3/22 - 3/31
...in which I finally stop weighing myself every damn week.
On Thursday I weighed myself and saw that I'd gained a pound. It was stupid of me to weigh myself in the middle of the week and only three days after such a huge win (3.5 pounds for those with poor memories) but I did. Cause I'm a dummy. And the pound gain didn't upset or depress me, I just got annoyed with myself that I would waste my good energy by letting a stupid number get me down. When I got to work I confided with my gym buddy that I had cheated and she told me she had too (neither one of us has great will power, that's how we kept those trim figures for all those years...) and gained a pound also. We decided not to be dummies and stop weighing ourselves so often and focus on our clothes and how they fit, the measurements and the compliments. GOD I love the compliments and I'll get to my very favorite one in a few.
At first we were thinking once a month, but again that will power I know I still don't quite have (though I haven't had a fudgesicle in like 3 days (too much sugar) and I'm dying a little on the inside) I figured I could make it two weeks. Which means weigh-in isn't until April 4th and it seems so far away. Now this decision has a downside too, if I don't lose what I think I should in two weeks I might be a little disappointed, but I also know that I'm working really hard, trying new things and it's definitely paying off.
On Thursday I went to a class (24 SET) that made me sweat more than I've ever sweat. It was gross and smelly. My hair was a nightmare (one sweat soaked strand was sticking straight out of my head, it was actually pretty awesome) and my face was red red red. But I felt good. Exhausted but good. Then Sunday I got to (finally) see a personal trainer. And if I haven't said it before I love him. So adorable and too smart and I got worked really hard again. I hadn't fully healed from the class (my abs were killing me every time I sneezed, coughed or laughed and I do those things a LOT) and here I was doing even more things that made my face red and my hair stick out straight from sweat. Awesome.
So no weigh-in Monday. And it felt good. I felt good. Well, my abs felt better but my shoulders (10 pound dumbbells! And I didn't complain once. Till now. It was HARD) and my quads were a wreck. I like to mix it up. Later in the week it's my hamstrings. Thank god for the handicap bar next to the toilet. But today at work I was talking with a customer about quitting sugar (or trying) and then something else happened (I only remembered the most important part of the conversation you see) and THEN she told me I was a "skinny minnie" and to shut up! It was the best thing anyone's ever said to me (for real she's awesome and I love her) and I freaked out. Then my gym buddy told me I looked tall and not jiggly at all running on the treadmill this morning. Another win for NJ!
So no matter what the scale says on Monday (especially cause it's the day after my Mario Kart party... I'm only allowing myself one bottle of wine all day. Maybe a giant beer, I haven't decided yet) I know I'm pushing and working and doing the best thing I can for my body and my soul. And the rest of the world. You'll thank me when you officially meet Skinny Nicole. It'll be worth the wait, trust me.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Week nine
3/15 - 3/21
I can't wait till next week so I can stop spelling out the numbers. Bet you didn't know that was a rule, right? One through nine are spelled, 10 and up and just numeric. "The More You Know..."
Okay, grammar lesson over time to talk Skinny Nicole. Cause yes, I've finally had a week to be proud of. My body realized after nine weeks that I wasn't going to give up no matter how much bullshit it threw at me. Two pound gain?! Too bad, I'm still working my ass off (LITERALLY, ha!) and I'm going to reach my goal. Think a fat ass can dissuade me from going to the gym? It's just going to make me work harder so suck it.
And all my hard work totally paid off this week. 3.5 pounds down. In one week. Damn right. 189.7 to 186.2 and I think it's the best jump I've had in weeks. Months even. It seems like almost too much, but in the last 3 weeks I've lost a total of 4 pounds so it's not really that impressive. But it also means that I've lost 30 pounds since starting back in May of 2010 and that I'm still on track to hit my goal of 55 pounds lost by August of this year. Of course, I'm expecting a lot of backlash next week for having such a good week now, but I'm prepared and I'm willing to mix it up a little to keep that from happening.
But no matter what, I feel good and I look better than I have in years. And that is seriously worth all the time and energy spent. Also, can I say again how much I love my gym? It's like a refuge from work and home. Plus there's cable.
Now it's time to hit said gym and for my favorite past time, staring at others while they work out and silently judging them for the choices they've made. Those shorts? Oh honey, no.
I can't wait till next week so I can stop spelling out the numbers. Bet you didn't know that was a rule, right? One through nine are spelled, 10 and up and just numeric. "The More You Know..."
Okay, grammar lesson over time to talk Skinny Nicole. Cause yes, I've finally had a week to be proud of. My body realized after nine weeks that I wasn't going to give up no matter how much bullshit it threw at me. Two pound gain?! Too bad, I'm still working my ass off (LITERALLY, ha!) and I'm going to reach my goal. Think a fat ass can dissuade me from going to the gym? It's just going to make me work harder so suck it.
And all my hard work totally paid off this week. 3.5 pounds down. In one week. Damn right. 189.7 to 186.2 and I think it's the best jump I've had in weeks. Months even. It seems like almost too much, but in the last 3 weeks I've lost a total of 4 pounds so it's not really that impressive. But it also means that I've lost 30 pounds since starting back in May of 2010 and that I'm still on track to hit my goal of 55 pounds lost by August of this year. Of course, I'm expecting a lot of backlash next week for having such a good week now, but I'm prepared and I'm willing to mix it up a little to keep that from happening.
But no matter what, I feel good and I look better than I have in years. And that is seriously worth all the time and energy spent. Also, can I say again how much I love my gym? It's like a refuge from work and home. Plus there's cable.
Now it's time to hit said gym and for my favorite past time, staring at others while they work out and silently judging them for the choices they've made. Those shorts? Oh honey, no.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Not about weight.
I'm probably one of the whitest girls in America. Not just because I live in Oregon and see little to no sunlight nine to ten months out of the year. I mean like white, white. I have very little rhythm, no ass to speak of and I speak like a Valley Girl. Totally.
But I love music. Most all kinds of music, as long as it's good and I can appreciate it. Classical, rock, hip-hop, even some country. Now I'm on the B.o.B. bandwagon- he's just so adorable. And I've always been a Mos Def fan. I know, he's rap for white people, but still.
My first introduction to hip-hop and rap was in 1994 with Mr Nate Dogg and Mr Warren G singing about driving around California looking for some ladies and finding trouble instead. It was a seriously awesome song and I still love it. I just heard (thanks social media) that Nate Dogg has died, and at only 41 years old. When I rediscovered the song a year or so ago, I stumbled upon the Regulate (song) website on Wikipedia (my usual source for information) and thought it was pretty hilarious. Of course I didn't think anyone else would remember the song or appreciate it so many years later, but now, after a celebrity has died it becomes okay to admit you liked the more ridiculous aspects of their careers. Michael Jackson and Man in the Mirror springs to mind. No one admitted to liking that song when he was alive but the day he died and for months after they played it non-stop.
So I just thought I would share the tongue in cheek explanation of one of my favorite songs. Bonus points to the author for using the word surreptitiously.
And RIP Nate Dogg.
But I love music. Most all kinds of music, as long as it's good and I can appreciate it. Classical, rock, hip-hop, even some country. Now I'm on the B.o.B. bandwagon- he's just so adorable. And I've always been a Mos Def fan. I know, he's rap for white people, but still.
My first introduction to hip-hop and rap was in 1994 with Mr Nate Dogg and Mr Warren G singing about driving around California looking for some ladies and finding trouble instead. It was a seriously awesome song and I still love it. I just heard (thanks social media) that Nate Dogg has died, and at only 41 years old. When I rediscovered the song a year or so ago, I stumbled upon the Regulate (song) website on Wikipedia (my usual source for information) and thought it was pretty hilarious. Of course I didn't think anyone else would remember the song or appreciate it so many years later, but now, after a celebrity has died it becomes okay to admit you liked the more ridiculous aspects of their careers. Michael Jackson and Man in the Mirror springs to mind. No one admitted to liking that song when he was alive but the day he died and for months after they played it non-stop.
So I just thought I would share the tongue in cheek explanation of one of my favorite songs. Bonus points to the author for using the word surreptitiously.
And RIP Nate Dogg.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Week eight (and a little bit of seven)
3/8 - 3/14 (and 3/1 - 3/7)
I didn't write last week on purpose. Usually I don't abide by the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" rule. In fact it's quite the opposite. I will usually only say nice things behind backs (if I like you) or not at all (if I don't). I know, that doesn't make sense, and there is a bit of hyperbole in there (cause I speak mostly in hyperbole and other forms of exaggeration), of course I say nice things to the people I like, how else would I keep them around? But I digress. Week seven was an asshole and I didn't want to talk about it then. I'll talk about it now.
The first week of March was my "mix-it-up" week. I went to the gym in the morning. In. The. Morning. Anyone who has ever met me knows that mornings are not my thing. I tend to grunt, swear and make a lot of ridiculous noises and hand gestures. So I try not to venture out of my house before 10am, for the good of the people. But something had to be done. I was STUCK in the 190s. You know because you've been reading. Or you know because I just told you. But I was stuck and if working out in the morning was going to help then I was going to do it. I pushed up my intervals and only did 35 minute workouts. I upped my weights and reps when I did strength training. I even had to buy weight lifting gloves for my baby soft hands that have never seen a day of hard labor. Well, one day. I got paid cash and it was worth it. And while I didn't watch my calories like a giant overweight hawk I did keep it in check and within range.
So when I got on the scale Monday morning (the only indulgence of the week was the maybe two or three margaritas the day before) and I'd GAINED two pounds I got really pissed. I didn't even gain two pounds over Christmas. I know (I KNOW) muscle weighs more than fat. I know (I KNOW) my body will take a while to adjust. I know (I KNOW) I shouldn't let it get me down. But it does. And it did. When someone has 60 pounds of fat on their body, HALF of which they're trying to lose, putting on two pounds of muscle isn't the problem. It just isn't. But in the long run (ugh, I hate running) I couldn't let it bug me too much. I flung myself onto my bed Disney princess style (with more swearing of course) and grumbled (and swore) for a while but then decided it was time to move on and keep trying. 192.1 lbs means there's nowhere to go but down.
Problem was, on my way to margaritas and Mexican food on Sunday I'd fallen really badly down my driveway. Stupid moss. Nature and I already have a pretty tough time together without it actively trying to hurt me. But time + tragedy = humor, right? It's already getting to be pretty funny when I think about how I must've looked. I did fake man splits when I fell, spilled water all over myself, broke my key chain and my shoe flew off. Of course I yelled a swear and it echoed through the neighborhood. As I type now, nine days later, my foot wound still hurts and is painful to the touch. Because of the weird angle at which I slammed to the ground, my whole right leg was sore and along with the wounds I skipped the gym for two days, just watched really closely what I ate.
Then I did what I wanted for the rest of the week. If I wanted to work out at night I did. If I wanted to do strength training, I did. I bought some "old-man-pooping-drink" (or Metamucil, mmm... orange flavor) to help with my fiber intake. I bought strawberries and made lentil soup, but still wasn't getting enough fiber. I started taking my vitamins again. I made sure there were always vegetables in the house and started eating quinoa again. I've missed quinoa, it's SO good if you haven't had it. So much protein and it goes with pretty much anything, I enjoy it with sauteed veggies and a little chicken sausage. Delicious. And the trick is to make enough so I have lunch at work the next day. If I forget lunch at work I'm pretty much screwed, I don't have the calories (or cash) to spend on anything that's not homemade.
I tried, but I didn't overdo it. Trying to lose weight is such a bitch. There's so many emotions that go along with it. Mostly guilt and anger, but for those split seconds when the scale shows some progress, it's (almost) all worth it. Yes, clothes fit better (I have to wash the "skinny" (not actually skinny) jeans I bought just so they'll fit me, I've gone down two sizes and I can just pick a Large up off the rack knowing it will fit, it's wonderful), I have an omnipresent collarbone - side note: there are WAY too many pretty, skinny girls with really bad posture. Is it so things don't stick out weird? Is it to showcase boobs? Hide a non-existent gut? I'm confused and you need to stand up straight - and I am rocking short hair like I never thought I could, but it's nice to see the results ON THE SCALE.
Monday morning. Finally results. Finally in the 180s. Yes it's 189.7 but I could NOT care less. It says 18- at the beginning of my weight and I'm on my way again to being "normal" for my height. Only 10 more pounds till that milestone. And till I weigh as much as my youngest brother. And that's more exciting than any number on the scale.
But I'll get into that next week.
I didn't write last week on purpose. Usually I don't abide by the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" rule. In fact it's quite the opposite. I will usually only say nice things behind backs (if I like you) or not at all (if I don't). I know, that doesn't make sense, and there is a bit of hyperbole in there (cause I speak mostly in hyperbole and other forms of exaggeration), of course I say nice things to the people I like, how else would I keep them around? But I digress. Week seven was an asshole and I didn't want to talk about it then. I'll talk about it now.
The first week of March was my "mix-it-up" week. I went to the gym in the morning. In. The. Morning. Anyone who has ever met me knows that mornings are not my thing. I tend to grunt, swear and make a lot of ridiculous noises and hand gestures. So I try not to venture out of my house before 10am, for the good of the people. But something had to be done. I was STUCK in the 190s. You know because you've been reading. Or you know because I just told you. But I was stuck and if working out in the morning was going to help then I was going to do it. I pushed up my intervals and only did 35 minute workouts. I upped my weights and reps when I did strength training. I even had to buy weight lifting gloves for my baby soft hands that have never seen a day of hard labor. Well, one day. I got paid cash and it was worth it. And while I didn't watch my calories like a giant overweight hawk I did keep it in check and within range.
So when I got on the scale Monday morning (the only indulgence of the week was the maybe two or three margaritas the day before) and I'd GAINED two pounds I got really pissed. I didn't even gain two pounds over Christmas. I know (I KNOW) muscle weighs more than fat. I know (I KNOW) my body will take a while to adjust. I know (I KNOW) I shouldn't let it get me down. But it does. And it did. When someone has 60 pounds of fat on their body, HALF of which they're trying to lose, putting on two pounds of muscle isn't the problem. It just isn't. But in the long run (ugh, I hate running) I couldn't let it bug me too much. I flung myself onto my bed Disney princess style (with more swearing of course) and grumbled (and swore) for a while but then decided it was time to move on and keep trying. 192.1 lbs means there's nowhere to go but down.
Problem was, on my way to margaritas and Mexican food on Sunday I'd fallen really badly down my driveway. Stupid moss. Nature and I already have a pretty tough time together without it actively trying to hurt me. But time + tragedy = humor, right? It's already getting to be pretty funny when I think about how I must've looked. I did fake man splits when I fell, spilled water all over myself, broke my key chain and my shoe flew off. Of course I yelled a swear and it echoed through the neighborhood. As I type now, nine days later, my foot wound still hurts and is painful to the touch. Because of the weird angle at which I slammed to the ground, my whole right leg was sore and along with the wounds I skipped the gym for two days, just watched really closely what I ate.
Then I did what I wanted for the rest of the week. If I wanted to work out at night I did. If I wanted to do strength training, I did. I bought some "old-man-pooping-drink" (or Metamucil, mmm... orange flavor) to help with my fiber intake. I bought strawberries and made lentil soup, but still wasn't getting enough fiber. I started taking my vitamins again. I made sure there were always vegetables in the house and started eating quinoa again. I've missed quinoa, it's SO good if you haven't had it. So much protein and it goes with pretty much anything, I enjoy it with sauteed veggies and a little chicken sausage. Delicious. And the trick is to make enough so I have lunch at work the next day. If I forget lunch at work I'm pretty much screwed, I don't have the calories (or cash) to spend on anything that's not homemade.
I tried, but I didn't overdo it. Trying to lose weight is such a bitch. There's so many emotions that go along with it. Mostly guilt and anger, but for those split seconds when the scale shows some progress, it's (almost) all worth it. Yes, clothes fit better (I have to wash the "skinny" (not actually skinny) jeans I bought just so they'll fit me, I've gone down two sizes and I can just pick a Large up off the rack knowing it will fit, it's wonderful), I have an omnipresent collarbone - side note: there are WAY too many pretty, skinny girls with really bad posture. Is it so things don't stick out weird? Is it to showcase boobs? Hide a non-existent gut? I'm confused and you need to stand up straight - and I am rocking short hair like I never thought I could, but it's nice to see the results ON THE SCALE.
Monday morning. Finally results. Finally in the 180s. Yes it's 189.7 but I could NOT care less. It says 18- at the beginning of my weight and I'm on my way again to being "normal" for my height. Only 10 more pounds till that milestone. And till I weigh as much as my youngest brother. And that's more exciting than any number on the scale.
But I'll get into that next week.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Week six...
...in which I'm pretty sure my body is messing with me.
2/22 - 2/28
Because of my minimal 0.6 pounds lost last week, despite keeping my calories around 1450 every day, I upped my foods this week to allow 1680 calories a day. That's suitable for a pound and a half loss a week and that's more than what I'm aiming for. And more than what I've been losing.
Yeah, I slacked off a little (just a little!) at the gym this week too. I went five times, but only once or twice even broke a sweat. I just wasn't feeling it. So am I surprised I only lost 0.2 pounds this week? A little. Mostly I'm annoyed that I'm still in the 190s two weeks later. So how did I celebrate my 0.2 pound loss? By drinking beers and eating curly fries of course! But they were the best beers and the best curly fries I've ever had. Ever. I will request Lagunitas (Brown Shugga' mmm), Deschutes (Red Chair NWPA delish) and some deep fried potatoes be sent into my tomb with me, a la the pharaohs and their cats.
I was bad last night. But I plan to be good the rest of the week. I'm upping my reps and my weights, I'll make sure to keep my heart rate up and sweat more. I still refuse to run more than 3 minutes at a time though. I hate that shit.
2/22 - 2/28
Because of my minimal 0.6 pounds lost last week, despite keeping my calories around 1450 every day, I upped my foods this week to allow 1680 calories a day. That's suitable for a pound and a half loss a week and that's more than what I'm aiming for. And more than what I've been losing.
Yeah, I slacked off a little (just a little!) at the gym this week too. I went five times, but only once or twice even broke a sweat. I just wasn't feeling it. So am I surprised I only lost 0.2 pounds this week? A little. Mostly I'm annoyed that I'm still in the 190s two weeks later. So how did I celebrate my 0.2 pound loss? By drinking beers and eating curly fries of course! But they were the best beers and the best curly fries I've ever had. Ever. I will request Lagunitas (Brown Shugga' mmm), Deschutes (Red Chair NWPA delish) and some deep fried potatoes be sent into my tomb with me, a la the pharaohs and their cats.
I was bad last night. But I plan to be good the rest of the week. I'm upping my reps and my weights, I'll make sure to keep my heart rate up and sweat more. I still refuse to run more than 3 minutes at a time though. I hate that shit.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Week five!
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.)
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.)
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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