Sunday, June 24, 2012

Pride Goeth Before The Lbs.

I've had to swallow my pride a bit more than usual this past week. It's a bitter pill, that pride. I don't like being looked at as pitiful or as needy and I have a REALLY hard time asking for help. I'm kind of stubborn that way. So when I get to my water aerobics class on Tuesday and my lifeguard friend isn't there (he's in the other pool room with all the kids taking swim lessons). I was stopped in my tracks. Guess who is OUR lifeguard? Some tiny sweet thing that couldn't weigh more than 100 pounds. "So, what's the problem?" you may ask. I wasn't planning on drowning. She wasn't going to have to fish me up from the bottom of the pool. But in about 45 minutes, I was going to have to get OUT of the freaking pool. The ladder I use to get out, must be manned at the top (stepped on) so that it doesn't come crashing down on the climber outer. Well, can you just picture that tiny sweet thing being launched across the pool when I step on the other end? Maybe you can't, but that's exactly what I imagined - and I almost had a panic attack at the thought. My lifeguard friend and I had a routine worked out and nothing had to be said. It was all very safe and comforting. Although it was embarrassing to need the help, I didn't have to announce it each day.


So I had a choice to make. I could hide somewhere until it was time to take boys 1 & 2 to their swim lessons, or I could get in the &#@* pool. My lifeguard friend saw me standing there (I'm sure with a stupid look on my face) and came over to me. I joked with him (not really joking) that he was in the wrong room and that the tiny lifeguard in there might get hurt when she tried to help me. He told me that  they'd figure it out and that I should get in the pool. So I did. I worried the whole time. "How embarrassing would it be when I can't get out of the pool?" "Who's going to help me?" "Are they going to announce over the loud speaker that all lifeguards were needed in the big pool to get the circus fat lady out?" I tell you, when my worrier gets worrying, it really gets going. When it was time to go, I finally just mentioned something to the instructor and she asked the lifeguard to go get someone - who happened to be the co-director of aquatics - who happened to be a tall, handsome, physically fit man - just the person I wanted to watch me get out of the pool - with a close-up view to all of "this" (just imagine me gesturing to all of me).


For the rest of the week, I had to remind the instructor that I needed the other ladder -  because between my sore foot, my sore knee and "all this", I can't get out of the pool like the 80 year old women in my class can. And you know what? (All together - "No, but I know his brother, Who.") It worked out. But there was a price to pay. I had to ask for help - again and again. The thing is - it's not going to end any time soon. I'm getting stronger every day and one day, I won't need the "special" ladder. But, next, I need help with the equipment upstairs. I need to know the right way to use it AND how many reps of 5 or 8 or 10 or whatever I need to do. I tried to just figure it out. But, AGAIN, I knew I should ask for help. So I have an appointment with a trainer for my orientation. And, of course, it's with one of their new trainers - a young, male trainer. Now I know it was useless to hope for an old, fat, female trainer, but I don't deny hoping for it anyway. After I can use the equipment without maiming myself, I'm sure something else will come along to keep me humble. Over the weekend it was the full length mirror in my hotel room (Lobster got me a room for my Mama Mental Health Me Time - LOVE him, but hate that mirror!!). Right this minute, I'm hating the "My Fitness Pal" button I installed on my blog that will notify EVERYONE that reads this that I have lost 0 pounds toward my goal. Granted, I just installed it on Thursday.  But in addition to using the food tracking tool, I decided that I needed more accountability and the button (and its prominent placement), I'm hoping, will do that.


So, I'm needy! I'm pitiful! I require assistance! HELP ME! If I admit it to the world, will my experiences be different? I can only hope. On the bright side, I'm pretty sure that pride is calorie free.




10 comments:

  1. Stay strong! You only need help because you are helping yourself! Like you said, it wont be right away, but someday you wont need the help, and you can not get to that point without it now! I'm rooting for you!

    Are you able to do much walking with you knee and foot? I thought it might be nice to have a walking buddy who doesn't normally jog 5 miles a day (I mean, I love the sisters in the ward, but most of them are more athletic than I am)

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    1. Thanks, Hayley. I can walk a bit, but pretty slowly. They get pretty sore when I'm on them for very long. Right now I'm trying the water aerobics 3 days a week and some strength training 2 days - and making sure I'm more active during my days here at home. I'll be walking better when I lose some more weight. Thanks - I'll be in need of a walking buddy!

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  2. Amy, sometimes I laugh so hard at your comments....believe me, I know what you are talking about! We should get together and laugh (giggle) off the pounds. You have a great sense of humor - which is needed in our situation. My trainer said my weight loss would start at the top and work it's way down. Great! Instead of looking like a big blob I would look like a crooked neck squash.

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    1. Thanks, Meridee! That made such a funny picture in my head! It's too bad we live so far apart. We could start a new craze - the giggle workout. Thanks for your support - it means a lot!

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  3. This truly makes my day every time I read it. You are a fantastic writer Amy! Keep up the good work - it is a long road but so worth it.

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  4. I love this blog! It's so fun getting to know you better, and I love seeing that even though people have different struggles, we are still similar. Ah, pride. I'm right there with you. I had my pride handed to me the first time I went to swim train for the triathlon. I thought I would get in there and do the laps so quick that I would be sure to change out of the slowest swim time. I mean, if ladies more than 10 years older than me could do it, of course I could, right? Wrong! Then I started to cry in the pool- even worse for my pride, but I couldn't stop. But then I realized that just by being there in the pool, I was making progress. Anytime I run and have to stop to walk, I tell myself I haven't failed because I haven't gone home! As long as you're working at it, you're taking a step in the right direction. Slow progress is still progress!
    And if it makes you feel any better, I've been embarrassing myself showing off my mad skills on the bike. We went biking at Minto while there was some sort of a fun run going on, and I ran over one of their cones for the run-- Oops! Also, I hit my handlebar on a pole as I tried to make it through a small opening with about 3 ladies from church behind me and several ahead of me. And there's one hill that I have to stop and walk my bike every time because I haven't figured out how to stand and pedal at the same time (without falling). Hope that helps :)

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    1. It IS nice to know that each of us goes through this at one time or the other. My aunt told me that small steps are just as important as big steps and that they get you there faster than no steps at all. Thanks, Jocelyn. It's amazing how writing helps me work through a lot - I'm hoping it takes the place of eating my feelings. :)

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    2. FYI: feelings taste terrible. Just like potato chips :)

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    3. Thanks, Jocelyn. I'll keep telling myself that. ;)

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