The REAL issues

Is it just me or are the headlines a bit 'heavier' than usual? Civil unrest in Iraq, feuding Olympians, dwindling Katrina funds, landslides across Asia, Vice Presidential hunting accidents...there's no shortage of topics to debate around the water cooler. Rather than trying to keep abreast and informed of ALL the issues (it's easy to feel helpless and overwhelmed) I've chosen to dedicate all my time and efforts on just one- Nick v. Jessica.

Thanks to my dogged determination, I think I've converted at least one, maaaaybe two...people over to Team Lachey. I should state for the record that I am a staunch member of Team Lachey. And before you just "assume" that I have no credentials to talk about the matter- I'll have you know that not only did I TiVo each and every episode of all three seasons of Newlyweds, but I subscribe to People AND Us magazine as well! Sooo...ahem...back off, haters- I'm fully qualified to speculate.

Here's my take- Joe Simpson (who clearly has a svengali-like hold on his entire family) is to blame for all of this. He indulged his young, beautiful daughter's every whim and now she's spoiled and self absorbed. For the record, while yes, she can kinda sing (again, I am qualified to comment here since I sang in the church choir in high school for 2-3 months before I had to quit for failing to be able to stifle my uncontrollable yawning during the sermons), she's one of those annoying singers who oversings. She can take a one-syllable word and make it last a full minute while her face turns red and one arm madly waves around in the air- "Baby I looo-oooo-oooo-oooooo-ooooo-ooooo-oooooo-ooooooooooooooooooooo-ve you!" Je-sus I can't stand that! (I'm also bitterly jealous that I can't do it, but that's not the point.)

Anyway, I feel bad for Nick. I really do. I hate hearing about divorce, even when I've been assured that they're amicable and for the best. I just feel so devastated for everyone involved. Brad & Jen? Ripped my friggen heart out. Chad & Hillary? For the love of God you two, KEEP IT together!!!

Being one to always make lemons out of lemonade, here's what I've chosen to take away from the constant, overwhelming barrage of events in our troubled world- stop reading Time & Newsweek. Just read People & Us. You'll be happier. Dumber, but happier.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Before I rant, I want to state that for the most part, I admire and appreciate (peaceful) activists. Without them, there is no doubt we would be living in a far more dangerous world. That being said, some of them are waaay out there. And I'm not talking about the angry paint-throwing PETA infantry, I'm talking about Kevin Trudeau, author of Natural Cures "They" Don't Want You to Know About.

By and large, the reoccuring theme in his what seemed like 4,238 page book (I do hope my English teachers notice that I've finally learned what a theme is) is that we are sold toxic poison to eat/drink/medicate ourselves with, and that it's a conspiracy between the retail supermarkets, food/drug manufacturers, and the FDA. This results in us dying prematurely and suffering from diseases that (alas!) are all curable by natural methods, but are hidden from us by the drug manufacturers and FDA so that they can line their pockets with cash (the bastards)! Trudeau also believes that it is actually the food and drugs we consume that are really the cause of all disease/suffering, and that if we lived a more alternative, holistic, organic lifestyle, we would all live longer because there would be no disease.

Did you get all that? I'll leave out all his other recommendations like tossing out your microwave, getting regular colonics (not exactly sure what one is but am content to never find out), never drink tap water again, etc. Here's the thing- while I believe that YES, he is a bit of a yahoo with no academic credentials, he does raise a few good points- which is that we do eat A LOT of crap without realizing it (mostly because we are deliberately misled by slick advertising). For example, while I was initially quite excited to add Boca Burgers to my diet, that was before I actually examined the list of ingredients and realized I was eating about 30 chemicals I cannot pronounce. So much for it being a healthy meat alternative. I'm sure I'm just trading one evil for another.

Nonetheless, unless you're prepared to become Walt Whitman and buy a 20-acre farm so that you create your own utopian society- you're stuck my friend. The world is what it is. By and large, I think we have to accept that the apples we eat aren't really apples anymore, and that we'll all probably die at age 75 instead of 95 (not a problem for me).

All I can say is, I really should have read the Amazon reviews before I got this book. By and large, I find them to be an excellent resource for screening material/products. Everytime I've disregarded the general consensus I've regretted it and wasted my money.

On to my next set of yahoos- the Scientologists. If you subscribe to Rolling Stone, you've got to read the most current issue. I've been reading up on Scientology for a few months now and it's the best summary on Scientology I've seen yet. What a bizarre religion. I've lost all respect for Tom Cruise, John Travolta and Kirstie Alley's academic intellect. What legitimate church charges their followers to get cleansed (I'm sorry..."audited")?! And for what? So that when you become a senior member of the church you get to learn about how we're all really reincarnated aliens from other planets? Jeez people.

And finally...let's not forget the other celebrities. I read that Alicia Silverstone (I like her, mainly because Clueless is one of all my all time favorite movies but also because she's a long time committed vegan) recently went to get her legs waxed at a salon but first needed to call the bee farmer in France to ensure that none of the bees were harmed during the wax-collecting process. Oh, Lord. Here's a novel idea- if you're that worried about the bees, why not pick up a Schick like the rest of us?!

I generally avoid making fun of other people's beliefs (remember-I love the eccentric and I am trying to be a more compassionate, empathetic person), but you gotta admit- there are some loonies out there.

On to bigger and better things- I hit a jogging milestone today. I've only jogged 2 consecutive miles 2 other times over the last 11 months, and as I've openly shared- my pace has been horrific (12-minute miles). Last week was only the second time I've jogged 2 miles and because I knew I was in such bad shape, I made an effort to jog a couple of miles on the treadmill during the week, just to get my heart rate up and ease myself into jogging a little more.

..and it worked! Today I jogged 2 miles again and was able to do 10-minute miles! I was amazed. Roy followed me in the car since he was worried I'd be abducted (to his credit, our town did have three murders in a week about 2 months ago). My primary strategy was to pump my MP3 player loud enough to distract myself from the horrible stomachache I get whenever I jog. It didn't really work (I wanted to ralph half the time), but I'm still psyched. If I can make that much progress in a week, who knows what I can do over the next few months? As an incentive, I went to Nike and Reebok today and got myself some new running shorts (they're cut differently than my all my other Nike shorts) to motivate myself to hit the track more often. I don't think I'll ever be a 'runner,' but if I can work my way up to my goal of jogging a few more miles in the 1/2 marathons, it just might help me pass one or two senior citizens.

Up and at 'em tiger!

Being the open-minded, liberal soul that I am, I am always on a mission toward self improvement. As such, I am on day two of an attempt to see how I do at early morning workouts. Here's how it's gone so far (I'll warn you now...prepare to be inspired!!!):

Day #1- Holy crap. It's cold. I'm tired. This is ridiculous. Being thin is sooo not worth this horsecrap. Now I'm too tired to go to work. I'm really hungry now. I thought exercise was supposed to suppress appetite! Jesus- why is everyone who works out in the morning so damn skinny?! It's too crowded in the mornings. I hope I don't stink later at work. Damnit, why do I have to be so chubby?!!!

Day #2 - *&$^!!! #@*&!

Clearly I did learn one thing- and no, that I am a pathetic, spoiled, whiner is NOT it. It's that morning workouts (at least right now) aren't for me. Quite honestly, I would actually prefer to work out in the mornings. I like the idea/mindset that you have more energy, you're done early and you've made exercise the #1 priority in your day. But I've also found that I really like the relaxation I get from doing it later in the day, being able to shower at home instead of at the gym (eeew), and that I can more or less move along at my own pace/whimsy rather than being ruled by the clock. The only downsides for me are that sometimes the gym is more crowded (which is why I shoot for lunch workouts, which are also great for breaking up my workday) or I'm too tired/hungry and want to go home (I pack a healthy snack and force myself to go...or the guilt I'll have later will ruin my 'relaxing evening' at home anyway).

So for now, I'm sticking with the PM workouts, but if I've learned one thing through this journey, it's that you are NOT the person today that you were yesterday and everyday before it. I have no doubt that at some point, I may love AM workouts. I know this because roughly 11 months ago, I staunchly believed all of the following to be true:

I could never work out everyday (I'm too busy and life's too short).
I don't like going to the gym.
I don't like jogging.
I can't possibly drink 8-10 cups of water a day.
It's hard to remember to take my vitamins each day.
I can't eat any less.
I don't have the time/energy/money to prepare fresh food at every meal.
I have to eat when I'm hungry.
I just can't control myself around such good food.
I will never count calories (too demoralizing and time consuming).
I will never lose weight.
My metabolism sucks.
I will never be thin, it's just that one thing I'll never be able to do.

I was wrong. About nearly all of it.

I work out nearly everyday. And I don't hate it.
I enjoy challenging myself in the gym and reaching new goals.
I like the feeling of having jogged a few miles.
I now drink 12-14 cups of water per day without thinking about it.
I haven't missed a day of vitamins in nearly a year.
I eat about 1/3 less than I used to.
I feel very lethargic if I don't eat fresh food (which I now crave) at each meal.
I still have challenges controlling myself around food, so right now I control my environment instead, but I will get better at this.
I count every calorie I eat. It only takes a few minutes per day and I enjoy holding myself accountable.
I have lost more weight than I ever dreamed possible. More importantly, I lost all the weight I had gained over 10 years in less than 1 year. I can take my life back.
There is nothing wrong with my metabolism.
I can be thin if I want to.

If you had told me during weeks #1-12 of this journey that I would one day be easily reducing my intake and counting calories I would have smugly thought that you didn't know me. But the truth is- I didn't know me.

I'm slowly doing that now. None of that happenned overnight or without some degree of difficulty, but with each pound I shed, I've learned something new about myself. And it's actually made me so much more optimistic just thinking about the future. I am living in the exact same world I've been living in for the past 31 years, yet it suddenly seems so much bigger and brighter because I now know I can do anything and I can be anything.

The beauty of my new outlook on life is that it has also extended beyond my physical health. Six months ago I still lived in fear. I was fearful that I would regain the weight I'd lost and gain even more. Fearful of bumping into anyone I knew. Fearful of going into a store or my own closet(!) and not being able to find anything that fit. After shedding some weight, those fears naturally diminished and I could feel the empowerment, giddiness and calmness beginning to take over the fear.

I found such peace from all of this that I realized I could (and needed to!) apply the same approach to my psychological health too. I call this process (very creatively I might add) 'walking the straight and narrow.' The more honestly, simply and morally I live my life, the less stress, fear, paranoia and uncomfortability I have in my psychological health as well. I haven't felt this light, physically and mentally, in years.

I accept that I will probably have to live the next few years of my life continuing to focus/obsess about my health. Nothing worth having in life is easy. But I also look forward to the day when I no longer have to think about it quite so much and it gradually becomes a natural part of my life.

Soooo bored

Here's the deal- though I joke about it constantly, I know I'm not truly manic, obsessive-compulsive or narcissistic. Believe me, I would love nothing more than to be able to blame all my selfish behavior on mental illness, but my former-social-worker-turned-nursing-student-husband won't let me off the hook that easy. He's into totally lame concepts like "taking responsibility for your own actions." I know. I got screwed. But I cope. (I'm a fighter, remember?)

What confirmed that I'm definitely not obsessive compulsive is that I recently saw an MTV special about people with OCD. It stopped me in my tracks. I felt so bad watching what they have to endure that let me tell you, I refrained from making mental illness jokes for a long, looong time afterwards (fine...it was half a day).

Anyway, what is the point of this? Nothing really. I'm bored. And I don't want to blather on about weight loss everyday (really, I do) so I'm stuck with this pointless drivel. If I had my way I'd much rather tell you about how I found a protein bar I really, really like that I found out is on closeout so I pulled an Elaine (from Seinfeld) and went to the store and bought 'em all out today.

I've also decided to take today off from working out. I rarely do, but Roy has friends coming over and I've been given a few assignments that I need to take care of like 'make the salad' (these people are vegetarians), 'take a shower' (what the hell?!) and 'come out of the office' (damn him).

Thank you!!!

Just when I was starting to mope about not getting many comments recently (yes...I am completely overlooking the fact that all I do is obsess about weight loss every single day), I got four today!

When I started this blog I never intended to focus so much on weight loss (on ME yes, but weight loss, no). However, due to the (unexpected) supportive community out there, its evolved into what it is today. And chances are, I'll continue to focus on it because it's helped me so much. I have learned that the key to overcoming years of bad eating habits is repetition and supportive comeraderie, and this is the perfect forum for that.

Oh, and those comments about Fiber One were particularly good. Specifically, the one about it being the only cereal that makes you feel thirsty afterwards. Truer words were never spoken. The closest I can compare Fiber One too is dust. And since I don't drink milk (long story*), my technique is to get a GIANT cup of water (comparable in size to a Super Big Gulp) and take a loooong sip after each bite.

*I was lactose intolerant as an infant and was given soy milk. Consequently, I never developed a taste for real milk. But did this stop my parents from forcing it down my little throat (as I got older and was no longer lactose-intolerant)? Nooooooo!!! I had to sit at the kitchen table until every drop was drained from my cup- which for the most part, wasn't hard to do when you had a younger brother who was willing to trade my milk for his papaya. However, on the other days, this was borderline child abuse/torture and for that- I continue to hold out and refuse to drink it to this day...15 years later. So take that mom and dad!!! (No one takes a firm stand for their convictions anymore.)

Anyway, back to the Fiber One...because I'm a wannabe manic, regardless of the taste, I've decided that like tofu and the new veggie burgers I got from Costco (you can SEE all the little peas, carrots and beans mashed up in there!!!)- it is basically the 'perfect food'. It's almost as if the clouds parted and God sent Fiber One down just for me...because YES, he has nothing better to do than make sure I take a regular crap once a day.

Tonight Roy and I had a dinner date (I haven't seen the man at night since last week Tuesday since he works at night...but that's changing since he quit one of his two bartending gigs) and I had a little indulgence. Because I've now lost 42.5 pounds, I decided to have some (and by 'some' I mean a large MOUNTAIN) chips and queso (another food of the Gods, but the bad, evil Gods).

Before I go on, I know...I know...you're not supposed to reward weight loss with food, but as I've said constantly, I have YEARS of bad habits to erase. Anyway, I knew I was going to have a treat so I did a double workout today. During lunch I went to the gym and hopped on the treadmill intent on improving my "jogging pace" (really, "shuffle pace" if we're being completely honest). I was able to jog two 11-minute miles and gradually accelerated my pace until I was on 6.8 (speed) when it ended, which for me, felt like a full-fledged sprint. After that, I did a half mile of hills (15.0 incline at 3.0 pace) and lifted for a half hour.

Though I am the LEAST competitive person EVER (I like to say it's because I don't want others to lose, but that person is usually me), I did step up my treadmill workout today by observing the person next to me. I don't mean I stole glances at their display in an effort to challenge/one-up them, I mean I was motivated by the fierce look of determination on their face. It doesn't matter to me if the person next to me is thin or heavy, as long as they're working it hard, I am motivated by them. Thin people motivate me because I want to look like them, and heavier people motivate me because I want to push myself to work as hard as they are.

My second workout was at Curves, and because I got there late I had to placate the fussy staff by striking a deal to not use the recovery stations and finish sooner so they could still close early (which they held me to). Lord have mercy that was hard! I only worked out for about 20 min. but it was nonstop strength training and I was sweating badly when I finished. I doubt between both workouts I burned off the chips and queso that I ate but ahh, what the heck. Gotta live a little. No more berating myself. I ate 'em and they were damn good.

I read in the paper today that there is a new book out called something like "How to lose 9,000 pounds," which is a compiliation of tips from successful dieters on how to lose weight. I wasn't too interested (since I have developed quite the diet and fitness library over the last few months) but you better believe it's going on my Amazon/Ebay list(s) after I read one of the sample tips- a girl who lived in a cold climate put all her food in the trunk of her car and would have to walk barefoot outside in the freezing cold if she wanted a snack! Only those who gaze in the cupboards like I do day and night can relate to how f**king brilliant this crazy-a** strategy is! As much I love to nibble, if you put my food 50 yards away in 30 degree weather, thanks to my lazy a**- even I'd look like Nicole Ritchie in a week!

No wonder the elderly snicker at me...

Well, I did go jogging yesterday, that is...if you count 12-minute miles as a 'jog' (work with me here, people). The one bit of semi-redeeming news is that I was able to jog three countinous miles, which I haven't done since my 1st or 2nd year in college. Surprisingly I felt okay during the run (no exploding heart, cramping muscles, gasping for breath), but I did have a nagging stomachache throughout that was probably my body's feeble protest.

I know I shouldn't compare my pathethic performance today to the person I was back then. After all, I was over 10 years younger, a bit lighter and had the time to run nearly everyday. Unfortunately, during the race a few weeks ago, I not only had my a** whipped by people twice my age, but also by people much heavier than me who quite possibly have much less free time than me. So in my eyes, I really have no valid excuses to get in better shape. I at least want to be able to keep up with the guys with their walkers.

I will try to improve my time over the next 3-4 months and see how I feel about setting more concrete jogging goals. For the most part, I am only trying to improve my race performance rather than run the Boston Marathon (since I don't think it's an all-downhill course with a 24-hour race limit). And right now, due to logistics, I can only jog one day a week (since I have to be chaperoned by Roy for safety reasons and he's only available on the weekends). So progress, if you can call it that, will be slow.

Alrighty then, Ms. Manic is on her way over to Costco so I can get a large box of Fiber One cereal. I've been trying to steadily increase my fiber intake and all my research points to that product being the gold mine of fiber. Whereas I was once impressed by my Kashi bars having 5g (140 calories) in a serving, Fiber One packs a whopping 28g (120 calories) in a serving. I am quite sure it will taste like eating dry bran straight off the stalk but all I have to do is pour a cup down my throat every morning and I'll be fine.

Run! Run like the wind!

I've lipped off repeatedly about wanting to jog more so that I can do my next half marathon in better time (i.e.- not let 70-year olds whip my a** quite as badly). Unfortunately, since my last race 2-3 weeks ago, I have only jogged...well let's see...hmmm...oh yes, that's right- NOT A SINGLE STEP. So I'm going to attempt to jog later today. My goal is to run two or three 10-min. miles. Trust me, this is plen-ty ambitious. I am living, breathing proof that you can lose weight and still barely be able to shuffle a mile before collapsing in a pathetic heap.

Here's the main reason why I need to step it up in races-at one point during the half marathon a few weeks ago my brother Joseph and I decided to take advantage of gravity and trot down a hill. But because we were still being passed by the elderly I took to loudly annoucing every 50 yards or so that I would probably be jogging much faster if it weren't for the fact that I was six months along. With twins. This led to my brother loudly declaring that he wasn't sure if his prosthetic leg would be able to hold up either. Roy refused to play along with our obnoxious charade and instead chose to fall back from the both of us. So I would prefer to just be able to jog more than to feel like a loser the entire race.

I also figure that like anything else, jogging will get easier over time. A year ago I could barely drink 5-6 cups of water and now I'm downing 12-14 per day with no problem. I just have to be open minded and willing to push myself outside of my comfort zone, which I rarely if ever do.

Oh, and thanks for the helpful comments on trying to help me lose some of the fat off my upper arms. I will definitely keep at it. I've already been cursed with short, stumpy 'man legs' so I refuse to accept that my arms will have to look like those of a Ukranian shot putter forever.

And to end on a positive note- thanks to a semi-successful week of exercise and dietary self-restraint I was able to shed the 1-2 pounds I picked up in Hawaii. When I went to the Gap this morning and bought a womens tracksuit I was able to fit into a size...small! I can't even remember the last time I fit a size small. Probably high school, but I don't think I even fit a small in college. Of course my next stop at Nike brought me straight back to reality since I had to buy my black sports bra in a size "XL." Thank you for fu**ing with us, clothes manufacturers (and they wonder why we have issues)!!!

Some pictures from the rock

We had two days on the island before my mother's surgery on Monday morning. We spent both those days at the beach! This is me on the first day at Kahalu'u Beach Park.



This is where we hiked down to the second day (Kealakekua Bay).

These are my two nephews...Kenny & Ricky. Not only am I grateful to them for taking ALL the heat off me to procreate and carry on the family name, but they are also very cute. Here they are in the new car we got them for Christmas. They're half naked because every kid in Hawaii is half naked. Yep. Pretty much all the time.

This is Roy swimming in Kealakekua Bay. There is no body of water he won't jump into, but then again...we haven't made it to the Ganges yet. The color of the water sure is purty ain't it?

Water Drinking Machine

I swore I wasn't going to write about weight loss today but I can't help it- yesterday I had a few breakthroughs! For starters, without really trying to, I drank EIGHTEEN cups of water. Definitely a personal record. For those of you who also nearly failed 3rd, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th AND 12th grade math (uh...yeah. Sure. I'm joking) or are raging alcoholics- this is the equivalent of 9 pints of water. About ten months ago, I was struggling to put down 5 cups down per day. So yeah, that's right- hollaaah wit me people.

I also decided to no longer hem and haw about whether losing ten more pounds before my next trip to Hawaii (late May) is possible or not. I'm just going to do it. This is about a pound per week. Ambitious, I know...but why set the bar low? Besides, in addition to the consensus I've received here in California, I also had 3-4 people back home ask me if I planned to lose any more weight and NOT ONE OF them protested, fake-protested or even looked remotely shocked when I said ten more. Not one. F**kers. So now I'm definitely on the hook for ten more.

Like I said, I still have one heck of a gut and the kind of thighs that could feed a starving tribe of cannibals for a month...if they're on Atkins- a week. And lets not forget those arms that have managed to stubbornly remain the EXACT SAME measurements for ten months. I am rapidly making Curves history with this feat. The Curves slogan of "Amaze Yourself" is definitely not an issue here. Trust me, I am amazed. Truly f***ing amazed that I can lose 40 pounds and still not lose one measly little ounce in my flabby upper arms.

Oh, and before I forget, Happy Valentines Day! Though Roy and I never usually celebrate Valentines Day, this year he got me The Biggest Loser Workout DVD. Yippie! I'd been wanting it for weeks. And I gotta tell you, though they're "only" about 20 min. each, those were the HARDEST workouts I've done in a long time. The so called 'low impact' workout was also the hardest. I now know why the contestants have repeated emotional breakdowns in the middle of a workout. Clearly I've never pushed myself to the breaking point like a good trainer can. Call me a sadist, but as someone who panties out nearly every workout (Just ten more minutes on this machine! Naah, maybe five...aw hell. Two is good.), I actually want to be pushed and reduced to tears once in awhile.

So I'm thrilled to have the Biggest Loser workout. I really like Bob Harper. I mean I reeeally like Bob Harper. I still haven't gotten my four Jillian Michael's workouts yet though. In the meantime (remember, manic and ADD) I also bought 4 new Tae Bo DVDs (Foundation & Energy & Cardio, both kinda light so therefore being resold on Ebay) and the advanced Get Ripped series. So I now have plenty of home workouts to kick my lazy okole in gear!

Last night a friend also told me about the upcoming Relay for Life races, so I've already found one in my area. I don't know enough people to form a team and if there's one thing I'm not, it's a solicitor donations, so I think I'm going to just pay the $$ and do it on my own. I am positive I won't last 24 hours but I have to do something motivational since my vow that I was going to jog more in preparation for my next half marathon hasn't quite worked out. Since then, I have jogged exactly, well let's see now...ah yes, brace yourselves...exactly 100 yards (or one quarter of one lap)!

Back in the saddle again... Yee-haw!

After a week of glutinous instant gratification (the poi...fresh banana bread...mochi...loco moco...Big Island Grill haupia cake...all of it...ahhh) I am back on the straight and narrow. And strangely enough, I'm not even sullen about it. Yes. Really.

Throughout the trip I was aware that I was eating and snacking too much, and at one point briefly panicked thinking that it meant I had backslided into my old ways again. Upon further reflection though, I ultimately decided that I did not- for starters, I was conscious of each bite. There was almost no mindless eating. And though I wasn't nearly as diligent with my food journal (since we all know that eating food off your picky nephew's plate doesn't count) I still made a point to eat healthy meals each day. And even though we were quite busy with cleaning, caretaking, and babysitting each day, I still worked out every day except one (and enjoyed the Hawaiian ambiance while doing so). And toward the end of our trip, I was actually a bit eager/relieved to go back to California again (only so I could get back on track). So while I didn't exactly practice the level of self discipline I had hoped to, I didn't panic, give up or wallow in self pity either.

Because I know I tend to b**ch and moan relentlessly about any sort of weight gain, this paragraph may shock you- I probably gained 3.5 pounds over the trip, and I don't care.

It's quite liberating to be able to write that without any pain in my heart. In fact, I think it should be the new introduction to all Overeaters Anonymous meetings across the land- "Hi, my name is Petunia Humperdinkle. I've gained 3 pounds and I don't care." Because hell, haven't we all been controlled by our weight long enough? How many times have we denied ourselves complete happiness until we've lost some weight?

I really like that. I've gained 3 pounds and I don't care.

Now if anyone's squirming reading this, I'm not saying I'm going to go home and gorge on twelve boxes of Ding Dongs (uum duh...that was yesterday) , but I am going to seriously try to continue to not care about minor fluctuations anymore. It's not like dismissing a few pounds means I'm in denial...it just means I'm not going to worry about 3-4 pounds because I know I will lose them again.

About a week ago I browsed through a book titled Do I look fat in this? Life does not begin five pounds from now and found a few insightful thoughts. The author (Jessica Weiner) dissects the oft-repeated wail of women who walk around moaning "I feel fat" all day long (for the record, I think those women are utterly ridiculous...I only wailed it 20-30 times per day but certainly not all day. How pathetic). Anyway, the author points out that fat is NOT a feeling. Sure, sure, we all know what saying "I feel fat" means, but being ragingly pissed, euphoric or horribly depressed- those are feelings. Fat is not one of them. How does one feel like millions of enlarged cells?

So today I was fired up to kick some a** even though I was pretty tired. We didn't get home until midnight last night (Roy was fuming at the traffic and at "all the f***ing morons who don't know how to drive" i.e.- people like me) so I had less than five hours of sleep. But I still prepared a healthy breakfast and lunch of fresh fruit, vegetables and nuts; packed my work out bag for a good gym session; and have downed bottle after bottle of water all day long. I guarantee by week's end I will be back. Feelin' like a million bucks. Wearin' my gold chain. Ready to roll.

Gotta love the old timers...

The town that I grew up in is a shadow of its former self. Sure, sure, the beautiful landscape and weather hasn't changed, but the population has boomed, with near all of it coming from mainland transplants. This has changed the culture of the community quite drastically, so it's not as common to have a conversation like the one I had yesterday:

(Florist calls to get directions to deliver flowers for my mother)

Josie: Hello?

Florist: Hah? Oh, sorry, sorry ah? I get some flowahs 'fo Joan Furukawa. I need directions and 'eh- no tell yo maddah, ah? It's one gift 'as why!

Josie: We live on Kuakini, just before Kam III intersection. Once you see the-

Florist: OH! So you by the biiig boat 'den!

Josie: Yeah.

Florist: Past 'da two same kine houses wit 'da plenny orchids? On the mauka side?

Josie: Yup.

Florist: Kay 'den.

With the influx of all the mainlanders, this is how this conversation usually goes nowadays:

Josie: Hello?

Florist: Well hello there!!! This is Joan from Tropical Creations! I need directions so I can deliver a bouquet to Joan....Foo, Foo-ra...oh dear. I'm not sure you pronounce this! (Giggle)

Josie: Ms. Furukawa. No problem. We live on Kuakini, just before Kam III intersection. Once you see the-

Florist: Kua-what? What's that? Isn't that Highway 19?

Josie: I guess. I don't know what the highway number is. But we're just past the two houses with all the orchids. On the mauka side.

Florist: Huh? Orchids? Mow-kah? What's that?

Josie: Nevermind. You know...the house with the really big boat? We're right next door to that one.

Florist: Big boat? Whaaat?! There are an awful lot of big boats around here. I have NO idea what you're talking about. Why don't you give me your street address?

Josie: Alllriiight...but it won't help- you can't really see the mailboxes from the road.

Florist: (in a firm voice) Just give me the address please! We'll find it.

(And no, she won't. She'll call me screaming bloody murder in twenty minute intervals for about an hour before she does eventually find it.)

Ah, gotta love the old timers.

Hawai'i Nei!

It's never fun going back home because a parent is sick. The trip definitely takes on a more somber tone, and if you have any decency at all- you avoid doing things like going out, getting drunk on mai tais and then waking up the next morning with a bad hangover and a Hells Angels tattoo inked across your a**. Sooo umm...yeah. Does anybody know how much tattoo removal is?

We flew out Saturday morning and unfortunately (we have a knack for this), sat in front of what was quite possibly the world's unhappiest baby EVER. This child wailed from take off to landing. I don't think I've seen a human being cry that much since my brother Joseph watched back to back episodes of Extreme Makeover Home Edition! Anyway, thankfully the little crier didn't set the tone for the rest of the trip. The weather here has been picture perfect- blue skies and cool balmy breezes everyday. A few highlights:

My mother's surgery went well. We checked her in on Monday morning, and though it's never a good sign when every nurse, doctor, anesthesiologist and CNA greets your mother by name, because this is her 4th surgery in 3 months, it was not too surprising. She had a rough 1st night at the hospital because they accidentally gave her morphine, which she has a bad reaction to. This resulted in severe nausea and vomiting. If all goes well, she'll be ready for her chemo and radiation in a month (as I type this she's watching her 1,279th straight hour of some craft show on tv. Apparently there is a channel dedicated to such things, which means there is a lot more to arts and crafts than the pathetic, mishapen clay figurines I bribed Liana Yangson-Wilcox into making for me back in 7th grade (not that it helped, I still got a D...thanks a lot Liana).

I also had an enlightening massage yesterday. It wasn't great, but I've found that getting a great massage is like chasing your first coke high. Or maybe it's ice. I'm not sure. But you get the drift. I've had two great masseuses in my life, and since then, I've had dozens of massages that don't even come close to them. Anyway, aside from the crockpot that I had to sidestep while getting onto the table (don't ask me...but I certainly can't fault someone for wanting to multi-task), I had what felt more like a therapy session than a massage. I won't go into the boring details but she exemplified the type of attitude toward the Earth, other people and health that I hope to have myself someday (I'm evolving. YES, I KNOW...VERY SLOWLY.)

The day before my mother's surgery we got to hike that trail near our land and Oh. My. Gosh. Ten times better than expected. Not because of the actual path- the path kinda sucks. It's a bit steep, tall grass on both sides obstruct the view, plenty of loose rocks, etc. But about 2/3 of the way down you get to this clearing where all you see is the bright blue sea and miles of black lava rock. Beautiful. And about 10 minutes later- you're on your own private beach at the end of a bay (not accessible by foot) with crystal clear blue waters and thousands of brightly colored tropical fish darting about. Quite tranquil. The only other people there were a tiny handful of kayakers and the occasional snorkeler. I'll be sure to post pictures once we get back.

Yesterday my father chopped down the most delicious apple bananas from his front yard. Because there were over 80 of them, I decided to put Martha Stewart to shame (SAY MY NAME, MARTHA!) and baked banana bread and cookies for over six hours today. I ended up using about 70 of the bananas and made 20 loaves! In a few minutes we're about to head out and drop most of them off to family and friends.

Really, nothing has gone wrong, well, if you don't count the mangled knee I got from riding down the slide with my 3-year old nephew (why are those things so scary nowadays?!!), the RAMPANT OUT OF CONTROL OVEREATING and that little incident of forgetting to feed my other nephew...apparently babies are not content with 'just dinner' and get hungry every few hours. And if you knew that- where the hell were you when he wailed for an hour straight that night? Toodles for now!

Oh for the love of God...

Last night I watched my most recent TiVo'd episode of The Biggest Loser. Now I have absolutely nothing against wops, oops...I meant greaseballs...damnit! I meant Italians!!! (I am totally kidding...this is the race that created my favorite foods after all, and for that- I worship them). However, that episode was the first one that did not motivate me. In fact, two people on the Italian family actually pissed me off. If you watched it, you know which two- the mother and daughter. They were very whiny and overdefensive, which I think contributed to the mother losing very little weight compared to every other participant in the history of the show. Boy did I want to smack 'em. God knows I would never whine like that...

BAAA HA HA HA HAAAA!

Anyway, after all the drama I went through with my weight this week, I was actually 2.5 pounds lighter this morning. I probably stared at the scale for a full ten seconds in shock. At this point, I may have to accept that my theory on daily weigh-ins is flawed- because sometimes I just don't get it. In any case, that puts me at 41.5 pounds lost, which is a good feeling...that is, until I sit down and still see a huge gut hanging out. Ah well, it keeps me humble. This is partly why I still did a double workout today and ate like Mary Kate. No worries, I still ate 1400 calories, I just spread them out over 4 meals and like yesterday, had no meat. I can't help it, I just love animals too much...

BAAA HA HA HA HAAAA!

Time to go pack...is it a bad sign that I'm more excited about packing my healthy snacks than my clothes? My latest obsession? Kashi bars from Costco! (Thanks Lana!) They're low cal, high in fiber, and pretty filling (and I use the words 'pretty filling' quite loosely, since what I truly find filling would require the use of a trough). Yeah. I never said I lost my appetite.

Aloha 'oe party people! More from the islands tomorrow!

Me v. The Fajitas (the saga continues!)

I weighed myself this morning and was relieved and surprised to "only" be one pound heavier than I was a few days ago (meaning I've lost 2 of the 3 pounds I gained a few days ago). Though I was pretty euphoric about it, I was still pretty huffy about the whole thing. So once again, I decided to stop moping and instead direct my frustation into doing something about it.

Today at lunch I did a hard 45 min. on the elliptical and then lifted for another 15 min. before heading back to the office. Then after work I went back to the gym for a second workout. I jogged a mile on the treadmill to warm up, then did 20 min. of steep hills (15.0 incline, 3.0 speed), and 20 more min. of weights. If the machines are to be believed, I burned 700 calories on them, and another 100 calories from lifting weights.

I also made sure to increase the number of times I ate in order to keep my metabolism revved up (to do both workouts):

Breakfast- strawberries and 1/2 oat bran muffin
Lunch- light yogurt and 1 whole wheat craisin-walnut muffin
Snack- banana and a Hershey's Kiss
Dinner- 2 soy burgers with fresh broccoli/cauliflower
Water- drank a whopping 14 cups today (which about equalled my trips to the bathroom)!

I can't say it's ever fun working out twice a day, but whenever I do, I feel like I'm kicking a**. And I've learned that this feeling is particularly important whenever the scale isn't giving the numbers I want. Intellectually, I know that whenever the scale goes up it isn't always my fault, but it doesn't make it any easier to handle. I nearly always end up feeling depressed and vulnerable. So I've learned that whenever this happens, I just need to redirect my attention and energy toward something positive instead- finishing a great hike, going on a long walk, running 2 miles without stopping, etc.

It's funny, six months ago I was petrified of gaining back weight. A part of me will always be terrified about this, but I become more and more confident about myself, since everytime I've backpedaled- instead of giving up, I get mad and do something about it.

And as to why I weigh myself so often, well, there are two schools of thought regarding how often you should weigh yourself. In my opinion, both make sense. It just depends on a person's preference. The more traditional, widely-held belief is that you shouldn't weigh yourself more than once every one or two weeks. This way you avoid all of the minor/temporary weight fluctations.

The other school, which I clearly subscribe too, advocates daily weigh ins. This is done so that you can be more mindful of the immediate impact of your actions (good or bad). Though it does result in more sulking each month, I've chosen to do it this way because I feel like I wouldn't necessarily learn from my mistakes (if I didn't know exactly what they were). In my opinion, it's much harder to pinpoint why you gained 2 pounds over a 2-week period than a one-day period. I'd also become increasingly nervous and paranoid over the two week period without knowing my weight. And I'm already plenty nervous and paranoid on my own thank you very much.

I've also started the color coding of exercises, and have decided to create my own consolidated food/motivational/exercise journal. At present I tote around two different books to monitor everything, and keep searching fruitlessly for a journal that can do it all in one. I finally realized, why not make my own? All it takes is Word, some creativity, and a trip to Kinkos!

So I'm not sure I'll be able to shed this final pound before I go home this weekend. And I'm sad that I may not be able to tell everyone I've lost '"40 pounds" when they ask like I'd been hoping to for two months. But I do know this- I never gave up. So f*** those fajitas. They won't get the best of me.