Fast Food, On Purpose

Today, I ate at Arby's for lunch.

On purpose.

I do it every year on/about Dec. 27 to celebrate my dad's birthday. Jim and I go and clink our roast beef sandwiches in a toast to the memory of The Rock.

You see, Arby's was his favorite. He loved him a Beef 'n Cheddar like nobody's business.

Good for my waistline? Not so much. Good for my soul? Yes.

Because of Jim's dad's funeral yesterday, we didn't get there on the 27th, which is always the goal. We assumed, however, given the circumstances, we'd be forgiven for showing up one day late.

It was delicious.

Something tells me on Junior's birthday in February, we will celebrate with a shot of Canadian Club or a pork chop. I'm good with either.

Or both.

The Best Kind of Full

In my last post, I was planning how to celebrate the Lean in 13 program being over. I was looking forward to eating a bit more normally again, a bit less restricted. I was getting tired of being hungry and I wanted to just feel "full" again.

My plans went out the window.

This past week has been a rough one. My larger-than-life father-in-law passed away early Monday morning, after 89 extraordinary, adventure-filled years on this earth. Hospice had told us a week prior that we were in the final stretch and that meant all schedules, plans, intentions, and any sense of "normal" were tossed into the breeze as we did our best to help him make his final journey home.

Good eating? Only if you call pizza, Christmas cookies and thrown-together-meals-on-the-fly good. Normal exercise schedule? Not a top priority. Sleep? Umm, no, even if it wasn't my turn on the night shift. The stress of the situation didn't allow for real rest.

And once we had said our goodbyes, there was still more to do. Making arrangements, getting things ready for the funeral, lots of tears, more fitful sleep, trying to make sure everyone is OK. Again, the Christmas cookies and snacks were convenient, but  not fulfilling. I found myself eating ... a lot ... and never getting the satisfaction I had been dreaming of when my stomach was growling during Lean in 13.

Of course, you and I both know what the problem was. I wasn't going to find what I was looking for in a bag of potato chips.

As I sat in church on Christmas Eve, I finally understood what it means to be truly full.

Full of the love that sustains me. My family now fills an entire pew and as the people I love most in the world, they fill my heart with support, acceptance and strength. Those things provide the foundation I need to withstand any storm.

Full of the spirit that guides me. My daughter picks on me every time we're in church because I always cry. My home church is such a wonderful place. It's the one place I feel truly connected to me ... the real me ... and it fills me with warmth and golden light. Sounds corny, maybe, but it's true.

Full of the hope that encourages me. The world can be a not-so-nice place. But when I'm surrounded by people who believe in a greater good, people who acknowledge their blessings and share their joy, I can't help but trust that there is more good to come.

Full of the peace that settles me. Yes, this is a very sad time for my husband and our family. We are going to miss a great man terribly. Life will never be the same. But I am reminded how lucky we were to love him and be loved by him. As I sit in that pew, I know deep down in my heart that we will all be OK because that is the promise that has been made to us.

You can't get that kind of full with gingerbread men.

What I'm Going to Eat Tomorrow

I'm starting to fantasize about what I'm going to eat tomorrow.

After 13 days in food exile, the thought of cramming anything I want in my pie hole is intoxicating.

Here's what I want:

• Half of the box of chocolates that are under the tree
• A giant gingerbread man
• Popcorn
• Brie and havarti on crackers
• Peanut butter on a toasted Sandwich Thin
• A 6-pack of Cherry Coke Zero ... with a shot or two of Southern Comfort thrown in for a nightcap

Not yet sure if I'll actually eat all of that. Maybe it would be smarter to have one thing a day?

I'm happy to say I truly followed the Lean in 13 rules almost to the letter. Yesterday, my timing was off because our schedule had to be adjusted for reasons more important than my goofy eating reset. And today, I started off kilter for the very same reason.

But for 95% of the time, I can say with certainty that I gave it my best effort and I am glad I did. I proved to myself that I can put myself and my health first and I can right the ship when it goes off course.

I also proved that I feel good when I eat clean and that I can lose weight by doing so. Good lessons.

It was also a good way to force myself to think about food as fuel vs. pleasure. What my body needs vs. what it wants. There is a big difference and I think there may be a post on that coming up. It's a very tough concept for me.

However, it isn't realistic for me to live this way, day in and day out. First of all, it's probably not enough food for a much longer haul. There's also not enough variety for my personal tastes. (Don't expect to see me eating a handful of nuts anytime soon! I'm over it.) And let's be real ... I don't really want to live in a world where there's no chocolate for 13 days.

I do think that some version of this will become a part of my routine, though. The good stuff? It got me off sugar for almost two whole weeks. It took all unhealthy fat out of my diet. It really cut the salt intake. And it put a healthy, balanced curb on the carbs.

The good news is I can take what I love about the Mediterranean Food Pyramid (variety, almost unlimited fresh produce) and combine it with the occasional "restriction" of Lean in 13 and come up with something that works. Live day-to-day on Med, rein in with Lean and then indulge purposefully and thoughtfully ... infrequently.

A 4-Mile Run is a 4-Mile Run, Right?

My "normal" run is 4 miles. I do it a two or three times a week. It's my standard. My ordinary. My ham-and-cheese-on-white-bread workout.

Some days, it's a breeze. Some days I struggle to knock it out. It normally includes a quarter-mile warm up and cool down walk at each end. It normally is at a 5.8-6.0 mph pace. And it normally takes me about 45 minutes, all said and done.

So when I saw a HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) version of my normal run, I thought it would be fun to try because, in the back of my head, I thought it would be easy. The plan said to run for one minute at 50% of your normal exertion, followed by a minute at 70% and another minute at 100%. Repeat this cycle 15 times or for 45 total minutes.

Run at 50% for a third of my normal time? How hard could that be? Sounds not so tough, right?

Ha! Famous last words.

I chose to do the 50% at 5.0 mph, 70% at 5.5 mph and 100% at 6.2 mph.

And the 45 minutes kicked my ass.

I got it done, but not without backing that 6.2 down to a 6.0 for three cycles at the end. And, I was all in when it was over.

I ran the same 4 miles in 45 minutes, and two thirds of it was considerably slower than my normal pace.

Intervals work. Intervals increase cardio efficiency, improve overall speed and increase endurance. They also help you burn more calories in the same amount of time.

I'm going to try and make one run every two weeks an interval one. Try it yourself. Start with a 30-second interval for 10 cycles and see where you're at. Increase interval time and number of cycles as you get stronger.

Learn more here: Interval Tips and Tricks

Food is Not a Stress Reliever

I just typed the words above into the "title" field of this post very purposefully.

I typed it as a way of reminding myself. And now I'm reading it over and over to make it stick in my head. 

It's Day 9 of 13 on this Lean in 13 eating and I'm hungry. I'm sort of super hungry, in fact. I also have some things going on in my personal life that is making the regimentation/scheduling of the plan difficult to execute. 

But I'm determined to stick to it. 

I'm trying to pay attention to the triggers for the desire to bury my head in the giant Tupperware of Christmas cookies. Might as well make this a learning experience, right? 

Here are the conclusions I've come to: 

• I want to eat more when I'm over-tired. Over-tired = out of sorts and that makes me crave chocolate, cheese and crackers like crazy. Plus, I think that when I'm tired, my thinking gets lazy, too, and I just don't make good decisions.  
• I want to eat more when I'm anxious/nervous/sad/scared ... anything that's out of the ordinary. When I'm off kilter, I'm looking for something to make me feel better.
• I want to eat more when I don't get enough/the right exercise in. After working out I feel strong and solid ... it shores up my resolve and just makes me feel good. When I feel good, my thinking is better and my decisions are better.
• I want to eat more when I think about eating more. If I get busy, I just don't obsess as much.
• I will eat more when I don't have a plan ... which includes having the right foods on hand and ready to go. I've got a few little bags of nuts squirreled away in my purse right now just in case. 

Today, I'm over-tired, emotional, didn't get my morning workout in and I'm thinking about eating right now. Not a great way to stay on top of this. But because I have a plan and I know my goal, I will get through it. 

I am stepping back, evaluating and forcing myself to recognize that falling off the plan and eating everything I'm craving will not really make me feel better at this point. Getting it done like I planned will.

Nine days down. Four to go. One holiday happy hour, a few more crazy days/nights with out-of-whack sleep and exercise and the dreaded last-minute shopping still left on the schedule. 

Giddy up!

It Works -- I'm Down 8.5!

News Bulletin!

Eating less, eating right and moving more results in weight loss!

Friday was the mid-point weigh-in/measure-up of the small group we've got working with my friend Peggy. The news was good all the way around.

Everyone lost weight. Everyone lost inches.

You know what that means.

Everyone was happy! Even at 5:30 a.m. in the dark and foggy pre-dawn morning ... which isn't easily achieved in the dead of winter.

I really love this format. There are four of us plus Peggy. We meet once a week to work out together. In the beginning, we all did the same workout. We're now into our individualized plans, created specifically for us and what our bodies need.

Truthfully, I needed the pick-me-up. Because I woke up Friday hungry. As in hungry! It was Day 5 of my 13-day eating reset. The good news is that I survived and am almost through Day 6 at this point, which is practically halfway done, right?

This is all doable. It's nice to have the reminder.

I Spit It Out

I'm on Day 3 of a 13-day lean/clean eating reset.

That means my portions, food choices and eating times are extremely regimented. I've got my measuring cups out, to make sure I'm sticking to the plan. One 4-oz. serving of protein at each meal. A quarter-cup of raw nuts at snack time. One cup of veg on "burn" days to go with the protein and a serving of complex carbs on "fuel" days. (That's 1/2 cup of brown rice, 1 cup of oatmeal, 1/2 cup of beans or 1 sweet potato, if you're keeping score at home.)

The good news is that it's not as hard as I thought it would be. Yet.

The hard part is that it's not entirely a habit yet ... this not nibbling all day long.

Case in point:

Today, I was trying to get an assortment of Christmas goodies together for my daughter to take home ... as in getting it out of MY house! First I piled in some cut-out cookies. Then I added some gingerbread men.

Last, but not least, it was the mint brownies turn. As I was putting the last one in, a chunk of the Andes Candies that was on top fell off. Instinctively, I picked it up off the counter and popped it in my mouth.

The second the chocolate-minty goodness hit my tongue, my brain kicked in and the sirens in my head went off.

Just as quickly as it went it, I spit it out with the force of a Howitzer.

And then I was proud of myself. A commitment is a commitment, right?

Some days it's the small victories that matter. They also eventually add up to the big ones.

Meet My Muffin-Top

(Warning: Some of the content of his post may not be suitable for young readers. Or people who do not want to have an image of me in their head that they cannot erase. Continue at your own risk.) 

You know how it goes. The seasons change. The weather changes. Your wardrobe must change accordingly.

Last week, I dug out a pair of black cords for the first time since last winter. Since I hadn't worn them in a loooooong time, I wasn't entirely sure they'd still fit.

As you know, I weigh more right now than I did 12 months ago. And as I know the pants I wear most often these days are a size 10, while these black  cords were a Kohl's size 6. (Kohl's housebrands are generously sized to make people feel good, I think. This would easily be an 8 -- or even a 10 -- in other stores, IMHO.) I also knew I was going to feel crappy if they didn't fit.

So I slid them on, holding my breath.

They slid over my thighs OK. I eased them up over my hips and they were snug, but not uncomfortable. I finally exhaled and allowed myself to think, "Whew. This just might be OK."

But there was one last test of fabric, stitching and faith ...

Would they button?

(Are you just dying with anticipation? Can you hardly stand it?)

Oh, they buttoned. And I had a split second of pure, unadulterated triumphant glee.

("A size 6. Bam! Take that 20-pound-gain! I'm still in the game!")

Then this happened:

I'm sorry if I'm grossing you out. To put a funny spin on this,
imagine trying to take this photo. I actually had angles that looked
"better" (i.e. less embarrassing/more favorable crop), but I'm showing
you the grossest one to prove my point. Nice tan, right?

Meet my muffin-top. I'm calling her Meredith.

That pure, unadulterated triumphant glee was replaced with a quizzical "WTF?"

I did a quick evaluation. They weren't so tight or uncomfortable (read camel toe) that they shouldn't/couldn't be worn. I could breathe. In fact, they didn't feel or look all that bad anywhere else. But there was that roll.

The solution for now, of course, is to not wear anything tucked in/body hugging on top.

Thank goodness it's sweater season.

Please join me in wishing Meredith a swift and thorough death, in spite of the fact that this is the holiday season.

Fa la la la la la la la la!

Lean in 13 ... -ish

Tomorrow, I start a new challenge.

I'm going to do a 13-day clean eating reset in which my days will look like this:

• Days 1 and 2: Breakfast, lunch, dinner ... only protein and veg. No carbs, no fruit. Two snacks a day of protein. 
• Day 3: Breakfast, lunch ... only protein and veg. Dinner ... protein and complex carb (whole grain, sweet potato, fruit). Two snacks a day, fruit allowed. 

Repeat that cycle for 13 days.

The goal is to avoid sugar, soda, white flour, processed foods ... you know, the crap I've been eating all day today!

(For those of you familiar with Advocare, it's their program. I've opted to do just the eating part, not the whole supplement part.)

I'm trying to get my head ready tonight.

I know I'm going to be hungry. I know I'm going to want to quit or cheat. I know it won't be easy for me ... queen of chocolate. And did I mention that I just made Christmas cookies?

My goal is to reset my stomach, my tastebuds, my habits and my brain.  I've gotten really lazy with my eating. While the Mediterranean Food Pyramid is still my framework, I "break" from the script more often than I care to admit.

As we move into the holiday, I want to feel in control and this is the way I've chosen to do it.

Wish me luck.

Wish Jim luck, too. He's the poor bastard that will have to put up with (likely cranky) me for 13 days.

"You Did All Right" Egg Drop Soup

While there are many things I love about my husband, his enthusiasm for food is not always one of them.

You see,  I can talk about food all day long (might as well, I'm thinking about it). On the contrary, he views food as more of a necessary, purposeful, practical part of life. You eat because you have to to keep moving. Cereal for dinner? That's fine. A ham sandwich every day for lunch? That's fine, too. Food is a means to an end, not necessarily an emotional experience, if that makes sense.

Sometimes I am jealous of his view of food ... mostly because I think my life would be so much easier if I wasn't so obsessed with eating. On the whole, I think his relationship with food is far healthier than my own.

So you can understand how, when I try a new recipe, we have a small bit of conflict.

I want to dissect it. I'm not satisfied with a general "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" review. I want him to give me more information.

What did you like about it? What did you think about X? How would you change it if I made it again? Don't you think it was too (salty, sweet, lumpy, crusty, dry) something?

He generally doesn't say much, waits for me to critique it myself and then agrees with me just to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible, knowing that no matter what he says, I'll debate it (Libra) and will really only agree with myself anyway (first born/Type A).

So today, when I struck out on a rushed "Let's Make Egg Drop Soup in 20 Minutes" mission, he was prepping for the barrage of questions he knew I'd ask.

Then he did something he rarely does.

He tasted it. He ate it. And he said ... unprompted and unprovoked ...

"You did all right with that."

Let me translate that for you:

"I REALLY liked that soup! It was close to perfect! You are an amazing wife and I am lucky to have you! I can't believe you just whipped that up out of nowhere! Please make it again ... soon!"

Then I had some. And it was pretty good. I like it better than the takeout version because I know exactly what's in it and what's not (MSG). Plus, I think it's endlessly modifiable to meet your personal tastes.

As always ... measurements approximate ... do what looks good/tastes good to you!

Egg Drop Soup
1C sliced mushrooms
1 bunch green onions, sliced "pretty" on the bias
1T finely chopped garlic
1/2 to 1T finely chopped ginger -or- less dry ginger seasoning if you don't have fresh
1 box low-sodium chicken stock
2T corn starch, mixed in 1/4C water
2 eggs
Siracha or any hot sauce
Soy sauce
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Optional: Water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, chicken, carrots (sliced into tiny matchsticks), fresh lime juice.

In a big stock pot over medium high heat, drizzle a little olive oil. When it's hot, drop in the mushrooms and let them get a little brown. Before they're all the way done, drop in the onions.

Heat until everything is soft/translucent/cooked through. Salt/pepper to taste. Add garlic and ginger. (I like a lot of ginger, so adjust to your taste.) Once that's heated through (don't burn the garlic), add the chicken stock. Add a squirt or two of Siracha and a glug of soy sauce. While  you are waiting for that to boil, crack two eggs into a small bowl and whip them up with a fork. Set aside. Once the pot is boiling, add your corn starch slurry to thicken the broth. Taste, adjust salt pepper if needed.

Then, with a wooden spoon, stir the pot clockwise. Get it and keep it all moving in one direction. As you stir, slowly drizzle the egg mixture in. Keep stirring! The egg will cook the second it his the hot liquid and you don't want to make scrambled eggs.

If you want to add any of the optional ingredients, add them before the eggs. Since I was using this as a "meal" soup, we added chunks of cooked chicken breast. If I was going to do the carrots, I'd add them with the mushrooms so they cook a little. Honestly, I didn't have green onions on hand, so I just sliced up some red onion really thin.

Does it have to be clockwise? Do you have to use a wooden spoon? Probably not. That's just what the recipes I looked at said, so I'm also including it. Maybe if you're in Australia, you stir counter clockwise?

She's Doing It

Spent some time with a beautiful lady over the holiday weekend.

I hope you're lucky enough to have a woman like this in your life. She's the one that always seems to be smiling. When she spends time with you, you can tell she's totally dialed in. She asks questions about your life ... and remembers the answers even if you don't see her for long stretches of time. You know she runs a complicated household filled with kids, jobs, the everyday stresses of a husband (adorable as he may be) and yet she never seems to talk about herself. She's just one of those people who cares ... genuinely cares ... about everybody.

And when it's time to say goodnight or goodbye after seeing her, you feel so good because she's made you feel so good. And then you wonder if you held up your end of the bargain, because you realize she spent the whole conversation talking about you and you worry that you just weren't that thoughtful and generous in return.

Last summer, we were at a shindig together and she started asking me about how my running was going. How my knees were doing. What other things I was doing for exercise. I didn't think twice about it, jabbered on and on and never once asked about her.

Then, earlier this fall, we meet up again. She kindly inquired about my workout status. I started blathering, and very quietly, almost imperceptibly, she said something along the lines of, "I started running, too."

(This is where you hear that record-scratching sound that only children of the 70's remember in your head.)

What?

She said is so shyly and so inconspicuously, I almost missed it.

She's running.

I couldn't stop grinning. I wanted to know everything. How? When? Why? Was she getting out of it what she wanted to?

But I didn't want to scare her by going into full "I-love-running-don't-you-love-running-let's-talk-running" mode. So I asked questions. Smiled a lot. Learned that she has a big event coming up and wanted to lose a little weight for that.

She said she walked at first. Then ran a little, but was only going out in the twilight because she didn't want anyone to see her. I was so excited I couldn't stand it. I could tell she was committed and that she was going to stick with it.

So when Thanksgiving rolled around, I couldn't wait to check in and see how it was all going.

And, guess what? She's lost 40 pounds. She didn't tell me that, but her husband was doing a bit of bragging on her.

I'm so excited that she's found something she likes to do. I'm so thrilled that she's feeling better and stronger and more confident. I'm over the moon that she's realized that the best part of it all isn't losing the weight.

"When I get home from work and I'm all stressed out, I can't wait to get out there and clear my head," she said. "I feel better about me."

Because in the end, whether you've chosen running, walking, rollerblading or something else altogether, that's s what it's all about.