Tag: echelon

Habitual Excuses

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.
Photo by Vlada Karpovich on Pexels.com

It is all in the habits that are built through time and effort that equate weight loss or the healthy weight or size or feeling your desire.

I start. I stop. I start. I stop. I start. I stop. I start. I have a magic number, don’t we all. But truly not sure if my number is above or below my possible fantasy.

I know what to do and how to do it. We all do. Life never gets in the way of success. It is us. There are good alternative decisions everywhere and time abounds for movement. It does. It comes down to us. Always. We stand in our own way and diet gurus capitalize on our own lack of discipline.

On the last day of the parent teacher conference, life hit me hard. I have had this parent in my life for almost two years. I have seen her happier and moving easier. Not today. The parent admitted to just having a stroke. Her movement is impaired and no longer can she work. Big. She is a nurse. Or was as she doubts that will ever be her path again. She is twenty years younger. It is obvious that care was not something she gave herself, but as a nurse she does know how to take care of the human body or was it the above excuses we make about foods and fitness plus the stressors of life that caused this scary period of her life. Who is to say. I teared up at her story. It could be anyone. Anytime.

So, I did what anyone with the “habitual excuses syndrome” does, I ordered pizza. I enjoyed it and today is a new day. Not of excuses or deprivation but one that copes with the good foods and special yummy choices without guilt. At almost sixty starvation is not my thing. I get bitchy. Let super models live that life. Last night, no guilt, which is new for me, as I usually have pounds of guilt added to my already full scale of weight. I realized that I try to build all the good habits at the same time and instead of pure success I am stuck in the partially proficient model. That never works. So, I am starting with my “almost gotcha habits.” For me I “almost gotcha” daily spinning, I “almost gotcha” on water intake, and on my weekly Weight Watcher meetings. I don’t almost gotcha perfect food choices, but I am pretty much sugar and low carb on most days. So, I am going to finish my February with water, movement, my weekly Weight Watcher meetings, (love the virtual option), and making better choices. Let’s call this cognizant eating. Right now, my crockpot is humming with pork ribs and sugar free sauce. Yes, this is ok, ask Weight Watchers and tomorrow in the crockpot will be chili. That will keep our small family fed for the week along with a chicken sausage night with Alexia sweet potato fries. Simplicity for our family of two, is key, due to my ability as a chef and my husband’s palate. So, with twenty to lose and my new understanding that all new habits cannot be built overnight as the diet gurus profess, the building habits slowly and completely will get me across the finish line, while still enjoying life, and staving off the constant excuses and guilt that comes with enjoying life, making a mistake, or just not feeling it that day because let’s face it until your needed healthy choices become part of your daily routine you will never be at the goals you dream of. Never.

So, write down your goals, start with the simple routines you can feel successful with, and keep adding new ones and follow through until it becomes a daily need. not a chore. May I suggest Weight Watchers if you need some guidance, they fit my needs, and have the healthiest relationship with food and life. Not Noom, not the Metabolic Guru, not intermittent fasting, nope Weight Watchers. This is not a paid ad. Just saying.

http://www.weightwatchers.com

No Basket, Flowers, or Outside Air. Just 200 Rides.

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

No fanfare. Just pride. You see, I don’t fall off my combo Echelon/Peloton system. Onto 300 rides which I will hit before my 60th and pondering the real Peloton for my 60th. I deserve it! Easily. Entering the rare live class will be a treat and truly just a hunt for a shout-out. One can hope. But even without the children shouting my name, it will be a victory. Weight comes and goes but fitness or heck, just movement, lasts a lifetime. As for the extra handles and such they are departing at a snails pace but going in the correct direction. A slimmer self and the utter joy my rides bring to me, is all I can ask for in this, my fitness life. Plus the real Peloton. Besides the echelon needs to make a trip up North so I don’t miss my summer rides.

Alternate Image

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

We have mental images of ourselves. I am skinnier. This of course is odd. Most have the inner picture of our bodies as larger. Some all over. Some in certain places. But larger. I think smaller in an overall general body image, until I found a mirror on a bad day in workout gear. That is a picture no one needs to see, especially the owner of this body. Nope. I kept looking unable to see me, just a foreign old lady that was anyone but me on any given day. I wanted to run and hid but instead I realized the true power of the before picture.

Now, my fantasy ideal of the skinny me has been replaced by reality, which I am now painting a tad worse in my minds eye. But it is the picture in my weary old head that now keeps me motivated to stay on points, fast, drink lemon water, and detox with hibiscus tea and get on my bike. I notice about three ounces gone…but I continue as fat was not built in a day, and overall health is the goal. Not a size. But surely not the old hag in the mirror. Somewhere in between, with my continued motivation I will succeed not only in health but coming to grips with 60 and the obvious changes it brings, even to those of great beauty. We all suffer a bit. It shows physically but we really are dealing with the mental struggle of age compounded with a bit of extra skin.

With each new day. on this journey, I say positive affirmations, pray, and look at myself in a new way. I see the changes. Others will as well, but at three or four ounces of loss, I understand their difficulties. Now, my change is just for me and my pride. Others may just see my acceptance and glow of growing health, and that might be the best gift. Along with twenty pounds.

Nooming Part 2

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

I am back on Noom. I left. I did. Which makes this post worthy of a prize or an escalated Noom blogger award. 🤔 I left because I could do this on my own. Suddenly cocky with eight pounds gone. This was my inner thought and money saving idea. Suddenly after fighting since childbirth (thirty-one years ago) I could do this alone and save the money and annoying check-ins from my personal person or bot. Not sure which, but in this age of technology and with eight pounds lost, why did I care, if there is a real face with my consults? I don’t. Eight pounds lost and now eight pounds gained left to my own devices and fell through a mushroom cloud of stress and the outward “I am O.K” that I gave out to my world aka my seventh grade classroom.

I am back. Why? Noom works. There I said it. It really does for those that need their hands held while foods, friends, stress, and life let us down. Noom works.

So onward with the color system, quizzes, and chat check-ins with my mysterious coach or a brilliant bot. Again, who knows or cares. Weight loss is about buy-in, desire, cheerleaders galore, recipies or direction etc. After you find that in your form, whatever that looks like, the rest is up to you.

Thank you Noom. I have come back to shake the weight for good and reap the benefits for myself and my family which is priceless.

Now I have to learn to cook, better. Much better. Got an app for that? Readers if interested head over to Noom. No, I am not paid. It just works. Feel free to share, follow, and of course like if health and weightloss is your “jam.” Be on the lookout for more from me as I dive deep into essays on my successes and failures to keep me on the straight and narrow. And as always be prepared for the truth and a chuckle. https://www.noom.com

Sorry KWL

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Truth be told. I can be a b****. While my life revolves around my family. I can be a bit much. Call it demanding. Not b*****. Better. Years ago my son was diagnosed with a back disease. Fast track to today and he has a million dollar back and hypothetically is the bionic man. It is genetic. But I have fought mine off, until this week. Pain brought me to my knees. To make it through the week before spring break with my 6th grade mayhem of love, I just kept saying, “What would Kyle do?” Then I cried, thinking of all the times, I have been critical of anything in his life. Not truly realizing that slap pain into life that does not abate takes over until you can just do so much and sometimes the fluffy life stuff does not matter. Truth. I skipped two showers. Could not do it. Did. Not. Care. I smelled of powdered shampoo, sweet oils, and the fragrance that was the closest to my grab on my make-up table.

I am sorry KWL.

So, I have faltered. Worst ever. But that is that. Now, I finally recover forever. I tend to overdo, over diet, and fail. Enough. Life is finite and being on a roller coaster is loopy and unproductive.

Onward.

Few steps back. Yes. But forward. Forever. The toughest part is where I am currently. Heating. Cooling. Resting. Walking at a snails pace for 10 minutes. The beginning. It’s where my FOMO sets in. Frankly, without social media there was no FOMO. It would be good to toss it aside right now, but not gonna try. Too much between food changes, back self-care, and trips to the chiro. So, my mindset is now changed to without healing there is nothing. And nothing is not acceptable.

No FOMO.

So, instead of running around and enjoying. I am canceling plans and scheduling me time. Healthy care, healthy eating, manicure and pedicure, hair and chiro, chiro, chiro, stretch, stretch, stretch, walk, walk, walk. While I heal (6-12 weeks total) I will putter around the house aka clean slowly and mindfully, organize my spring school clothes, aka as fashion, and put me first this time which will allow me to put what’s important to me back to its proper first place status now and forever and get over this crazy coaster I have been strapped into for the last twenty years. It’s time.

Ailment in a nutshell.

My back. But not. It is a pelvic rotation that is over 35 mm from normal. 8mm is severe. How have I survived twenty years. Who knows. Obviously, this inner movement tugs on the back. Greatly. Causing extreme pain especially when sitting and ooh, driving is a killer. But in my three chiro appointments I have seen relief. Since PT has been apart of my life for this. I know the drill of bridges and pelvic tilts. Yup. Three times a day. Everyday in accute stages. This classified. Other non-medicated methods are THC oil and Formula 303 (starting tomorrow) a natural muscle relaxant. Naproxyn, is on order for pain. Again, no addiction, thank you. If any of this becomes magic. I will blog and share. Heck. Gonna blog and share anyway to keep me going on this journey. Which kicked off today saying goodbye to my Echelon and Peloton friends for a minute. This was sadness. Five rides away from 200, 50 more miles away from my race goal. Poof. But today I got out, walked to a short Peloton program. While sharing with you about this pain that haunts, but could be worse I hope to gain insight and lend a positive spin on pain as the reality is mindset is part of the process. Millions are in pain daily. Maybe I will crack the code or just make you laugh along you own journey. One that only you can shoulder and usually in silence. Why? As I am finding out unless you can make pain happy or positive, no one wants to know. It must be catchy.

The contagious factor.

It’s not. But unless you experience relentless pain. You have no response other than to buck up, take an Advil, stretch, lose weight. Etc. Idiots. I was one.

I am sorry KWL.

Gave Up Influencing

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

My mid-life crisis seems to come and go depending on the day. It should be over. Technically. But mine has hunkered down to stay. I am either acting younger than my age (three instagrams and my flirting with influencer) keep laughing. I am back to one and grounded in the reality silver influencer is not happening. Or I am acting a bit over my age. A shopping at Chicos moment hit me right after devouring an Old Navy sale (love their stuff) for teaching. But truly the Chicos stuff is cute. Sigh. Or is it “the me” I am running from? Too many questions before coffee or my food that I consistently track to lose pounds that might have moved in forever. No Keep tracking. They will leave. Did I mention I spin? Yes, the cool girls exercise that blasts fat. Or in my case keeps it for the cold Arizona winters. Ah, 58. My new tread compounded with the bike will guide me through this mess. I think. Have to buy it first. Which brings me to Christmas. I overdid it. For everyone. It brought me true joy. The hubs not so much. It’s ok, on a teachers salary I will have this paid off by retirement. I got this. Screw the money. I made people happy. By people I mean the grandnugget. He was in heaven. His face. Every child should have his Christmas. The kid was thrilled as well, as he does not buy anything for himself, so I felt good. Like a magic elf bringing joy. While, not a fan of debt. This was worth it. Especially, for the hubs, as I brought him into 2022 with earbuds so he can retire the string hanging from his phone. The horror.

I digressed. Alot. Sorry. But the above frames my mid-life panic. Yesterday. I became a real-life tutor Mrs. L’s Tutoring and an Avon lady. Why? Oddly, not money. Ok. None of that would hurt, but a rich Avon lady is not my fantasy. Nope. Both digressions from the eventual retirement. As I can’t do this teaching thing forever. It is my calling, so to speak, without collar and celibacy. But everyear gets worse. I quit my weekly theater group, as $20 bucks a week is clearly not my scale. If you want the arts, I got you, but a real stipend please. Not babysitting. Just can’t. I am better than this. Sorry, if this offends those woke individuals worrying about the students feelings. I am too. But basically free ain’t working for me. Bring on the eyeliner.

I can picture retirement two ways on the cheaper end. Shoot me. Or with cushion. I want cushion and a full life of writing, tutoring, and possibly Avon. It’s fun. Why not. Now I need to try the product. Yesterday, in all my crazy stressful moments of overspending, I gained a true pause on what I want. That’s good. I want retirement, I want travel, I want the quiet of Neebish, the outlandish fun with the grandnugget and the ability to say no on my terms, not my bank accounts. This pushed me out of mid-life crisis into acceptance of my age and my desires to always be busy…busy…busy.

Now, back to my book (on chapter 2) and the moral of this chaotic dribble. Know your age, accept your age, do anything that makes you smile, spend too much, save, do you…and enjoy everyday. We are not guaranteed a tomorrow and my many tomorrow’s ahead will be readying for a lifetime of Chicos. And that’s ok! Good-bye midlife confusion. With my new acceptance and creation of a plan for the after-life of teaching, which includes, my writing, my forever tutoring, spinning, treading, Neebish, and my Avon…If throw in Paris and the hubs and this is a winning combination!

BTW here is my store. If you use the product. Please order. My top picks: eyeliner, and waterproof mascara. Give it a go or please share.

https://www.avon.com/repstore/TLivingston?rep=TLivingston

Tread on The Cheap

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

I feel like a giddy schoolgirl waiting for the cutest boy in school to walk by my locker. Or something like that. Feelings of long-ago now compared to a piece of equipment. About right. My Echelon tread is heading my way. I can’t wait. Currently, a proud owner of the Ecehelon Sport, which has turned my exercise experience upside down and made me a true believer and one who needs my daily dose of the benefits of fitness. This, alone was my ah ha of the year.

I learned to exercise and like it, enjoy it, or at least tolerate it. Nevertheless, of the category of delight or not. It is a daily habit. Most of the time.

To push myself I found virtual races. Yes, you pay. But that medal and your group keep you going. You ride, walk, run whatever and log your results. Currently, I have wandered through Colorado and next up Ireland. Never in my life did I think I would ride 118 miles. If I can do this anyone can. During this time, I lost weight, felt fitter, and slept better. Not miracles, just work with my Peloton App (Bless these instructors) and my gear. Lesser than my bougie friends and riding partners…butmaybe someday. If not that is OK as the ride is the same. It is. I tried the real enchilada and the only thing I want is the screen. That’s it. I can wait.

To up my game, enter the tread, my new baby. Still enroute. My goal is a mile or two every morning on the tread and my daily 5-9 miles on my bike in the afternoon. Picture fabulousness in my goals of slimming. I am.

So, wherever you are in your fitness journey. Hang-in there. Challenge yourself and enjoy! It worked for me and one year later I am still at it with a vengeance!

Gearing Up for Greatness Or Sleeping in Yoga Pants

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Sleeping in yoga pants while not uncomfortable makes it unbearable to sleep, as I am focused on my fitness goals. As school began I fell off my bike. Obviously, not in the literal sense. The year began in its usual worldwind way that can only be described to other teachers for true understanding. No complaints, just pure exhaustion. I do not come out of this funk until October. Once this month hits I an ready for action. Every. Single. Year. It is like a marathon runner hitting the runners euphoric state. I am there. And here I stay. But the adding back of riding and elliptical (need a double dose) brings me added morning stress. So, yoga pants. Jump up and jump on the elliptical for twenty minutes and a couple miles. The bike is after-school where every excuse sets in. Yup. Every excuse has gone through my head. I even dare to cook more just to find a reason not to pedal. No one has been killed yet and our pup has put on the pounds. He is usually my only taker of my feasts. Don’t blame him, but check on him often. I need cooking classes. In another country. With alcohol. Lots.

I really do not understand those that look happy about exercising. I want to be like them. But they laugh at a six month streak. That is a bonus to them. Like adding a new training to their already perfect daily schedule. Yup. Note to self schedule a triathlon, soon. Never. I would drown. So back to my bike and my elliptical schedule. A few months from now I will feel sassy and want to add to my basic day. But probably won’t. But you never know. This girl has dreams.

Upping My Game

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

This year has been, well sloppy, casual. A bit eh. We all know that. I thought I was doing it ok. Working out, eating ok, but I decided to look in the mirror. Really look. Take stock. Someone should have warned me. While, this moment had to happen. It hurt. But it should have been, just a day of reckoning, as opposed to a pulling the covers over my head moment. I did this to myself. I knew. I was just hiding under well lit filters.

Ok, my hair has been grey since thirty and hidden under a myriad of colors. I just got tired of changing my reality. But no matter, how great your hair is, and mine qualifies for true silver greatness. Thanks dad. The color ages you. Truth. Moving on. Eyes filled with laugh lines. Check, and I like my sweet mappings of my soul. A forehead line that is beyond Botox. Obviously, I must walk around with a quizzical look 24/7. My ship is now S.S. Nip and Tuck Land. I am waving that on, as I am cheap, and afraid of pain. So, to combat further drooping. The technical term used. Lovely. Insert ugly emoting and eye-rolling. My facialist suggested this gadget that works on the neck and eyes. It might be working. But truthfully, I have my doubts, but going to keep up with this electrode skimming routine. You never know. The hubs has seen this process only once. He stood and stared. I stared back and said, “Do you really want to know? Because I can tell you the science behind this thing if you have an extra twenty minutes?” He ran. Good. The whole process of tightening my face is rather horrifying. So, until they make a lift that is budget friendly and pain free. It is the natural aging look for me. Now, my mom has zero big lines, my grandmother zero big lines, me, I got my dad’s Irish face. Can’t hide a thing. So, I am assuming this eye-lid discoloration and thinning lashes is also an Irish trait. Why hurt one group with such vengeance? Is it because we know how to have fun in life? Anyway, one day my lids were this odd reddish-blue color and lashes invisible. This was horrifying. No getting rid of this disaster. Just more creams, covers, prescription lash growth serum, makeup, but not too much, or it will age me. Or so they say. Yikes. So, after many bottles, brands, skin care lines. I have settled to what works. For now. Next year. Who knows. Since, I do not get paid…but would welcome any product. I use Bare Essentials, everything and Armani for more coverage. Please, contact. Because we all need a 58 year old influencer in life. Hah. My facial products live in a constant level of retinol. Day and night. Some prescription, some from French Pharmacies, oh the heaven. Some drugstore. Yes, they work. But not on my forehead.

That was just the face. But while I was there I noticed my cheeks puffed. I look like a chipmunk when I smile, so I am giving up on my usual happy look, and I love to smile, and going with that RBF a la nose up high to slim the neck. It works, looking younger and kinda feeling myself for this age defying trick that works, only if you seated or posed against a wall. But, it works. Life gets in the way, however. Walking, working, bending, and trying not to smile are all too much. Back to the facial map of 58. Eh.

If my cheeks were my only puffed area, I would be fine. Nope the blinders are truly off, and I looked below my neck. The effects of 2020 are now obvious and while not alone. I have to step up my game. Not only for a “look” but a true realization that my puffy cheeks and other areas came from a love affair with carbs and sugar. I am addicted. I do not just enjoy the foods but think about them, plan meals around them, sneak extra, and feel guilt. Great. Rehabilitation, here I come. The difference in this addiction from others, is that we are all addicted to the hidden goodies, at some level. I am just extreme.

I am tackling this hurdle in steps. As cupcakes are akin to life, as is champagne, and the combo is heavenly. You can see this will be a challenge. Today, I gave up just bread. All. Good-bye. Now, a potato can still pass my lips. As well as higher carbohydrate fruit. The list of low carb fruit is truly depressing. Think berry and only berry. Good-bye orange, grapefruit, watermelon, grapes. Insert berries and only berries. Not happening now, I need time. On the 29th of June major groceries are entering our home, along with the word I cannot stand, cooking. Worse yet, with fresh ingredients that must be chopped. This is a whole different world and one that is necessary for success. If others can do this, I can as well. It can’t be that hard and I am choosing easy recipes. Really easy. On this date, good-bye all white flour, bread, and potatoes. But keeping fruit. My fruit. Great fruit. Sweet fruit. This is however only lasting a week. The next week. July 5th I will be between 20-30 grams of carbs and little to no sugar and learn to love strawberries. It can happen.

My goals are simple. First, not to kill anyone in my house during these first few weeks. Secondly, to lose weight. How much? Twenty would be great, twenty-five to thirty would take me into a look I have not seen in awhile. So, while the number is not carved in stone, eating in a healthy manner without the yo-yo gain/loss metric that is tied to carbs and sugar. My new life. A healthier life for the long-term that will give me the daily energy to chase 6th graders and head into the weekend and not collapse. It would feel great. As the fatigue and FOMO has got to go!

This bravery, to truly take stock, came from far too much eating on a road-trip, and the over absorption of true quiet and cooler temperatures. I thank and blame the quiet for this introspection and setting course a plan of action. Now, planning is simple, actually exciting and with every passing day I get a bit more nervous. Not about the plan, but the slip, fall, deep dive into a bottle of champs and a box of cupcakes. That is horrifying. There are no 12-step programs for loving carbs and sugar, it is left up to each of us, to find the inner strength and say goodbye. I am finding answers in books, facebook groups, and following keto lifestylers on Instagram. No answers. Just a bond. I have to find my own way on this journey. I will. If I can do my century ride. I can do anything! And besides, I do need to up my game! 😉

100

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Today, two days before my goal, I achieved my 100th ride plus 3. Do the math. By this time today, so have millions around the globe. So the special feel while not monumental to those riding for many years before the peloton, or in my case pechelon popularity overcame our world, is sweet.

This newbie found her groove and todays ride and pride was all mine. I did not take a live ride to pray for a shoutout and possibly fall of the bike if called out…No, I crossed my line for my own praise and satisfaction with a pre-recorded tabata ride. It was my perfect. I started for me and finished for me while singing “Fat Bottom Girl” at the top of my lungs, when I could breath. As proud as I feel I unfortunately spent most of the ride concerned about what’s next. Maybe everyone does, enter pelofondo…100 miles in a day. Right. This is the super extreme of home spinning goals. I salute all that survived the day as fitness is an addiction with the stakes only getting higher, riskier, and at a certain point possibly damaging. But I will take this addiction over many others that surround our society. It is obvious that with the popularity of fitness via peloton, pechelon or the other possibilities advertising for everyone’s passions, so are others. Will I ever pelofondo? Doubtful, but not out of the question. No, probably out of the question. Baby steps. 💯 is my today’s happiness and huge accomplishment.

Again, back to my thoughts during the ride…the what is next? Leaving this lifestyle is not an option, but my goals need to be realistic and not overtake my life. I want balance, health, happiness, the whole enchilada. I do not want to wake up and punish myself for not riding. That is not healthy. The instructors have become not only trainers but mental cheerleaders that allow me to push myself in all areas of life while spreading the reality of days will be days and some days we just don’t have it in us or even if we do we don’t as our bodies are needing rest. I want balance. The last two weeks have been double rides. I felt exhaustion and fighting for a number not a physical goal or enlightenment. But during the push I learned how much I can do, how much I love to ride and move my body. Now my work is on balance and a consistent better nutrition. As a member of WW for as long as I can remember I have always been at the moment of the last ten pounds, knowing full well what to do and how to do it…now that should be my goal. If I can do the rides, I can eat the right way, everyday. So, my numbers on the bike need to transfer to the numbers on the scale. So my new goal is ten pounds or so…200 rides by June and the addition of meditation, and barre to my daily workout All while trying to keep the balance and enjoying my workouts instead of chalking them off for the day which was necessary for this first testing round of goal achievement. I feel with the wisdom and strength of the trainers by my side, my favorites BTW are Robin, Alex, and Tunde and my go to rides are HIIT and Tabata. I know, crazy, right? This next go around will not only add to my numbers but include other options to my day and increase my saddle time from 20 minutes plus to 30 minutes plus on a daily basis so I build more muscle and burn additional calories. Now before all of you pelofondo achievers laugh, my ground zero point 100 rides ago was five minutes. Yes, five. I have come a long way and prouder than proud in my own quiet way.

Enjoy the ride, I know I have and will continue this passion.