Holy sweat city!

So Monday is leg day in the land of Beachbody #MBF (Muscle burns fat), and first of all, let me tell you how overjoyed I was when I saw a text from my sister on the group thread this morning just before 7, saying she hadn’t slept the night before and needed to catch some winks. I jumped right on that train and told the group I would work out later with my sister. I guess today she’s not Persistent Amanda. Today she’s Tired Amanda. And Tired Amanda needs a workout buddy, because doing it alone is the pits. 

So Tired Amanda ended up not being able to work our until after she put her kids to bed, and that worked for me, although I do have to admit that it’s extremely nice to have the workout over and done with before I even start work for the day. It’s kind of like when I worked at McDonald’s the summer I graduated high school and before I went to Germany. I worked 5am-1pm and I was basically a zombie for the first part of the day, but then I took a nap every afternoon and had the majority of the day to do whatever I wanted and it was basically the best thing ever! Also, on a side note, I was a rockstar working front drive through, and they called me SuperKate and gave me a medal because I was so speedy. They don’t even give medals at McDonald’s, but they gave me one! 

Another side story from McDonald’s because I still think it’s hilarious to this day: there was this kid named Noah that worked there, and one day he said, “no offense, but my dog’s name is Katie.” I said, “That’s cool. My last name is Noah.”  He didn’t believe me for the longest time. 😂😂😂

Anyway, excuse my side stories. So my calf muscles have been hurting and warning me that they’re about to jump ship all day, and today is leg day. So I welcomed the extra hours to recover and use my foam roller on those bad boys. I used to get horrible knots in my calf muscles when I played soccer, and then in my twenties I would get them in the middle of the night and they would suddenly wake me up with excruciating pain. I’m so fortunate to have not had that happen in more than ten years, but I’m still extra careful to go easy when I feel those muscles threatening to go old school. 

So yeah. Leg day. Four minutes into it, my quads started to burn like a wildfire, so I had to modify the moves and not lunge quite as low. But the thing kicked my butt regardless, and before long, I was POURING sweat. So. Much. Sweat. I had left my amazing Norwex workout towel (which I one million percent recommend to everyone! If you want to do yourself a favor and buy one, let me know and I’ll give you the link to buy one from my friend’s Norwex party. And yes, I make a commission if you’re wondering. But I only started selling Norwex because I couldn’t stop talking about it.) in the bedroom where Tim was sleeping, like a FOOL! I didn’t realize I would need it so badly! Good thing it was just my sister on FaceTime with me instead of my whole group, because I had to wipe my sweat with my shirt and I don’t love to show people my stomach. If you hunt down my episode of Altar’d, you can see my stomach on there, but I won’t be flashing it around town any time soon. 

Anyway, so now I’m all showered and fresh, with a cat laying on me while I write this, and I am ready to head to bed. After all, I have a 7 a.m. workout group with which to grace my sweaty presence. I REALLY wish I had a pool I could to jump into after workouts.

 

Big Things!

For the last few months, my sister has been talking to me about her morning workout group. 

Amanda: "You should join me! You would love it! We could do it together and it would be so good!" 

Me: "What are the dizzity deets?" (To spice up my life recently, I either add a bunch of unnecessary syllables to words or don't use full words. This is the way. Also, I didn't actually say that, but it's consistent with the lingo I use with my sister. Recently I DID say this phrase to my husband: "Hey Babe, can you get the lasagns out of the freeze? Thanks.")

Amanda: "You buy the Beachbody streaming workout and then you get on Zoom with my group every morning at 7am! It would be so good for you and you would seriously love it!"

Me: "HAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA"

This will probably not come as a shock to most people that I HATE MORNINGS. I LOVE working from home, because I literally set my alarm for 3 minutes before my first morning meeting, roll out of bed and stumble into my workday. I'm supes class like that. (AKA super classy. I'm just giving some more fun examples of my current strike on full words. Don't worry, I realize it's totes ridic. We all need a little fun in our lives right now.)

Also, I have a gym membership and I have home workouts and I've sort of been doing the dancy Figure 8 workout I bought a few months ago, and it's a disgusting swamp in my house all the time because it's monsoon season in AZ and we have a swamp cooler. I now realize to the full extent why they named it that. I half expect an alligator to crawl up from under the house at any moment.

So Amanda, or PERSISTENT AMANDA as we'll call her in this episode of "How I wore my sister down," would leave it alone for a few weeks and then bring it up again. I continued to laugh at her attempts because above all else, my hatred for the morning runs deep and prevails over most things. I'm not even kidding, when I woke up on my wedding day, I thought, "I mean, do I HAVE to get up? How important is this wedding thing?" Clearly the wedding thing won that day, as I now possess an adorable and quirky husband who can't wait to have kids. And neither can I, but we've had no success in the pregnancy department, and we're coming up on four years of marriage.

So we're seeing a reproductive specialist. Besides the obviousness of just having to lose weight to increase my chances of getting pregnant and carrying healthy babies (we're praying for twins, I only want to be pregnant once. I'm gettin' OLD!), I was FINALLY diagnosed with PCOS after telling my last few doctors that I strongly suspected that I have it and them pretty much brushing it aside. Long story short, PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) makes it difficult to get pregnant because it messes with my hormones and ovulation. The doctor is confident in helping me ovulate, and he also gave me some new diet tips that he thinks will help me lose weight (daily probiotic sauerkraut and lots of seafood among new supplements and other stuff) and I'm suddenly feeling the urge to also work out and get this thing going.

It has been incredibly difficult for me to lose weight for about the past 5 years, even when I've had consistent workout plans and nutrition in place. Tim and I did a 40 day sugar fast recently, and I did not lose a single pound. And I am a stickler for following the rules and not cheating. My body just isn't responding like it used to as I get older. Also with the pandemic closing everything down and shortening hours, even when they did open the gym back up the hours are limited and I can't go in the evenings when I've historically preferred to work out.

So with all of these factors in place, last weekend I'm talking to Persistent Amanda, and she brings up the workout group again. 

Persistent Amanda: "You really should do it. We're starting a new challenge on Monday and it's $100 for an entire year of Beachbody on Demand, so you get access to all the workout programs."

Me: "Ugghhhhh fine."

Persistent Amanda: "Ok, I'm gonna send you a link to sign up right now."

*Ding* (imaginary email noise immediately)

Me: "This is $160."

Persistent Amanda: "I know, but you get a bag of Shakeology, which is usually a lot more, and you get access to the nutrition program, and it's a really really good deal."

Me: "I really can't do more than $100 right now because it's the rent check week, and with the next paycheck I was gonna get (our kitten) Ham's balls chopped off, but then Tim reminded me that his car needs an alignment and mine needs a transmission flush and..."

*Ding* (Venmo app notification) Amanda Spaulding has sent you $60

Persistent Amanda: "Check your Venmo, Dude."

Me: "Well, I guess I'm signing up now."

So against a lot of odds, Monday morning I started the mbf (muscle burns fat) Beachbody program, and it's a lot like cross fit, and it's really good. I was not excited about starting it or the earlyness of the group Zoom workout, and from Tuesday to Thursday my quads were excruciatingly painful, but it's been most of a week now, and I am actually really loving this change! It gets me going in the morning, and it's really nice to just have it done and out of the way, and I'm starting to feel actual desire to work out again. I still dread the waking up part, and I think that will always be the case, but I can push past that and attack these workouts like the old Fitness K8! 

I know that so many of you need the same accountability that I need to consistently work out, and for that reason, yesterday I upgraded my account to become a Beachbody coach, and I'm asking you all to consider joining me! Come join my team and let me encourage you daily, because that has always been the best way for me to stay motivated! There are SO many different types of workouts to choose from, and you don't even have to do the same one I'm doing if you don't want to! But please join me! Let's take back 2020 from the nightmare it's trying to be. There are still four months left in this year, and we can achieve a lot in that time! The endorphins are necessary to get us through this thing!

The MBF program is 21 days, and these are my before photos. My starting weight was 279. Seriously, if I can do this, anyone can!

 

Ready to fight

Nine years ago, when I completely changed my lifestyle and lost a bunch of weight, I swore I would never go back to the way things were before. I honestly believed that I wouldn't, but I was underestimating life. Grief and stress basically used me as bowling pins and continually knocked me over when I was just trying to stand there looking sleek and curvy, the same size as everyone else.

I just went back and read my entire blog. Every post. And while I enjoyed my humor and appreciated how far I've come in just knowing what's good for me and how to eat and the fact that running won't kill me (why was I SO terrified of running?), I noticed that for that last 6 years, I've barely written anything, and like I said in one of those past posts, if I'm not writing, I'm not doing well. Period.

I've known that I was unmotivated for the last 6 years, and I didn't care enough to do much about it. When I was on a weight loss show in 2016, and doing a cross fit challenge at the end of 2018, my heart wasn't there. I went through the programs, because I knew they would help and I was trying to force my mindset, but because I wasn't truly motivated, once they were over, I didn't stick to them. And I couldn't even muster the strength to care that much.

But now I'm 39, and Tim and I want babies, so I know I have to get my life in order and my butt in gear and do something about my health. We haven't gotten pregnant in the three years that we've been hoping we would, so I went to the doctor to figure stuff out, and to get my body to a place where it can carry a child. I'm scared it won't get there, and we want to adopt regardless as well, but while I plead with the Lord to give us babies, I have started to put the smack down (and the snacks down) and do everything in my power to make it possible.

Starting at the end of March, while the world began to isolate and it would have been really easy to stock up on candy and soda and pizza and ice cream, Tim and I committed to a 40-day sugar fast, and I am half proud, half unbelieving, and wholly grateful to say that we stuck it out and finished strong. Weirdly enough, I didn't even have any sugar cravings most of the time, because before we started I was just feeling so gross and done with junk food.

Coming out of the fast, we knew we had to have a plan in place, or we would just end up diving right back into our old habits, and neither of us wants to feel or be so sludgy and unhealthy again. So after some discussion, we agreed on an allowance of three items per week, which means that if we want a soda, that's an item. If we want a donut at church (once that becomes available again), we have to budget for that and have a maximum of two items between Monday and Saturday. Not only does this plan limit the amount of sugar we're putting in our bodies, it also makes us think about what items are actually worth it.

For example, I've never been a huge cake fan, but if it's there, I'll eat it. I don't want to have that mindset, because then "I'll just eat" everything. Where do you draw the line? On the other hand, while I do actually like water and don't mind drinking that most of the time (after my morning vat of iced coffee has been consumed), I really REEEEAAAALLLY love coke and root beer. So one of those bad boys is absolutely worth an item for me, and the limit on items causes me to take my time and actually enjoy the item I have chosen.

For whatever reason, while the eating has been under control for a while, I haven't been working out or even walking almost at all, and I can feel my body slowly turning into one of the White Witch's stone statues Tim and I are currently reading about in the Chronicles of Narnia. I know how dangerous this is, and yet: it remains difficult for me to put on the workout clothes and initiate some type of workout. A couple months ago, I came across a dance-based workout called Figure 8 with Jaana Kunitz, and it looked like so much fun that I bought it. I love dancing, and I need my workouts to be fun if I'm gonna stick with them.

But even with a fun workout, it took me months to start. I bought the workout (streaming from an app that you can play on your smart tv or your phone or tablet, along with the DVDs, in case anyone is interested and wants to go get the workout and do it along with me! Accountability is the best way to do everything, so join me! Buy the workout HERE) on April 5th, and just did Day 1 tonight. They give you an 8 week workout schedule and I am PLEDGING to finish the whole thing. Tomorrow I'm taking beginning body measurements and weight and pictures. For now, I'm just posting this picture of my red, post-exercise cheeks accentuated by this adorable kitten. In 8 weeks, I will be smaller, and he will be bigger. Can't wait for the side-by-side!

Why is my face so red?

My mom has mentioned a few times lately how we Noah children always got really red faces whenever we exercised as kids and it used to freak her out. Especially when we moved to Tucson when I was 13 and we played soccer here. I don't know why she would freak out though... it's not like we were exerting ourselves in 115 evil degree oven-like temperatures or anything. Oh wait...

So I still get that red face when I work out today, no matter how good or bad of shape I'm in. It has nothing to do with being close to heat stroke and death, so there's no longer any need for my mom to freak out, but it sure isn't attractive. I would love to look glowy and beautiful when I work out, but I'm pretty sure I just look like I'm in labor every time. Super confidence-boosting.

Maybe I shouldn't care anymore. I am married now, after all, and my husband thinks I'm gorgeous us and/or adorable no matter what I do. And that's the best feeling ever, and one that I waited a loooooooong time for. One I thought for years I would never experience, and one that I wish for every woman (and man, for that matter!).

But it's nice to feel confident in how I look, and a red face simply isn't my top choice in glamour.  I took this photo just now. The redness has faded quite a bit, but I got home from the gym TWO HOURS ago!

Oh, but hey... did I mention I went to the gym tonight? So the awesome red face is worth it. Since my last post, I've gained a Monday night gym buddy, and we've gone to a yoga class together three times. I like that instead of saying, "oh yeah! Let's meet at the gym sometimes," we committed to a certain class on a specific night. Having a class to be there for keeps us going more consistently. 

And also, it's disheartening because it's showing me just how out of shape I am. It's good to have that as a starting point though, and I want to remember that feeling, because even in three weeks with only a little effort, I've made progress. I did better in class tonight than I have the previous two weeks, and I'm looking forward to the day that my stomach isn't in the way and I don't fall over during balance poses, and my body can move with more ease.

I feel like I should be doing more to lose weight, but I know that taking my puppy for walks and doing this yoga class are a pretty good start. I have a busy schedule and it's hard to fit in workouts, so I'm starting small, and I'll add things in as I go along. Maybe it's just time to embrace that red face.
 

Ready, set, RESET!

Oh hey! Remember me? I sure remember a me that I want to get back to. Here's a quick recap:

I lost a bunch of weight and documented here for all to be motivated by. It held me accountable. I loved it. I got down to 215 pounds.

In 2013 I started working at a veterinarian office with pretty endless sweets on the weekends. At first I resisted, but it started to get me.

In 2014 I quit trying altogether in favor of grief eating. I gained a ton of weight back.

In 2016 my then-fiance and I were on a reality weight-loss show and I gained a bunch of muscle and lost a lot of fat before our wedding.

The first year of marriage was very stressful and I once again abandoned all progress to deal the way I know I shouldn't but I do anyway: stress-eating.

And I'm back to 271 pounds, and I feel gross and my body moves like an old woman, and I don't like how I look in anything, and I'm just uncomfortable all the time.

Tim has had so much self-control in the last month or so, and he lost 18 pounds in the weeks before we went to South Africa in the beginning of August. He gained 5 back while we were there, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had actually lost a few pounds! I've been having a hard time coming up with any motivation to really put in the effort to lose weight again, but something in seeing no weight gain on a trip I thought had certainly added more pounds gave me that little kick I needed!

Tim and I have been going to bed early (10pm), and this morning I woke up at 6. I *almost* got out of bed and went to the gym, but I decided to be lazy. I don't know why, other than just bad habits and self-sabotage, but I made up for it tonight when we were trying to come up with something to do before bed that wouldn't keep us up until midnight, because we're really trying to stay on this new schedule and start getting enough sleep.

Tim had suggested going to a movie earlier in the day, but I vetoed that idea when I realized we would go to bed after midnight for a movie I didn't even care about. T-Mobile Tuesday was giving us $2 apiece for Baskin Robbins, but I nixed that idea because last time we did that, Tim was mad at himself afterward for eating ice cream and sabotaging himself. So I suggested a walk.

We took 20 minutes to walk around our block, which is 1.09 miles if you include one cul-de-sac, which we did. We are committing to walking together 5 evenings a week, and I'm really looking forward to some consistency. My gym workouts have been few and far between lately.

I'm feeling motivated, but even if the motivation goes away, I am committing to this. To myself. To my husband and our future children. To my life.

After our walk tonight

Operation mountain goat

I've had my eye on this particular hiking trail for about six months now.  I keep saying I'm gonna go do the hike, and I've asked people multiple times to come with me, but it just hasn't happened yet.

Also, I'm super out of shape so I'm a little bit afraid of this hike, since I don't know what it holds.  Is it crazy terrain?  Is it super steep?  Does it lead to the den of a hungry mountain lion waiting to devour whatever out of shape fool wanders near?  I have no clue. 

I think what I want more than anything is to just be able to go climb up that mountain like it's not a big deal.  I don't want hills and hiking to get in the way of my life.  I want to be able to hike down into the hills of Embo in South Africa and take pictures of the people in their homes and in their poverty and not worry about spraining my ankles or breaking any bones or not being able to climb back out.

So the other day I was coming home from going on a walk with my friend Tracy, and I didn't feel like I had gotten enough of a workout.  I was passing the hiking trail and I decided that I was just gonna go for it.  I was already dressed for it, which is half the battle, and I was right there.  It was time.

I started out on the trail and was relieved to find out that it's broad and pretty level.  Not tons of loose rocks, although there was plenty of loose horse poo and pretty little bursts of flowers/weeds, none of which I wanted to step on.



 

The trail is easy enough, and not too steep, but being so out of shape, it was still difficult for me.

I decided to hike uphill for a mile, and then simultaneously regretted my decision (mostly because I had to go to the bathroom) and determined to see it through (and prayed that God would put a hold on my need for a toilet.)

This was about halfway into my uphill mile.

 I may look uncertain, but I was happy to be there, and the views were totally worth it.

 Here I am at exactly one mile up, with the sun and the hardest work behind me.

It's embarrassing that this easy of a hike is difficult for me.  When Tim and I have kids, I want to be able to go on hikes like this as a family.  I want to lead by example and not just "shoulds."  I want to establish habits of a healthy lifestyle from the get go, and that needs to start now.  Time to get serious about this climb.

The Color Run strikes again

Three times I have signed up for the Color Run.  Three times upon signing up for the Color Run, I have sworn that I would be able to run the whole thing.  Three times I have failed.  But I'm not giving up.

Last weekend, Rocio and I braved the early early early early morning and headed to Dodger Stadium, where we fogged (fake jogged... it's totally a real thing) our way through a 3.1 mile course dotted with five stations of colored cornstarch that transformed our white shirts into a mash-up of different hues.

And this time there were hills.

The first two color runs we did were completely flat courses, but not Dodger Stadium.  Straight out of the gate, we were headed uphill, and my already unimpressive endurance was cut down dramatically by the onslaught of a mountain tall enough to intimidate even the hikiest of hikers.  Okay, that might be a little bit of an exaggeration.  Or maybe even entirely false.  Okay, so really it's just a normal hill, not even as steep as my driveway (which is crazy steep, for the record.), but when I get winded walking up hills, you can bet that running sure isn't gonna happen.

And then, once we had gone downhill for a little bit, there were all these switchbacks, making us go back up.  So I just stuck to the fogging on the downhill segments and trudged my way up on the torture uphill portions.  It was a pretty good system.  It got me to the end at least.

Since there had to be hills, I was extra grateful for the clouds that made the sun less brutal.  Our first color run was miserably hot.  I would do hills with cloud cover over a straight course in mid-afternoon under an unrelenting sun any day!

Oh, and I've lost 5 pounds since my last blog post. HALLELUJAH!

I WILL fully run a 5K soon.