Just a Little Bit Obsessive/Compulsive

I was out on the 574 tonight, cutting the hay in the Back Eight with the Bush Hog and I got to thinking.  (Yes, I actually do cogitate now and then...surprise, surprise.)   Nothing like sitting on a tractor going back and forth in a field for a few hours to get your mind to wandering.  

When was the last time I wrote a blog post?

Oh, my.   It's been weeks and weeks since I last wrote a word, which also includes personal emails. I looked at my inbox  and was stunned to see I had over 200+ emails piled up.  Wow.  Luckily most of them were spam, though there were a few from good friends that I still have to get back to. Time is just zipping on by and I'm being yanked along with it in all sorts of directions. Since starting my exercise routine and trying to get more sleep, my time is cut shorter than ever.  I use to be a diehard night owl, but have since reformed quite a bit.  (Probably not tonight, though, since I didn't start writing this til midnight.)
We've had our fair share of garden walks and tour groups this summer and many, many impromptu, drop-in visitors, just like any other year.  And as usual, we spent a lot of time primping and preening the garden to get it up to standards.  Luckily, we were blessed and had some nice, gentle rainfall this month which has greened everything up beautifully.  We even hosted an 'almost surprise' birthday party for a friend of ours in July, but she figured it out. Still, it was fun, and we've used the tent several more times, too.  Lots of good friends have visited this year, and we enjoyed seeing them all.

And before you ask, the answer is No, Castle Aaargh is STILL not done.  I know, I know, why not?

We just hauled some bagged cement home on Monday night, so here we go again for the year.  Gentleman, start your Mortar Mixers, it's time to mix some mud.  I still say I should have realized how much work the silly thing was going to be.  Oh, well.  Live and Learn.

That's where the OCD thing rears it's head.  I'm not sure why, but I have a tendency to go overboard on projects or hobbies.  I'm not sure if losing weight is a 'hobby' per se, but it sure as heck has been a big project, ha, and the work in that direction goes on.  I'm down forty pounds since the first of the year which sounds like a lot, but since I need to lose at least that much more, well, it's not time to cheer just yet.  Let's just say if I stand sideways, you'll still see me, I won't disappear like a sheet of paper. "Now you see me, now you don't....." er, never mind, you can still see me no matter which way I turn. 

The weird part is I've never lost weight before, never even tried to, even though I obviously should have.  My weight was just another one of those subtle things in life that snuck up on me; 'up' being the operative word.  Isn't there a poem, 'Fog comes on little cat feet'?  Well, poundage comes on just as stealthily, too, right along with the Big M. 

Menopause. 

Too bad there isn't a time in a woman's life cycle called Weightopause.

I mean, really, we endure puberty and all those bizarre changes (I remember my first week with a bra, you mean I have to wear one of these for the Rest of My Life?!) gads, what a harness! And they call it a Playtex?  Any garment with 'Play' in the name should be fun, right?  Not sure what the 'tex' part is referring to, but now that I've done graduated to the 18 Hour version, I'll be the first to tell you, there ain't nothing all that comfortable about a Comfort Strap.  And don't get me started on Sports Bras.  Whoo doggies....they are aptly named; it's a sport in itself just crawling in and out of those contraptions. 

Playing Catch-up here with old pictures from July.....Lily season came and went.

 

 

 Then after puberty comes a whole bunch of other silliness and mood swings and for many women, the childbearing years.  What was once a nice, taut tummy suddenly resembles something out of a science fiction horror flick and you and your bathroom become inseparable.  Aching feet, aching back and then presto/chango, you're now a Mom.  (Ah, if it was only that easy.)  No more sleep, you don't know what you're doing, you feel like a zombie the first month or two but then, all of a sudden, you hit your stride.  And despite all your best efforts, they survive your clumsy parenting attempts and they begin to grow up.  And one night you look in the mirror and see a few gray hairs and gasp, wrinkles?  Can't be. Must be a smudge on the mirror.

 Before you know it, your bundle of joy is in kindergarten, grade school, middle school, high school and then you find yourself sitting on the bleachers trying not to bawl as they walk across the stage and get their diploma.  More school to come...suddenly somewhere in the teenage years you aren't as smart as you (and they) once thought you were and the roles are reversed.  You go to them for help with stuff like computers and new gadgets and they sigh (just like you did when you taught them to tie their shoes for the zillionth time) and walk you through the set up of your new toy.

And then they move out. 

And you're back to where you started.  And those wrinkles and gray hair you first saw a decade ago are now definitely there to stay.  Along with that tummy that never really got taut again. 

And then I found myself standing bent over crooked under my son's suspended kayak on a freight scale in our garage on a frigid night last December, weighing frozen hamburger packages for the heck of it and wondered why the scale wouldn't go back down to the number I clearly recalled weighing the last time I checked.  (In 1993.)  There's gotta be something wrong with the silly thing...surely there's a  whole box of frozen meat on the scale with me...what?  There isn't?  Give me a flashlight, I want to read this number.  What?  You've gotta be kidding.  Wowzers.  Houston, we have a problem.

Cue the Obsession.  Here we go.


While we were battling the drought and extreme heat of July with hoses and air conditioning, I was also still marching on with Leslie every morning in my never-ending walk, walk, walk.  Obsessive?  You betcha.  An hour a day with Ms. Sansone for eight and a half months and I still look forward to it.  What is up with that? 

My mother asked me, "Do you have to exercise for the rest of your life?" 

I said, "I guess so, come to think of it, I really haven't given it much thought.  I just like it, is all."

"You like exercise?"

"Yeah, I think I might be addicted."

"Oh, no....is that a bad thing?  Can't you stop?"

 "Sure I can stop, I just don't want to." 

Hmmm.....the old flower bed in the Formal Garden looks sort of like a track.......
 

 I wonder how many laps would make a mile?  How many rocks and how big do they have to be before I could be considered 'lifting heavy'? 

I'm on weight loss Plateau now, and it's a lonely place.  All loss has come to a screeching halt for several weeks.  Oh, goody.  So now what?  Pass the chocolate bon bons or punt?  I've spent oodles of time on weight loss websites, punching my numbers into online calculators trying to figure out what my caloric intake levels should be vs. my exercise output, BMI, BMR, TDEE, RMR, the acronyms and the advice all vary according to the sites and if I thought at one time that gardening and all the Latin names of plants was confusing, well, now I'm Really Confused. 

In the Realm of Fitness and Dieting there are more opinions on what to do than you can shake a stick at.  Which ones are right?  Do I set my Activity Level to Sedentary and log all my exercise activities, or set it to Very Active and forgeddabout logging exercise?  Do I eat back my exercise calories?  Some of them?  Or all of them?  Or none of them?  Who knows. 

Consistency is key.  Try something for awhile and see what happens.  If that doesn't work, back to the drawing board and try something else. Should I Eat More To Weigh Less or Eat Less and Move A Whole LOT More?  Turns out, eating too little is just as bad as eating too much, in fact, it's worse.  Who knew?  I'm experimenting with upping calories a little and so far, no gain, so that tells me something.  You have to eat, and 1200 calories a day or less is NUTS. (Not that I ever ate that little.  C'mon this is ME we're talking about!)   Especially for active people, as all of us gardeners are.  And yes, I keep a Food Diary, full of scintillating details like how many calories are in that cup of yogurt.  Yogurt, ha, I eat yogurt now.  Oh, my. 

And everyone has an opinion on exercise.  Cardio is King!  Boo, hiss, Cardio is BAD!  Weight lifting is Best!  Lift HEAVY!  Lose weight.  Lose inches.  

Lose your mind.

The most helpful advice I read online was:  The best exercise for weight loss is:  

The One You'll Do.  

 Not the one you'll think about doing, or the one you'll do once and then after you're out of traction, never, ever try again. The best exercise is one you'll commit to and enjoy.  Do I want to become rail thin?  Nope.  I just want to be fit.  ('Just'--- as if that's so easy.)

I've come to think of this weighty journey as akin to gardening, really.  After all, I know gardening is an obsession of ours and I suspect, of all my garden blogging friends, too.  Why else would we all spend so much time and money in all kinds of weather along with blood, sweat and tears on trying to coax plants to grow?  How about all those endless trips to nurseries and greenhouses and garden walks?  Yes, I believe most serious gardeners have a form of OCD. 

We're always trying to fix things, try new plants, and battle the elements.  Hey, it's like farming, we have to take what we get and work with it.

 So, if any of my followers are still reading me after this hiatus, I'm so grateful.  I can't tell you how many times I think of you all and I've bopped in and read many of your blog posts, but just haven't had the time to comment consistently.  My computer is aging rapidly and very cantankerous and both of my sons are giving me advice on what to look for and buy (here we go again with Confusion) so, hopefully, Soon I will have a new computer and those problems will be a thing of the past.  Hey, I can hope, right?

Ernie the Urn says Hi

Oh, boy, it's late again and I have to lead two exercise classes tomorrow morning....yes, you read it right, life leads us down some really strange paths sometimes; I'm substituting this week for our regular exercise class leader.  Me.  The woman who weighs herself on a freight scale under a kayak.  Wow.  Wonders never cease, do they?  No, I wasn't selected to lead the class because of my ultra-athleticism or my svelte figure.  Nope.  

My claim to fame is:

I know how to run the DVD player.

Kinda.