Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #13

My feet are smaller. And so are my fingers. And by smaller, I mean thinner I guess.

My feet are wide to start with. And I used to have to buy size 8 shoes to accommodate them when I couldn't get a wide width. Today I bought a normal 7-1/2 and a 7.

As for the fingers ... my engagement ring has been too big since late last summer. My wedding band was smaller and I moved it from my left ring finger to my left middle finger when I could no longer safely keep it on. But I felt funny not wearing a wedding ring at all, and dug a simple gold band out of my jewelry box to put there.

After a few more pounds disappeared, I had to move the wedding band from my left middle finger to the right ring finger.

And now, all these months later, my wedding band is on my right middle finger. The gold band is on my left  middle finger. My engagement ring is in the jewelry box.

And my left ring finger is bare naked.

I keep hoping Jim will notice and/or care and bring home a bigger diamond to show off my skinnier left ring finger. But so far, no luck. Guess that means I'll just have to go get them all re-sized pretty soon.

Rattle, Rattle, Thunder, Clatter, Boom, Boom, Boom ...

Subtitle: A Short Course on Small Engines

We all know that engines require fuel to run. We give them fuel; they produce power. Power to make our wheels turn, power to do our heavy lifting, power to take care of the things we need to take care of.

Now, you have a choice in fuel. There's the low-grade fuel and the high-quality fuel. The low-grade fuel doesn't allow the engine to produce as much power or run as efficiently. The high-quality fuel, on the other hand, delivers quite a punch ... your engine works better and runs much longer.

It is very important to note that high-quality fuel may also result in a greater level (in amount and intensity) of emissions in the form of exhaust from said engine. Think muffler. 

This exhaust can be a difficult-to-manage, but sort-of-unavoidable by-product of high-quality fuel. You may notice it when you first change the quality of fuel you're consuming. Or, you may notice it as seasons change ... because as different kinds of fuel are available, you're filling up on all of them.

There are additives you can use to prevent these exhaust emissions. I'm betting more women choose to add them to their fuel tanks than men do.

Men just fluff the covers and laugh.

Bored

I'm starting to get bored. Bored with the treadmill. Bored with the food. Bored with thinking about it all the time.

This worries me.

So this weekend, I tried to do something different for exercise. And I tried to eat some different things. Because I don't want to get bored and then invent reasons to not do the things I need to do.

New Exercise

• Picking up a winter's worth of dog poop in the yard: Instead of carrying a paper grocery bag or 5-gal. bucket around, filling it up and dumping it once, I filled up the little "dust pan" scooper and walked each scooper full to the hay field to dump it. It made for a lot of little trips up and down a little hill in my butt-shaper tennies.
• Cleaning the garage: And cursing the fact that my push broom was only about 18" wide. It made for a lot of extra pushing, but I guess that was the point.
• Handweight Routine: Using 2-lb. or 3-lb. weights, I do a rotation of the following exercises as many times as I can in a row. 
• Lift arms straight out to the side (making a T shape)
• Lift arms straight out in front (like picking up a baby)
• Monkey curls (arms straight out at sides and bend at elbow to move weights into armpits like a monkey)
• Divebomber (bend 90-degrees at waist and lift arms up parallel to floor
• Lawnmower (put one knee on a chair and pretend like you're pulling the starter string on a lawnmower ... I usually put both weights in one hand for this one)

New Food

• Sweet potato hashbrowns: Grate a sweet potato on a cheese grater, fry on stovetop with a little canola and onion. It's not great ... because there is oil, but I just needed a change of pace and needed to feel like I was eating "meat and potatoes." At least there's nutrition in the sweet potatoes.
• Chicken sausage, peppers and penne: Cook an Italian chicken sausage (Woodman's), cut into diagonal slices and set aside. In the same pan, with a little olive oil, saute red peppers, onions, can of fire roasted tomatoes and a slightly spicy light green pepper like a Cubanelle or I used Anaheim. Season with basil, oregano, garlic ... whatever Italian blend you like. Toss it all together and serve over whole wheat penne.

Bring on the warm weather, already! My head needs a change of pace and I'm thinking some time in the yard (raking all the gravel that was pushed with the snowplow back onto the driveway ... ugh) and some time by the grill will be just the ticket.

Mirror Discoveries

At the risk of freaking out HR Girl, I'd like to share a few more things I've discovered in my big mirror:

1. My collarbone.
2. Biceps.
3. A totally gross and weird pooch of skin on my stomach that makes an appearance when I'm doing a plank ... it hangs down and flops around like the flaps under my arms. Note to self: wear tight workout top at all times to prevent this.
4. Missing double chins.
5. A person I'm just getting to know.

I Found Cookies in the Pantry Today

I went digging in the pantry today, looking for some crackers. There, under bags of Baked Cheetos and Baked Scoops, a partial bag of sliced almonds and next to cans of black beans and chipotle, I found a Ziplock bag of football shaped Oreos.

They were leftover from the Rose Bowl party.

In January.

Do you get what I'm saying? Cookies. In my house. That haven't been eaten. Since January.

This is a bizarre, new world.

Sweet, Salty Snack

I love sweet and salty flavors together. And I like things that crunch. This concoction was born last night in an effort to satisfy all those requirements.

Better Than Kettle Corn
Popcorn
Cinnamon Burst Cheerios
Butter Substitute
Cinnamon
Salt
Tastefully Simple Sweet Caramel Sprinkle

Pop the corn. I usually do it stove top with canola oil. Butter and salt it. Add a shake or three of cinnamon and a shot of Sweet Caramel Sprinkle (or a simple cinnamon/Splenda mixture would do). Toss in Cheerios. You could also stretch it with pretzels, almonds, golden raisins or even a few M&Ms! Mix and devour!

One Step at a Time

If someone had walked into my house a year ago and told me I had to lose 90 pounds and I had 12 months to do it ... or else ... I would have told them to get bent.

If someone would have told me I had to lose 45 pounds and I had 6 months to do it, I would have said much the same thing.

Luckily, no one walked into my house and demanded anything. (If you know me, you know taking direction isn't my best skill. Kind of like you can't play a Playa ... you can't boss around a bossy bi+$#.)

And I didn't put those requirements on myself, either.

I made a decision to be healthier. To eat less, eat right and exercise more. I had no idea how long it would take to lose a pound. I had no idea how much exercise was "enough" to get more fit. So I decided to try it for a while to see what would happen.

And I promised myself to do it for me.

So I tried to lose 10 pounds. When I'd lost 10 pounds, I could re-evaluate and see if I wanted to continue.

I wanted to continue.

So I went for another 10. And then I decided 10 more was possible.

And all of a sudden I had some new habits. I felt different. I believed I could succeed. And I learned that it wasn't nearly as hard as I'd feared.

I talked to Broken Treadmill Girl today and she said she's concentrating on 5-pound increments. She said she's learned that thinking about some big number is too much. Setting a reasonable, attainable goal prevents her from feeling so overwhelmed or pressured. And then succeeding with that smaller goal gives her confidence moving forward.

What's right for you? Only you know. But you do know if you really look deep and are honest with yourself.

This isn't new information to anyone, right? A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and all that jazz. Believe me, I used to think it was kind of a load of crap, too. Really, what difference can it make to think about things differently?

It made a big difference for me. 90 pounds big.

It's a Choice

You choose what you put in your mouth.

You choose how much exercise you get.

You choose how important it is for you to get healthier.

You choose to beat yourself up if you don't eat right or don't exercise enough one day.

You choose to quit.

Or you choose to start again tomorrow and do what you know is right.

You are in control of you.

Living healthy is a decision you make. It's not something that happens to you. It's not a punishment imposed on you.

It's your choice.

And again, the pounds will follow. I guarantee it.

Hang In There, Baby

If you're old enough, you remember that "famous" poster from the 70's with the cat hanging from a branch or something. It was an orange and white striped kitten, if my memory serves me, and the background was green. I can see it hanging on the rec room wall of my first babysitter's house. She was a cool teenager and I was still years away from that groovy concept.

I was reminded of it today when my Apple Tree Confidant texted me early in the a.m. I could tell she was feeling some frustration.

Apparently, she lost a pound. Her dismay was that it was "only" a pound. "That's not enough to keep me motivated," she said.

Back up the truck, Chuck.

Losing a pound is a BIG deal. Losing a pound is a step in the right direction. Losing pounds, one at a time, is how you get where you want to go.

I understand what she's feeling. We want it to come off faster. We want the hard work to pay off with big rewards.

But the truth is it came on one pound at a time and it will come off the same way. Marathon, not sprint.

When you start in on your program, when you change the way you eat and you change the way you move, it takes your body a little while to figure out what the hell you're doing to it. Some weeks it rewards you with two pounds gone or maybe even three. But some weeks, it hangs on to them all, no matter what you do.

It doesn't matter!!!!

You're making the choice to be healthier. And you're watching what you're eating. And you're exercising. You are making choices that are good for you.

THAT's the "win." Celebrate that.

The pounds will follow. But the important part is that you know what's right and you're doing it.

Believe you can do it. Because you can.

Noodles Nosh

I had lunch at Noodles & Company last week and recommend the Veg Med sandwich (sauce on the side) and Tomato Cucumber salad. Delicious, filling, a little pricy, but a good choice for about 400 calories, if I remember the nutrition guide right.

(I'd look it up right now, but my wireless connection is sucking wind.)

Big Bones

I really used to believe I had bigger bones than other people. I believed that I was naturally "thick" and would never/could never be small. I believed that a size 12 was the best I could do and that it was sort of physically impossible for me to go below that.


Today I noticed that my size 8 pants were significantly bigger than when I bought them and that my winter coat was too big.

Guess what? My bones aren't bigger than anyone else's (though my shoulders are sort of peculiarly wide ... something school nurse Bev Findlay would remind me of on scoliosis check day every year in elementary school). I'm probably not "naturally sturdy" in build. And I just put the last size 12 skirt in the Goodwill pile because it literally falls off my hips.

Who knew? Really, who could have imagined that?

Epilogue: I stood in line to buy my lunch today at the little coffee shop on the 4th floor. In front of me was a Polly Pocket. She was teeny. (And teeny is much smaller than tiny!) She was 4 foot 10, perhaps. And I could have folded her up, put her in my computer case and comfortably carried her home. She even had a little elf-like pixie haircut.

My bones were definitely bigger than hers. But not by as much as I used to believe.

You Inspire Me!

I have heard from a few of you in the past few weeks. Or I've heard about you, if you're too shy to speak up right now. (And trust me, I totally get that!).

What I've heard is that you're being successful. You've made some small changes. Some bigger changes. Some changes in the way you think and in the way you act.

"WINNING!" as Charlie Sheen would say, but without all the crack, I hope.

So it feels like it's time to let you in on a little secret.

What you might not know is how much I get out of this whole process. I love that you are finding your own path and making your own story.

Your experiences and our thoughtful discussions make me want to do better and be better and stay better. You help keep me honest with myself. So you are now part of my success.

Thank you.

Out on the Town!

We're going out tonight for a while to help Jim's nephew celebrate his 30th birthday. I'm not a big drinker and have no desire to potentially get silly at a bar. (I reserve those wild hair moments for parties at my house, generally.)

But hanging at a bar drinking diet soda gets old fast. And there's something about holding a big glass of bubbly brown liquid in my hand while everyone else has adult beverages that makes me feel like a 12-year-old.

So I drink seltzer with lime. Lots of lime. They ususally give it to you in a tub glass, so it looks like a gin and tonic. It's calorie free. Caffiene free. Guilt free.

JCPenney Still Thinks I'm Big

Today in my mailbox I found a spring catalog from JCPenney, entitled "14W-24W,Curve Appeal."

Part of me wants to call JCP and set them straight and part of me liked looking at it because some of the clothes are cute. So much cuter than I remember sizes 14W-24W being when I needed them, of course.

But it got me thinking about how the world sees me. Or you. Or anyone.

To my friends and family, will I always be the big girl who lost weight? Will you see her before you see me? Will you always watch me eat and wonder if I'm eating too much? Will you worry that I'm going to gain it all back? Will you be disappointed if I do or nudge me when you notice I'm packing on a few?

To the people I've met since, and who only know me as this, will you think I've always looked this way and assume (as I did about all people thinner than me) that it came easy? That I can't understand what it's like to struggle and work hard? Will they think I'm just "one of the lucky ones" that never had to worry and will they sort of secretly hate me just a little because of it? Am I the only one who felt this way about people who have always been thin?

The truth is that none of these people will spend much time thinking about me at all. Even I'm not so narcissistic to believe I'm the center of anyone's attention for long. JCPenney will eventually notice I'm buying different things and put me in a new market segment. But I believe your perceptions of how people view you affect how you view yourself. (That was a mouthful ... sorry if you have to read it slowly.)

So, most importantly, when will I start thinking of myself differently? Have I already? Will I ever feel like a "normal size" person? Or will I carry those pounds around in my head forever ... even if they don't show up on my thighs anymore? How will I ease back into a life that's not quite so incessantly preoccupied with what I put in my mouth and how much I'm moving my feet? I'm not going to lie ... the thought of slipping back and having to start over terrifies me. And I wonder if that will wear off over time and if old habits will come back. I am curious to see how this will all work out.

Stay tuned. You'll be the first to know.

Afraid to Fail

I had a conversation with my friend HR Girl the other day about why it's so hard to just "start" all this. Why is it so hard when you know what to do ... eat less, eat right, exercise more. You know it's probably not "fun" at first, but you also know it's not like getting poked in the eye with a stick. You know it will pay off and the reward of better health and a clearer head will be worth it. You know that you're already feeling like crap about yourself, so there's nowhere to go but up.

So why then, do we not just start? Why do we find a million excuses to not start?

In our best Dr. Phil impersonations, we ran through a few options and ended up with this:

Afraid to fail.

Afraid you'll try it and not be successful. Afraid everyone will know that you couldn't do it.

After thinking about it more, I'm going to argue against this theory. I think I didn't start because by starting I had to admit that I'd ALREADY failed. I had to admit that it wasn't OK to be as big as I was. I had to admit that I didn't like me. I had to admit that I had a problem. I had to admit that I was hurting. Or acknowledge it "out loud" anyway.

You see, as I got bigger, I kept trying to justify me. I hunkered down inside myself and dared you to treat me differently. If you did, you were the one with the problem and I was right. And righteous. The world should love me the same if I'm big or small, for heaven's sake. I built up this attitude that everything was just fine and you'd better not suggest otherwise. And if you did, I got to be the victim of YOUR prejudice ... so you were the one with the problem and not me.

I'm not sure that makes sense or if I'm explaining it right. The truth is I was afraid. And I had a bunch of bad habits that I believed would require too much effort to change. And I didn't believe in myself enough. 

It's good to not be afraid anymore. It's good to have better habits.

Most of all, it's good to believe in me.

Exercise is Everywhere

In conjunction with yesterday's post about how to not eat when all you can do is think about eating, here are a few ways to sneak in some extra exercise that don't involve a gym, special attire or sweat.

1. Park far away. You can double your steps if you just park twice as far away. (I break this rule when it's raining.) I'm young, healthy and able someone needs those close spots much worse than me. 
2. Hurry. There's a guy in my office who half runs everywhere he goes. He's a little, tiny, Asian man whose name I don't know and I admire his dedication. Literally, every time you see him, he's scooting as fast as he can without running, kind of the same gait that kids have when you tell them not to run indoors. I'm not suggesting you have to almost run, but hurrying faster than you normally do counts.
3. Fidget. Burns more calories.
4. Stand up. I am involved in a lot of conference calls. Many don't require me to be an active participant, but merely a listener. So I put my phone on "speaker" and "mute", push my chair back and stand up. Sometimes I march. Sometimes I do leg lifts. I'm lucky in that I have a door and no one can see me doing this. But even in cubeville, you could do it.
5. Walk. Walk around your office building (inside or outside) during lunch. Walk to get the mail if your mailbox isn't attached to your house and normally you drive up to it. Walk to the neighbors to return the flashlight you borrowed instead of dropping it off on your way to/from work. And if you MUST have ice cream, walk to get it if you can. Park a few blocks away if you have to.
6. Opt for the harder way. Today was garbage day at my house. Jim gets the garbage down to the road. I bring the empty cans back up the long driveway ... the hard way. I don't roll them, though they have wheels. I carry them. It's a free resistance exercise.
7. Take the stairs. Duh.
8. Load it up. In my grocery store, I have the option to pick up my soda at the end cap on aisle one or in the regular beverage section at the very last aisle. I choose to put it in my cart on aisle one so I have to push a heavier cart the whole time.
9. Return the cart to the inside of the store when you're done.
10. Do squats or kicks or arm circles while you brush your teeth.
11. Shake your groove thing during TV commercials.
12. Have more sex.

OK, you might sweat on that last one. (If you're doing it right.)

Eat Your Heart Out

What do you do when all you can think about is eating?

It always struck me after the dinner dishes were done. And it still does. Currently, my obsession is those hard, sour dough pretzels. I get up off the couch, walk to the pantry, break off a chunk of a pretzel, sit down and eat it. And five minutes later, I am taking the same walk to the pantry to eat the other part of the pretzel. Seven minutes later, repeat.

The more you try to NOT think about getting up again, the more possessed you become. And before you know it, three hours later you've eaten a yogurt and five pretzels and some cheese and an apple and a piece of Dove and some craisins and a handful of potato chips ...

You know how it goes.

So here are some options for not eating. In the end, you decide NOT to eat and you don't. But that's so much easier said than done.

1. Eat a good meal ... and by good, I mean eat a LOT. But it has to be a LOT of good stuff. I could never have a teaspoon full of roast and potatoes and call it a day. So I opted for a medium-size mixing bowl of lettuce, carrots, cherry tomatoes, red peppers ... whatever raw veg I could fill it up with. And then sprinkle on appropriate portions of chicken, almonds, low-fat cheese. I like to add a few baked chips, too, if it was a taco version. Your belly gets FULL and then you don't want to eat afterward.

2. If you must snack, start with the healthy stuff. Trust me ... when you put a whole head of cauliflower in your gut, you don't want to eat anything else. You get all gassy (gross but true) and eating more is not so appealing. (Warn your spouse.) Or eat protein to get a fell-full-longer effect. Then wait 20 minutes before you eat anything else to let your head catch up with your stomach and know that you really are full.

3. Exercise instead. In the beginning, I worked out at night. Looking back on it now, I know that doing so just kept me busy during a time when I could have been visiting the fridge. Walk, stretch, lift weights, do sit-ups or core strengthening. Even if it's for 15 minutes ... it snaps your head out of the "food, food, food" focus.

4. Drink a big glass of water before you allow yourself the food. Again, fills you up.

5. Leave the house to walk the mall or Shopko. Run errands. Clean the garage. Do something that requires you to get up off your butt and away from the food.

6. Ask your family for encouragement or help. I think I've mentioned it before ... I used to go to bed and my stomach would growl. I'd whine, "I'm hungry!" Jim would say, "No you're not." And it helped me get my head back on straight.

7. Learn the difference between hungry and wanting to eat. When you're used to eating more, it's partly a habit to put hand to mouth. You have to break the habit ... or replace it with a new one. Like blogging!

8. Chew gum. I have learned that I really just like to chew. Gum takes care of that for me. Mentos Watermelon is my favorite.

9. Think about just getting through tonight. Accept that it's going to be a pain in the ass. Really concentrate on the fact that there's nothing in the fridge that will taste as good as having a smaller butt. If you really can't get it out of your head, agree to eat it on Saturday (or whenever) if you still want it. You're not denying yourself forever. Just until you've had some time to think about it.

Before you know it, one day turns into two and three and a week and a month. And little by little, the results show. And that's powerful incentive!

What do you do? Comment on the post and share your recommendations with others.

Game On Update

It's not going so well in our house. Last week we both had 10 to go and today we still have those 10 to go. Plus one more each. For a grand total of 11 per person. 

Ugh.

Crap.

Pfffftttthhhhhhhttttt.

But we're still trying. Something tells me these last 10 are going to be soooooo much harder than the first 10.

I hope you're having better luck. But if you're not ... just remember:

Do the right things often enough and the good things will happen. Repeat it in your head again and again and again. I sure am.

No Sky Diving

Jim and I went to Vegas a couple of years ago for a quick getaway. I had a trade show to work and because we were sponsors of the event, I got a fancy room upgrade in the Venetian, a limo ride from the airport and a fruit basket.

Now, I'm not a huge fan of Vegas. But as far as Vegas trips go, this one seemed pretty promising.

Before we left, I hopped online and wanted to find something fun and different to do. Since we'd been to Sin City more than once, we'd already hit many of the standard sites.

I found the coolest simulated sky diving place. While I love the idea of sky diving, I'd never actually do it. Too much risk. I think I'd like the ride down, I just don't think I could ever hurl my body through the open door of a plane. This seemed like a great alternative. All the sensation, none of the risk.

I was all ready to make the reservation when I noticed the criteria: Maximum Weight 200-something Pounds. (I can't remember, exactly.)

Whatever it was, I weighed more. Or at least too close to open myself up to the embarrassment of potentially having to weigh in and go over.

I couldn't do it because I was too big.

So I turned off the computer. We went to Vegas, enjoyed the suite and the limo and the fruit basket. Went to this really pedestrian race car driving simulator that completely stunk in comparison to my original vision. And the whole while I felt like crap.

I really wanted to fake sky dive.

(And I'm never going to let being too big stop me from doing something again.)

Grocery Pride

It's so lame, but I get this little rush when I'm piling my groceries on the checkout belt and they look so colorful and fresh and healthy. There's this part of me that's just like a little kid, sitting in the front row, with my arm raised high ... just bursting with hope that the teacher will call on me because I know I have the right answer.

And I'll get the gold star.

In the grocery store, I want the checker to comment on my beautiful and skillfully selected cart contents. I want her to compliment my dedication to good nutrition. I want her to admire this thing I have created.

I'd also like her to give me a gold star.

Sharing the Good News ...

Good news gathered from our little blog family during the past couple of weeks:

Broken Treadmill Lady, in spite of obvious complications, hopped on her other equipment and managed to lose 8 pounds in two weeks. Better yet, she said she feels like her head is really "there" this time. Broken Treadmill Lady has taught me so much about this journey and was one of my biggest cheerleaders as I began this whole thing. Her support made a big difference ... so it's fun to cheer back her way now.

My Teacher friend had a new elliptical delivered last week and this morning said she cranked up her program another level, burned 400 calories in 30 minutes and was sweating from head to toe ... but also said she was "feeling awesome!" She also told me that this elliptical thing is "so much fun!" How great is that?

My AZ sister told me last week that she and her husband were making a change. They grocery shopped to load up on the healthy stuff and were DONE with too-frequent eating out and  late night sweet treats. I firmly believe it's so much easier together ... you go, girl!

My Apple Tree Confidant said she'd also had enough and joined Weight Watchers Online. I am dying to hear more about this ... WW has been really helpful for so many people I know and I love the idea of doing it online. She's got a lot going on right now and I'm most proud of her for putting herself first in this one way. You deserve it.

I hope YOU had a good week and did something good for yourself, too. Want someone to celebrate your success? Send me a note! We're all in this together.

Addiction?

There's this guy I work with who used to be a competitive body builder. I don't know the details, but I have seen a photo with a Speedo and baby oil and I know he's really passionate about it. In my new-found bravery regarding my self image, I decided to ask him for some advice. While I have hand weights and a bench press set-up, I don't really know how to use them to their best advantage.

Yesterday, we went to the fitness center on the third floor of my office building and he walked me through a dozen or so options for biceps, triceps, shoulders, back, chest and core.

I can get in more detail if you want (let me know), but that wasn't the most interesting part of the conversation. The most interesting part went like this:

Him: "What are you doing for cardio?"

Me: "I'm walking nearly every day, 4 miles at minimum usually and then 5 or 6 miles per day on the weekend. I vary speeds between 4.3 and 5.0 and I'm at about a 3.5% incline."

Him: "OK, what are you doing for weights?"

Me: "I have 2 lb., 8 lb., 10 lb., 15 lb. and 20 lb. handweights. I do bicep curls and an assortment of other things. I bench 30 lbs., four sets of 12 reps about three times a week."

Him: "It would probably be a good idea to do your cardio four or five times per week and weights two or three times per week."

Me, gasping. Then vehemently objecting: "NO! I can't do that. I'm not ready to do that."

Him, shaking his head: "You're addicted."

Me: "No, I'm still trying to lose. And I need to do the cardio. I feel better when I do. And, I'm way too scared to stop."

He spent the next 15 minutes explaining that my body has changed, that it's a different kind of machine, that I don't "need" to do that amount of cardio every day to lose weight. I shook my head at him the whole time.

I was surprised by my reaction. There is NO WAY I'm not walking every day. I need it. I want it. I can't imagine giving it up. Even though I grudgingly do it some mornings, I can't fathom NOT doing it. I'm so scared that if I skip one day, or two days heaven forbid, that I'm going to gain 10 pounds overnight and start stuffing french fries and HoHos (I love HoHos)  in my face immediately.

I mean, it was like someone threatening to take away my Cherry Coke Zero. You'll pull back a nub, if that makes sense.

So I've been thinking about it. Just thinking about it. My reaction to his suggestion really surprised me. I'm not going to back off. I can't. Not right now. But I will think about it. How will I know when it's the right time? How will I back down a little? Will I? Can I back down a little without going back to the slippery slope of "old me?" I know I have to manage this every day for the rest of my life ... and that's a sort of overwhelming thought.

But for right now, I'm really just wondering, "Am I addicted?"

I Have a Neck

I always thought my big, square head rested directly on my shoulders. I avoided turtlenecks and any form of shoulder padding like the plague.

But it occurred to me this morning that I have an actual, honest-to-goodness, normal neck. It's the thing that separates my chin from my chest and it isn't really that abnormally short anymore.

Thank goodness that exhuming it didn't require adding an increasing number of metal rings. I'm not sure I have the stomach for that. And I imagine that method makes getting through airport security VERY difficult.  

Hmmm. Wonder what else I'm going to find in that enormous mirror if I stand there long enough.

Here Fishy Fishy

Some of you who read this blog have been baiting me in the last couple of days. Intentionally torturing me. Which isn't nice.

You've sent me links, asking me to join you in some cool challenge: challenges like a two-day, bazillion-mile bike ride for MS. Or a triathalon.  You're doing it because you know how much I get off on the idea of the challenge. And you're doing it because you've already met these challenges in previous years and you want me to put my money where my mouth is.

And I love you for it. Because I TOTALLY dig the idea of the challenge.

So on a day when I'm eyeball deep in work issues, running from fire to fire, emailing as fast as my fingers can type ... I find myself sidetracked in daydream land, wondering what it would be like to actually join one of these things.

I think about how I need to get a road bike (and those fancy pedals and a trailer hitch bike carrier and a trainer and padded-butt shorts ...). I wonder how long it takes to swim a half mile (and how cold the water is, and how I can't really do a frog kick anymore, and how many people drown in the chaos that must be the start line ...). I wonder if I'd walk faster than some would run. I know I can walk.

The truth is, I think I could do some of these things. If I really wanted to, I could find a way to make time for training. I'd really like to say I did it.

On the other hand, I'm a commit-a-phobe. And so NOT a joiner. That's why I walk by my anti-social self in my basement.

But wouldn't it be cool?

Let me know if you're interested.
http://bikewig.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?fr_id=15481&pg=entry
http://www.trekwomenstriathlonseries.com/wisconsin.html

Veggie Pitas

Portabello mushroom caps, sliced
Roasted red peppers, sliced
Carrots, sliced
Onions, sliced
Cauliflower, sliced
Olive oil
Mrs. Dash, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper to taste
Grated Italian Four Cheese blend
Whole wheat pitas

Heat oil in skillet. Toss in veg and seasonings. Sautee until just a little bite is left. Add vinegar if you like it. Toss the cheese in and let it get all melty. Cut a pita in half. Heat it up a little in the microwave. Stuff it full of veggies and cheese. Yum!

Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #12

When you step out of the shower and wrap a bath towel around you, it actually goes all the way around you. Even overlapping in the front.

So if the UPS man happened to ring the doorbell at exactly the wrong moment, you wouldn't totally embarrass yourself.

Sweat or Glow?

I hear that in the South, true ladies don't perspire. They glow.

I'm here to tell you, it's a good thing I live up north. Because I sweat. Like a farmhand. On a hot, humid and windless day.

And it just doesn't seem to get "better," which I don't understand. I am on my darling treadmill nearly every day and my workout doesn't increase in intensity that much from one morning to the next. It seems like at some point, my body would become a more efficient machine and get used to the output. Cruise control, if you will. Or like a high-efficiency furnace, it would produce more while working less hard.

But no.

I sweat. Buckets full. Nearly every morning my racerback workout shirt with the built-in bra is soaking wet. So much so that I'm kind of grossed out when I pull it off over my head. Plus, what started as Medusa morning hair is flat on my head and dripping at my neck. 

On a bright note, I'm assuming all this purging of body fluids means my pores are really clean.

I have to be honest, though. I like it. It's tangible proof that I accomplished something. A badge of honor, awarded just to me every day.

There's a round mirror that hangs over a hall table at the top of the stairs to my basement. Every morning after my workout, as I climb back upstairs to get the rest of my day started, I look in it. I see the sweat running down my neck and my drenched top and I think, "You've done something good for yourself and no matter how crappy today is, no one can take that away from you."

And I also think, "It's OK to have a little extra peanut butter, too. You earned it."

Happy Anniversary, Happy Birthday and Happy New Us

It's officially been one year since this whole thing began.

And what a long, strange year it's been, as they say.

Kati turned 23 yesterday. Last year, we had her birthday dinner at Texas Roadhouse, one of her favorites. She got to ride the saddle as the wait staff sang (much to her chagrin) and Jim and I tried to eat according to this brand new thing called a Mediterranean diet. Jim ate a small steak. I had grilled shrimp and green beans and off we went.

In the year since, I lost 89 pounds. Jim lost 45.

In that year, I tore my meniscus. (And just yesterday, Jim smashed his index finger.)

In that year, we learned to eat. I estimate we peeled and cut up approximately 50 honeydew melons, another 50 cantaloupes and devoured at least 100 pounds of red seedless grapes, 100 pounds of carrots and another 40 pounds of cauliflower.

In that year, I walked over 1000 miles on my treadmill. And though I can only bench press 30 pounds, I have done it about 2000 times.

My body has changed. My brain has changed. My outlook has changed.

So last night, as we celebrated Kati's special day with Tilley's pizza and a marble cake with butter cream frosting, I ATE IT ALL.

Perhaps best of all, I ate it from a new pair of size 6 jeans.

Life is good.

Game On!

Jim and I are having a contest. He's got 10 pounds and I have about 11 to go to our goal weights. He thinks he can beat me. I think he can't.

I sabotaged him last week by bringing home a bag of malted milk ball eggs (his favorite) and they disappeared fairly quickly. He's clueless. Don't tell him.

P.S. Nancy ... I hear you're in Florida and I hope you're having a wonderful time!

Experimentation

After my totally surprising no-weight-gain vacation, I've been doing some experimenting.

While I was gone, I thought that what I ate would have a bigger impact than it did. Yes, I still worked out a fair amount ... but it sure seemed like I should have gained something. (I'm not complaining, mind you!)

So for the past two weeks, I've been playing around with what I've been eating. I've added a fruit serving to my breakfast. I've peppered in some carbs (pretzels) to my lunch. I've even added some volume (usually in the form of vegetables) at dinner time.

And, it seems like I'm losing more faster.

Now, it could still be a hydration thing. I'm also helping Jim in the basement sporadically during a few evenings a week. And it's not like I'm losing a lot fast. Last week was fairly stable, wavering up and down two pounds over the 7 days. This week, I have lost another two.

Maybe I wasn't eating enough or the right things at the right times. Surely it's time for a trip to the nutritionist to know for sure. But just maybe it's good to switch things up every now and again.

BMI Bull$%!#

I was reading some article on some website today during my lunch break. And some doctor was quoted for some reason endorsing the effectiveness of BMI as a measure of health. Since I had no idea what my BMI was, I searched for an online calculator and plugged in my height and weight, smugly pushed the button and expected to be rewarded for all my hard work.

Guess what? I'm still "overweight."

I'm not "obese," which is what I know I was before. But I'm still comfortably in the freaking "overweight" category.

Picture a deflating balloon here. Or the sound effect version, descending tone of "Wah-wah-wah."

Seriously?

After my initial feelings of total defeat and near hopelessness, I got mad.

How is a size 8 overweight? And if it is, what size do I have to be to NOT be overweight? Should all women in the world be a size 4 or 6? Is that right? It's no wonder people have body image issues and have no concept of what healthy really is.  

I get that I still have weight to lose. I get that I'm not what anyone would call "thin." I can see that I'm still fairly solid. But it's so disheartening to have worked so hard and have this darn computer thing tell me I'm STILL overweight.

It goes back to things I've mentioned in earlier posts. It's hard to know what's right. It's hard to know what X pounds looks like because it can look very differently on different people. It's hard to judge anything based on the size of a pair of jeans because there's so much variation between brands and bodies and butts.

How do you know if you're normal?

Here's what I know ... and it's enough. I'm so much better off than I was before. If you're reading this, you also are at least thinking about getting healthier. And that's all this is. One day of eating right is better than none. Two days of dancing around your living room is better than one. And, little by little, those little steps turn into longer distances.

If you just concentrate on the next pound, the one after that will take care of itself.

(And I know that getting to the high end of "normal" for me is only 10 or so pounds away ... unless I suddenly grow 3 or 4 inches taller. Wouldn't that be great!)

P.S. I Bought a Mirror

Yup. I did it.

I bought one of those lean-against-the-wall, full-length mirrors.

I see myself when I walk out of my closet. I see myself when I go to the master bath. I see myself every time I leave my bedroom.

And, I actually look.

Unexpected Downside of Being Thinner #9

Everyone comments on what you eat.

I know they probably don't mean anything bad by it. But it gets tiresome to 1) have to address it and 2) feel like you need to defend vegetables.

Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #11

Hugging is better. Much better.

You can get so much closer and your significant other can wrap you up so much more completely.

I'm Not Heavy, I'm Your Laptop

Like most mornings, today started with me schlepping my computer bag into work. It was loaded with my laptop, power cords, assorted files, notebook, pens, clutch purse ... and this Tuesday, it also happened to contain two bags of candy to replenish Craig's stash of Tootsie Rolls and chocolate eggs.

The bag is a black patent leathertte dealio, pressed with a crock pattern. It has two handles that sling over my shoulder, wider at the base than the top. In other words, from far away it looks a smidge stylish. Up close, it's clearly a department store bargain.

The whole kit-and-kaboodle weighs less than 20 pounds.

As I hiked across the parking lot, almost getting winded, I couldn't help but think that a year ago, I was dragging that 20 pounds, plus 65 more, everywhere I went. And, sometimes I was carrying that damn computer bag, too.

I can't even get my head around that right now.

Anyone who's carrying that much extra weight around every day, all day long, is strong. Allowing yourself to carry less, by losing some, is so much easier than continuing to lug it around.

I keep thinking about this couple that came to the fitness center at the hotel the last two days of my vacation. The gentleman was big. Like 350 pounds big if I had to guess. And he came in both days to walk. He didn't walk fast. He didn't walk for a long time. But he was in there walking. The effort he was expending to do what he did was so much more than what I was putting forth to walk faster and farther. The courage it took for him to simply go into the fitness center was so much more than I had at my heaviest.

In other words, being thinner is a LOT of work. But it's so much easier than getting bigger.

I promise.