on the exercise bike, and hobbled out for the day, vowing never to return.
But the next day, there I was, back at it.
After a week, I was upping the weight a little bit on some of the exercises, and I upped my initial bike ride to ten minutes.
Now, about two months into my self-improvement program, I’m not quite a new person, but I’m certainly better than the old one.
I’ve lost 18 pounds, and I’ve upped the weight on some of the machines to 50 pounds.
Some of them are still at pretty low weights, but I am improving and I can tell.
Best of all, I feel better.
I have more energy and I don’t sleep away my weekends.
I can carry the laundry basket up and down the steps, and I don’t get winded when I walk to the chamber office.
My backpack doesn’t feel as if I’m carrying around a load of concrete every day, and it’s much easier to get the groceries up the front steps.
I feel steadier on my feet.
As my current motivation, I have an application form for the local 5K on my bulletin board, and if I can work my way up to it, I’m going to enter.
My goal is not to win, but I would love to finish.
As of this writing, I’m walking one mile every day, and if I can make it to 3 1/2 before the day of the event without killing myself, I’ll be at the starting line.
Let me make this perfectly clear: I still hate exercise. I loathe waking up at 5 a.m. to be at the fitness center before work.
I miss eating cheese and fried catfish.
But I love the way I feel, and it’s worth getting up early, sweating at the gym and keeping within my Weight Watchers points to accomplish it.
The best part of the whole process is the way my girls talk about me now.
They are proud of me, and they say so.
Some of it, I’m sure, is the road I’ve walked to get back to teaching, but a large portion of it is my uphill battle to good health.
I always tried to set a good example by not swearing (much), going to church on Sunday and getting up and going to work every day, as well as making my bed and all those other things mothers are supposed to do.
I’m so glad that now they can see a mother who set a goal of good health, and is trying, every day, to meet it.
I have my eye on a 5K at the end of July, if I can work my way up to it. My foot hurts some today, and I only did my weights and walked a mile at the gym. I'm going to have to step it up some if I intend to make the 5K. I don't want to win, but I would dearly love to finish.
This is something I wrote recently:
I never really considered myself a senior citizen, although I could probably get the discount at most businesses.
But the years are creeping up on me and the extra weight and lack of exercise were making me old long before my time.
Getting up and down the stairs to do laundry was a chore - I pushed the basket in front of me as I went up the steps, and dragged it behind me to get down.
I was falling down far more frequently than I ever did before, and getting groceries from the car to the kitchen was a job that left be breathless.
I couldn't walk across the street without getting winded, and and I never walked up the steps to an office
I have to visit regularly. I waited for the elevator.I was exhausted all the time, and spent Saturday and Sunday taking long naps.
Looming in the background was a family history (both sides of the family) of diabetes and heart disease.
In short, I was getting old and feeble long before I was ready, and I could easily have auditioned to be the Razorback hog mascot - and won the part.
It was time. If I was ever going to do the things I intended to do, like hike in the mountains, learn to canoe and sail, take a walking tour of Europe and ride horses again, I was going to have to do something about my health.
I was also thinking that if I intended to keep up with a group of fourth graders in the fall, I was really going to have to get in shape.
I started by going online and joining Weight Watchers, and after a week of counting points, I stepped on my bathroom scale.
The whole process nearly ground to a halt right there - I could easily have had a heart attack on the spot.
But I decided that rather than be a candidate for an early grave, I was going to dig in and really do something about my health.
After about three weeks and minus six pounds, I bit the bullet and walked into the local fitness center, because I knew that the weight loss would screech to a halt if I didn’t exercise.
The plateaus were coming in every two pounds down anyway.
I started out slowly. Very slowly.
(Just incidentally, the photo is NOT me. I have no idea who it is.)
The director of the center, had me start with five minutes on an exercise bike, then he guided me through a series of weight lifting machines.
I started at ten pounds on every one of the machines, and it was still very hard.
I finished up with another five minutes on the exercise bike, and hobbled out for the day, vowing never to return.
But the next day, there I was, back at it.
After a week, I was upping the weight a little bit on some of the exercises, and I upped my initial bike ride to ten minutes.
Now, about two months into my self-improvement program, I’m not quite a new person, but I’m certainly better than the old one.
I’ve lost 18 pounds, and I’ve upped the weight on some of the machines to 50 pounds.
Some of them are still at pretty low weights, but I am improving and I can tell.
Best of all, I feel better.
I have more energy and I don’t sleep away my weekends.
I can carry the laundry basket up and down the steps, and I don’t get winded when I walk to the chamber office.
My backpack doesn’t feel as if I’m carrying around a load of concrete every day, and it’s much easier to get the groceries up the front steps.
I feel steadier on my feet.
As my current motivation, I have an application form for the local 5K on my bulletin board, and if I can work my way up to it, I’m going to enter.
My goal is not to win, but I would love to finish.
As of this writing, I’m walking one mile every day, and if I can make it to 3 1/2 before the day of the event without killing myself, I’ll be at the starting line.
Let me make this perfectly clear: I still hate exercise. I loathe waking up at 5 a.m. to be at the fitness center before work.
I miss eating cheese and fried catfish.
But I love the way I feel, and it’s worth getting up early, sweating at the gym and keeping within my Weight Watchers points to accomplish it.
The best part of the whole process is the way my girls talk about me now.
They are proud of me, and they say so.
Some of it, I’m sure, is the road I’ve walked to get back to teaching, but a large portion of it is my uphill battle to good health.
I always tried to set a good example by not swearing (much), going to church on Sunday and getting up and going to work every day, as well as making my bed and all those other things mothers are supposed to do.
I’m so glad that now they can see a mother who set a goal of good health, and is trying, every day, to meet it.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
New tricks for the old dog
I’m getting too old for this.
Teaching certification in Arkansas, at the elementary level, requires a course in Arkansas history, which I am taking on line right now.
My life is consumed with Arkansas history.
Within about four weeks, I am expected to read four books, a book’s worth of Internet notes, write a paper and take four tests and an exam.
I’m a fast reader and my comprehension has always been reasonably good.
I like history - always have.
But there is only so much this poor aging brain can absorb in a month, and at this point, I’m aiming for the old-fashioned gentleman’s C.
I’ve never been happy with less than an A before, but I guess there comes a point when one must realize that there are limits to what can be done.
I don’t even get to write the paper on something about which I have some vague knowledge, like the 1927 flood or Rohwer - I have to write about the effects of the cotton gin on Arkansas economy or something like that.
Since I grew up in Virginia, taking Virginia history and visiting Virginia places of historic interest, I am not even very familiar with the topics being addressed.
Yes, I did know what 36-30 meant (the line below which slavery would be allowed), and I knew about Manifest Destiny, but I challenge each and every person who is a) reading this, and b) from Arkansas, to tell me the name of DeSoto’s favorite dog.
Can’t do it? I didn’t think so.
This course is HARD.
How about a few more questions for you folks who were raised here:
Who was sent by Thomas Jefferson to explore the Ouachita River?
What were the Holford Bonds?
Who was the first territorial governor of Arkansas? Secretary?
I rest my case.
I’m pretty sure I’m the oldest person in the class - and that includes the professor - so maybe I should get the age curve or something.
But I did learn one thing when I went to the campus for my exam: Red tape is alive and well in our colleges and universities today.
I arrived to take my on-campus test and the professor said, “I need to talk to you first.”
(Always a bad sign.)
“You’re not in the course,” he said.
I’m what? I’ve been signed up for a month or more, I’ve been bugging everyone silly about it, I have bought four books, I have been studying like a fiend and I’m not in the course?
Apparently the cashier dropped me because I didn’t pay the bill.
The fact that I never got a bill, never saw a bill, never even heard anyone mention a bill cut no ice with anyone.
Before I was allowed to take the test, I had to go to the head of the department and see what could be done.
I walked into the head of the department’s office and was told to go see the registrar.
So I marched myself over to another building - a building that was a long way away from the building where I had started.
I was handed a green form by a woman who insisted that that I had gotten a bill because they had all been sent.
I promise - I never got a bill.
In any case, they said they would allow me to add the course.
So I hiked all the way back to the exam room, where my professor handed me the test and I handed him the green card and asked him to fill it out.
Anything I had possibly known about Arkansas history was totally gone from my head by this time, but I went ahead and gave it a shot.
It was hard.
It was very hard.
I am pleased to say that I got a B, and I’m here to tell you, that was a miracle.
After I took the test, I had about 10 minutes to get the card back from the professor, take it to have it signed by the head of the history department, and run it back across campus to the registrar’s office.
The registrar told me to call back on Thursday, because they couldn’t enter me in the course at that time, and I would need to be sure I was legally registered.
Then I was to call the cashier and be sure that I was appropriately billed.
Finally, worn out and ready for a Diet Coke and some low-fat popcorn, I climbed in my car and started home.
There were two good things about the day.
First, I made those two long round trip hikes across campus with no leg pain and no chest pain - I wasn’t even winded, and it was a long walk. I guess between Weight Watchers and the gym, I’m really making progress.
The other good news, of course, is that I got a B on the test.
Whew!
Maybe this old dog really can learn a new trick or two.
Teaching certification in Arkansas, at the elementary level, requires a course in Arkansas history, which I am taking on line right now.
My life is consumed with Arkansas history.
Within about four weeks, I am expected to read four books, a book’s worth of Internet notes, write a paper and take four tests and an exam.
I’m a fast reader and my comprehension has always been reasonably good.
I like history - always have.
But there is only so much this poor aging brain can absorb in a month, and at this point, I’m aiming for the old-fashioned gentleman’s C.
I’ve never been happy with less than an A before, but I guess there comes a point when one must realize that there are limits to what can be done.
I don’t even get to write the paper on something about which I have some vague knowledge, like the 1927 flood or Rohwer - I have to write about the effects of the cotton gin on Arkansas economy or something like that.
Since I grew up in Virginia, taking Virginia history and visiting Virginia places of historic interest, I am not even very familiar with the topics being addressed.
Yes, I did know what 36-30 meant (the line below which slavery would be allowed), and I knew about Manifest Destiny, but I challenge each and every person who is a) reading this, and b) from Arkansas, to tell me the name of DeSoto’s favorite dog.
Can’t do it? I didn’t think so.
This course is HARD.
How about a few more questions for you folks who were raised here:
Who was sent by Thomas Jefferson to explore the Ouachita River?
What were the Holford Bonds?
Who was the first territorial governor of Arkansas? Secretary?
I rest my case.
I’m pretty sure I’m the oldest person in the class - and that includes the professor - so maybe I should get the age curve or something.
But I did learn one thing when I went to the campus for my exam: Red tape is alive and well in our colleges and universities today.
I arrived to take my on-campus test and the professor said, “I need to talk to you first.”
(Always a bad sign.)
“You’re not in the course,” he said.
I’m what? I’ve been signed up for a month or more, I’ve been bugging everyone silly about it, I have bought four books, I have been studying like a fiend and I’m not in the course?
Apparently the cashier dropped me because I didn’t pay the bill.
The fact that I never got a bill, never saw a bill, never even heard anyone mention a bill cut no ice with anyone.
Before I was allowed to take the test, I had to go to the head of the department and see what could be done.
I walked into the head of the department’s office and was told to go see the registrar.
So I marched myself over to another building - a building that was a long way away from the building where I had started.
I was handed a green form by a woman who insisted that that I had gotten a bill because they had all been sent.
I promise - I never got a bill.
In any case, they said they would allow me to add the course.
So I hiked all the way back to the exam room, where my professor handed me the test and I handed him the green card and asked him to fill it out.
Anything I had possibly known about Arkansas history was totally gone from my head by this time, but I went ahead and gave it a shot.
It was hard.
It was very hard.
I am pleased to say that I got a B, and I’m here to tell you, that was a miracle.
After I took the test, I had about 10 minutes to get the card back from the professor, take it to have it signed by the head of the history department, and run it back across campus to the registrar’s office.
The registrar told me to call back on Thursday, because they couldn’t enter me in the course at that time, and I would need to be sure I was legally registered.
Then I was to call the cashier and be sure that I was appropriately billed.
Finally, worn out and ready for a Diet Coke and some low-fat popcorn, I climbed in my car and started home.
There were two good things about the day.
First, I made those two long round trip hikes across campus with no leg pain and no chest pain - I wasn’t even winded, and it was a long walk. I guess between Weight Watchers and the gym, I’m really making progress.
The other good news, of course, is that I got a B on the test.
Whew!
Maybe this old dog really can learn a new trick or two.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Down two more pounds
Well, I'm still at it, and have manged to lose another two pounds. I just wish it would show, but I know it's gone, so I'm happy about it. And I really do feel better. I didn't feel better this morning when I dragged myself out of bed at 5:30 to get to the gym and do my exercises for the day, but now that it's done, I do feel so ... noble, I guess. No matter what else happens, at least I've accomplished something today.
Arkansas has decreed that all elementary teachers must take Arkansas history to be fully certified, so I'm now working on that. It would be a lot easier if the teacher didn't spell debris as "depree" (I'm not making that up) and could manage to figure out that, if the Louisiana Purchase was in 1803 and Jefferson bought it from France, then Arkansas could not have belonged to Spain in 1803. Oh well, I'm probably being far too much the editor and far too little the student. I just hope I can pass the course. And by the way, can someone tell me why it's important for me to know that the name of DeSoto's favorite dog was Bruto? Sheeshhh.
All right, I suppose I'd better get some real work done.
Bruto? Oh, my!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
