My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

It's 12:40 a.m. - Wednesday. I haven't been to bed yet. I even took a sleeping pill over an hour ago, something I never do anymore.

I think there's a saying, if you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it. If it's not a saying then it should be. I'm not Googling it. I'm too tired, angry, and frustrated to even care.

For some reason that I don't even understand, tonight at about 11 p.m. I decided to go into my husband's office and see what was in the closet that was floor to ceiling boxes. I can't remember if I mentioned on here that he is a hoarder. I'm sure where he's living right now that it's already starting up again. It came to a point where I couldn't even open his office or bedroom doors all the way. To get to his computer he had to turn sideways because there was a narrow path to his desk. His office and his bedroom could have been on an episode of Hoarders. It was hideous, as was our garage and the shed. It's part of the reason for the divorce, but actually, just a small part.

I cleaned his bedroom (if you hadn't already guess we haven't shared a bedroom in over a decade). I cleaned the shed, and about half of the garage so I can at least park in it. I did this while he was in the hospital and in rehab for his broken leg. He asked me to clean his bedroom so he could get his wheelchair in the room, along with his walker. So it's very clean, other than the clutter he started gathering when he came home. He wasn't happy about his clean bedroom, but I considered it a health hazard and it had to be cleaned.

His office is a different story. I started on it, but didn't have time to do much. I've been wondering what was in the closet, which was filled with boxes. I found stuff. Letters from during our marriage, from other women. Lots and lots of letters and cards, some with dates that were only five years into our marriage. We've been married twenty-four years. I read the letters from these women. They loved him, they loved feeling his arms around them, they wanted to be with him, they missed him when they were apart. Even though I had suspected this for years I never had any proof. Now I have proof. Now it doesn't matter anymore.

It still hurt. When I was reading the letters and some of the things they said to and about him, I felt the blood drain out of my body. I was hit with chills, like I was freezing. I took one of the boxes and sat by the fireplace as I read through his treasures from other women. Amidst the love letters were cards from me. Birthday, anniversary and Christmas cards. "I love you" cards as well, from me, telling him how much I loved him. These were mixed in with letters to him from other women, dated the same time. Some date as far back as 1993, that's when he had a post office box in only his name. He said it made our mail safer (we were in an apartment). Now I know it made "his" mail safer.

Some of this was before cell phones, but I found out he had an 800 number so the women could call him. I don't know where they called him. His work? What the hell? The women talked about how they loved talking to him for hours, and the wonderful conversations they had with him. It made me want to puke. I even found one letter from one of the women's husband telling him to stay away from his wife.

Wow. Just "wow" is all I can say. If I had even one smidgen of doubt about this divorce (and actually, I haven't - but if I did), this would have put the final nail in the coffin of our marriage.

I guess I'll go to bed now. I still plan on the gym, in about five hours. My revenge is to get healthy and look good. To be strong and powerful. As far as my husband, he can just go to hell for all I care. 

Morning update

Morning update

I promised I'd post here this morning, and thank you so much for your kind comments on my crazy post from earlier today.

First, life lesson learned this morning at 1 a.m.:

LISTEN TO YOUR GUT

If you read my earlier post at 1 a.m. today you know about what I found out last night about my marriage. I knew something was wrong from the beginning. My recent divorce filing is my third time in 24 years I've tried to end this marriage. I knew the day we got married it was a mistake. I didn't listen to my gut, which was an even bigger mistake. It's going to cost me, monetarily and mentally, to end this 24-year long mistake. If only I had listened to my inner voice. Lesson noted and learned.

Speaking of listening to my gut, the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I couldn't turn it off fast enough. I had only been sleeping about two hours, if you call tossing and turning, and having a panic attack at 4 a.m. sleeping. I woke up again at 6 a.m. I thought I can either roll over and play dead, or get up and fight for what I want in life. I chose my life over another hour of sleep. I went to the gym. It was only 35 minutes on the elliptical. I forgot my water bottle. I missed my turn onto the road to the gym and was on my way to work. Luckily I noticed this before I got on the freeway. I was on the elliptical for five minutes before I realized I didn't have my iPod on. I guess I'm really out of practice for the gym.

Now it's off to work. I feel good today. Good about going to the gym. Good about my decision to end my marriage. Things really are better in the morning.

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

It's 12:40 a.m. - Wednesday. I haven't been to bed yet. I even took a sleeping pill over an hour ago, something I never do anymore.

I think there's a saying, if you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it. If it's not a saying then it should be. I'm not Googling it. I'm too tired, angry, and frustrated to even care.

For some reason that I don't even understand, tonight at about 11 p.m. I decided to go into my husband's office and see what was in the closet that was floor to ceiling boxes. I can't remember if I mentioned on here that he is a hoarder. I'm sure where he's living right now that it's already starting up again. It came to a point where I couldn't even open his office or bedroom doors all the way. To get to his computer he had to turn sideways because there was a narrow path to his desk. His office and his bedroom could have been on an episode of Hoarders. It was hideous, as was our garage and the shed. It's part of the reason for the divorce, but actually, just a small part.

I cleaned his bedroom (if you hadn't already guess we haven't shared a bedroom in over a decade). I cleaned the shed, and about half of the garage so I can at least park in it. I did this while he was in the hospital and in rehab for his broken leg. He asked me to clean his bedroom so he could get his wheelchair in the room, along with his walker. So it's very clean, other than the clutter he started gathering when he came home. He wasn't happy about his clean bedroom, but I considered it a health hazard and it had to be cleaned.

His office is a different story. I started on it, but didn't have time to do much. I've been wondering what was in the closet, which was filled with boxes. I found stuff. Letters from during our marriage, from other women. Lots and lots of letters and cards, some with dates that were only five years into our marriage. We've been married twenty-four years. I read the letters from these women. They loved him, they loved feeling his arms around them, they wanted to be with him, they missed him when they were apart. Even though I had suspected this for years I never had any proof. Now I have proof. Now it doesn't matter anymore.

It still hurt. When I was reading the letters and some of the things they said to and about him, I felt the blood drain out of my body. I was hit with chills, like I was freezing. I took one of the boxes and sat by the fireplace as I read through his treasures from other women. Amidst the love letters were cards from me. Birthday, anniversary and Christmas cards. "I love you" cards as well, from me, telling him how much I loved him. These were mixed in with letters to him from other women, dated the same time. Some date as far back as 1993, that's when he had a post office box in only his name. He said it made our mail safer (we were in an apartment). Now I know it made "his" mail safer.

Some of this was before cell phones, but I found out he had an 800 number so the women could call him. I don't know where they called him. His work? What the hell? The women talked about how they loved talking to him for hours, and the wonderful conversations they had with him. It made me want to puke. I even found one letter from one of the women's husband telling him to stay away from his wife.

Wow. Just "wow" is all I can say. If I had even one smidgen of doubt about this divorce (and actually, I haven't - but if I did), this would have put the final nail in the coffin of our marriage.

I guess I'll go to bed now. I still plan on the gym, in about five hours. My revenge is to get healthy and look good. To be strong and powerful. As far as my husband, he can just go to hell for all I care. 

Morning update

Morning update

I promised I'd post here this morning, and thank you so much for your kind comments on my crazy post from earlier today.

First, life lesson learned this morning at 1 a.m.:

LISTEN TO YOUR GUT

If you read my earlier post at 1 a.m. today you know about what I found out last night about my marriage. I knew something was wrong from the beginning. My recent divorce filing is my third time in 24 years I've tried to end this marriage. I knew the day we got married it was a mistake. I didn't listen to my gut, which was an even bigger mistake. It's going to cost me, monetarily and mentally, to end this 24-year long mistake. If only I had listened to my inner voice. Lesson noted and learned.

Speaking of listening to my gut, the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I couldn't turn it off fast enough. I had only been sleeping about two hours, if you call tossing and turning, and having a panic attack at 4 a.m. sleeping. I woke up again at 6 a.m. I thought I can either roll over and play dead, or get up and fight for what I want in life. I chose my life over another hour of sleep. I went to the gym. It was only 35 minutes on the elliptical. I forgot my water bottle. I missed my turn onto the road to the gym and was on my way to work. Luckily I noticed this before I got on the freeway. I was on the elliptical for five minutes before I realized I didn't have my iPod on. I guess I'm really out of practice for the gym.

Now it's off to work. I feel good today. Good about going to the gym. Good about my decision to end my marriage. Things really are better in the morning.

Morning update

Morning update

I promised I'd post here this morning, and thank you so much for your kind comments on my crazy post from earlier today.

First, life lesson learned this morning at 1 a.m.:

LISTEN TO YOUR GUT

If you read my earlier post at 1 a.m. today you know about what I found out last night about my marriage. I knew something was wrong from the beginning. My recent divorce filing is my third time in 24 years I've tried to end this marriage. I knew the day we got married it was a mistake. I didn't listen to my gut, which was an even bigger mistake. It's going to cost me, monetarily and mentally, to end this 24-year long mistake. If only I had listened to my inner voice. Lesson noted and learned.

Speaking of listening to my gut, the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I couldn't turn it off fast enough. I had only been sleeping about two hours, if you call tossing and turning, and having a panic attack at 4 a.m. sleeping. I woke up again at 6 a.m. I thought I can either roll over and play dead, or get up and fight for what I want in life. I chose my life over another hour of sleep. I went to the gym. It was only 35 minutes on the elliptical. I forgot my water bottle. I missed my turn onto the road to the gym and was on my way to work. Luckily I noticed this before I got on the freeway. I was on the elliptical for five minutes before I realized I didn't have my iPod on. I guess I'm really out of practice for the gym.

Now it's off to work. I feel good today. Good about going to the gym. Good about my decision to end my marriage. Things really are better in the morning.

Morning update

Morning update

I promised I'd post here this morning, and thank you so much for your kind comments on my crazy post from earlier today.

First, life lesson learned this morning at 1 a.m.:

LISTEN TO YOUR GUT

If you read my earlier post at 1 a.m. today you know about what I found out last night about my marriage. I knew something was wrong from the beginning. My recent divorce filing is my third time in 24 years I've tried to end this marriage. I knew the day we got married it was a mistake. I didn't listen to my gut, which was an even bigger mistake. It's going to cost me, monetarily and mentally, to end this 24-year long mistake. If only I had listened to my inner voice. Lesson noted and learned.

Speaking of listening to my gut, the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I couldn't turn it off fast enough. I had only been sleeping about two hours, if you call tossing and turning, and having a panic attack at 4 a.m. sleeping. I woke up again at 6 a.m. I thought I can either roll over and play dead, or get up and fight for what I want in life. I chose my life over another hour of sleep. I went to the gym. It was only 35 minutes on the elliptical. I forgot my water bottle. I missed my turn onto the road to the gym and was on my way to work. Luckily I noticed this before I got on the freeway. I was on the elliptical for five minutes before I realized I didn't have my iPod on. I guess I'm really out of practice for the gym.

Now it's off to work. I feel good today. Good about going to the gym. Good about my decision to end my marriage. Things really are better in the morning.

Morning update

Morning update

I promised I'd post here this morning, and thank you so much for your kind comments on my crazy post from earlier today.

First, life lesson learned this morning at 1 a.m.:

LISTEN TO YOUR GUT

If you read my earlier post at 1 a.m. today you know about what I found out last night about my marriage. I knew something was wrong from the beginning. My recent divorce filing is my third time in 24 years I've tried to end this marriage. I knew the day we got married it was a mistake. I didn't listen to my gut, which was an even bigger mistake. It's going to cost me, monetarily and mentally, to end this 24-year long mistake. If only I had listened to my inner voice. Lesson noted and learned.

Speaking of listening to my gut, the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I couldn't turn it off fast enough. I had only been sleeping about two hours, if you call tossing and turning, and having a panic attack at 4 a.m. sleeping. I woke up again at 6 a.m. I thought I can either roll over and play dead, or get up and fight for what I want in life. I chose my life over another hour of sleep. I went to the gym. It was only 35 minutes on the elliptical. I forgot my water bottle. I missed my turn onto the road to the gym and was on my way to work. Luckily I noticed this before I got on the freeway. I was on the elliptical for five minutes before I realized I didn't have my iPod on. I guess I'm really out of practice for the gym.

Now it's off to work. I feel good today. Good about going to the gym. Good about my decision to end my marriage. Things really are better in the morning.

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

It's 12:40 a.m. - Wednesday. I haven't been to bed yet. I even took a sleeping pill over an hour ago, something I never do anymore.

I think there's a saying, if you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it. If it's not a saying then it should be. I'm not Googling it. I'm too tired, angry, and frustrated to even care.

For some reason that I don't even understand, tonight at about 11 p.m. I decided to go into my husband's office and see what was in the closet that was floor to ceiling boxes. I can't remember if I mentioned on here that he is a hoarder. I'm sure where he's living right now that it's already starting up again. It came to a point where I couldn't even open his office or bedroom doors all the way. To get to his computer he had to turn sideways because there was a narrow path to his desk. His office and his bedroom could have been on an episode of Hoarders. It was hideous, as was our garage and the shed. It's part of the reason for the divorce, but actually, just a small part.

I cleaned his bedroom (if you hadn't already guess we haven't shared a bedroom in over a decade). I cleaned the shed, and about half of the garage so I can at least park in it. I did this while he was in the hospital and in rehab for his broken leg. He asked me to clean his bedroom so he could get his wheelchair in the room, along with his walker. So it's very clean, other than the clutter he started gathering when he came home. He wasn't happy about his clean bedroom, but I considered it a health hazard and it had to be cleaned.

His office is a different story. I started on it, but didn't have time to do much. I've been wondering what was in the closet, which was filled with boxes. I found stuff. Letters from during our marriage, from other women. Lots and lots of letters and cards, some with dates that were only five years into our marriage. We've been married twenty-four years. I read the letters from these women. They loved him, they loved feeling his arms around them, they wanted to be with him, they missed him when they were apart. Even though I had suspected this for years I never had any proof. Now I have proof. Now it doesn't matter anymore.

It still hurt. When I was reading the letters and some of the things they said to and about him, I felt the blood drain out of my body. I was hit with chills, like I was freezing. I took one of the boxes and sat by the fireplace as I read through his treasures from other women. Amidst the love letters were cards from me. Birthday, anniversary and Christmas cards. "I love you" cards as well, from me, telling him how much I loved him. These were mixed in with letters to him from other women, dated the same time. Some date as far back as 1993, that's when he had a post office box in only his name. He said it made our mail safer (we were in an apartment). Now I know it made "his" mail safer.

Some of this was before cell phones, but I found out he had an 800 number so the women could call him. I don't know where they called him. His work? What the hell? The women talked about how they loved talking to him for hours, and the wonderful conversations they had with him. It made me want to puke. I even found one letter from one of the women's husband telling him to stay away from his wife.

Wow. Just "wow" is all I can say. If I had even one smidgen of doubt about this divorce (and actually, I haven't - but if I did), this would have put the final nail in the coffin of our marriage.

I guess I'll go to bed now. I still plan on the gym, in about five hours. My revenge is to get healthy and look good. To be strong and powerful. As far as my husband, he can just go to hell for all I care. 

Morning update

Morning update

I promised I'd post here this morning, and thank you so much for your kind comments on my crazy post from earlier today.

First, life lesson learned this morning at 1 a.m.:

LISTEN TO YOUR GUT

If you read my earlier post at 1 a.m. today you know about what I found out last night about my marriage. I knew something was wrong from the beginning. My recent divorce filing is my third time in 24 years I've tried to end this marriage. I knew the day we got married it was a mistake. I didn't listen to my gut, which was an even bigger mistake. It's going to cost me, monetarily and mentally, to end this 24-year long mistake. If only I had listened to my inner voice. Lesson noted and learned.

Speaking of listening to my gut, the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I couldn't turn it off fast enough. I had only been sleeping about two hours, if you call tossing and turning, and having a panic attack at 4 a.m. sleeping. I woke up again at 6 a.m. I thought I can either roll over and play dead, or get up and fight for what I want in life. I chose my life over another hour of sleep. I went to the gym. It was only 35 minutes on the elliptical. I forgot my water bottle. I missed my turn onto the road to the gym and was on my way to work. Luckily I noticed this before I got on the freeway. I was on the elliptical for five minutes before I realized I didn't have my iPod on. I guess I'm really out of practice for the gym.

Now it's off to work. I feel good today. Good about going to the gym. Good about my decision to end my marriage. Things really are better in the morning.

Every once and a while I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown

Every once and a while I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown

Most of the time, I'm okay. Amazingly okay. I feel strong and positive that I'm doing the right thing by having filed for divorce. I feel confident that my life will all work out for the best and in the long run, everyone will be better off.

Then sometimes, like right now, I feel like I'm just a huge mess and nothing is ever going to be okay again.

I realized today that some of the cats that I've shared with my husband for several years will go with him when the dust settles on the divorce. I thought I was okay with this because they really are his cats. They adore him and when he was here they hung out with him, not me. I really have one cat that loves me and only me. Mickey. He's the one I took to Palm Springs with me (pictured in the window at my girlfriend's house a few posts ago). He's the only cat that comes when I call him and wraps his front paws around my ankles. He sleeps with me. He's my best cat friend. Without a doubt, he goes with me.

Cats are not loyal creatures. Now that my husband is gone I have become their best friend, their only friend. I find myself growing attached to these guys even though I don't want to. That makes me very sad. I know if my husband was to walk in the door, that I would quickly be relegated back to my previous second-class status. Of course, he would only walk through the door over my dead body, and I mean that literally. Someday though, we'll have to split up our belongings and the cats. Thinking about it makes me cry.

The fact that it's the holidays doesn't help either. Add in the shootings in Connecticut and the continuous news reports on the subject, well, let's just rip my heart out and stomp on it.

Diet and exercise. What's that you say? This is suppose to be about my journey to getting healthy. Well guess what? I made fudge at lunch and ate six large pieces (I worked from home today) -- that was my lunch! I felt violently ill all afternoon. Like I was going to throw up. Hot and sweaty. Trouble breathing. I thought I was dying. Death by chocolate seemed like a reality. I've cut up the rest of it, placed it on a pretty dish, saran wrapped it and put it in the trunk of my car. For work tomorrow. I don't care if I ever eat a sweet thing again the rest of my life. Totally gross!

Tomorrow morning...the gym! I promise. I'm going to follow one of my favorite blogger's suggestions and put my workout clothes on the back of my bedroom door so they'll be the first thing I see in the morning. Thank you Roxie from Gravel and Rust for this great idea. I even have the alarm set. Even if it kills me I'm going to the gym tomorrow. I promise to post first thing in the morning with an update on my gym experience...and my nervous breakdown status. Usually things are always better in the morning...they don't feel like they can be much worse right now.

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

If you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it

It's 12:40 a.m. - Wednesday. I haven't been to bed yet. I even took a sleeping pill over an hour ago, something I never do anymore.

I think there's a saying, if you go looking for trouble, you'll probably find it. If it's not a saying then it should be. I'm not Googling it. I'm too tired, angry, and frustrated to even care.

For some reason that I don't even understand, tonight at about 11 p.m. I decided to go into my husband's office and see what was in the closet that was floor to ceiling boxes. I can't remember if I mentioned on here that he is a hoarder. I'm sure where he's living right now that it's already starting up again. It came to a point where I couldn't even open his office or bedroom doors all the way. To get to his computer he had to turn sideways because there was a narrow path to his desk. His office and his bedroom could have been on an episode of Hoarders. It was hideous, as was our garage and the shed. It's part of the reason for the divorce, but actually, just a small part.

I cleaned his bedroom (if you hadn't already guess we haven't shared a bedroom in over a decade). I cleaned the shed, and about half of the garage so I can at least park in it. I did this while he was in the hospital and in rehab for his broken leg. He asked me to clean his bedroom so he could get his wheelchair in the room, along with his walker. So it's very clean, other than the clutter he started gathering when he came home. He wasn't happy about his clean bedroom, but I considered it a health hazard and it had to be cleaned.

His office is a different story. I started on it, but didn't have time to do much. I've been wondering what was in the closet, which was filled with boxes. I found stuff. Letters from during our marriage, from other women. Lots and lots of letters and cards, some with dates that were only five years into our marriage. We've been married twenty-four years. I read the letters from these women. They loved him, they loved feeling his arms around them, they wanted to be with him, they missed him when they were apart. Even though I had suspected this for years I never had any proof. Now I have proof. Now it doesn't matter anymore.

It still hurt. When I was reading the letters and some of the things they said to and about him, I felt the blood drain out of my body. I was hit with chills, like I was freezing. I took one of the boxes and sat by the fireplace as I read through his treasures from other women. Amidst the love letters were cards from me. Birthday, anniversary and Christmas cards. "I love you" cards as well, from me, telling him how much I loved him. These were mixed in with letters to him from other women, dated the same time. Some date as far back as 1993, that's when he had a post office box in only his name. He said it made our mail safer (we were in an apartment). Now I know it made "his" mail safer.

Some of this was before cell phones, but I found out he had an 800 number so the women could call him. I don't know where they called him. His work? What the hell? The women talked about how they loved talking to him for hours, and the wonderful conversations they had with him. It made me want to puke. I even found one letter from one of the women's husband telling him to stay away from his wife.

Wow. Just "wow" is all I can say. If I had even one smidgen of doubt about this divorce (and actually, I haven't - but if I did), this would have put the final nail in the coffin of our marriage.

I guess I'll go to bed now. I still plan on the gym, in about five hours. My revenge is to get healthy and look good. To be strong and powerful. As far as my husband, he can just go to hell for all I care. 

Survival of the fittest

Survival of the fittest

I really want to talk about my divorce and the domestic violence case, but the prosecutor's office and my attorney have told me to keep quiet. Anything I write, whether email, text or even this blog, can be subpoenaed for the trial. Even though I would only write the truth, it's best if I keep quiet. Someday I'll talk about it, after the criminal case trial is over, but right now, I have to remained silent on this topic.

Instead, I'll talk about my new focus...my health! For the last several weeks, during all the drama in my personal life, I've tried to eat healthy, but I've failed miserably. I haven't had any binges, but I haven't tracked my food or been very careful about what I was eating. I've only gone to the gym once in the past several weeks (and I thought I was going to die!).

My logic was that I was going through a very traumatic experience and it wasn't the right time to worry about my weight.

All I can say about that logic, s-t-u-p-i-d!

What really woke me up was the class I went to on Thursday. In addition to my gun training and my weekly shooting range practice, I also wanted to take self-defense classes. A guy at work told me I should try Krav Maga. I mentioned it in a previous blog. It's the Israeli Army and Special Forces self-defense training. It's basically street fighting. Krav Maga is Hebrew for hand-to-hand combat. There are several centers that offer this training. The dojo I went to also has Crossfit, Taekwondo and Zhumba classes.

A girlfriend and I went to the trial class. I was worried I wouldn't be fit enough for the class. After we signed up for our free class, we were sent to one of the rooms to wait for the instructor. I looked around the room and noticed mostly women, several of them were very overweight (at least as heavy as me or even heavier). There was fun music playing and I felt okay, I won't have any problem. If these women can do this, I'll be fine.

My relief was short-lived. The Krav Maga assistant instructor that was assigned to help us came into the room and said we were in the wrong place, this was the Zhumba class!

He took us down the hall to another large room. I knew immediately I was in big trouble. Everyone was very physically fit, all were height and weight proportionate and muscular.  I was by far the fattest person in the room. In fact, I was the only fat person in the room. My girlfriend that was with me is 5' 6" and weighs 145. She walks every day at lunch for one hour (rain or shine). I walk with her sometimes (and she walks fast). I'll be walking with her every day from here on out. Especially after what I went through in this class.

OH-MY-GOD! That was the hardest, most difficult, most physically challenging class I've ever taken in my life. I was really into high-impact step aerobics in the 70's and 80's. Ha! That was baby exercise compared to Krav Maga.

I literally thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. It's very fast moving. In between the different moves they teach they have you do things like running, push ups, stomach crunches. All the things I really hate.

The moves they focused on in our class was punching, foot work when punching someone, how to throw a punch, and how to fend off a knife attack.

The punching was really hard. They taught us how to stand with our feet to give us the best balance, and how to throw our entire weight into the punch. We were in pairs, and one person would hold a padded board against their chest while the other person punched it. I punched it so hard that by the end of the class my knuckles were raw, with the skin peeled off (I'm getting some gloves or at least the wrap thing the instructor was using).

Before the knife attack training the instructor showed us a surveillance video on youtube of a real knife attack that happened this year in China. It was in a public area in broad daylight. A 24-year old man attacked a 28-year old woman, trying to steal her purse. There were people standing by, but they didn't help her. He stabbed her over 50 times and killed her.

After the video, which was very disturbing, we were taught how to fend off a knife attack, using fake knives. That hurt even more than the punching. We used our forearms to knock the knife out of the assailants hand. The force of the forearm against forearm was very painful. The instructor assured us we'd get use to it and we wouldn't break any bones.

The thing about this class is that you don't play gentle. When you smack your assailant's arms, you smack it like you really mean it. When you punch the padded board your partner is holding, you hit it as if you were in a real fight for your life. You play for real. The idea is if you get into a situation where you need to protect yourself, you'll know what to do.

The instructor even gave me a couple one-on-one lessons. I told him what had happened to me and how helpless I felt. He showed me some moves I would never have thought about on my own. Even if you're pinned down on the floor with someones full body weight on you, you still have options on how to escape.

My girlfriend and I are going to sign up for the classes. I'm going with the one-year option. It's a bit pricey, but by committing to a year, there's quite a bit of savings. It's for unlimited classes.

Probably the most difficult thing, besides the running and push ups, was the instructor telling us that we needed to be light on our feet. You need to be able to move quickly when you're being attacked. At 217 pounds moving quickly is almost impossible for me.

Which brings me to my latest weight loss plan. Weight Watchers. I signed up last night online, and this morning I'm back to the meetings. After Weight Watchers, I'm going to the gym. Then home to mow the lawn.

This is really about survival. It's about being able to get away from danger if I need to. If I can't get away, then it's about being able to fight back. It's put a completely different spin on why I need to lose weight and be healthy. It's no longer just being concerned about having a heart attack or getting some horrible illness because I'm fat. It's not about wearing cute clothes. It's really about being strong and being able to defend myself. Who knew it would literally take a gun to my head to get serious about losing weight?

Every once and a while I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown

Every once and a while I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown

Most of the time, I'm okay. Amazingly okay. I feel strong and positive that I'm doing the right thing by having filed for divorce. I feel confident that my life will all work out for the best and in the long run, everyone will be better off.

Then sometimes, like right now, I feel like I'm just a huge mess and nothing is ever going to be okay again.

I realized today that some of the cats that I've shared with my husband for several years will go with him when the dust settles on the divorce. I thought I was okay with this because they really are his cats. They adore him and when he was here they hung out with him, not me. I really have one cat that loves me and only me. Mickey. He's the one I took to Palm Springs with me (pictured in the window at my girlfriend's house a few posts ago). He's the only cat that comes when I call him and wraps his front paws around my ankles. He sleeps with me. He's my best cat friend. Without a doubt, he goes with me.

Cats are not loyal creatures. Now that my husband is gone I have become their best friend, their only friend. I find myself growing attached to these guys even though I don't want to. That makes me very sad. I know if my husband was to walk in the door, that I would quickly be relegated back to my previous second-class status. Of course, he would only walk through the door over my dead body, and I mean that literally. Someday though, we'll have to split up our belongings and the cats. Thinking about it makes me cry.

The fact that it's the holidays doesn't help either. Add in the shootings in Connecticut and the continuous news reports on the subject, well, let's just rip my heart out and stomp on it.

Diet and exercise. What's that you say? This is suppose to be about my journey to getting healthy. Well guess what? I made fudge at lunch and ate six large pieces (I worked from home today) -- that was my lunch! I felt violently ill all afternoon. Like I was going to throw up. Hot and sweaty. Trouble breathing. I thought I was dying. Death by chocolate seemed like a reality. I've cut up the rest of it, placed it on a pretty dish, saran wrapped it and put it in the trunk of my car. For work tomorrow. I don't care if I ever eat a sweet thing again the rest of my life. Totally gross!

Tomorrow morning...the gym! I promise. I'm going to follow one of my favorite blogger's suggestions and put my workout clothes on the back of my bedroom door so they'll be the first thing I see in the morning. Thank you Roxie from Gravel and Rust for this great idea. I even have the alarm set. Even if it kills me I'm going to the gym tomorrow. I promise to post first thing in the morning with an update on my gym experience...and my nervous breakdown status. Usually things are always better in the morning...they don't feel like they can be much worse right now.

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

I'm so very blessed

I'm so very blessed

Even though I've gone through some very dark days these past months and especially the last four weeks, I feel like I'm very blessed in so many ways.

I've been in Palm Springs the last five days on a Thanksgiving mini vacation. I'm staying with a very dear friend. She lives in the heart of Palm Springs in a beautiful home, complete with a pool and jacuzzi, and she makes the best margaritas I've ever tasted. In addition, she's a great listener. The past several days have been healing for me. This is something I really needed because the last year has been the most difficult and painful year of my life.

Last week, the day before Thanksgiving I was in court with my attorney for the extension of the temporary restraining order against my husband. My husband showed up in court and told the judge I was a liar and I didn't need protection from him. I am not a liar. Due to the seriousness of the charges in the domestic violence case and the evidence, the judge extended the temporary restraining order to one year.

At the same time, in front of the judge and a room full of people, my attorney served my husband with divorce papers.

That afternoon I received my Concealed Pistol License in the mail and then picked up my Sig Sauer P229 9mm pistol from the gun store. I shot 100 rounds in my new gun on the shooting range that day. This has to be one of the best guns I've ever handle. I tested over 20 rental pistols at the gun store on shooting range (free gun rental on ladies night and 1/2 off on the shooting bay). I don't know how many hundreds of rounds I shot with the rental pistols, but it was several. I'm a pretty good shot now and plan on continuing my training. I'm doing it for protection, but it's sort of fun too.

A girlfriend I work with wants to learn to shoot so we've signed up for a six-hour training class on December 30. I've already gone through personal one-on-one training with the instructor, for a 2-hour session, so I understand gun safety basics.

Diet and exercise haven't been at the top of my list this week, however, my girlfriend is tiny (size 4). She's my age so it's not because she's young and has a high metabolism. It's because she really watches what she eats. She eats very small amounts of food. I've been following her lead all week, and I've been a little hungry all the time. My downfall has been her fabulous margaritas.

Our Thanksgiving dinner was different and perfect. Even though she had invitations from friends to bring me along for their Thanksgiving feast, she decided that I might not quite be ready for a whirlwind of social activity. She was right. I cringed when she mentioned it. I had just flown in that morning and the thought of making pleasant small talk with strangers wasn't at the top of my list of things I wanted to do. Instead, we headed to downtown Palm Springs to her favorite new restaurant, Lulu's, and had lettuce chicken wraps (so good) and margaritas. Best Thanksgiving I've had in years!

The only exercise this week was a three-mile hike in Palm Canyon on Sunday. I thought I was going to die. It was "only" 85 degrees, but in the hot sun in the desert, I'm pretty sure it was more like 100 degrees. The trail was labeled "moderate", but they either made a mistake or we took the wrong trail, because it sure felt like "difficult" to us. The palm tree part of the hike was really pretty, but the desert part was killer, uphill with big boulders. It was the longest three miles of my life!

I'll post some pictures later this week, once I get home. I'm leaving on a flight this afternoon and it's back to work tomorrow.

Even though my marriage is over and I'm going through a divorce, and a domestic violence trial sometime during this next year, and probably selling our home soon, I'm very blessed to have wonderful friends in my life. Blessed to be able to feel the sun on my face. Blessed to be able to continue with my life. My near death experience three weeks ago has changed me forever. 

Postscript:  After publishing this post, I went back and read through your comments on my last post, the Divorce Diet. Wow. I thought most of them would be those annoying annonymous-I-want-to-sell-you-something comments. Instead, I read heartfelt advice and support. I'm touched. Thank you so very much. ~Diana

The Divorce Diet

The Divorce Diet

Things in my marriage went from bad to beyond horrible. I can't write a lot about what happened because there's a criminal trial in January. I don't want to take a chance that anything I write somehow gets back to my soon to be ex-husband.

I've retained a divorce attorney and am working on getting the massive amount of paperwork together for the attorney.

My husband is living somewhere else. He was in jail for three days, but managed to post bail. I have no idea where he is now but he can't come with in 1,000 feet of me without a police escort. Of course, I'm not an idiot (in spite of what he has told me for 24 years). I know the TRO and no-contact order are just pieces of paper.

In a way, what happened to me last week at the hands of my husband, as traumatic and painful and as it was, turned out to be the best thing that could happen to me. It made me realize and accept that I'm married to a lunatic. The only thing I can do is get out while I still have my life. 

I've been eating very healthy. I went to the gym yesterday. The first time in three months. I have a new reason to get healthy and strong. The next time a man attacks me with his hands and a gun, I want to at least have a fighting chance. I don't want to feel weak and helpless.

I'm learning to shoot a gun. I grew up in Alaska so I know gun basics, but I haven't shot a gun since I was 12 years old.  I joined the shooting range and have been there three times this week. I took a 2-hour safety class with an instructor at the shooting range. The first hour was how to protect myself and avoid an attack. The second hour was gun basics and how to shoot. I've been back twice to target practice and get use to handling a gun. I purchased a gun, but there's a 10-day waiting period (six more days). I've also applied for my concealed weapons permit but there's a thirty day waiting period for it. I own a .44 Ruger Super Blackhawk pistol. My dad used it when he would hunt moose as protection from Grizzly bears. I practice with that but also the shooting range has many rental guns to use for practice.

I have plans to take Krav Maga classes, the official self defense system of the Israeli Defense Forces. Basically, it's how to fight back doing whatever it takes to protect yourself. I'm going to check out more about the classes this weekend.

I weigh 210 and by the first of the year I plan to be in the 190's. I've already decided I don't ever want to weigh 125 or 135. I'm thinking 155-160, but only if I can maintain a large amount of muscle mass at that weight. It's no longer how I look in my clothes or looking cute. It's now all about being as strong and powerful as possible. 

My whole life has change, but please don't pity me. I'm sure you're thinking,"oh poor Diana!". Yes, poor Diana for taking 24 years of abuse from a crazy man, but I'm different now. A loaded gun to my head has changed me. I'm in survival mode now. I will get through this, and I will not let him win by killing me.

The Divorce Diet

The Divorce Diet

Things in my marriage went from bad to beyond horrible. I can't write a lot about what happened because there's a criminal trial in January. I don't want to take a chance that anything I write somehow gets back to my soon to be ex-husband.

I've retained a divorce attorney and am working on getting the massive amount of paperwork together for the attorney.

My husband is living somewhere else. He was in jail for three days, but managed to post bail. I have no idea where he is now but he can't come with in 1,000 feet of me without a police escort. Of course, I'm not an idiot (in spite of what he has told me for 24 years). I know the TRO and no-contact order are just pieces of paper.

In a way, what happened to me last week at the hands of my husband, as traumatic and painful and as it was, turned out to be the best thing that could happen to me. It made me realize and accept that I'm married to a lunatic. The only thing I can do is get out while I still have my life. 

I've been eating very healthy. I went to the gym yesterday. The first time in three months. I have a new reason to get healthy and strong. The next time a man attacks me with his hands and a gun, I want to at least have a fighting chance. I don't want to feel weak and helpless.

I'm learning to shoot a gun. I grew up in Alaska so I know gun basics, but I haven't shot a gun since I was 12 years old.  I joined the shooting range and have been there three times this week. I took a 2-hour safety class with an instructor at the shooting range. The first hour was how to protect myself and avoid an attack. The second hour was gun basics and how to shoot. I've been back twice to target practice and get use to handling a gun. I purchased a gun, but there's a 10-day waiting period (six more days). I've also applied for my concealed weapons permit but there's a thirty day waiting period for it. I own a .44 Ruger Super Blackhawk pistol. My dad used it when he would hunt moose as protection from Grizzly bears. I practice with that but also the shooting range has many rental guns to use for practice.

I have plans to take Krav Maga classes, the official self defense system of the Israeli Defense Forces. Basically, it's how to fight back doing whatever it takes to protect yourself. I'm going to check out more about the classes this weekend.

I weigh 210 and by the first of the year I plan to be in the 190's. I've already decided I don't ever want to weigh 125 or 135. I'm thinking 155-160, but only if I can maintain a large amount of muscle mass at that weight. It's no longer how I look in my clothes or looking cute. It's now all about being as strong and powerful as possible. 

My whole life has change, but please don't pity me. I'm sure you're thinking,"oh poor Diana!". Yes, poor Diana for taking 24 years of abuse from a crazy man, but I'm different now. A loaded gun to my head has changed me. I'm in survival mode now. I will get through this, and I will not let him win by killing me.

Survival of the fittest

Survival of the fittest

I really want to talk about my divorce and the domestic violence case, but the prosecutor's office and my attorney have told me to keep quiet. Anything I write, whether email, text or even this blog, can be subpoenaed for the trial. Even though I would only write the truth, it's best if I keep quiet. Someday I'll talk about it, after the criminal case trial is over, but right now, I have to remained silent on this topic.

Instead, I'll talk about my new focus...my health! For the last several weeks, during all the drama in my personal life, I've tried to eat healthy, but I've failed miserably. I haven't had any binges, but I haven't tracked my food or been very careful about what I was eating. I've only gone to the gym once in the past several weeks (and I thought I was going to die!).

My logic was that I was going through a very traumatic experience and it wasn't the right time to worry about my weight.

All I can say about that logic, s-t-u-p-i-d!

What really woke me up was the class I went to on Thursday. In addition to my gun training and my weekly shooting range practice, I also wanted to take self-defense classes. A guy at work told me I should try Krav Maga. I mentioned it in a previous blog. It's the Israeli Army and Special Forces self-defense training. It's basically street fighting. Krav Maga is Hebrew for hand-to-hand combat. There are several centers that offer this training. The dojo I went to also has Crossfit, Taekwondo and Zhumba classes.

A girlfriend and I went to the trial class. I was worried I wouldn't be fit enough for the class. After we signed up for our free class, we were sent to one of the rooms to wait for the instructor. I looked around the room and noticed mostly women, several of them were very overweight (at least as heavy as me or even heavier). There was fun music playing and I felt okay, I won't have any problem. If these women can do this, I'll be fine.

My relief was short-lived. The Krav Maga assistant instructor that was assigned to help us came into the room and said we were in the wrong place, this was the Zhumba class!

He took us down the hall to another large room. I knew immediately I was in big trouble. Everyone was very physically fit, all were height and weight proportionate and muscular.  I was by far the fattest person in the room. In fact, I was the only fat person in the room. My girlfriend that was with me is 5' 6" and weighs 145. She walks every day at lunch for one hour (rain or shine). I walk with her sometimes (and she walks fast). I'll be walking with her every day from here on out. Especially after what I went through in this class.

OH-MY-GOD! That was the hardest, most difficult, most physically challenging class I've ever taken in my life. I was really into high-impact step aerobics in the 70's and 80's. Ha! That was baby exercise compared to Krav Maga.

I literally thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. It's very fast moving. In between the different moves they teach they have you do things like running, push ups, stomach crunches. All the things I really hate.

The moves they focused on in our class was punching, foot work when punching someone, how to throw a punch, and how to fend off a knife attack.

The punching was really hard. They taught us how to stand with our feet to give us the best balance, and how to throw our entire weight into the punch. We were in pairs, and one person would hold a padded board against their chest while the other person punched it. I punched it so hard that by the end of the class my knuckles were raw, with the skin peeled off (I'm getting some gloves or at least the wrap thing the instructor was using).

Before the knife attack training the instructor showed us a surveillance video on youtube of a real knife attack that happened this year in China. It was in a public area in broad daylight. A 24-year old man attacked a 28-year old woman, trying to steal her purse. There were people standing by, but they didn't help her. He stabbed her over 50 times and killed her.

After the video, which was very disturbing, we were taught how to fend off a knife attack, using fake knives. That hurt even more than the punching. We used our forearms to knock the knife out of the assailants hand. The force of the forearm against forearm was very painful. The instructor assured us we'd get use to it and we wouldn't break any bones.

The thing about this class is that you don't play gentle. When you smack your assailant's arms, you smack it like you really mean it. When you punch the padded board your partner is holding, you hit it as if you were in a real fight for your life. You play for real. The idea is if you get into a situation where you need to protect yourself, you'll know what to do.

The instructor even gave me a couple one-on-one lessons. I told him what had happened to me and how helpless I felt. He showed me some moves I would never have thought about on my own. Even if you're pinned down on the floor with someones full body weight on you, you still have options on how to escape.

My girlfriend and I are going to sign up for the classes. I'm going with the one-year option. It's a bit pricey, but by committing to a year, there's quite a bit of savings. It's for unlimited classes.

Probably the most difficult thing, besides the running and push ups, was the instructor telling us that we needed to be light on our feet. You need to be able to move quickly when you're being attacked. At 217 pounds moving quickly is almost impossible for me.

Which brings me to my latest weight loss plan. Weight Watchers. I signed up last night online, and this morning I'm back to the meetings. After Weight Watchers, I'm going to the gym. Then home to mow the lawn.

This is really about survival. It's about being able to get away from danger if I need to. If I can't get away, then it's about being able to fight back. It's put a completely different spin on why I need to lose weight and be healthy. It's no longer just being concerned about having a heart attack or getting some horrible illness because I'm fat. It's not about wearing cute clothes. It's really about being strong and being able to defend myself. Who knew it would literally take a gun to my head to get serious about losing weight?

Not a good week

Not a good week

My first week back on Weight Watchers was a bust. I just wasn't into it. I thought my mind was ready to embrace exercise and eating right, but my lackluster efforts proved me wrong.

I really don't know what's wrong with me, but I feel completely exhausted all the time. Every day getting out of bed is a huge effort. Thoughts of going to the gym in the morning are quickly squashed when the alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. I turn off the alarm, roll over and go back to sleep.

Some of my friends are telling me it's depression, but I don't feel unhappy. Actually, it's quite the opposite. My home is so peaceful and calm now that my husband is gone, that I relish in the silence. Since he's been gone (November 8), it's like an evil spirit has left the house. There's no screaming or anger or fear of being yelled at or fear of doing something wrong.

If anything, I'm much happier than I've been in years. Of course, I have the normal and some not so normal fears of getting divorced. There's the huge financial mess to deal with, a criminal trial for my husband that's scheduled in March where I have to testify. The fear of the unknown, like where will I be living in six months, as well as the fear that someday my husband will come back when I least expect it and do what he he threatened to do on November 8.

In spite of all of that, I think I'm handling it pretty well. I just don't know why I'm so tired. Of course, the weather isn't helping. The Pacific Northwest in December is hideous. Dark, raining ALL the time, dark, gray skies and it's miserably cold at a constant 42 degrees. Sometimes I wonder if the outside thermometer is stuck since it never seems to move, unless it's a few degrees colder.

I can't wait to get through this week. I'll be heading to Palm Springs on Saturday. That's Palm Springs, California. A few people have thought I was talking about Palm Springs, Florida. My Palm Springs is just a two and half hour flight, and when I step off the airplane it's like stepping into a slice of heaven. The sun and warmth do amazing things for my spirit.

My skinny girlfriend that I'll be staying with has already asked me what I wanted to eat to keep me on plan. She plans on stocking her fridge with Weight Watcher friendly foods. Which is what she eats normally anyway. Which is why she's a size six.

I'm only going to be there five days, but we have plans for a couple hikes in the canyon. I'm actually taking my hiking boots with me this time. The tennis shoes weren't sturdy enough as we climbed over boulders and some very rough terrain. Plus she walks every day for exercise.

I haven't mentioned my sister for a long time. I didn't see her for about six week in the fiasco that was happening in my life, but now I'm back to my regular visits. She's doing fine. She seems more content these days. Always smiling and laughing, rarely does she cry anymore. There hasn't been any improvement in her situation. She still can't talk and is completely paralyzed on her right side. I think after a year she's finally accepted this is her life and being the strong woman she is, she has decided to make the best of it. I guess I can take a lesson from my strong, beautiful sister...make the best of a bad situation.


Okay, off to work for me. I'm going to attempt to post in the early mornings this week. We'll see how that goes. 

Not a good week

Not a good week

My first week back on Weight Watchers was a bust. I just wasn't into it. I thought my mind was ready to embrace exercise and eating right, but my lackluster efforts proved me wrong.

I really don't know what's wrong with me, but I feel completely exhausted all the time. Every day getting out of bed is a huge effort. Thoughts of going to the gym in the morning are quickly squashed when the alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. I turn off the alarm, roll over and go back to sleep.

Some of my friends are telling me it's depression, but I don't feel unhappy. Actually, it's quite the opposite. My home is so peaceful and calm now that my husband is gone, that I relish in the silence. Since he's been gone (November 8), it's like an evil spirit has left the house. There's no screaming or anger or fear of being yelled at or fear of doing something wrong.

If anything, I'm much happier than I've been in years. Of course, I have the normal and some not so normal fears of getting divorced. There's the huge financial mess to deal with, a criminal trial for my husband that's scheduled in March where I have to testify. The fear of the unknown, like where will I be living in six months, as well as the fear that someday my husband will come back when I least expect it and do what he he threatened to do on November 8.

In spite of all of that, I think I'm handling it pretty well. I just don't know why I'm so tired. Of course, the weather isn't helping. The Pacific Northwest in December is hideous. Dark, raining ALL the time, dark, gray skies and it's miserably cold at a constant 42 degrees. Sometimes I wonder if the outside thermometer is stuck since it never seems to move, unless it's a few degrees colder.

I can't wait to get through this week. I'll be heading to Palm Springs on Saturday. That's Palm Springs, California. A few people have thought I was talking about Palm Springs, Florida. My Palm Springs is just a two and half hour flight, and when I step off the airplane it's like stepping into a slice of heaven. The sun and warmth do amazing things for my spirit.

My skinny girlfriend that I'll be staying with has already asked me what I wanted to eat to keep me on plan. She plans on stocking her fridge with Weight Watcher friendly foods. Which is what she eats normally anyway. Which is why she's a size six.

I'm only going to be there five days, but we have plans for a couple hikes in the canyon. I'm actually taking my hiking boots with me this time. The tennis shoes weren't sturdy enough as we climbed over boulders and some very rough terrain. Plus she walks every day for exercise.

I haven't mentioned my sister for a long time. I didn't see her for about six week in the fiasco that was happening in my life, but now I'm back to my regular visits. She's doing fine. She seems more content these days. Always smiling and laughing, rarely does she cry anymore. There hasn't been any improvement in her situation. She still can't talk and is completely paralyzed on her right side. I think after a year she's finally accepted this is her life and being the strong woman she is, she has decided to make the best of it. I guess I can take a lesson from my strong, beautiful sister...make the best of a bad situation.


Okay, off to work for me. I'm going to attempt to post in the early mornings this week. We'll see how that goes. 

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

I'm back....

I'm back....

It's been almost two months since my last post on Sept 2. It's been a very rough two months.

My marriage, which has had it's ups and downs over the years, reached a new low the past several weeks. It became so bad that I had a consultation with a divorce attorney. I learned some very disturbing things from her regarding what would happen to me financially. Without going into a lot of details, if I divorce it will destroy any hopes I had of a financially sound retirement. This is something I've worked towards for a very long time (I'm 57 and have been with the same company for 29 years). I've never felt more helpless and hopeless in my entire life to find out that everything I've worked for will be gone (well, more accurately, 50% will be gone).

I've still haven't decided what to do. After a weekend in a hotel, then seeing the attorney,  I returned home. It hasn't been pleasant. My husband changed the locks on the doors. I had to hire a locksmith to get back into my own house and have a police escort. That's just how bad it got.

After my father-in-law passed away the end of August, my husband lost his job the next week. During the same week he lost his job he fell off a ladder and broke his leg. It was a severe break that required surgery with screws and a steel plate. There's a lot more to this story than you're reading here, but some other things happened that caused our marriage to break beyond repair.

That, in a nutshell, is what's been going on with me. If you think your life is bad, just step into mine for a few days. You'll appreciate what you have.

Add to the above that I haven't even been near the gym in two months, I feel physically ill. I lost ten pounds and am down to 210, but it was from stress. I didn't lose it by eating healthy, but by being so freaked out about my life that I just didn't pay a lot of attention to food.

My plan the next few weeks is to just take it a day at a time. I can't walk around in a constant state of freak out. Tomorrow morning I'm hitting the gym in attempt to at least get some semblance of normalcy back into my life.

By the way, I'm dressing up as Nurse Ratched for Halloween. It just seems to appropriate. Remember this post, it was from October 24, 2008.

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin and new before pictures

My weighin at Weight Watchers was just as awful as I suspected it would be.

217.2

I've been weighing at home so this wasn't a surprise. It was still painful, especially because the woman weighing me in has known me from my high of 239 and my low of 152. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was humiliating to admit to another person that I've gained back most of the weight I lost.

I think this time will be different. I have a different goal and a different reason this time for getting to goal. At least I hope I value my life more than a bowl of ice cream or a cookie.

Weight Watchers was fun yesterday. It felt good to be back in a structured program. Plus, I LOVE my leader. She is wonderful, funny, kind, and very passionate about Weight Watchers. They have a new and improved program. They do this every year around this time. It's just a marketing ploy, but I'm okay with it.

I went to the gym yesterday. Because of the sprinting in Krav Maga I added the treadmill to my routine (which I hate). I'm just not a runner. Today my legs are killing me and my knees feel like they're about ready to snap in two. Major pain. I think I'll change the treadmill routine to walking and then run for 30 seconds, and gradually increase the running to a minute. Really if I'm running from an assailant, I'll most likely only be running for a minute or two, not 30 minutes. That's all we have to do in Krav, is sprint across the room, from one to five times.

I also hit the boxing bags for about fifteen minutes, in five minute intervals. Even though I was wearing my weight lifting gloves and the gym's boxing gloves, I still ripped the scabs off my knuckles. Punching those boxing bags is really a workout. My heart rate would soar up to 148 in about a minute. After fifteen minutes I was ready to pass out. Really a great workout.

Now for the dreaded pictures. These were taken in Palm Springs when my girlfriend and I went hiking in Palm Canyon, the weekend of Thanksgiving.



This is my future home. Once I get done paying for the divorce this will be all I can afford. :)

This is so I end with a pretty picture. This is Mickey, my cat. I took him with me to Palm Springs. He's sitting in the window of my room at my girlfriend's house. I love this picture.

Survival of the fittest

Survival of the fittest

I really want to talk about my divorce and the domestic violence case, but the prosecutor's office and my attorney have told me to keep quiet. Anything I write, whether email, text or even this blog, can be subpoenaed for the trial. Even though I would only write the truth, it's best if I keep quiet. Someday I'll talk about it, after the criminal case trial is over, but right now, I have to remained silent on this topic.

Instead, I'll talk about my new focus...my health! For the last several weeks, during all the drama in my personal life, I've tried to eat healthy, but I've failed miserably. I haven't had any binges, but I haven't tracked my food or been very careful about what I was eating. I've only gone to the gym once in the past several weeks (and I thought I was going to die!).

My logic was that I was going through a very traumatic experience and it wasn't the right time to worry about my weight.

All I can say about that logic, s-t-u-p-i-d!

What really woke me up was the class I went to on Thursday. In addition to my gun training and my weekly shooting range practice, I also wanted to take self-defense classes. A guy at work told me I should try Krav Maga. I mentioned it in a previous blog. It's the Israeli Army and Special Forces self-defense training. It's basically street fighting. Krav Maga is Hebrew for hand-to-hand combat. There are several centers that offer this training. The dojo I went to also has Crossfit, Taekwondo and Zhumba classes.

A girlfriend and I went to the trial class. I was worried I wouldn't be fit enough for the class. After we signed up for our free class, we were sent to one of the rooms to wait for the instructor. I looked around the room and noticed mostly women, several of them were very overweight (at least as heavy as me or even heavier). There was fun music playing and I felt okay, I won't have any problem. If these women can do this, I'll be fine.

My relief was short-lived. The Krav Maga assistant instructor that was assigned to help us came into the room and said we were in the wrong place, this was the Zhumba class!

He took us down the hall to another large room. I knew immediately I was in big trouble. Everyone was very physically fit, all were height and weight proportionate and muscular.  I was by far the fattest person in the room. In fact, I was the only fat person in the room. My girlfriend that was with me is 5' 6" and weighs 145. She walks every day at lunch for one hour (rain or shine). I walk with her sometimes (and she walks fast). I'll be walking with her every day from here on out. Especially after what I went through in this class.

OH-MY-GOD! That was the hardest, most difficult, most physically challenging class I've ever taken in my life. I was really into high-impact step aerobics in the 70's and 80's. Ha! That was baby exercise compared to Krav Maga.

I literally thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. It's very fast moving. In between the different moves they teach they have you do things like running, push ups, stomach crunches. All the things I really hate.

The moves they focused on in our class was punching, foot work when punching someone, how to throw a punch, and how to fend off a knife attack.

The punching was really hard. They taught us how to stand with our feet to give us the best balance, and how to throw our entire weight into the punch. We were in pairs, and one person would hold a padded board against their chest while the other person punched it. I punched it so hard that by the end of the class my knuckles were raw, with the skin peeled off (I'm getting some gloves or at least the wrap thing the instructor was using).

Before the knife attack training the instructor showed us a surveillance video on youtube of a real knife attack that happened this year in China. It was in a public area in broad daylight. A 24-year old man attacked a 28-year old woman, trying to steal her purse. There were people standing by, but they didn't help her. He stabbed her over 50 times and killed her.

After the video, which was very disturbing, we were taught how to fend off a knife attack, using fake knives. That hurt even more than the punching. We used our forearms to knock the knife out of the assailants hand. The force of the forearm against forearm was very painful. The instructor assured us we'd get use to it and we wouldn't break any bones.

The thing about this class is that you don't play gentle. When you smack your assailant's arms, you smack it like you really mean it. When you punch the padded board your partner is holding, you hit it as if you were in a real fight for your life. You play for real. The idea is if you get into a situation where you need to protect yourself, you'll know what to do.

The instructor even gave me a couple one-on-one lessons. I told him what had happened to me and how helpless I felt. He showed me some moves I would never have thought about on my own. Even if you're pinned down on the floor with someones full body weight on you, you still have options on how to escape.

My girlfriend and I are going to sign up for the classes. I'm going with the one-year option. It's a bit pricey, but by committing to a year, there's quite a bit of savings. It's for unlimited classes.

Probably the most difficult thing, besides the running and push ups, was the instructor telling us that we needed to be light on our feet. You need to be able to move quickly when you're being attacked. At 217 pounds moving quickly is almost impossible for me.

Which brings me to my latest weight loss plan. Weight Watchers. I signed up last night online, and this morning I'm back to the meetings. After Weight Watchers, I'm going to the gym. Then home to mow the lawn.

This is really about survival. It's about being able to get away from danger if I need to. If I can't get away, then it's about being able to fight back. It's put a completely different spin on why I need to lose weight and be healthy. It's no longer just being concerned about having a heart attack or getting some horrible illness because I'm fat. It's not about wearing cute clothes. It's really about being strong and being able to defend myself. Who knew it would literally take a gun to my head to get serious about losing weight?