In which it's a beautiful morning

For 40.5 of my 42 years, I have never been a morning person nor, really, an "exercise" person.

So you could imagine how I would fare as a morning exerciser.

However, when I knew it was time to add regular workouts to achieve my weight-loss goals, I realized it had to be in the early morning, before the kids woke up. I tried doing DVDs during my youngest's afternoon nap, but when she crashed, I wanted to, as well. Getting a sweat on was not my first choice. Plus, with the other two kids under foot there was always an interruption.

Zero Dark Thirty it is, then.

I started getting up around 5 am and it took a good two weeks to not feel like hot death around 2 pm. But I realized that once I got in the swing of things and got my bedtime/wake-up time synched with enough sleep, it was doable.

I can't tell you how many times I've pushed myself through a workout with the mental urging: This is the hardest thing you have to do today. Get through this and the rest of the day is easy by comparison. By 7:30 am, the hardest part of your day is done.

I was thinking about this last Thursday during a run. I stepped out of the house at 6:30 am and it was dark. Pitch black, like, middle-of-the-night dark. I stood there for a second wondering why (later I realized we wouldn't turn the clocks back for another 3 days) and then headed back into the house to get my reflective can-see-me-from-Mars jacket and light.

I started out under a full moon, which was spookily darting in and out of thin, wispy clouds. Running my backwoods route, in the pitch black, under a full moon the day after Halloween: half-cool, half expecting a zombie to come at me from the woods.

As cars whizzed past, lit only by headlights, I was grateful for my jacket and light. On a side note, I see a ton of pre-dawn runners out without reflective gear. Seriously? A death wish. At least get a light.

Soon, the dawn started to break, as if someone was slowly turning up a dimmer on the sky. I got to the halfway point of my out-and-back, which that morning was at the crest of a small hill. I paused for a second and looked around, noticing the sun was streaming out over the horizon. The sky was pure blue. The hardy, remaining yellow and orange leaves on the trees seemed to glow as far as I could see.

It was so crazy beautiful, a gift I would never have received had I not become a morning outdoor exerciser. I would never see, nor appreciate, the sunrise over a gorgeous fall morning in Massachusetts. I am not a nature person, never have been. For me, camping is best done in a hotel where there is a comfy bed, no bugs and maybe a minifridge. So to really appreciate and enjoy this is quite the sea change.

So there I was, standing on top of this hill, looking out over a beautiful sunrise, early in the morning and I thought, for the zillionth time in the past almost 2 years: Who have I become?

Yes, I knew I could lose weight. But look what else came with that determination. I became a runner - a half-marathoner. A person who goes to bed early to get up early, go outside and run through the back roads of New England. And actually like it. All of that? Things I never expected but for which I am very grateful.

I feel like working out in the morning outdoors is almost like a secret club. We get our workouts done and sometimes it is the most beautiful setting just for ourselves. Whenever I see another runner or cyclist on the road at the same time, I always want to look at them, like, I know, right?

I'm not saying predawn is the best time to work out because the best time for you to work out is any time you will do it. What I'm trying to say is the beauty of the outdoors and this quiet time with nature is a gift I never expected to receive, but one for which I am very grateful.

The other day I was mentally running through my week while driving. I swear, it's like I have a cable news crawl constantly running at the bottom of my consciousness: Karate today, 4 pm...Daisies tomorrow, 5 pm....interview today, 2 pm...article due tonight....out of Chobani, get to the store...15 PPV left today...

Anyway, one of the things on my crawl was that tomorrow was Thursday and I immediately thought: I get to run. Not I have to run, I get to run. Whoa.

And that is what always amazes me about getting healthy and fit. The gifts you receive reach so far beyond the scale or clock. The unexpected are the sweetest and most cherished.

In which I try Bikram Yoga

Bikram yoga has been on my to-try list for well over a year.

I know people who enjoy it a lot, and the thought of a totally challenging, yet totally different activity from my regular running or bootcamp was appealing.

It seemed rather complementary to my two favorite workouts, and this afternoon I was finally able to finagle my schedule to give it a go.

But, as excited as I was to try, I was a little nervous. I had never tried Bikram before and it was outside of my comfort zone.

I have been running for almost two years and bootcamping for a year and a half. Even though I'll never win a race and I now only occasionally hit myself in the groin with a medicine ball, I do know what I'm doing, and that "I'll Make A Fool of Myself" mortal fear is long gone with both pursuits.

Returning to that slightly nervous area outside my comfy activity playpen was a little disconcerting. But, I remembered that not that long ago I was scared to run outside and I was scared to try bootcamp. And look what happened. I found two activities that I really, truly love, and have given me so much more than improved health and fitness.

Therefore, I shaved my legs, put on a fresh layer of deodorant and headed to the studio this afternoon for the 4 pm class.

I got there early to get a lay of the land: where do I put my shoes? Can I rent a mat? Where's the bathroom? And, most importantly, to ensure I got a spot in the waaaay back of the studio.

I indeed got a spot in the back of the room, which is heated to 100 degrees. I had concerns about how I would handle the heat, as I'm not flocking outside during the summer on such days, but - really - it was a dry heat. I laid down my mat and followed everyone else's lead: flat on my back, quietly relaxing like a lizard on a rock in the Mojave.

I could get used to this.

Soon, the instructor came in and we got down to the poses - 26 in 90 minutes. The instructor stood on a low platform in the middle of the room and, like a DVD commentary, narrated the class through the poses with a series of instructions, form checks, inspiration, reassurance and funny stories.

There were several new students in the class (which had about 24 people at 4 pm on a Saturday, impressive!), thank goodness. The instructor was very encouraging to new students, which I really appreciated, underscoring that we shouldn't try anything that causes pain or try to keep up with veteran practitioners.

Amusingly, I had to keep remind/stop myself from the temptation of Keeping Up With The Flexible Joneses. I'd look at some frighteningly flexible person, battle those natural competitive instincts and think, "OK, this literally is your first day with this. Do what you can and no more."

In prep for the class, I drank 64 oz of water throughout the day, and I had another 32 oz on hand for the class itself. Yes, like everyone else I was sweating like crazy, but the heat was comforting and soothing. My body felt like a lazy pretzel and I liked it.

Some poses I could do, others I had to modify quite a bit. I looked around the room and saw many others - newbies and vets - modifying, too. I saw all sizes and ages - it was no bikini triathlete supermodel class, thank goodness.

At one point, the instructor mentioned two quotes from Bikram Choudhury, creator of this discipline:

"Mess with the gods, don't mess with your knees" and "Kill your body."

The latter sounds pretty severe, but the instructor explain that what he really meant was "Kill your ego." Leave it at the door, come in and listen to your body. I loved that.

Soon, the 90 minutes was up and I was a puddle. I stepped out of the warm, welcoming bosom of the studio and into the changing/waiting area.

At first, the cool air was refreshing, but it soon turned into the realization, "COLD! I AM COLD!" I threw on my sweatshirt (which now has to be washed ASAP) and walked to the car.

As I walked out I took a mental inventory. I felt really, really good. Refreshed, relaxed and loose. The poses were challenging, yet doable, I will try to jam a class into my schedule every week.

The more I thought about it (and sweated), the more I realized how very good it is to be a beginner again - at anything. You're open and excited, and your ego is idling, not in overdrive.

You're learning and doing and trying something new. You may love it, you may not, but the real victory is in the trying; that stepping outside your comfort zone where real true growth occurs.

When I try new things, I'm still hesitant here and there because that fear of embarrassment still lingers. But I try, anyway, and that's a win every time.

When I was overweight (aka, all my life), I rarely tried anything new - especially activity - for fear of embarrassment. When you're overweight, you want to blend in, not stand out.

But now, even though the nerves are still there a little bit, I push through. I know no one else in class is watching me, except for the instructor, who just wants to me to relax and enjoy.

So I did.

In which I run again

Last Wednesday night I got to do something I'd yearned to do for weeks: I plugged in my Garmin.

Unused since Dec. 4 it needed a charge because I had a run in the morning.

I can't accurately express how happy I was to be able to state that: I have a run in the morning.

I last ran on Dec. 29 - last year, for Pete's sake - after a three-week hiatus, courtesy of the whole back thing.

That day I took an easy, 30-minute treadmill run to assess how I felt. I felt great. Oh, God, how I missed running.

Then, about 3 hours later I was stiff as a board and in pain. Back to prescription ibuprofen and Flexerol. A great chiropractor worked out my kinks over a few sessions and I felt good, but he cautioned that the stress of running may put me one step forward, two steps back in terms of my glute problem.

I decided to take the entire month of January off to really give it time to strengthen and rest.

I've been able to resume bootcamp to continue strengthening, and time on the elliptical was a Poor Man's sub for a good run, but it also kept me from medication and pain.

It was so hard to abstain for a month. Given we've had an unusually mild winter, I'd see my running brethren out in force. I'd drive by them, a little jealous and a lot sad. That should be me.

I also really missed what running did for me metabolically: Burned crazy calories. Even a short, 30-minute run was like a calorie-burning furnace. By 7 am I'd be done with my run and face the day with a great sense of personal accomplishment. But, for January, that was on hiatus and I had to make hay elsewhere. I wasn't a fan.

There were clear roads and relatively warm temps. There were miles to run and races to prepare for, and, hell I wanted to get back on with it already.

Finally, the month was over and it was time to try again.

Wednesday night I went through my pre-run ritual. Finding my clothes, my sneakers, my cheap-but-effective hat and gloves. Headphones? Check. Nano? Charged. New playlist? Arranged. Reflective gear: Located. Weather: Clear and cold. Sunrise? 7 am.

Earlier that week I posted a question on Jenny Hadfield's Facebook wall: How do I get back into running without reinjury?

Hadfield is a veteran running coach, author and expert, and her advice was awesome:

Basically, go back to where you started: run 2 minutes, walk 2 minutes and repeat for 20 minutes. Gradually build up your time and slide the ratio until it eventually it's all running.

That made sense. After all, I learned to run with C25K, why not go back to a similar setup to rehab my legs and endurance into running shape?

Now, when I thought about the day I could run again, I assumed it would be at the gym. I hadn't planned on a mild winter and clear roads. When I got up Thursday and looked outside, it was criminal to head to the gym.

My best rehab would be on the road and since there was no snow or ice, why waste time driving to the gym and getting a treadmill when I could run my old routes? This is amusing because less than a year ago I was petrified of running outside.

So I did just that. My chiropractor cautioned me that a key to continued healthy running was improved strengthening of my core (hello bootcamp), stretching and warmup. I did my regular bootcamp warmup and stretching, then walked for 5 minutes.

The Garmin counted up: 4:57, 4:58, 4:59, 5:00. And I was off.

I made sure to take it easy and loose. I'd check my watch and as soon as the 2 minutes were up, I'd stop for a walk. Rinse and repeat. It seemed to be over quickly, I went home, did my usual bootcamp cooldown and stretching, and I was back in the running game. Or was I?

Even when I was hurt, it didn't hurt when I ran. It was the 6 hours or so after when I stiffened up like a board. I spent the rest of the day almost waiting for the other shoe to drop or, really, back to stiffen. But it didn't. I felt OK.

Sunday was my next scheduled run day. It was brilliantly bright, sunny and a seasonally-appropriate 15 degrees when I headed out. (Note to self: Capris are not cutting it, get full-length running tights). Did my warmup and stretching, walked for a bit then headed off.

It was so great to run outside again. It was cold, but gorgeously sunny. My legs felt strong as they pushed off and landed. My arms pumped smoothly and my breath came out in big, beautiful plumes of white. I felt lean, light and loose as I quietly ran through my old haunts, by bare trees, brown grass, and barely iced over little streams. My favorite running music blistered through my headphones, broken up by the scratch-scuff-scratch-scuff of road sand shifting beneath my shoes.

It felt poetic and just right. And I was so very grateful to be able to enjoy what I love once again.

I came in the house and after stretching I headed for the bathroom to shower. I caught my reflection in the mirror: My hair was matted from sweating under the hat. My face and shins were pink from the cold. My torso looked flat and lean in a long-sleeved white running shirt and my legs, oh God, my legs looked - pardon my French - fucking fantastic in my running tights.

I hadn't seen that woman in a while. I couldn't help but smile like an idiot at myself. Welcome back.

In which I get some perspective

It was about 6:20 am today and I was walking across the bootcamp gym, carrying a 35-lb plate weight in each hand like a suitcase.

All I was doing was walking, carrying this extra weight, and as my shoulders started to burn, it hit me:

How the hell did I ever do this before - plus another 55 lbs?

Sure, I didn't have 125 lbs hanging exclusively off my arms but, you get the idea.

I can't remember hauling around a 282 lbs - and that's a very good thing.

The fact I got a little challenging reminder? Even better.

And the fact I could put down (OK, drop) the plates and instantly weigh 158 lbs again? The best.

In which my back - and butt - are back

I've always enjoyed the remake of Oceans Eleven, and my favorite quote is a total throwaway line.

During the last act, one of the thieves is a Chinese acrobat who's folded himself into a cart in order to break into the casino vault. He has had no lines the entire movie.

The rest of the gang is late getting him out of the oxygen-less cart, and when he extricates himself and catches his breath he yells:

"WHERE FUCK YOU BEEN?"

Cracks me up every time.

Anyway, if you visit here regularly, you may be wondering the same thing.

When a weight loss blogger who normally posts frequently doesn't post for a while, it's rarely good news. Usually the person is off the grid, off the reservation, off plan. Something is wrong.

And that's what happened to me in December.

Everything is cool now but, hoo boy, December was rough, the worst month I have had since starting Weight Watchers in September 2010.

I posted earlier about tweaking my back, which lead to a gluteus medius strain and I spent pretty much the entire month in a pattern of resting it and then accidentally reinjuring it. I had to take two entire weeks off from working out and I'm still unable to run - now 2 months later.

I went from a person for whom "sedentary" was a generous description to one who loved to get up first thing in the morning to work out. Believe me, I was as surprised as anyone. And then, for that ability to be taken away - even temporarily - was devastating. Add to that loss the overall pressure of December and, man, I was so down, physically and emotionally in pain.

Few people in my life seemed to understand how personally difficult this was for me, which lead to real feelings of isolation. "Oh, you hurt your back? That sucks. It will get better. But you get a week off from exercise!"

Well, I don't want a week off. A couple days a week, yes. Two weeks? Hell, no. I need it for my physical health, for my mental health, for my overall well-being - it's like oxygen to me now.

And, then, my inability to stop reinjuring my glute and back when all I was trying to do was ease back in and, wow, so unhappy.

It made eating right hard, and for a week I just said, "Screw it" and ate whatever I wanted.

It was horrifying how quickly all my bad habits rushed back. It had been 15 months of clean living, muscle building. sound eating. And, then, whoosh, back to whatever I wanted, which was baked goods, carbs and sitting on the couch.

A few pounds piled on, and one of my main tools for combatting weight gain - exercise - was unavailable. It was like trying to do Weight Watchers with one hand tied behind your back and, let's face it, living that life is difficult with both hands fully functional.

More sad feelings. More eating. More wearing of pants with elastic waists that were getting tighter. More low self-esteem. All bad. Just bad, bad, bad.

Then I ended the pity party after Christmas. I was able to go back to bootcamp and the elliptical (still no running) and start getting back to being 100%. I gradually felt better and better and, finally, just a week or so ago I finally felt strong and fit, 100%.

I still haven't run - yet - more on that in a future post.

So, anyway, that's where I was. December: Crawling into a hole. January: Crawling out. I didn't especially feel like writing with either endeavor. Should I have? Yes. But, frankly, I just didn't want to.

However, we're behind that now and, wow, do I have a shit-ton to share. At least I have a lot to write about.

In which I dangle off a building and other fitness feats

It was 6:30 am Friday and I was gently swaying in mid-air 3 feet off the ground.

My left leg was bent at the knee in an elastic stirrup. My right was hanging straight down. Both elbows were bent up, my arms tucked tight into my sides and my hands were gripping two large rings suspended from the ceiling.

I was trying to execute a ring hold for as long as I could, keeping all 158 lbs of me up while gravity tried to take me down. My arms and, therefore, the rings, were starting to shake from fatigue about 30 seconds in.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth trying to hold on, but my free leg starting poking around in the air behind me, looking for the safety of the tall plywood box off which we jump to start the exercise. Seeing my struggle, my trainer strolled over and calmly, quietly and seriously said:

"Melissa, don't let go. You're dangling off the edge of a building."

Seriously, how much fun is that? Very.

I find the ring hold/pull-up exercises super hard. I remember the first time I tried one, I think it was back in May. I stepped off the box and immediately plummeted, I couldn't hold myself up, let alone pull myself up. But, Friday, progress: I completed 3 ring pull-ups and held the hold for longer than I've ever been able before.

And that's why I love bootcamp. You get to try things you never thought you could do - and most likely things you never wanted to do. Sure, in the beginning you probably can't do them, but pretty soon it's a random Friday and you're pulling your body weight up and down in midair. Yay.

The past three days have been very fun fitness-wise. Friday I had my Batman-like work on the rings.

Yesterday I went to a demo class at bootcamp: Les Mills Body Combat, definitely the most demanding cardio class I've ever experienced.

The class combined a series of mixed martial arts disciplines, so you're punching, kicking, blocking and jabbing for an hour. It was crazy fun and a great workout.

At one point, the instructor yells, "Street fighter!" and we're pretending to hold someone down with one arm and rhythmically, repeatedly, punch them in the head with the other. Awesome.

I was hauling for the whole thing, evidenced by my heart rate monitor, which told me I burned 450 calories in 53 minutes. And I learned how to seriously tune someone up with my elbows and knees. So, all said, time well spent.

I was psyched that I'm in such shape that I can try out a very advanced cardio class and keep up quite well. And, bonus, I didn't accidentally kick anyone in the head. Or stroke out. Holla! However, I have a serious case of noodle arms today. I went to put on deodorant this morning and made a noise no adult should make.

Today was a long run day, and I had the course simmering in my head all week. Much like The Grinch, I live atop Mount Crumpet, the two best ways to get to my house are via two major, very steep hills. I've driven the roads tens of thousands of times, and any time I saw anyone running up either I thought, "You go, runner."

Then, when I started running I thought, "Hmmmm...."

It took nearly a year of running for me to nut up to give it a whirl, and today was the day. I decided to run down one of the hills (Greenwood, for local folks), loop around and then back up the other major hill (Elmwood), ending at home for 5 miles total. The run went great and the closer I got to the uphill, the more I felt like a Who down in Whoville looking up.

But, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, took it slow and easy, and pretty soon I was at the top, just a quarter-mile from home. But, crap, Miles 3.5-4.5 were straight up. Click to enlarge the horror:



When I started running I was scared to death of hills. I would choose races via one criterion: Are there any hills? I would check the elevation charts and everything. Did. Not. Like. Them. Hills make running - already hard - even harder. But as annoying as they are, they do make you a better, stronger, more confident runner.

I have a race next Sunday and I believe the course is kinda hilly, but I won't bother to check beforehand. I'm not worried. If I can conquer that one today, I'm set.

In which I am done sitting shiva

Thank you Jesus, I went to bootcamp this morning and got a good sweat on.

My ankle was strong, my Achilles was loose and I was so happy to be there, even when I rolled ass over tea kettle off the physio ball and even again when I looked like I was trying to impregnate it.

Hey, that thing is tricky.

My trainer surmised the Achilles tightened up because I iced and rested it all weekend. Yes, that was the right course of action, but I also should have stretched it to loosen it up. Ah ha, that makes sense. And that's why he's the trainer and I'm off in the corner humping the physio ball...

So, all good stuff this morning. Tomorrow I think I will try a short, easy run on the treadmill at the gym. It will be an entire week since I've run, I want to give it a go. An easy, light go. If anything doesn't feel right, I'll make for the stationary bike.

I am over it. Let's get back to bad-ass health and fitness business, shall we?

In which I surprise myself at the gym

Hurricane Irene screwed up quite a few things here in the Northeast last weekend, including my workout plans.

My highly-anticipated free-beer-and-BBQ 5K was postponed, understandably, leaving me with two days off from exercise and stuck huddled in the house with the family, praying the power didn't go out.

On Sunday night, after the all-day storm subsided, I had two thoughts:

I need to get away from these kids.

I need to get to the gym.

The surprising thing about the latter is, for the first time, I really wanted to go to the gym because I wanted to go.

I wanted to work out. I wanted to sweat. After nearly 9 months of heavy workouts and gym trips, for the first time I really wanted to go because I wanted to. Not because of guilt. Or because it was the day before weigh-in. Or because I should. Or even because I planned to.

But, finally, because I loved the feel of my muscles working hard, a soaking sweat and the satisfaction of a good effort.

Happily I drove over to the gym at 5:45 am and found it had power and was open. I hopped on the elliptical, dialed it up to Level 15 and 60 minutes of Random Hill fun.

And I friggin' killed it.

Seriously, those two days off yielded very fresh legs that were ready to roll. Normally I'll do 45 minutes on the elliptical, but I really wanted more, so I added another 15 minutes. I started out at my regular Level 10, but it felt way too easy. I had to jack it up to 15 before I felt like I was really working as hard as I wanted.

I hit that elliptical harder than ever before. Full of energy at 6 am and an awesome new playlist, I rode that machine into the ground and loved every minute of it.

In which I share tricks for getting up and working out

My alarm went off at 5 am this morning.

I hit Snooze.

10 minutes later, I hit Snooze again.

At 5:21 am I willed myself out of bed: Go eat something!

That did it, there was a Luna bar in the cabinet with my name on it.

I'm not a morning person, but for the past 6 months I've been waking up at 5-ish four times a week to work out before everyone else rises.

So, if I dislike getting up early, why do so?

It's the only time I can ensure I get my workout in.

When I first started exercising again, last fall, I used to work out when my youngest napped. But the problem was - and is - when she's napping I need some downtime, too.

It finally got to the point in which my need for downtime in the afternoon outweighed my need to sleep in.

However, that doesn't mean getting up early has gotten much easier. But there are a few tricks I employ to make it more bearable:

1. Go to bed early. For me, that means heading up around 10 pm, so I can get 7-ish hours of sleep. The closer I get to 6 hours or less, the harder it is to get up.

2. Eat something. I alluded to this above: The thought of food helps get me out of bed. I like to eat before I work out, I know this isn't the case for everyone. And I make sure what I eat is something I really like. Usually, a 5-Point+ Luna bar. Yum.

3. Lay your gear out the night before. With everything set out, this means all I have to do is put on my clothes. I can handle this.

4. Remember it's all over in 2 hours. Whether it's bootcamp or running, I'm done by 7 am. That is an awesome feeling, knowing I have the whole day ahead of me with my biggest personal to-do done.

5. Have someone expecting you. This is big for me. If I pay for a bootcamp class, I will be there. If I commit to meet a friend at the track, like I did this morning (see the sunrise above), I will be there. Making a commitment is an extra kick in the pants. Without that, it's easier to con myself into sleeping in.

6. Know that if you don't get out of bed, you won't work out today. I've yet to miss a wakeup call because I know if I sleep in, I will not have time to work out. And that will annoy me all day long.

In which I attempt to shed vacation weight

Going into vacation I decided: "Eat what you want, we'll get it off after."

Eating what you want when you're close to or at goal is a magical time. You look great and you can eat anything - a dream come true.

It's like, Wow, if I was a naturally skinny person with a nuclear metabolism, this is what life would be like.

But as I've found in the past, since I'm not that person, if I don't put a stop to that magical time, pretty soon I don't look great and my clothes are tight. And that causes me to continue to eat whatever I want, landing me right back where I started.

We flew home on a Wednesday and when I woke up Thursday, the larder was bare - on purpose. We needed a major shopping trip. You can see my fruit and veg haul above. I ate very little fruit or veg on vacation, and I was surprisingly jonesing for them when we got back.

I did have one moment of temptation in the grocery store. I was going by the ice cream aisle and for a split-second I thought: What if I extended my eating vacation for another day? Started tomorrow? Enjoyed today. With, you know, some ice cream. A lot of it.

But I wised up quickly. I've done this before and I'll start tomorrow turns into I'll start after the long weekend is over. That turns into panic on Monday night because I have weigh-in on Tuesday and that inevitably leads to me skipping weigh-in on Tuesday, which leads to a longer eating vacation, which leads to 282 lbs. No, thanks.

Since I ate so enthusiastically off-plan while away, I decided to work out every day when I returned. Normally, I'd work out Friday-Sunday-Monday, but since I had to jump start my body after 7 days off, I'd throw in a workout on Thursday and Saturday, too.

On Thursday, by the time I could work out I didn't have enough time for the gym, but I did have time for a run. So I went running. At 3 pm. It was sunny, 85 and I don't know, 128% humidity. Not a wise idea on my part, but I wanted to get a workout in.

Due to the weather, layoff and course I picked, it was very grueling. I didn't do myself any favors, that's for sure, but I got that run in.

Friday morning it was back to bootcamp and that 5 am alarm was tough. I snoozed it until 5:30 am, which means I had to jam to get dressed and over to the gym by 6 am. I had been thinking about weighing Friday, but since I overslept I had no time. Bootcamp was as challenging as ever, but like running I'm glad I got right back on the horse.

Saturday morning I woke up and decided to weigh myself. This is a cardinal rule I rarely break. But since I'd been away I needed a gauge of where I was at.

On my last WW weigh-in before we left, I put on my WI clothes and weighed in at home before the meeting so I would know the difference between the two scales. It turns out the WW scale weighs in .4 higher than my home scale.

So Saturday I put on my WI clothes after waking up and stepped on: 192.6, which would be 193 on the WW scale - a 2.2 gain. Not great, but not the worst. At least I knew where I stood. Later Saturday I went to the gym and did the elliptical for 50 minutes.

Sunday morning, I again put on my WI clothes and step on the scale: 192.6. Hmmm.

Now every day since Thursday I'm following all my best weigh-loss guidelines: staying within Points, more lean protein, fewer carbs, at least 5 fruits & veg, 100 oz of water a day and exercise. I'm a little perturbed there is no drop, but I've got 2 more days until weigh in.

After weighing Sunday, I went for my regular run, this time and nice and early so the weather wasn't so difficult.

Monday morning, WI clothes, step on scale. 193.4. WTF? +.8? Now I'm mad. I'm doing everything I can (and extra exercise?!?) and the scale's not only not moving, it's going up? Seriously, this is my No. 1 weight-loss nightmare: I do everything I can and nothing works.

This, by the way, is why I never weigh at home. I mentally can't handle the daily weight fluctuations. This got my day off to a not-great start.

Despite my disappointment, I head off to the gym for 45 minutes on the elliptical and continue to follow my eating plan for the day.

Weigh-in is tomorrow and I have no idea what will happen - not a great feeling.

In which I reveal my weight-loss 'secrets'

That headline is misleading as I don't have any secrets, I'm happy to share what works for me.

But the title, "In which I reveal my weight-loss rules of thumb" is boring.

Many people who haven't seen me in a while ask, "What are you doing?" When I reply "Weight Watchers" they almost always follow up with, "But what are you doing?" As in How are you doing it?

Over time I've developed many Dos and Don'ts that help me. I've divided them up into categories below to make them easier to digest.

I know the minute I hit "Publish Post" I will think of 14 more, so I will update this post as my early-onset Alzheimer's allows and make a note up here so you don't have to reread everything to find the new additions.

Now, my most important piece of advice:

You can do it.

No excuse will hold you back if you want this bad enough. It doesn't matter if you work, don't work, have kids, don't have kids, are married, single, busy, bored, tired, whatever.

We all have commitments, roadblocks, challenges and other problems that can get in our way if we let them.

But, in the end, nothing can stop you, but you.

I don't have any secret formulas, iron-clad willpower or a magic metabolism. If I had the latter two, I would never have been in this situation in the first place, I assure you.

I am nothing special, just a person who is very committed to this goal - safely and healthily doing what it takes to see it through. Some days are easy and some are hard, but I keep pushing through.

If you have any questions, just leave a comment and I'm happy to answer.

Weight Watchers

I follow the Weight Watchers Points+ Plan. Coming from old Points plans, Points+ did take a little getting used to, but I'm convinced its fruits/veg/protein focus is helping me lose weight faster.

I track everything I eat in a Three-Month Tracker. I save my trackers so I can reference them going ahead if need be.

I eat my Daily Points Allowance every day.

I rarely use my extra 49 Weekly Points (maybe once every 4-6 weeks). But if I want to go out to eat, I make sure it's early in my WW week - Tues (my weigh-in day), Wed or Thu, so I have time to work them off. If I have an event on the weekend, I try to make the best choices and keep the sodium low.

On workout days I eat some of my Activity Points. On heavy intensity days, I eat 3-4 APs. Moderate I eat an extra 1-2 APs. Depends on how hungry I am.

I drink between 96 and 128 oz of water a day. I drink it with every meal and ensure I get at least 96 oz in a day (3 refills of my 32-oz water bottle).

I love Diet Coke. It's my only vice left and I drink 2-3 a day. I don't drink coffee, never liked it.

I eat at least 5 servings of fruits and vegetables each day, usually more.

I try to cut down on carbs, and if I want a snack, I try to make it a protein. However, I do eat carbs every day.

I stay for the WW meeting every week.

Weigh-In Day

I wear the same lightweight workout clothes every week to WI: wicking T-shirt, yoga/gym pants (full in winter, capris spring-summer-fall). When they get too big, I buy a smaller size; no need to weigh extra fabric.

My weigh-in is 10 am. I don't eat or drink anything before. You can find me in the meeting room devouring a Luna Protein bar and a Diet Coke just after weigh-in.

Exercise

I eat a Luna Protein bar before a workout (5 Points+). When I get home after, I eat the rest of my breakfast. I need something on my stomach, I can't workout without any fuel.

I work out four times a week (Mon, Wed, Fri, Sun).

I believe in rest days and keep them. I have two back-to-back workouts on Sun/Mon, but my weigh-in is Tuesday, so I consider Monday my "last chance" workout, but it's less intense than M-W-F.

Currently my workouts are Monday (45 mins elliptical); Wednesday & Friday (45 mins bootcamp class); Sunday (45-minute run).

My workouts are early morning, 6 am. It's the only time I can ensure I can get it in with my full focus and without family obligations.

When I started exercising, I did Leslie Sansone DVDs four days a week. They're fantastic for all fitness levels, especially if you're starting out. I still find them challenging if another workout falls through.

Misc.

I never weigh myself at home. I've tried this in the past and I am almost always disappointed, either immediately or on the WW scale on official WI day. My weight fluctuates too much day to day for a home weigh-in to indicate how my week is going.

Also, I worry I would get too caught up in the numbers and throw myself off track. Who knows how much weight I gain or lose day to day? I don't want to know. I stress enough over one official weigh-in, I have no desire to add spot checks.

I won't do anything to lose weight that I wouldn't do to maintain it for the rest of my life.

I won't force myself to eat something I "should" but don't like. For instance, I have never liked bananas. Won't eat them.

I don't eat after 8 pm. Sometimes I don't get dinner until later due to family commitments, so every once in a while I'm eating dinner late, but as a rule of thumb I try to get dinner done before 8 pm.

I try to make Lunch my largest Points meal of the day.

I rarely drink alcohol. I'd rather eat my Points than drink them. This hasn't been too difficult for me as I wasn't a big drinker pre-WW. I swear I have a 12-pack in the basement fridge that's been there for a year. But, if I want a beer, you bet I will drink it and write it down.

I weigh/and or measure all my food on a digital food scale.

I shop a lot at Trader Joe's. They have an amazing selection of Points-friendly food.

Saturday, Sunday and Monday are my three days closest to WI. I am extremely conscious of what I eat and especially on Monday I try to cut down on sodium or anything that would cause me to retain water. You'll never find me eating sushi Sat-Sun-Mon, but it's the first thing I grab after WI Tuesday.

I read many weight-loss blogs. They're wonderful inspiration and offer a lot of great advice, food finds, recipes, etc. Some of my favorites are listed in the right column.

Any area I missed? Specific question? Ask away.

In which it's a weekend of good decisions

The past few days have been filled with hard-fought good decisions and good results:

Good Results

On Saturday, I got the blood test results from my recent checkup. The upshot: My cholesterol numbers, etc. are awesome. The doctor is thrilled. Gold star. I can't imagine what it would have been just 6 months ago.

Good Decisions

Our schedule this weekend was crazy. A lot of on-the-run, which did not leave me much time to eat at home and, most importantly, plan what I was going to eat.

However, I rolled with it and made good choices, but man, was it hard Saturday night. I was at Foxwoods Casino with my two best friends to see a show. We decided to grab dinner beforehand, and since I arrived before they did I walked around to find a good place to eat.

Healthy eating options are few and far between at that joint. And it seemed as if every time I turned around, there was a bakery (the hardest place for me), an ice cream shop, a candy shop, you name it.

I was walking around, alone in a sea of thousands, and I thought, You could stop and have whatever you want and no one would ever know..

This is where it gets so, so dangerous.

Were I not on Weight Watchers getting something to eat would automatically be one of the first things I would do. Something big and something sweet. I spied display cases full of towers of fudge, huge baked goods. Ugh, I had to keep walking, fast, and in the opposite direction.

I knew that were I to give in, it would have led to "In for a penny, in for a pound." Since I had already "blown" the day, it would have led to a high-Point, off-plan dinner, drinks and dessert. Then I would have been really mad at myself until WI on Tuesday, if I even went.

For me, this is how downward spirals begin and how good momentum comes to a screeching halt.

So instead, I sucked it up, booked the other way and waited for my friends. Now, yes, some day when I'm below Goal and I have more leeway in terms of a monthly weigh-in vs a weekly one, I can enjoy an off-plan meal and dessert. Just not then.

It was too close to my weigh-in and those are just sacrosanct in my life. I've been out to eat while on plan and I've eaten all my Weekly Points Allowance and had a great time. But those days are early in my WW week - Tuesdays, Wednesdays or Thursdays, maybe a Friday. But Saturday and Sunday are just too close for comfort.

When my friends arrived our best options was at a sit-down deli, which actually had a huge grilled chicken salad. It was perfect. A gigantic salad and plain grilled chicken. Couldn't have asked for anything more.

Cut to this morning, a gym morning. I decide to sleep in because I was out late (for me, that is). I managed to squeeze my run in later this morning and I was so glad I did. I would have loved to skip it, but I didn't. I had a good run and near the end I hear my Nike +iPod say, "2 minutes remaining. 2 minutes remaining."

I'm not sure what it was, other than a perfect union of mood + music. I felt great. I was proud of myself for not skipping my workout, for making good decisions the night before. My legs felt strong and powerful, and I could feel every stride and every kickback.

I was sweaty and warm from the run and when a favorite part of one of my favorite workout songs kicked in (just before the last verse of the Night Version of Duran Duran's Girls on Film, if you're curious), I thought, Let's crank this up.

I kicked the the speed on the treadmill faster than I've ever gone before and sprinted for the last 2 minutes.

It was awesome, runner's high-type stuff. I was running fast, but in control and, amazingly, really, really loving it. It was a great end to a great two days.

In which it's Bootcamp, Day 1

Remember the old Army slogan, "We do more before 9 am than most people do all day"?

I now know why it's true - they went to bootcamp.

Hell's bells, what an experience. I've never worked out so hard in my life.

Thanks to a spring snowstorm, only me and two other members of the 9-person class were on hand, but that was actually a good thing, given two of us were new.

After the warmup, we were on the ground doing (or trying to do) ab work and at one point I tuned into the music playing in the background:

Welcome to the jungle, baby/You're gonna diiiiiiiiiiiie

All I could think was, "That is a distinct possibility."

After the warmup and ab work came the 6-station circuit. Two exercises at each station, 2 minutes each. A 15-second rest between each minute. There was a mix of everything: cardio, strength training, upper body, lower body, you name it.

Some of the stations had equipment for the exercise. One didn't and I realized that's the one you will hate the most because it means you're doing horrible stuff like planks, Mountainclimbers, some insane move in which you're on the ground balancing off the ground on one arm and, hell, I don't remember, except it wasn't fun.

Did you ever watch a show like The Biggest Loser and watch Bob or Jillian (most likely, Jillian) holler at a contestant, telling them to step it up. And you're sitting on the couch, drinking a Diet Coke and wondering why that person isn't pushing harder? I do. I'll sit there and wonder why they're not giving it more. Today I realize why: They're friggin' exhausted.

At one point I was near the end of the circuit and the exercise was punching the concrete wall wearing boxing gloves. I've seen them do this on Biggest Loser and other shows. That looks easy. And fun! I'm going to crush that. Um, by that station I was exhausted. My punches were so pathetic, my arms were tired and heavy, and I realized if I was watching myself on TV, I'd be all, "Why is she dogging it?!?" LOL, payback is a bitch.

So, yes, it was a challenging predawn extravaganza, but sometimes going outside your comfort zone is what you need to really grow and go further than you ever have before. Three months ago I stepped on a treadmill and after running 60 seconds was sucking wind dangerously hard. Now, just 12 weeks later, I can run 35-40 minutes safely for a great workout. Running was definitely outside my comfort zone. And, insanely, now running looks like the "easy" workout.

If my workout today was a DVD I could do at home, I would have FF'd through half of it. Going to the gym and being with other people and a trainer forced me to move outside my comfort zone and try - at least try. Some things I did well. Most I didn't, but that's OK. Everyone has a first day. I loved being moved outside that comfort zone because it forced my hand. If left to my own devices, I'd do only what I knew I could do.

I can only imagine where I'll be in 6 months. I will have Batman-like strength and fitness.

After cool down stretches I sat up. The trainer (who, by the way, was great) walked by and said, "Are you OK?"

"I'm great."

And I meant it.

In which I remember where my battle lies

The alarm went off at 6 am yesterday and I didn't want to get up. Really didn't want to get up and drive to the gym.

Some days it's easier than others and this was one of those difficult days.

It's Sunday morning, everyone in their right mind is in bed, warm and cozy.

It's still pitch black out and in the 20s.

For God's sake, even the kids are still asleep, I really have to get up?

Yes, I did. Early morning is the only time I can reliably get a workout in. If I didn't do it now, chances are slim I would be able to easily make it to the gym for the rest of the day. I would be pissed off at myself for the rest of the day and, likely, all the way until weigh-in on Tuesday.

Then a thought came into my head:

This is where you win your battle. Not Tuesday mornings on the scale.

True enough. That's all it took. Up and out I went.

In which at bootcamp, 1 minute is a long time

This morning was the second of two introductory classes I had to take before starting regular bootcamp classes two times a week.

Last week, the trainer ran us through a lot of basic exercises we'd encounter. They have a repertoire of about 200 exercises they use, switching it up every week so no circuit is the same. This week, he set up a mini-circuit modeling what it would be like during a regular class.

There were 4 stations throughout the gym, with two exercises at each. For the first minute you did one exercise, rested 15 seconds then did the other for a minute. Then you progressed to the next station. Some of the exercises were cardio, some were strength training. All seemed long!

Sure, throwing a medicine ball as hard as you can against a concrete wall for a minute doesn't sound intimidating, until you try it. Then slam it to your side for another minute, hoping you're still with it enough to catch it, before it hits you in the face.

After one rotation - 8 minutes - I was sucking wind with wobbly arms and legs. The regular classes send you through three times and there are six stations - and that's after a decent warmp. This will be a great workout, that's for sure.

First real class is next Friday, 6 am. Oddly, I'm looking forward to it.

In which my squat muscles are sore

Yesterday I wondered what I'd feel like today, 24 hours after my first bootcamp workout.

Whatever muscles are used for squats are very sore. Trying to sit. Ouch. Trying to get up from a seated position. Oof.

No pain, just sore muscles. Not a lot of squatting has been going on in these parts in years. Yes, I could take ibuprofen. But I have this No meds of any kind unless absolutely necessary rule 48 hours before my weigh-in, due to water retention. It's a painful one to keep today, but I am sticking to it.

Typing of weigh-in, I am concerned about sore muscles = water retention = crap weigh-in. But I need to tone and strengthen, and I know cardio combined with strength training will turn me into a toned, fat-burning machine. However, I also know muscle-building can throw a monkey wrench in your weigh-in for a bit. Fingers crossed I can avert that.

I was due for the gym today and had planned to run, but I wanted to give my legs another day to recover from squatville. So I did 45 minutes on the elliptical with no problem.

Tomorrow I plan to run.

In which I start bootcamp

Very exciting morning today - I had my first intro class for a local bootcamp.

As I wrote earlier, this idea had been percolating in the back of my brain for a while and, finally, the time was right to commit.

This camp requires new members to attend 2 intro classes before jumping into the weekly classes. Today was the first, the last next Saturday. Then, the following week, I can hop into my regular 2x/week.

I was a little nervous when I walked through the door of what, essentially, is a giant warehouse covered in green astroturf and loaded with exercise equipment of all shapes and sizes.

As a lifetime overweight person, gym class was not a favorite by a longshot, and this action looked a lot like gym class. But I'm not 12 anymore, I'm not going for that damn Presidential Physical Fitness test, and I'm in better shape than ever. So, let's roll.

There were 7 other newbies in the class. One guy looked fit enough to be a trainer. A few women were young and looked fit. And, thank God, there were two overweight people in their 50s. I didn't want to be the only overweight person there. Old insecurities die hard.

We had a good warm up, one move of which was skipping down and back the length of the gym. Can't remember the last time I skipped. We stepped up and down on boxes for cardio and balance. We did a ton of 6-lb medicine ball tosses, chucking them at a concrete wall. That was very cool and therapeutic. Fun Fact: The harder you throw them, the harder they come back. Lesson learned.

We did strength work with resistance bands attached to the wall. Then we finished with free weight upper body presses, raises and punches with 5-lb dumbells.

At the beginning, I was wondering how intense the workout would be. By the end of the hour, I was sucking wind and sweating with wobbly arms and legs. Question answered.

What I liked best about the class was the fact it was run and designed by a physical therapist. He emphasized correct form, not speed, and issued quiet corrections when you needed it, "Make sure you knee stays back...", etc. There was none of the ridiculous yelling and screaming I hear emanating from the group exercise room at my regular gym, taught by The Hulk: "C'MON, PUSH IT! PUSH IT! ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" And that's from a spin class.

As I write this, I'm a little sore, but not in pain. I can feel solid, well-earned muscle fatigue in the quads, thighs and glutes. Wonder how I will feel tomorrow. Regardless, looking forward to next week.

In which there is big fitness news

Two very big developments here on the fitness front.

1. I will run my first 5K this Sunday. This was unexpected, somewhat. When I made the decision in December to start C25K, I discovered this race. I looked at the calendar and thought it would be a good one to try upon finishing the program, so I registered.

However, bad weather and lack of childcare has put me about 2 weeks behind in finishing C25K in time to do this race, so I figured I'd go and pick up my T-shirt, but not run the event.

I got a reminder email from the race organizers this week and it noted, "More than 1,400 runners and walkers have already registered." Wait, runners and walkers? I could do this, even though I'm not technically "done" with C25K and the longest I've run is 2.2 miles. And that was on a treadmill.

I'm pretty sure I could run the whole thing, but my major concern is injuring myself and really screwing up my body. I haven't run outside yet and running outside is so different from the treadmill.

So I would be combining my first outside run with a 1/3 increase in distance. I'm concerned that will equal "injury." However, I have a plan. I can run the first mile, walk the second and then run the last 1.2. And that should put me in the 45-minute finishing range I would expect to land. If I'm hurting, I can just walk more.

So, planning to give it a shot.

2. I signed up for a boot camp. I've been thinking about boot camps since I rejoined WW last September. A friend has been going to one nearby and raving about it. It's run by physical therapists and the Web site prominently display pictures of all shapes, sizes and ages. It looks safe, fun and challenging. And I have to tone up.

I finally have the schedule that will allow for me to take the two mandatory beginner classes needed to join. There is one each in the next two weeks and I can't wait. With those under my belt I can enroll in April classes and start going two times a week. I will still run three times a week and just replace my weekly elliptical workout with a boot camp session. I'll end up working out five days a week instead of four, but I still think that's doable and well worth it.

In which I finally get Nike +iPod to work

I'd run with the Nike +iPod Sport Kit twice and had yet to get it to work correctly.

It wouldn't calculate a pace and said I had only run a fraction of a mile in 25 minutes, which although I am slow, was quite wrong. I tried Googling an answer and realized: I had the sensor in upside down. Duh.

So my run this morning was calculated correctly, see above. It wasn't my best run, I had a hard time getting into a good rhythm and the time didn't fly by (forgot to load the new playlist on the Nano, again, duh) but I finished, so that's a victory in my book.

And I finally got the sport kit to work, so another win.

In which I wonder: Adios Resolutionistas?

This morning I was greeted with a beautiful sight when I got to the gym at the usual 6 a.m.

Every treadmill was free.

Since New Year's, there were traditionally 3 to 5 of the 6 treadmills occupied when I arrived. Sometimes they were all in use. But, usually one or two would free up within 5-10 minutes.

I know it's stupid, but when I drive the 10 minutes to the gym, it's always in the back of my head, "What if there are no free treadmills?" I know there's plenty of other cardio equipment, but I psych myself up to run and keep moving forward in C25K, so I want/need a treadmill.

Anyway, I hope it keeps up. It's one less thing I have to stress about in regards to working out.