Showing posts with label clothing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clothing. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

The dreaded...Plateau Paranoia.

Ooooooooooh we’ve all been there.

You wake up and take the long way around the scale in the bathroom because you haven’t seen the numbers move in weeks. Maybe your work/friends/canoeing lessons, whatever, have you over-booked and your workout schedule has been out of whack.  It’s possible you’ve been caught as a repeat offender to some cheat meals.  Or you know what, you could be doing exactly the right things—working out, eating well, sleeping like a sweet-cherub baby—and you still fall victim…to the PLATEAU.

Speaking as an experienced Nervous Nelly and a Worry Wart, the second I feel like my progress is slowing; I jump into the Plateau Paranoia.
“What am I doing wrong?”
“Why is this happening?”
“Oh well, guess I should just eat all of the French fries in the world…”

NO, NO, NO, no, no, no, no, and I mean no! We have to see these levels of our progress from the bigger picture. Step back into the world view and see what everyone else is seeing because, I kid you not: you’re probably looking for the wrong things to give you that healthy-body-awesome-work cred!

I’m positive my husband is tired of hearing me complain over the past few weeks about how I’m feeling stuck (and of course, he says I’m full of nonsense—thanks, Jordan!) but being honest, my schedule has been really tight, so my workouts have been sporadic and my meals improvised—but I haven’t really been doing anything wrong. And I definitely haven’t done anything BAD. We can’t punish ourselves for our bodies doing their natural thang…which involves leveling out sometimes! And just for that sucker punch in my self-conscious center, two of my gym girls, who I consistently see progressing and looking gorgeous, complimented me this week! (Thanks Katie B. and Sara B.!)


SO I give us all two GREAT options to get out of our heads:
1) Get back in the gym!
- Now let’s not go crazy, I don’t mean it’s time to get weird and live in the gym. BUT, next time you’re in there, maybe talk it out with your trainer. It could be time to change up the routine. Or when was the last time you pushed for a PR?  And what the hell, have a little fun!

2) Get back in the kitchen!
- This is usually where I find the best ways to jump-start my metabolism again with something local, fresh, and new. Creativity in the kitchen is like the kryptonite to Plateau Paranoia!! Check the CSA situation in your area or look up the local farms. We’re SO happy getting our box of goodies weekly from Robson’s Farm. ;)

Then you can come home to a sweet meal of wild caught fish and local tomato salad!

And realize you’re NOT ACTUALLY IN A PLATEAU AT ALL! Your clothes fit better, people think you look slammin’, and now you have all kinds of food and training options! BOOM.


On the Horizon (super soon!) for THIS PRIMAL YOGI:


We have new Paleo recipes coming, updates on the home garden, yoga routines to help your weight-lifting woes, and regular posts to keep you happy and entertained. Saaaaweeet!

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Grr...urg...LOVE,
This Primal Yogi 

Friday, November 30, 2012

Skinny Jeans and Squat Cleans


*We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a moment of success*
(A note to the faint of heart: this entry is literally me describing putting on a pair pants.)


So I woke up this morning thinking it was Thursday again.
That just lets you know how the day started. I over slept, and woke up twisted like a pretzel so that my arm felt like tingly-jelly as I brushed my teeth. There was no food for breakfast or for me to throw together a lunch, and I forgot again that the lizard needed crickets.

It was a morning.
And then, as I hunted through my drawers and the clean laundry, I came to the distressing realization that: I had no pants. Seriously, NO PANTS. Every shirt I have ever owned—let alone worn in the past week—was clean and ready to go, but all leg coverings had somehow remained in the laundry bins stowed away in the basement. I scurried around the house in a pants-less frenzy as the cats watched me in their nonchalant manner, surely thinking to themselves, “Rachel, dear: pants are for peasants.”

I knew of only one pair of jeans, stowed away. And I knew they didn’t fit. And I knew that the last time I tried to put them on…I’m pretty sure they laughed at me. The gray-skinny-distressed-jeans looked up at me as I tried to yank one side to the other, willing the zipper skyward…and they laughed at me.

And then maybe I cried.

But in this morning’s mood, I said screw it, this’ll be a great trip down Self-Deprecating Road and I’ll have one more reason to be QUEEN OF THE GRUMPS today. As I slipped the left leg in, I had a flashback to where the jeans started to get too snug last time. I held my breath and couldn’t look down. Somehow, however, the jeans kept sliding. I accepted the fact that I now had to introduce the right leg to said Smug Jeans, and I believe I audibly harrumphed, “yeah…that’s not happening.”

Yet, I pointed my toes and went in. Sheepishly, I pulled those bad boys up to the “danger zone,” also known as my monstrous thighs. (*NOTE: I love my big mamma jamma thighs, because my quads/hammies are the only muscle groups in my body that have always been strong and awesome and ginormous.*) This would usually be the point where I have to do a little dance to shimmy the jeans up an inch at a time until falling over in despair and later crying into some buffalo wings. But with a surprising pull, Not-So-Smug Jeans hiked up over my (not too shabby) caboose.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”
I swear, Siddha, (the most apathetic of the three cats) started a slow clap for me.
I almost didn’t want to take that last step and wrangle the button. At that moment, I knew good and well that once I slid that button in and model-stomped-Tyra-style in front of the mirror, I would have to admit it myself that the hard work is paying off. And once you admit that…you have to keep doing it.
My future of awesomeness was held for just a moment in the button clasp of my jeans.


Did I back down? Did I let the fear of having to be accountable for my results/health/wellness/waistline make me quickly escape those jeans and dig out some dirty guachos?


Do I look like a girl who will waste a nice ass day?!


Look out world, me and these jeans are coming for your squat cleans!
(Okay, really I’ll be in spandex.)



Thank you for getting dressed with me.
*We will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.*

Grr...urg...LOVE,
This Primal Yogi

*NEXT ON THE BLOG*

They Say It's Your Birthday (for real this time!)