The First Step, part two

"If I keep putting off doing the work, then it will always remain a dream, instead of that thing I screwed up."

Wise words from Ted Moseby of "How I Met Your Mother". He's talking about starting his own architectural firm, but I think it applies perfectly to many things. I'm so afraid of putting in the work and failing, that I'm petrified to even start.

Last week I went to Disneyland with my husband for our 5th anniversary. We left the kids at home, thank goodness. It was our first vacation since we got married and the first time we were away from kids for more than 12 hours.

While it was great fun, it was also kind of eye-opening. Within a few hours I could feel the stress in my back and in my feet. By hour 8 I was begging my husband to find places to sit down. I squished myself into the Indiana Jones ride even though my hips didn't fit, but luckily my feet hurt more than my hips so I didn't notice my bruised hips for too long at all. And when we hurried across the park at 11:30 pm to try to make the Matterhorn one last time (it was closed because of rain), that 100 yards put my legs into the danger zone.

Three days later and I can finally walk without pain in my legs. Yeah, 100 yards. From the Buzz Lightyear shooting ride to the Matterhorn. Maybe even less than 100 yards. My back is still killing me, but I blame that partially on not being able to sleep in a bed. Any bed.

Yep, for the past year I've been sleeping in a recliner because in a bed I wake in so much pain that I'm nearly crying and immobile for hours. So hotel beds aren't really my friends.

Time to dig my exercise bike out of the office so it can be used. I'll report again on Wednesday...

Biggest Loser

It's really quite an insult to be called a loser, but in this sense, I want to be called that. I really want to be called that.

This morning in SLC there was an open casting call for Biggest Loser season 12. My cousin Erin and I went - got there at 5 am. Finally got to see the casting directors about 8:45, and by 9 am we were driving home. We spent 7 minutes talking with 12 other hopefuls and the casting girls (seriously, there were like 12 years old).

And since it's past 8 pm, I know I didn't get a callback. Darn.

On the one hand I'm seriously disappointed. I mean, I would love to have someone push me hard and make that my only focus for a time. I think I could easily lose 175 pounds with the right kind of push. That's half my freaking body weight!

On the other hand, I'm kind of glad. See, if I got accepted and went away to "fat camp" I'd be away from my beloved children for up to 3 1/2 months. That would suck something fierce. Just thinking of video chatting with my kids while being gone made me cry this morning. It would just about kill them (not to mention how hard it would be on my dear husband) to have me gone. Heck, in 2 weeks Brent and I are going away for 3 days for our anniversary and that's already killing me. I haven't even gone and I'm already counting down the time till I get home.

Anyway, I didn't get in. They said to send in a video submission. That'll be due in 2 weeks, but I'm not sure I want to apply. I should just get my butt into gear and do the work. I should just apply all the tricks I've learned.

What a concept, eh?

I think I need to start by getting a scale and a full-length mirror. It's time to stop avoiding...

Babies and Fat

A year ago I was just starting to deal with the cravings and morning sickness of pregnancy. I knew I'd be gaining weight and I think I allowed myself carte blanche to do eat whatever I wanted. I think I figured I could lose the weight after by going back on my plan once the pregnancy was over.

My baby is now 6 months old. After I lost about 30 of my baby pounds, I think I gained it all back. My fat clothes are tight and I'm running out of places to purchase new sizes. We're talking about being too fat for Walmart. Now that's depressing!

I have a recumbent exercise bike in my office. When we had the flood around Christmas we started moving everything out of the living room in anticipation of tearing apart the room, and the bike got covered. More than 2 months later and I can see the bike but I can't really get to it.

In the past 6 months since I had my baby, I've done lots of physically-demanding projects. But mostly I just sit around trying to stay awake. I'm so exhausted all the time that I often suffer from really bad headaches (it's a miracle that I haven't had more migraines). And I crave carbs. I long for that quick energy that comes with those sugars. And for the most part, I indulge.

My husband keeps asking what he can do to help me lose weight, but then he makes cheese sauce for broccoli and encourages the purchase of beef jerky in bulk. He walks to the library almost every day for work and considers himself exercised. I clean the sty of a house (with help from a neighbor girl that I adore) and chase after children and sleep poorly. It's been almost a year that I've been sleeping in my recliner. I'm in so much pain if I try to lay down anywhere else that it brings me to tears.

This fat has got to stop. And it has to stop now.

Confession time. I need an excuse to put out the effort again. I can't afford the program again but I really do need someone pushing me. This Saturday I'm going to go to the open casting call for Biggest Loser with one of my cousins. I'm terrified. Mostly I'm terrified of not making it. I hate what I've done to my body and I hate myself for being weak. I have absolutely no desire to be on TV, but I wanna do some kind of a fat camp. I want to be pushed. And I want to work on it exclusively. I just know I would rock.

Please keep me in your prayers. I need this.