2/15 - 2/21
I've gotten really good at counting calories, but I'm still having problems making those calories count. Whoa! See what I just did there? Came up with that as I was typing. Skinny must bring out the genius in me.
Even though I'm putting all my food into my calorie counter app, I still haven't mastered the beauty (or math) of it all. When there's good TV on (and as I've discussed, this happens all too often) I can't help but stay on the elliptical for an hour or more (why oh why are you SO good Jersey Shore?!). My "personal trainer" (I use quotes because he takes the time to tell me what I'm doing wrong every now and then even though I can't pay him money to do it regularly) tells me I should only be working out 35 to 40 minutes a day. When I work out too long, I burn too many calories and my body goes into some kind of... cortisol... something. I don't know, he speaks a lot of science talk and I zone out.
Also, when I burn those 700 calories I'm supposed to be making them up over the course of the day by eating more. And that's where my problem lies. I drank too much last week (and for me, that means 2 days in a row) I ate pizza for breakfast too often, and I made delicious, delicious chicken salad for lunches. Yes, it's made with vegan mayo, but that shit isn't healthy, it just doesn't have eggs in it.
So I'm still around 1600 calories a day, plus my workouts, but it's not enough. There's too much sugar (story of my life) and not enough fiber. There's plenty of protein, but that's because I've been mainlining homemade trail mix for days and putting peanut butter on everything.
When I get on the scale Monday morning, I really want to be out of the 190s. Last time I lost weight I made it down to 194 and then started packing on the pounds again. I want to be in the 180s so I know this is for real and I know I can keep going.
0.6 pounds down and now I weigh 190.3. Yes, it's a loss, but in my head it's not enough. In my disappointment about not hitting that really important goal, I miss the fact that I've officially lost 25 pounds since I started last May. 20 of it was last year, and six of it in the last five weeks. And in the long run that's not too bad. If I keep going, in 20 weeks I'll be at my goal. And if I don't, in 20 weeks I'll be right here still. Not that I'm going to quit, it's just nice to have a little perspective.
(Also, yay for my gym buddy who lost 2.2 pounds in week five and is officially in the mid-180s AND has lost 30 pounds since we started! Couldn't be more pleased for her success.)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Week four...
...in which I have a chocolate stain on my ass.
2/8 - 2/14
There are so many reasons to have a gym buddy. Motivation to keep up, support when the weight's not coming off, reassurance that the right food choices are being made. I need a gym buddy to clean up after me and make sure I'm not making a fool of myself.
This week Elyse was like a watchdog. Not to make sure my form was right or that I'm entering my calories at every meal, she had to follow me around like a nanny (or care-taker) to my ADHD controlled wanderings. Towels left on the floor, water bottles stranded in the locker room; I'm not sure where my mind was, not on the task at hand. Residual from last week I suppose.
I've forgotten my sports bra and have on a slightly low cut shirt. It's the burden of having an above average rack, an ample bosom if you will, that even modest clothing can seem marginally lascivious. So Elyse, as is laid out in her gym buddy contract, was on duty that night to make sure I wasn't giving too much of an eyeful. It's a big job. (That was a very Tobias-esque sentence right there! I got in duty (heh), laid (meh) and big job (heh) all in one! Nice.)
We're walking out of the locker room onto the floor to do some weights. Probably going to do some waling, most likely on our glutes but can't be too sure yet. That's when Elyse, independent of her boob gazing promise, notices I have something on my ass. And yes, it's chocolate. A big splotch of it. Not sure how it got there, but I almost always have melted chocolate somewhere on my person. A girlfriend of mine visited once, spent the night on the couch and when she woke up in the morning, she had melted chocolate all over her arm. We never found the culprit.
Yes, it's mildly embarrassing to have something on my pants, a little more so when they're tight & black, slightly more when it's chocolate, and the coup de grace is that proof of my caloric indiscretions were right there. On my ass. A quick trip to the sink and then the blow dryer; I was slightly damp but ready to go.
The moral here? Have a gym buddy. Preferably one that's not afraid to stare at your ass. Thanks Elyse!
Oh yeah and I lost 1.6 pounds this week! Not quite into the 180s yet (190.9 pounds, so close!) but I lost 5.5 pounds in four weeks, so that's totally a win!
2/8 - 2/14
There are so many reasons to have a gym buddy. Motivation to keep up, support when the weight's not coming off, reassurance that the right food choices are being made. I need a gym buddy to clean up after me and make sure I'm not making a fool of myself.
This week Elyse was like a watchdog. Not to make sure my form was right or that I'm entering my calories at every meal, she had to follow me around like a nanny (or care-taker) to my ADHD controlled wanderings. Towels left on the floor, water bottles stranded in the locker room; I'm not sure where my mind was, not on the task at hand. Residual from last week I suppose.
I've forgotten my sports bra and have on a slightly low cut shirt. It's the burden of having an above average rack, an ample bosom if you will, that even modest clothing can seem marginally lascivious. So Elyse, as is laid out in her gym buddy contract, was on duty that night to make sure I wasn't giving too much of an eyeful. It's a big job. (That was a very Tobias-esque sentence right there! I got in duty (heh), laid (meh) and big job (heh) all in one! Nice.)
We're walking out of the locker room onto the floor to do some weights. Probably going to do some waling, most likely on our glutes but can't be too sure yet. That's when Elyse, independent of her boob gazing promise, notices I have something on my ass. And yes, it's chocolate. A big splotch of it. Not sure how it got there, but I almost always have melted chocolate somewhere on my person. A girlfriend of mine visited once, spent the night on the couch and when she woke up in the morning, she had melted chocolate all over her arm. We never found the culprit.
Yes, it's mildly embarrassing to have something on my pants, a little more so when they're tight & black, slightly more when it's chocolate, and the coup de grace is that proof of my caloric indiscretions were right there. On my ass. A quick trip to the sink and then the blow dryer; I was slightly damp but ready to go.
The moral here? Have a gym buddy. Preferably one that's not afraid to stare at your ass. Thanks Elyse!
Oh yeah and I lost 1.6 pounds this week! Not quite into the 180s yet (190.9 pounds, so close!) but I lost 5.5 pounds in four weeks, so that's totally a win!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Week three is a rough one.
2/1 - 2/7
It's not a rough week for training or eating. It's a rough personal and professional week. Work has been formidable, and I spent my two days off this week doing very little, stuck in a mild depression and severe inertia. I've always had problems sleeping, but this week I had an even tougher time. I've read over and over again that it's really important to get just the right amount of sleep to help aid weight loss, and my body wanting to be awake all night and sleep during the day wasn't helping. I tried to trick my brain into thinking it was "nap time" at bed time, but I figured out the ruse after only two nights and was back to lying awake at night wondering why Logan on "Veronica Mars" stays in a suite at the Neptune Grand Hotel and doesn't just get an apartment somewhere. Obviously he can afford it! I'm serious. I was pondering this one night at 2:30 am. I have issues.
But I did go to the gym every day this week (except Saturday); it was my escape. I can put on my headphones, ignore everyone, watch Jersey Shore and roll my eyes at Ronnie and Sammi's ridiculously destructive relationship or when The Situation refers to himself in the 3rd person (side note: both of those happen a LOT and sometimes my contact almost falls out from rolling my eyes so much, but I keep watching). I can watch other fat people working really hard to lose weight on any number of diet shows that are on right now. "I Used to Be Fat" on MTV, "Heavy" on A&E, "Biggest Loser" on NBC. When I'm on the floor doing weights I try not to rock out too hard to my gym play list (Mos Def is awesome for that). Not that I care what other people think when they see me; I spend my time judging others, why shouldn't they spend their time judging me? I probably deserve it. My hair is pretty ridiculous most of the time. Also, I wear a black sports bra under white t-shirts. Classy!
Week two ended with a barrage of drinks (we call them NJ's Soy Rides: chocolate almond milk, whipped cream vodka and creme de cacao. You're welcome.) way too much guacamole and a pound gain. I wasn't going to make the same mistake this week. On Wednesday Elyse (my gym buddy) and I had an at-home happy hour, making our own margaritas, stuffed jalapenos with vegan cream cheese, and delicious halved tomatoes filled with mozzarella, tofu, arugula and balsamic vinaigrette. So so good. And right now I have so much amazing homemade food that I don't know what to eat first. It's a delicious problem to have. I haven't purchased my lunch in days and have enough food stocked up that I could bring my own food to work every day for the foreseeable future. That helps the bank account and the waist line.
Sunday night, the night before weigh in, I take a risk and go over to a friend's house for movies and video games. There's a Chipotle on the way to the house and I found a website that allows me to click what I want to eat and it tell me exactly what I'm getting into. Amazing. I even have a (small) glass of red wine to wash it down.
Monday morning: BAM! 2.5 pounds down! I'm now 192.1 and the smallest I've been for at least seven or eight years. I'll need a belt soon for my new skinny pants I just bought in September. Another five pounds and I'm going to try on my goal jeans again. Hopes are low, but they're also what keep me going. The other thing keeping me going? Knowing that I'll be one skinny bitch.
It's not a rough week for training or eating. It's a rough personal and professional week. Work has been formidable, and I spent my two days off this week doing very little, stuck in a mild depression and severe inertia. I've always had problems sleeping, but this week I had an even tougher time. I've read over and over again that it's really important to get just the right amount of sleep to help aid weight loss, and my body wanting to be awake all night and sleep during the day wasn't helping. I tried to trick my brain into thinking it was "nap time" at bed time, but I figured out the ruse after only two nights and was back to lying awake at night wondering why Logan on "Veronica Mars" stays in a suite at the Neptune Grand Hotel and doesn't just get an apartment somewhere. Obviously he can afford it! I'm serious. I was pondering this one night at 2:30 am. I have issues.
But I did go to the gym every day this week (except Saturday); it was my escape. I can put on my headphones, ignore everyone, watch Jersey Shore and roll my eyes at Ronnie and Sammi's ridiculously destructive relationship or when The Situation refers to himself in the 3rd person (side note: both of those happen a LOT and sometimes my contact almost falls out from rolling my eyes so much, but I keep watching). I can watch other fat people working really hard to lose weight on any number of diet shows that are on right now. "I Used to Be Fat" on MTV, "Heavy" on A&E, "Biggest Loser" on NBC. When I'm on the floor doing weights I try not to rock out too hard to my gym play list (Mos Def is awesome for that). Not that I care what other people think when they see me; I spend my time judging others, why shouldn't they spend their time judging me? I probably deserve it. My hair is pretty ridiculous most of the time. Also, I wear a black sports bra under white t-shirts. Classy!
Week two ended with a barrage of drinks (we call them NJ's Soy Rides: chocolate almond milk, whipped cream vodka and creme de cacao. You're welcome.) way too much guacamole and a pound gain. I wasn't going to make the same mistake this week. On Wednesday Elyse (my gym buddy) and I had an at-home happy hour, making our own margaritas, stuffed jalapenos with vegan cream cheese, and delicious halved tomatoes filled with mozzarella, tofu, arugula and balsamic vinaigrette. So so good. And right now I have so much amazing homemade food that I don't know what to eat first. It's a delicious problem to have. I haven't purchased my lunch in days and have enough food stocked up that I could bring my own food to work every day for the foreseeable future. That helps the bank account and the waist line.
Sunday night, the night before weigh in, I take a risk and go over to a friend's house for movies and video games. There's a Chipotle on the way to the house and I found a website that allows me to click what I want to eat and it tell me exactly what I'm getting into. Amazing. I even have a (small) glass of red wine to wash it down.
Monday morning: BAM! 2.5 pounds down! I'm now 192.1 and the smallest I've been for at least seven or eight years. I'll need a belt soon for my new skinny pants I just bought in September. Another five pounds and I'm going to try on my goal jeans again. Hopes are low, but they're also what keep me going. The other thing keeping me going? Knowing that I'll be one skinny bitch.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Week two...
...or how I learned to stop complaining and just accept it already.
1/24-1/31
I hate week two. Week one was great, I did what I should and what I could and lost almost three pounds. Week two almost always yanks the rug out from under me. Probably because I'm skinnier now that rug is more easily pulled.
Foods go into my calorie counter, energy and waste come out. Ew, I know, but that's the way it is. I'm allowed 1,450 calories a day based on my age, height, weight, lifestyle and goal weight. If I work out I'm allowed more to cover the difference. This week, while I was counting, a couple days I was just watching the number go higher and higher. In order to maintain my current weight I should be eating 2,400 calories a day. Sometimes I wonder how that's even possible and how ridiculously lost and confused and hungry I was to have gained so much weight so many times.
But I'm adding things into my app and all of a sudden I've eaten 1,800 calories without making it to the gym that day (yeah, that happened this week, damn happy hour) and I can't believe how quickly it all adds up.
I went to the gym six times this week. I alternated cardio and resistance. I ran intervals on the treadmill and sweated it up on the elliptical. I upped my weights for my arms and shoulders which are both shockingly weak and something I hope to work on in the near future.
Sure there were a couple off days, but I work retail (standing and walking for eight hours a day, five to seven days a week) and worked my ass off at the gym. Weigh-in day, ready for the twist? Gained a pound. Ugh, I'm like a true life scene from Romy & Michele's High School Reunion. "I killed myself for eight days and I gained a pound!"
And before you ask, yes. I did deduct 16 pounds for my shoes.
1/24-1/31
I hate week two. Week one was great, I did what I should and what I could and lost almost three pounds. Week two almost always yanks the rug out from under me. Probably because I'm skinnier now that rug is more easily pulled.
Foods go into my calorie counter, energy and waste come out. Ew, I know, but that's the way it is. I'm allowed 1,450 calories a day based on my age, height, weight, lifestyle and goal weight. If I work out I'm allowed more to cover the difference. This week, while I was counting, a couple days I was just watching the number go higher and higher. In order to maintain my current weight I should be eating 2,400 calories a day. Sometimes I wonder how that's even possible and how ridiculously lost and confused and hungry I was to have gained so much weight so many times.
But I'm adding things into my app and all of a sudden I've eaten 1,800 calories without making it to the gym that day (yeah, that happened this week, damn happy hour) and I can't believe how quickly it all adds up.
I went to the gym six times this week. I alternated cardio and resistance. I ran intervals on the treadmill and sweated it up on the elliptical. I upped my weights for my arms and shoulders which are both shockingly weak and something I hope to work on in the near future.
Sure there were a couple off days, but I work retail (standing and walking for eight hours a day, five to seven days a week) and worked my ass off at the gym. Weigh-in day, ready for the twist? Gained a pound. Ugh, I'm like a true life scene from Romy & Michele's High School Reunion. "I killed myself for eight days and I gained a pound!"
And before you ask, yes. I did deduct 16 pounds for my shoes.
Week one (again)
1/17-1/23
So many weight loss 'journeys' and so many first weeks. Fewer second weeks, but that's for another time. I now weigh 196.4. That's the 20 pounds we talked about earlier (plus one, which isn't bad for 4 months of maintaining!). I want to weigh 162 pounds. That will be the smallest I've been since 9th or 10th grade, which does make it daunting, but I try not to think of it like that. I think: I want to hit 190. That's it. That's my first goal.
This week one went well. I put every single little bitty (but nothing's bitty, that's why I'm FAT) thing I ate into my calorie counter. You'd be surprised how just the act of putting something into the app can be such a pain in my ass I'll decide against whatever I'm going to eat. Some foods I won't put in at all, like the tiny red apple I ate on my break. Please, those 40 calories aren't going to be the reason I don't lose any weight this week. If anything it's the mini-handful of chocolate chips I have one (or two or three) times a day.
Speaking of chocolate, of course I picked my 'first week' as the week of the Chocolate Fest at the Convention Center. I've gone four years in a row now and it's amazing. Free wine tasting, so many samples of truffles, salted caramels, chocolate martinis, cupcakes and toffees that I literally (yeah, I mean it) do not eat sugar or chocolate for the next three days. Which, coincidentally, is weigh in! I've counted everything, been to the gym five (or six) times, alternating weights and cardio like a good girl so it's time for the moment of truth...
2.8 pounds down! I should go to Chocolate Fest every week.
So many weight loss 'journeys' and so many first weeks. Fewer second weeks, but that's for another time. I now weigh 196.4. That's the 20 pounds we talked about earlier (plus one, which isn't bad for 4 months of maintaining!). I want to weigh 162 pounds. That will be the smallest I've been since 9th or 10th grade, which does make it daunting, but I try not to think of it like that. I think: I want to hit 190. That's it. That's my first goal.
This week one went well. I put every single little bitty (but nothing's bitty, that's why I'm FAT) thing I ate into my calorie counter. You'd be surprised how just the act of putting something into the app can be such a pain in my ass I'll decide against whatever I'm going to eat. Some foods I won't put in at all, like the tiny red apple I ate on my break. Please, those 40 calories aren't going to be the reason I don't lose any weight this week. If anything it's the mini-handful of chocolate chips I have one (or two or three) times a day.
Speaking of chocolate, of course I picked my 'first week' as the week of the Chocolate Fest at the Convention Center. I've gone four years in a row now and it's amazing. Free wine tasting, so many samples of truffles, salted caramels, chocolate martinis, cupcakes and toffees that I literally (yeah, I mean it) do not eat sugar or chocolate for the next three days. Which, coincidentally, is weigh in! I've counted everything, been to the gym five (or six) times, alternating weights and cardio like a good girl so it's time for the moment of truth...
2.8 pounds down! I should go to Chocolate Fest every week.
Losing weight sucks - part deux
Late September 2010. I'm back from vacation but not back into the groove of weight loss. I still go to the gym four or five or six times a week but I start (gasp) hanging out with friends again. I don't use my calorie counter app but after months of eating healthy, it's more of a habit now. Weighing myself weekly (Monday morning) is more of a hindsight rather than a necessity for keeping myself on track. The holidays start coming full force and we all know what that means. There's a lot of baking and cooking and parties and drinking, lord the drinking. I do love a good cocktail.
I LOVE to bake and cook. It wasn't always my favorite, I'd need a glass (or two or three) of wine while trying not to skip an ingredient in the recipe. SPOILER ALERT: I usually did. But this Christmas I found an amazing cookbook: 100 Best Vegan Baking Recipes by a woman from Portland. There are some seriously delicious recipes in there but just because they're vegan (and the way I make them, gluten-free as well) does not make them healthy. There's lots of sugar and vegan butter and cream cheese is just as gnarly calorie and fat wise as the real stuff. Baking the recipes from that book changed my outlook on cooking and I do it as often as possible now. German feasts, eggplant parmesan, I even made lasagna with quinoa noodles and homemade tofu ricotta (thanks Skinny Bitch in the Kitch)! I hadn't had lasagna in over three years. That alone is a travesty.
I know where you think this is going. The new year comes around and I get back on the scale only to be horrified by what I'd done. But that totally didn't happen! I know, twist ending, right?
Of course I didn't lose weight, that would've been ridiculous and my gym buddy probably would have wondered if something nefarious was going on *cough* eating disorder! *cough*. But I weighed exactly the same as I did when I left that morning in September. That alone was a victory. I'd survived the holidays without even trying. Maintaining is a huge deal for me, as my constant battle with weight can attest. I realize now that I will have to work out at least four days a week for the rest of my life if I don't want to gain weight.
But now it was time to start losing again.
I LOVE to bake and cook. It wasn't always my favorite, I'd need a glass (or two or three) of wine while trying not to skip an ingredient in the recipe. SPOILER ALERT: I usually did. But this Christmas I found an amazing cookbook: 100 Best Vegan Baking Recipes by a woman from Portland. There are some seriously delicious recipes in there but just because they're vegan (and the way I make them, gluten-free as well) does not make them healthy. There's lots of sugar and vegan butter and cream cheese is just as gnarly calorie and fat wise as the real stuff. Baking the recipes from that book changed my outlook on cooking and I do it as often as possible now. German feasts, eggplant parmesan, I even made lasagna with quinoa noodles and homemade tofu ricotta (thanks Skinny Bitch in the Kitch)! I hadn't had lasagna in over three years. That alone is a travesty.
I know where you think this is going. The new year comes around and I get back on the scale only to be horrified by what I'd done. But that totally didn't happen! I know, twist ending, right?
Of course I didn't lose weight, that would've been ridiculous and my gym buddy probably would have wondered if something nefarious was going on *cough* eating disorder! *cough*. But I weighed exactly the same as I did when I left that morning in September. That alone was a victory. I'd survived the holidays without even trying. Maintaining is a huge deal for me, as my constant battle with weight can attest. I realize now that I will have to work out at least four days a week for the rest of my life if I don't want to gain weight.
But now it was time to start losing again.
Losing weight sucks.
Okay, so losing weight doesn't suck, losing weight kicks ass! TRYING to lose weight sucks. Trying really hard and failing is even worse. I've lost significant amounts of weight three times in my life. And I'm only 30.
So here's what you need to know.
When I hit puberty I grew up AND out. I didn't get fat first and grow into it, I grew like eight inches but ate way too much, and obviously not healthy food. Recently Weight Watchers switched their point system so fruit isn't worth anything. Some people moaned and groaned but you know what? We're not fat because we eat too much fruit. Yes, apples and oranges do have sugar in them, but so does the ice cream, so do the Doritos, and so do all those delicious, delicious baked goods.
I'm 5'11''. When I was 21 I weighed 206 pounds. I lost 28 pounds and was pleased with the way I looked. Probably could've lost a few (or 10 or 20) more pounds, but I was a comfy and healthy size 12. I moved out and promptly (over the course of 5 years) gained back all of that and THEN SOME. When I was 26 I was (still 5'11", no huge growth spurts left by now...) 225 pounds. Whoa. That is FAT. So I joined a gym (the 24 Hour Fitness I still go to, I love them) and lost just about 30 pounds, I can't remember exactly. Then I quit my job as a waitress (very active) and became a student again (not active). I still went to the gym, but in April 2009 I got MRSA. It was bad. Really bad. It came and went for six months. Doctors and antibiotics and studies and definitely no gym because I was exhausted and in pain all the time. So I got fat again.
March 2010. I weighed 215 pounds. AGAIN. I'm not saying I gained back all 30 pounds in a year, it definitely took longer than that, but the bulk of it happened during those 10 months. I'm not an emotional eater, I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I read, when I watch tv, on my breaks at work. Even though I'm allergic to everything I found loopholes for carbs and sweets and all my other food mistresses.
In April of 2010, the 24 Fitness I go to closed and moved to a brand new building with brand new equipment down the road. The gym I'd been going to (I mean that in very loose terms for the 18 month prior) was a dungeon. It was ghetto. As ghetto as a gym in NW-not-quite-Beaverton-not-quite-Hillsboro can be.
I have a work out buddy; we mostly do weights together but sometimes cardio and we ALWAYS judge people for their too short shorts or lopsided boob jobs. I count calories every day and try to eat enough (I know right, but eating too few but still bad calories has always been my downfall) by keeping track on an app on my Android. My gym is amazing and the people that work there are awesome. I look forward to seeing them and that's a huge motivator to get there in the first place.
Between May and September 2010 I lost exactly 20 pounds. It was my goal to lose just that before I took a road trip to California. I weighed myself the morning I left town and I was right on, to the tenth of a pound. It was awesome. Then came the tricky part.
So here's what you need to know.
When I hit puberty I grew up AND out. I didn't get fat first and grow into it, I grew like eight inches but ate way too much, and obviously not healthy food. Recently Weight Watchers switched their point system so fruit isn't worth anything. Some people moaned and groaned but you know what? We're not fat because we eat too much fruit. Yes, apples and oranges do have sugar in them, but so does the ice cream, so do the Doritos, and so do all those delicious, delicious baked goods.
I'm 5'11''. When I was 21 I weighed 206 pounds. I lost 28 pounds and was pleased with the way I looked. Probably could've lost a few (or 10 or 20) more pounds, but I was a comfy and healthy size 12. I moved out and promptly (over the course of 5 years) gained back all of that and THEN SOME. When I was 26 I was (still 5'11", no huge growth spurts left by now...) 225 pounds. Whoa. That is FAT. So I joined a gym (the 24 Hour Fitness I still go to, I love them) and lost just about 30 pounds, I can't remember exactly. Then I quit my job as a waitress (very active) and became a student again (not active). I still went to the gym, but in April 2009 I got MRSA. It was bad. Really bad. It came and went for six months. Doctors and antibiotics and studies and definitely no gym because I was exhausted and in pain all the time. So I got fat again.
March 2010. I weighed 215 pounds. AGAIN. I'm not saying I gained back all 30 pounds in a year, it definitely took longer than that, but the bulk of it happened during those 10 months. I'm not an emotional eater, I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I read, when I watch tv, on my breaks at work. Even though I'm allergic to everything I found loopholes for carbs and sweets and all my other food mistresses.
In April of 2010, the 24 Fitness I go to closed and moved to a brand new building with brand new equipment down the road. The gym I'd been going to (I mean that in very loose terms for the 18 month prior) was a dungeon. It was ghetto. As ghetto as a gym in NW-not-quite-Beaverton-not-quite-Hillsboro can be.
I have a work out buddy; we mostly do weights together but sometimes cardio and we ALWAYS judge people for their too short shorts or lopsided boob jobs. I count calories every day and try to eat enough (I know right, but eating too few but still bad calories has always been my downfall) by keeping track on an app on my Android. My gym is amazing and the people that work there are awesome. I look forward to seeing them and that's a huge motivator to get there in the first place.
Between May and September 2010 I lost exactly 20 pounds. It was my goal to lose just that before I took a road trip to California. I weighed myself the morning I left town and I was right on, to the tenth of a pound. It was awesome. Then came the tricky part.
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