Secret Weapons

Ever have one of those days where you just want to eat? And you want to eat something besides a raw vegetable?

Yeah. Me too. 

That's when I look for foods that 1) take a long time to actually eat, 2) don't match with much of anything so it's hard to eat something AFTER eating them and 3) give me volume or chewing or fullness so that I feel like I have actually consumed a great deal more than I have. 

Things like:

• Bread and Butter Pickles: Delicious, sweet, sour, crunchy ... and nothing really "goes with" them. So once you eat them, you're done. And if you eat a lot of them, you feel sort of sick to your stomach, so you don't eat more. 
• Tootsie Roll Mini Midgees: (The teeny ones you get in a mix bag of Halloween candy ... skinnier than the normal size ones.) You have to unwrap them. And they take a long time to chew. And eating three or four of the little ones makes you feel like you're eating a lot, but you're eating fewer calories than if you'd eaten the regular size ones. 130 calories for 12 pieces.
• Sugar-Free Mint Gum: I like Mentos. Mint gum makes my mouth feel clean and prevents me from stuffing something else in it. And I get to CHEW.
• Ginger Chews/Swedish Fish/JuJuBees: See CHEW above. Again, it just takes a while to consume these and then pick the remnants out of your teeth. Sure, they are totally empty calories. But if you buy them in the single serving packs, you can control portion a bit better. 
• Light Chocolate Soy Milk: At 80 or 90 calories per glass, this feels totally decadent. Smooth, rich, creamy ... chocolaty! Sometimes I save this and consume it like dessert. And at least you're getting some nutrition for your money. Plus, it makes me feel full for a while. The wonders of protein. 
• Mini Multi-Grain Rice Cakes: Made by Quaker, they come in Wild Blueberry and Blackberry Pomegranate flavors. Sweet enough to feel like a treat, but it arrives with some value. (Not much, let's be clear. This is processed crap with preservatives.) It delivers good crunch and if you screw up and eat the whole bag, it's better than a whole bag of potato chips. 

Tonight I have already eaten pickles and am now chewing gum. Trying desperately to not pay attention to the chocolate soy milk song playing in my head right now ...

Chicken Tomatillo Chili

Another example of a recipe that's not really a recipe. Measurements are merely suggestions.

Chicken Tomatillo Chili
(This makes a crockpot full.) 

6 chicken breast halves, thawed (one big package or two small packages)
Fajita seasoning
3 or 4 ribs of celery, chopped
1 large onion, chopped
1 large jalapeno, finely diced
1 Tb diced garlic
1/2 pound tomatillos (7 or 8 medium size tomatillos)
3 cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
1 box chicken broth
Three squirts tubed cilantro
Cumin, fajita seasoning, Tajin seasoning, fresh squeezed lime juice, Siracha hot sauce
Tortilla chips, crumbled queso fresco, and any other chili toppings you like

Spray a baking dish with olive oil. Season both sides of chicken breasts with fajita seasoning and bake off in 350-degree oven. Let cool and cube or shred. In big skillet with olive oil, sautee celery, onion, jalapenos until they start to soften and get translucent. Add garlic and tomatillos and cook until tender. Add chicken, beans and broth. Add cilantro, spices and hot sauce until it tastes good to you.

Serve with crushed up chips, cheese and other chili fixin's. It's better the second day.

Three Random, Unrelated Things

1. Roundy's brand Greek yogurt is really good. In fact, I might prefer it over Oikos.
2. I tried out my new bike on Friday and it was cool!
3. There should be a rule that goes something like this: "When I am taking off my pants in the YMCA locker room, you, Dear Cleaning Lady, should not strike up a conversation with me." I can tell you are very cheerful and probaby very friendly. And should we meet in the produce department or run into each other at the bank, I might like to make small talk. (OK, we both know that's a lie. I don't like to make small talk with anyone, ever ... no reflection on you.) But since I don't know you, I'm really not comfortable chatting with you as I peel off my underthings and get into my swimming suit.

How Do You Know When You're Tired?

There are days I feel as if I can run forever. Or bike. Or swim. Or whatever.

And then there are days every tenth of a mile is a struggle. Every breath seems so hard. Every muscle screams.

What is the difference?

Sure, what you eat and how you sleep the day/days before matter. But sometimes it seems like all things are equal and this particular workout is harder somehow.

Getting "tired" makes you want to stop. Slow down. Turn around and go home. Even when you know you shouldn't.

When it happens to me, these are my defensive moves:

1. Immediately start talking myself OUT of the fact that I'm tired. "You ate well, you slept well, you are completely capable of this distance. Knock it off, sabotaging brain. Keep moving."
2. Start to dissect what exactly is making me feel "tired" in the first place. I check my breathing ... am I REALLY gasping or do I only think I am? (More often than not, I just think I am.) How do my lungs feel ... are they REALLY burning? (Usually they are not.) I think about my knees, hips and quads ... do they REALLY feel wobbly or just a little tight? (Normally, they're just fine.) My last check is my gut or core. If I'm really pushing it, I notice it here. And unless I'm on the verge of puking, I know it's all OK.
3. Force myself to relax. This means starting at the top of my head and working to the tips of my toes, consciously telling each and every muscle group to release whatever tight tension they're holding.
4. Tuck my chin in. I'm not sure why this works for me. When I get feeling out of breath on a run or swim, I notice that my chin is frequently jutting out ... like I'm leaning forward too much. It's a "stressful" body posture position in that it makes my chest tighten up and seems to restrict my airway. (Try it ... just your chin out and clench your teeth, then try to take a deep breath.) When I tuck my chin back into my body, I force a more relaxed position and the breathing gets easier.
5. Concentrate on one foot in front of the other. Pick a new marker (a telephone pole in the not-so-far distance or a lap number somewhere between the one you're on and the one that's your goal) and make that your short-term goal. When you get there, find another one. 

And by the time I have thought all the way through those steps, I'm a mile farther along the road than I thought I could be. THAT positive affirmation proves the point that I am strong enough to keep going.

Your brain will sink you if you let it. Learn to listen to what your body FEELS, not what your brain says your body is doing.

There is a difference.

Holy Holiday Hysteria

It's here. 

The "Every-Social-Gathering-(of Which There Will Be Many)-Involves-Food" time of year. 

It's basically a pork-fest from now until Baby New Year arrives. Sigh. How did it get here so quickly? 

I have a week of vacation planned before Thanksgiving. And we all know that turkey day is the start of the water slide that flies through Christmas, college football bowl parties and the Super Bowl. 

It started at my house last night with a work team bonfire and Hallo-Weenie pigs in blankets. And pumpkin bread. And witches brooms made out of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and pretzel sticks. 

The best offense is a good defense, they say, so I'm spending some time in my head trying to get ready for the season. I need to wrap my head around my schedule and the events in it. I need to recommit to my workout schedule and find ways to ramp it up when appropriate. I need to find the determination inside to eat properly even when the temptations over-floweth. 

Take control of you. Pounds don't happen by accident. But sometimes they happen by apathy. 

Sweet Potatoes 1 : Beets 0

Part of learning to eat better, for me, was trying different foods. When we cut out much of the boxed/pre-packaged/artificial-colors-and-sweetener stuff, our overall selection of food got smaller. Since I am someone who can't eat the same things day after day, I got bored quickly. I knew I needed to add some new foods to my repertoire to keep my taste buds interested.

The solution? Eating "seasonally." It helps keep costs down, because produce is cheapest in season, down and it provides variety in your menu.

Now that fall is officially here, I've been craving those flavors and textures.

Right now, I'm happy with butternut squash for soup, spaghetti squash to be used in place of pasta or stir-fried with other veg, sweet potatoes for oven-baked fries or simple roasters. These are foods I never ate prior to this little adventure.

I'm still buying spinach, but opting to saute it or toss it in soups and stews instead of eating it cold in a salad. And while I nosh on raw cauliflower and broccoli all summer long, now I want it steamed and simply seasoned with a little butter, salt and pepper. Or, maybe with a dusting of Parmesan.

But beets?

I've tried. I have really tried. From a can, on a salad, roasted in a little olive oil. And try as I might, I can't say I like them.

I can eat them. (Whereas I cannot eat a banana to save my soul. Instant gag reflex. Bleah!) And I do sometimes just because I know they're good for me.

But that's as far as I'll go.

Always Have a Plan (And a Plan B)

I have a rough idea of what my workout schedule is like by week. It varies with the season, injuries, training for a specific event. But I try to have a plan for "right now" so that I have something to hold myself to, if that makes sense.

Right now it looks like this:

Saturday and Sunday: Long road runs, preferably outdoors. 5 miles minimum. I do these as early in the morning as I can, so they don't interfere with my actual weekend.
Monday: Rest day. Rest day means REST day. It's good for my body and my brain. I like it on Monday because sleeping in a little on a Monday morning feels decadent.
Tuesday/Thursday: Run 3-4 miles indoors in the morning. Swim 1 mile after work.
Wednesday: Run 4 miles. Strength workout.
Friday: Run or swim or walk or bike or something. Strength workout.

I'm trying to work in at least three days of hip exercises.

What happens on which day can shift around a little, depending on my schedule. Last week, I swam Thursday and Friday, for instance. And today I didn't make it to the pool as planned due to an appointment that ran longer than I thought it would. So I'm moving to Plan B ... swimming on Wednesday and Thursday instead.

For me, making sure I get something done in the morning is critical ... because I never know what work will throw my way later in the day. If I get up and get it done early, I don't have to worry about something getting in the way.

I'm also excited to have my bike and trainer set up, because it gives me another alternative for aerobic activity when it's early/dark or when the weather outside is crappy.

What's your schedule?

Just a Little Bit More ... Or Less

"My new goal," she said, "is to run one minute farther today than I did yesterday. Then add a minute every day."

I love this idea. I love this idea so much I can't even tell you how much I love it.

She has been doing interval running. She has been battling some injuries. She has been trying to get over the psychological hurdle of being "able" to run X number of miles. She was stuck. She was not making the progress she wanted to make.

But she decided to take a new approach.

Just add one minute today. She knows she can keep going for one minute more. What's one little, tiny, short minute?

This concept is so clean and understandable. And it works for eating (one side of the equation) and exercise (the other side).

Go one minute more. Eat one thing less.

I think much of the success in any weight loss story is making small changes that are sustainable. I also think one of the biggest reasons for weight loss failure is trying to make too many big changes that are NOT sustainable.

I've told you before that in my adult life, I had really, truly, honestly tried to lose weight one other time before this one. That first time, I chose to exercise like a lunatic. Two hours per day minimum. The problem was I didn't really learn to eat properly. And when I stopped exercising, because it was simply unsustainable long-term, I put the weight back on.

This time, I chose a more balanced effort. I started making small changes to my diet. I started walking. Then walking faster. Then walking farther. I threw out all of the processed, prepackaged, full-of-chemicals crap in my pantry. I started running. Then running faster. Then running farther. Then I hopped on my bike. Rode faster. Rode farther. And then I started swimming.

And so on, and so on, and so on.

You get the idea.

Find something you CAN do instead of thinking of the 100 things you can't do ... or don't want to do.

Then do it. A little bit at a time. Before you know it, those little bits will add up to a whole bunch.

Survivor Mode

Yesterday was a milestone run for me. At 6.39 miles, it was my longest run since "the hip incident" and I did it in an hour.

Now, I am not going to get in Guinness for a pace like that, but it's fast for me right now. I'd like to say I set out to run fast, but the truth is it was COLD and I needed to keep moving to stay warm.

I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. Proud of myself. Stronger.

When my husband climbed into bed last night and pushed on my good hip (Not for the reasons you're thinking, perverts! To move my already half-asleep butt out of his "half" ...), I yelped.

"Do that again!" I demanded.

He started poking at my bursa-area. (LOL. That sounds sort of dirty, too, doesn't it?)

Hell's bells. It was sore. So I flipped over and gave yet another order. (This is where you make a joke in your head about how bossy I am in bed.)

"Poke on this side!"

He did. Sure enough, it hurt worse on the bad hip.

I hadn't noticed it during the day. But there it was.

I decided to run again this morning. Only 5 miles. Slowly. And right now I'm all kinds of stiff and sore everywhere.

Curses!

Last weekend, my long runs were on my treadmill. Yes, the distance was a bit farther yesterday. But I think the main difference was running on the pavement vs. a cushier, shock-absorbing belt.

I have never noticed this before. Probably because I broke up with my treadmill to run outdoors last fall and never "mixed" the two during half marathon training. Me and the road were in an exclusive relationship, if you will.

I'm increasing my Advil and my hip strengthening exercises. I'm vowing to only run hard two days in a row max, and if it's two long days, one must be indoors ... at least until I can get this figured out.

Outwit. Outplay. Outlast.

Stalking Update

Turns out, my fears were unfounded.

I went to swim Friday after work and I checked at the reception desk for my ID. It was there.

My towel was not.

Eh. A towel is a small price to pay to know some crazy swimmer is probably not stalking me.

(OH! Guess what else I learned? There's a hot tub at the Y. Who knew? No one gave me a tour when I joined, so I didn't know. I might have to drive into town one crisp, cold morning, start my run from the Y and then end it in the hot tub. That sounds nice, right?)

My Road Crew

How many people get their new road bike custom fitted... in their own house, by a Trek expert? Not many, that's for sure. The dude in the green is my adorable hubs. (He's very proud of his gift-giving triumph and now wants to be called Mr. Good Stuff. Feel free to play along if you want to.) The guy on the right is my brother-in-law and personal bike authority. The two of them got my bike adjusted perfectly and then took it and the trainer to my workout room so I can pedal to my heart's content all winter long.

Which is a good thing, since my gift also included those fancy clip shoes/pedals and I need to learn how to use them. I think it's wise to figure out how to do this when the bike -- and therefore me -- can't fall over.

Look at Ms. Lexa in her new home:

(One of these days, I'm going to use my real camera and not my phone so the quality of these photos is a bit better. For reference, the walls in this room are really sort of an apple green, bright, but not obnoxious. And that beautiful bike is blue and white. Jim is still working on getting the doors hung and the trim up ... so there's nothing on the walls ... but I plunked that sign down in front of the treadmill JUST FOR YOU!) 

Swimmer, Thief or Stalker?

I was back in the pool today after a two-week, schedule-driven hiatus. I had limited time, so my plan was to get 2/3 of a mile in, using as close to 30 minutes as possible.

When I got to the pool, there was already someone in there. A young man, swimming in a very enthusiastic, but discombobulated way.

He'd go like hell for a couple of laps, then stop and catch his breath for a while, then go like hell again. Sometimes it was freestyle, sometimes it was a weird mostly underwater version of the breaststroke.

Me? I was in my normal routine. The first two lengths are fast, with very few breaths taken, because I'm not tired yet. On the next four lengths, I breathe with every other pull of my right arm. The next four, I am breathing on every pull of my right arm ... because I'm tired and gasping for air. With the first 10 lengths complete, I settle into a new pattern. Breathing every second pull on the way down and breathing on every pull on the way back. After about 30 total lengths, I get into a rhythm where I can stop breathing on every right pull, switching back to every other. I usually keep that up until whatever is my big finish. If I'm doing 100 lengths, the big finish is the final 20, for instance. And I go as fast and as hard as I can for as long as I can.

It's not scientific. I didn't research anything. It's just what I do. I change it up when it becomes "doable." I make it a little harder somehow.

At a turnaround near lap 30, I heard weird swimmer dude talking to me. So I stopped and stood up.

"I'm new to swimming. What is the right way to breathe?" he asked.

"I have no idea," I replied. "I am no expert. Right now I'm breathing every other stroke one way and every stroke the other way. I just try to stay consistent."

"Well, it sure looks like you know what you're doing," he said.

Ha! I chose to bask in the glow of this almost compliment, knowing full well I'm always the slowest  one in the pool.

We both started swimming again.

The pool filled up. A rainy day might cause that? And as the lanes got crowded, I noticed that he got out of the pool. Shortly afterward, I, too, finished up my laps and climbed out.

And ... my towel was gone. Along with my YMCA photo ID. Weird swimmer dude must have grabbed it accidentally. I had to borrow a towel from the lifeguards and get them to let me back in the locker room.

All I can think about? Weird swimmer dude now knows my name. And he has my photo. (And my crappy blue towel ... which I'm not so worried about.)

This freaks me out a little. I'm thoroughly convinced he's going to stalk me and kill me because he's pissed off that I can swim faster than him.

That's irrational, right?

Cuppins!

My treat day today at work. I'm lucky in that most of the people I work with don't mind a little healthy. In fact, I think they prefer the not-so-terrible-for-you stuff.

So in an effort to make something yummy but not cellulite producing, I borrowed a recipe from the Hungry Girl blog with a few modifications.

I call them Cuppins ... a cross between a cupcake and a muffin. The texture is a bit more dense than a true cupcake. Since I'm a fan of dense and moist when it comes to baked goods, it works for me.

*** Please also note that Cuppin is a combination of the words Cupcake and Muffin. Like Bennifer or Brangelina. The alternative, Muffcake, is decidedly less appetizing.***

Spice Cuppins
1 box spice cake mix
1 can puree pumpkin (NOT pumpkin pie mix)
Big handful of chopped pecans
Big handful of coconut
(Raisins would be good, too, but I didn't put any in)
1 container ready-made cream cheese frosting

Mix pumpkin with cake mix. Batter will be thick. Toss in pecans and coconut. Scoop into lined tins. I do NOT fill them all the way to the top. Remember, we're still trying to save calories here. Bake according to box instructions. Let cool completely. Frost.  (You could make your own cream cheese frosting with a mixture of low-fat/fat-free cream cheese, but, really ... why? There's no law that says you have to glop frosting on there ... just don't use as much. I frosted 20 cupcakes with a half of a tub.)

They also taste pretty good with Nutella frosting. I sampled one last night.

Ride On!

I like to think that my journey to healthier is sort of a solo effort. I've never been a joiner and it's no accident that running and working out in my basement are my exercises of choice.

I don't consider myself outgoing, nor cheerful, nor particularly friendly. So group exercise has always been something I've stayed away from. I like to depend on me. I like to be the one in control. I like to prove to myself I can do it.

But my more lonely approach has disadvantages. Without a group, or a workout buddy, I miss out on the support they provide. The camaraderie. The motivation. The "I'll-do-it-for-you-and-you'll-hold-me-to-it" attitude.

My treadmill and my shoes don't really give me that cosmic hug.

I know and believe in the importance of that support. In my opinion, it's vital to the long-term success of the changes we have to make.

So where do I find it?

I find it in this blog. I find it in you guys. And I'm lucky enough to find it in sort of unlikely place.

My husband.

Now, he doesn't run with me. He's never been to the YMCA one time to swim or lift weights (though I'm paying for him to go, mind you ... and it only bothers me a little). He very rarely agrees to a 3-mile walk.

But he supports and encourages with the best of them. He understands how important this is to me and he helps me make it a priority. He gets up early and stands in the rain on race day. He listens to me bitch about my injuries and scheduling conflicts. He patiently waits for me to wake up, run, shower and get ready on weekend mornings, when he'd much rather already be at breakfast or knocking off errands.

He puts the clip back on the chip bag to keep me from eating more of them, for goodness sake.

And yesterday he surprised me with a road bike. Because I entered ONE bike event this summer and mildly complained that my bike wasn't as fast or fancy as others.

If you don't have this support system, find it. It's critical to your success. Use the people who read this blog as your sounding board. Use me ... I'm happy to help. Trust someone with your fears and your struggles and your triumphs. It matters. It will make your journey easier. And trust me, I know it's not always easy to bare your soul about something that hurts so much.

Believe in yourself first. And then let someone else believe in you, too.

I'd let you borrow my set-up, but I want to keep him all to myself.

Hip Finale

Quick, knock on something wooden.

OK, with that preventative action complete, I'm going to let you know that I have closed what will forever be known as the "The Hip That Ate My Summer" chapter.

At six weeks out from the cortisone shot, I had my final follow-up appointment last Friday. Though it took a couple of weeks for the pain to stop being noticeable, I have been pain-free for the better part of three or four weeks.

I have also been careful about my workout schedule. I'm running a maximum of three days in a row. And when I do run three days in a row, they are not three hard days ... two longer distances and one short.

As such, my sports med doc gave me my final "clearance" with a stern reminder.

"Running itself will NOT make the muscles you need to run strong. You have to continue to do the therapy to make those hip muscles strong."

So I'm doing my clamshells and leg lifts three times a week, too. And trying to remember to shuffle around the house with that big rubberband on my ankles. Prevention is the name of the game, here.

God bless cortisone!

It's Easier to Keep Going

Determined to make the most of this wet, dreary weekend, I hit my treadmill again this morning with another 5-mile run/1-mile walk goal. It was a mile more than I did last week and I was also committed to turning up the speed and incline just a bit.

I had a good night's sleep under my belt, a reasonably healthy eating day ... all systems were go.

By mile marker 3.5ish, I started to feel the burn. I wasn't sure I could get to the end. I let my head get in the way and I slowed the pace down for .15 miles at a slow walk around 3.85 miles.

And then I decided to kick it in the rear and finish what I set out to do.

But boy ... firing back up is hard. It's easier, I think, to just keep going.

Starting over, with good eating, a regular exercise schedule, a solid sleep routine is harder than if you just keep going in the first place.

Your body is capable. Your mind will try to talk you out of it. Trust me, gaining five pounds and then having to lose it again is harder than just keeping it off.

Just keep going. Find the routine, the schedule, the zone and keep going.

Bloat, Part 2

I lost 3.8 pounds between yesterday and today!

OK, we both know that didn't really happen. But that's what the scale said. My ring is still tighter than normal, but after a solid 8 hours of good sleep, a 5-mile run, plus a 1-mile walk, a digestive tract back in standard operating mode and lots of water, things are looking up.

The point of this is you can't always trust the number on the scale. You fluctuate a lot depending on circumstances ... what you eat, how you sleep, if you're working out ... and yes, if you're pooping regularly. So don't get freaked out. Stick to the plan and do what you know is right.

Do the right things often enough and good things happen.

And as GAF so wisely advised, drink a lot of water. It keeps everything a bit more balanced.

(Sorry for the poop comment. I know it's gross. But it's true. Your body is a system with intakes and waste removal and the whole thing has to be working for you to be working.)

Bloat

After a long week of travel, a lingering cold and not enough sleep, I intended to make today "normal." Normal wake-up time, normal workout, normal eating. 

That didn't happen. 

I severely overslept. No time for a workout. No milk, no fruit in the house. I quickly showered and got ready, stopping to apply perfume and jewelry on the way out of my room.

And I could hardly get my wedding ring on. It literally took all I had to push, twist, jam that thing on my finger. It hurt. 

How weird, considering my wedding ring is normally quite a bit too big ... as in I'm afraid it will slide off my finger big. It's my "new" wedding ring and I have been toying with the idea of getting it sized for about 9 months because I am truly worried it will fall off one day. 

Surprised, I hopped on the scale and oh my gravy!

I saw a number that was the highest I've seen in more than a year. 

I'm bloated. Really bloated. After a week in the desert, working out consistently, walking a lot, and eating pretty OK, this surprised me. 

When I was bigger, I never experienced bloat. Water weight. Monthly fluctuation. Mostly, probably, because I didn't weigh myself and all of my clothes were loose. 

I'm still not quite sure what this is all about. My ring is still tight tonight, but better. 

I'm going to bed early tonight. And I'm going to run tomorrow. I'll keep you posted. 

Take That, Micky D

My flight left Vegas yesterday at 6:05 p.m. local time, putting me in Milwaukee at 11:35 p.m. After a stop to pick up luggage, a trip through the parking garage and a long drive home, I pulled into my driveway around 1:15 a.m.

I tried to eat a dinner before I left LV, and ended up with Auntie Anne's with light cream cheese. Not exactly healthy. I munched on one of my mini ziploc bag stashes of raisins/nuts/pita chips on the flight. But my stomach still started to rumble just as I was pulling onto the 894 bypass, heading toward Mukwanago. 

Uh oh. 

There are three 24-hour McDonald's drive thrus between here and there. And Old Me would have pulled in for a Double Cheeseburger Meal Deal in Delavan to get some grease, salt and caffeine in an effort to curb the hunger, stay awake and go to bed with a full belly. 

New Me had packed an apple. 

Old Me still WANTED the Micky D's. But New Me sat on her and held her down as we drove past. 

The Only Good Thing About Vegas

As mentioned previously, I'm not a big fan of Vegas. The noise. The crowds. The humanity. The dirt. The germs. The smoke. The bustle. The fakeness. The abundance of plastic surgery. The women pictured in the cards they hand out on the street. The over-the-top-ness. The $18 sandwich.

Mostly, the noise.

It all gets to me.

But the one thing I like about Vegas? You walk.

You walk everywhere. You walk a long ways and you don't notice it because there's usually so much to distract you. And you know what extra walking means?

Yup. A scoop of dark chocolate gelato and one of pistachio  I ran every morning. I walked every night. And that means guilt-free enjoyment of a sugar cone of deliciousness.

Yum!

Flying Mexicanos, Crouching Cougar

(OK, this post should really be a part of the No Limits series, but I couldn't resist the title above.)

I'm in Vegas, at a show, and that's the reason for no new posts in the past two days. Sorry. Between the very early a.m. flight, the time change and, well, working, I haven't gotten to CC until now. Sorry.

The bad news? I'm staying at the not-remotely-luxurious Hooters because the nicer Tropicana, HQ for the show, was sold out. The good news? No one but me is in the fitness center at 5 a.m., oddly enough. Not a single Hooter girl to be found.

Last night, we headed down the strip for our quota of people watching. I'm not a fan of Vegas, but truly, this is the World Cup/Olympics/World Series/SuperBowl/National Spelling Bee for that particular sport. Our jaunt produced three tour groups of Japanese people wearing surgical masks and looking up at the skyline, dozens of inappropriately dressed "ladies," and a very skinny older Italian man in very skinny red pants and red Hugo Boss sweatshirt with a Beatles haircut.

During the trek, we also stumbled upon a street dance crew. You know the kind ... one bad microphone, a set of speakers, some heavy bass hip hop music and a few buckets to pass around for tips. They called themselves 6 Mexicans and 1 Black Guy and had a nice little crowd participation schtick. I found myself swinging my hips as they busted out some remarkable spinning, flipping and hopping around.

Time for the grand finale, and, sure enough, yours truly gets plucked from the crowd, along with a sweet little girl named Jasmine, a Latina lady and a young British gent. They line us up Bunny Hop style and tell us to dance. We do.

I'm last in line and there's a dude behind me grinding ... I'm afraid to turn around to see what that's all about.

After collecting cash from the crowd (and from those of us on display), the fun begins. We're all told to stand shoulder to shoulder. Check. Then they tell us all to crouch down. Umm, yeah. My knees don't crouch, but I give 'er all I got. "Put your head down!" They scream. I try, but I'm having trouble crouching. "Put your head down!"

I do.

And like a Russian gymnast, one of the dudes flips up and over the lot of us.

The crowd applauds.

I get to stand up.

And only then does it register in my brain.

When the young guy on the mike was shaking the crowd down for donations, and directed his attention to me and my $20 bill, he said,

"Something something something Cougar something something something."

 I think I'm supposed to take offense to that. Oddly, I don't. Old Me would never have been called a Cougar.

Never Say Die

I may be down, but not out. 

Determined to not let the cold win, I hit my treadmill this morning. It wasn't pretty. 

Not pretty at all. 

But I pounded out 5.5 miles of mixed walking and running, even slamming two quarter-mile sprints at 7 mph (or a 8.57 minute mile), mostly just to see if I could beat this virus out of me. 

And then I ate a bar hamburger and fries for lunch. 

Oh well. 

The Road to Hell ...

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

I had every intention of working out this morning. But, yeah, that didn't happen. I opted for more sleep, trying very hard to listen to what my body needs with the damn cold.

Unfortunately, it's also craving food. Lots of food. I'm also giving into that impulse for today. And, hopefully today only.

I Couldn't Outrun It

The first cold of the season has officially landed.

I woke up Tuesday with a little tickle in my throat. Decided get four miles in before work to punch it in the head. Then I swam a mile after work to drive my point home.

I woke up Wednesday with the same tickle and a little sniffle. "You will not win," I said. And I ran three miles on my treadmill in the early a.m. dark, making sure it knew I was serious. To make sure it understood me loudly and clearly, I swam a mile again after work, pushing myself to do more "faster pace" laps.

Take that, cold, I thought smugly. I have to travel again next week and have a busy weekend ahead. There is no time for you. You are not wanted. I believe I have proven that I am stronger, tougher and meaner than you.

I'm going to try going to bed early tonight in an attempt to lure it into a false sense of security ... before I run the crap out of it tomorrow.

I'll Save You the Trouble

Think of this as a public service announcement.

Don't try these.  

Nothing good can happen if you do. They're delicious. You'll enjoy them, get addicted and find a new not-so-good-for-you potential obsession. 

They are chocolate/candy coated sunflower seeds. (Seeds are good for you, right?) They taste like you'd expect a chocolate/candy coated sunflower seed to taste, but it's the texture that I adore. It's sort of like Rice Krispies wrapped in nutty goodness. 

Because they are teeny tiny, you can make them last a while by eating just one at a time. 

Don't say I didn't warn you. 

More Words of Advice

Thinking back on Herr Moore's "just start" advice, I've been pondering other words I live by. All have helped me in my weight loss journey and I'm sharing them with you in hopes that they might be beneficial.

1. It only gets one color of green. This is closely related to, "Shit or get off the pot." Both come courtesy of my dad. What do they mean to me in this get healthy process? They translate to "Now is the time." If you're waiting for a perfect time, it's not going to happen. If you want work to be less busy, or the kids' schedules to be less full, or your significant other to be more helpful around the house, or the weather to be warmer, or the dog to walk on a leash with more skill ... or whatever ... you'll wait forever. The green light is on. Go.

2. Nothing good ever happens when your head is higher than your ass. This beauty comes from a former co-worker who spent college summers working at Great America as a safety inspector for the long-gone Turn of the Century and Tidal Wave roller coasters, among others. This is probably the reason I haven't tried real yoga, why I flunked out of step aerobics back in the day and why I can't do a flip turn in the pool.

3. Hesitation will get you killed. This gem, again, comes from my dad. He used it in reference to learning to drive. As in, if you start to pull out in front of someone, get it done. Having second thoughts will confuse the other driver and land both of you in the emergency room after a dance with the Jaws of Life ... if you're lucky. Hesitate on getting control of your health and you will also be sorry. Every day you spend miserable because you're carrying too much weight and too many rotten emotional baggage around is a wasted day. You only get one ride in this life and it's too freaking short to spend one moment of it unhappy ... or dead ... on the inside.

4. Never waste a bad mood. I first heard this as a "work lesson" for those that manage people. I know it sounds kind of mean, but I have found it to be liberating and productive. The point was that there are days that just don't go well. And as long as you're pissed off anyway, you might as well use that mood to to tackle a few of the things/processes/people that you've been pushing aside because you're waiting for a good time to handle it or a good way to say it. But it works for exercise, too. Wake up feeling ornery? Beat it out on the treadmill. Have a rough day at work? Hit the weights. Irritated at everything? Run a few miles. When you're tired, it all seems better.

5. I before E, except after C, or as in AY, as in neighbor and weigh. Weird. What does this have to do with being healthier? It just proves that there's no such thing as an all or nothing rule. This is your life. You write the playbook. Nothing is all good, or all bad. No one is all right or all wrong. Anyone on the face of the planet that sells you a magic diet pill/exercise routine/food supplement/surgery and uses the words ALL, ALWAYS, EVERYTHING, NEVER, NONE, NOTHING, FOREVER are feeding you a line of crap. You know you weigh too much because you don't eat properly and you don't move enough. You know to lose weight, you have to take in less than you work off. It's possible that you have a one-in-a-million metabolism issue, but it's unlikely. Find YOUR way.

Butternut Weird, But Good

I roasted a butternut squash yesterday with plans of turning it into soup.

But then I didn't want to drag out my food processor and I don't own an immersion blender.

So I got creative instead.

Butternut Yum
1 butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cubed
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Cumin
Sliced onion
Feta cheese
Optional: candied walnuts or butter toffee almonds?

Toss squash in olive oil, salt, pepper and cumin. Roast in oven on cookie sheet at 375 degrees until fork tender, a little brown on the bottom. You'll smell it when it's ready. I did this on Sunday afternoon, then finished it on Monday night.

Heat a saute pan with some olive oil. Toss in the sliced onions. Add a little salt and pepper. Let the onions get soft and translucent. Throw in the squash and let it heat through. Just before you are ready to serve, put a little feta in.

I didn't actually have candied walnuts, but I think the sweetness and crunch would be the perfect sprinkle on top of this yumminess.