Ambition, or Why My Legs Were So Sore Yesterday

I decided that over my three day weekend, I would get outside and get fresh air and be as active as possible. On a role from last week's big loss, I left work early on Friday and went to the Berkeley Marina for a walk out on the pier and around the park. Berkeley's fishing pier must be about a mile long and Friday was the day for fishing, apparently, because it was packed.

I felt fantastic when I was done. I went home and made a healthy dinner of roasted chicken and green beans. Later that evening I had a little bit of ice cream at my mom's house, but nothing to break the bank over.

Then began my weekend of experimental cooking (more to come on that topic, perhaps tomorrow), hanging out, obsessively weighing myself, eating way too many Baked Lays (I seriously need to realize that a bag of potato chips is a bag of potato chips, regardless of how they're prepared, nobody should eat a whole bag in a day) and cleaning.

On Sunday I decide to go for a hike. I've heard of this place in the Oakland hills called the Huckleberry Botanic Regional Preserve. It's supposed to have rare plants and just be a gem of the bay area that you never hear about. I did my research. According to Bay Area Hiker, the 1.7 mile loop around the preserve is easy.

I'm raring to go. I'm excited. I haven't been hiking in years and I used to love it (granted, I was in high school). 1.7 miles, I'm thinking, that's nothing! I know from past experience that hiking alone can be a little spooky, but I'm determined. I'm going to overcome my fears and get in some fresh air and exercise!

I begin the trail and it's beautiful. Twisted oak trees, ferns, a small narrow path, perfect shade:

Birds are chirping, leaves are rustling...all the noises of the woods that freak me out! But damn it, I'm gonna do this. Not far into the hike I hear movement. My heart begins to beat hard. I look behind me and see three deer. Two small ones began hopping away, but he big one is just staring me down, which, of course, is making me freak out more. I decide to just keep walking and the deer runs away. 

I'm thinking to myself, "Shit Amber, it's just a deer, calm down." But another part of my brain is thinking, "What in the world was I thinking? Why did I come out here?" 

I keep on moving and it's hard. The ground is uneven and my legs and feet are hurting, but not extremely. I walk and walk and walk and walk and then I hit a point where it's mostly uphill. And then there's wooden steps embedded into the dirt hills. Damn it! But I can't turn around at this point, I've gone too far. But those steps damn near killed me. When I got to the top of the hilly part my heart was beating hard and fast, and not from forest fear, from actual exercise! I had to take a break, so I sat down on the top step, not caring if a tick bites my ass. From here on out, the only thing I can think is that I gotta make it out of there alive!

I know, it's all much of an over reaction. But I really felt that way. When I finally got to the end of the loop I was so happy and I felt so triumphant! I did it. It was hard and scary and dirty but I did it. I encountered wild animals, uphill battles, and uneven surfaces, but in the end, I made it.

And you know what? I think I might do it again. Not soon, but perhaps in a few months. I think I was a bit ambitious for a person who just started walking regularly a couple of weeks ago in city parks. I do like to get out into nature however, so I'll keep on checking out more parks. Hopefully easier ones.

So that was my weekend. I didn't count calories much, and with the exception of the potato chips and ice cream, I ate healthy meals. I'm craving some fast food or junk food bad right now but I'm trying to exercise willpower. It seems to me the first couple of weeks of a diet are the easiest, but then I get tired of preparing healthy food and measuring and weighing everything. I feel like I have to explore a million options when I should just stick to a few good for you staples. Then I become obsessed with weighing myself and calculating calories and all I can think about is what I'm gonna eat next and how many vegetables I can possibly shove into one meal, and if I mess up at all then the 8 pounds or whatever it was that I lost will come back and then it's back to square one...etc...

Does anybody else feel the same? Do you become obsessed with dieting and then end up failing? I'm so afraid I'm gonna fail because lord knows this isn't my first time on this trip, yet here I am...again. I try to tell myself that even when I mess up, it's okay, as long as it's not a habit. It's not a failure if I mess up one day and then pick myself back up. But I'm scared and I can't stop my brain from thinking "diet diet diet" all the time. I even planned menus and counted calories in my sleep last night.

These are the issues I must work through. That's why I'm here journaling this.