This Week's Loss: 2.4 lbs
Total Loss: 15.2 lbs
Whoop whoop!! I am so excited I hit another 5 pound milestone. When I first stepped on the scale this week I was mildly disappointed because my 5 day gym regimen seemed like it should have paid off more BUT then I reminded myself that my eating habits over a school vacation week are somewhat less than stellar so the fact that I still hit my weekly goal is HUGE. Again, whoop whoop!
Now I would like to take a small break this week in posting about my own struggles with things and focus for a second on someone else: my husband. Now it isn't fair to sit here and detail Patrick's weight struggles as they are not mine to share, but I would like to talk about something else in regards to my darling hubby. Don't get excited thinking it's going to be a out all the juicy deets of our lives but more just a general acknowledgement of something I take for granted about him that was brought to my attention today while overhearing another couple at lunch.
I heard the woman behind me mention how she was thinking about having a cheeseburger for lunch. Nothing too alarming, right? Next, I hear her leech of a husband/boyfriend say "You seriously are going to eat a cheeseburger? You scarfed down bacon and eggs at breakfast and you want to eat a cheeseburger? Don't you think you've eaten enough fat today?". I'm sorry, sir. What the hell did you just say?!?!?! His poor belittled lady then replies that she should probably just get the grilled chicken sandwich to which her douchebag retorts "As long as you don't order French fries with it you might just save your body today". She casually mentions that she could add a little bit to her gym routine when he spits out the worst of his acidic comments so far..."Sure you could. If you weren't too lazy to go in the first place". I almost choked on my Diet Coke. Is this tool for real?!
I looked at this couple as I walked past them and the man/jerk/pathetic excuse for a human being was nothing to write home about. The woman/ verbal abuse victim was smaller than average and they had a very young child so chances are she is still battling the postpartum weight. It was disgusting to listen to.
Now most people know my feelings about sappy and lovey public messages and declarations of love via Facebook and such so I will try to not gag myself. Feel free to let me know if I am making anybody sick with what I am about to say.
Not ONE single solitary time has Patrick said anything remotely like this to me. In all my weight struggles and trials, he has never offered anything but unconditional support and encouragement. When I was sad about my one pound weight gain a few weeks ago and called him crying he said only the kindest words to me. In all the times I have been upset and angry with myself about gaining 2, 10, or even 20 pounds Patrick has been right there willing to console me while I spewed hurtful words at myself. Every time I come home excited about even a minor diet accomplishment he's there with a fist bump to let me know how happy he is for me. He's wiped away COUNTLESS tears about how another shirt doesn't fit or how I couldn't find a new outfit that didn't make me look like a tent. Every craving I've succumbed to and guilty pleasure I have thrown the towel into, he has been there to pick up the pieces. I have eaten obscene amounts of food in front of humans God bless him, he's never batted an eyelash.
Now yes, Patrick isn't small either, but that doesn't mean he has to be as supportive as he is. I know plenty of guys who aren't diamonds themselves only to expect their women to sparkle bright. I believe beyond anything else I this world that Patrick finds me beautiful and dare I day it, even sexy. That was one of the ways I knew Patrick was the one. Not one time did I ever feel uncomfortable in my own skin around him. There isn't one other person in this world who makes me as comfortable with my body as he does. Now maybe this is why I have never been incredibly motivated to lose all this extra. If I have someone who fell in love with me this way, why should I change? He doesn't expect it or even care if I change. He wants me to lose this weight and get healthy so I feel better about myself and happier with who I am. He wants me to do this because we want to start a family and he knows I can't/won't do that until I fix myself first. But not for one second do I think he would ever be disappointed in me for failing. He would only hate to see me disappointed in myself.
I don't believe my husband is perfect, but this is one instance he couldn't be more so.
So to that guy openly belittling his wife/girlfriend/sucker today, I hope you realize that you are the one person in this world that should be making her feel beautiful and wanted and instead you say hurtful awful things designed to guilt her into being skinny. Pathetic.
I'm done being sappy now. Whew.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Enemy, Thy Name is Elliptical
This Week's Loss: .8 lbs
Total Loss: 12.8 lbs
I was wicked on track this week. It is spectacular. Then I went to Pizza Hut for dinner on Friday night. And I ate pizza. With stuffed crust. Covered in meat. With cheesy breadsticks. And honey bbq chicken bites. So in essence, fat stuffed carbs covered in fat, with a side of fatty carbs, and another side of carb covered chicken fried in fat. WOW. That was a fail of epic proportions. Anyway, the fact that I still woke up the next day and still was down is something I am happy with and I really can't dwell on my mistakes. I just have to acknowledge that I ate immense amounts of foods that I shouldn't have and move on and try harder. (Though I do have to admit that even though I don't loooove Pizza Hut, every bite I ate on Friday was GLORIOUS.)
Now obviously this paltry .8th of a pound weight loss is not on par with the 2 pounds a week I need to average to reach my goal soooooo I found myself in a quandry. Obviously the Friday night carb/fat session was supremely helpful in me failing to meet my goal, but I also have not been doing everything I can in helping myself reach my goal. Diet is great and eating the way I have been is an obvious improvement over my previous disgustingness, BUT exercise goes a loooong way in aiding in weight loss. Since I did not lose what I wanted this past week, I decided I had better get my butt to the gym in order to make up for that other pesky pound or so that I wanted to lose.
Now you might be surprised to know that I don't LOVE exercise. That might even be a mild way to put it. I LOATHE exercise. BY exercise I don't mean to include all physical activity. I loved dancing. I really enjoy team sports. I would play soccer or volleyball as long as my overweight, underworked, out of shape body would allow me to. This stuff is fun. There is a point. You kick a ball and score a goal. Every game has a purpose: score points and win. I am a competitive person. I like to win. I get that. What I don't understand is why anyone would choose to stand or sit on a machine of pure torture for an hour or so without really going anywhere or accomplishing anything. Treadmills, bicycles, ellipticals...rationally I understand their purpose. They work certain muscles, target certain areas. Blood flowing, heart pumping, blah, blah, blah. BUT what I don't understand is how any rational, sane, logical person can do these machines for any amount of time longer than 5 minutes and not want to poke their eyes out of their sockets just to switch things up.
I legit have not stepped foot into the gym in a solid two years. Ridiculous, I know. Every month I pay money to Planet Fitness for the right and privelage to be able to use their gym and any and all such benefits that are included with that membership. A logical question to follow this statement would be "Caiti, why would you spend $20 a month to belong to a gym (plus a maintence fee in June) when you don't actually go and take advantage of what you are paying for?" Well faithful readers, here is the answer: I. Don't. Know. I guess cancelling the membership admits defeat and is another minor step in my backslide towards a life of sheer glunttony and utter laziness. I will admit to the gluttony, but laziness is hard to swallow. SO, every month when I look at my credit card bill I see that little charge that is essentially going to waste.
I always have excuses for going to the gym, none of them being the truth. I guess that's why they are called excuses. I don't have time, I hurt my leg yesterday, I have a cold, I have to get home for the dogs, I have to paint the fence, I have a bone in my leg, my chi isn't centered, Aquarius is in the wrong position in the sky, I don't have sneakers, etc. You understand...whatever makes sense to explain why I go home and sit my bum on my comfy couch and turn on whatever rerun of NCIS or Law and Order is on USA.
But I digress. On Saturday, after I saw the number on the scale, I made a vow to actually go to the gym this week. I really have no reason not to, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the way you look at it. I was pumped. I thought about it all weekend. I bought new exercise pants and shirt. I was ready. Until I woke up this morning. I was no lnger pumped. Going to the gym meant getting out of bed and going out in the snow and doing basically far more work than I wanted to on a school vacation day. I debated staying home, but I somehow managed to put on some exercise clothes and trudge out the door.
I was expecting Planet Fitness to be jammed since it is not only school vacation, but also a holiday, but there were plenty of empty machines. Woohoo. Now I don't know if you've ever been to the gym at 8 AM, but there are 2 kinds of people here at this time. Pretty, in shape, already fit people who work jobs that don't require them to be there at 8 AM and senior citizens. I swear to God. I was the only out of shape patron that wasn't at least 60. Awesome. Obviously, the pretty people can work an elliptical better/longer than I can, but I fear that all these senior citizens are going to be able to putlast me as well. Great...just what I need on my first foray back into fitness. To be outdone my Ethel and Fred.
Anyway, I climb on the elliptical and manage to not pass out after 10 minutes. I hit the 15 minute mark and debated calling it a day, because hell, 15 minutes is about a 1500% improvement over my previous 2 years' time. I sucked it up for another 20 minutes to manage a respectable (?) 35 minute total. I averaged between 3.1 and 3.8 miles/hour while spinning my legs to nowhere so I'll take it. I got off and felt dizzy and lightheaded from putting forth more effort into anything than I have in 2 years (isn 't exercise supposed to make you feel good?), so I steadied myself and hopped on a treadmill. I find an elliptical machine to be torture, but I find the treadmill to be slow, painful death. It's mind numbing. I tried to time myself by the episode of Frasier on Lifetime, but Kelsey Grammar has never been so un-funny as when I am on a loop of death. I pinched myself awake until I hit the mile mark and gleefully jumped down. Glad to be free of those devils. Whoop whoop!!
So one day really isn't anything to brag about so I have to keep this up in order to really reap the benefits. I have no idea how long I can do this, but hopefully 1 day isn't my streak.
Total Loss: 12.8 lbs
I was wicked on track this week. It is spectacular. Then I went to Pizza Hut for dinner on Friday night. And I ate pizza. With stuffed crust. Covered in meat. With cheesy breadsticks. And honey bbq chicken bites. So in essence, fat stuffed carbs covered in fat, with a side of fatty carbs, and another side of carb covered chicken fried in fat. WOW. That was a fail of epic proportions. Anyway, the fact that I still woke up the next day and still was down is something I am happy with and I really can't dwell on my mistakes. I just have to acknowledge that I ate immense amounts of foods that I shouldn't have and move on and try harder. (Though I do have to admit that even though I don't loooove Pizza Hut, every bite I ate on Friday was GLORIOUS.)
Now obviously this paltry .8th of a pound weight loss is not on par with the 2 pounds a week I need to average to reach my goal soooooo I found myself in a quandry. Obviously the Friday night carb/fat session was supremely helpful in me failing to meet my goal, but I also have not been doing everything I can in helping myself reach my goal. Diet is great and eating the way I have been is an obvious improvement over my previous disgustingness, BUT exercise goes a loooong way in aiding in weight loss. Since I did not lose what I wanted this past week, I decided I had better get my butt to the gym in order to make up for that other pesky pound or so that I wanted to lose.
Now you might be surprised to know that I don't LOVE exercise. That might even be a mild way to put it. I LOATHE exercise. BY exercise I don't mean to include all physical activity. I loved dancing. I really enjoy team sports. I would play soccer or volleyball as long as my overweight, underworked, out of shape body would allow me to. This stuff is fun. There is a point. You kick a ball and score a goal. Every game has a purpose: score points and win. I am a competitive person. I like to win. I get that. What I don't understand is why anyone would choose to stand or sit on a machine of pure torture for an hour or so without really going anywhere or accomplishing anything. Treadmills, bicycles, ellipticals...rationally I understand their purpose. They work certain muscles, target certain areas. Blood flowing, heart pumping, blah, blah, blah. BUT what I don't understand is how any rational, sane, logical person can do these machines for any amount of time longer than 5 minutes and not want to poke their eyes out of their sockets just to switch things up.
I legit have not stepped foot into the gym in a solid two years. Ridiculous, I know. Every month I pay money to Planet Fitness for the right and privelage to be able to use their gym and any and all such benefits that are included with that membership. A logical question to follow this statement would be "Caiti, why would you spend $20 a month to belong to a gym (plus a maintence fee in June) when you don't actually go and take advantage of what you are paying for?" Well faithful readers, here is the answer: I. Don't. Know. I guess cancelling the membership admits defeat and is another minor step in my backslide towards a life of sheer glunttony and utter laziness. I will admit to the gluttony, but laziness is hard to swallow. SO, every month when I look at my credit card bill I see that little charge that is essentially going to waste.
I always have excuses for going to the gym, none of them being the truth. I guess that's why they are called excuses. I don't have time, I hurt my leg yesterday, I have a cold, I have to get home for the dogs, I have to paint the fence, I have a bone in my leg, my chi isn't centered, Aquarius is in the wrong position in the sky, I don't have sneakers, etc. You understand...whatever makes sense to explain why I go home and sit my bum on my comfy couch and turn on whatever rerun of NCIS or Law and Order is on USA.
But I digress. On Saturday, after I saw the number on the scale, I made a vow to actually go to the gym this week. I really have no reason not to, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the way you look at it. I was pumped. I thought about it all weekend. I bought new exercise pants and shirt. I was ready. Until I woke up this morning. I was no lnger pumped. Going to the gym meant getting out of bed and going out in the snow and doing basically far more work than I wanted to on a school vacation day. I debated staying home, but I somehow managed to put on some exercise clothes and trudge out the door.
I was expecting Planet Fitness to be jammed since it is not only school vacation, but also a holiday, but there were plenty of empty machines. Woohoo. Now I don't know if you've ever been to the gym at 8 AM, but there are 2 kinds of people here at this time. Pretty, in shape, already fit people who work jobs that don't require them to be there at 8 AM and senior citizens. I swear to God. I was the only out of shape patron that wasn't at least 60. Awesome. Obviously, the pretty people can work an elliptical better/longer than I can, but I fear that all these senior citizens are going to be able to putlast me as well. Great...just what I need on my first foray back into fitness. To be outdone my Ethel and Fred.
Anyway, I climb on the elliptical and manage to not pass out after 10 minutes. I hit the 15 minute mark and debated calling it a day, because hell, 15 minutes is about a 1500% improvement over my previous 2 years' time. I sucked it up for another 20 minutes to manage a respectable (?) 35 minute total. I averaged between 3.1 and 3.8 miles/hour while spinning my legs to nowhere so I'll take it. I got off and felt dizzy and lightheaded from putting forth more effort into anything than I have in 2 years (isn 't exercise supposed to make you feel good?), so I steadied myself and hopped on a treadmill. I find an elliptical machine to be torture, but I find the treadmill to be slow, painful death. It's mind numbing. I tried to time myself by the episode of Frasier on Lifetime, but Kelsey Grammar has never been so un-funny as when I am on a loop of death. I pinched myself awake until I hit the mile mark and gleefully jumped down. Glad to be free of those devils. Whoop whoop!!
So one day really isn't anything to brag about so I have to keep this up in order to really reap the benefits. I have no idea how long I can do this, but hopefully 1 day isn't my streak.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Bringing my "A" Game
This Week's Loss: 2.6 lbs.
Total Loss: 12 lbs.
So this week is definitely a minor victory for me. After an incredibly disgusting 6 pound weight gain two weeks ago, I am back on the losing track. I lost almost 3 pounds and increased my total loss to up over 10 pounds. I was a little sad yesterday at the weigh in when the running the temple of doom, I mean scale, didn't acknowledge my milestone with those fun little star stickers. To be fair, I don't know if WW has eliminated the milestone stickers, but I really liked them so I hope that isn't the case.
I'm not unhappy with my weight loss since any amount of weight I lose is only beneficial, but I am feeling sort of frustrated. In the previous times I have done Weight Watchers I have lost about 20 pounds by this point in the program. 12 pounds is nothing to be upset and I am happy that I'm on a downhill slope, but it feels like it is going sooooooooooooooooooooooo slooooooooooooooowly. I guess for most people, 12 pounds is a pretty large chunk of the total amount of weight they have to lose, but for me 12 pounds is hardly even a grain of sand on the beach. In the grand scheme of the amount of weight I need to lose, 12 pounds barely tips the scales.
Part of me thinks it is definitely the new points values system. EVERYTHING went up in points. All my little 1 and 2 point items are now at least 3, sometimes even 4 or 5. Ugh. I get more a day, but taking into carbs and protein into account now definitely changes my diet and some choices I would have made before. Is this for the better? Probably, but I still might bitch every so often just because carbs are so wonderful and it hurts me to see food go up in value when I enter carbs into the calculator. Also, when I entered my weight into the tracker on my e-tools, it told me I was losing weight too fast AND it upped my points allowance for the day. I went from 51 points a day, down to 50, and now it wants me to start eating 55 points. Not a chance.
What I KNOW is hurting me is my "cheat day". I have always used the night I weigh in to eat some foods that I otherwise would not throughout the week. The last time I did Weight Watchers, every Wednesday night after weigh in, I would go out to dinner and definitely not stick to my points. I still lost 60 pounds from September to April (ignore the fact that I totally gained it all back plus some). This time, I weigh in on Saturday mornings, giving me what I have thus far taken to be a whooooooooooole day to enjoy foods not often enjoyed when sticking to a designated points limit. At first, I was counting my points for breakfast and lunch and then not really worrying what I was having for dinner. The past couple of weeks, though, there has been no tracking at any point. On Sundays, I would bring my own food to Mom's for breakfast and I made sure it was well within what I should be eating, but again, the past two weeks I have just eaten whatever Mom made. Toast, bacon, kielbasa, waffles, cinnamon buns. Get the picture? Monday-Friday I account for every bite of food that goes into my mouth, but I have begun to take wayyyyy too much freedom on the weekends. I know losing weight too fast isn't good, but I have a serious goal to reach and consider and really feel I need to step up my game.
I really want to be 75 pounds lighter by September and I only need to average a little ovr 2 pounds a week to get there, but it is really important to me to make sure I hit it. I have never really had a goal before. I just wanted to "lose weight" I still want to "lose weight", but this time it's bigger than that and I have to make sure I get smaller for it.
Total Loss: 12 lbs.
So this week is definitely a minor victory for me. After an incredibly disgusting 6 pound weight gain two weeks ago, I am back on the losing track. I lost almost 3 pounds and increased my total loss to up over 10 pounds. I was a little sad yesterday at the weigh in when the running the temple of doom, I mean scale, didn't acknowledge my milestone with those fun little star stickers. To be fair, I don't know if WW has eliminated the milestone stickers, but I really liked them so I hope that isn't the case.
I'm not unhappy with my weight loss since any amount of weight I lose is only beneficial, but I am feeling sort of frustrated. In the previous times I have done Weight Watchers I have lost about 20 pounds by this point in the program. 12 pounds is nothing to be upset and I am happy that I'm on a downhill slope, but it feels like it is going sooooooooooooooooooooooo slooooooooooooooowly. I guess for most people, 12 pounds is a pretty large chunk of the total amount of weight they have to lose, but for me 12 pounds is hardly even a grain of sand on the beach. In the grand scheme of the amount of weight I need to lose, 12 pounds barely tips the scales.
Part of me thinks it is definitely the new points values system. EVERYTHING went up in points. All my little 1 and 2 point items are now at least 3, sometimes even 4 or 5. Ugh. I get more a day, but taking into carbs and protein into account now definitely changes my diet and some choices I would have made before. Is this for the better? Probably, but I still might bitch every so often just because carbs are so wonderful and it hurts me to see food go up in value when I enter carbs into the calculator. Also, when I entered my weight into the tracker on my e-tools, it told me I was losing weight too fast AND it upped my points allowance for the day. I went from 51 points a day, down to 50, and now it wants me to start eating 55 points. Not a chance.
What I KNOW is hurting me is my "cheat day". I have always used the night I weigh in to eat some foods that I otherwise would not throughout the week. The last time I did Weight Watchers, every Wednesday night after weigh in, I would go out to dinner and definitely not stick to my points. I still lost 60 pounds from September to April (ignore the fact that I totally gained it all back plus some). This time, I weigh in on Saturday mornings, giving me what I have thus far taken to be a whooooooooooole day to enjoy foods not often enjoyed when sticking to a designated points limit. At first, I was counting my points for breakfast and lunch and then not really worrying what I was having for dinner. The past couple of weeks, though, there has been no tracking at any point. On Sundays, I would bring my own food to Mom's for breakfast and I made sure it was well within what I should be eating, but again, the past two weeks I have just eaten whatever Mom made. Toast, bacon, kielbasa, waffles, cinnamon buns. Get the picture? Monday-Friday I account for every bite of food that goes into my mouth, but I have begun to take wayyyyy too much freedom on the weekends. I know losing weight too fast isn't good, but I have a serious goal to reach and consider and really feel I need to step up my game.
I really want to be 75 pounds lighter by September and I only need to average a little ovr 2 pounds a week to get there, but it is really important to me to make sure I hit it. I have never really had a goal before. I just wanted to "lose weight" I still want to "lose weight", but this time it's bigger than that and I have to make sure I get smaller for it.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Up and Down
This Week's Loss: +1 lb
Total Loss: 8.4 lbs
I know it's later than usual, but I decided to tear myself away from "Unblock Me" (ever played this game...SUPER addicting) and post my weekly update. To do so requires a quick review of last week's post...
Review:
Potentially devastating medical news = TERRIBLE food decisions + SERIOUS lack of portion control = Weight gain
I didn't weight in at Weight Watchers, but I did get on our scale and the number was not pretty.
So now that we're all caught up...I went back to WW this past Saturday and I was up 1 pound from the weight I was the previous weigh in (not the previous week, but the previous time I had gone to a meeting and stepped on the scale.)
At first, my heart sank. I was really upset with myself. I had diligently counted my points everyday and never went over. It was basically the total opposite of the week before. No more junk (at least no more unadulterated inhaling of junk) and serious portion control. Fruits and veggies were back in the rotation. I wondered how it happened. I have had weeks where I have stayed the same or gained, but I always felt like I knew it going into the weigh in. I walked out feeling wicked dejected. (PS- The b*tchy lady behind the counter didn't help my mood AT ALL)
Once I calmed down and was able to actually process my thoughts and emotions (and not just scream "FATSO!!" to myself over and over) I realized something important:
Despite my lack of weighing in at weight watchers the weekend before, I still had braved my scale and noted a 6 lb. weight gain. Yup, 6 lbs. Frightening, I know, but it's reality. I HATED seeing this number, but it did make me face the truth. Every other time I have screechingly halted my diet train, I have always justified it to myself somehow. This time that didn't seem possible. I knew my eating had put the number on the scale higher and there was no other reason.
AND if I had gained 6 lbs. during my week of gross, BUT was only 1 lb. higher when I weighed in at WW, that means I was actually down 5 lbs. from the week before. So even though I was really sad that I had gained weight since I had last weighed in, I was really excited that I had lost weight when I tried. Not only had I lost weight, but I did so after failing miserably the week before. I don't know if that has ever happened with me before. I'm pretty sure that in the past I never would have recovered from a week last that. It only would have been the first stop on the road to more weight gain.
I felt much better by the end of the day and have done well points wise this week so far. We'll see on Saturday how everything pans out.
Total Loss: 8.4 lbs
I know it's later than usual, but I decided to tear myself away from "Unblock Me" (ever played this game...SUPER addicting) and post my weekly update. To do so requires a quick review of last week's post...
Review:
Potentially devastating medical news = TERRIBLE food decisions + SERIOUS lack of portion control = Weight gain
I didn't weight in at Weight Watchers, but I did get on our scale and the number was not pretty.
So now that we're all caught up...I went back to WW this past Saturday and I was up 1 pound from the weight I was the previous weigh in (not the previous week, but the previous time I had gone to a meeting and stepped on the scale.)
At first, my heart sank. I was really upset with myself. I had diligently counted my points everyday and never went over. It was basically the total opposite of the week before. No more junk (at least no more unadulterated inhaling of junk) and serious portion control. Fruits and veggies were back in the rotation. I wondered how it happened. I have had weeks where I have stayed the same or gained, but I always felt like I knew it going into the weigh in. I walked out feeling wicked dejected. (PS- The b*tchy lady behind the counter didn't help my mood AT ALL)
Once I calmed down and was able to actually process my thoughts and emotions (and not just scream "FATSO!!" to myself over and over) I realized something important:
Despite my lack of weighing in at weight watchers the weekend before, I still had braved my scale and noted a 6 lb. weight gain. Yup, 6 lbs. Frightening, I know, but it's reality. I HATED seeing this number, but it did make me face the truth. Every other time I have screechingly halted my diet train, I have always justified it to myself somehow. This time that didn't seem possible. I knew my eating had put the number on the scale higher and there was no other reason.
AND if I had gained 6 lbs. during my week of gross, BUT was only 1 lb. higher when I weighed in at WW, that means I was actually down 5 lbs. from the week before. So even though I was really sad that I had gained weight since I had last weighed in, I was really excited that I had lost weight when I tried. Not only had I lost weight, but I did so after failing miserably the week before. I don't know if that has ever happened with me before. I'm pretty sure that in the past I never would have recovered from a week last that. It only would have been the first stop on the road to more weight gain.
I felt much better by the end of the day and have done well points wise this week so far. We'll see on Saturday how everything pans out.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Snow Day Dilemma
Anyone seen the roads? I think that they have been misplaced under this large amount of white stuff. Ugh.
I sit here, home from work early and most likely will be home again tomorrow. I enjoy a day off as much as the next teacher, although, this snow day a week pattern we've got going is soon going to start cramping my summer. Lame.
Being home is sweet, to a point. But here's my issue with it. I want to eat. A LOT. BADLY. In my (hopefully) past days as an overeater, I would stop at the grocery store on my way home before the snow hit and fill a cart or basket with some snow day staples. Frozen pizza, Cheetos Twists, Ben and Jerry's, and candy- for me. For Patrick, I would buy a Pepperidge Farm triple layer cake. It was his present for snow blowing. Over the course of being home, I would munch and snack away, my eating hand in constant reach of some unhealthy (but wicked delicious) snow day snacks. Eesh.
So I went to the grocery store yesterday to do some general shopping and it was soooooo hard not to buy my wonderful snacks. I walked right past the Cheetos to pick up some Baked Lay's for Patrick. I did not stop to choose between Phish Food or Mint Cookie ice cream while picking up yogurt and bread. I skipped the pizza aisle completely and maneuvered past the candy when I was getting soda. My sad looking cart contained fruits and veggies instead of chips and ice cream. :0(
When I got home today I grabbed a bag of sliced apples instead of the Cheetos that normally would have rested on my counter. It took ALL I had not to stop at Hannaford on my way home from school and not hungrily grab what I wanted. This extra time home is killer on my cravings.
I HATE snow.
I sit here, home from work early and most likely will be home again tomorrow. I enjoy a day off as much as the next teacher, although, this snow day a week pattern we've got going is soon going to start cramping my summer. Lame.
Being home is sweet, to a point. But here's my issue with it. I want to eat. A LOT. BADLY. In my (hopefully) past days as an overeater, I would stop at the grocery store on my way home before the snow hit and fill a cart or basket with some snow day staples. Frozen pizza, Cheetos Twists, Ben and Jerry's, and candy- for me. For Patrick, I would buy a Pepperidge Farm triple layer cake. It was his present for snow blowing. Over the course of being home, I would munch and snack away, my eating hand in constant reach of some unhealthy (but wicked delicious) snow day snacks. Eesh.
So I went to the grocery store yesterday to do some general shopping and it was soooooo hard not to buy my wonderful snacks. I walked right past the Cheetos to pick up some Baked Lay's for Patrick. I did not stop to choose between Phish Food or Mint Cookie ice cream while picking up yogurt and bread. I skipped the pizza aisle completely and maneuvered past the candy when I was getting soda. My sad looking cart contained fruits and veggies instead of chips and ice cream. :0(
When I got home today I grabbed a bag of sliced apples instead of the Cheetos that normally would have rested on my counter. It took ALL I had not to stop at Hannaford on my way home from school and not hungrily grab what I wanted. This extra time home is killer on my cravings.
I HATE snow.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
1 Step Forward...
This Week's Loss: ???
Total Loss: ???
And unfortunately 2 steps back. I sit and write this post this morning instead of getting ready to go weigh in. I DESTROYED this week.
I was doing really well up until Tuesday evening. I didn't gorge at home services like usual and at like 5:30 still had 40 points. I went to the grocery store to buy the making for my soup for Wednesday night since it was my turn to host. I hadn't spoken with Patrick all day and while I was in the soup aisle trying to decipher which chicken bouillon powder I should buy (ummm...is there a difference?), Patrick call me and the only words that I hear before the call drops (thanks AT&T) are "We have a problem..." A problem?? What the hell does that mean?? Being the incredibly, calm rational person you all know and love me to be, I IMMEDIATELY jumped to the conclusion that Patrick was fired.
I abandon ship (or cart) in the soup aisle in front of the previously mentioned chicken bouillon (Ihad chosen Wyler's?) and ran outside to call him back. The problem turned out to be that the line from the sink into the dishwasher had frozen and popped the coupling, thereby flooding the kitchen. For several minutes I attempt to call my mother to borrow mops and buckets and on every attempt am greeted by a busy signal. For those of you unfamiliar with the words "busy signal", it means my parents are still not enough into 2011 to get call waiting. I try the funeral home phone number and my brother across the street answers. A start, but still not who I wanted. My mother finally gets of the phone with either her friend Pat or my sister-in-law (the only two people she really talks to during the week) and answers the phone. I swing by for a bucket and head home. My brother was already there saving the day with a shop vac. Patrick vacs up all the water, but that is only part of the mess. There's dust everywhere from the shop vac AND my two wonderful puppies had gotten into a trash bag. Everything that had been on the floor in the kitchen was on the counters and very wet. A package of toilet paper had landed in a cake. The trash barrel was in the sink. Ugh.
Sooooooo cooking was out for the night and out for Wednesday night, too. Dinner = cancelled. So the answer for Tuesday is takeout. Dominos? Not healthy, but I did go with the thin crust so it deducts a point per slice. Trying a bit right?
Wednesday during the day is fine. Then what could have turned out to be my personal nightmare began. I went to the doctor Wednesday afternoon because I haven't been feeling very top-notch lately. Neauseas, crampy, just gross. Not to mention, WICKED emotional. There legit had not been a day in the past week and a half that I had not burst out into tears at least once. MLK Day? I cried at seven TV shows. Seven. But I digress. So I had all that fun stuff done to me that a woman gets to have done at the doctor and 4 options came to light.
1- ectopic pregnancy, which would mean a D&C because an ectopic pregnancy can't be carried to term. In other words, not awesome.
2- ovarian cysts, which could be nothing but could also mean no babies. Ever. Depending on if it's a one time thing or a larger disease. Also, not awesome.
3- ovarian/uterine cancer, which would mean chemo, radiation and all those other fun treatments and again, maybe no babies. Getting even further away from awesome.
4- chlymidia/some other weird infection, which could mean thousands of different things and also might be indicitive of a larger problem. Awesome-totally gone out the window.
I left the doctor relatively composed until I called Patrick. I melted into an emotional puddle right around Ski Ward. Guess what- when awesome flew out the window so did my points. Dinner was a comfort food fest. My stomach paid the price for my soul to be soothed.
Thursday was a snow day. Sweet. All day to sit at home and dwell on the possible medical complications my body was currently undergoing. Lunch at Papa Ginos? Sounds good to me. Dinner at Longhorn? If my mind couldn't be calm, I was at least going to eat what I wanted and make my belly happy. At this point, my body didn't know which way was up. Was I sick because my uterus was revolting or was I sick because I was pounding back 3 weeks worth of junk food in a matter of 2 days or was I sick because of my body's tendency to react to stress and anxiety very somatically, usually with neausea. Hmmmm...I don't like to make anything easy on myself.
So I suffer through work Friday in intense pain and head to an appointment with an ob/gyn and got to had more fun lady things done and got the verdict: NOTHING. He thinks that I had a GI virus that was thrown into chaos by my "lady" cycle. Isn't being a girl wicked fun? So after I left that appointment not feeling doomed or failed, how do Patrick and I celebrate? Moe's of course. Dinner last night? The Boynton. When I fail, I fail completely.
So I made the decision to skip the weigh in this morning and save myself the stress. I know if I see that number on the scale, I will only get supremely down and punish myself. I need to regain my composure and move forward. I let my emotions get the better of me this week and let them make my food decisions. I have to let my head start doing the work for me again. Here goes nothing.
Total Loss: ???
And unfortunately 2 steps back. I sit and write this post this morning instead of getting ready to go weigh in. I DESTROYED this week.
I was doing really well up until Tuesday evening. I didn't gorge at home services like usual and at like 5:30 still had 40 points. I went to the grocery store to buy the making for my soup for Wednesday night since it was my turn to host. I hadn't spoken with Patrick all day and while I was in the soup aisle trying to decipher which chicken bouillon powder I should buy (ummm...is there a difference?), Patrick call me and the only words that I hear before the call drops (thanks AT&T) are "We have a problem..." A problem?? What the hell does that mean?? Being the incredibly, calm rational person you all know and love me to be, I IMMEDIATELY jumped to the conclusion that Patrick was fired.
I abandon ship (or cart) in the soup aisle in front of the previously mentioned chicken bouillon (Ihad chosen Wyler's?) and ran outside to call him back. The problem turned out to be that the line from the sink into the dishwasher had frozen and popped the coupling, thereby flooding the kitchen. For several minutes I attempt to call my mother to borrow mops and buckets and on every attempt am greeted by a busy signal. For those of you unfamiliar with the words "busy signal", it means my parents are still not enough into 2011 to get call waiting. I try the funeral home phone number and my brother across the street answers. A start, but still not who I wanted. My mother finally gets of the phone with either her friend Pat or my sister-in-law (the only two people she really talks to during the week) and answers the phone. I swing by for a bucket and head home. My brother was already there saving the day with a shop vac. Patrick vacs up all the water, but that is only part of the mess. There's dust everywhere from the shop vac AND my two wonderful puppies had gotten into a trash bag. Everything that had been on the floor in the kitchen was on the counters and very wet. A package of toilet paper had landed in a cake. The trash barrel was in the sink. Ugh.
Sooooooo cooking was out for the night and out for Wednesday night, too. Dinner = cancelled. So the answer for Tuesday is takeout. Dominos? Not healthy, but I did go with the thin crust so it deducts a point per slice. Trying a bit right?
Wednesday during the day is fine. Then what could have turned out to be my personal nightmare began. I went to the doctor Wednesday afternoon because I haven't been feeling very top-notch lately. Neauseas, crampy, just gross. Not to mention, WICKED emotional. There legit had not been a day in the past week and a half that I had not burst out into tears at least once. MLK Day? I cried at seven TV shows. Seven. But I digress. So I had all that fun stuff done to me that a woman gets to have done at the doctor and 4 options came to light.
1- ectopic pregnancy, which would mean a D&C because an ectopic pregnancy can't be carried to term. In other words, not awesome.
2- ovarian cysts, which could be nothing but could also mean no babies. Ever. Depending on if it's a one time thing or a larger disease. Also, not awesome.
3- ovarian/uterine cancer, which would mean chemo, radiation and all those other fun treatments and again, maybe no babies. Getting even further away from awesome.
4- chlymidia/some other weird infection, which could mean thousands of different things and also might be indicitive of a larger problem. Awesome-totally gone out the window.
I left the doctor relatively composed until I called Patrick. I melted into an emotional puddle right around Ski Ward. Guess what- when awesome flew out the window so did my points. Dinner was a comfort food fest. My stomach paid the price for my soul to be soothed.
Thursday was a snow day. Sweet. All day to sit at home and dwell on the possible medical complications my body was currently undergoing. Lunch at Papa Ginos? Sounds good to me. Dinner at Longhorn? If my mind couldn't be calm, I was at least going to eat what I wanted and make my belly happy. At this point, my body didn't know which way was up. Was I sick because my uterus was revolting or was I sick because I was pounding back 3 weeks worth of junk food in a matter of 2 days or was I sick because of my body's tendency to react to stress and anxiety very somatically, usually with neausea. Hmmmm...I don't like to make anything easy on myself.
So I suffer through work Friday in intense pain and head to an appointment with an ob/gyn and got to had more fun lady things done and got the verdict: NOTHING. He thinks that I had a GI virus that was thrown into chaos by my "lady" cycle. Isn't being a girl wicked fun? So after I left that appointment not feeling doomed or failed, how do Patrick and I celebrate? Moe's of course. Dinner last night? The Boynton. When I fail, I fail completely.
So I made the decision to skip the weigh in this morning and save myself the stress. I know if I see that number on the scale, I will only get supremely down and punish myself. I need to regain my composure and move forward. I let my emotions get the better of me this week and let them make my food decisions. I have to let my head start doing the work for me again. Here goes nothing.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
I used to eat what??
Week 2 loss: 5.6 lbs
Total loss: 9.6 lbs
Suuuuuuper excited about this week's loss. A little disappointed that I couldn't hit 10 even, but I feel that something that minor is not something to get tripped up on.
I know I have only been doing this for a couple weeks now, but as I am making a conscience effort to eat less (and make better choices), I think back to what I would have eaten, even just 3 weeks ago. I also notice that things I ate on an almost daily basis are now bothering me and making me feel wiiiicked gross.
Since I weigh in on Saturday mornings, I kind of consider Saturday my "cheat" day. I still count my points, but I am not so diligent sticking to my daily allotment. So with this "freedom" on my mind after weigh in, I headed to Dunkin' Donuts. Instead of a plain bagel, I got what once was my favorite breakfast choice. Sausage and cheese (no egg, obviously) on a toasted french roll. For those of you who have never experienced a french roll, I suggest you locate the nearest Dunkin location near you that offers them. It's a rarity, but I <3 them. Crusty, crunchy, and carbolicious. Now here's the gross part...I ate a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin' Donuts (or another coffee joint) everyday for almost 2 years. I know, I know...they're fat sandwiches, but it's in the past so let's move on.
I ate it and I noticed it didn't taste how I remembered it. It is kind of slimy and had an odd texture. The french roll was as aaaahmazing as I remember, but the rest of the sandwich was not pleasant. And later, I felt like I ate a grease rock. Ugh. I am glad I felt this way since the next time I get a hint of a hankering for one I can remind myself of just how way my body reacted the last time I crammed this nastiness down my throat.
As for how much I used to eat...it's quite frankly, downright scary. Patrick and I went to Boston Market for lunch and I had half a sandwich and a small side of macaroni and cheese. Ever had the mac and cheese there?? Delicious. Heavenly. Ooey, gooey, and carb-y. Three of my favorite food adjectives. I digress, but today, I ate my food and left the restaurant feeling actually full. I wasn't hungry and I didn't want more. From half a sandwich and a small side! Now to those of you with normal human appetites you might be thinking that this seems like quite a normal amount of food. For me, this was a snack. I would go to Boston Market and get a full sandwich, a large side of mac and cheese, AND a corn bread. Literally like triple the amount of food I ate today. And I would often follow it up with a cookie. A rather large, rather chocolate-y (read: rather fattening) cookie.
Now as I sit and write this I know I can't get too ahead of myself. This is only the start of the my third week and I can't pretend that I have made permanent changes or that I won't slip and make a TERRIBLE choice in the upcoming week. Recent history tells us otherwise. BUT I do have to revel in my minor victories. Did I order french fries at dinner Thursday? Sure, but I ate maybe 10 in total. Did I go to Dairy Queen last night? Yup...but I didn't get the cookie laden Blizzard I wanted. (Though, my Orange Julius was creamy, orange-y, and yuuuummmyyyy)
Anyway, for right now I am pretty happy with my progress, but with only two weeks under my belt there is still serious potential for a MAJOR screw up. Hopefully, though, I can keep making some substitutions to minimize the damage done to my efforts.
Total loss: 9.6 lbs
Suuuuuuper excited about this week's loss. A little disappointed that I couldn't hit 10 even, but I feel that something that minor is not something to get tripped up on.
I know I have only been doing this for a couple weeks now, but as I am making a conscience effort to eat less (and make better choices), I think back to what I would have eaten, even just 3 weeks ago. I also notice that things I ate on an almost daily basis are now bothering me and making me feel wiiiicked gross.
Since I weigh in on Saturday mornings, I kind of consider Saturday my "cheat" day. I still count my points, but I am not so diligent sticking to my daily allotment. So with this "freedom" on my mind after weigh in, I headed to Dunkin' Donuts. Instead of a plain bagel, I got what once was my favorite breakfast choice. Sausage and cheese (no egg, obviously) on a toasted french roll. For those of you who have never experienced a french roll, I suggest you locate the nearest Dunkin location near you that offers them. It's a rarity, but I <3 them. Crusty, crunchy, and carbolicious. Now here's the gross part...I ate a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin' Donuts (or another coffee joint) everyday for almost 2 years. I know, I know...they're fat sandwiches, but it's in the past so let's move on.
I ate it and I noticed it didn't taste how I remembered it. It is kind of slimy and had an odd texture. The french roll was as aaaahmazing as I remember, but the rest of the sandwich was not pleasant. And later, I felt like I ate a grease rock. Ugh. I am glad I felt this way since the next time I get a hint of a hankering for one I can remind myself of just how way my body reacted the last time I crammed this nastiness down my throat.
As for how much I used to eat...it's quite frankly, downright scary. Patrick and I went to Boston Market for lunch and I had half a sandwich and a small side of macaroni and cheese. Ever had the mac and cheese there?? Delicious. Heavenly. Ooey, gooey, and carb-y. Three of my favorite food adjectives. I digress, but today, I ate my food and left the restaurant feeling actually full. I wasn't hungry and I didn't want more. From half a sandwich and a small side! Now to those of you with normal human appetites you might be thinking that this seems like quite a normal amount of food. For me, this was a snack. I would go to Boston Market and get a full sandwich, a large side of mac and cheese, AND a corn bread. Literally like triple the amount of food I ate today. And I would often follow it up with a cookie. A rather large, rather chocolate-y (read: rather fattening) cookie.
Now as I sit and write this I know I can't get too ahead of myself. This is only the start of the my third week and I can't pretend that I have made permanent changes or that I won't slip and make a TERRIBLE choice in the upcoming week. Recent history tells us otherwise. BUT I do have to revel in my minor victories. Did I order french fries at dinner Thursday? Sure, but I ate maybe 10 in total. Did I go to Dairy Queen last night? Yup...but I didn't get the cookie laden Blizzard I wanted. (Though, my Orange Julius was creamy, orange-y, and yuuuummmyyyy)
Anyway, for right now I am pretty happy with my progress, but with only two weeks under my belt there is still serious potential for a MAJOR screw up. Hopefully, though, I can keep making some substitutions to minimize the damage done to my efforts.
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