I made salmon for the first time in my life tonight. (I don't really LIKE salmon. But I'm trying to eat it a little more because I know it's good for me.) It's too spicy for Jim. He's not home yet, but won't love it. And because it's actually very spicy, I've adjusted the seasoning below. Original recipe found on AllRecipes.com.
Note: You'll have more spice mix than fish. I'm going to save it and use it to roast cauliflower with later this week.
Blackened Salmon
Two 6 oz portions of salmon, skin removed
2 Tbsp paprika
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1 Tbsp onion powder
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp each thyme, oregano, basil
Olive oil
Sprinkle both sides of fish with seasoning mix. Put a little olive oil in a hot pan. (Make sure your exhaust fan is on!) Drop fish in and let it sear. I flipped it when it started to smoke "too much." Sear second side. Depending on how thick the fillet is, the fish may not be done all the way through. I like my salmon DONE. So I put it in a 375 degree oven until it was very firm and opaque all the way through.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
27 x 34
I think 27 x 34 was the size of the first pair of Levi's I can remember buying. Gray corduroys from Martin's in Whitewater, circa 9th grade.
I know, I know ... there's no way I wear a 34 length. But I swear that's what they were.
I love the idea of buying jeans, or anything, this way. You measure your waist, you measure your inseam and you go pick the pair of pants from the shelf that matches those numbers. Easy, peasy.
Of course, it's how men still buy things ... jeans/pants, dress shirts, suit coats. How'd they get so lucky?
I have been shopping for our vaca. Here's what I bought:
Size 8 shorts and capris.
Size 10 "fancy" dress
Size Large casual dress
Size Medium and XL shirts
Swimming suit tops in a size 12, size 14 and size Large
Swimming suit bottoms in size Medium and size 10
One-piece slimming swimming suit in a size 10
I've borrowed this from my sister:
1 size 13 skirt
2 size 10 shorts
Really? Is it a conspiracy to keep us guessing? Or do they think we LIKE spending all that time in a fitting room? Irritating as hell.
No matter what size you are, you really aren't, I guess. Pick the smallest one and cut the tags out of the rest.
I know, I know ... there's no way I wear a 34 length. But I swear that's what they were.
I love the idea of buying jeans, or anything, this way. You measure your waist, you measure your inseam and you go pick the pair of pants from the shelf that matches those numbers. Easy, peasy.
Of course, it's how men still buy things ... jeans/pants, dress shirts, suit coats. How'd they get so lucky?
I have been shopping for our vaca. Here's what I bought:
Size 8 shorts and capris.
Size 10 "fancy" dress
Size Large casual dress
Size Medium and XL shirts
Swimming suit tops in a size 12, size 14 and size Large
Swimming suit bottoms in size Medium and size 10
One-piece slimming swimming suit in a size 10
I've borrowed this from my sister:
1 size 13 skirt
2 size 10 shorts
Really? Is it a conspiracy to keep us guessing? Or do they think we LIKE spending all that time in a fitting room? Irritating as hell.
No matter what size you are, you really aren't, I guess. Pick the smallest one and cut the tags out of the rest.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Restaurant Revelations
While it can be tough to find good choices when you're out, we found a couple this weekend.
Fudruckers now has a turkey burger, veggie burger and a salmon filet sandwich. Avoiding the french fries, onion rings and disgustingly yummy cheese sauce from a ketchup pump dispenser is hard. But you can do it.
(And, SOMEHOW, Uncle Jim misunderstood Miss O's request for mint chocolate chip ice cream and got her regular vanilla chocolate ship. Drats. The bottom lip came out a little, so that meant Jim and I got to share the "mistake" after he replaced it with the right thing. Yay!)
Noodles and Company also offers whole wheat pasta and 16 dishes with 400 calories or less. Obvioulsy, it's the "small" sizes, but it's something. When you're in a pinch, and fast-ish food is unavoidable, it's good to know there are options.
Fudruckers now has a turkey burger, veggie burger and a salmon filet sandwich. Avoiding the french fries, onion rings and disgustingly yummy cheese sauce from a ketchup pump dispenser is hard. But you can do it.
(And, SOMEHOW, Uncle Jim misunderstood Miss O's request for mint chocolate chip ice cream and got her regular vanilla chocolate ship. Drats. The bottom lip came out a little, so that meant Jim and I got to share the "mistake" after he replaced it with the right thing. Yay!)
Noodles and Company also offers whole wheat pasta and 16 dishes with 400 calories or less. Obvioulsy, it's the "small" sizes, but it's something. When you're in a pinch, and fast-ish food is unavoidable, it's good to know there are options.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Don't You Miss Eating?
I heard this question today when I picked up my lunch.
Nearly every day, I pop into the little breakroom on the 4th floor, grab a raw veggie cup, two hard boiled eggs and a container of skim milk. Depending on the selection, I might substitute a string cheese for the milk or eggs. Or add an apple or orange if I'm hungry. But generally, it's pretty much the same thing every day.
Today, the lady that rings me up looked at me and very honestly asked, "Don't you miss eating? Does it get easier or is it hard every day? Don't you miss it?"
"But I DO eat," I replied. "I eat. I eat a lot." But she really made me think on the way back to my desk.
Do I miss eating? Do I really feel deprived and MISS it? Is it hard to eat what I'm eating?
And, honestly, the answer is no. I don't miss eating like I used to eat. In fact, I LIKE the veggies and the fruit and I don't miss the meat nearly as much as I would have predicted.
I do miss some things, though.
I miss the "ease" of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I miss the ease of not having to plan the day or the week out to make sure I get enough fish or don't get too many carbs in one sitting. I miss the ease of fast fix meals from a box when I'm running behind.
Because, let's face it. I'm lazy.
But I don't miss eating. Because I do eat.
I LOVE cheese. I eat cheese. Just not a lot and not every day.
I LOVE cheeseburgers. I eat cheeseburgers. But now I probably have one a month made from beef. And maybe one a month made from ground turkey.
I LOVE crusty, chewy french baguettes or bagels or sourdough. With cheese. And I don't eat any of them much at all. But when I do, I sit down and make it an event.
I LOVE pork tenderloin and pulled pork and pork tacos. I eat pork. But when I do, it's not more than a couple of times a month and I skip the potatoes and bread and other things that go with it.
I LOVE ice cream. I eat ice cream. Cones. One at a time from Dairy Queen or McD's where it's ice milk, not Culver's custard. And instead of buying a gallon from the grocery store, Jim and I only stop for a treat every once in a while.
I LOVE potato chips. I eat potato chips. Yeah, sometimes they're baked (which are really awful, IMHO), but there's also a bag of reduced fat Kettle cooked chips in the pantry right now. They were opened in October, I think. And still crunchy. I just haven't "needed" to eat them. I can usually find a better choice.
So, I don't really miss eating.
And I certainly don't miss the 84 pounds that have disappeared, either.
Nearly every day, I pop into the little breakroom on the 4th floor, grab a raw veggie cup, two hard boiled eggs and a container of skim milk. Depending on the selection, I might substitute a string cheese for the milk or eggs. Or add an apple or orange if I'm hungry. But generally, it's pretty much the same thing every day.
Today, the lady that rings me up looked at me and very honestly asked, "Don't you miss eating? Does it get easier or is it hard every day? Don't you miss it?"
"But I DO eat," I replied. "I eat. I eat a lot." But she really made me think on the way back to my desk.
Do I miss eating? Do I really feel deprived and MISS it? Is it hard to eat what I'm eating?
And, honestly, the answer is no. I don't miss eating like I used to eat. In fact, I LIKE the veggies and the fruit and I don't miss the meat nearly as much as I would have predicted.
I do miss some things, though.
I miss the "ease" of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I miss the ease of not having to plan the day or the week out to make sure I get enough fish or don't get too many carbs in one sitting. I miss the ease of fast fix meals from a box when I'm running behind.
Because, let's face it. I'm lazy.
But I don't miss eating. Because I do eat.
I LOVE cheese. I eat cheese. Just not a lot and not every day.
I LOVE cheeseburgers. I eat cheeseburgers. But now I probably have one a month made from beef. And maybe one a month made from ground turkey.
I LOVE crusty, chewy french baguettes or bagels or sourdough. With cheese. And I don't eat any of them much at all. But when I do, I sit down and make it an event.
I LOVE pork tenderloin and pulled pork and pork tacos. I eat pork. But when I do, it's not more than a couple of times a month and I skip the potatoes and bread and other things that go with it.
I LOVE ice cream. I eat ice cream. Cones. One at a time from Dairy Queen or McD's where it's ice milk, not Culver's custard. And instead of buying a gallon from the grocery store, Jim and I only stop for a treat every once in a while.
I LOVE potato chips. I eat potato chips. Yeah, sometimes they're baked (which are really awful, IMHO), but there's also a bag of reduced fat Kettle cooked chips in the pantry right now. They were opened in October, I think. And still crunchy. I just haven't "needed" to eat them. I can usually find a better choice.
So, I don't really miss eating.
And I certainly don't miss the 84 pounds that have disappeared, either.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Unexpected Downside of Being Thinner #6
You comfortably fit in the middle seat on the airplane.
Which means you get to sit there. Note to self: Still ask for the aisle.
Which means you get to sit there. Note to self: Still ask for the aisle.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Offsetting Off Program
Traveling again for work. Harder this time because of distance and schedule.
Tues: Up at 3:45 a.m. to catch 6 a.m. flight. No workout. Arrive in Atlanta at 9:30 a.m., and walk a freaking mile at least from one end of the airport to the other ... on purpose. Trying to sneak in a workout. Head to hotel, set up booth and work from 1-8 p.m. Grab a salad at lunch, eat opening night reception food around 5 p.m. which consists of two small plates of sweet potato fries and a chocolate covered strawberry. Then walk to restaurant a couple of blocks away and eat salad with blackened salmon.
Wed: Up at 4:45 a.m. to get 1 hour in on treadmill. Walk 4.25 miles and safely in booth at 7 a.m. Breakfast meeting at 10 a.m. (two eggs over easy, turkey sausage and wheat toast) and back to the airport at 3 p.m. Again walk the length of the airport instead of taking the train ... though I really think twice about it. I'm tired.
Now I'm trying to find something decent to eat for dinner before I board.
My point? When you can't do it like you want to, do the best you can. Grab the exercise when an opportunity presents itself. And don't worry too much about a plate or two of sweet potato fries.
Tues: Up at 3:45 a.m. to catch 6 a.m. flight. No workout. Arrive in Atlanta at 9:30 a.m., and walk a freaking mile at least from one end of the airport to the other ... on purpose. Trying to sneak in a workout. Head to hotel, set up booth and work from 1-8 p.m. Grab a salad at lunch, eat opening night reception food around 5 p.m. which consists of two small plates of sweet potato fries and a chocolate covered strawberry. Then walk to restaurant a couple of blocks away and eat salad with blackened salmon.
Wed: Up at 4:45 a.m. to get 1 hour in on treadmill. Walk 4.25 miles and safely in booth at 7 a.m. Breakfast meeting at 10 a.m. (two eggs over easy, turkey sausage and wheat toast) and back to the airport at 3 p.m. Again walk the length of the airport instead of taking the train ... though I really think twice about it. I'm tired.
Now I'm trying to find something decent to eat for dinner before I board.
My point? When you can't do it like you want to, do the best you can. Grab the exercise when an opportunity presents itself. And don't worry too much about a plate or two of sweet potato fries.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #8
I was comfortable on an airplane.
I could cross my legs. I didn't have to actively hold my arms in at my sides to prevent me from touching my seatmates. I could walk down the aisle to the fantastic bathroom (such a FUN trip!) without turning sideways the whole way.
P.S. If you're looking for a minor workout, fly in to Atlanta, land in concourse C and walk the whole way to baggage claim! Skip the moving walkways. It's a freaking hike.
I could cross my legs. I didn't have to actively hold my arms in at my sides to prevent me from touching my seatmates. I could walk down the aisle to the fantastic bathroom (such a FUN trip!) without turning sideways the whole way.
P.S. If you're looking for a minor workout, fly in to Atlanta, land in concourse C and walk the whole way to baggage claim! Skip the moving walkways. It's a freaking hike.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Food Hangover
Had a great Packer party yesterday ... victory is SWEET! Made reasonably healthy snacks. Didn't drink a single drop of alcohol.
And felt like crap today.
I'm calling it a food hangover.
I didn't eat anything too terrible. Just ate Way. Too. Much. Too many raw veggies. Too much dip. Too many crackers. Too much cheese. Too much fruit. Too much salt.
And my friend the scale said I gained 3 pounds over the weekend. Ugh.
Back on the horse today. Traveling for work early tomorrow morning to Atlanta. Returning home Wednesday night. I packed one set of workout clothes and hope to squeeze some sort of activity in Wednesday morning.
Wish me luck. Hope you have some, too.
And felt like crap today.
I'm calling it a food hangover.
I didn't eat anything too terrible. Just ate Way. Too. Much. Too many raw veggies. Too much dip. Too many crackers. Too much cheese. Too much fruit. Too much salt.
And my friend the scale said I gained 3 pounds over the weekend. Ugh.
Back on the horse today. Traveling for work early tomorrow morning to Atlanta. Returning home Wednesday night. I packed one set of workout clothes and hope to squeeze some sort of activity in Wednesday morning.
Wish me luck. Hope you have some, too.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Is Image Everything?
Seeing your own reflection seems easy, right? In theory, you look in a mirror and you know exactly what you look like.
Or you should. Seeing is believing, they say.
But I find the mirror the least reliable source of information.
Here's my point: Your brain interprets what your eyes see, and your BRAIN is horribly UNreliable. It's unreliable because it's crowded with feelings and beliefs and judgements and opinions and hopes and fears ... You get the idea.
When I was in high school, I thought I was enormous. I thought I was a squishy girl when compared to the other girls. I remember going on a "no food" diet for about a week when Diet Coke was the only sustenance. I got into a tiny pair of baby pink Levi jeans (bought at the JCP in downtown FA, for those of you that remember that) and it resulted in me all but passing out at the Janesville Mall on a Friday night.
Looking back at photos now, I can't see squishy anywhere. I was an athlete, sturdier in build than waif-like girls, but not squishy at all. Proportionate, strong, lean even. In my mind's eye, however, that was not the case.
Early in my career, I also thought I was more than sturdy. I began to hide the flaws I thought were there in "comfortable" clothes. Remember stirrup pants and trapeze tops?
As I got bigger ... truly bigger ... I didn't see big. I saw sturdy. Moving from missy to plus sizes wasn't as arresting as it should have been. They don't make things for "curvy" girls, I reasoned. And, when I looked in the mirror, I saw someone SMALLER than I really was.
I thought I was hiding my real size with decent clothes. That the clothes would help me look smaller, and no one would notice what the overall me really was. I would walk up to the glass doors at work studying my reflection ... was that me or is there distortion?
It wasn't until I saw a photo of myself on my 40th birthday that it really hit me. Who was that person sitting there? My head looked so small in proportion to the rest of me.
I began quizzing Jim when we were out in humanity ... "Do I look bigger or smaller than her? She is shaped like me, right? Is my butt that wide?" I wasn't doing it to fish for a compliment or to get him to lie to me and make me feel better. I was doing it to get my own vision in line with reality. I seriously couldn't tell where I fit on the continuum or what I looked like.
I tried on some summer clothes yesterday, including swimming suits, and had the same mind-bending experience. I'm still convinced I look sort of enormous sometimes. And I know it's not true. But I honestly don't know what the hell I look like.
I know I am--and therefore look--thinner than I did before, but I can really only see it when I compare my drivers license photo from 2 years ago to the one I have today. In them, I look like two different people. In fact, I carry the old one around so I have some tangible proof.
And I still see the old me in the reflection of the glass doors.
Or you should. Seeing is believing, they say.
But I find the mirror the least reliable source of information.
Here's my point: Your brain interprets what your eyes see, and your BRAIN is horribly UNreliable. It's unreliable because it's crowded with feelings and beliefs and judgements and opinions and hopes and fears ... You get the idea.
When I was in high school, I thought I was enormous. I thought I was a squishy girl when compared to the other girls. I remember going on a "no food" diet for about a week when Diet Coke was the only sustenance. I got into a tiny pair of baby pink Levi jeans (bought at the JCP in downtown FA, for those of you that remember that) and it resulted in me all but passing out at the Janesville Mall on a Friday night.
Looking back at photos now, I can't see squishy anywhere. I was an athlete, sturdier in build than waif-like girls, but not squishy at all. Proportionate, strong, lean even. In my mind's eye, however, that was not the case.
Early in my career, I also thought I was more than sturdy. I began to hide the flaws I thought were there in "comfortable" clothes. Remember stirrup pants and trapeze tops?
As I got bigger ... truly bigger ... I didn't see big. I saw sturdy. Moving from missy to plus sizes wasn't as arresting as it should have been. They don't make things for "curvy" girls, I reasoned. And, when I looked in the mirror, I saw someone SMALLER than I really was.
I thought I was hiding my real size with decent clothes. That the clothes would help me look smaller, and no one would notice what the overall me really was. I would walk up to the glass doors at work studying my reflection ... was that me or is there distortion?
It wasn't until I saw a photo of myself on my 40th birthday that it really hit me. Who was that person sitting there? My head looked so small in proportion to the rest of me.
I began quizzing Jim when we were out in humanity ... "Do I look bigger or smaller than her? She is shaped like me, right? Is my butt that wide?" I wasn't doing it to fish for a compliment or to get him to lie to me and make me feel better. I was doing it to get my own vision in line with reality. I seriously couldn't tell where I fit on the continuum or what I looked like.
I tried on some summer clothes yesterday, including swimming suits, and had the same mind-bending experience. I'm still convinced I look sort of enormous sometimes. And I know it's not true. But I honestly don't know what the hell I look like.
I know I am--and therefore look--thinner than I did before, but I can really only see it when I compare my drivers license photo from 2 years ago to the one I have today. In them, I look like two different people. In fact, I carry the old one around so I have some tangible proof.
And I still see the old me in the reflection of the glass doors.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Game Day Snacks
We just prepped for the big game tomorrow. Feel free to stop in if you're nearby. As of right now the gathering will be small, but loud!
Here's the menu. Hearty enough for those who don't have to worry and well-behaved enough for the rest of us.
1. Make your own subs: ham, turkey, roast beef, smoked Gouda, Diamond marble, queso fresco, tomatoes, lettuce, onions, light mayo, sweet pepper rings, stone ground mustard, honey mustard, pesto, normal sub rolls, whole wheat flat bread and a French baguette.
2. Veggie tray: Duh. Dip made from half light sour cream, half non-fat plain yogurt.
3. Crackers and dip: Water crackers and dip made from light cream cheese and sweet red pepper relish.
4. Soup: Soften up some onions, carrots and garlic in a soup pot with olive oil, salt and pepper. Cut up a smoked turkey sausage (sold by ring bologna) and throw it in. Cube a big sweet potato and a regular potato. Dump it in the pot with a big box of stock. Add water to cover the potatoes in needed. Bring to boil, season with whatever you like. I used paprika and cumin. When the potatoes are fork tender, add a few handfuls of kale. Let it wilt. Add a little bit of nutmeg and adjust salt/pepper.
5. Fruit salad: pineapple, cantaloupe, blueberries and blackberries. Debating on making a lemon quick bread to serve with it.
Now, if Green Bay can just get it done!!!!! Fingers crossed.
Here's the menu. Hearty enough for those who don't have to worry and well-behaved enough for the rest of us.
1. Make your own subs: ham, turkey, roast beef, smoked Gouda, Diamond marble, queso fresco, tomatoes, lettuce, onions, light mayo, sweet pepper rings, stone ground mustard, honey mustard, pesto, normal sub rolls, whole wheat flat bread and a French baguette.
2. Veggie tray: Duh. Dip made from half light sour cream, half non-fat plain yogurt.
3. Crackers and dip: Water crackers and dip made from light cream cheese and sweet red pepper relish.
4. Soup: Soften up some onions, carrots and garlic in a soup pot with olive oil, salt and pepper. Cut up a smoked turkey sausage (sold by ring bologna) and throw it in. Cube a big sweet potato and a regular potato. Dump it in the pot with a big box of stock. Add water to cover the potatoes in needed. Bring to boil, season with whatever you like. I used paprika and cumin. When the potatoes are fork tender, add a few handfuls of kale. Let it wilt. Add a little bit of nutmeg and adjust salt/pepper.
5. Fruit salad: pineapple, cantaloupe, blueberries and blackberries. Debating on making a lemon quick bread to serve with it.
Now, if Green Bay can just get it done!!!!! Fingers crossed.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Prom Dress Promise
I am still in possession of the prom dress from my senior year in high school. That means I have been carrying it around for almost 25 years.
I adore it.
Back in the spring of 1986, it was a hot little number, too.
Those of you that remember 1986 in small town Wisconsin might remember the fashion of the day. Gunne Sax dresses were still in vogue. Pastel floral prints, lacey high necks, hoop skirts and ruffles. Lots of ruffles.
The dress from my junior year fit all those criteria. It was a Mother-approved, baby pink, dotted Swiss number that I wore with white vinyl sandals and a shawl. (I also had braces on my teeth and still got served a bottle of wine at the restaurant, go figure. Times were certainly different.)
Gack.
So my senior year, I went for broke. The dress is hot pink, tea length, off the shoulder matte-finish iridescent taffeta. Did you get that? HOT pink. TEA length. OFF the shoulder. I wore it with a pair of exact-match hot pink Nine West pumps that I loved with all my heart (and wore for years afterward). I thought I was the rockin'-est chick there ever was.
I tried it on last night.
It's a size 9. I was hopeful.
It didn't fit. I can get the zipper up past my waist, but my rib cage is apparently MUCH larger than it was oh so many years ago.
But I think there's a chance I can get in it.
If my remaining 16 pounds come off in the right places, you just might see me on Prom Night at a local restaurant, pretending Jim is my "older" boyfriend who can legally buy booze for me and ALL my friends!
And who knows ... maybe by my 10-year wedding anniversary in 2012 I can make two dresses out of my original size 20 gown for a vow renewal.
I adore it.
Back in the spring of 1986, it was a hot little number, too.
Those of you that remember 1986 in small town Wisconsin might remember the fashion of the day. Gunne Sax dresses were still in vogue. Pastel floral prints, lacey high necks, hoop skirts and ruffles. Lots of ruffles.
The dress from my junior year fit all those criteria. It was a Mother-approved, baby pink, dotted Swiss number that I wore with white vinyl sandals and a shawl. (I also had braces on my teeth and still got served a bottle of wine at the restaurant, go figure. Times were certainly different.)
Gack.
So my senior year, I went for broke. The dress is hot pink, tea length, off the shoulder matte-finish iridescent taffeta. Did you get that? HOT pink. TEA length. OFF the shoulder. I wore it with a pair of exact-match hot pink Nine West pumps that I loved with all my heart (and wore for years afterward). I thought I was the rockin'-est chick there ever was.
I tried it on last night.
It's a size 9. I was hopeful.
It didn't fit. I can get the zipper up past my waist, but my rib cage is apparently MUCH larger than it was oh so many years ago.
But I think there's a chance I can get in it.
If my remaining 16 pounds come off in the right places, you just might see me on Prom Night at a local restaurant, pretending Jim is my "older" boyfriend who can legally buy booze for me and ALL my friends!
And who knows ... maybe by my 10-year wedding anniversary in 2012 I can make two dresses out of my original size 20 gown for a vow renewal.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Extra Efforts
Walking is good. I like it. Some days I like it more than others. But the truth is sometimes it gets boring. And sometimes my routine needs a BAM to break the monotony.
Here are some other things I do to switch it up a little.
Leg lifts. Lay on floor on your back. Bend one leg up so your foot in on the floor. Lift the other heel a few inches off the ground and hold it for as long as you can. Or, swing it side to side or pick it up and down, never allowing your heel to touch the ground.
Sit-ups on the exercise ball. I can't do sit-ups on the floor. I'm not coordinated enough or something ... it just never feels right. But I can go all day on that big blue ball. I started doing 50 or 75 of them. But now I can do 500. Bear in mind that I only do 500 once in a while. I feel OK the morning following, but by late afternoon I'm so sore I can't stand it and hurts for a couple of days. Yes, it would be smarter to do 200 every day or something. But smart isn't always my strong suit. I used to do them in the morning before I showered when I was working out at night. Nice balance.
Tick Tocks. My friend Tina taught me this one and I was completely surprised at how hard it was. Stand behind a chair/couch. Or next to your chest of drawers ... something to hang on to that's about waist high. Stand on one leg and swing the other out to the side (like a pendulum), and then back to the middle. You can switch left to right to left to right ... tick tock, get it? Or I usually just do 25 or 35 on one leg and then switch to the other. Again, I have no idea what it works, but it hurts, so I assume that means it's good.
Front and back kicks. When I'm doing tick tocks, I add front kicks and back kicks to round out the butt/leg ensemble. Again, just stand there and kick your leg out front 25 or 35 times, never letting it touch the floor. Switch legs. Do it to the back, kicking your leg out back behind you. Sometimes I kick and hold that one, imagining that it will make my butt look high, tight and round. (It's not working so far.)
Hand weights. Yeah, sure, bicep curls. On the exercise ball for extra umph. I also put the weight by my ear and push up. And then I put the weight at my side and lift out to the side or straight out front. Or, with arms outstretched to your side, twist your wrists back and forth.
Squats. Squats make me nervous because my left knee still wiggles when it's not supposed to. But I have started doing a few when I'm stretching before I get on the treadmill. Or, this morning I heard the exercise dude on the Channel 3 morning show say to do them while you're brushing your teeth. I thought that was a great idea and started today.
Treadmill Karate. I imagine this looks incredibly stupid. But to increase my heart rate in short bursts, I'll add some arm movements to my normal walking. PLEASE NOTE: I can't watch TV while I do this because I'll trip and fall. Enter at your own risk. But at the start of a quarter mile, I'll do 50 reps of something. Like cross/jab punches out in front of me. Or uppercuts. Or punches up at the sky. Or I lift my arms straight out at my side and bend at the elbow to karate chop at my chest, palms down. (Kind of like a cheerleader move.) Feel free to make up your own.
Butt Lifts. Lay on your back on the floor. Bend knees and put your feet on the floor. Lift your hips toward the ceiling and repeat as many times as you can. Then, lift hips up and hold it, squeezing your butt cheeks, for as long as you can. I have no idea what, if anything, this does. But it entertains Jim. (Cracks him up, actually. Not what you were thinking!)
Here are some other things I do to switch it up a little.
Leg lifts. Lay on floor on your back. Bend one leg up so your foot in on the floor. Lift the other heel a few inches off the ground and hold it for as long as you can. Or, swing it side to side or pick it up and down, never allowing your heel to touch the ground.
Sit-ups on the exercise ball. I can't do sit-ups on the floor. I'm not coordinated enough or something ... it just never feels right. But I can go all day on that big blue ball. I started doing 50 or 75 of them. But now I can do 500. Bear in mind that I only do 500 once in a while. I feel OK the morning following, but by late afternoon I'm so sore I can't stand it and hurts for a couple of days. Yes, it would be smarter to do 200 every day or something. But smart isn't always my strong suit. I used to do them in the morning before I showered when I was working out at night. Nice balance.
Tick Tocks. My friend Tina taught me this one and I was completely surprised at how hard it was. Stand behind a chair/couch. Or next to your chest of drawers ... something to hang on to that's about waist high. Stand on one leg and swing the other out to the side (like a pendulum), and then back to the middle. You can switch left to right to left to right ... tick tock, get it? Or I usually just do 25 or 35 on one leg and then switch to the other. Again, I have no idea what it works, but it hurts, so I assume that means it's good.
Front and back kicks. When I'm doing tick tocks, I add front kicks and back kicks to round out the butt/leg ensemble. Again, just stand there and kick your leg out front 25 or 35 times, never letting it touch the floor. Switch legs. Do it to the back, kicking your leg out back behind you. Sometimes I kick and hold that one, imagining that it will make my butt look high, tight and round. (It's not working so far.)
Hand weights. Yeah, sure, bicep curls. On the exercise ball for extra umph. I also put the weight by my ear and push up. And then I put the weight at my side and lift out to the side or straight out front. Or, with arms outstretched to your side, twist your wrists back and forth.
Squats. Squats make me nervous because my left knee still wiggles when it's not supposed to. But I have started doing a few when I'm stretching before I get on the treadmill. Or, this morning I heard the exercise dude on the Channel 3 morning show say to do them while you're brushing your teeth. I thought that was a great idea and started today.
Treadmill Karate. I imagine this looks incredibly stupid. But to increase my heart rate in short bursts, I'll add some arm movements to my normal walking. PLEASE NOTE: I can't watch TV while I do this because I'll trip and fall. Enter at your own risk. But at the start of a quarter mile, I'll do 50 reps of something. Like cross/jab punches out in front of me. Or uppercuts. Or punches up at the sky. Or I lift my arms straight out at my side and bend at the elbow to karate chop at my chest, palms down. (Kind of like a cheerleader move.) Feel free to make up your own.
Butt Lifts. Lay on your back on the floor. Bend knees and put your feet on the floor. Lift your hips toward the ceiling and repeat as many times as you can. Then, lift hips up and hold it, squeezing your butt cheeks, for as long as you can. I have no idea what, if anything, this does. But it entertains Jim. (Cracks him up, actually. Not what you were thinking!)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #7
Today when I wore corduroy pants, my thighs didn't make that noise from rubbing together. My ankles did. Boot cut.
P.S. Feel free to gag a little over yesterday's post. It was a bit sappy. That's what the comment button is for, people! Bust me. Or tell me what you want to know about. You must be getting tired of listening to me just ramble!
P.S. Feel free to gag a little over yesterday's post. It was a bit sappy. That's what the comment button is for, people! Bust me. Or tell me what you want to know about. You must be getting tired of listening to me just ramble!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Lighter in More Ways Than One
Yeah, I weigh less than I did a year ago. But something else changed along the way.
My attitude/outlook/mindset also shed some "ell bees."
I'm always a little surprised when I notice it. I catch myself being a little more outgoing. I laugh a little more, a little louder. I just feel better in my skin ... a little more like me.
I had forgotten what "me" was like. I'd spent a long time stuffing me down inside; covering me up with french fries, ice cream and soft, white, doughy bagels.
Here's an example: Today I ended up in the front row of a photo for an upcoming catalog. Now, mind you, I have worked at my job for 20 years and 1) never been asked to be in a photo and 2) never in a million years would have agreed to be in one had I been asked. And here I was, today, in the front row. (Front row because I was the shortest, but you get the point I'm trying to make.)
I spent years, literally and figuratively, trying to duck behind someone, anyone, to hide part of me if I absolutely couldn't avoid a photo altogether. My godchild Paige has a pile of photos of me making funny faces because I figured that since I knew the snapshot would look awful anyway, it was better to look stupid on purpose.
Which is why today was so odd. While I'm not exactly comfortable being out front, I could do it. I didn't panic. I could even enjoy it a little. (It helps that I was surrounded by the most beautiful team on the planet!)
I walk a little taller. I smile a little more. And I like it.
My attitude/outlook/mindset also shed some "ell bees."
I'm always a little surprised when I notice it. I catch myself being a little more outgoing. I laugh a little more, a little louder. I just feel better in my skin ... a little more like me.
I had forgotten what "me" was like. I'd spent a long time stuffing me down inside; covering me up with french fries, ice cream and soft, white, doughy bagels.
Here's an example: Today I ended up in the front row of a photo for an upcoming catalog. Now, mind you, I have worked at my job for 20 years and 1) never been asked to be in a photo and 2) never in a million years would have agreed to be in one had I been asked. And here I was, today, in the front row. (Front row because I was the shortest, but you get the point I'm trying to make.)
I spent years, literally and figuratively, trying to duck behind someone, anyone, to hide part of me if I absolutely couldn't avoid a photo altogether. My godchild Paige has a pile of photos of me making funny faces because I figured that since I knew the snapshot would look awful anyway, it was better to look stupid on purpose.
Which is why today was so odd. While I'm not exactly comfortable being out front, I could do it. I didn't panic. I could even enjoy it a little. (It helps that I was surrounded by the most beautiful team on the planet!)
I walk a little taller. I smile a little more. And I like it.
Souper Supper
Snowy day and soup for supper is a natural. I'm sorry about the vague measurements ... I didn't really expect this to turn out, so I didn't pay much attention. It was spicy without being tongue-burning hot (which Jim likes) and substantial enough to feel like you're eating something solid (which I like).
Moroccan Stew
(Adapted from a Rachel Ray Moroccan Lamb Meatloaf recipe)
Meatballs:
1 lb. ground chicken
1/4 of a white onion, grated
1 Tbsp. chopped garlic
6-7 mint leaves, chopped fine
2 tsp. turmeric
2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 Tbsp flat leaf parsley, chopped or 2 tsp. dry
1/4 c egg beaters
good handful of Panko bread crumbs (increase if meat mixture is too loose)
Salt and pepper
Mix until well blended. Form one meatball and pan fry to see if the seasonings are right. Adjust if needed. Form the rest into 1" balls and bake on non-stick baking sheet. 350 degrees until done. (I didn't time it ... sorry!)
On stovetop, in a little olive oil, soften up the following:
1 red pepper, chopped
3/4 of medium white onion, chopped
1-2 stalks celery, chopped
1 c chopped carrots
4 oz. fresh mushrooms, sliced
1 summer squash, sliced into half moons
Cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, salt and pepper to taste
I made it this far and put all in the fridge yesterday afternoon. Tonight when I got home from work I finished it this way:
1 box of vegetable stock
1 can fire roasted diced tomatoes
3/4 c to 1 c orzo pasta (my store doesn't have whole wheat version ... so broken whole wheat spaghetti would work just the same)
Pour 1 box of vegetable stock in soup pot, bring to boil. Dump in 3/4-1 c orzo pasta and tomatoes. Heat veg mixture and meatballs in the microwave a little to take chill off. Dump into boiling stock/pasta. Heat everything through until pasta is fully cooked. Adjust seasoning.
Moroccan Stew
(Adapted from a Rachel Ray Moroccan Lamb Meatloaf recipe)
Meatballs:
1 lb. ground chicken
1/4 of a white onion, grated
1 Tbsp. chopped garlic
6-7 mint leaves, chopped fine
2 tsp. turmeric
2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 Tbsp flat leaf parsley, chopped or 2 tsp. dry
1/4 c egg beaters
good handful of Panko bread crumbs (increase if meat mixture is too loose)
Salt and pepper
Mix until well blended. Form one meatball and pan fry to see if the seasonings are right. Adjust if needed. Form the rest into 1" balls and bake on non-stick baking sheet. 350 degrees until done. (I didn't time it ... sorry!)
On stovetop, in a little olive oil, soften up the following:
1 red pepper, chopped
3/4 of medium white onion, chopped
1-2 stalks celery, chopped
1 c chopped carrots
4 oz. fresh mushrooms, sliced
1 summer squash, sliced into half moons
Cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, salt and pepper to taste
I made it this far and put all in the fridge yesterday afternoon. Tonight when I got home from work I finished it this way:
1 box of vegetable stock
1 can fire roasted diced tomatoes
3/4 c to 1 c orzo pasta (my store doesn't have whole wheat version ... so broken whole wheat spaghetti would work just the same)
Pour 1 box of vegetable stock in soup pot, bring to boil. Dump in 3/4-1 c orzo pasta and tomatoes. Heat veg mixture and meatballs in the microwave a little to take chill off. Dump into boiling stock/pasta. Heat everything through until pasta is fully cooked. Adjust seasoning.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Seriously Weird
Jim and I ran errands today after church. First we had breakfast. (BTW ... Perkins now has to "healthier choices" for breakfast with calorie counts and fat content listed on the menu.) Then we went to Gander Mountain for a turkey call and Home Depot to check out ballpark pricing on some countertop and tile. Next it was off to Shopko for razor blades and aspirin.
You can imagine how much I'm enjoying this trip so far, right?
Last, but not least, it was time for Woodman's. On a Sunday afternoon.
Ugh.
Jim, me and 70,488 other people clattering carts on that damn tile flooring. It's like a bona fide beehive and it drives me bananas.
But there we are. We've already discussed what we'll have for dinner this week in an approximate sort of way. We start in produce and because we don't normally shop at Woodman's, I'm doing a lot of back and forth as I try to find what I need. I want an eggplant and can't locate one. I make a great buy on some portabello mushroom caps.
And then the weird happens.
Jim looks at me and says, "I know we talked about dinner for the rest of the week. But what are we having tonight?"
"I don't know," I say.
He says, "I think I'd like a salad."
Huh? The Twilight Zone's got nothin' on us.
You can imagine how much I'm enjoying this trip so far, right?
Last, but not least, it was time for Woodman's. On a Sunday afternoon.
Ugh.
Jim, me and 70,488 other people clattering carts on that damn tile flooring. It's like a bona fide beehive and it drives me bananas.
But there we are. We've already discussed what we'll have for dinner this week in an approximate sort of way. We start in produce and because we don't normally shop at Woodman's, I'm doing a lot of back and forth as I try to find what I need. I want an eggplant and can't locate one. I make a great buy on some portabello mushroom caps.
And then the weird happens.
Jim looks at me and says, "I know we talked about dinner for the rest of the week. But what are we having tonight?"
"I don't know," I say.
He says, "I think I'd like a salad."
Huh? The Twilight Zone's got nothin' on us.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Things I Did Wrong
I've been doing some looking back over the past couple of weeks. I'm quickly approaching the one year mark of the new me ... March will be here before I know it. And there are days it seems like it can't possibly have been that long. Then again, some days it seems like life has always been THIS way.
It's strange.
But as I peek at the road behind me, I see some things I'd probably do differently. Here's a few:
1. I'd meet with a nutritionist. You can get a referral from your family physician ... who is usually more than happy to work on the "preventative care" angle with you. It would have been nice to know what eating was right for my particular situation ... my likes/dislikes, my exercise level, my budget, my culinary skills (or lack there of), etc.
2. I'd eat more. I think there were times, especially when I was running, that I wasn't taking in enough calories or the right kinds of calories to make my body work properly. By eating too little, your body can hold tight to the weight it has because it thinks you're starving. And that screws up your metabolism moving forward. Again ... the nutritionist would have been able to help with that, too.
3. I'd get a bike carrier for my car. There's a nice bike trail in my town and it's a whole lot safer than riding near my house. I just can't get there in a convenient way.
4. I'd schedule days off from working out and not obsess so much about doing it religiously.
5. I would not make Caramel Chex Mix. (See previous posts if this doesn't make sense.)
6. I'd have already bought the Hungry Girl 200 recipes book.
7. I should have talked to someone who knew more than me about shoes. I'm wearing a year-old pair of Shopko Nikes and my feet are a mess. Full of blisters and callouses ... not pretty. There's a store in Janesville and a few in Madison where you can have someone evaluate the way you walk/run and what your training needs are to match you up to the right shoes.
8. I'd stop being intimidated by the nutritionist, the shoe store for runners, the skinny people and all those I think are "better" at this than I am.
9. I'd drink more water. Or at least I think I was supposed to. I'm just not a big drinker in the first place, frequently not having anything during my dinner or after I get home from work ... which Jim finds weird. Again, the nutritionist might have had some advice about that. I think I could prevent some unnecessary snacking my drinking a glass of water first to get full.
10. I'd have started 10 years ago. Still mad at myself for wasting a part of my life being scared, uncomfortable and sad.
It's strange.
But as I peek at the road behind me, I see some things I'd probably do differently. Here's a few:
1. I'd meet with a nutritionist. You can get a referral from your family physician ... who is usually more than happy to work on the "preventative care" angle with you. It would have been nice to know what eating was right for my particular situation ... my likes/dislikes, my exercise level, my budget, my culinary skills (or lack there of), etc.
2. I'd eat more. I think there were times, especially when I was running, that I wasn't taking in enough calories or the right kinds of calories to make my body work properly. By eating too little, your body can hold tight to the weight it has because it thinks you're starving. And that screws up your metabolism moving forward. Again ... the nutritionist would have been able to help with that, too.
3. I'd get a bike carrier for my car. There's a nice bike trail in my town and it's a whole lot safer than riding near my house. I just can't get there in a convenient way.
4. I'd schedule days off from working out and not obsess so much about doing it religiously.
5. I would not make Caramel Chex Mix. (See previous posts if this doesn't make sense.)
6. I'd have already bought the Hungry Girl 200 recipes book.
7. I should have talked to someone who knew more than me about shoes. I'm wearing a year-old pair of Shopko Nikes and my feet are a mess. Full of blisters and callouses ... not pretty. There's a store in Janesville and a few in Madison where you can have someone evaluate the way you walk/run and what your training needs are to match you up to the right shoes.
8. I'd stop being intimidated by the nutritionist, the shoe store for runners, the skinny people and all those I think are "better" at this than I am.
9. I'd drink more water. Or at least I think I was supposed to. I'm just not a big drinker in the first place, frequently not having anything during my dinner or after I get home from work ... which Jim finds weird. Again, the nutritionist might have had some advice about that. I think I could prevent some unnecessary snacking my drinking a glass of water first to get full.
10. I'd have started 10 years ago. Still mad at myself for wasting a part of my life being scared, uncomfortable and sad.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #6
Your clothes are smaller ... which means they are made with less fabric ... which means they take up less space in a suitcase ... which means you can PACK MORE IN THE SAME SPACE!
Update: The scale was kind to me this morning. I didn't lose anything, but I didn't gain anything during my two days of work travel. Yay!
Update: The scale was kind to me this morning. I didn't lose anything, but I didn't gain anything during my two days of work travel. Yay!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Eating Without a Net
I'm home. Survived the second day of the hotel fitness center. (Quick update: Skinny Minnies #2, #3 and #4 returned, but Dapper Dans did not. I beat them all by waking up 15 minutes earlier.)
Thrilled to be home eating my own food. After two breakfasts, two lunches and two dinners out, I'm a little nervous to hop on the scale tomorrow morning.
While I tried to make mostly good choices, I wasn't 100% great. I know I ate more quantity and I know I ate less quality. But the truth will be revealed in just a few short hours.
It's funny how I didn't own a scale for 20-plus years and now going two days without weighing in makes me feel a little out of control.
It's like eating without a net.
The scale keeps you honest. Clothes sizes can fool you. Your husband might stretch the truth a little. Your own brain can trick you into thinking a couple of extra pounds don't matter that much.
A safety net prevents you from falling. And as much as I hate to admit it, I need mine.
P.S. Way to go, Little Miss Calamity! Nine pounds in two weeks. Nicely done!!!
Thrilled to be home eating my own food. After two breakfasts, two lunches and two dinners out, I'm a little nervous to hop on the scale tomorrow morning.
While I tried to make mostly good choices, I wasn't 100% great. I know I ate more quantity and I know I ate less quality. But the truth will be revealed in just a few short hours.
It's funny how I didn't own a scale for 20-plus years and now going two days without weighing in makes me feel a little out of control.
It's like eating without a net.
The scale keeps you honest. Clothes sizes can fool you. Your husband might stretch the truth a little. Your own brain can trick you into thinking a couple of extra pounds don't matter that much.
A safety net prevents you from falling. And as much as I hate to admit it, I need mine.
P.S. Way to go, Little Miss Calamity! Nine pounds in two weeks. Nicely done!!!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Hotel Hot Spot!
Who knew?
Guess where the happening-est place in a hotel is at 5:30 a.m.?
Nope, not the kitchen. Not the janitorial or maid service areas. Not the front desk. Certainly not the bar.
It's the damn fitness center.
I expected (well, hoped really, considering my adorable hairdo) to be the only person dumb/delusional/crazy enough to wake up before dawn and exercise. Boy, was I wrong.
I was the third person in. This was good news because that meant there was room for me on one of the three treadmills. The other two were occupied by Skinny Minnie #1 and Dapper Dan #1, running in a seemingly choreographed stride-for-stride unison.
Their perfect synchronization me a little. They were clearly professional runners.
I just wanted to walk.
All of a sudden I felt like a poser. Or a dork. I felt like they could see the old me and was sure they would be passing judgement on how big my butt is or how floppy my arms are or how I just wasn't cool enough to be in their club.
But then I remembered that I don't need to be in their club. I am in my own. I stuck my chin in the air and pretended I did this sort of thing all the time.
It took me a minute to figure out the buttons on the treadmill. Took me another few to determine that my 4.4 pace at home felt more like a 4.7 on this machine. Just got to thinking maybe I could pull this off when ...
... they started pouring in. Four more Skinny Minnies. One more Dapper Dan. And me.
Just walking.
I panicked a little. I don't know what the appropriate etiquette is for sharing equipment. (My dog never wants to actually get on my treadmill at home and she's the only one that ever witnesses my workout.) I wasn't sure if it was OK to stay on my machine until I was done. I knew I had 45 more minutes to go and the nice, Midwestern girl in me didn't want to break the rules.
Luckily, some started lifting weights, two climbed on ellipticals. And then SM#1 and DD#1 wrapped up their workouts, freeing up the machines for others.
I just kept walking.
But I'm going to get up 15 minutes earlier tomorrow just to be sure I don't have to wait in line.
P.S. The treadmills have little TV screens attached. I found a local news channel and started watching the news. No sound, as to not interfere with anyone else. But guess what the first commercial I saw was? Yup ... one for a fantastic weekend getaway in ... wait for it ... Wisconsin Dells at the Wilderness Resort! Ironic, don'tcha think?
Guess where the happening-est place in a hotel is at 5:30 a.m.?
Nope, not the kitchen. Not the janitorial or maid service areas. Not the front desk. Certainly not the bar.
It's the damn fitness center.
I expected (well, hoped really, considering my adorable hairdo) to be the only person dumb/delusional/crazy enough to wake up before dawn and exercise. Boy, was I wrong.
I was the third person in. This was good news because that meant there was room for me on one of the three treadmills. The other two were occupied by Skinny Minnie #1 and Dapper Dan #1, running in a seemingly choreographed stride-for-stride unison.
Their perfect synchronization me a little. They were clearly professional runners.
I just wanted to walk.
All of a sudden I felt like a poser. Or a dork. I felt like they could see the old me and was sure they would be passing judgement on how big my butt is or how floppy my arms are or how I just wasn't cool enough to be in their club.
But then I remembered that I don't need to be in their club. I am in my own. I stuck my chin in the air and pretended I did this sort of thing all the time.
It took me a minute to figure out the buttons on the treadmill. Took me another few to determine that my 4.4 pace at home felt more like a 4.7 on this machine. Just got to thinking maybe I could pull this off when ...
... they started pouring in. Four more Skinny Minnies. One more Dapper Dan. And me.
Just walking.
I panicked a little. I don't know what the appropriate etiquette is for sharing equipment. (My dog never wants to actually get on my treadmill at home and she's the only one that ever witnesses my workout.) I wasn't sure if it was OK to stay on my machine until I was done. I knew I had 45 more minutes to go and the nice, Midwestern girl in me didn't want to break the rules.
Luckily, some started lifting weights, two climbed on ellipticals. And then SM#1 and DD#1 wrapped up their workouts, freeing up the machines for others.
I just kept walking.
But I'm going to get up 15 minutes earlier tomorrow just to be sure I don't have to wait in line.
P.S. The treadmills have little TV screens attached. I found a local news channel and started watching the news. No sound, as to not interfere with anyone else. But guess what the first commercial I saw was? Yup ... one for a fantastic weekend getaway in ... wait for it ... Wisconsin Dells at the Wilderness Resort! Ironic, don'tcha think?
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Navigating Business Travel Night One
I'm checked in and dinner is done. I've scoped out the fitness center (three treadmills, two elipticals and some weights). Got in late and, consequently ate late, but I think I made a decent choice when faced with an Irish pub-ish menu. Will make some adjustments when I try to make it at home. Here's what I think it was:
Grilled Veg Sandwich
Ciabatta roll(Which I didn't really eat ... and which I'd replace with a whole wheat tortilla or whole wheat pita pocket)
Roasted red peppers (I think you could use them straight from the jar ... just warm them up.)
Portabella mushroom cap
Zucchini
Asparagus
Mozzarella cheese
In essence, there was enough veg to cover the bun. One mushroom cap, two big slices of zucchini, two or three stalks of asparagus, and a "bread sized" piece of pepper. If I had to guess, the veg was sauteed or roasted in olive oil and balsamic. There was also a spicy mayo on the bread ... something green. Maybe mayo mixed with pesto? Or mixed with some roasted garlic, basil, oregano, salt and pepper ... and I'd use the low-fat mayo made with olive oil.
5:30 a.m. is going to come early. Wish me luck. If I have to get carted out of here on a luggage rack, I am going to be pissed.
Grilled Veg Sandwich
Ciabatta roll(Which I didn't really eat ... and which I'd replace with a whole wheat tortilla or whole wheat pita pocket)
Roasted red peppers (I think you could use them straight from the jar ... just warm them up.)
Portabella mushroom cap
Zucchini
Asparagus
Mozzarella cheese
In essence, there was enough veg to cover the bun. One mushroom cap, two big slices of zucchini, two or three stalks of asparagus, and a "bread sized" piece of pepper. If I had to guess, the veg was sauteed or roasted in olive oil and balsamic. There was also a spicy mayo on the bread ... something green. Maybe mayo mixed with pesto? Or mixed with some roasted garlic, basil, oregano, salt and pepper ... and I'd use the low-fat mayo made with olive oil.
5:30 a.m. is going to come early. Wish me luck. If I have to get carted out of here on a luggage rack, I am going to be pissed.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Unexpected Downside of Being Thinner #6
My mom told me I now dress like a slut.
Well, she didn't use the word slut. But she suggested that it was too cold for me NOT to wear turtlenecks. I explained that Stacey and Clinton (TLC's What Not To Wear) say that those with short necks like me should always wear a V-neck or scoop neck. Apparently, to my mother, wearing a V-neck or a scoop neck makes you a slut.
If you've got one on, don't let her see it. Or, cover up before you visit.
Well, she didn't use the word slut. But she suggested that it was too cold for me NOT to wear turtlenecks. I explained that Stacey and Clinton (TLC's What Not To Wear) say that those with short necks like me should always wear a V-neck or scoop neck. Apparently, to my mother, wearing a V-neck or a scoop neck makes you a slut.
If you've got one on, don't let her see it. Or, cover up before you visit.
Wisdom Overheard
As perhaps you can imagine by the many posts on this blog, I like talking about my new self. I know that sounds horribly self-absorbed, but I don't like it for the reasons you might think. I like talking about Lisa 2.0 because it forces me to face reality and holds me accountable to my new ways. I can't very well be pontificating about eating healthier and exercising more as I stuff Ding Dongs in my face behind closed doors, you know what I mean?
But perhaps we've all had enough of me for a while. So here's a list of tips, tricks and insight from others I've been talking to and listening to.
1. Exercise doesn't have to involve a gym membership. Walking around the parking lot or through your workplace during lunch hour burns calories just like the treadmill does. Taking the stairs a few times a week counts. In the summer, adding an extra hill or doing the courthouse steps all work.
2. Eating better starts with thinking better.
3. Heard a guy on the radio today (dustinmaher.com or something like that) and he said working out one hour per day, six days per week should be your maximum.
4. Same guy said to strengthen your core, do planks. Hold for as long as you can, increasing duration and repetitions as you get stronger. To do a plank, lie on your belly on the floor. Push up on your toes and put your weight on your forearms. Sort of like a push up, but not pushing up.
5. You get blisters on your feet from bad socks more often than bad shoes. Keep socks thin and poly/cotton blend.
6. Sleep is as important as exercise.
7. Interval training (speeding up and slowing down) is the only way to fly.
8. Do cardio and weights/core strengthening ... never just one or the other.
9. Wii Just Dance 2 has couples competition!
10. Is corn considered a carb? Are peas? How many can you have in a day? The truth is no one ever got fat from eating too much corn or too many peas.
11. The second bite of something sinful doesn't taste any different from or better than the first.
12. Drinking calories (full-sugar soda or juice or alcohol) isn't how I want to spend my daily allotment. Though every once in a while the alcohol is a nice treat!
13. If you just leave 10% of everything you're served on your plate, you save the equivalent of a zillion calories a year, which means a whole bunch of pounds.
14. Little changes add up. Eat one cookie instead of two. Park farther away from the store. March around your house while you clean. You get the idea.
15. You gotta move to lose.
And, last but not least ...
16. It's up to YOU.
But perhaps we've all had enough of me for a while. So here's a list of tips, tricks and insight from others I've been talking to and listening to.
1. Exercise doesn't have to involve a gym membership. Walking around the parking lot or through your workplace during lunch hour burns calories just like the treadmill does. Taking the stairs a few times a week counts. In the summer, adding an extra hill or doing the courthouse steps all work.
2. Eating better starts with thinking better.
3. Heard a guy on the radio today (dustinmaher.com or something like that) and he said working out one hour per day, six days per week should be your maximum.
4. Same guy said to strengthen your core, do planks. Hold for as long as you can, increasing duration and repetitions as you get stronger. To do a plank, lie on your belly on the floor. Push up on your toes and put your weight on your forearms. Sort of like a push up, but not pushing up.
5. You get blisters on your feet from bad socks more often than bad shoes. Keep socks thin and poly/cotton blend.
6. Sleep is as important as exercise.
7. Interval training (speeding up and slowing down) is the only way to fly.
8. Do cardio and weights/core strengthening ... never just one or the other.
9. Wii Just Dance 2 has couples competition!
10. Is corn considered a carb? Are peas? How many can you have in a day? The truth is no one ever got fat from eating too much corn or too many peas.
11. The second bite of something sinful doesn't taste any different from or better than the first.
12. Drinking calories (full-sugar soda or juice or alcohol) isn't how I want to spend my daily allotment. Though every once in a while the alcohol is a nice treat!
13. If you just leave 10% of everything you're served on your plate, you save the equivalent of a zillion calories a year, which means a whole bunch of pounds.
14. Little changes add up. Eat one cookie instead of two. Park farther away from the store. March around your house while you clean. You get the idea.
15. You gotta move to lose.
And, last but not least ...
16. It's up to YOU.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Planning a Rendezvous
I have to go out of town for work this week. And I'm trying to figure out how I'll get my exercise in while I'm at a hotel.
Pathetic, isn't it? I should be planning how I'll find some great restaurant. Or how I'll make time for a stop at the outlet mall. But nooooo ... I'm worried about how/when/if I can accomplish some sort of workout.
Remember ... my last attempt at working out in a hotel didn't turn out so well.
The good news is I only have to go to Chicago. My meetings are from 8-5 on Wednesday and 8-noon on Thursday. In theory, I could sleep at home, make the two hour drive in and forgo the hotel altogether.
But to maintain my a.m. walk, that would mean getting up at 4 a.m., treadmilling until 5-ish. Shower, get ready and leave by 6 a.m. to be there in time. Provided there's no traffic. Two days in a row of that might really stink.
So, a hotel is probably a necessity. Here are my options:
Maybe I should just don a pair of sunglasses like the Hollywood starlets in hopes that no one will recognize me as I sweat.
Pathetic, isn't it? I should be planning how I'll find some great restaurant. Or how I'll make time for a stop at the outlet mall. But nooooo ... I'm worried about how/when/if I can accomplish some sort of workout.
Remember ... my last attempt at working out in a hotel didn't turn out so well.
The good news is I only have to go to Chicago. My meetings are from 8-5 on Wednesday and 8-noon on Thursday. In theory, I could sleep at home, make the two hour drive in and forgo the hotel altogether.
But to maintain my a.m. walk, that would mean getting up at 4 a.m., treadmilling until 5-ish. Shower, get ready and leave by 6 a.m. to be there in time. Provided there's no traffic. Two days in a row of that might really stink.
So, a hotel is probably a necessity. Here are my options:
- I could skip Wednesday a.m. workout at home, stay overnight Wednesday night and then use the hotel treadmill on Thursday a.m.
- Or, I could go down Tuesday night, and then use the hotel facilities both Wednesday and Thursday mornings.
The thing I don't like about option two is that, because there will be coworkers in town for the same meeting and staying at the hotel, I run the risk of bumping into them on my way to or from the fitness center. Heaven forbid ANYONE see me in my workout clothes in the elevator or in the fitness center itself.
Pretty sure I'm not ready to show them my not-so-adorable-a.m.-self-with-Medusa-hair.Maybe I should just don a pair of sunglasses like the Hollywood starlets in hopes that no one will recognize me as I sweat.
Ode to Cherry Coke Zero
Cherry Coke Zero,
How I love thee.
Let me count the ways.
You are the bright spot
Of my morning,
Each and every day.
I need you like
Flowers need sunshine,
To keep the blues away.
How I love thee.
Let me count the ways.
You are the bright spot
Of my morning,
Each and every day.
I need you like
Flowers need sunshine,
To keep the blues away.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Hungry, Hungry Hippos
Remember that commercial? Those of you who weren't a kid in the early-to-mid 70's might not. But I can still hear the jingle in my head. It played a LOT during Saturday morning cartoons.
The actual game included four hippo heads, each controlled by a lever-dealy and the goal was to push and wiggle the lever to get your hippo head to capture more of the marble-like things from the middle than your competitors could. It was noisy and never really worked that well, if my memory serves me right.
But every time my stomach growls, I think of it.
I try NOT to be hungry. Because when I am, I make bad choices as I try to fill up my gut. But the truth is that when you start eating less than you're accustomed to, you will be hungry.
In the first 6-8 weeks of the pyramid, I remember being hungry a lot. In hindsight, I know that I just hadn't figured out when to eat what to make sure I didn't get that way. I also know that after YEARS of never feeling hungry because I was eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, I forgot what it was like to listen to my body for a clue about when to eat.
I went to bed a few nights whining to Jim, "I'm hungry!"
He always said, "No you're not."
But over time, I learned to eat differently. I knew I needed protein in the morning to get me to lunch. And I needed protein at dinner to get me through the night. I learned that a piece of cheese, though higher in calories and fat than a handful of baked chips, would keep me feeling fuller longer. I also learned the difference between thinking I was hungry (because I wasn't constantly nibbling on empty carbs) and really feeling hungry.
So I was surprised this past Wednesday night when I woke up at 1 a.m. with my stomach growling. All I heard in my head during the enthusiastic gurgling was that Bob Seger song, "Woke last night to the sound of thunder. How far off I sat and wondered." (Hmm, gurgling and thunder sounds like another problem, but I swear I'm referring to hungry.)
Thankfully, I was too lazy to get out of bed to do anything about it. I just fell back asleep.
The hungry, hungry hippos would be disappointed.
The actual game included four hippo heads, each controlled by a lever-dealy and the goal was to push and wiggle the lever to get your hippo head to capture more of the marble-like things from the middle than your competitors could. It was noisy and never really worked that well, if my memory serves me right.
But every time my stomach growls, I think of it.
I try NOT to be hungry. Because when I am, I make bad choices as I try to fill up my gut. But the truth is that when you start eating less than you're accustomed to, you will be hungry.
In the first 6-8 weeks of the pyramid, I remember being hungry a lot. In hindsight, I know that I just hadn't figured out when to eat what to make sure I didn't get that way. I also know that after YEARS of never feeling hungry because I was eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, I forgot what it was like to listen to my body for a clue about when to eat.
I went to bed a few nights whining to Jim, "I'm hungry!"
He always said, "No you're not."
But over time, I learned to eat differently. I knew I needed protein in the morning to get me to lunch. And I needed protein at dinner to get me through the night. I learned that a piece of cheese, though higher in calories and fat than a handful of baked chips, would keep me feeling fuller longer. I also learned the difference between thinking I was hungry (because I wasn't constantly nibbling on empty carbs) and really feeling hungry.
So I was surprised this past Wednesday night when I woke up at 1 a.m. with my stomach growling. All I heard in my head during the enthusiastic gurgling was that Bob Seger song, "Woke last night to the sound of thunder. How far off I sat and wondered." (Hmm, gurgling and thunder sounds like another problem, but I swear I'm referring to hungry.)
Thankfully, I was too lazy to get out of bed to do anything about it. I just fell back asleep.
The hungry, hungry hippos would be disappointed.
Friday, January 7, 2011
You Really Are What You Eat
Exercise is great. And necessary.
But I don't think it's the key to losing weight.
It helps; don't get me wrong. It makes the weight come off faster. It keeps you toned as the pounds drop.
But eating right is more important, in my opinion. Much more important. And if I end up with a day where I have to choose one or the other, I know eating right will benefit me more.
In previous posts, I have mentioned a time years ago when I lost weight. I did it by exercising. I exercised like a mad woman. I was single and had all the time in the world ... so I hit the fitness center at my workplace for two hours a day. Every day. My typical routine was to ride a stationary bike for 60 minutes, stair climb for 30 minutes and walk/run for 30 more. I occasionally lifted a few weights, too.
But I don't think it's the key to losing weight.
It helps; don't get me wrong. It makes the weight come off faster. It keeps you toned as the pounds drop.
But eating right is more important, in my opinion. Much more important. And if I end up with a day where I have to choose one or the other, I know eating right will benefit me more.
In previous posts, I have mentioned a time years ago when I lost weight. I did it by exercising. I exercised like a mad woman. I was single and had all the time in the world ... so I hit the fitness center at my workplace for two hours a day. Every day. My typical routine was to ride a stationary bike for 60 minutes, stair climb for 30 minutes and walk/run for 30 more. I occasionally lifted a few weights, too.
I hit it hard for months. I dropped a lot of weight. I felt great and thought I had it all figured out. But I never really learned how to eat properly.
And I burned myself the slap out. Let's face it. How long can you realistically work out for two hours a day? I mean, eventually you have to live your life. So seven days a week becomes six. Which becomes five, then four, then three. And before you know it, you're not working out at all.
Guess what happens then if you've never learned how to eat right?
It all comes back.
That's why I like the Mediterranean Pyramid. It tells you what a serving size is. It tells you how many you should eat in a day. And there's enough "available" for each day to keep you full.
Remember, this is YOUR program. You're in control.
Sometimes NOT using a muscle (the one that moves your hand to your mouth) is one of the hardest workouts of all.
Unexpected Downside of Being Thinner #5
(This entry comes at the request of my sister who thinks, perhaps, I had too much fun at last week's football party.)
When you're lighter, you can't drink as much alcohol as you used to. It sneaks up on you quickly.
When you're lighter, you can't drink as much alcohol as you used to. It sneaks up on you quickly.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
GGOOOOOOOOOOOAAALLLLLLLLLL!
I hope at some point in your life you have watched a soccer match on Univision or Telemundo in Spanish so you know what this word is supposed to sound like.
I hit a goal this morning. I started this whole escapade with two goals in mind. One was to get in a size 12 pants and one was to hit a certain Number on the scale. The size 12s arrived faster and easier than I anticipated and, while not anti-climactic, they were not nearly as much fun as the 10s or the single 8 I've managed to find since.
The Number, however, was harder to come by.
Honestly, I didn't know what this Number would look like. It was a Number I remembered from 10+ years ago when I lost a bunch o' weight. It was a Number I stayed at for approximately 17 minutes. (I hit it when I was in Mexico visiting Karla and wore a kick ass black dress to Senior Frogs in Acapulco. One time. Held onto the dress for years, but never fit into it again. Gave it to Goodwill when we moved two years ago.) It was a Number I thought went with a size 12.
This morning when I stepped on the scale, there it was. My Number. It still had a decimal point behind it, but I'm counting it just the same. It's four pounds under the Number I've been hovering around since Thanksgiving.
Since it might not be there tomorrow ... though I ate pretty well today ... I'm celebrating now.
And I've readjusted by goal to be 15-20 lbs. under this one, knowing if I get there, I'll likely put 10 back on as I figure out how to maintain. That is where I should be. That will be right for my frame.
However, now I wish I would have picked a lower weight when I renewed my driver's license in early October. The Number there is now too high, even though I stretched the truth a little at the time. And now that your DL is good for 10 years, I have to live with it for a long time. How funny is that considering it's been a lie since I was approximately 19?
P.S. Congrats, too, to my HR friend who is down 16 since October. Over the holidays? You rock.
I hit a goal this morning. I started this whole escapade with two goals in mind. One was to get in a size 12 pants and one was to hit a certain Number on the scale. The size 12s arrived faster and easier than I anticipated and, while not anti-climactic, they were not nearly as much fun as the 10s or the single 8 I've managed to find since.
The Number, however, was harder to come by.
Honestly, I didn't know what this Number would look like. It was a Number I remembered from 10+ years ago when I lost a bunch o' weight. It was a Number I stayed at for approximately 17 minutes. (I hit it when I was in Mexico visiting Karla and wore a kick ass black dress to Senior Frogs in Acapulco. One time. Held onto the dress for years, but never fit into it again. Gave it to Goodwill when we moved two years ago.) It was a Number I thought went with a size 12.
This morning when I stepped on the scale, there it was. My Number. It still had a decimal point behind it, but I'm counting it just the same. It's four pounds under the Number I've been hovering around since Thanksgiving.
Since it might not be there tomorrow ... though I ate pretty well today ... I'm celebrating now.
And I've readjusted by goal to be 15-20 lbs. under this one, knowing if I get there, I'll likely put 10 back on as I figure out how to maintain. That is where I should be. That will be right for my frame.
However, now I wish I would have picked a lower weight when I renewed my driver's license in early October. The Number there is now too high, even though I stretched the truth a little at the time. And now that your DL is good for 10 years, I have to live with it for a long time. How funny is that considering it's been a lie since I was approximately 19?
P.S. Congrats, too, to my HR friend who is down 16 since October. Over the holidays? You rock.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Hardest Part of the Workout
The VERY HARDEST part of my workout every day might surprise you.
It's not the first interval at an increased speed after my warm-up where I struggle to catch my breath and find my stride. It's not the LONG stretch in the middle where I zone out and the finish line seems soooooo far away. It's not the last half mile when I'm sweaty and tired and running late for work.
The very hardest part of my workout is the 80 or so steps that take me from my bed, to the bathroom, to the closet where my workout clothes live and finally to the basement treadmill.
Those 80 or so steps are simply torturous. Figuratively, it's worse than having cement blocks chained to my feet with spiky iron links. I feel like I'm trudging through quicksand as my will to sleep for just 5 more minutes or to skip just one day tries to suck me down under the covers where it's warm and snuggly and quiet.
The muscles in my legs are simply no match for the muscle in my head.
WARNING: Your damn brain will sabotage you.
Don't let it! Know it's out to get you. Know it's trying to fool you. Know it's screwing with you!
And also know that if you can get past that first step, it gets better.
I know that if I can get to my basement, I feel better almost instantly. As I stretch, the glow starts inside. As I step on the treadmill, it gets stronger. There are times I get to the end of the workout and want to keep going. In the shower, drying my hair, getting dressed, eating breakfast ... I know that if nothing else goes right today, I did one really GREAT thing. And that feeling is so addicting.
I hope you find it, too.
It's not the first interval at an increased speed after my warm-up where I struggle to catch my breath and find my stride. It's not the LONG stretch in the middle where I zone out and the finish line seems soooooo far away. It's not the last half mile when I'm sweaty and tired and running late for work.
The very hardest part of my workout is the 80 or so steps that take me from my bed, to the bathroom, to the closet where my workout clothes live and finally to the basement treadmill.
Those 80 or so steps are simply torturous. Figuratively, it's worse than having cement blocks chained to my feet with spiky iron links. I feel like I'm trudging through quicksand as my will to sleep for just 5 more minutes or to skip just one day tries to suck me down under the covers where it's warm and snuggly and quiet.
The muscles in my legs are simply no match for the muscle in my head.
WARNING: Your damn brain will sabotage you.
Don't let it! Know it's out to get you. Know it's trying to fool you. Know it's screwing with you!
And also know that if you can get past that first step, it gets better.
I know that if I can get to my basement, I feel better almost instantly. As I stretch, the glow starts inside. As I step on the treadmill, it gets stronger. There are times I get to the end of the workout and want to keep going. In the shower, drying my hair, getting dressed, eating breakfast ... I know that if nothing else goes right today, I did one really GREAT thing. And that feeling is so addicting.
I hope you find it, too.
They Say Clothes Make the Man ...
I say clothes make the workout.
I don't work out in schlumpy sweat pants. Mostly because they're too hot and heavy and restricting. But also because they make me feel schlumpy.
I sweat when I work out. I hate being hot. In the early days, I'd wear capri-length, yoga-style pants with a sports bra. I didn't look remotely cute. But the ensemble allowed me to feel the most air from the fan I had pointed directly on me as the ... "sweat poured out my body like the music that I play-ay-ay-ed," to paraphrase Bob Seger. (Who will figure into a post in the near future. Stay tuned.)
But my point is that acting and looking the part of "Exercise Girl" made me feel like maybe I could be Exercise Girl.
And wearing clothes that allowed me to see my body helped me LOOK at my body and understand what was happening to it.
As I've said before, for years I just didn't look at myself at all. Cursory glances in the mirror as I got ready in the morning was about as far as it went. But when you're wrapped up in tight lycra-infused material, you simply have to notice. To pay attention.
I've had to retire two pieces of exercise gear because they're now too big. I have a top that doesn't "support" enough to be useful anymore and a bottom that will literally slide off over my hips. That would be a great thing on a catwalk, wouldn't it?
I don't work out in schlumpy sweat pants. Mostly because they're too hot and heavy and restricting. But also because they make me feel schlumpy.
I sweat when I work out. I hate being hot. In the early days, I'd wear capri-length, yoga-style pants with a sports bra. I didn't look remotely cute. But the ensemble allowed me to feel the most air from the fan I had pointed directly on me as the ... "sweat poured out my body like the music that I play-ay-ay-ed," to paraphrase Bob Seger. (Who will figure into a post in the near future. Stay tuned.)
But my point is that acting and looking the part of "Exercise Girl" made me feel like maybe I could be Exercise Girl.
And wearing clothes that allowed me to see my body helped me LOOK at my body and understand what was happening to it.
As I've said before, for years I just didn't look at myself at all. Cursory glances in the mirror as I got ready in the morning was about as far as it went. But when you're wrapped up in tight lycra-infused material, you simply have to notice. To pay attention.
I've had to retire two pieces of exercise gear because they're now too big. I have a top that doesn't "support" enough to be useful anymore and a bottom that will literally slide off over my hips. That would be a great thing on a catwalk, wouldn't it?
Unexpected Downside of Being Thinner #4
As some of my new clothes become too big, I have to go buy more clothes. Wardrobe budget is stretched pretty thin. (But rest assured that I'm becoming quite a bargain hunter ...)
Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #5
Some of my "skinny clothes" are now too big and have to be retired.
Back in the Saddle
It's back to reality for me after the long holiday.
No more excuses for eating the stuff I shouldn't.
And it's hard. Hard mostly because I realized I developed a "new habit" while I thought I was doing a good job of battling my way through the holidays. The new habit was justifying eating off program and accepting that maintaining my current weight was good enough.
It's not good enough. My goal shouldn't have been to maintain or not gain. My goal should have been to lose. I shot too low, as they say.
I still have 15-20 lbs. to lose. But here I am ... at essentially the same weight I was 6 weeks ago.
Aaaarrggggghhhh!
Here we go. It's time to buckle up and hunker down. Are you with me?
No more excuses for eating the stuff I shouldn't.
And it's hard. Hard mostly because I realized I developed a "new habit" while I thought I was doing a good job of battling my way through the holidays. The new habit was justifying eating off program and accepting that maintaining my current weight was good enough.
It's not good enough. My goal shouldn't have been to maintain or not gain. My goal should have been to lose. I shot too low, as they say.
I still have 15-20 lbs. to lose. But here I am ... at essentially the same weight I was 6 weeks ago.
Aaaarrggggghhhh!
Here we go. It's time to buckle up and hunker down. Are you with me?
New Year, New Husband?
I'm not sure what's gotten into Jim, but he's worked out in some form for the past three days in a row. He's lifted. He's Total Gym'd. He's even run on the treadmill.
Who is this dude?
I guess the New Year's Resolution bug bit him as it bites so many others at this time of year.
I couldn't be more excited! But I'm trying so hard to not smother him with my enthusiasm.
I'm also trying not to give him too much advice. Or too many directions. Or too many suggestions. Ultimately, he has to do this himself and make his own choices. My job is to support and encourage.
But it's hard for me to keep quiet. So I'm talking about it with you all instead.
Who is this dude?
I guess the New Year's Resolution bug bit him as it bites so many others at this time of year.
I couldn't be more excited! But I'm trying so hard to not smother him with my enthusiasm.
I'm also trying not to give him too much advice. Or too many directions. Or too many suggestions. Ultimately, he has to do this himself and make his own choices. My job is to support and encourage.
But it's hard for me to keep quiet. So I'm talking about it with you all instead.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Party Swap-Outs
As previously mentioned, we had a Rose Bowl party yesterday. (And I had a blast, BTW.) Unbeknownst to my guests, I made a few switches to normal party fare in an effort to make it not as terrible as it could be.
No one even noticed.
Makes me feel a little sneaky. But makes my jeans feel better.
Here are the easy swap-outs I made. Nothing too terribly clever. But every little bit helps.
Taco meat: Use half lean ground beef and half ground turkey.
Crab dip: Use light or fat free sour cream and cream cheese.
Potato chips: Didn't serve them. Instead had a bowl of big, crunchy pretzels with honey mustard and stone-ground mustard for dipping.
Red velvet cupcakes: Made with Egg Beaters instead of whole eggs and applesauce instead of veg oil.
Shredded cheese and sour cream for taco bar: Used reduced fat versions of both.
Drinks: Offered diet sodas in all flavors for mixers and had a low-carb beer available.
Veg tray/dip: Used light sour cream.
Candy: Offered fat-free licorice instead of M&Ms.
Taco Bar: Offered whole wheat and corn tortillas in addition to white flour versions.
Tortilla chips: Baked Tostitos Scoops, baby.
What did this mean for me? Meant there was room for a delicious, soft, chewy chocolate chip cookie bar once everyone left and we were cleaning up the kitchen. Yum.
P.S. I have enough beer left over to have ANOTHER party sometime soon. Think of a reason to celebrate and come on over!
No one even noticed.
Makes me feel a little sneaky. But makes my jeans feel better.
Here are the easy swap-outs I made. Nothing too terribly clever. But every little bit helps.
Taco meat: Use half lean ground beef and half ground turkey.
Crab dip: Use light or fat free sour cream and cream cheese.
Potato chips: Didn't serve them. Instead had a bowl of big, crunchy pretzels with honey mustard and stone-ground mustard for dipping.
Red velvet cupcakes: Made with Egg Beaters instead of whole eggs and applesauce instead of veg oil.
Shredded cheese and sour cream for taco bar: Used reduced fat versions of both.
Drinks: Offered diet sodas in all flavors for mixers and had a low-carb beer available.
Veg tray/dip: Used light sour cream.
Candy: Offered fat-free licorice instead of M&Ms.
Taco Bar: Offered whole wheat and corn tortillas in addition to white flour versions.
Tortilla chips: Baked Tostitos Scoops, baby.
What did this mean for me? Meant there was room for a delicious, soft, chewy chocolate chip cookie bar once everyone left and we were cleaning up the kitchen. Yum.
P.S. I have enough beer left over to have ANOTHER party sometime soon. Think of a reason to celebrate and come on over!
Trash to Treasure?
We have a "new" piece of exercise equipment in our house as of 2 p.m. today.
It's a gently used Total Gym that was taking up space in a friend's garage. Friend's husband was threatening to throw it in a dumpster, but my husband wanted to try it out, so we're the proud, new adoptive parents.
It's one of those sliding incline benches with pulleys that allow you to use the resistance of your own body weight to do a whole range of upper body workouts. Jim carted it to the basement, dusted it off, hooked everything up and promptly broke a sweat. I got a 10-minute demo and will try it out more extensively when he's not there to watch.
I like the idea of having something new to play with. It's good for my head and my back fat.
It's a gently used Total Gym that was taking up space in a friend's garage. Friend's husband was threatening to throw it in a dumpster, but my husband wanted to try it out, so we're the proud, new adoptive parents.
It's one of those sliding incline benches with pulleys that allow you to use the resistance of your own body weight to do a whole range of upper body workouts. Jim carted it to the basement, dusted it off, hooked everything up and promptly broke a sweat. I got a 10-minute demo and will try it out more extensively when he's not there to watch.
I like the idea of having something new to play with. It's good for my head and my back fat.
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