I made salmon for the first time in my life tonight. (I don't really LIKE salmon. But I'm trying to eat it a little more because I know it's good for me.) It's too spicy for Jim. He's not home yet, but won't love it. And because it's actually very spicy, I've adjusted the seasoning below. Original recipe found on AllRecipes.com.
Note: You'll have more spice mix than fish. I'm going to save it and use it to roast cauliflower with later this week.
Blackened Salmon
Two 6 oz portions of salmon, skin removed
2 Tbsp paprika
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1 Tbsp onion powder
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp each thyme, oregano, basil
Olive oil
Sprinkle both sides of fish with seasoning mix. Put a little olive oil in a hot pan. (Make sure your exhaust fan is on!) Drop fish in and let it sear. I flipped it when it started to smoke "too much." Sear second side. Depending on how thick the fillet is, the fish may not be done all the way through. I like my salmon DONE. So I put it in a 375 degree oven until it was very firm and opaque all the way through.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
27 x 34
I think 27 x 34 was the size of the first pair of Levi's I can remember buying. Gray corduroys from Martin's in Whitewater, circa 9th grade.
I know, I know ... there's no way I wear a 34 length. But I swear that's what they were.
I love the idea of buying jeans, or anything, this way. You measure your waist, you measure your inseam and you go pick the pair of pants from the shelf that matches those numbers. Easy, peasy.
Of course, it's how men still buy things ... jeans/pants, dress shirts, suit coats. How'd they get so lucky?
I have been shopping for our vaca. Here's what I bought:
Size 8 shorts and capris.
Size 10 "fancy" dress
Size Large casual dress
Size Medium and XL shirts
Swimming suit tops in a size 12, size 14 and size Large
Swimming suit bottoms in size Medium and size 10
One-piece slimming swimming suit in a size 10
I've borrowed this from my sister:
1 size 13 skirt
2 size 10 shorts
Really? Is it a conspiracy to keep us guessing? Or do they think we LIKE spending all that time in a fitting room? Irritating as hell.
No matter what size you are, you really aren't, I guess. Pick the smallest one and cut the tags out of the rest.
I know, I know ... there's no way I wear a 34 length. But I swear that's what they were.
I love the idea of buying jeans, or anything, this way. You measure your waist, you measure your inseam and you go pick the pair of pants from the shelf that matches those numbers. Easy, peasy.
Of course, it's how men still buy things ... jeans/pants, dress shirts, suit coats. How'd they get so lucky?
I have been shopping for our vaca. Here's what I bought:
Size 8 shorts and capris.
Size 10 "fancy" dress
Size Large casual dress
Size Medium and XL shirts
Swimming suit tops in a size 12, size 14 and size Large
Swimming suit bottoms in size Medium and size 10
One-piece slimming swimming suit in a size 10
I've borrowed this from my sister:
1 size 13 skirt
2 size 10 shorts
Really? Is it a conspiracy to keep us guessing? Or do they think we LIKE spending all that time in a fitting room? Irritating as hell.
No matter what size you are, you really aren't, I guess. Pick the smallest one and cut the tags out of the rest.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Restaurant Revelations
While it can be tough to find good choices when you're out, we found a couple this weekend.
Fudruckers now has a turkey burger, veggie burger and a salmon filet sandwich. Avoiding the french fries, onion rings and disgustingly yummy cheese sauce from a ketchup pump dispenser is hard. But you can do it.
(And, SOMEHOW, Uncle Jim misunderstood Miss O's request for mint chocolate chip ice cream and got her regular vanilla chocolate ship. Drats. The bottom lip came out a little, so that meant Jim and I got to share the "mistake" after he replaced it with the right thing. Yay!)
Noodles and Company also offers whole wheat pasta and 16 dishes with 400 calories or less. Obvioulsy, it's the "small" sizes, but it's something. When you're in a pinch, and fast-ish food is unavoidable, it's good to know there are options.
Fudruckers now has a turkey burger, veggie burger and a salmon filet sandwich. Avoiding the french fries, onion rings and disgustingly yummy cheese sauce from a ketchup pump dispenser is hard. But you can do it.
(And, SOMEHOW, Uncle Jim misunderstood Miss O's request for mint chocolate chip ice cream and got her regular vanilla chocolate ship. Drats. The bottom lip came out a little, so that meant Jim and I got to share the "mistake" after he replaced it with the right thing. Yay!)
Noodles and Company also offers whole wheat pasta and 16 dishes with 400 calories or less. Obvioulsy, it's the "small" sizes, but it's something. When you're in a pinch, and fast-ish food is unavoidable, it's good to know there are options.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Don't You Miss Eating?
I heard this question today when I picked up my lunch.
Nearly every day, I pop into the little breakroom on the 4th floor, grab a raw veggie cup, two hard boiled eggs and a container of skim milk. Depending on the selection, I might substitute a string cheese for the milk or eggs. Or add an apple or orange if I'm hungry. But generally, it's pretty much the same thing every day.
Today, the lady that rings me up looked at me and very honestly asked, "Don't you miss eating? Does it get easier or is it hard every day? Don't you miss it?"
"But I DO eat," I replied. "I eat. I eat a lot." But she really made me think on the way back to my desk.
Do I miss eating? Do I really feel deprived and MISS it? Is it hard to eat what I'm eating?
And, honestly, the answer is no. I don't miss eating like I used to eat. In fact, I LIKE the veggies and the fruit and I don't miss the meat nearly as much as I would have predicted.
I do miss some things, though.
I miss the "ease" of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I miss the ease of not having to plan the day or the week out to make sure I get enough fish or don't get too many carbs in one sitting. I miss the ease of fast fix meals from a box when I'm running behind.
Because, let's face it. I'm lazy.
But I don't miss eating. Because I do eat.
I LOVE cheese. I eat cheese. Just not a lot and not every day.
I LOVE cheeseburgers. I eat cheeseburgers. But now I probably have one a month made from beef. And maybe one a month made from ground turkey.
I LOVE crusty, chewy french baguettes or bagels or sourdough. With cheese. And I don't eat any of them much at all. But when I do, I sit down and make it an event.
I LOVE pork tenderloin and pulled pork and pork tacos. I eat pork. But when I do, it's not more than a couple of times a month and I skip the potatoes and bread and other things that go with it.
I LOVE ice cream. I eat ice cream. Cones. One at a time from Dairy Queen or McD's where it's ice milk, not Culver's custard. And instead of buying a gallon from the grocery store, Jim and I only stop for a treat every once in a while.
I LOVE potato chips. I eat potato chips. Yeah, sometimes they're baked (which are really awful, IMHO), but there's also a bag of reduced fat Kettle cooked chips in the pantry right now. They were opened in October, I think. And still crunchy. I just haven't "needed" to eat them. I can usually find a better choice.
So, I don't really miss eating.
And I certainly don't miss the 84 pounds that have disappeared, either.
Nearly every day, I pop into the little breakroom on the 4th floor, grab a raw veggie cup, two hard boiled eggs and a container of skim milk. Depending on the selection, I might substitute a string cheese for the milk or eggs. Or add an apple or orange if I'm hungry. But generally, it's pretty much the same thing every day.
Today, the lady that rings me up looked at me and very honestly asked, "Don't you miss eating? Does it get easier or is it hard every day? Don't you miss it?"
"But I DO eat," I replied. "I eat. I eat a lot." But she really made me think on the way back to my desk.
Do I miss eating? Do I really feel deprived and MISS it? Is it hard to eat what I'm eating?
And, honestly, the answer is no. I don't miss eating like I used to eat. In fact, I LIKE the veggies and the fruit and I don't miss the meat nearly as much as I would have predicted.
I do miss some things, though.
I miss the "ease" of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I miss the ease of not having to plan the day or the week out to make sure I get enough fish or don't get too many carbs in one sitting. I miss the ease of fast fix meals from a box when I'm running behind.
Because, let's face it. I'm lazy.
But I don't miss eating. Because I do eat.
I LOVE cheese. I eat cheese. Just not a lot and not every day.
I LOVE cheeseburgers. I eat cheeseburgers. But now I probably have one a month made from beef. And maybe one a month made from ground turkey.
I LOVE crusty, chewy french baguettes or bagels or sourdough. With cheese. And I don't eat any of them much at all. But when I do, I sit down and make it an event.
I LOVE pork tenderloin and pulled pork and pork tacos. I eat pork. But when I do, it's not more than a couple of times a month and I skip the potatoes and bread and other things that go with it.
I LOVE ice cream. I eat ice cream. Cones. One at a time from Dairy Queen or McD's where it's ice milk, not Culver's custard. And instead of buying a gallon from the grocery store, Jim and I only stop for a treat every once in a while.
I LOVE potato chips. I eat potato chips. Yeah, sometimes they're baked (which are really awful, IMHO), but there's also a bag of reduced fat Kettle cooked chips in the pantry right now. They were opened in October, I think. And still crunchy. I just haven't "needed" to eat them. I can usually find a better choice.
So, I don't really miss eating.
And I certainly don't miss the 84 pounds that have disappeared, either.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Unexpected Downside of Being Thinner #6
You comfortably fit in the middle seat on the airplane.
Which means you get to sit there. Note to self: Still ask for the aisle.
Which means you get to sit there. Note to self: Still ask for the aisle.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Offsetting Off Program
Traveling again for work. Harder this time because of distance and schedule.
Tues: Up at 3:45 a.m. to catch 6 a.m. flight. No workout. Arrive in Atlanta at 9:30 a.m., and walk a freaking mile at least from one end of the airport to the other ... on purpose. Trying to sneak in a workout. Head to hotel, set up booth and work from 1-8 p.m. Grab a salad at lunch, eat opening night reception food around 5 p.m. which consists of two small plates of sweet potato fries and a chocolate covered strawberry. Then walk to restaurant a couple of blocks away and eat salad with blackened salmon.
Wed: Up at 4:45 a.m. to get 1 hour in on treadmill. Walk 4.25 miles and safely in booth at 7 a.m. Breakfast meeting at 10 a.m. (two eggs over easy, turkey sausage and wheat toast) and back to the airport at 3 p.m. Again walk the length of the airport instead of taking the train ... though I really think twice about it. I'm tired.
Now I'm trying to find something decent to eat for dinner before I board.
My point? When you can't do it like you want to, do the best you can. Grab the exercise when an opportunity presents itself. And don't worry too much about a plate or two of sweet potato fries.
Tues: Up at 3:45 a.m. to catch 6 a.m. flight. No workout. Arrive in Atlanta at 9:30 a.m., and walk a freaking mile at least from one end of the airport to the other ... on purpose. Trying to sneak in a workout. Head to hotel, set up booth and work from 1-8 p.m. Grab a salad at lunch, eat opening night reception food around 5 p.m. which consists of two small plates of sweet potato fries and a chocolate covered strawberry. Then walk to restaurant a couple of blocks away and eat salad with blackened salmon.
Wed: Up at 4:45 a.m. to get 1 hour in on treadmill. Walk 4.25 miles and safely in booth at 7 a.m. Breakfast meeting at 10 a.m. (two eggs over easy, turkey sausage and wheat toast) and back to the airport at 3 p.m. Again walk the length of the airport instead of taking the train ... though I really think twice about it. I'm tired.
Now I'm trying to find something decent to eat for dinner before I board.
My point? When you can't do it like you want to, do the best you can. Grab the exercise when an opportunity presents itself. And don't worry too much about a plate or two of sweet potato fries.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #8
I was comfortable on an airplane.
I could cross my legs. I didn't have to actively hold my arms in at my sides to prevent me from touching my seatmates. I could walk down the aisle to the fantastic bathroom (such a FUN trip!) without turning sideways the whole way.
P.S. If you're looking for a minor workout, fly in to Atlanta, land in concourse C and walk the whole way to baggage claim! Skip the moving walkways. It's a freaking hike.
I could cross my legs. I didn't have to actively hold my arms in at my sides to prevent me from touching my seatmates. I could walk down the aisle to the fantastic bathroom (such a FUN trip!) without turning sideways the whole way.
P.S. If you're looking for a minor workout, fly in to Atlanta, land in concourse C and walk the whole way to baggage claim! Skip the moving walkways. It's a freaking hike.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Food Hangover
Had a great Packer party yesterday ... victory is SWEET! Made reasonably healthy snacks. Didn't drink a single drop of alcohol.
And felt like crap today.
I'm calling it a food hangover.
I didn't eat anything too terrible. Just ate Way. Too. Much. Too many raw veggies. Too much dip. Too many crackers. Too much cheese. Too much fruit. Too much salt.
And my friend the scale said I gained 3 pounds over the weekend. Ugh.
Back on the horse today. Traveling for work early tomorrow morning to Atlanta. Returning home Wednesday night. I packed one set of workout clothes and hope to squeeze some sort of activity in Wednesday morning.
Wish me luck. Hope you have some, too.
And felt like crap today.
I'm calling it a food hangover.
I didn't eat anything too terrible. Just ate Way. Too. Much. Too many raw veggies. Too much dip. Too many crackers. Too much cheese. Too much fruit. Too much salt.
And my friend the scale said I gained 3 pounds over the weekend. Ugh.
Back on the horse today. Traveling for work early tomorrow morning to Atlanta. Returning home Wednesday night. I packed one set of workout clothes and hope to squeeze some sort of activity in Wednesday morning.
Wish me luck. Hope you have some, too.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Is Image Everything?
Seeing your own reflection seems easy, right? In theory, you look in a mirror and you know exactly what you look like.
Or you should. Seeing is believing, they say.
But I find the mirror the least reliable source of information.
Here's my point: Your brain interprets what your eyes see, and your BRAIN is horribly UNreliable. It's unreliable because it's crowded with feelings and beliefs and judgements and opinions and hopes and fears ... You get the idea.
When I was in high school, I thought I was enormous. I thought I was a squishy girl when compared to the other girls. I remember going on a "no food" diet for about a week when Diet Coke was the only sustenance. I got into a tiny pair of baby pink Levi jeans (bought at the JCP in downtown FA, for those of you that remember that) and it resulted in me all but passing out at the Janesville Mall on a Friday night.
Looking back at photos now, I can't see squishy anywhere. I was an athlete, sturdier in build than waif-like girls, but not squishy at all. Proportionate, strong, lean even. In my mind's eye, however, that was not the case.
Early in my career, I also thought I was more than sturdy. I began to hide the flaws I thought were there in "comfortable" clothes. Remember stirrup pants and trapeze tops?
As I got bigger ... truly bigger ... I didn't see big. I saw sturdy. Moving from missy to plus sizes wasn't as arresting as it should have been. They don't make things for "curvy" girls, I reasoned. And, when I looked in the mirror, I saw someone SMALLER than I really was.
I thought I was hiding my real size with decent clothes. That the clothes would help me look smaller, and no one would notice what the overall me really was. I would walk up to the glass doors at work studying my reflection ... was that me or is there distortion?
It wasn't until I saw a photo of myself on my 40th birthday that it really hit me. Who was that person sitting there? My head looked so small in proportion to the rest of me.
I began quizzing Jim when we were out in humanity ... "Do I look bigger or smaller than her? She is shaped like me, right? Is my butt that wide?" I wasn't doing it to fish for a compliment or to get him to lie to me and make me feel better. I was doing it to get my own vision in line with reality. I seriously couldn't tell where I fit on the continuum or what I looked like.
I tried on some summer clothes yesterday, including swimming suits, and had the same mind-bending experience. I'm still convinced I look sort of enormous sometimes. And I know it's not true. But I honestly don't know what the hell I look like.
I know I am--and therefore look--thinner than I did before, but I can really only see it when I compare my drivers license photo from 2 years ago to the one I have today. In them, I look like two different people. In fact, I carry the old one around so I have some tangible proof.
And I still see the old me in the reflection of the glass doors.
Or you should. Seeing is believing, they say.
But I find the mirror the least reliable source of information.
Here's my point: Your brain interprets what your eyes see, and your BRAIN is horribly UNreliable. It's unreliable because it's crowded with feelings and beliefs and judgements and opinions and hopes and fears ... You get the idea.
When I was in high school, I thought I was enormous. I thought I was a squishy girl when compared to the other girls. I remember going on a "no food" diet for about a week when Diet Coke was the only sustenance. I got into a tiny pair of baby pink Levi jeans (bought at the JCP in downtown FA, for those of you that remember that) and it resulted in me all but passing out at the Janesville Mall on a Friday night.
Looking back at photos now, I can't see squishy anywhere. I was an athlete, sturdier in build than waif-like girls, but not squishy at all. Proportionate, strong, lean even. In my mind's eye, however, that was not the case.
Early in my career, I also thought I was more than sturdy. I began to hide the flaws I thought were there in "comfortable" clothes. Remember stirrup pants and trapeze tops?
As I got bigger ... truly bigger ... I didn't see big. I saw sturdy. Moving from missy to plus sizes wasn't as arresting as it should have been. They don't make things for "curvy" girls, I reasoned. And, when I looked in the mirror, I saw someone SMALLER than I really was.
I thought I was hiding my real size with decent clothes. That the clothes would help me look smaller, and no one would notice what the overall me really was. I would walk up to the glass doors at work studying my reflection ... was that me or is there distortion?
It wasn't until I saw a photo of myself on my 40th birthday that it really hit me. Who was that person sitting there? My head looked so small in proportion to the rest of me.
I began quizzing Jim when we were out in humanity ... "Do I look bigger or smaller than her? She is shaped like me, right? Is my butt that wide?" I wasn't doing it to fish for a compliment or to get him to lie to me and make me feel better. I was doing it to get my own vision in line with reality. I seriously couldn't tell where I fit on the continuum or what I looked like.
I tried on some summer clothes yesterday, including swimming suits, and had the same mind-bending experience. I'm still convinced I look sort of enormous sometimes. And I know it's not true. But I honestly don't know what the hell I look like.
I know I am--and therefore look--thinner than I did before, but I can really only see it when I compare my drivers license photo from 2 years ago to the one I have today. In them, I look like two different people. In fact, I carry the old one around so I have some tangible proof.
And I still see the old me in the reflection of the glass doors.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Game Day Snacks
We just prepped for the big game tomorrow. Feel free to stop in if you're nearby. As of right now the gathering will be small, but loud!
Here's the menu. Hearty enough for those who don't have to worry and well-behaved enough for the rest of us.
1. Make your own subs: ham, turkey, roast beef, smoked Gouda, Diamond marble, queso fresco, tomatoes, lettuce, onions, light mayo, sweet pepper rings, stone ground mustard, honey mustard, pesto, normal sub rolls, whole wheat flat bread and a French baguette.
2. Veggie tray: Duh. Dip made from half light sour cream, half non-fat plain yogurt.
3. Crackers and dip: Water crackers and dip made from light cream cheese and sweet red pepper relish.
4. Soup: Soften up some onions, carrots and garlic in a soup pot with olive oil, salt and pepper. Cut up a smoked turkey sausage (sold by ring bologna) and throw it in. Cube a big sweet potato and a regular potato. Dump it in the pot with a big box of stock. Add water to cover the potatoes in needed. Bring to boil, season with whatever you like. I used paprika and cumin. When the potatoes are fork tender, add a few handfuls of kale. Let it wilt. Add a little bit of nutmeg and adjust salt/pepper.
5. Fruit salad: pineapple, cantaloupe, blueberries and blackberries. Debating on making a lemon quick bread to serve with it.
Now, if Green Bay can just get it done!!!!! Fingers crossed.
Here's the menu. Hearty enough for those who don't have to worry and well-behaved enough for the rest of us.
1. Make your own subs: ham, turkey, roast beef, smoked Gouda, Diamond marble, queso fresco, tomatoes, lettuce, onions, light mayo, sweet pepper rings, stone ground mustard, honey mustard, pesto, normal sub rolls, whole wheat flat bread and a French baguette.
2. Veggie tray: Duh. Dip made from half light sour cream, half non-fat plain yogurt.
3. Crackers and dip: Water crackers and dip made from light cream cheese and sweet red pepper relish.
4. Soup: Soften up some onions, carrots and garlic in a soup pot with olive oil, salt and pepper. Cut up a smoked turkey sausage (sold by ring bologna) and throw it in. Cube a big sweet potato and a regular potato. Dump it in the pot with a big box of stock. Add water to cover the potatoes in needed. Bring to boil, season with whatever you like. I used paprika and cumin. When the potatoes are fork tender, add a few handfuls of kale. Let it wilt. Add a little bit of nutmeg and adjust salt/pepper.
5. Fruit salad: pineapple, cantaloupe, blueberries and blackberries. Debating on making a lemon quick bread to serve with it.
Now, if Green Bay can just get it done!!!!! Fingers crossed.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Prom Dress Promise
I am still in possession of the prom dress from my senior year in high school. That means I have been carrying it around for almost 25 years.
I adore it.
Back in the spring of 1986, it was a hot little number, too.
Those of you that remember 1986 in small town Wisconsin might remember the fashion of the day. Gunne Sax dresses were still in vogue. Pastel floral prints, lacey high necks, hoop skirts and ruffles. Lots of ruffles.
The dress from my junior year fit all those criteria. It was a Mother-approved, baby pink, dotted Swiss number that I wore with white vinyl sandals and a shawl. (I also had braces on my teeth and still got served a bottle of wine at the restaurant, go figure. Times were certainly different.)
Gack.
So my senior year, I went for broke. The dress is hot pink, tea length, off the shoulder matte-finish iridescent taffeta. Did you get that? HOT pink. TEA length. OFF the shoulder. I wore it with a pair of exact-match hot pink Nine West pumps that I loved with all my heart (and wore for years afterward). I thought I was the rockin'-est chick there ever was.
I tried it on last night.
It's a size 9. I was hopeful.
It didn't fit. I can get the zipper up past my waist, but my rib cage is apparently MUCH larger than it was oh so many years ago.
But I think there's a chance I can get in it.
If my remaining 16 pounds come off in the right places, you just might see me on Prom Night at a local restaurant, pretending Jim is my "older" boyfriend who can legally buy booze for me and ALL my friends!
And who knows ... maybe by my 10-year wedding anniversary in 2012 I can make two dresses out of my original size 20 gown for a vow renewal.
I adore it.
Back in the spring of 1986, it was a hot little number, too.
Those of you that remember 1986 in small town Wisconsin might remember the fashion of the day. Gunne Sax dresses were still in vogue. Pastel floral prints, lacey high necks, hoop skirts and ruffles. Lots of ruffles.
The dress from my junior year fit all those criteria. It was a Mother-approved, baby pink, dotted Swiss number that I wore with white vinyl sandals and a shawl. (I also had braces on my teeth and still got served a bottle of wine at the restaurant, go figure. Times were certainly different.)
Gack.
So my senior year, I went for broke. The dress is hot pink, tea length, off the shoulder matte-finish iridescent taffeta. Did you get that? HOT pink. TEA length. OFF the shoulder. I wore it with a pair of exact-match hot pink Nine West pumps that I loved with all my heart (and wore for years afterward). I thought I was the rockin'-est chick there ever was.
I tried it on last night.
It's a size 9. I was hopeful.
It didn't fit. I can get the zipper up past my waist, but my rib cage is apparently MUCH larger than it was oh so many years ago.
But I think there's a chance I can get in it.
If my remaining 16 pounds come off in the right places, you just might see me on Prom Night at a local restaurant, pretending Jim is my "older" boyfriend who can legally buy booze for me and ALL my friends!
And who knows ... maybe by my 10-year wedding anniversary in 2012 I can make two dresses out of my original size 20 gown for a vow renewal.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Extra Efforts
Walking is good. I like it. Some days I like it more than others. But the truth is sometimes it gets boring. And sometimes my routine needs a BAM to break the monotony.
Here are some other things I do to switch it up a little.
Leg lifts. Lay on floor on your back. Bend one leg up so your foot in on the floor. Lift the other heel a few inches off the ground and hold it for as long as you can. Or, swing it side to side or pick it up and down, never allowing your heel to touch the ground.
Sit-ups on the exercise ball. I can't do sit-ups on the floor. I'm not coordinated enough or something ... it just never feels right. But I can go all day on that big blue ball. I started doing 50 or 75 of them. But now I can do 500. Bear in mind that I only do 500 once in a while. I feel OK the morning following, but by late afternoon I'm so sore I can't stand it and hurts for a couple of days. Yes, it would be smarter to do 200 every day or something. But smart isn't always my strong suit. I used to do them in the morning before I showered when I was working out at night. Nice balance.
Tick Tocks. My friend Tina taught me this one and I was completely surprised at how hard it was. Stand behind a chair/couch. Or next to your chest of drawers ... something to hang on to that's about waist high. Stand on one leg and swing the other out to the side (like a pendulum), and then back to the middle. You can switch left to right to left to right ... tick tock, get it? Or I usually just do 25 or 35 on one leg and then switch to the other. Again, I have no idea what it works, but it hurts, so I assume that means it's good.
Front and back kicks. When I'm doing tick tocks, I add front kicks and back kicks to round out the butt/leg ensemble. Again, just stand there and kick your leg out front 25 or 35 times, never letting it touch the floor. Switch legs. Do it to the back, kicking your leg out back behind you. Sometimes I kick and hold that one, imagining that it will make my butt look high, tight and round. (It's not working so far.)
Hand weights. Yeah, sure, bicep curls. On the exercise ball for extra umph. I also put the weight by my ear and push up. And then I put the weight at my side and lift out to the side or straight out front. Or, with arms outstretched to your side, twist your wrists back and forth.
Squats. Squats make me nervous because my left knee still wiggles when it's not supposed to. But I have started doing a few when I'm stretching before I get on the treadmill. Or, this morning I heard the exercise dude on the Channel 3 morning show say to do them while you're brushing your teeth. I thought that was a great idea and started today.
Treadmill Karate. I imagine this looks incredibly stupid. But to increase my heart rate in short bursts, I'll add some arm movements to my normal walking. PLEASE NOTE: I can't watch TV while I do this because I'll trip and fall. Enter at your own risk. But at the start of a quarter mile, I'll do 50 reps of something. Like cross/jab punches out in front of me. Or uppercuts. Or punches up at the sky. Or I lift my arms straight out at my side and bend at the elbow to karate chop at my chest, palms down. (Kind of like a cheerleader move.) Feel free to make up your own.
Butt Lifts. Lay on your back on the floor. Bend knees and put your feet on the floor. Lift your hips toward the ceiling and repeat as many times as you can. Then, lift hips up and hold it, squeezing your butt cheeks, for as long as you can. I have no idea what, if anything, this does. But it entertains Jim. (Cracks him up, actually. Not what you were thinking!)
Here are some other things I do to switch it up a little.
Leg lifts. Lay on floor on your back. Bend one leg up so your foot in on the floor. Lift the other heel a few inches off the ground and hold it for as long as you can. Or, swing it side to side or pick it up and down, never allowing your heel to touch the ground.
Sit-ups on the exercise ball. I can't do sit-ups on the floor. I'm not coordinated enough or something ... it just never feels right. But I can go all day on that big blue ball. I started doing 50 or 75 of them. But now I can do 500. Bear in mind that I only do 500 once in a while. I feel OK the morning following, but by late afternoon I'm so sore I can't stand it and hurts for a couple of days. Yes, it would be smarter to do 200 every day or something. But smart isn't always my strong suit. I used to do them in the morning before I showered when I was working out at night. Nice balance.
Tick Tocks. My friend Tina taught me this one and I was completely surprised at how hard it was. Stand behind a chair/couch. Or next to your chest of drawers ... something to hang on to that's about waist high. Stand on one leg and swing the other out to the side (like a pendulum), and then back to the middle. You can switch left to right to left to right ... tick tock, get it? Or I usually just do 25 or 35 on one leg and then switch to the other. Again, I have no idea what it works, but it hurts, so I assume that means it's good.
Front and back kicks. When I'm doing tick tocks, I add front kicks and back kicks to round out the butt/leg ensemble. Again, just stand there and kick your leg out front 25 or 35 times, never letting it touch the floor. Switch legs. Do it to the back, kicking your leg out back behind you. Sometimes I kick and hold that one, imagining that it will make my butt look high, tight and round. (It's not working so far.)
Hand weights. Yeah, sure, bicep curls. On the exercise ball for extra umph. I also put the weight by my ear and push up. And then I put the weight at my side and lift out to the side or straight out front. Or, with arms outstretched to your side, twist your wrists back and forth.
Squats. Squats make me nervous because my left knee still wiggles when it's not supposed to. But I have started doing a few when I'm stretching before I get on the treadmill. Or, this morning I heard the exercise dude on the Channel 3 morning show say to do them while you're brushing your teeth. I thought that was a great idea and started today.
Treadmill Karate. I imagine this looks incredibly stupid. But to increase my heart rate in short bursts, I'll add some arm movements to my normal walking. PLEASE NOTE: I can't watch TV while I do this because I'll trip and fall. Enter at your own risk. But at the start of a quarter mile, I'll do 50 reps of something. Like cross/jab punches out in front of me. Or uppercuts. Or punches up at the sky. Or I lift my arms straight out at my side and bend at the elbow to karate chop at my chest, palms down. (Kind of like a cheerleader move.) Feel free to make up your own.
Butt Lifts. Lay on your back on the floor. Bend knees and put your feet on the floor. Lift your hips toward the ceiling and repeat as many times as you can. Then, lift hips up and hold it, squeezing your butt cheeks, for as long as you can. I have no idea what, if anything, this does. But it entertains Jim. (Cracks him up, actually. Not what you were thinking!)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Unexpected Benefit of Being Thinner #7
Today when I wore corduroy pants, my thighs didn't make that noise from rubbing together. My ankles did. Boot cut.
P.S. Feel free to gag a little over yesterday's post. It was a bit sappy. That's what the comment button is for, people! Bust me. Or tell me what you want to know about. You must be getting tired of listening to me just ramble!
P.S. Feel free to gag a little over yesterday's post. It was a bit sappy. That's what the comment button is for, people! Bust me. Or tell me what you want to know about. You must be getting tired of listening to me just ramble!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Lighter in More Ways Than One
Yeah, I weigh less than I did a year ago. But something else changed along the way.
My attitude/outlook/mindset also shed some "ell bees."
I'm always a little surprised when I notice it. I catch myself being a little more outgoing. I laugh a little more, a little louder. I just feel better in my skin ... a little more like me.
I had forgotten what "me" was like. I'd spent a long time stuffing me down inside; covering me up with french fries, ice cream and soft, white, doughy bagels.
Here's an example: Today I ended up in the front row of a photo for an upcoming catalog. Now, mind you, I have worked at my job for 20 years and 1) never been asked to be in a photo and 2) never in a million years would have agreed to be in one had I been asked. And here I was, today, in the front row. (Front row because I was the shortest, but you get the point I'm trying to make.)
I spent years, literally and figuratively, trying to duck behind someone, anyone, to hide part of me if I absolutely couldn't avoid a photo altogether. My godchild Paige has a pile of photos of me making funny faces because I figured that since I knew the snapshot would look awful anyway, it was better to look stupid on purpose.
Which is why today was so odd. While I'm not exactly comfortable being out front, I could do it. I didn't panic. I could even enjoy it a little. (It helps that I was surrounded by the most beautiful team on the planet!)
I walk a little taller. I smile a little more. And I like it.
My attitude/outlook/mindset also shed some "ell bees."
I'm always a little surprised when I notice it. I catch myself being a little more outgoing. I laugh a little more, a little louder. I just feel better in my skin ... a little more like me.
I had forgotten what "me" was like. I'd spent a long time stuffing me down inside; covering me up with french fries, ice cream and soft, white, doughy bagels.
Here's an example: Today I ended up in the front row of a photo for an upcoming catalog. Now, mind you, I have worked at my job for 20 years and 1) never been asked to be in a photo and 2) never in a million years would have agreed to be in one had I been asked. And here I was, today, in the front row. (Front row because I was the shortest, but you get the point I'm trying to make.)
I spent years, literally and figuratively, trying to duck behind someone, anyone, to hide part of me if I absolutely couldn't avoid a photo altogether. My godchild Paige has a pile of photos of me making funny faces because I figured that since I knew the snapshot would look awful anyway, it was better to look stupid on purpose.
Which is why today was so odd. While I'm not exactly comfortable being out front, I could do it. I didn't panic. I could even enjoy it a little. (It helps that I was surrounded by the most beautiful team on the planet!)
I walk a little taller. I smile a little more. And I like it.
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