Tag Archives: weight

Six Weeks to a Six Pack

By October, my September adrenaline addiction matured into an endorphin addiction. This new obsession with exercise shows no sign of waning.

I’ve always had an addictive personality: I find a new Joy, then dive in whole-heartedly, spend the cash, abandon other interests, and revel in the new bliss until something else shiny catches my eye. Past addictions include my old school Fisher Price Little People collection (I couldn’t pass a thrift store without checking the toy section), spinning and weaving, quilting, and — from 2015 to 2017 — Lego.

My Fitbit stats by 8:30pm.

These days it’s all about testing the limits of what I’m physically capable of. Yesterday, my morning workout wasn’t enough: freshly showered, I decided to climb a (smallish) mountain just because it looked pretty with the new snow. On my own. Despite knowing full well I had kickboxing that evening.

I’ve never been a gym rat, and I’m curious at this change in myself. Situations where Old Heather would have quit — like when I lost the trail yesterday, and found myself walking up the switchbacking road in 6″ of snow for what felt like an hour — are no longer insurmountable challenges.

Feeling the Burn = Feeling Something

There’s a weird numbness in me these days: like when your leg is asleep, so you hit it or pinch it to test what you can feel. I’m pushing my body harder and harder, trying to see when the discomfort will become Too Much.

It started with gym workouts, which were hard the first few times but soon became my routine three mornings a week. Then Zumba: I wasn’t even sweating by the end of the six-week session. I can force myself up the climbing wall, on harder and harder routes, and the only time I feel that old fear of heights is the moment I let go of the wall and have to trust the equipment to lower me back down.

Kickboxing is my new self-dare. Skipping rope for long minutes is the hardest thing I’ve done yet. Or, I should say “was” the hardest thing: after trudging up those Swansea switchbacks, kickboxing was a breeze last night.

She’s Always Been a Pleaser

I like people petting my head and telling me I’m doing a good job, and physical activity gives me that positive reinforcement.

Brittany the gym instructor: “You’re stronger than you think you are.”

Mr. Weller the climbing guru: “You’re a natural.”

Jeannette the gym instructor: “You work hard.”

Dallas the hiking buddy: “You’re a strong hiker.”

I like being good at something (don’t we all?) and this is the first time I’ve made full use of my healthy, physically-capable body.

Advice from a Born Again Exerciser

The pros probably know this wisdom, but I’ll share for my fellow newbs:

  • If you wake up and it hurts, the best advice is “hair of the dog.” Go exercise again and the aches go away.
  • One kind of exercise makes other kinds easier. Climbing has made lifting weights easier, and ditto in reverse. Dancing and kickboxing are the same, except for the punching and kicking and getting hit parts.
  • It’s okay to do lots of different things on the same day. At first I was nervous I’d tire my body out by overusing it, but the gym warms up my legs for hiking, and hiking turns kickboxing into a nice stretch. My muscles are warm and loose all day long, and everything gets easier. (It just hurts the next day.)
  • To avoid hurting the next day: take time to stretch, and use a roller. It’s worth spending some cash on a silly piece of foam. Drink water.
  • There are many, many ways to exercise. I keep trying new things to see what I most enjoy. I’ve tried the gym twice before in my life and hated it: it’s only right for me at this point in my life. If you hate the gym (or whatever activity), stop going and try something else.
  • I was a healthy weight for my body type before this madness started, and now need to eat like an 17-year-old boy just to maintain that weight. My body tells me to stuff my face throughout the day, and whether to have chicken fajitas or salad. I listen to my body and we’re doing just fine.
  • Take a “before” photo. I should have! But I didn’t. I just get to admire my new arms and abs. Presumably the change in my body will become even more impressive if this addiction continues, and I could take a “sorta-before” photo now, but it’s not the same.
Predictions

I have no idea how long this exercise thing will last. Maybe it’s just part of my new Plan B life here in this active community? I’ve been desperate for some self-care after the five years I was a full-time caregiver to others, and it feels so good to revel in this newfound freedom: to be able to hike up a mountain if I want to.

With the winter comes snowboarding, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing and maybe skating. Sledding and tubing with my kid. And then summer, with all the hikes around here I’ve yet to attempt. My Instagram feed will be chock-a-block full of spectacular mountain vistas.

And I will be the strongest I’ve ever been.

A well-earned victory photo at the summit of Mount Swansea. (November 7, 2018.)

 

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The Math

My sweetie is getting very skinny. Before he got sick, he was close to 250 lbs. This month he fell just under 200 lbs. He’s losing something around 3 lbs every two weeks. In a few years he would weigh the same as our toddler, if he managed to live that long.

At the same time, the evil tumours are doubling and tripling in size every two months. If he lives into 2017, the tumours will be jutting out from his gut like an alien. They’ll have grown into every part of his abdomen. He’ll be solid tumour.