Speed bumps, hiccoughs, stalls, hurdles and the like

A couple of weeks ago I told the whole wide world, or 3 people who read this and few who stumble across it, that I started a weight loss challenge at my gym. I'm still participating in the challenge and am watching what I eat but a few things have changed. My endeavors feel thwarted by forces out of my control and by good old fashioned self sabotage. I'm really good at self sabotage.

What has been going right:

Food consumption. I'm not buying little 'treats' at the grocery store. It's amazing how quickly those little treats add up to 50 pounds. I'm not drinking soda every day or even every other day or even every three days. I may have a soda once or twice a week. To placate the beast within that thinks it needs soda I have started working on an addiction to flavored fizzy water (think Talking Rain Peach Nectarine - yum).

Exercise. Kind of working. I see my trainer twice a week. Twice a week she kicks my butt. I feel strong and like the little aches that come with tearing down and building up muscle.

What has not been going right:

Sleep.

Theo, who started out his life like a little rock star in the sleep department, decided he should grow teeth and try to double his birth weight. That means he's a drooling, crying, feasting machine. He wakes up every two hours at night. Sometimes every hour. No joke.

If you come to the conclusion that not getting sleep in more than 1-2 hour stretches is taxing on ones physical (and emotional) health then you are spot on. Some days I muster up enough energy to be a kind, loving, doting mother. Other days I muster up just enough energy to not be hellish walking zombie. The days that I am hovering above zombie level and I have an appointment with the trainer is just awful. I told her last time that I was on the verge of tears.

I've discussed the exhaustion with my trainer and I've told her that I feel like I'm making up an excuse but she said it's not an excuse - it's a legitimate reason. My midwife said the best way to lose weight is to be well rested (as a starting point for the weight loss). My trainer agrees.

Sleep is the main limiting factor right now. I'm going to put more training sessions on hold until I am able to get more sleep. Paying for the trainer at a time when I'm not exercising in between our sessions and am not fully present during our sessions is a waste of money, a waste of her time and a waste of my time.

What I'm not putting on hold is my diet. Although, I must say I've been tempted since I started kicking around the idea to suspend my session with the trainer to revert back to my old eating habits. When I do that the thin angel on my right shoulder says, "No, April. Don't do it. Just go home and make yourself a nice cup of chai. That will work for you." No sooner are the words out of her mouth then the fat little devil on my left shoulder say, "Shut it, you stupid, smug angel! One little treat won't hurt."

Under normal circumstances I am able to keep the fat devil's mouth covered in duct tape. Under normal circumstances. When both boys are screaming or one is screaming (Theo) and the other is emitting a whine that could paper off a wall (Gavin) the fat little devil's voice can be heard above the din, "Chocolate! Chocolate! Chocolate!"

With a glint in my eye, I hear the chocolate cry and think, "Yes! That sounds really good," race over to the pantry and root around for the chocolate chips. If I'm not completely gone I will count out one serving size of chocolate chips. If I'm on the verge of tears, screaming and/or hyperventilating it is a miracle I don't just open the bag and pour them into my gullet like Homer Simpson.

I savor the chocolate and take a big, deep breath and turn my attention back to the wild beasts, er, I mean, children. It feels like a mobster scene from the movies. Classical music - or some kind of music that would normally conjure up images of something serene and peaceful - is playing in the background to a scene that is a blood bath of bullets and baseball bats.

Of course, instead of bullets and baseball bats, its toys to be tripped on, snotty noses to be wiped and dirty diapers to be changed.

Another hurdle in my goal to lose weight is my stupid freakin' second toe on my right foot. Yeah. One teeny, tiny little toe! If I don't tape it just right I'll incite the wrath of the tendon and it will flare up rendering me a gimp for a few days until the pain with each little step subsides.

So, I figured since I'm not well rested and have an on-going bout of tendinitis a 5K fun run would make everything better.

A girlfriend is going to send me a link to a website that has an exercise program that takes you from couch potato to 5K. She may join me on the race. Another friend, Heidi, who does marathons and half marathons, may join, too. I think we would keep her back, though. Maybe she can run circles around us on the race so she doesn't get too bored.

I've been a little hesitant to start running because when I do run I can't breath. My airways constrict and fill with mucous. I think I may have a touch of asthma. Just a touch. Dr. Fiala went through a little check list - do you wheeze when you have a cold? Yes. Does it hurt to breath when it's cold out? Yes, when it's really cold. Have you ever been diagnosed with asthma? When I was pregnant with Gavin. Have you ever been prescribed an inhaler? Yes. Did it work? Yes. Anyone in your family have asthma? Yes.

She also tested my lung capacity and found it to be outside the normal range, on the low side. So she prescribed an inhaler and if it doesn't help me when I run then I'm to go back and she'll try something else and maybe do some fancy tests to see what's up with my lungs.

I'm hoping the albuterol does the trick. I can run through the pain but I can't run without air.

So, I'm really hoping I can get a little more sleep and do this run. Really. Really. Really.