Monday, March 18, 2013

Hair Color Is My Exercise Secret...Really


I recently discovered some "sparkling" hairs dancing around in my natural colored hair...and (gasp) after a closer look...they were not sparks...they were gray.  :(  After a declaration of "Hell No!"  I called the hair guru and insisted we consult on this tragedy.  I have done hair color in the past, but it fades.  Like in DAYS.  (Just another blessing of being me.)  So literally when I wanted my hair done for my wedding, I had to schedule it a DAY before the big event.  Shortly after the big event I had decided the price is too much (literally every hair color on the store shelf will turn my hair some version of red so I have to have my pro do it) and the benefit is too little...I swore off hair color.  That is, until the gray.

In my weight loss I continue to track my food with "My Fitness Pal".  And I have begun to do a walking program at home.  It makes me really, really disgustingly sweaty.  So I had come into a routine of showering (it is how I turn my brain on), going to work, coming home, exercise, shower again.  This was lovely and working with good result on a pretty regular basis.  That is, until the gray - and the hair color - and the threat that every shower is killing my color one day early.  

We did try a different kind of hair dye this time...I think it is gel based...I don't know what that means for the chemical reaction that is soaking on my brain.  But it looks good.  It seems to be lasting (for the record we are 30 days in and you can still actually tell my hair is a darker color than it previously was---progress).  

And it occurred to me... I don't sleep super well.  Like I usually wake up about 50ish minutes before my alarm.  I still hate morning and I still hate exercise, but I like my hair color.  And if I could just draggggg myself out of bed...the math looks good that I could do this damned exercise, then shower, then be free for the rest of the day.  And you know what?  Almost three weeks later - and I haven't died, I haven't killed anyone, and I dare say....I kind of like it.  

Now, before you hate me.  I do NOT LIKE it as I am crawling out of bed.  I DO NOT like it while I am doing it....I hate the instructor more every day.  I DO NOT like people that tell me how great they feel when they exercise first thing in the morning---they make me gag.  And now I am one of them.  (double gag)

I've done 2-4 miles most every day (4-6 days a week).  There have been mornings where I didn't sleep good and I've given myself permission to skip...but even then, I've usually ended up doing a mile or two.  I have enjoyed the lack of fight for the TV.  The lack of audience for my sweat session.  And that there I know in advance...no one wants to "walk with me".  I have taken to exercise only by the light of the TV...b/c it's 5 a.m. people, and I just don't need lighting at that hour of the day.

And something must be different.  On days that I walk in the morning - I do find that by the time I pull into the office, I feel like I've already concurred a bit of the day.  (I also enjoy seeing that I have already built in extra calories in the event that I go over my scheduled amount.)  I generally hit a MUCH higher step on my pedometer for the day...even compared to when I was doing the same exercise at the end of the day.  

So if you are looking at an unusual way to motivate yourself to fit exercise into your daily routine...consider hair color.  It's worked for me.  :)  

Friday, March 1, 2013

The Scale

I have purposely not been stepping on the scale for quite a while.  I just find that it derails me when I'm doing all the right things, then the scale doesn't reflect the effort I'm putting in.  So the last time I was on the scale was at my last doctor appointment, about six months ago.

Went back to the doctor today, and I decided to see what the scale had to say.  I'd lost about 15 pounds.  I'd like to point out, that last weigh-in was in July.  I was likely wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops.  And today I was wearing jeans, a long-sleeved top, and big clunky snow boots.  Plus I'd just eaten.  (Though I have no recollection of when I'd eaten last when I weighed six months ago.)

Anyway, I expected balloons and fanfare, or at least a comment from the doctor.  I got nothing.  But that's okay.  I know I'm doing well, and maybe that's good enough.