DAYS 79-93

Well, it's been another two weeks since I took pen to paper, and I have to admit...I'm embarrassed about it. The last time I checked in, I was convinced my wallowing was over, and I'd signed up for Class Pass and felt ready to tackle my goals.

Except, my brain and body didn't agree on that. After signing up for my first class, I was nervous but excited. I was going to try out a pilates class - something I had wanted to try for YEARS. Now was my time! But when it came time to actually go to the class, anxiety took over. I was short of breath with sharp chest pains, and an overwhelming sense of nausea set in. I tried to breathe through the panic. I used all my best tricks - counting down from 100, my slow belly breathing, and (my personal favorite) telling Rory what's happening. Nothing seemed to work. Even when I was able to catch my breath, the nausea intensified. I didn't know what to do. Thinking I wasn't up for pilates in the near future, I canceled my class and the panic IMMEDIATELY subsided. 

I spent the rest of the night sulking.

The next day, I had planned to go to a Spinning class with my friend who is obsessed with the studio I'd booked. She was jazzed, and I was too! Spin sounded like a ball. I already loved the stationary bike. But add a room with some motivational leaders and some fun music, it sounded right up my alley. Of course, an hour before the class, though, my dreaded panic set in again. Determined not to let my friend down, I made it to the studio. I asked the teacher to help me set up my bike (because apparently that's a huge ordeal), I put on my spin shoes and I was ready to go!

What I realized over the course of that class, though, is that I was NOT ready to go. Oh my god, was I out of my league or what. What I hadn't realized about spin is that there's not much sitting on your stationary bike, and my body just wasn't strong enough to hold myself up like that yet. My knees ached from standing, and when I took a few minutes to sit, the seat immediately dug into my butt (pretty sure I'm still bruised down there). There were times when the class felt so long that I didn't know if I was going to make it through. All the joints and muscles in my body revolted, despite everyone around me looking like they were having the time of their life. By the end of the hour, my body was drenched in sweat - literally every surface of my body was sweating (including the backs of my hands which I legitimately didn't know COULD sweat). And I felt defeated. I had been working out for nearly three months, and I felt like I had nothing to show for it. I was still REALLY out of shape.

I will say that in the hour following spin, my endorphins reached such an all time high that I thought the whole thing might be like giving childbirth, that I'd magically forget the torture of the class and only remember the resulting high. But...alas, I don't have spin amnesia, and I don't think I'll be ready to take another stab at it any time soon.

In fact, since the disaster of the spin class, I've been too intimidated and upset to try another class. And that really bums me out. I feel a little defeated, to be honest. Every time I try and make myself work out, I make a slew of excuses about what I could be doing instead. Which has resulted in a solid week and a half of me rewatching all of Gilmore Girls on Netflix and not much else. 

Ultimately, I'm giving myself a break. That doesn't mean I'm going to continue being a lump on my couch for whatever show comes after my Gilmore Girls rewatch, but it does mean I'm not going to shame myself for doing what I need to do. The next few weeks are going to be a time of immense change for me. I'm going to be leaving my first solo grownup apartment and move back into a roommate situation. I'm going to leave behind West Hollywood, which has been my neighborhood for the past six years. I'm going to sell or get rid of a lot of my stuff that I've accumulated and start fresh. And I'm going to hopefully find a part time job I can stay with for the foreseeable future to supplement my writers' assistant income and be able to not stress about paying my bills. I mean, that's a LOT of stuff to do. For anyone, much less someone who's going through their first real breakup. 

But, holding myself accountable and recognizing my feelings is the first step to getting back on track. I figure that if I keep telling myself I'm going to do this that I'll be able to Secret it into existence (that's how that works, right?). Since acknowledging my lack of interest in exercising right now, I've started taking long walks. Just around the block, nothing high impact. But something to get me out of my apartment and on my feet. I'm hoping that I'll be able to push myself back into a regular exercise routine sooner rather than later, but I'm not beating myself up about it either. Mostly because I know I'm not giving up.

A few months ago, if I'd encountered something like this, I would have been off exercise for the long haul, completely uninterested in maintaining my healthy eating, but I know I have to do this. So....that's what I'm going to do. 

DAYS 45-47

The past few days have been strange and unexpected. Having passed through two weeks of staffing and not finding any summer prospects, I'd resigned myself to a summer of working out and writing and form a solid foundation for my routine before I went back to work in August. All of this was thrown out the window, however, when I received a full time position for the summer. I was mid-hike when I got the text, asking me if I could babysit that night. To which I immediately said yes. But after the night of sitting, they sprung the full time offer on me. And I was slightly blind sided.

Though, I knew I wanted to - the family is great, the kid is great, and we'd worked together before, so I felt good about making a summer long commitment - the doubts started to creep in. When was I going to fit in my workout? I'd be working 12 hour days, and taking care of a toddler. Would I be able to maintain my exercise schedule with those kinds of hours? And what about food? Would I have time to prep my meal plan? Would I be more tempted to "cheat?" Anxiety took over. I wasn't ready for this so soon!

I told them I had to think about it, and they were more than happy with that answer, which I appreciated. I was so exhausted from my week of not sleeping, though, that I slept through my alarm the next morning and missed my window of opportunity to go to the gym. So it begins, I groaned to myself as I prepared for another afternoon of work.

But what I didn't anticipate was how helpful and accommodating the family would be. As soon as I told the mother my anxieties, she completely understood. She was so impressed by my motivation and desire to keep pushing forward toward my goals that she said she would do anything to make it work for me. Exercise could be shoehorned into the day while the toddler napped, she told me as she waxed on about the gloriousness of fitness DVDs. She even gave me a few to take home that night, to try out and see if I liked them. Or, I could take the toddler hiking with me, she suggested. Their home is close to several hikes and the entire neighborhood is uphill. As for food, she said I was welcome to take anything from their fridge. They actually use an at home food delivery service, which is farm to table and can be altered in order to fit my fitness needs. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't even begin to describe my gratitude for her support. Suddenly, the idea of going back to work seemed less daunting. 

Plus, going home and looking at my step count for the day, I realized that my activity level was automatically going to go up in trying to take care of a toddler, who wanted to run around all day. 

I woke up this morning feeling incredibly motivated, and ready to tackle the next leg of my fitness journey. And this only made it that much better. Finally getting into the 240s on the scale.

At first I was a little bummed out, I'm not going to lie. I had been home for three weeks and only lost two pounds. But also...finally seeing below 250 was pretty amazing. And I need to remember that this is an accumulation of pounds lost. Not a sprint. Plus, it meant that I could get myself a 10lb reward for myself. It popped out at the gym today. Something I've desperately wanted for my hikes - an arm band for my phone! And it's pink, because that's how I roll. I also finally bought Ed Sheeren's album for myself, which totally got me pumped during my cardio on the stationary bike. 

 And though, no, it's not what I thought this summer would be, I'm excited to see what it will bring. Even if it means figuring out a new fitness schedule and a new meal plan, I know I am committed to myself and my health goals no matter what. As always, let's keep doing this!

DAY 6

There are many days where I wonder if being in LA contributes to my skewed body image. Today was one of those days. 

After being a productive adult (four loads of laundry, dishes, dogs walked, meals prepped), I met up with one of my best friends to tackle Runyon yet again. Though I wasn't anticipating it being a breeze all of a sudden, I secretly wished it would be. The last time I hiked with her I was in far better shape. Plus, she's an aspiring pro golfer, who could probably run Runyon up and down twice before I slow trekked my way to the top. Regardless of my trepidation, I was grateful for the company. Especially because it allowed me to take not just one but two puppy friends for the hike. 

The hike itself wasn't as bad as yesterday. I certainly wasn't sprinting uphill, but I took fewer breaks (though it took all my courage to ask her to pause for the first one). It was really our conversation that got my wheels spinning. She told me she wasn't really isn't LA right now and asked if I'd ever consider moving away. And I wasn't really sure how to answer. I used to be 100% certain that I'd move back to New York, that I'd NEVER want to be an LA person. But that changed many years ago when it became clear to me it was a necessity to stay in LA if I wanted to write for television. I'd have to pull a Lena Dunham and sell a hit show to a major network who wouldn't mind me setting up shop in NYC for me to ever realistically consider returning. But her question gave me pause regardless. 

Had my body image suffered because of regularly working with actors and actresses? Did I internally compare myself to the fashion forward models in my neighborhood who looked gorgeous first thing in the morning as they walked their dogs? And would that change in another city?

I recently received a message from a girl I went to college with but didn't know very well, who expressed similar self esteem and body dysmorphia issues to the ones I'd experienced. She moved away from LA, reached her lowest weight and still was unhappy with her body. 

And as I hiked today, taking in the wide array of fit bodies along the trail, I acknowledged that it doesn't matter where you live or who you're surrounded by. You will always compare yourself to others unfavorably if you don't know how to be happy in the body you have. I'm working on that, slowly but surely (even if my face doesn't look super happy, it's still a proud one!)

Let's keep doing this!

DAY 5

I woke up determined to make today a better day, and I’m proud to say that I did. After a long successful day of watching more episodes of Daredevil on Netflix, meeting a friend for lunch, and wrangling three dogs (during hiatus my apartment has turned into a puppy hotel), I finally got ready for my hike at Runyon Canyon. 

Though my dog, Rory, used to be able to do this hike with me, with my weight gain I’ve noticed she’s progressively gotten lazier. She now huffs and puffs up Runyon and refuses to walk without tummy rub breaks after every hill. Since I was feeling more determined than every to nail my hike, I decided to bring Milly with me, one of the spryer dogs in our care. Geared with my heart rate monitor, water bottle, and cellphone, and Milly with her harness and leash, I felt ready to conquer my hike.

I should admit that Runyon is considered an extremely easy hike by most in LA. In fact, the place is crowded on Saturday and Sunday mornings with hungover hipsters who are looking more to socialize than exercise. However, I’m able to add an extra two miles to this hike by walking from my apartment. Five miles, door to door. My boyfriend and I joke that this means there’s a hike to get to the hike, and I nearly killed my mom making her walk with me last year. But Milly was jazzed, and I was jazzed, and we were going to do this.

It started off okay. The hike to the hike was broken up by crosswalks and Milly’s multiple potty breaks, as well as a few seconds to pause and take pictures of the motivational art that leads the sidewalks up to Runyon. 

But once we passed through the gates of the park, I realized how incredibly out of breath I was already. I wiped my brow, which was dripping with sweat, and I cringed as I watched the picture perfect girls walk by me as I paused with Milly on some grass, pretending like she needed to pee again (but really just in desperate need of a breather). I contemplated turning around. This was so much harder than I remembered. I used to be able to do this walk with no breaks, but here I was, not even at the start of the hike and I’d already felt the need to sit down.

I resisted, though, and instead turned my iTunes radio to the 90s Pop station, put my ear buds in, and continued trekking. Fueled by the synth beats of NSYNC, Savage Garden, Ace of Base, etc…I began my climb. The first thing I needed to accept during my hike was that it was okay to take breaks. As I looked down at my heart rate monitor and looked at the number rise from the 170s to the 180s to the 190s to finally crossing 200, I resigned myself to the fact that resting was necessary. I couldn’t let my heart beat that fast for too long, not if I didn’t want to go past my maximum heart rate (I’m not sure what danger there is in going past that besides working my heart too hard, but I figured I should be cautious regardless). But it was actually okay. Resting for a minute gave me an opportunity to really appreciate my surroundings, let Milly say hi to a passing dog, and center myself. 

Though the hike was long and hard (while I used to be able to make the hike in 40 minutes, it took me nearly an hour to get to the top). But the view was entirely worth it. Because of my slow pace, I had unintentionally arrived at the top about ten minutes before sun set. I sat on a rock and drank the rest of my water bottle and smiled. For the first time in a very long time, I took a picture of myself smiling. It was a good feeling. Drenched in sweat and hugging a dog who I’d have to return to her owners in another day, I let my grin take over. There’s something really amazing about working up a sweat outside. Something innately freeing and calming. Maybe that’s just me, but when the view is this beautiful, it feels like an amazing reward for my hard work.

Milly and I took the steep way down in an effort to keep my heart rate up and get home faster (since the sun was setting and the sweat soaking through my clothes and skin was starting to make me a bit chilly). This was the result. And I’m proud. 

Three work outs done this week. One more to go. And I think I’m going to kick butt at that one, too. For more updates and pictures, I'm always posting to instagram and Twitter as charincharge. I have loved every interaction I've had with you guys and I can't believe the amount of support I've received. As always, let’s keep doing this.