Fitness, Food and New Chapters

If you've stuck around this blog long enough (thank you for those that do stick around, by the way; shit gets downright nutty up in here) you'll know that at any one time I'm usually having some sort of crisis of self in which I'm trying to figure out just what the hell I'm doing in life.  I always feel like I'm just about to latch onto The Answer, the thing that's going to help me get over my depression and anxiety hurdles and allow me to feel like a normal person.

Normality!

I don't have to tell most of you you that it's not really that easy. I'm of the mind that there's really no one answer to help us "deal with our shit" as the kids say; drugs and therapy can and do help, particularly when they're paired together, but ultimately the change has to come from within. This is part of the reason I went off anti-depressants a few years ago--the constant increasing of dosages and shifting of drugs and side effects weren't forcing or even allowing me to deal with either the root causes of my anxiety nor the manifestations. Anti-depressants kept me in a sort of numbed state, no better nor worse than I was before. If I stopped the pills for any period of time the anxiety and depression were waiting just around the corner to attack again.

I personally wasn't really capable of objectively evaluating my life and my anxiety, which is where therapy came in in a big way.  Therapy back in Maine helped me wade through a lot of my own thoughts and feelings and come to some measure of peace, or the closest thing I'd felt to peace in a long time.  I'm continuing the therapy train here and though I've only been to two sessions I'm already starting to feel even more grounded.

Now that I feel like I'm getting closer to feeling normal there are some changes that I really want to make, specifically surrounding my relationship with food and fitness.

Rob finds it interesting that I have almost an emotional relationship with food since he hardly has one at all outside of "get in my fucking mouth." Because of that he's able to eat relatively healthy food with a little bit of gross stuff every now and again.  Me, I love all junk food.  If I didn't have celiac disease I'd probably be eating Burger King for lunch today instead of peanut butter and jelly or leftover gluten-free pizza. That pretty Easter basket I made Rob a few weeks ago? I ate probably 80% of that candy without even realizing I was doing it.  I really want to work on my emotions surrounding food and learn how not to give into every craving my body has for sweet food.*

The second issue I'd like to deal with is how I approach fitness.  My struggles with the gym and with body dysmorphia have been well-documented here, but suffice it to say that my insecurity at the gym led to more hatred of myself, which led to more or less of a "fuck it" mentality when it came to drudging up motivation to work out. Now that I'm reaching my mid-to-late twenties, I've come to the realization that habits like eating healthier and staying fit start now and could be harder to approach as I get older.  I want to be strong and to take care of my body so that it will take care of me into my droopy old age.

Rob and I talked at length about the fitness part of it, since going to the gym was basically not an option because of the anxiety it gave me and the subsequently increased chance of burning out quickly.  He suggested I buy a Jillian Michaels DVD (specifically "Ripped in 30") and start out here at home.  I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that it was like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders--not only did I not have to worry about finding a new gym, I could do an extremely effective workout program at home to help gain confidence and maybe one day go to a gym.  I ordered it online and I should get it by Monday, at which time my friend Justine and I plan on keeping each other accountable (read: guilty, because that's my main motivator) to do the workouts every day, no matter how tired or sore we may be from the day before.

I know this may sound schmaltzy but I'm really excited to start a new phase of my own personal therapy and get my body to a place where I am proud of it (and keep it there).  It's time to get the fuck off my ass, stop staring at the Internet all day and do something physical.  Anyway let's face it, our bodies are far too awesome to not take care of them the best we can.

I'd love to hear any tips from you guys about food issues or fitness.  And if you made it through that jumble of thoughts props to you! It's been a long morning.

*Funny story: when I worked at a hospital right out of college I craved sweet food so often that my coworkers suggested I get tested for diabetes. Luckily I didn't have it but the celiac diagnosis came just a year later.

Caitlin vs. Gym and Exercise

I'm going to go ahead and say it: I get stressed out about going to the gym and, in a broader sense, exercising.

There are several reasons for this.

I think part of my hatred of exercising is the fact that when I am not instantly good at something, I give up on it and throw my hands up in frustration.  I've always been obnoxiously very competitive so I tend to lash out--either at myself or at others--if I'm not succeeding and excelling at whatever I am trying to do, be it exercising or learning a new language.

The other problem I have is that I'm so afraid that if I'm not good at exercising I am ipso facto a weak and certainly lazy person. I also get bogged down in the fear that Rob will fall out of love with me if I don't take care of myself physically, or that he will find someone (like this girl or this girl, both of whom he finds attractive) who shares his love of exercising and will leave me.  Not particularly fair but I guess it goes without saying in my crazy brain.  This cycle of thinking leads me to the inevitable "why bother?" attitude which just makes me even angrier at myself and even less likely to go to the gym or go running.

And the center of the shrubbery maze that is my dysfunction is that I am excellent at absolutely mind-f*cking myself (if you'll pardon the phrase).  I am one of the only people I know who does better mentally while running on a treadmill rather than running outside.  If I am running an actual distance and know how much further I have, I get tired instantly and can convince myself to stop or slow down.  I finally figured out that if I run on the treadmill, blast music at a volume far higher than normal and cover up the amount of time that's gone by I do much better.  How bizarre is that?

You know the other thing that works with me, shockingly enough? Guilt and shame.  Today I was feeling ashamed of myself for wanting an iPhone even though I just got a new phone a year ago (in my defense, the current phone is close to malfunctioning and won't let me download any apps) so I decided as "punishment" I'd force myself to go out into the cold, drive to the gym, and run a 9-minute mile.  I did it (admittedly slowing down for about 5-6 seconds) and I felt proud and sweaty, but I imagine I'll have the same battle to fight tomorrow.

I want to be good at going to the gym, I want to love running.  I want to get healthy so that my body pays me in kind when I get old. There's just some constant mental block that I am having a damn hard time overcoming. I get pissy and frustrated when I can't run more than a mile without feeling like my heart is going to explode, and if I stand in one place too long (like when I am working with free weights) I get bored and annoyed.   Rob, on the other hand, loves the gym and loves exercising.  I think if he couldn't exercise he'd quite literally go insane.  It's his release and how he gets out any nervous or uptight energy.  I get that. I just wish it held true for me.

I guess my hatred of the gym and exercising is (surprise!) an extension of the hatred I have for myself and for my body.  I doubt I'm alone in any of these aspects, but sometimes I sort of wish the hatred would magically transform itself into a never-ending well of motivation to do better, to work out harder, rather than to give up and go home and read blogs.

I'm sorry there isn't much coherence to this post.  This has just been on my mind for awhile--since I bought a very expensive membership to our gym--and I kind of wanted to get it out there. Kudos if you made it through my word vomit!

How do you get motivated to exercise?

Weekend Bits and Pieces

1. First of all, and this is exciting I promise, I got my hair colored on Friday!  It is now a dark, dark brown similar to the color it was on my wedding day.  After it was done one of the sylists at the salon said something like, "wow, I had no idea that such a dark brown would look so good with your pale skin, and it looks more natural than your natural color." Pretty impressive, two insults in a single sentence.

2. On Saturday Robbie and I spent time with his brother and his brother's wife, Jessi (I talked about Jessi in this post).  They live around 50 minutes from us so we spend a fair amount of time with them when we can.  We watched some 30 Rock (duh), had a few drinks and talked about various things.  Rob's brother, Nick, took Cypress for a four-mile walk while we bought food for dinner.  We ended up making one of my favorite meals, "breaded" chicken stuffed with feta, garlic and spinach, paired with asparagus on the side. Lots of butter and oil and damn, it was yummy.

Yeah yeah, I ate most of it before remembering taking a picture. /gluttony

We also saw the movie "Super 8," which I rather liked.  It reminded me of a present-day "Goonies" though with a lot more swearing and carnage.

3. Today I went to lunch with the lovely Justine, my wedding photographer and good friend.  Every time I go to the big city of Portland I have to eat Chipotle.  I don't know about you guys, but I'm at least 87% convinced that food from Chipotle is some sort of delicious gift from the heavens, or at least contains some sort of extremely addictive narcotic. I could eat Chipotle day and night, and twice on Sunday, though only once this Sunday.  Anyway after eating some delicious Chipotle manna I met with an August wedding client.  Their wedding will be my first Jewish wedding as a photographer so I am pretty excited for the new experience (okay and also scared out of my mind that I'll do something wrong, but you know, it all comes with the "excited" package).

4. After all the other funnery from today Justine and I met up for a "Trash" the Dress shoot featuring me in my lovely wedding dress.  Because I love my wedding dress so much, I positively refused to trash it, so basically I just got some awesome pictures of me totally rocking the dress.  Here's a teaser picture!

Courtesy of Justine Johnson Photography

Awesome, right?! Somehow I look half-human in this picture and that, truly, is a feat. Thanks Justine!

5. Look at what I saw on the way home!

To answer your question, yes, I pulled over to take this. I'm not veering off the road in this picture, though that would make a better story.

5. I wanted to tell my Saturday gym story because I think it's hilarious. Saturday was my leg-exercising day but because I'm lazy said leg-exercising didn't include running, just squats, calf exercises, and lunges.  Anyway I was squatting away (ew) when a little 7- or 8-year-old girl came up to me, pointed to my 15-lb weights and asked "are those heavy?" to which I replied, "yes, very heavy," hoping she wouldn't grab one and fall over and break a limb and everyone would blame me.  Anyway this girl ended up chatting with me for a good 20 minutes. Call me subconciously lazy but I was too scared to start working out again because she was doing a lot of leaping and jumping around me and I didn't want to hurt her with freeweights.  Some of the gems from our conversation:

Me: What's your favorite subject in school?
Girl: Gym. I hate school.
Me: I LOVED school. I wish I was in school now.
Girl: Why on earth would you want to be in school?!
Me: Because when you work as an adult you don't get summers off! You have to spend all day inside working!
(way to crush dreams, right? I'm good at that)

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Girl: A waitress. I was a waitress with my grandfather once and I was really good at it.

Girl: Are you married?
Me: Yep, my husband's here at the gym. His name is Rob.
Girl: Oh, is he the guy from Twilight?
Me: Yes, he does have the same name as Robert Pattinson...
Girl: (interrupts) No, is he actually the guy from Twilight?
Me: No, unfortunately, I did not marry Edward from Twilight.*

*Just kidding, I think it is actually quite fortunate that I did not marry Edward. What Bella sees in that pale sparkling douchebag I'll never know.

6. Rob and I are spending our Sunday watching a Nova special about dogs on Netflix. Yes, we're nerds, but let's face it...dogs are awesome.

What did you do this weekend?

Some Letters I've been Meaning to Write III

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Dear Hangover 2,

You were a huge disappointment.  The great thing about the original Hangover was the subtlety of Zach Galifnakis's character. In this movie I felt like his character--and jokes--were being slapped against my head like a fish.

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Dear Mythbusters,

Just...keep doing what you're doing.  Thanks.

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Dear My Brain,

Could we stop with the endlessly dissecting social interaction, both online and off?  You're treating the blog world like you dealt with high school, and high school was miserable. I can't believe I'm actually concerning myself more with what people online or offline say/think/do than, say, how lucky I am, or what a nice day it is.  Priorities, brain, please.

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Dear Body,

I'm far too hard on you, I know that.  But can we start showing some results from 6 months of gym?  I'm starting to get disheartened.

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Dear Birds Outside Our Window,

I understand the whole 'catch the worm' thing, but 4:30 a.m.? Really? Is it bird convention time?  Are you all screaming obscenities to each other, or to me?

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Dear Cypress,

I know that with spring come lots of rotting deliciousness left over from the frozen winter, but every time you roll so indulgently in said rotten deliciousness you get in trouble and get a bath, which you hate. I'm not sure you've heard of this quote, because you're a dog, but Albert Einstein famously said, "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Please find a more civilized and more fulfilling hobby, like stamp collecting or knife throwing.

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Dear Maine,

Thank you for heeding my frequent requests for nicer weather. I am loving the 80 degree days and bright, sunny skies...and even the thunderstorms.  But you can keep the mosquitoes...they were not part of the agreement.

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Dear Old Men in the Gym,

Rob and I are starting to think that your wives and doctors force you to go to the gym, but you don't really want to, and that's why you spend about 80% of the time standing in the main thoroughfare chatting about spruce trees.  I know you punctuate these conversations with a set of 3 5-lb bicep curls, but could you please move to the locker room or, you know, a coffee shop or something?

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Dear Parents at the Gym,

I can understand that with children it's hard to find time to go to the gym, but I really cannot excuse allowing your two-year-old to climb on the machines while you work out on other machines.  There are WEIGHTS and PEOPLE WALKING AROUND. Either bring your kid in the morning when there is free childcare, stay at home and buy some weights, or have your kid stay in the big open area with kids' toys and other funnery.

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Love,

Caitlin

xoxo

My Ongoing Battle with the Gym

Remember in a past post how I talked about my ongoing battle with social anxiety and dysmorphia?

I have found there this no single place where I feel these feelings stronger than in the gym.

It’s really not in the way you’re thinking—I don’t feel inferior to a lot of the girls there or wish my body looked more like theirs. Somehow I’m able to look past that and honestly I’m not sure how.

No, my issue is with looking like a total freaking idiot on those torture machines, or worse, being CORRECTED by one of the many self-righteous men that strut about and grunt.

A little background: for as long as I can remember I’ve been a perfectionist, one of the many reasons why I suck at competitive activity. Rob and I tried to play MarioKart against each other once on our Nintendo DSs and I got so angry when I started to lose that I’d shut mine off, ending our game without his consent. I once screamed at my brother-in-law for stealing one of my answers in a game of SceneIt. Both of these things happened in my 20s. Yep, I’m that cool.

Suffice it to say I live in constant fear of criticism or correction. Truthfully I’ve gotten a lot better about it, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t relive every single second of a social interaction to see what I could’ve said that might’ve offended or made me sound stupid.

Once I started going to the gym I was already at a disadvantage – I’d never actually had a fitness regimen in my life, let alone use gym machines in any sort of correct or effective manner. Complicate this with the fact that my tattoo artist frequents our gym at around the same time we go and this makes for a very awkward Caitlin.

In the beginning Rob would go with me and patiently show me how to use the machines, how to adjust them, how many repetitions to do, etc. It was fine for him to teach me but god forbid he correct me once I started doing the actual exercise—sometimes I’d get so flustered I’d leave to get a drink of water or go to the bathroom to escape my embarrassment.

This seems a lot more ridiculous than I thought now that I’m writing it all out.

Anyway, as the school year started up again Rob and I would go to the gym at different times I had to learn to ignore everyone else and do my thing.

Here’s a little peek into my gym experience: to avoid correction, judgment, correction or critique, I only use machines I absolutely know how to use/adjust, or will learn to use/adjust a machine 100% by sight before using it. It literally took every bit of courage I’ve ever had in my life to start going into the weight room, where the more “serious” people work out, and even now I will only use the free weights (I should say that I carry them all the way into a less-populated area to do my free weight exercises) and the bench press, as well as the rope-pulley thing to work out my triceps.

Rob will describe in detail a new exercise that I should try in the weight room, and my general methodology will be to walk into the weight room, stand around all authoritatively while I figure out in about 10 seconds if I can effectively do the exercise without looking totally awkward and weird, and if I can’t I walk out and eliminate that workout for the day (or find some other less-obvious and easier way to do the same thing).

My other issue on top of my fear of looking like an idiot is socialization in the gym. Rob and I are from a very small area and because we go to the gym at around the same time every day we see the same people, more specifically our tattoo artist. As if it wasn’t hard enough to figure out how to effectively communicate with someone who I only see when I’m getting a tattoo, I have to figure out how, when, and when not to do it in a place where people don’t usually communicate. What I generally do in the response to this stress is avoid eye contact with just about everyone and stare at my feet.

Basically, I feel like an alien who is trying to learn human social rules. I feel like everyone is staring at the lumpy awkward girl in the corner using the dip machine incorrectly.

Good part of this is that my mind gets a workout while I’m exercising my body.

Does anyone else overthink every single action and word? Anyone else have trouble with criticism?