Tater Psych

For nearly a semester, I majored in psychology and from time to time I analyze others and myself. Or if I'm analyzing someone who did something bad, I profile them. I also watch a lot of Criminal Minds. 


I have been single for a long time, six nearly seven years now. I ended things and despite my persistent singleness have been happy with that choice.  I look at it as I saved myself a ton of money and future awkwardness if we shared custody of a kid after divorcing which I feel like that's where we would be if I hadn't broken things off  (or in an unhappy marriage). Truthfully, I had stayed with that guy too long and no one in my life thought too highly of him. He was a nice guy, but not right for me.  Luckily, I did not have to deal with any physical abuse or infidelity (that I knew of).

I did not date in high school. I wish I could say my parents wouldn't let me or I was too focused on school or in the words of Clueless's Cher "high school boys- as if!" I wanted to date in high school; my parents probably would have allowed it, but I didn't.  No one was interested in me. I hung out with the boys' basketball team for three years and unfortunately instead of that making me seem attractive to them it gave them a protective vibe. Which was good in some ways. When I made the switch to be a trainer and worked with the football guys as well, none of them harassed me the way they did every other trainer. But it also meant, I was getting harassed by any of the football guys.

By the time I got a boyfriend, I held on. I held on for nearly five years. He was mostly a nice guy but I was annoyed with his need to get drunk and/or high every weekend for no other reason than to get drunk and/or high.  More than once I thought of breaking up with him, but something like an upcoming sporting event would make me hang in there.  We would have a great time at the game and I would stay.  I also realized that I was not high on his priority list.  Finally, I got to the point that instead of hoping he would propose, I was scared to death he would. I had actually thought about moving in with him because I felt like we would need a trial run before we got married.  I'm not clear cut into whether or not you should live together before you get married, but I did want to be sure enough in my relationship that I didn't treat living together as a test. That thought made me start to seriously reconsider the relationship. I had to admit to a lot of things.  One of the things I admitted to was that I was still with him because I didn't think I could do any better and thought being unhappily with him was better than being alone. The trial run thought, the whole lack of self-esteem thing made me really question whether those were good reasons to continue a relationship.

Then one night we were supposed to work out together at my clinic and I cancelled on him to baby-sit my godson Landen. We worked out often and Landen was my godson and therefore a high priority in my life.  He was incredibly mad about it and I knew right then and there, that was it. If something had happened to Landen's parents (my cousin and her husband), I was responsible for raising him and he acted like one missed workout was a huge inconvenience? Uh, no. After a back and forth of a couple months, we'll try to make it work, we're broken up, now we're on a break, we finally broke up.

Now through the grapevine and technology, I know he's married and has a baby (and at least a couple of years ago, his friends liked me better than the new girl). I'm actually good with that because I don't want to be married to him.  I felt pretty good with myself and I sincerely believe I would rather be single than be with the wrong person.  I have seen too many people get married because "it was time." In fact one of my cousins gave me that exact reason for marrying their spouse.

I feel like my self worth did not make it out entirely intact. I've always been a chubby to fat kid, teenager, then young adult.  The ex boyfriend made a few comments from time to time about a shirt being too small for me and then something un-weight related that when I talked about my family I was boring (my family is chock full of  scandal so not sure WHAT that was about). When I was with him, I gained about 30-40 lbs. When we broke up, I probably gained another 30 lbs. I attempted a few dating type ventures, but my overall feeling was "why would someone even want to be with me?" I had gained enough self worth to know I shouldn't stay with someone like my ex, but I wasn't at the place where I felt like I was worthy to be with anyone.

I have come to the point in psych-major-for-a-semester awareness where I realize I was sabotaging myself. I could shove anything into my mouth and then sit on my butt because I didn't care enough about myself to treat myself right.  If I didn't think I was worth enough to take care of myself, why should anyone else? This thought isn't about trying to land a man, but it's about treating myself like someone who deserves love. I am a Christian and believe that Jesus died for our sins. God loved me enough to sacrifice His Son for me, but I can't love me enough to take care of myself?

I have started to care a little more about myself.  I have lost weight, gained muscle (thank you #2011pushupchallenge), and gotten more in shape. I have also started caring more about my appearance. Doing home PT, I got into the habit of throwing on scrubs and tossing my hair up and that was it. Now that I see my coworkers every day and my patients have better eyesight I take a little more time with my appearance. It's actually bugging me (and pleasing me) that a few of my shirts are probably two sizes too big and extremely baggy. I feel like I'm almost to the point where I might try the whole dating thing. I feel more confident and I like myself better. I don't kid myself; I have a long way to go, but to quote an old shampoo commercial, I'm worth it.

Tater in the Dressing Room

In general, I do not watch a lot of reality TV. Some of it I think is insipid; other shows sound interesting, but I already watch a lot of TV. You have to cut back where you can. I would love to write for living so I like to watch scripted shows. Every once in awhile, I get drawn in to a "real" TV show. On the Food Network, I love seeing Ace of Cakes  and my new Sunday addiction is Cupcake Wars. I know, I know. Of course, the fat girl likes shows about cake. I'm also a little addicted to HGTV, HouseHunters International particularly. My other "real" show I love is What Not to Wear. I was beyond excited when bloggy friends of mine knew a blog friend that was on the show recently.

What Not to Wear is a show I tend to gorge and starve on though. Right now I am in starvation mode because the hotel does not have TLC. One of my very infrequent complaints about my extended stay hotel is the selection of channels (no TLC, A&E, or Comedy Central, but I have Lifetime, USA, HGTV, and the Food Network).  I do remember weekends with marathons on of  WNTW  that I would have to turn the TV off in the midst of a commercial in order to do things like, ironically enough, get dressed.

With this in mind, I am aware of bad fashion choices of others and my own. I have been losing weight and have been ecstatic about it. I just got work clothes in August/September because I worked in scrubs before so things like pants had to be bought. Even then I was down from my heaviest, but now my pants and shirts are pretty big on me. It leaves me conflicted because I love seeing that these things are too big on me which is a nice change from utilizing any speck of elastic or spandex in the fabric, but WNTW has taught me wisely that swimming in your clothes is not flattering.

Still, I hesitated. I want to lose more weight and buying clothes in between would be a waste of money. I reconsidered this briefly when stopping at the store and had to rescue my pants from sliding down my hip. On Friday, I wore the same pair of pants (they weren't dirty or smelly) when I drove from Houston to Austin to go to my adorable godson's birthday party.  I arrived at my cousin's house and my mom and my sister both declared my pants too baggy (awesome compliment in this instance).

On Saturday, we went to the outlet mall in Round Rock and popped into Lane Bryant. I decided to try on pants. I went a size smaller than the pants I had gotten for my job interview last July (a size smaller than I had been previously) and Mom talked me into the next size down as well to take into the dressing room. I also saw a dress that I absolutely loved, but there were only four dresses on the rack- one two sizes bigger than the last dress I had bought there, one four sizes smaller, and one three sizes smaller. I took the three sizes smaller as it was  the same size as the smaller pant size I was trying.  I tried on the one size smaller; they fit and were still a little loose. I tried on the two sizes smaller and they fit- snugly, but I could breathe and move with everything appropriately buttoned and zipped. I danced out of the dressing room to show Mom and Tori.  Then I tried on the dress. It fit tight across my chest (the ladies are on the large side), but it fit! It is the smallest dress I've bought in probably five years if not longer!  I have absolutely no place to wear it at the moment, but it looks really pretty hanging in my closet.

Tatergirl!

I'm a brat. In the past when people in my life have gone on an healthy trend, my reaction has been to dig my heels into the sofa and pull up a gallon of ice cream.  In other words, I threw an overeating hissy fit. It did nothing  to diminish their efforts, but for whatever reason their efforts made me decide to self-sabotage.

To diminish the glare of my brattiness, I've had obnoxious people lecturing me about their healthy habits. Most of the time in some tiny piece of my pouting brain, I recognize that the person has good intentions or is concerned about my health, well-being. At the time though, I heard "you are a fat slob and should be taking advice from me because I am amazing and thin (even if they weren't) and so healthy."

I may have a little problem with being defensive.

Bearing that in mind, I've tried to be low key with the healthier lifestyle. Knowing how easily I slide into rebellion, I want to not be obnoxious to others. I want to lose weight and be able to run without dying.  Those are my main goals.  So far, they've worked.  The scale has declined another couple of pounds and I've been able to increase the run time in my run/walk/crawl.  I focused mostly on exercise in my attempt to be healthier, but have been adding in the diet stuff in a very low key, not restrictive way. Remember the brat? She gets UGLY if you take away her chocolate. My diet plan has been adding stuff actually.  More veggies and more fruit. I've also been doing some switches.  Chips and dip changed to veggies and dip (reduced calorie salad dressing).  This weekend  Ben and Jerry's ice cream changed to Ben and Jerry's FroYo.

I started this blog for two reasons. One was to try to keep myself writing. I would love to write for a living but  get easily distracted so I have committed to writing in the blog at least once a week in order to keep myself accountable, which is the other reason for the blog. I'm trying to keep myself accountable without being obnoxious.  I'm posting my run/walk/crawls and am letting several people I know know that I'm planning on running a  5K in the hopes that I will not back out.

Yesterday/today, I had something pretty cool happen.  I decided to update my profile picture on Facebook and Twitter. I have gotten so many compliments.  One of my best friends told me that she showed people she worked with my picture from a friend's wedding about three years (and at probably my heaviest) and my picture from yesterday and how much weight I had lost. I was so excited and unbelievably flattered.  As I told her, I blushed over the phone.

Like, I've mentioned before I had no idea how much I liked genuine support before I started this. Alsot, I'm starting to like the results of the exercise.  That crazy #2011pushupchallenge had me checking my own arms out as I drove home today (also, I'm way into checking out the arms of others).  I've been able to do more without getting as tired as I used to.  I know the better reason is that I'm healthier than I used to be, but still riding high on the compliments, I like the way I look more. I have more goals to meet for my physical well-being and I think meeting them will help my emotional/mental well being as well.

Tater Goal

I might have a goal. That is a goal that is more specific rather than do stuff that's good for you and move your butt.

I found a run (  http://www.active.com/running/fredericksburg-tx/fredericksburg-wildflower-5k-and-10k-run-and-walk-2011 ) and I think I'm going to try to run it.  The run does not happen until the end of April which gives me 2 months ish to prepare. I love an excuse to go to Fredericksburg. Plus, it's a wildflower run, it'll be pretty.

I've been running since February. Running is a loose term.  Trying to run would be more accurate. I walk, I run for a count of 60-70 seconds, walk until I recover, repeat and then walk at the end.  I'm up to five minutes of running. Today, I tried to up and on one run minute I counted to 90; I won't give myself any extra credit though because the next "minute" went by very quickly.

My next step is to try to consistently run for a count of 90 seconds.  Once I do that without collapsing, I plan on upping it until I run more than I walk. Then I need to make sure I can actually go the distance (dramatic running reference). I have my steps in mind so now I have to see if I can make them.  I'm not sure if I'll be able to do this, but this may help kick-start what I hope will be a long lasting habit.

Tater Control

Like many people, numbers ending in fives and zeros seem significant. With that in mind, I passed a new milestone.  I'm now in a lower bracket weight wise!  I know the anonymity of the internets should protect me but some people I know in real life may read this as well so I'm not posting the actual weight, but yays!

I'm apparently really into challenges now.  I signed up for another one.  In addition to the push up challenge, I started the lunge challenge which is 300 lunges every week.  I started out the gate gung ho on that one.  Apart from demonstrating a lunge or two to patients, I have not done a lunge on purpose in longer than I can remember. Monday I decided to do 50. Ouch. Not bad at all that night, but the next day I was definitely feeling the burn.  Since then I've been 10'ing and 20'ing my way to 300. I'm up to 110 (I think; in this path to self-discovery, I realize I suck at counting) and I may not make it this week, but I will next week for sure.  The push-ups get done for sure. It may be 1158, but they get done.  55 today (22 down; 33 to go).

I took a leap of faith in September and took a job in Houston about 4 hours away from my hometown. It was the right decision in so many ways.  I love the city. I LOVE my job. I was absolutely miserable doing home health and hated my job to the point I hated physical therapy. It had nothing to do with my bosses or the company. It was the situation- the endless driving, the sitting in parking lots calling people, the knocking on the doors of empty houses that were SUPPOSED to have homebound people in them.  The new job was a good call. In other ways, it's been rough.  I've been living in an extended stay hotel with my cats and paying the bills on my house in CC which I am trying desperately to sell. On a weekend back in CC, I woke up via a phone call from my stepmom that she thought my dad had had a stroke and was on his way to the hospital.  The next day we made the decision to donate his organs.  Getting through the holidays was rough and being in Houston alone was rough as well. More nights (and days) than I care to think of I would cry a lot, big snot tears.

In a strange way, these challenges have helped me.  I miss my dad so much and cannot do anything to change that.  My house has not sold yet and as much as it frustrates me, I cannot force someone to buy my house.  What I can do is get on my hands and knees and do push-ups. I can run/walk/crawl. I can cuss a lot while I hold a plank. I've been fat since I was a kid and it'll take a while for that to change, but this is something I can actually decide to do and control the outcome.  This morning I missed my run/walk/crawl because I hit snooze too many times; I rode the recumbant bike for 10 minutes instead.  Not nearly the same workout, but something. None of  this helps my other problems; my dad is still gone, my house is still for sale, but completing push-ups or lunges or whatever is something I am able to control whether I do or not.  

Changing habits from when Tater was a tot

I love TV. Love. LOVE.

I hear or read about people saying how they just do not have enough time for TV. Or that there's nothing good on TV.  Have you never watched Criminal Minds or Burn Notice? They are amazing.

Admittedly, I am behind on my current TV shows.  I live in a hotel at the moment and sadly, not only am I limited to about 25 channels, but I also have no DVR. I'll catch up from time to time online or when I go back to CC where my DVR still records things like a champ.

That aside I still watch a lot of TV. I catch a few current shows and lately, I've been addicted to West Wing which I've been watching on DVD thanks to my sister who has spurred my addiction.

In addition to my love of TV I also like to read, write, and play on the Internets. Oh wait,  I also love sports (ahem, watching them that is). In other words, I love to sit on my ass.  This is where the couch tater-ness comes into play.

A true and committed addict, I am not giving up my lovely TV and other activities. I'm changing positions (that's what she said). Not all the time, but I'm trying to keep moving during part of my TV time.  Granted at the moment I'm sitting on my bed watching a movie.

However, I've been fairly successful  for the past few weeks at doing something while watching TV. I'll do my push-ups (#2011pushupchallenge) every other day. I do some yoga poses and planks. Some nights I work my muscles harder than others, but I do a little something.  Likewise, I feel stronger some days. I'm excited to be able to tell  a difference in my strength and endurance.  I can hold side planks and front planks for 60 seconds fairly easily, but still feel challenged.  My yoga poses have gotten better and more steady which may mean ::gasp:: an improvement in balance. I do what I can for strengthening, balance, and flexibility all in front of the TV.

I'm venturing outdoors as well a little more often also.  I'm also up to 6 minutes or running when I'm doing my walk/run/crawl.  Not that those 6 minutes are consecutive, but I'm recovering more quickly (i.e. less crawl time) and needing less time to rest before I start my running minute again.

As frustrating as it can be to notice minimal changes to my BMI, I did see the scale move a good 4-6lbs this last week and have noticed clothes fitting a bit looser. Also, I'm feeling muscles in my stomach; I knew they were in there somewhere! I have a long way to go, but I feel like I have at least found the path to start.

Tater Rolls

I was hoping for this, but never thought it would happen. Ironically, I spend my day telling people how great it is and how much it helps.  But for me, never saw it actually

Exercise feels good. A good couch potato would never admit to such a thing, right? Yet, I left work with a slight headache (I did pop a couple Tylenol for that) and a little tense and now 1.6 miles ran/walked/crawled, my remaining sets of push-ups, a plank pose, and a few stretches and I feel better. More relaxed even. How did this happen?  Chocolate and TV and blobbing out on the couch (or bed since I'm currently couch-less) are supposed to make me feel better. This exercise thing may have its good points.

The endorphins can stay.