Monday, March 31, 2014

Bathroom remodel update!

Subtitle: This is why other people are paid the big bucks.

After much ado, the bathroom is DONE (ish... just needs all the paint edges cleaned up and a tile issue fixed and the mirror hung and... ok so it's not done). It is functional! We even bought a nice new trashcan for it! I'm living the dream.

No, I couldn't be bothered to fix the towel before I took the picture.

Tiny bathroom + huge cabinet = <3

I haven't provided many updates on this because we've taken it slow and not so steady. Nick (with help from my dad!) did an amazing job laying the tile. It is lovely and bright and I would never do it again. Never ever. I say "I" because although Nick did all the work, I did lots of fretting. I was super worried the whole time it was going down because, ugh, white tile laid on dark mastic looks really awful until the grout is put in. I was worried it would look grimy forever. Then we took a little break.

The rest of the work was also Nick-heavy and I am so thankful for my handy husband. I did a lot of the painting, but he really did the rest. He's the best. My mom bought us a very cute shower curtain, rug, and towel set that go nicely with the walls. With such a small room and those dark walls, it would be easy to feel small, but the bright floor and light accessories brighten it up. We still need to hang the mirror. We scavenged the door off a medicine cabinet because all the other standard mirrors were way too big. We needed something about 16" wide to fit in the space next to the cabinet. I was torn between using the  big cabinet but needing a small mirror, versus using a larger medicine cabinet but not having the big cabinet. The room needs more storage than just a medicine cabinet can provide, so we went with the big cabinet. Cabinet cabinet cabinet. That word loses meaning when you type it too many times.

I'm still looking for more accessory type stuff, like an oil diffuser. Preferably in the bright yellow accent color. And something to hang on the walls. I remember a friend's house that had a picture of the owners, smiling happily, in their bathroom. They gazed pleasantly at you while you were using the bathroom. I think we just might be creepy enough to do that. 

Friday, March 28, 2014

I am the luckiest.

Subtitle: read the poem at the bottom. Because it's deep and meaningful and it inspired me. I am feeling touchy-feely enough lately to actually be inspired. Deal with it.

My posts lately are basically a bunch of whining, I know this. I like to whine and then follow up with some snark because it diffuses all the feelings I'm feeling. It's my version of breaking the tension. And it also gives me a chance to pop my head out from all the whining and wink, like "hey, I'm complaining but I don't mean it! Life is peachy"

But it's not. 

But is also is. And I keep losing sight of that. I can spiral down (or rabbit hole, as Nick and I call it) from normal gripes about day-to-day life to how I am a failure as a person very, very quickly. Example: I'm tired because I didn't sleep well because I'm worrying and worrying is stress and stress will negatively effect my hormones so stop worrying or else you'll never have a baby. I'm not exaggerating even a little bit. But when I do this, I lose all my chances to reflect on the positives in my life. So I want to truly think about those.

I have a husband who is wonderful and we get to celebrate our anniversary soon! 

I have a puppy who thinks I'm the best thing that's ever happened to her every day when I come home from work.

I have a house that, while it has its issues, is still a house. And it houses me, Nick, and Kiwi perfectly.

I have the resources to feed myself more so I can GAIN weight to eventually have a child I am choosing to have. This decision is based off of bloodwork and diagnoses from doctors that I don't pay very much to see because I have a job with excellent health insurance.

And a now, because I'm not random and out-of-character enough today, here's a poem:

The Peace of Wild Things

BY WENDELL BERRY
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. (source)

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Bad habits

At the beginning of 2012, I tried to do a cute little "goal a week" deal, where I set mini-goals in order to break bad habits. I totally lost sight of that, which is probably good. Although it was well intentioned, my actual bad habits are way worse than "eats too much work candy." Let's discuss.

I make faces at people if they're rude to me.
Example: Person A is approaching me in the hallway at work. We make eye contact, I smile, nod, and sometimes say "hi." Person A ignores me. When he passes me, I make a really terrible face.
Holy wrinkles. Holy chin. Holy... wow I really learned a lot about myself by taking this picture.

Which, whatever, I'm rude, that's the least of my problems. The issue is when I've been focusing on Person A, and I should have noticed that he has Person B behind him. And I've just contorted my face at that person. I also make this face when someone doesn't hold the door for me, or fails to say thank you if I hold the door for him. I am amazed the muscles I use to make this face aren't all bulgey, because I do it all the time.

I still haven't met a bag of chips I won't eat in one sitting.
Potato. Tortilla. Gluten-free lentil. I will eat them all. I really don't know why the self-control break down happens specifically around chip-type things. I mean, I also have problems with ice cream, even faux ice cream, but I am able to engage my frontal lobe in some higher order decision-making and stop myself from killing a whole container in one sitting. With chips? All bets are off.

If someone is trying to talk to me in the bathroom, I am unable to pee.
I guess this isn't a bad habit. Hell, it's not even something I want to change about myself because WHY is someone even trying to talk to me in the bathroom? The worst is the extended talk.. when I'm done, and the other person isn't, and yet we're still conversing for some reason while my mind gets a chance to imagine why she's taking so long to fasten her pants. Long shirt? Complicated underwear? Tight pants? JUST LET ME LEAVE THE BATHROOM.

I'm judgey.
As if you hadn't already figured that out by my previous bullets. The thing is, I will judge someone, then feel bad about it, then come up with some justification for why they're doing what they're doing (She has her finger halfway up her nose because she has a cold! He loves Nickelback because he has literally never heard another band in his life.) then continue judging anyways. This is something I actually want to change about myself because 1) it's not nice and 2) it's incredibly tiring. Going around thinking mean things about people (see my first point, about the face-making) is not a fun way to live. Trying to go through life without a hidden set of criteria that the people around me are constantly not meeting sounds like a better way to spend my days. I think I'll try that.

Are you a terrible person too? Cool, let's be friends. At least we'll go into the friendship knowing we're both awful people. And then I'll eat all your chips.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

New Normal

I think I've found my niche- I'll be that blogger that used to run and now just complains about how much weight she's gaining.

Plus I'll post pictures of my dog.
Kiwi has an abundance of neck skin. It can all be smushed up on her face. I swear we're not hurting her, she does this by choice. 

That's really all I've got right now.

I don't want to be all dramatic about it, but this is my blog, where I get to be dramatic, so here I go. I think a big part of why this whole thing is hard is that not only am I giving up control of things I used to control so precisely ("I will eat exactly the number of calories I have allotted today," "I will run exactly 30 miles this week"), but I am also redefining myself. Running is used to be me. It was what I did with my free time. It was my favorite topic of conversation.  I liked to bring it up casually in groups, mention how hungry I was because I'd just run 8 miles, or that I wasn't drinking at happy hour because I needed to run when I got home. It made me feel special. Now that I can't talk about it... I'm at a loss. Also, I realize that maybe I was a big ol' jerk who just talked about running all the time. Ugh.
Here's a kitten drowning in marshmallows. It's a metaphor for my life!

I think I need a new hobby. Or I just need to clean the house more. That seems like the better option. 

I haven't really told most of my coworkers about the whole not running thing, because so far few of them have asked me directly (they're just happy I'm not telling them about how my hammies are tight after my 800 repeats). The couple who did, I told them nope, not running anymore, but didn't tell them why (I need to be fatter to someday carry a baby! LET ME SHARE MORE ABOUT MY REPRODUCTION WITH YOU, casual acquaintance!). When one responded with "oh yeah, so hard to keep up running when the weather is bad!" Sure. That's it! But it's gotta come out at some point, right? I don't know, part of me wants to wear a shirt saying "I'm not running anymore, not one bit, please don't ask me why" and the other part wants to keep playing this part of the "healthy coworker." One mentioned the other day about how I was awesome because I run marathons. Make that "ran," sir, I'm a used to runner. That was the old me. Now I'm just a fattie who fats.

And there, in my ramblings, I reveal the other part of what's bothering me. I'm actively being unhealthy. I ate salad, soup, a muffin, ice cream and THEN spoonfuls of Nutella last night. Because one dessert isn't enough for me, I need 2! I know deep inside I'm doing this for a good reason, and I know I won't immediately become overweight overnight, but I'm just having trouble with all of it. My new normal is having fries, not substituting a salad. It's saying not just "yes," but "oh hell yes" to the candy dish. It's patting myself on the back for NOT exercising. This is messing with my mind. Every day. And I need to get used to it. But I don't want to.

/enddrama

Also, I've gotten some new readers lately (HI!). Please comment! 

Are you a runner? If so, please tell me about it so I can envy and live vicariously through you! 

Are you not a runner? Tell me what I'm supposed to do with my time. 

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

I miss running.

I only know my own experience, but when I was running compulsively, I mostly only enjoyed the fact that I was burning calories. I always felt great after a run, but I had little to no motivation to get out there aside from balancing out what I had eaten that day.

Note: The more I write, the more I realize just how screwed up I was/am. This break is so, so hard but it's at least making me much more aware of my thought processes.

When I was training with a goal in mind (BQ or bust... riiight...) I had more motivation and enjoyed myself most days, but I was still at least 50% doing it for the calorie burn.

The first few weeks not running I longed for a sweaty workout, but mostly because I felt bloated and uncomfortable and thought working out would fix that. Now that I'm not exercising at all I find myself missing the endorphins, yes, and I miss the feeling of being spent after a long run, but the past few days I've noticed myself truly missing running itself. I miss how comfortable running shoes are. I miss how comfortable sports bras are. I miss listening to This American Life each week on my long run, then coming home to tell Nick about it. I miss being outside and wearing shorts (maybe I'm just ready for Spring?). I miss moving my legs and feeling winded and zoning out and rhythmic breathing and running downhill and feeling like everything is right in the world... then running uphill and having to dig deep to push myself. I want those feelings back, not just the calorie burn.

Ok, maybe I want the calorie burn still. But less now, I swear.

When I sprint around the yard with Kiwi (so cute!), it is the highlight of my day. Seeing her run and being with her reminds me that running is supposed to be fun and feel good, not be a penance for eating. It's going to make me sad if she gets to the age where she can go on runs and I won't be the one to take her. Hopefully my body is in a better place by then.

Another concern I have when I look to my future with running is the "extra" weight I'll be carrying. I attributed a lot of my increased speed this year to being lighter. I'm not 100% sure that's true, but being thinner is definitely gentler on the joints and just generally easier. What if I can never be that fast again? Or will I run faster if I'm fueling properly? I know I shouldn't even be getting ahead of myself to worry about speed, and I know I'll be basically starting from scratch when (if?) I do get back to running, but I still worry that I will never, ever BQ now. Or that I'll never be able to run another marathon at all. What if my body, hormonally, just can't handle distance running? This all seems so terribly unfair. A blogger I follow (Hungry Runner Girl) talked openly about the Female Athlete Triad and how she experienced amenorrhea when running too much and eating too little. She also had injuries that made her cut back a lot on her running. She has since been able to recover, have an adorable baby, and run crazy fast.  She's pretty much my hero. She gives me hope that someday I'll be able to get back to running for enjoyment and to reach a goal instead of for my screwed up reasons. 

Sunday, March 16, 2014

A post in which I don't whine

I haven't written in 2 weeks because I'm adhering to the "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" concept. I'm still in a funk. However, in an attempt to not be in a negative mindset all the time, here are some actual plus sides to all this not running/eating all the things/gaining weight I've been doing lately.

- More time: I'm currently working 5 or 6 days a week, 12+ hours a day (it's the most wonderful time of the year at my workplace). If I wanted to run, I would be hard pressed to find time to do it most days. My days consist of work, dinner, prepping for the next day, and sleeping. Running for an hour each day would mean I had zero quality time with Nick and Kiwi. Boo. No running = more time with my family. 

- Less laundry, and better smelling laundry: I don't have 6 workout outfits to wash each week. This means my load total was reduced from 4 (clothes) loads to 3. That's a 25% reduction, and I like it. Also, I don't have to worry about whether my shorts dried out before they got tossed in with other clothes and made the other clothing reek of sweat.

- Open schedule: This goes along with having more time. I used to fret about when I would get my workout in. Even on a weekend, my stupid anxiety would kick in as I did complicated calculations about how long it would take me to get dressed, run, and shower, and how to fit that into my day. That's just stupid. Not that there isn't a time and place for prioritizing working out, particularly when I had a time goal in mind, but when I was just running for fun? Shouldn't have been that stressed about it. Now, I wake up, and the day is mine (aside from that 12 hours of work thing...)

- Not suddenly being I'msohungryIcoulddie: When I was restricting my calories and exercising, I would go very quickly from comfortable, maybe a little hungry to full on starving. I was almost always a little hungry, and usually once or twice a day I'd suddenly dip into the danger zone and get lightheaded and incredibly cranky. It was so bad, my coworkers would comment about making sure I got a chance to eat if it had been too long. Since I'm eating more, and more frequently, that has been happening less. It's pleasant.

- More energy: this one is a mixed bag, sort of. In the mornings, when I climbed the 2 flights of stairs to my desk, I often felt fatigued. I always thought that was a good thing because it meant my workouts were effective. Now, I realize I don't need to feel fatigued. On the other hand, I'm getting ridiculously out of shape and climbing those stairs makes me out of breath. Ugh. At least my legs aren't tired.

That's all I've got. And now for the cutest dog ever:


Saturday, March 1, 2014

Dwelling

I'm in kind of a spiral right now. First of all, Snooki is pregnant, for the second time. I know it's the stupidest of stupid things and I should immediately stop caring about it, but are you kidding me, universe?!? SHE gets to have 2 babies and I get zero? I graduated from college. I do actual work for money. I have not, nor will I ever, create a perfume called "Naughty." This is seriously upsetting.

Plus a coworker (TOTALLY JOKINGLY) said that I should stop getting so fat after a button popped off my coat. Oh and my pants don't fit, even my former "fat pants." Oh and another one of my Facebook friends is also knocked up.

Just stop it already.

As you might be able to gather, I am not ok. I'm at my "goal" weight (yippee?) but my body's still not working. It might be months and months before anything happens. In the meantime, all I can do is sit here and outgrow all of my clothing and be filled with self-loathing. Not having control over this situation is filling me with anxiety all the time. I know the saying "fat isn't a feeling" but screw it, I am currently feeling fat. I can't possibly sugar coat it.

Life just isn't fair. I know this, and it's not worth my time to dwell on it. But here I am, dwelling on it. I can't help myself. Some days are better than others. I just have to take it day by day and make it through. Someday, this will all be ok. I keep reminding myself of the big picture. Sometimes it helps a little.

Here's a cute puppy picture. Kiwi's getting bigger by the day, and I don't like it. Although she's still very small and portable, she's not going to be our tiny puppy forever. Sad.