Real Food

I have this belief about snacking that goes something like this:

You can eat as much as you want as long as it's "real food."

Nothing processed. Nothing from a box. Nothing with chemicals in it. Nothing with fake ingredients.

So, when I'm going to graze, if I feel the need to munch, if I just gotta crunch ... I head for real food. Sometimes it's raw veg or fresh fruit. Sometimes it's cheese. Sometimes it's yogurt. Pistachios. Homemade hummus or salsa with homemade whole wheat pita chips.  Chocolate soy milk ...

... and occasionally, Honey Nut Cherrios. (Yeah, they come in a box, but they're about as harmless as Rice Krispies.)

Now, I'm pretty sure this isn't foolproof advice. You can eat too much of all these things. But at least when you're consuming them, your body is also getting some nutrition.

Snacking smarter makes me feel better. Inside and out.

Half Marathon Creepeth

Our friends GaryAllanFan and Amber are running their first half marathon in less than two weeks.

Did you hear me? LESS THAN 2 WEEKS!

I'm envious. And amazed. And impressed. I want to be there to watch them cross the finish line because I want to see the smiles on their faces and witness that feeling of accomplishment as it washes over them.

They have worked so hard. They have pushed themselves so far. And they are ready to take on the challenge. Finishing is the goal and I know that they've done everything they can to be ready. (If any of you are having trouble with motivation or dedication, I suggest you talk to these two via this blog or I can hook you up if you prefer.) 

I simply can't wait to hear about it when they return. Well, actually, they'd better text me before they get back home. I want to know every detail, mental and physical. I kind of wish they could take some notes along the route, but that would probably be asking too much.

As I've said before, they inspire me. They also reminded me that it was time to look at a training plan for my own half marathon attempt in May. Holy crap. May is only 8 weeks away. Like everyone else who trains, I have to work around life's little challenges: work travel, weather, my in-laws house move, etc. But I'm hoping to piggy back on the endorphins created in Florida as GAF and Amber feel the sun, pound the pavement and tackle those 13.1 miles.

Go get'em CC girls! We're all pulling for you.

Cranky Girl

Woke up late, had to be in Madison early, hit the ground running with no workout this morning.

And you know what that means ...

Cranky Girl appeared.

Well, Cranky Girl, with a little Overwhelmed Girl and Scattered Rambling Girl mixed in. My head just wasn't in the game and not ready to take on the inevitable challenges the day, mercilessly, threw at me.

It's true. Working out makes me feel better physically and it makes me feel better mentally. Repeat 100 times and remember it at 5:30 a.m. tomorrow.

Healthy Options at Olive Garden

It kind of seems like the words in the title of this blog entry should not all be in one sentence. But it's true.

A very special 8-year-old celebrated her birthday by choosing her favorite restaurant for dinner this evening and Olive Garden it was. Great, I thought. Pasta and cheese and bread.

I was first to arrive and had a few minutes with the menu. "Healthier choices" were marked, but you couldn't tell what "healthier" meant. So I asked for a nutrition guide (you CAN do this!!!!) and I learned a lot.

1) Salads aren't so smurfy at Olive Garden. BUT you can ask for light dressing on the side for the traditional family-style-bowl-of-yummy they bring to the table. And when you control the dressing, you rule the world.

2) There were several options under 600 calories. I chose an apricot chicken number with broccoli and asparagus, no pasta, for 400 calories. I even brought one of the two pieces of breast meat home to freeze for a rainy day. Think pasta with marinara or grilled meat with veg sides. You can substitute steamed veg sides for the not-so-healthy sides, you just have to ask!

3) You can substitute whole wheat fettuccine for any noodle in any dish.

4) There are gluten-free options, too.

5) The dinner portion of Fettuccine Alfredo has 75 grams of fat. Yes, I said 75.

Navigating the restaurant meal can be tough. But it's possible. Don't be afraid to speak up. Ask for a nutrition guide. Ask for substitutions. If we ask enough, our "votes" get counted and maybe, just maybe, they'll hear what we want and start to include more healthy options.

Safety First

It was a beautiful afternoon for a run. Sunny. Warm. Not windy. I was full of lung, full of leg and I thought it was going to be an easy six miles, maybe more. I headed toward the little town and hit my halfway point when I noticed something strange.

Just after mile four in the middle of my little town, a white Dodge pickup passed by me, heading north. About 5 minutes later, he came back toward me, heading south. Then he preceded to turn down every side street. He'd do a U-turn at the end (because this town is really little and the side streets don't go anywhere), come back out to the main street, sit at the stop sign, then pull out in front of me. Staying just ahead of me as he went.

Then he'd do the same at the next side street.

Then the next.

Now, my little town has only four or five side streets. After that, on the way to my house, there's a hill, 10 houses clustered in a 25 mph zone, followed by a 1.6 mile stretch with a handful of houses that sit way off the road. In other words, nowhere to run and no one to hear you scream if something weird happens.

So I panicked. And called Jim. "There's a Dodge that might be following me. Can you come get me?"

"On my way," he said.

My knight in shining armor (or Caterpillar hoodie and man slippers) showed up minutes later. He'd passed the white truck and I explained my story. The dude could have been delivering newspapers, I guess. I'll never know.

But I have been told that pepper spray is in my future.

Those of you that run alone ... and run in the early morning or evening dark ... how do you protect yourself?

Germs = Diet Plan

We have ice cream in the house right now. Strawberry swirl. And it's really good.

It was purchased for my father-in-law. But because he didn't eat it all before he left, I'm faced with an open container of something I really like.

The problem? My willpower isn't so great these days.

The solution?

Jim. Well, Jim and his germs. Right now he's sitting next to me, with a spoon and the ice cream. Normally, I'd be demanding a spoonful or two. Or three.

But I'm not tonight.

I'm not asking to share the deliciousness because Jim was sick earlier this week. Grossly and juicily sick in ways it's not polite to discuss.

All of a sudden, sharing a spoon doesn't sound like such a great idea. I guess I should be grateful that he's preventing me from ingesting useless calories, right?

Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Jim.

My Mama Moves!

Some mornings, it's hard to drag my tuchus (tokus/tochis?) down the stairs to put my four miles in. But every time it is, I conjur up my mother and it helps me get moving.

You see, she's about to turn 70 years old and she puts in two miles every day herself. Well, every day that it's nice enough outside to get it done ... because she hates her treadmill.

And she walks fast. I occasionally have a hard time keeping up with her.

Here's the kicker, the older she gets, the more important the walk becomes to her. She knows that the more she moves, the better off she is. The stronger her bones are. The better her head thinks. The more productive her day is.

I like this.

She's not one of those retired folks who are content to sit on the couch. Nor is she fanatical about counting every calorie ... but she eats a balanced diet of real food and indulges every now and again.

She's not tiny and she's not too big. She's strong and healthy.

I sure hope I'm like her when I grow up.

I Give Up

I guess I should have said, "I'm giving them up."

As in my beloved sourdough hard pretzels. For Lent. (Sob!)

Day one is almost done and the signs of withdrawal are everywhere. While I don't have tremors, I did eat four, count'em FOUR pieces of fried cod tonight in search of that crunch. It's going to be a long six weeks. 

Why the pretzels? The only other options I could come up with were chocolate or Cherry Coke Zero. And, let's be honest, there was no way either one of those was going to happen. 

So, to prepare last night, I opened a shiny, new bag. Then I ate three pretzels ... which is two too many right before bed. Then I carefully folded over the top of the bag, put a chip clip on and said a small eulogy-like silent prayer. Then I wept a little. 

OK, I'm exaggerating a little there. But I was kind of sad. 

I am not, however, exaggerating my addiction. It's real.   

In fact, my husband and I actually refer to my pretzels as "crack," which makes for some interesting conversations in the grocery store. I always worry what innocent bystanders might think when they hear this: 

Jim: "Did you remember to pick up your crack?"

Lisa: "Of course! I actually got an extra bag." 

So, if you happen to also be a fan, please have an extra one for me. Just don't rub it in. 

(Interesting backstory: I have always loved the idea of giving something up for Lent just to see if I could do it. For years, I would give up fast food and/or chocolate for Lent. I always hoped it would magically work like a "pre-test" of sorts to see if I could actually try to diet ... that maybe with God on my side I could find a way to do it. It never worked. Come Easter Sunday, all bets were off and I'd accidentally swing by Shopko or Target to cruise the half-price leftover candy aisle, perhaps hitting a McDonald's on the way. I think even God knew I had to stop looking for a magic bullet.)  

Train Your Brain, From an Expert

You've heard me say it before. The hardest muscle to get in shape is your brain. If you can find a way to get your head engaged, your butt will follow.

Your brain can also sabotage you. It will tell you your tired when your body can go farther. It will convince you that it's too early or too cold or too hard.

And today I found someone who agrees with me.

Well, since she's a professional triathlete, I guess I agree with her. Whatever.

Read this. It's good.

http://www.cnn.com/2012/02/21/health/chrissie-wellington-triathlete-champion/index.html?hpt=hp_bn10

Magic Beans, Version 2

Today's goal ... 7.5 to 8 miles. Beans taken at about 4.5 miles in.

Again, no tingles.

But I finished strong. I felt really good. Not sure if it was stronger than I would have felt without them. It's hard to tell on such a perfect morning ... you just feel strong because it was a simply gorgeous day with the birds chirping and the sun shining. (I'm telling you, it's the best part of the day! You just gotta try it. The rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the pavement and your breath pumping out of your lungs as you, just you, power yourself forward. It's really magical.)

I did learn that they sort of freeze in the early morning cold and need a few seconds in your mouth to warm up so you can chew them. They didn't bother my stomach at all.

And they make me feel like I'm eating candy ... which I like. So no harm and no significant impact.

Will try them again on a longer run next weekend.

Magic Beans, Version 1

OK, I tried the Jelly Belly Beans today. I conferred with some respected advisers last night over a beer and learned that your body has enough stores to get you through a 60 minute workout. But if you plan on going farther, you should ingest the beans about 30 minutes before you "need" the boost.

So, let's say you're going to run for 90 minutes. Take the beans 30 minutes into your run, and you get the effects at the 60-minute mark. Take another serving at 60 minutes to get you to the 90-minute finish line.

I was only going to do about 60 minutes today, so I just popped 'em in my mouth before I left the house ...  just to see if I noticed anything.

And ... I didn't.

I felt pretty good, and could have gone longer, but am saving up for a long run tomorrow.

I wanted some tingle. Or electrical pulses. Perhaps quivering.

I didn't get that. And I gotta tell you, I'm disappointed.

It was still a beautiful day for a run, however.

And Now Woodman's is Screwing with Me!

First it disappeared from the shelves at Pick N Save. I complained, but no one really cared.

I didn't worry too much, however, because Woodman's always had it. Since I do about half of my shopping there, I knew to stock up whenever I pushed my cart past.

And now Woodman's is effing with me. I simply cannot make weekly trips to three different grocery stores to get my basic supplies.

And yes, I'm referring to Reduced Fat Chunky Skippy. Plenty of Reduced Fat Creamy everywhere. Plus 400 other varieties/brands on the shelves. (No one needs that many choices!)

Why oh why must the one I love disappear?

New Routine

I'm working on a new schedule. I'm still not sure if it's right, so there may be more tinkering to come.

But I've come to realize that I'm really in maintenance mode. And I have to get my head in that place and REALLY understand it if I'm going to get out of this funk.

Because if I don't, I'm going to keep kicking myself for not eating perfectly and not working out enough. I'm going to feel badly for not being "good enough" and dread the scale. I don't want to live in that place between self-loathing and fear. I gave that up almost two years ago, remember?

So, here's where I'm at.

Workout Schedule:

• Monday and Friday are weights, leg lifts, butt lifts, sit-ups, planks, isometrics. All muscle stuff, no cardio. 
• Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday are cardio days. At least two days have to be full or mostly runs, four-mile minimums. 
• Saturdays and Sundays are long cardio days. One long run and one long bike ride, perhaps. If my knees can take it, maybe two long runs. 
• Oh, and there's room for a total skip day every once in a while. 

Eating:
The problem with figuring out how much is too much is that you have to eat too much to know. I'm still eating my bagel and peanut butter for breakfast. But I've added a fruit and a pretzel. Lunch is still usually a cup or two of raw veg, but now sometimes there's a small bag of popcorn and/or a fruit or yogurt. Dinner is a little more free-form, based on the day's intake. Limited carbs if the rest of the day was carb heavy. Salad at least twice a week. But a cookie every now and then isn't going to kill me. Maybe even twice a week.

I'm only going to weigh in a few times a week, too. Unless my pants start to feel tight.

We'll see how it goes. And I swear I'm going to stop focusing on my saddlebags as I pass by the patio door on the way to bed.

Amen.

Going to Try the Magic Beans

I have never used any supplements during a long run. You know ... those energy goo shots and the like. I don't know anything about them and never took any time to research them. I carry water, and drink it, but that's it. 

Part of me thinks the whole concept is kind of suspect. I mean, I get why you need nutrition/electrolytes/whatever if you're running a marathon or 50 miles or 100 miles. That makes sense. But do you really need them if you're only out for a 10-mile spin? My gut says, "Tough it out and if you can't, you're a pussy anyway."

GaryAllenFan said she also thought it might be BS. Until she tried the Jelly Belly Beans. 

She said they were like magic ... gave her a literal burst of energy during her long weekend run. 

So I'm going to do my own research. I hit All Season Runner tonight and bought a handful of different chews/beans. I'm going to give them a shot and see if they make a difference. The dosage seems to be one serving for every hour or 90 minutes you're training.

The guy working at the store said he likes the goo shots best because they bother his stomach the least. Keep in mind that he was wearing an Ironman Tshirt, so I expect his needs were/are far greater than mine. He did, however, recommend trying a bunch of different things and see what you like best. Good advice. 

Do you have any experience with this stuff? Comment and tell us what you like or what you don't and why

Today, I Walked

Don't feel like running?

Walk.

See, there are always options.

And, remember, if you do the right things often enough and good things will happen. Repeat 799 times.

I'm All Up in My Head Right Now

Just in case you think this is "easy" now that the bulk of my pounds are behind me ...

I'm really struggling right now. I'm not eating well. I'm cutting corners on my workouts. I'm justifying the cheats I put in my mouth and the cheats I take in my exercise room. I've convinced myself that I'm too tired or too overwhelmed or too stressed out to deliver a good performance. I've chosen to not weigh myself because I know the scale is going to be up.

In other words, I'm totally psyching myself out.

I ran almost 8 miles on Sunday. It was freezing cold and really windy. It was a genuinely tough run. So I know I CAN do it. But today, I barely managed 2 miles in a row before I took a quarter-mile walk break. I let my head convince the rest of me that the run/walk/run pattern was OK.

I could have done better.

I'm afraid these head games will turn into a spiral that will lead me back to bad habits. And we all know that bad habits lead to bigger pants.

I have got to get out of this mindset. This whole weight loss/weight management thing is a mental challenge before it is anything else. The choices you make ... what you eat and how much you work out ... are conscious decisions that happen every minute of every day. Your brain has the ability to get you up and over any literal or metaphorical hill. And it also has the ability to sabotage any and all efforts.

I know that diligent work and good decisions will lead me out of this current battle with my head. I'm a little irritated that I still have to think about it all so much. I want it to get easy. Or at least easier.

And then I remind myself ... this is easier than feeling the way I used to feel. But it's probably never going to be easy.

Oh, and ultimately, being healthy is worth the work I put in. Period.

Old Photos

I saw a photo of me, my sister and a bunch of beautiful cousins from 100 years or so ago today.

Well, not really 100 years ... but it sure seems like it. Maybe 18-22 years ago, in reality. In the snapshot, a bunch of us are sitting on the steps in front of my cousin Karen's house. I'm an adult. I have crazy 80's hair. (And so did my sister.) I was wearing this cool black, flowered, flowy, hippy-ish vest that I loved, but could never figure how to pair it up with the right thing.

And I was big.

Bigger than I remember being at that age.

What a kick in the head. 

Not sure I know that girl anymore. She looks really unfamiliar to me. And quite honestly, I don't want to look at her.

She makes me uncomfortable. I know how much she hated to have her photo taken. I can feel the constant and uneasy disconnect between the girl who was on the inside looking out and the girl on the outside that shows up on the film.

Part of me is embarrassed by her. Part of me knows she had to exist for me to be me. And part of me is just glad she's gone.

Carbed Out

I ate essentially nothing today BUT carbs.

And my gut is full. And it was good.

But now I'm miserable. So it's back on the veg wagon all week.

Funny how when you're not used to eating like that, you can actually feel the difference.

Mmmmeatballs!

On the drive home after a lovely day shopping with a great friend, the conversation turned to food. (As every conversation does with me, I think.)

And she said the magic word, "Meatball." And then it was all I could think about.

So after dropping her off and before I headed to my house, I made a stop at the grocery store to pick up  meatball-making essentials.

Here's the recipe. I didn't really measure anything, so don't take this as gospel. Follow your instincts. And always make a test ball first to check the seasoning. Can't stress that enough!

Mmmmmmeatballs
1 20 oz. package ground turkey
1/3 to 1/2 c Italian-seasoned bread crumbs
1/4 c grated Parmesan cheese
1 egg
1T oregano
1-2 t salt
Pepper

Mix all of the above. Don't put all the bread crumbs in right away. If it feels too "wet", add more bread crumbs. (Again, I didn't measure ... sorry! But when it's back to feeling like normal hamburger and not juicy, you have enough bread crumbs.)

Make one meatball and put it on a baking pan in a 350-degree oven. Let it cook all the way through. You will smell it when it's done. Cooking time will vary with the size of the meatball. 1 to 1.5 inch dia ball might take 8-10 minutes.

Taste the test ball. Adjust salt and seasonings if you need to. Make the rest of the balls and bake them off. If you want to get fancy, flip them over halfway through the cooking time so you don't get one really brown side.

Bathroom Smackdown ... Almost

I walked into a restroom at work this afternoon and saw a woman I'd never seen before.

(There was a time when I recognized everyone in our building, but those days are gone! Makes me feel old.)

She was a big woman. A really big woman. It was hard to tell just how old, but I'd put her over 35, but under 50.

She was washing her hands.

And bent over, leaning on the countertop to do so.

Bent all the way over, leaning on her forearms on the messy, wet counter. As if she was too tired to stand up straight to wash her hands. As if the trip into the bathroom was too exhausting for her to complete it without a rest break at the sink.

And I just wanted to smack her.

I wanted to shake her and yell, "If it's too much for you to stand up at the sink, there's a problem! Stop hurting yourself. Start helping yourself!"

Hmmm. It was a strange reaction. The ferociousness surprised me. Seems like some wounds run deeper than I would be willing to admit.

I wasn't angry with her. I was angry with me ... for being so miserable for so long. And for not starting on this journey earlier.

Plus, I wish I could make her see that it's not as hard as it might appear.

How Do You Manage Stress?

I've said it before and I'll say it again ... the best way for me to manage stress is to get some miles on.

And I proved it out today one more time.

I had a meeting this afternoon that I'd been dreading all week. It had the potential to go horribly wrong ... and making sure it went better than right was important to me for a number of reasons. You know, career important reasons.

When I pried open tired eye lids this morning at 4:30 a.m., all I wanted to do was roll over and catch another hour. Snuggle in and snore for just a little bit longer.

My mind instantly flashed to the meeting I was dreading. In my haze, my brain asked the right question: What's going to serve you better today? The clear head and "bring it on, I'm ready" attitude four or five miles is going to give you or a little extra rest that's going to make you feel groggy and guilty for not hitting the treadmill?

You already know the answer.

Working out IS the reward. It IS the thing that gives you an edge ... and not just physically.

First and foremost, it gives me time for my brain to work through the problem I'm facing. Today, for instance, I got my ducks in a row and settled on the exact wording for my key "talking points."

Secondly, it gives me a clear head so I'm fully awake and ready to attack by the time I get to work. The first hour at my desk is not as productive if I just roll out of bed and drive to the office.

And, most importantly, it gives me this little golden nugget to hold inside my gut that says: I ran. Maybe I ran farther than you. I accomplished something that I'm proud of. In essence, I rock. That confidence is contagious and addicting as it grows inside. Pretty soon you're convinced you can take on anything.

So go do it!

P.S. The good news is the meeting went really well. In fact, I don't think it could have gone better. And once it was over, I crashed. Hard. It's going to be an early night tonight. After a celebratory drink, that is.

Routine, Normal, Boring ...

Newsflash:

I have nothing new to tell you tonight.

I didn't think about what I ate, how I exercised, how my clothes fit or anything of the sort today.

I did eat right, exercise and wore clothes, however.

What this means, I think, is that "new me" might just be turning into "me."

It's weird in a way. It's weird that it's normal. It's routine.

And right now, it's a little boring.

Bye Bye Clementine!

We're nearing the end of clementine season and I'm sad.

At 35 calories per Cutie, they're a fantastic treat. I like them because it takes a while to peel and eat them ... so it slows down the speed at which you can mindlessly consume calories. I like them because they're sturdy ... you can toss a couple in your computer bag or purse and they don't bruise or crush. Plus, they're perfect for packing on a flight.

But mostly, I like them because they're so freaking yummy.

New Dip

Yesterday's Super Bowl party invitation required me to bring a dish to pass. A quick survey of the fridge and pantry showed an abundance of dairy products and some leftover tostadas. Here's what I came up with. It was kind of like the base for Taco Dip, but a little different.

Fiesta Dip
2/3 package light or fat free cream cheese, softened (or 1 whole 8 oz. brick ... I just had leftovers)
1 8 oz. fat free Greek yogurt
1 8 oz. fat free sour cream (or you could do 16 oz. of one or the other ... I just had leftovers)
1 pkg. dry Hidden Valley Fiesta Ranch mix
Red onion, chopped fine
Red pepper, chopped fine

Mix. Eat. I broke up the tostadas to use as chips, but would recommend baked Scoops. Also really good with raw veg ... cauliflower and carrots. I even used it in place of "cheese" on a turkey burger for dinner tonight.

Hot Date, Cold Feet

I had had a hot date this morning. With my sleek, sexy, favorite dude Gary Fisher.

My knees were a little sore after yesterday's six-mile run, so I decided to break out the bike this morning. I wore the same clothes as yesterday, thinking it would be more than enough.

I was wrong.

You generate more wind on a bike. A lot more wind. And even in the sun, sub-40-degrees-Fahrenheit is sort of cold.

You know you haven't worn enough layers when you start seriously searching the ditch for a littered WalMart bag or two that you could wrap around your shoes to keep the breeze out.

More than 90 minutes and 22 miles later, with a whole bunch of snot wiped on my tights, I made it home. My feet were solid blocks of ice.

A warm shower never felt so good. Toe warmers. Must remember toe warmers next time.

Soundtrack of My Run

If you could live inside my head, this is what you'd hear:

Wow, it's nice today. I wore too many layers. Bet I'm going to take this windbreaker off before the end of the driveway.

Yup. Windbreaker off.

On Wisconsin! On Wisconsin! Grand old Badger state! (This is how I pace myself. A fast tempo version means I'm at a 10-minute mile speed.)

Damn wind in my face.

The sun feels so good. But man, I should have left the compression shirt at home. It's too warm.

Oh look, there's Gabe coming out of the Friendly. "Hi!" I say. He has no idea who the crazy woman in the neon green shirt is.

Should I go as far as Mike and Amy's or should I go to Skelly's road? GAFan and Amber are probably going twice as far today. They're so awesome. If they can go that far, I can go to Skelly's road.

That dude washes his cars a lot.

Freaking hill. I hate this hill.

Is that oncoming truck going to get over? Umm, hello! Do you see me? Holy Duck with an F. Does he see me? (Me, waving my arms.) Solid ice on my left. Nowhere to go. For the love of God he's going to hit me! It's a 25 mph zone, jackass! (Me stopping in my tracks in case I have to jump over the ice and snowbank to my left.) WHOOOOSH! (Me, realizing I could reach out and touch the pickup if I wanted to.) "REALLY?!!!" I scream, at the top of my voice.

Well, that was fun. I should have thrown my water bottle at the POS truck. Maybe I should keep a handful of gravel at the ready.

Seriously.

Ah, home is in sight. Done.

P.S. When passing a biker or runner, give them plenty of room. If there's no oncoming traffic, you CAN cross over the center line. You can even slow down. (Gasp!) At 55 mph, you are enormous and fast and powerful. I ALWAYS take to the shoulder when I meet a car. I ALWAYS give a nod and a wave to the drivers that give me room to say thanks. Why can't we all just get along?

Three Pounds More

For the last month, I've weighed about three pounds more than my "normal." I'm fluctuating a little ... up one or two, down the same. I just can't seem to shake them.

To be fair, since returning from Arizona the first week in January, I haven't been running every day. It's been closer to every other day. Or every three days. And when I do run, it's not as far as I was running before Christmas. This dang cold is hanging on and kicking my ass ... so some days the runs are really walks.

I have also worked in strength training on the non-cardio days. And I have been fairly loose with my eating. (In other words, I've replaced the hard pretzels with all the chocolate I can get my hands on. It's a little out of control.)

So the fact that I'm hovering at a steady weight, even if it's three pounds more than normal, is OK. I suspect that it could just be more weight. Or, I could have replaced some fat with some muscle.

But either way is OK. My pants fit just fine.

The number doesn't always tell you everything you need to know.

I Never Ordered My Wedding Photos

We're approaching our 10-year wedding anniversary this spring. I can't quite believe it's been a decade. In fact, it seems like it can't possibly have been that long ... which is a good sign, I hope.

As we're talking about the options for celebration, there's one thing nagging at me. 

I'm not a big fan of my wedding photos. 

So much so, that I never ordered a single print for anyone. Yes, I have the book. But my mom doesn't have a photo. Nor do my in-laws. Nor did my adorable flower girl get a single copy of her being adorable. (And now she's almost 15 ... oy vey.)

Shopping for my dress went like this: 

I went to the bridal store by myself. Not because I didn't want my mom and sister to go, but because I didn't want to go myself. I assumed it would be a horrible ordeal and that I wasn't going to enjoy it. I tried on four or five gowns, I picked the least offensive of them all. I kept it as short and painless as possible. Truth is, while the beading was pretty, the dress didn't really fit right. It was sleeveless and probably shouldn't have been. It was "fine," but not the "amazing" we all sort of secretly wish for.

(I did take my mom, sister and new step-daughter back for the fitting and we chose bridesmaid gowns that day ... just so you know I'm not a total Debbie Downer.)

And don't get me wrong. I loved my wedding. I loved my reception. I love my husband. It was a great day and it's been a great ride, no matter how big or small I was and am.

However, part of me wishes it had gone down a little differently. I know I can't change how I looked then, but I still wish I had woken up a little sooner. 

Part of me really wants to go buy a knockout dress and  have new photos taken. 

Sounds like an idea for the 10-year celebration might be shaping up ...

Is It Just Me?

I have never looked at a can of spray whip cream and dreamed of the nitrous oxide inside.

Dear Demi,

Eat the Reddi-Whip. You look like you could use a few extra calories.

Love,
Miss Daisy