Tag Archives: early weight loss

A million things I haven’t done

Hello, again. It’s been too long, again.

Last post, I was trying to start a meetup. There wasn’t good attendance for the first two meetups, and that discouraged me from scheduling another one. But just now, between writing “It’s been too long, again” and “last post…”, I decided, what the f, just try again and scheduled a repeating meetup every Saturday at 9 am. Wish me better success this time! I’m hoping that every week will pick up more people. I’m super nervous, tbh.

My dog, Hobbit, died, but I don’t want to talk about that. My parents already got a new dog, which took some getting used to.

I’ve been really struggling to maintain motivation. I have very little trouble getting motivated, but it doesn’t seem to last the full day, so that’s minimally useful.

I took the leap of buying my friend a bikram pass so that I have someone to go with, so that I actually go. I figure it’s better to pay double but get the benefits than it would be to pay the normal price and get nothing because I lack motivation. This friend is good at getting going, unlike me, so it is a lot easier to just tag along with her than to get myself moving all alone.

In other news, the Warriors lost and my husband and I had a bet going. Had they won, he would have had to listen to the whole Hamilton soundtrack with me. But they lost, so now I have to go to the gym 5 times a week for a year, starting tomorrow. Can you tell he drives a harder bargain than I do? Sigh. I think I’ll try the workouts recommended in the book Strong. I made tables in word with the first set of workouts, here’s what that looks like.Screen Shot 2016-06-26 at 11.21.56 AM

Maybe that’s all I have to say today, but I’m going to commit right now to posting again on… Tuesday. Why not? See you then!


Post workout

January 7

I just finished day 2 on my “get running” app on a treadmill at planet fitness. I just want to write down how I’m feeling so I don’t forget how good it feels.

I feel warm. My legs feel especially warm, and they remember motion the same way my body used to remember the waves on the night after a day at the beach. My breath feels easy and clear. My heart feels alive. I feel fully awake for the first time today. My head feels a bit light, but not unpleasantly so.

Most of all, I feel content, again for the first time today. I feel “in the moment,” in my body, but not in the noisy gym where I’m waiting for my husband to finish up. I’m listening to my current favorite piece, (link here).

I’m beginning to feel the cold. It’s not unpleasant. It moves over me in chills, seemingly synced to the music.


January 8

I tried to do my another day of Get Running today, but I think I needed a break from it. I made it through 7 of the 8 one minute runs. Still felt good, just not as good as yesterday.

My goal is to love running. So many people do, including people who never thought they could. It seems at least possible that if I’m careful, patient and positive, I might cultivate a love of running too. Then I could run with my husband, and we would have something that we would enjoy doing together outside of the house.

Part of the reason why I think it’s possible to love running is because I’ve been listening to the Half Size Me podcast, and there are some stories of people who have lost impressive amounts of weight, and discovered that they love running. If they can do it, why shouldn’t I give it a shot?

That podcast (I may have mentioned it in 2014, but I’m going to go out on a limb and guess no one remembers me doing so) is doing a lot to keep my spirits up. The host/creator/master mind behind it lost 170 lbs–and maintained the loss for 4 years this month–herself, and seems to have made it her mission to spread the gospel of possibilities. She does it through interviews with other awesome losers.

I love it because I need inspiration as much as anyone, but I find the motivational poster/quote with picture medium hard to swallow. If it has to be dressed up that much, how can I be sure it’s really deep and not just glamorous? But I find my own incidental inspirational quotes in the podcast, and I write them down if I can (often I’m driving).

Here are four of my favorites. Sadly, I don’t have any idea which episodes these come from, I’ve been binge listening (lol) for over a week.

I decide what happens to my body


How would I treat myself, how would I act, if I loved myself? What would I say when I talk to myself?


I choose to run happy!


You have to walk each step to be ready for the next one.

I could probably write a post about what each of these mean to me, and maybe I should, but for now I’ll let you make of them what you will.

In other news, I’m trying to be more positive…. actually, I guess the more positive way to say that is I have decided to BE more positive. There is no try, and all that. We’ll see.

It’s not easy, though I seem to have others fooled. I can still feel the darkness of how I am if I’m not careful, just under the surface of positive thoughts. But that’s ok, I just have to believe that the positive will seep through into the core of my being.


For long-term positivity and appreciation of all that is good in my life, I am stealing an idea that I read about a few days ago on the Damn girl, that’s a lot of fattitude blog. The good jar. In my case, it’s the good box, because I have a love of boxes that borders on the ridiculous, so I had a beautiful box I felt would be perfect. It’s also A great way to use the tiny pad of lovely peacock paper I got years ago. Nothing ever seemed right to write on it until now. It’s just a shame my handwriting is such garbage.

For the whole year, I will write down whenever something especially good happens to me. I want to fill it, so I am also including good decision. At the end of the year, I can look back on my year of goodness and be glad I kept track. The trick will be to not forget. I often forget things. I’ll keep it visible, even in the way, as much as possible.

In my last post I forgot to mention how I chose to mark the dawn of the new year.

Very literal. I watched the sun rise. It was lovely… a little cold. I noticed that the frost didn’t form until the sun was rising, and I wondered about that. If you know anything regarding frost, let me know. It’s hilly where I live, so it was light for a while before the sun managed to clear the hill.

That’s all for now, I think.


Training Montage

It’s been a while. I know I’ve missed you all more than you are likely to have missed me, since there are so many other wonderful blogs to keep you satisfied.

So I start with the big news of today: I had my first session with my personal trainer! I felt super clumsy, but I was extremely glad to have someone supervise me, to make sure I do things close to right. We started with jump rope, then he had me punch a punching bag.  At first he told me to go hit the bag as fast and as hard as I could. Quickly, he realized I had no idea what to do, so he showed me the correct form, and I practiced that, quite slowly.

You may be asking “Katrina, why would you film that?” Great question. I want to get some clips of me trying to exercise throughout my process, and then cut them together into a training montage. I would like to see something like that, but I can’t make someone else do it, so I decided I have to do it myself. I want something I can go to when I’m losing steam, that will make me feel excited about the possible-ness of losing weight. Montages are magical. I want to watch a video that is just a few minutes long, that makes me think, even just for a moment, that losing weight is a beautiful, almost fun process. I want someone to convince me of that long enough to get me started. I can’t have that, but maybe I can make that happen for someone else.

Also, some of you already read that I was toying with the idea of someday becoming a personal trainer. I’m still toying with that idea, and if I ever do act on that thought, I think the montage could come in very handy for promotional material and making myself relatable for the client. Apparently, I am sometimes capable of forethought.

I just filmed what I think will become the intro to the montage video, so you guys get a sneak peek. I didn’t really do much to make myself look good in this clip, because I figure it’s basically a just a before shot. So I’m rocking the Einstein-bedhead look, with the braid I slept in all messy. That’s my usual look, by the way. I have a very poor track record of self care. I believe strongly in self care, just apparently not for MYself. It just seems like a waste of effort to get all dolled up when I usually don’t even leave the house for more than an hour a day. Part of me believes that as I lose weight and–hopefully–gain self esteem, I might learn to present myself in a way that I am not ashamed of. The other part of me thinks I’m putting the cart before the horse. I’d be interested to know others’ thoughts on the matter.


On a lighter note, a special thing happened when I was having my personal training session today: I looked out the open door and who do you think was looking in? You will never guess, so I’ll just tell you. It was a peacock. Just a random peacock peeking through the door. He was walking down the street by the time I got my phone out, IMG_6112but I did get a picture of his retreating form. My trainer was as surprised to see the bird as I was, so apparently this is not a regular occurrence in the area. He–my trainer, not the bird–said that it must be good luck to see a peacock. It certainly felt lucky. Magical even. And very surreal. I can’t stress that enough. One minute my mind was all crunches, next minute, boom. Peacock. I’d say it was more magical than a rainbow.

I had a great training session, pushing harder than I ever would when I’m on my own. I kind of, sort of liked it, a little bit. At least during the session I had a sense of clarity of purpose, and felt I was headed in the right direction. I usually don’t get to feel that way.  Now I’m actually sore. I rarely work myself hard enough to get sore. And guess what? I go back for more tomorrow.

I meant to also tell you all about my mother in law and brother in law and how their visit went, but I’m getting sleepy and I’m ready to post this. Hopefully, I’ll eventually get around to it.

Let’s Do the Time Warp!

So back in 2012, right as I was about to get married, I did a tiny bit of blogging. Just 3 posts, to be exact. I was calling myself bibmke (two Swahili words for wife, smooshed together). 

I’m just going to copy paste those 3 posts here, as a way of keeping them available to myself, later. I honestly barely remember some of this stuff. I was very dramatic…. I think I may have mellowed out in the past 3 years. If you’ve got a bit of time to kill, feel free to read and comment. I’d be interested to know what you think of past me in comparison with present me.

May 2, 2012

I only get one of you

Hello. I’m a 22 year old bipolar girl on the brink of marriage. Sometimes I can’t even fathom how lucky I am to be marrying such an all-around incredible guy… But I’m not here to brag about him. I’m here to shame myself into a healthy lifestyle.

I need to lose weight. I want to lose weight… But somehow I continue to sabotage myself every single day. I can always think of some excuse why I need or deserve to have unhealthy food. Sometimes I even eat more than I want. On at least two occasions I force-fed myself cupcakes, even past the point of enjoying them and well into the point of feeling sick. I rationalized that I was building bad associations with cupcakes. I went right back the next day. And hated it. And hated myself. I still don’t really know why I did it. My fiancé sure as shit didn’t understand–he doesn’t even like most sugary American garbage “food.” He can’t wrap his head around the idea that I would repeatedly do something I know is destructive to my goals. If we argue, it’s about that. He wants to help me and see me succeed and I want to fart around on the Internet, paint my nails, paint pictures and do random artsy crafts, all while guzzling chocolate, if possible.

Just to be clear, he genuinely sees me as beautiful the way I am, so don’t assume he’s trying to change me for any selfish reasons. My mother told him that she had pregnancy diabetes, and told him that I might be at risk of developing diabetes if I continue the way I’ve been headed. Also, I have PCOS, which apparently is more likely to make me barren if I’m overweight. He wants to make sure I’m healthy and that I live as long and full a life as possible. I only get one of him; he only gets one of me.

So my new plan is to try and mimic the Amazing Diet Girl and blog myself into health.

May 3, 2012

Sometimes the best intentions get the WORST results

My fiance, (henceforth I shall call him J-Boo) is an amazing person. Sadly, he’s so damn private about everything that his profile picture–the only picture he posted– picture on facebook is a cat, so I don’t plan to mention to him that I’ve started blogging. He has the kindest heart imaginable, he’s patient, faithful, forgiving, smart, hard-working and well-intentioned. He wants so much to help me become healthy! But he really struggles with certain things. He is so disciplined that my moodiness, occasional laziness and inconsistent resolve remain well beyond his comprehension.

From his perspective, he can’t stand by and let someone he loves destroy herself. He tries so hard to help me and guide me that I start reacting to him as though I were his 6 year old daughter: if I can convince him that I can eat chocolate/not exercise/whatever then it’s alright. All I need is permission from him, and ultimately everything will turn out fine, because he’s guiding me and doing all that hard “forethought” stuff. So, instead of focusing on moving forward, I find myself focusing on convincing him that I need/deserve whatever unhealthy thing I happen to want. Obviously, he’s never convinced, because, from his point of view, there is no way that feeling moody justifies making blatantly stupid decisions. The right/healthy thing to do is always the same, even if it’s hard, even if I’m grumpy. He’s very strong and focused. I’m…. pretty much spoiled as hell and pitifully moody. We won’t ever see eye-to-eye on this, but somehow we need to stop having it be an issue.

And I know the problem is me. I wish so much that the problem could be him, but it won’t ever be. But the more he gets involved, the easier it is to pretend it is his fault. I use him as an excuse. I do something stupid for the hundredth time, he asks what I did all day and I tell him. Then, somehow, he’s not thrilled that I’ve set myself back yet again, and the next day I find myself thinking “he’s so judgmental. If he would just loosen up I could recover emotionally and stop overeating!”

Yeah, right.

A couple times I’ve succeeded in convincing him to stop interfering with my eating habits, but then, the very instant he said “do what you want,” I couldn’t stand the thought that he might be “giving up” on me. I end up asking him for help again, and then hating him for it.

The fact is I’ll use anything as an excuse, and I know it. J-Boo is forever blameless, poor dear.

I just needed to get that out in words so I could behold all the horror that is my downfall. If I keep this shit up, I could hurt my relationship with the most wonderful man imaginable AND die of obesity in a few years.

“OK self, as of this moment, no more bullshit

The third post was never published, and I can’t figure out the date for it. I also appear not to have finished it, so it ends somewhat mysteriously.

B is for Bipolar

Sorry about the silence, finals week was bad for me. Bad in almost every way.

On Wednesday I was told that I had a D on my group presentation. I got watery-eyed and the teacher felt bad enough to give me a hug, but we both knew that I had done quite poorly in this instance, so I made no effort to change the grade. I went to the school cafe and ate (horrifyingly enough) a chocolate chip cookie, a chocolate cheese muffin and washed it down with white chocolate mocha, extra extra whip. Then I fell asleep…. Still in the cafe. I overslept and was late to pick up my Boo. On the way to get him I got a doughnut and an ice cream bar. That is when things started getting worse.

I hadn’t been taking my pills (bipolar medication) because I hadn’t put the pills in the boxes for the week yet. I hate handling pills, the sound of the pills in their little bottles makes me want to vomit. I was also menstruating and recovering from a UTI.  All in all, I was in pretty much the worse mood I could be in, and poor, poor J-Boo didn’t know a monster storm was brewing in the driver’s seat.Also, I felt gross because of allergies.

He asked me how my day was, and how I did on the final I’d had that morning. I said something like “I don’t know boo, maybe fine” but he kept pressing me for a more certain answer (he can usually guess what his score was within a few percentage points). I hit the gas then the breaks (thank god it was an empty road) “I don’t know boo, that’s why I said Maybe!” I became quiet and grumpy behind the wheel.

We were low on gas, so I pulled into a gas station. Then we realized that neither of us had much cash and we would need to check our accounts before buying gas. I told him about the D, and began to sob. He hates being conspicuous. He wanted to go home. I wanted to cry a bit before trying to drive (he can’t drive yet). Finally he convinced me to go home. There was no free spot in the lot closest to my dorm room. My reaction to the lack of parking space was…. crazy.

I screamed and tore at my face (by the next day most of the marks were gone). I screamed. I screamed the kind of scream that is only forgivable when it comes from small children or people in agony. I screamed until I gave myself a headache.

“It’s OK Trina. Look, they’re leaving. We can park there. Please calm down.” By the time I had calmed down enough to take my foot off the breaks, the spot he’d seen was gone. I had to drive around. There were skateboarders in my way.

Skateboarders are never a welcome sight, but never before had I hated them quite so much. This was a parking lot, not a playground. Rage burned inside me. I stacked my hands on the horn and pressed with all my weight, arms locked, leaning forward. I honked at them for at least 15 seconds, then put my foot on the gas and rushed at them. They were laughing at me. I could see it on their stupid blond faces. I didn’t hit them, and apparently I didn’t even scare them.

“They were laughing at me! Did you see them LAUGHING at me?! They were laughing!

“They weren’t laughing at you, they were laughing at themselves because they knew they were being stupid.”

I’m still pretty sure they were laughing at me.

Eventually we got to my room, where he went to my computer. I curled up on my bed. I accused him of ignoring me, but it turned out he was just checking to see if he could view my grades for that course. He got into bed with me and was very gentle, petting my head and absorbing my tears.

The next day I had another tantrum because he said he wanted to stay with his host family in Santa Rosa (North of SF bay) for “most of June”  so that he could spend time with his friends, instead of coming straight home to with me to Richmond (one hour away, East bay). This time instead of screaming, I just became silent and teary, and I threw the key card at him instead of handing it to him nicely.Then I left him alone while I went to watch a musical written by the friend of a friend of a friend of mine.

When I came home, refreshed by the music and the triviality, I apologized for my behavior and told him I knew I had been wrong. But he was still troubled. He started saying how we need to work some things out before we get married. This upset the tentative emotional balance that had been restored by the musical. I needed him to understand how I was feeling, how off everything was. I muttered something about drowning myself in a toilet. I’m not sure what he made of that. He still wouldn’t touch me when I tried to snuggle up to him. So I backed off.

Then an idea struck me. “This is a terrible idea,” I thought. “There is no possible benefit and you’ll just look extra crazy. It won’t be fun. Afterwards, he’ll either be worried or mad.

…..What was that idea? No one will ever know.


I got behind in my color in calendar (color-coded depending on whether I stayed on plan, stuck with just diet or just exercised or whether I blew it). I hadn’t colored anything in for the last few days. And my eating has been a mess since Easter, in that I haven’t logged some transgressions of mine. Some sick part of me refuses to count chocolate peanutbutter malt balls stolen from the bulk bin at the market. I never keep track of my kleptomaniacal malt ball bingeing. I just sort of orbit that isle, stealing as I go. I’ve never stolen in my life, except from bulk bins. 

Anyway, I had to decide how to color those days, since I didn’t remember which days were or were not full of malt balls and other sins. But also because I went to the gym like a champion, every day, and I want credit for that. I decided to give them the “exercise saved the day” color. 

Now, I have to work on making today worthy of the “perfect day” color. I’m off to a good start. I had an apple for breakfast (mostly because my husband was running late) and I’m now in the gym parking lot, preparing to go in. So, now I make and publish my gym plan, so that I stick to it. 

I want to run 20 minutes again. I’ve done it a few times now, but never gotten in a good amount of weight machines after. So that’s today’s goal. 

1. Stretch

2. Treadmill

3. Stretch

4. Do as well on weight machines as I did on Easter 

5. Update blog

But before any of that, I want to walk a couple blocks to buy myself headphones