Last week the kiddo started karate. As a full member at the YMCA, the class is free, and since I listened to him ask to try kick boxing all summer long as we drove by the local dojo I figured I'd start him in karate and see where it went from there. The Sensei has been instructing for some 38 years or so, and is tough. During the first lesson he opened the class to the parents saying "it will help your children to learn what they are learning... and it might do you good too." So, this week, I took him up on the offer.
Tuesday I went prepared to do some karate. What I was not prepared for was feeling like a total klutz. I mean how hard could jabbing and jumping and kicking be? Let me tell you. It's hard! Really hard. This takes complete concentration, focus, and coordination. Any little distraction, and it's all over. No wonder he's so adament about "no talking". We stretched, and did I ever find out what muscles I haven't used in forever. We punched. We blocked. We kicked. We did them all together. And I had a blast.
And today, with muscles still aching from Tuesday, I did it all again.
It's a great workout, and one I get to share with my son. Finally I've found something that makes me happy, makes me feel good, and is good for me. And I'm sticking to it.
April 5, 2007
March 11, 2007
Ouch! I Fell Off the Wagon
This weekend has been awful. Not in the sense that anything really bad has been happening. It's basically just been like any other weekend. Except for it's the first weekend since trying to take better care of myself that I've had the kid at home with me too. Not sure that really has anything to do with it, but maybe it does.
Friday night was pretty much uneventful since I was up at the butt crack of dawn Friday morning. I pushed myself to stay awake until around 11:30pm in hopes that I'd actually sleep past 5am. It worked. I was up at 6:15am instead. {sigh}
On Saturday we did the semi-usual routine around here. Straightened up, did some laundry (only one load since the dryer is out and I had to borrow the neighbor's), then hit Costco and Walmart to stock up for the month. We goofed around the rest of the afternoon and evening, but by the time I put the kiddo to bed I was bouncing off the walls. Literally. All I wanted to do was jump in the car, crank up the tunes to ear deafening levels and drive............. FAST. That obviously wasn't an option with the little man upstairs sleeping, so I tried goofing off on the computer a bit. Ran into Groove online and spewed my craziness for awhile. When I could see it wasn't helping, and fearing I'd ruin his evening if I kept whining, I said g'nite and plopped in front of the TV.
Something he said, though, kept resonating within. Self loathing? I didn't feel like I was trapped like that last night, though I'm the first to admit I do suffer from that more often than I care to admit. It was more of a trapped feeling. Like I couldn't shut off my brain, wanted to get out of the house, and basically felt like a caged animal. Not a good feeling. I tried having a few drinks, and even tried taking a hot shower. Didn't help. So what did I end up doing? Stuffing Ding Dong's down my throat... at 10:30pm... then going to bed. Great!!
To top it off I haven't exercised all weekend, have been really bad about my water intake, ate the wrong foods, and suffered a minor migraine yesterday. Only one thing seems to sate me anymore. Not talking on the phone. Not being on the computer. Not watching TV. Not hanging out with the kid. Not drinking. Not smoking. Just eating.
I know it's not hunger, it's boredom and restlessness and frustration all rolled into one. Like I told Groove I feel like I'm borderline ADD. No amount of stimulation seems to be enough. I look for outlets like reading, cleaning, video games, puzzles, but none of them helps either. So I go day to day, from one thing to the other, without any sense of accomplishment, fulfillment, or excitement and end up turning to the one thing that's always been my fall back. Food.
I didn't even want to sit and write last night. But I've spent the majority of the day thinking about it, prepping myself to fall into the same trap tonight even though the bruises from last night haven't healed.
Friday night was pretty much uneventful since I was up at the butt crack of dawn Friday morning. I pushed myself to stay awake until around 11:30pm in hopes that I'd actually sleep past 5am. It worked. I was up at 6:15am instead. {sigh}
On Saturday we did the semi-usual routine around here. Straightened up, did some laundry (only one load since the dryer is out and I had to borrow the neighbor's), then hit Costco and Walmart to stock up for the month. We goofed around the rest of the afternoon and evening, but by the time I put the kiddo to bed I was bouncing off the walls. Literally. All I wanted to do was jump in the car, crank up the tunes to ear deafening levels and drive............. FAST. That obviously wasn't an option with the little man upstairs sleeping, so I tried goofing off on the computer a bit. Ran into Groove online and spewed my craziness for awhile. When I could see it wasn't helping, and fearing I'd ruin his evening if I kept whining, I said g'nite and plopped in front of the TV.
Something he said, though, kept resonating within. Self loathing? I didn't feel like I was trapped like that last night, though I'm the first to admit I do suffer from that more often than I care to admit. It was more of a trapped feeling. Like I couldn't shut off my brain, wanted to get out of the house, and basically felt like a caged animal. Not a good feeling. I tried having a few drinks, and even tried taking a hot shower. Didn't help. So what did I end up doing? Stuffing Ding Dong's down my throat... at 10:30pm... then going to bed. Great!!
To top it off I haven't exercised all weekend, have been really bad about my water intake, ate the wrong foods, and suffered a minor migraine yesterday. Only one thing seems to sate me anymore. Not talking on the phone. Not being on the computer. Not watching TV. Not hanging out with the kid. Not drinking. Not smoking. Just eating.
I know it's not hunger, it's boredom and restlessness and frustration all rolled into one. Like I told Groove I feel like I'm borderline ADD. No amount of stimulation seems to be enough. I look for outlets like reading, cleaning, video games, puzzles, but none of them helps either. So I go day to day, from one thing to the other, without any sense of accomplishment, fulfillment, or excitement and end up turning to the one thing that's always been my fall back. Food.
I didn't even want to sit and write last night. But I've spent the majority of the day thinking about it, prepping myself to fall into the same trap tonight even though the bruises from last night haven't healed.
March 9, 2007
It Was One of Those Nights
Do you ever feel like someone else is at the master controls of your life, sitting behind the curtain flipping switches without warning and laughing hysterically to themselves at your actions? That's what life's like being an emotional eater. And let me tell you something. It pretty much sucks!
Last night was one of those nights for me. Day two on this week's emotional rollercoaster of life. And I plunged to the bottom. Then crashed. Literally.
The past two days have been full of extreme highs (finally moving my arse, getting a new computer & finding "forgotten money" on-line) and lows (being yelled at by my mother & hung up on by the ex). And in between there's been laughter, anger, tears, and apathy. Emotions I've grown used to over the years but somehow still can't seem to balance. They mess with my mind. Disrupt my sleep pattern. And worst of all, send me into an unconscious eating frenzy.
I didn't eat dinner with my son last night because he was out to dinner with his dad. Apparently this was enough of an excuse to my pitiful lack of self control to wait until after he went to bed to finally eat. I was good. A well balanced, portion controlled dinner. Shortly after, the sinking feeling I get when I've eaten too late, and when I'm tired. Emotionally tired. I rummaged through the pantry looking for anything to sate myself. Numb myself, maybe.
It wasn't until I was a third of the way through the bag that I realized what I was doing, but by then it was too late. The damage was done. I was tired. Physically, emotionally and mentally. I was sick. Sick to my stomach - not only for having eaten too much, but for losing what little control I seem to have over my choices.
And I crashed.
I'm disgusted.
Last night was one of those nights for me. Day two on this week's emotional rollercoaster of life. And I plunged to the bottom. Then crashed. Literally.
The past two days have been full of extreme highs (finally moving my arse, getting a new computer & finding "forgotten money" on-line) and lows (being yelled at by my mother & hung up on by the ex). And in between there's been laughter, anger, tears, and apathy. Emotions I've grown used to over the years but somehow still can't seem to balance. They mess with my mind. Disrupt my sleep pattern. And worst of all, send me into an unconscious eating frenzy.
I didn't eat dinner with my son last night because he was out to dinner with his dad. Apparently this was enough of an excuse to my pitiful lack of self control to wait until after he went to bed to finally eat. I was good. A well balanced, portion controlled dinner. Shortly after, the sinking feeling I get when I've eaten too late, and when I'm tired. Emotionally tired. I rummaged through the pantry looking for anything to sate myself. Numb myself, maybe.
It wasn't until I was a third of the way through the bag that I realized what I was doing, but by then it was too late. The damage was done. I was tired. Physically, emotionally and mentally. I was sick. Sick to my stomach - not only for having eaten too much, but for losing what little control I seem to have over my choices.
And I crashed.
I'm disgusted.
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