Okay, I've finally stopped moping. Mostly because I weighed in this morning and have lost 1 of the 2.5 pounds I gained back over the long weekend (I thought it was only 2 but it was more). The last 2-3 days were pret-ty bad though.
Last night while I was in the shower I was trying to think of a list of things I would rather do than gain back 2.5 pounds and came up with a short list:
1. Eat three bites of goat brains.
2. Catch husband in bed doing coke with three male midget strippers.
Thankfully, before I got to number three I realized how pathetic I was being and stopped.
In other world news, we watched War of the Worlds last night. I loved it until the last 10 minutes. Am I the only person who wasn't clear on the ending?! Why did those creepy aliens die anyway?!! I kept doing my annoying habit of whispering and whining to Roy every 2 minutes, "What's going on?!" I don't understand what's happenning!!!" Yes, yes, I'm 'one of those people' who needs a moderator to tie it all together for me. NEVER leave me to draw my own conclusion. It only results in serious whining and head scratching.
I was the same way in high school. I was always the first to finish the book (often weeks early...it's the inbred Asian brown-nosing trait), but couldn't for the life of me interpret symbolism or the hidden meaning behind the book. Whenever I was asked questions such as, "And why do you suppose Willy Loman wore green socks as opposed to any other color?" I would stare blankly at the teacher for a very, very long, awkward period of time until they were absolutely disgusted by me and moved on. F&^k! Who the hell gets that stuff anyway? It's sooo much easier being clueless sometimes. Thank god I have my husband to piece these things together for me. Me no understand English.
I know I'm not the dumbest doorknob on the planet. I have no trouble holding my own with mortgage brokers, investment advisors and HR legal text, but hand me Lord of the Flies and ask me why Piggy's glasses were round and I'll throw up on you out of nervousness.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
A Pity Party for One...and you're all invited
I keep reading that when you're trying to lose weight you should not focus on the numbers. I think we can all agree this is sensible logic which I won't go into, but here's a news flash-most dieters are not only focused on the numbers, we're obsessed with the goddamn numbers. And when the numbers go up, we're despondent. Bereft. Unconsolable.
As I suspected, I did gain two solid two pounds last weekend. I am fairly sure one pound was from the three Thanksgiving meals that I had, and the other one was from having some movie theatre popcorn for the first time in over 6 months.
The weight gain (I went from 32 pounds lost back down to 30) has made me completely miserable. I know it's pointless and hurtful to sit here and obsess about it, but I do. The funny thing is, I didn't even go out of control. And quite honestly, if I had the chance, I don't think I would change what or how much I ate. So why do I continue to spend every idle moment feeling sorry for myself?
I think it's mostly because I took two solid weeks of hard work (FOURTEEN DAYS) and pissed it all away on a few meals and some popcorn. In the end, it was soooo not worth it. I've already gotten right back on the wagon (I have fallen off a half dozen times already), but for some reason, it never feels any less horrible. I feel so vulnerable and I'm not sure why.
I keep trying to tell myself that this whole experience is a journey. Even though I know what I *should* be doing, I have to accept that I will continue to make mistakes. Buddha didn't attain nirvana in eight months, so I am doubtful that as a mediocre-at-best public school student, I will find mine any sooner. I guess I have to be hopeful that time and committment will bring about change.
After all, certain things have already changed in my life that I never thought would. Like my desire to work out. For years, and even as recently as a few months ago, I saw working out as something fairly unenjoyable that I did because I had do. I griped about having to do it and did it grudgingly.
Somewhere along the line, and I'm not sure where, I started to realize that I actually liked working out. Initially I started to set goals for myself while I was there, and then I started to meditate/reflect while working out so that I could feel good inside and out afterwards. Once or twice a week I'll even do a double workout, which I never even thought of before. So I guess I'm getting there. Slowly but surely.
As I suspected, I did gain two solid two pounds last weekend. I am fairly sure one pound was from the three Thanksgiving meals that I had, and the other one was from having some movie theatre popcorn for the first time in over 6 months.
The weight gain (I went from 32 pounds lost back down to 30) has made me completely miserable. I know it's pointless and hurtful to sit here and obsess about it, but I do. The funny thing is, I didn't even go out of control. And quite honestly, if I had the chance, I don't think I would change what or how much I ate. So why do I continue to spend every idle moment feeling sorry for myself?
I think it's mostly because I took two solid weeks of hard work (FOURTEEN DAYS) and pissed it all away on a few meals and some popcorn. In the end, it was soooo not worth it. I've already gotten right back on the wagon (I have fallen off a half dozen times already), but for some reason, it never feels any less horrible. I feel so vulnerable and I'm not sure why.
I keep trying to tell myself that this whole experience is a journey. Even though I know what I *should* be doing, I have to accept that I will continue to make mistakes. Buddha didn't attain nirvana in eight months, so I am doubtful that as a mediocre-at-best public school student, I will find mine any sooner. I guess I have to be hopeful that time and committment will bring about change.
After all, certain things have already changed in my life that I never thought would. Like my desire to work out. For years, and even as recently as a few months ago, I saw working out as something fairly unenjoyable that I did because I had do. I griped about having to do it and did it grudgingly.
Somewhere along the line, and I'm not sure where, I started to realize that I actually liked working out. Initially I started to set goals for myself while I was there, and then I started to meditate/reflect while working out so that I could feel good inside and out afterwards. Once or twice a week I'll even do a double workout, which I never even thought of before. So I guess I'm getting there. Slowly but surely.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Oh boy...
I had endless anxiety over how much I was going to eat on Thanksgiving. So I am pleased to report that all of the anxiety and fear was for naught! I did just fine yesterday. Well, if your definition of fine is gaining THREE POUNDS OVERNIGHT. If its not, well then...hell, I guess you might say I royally f&*cked up.
For every thing I did right yesterday, I did two things wrong. But I suppose this is still better than I would have done a year ago. Even though I ate more than I'd planned too and did in fact weigh in at three pounds heavier this morning, I am pretty sure I didn't gain three pounds. If a pound is about 3,600 calories (and I'm fairly sure I didn't consume 11,000 calories yesterday), then there is no way I could have gained three pounds in one day. Especially not since I exercised in the AM and PM (guilt). I'm assuming about half of that is water retention. Well, it better be, or the world can count one more bulimic among its ranks.
Today for the third year running Roy and I braved the post-Thanksgiving crowds for a couple of decent bargains. Like I did in years one and two, I silently wore it was not worth ever doing again, and then later changed my mind once I saw my bounty. I used to think I hated it because I disliked waking up early, standing in long lines and having to witness the over-consumption and commerialism of the holidays.
Today I realized that I can patiently deal with a few long lines/a few less hours of sleep, but what I can't deal with is the 5% of the population that has no regard for others. The sly line cutters and the loud, argumentative screamers who can't believe they didn't get one of the $300 laptops.
I also found the manipulative advertising of some stores distressing. We went to one store right at opening to get an MP3 player and were told there were only four available...and that since one person grabbed 3 of them, they were out. At another store we got a DVD recorder, and on the receipt in tiny fine print it said that you had only five days from the date of purchase to send in your rebate. What the?!? Who even thinks of sending in a rebate days five days after they buy something? At times like this I thank god I have a husband whose anal retention mirrors mine and spotted that. We'll be sure to mail our rebate in on time, but think of the hundreds of others who will not. How can people sleep at night swindling others like this? It's heartbreaking, but mostly disgusting. I hope Santa pisses down their chimneys.
For every thing I did right yesterday, I did two things wrong. But I suppose this is still better than I would have done a year ago. Even though I ate more than I'd planned too and did in fact weigh in at three pounds heavier this morning, I am pretty sure I didn't gain three pounds. If a pound is about 3,600 calories (and I'm fairly sure I didn't consume 11,000 calories yesterday), then there is no way I could have gained three pounds in one day. Especially not since I exercised in the AM and PM (guilt). I'm assuming about half of that is water retention. Well, it better be, or the world can count one more bulimic among its ranks.
Today for the third year running Roy and I braved the post-Thanksgiving crowds for a couple of decent bargains. Like I did in years one and two, I silently wore it was not worth ever doing again, and then later changed my mind once I saw my bounty. I used to think I hated it because I disliked waking up early, standing in long lines and having to witness the over-consumption and commerialism of the holidays.
Today I realized that I can patiently deal with a few long lines/a few less hours of sleep, but what I can't deal with is the 5% of the population that has no regard for others. The sly line cutters and the loud, argumentative screamers who can't believe they didn't get one of the $300 laptops.
I also found the manipulative advertising of some stores distressing. We went to one store right at opening to get an MP3 player and were told there were only four available...and that since one person grabbed 3 of them, they were out. At another store we got a DVD recorder, and on the receipt in tiny fine print it said that you had only five days from the date of purchase to send in your rebate. What the?!? Who even thinks of sending in a rebate days five days after they buy something? At times like this I thank god I have a husband whose anal retention mirrors mine and spotted that. We'll be sure to mail our rebate in on time, but think of the hundreds of others who will not. How can people sleep at night swindling others like this? It's heartbreaking, but mostly disgusting. I hope Santa pisses down their chimneys.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
THANKSGIVING!!!
Yeeeee-haw! I f&*king love Thanksgiving!!! Delicious food, family, post-Thanksgiving sales, the kick off to Christmas... Awesome. All of it.
Though I've never actually prepared a Thanksgiving meal (I have issues touching raw meat, it grosses me out), I do so LOVE the food. Stuffing, mashed potatoes, buttery corn on the cob, friggen' PUMPKIN PIE!!! YES!!!
Though I am pretty sure I have never mentioned this before...this year I'm trying to lose weight and make 'lifestyle changes'. So I am trying to take a different approach this year. Which means less eating. And no fun. You see, I've read book after book that tells me celebratory eating is a big no-no, and that I should focus on the fun and fellowship with my family rather than the food.
How can I put this diplomatically? Uhh, sorry guys...but f*&k the people, I want pumpkin pie!!!
I did some research this morning on what foods to avoid and unfortuately, the only acceptable Thanksgiving fare appears to be dry turkey and beets. Yum. Can't wait!!!
It's absolutely gonna kill me to not load up like I used too. It takes a long time to wipe out 10 years of bad eating habits. To make matters worse, we're doing two back to back Thanksgiving feasts tomorrow.
My two test runs this past week have also not fared well. Last weekend we went to back to back birthday parties and Ms. Chubby had one too many appetizers at the first party along with some delicious cake and ice cream (in my defense, the host was a Martha Stewart type), and then ate a second full meal an hour later at the second party. My second failed attempt at self control was today at work when some coworkers made Thanksgiving lunch. Though I successfully avoided the stuffing and potatoes, I had not one, but two servings of baked macaroni and cheese! I also had my first taste of collared greens and sweet potato pie...and hot damn!!! I have a new respect for the South!
So while it's safe to say I've set myself back over the last two weeks, thankfully- I've stepped up the workouts and haven't gained anything yet. Today I forced myself to do a hard 45 min. on the elliptical (I used to pant and hallucinate after 15 min. six months ago) and then lifted weights.
I also read in a very reputable health and fitness periodical (Us magazine...where you can also catch up to the minute headlines on Paris Hilton each week)- that the average American will consume 7,100 calories this Thanksgiving. HOLY CRAP. It seems almost unbelievable when you figure a McDonalds meal deal is "only" around 2,000 calories, but when you add it all up:
2 servings of stuffing- 600
2 servings of mashed potatoes- 700
1 serving of buttered corn- 250
1 serving of turkey with gravy- 400
1 slice pumpkin pie with ice cream- 650
2 glasses of red wine- 180
That comes out to nearly 3,000 calories for that one big meal! And that doesn't include breakfast, lunch, or Aunt Myrtle's pecan pie! So it's easy to see how someone could easily hit 6,000 calories in a day. I know I could. Without trying. But now is not the time to brag.
So here's the deal- I've decided to eat less than I'd like and avoid most of the starches, but I also refuse to go to the lame ass salad bar. And after we eat at the first meal, Roy and I are heading to the beach for an hour of power walking (YES, with the stupid arm movements) before heading to the second party.
I also had an epiphany today that is soooo cheesy I give you permission to freely scream at your monitor, "Josie is turning into a freaky hippie!" I have come to realize that I need a time period to mourn the fact that I can never again eat how I used too. Lord knows I prefer the old ways, and it's almost unbelievable to think I can never dig into a box of Wheat Thins like I used to. It was so comfortable, and so comforting...that its actually sad to think I cannot and should not ever do that again. So quite honestly, I've been in this mourning period (more like a period of shock and sadness) for a few weeks now, and I believe it will be a long time before I really, truly don't feel like I'm fighting a battle.
For those you wondering with bated breath, I've lost 32 pounds over the last 8 months. Thanks to my wonderful stocky heritage (I hail from farming stock), however, I still have not needed to get a new pair of jeans! Thanks, dad! One other thing that hasn't changed is my self esteem. I feel better to be sure, but I still feel and think like I did 32 pounds ago. Again, it's who I was for ten years, so I don't think that will change overnight.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Have some (sniffle) stuffing for me!
Though I've never actually prepared a Thanksgiving meal (I have issues touching raw meat, it grosses me out), I do so LOVE the food. Stuffing, mashed potatoes, buttery corn on the cob, friggen' PUMPKIN PIE!!! YES!!!
Though I am pretty sure I have never mentioned this before...this year I'm trying to lose weight and make 'lifestyle changes'. So I am trying to take a different approach this year. Which means less eating. And no fun. You see, I've read book after book that tells me celebratory eating is a big no-no, and that I should focus on the fun and fellowship with my family rather than the food.
How can I put this diplomatically? Uhh, sorry guys...but f*&k the people, I want pumpkin pie!!!
I did some research this morning on what foods to avoid and unfortuately, the only acceptable Thanksgiving fare appears to be dry turkey and beets. Yum. Can't wait!!!
It's absolutely gonna kill me to not load up like I used too. It takes a long time to wipe out 10 years of bad eating habits. To make matters worse, we're doing two back to back Thanksgiving feasts tomorrow.
My two test runs this past week have also not fared well. Last weekend we went to back to back birthday parties and Ms. Chubby had one too many appetizers at the first party along with some delicious cake and ice cream (in my defense, the host was a Martha Stewart type), and then ate a second full meal an hour later at the second party. My second failed attempt at self control was today at work when some coworkers made Thanksgiving lunch. Though I successfully avoided the stuffing and potatoes, I had not one, but two servings of baked macaroni and cheese! I also had my first taste of collared greens and sweet potato pie...and hot damn!!! I have a new respect for the South!
So while it's safe to say I've set myself back over the last two weeks, thankfully- I've stepped up the workouts and haven't gained anything yet. Today I forced myself to do a hard 45 min. on the elliptical (I used to pant and hallucinate after 15 min. six months ago) and then lifted weights.
I also read in a very reputable health and fitness periodical (Us magazine...where you can also catch up to the minute headlines on Paris Hilton each week)- that the average American will consume 7,100 calories this Thanksgiving. HOLY CRAP. It seems almost unbelievable when you figure a McDonalds meal deal is "only" around 2,000 calories, but when you add it all up:
2 servings of stuffing- 600
2 servings of mashed potatoes- 700
1 serving of buttered corn- 250
1 serving of turkey with gravy- 400
1 slice pumpkin pie with ice cream- 650
2 glasses of red wine- 180
That comes out to nearly 3,000 calories for that one big meal! And that doesn't include breakfast, lunch, or Aunt Myrtle's pecan pie! So it's easy to see how someone could easily hit 6,000 calories in a day. I know I could. Without trying. But now is not the time to brag.
So here's the deal- I've decided to eat less than I'd like and avoid most of the starches, but I also refuse to go to the lame ass salad bar. And after we eat at the first meal, Roy and I are heading to the beach for an hour of power walking (YES, with the stupid arm movements) before heading to the second party.
I also had an epiphany today that is soooo cheesy I give you permission to freely scream at your monitor, "Josie is turning into a freaky hippie!" I have come to realize that I need a time period to mourn the fact that I can never again eat how I used too. Lord knows I prefer the old ways, and it's almost unbelievable to think I can never dig into a box of Wheat Thins like I used to. It was so comfortable, and so comforting...that its actually sad to think I cannot and should not ever do that again. So quite honestly, I've been in this mourning period (more like a period of shock and sadness) for a few weeks now, and I believe it will be a long time before I really, truly don't feel like I'm fighting a battle.
For those you wondering with bated breath, I've lost 32 pounds over the last 8 months. Thanks to my wonderful stocky heritage (I hail from farming stock), however, I still have not needed to get a new pair of jeans! Thanks, dad! One other thing that hasn't changed is my self esteem. I feel better to be sure, but I still feel and think like I did 32 pounds ago. Again, it's who I was for ten years, so I don't think that will change overnight.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Have some (sniffle) stuffing for me!
Friday, November 18, 2005
We are ALL God's creatures...some of us are just uglier than others
Tomorrow morning we're going hiking at a nearby wildlife preserve. I'm very excited about this. Not because it's a wildlife preserve...more importantly, I hear its flat! Unlike most people, I would be perfectly happy to not see a single wild animal while on the hike. All animals freak the crap out of me.
I feel like such a hateful, juvenile person whenever we go to a zoo. Every other word out of my mouth is "Eew!" "Eew! Look at that monkey's ass! It's bright red!!!" "Eew! Is that straw in the elephant crap?!" "Eew, that bear just took a leak! I can smell his piss from over here!"
I'm even worse around a petting zoo. Whereas Roy likes to do crazy stuff like get down and his hands and knees and feed the animals I am usually standing at least 10 yards away pleading with him not to touch them or get any animal spit on him. Mind you, this is the same person who won't use a Wal Mart restroom, but is perfectly fine letting a goat lick his face.
For years he would try to coax me into feeding the animals but everytime they actually opened their mouth to receive the food in my shaking, timid hand I would immediately screech, drop the food and run away. It was a horrible scene that also traumatized all of the other three-year old children around me.
The good news, my behavior is consistent on land and in water. Though I love a good aquarium, I am absolutely petrified of any and all fish actually swimming around me. Back in Hawaii you could grab a bag of bread or peas and be immediately swarmed and surrounded by hundreds of brightly colored tropical fish. As you can imagine, this had precisely same effect on me as feeding animals. I would scream into my snorkel, choke on the water, drop the bag of bread and swim away at Olympic record breaking speed.
I feel like such a hateful, juvenile person whenever we go to a zoo. Every other word out of my mouth is "Eew!" "Eew! Look at that monkey's ass! It's bright red!!!" "Eew! Is that straw in the elephant crap?!" "Eew, that bear just took a leak! I can smell his piss from over here!"
I'm even worse around a petting zoo. Whereas Roy likes to do crazy stuff like get down and his hands and knees and feed the animals I am usually standing at least 10 yards away pleading with him not to touch them or get any animal spit on him. Mind you, this is the same person who won't use a Wal Mart restroom, but is perfectly fine letting a goat lick his face.
For years he would try to coax me into feeding the animals but everytime they actually opened their mouth to receive the food in my shaking, timid hand I would immediately screech, drop the food and run away. It was a horrible scene that also traumatized all of the other three-year old children around me.
The good news, my behavior is consistent on land and in water. Though I love a good aquarium, I am absolutely petrified of any and all fish actually swimming around me. Back in Hawaii you could grab a bag of bread or peas and be immediately swarmed and surrounded by hundreds of brightly colored tropical fish. As you can imagine, this had precisely same effect on me as feeding animals. I would scream into my snorkel, choke on the water, drop the bag of bread and swim away at Olympic record breaking speed.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Say my name!!! Say my name!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Today's musing is a total rip off from a post I read a few days ago at www.codysantana.com who writes about people who lose weight, and then bitch about the attention they get when people compliment them for it. These people get offended because they feel the compliments are really insinuations that you were fat earlier.
Personally, I CRAVE compliments. I solicit them. I trap people into giving them. I deliberately manipulate most conversations toward weight loss while simultaneously posing in front of the person hoping to elicit compliments from them.
If someone does compliment me,I become a parasitic barnacle that feeds off of them and won't leave them alone until they give me more of what I want. I make it a point to prance around in front of them every time I lose another pound, wanting for more, more, more!
I could never be offended by a compliment for two main reasons:
1) I am well aware that I was 40+ pounds overweight, so why would this news suddenly surprise me now?
2) After years of having to endure the "Ooooh, you got fat" comments from assorted elderly relatives, I am SO READY to hear anything other than that (no one wants to bitch slap an elderly relative, but some of their comments come damn close to warranting one).
People...people...lighten up. Accept the compliment for what it is- recognition of your hard work. And if you can't do that, then please, send 'em my way!!!
Personally, I CRAVE compliments. I solicit them. I trap people into giving them. I deliberately manipulate most conversations toward weight loss while simultaneously posing in front of the person hoping to elicit compliments from them.
If someone does compliment me,I become a parasitic barnacle that feeds off of them and won't leave them alone until they give me more of what I want. I make it a point to prance around in front of them every time I lose another pound, wanting for more, more, more!
I could never be offended by a compliment for two main reasons:
1) I am well aware that I was 40+ pounds overweight, so why would this news suddenly surprise me now?
2) After years of having to endure the "Ooooh, you got fat" comments from assorted elderly relatives, I am SO READY to hear anything other than that (no one wants to bitch slap an elderly relative, but some of their comments come damn close to warranting one).
People...people...lighten up. Accept the compliment for what it is- recognition of your hard work. And if you can't do that, then please, send 'em my way!!!
Monday, November 14, 2005
Unfortunately, he IS married, ladies!
This is Roy on Halloween. He was a pimp. Try to contain yourselves, ladies...I know he's damn fine. Psst- if you look really closely, you can see his sparkling gold tooth!
I wanted him to complete the outfit with an Afro wig but he said he was afraid of getting beat up in the parking lot afterward. I tried to convince him that since I've done my Tae Bo DVD a few dozen times that I could easily defend him, but he wasn't buying it. Haters, man...
Last Halloween I bought $40 of candy and gave most of it away to teenaged hoodlums who for the most part, didn't dress up or say thank you! Plus, they came in throngs of a dozen at a time so the candy was gone in an hour.
This Halloween, I hid in my office with the lights off! Heh heh.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Hiking through the hood
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I am pooped, but I had a great weekend of exercise. On Friday after I got back from San Diego I walked 4 miles in the evening with my brother. Then on Saturday I walked/ran 5 miles while Roy & my brother played a 'friendly' game of tennis nearby (well, if 'friendly' is taunting and calling each other names the whole time). And today...Roy and I went on a difficult 2.5 hour hike.
I love hiking. That being said, after today, I need to clarify that I like hiking, but only on mostly flat, meandering paths through wooded areas with fragrant flowers blooming all around us. Picture Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music as she sings, "The hills are alive, with the sound of muuuuuuuuuuusic!!!!" Only make her chubbier, Japanese and with bad skin. See? Great visual, huh? Welcome to my world.
In any case, singing and dancing through the hills was not what we did today.
Today we walked for about 75 minutes straight up a hot, desert mountain at what felt like a 90 degree angle. Most of the time I had to focus on not stepping in rattlesnake holes or brushing up against any of the poison oak. Ugly, scary desert lizards and beetles darted all around us. However, once we made it to the top, we were rewarded with beautiful 360 degree views of...the 'hood!
Oh I'm just kidding, it really was a nice day. I had a good time, I was just frustrated and panting most of the time. It was very quiet and serene. The hills were unusally very green, so it was very pretty. As you can see, the picture above is of me, smiling and happy because I did not yet know the trail would become so steep (and yes, it is intentional that I'm so far away you can't see any detail)!
Saturday, November 12, 2005
The dreaded food journal lives on...
I nearly died of embarassment while at my work conference last week. On the last day there, a guy sitting next to me happened to lean over and comment on how neat my notes were (really, it was a letter to my Grandma, but I'm glad it looked like I was being attentive to the speaker). Because I tend to get this particular compliment a lot, I always eagerly attempt to further impress them by then whipping out my day planner (which is even neater). The guy was so wowed by my day planner's appearance, that he then took it upon himself to announce to the rest of the table that they all had to look at my planner and started to pass it around (again, not uncommon...trust me, you would also be consumed by jealousy if you saw my planner).
Unfortunately, while I was busy beaming from all the praise I was getting, I noticed one girl's eyes get really wide as she stared at the pages of my planner. Only then did I realize she was looking at my daily food journal, complete with caloric totals next to each food item. I could tell that she thought I was absolutely, positively psycho to be keeping track of every morsel I consumed each day. But I was only mortified for about 2 minutes. Because I quickly realized that just as smokers who manically chew Nicorette should not be embarassed, neither should I be ashamed of my daily food journal. I recognize that my planner is as critical to my weight loss as exercise or a healthy diet are.
As sucessful of a tool it is, my food journal is also a giant pain in the behind. I have to haul it everywhere, constantly research the caloric amount of food I've just consumed, hide it from others, etc. Because of this hassle, I have repeatedly reassured myself that I won't have to do it forever. Then today I read a post on SkinnyDaily.com that seemed to be written just for me:
"The other day a woman told me ‘I’m not doing this forever [the food journal]. There’s no way I’m doing this for the rest of my life.’ I understand where she’s coming from, and I respect her choice. For me personally, however, the trade-off between keeping a food diary versus being overweight is clear and compelling. After all, I’d rather have a 50 lb stack of daily food records, than a 50 lb stack of excess body fat."
It was the perfect rationale to get my brain to absorb that there is a very good chance I'll have to keep a food journal for a very LONG time. And you know what? Based on the logic above, I'm now okay with that.
Unfortunately, while I was busy beaming from all the praise I was getting, I noticed one girl's eyes get really wide as she stared at the pages of my planner. Only then did I realize she was looking at my daily food journal, complete with caloric totals next to each food item. I could tell that she thought I was absolutely, positively psycho to be keeping track of every morsel I consumed each day. But I was only mortified for about 2 minutes. Because I quickly realized that just as smokers who manically chew Nicorette should not be embarassed, neither should I be ashamed of my daily food journal. I recognize that my planner is as critical to my weight loss as exercise or a healthy diet are.
As sucessful of a tool it is, my food journal is also a giant pain in the behind. I have to haul it everywhere, constantly research the caloric amount of food I've just consumed, hide it from others, etc. Because of this hassle, I have repeatedly reassured myself that I won't have to do it forever. Then today I read a post on SkinnyDaily.com that seemed to be written just for me:
"The other day a woman told me ‘I’m not doing this forever [the food journal]. There’s no way I’m doing this for the rest of my life.’ I understand where she’s coming from, and I respect her choice. For me personally, however, the trade-off between keeping a food diary versus being overweight is clear and compelling. After all, I’d rather have a 50 lb stack of daily food records, than a 50 lb stack of excess body fat."
It was the perfect rationale to get my brain to absorb that there is a very good chance I'll have to keep a food journal for a very LONG time. And you know what? Based on the logic above, I'm now okay with that.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Back home!
I just got back from a weeklong business trip to San Diego. While this is not highly unusual, here's what was- I had a roommate on this trip. It was set up this way so that we would have a better opportunity to "bond" and "network" with our colleagues across the nation. As you can imagine, Ms. Clean Anal Control Freak was highly, highly traumatized by this.
Because my parents had only one daughter and three sons, this meant I always had my own room even though my three brothers were packed like veal in the room next to mine. Nonetheless, I valiantly tried to make the best of it (I'm a fighter, people...a fighter) and took all of the necessary precautions:
1. I bought a new conservative nightgown to wear each night since my other one would have been provided waaaay too much tempation for even my 45-year old female roommate.
2. I took a sleeping pill each night so I wouldn't stay up until the wee hours of the night (and to hopefully better enable my roommate to take advatage of me while I slept).
3. After showering each night I conducted the mandatory visual survey of the bathtub and bar of soap to ensure that I left absolutely ZERO body hair anywhere (she did not kindly return the favor...but that's okay).
And you know, to be perfectly honest, it really wasn't that bad. My roommate was a lovely person (even though apparently, I wasn't her type.) When I was packing my bags this morning I actually felt like I was one of those kids on the Real World. I kept expecting to see a camera crew following me as I wheeled my suitcase out of the hotel.
Even the training was fun. Though I have to admit, while my roommate left the training with a "new sense of purpose and a higher calling," I left the training having earned the notoriety (we were all required to perform a skit on the last day) that for the most part, required me to "shake what my momma gave me" inappropriately. I hope I have a job on Monday.
In any case, all of this fun was dampered by some incredibly sad news I got mid-conference. My mother was just diagnosed with invasive breast cancer. She has her second surgery in 2-3 weeks, so she won't know exactly what stage she's in until then (but they think it's stage 2 or 3 based on the size of the tumor). If anyone has any recommended resources or webpages, please let me know.
Because my parents had only one daughter and three sons, this meant I always had my own room even though my three brothers were packed like veal in the room next to mine. Nonetheless, I valiantly tried to make the best of it (I'm a fighter, people...a fighter) and took all of the necessary precautions:
1. I bought a new conservative nightgown to wear each night since my other one would have been provided waaaay too much tempation for even my 45-year old female roommate.
2. I took a sleeping pill each night so I wouldn't stay up until the wee hours of the night (and to hopefully better enable my roommate to take advatage of me while I slept).
3. After showering each night I conducted the mandatory visual survey of the bathtub and bar of soap to ensure that I left absolutely ZERO body hair anywhere (she did not kindly return the favor...but that's okay).
And you know, to be perfectly honest, it really wasn't that bad. My roommate was a lovely person (even though apparently, I wasn't her type.) When I was packing my bags this morning I actually felt like I was one of those kids on the Real World. I kept expecting to see a camera crew following me as I wheeled my suitcase out of the hotel.
Even the training was fun. Though I have to admit, while my roommate left the training with a "new sense of purpose and a higher calling," I left the training having earned the notoriety (we were all required to perform a skit on the last day) that for the most part, required me to "shake what my momma gave me" inappropriately. I hope I have a job on Monday.
In any case, all of this fun was dampered by some incredibly sad news I got mid-conference. My mother was just diagnosed with invasive breast cancer. She has her second surgery in 2-3 weeks, so she won't know exactly what stage she's in until then (but they think it's stage 2 or 3 based on the size of the tumor). If anyone has any recommended resources or webpages, please let me know.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Newsflash: Danny Tanner is NOT gay!
This weekend rocked. On Saturday Roy & I drove out to my brother Joseph's new digs. Since he has a nice new gym, my brother and I made plans to work out so that we could help 'motivate' each other.
Because we were reared by my father (who thought the best way for me to get over my 'irrational fear of sharks' at age 10 was to order me off his boat and make me swim all the way back to the harbor...did you know you can cry underwater? You can.), I believe the more accurate description of what we do when working out together is "harassment."
First we ran on the treadmill for 20 minutes. Because this was his weak area, I motivated him anytime he wanted to quit ("Ohh...poor dear. Do you need to slow down? Are those man boobs starting to hurt from BOUNCING AROUND on your chest, you little b*#&h?!!!! KEEP MOVING!!!!). After that, we did 20 minutes on the elliptical (my weak area) while he in turn 'encouraged' me in a supportive manner, "So I hear you've lost some inches lately? Oh, wait? You DIDN'T? Well I can see why, lard A**!!! SPEED IT UP!!!!"
By the time we finished our cardio we were both dripping wet, I even had sweat pooling up in my ears. We forced ourselves to work out another 30 minutes on the weight machines because I was trying to do what I call my once weekly "Biggest Loser" workout, where I try to work out as hard as those on the show (since my normal workouts are at best 'leisurely').
Later that night we all went to the Improv with our huge posse (in this case, one other person joined us...we're from Hawaii okay? We don't know a lot of people) to go and see Bob Saget's show. Yes, yes...he used to be 'that dork' from Full House and America's Funniest Home Videos. Trust me though, he's a complete perv on stage. Like most comedians, he dropped non-stop f-bombs the entire show. But he also spent a great deal of his time talking about men who shave their balls and doing Kimmy Gibbler. I was deeply insulted at how cheap the show's content was (a lie) and didn't laugh once (another lie...I chortled so hard I nearly choked on my drink).
Bob Saget was an absolute riot. He ended the show with a song on his guitar (the guy can play) titled, "Danny Tanner is NOT gay." Hysterical. I am officially a fan. I will say it loud and say it proud- I. Love. Bob Saget.
Because we were reared by my father (who thought the best way for me to get over my 'irrational fear of sharks' at age 10 was to order me off his boat and make me swim all the way back to the harbor...did you know you can cry underwater? You can.), I believe the more accurate description of what we do when working out together is "harassment."
First we ran on the treadmill for 20 minutes. Because this was his weak area, I motivated him anytime he wanted to quit ("Ohh...poor dear. Do you need to slow down? Are those man boobs starting to hurt from BOUNCING AROUND on your chest, you little b*#&h?!!!! KEEP MOVING!!!!). After that, we did 20 minutes on the elliptical (my weak area) while he in turn 'encouraged' me in a supportive manner, "So I hear you've lost some inches lately? Oh, wait? You DIDN'T? Well I can see why, lard A**!!! SPEED IT UP!!!!"
By the time we finished our cardio we were both dripping wet, I even had sweat pooling up in my ears. We forced ourselves to work out another 30 minutes on the weight machines because I was trying to do what I call my once weekly "Biggest Loser" workout, where I try to work out as hard as those on the show (since my normal workouts are at best 'leisurely').
Later that night we all went to the Improv with our huge posse (in this case, one other person joined us...we're from Hawaii okay? We don't know a lot of people) to go and see Bob Saget's show. Yes, yes...he used to be 'that dork' from Full House and America's Funniest Home Videos. Trust me though, he's a complete perv on stage. Like most comedians, he dropped non-stop f-bombs the entire show. But he also spent a great deal of his time talking about men who shave their balls and doing Kimmy Gibbler. I was deeply insulted at how cheap the show's content was (a lie) and didn't laugh once (another lie...I chortled so hard I nearly choked on my drink).
Bob Saget was an absolute riot. He ended the show with a song on his guitar (the guy can play) titled, "Danny Tanner is NOT gay." Hysterical. I am officially a fan. I will say it loud and say it proud- I. Love. Bob Saget.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Uh...o-kay.
Here's something I came across a few days ago on a SkinnyDaily.com post:
Are you disgusted by any part of yourself that stores extra energy? Let me propose something preposterous. Uncover that part of your body. Hold it in your two hands. Apologize. That’s right. Grab a thigh. Give it a kiss. Say you’re sorry. Tell your thigh you know it was only doing what it was designed to do. You may have a hard time kissing some of your parts, so just give them a good pat. Write down your thoughts and feelings as you complete this crazy exercise.
What the....?!?!?!
Gonna have to pass on that one! First of all, I no desire to tenderly kiss my fat. And two, even if I did want to, I'M CHUBBY. So I can't exactly bend over and plant a huge one on my ass.
I get the point, though. Really, I do. I understand that there is no point in targeting your body parts and hating/loathing them for being covered in fat. But kissing and apologizing to my thighs?!!! Uh, not gonna happen.
I do understand the need for self acceptance, forgiveness and self love. In fact, this is the first time I've ever understood its relationship to weight. But I will probably always be peevish that I have excess body fat. But I'm okay with this anger because ultimately, it's what fuels me to get my ass to the gym everyday when really, I'd rather be watching Oprah.
Speaking of which, my husband just told me he doesn't like it when I watch Oprah (he wasn't serious) because once I'm done, I get into my strong, angry black woman mode (I mean no disrespect about the black part, but I refuse to call myself a strong, angry yellow woman because quite frankly, it just doesn't flow and I'm not YELLOW anyway)! Typically I get up from the sofa, point angrily at him and denounce him for the oppression he has brought to our world (doesn't matter if he's actually responsible or not, but I certainly don't plan on taking any responsibility).
Yesterday I wrote that I was fussy about losing almost 30 pounds and still not having dropped a dress size yet. I admit that it was somewhat of an exaggeration. I have lost inches in certain places (and gone up in others), but really- most of my clothes all still fit! They're a little baggier, sure...but whenever I try a size smaller...they don't exactly fit either! Which is why I said a few months ago that clearly I must have been wearing all of my clothes as spandex! Sex-y!
To congratulate me for almost hitting the big 3-0 in weight loss (my original goal), Roy got me a new scale! My other one was new too, but it was manual (hey, it was cheaper) and I had to squint to see the little lines. Since I won't let Roy be in a 20-ft radius of me when I'm actually on the scale to help read it, he decided to surprise me with a new digital scale. YIPPIE! In the last 24-hours I've stepped on it about ten times! (OCD, OCD...) Thanks Roy!!!
Are you disgusted by any part of yourself that stores extra energy? Let me propose something preposterous. Uncover that part of your body. Hold it in your two hands. Apologize. That’s right. Grab a thigh. Give it a kiss. Say you’re sorry. Tell your thigh you know it was only doing what it was designed to do. You may have a hard time kissing some of your parts, so just give them a good pat. Write down your thoughts and feelings as you complete this crazy exercise.
What the....?!?!?!
Gonna have to pass on that one! First of all, I no desire to tenderly kiss my fat. And two, even if I did want to, I'M CHUBBY. So I can't exactly bend over and plant a huge one on my ass.
I get the point, though. Really, I do. I understand that there is no point in targeting your body parts and hating/loathing them for being covered in fat. But kissing and apologizing to my thighs?!!! Uh, not gonna happen.
I do understand the need for self acceptance, forgiveness and self love. In fact, this is the first time I've ever understood its relationship to weight. But I will probably always be peevish that I have excess body fat. But I'm okay with this anger because ultimately, it's what fuels me to get my ass to the gym everyday when really, I'd rather be watching Oprah.
Speaking of which, my husband just told me he doesn't like it when I watch Oprah (he wasn't serious) because once I'm done, I get into my strong, angry black woman mode (I mean no disrespect about the black part, but I refuse to call myself a strong, angry yellow woman because quite frankly, it just doesn't flow and I'm not YELLOW anyway)! Typically I get up from the sofa, point angrily at him and denounce him for the oppression he has brought to our world (doesn't matter if he's actually responsible or not, but I certainly don't plan on taking any responsibility).
Yesterday I wrote that I was fussy about losing almost 30 pounds and still not having dropped a dress size yet. I admit that it was somewhat of an exaggeration. I have lost inches in certain places (and gone up in others), but really- most of my clothes all still fit! They're a little baggier, sure...but whenever I try a size smaller...they don't exactly fit either! Which is why I said a few months ago that clearly I must have been wearing all of my clothes as spandex! Sex-y!
To congratulate me for almost hitting the big 3-0 in weight loss (my original goal), Roy got me a new scale! My other one was new too, but it was manual (hey, it was cheaper) and I had to squint to see the little lines. Since I won't let Roy be in a 20-ft radius of me when I'm actually on the scale to help read it, he decided to surprise me with a new digital scale. YIPPIE! In the last 24-hours I've stepped on it about ten times! (OCD, OCD...) Thanks Roy!!!
Friday, November 04, 2005
The treadmill LIES
I have quickly come to learn that running on a treadmill and running in the real world are two very different things. You see, over the last 2-3 weeks I have managed to work my way up to being able to run a mile again (yes...I had to work my way "UP" to that...you can stop laughing now). Anyway...so I've worked my way back up to being able to run a mile on the treadmill. I've even upped my speed and have been able to finish strong. The problem is, everytime I get cocky and self confident enough to take that show on the road, I barely stumble through it and usually end up sucking wind on the side of the road.
I am sure people driving by must think I am suffering a horrible asthma attack. Anyday now someone is going to jump out of their car to offer me their inhaler. The sad thing is, I'm going to have to take a puff on it only because it will be far easier than having to explain that I'm not really asthmatic, just friggen chubby!!!
Back in high school I ran cross country for two years. Unfortunately, these were two very pathetic years in which I nearly came in dead last in every race. This was most likely because my strategy of starting to get in shape about a week prior to our first race never really worked out for me. Anyway, by the end of both seasons, I could usually run two 9-minute miles. This is nothing to write home about, I know, but I actually continued running in college and at one point in the mid-1990's, could easily run five or six 9-minute miles.
My, my... how things have changed...
Nowadays I couldn't run a 9-minute mile to save my life, much less five or six! I've realized that running on the treadmill feels like cheating to me...there's less resistance and more inertia. For those of you who golf, you'll understand this comparison- running on the treadmill v. the real road is like hitting golf balls off mats v. actual grass. The fake one is always deceptively easier than the real one.
So I guess I have to accept that I'm not quite ready for the road yet. Kinda disappointing...on that note, I have managed to be the only person in the world who has managed to lose about 27.5 pounds without actually losing any inches or dropping a full clothes size yet. Even the people who take my measurements each month at Curves are amazed (wonderful, I love being the freak)- "Wow! Great job Josie! You've lost another 4 pounds this month, now let's see how many inches you've taken off! Uhh, hmm...ahhhh, well gee...that can't be right. Gosh, well...um, maybe it is... It ah, looks like you've ahhh, gotten a little...bigger in inches though. Uh...that must kinda suck." NO KIDDING.
Please don't try to make me feel better by saying I'm gaining inches because I'm bulking up. Trust me, that only makes me feel worse. My goal is not to be a Russian female shot put champion.
That little set back hasn't deterred me though. Things are for the most part going well. I'm pumped. Among other things, I absolutely love everyone's comments and advice. They are wonderful to come home to and are great motivators. A huge MAHALO NUI LOA to whoever recommended Fitday.com to me. That site is awesome!
I am sure people driving by must think I am suffering a horrible asthma attack. Anyday now someone is going to jump out of their car to offer me their inhaler. The sad thing is, I'm going to have to take a puff on it only because it will be far easier than having to explain that I'm not really asthmatic, just friggen chubby!!!
Back in high school I ran cross country for two years. Unfortunately, these were two very pathetic years in which I nearly came in dead last in every race. This was most likely because my strategy of starting to get in shape about a week prior to our first race never really worked out for me. Anyway, by the end of both seasons, I could usually run two 9-minute miles. This is nothing to write home about, I know, but I actually continued running in college and at one point in the mid-1990's, could easily run five or six 9-minute miles.
My, my... how things have changed...
Nowadays I couldn't run a 9-minute mile to save my life, much less five or six! I've realized that running on the treadmill feels like cheating to me...there's less resistance and more inertia. For those of you who golf, you'll understand this comparison- running on the treadmill v. the real road is like hitting golf balls off mats v. actual grass. The fake one is always deceptively easier than the real one.
So I guess I have to accept that I'm not quite ready for the road yet. Kinda disappointing...on that note, I have managed to be the only person in the world who has managed to lose about 27.5 pounds without actually losing any inches or dropping a full clothes size yet. Even the people who take my measurements each month at Curves are amazed (wonderful, I love being the freak)- "Wow! Great job Josie! You've lost another 4 pounds this month, now let's see how many inches you've taken off! Uhh, hmm...ahhhh, well gee...that can't be right. Gosh, well...um, maybe it is... It ah, looks like you've ahhh, gotten a little...bigger in inches though. Uh...that must kinda suck." NO KIDDING.
Please don't try to make me feel better by saying I'm gaining inches because I'm bulking up. Trust me, that only makes me feel worse. My goal is not to be a Russian female shot put champion.
That little set back hasn't deterred me though. Things are for the most part going well. I'm pumped. Among other things, I absolutely love everyone's comments and advice. They are wonderful to come home to and are great motivators. A huge MAHALO NUI LOA to whoever recommended Fitday.com to me. That site is awesome!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
I'll show you, people!!!
It appears that all of the magnetic yellow ribbons on the back of everyone's cars have been replaced by those cutsie little stick-figure family stickers. Six months ago when they first came out I remember thinking, "Awww...look how cute! It's Dad, Mom, Billy and little Susie all smiling hand in hand on the back of the family mini van!"
It's something I could easily see my own mother really wanting to do. I do want to emphasize that this assuming her kids were still young, starry-eyed and cute (because trust me, if she were to accurately portray us today, it wouldn't be pretty). I don't think anyone makes those stickers detailed enough to capture my chubby body and scowl. My mother was and still is always very good about emphasizing family values, love and togetherness (which unfortunately, I don't seem to have inherited). Whereas she would proudly wear our hideous macaroni shell necklaces all day long, I would be the mother who would hide mine and then lie and say I wore it all day at the office.
Anyway, as time has passed I have started to notice some families are also adding Grandpa, Grandma, Rover the dog and Fluffy the cat to the mix. I've even seen some cars depicting mom, dad and what appears to be their 14 kids. Yes, yes, I live in the hood, but jeez! Go easy, people! It's not a competition!
Just to spite everyone I've been thinking about getting two sad, lonely looking stick figures to represent Roy & I for our own car (after all, we do have the required mini van). But I bet everyone would just think our kids peeled off.
On a completely different note, is the Biggest Loser just getting better and better? I was devastated when Pete got sent home last week but felt so much better when I read in People Magazine (I am a loyal reader) that he's lost like another hundred pounds! Way to go Pete! Even Jen (who I didn't particularly like but had to follow up on since we're blood sisters) has lost a ton more weight. My absolute favorite part of the show is in the last 1-2 minutes when they show who the person who got voted off looks today. It's so inspiring. I love it!!!!!!!!
It's something I could easily see my own mother really wanting to do. I do want to emphasize that this assuming her kids were still young, starry-eyed and cute (because trust me, if she were to accurately portray us today, it wouldn't be pretty). I don't think anyone makes those stickers detailed enough to capture my chubby body and scowl. My mother was and still is always very good about emphasizing family values, love and togetherness (which unfortunately, I don't seem to have inherited). Whereas she would proudly wear our hideous macaroni shell necklaces all day long, I would be the mother who would hide mine and then lie and say I wore it all day at the office.
Anyway, as time has passed I have started to notice some families are also adding Grandpa, Grandma, Rover the dog and Fluffy the cat to the mix. I've even seen some cars depicting mom, dad and what appears to be their 14 kids. Yes, yes, I live in the hood, but jeez! Go easy, people! It's not a competition!
Just to spite everyone I've been thinking about getting two sad, lonely looking stick figures to represent Roy & I for our own car (after all, we do have the required mini van). But I bet everyone would just think our kids peeled off.
On a completely different note, is the Biggest Loser just getting better and better? I was devastated when Pete got sent home last week but felt so much better when I read in People Magazine (I am a loyal reader) that he's lost like another hundred pounds! Way to go Pete! Even Jen (who I didn't particularly like but had to follow up on since we're blood sisters) has lost a ton more weight. My absolute favorite part of the show is in the last 1-2 minutes when they show who the person who got voted off looks today. It's so inspiring. I love it!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Damn that Roy
Is it wrong to want to stab the ones you love?
I hope not. But I do feel like hurting Roy. Tonight while we were walking he casually mentioned that he had already hit his goal weight. For those of you who are thinking, "Wait a minute...didn't he just start his diet a few weeks ago?" Why YES, you would be RIGHT!
That SOB lost nearly 10 pounds in a month. Accidently. When I asked him how he did it (since everytime I looked, he was munching on chocolate chip cookies while pretending to study so that I wouldn't bitch about the sinkful of dishes), he actually laughed and said he didn't know!
I am actually happy for him, but at the same time, PEEVED.
I have my weigh in tomorrow at Curves and as usual I'm a little nervous/excited. I've set a goal to lose a total of 40 lbs. before my youngest brother's graduation next June. My parents will probably have a large party and for the first time in ten years I don't want to have to hide from everyone because I look fat. Who am I kidding? I'll probably hide anyway. I'm such a freak of nature. Tomorrow I'm going to speak for 2 straight hours in front of 70 people I don't know and I probably won't even break a sweat. Put me in a roomful of friends and family though, and I'll pray that the Earth will swallow me whole.
I hope not. But I do feel like hurting Roy. Tonight while we were walking he casually mentioned that he had already hit his goal weight. For those of you who are thinking, "Wait a minute...didn't he just start his diet a few weeks ago?" Why YES, you would be RIGHT!
That SOB lost nearly 10 pounds in a month. Accidently. When I asked him how he did it (since everytime I looked, he was munching on chocolate chip cookies while pretending to study so that I wouldn't bitch about the sinkful of dishes), he actually laughed and said he didn't know!
I am actually happy for him, but at the same time, PEEVED.
I have my weigh in tomorrow at Curves and as usual I'm a little nervous/excited. I've set a goal to lose a total of 40 lbs. before my youngest brother's graduation next June. My parents will probably have a large party and for the first time in ten years I don't want to have to hide from everyone because I look fat. Who am I kidding? I'll probably hide anyway. I'm such a freak of nature. Tomorrow I'm going to speak for 2 straight hours in front of 70 people I don't know and I probably won't even break a sweat. Put me in a roomful of friends and family though, and I'll pray that the Earth will swallow me whole.
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