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. 

DAY 52: SAN FRANCISCO BOUND

A few months ago, my best friend and I realized we hadn't seen each other in a year and a half - at our friend's wedding, for one night. These are the hazards of moving across the country, I guess. Our friendships, even the one we hold dearest, start to become just a few texts and calls and likes on Instagram photos. So, when she told me she was going to be up in San Francisco for business for a few days in June, I told her I'd be there. At the time, I had no idea where my life was headed. I had no clue the new trajectory my whole being would be struggling with, and it didn't really hit me until I left yesterday that this trip probably wasn't what either of us had originally pictured. That didn't mean that we weren't going to enjoy every second, though.

Me and V reunited. Second time in two months!

After learning how to road trip pretty early on in this journey (what was Santa Cruz...Day 2?), I prepared myself for the six hour drive up north with plenty of healthy snacks (apples, strawberries, almonds), grabbed my favorite Starbucks treat (Skinny Hazelnut Latte and an egg white spinach wrap) and hit the road. 

It was the first time I've been alone with my thoughts for that long since starting this journey, and it was a little more intense than I originally anticipated. When I get too emotional or things get hard, I reach for a security blanket. I think we all have them - whether it's a good book, a bottle of wine, a casual fling, etc. For me it's music. Those who met me after college might not even know how important music is to me, to my healing process. But my life dream used to be a different kind of writer - of the singer/songwriter variety. 

At age 11, my dad took me to a recording studio to lay down one of my songs (a lullaby I'd written for my baby cousins). Growing up in a music industry family, I was discouraged from pursuing a career in music from day 1. After recording my song, the sound technician told me how impressed he was with me. He couldn't believe I was only 11. He asked if I had other songs, and I showed him a notebook filled with lyrics. He asked if I wanted to record anything else, but my dad shut it down immediately. In the car ride back to our hotel, I was riding high - I mean, what I'd done was pretty freaking cool, for someone of any age, much less 11. I asked my dad if we could listen to the CD in the car, and he obliged. I was SO proud of myself. That was MY SONG. And as it played through the car speakers I could almost believe I was listening to myself on the radio. My high crashed quickly after my dad chimed in. "It's great, Charlotte. You have a really pretty voice. But...in order to make it in the industry you have to have a pretty face AND a pretty voice." I was devastated, but internally I agreed with him. Britney Spears had just released her first album (at 17), and I certainly didn't look like her. It was the age of the pretty blonde pop star, and I couldn't shoehorn myself into that category as much as I wanted to. At 11, I absorbed this information and took it as the truth because I had to. Not to mention it was compounded by another decade of my dad telling me - "You'd be so pretty if you just lost a little weight." 

And though I cut my dad out of my life two years ago, sometimes his voice creeps into my head. On Monday, the day that I "felt pretty," I heard his voice questioning me. And it only got louder during the six hour drive up to San Francisco. So, I put in my latest obsession (Ed Sheeran's X) and drowned out the thoughts with his music. I listened to the album five times, listening to his lyrics and chord progressions, and became profoundly more moved each time around. This was what I missed. This was the kind of music I wanted to write. About being a sap and a nerd and being confused and hurt and in love. I made a resolution: 50 lbs into this thing, I want to get a keyboard and start writing again. Because as therapeutic as writing this quasi-diary has been, I think it'll be even more so to have a soundtrack that goes along with this journey.

By the time I arrived in San Francisco, I was feeling more motivated than I ever had, ready to tackle the next few days with my bestie by my side. After a quick rest (because, man, driving six hours is exhausting any way you cut it), we headed out to dinner to an Asian fusion restaurant. I'd already looked up the menu and knew there were a few salad options that sounded really good, and was not disappointed. Over dinner, we discussed our plan for the next few days. V had just come from Chicago where she'd gorged on not the healthiest foods, so she was game for some healthy days. My fortune agreed.

(or at all)

After finishing our food, we decided that we wanted to walk around the city, mostly to get more steps in (before leaving the airbnb I'd clocked less than 1k steps for the day). We headed to Delores Park and caught up on life. The view was pretty neat. And before we knew it, we were being kicked out of the park (apparently they close, who knew?)

By the time we got home, I'd clocked over 11k steps for the day. Which made me feel pretty good, seeing as I hadn't anticipated working out at all. That's definitely a huge plus to San Francisco, though. The walking. Mostly uphill. Exhausted, I promptly passed out, chord progressions starting to swirl through my head. 

Though the next few days aren't entirely planned out, I look forward to sharing whatever comes up. And making new goals. And writing new songs. Thank you for being part of this adventure. And as always, let's keep doing this.

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!