I've been such a slacker with exercise. I really do want to be fit and active -- I love biking, hiking, all the water sports, and more -- but I can't seem to find the energy and motivation to get out there and get back in shape. Exercise is just no fun for me at this level (i.e. complete lack) of fitness.
Does anyone have a suggestion for how to get over the hump and become consistent with this habit?
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
pleased monday
I lost another eight-tenths of a pound this week. It may be slow, but at least it's the right direction.
Here's my weekly weigh-in chart.
Here's my weekly weigh-in chart.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
m-o-n-e-y !!!
During a bout of insomnia the other night, I decided to start tackling the pile of clutter I call my office. I pulled out an old file box that's been carted from home to home with me but hasn't been opened for 10 years or so. I never got rid of it because I knew there were important documents in there.
So I looked, and there WERE important documents in there!
I found a statement of investment with a mutual fund that I had entirely forgotten about. This is very wrong and irresponsible behavior.
I received a gift of about $2500 when I was 18, and my boyfriend at the time helped me pick out a mutual fund to park it in. My file contains all of the statements that I dutifully read and organized during the time that I was in college. I did everything right, just as my mother taught me.
My mom is the most organized person you will ever meet. Literally. A few weeks ago, I mentioned going to my grandma's birthday party. Since it was to be a surprise, and my mom and I were the ones to take Grandma there, Mom had to rely on other folks to set it up. She had everything needed for the party packed in boxes labeled with typed inventory lists that she delivered ahead of time. Jars and containers inside the boxes were also labeled, even though the contents were unquestionably clear. She even had different agendas for everyone helping that said things like: 3:00 arrive at site, 3:05 set up chairs, 3:15 put tablecloths on tables, 3:20 unpack box #4, 3:35 break, etc. On top of this, each person received an emailed list of instructions that rivaled Tolstoy's War and Peace in length. All this for a party of about 25 people.
So it is expected that I carry out my life in a put-together, responsible fashion. I did that for a while. But I take after my father more than my mother, and he is the most DISorganized person you will ever meet. Really.
My natural tendency is not for planning and following schedules and the like. My true nature reared its ugly head after I got out of college, and my life fell to pieces. I try to keep those pieces together, but I must admit it's a struggle. Sometimes I lose track of one thing or another and have to go urgently scrambling after it, begging and pleading for things to work out, while I momentarily neglect everything else in my life.
This is not a recommended way to live. I have enough sense to know that, but I have not been able to convince this mind of mine to change for any appreciable length of time.
So I found this thing I had lost. When I called the fund, I found out that their address of record for me is a place I never even lived. It is the apartment I was supposed to move into when I left college. See, Mom? I was organized for a short period of time. Before I moved away, I arranged a change of address. <pat on back>
But since I didn't move into that address, the fund had no way of obtaining a new address from me. And since I didn't receive any more statements to add to my file in the little box I didn't use anymore, I plumb forgot about it.
My heart dropped when I heard that there was no record of my account number. Then my spirits soared when I found out that the problem was simply that account numbers had changed sometime during the last ten years while I was neglecting the details of my life. And now I am on Cloud Nine because it turns out that that original $2500 is now worth over $13000!
Acknowledgements: Thank you, Mom, for trying to instill some sense of responsibility and orderliness in me. I have you to thank for any semblance of order that is found in my life. And thank you, High-School-Sweetheart, for helping me pick a mutual fund that has far outperformed any other funds I've chosen myself to build on the very small sums of toiled-for cash I've managed to set aside in the years since.
So I looked, and there WERE important documents in there!
I found a statement of investment with a mutual fund that I had entirely forgotten about. This is very wrong and irresponsible behavior.
I received a gift of about $2500 when I was 18, and my boyfriend at the time helped me pick out a mutual fund to park it in. My file contains all of the statements that I dutifully read and organized during the time that I was in college. I did everything right, just as my mother taught me.
My mom is the most organized person you will ever meet. Literally. A few weeks ago, I mentioned going to my grandma's birthday party. Since it was to be a surprise, and my mom and I were the ones to take Grandma there, Mom had to rely on other folks to set it up. She had everything needed for the party packed in boxes labeled with typed inventory lists that she delivered ahead of time. Jars and containers inside the boxes were also labeled, even though the contents were unquestionably clear. She even had different agendas for everyone helping that said things like: 3:00 arrive at site, 3:05 set up chairs, 3:15 put tablecloths on tables, 3:20 unpack box #4, 3:35 break, etc. On top of this, each person received an emailed list of instructions that rivaled Tolstoy's War and Peace in length. All this for a party of about 25 people.
So it is expected that I carry out my life in a put-together, responsible fashion. I did that for a while. But I take after my father more than my mother, and he is the most DISorganized person you will ever meet. Really.
My natural tendency is not for planning and following schedules and the like. My true nature reared its ugly head after I got out of college, and my life fell to pieces. I try to keep those pieces together, but I must admit it's a struggle. Sometimes I lose track of one thing or another and have to go urgently scrambling after it, begging and pleading for things to work out, while I momentarily neglect everything else in my life.
This is not a recommended way to live. I have enough sense to know that, but I have not been able to convince this mind of mine to change for any appreciable length of time.
So I found this thing I had lost. When I called the fund, I found out that their address of record for me is a place I never even lived. It is the apartment I was supposed to move into when I left college. See, Mom? I was organized for a short period of time. Before I moved away, I arranged a change of address. <pat on back>
But since I didn't move into that address, the fund had no way of obtaining a new address from me. And since I didn't receive any more statements to add to my file in the little box I didn't use anymore, I plumb forgot about it.
My heart dropped when I heard that there was no record of my account number. Then my spirits soared when I found out that the problem was simply that account numbers had changed sometime during the last ten years while I was neglecting the details of my life. And now I am on Cloud Nine because it turns out that that original $2500 is now worth over $13000!
Acknowledgements: Thank you, Mom, for trying to instill some sense of responsibility and orderliness in me. I have you to thank for any semblance of order that is found in my life. And thank you, High-School-Sweetheart, for helping me pick a mutual fund that has far outperformed any other funds I've chosen myself to build on the very small sums of toiled-for cash I've managed to set aside in the years since.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
a whole new light
The other day one of my friends was at my house, and she casually mentioned that she had once weighed 250 pounds. I did not know this about her. She's my height and wears an 8 or 6 now.
I have another friend who is as thin as a rail. She's the singer in a band and looks pretty darn good on stage. She used to be fat too. Look at her old photos if you don't believe me.
These are two people who I met after they were thin. When each one revealed the fact of her former self, I was kind of taken aback. My first thought was no, not this person. It's like I almost couldn't wrap my mind around it. Then I started seeing each of them in a whole new light. They both won this fight I'm fighting, and that's pretty amazing. To lose many many pounds and keep them off year after year is no small feat.
But also: I get a feeling of relief from hearing this information. I can take a big sigh and let go of all those uncomfortable feelings I have about myself, if only for a moment. Because this person has been there. She can understand and relate to what I'm going through, and, honestly, that's kind of comforting.
It's also very inspiring. Here are two people in my own world who have been successful with this. Maybe that means there's hope for me too.
I have another friend who is as thin as a rail. She's the singer in a band and looks pretty darn good on stage. She used to be fat too. Look at her old photos if you don't believe me.
These are two people who I met after they were thin. When each one revealed the fact of her former self, I was kind of taken aback. My first thought was no, not this person. It's like I almost couldn't wrap my mind around it. Then I started seeing each of them in a whole new light. They both won this fight I'm fighting, and that's pretty amazing. To lose many many pounds and keep them off year after year is no small feat.
But also: I get a feeling of relief from hearing this information. I can take a big sigh and let go of all those uncomfortable feelings I have about myself, if only for a moment. Because this person has been there. She can understand and relate to what I'm going through, and, honestly, that's kind of comforting.
It's also very inspiring. Here are two people in my own world who have been successful with this. Maybe that means there's hope for me too.
Monday, April 16, 2007
contented monday
I lost a pound this week. Honestly, I was secretly hoping for more since last week wasn't so great, but I'll take it.
It's one more step in the right direction so I'm content.
Here's my weekly weigh-in chart again.
It's one more step in the right direction so I'm content.
Here's my weekly weigh-in chart again.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
map my walk, bike, jog
I imagine everyone's already tried this utility, but I'll write about it anyway because it's just so much fun.
The Map My Run site uses google maps to calculate the distance you moved. Marked running trails are great, but the ones around here sure can be boring. There's a 3-mile one within walking distance of my house, but I really prefer to walk through the neighborhoods or along the bayou because it's just more interesting. I actually don't really care so much about distance, but it is fun to go on the mapping site from time to time to see how far I've gone and get an idea of how fast I'm moving.
These days I haven't been walking for long times; I used to head out of the house and just move for an hour and a half or two. It was times like those that it was interesting to log on and see how far I travelled.
You can also put in your time and get your pace and speed. It'll estimate the number of calories you burned if you input your weight, height, gender and age. Of course, that part wouldn't be anywhere near accurate if you're using the site to find your biking or rollerblading or skipping distances.
If I ever knock the dust off my bike or start jogging again, this tool will be so much fun to use to find my distance and average pace so I can see how I'm improving. Yay for Map My Run!
The Map My Run site uses google maps to calculate the distance you moved. Marked running trails are great, but the ones around here sure can be boring. There's a 3-mile one within walking distance of my house, but I really prefer to walk through the neighborhoods or along the bayou because it's just more interesting. I actually don't really care so much about distance, but it is fun to go on the mapping site from time to time to see how far I've gone and get an idea of how fast I'm moving.
These days I haven't been walking for long times; I used to head out of the house and just move for an hour and a half or two. It was times like those that it was interesting to log on and see how far I travelled.
You can also put in your time and get your pace and speed. It'll estimate the number of calories you burned if you input your weight, height, gender and age. Of course, that part wouldn't be anywhere near accurate if you're using the site to find your biking or rollerblading or skipping distances.
If I ever knock the dust off my bike or start jogging again, this tool will be so much fun to use to find my distance and average pace so I can see how I'm improving. Yay for Map My Run!
Saturday, April 14, 2007
indulgences
That darn Costco! I've been betrayed again!
First, they took away my beloved Neutrogena facial peel. I try to use this twice a week, and my skin has never been smoother. It was a mere $40 for two jars, but now I have to pay a whole $25 for one jar because you-know-who stopped carrying it.
Then they started offering some delicious no-name vegetable patties. Yum! They're made with just vegetables and sunflower seeds and wheat or something like that to hold it all together. It's a treat to be able to quickly heat up one of these tasty creations and stuff it into a pita with some veggies and avocado, especially when most of your food is made from scratch and you sometimes just want something easy that still approximates the whole foods way of eating you're trying to embrace. Guess what? They're gone now too.
And now? Just when I've gotten used to the luxury of a chilled 10 ounce glass bottle of sparkling Perrier, they take those off the shelf. For the most part I stay away from caffeine and too much artificial stuff, so a mineral water is my treat when I don't feel like plain ol' ordinary flat water. I blame my time spent in Spain for turning me on to sparkling water, which I previously thought was not pleasant at all.
I love the 10 ounce size. It's a perfect amount. And I love the glass bottle because the drink inside stays so wonderfully cool.
Now Costco is stocking half liter plastic bottles, and that's just too much to drink in one sitting. Plus, if you drink it at a leisurely pace, it starts warming up! Gasp! This phenomenon takes away from the whole indulgent experience.
People will make fun of me for having a preference, for bothering to care. But it matters. It matters to me, and it even matters to a few discriminating people I know. At least I think it does since we've discussed similar reasons for drinking soda out of a can. The plastic bottle is so big that we never finish it, and if we come back to it later, it's lost some of its fizz so it's just not as satisfying and tasty. Plus, it warms up faster, and we really don't like that.
So, Costco, if you're listening, please bring back the old Perrier bottles. The new product offends my delicate sensibilities. And if it's not too much trouble can you start stocking the facial peel and vegetable patties again too? Thanks. I heart you.
First, they took away my beloved Neutrogena facial peel. I try to use this twice a week, and my skin has never been smoother. It was a mere $40 for two jars, but now I have to pay a whole $25 for one jar because you-know-who stopped carrying it.
Then they started offering some delicious no-name vegetable patties. Yum! They're made with just vegetables and sunflower seeds and wheat or something like that to hold it all together. It's a treat to be able to quickly heat up one of these tasty creations and stuff it into a pita with some veggies and avocado, especially when most of your food is made from scratch and you sometimes just want something easy that still approximates the whole foods way of eating you're trying to embrace. Guess what? They're gone now too.
And now? Just when I've gotten used to the luxury of a chilled 10 ounce glass bottle of sparkling Perrier, they take those off the shelf. For the most part I stay away from caffeine and too much artificial stuff, so a mineral water is my treat when I don't feel like plain ol' ordinary flat water. I blame my time spent in Spain for turning me on to sparkling water, which I previously thought was not pleasant at all.
I love the 10 ounce size. It's a perfect amount. And I love the glass bottle because the drink inside stays so wonderfully cool.
Now Costco is stocking half liter plastic bottles, and that's just too much to drink in one sitting. Plus, if you drink it at a leisurely pace, it starts warming up! Gasp! This phenomenon takes away from the whole indulgent experience.
People will make fun of me for having a preference, for bothering to care. But it matters. It matters to me, and it even matters to a few discriminating people I know. At least I think it does since we've discussed similar reasons for drinking soda out of a can. The plastic bottle is so big that we never finish it, and if we come back to it later, it's lost some of its fizz so it's just not as satisfying and tasty. Plus, it warms up faster, and we really don't like that.
So, Costco, if you're listening, please bring back the old Perrier bottles. The new product offends my delicate sensibilities. And if it's not too much trouble can you start stocking the facial peel and vegetable patties again too? Thanks. I heart you.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
grace
I'm not a huge video game fan, but I do like me some Dance Dance Revolution (DDR).
I'd love to say the years of dance training I had as a girl are apparent when I play this game, but unfortunately that is just not the case. My moves are uncoordinated and sometimes spastic. No grace here.
But! It's such a great way to work up a sweat and enjoy doing it. That's why it's not unusual for friends to come over to play with me.
The other night, one of my friends, GirlF, was dancing around with the DDR. And, apparently, she's as graceless as I am because she tooted! So caught up in the challenge was she that she let it slip out. Silent but violent, you know the type.
And I didn't know what to do. I can't recall ever having experienced someone else's flatulence as an adult when they didn't own up or even give me a little forewarning to make an escape. I know sometimes there's nothing you can do about the gas; it's coming whether you like it or not. That's the point at which I usually mumble some sort of, "I'm sooo sorry."
But what do you do when it's dealt by someone else? Someone who is not your significant other or a member of your immediate family? Am I supposed to just pretend it didn't happen? Or am I supposed to say, "Dang, girl! What'd you eat for dinner?!"
I chose to reclaim some semblance of grace for our evening and politely breathed through my mouth and acted as if my smell sensors were temporarily out of order while it lingered there for several minutes and on the three occasions after that that I detected the wretched odor. And we both lived happily ever after.
I'd love to say the years of dance training I had as a girl are apparent when I play this game, but unfortunately that is just not the case. My moves are uncoordinated and sometimes spastic. No grace here.
But! It's such a great way to work up a sweat and enjoy doing it. That's why it's not unusual for friends to come over to play with me.
The other night, one of my friends, GirlF, was dancing around with the DDR. And, apparently, she's as graceless as I am because she tooted! So caught up in the challenge was she that she let it slip out. Silent but violent, you know the type.
And I didn't know what to do. I can't recall ever having experienced someone else's flatulence as an adult when they didn't own up or even give me a little forewarning to make an escape. I know sometimes there's nothing you can do about the gas; it's coming whether you like it or not. That's the point at which I usually mumble some sort of, "I'm sooo sorry."
But what do you do when it's dealt by someone else? Someone who is not your significant other or a member of your immediate family? Am I supposed to just pretend it didn't happen? Or am I supposed to say, "Dang, girl! What'd you eat for dinner?!"
I chose to reclaim some semblance of grace for our evening and politely breathed through my mouth and acted as if my smell sensors were temporarily out of order while it lingered there for several minutes and on the three occasions after that that I detected the wretched odor. And we both lived happily ever after.
Monday, April 9, 2007
discouraged monday
Drat. I only went down four tenths of a pound this week.
It was a lazy week for me. I relied on some frozen foods, and I ate out several times. Although I thought I made healthy selections, it appears to have had a negative effect. I also had a lot of diet coke instead of my usual water.
I learned that I need to be more rigorous if I'm going to achieve a size I like in the foreseeable future. Also worth mentioning: I just feel better eating whole foods I prepare myself.
Again, here's my weekly weigh-in chart.
It was a lazy week for me. I relied on some frozen foods, and I ate out several times. Although I thought I made healthy selections, it appears to have had a negative effect. I also had a lot of diet coke instead of my usual water.
I learned that I need to be more rigorous if I'm going to achieve a size I like in the foreseeable future. Also worth mentioning: I just feel better eating whole foods I prepare myself.
Again, here's my weekly weigh-in chart.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
out of breath
One of the consequences of being overweight and out of shape is that embarrassing things happen. No, I'm not talking about farts sneaking out when I bend over or not being able to squeeze into a seat -- those things haven't happened to me yet, at least not when I haven't just eaten a big bowl of beans <wink>; thank Heaven I decided to stop gaining when I did. The things I'm talking about are embarrassing simply because they hurt my pride.
So I was glad the other evening when I climbed the three flights of stairs to a friend's apartment and arrived breathing normally. I know the last time I did it I was huffing and puffing at the top because I remember trying to hide it with deliberate deep and quiet breaths forced in and out through my nose so she wouldn't be thinking fat girl things about me. Which is silly, really, because I am fat. Real fat is not something a person can hide, like they can a few extra pounds with a well-cut pant.
Anyway. I haven't lost much more than a handful of pounds, and my exercise exploits haven't been particularly rigorous. But! It seems to be working. And that's a load off my mind.
So I was glad the other evening when I climbed the three flights of stairs to a friend's apartment and arrived breathing normally. I know the last time I did it I was huffing and puffing at the top because I remember trying to hide it with deliberate deep and quiet breaths forced in and out through my nose so she wouldn't be thinking fat girl things about me. Which is silly, really, because I am fat. Real fat is not something a person can hide, like they can a few extra pounds with a well-cut pant.
Anyway. I haven't lost much more than a handful of pounds, and my exercise exploits haven't been particularly rigorous. But! It seems to be working. And that's a load off my mind.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
two updates: one where i eat my words and the other where i am healed
I eat my words.
In these posts, I whined at length about my hairdressers (yes, that's a plural -- one for cut, one for color). And in the end, I swore off my colorist, ColorWonder.
But, Oh! how I regret that. I was too harsh. Or maybe my new 'do is just so awful that I'm willing to accept ColorWonder, with his lying ways and drugs and all. After all, we don't have to be BFF. I just need him to do my hair.
I went to New Guy. New Guy said wonderful things about the glory that I was to become. New Guy said he would cut six inches off my hair (fine by me since it was way too long already), and he promptly cut off about ten. And those extra four inches are the difference between shoulder- and chin-length.
Now, I don't mind chin-length hair on principle. But, given my current condition (that in which my chin has taken on a mate. Shall we call him "Double"?), a chin-length 'do is just not flattering. Double is shy, and this new nakedness makes him feel so exposed.
But what's worse is that the chin-length tresses were not shaped with any consideration of current fashion. I am now the not-so-proud owner of a bob. Without any texture or layers cut into it, it falls flat on the top and widens at the end where all the pieces come together in one blunt end. It's a triangle-do, if I'm not careful with styling. I know I'd think it's great if I had a toddler at my knee and a baby on my hip, but I don't have either of those things. And I don't think it's great. Because I live in the city, y'all, and I'm required to maintain at least a smidgen of style-a-la-mode (How's that for attempting to use a language I know nothing about?).
And also? Also, New Guy said he would take me from brunette to blonde with highlights that look natural. New Guy gave me highlights that are anything but. They are streaky and amateurish-looking. I've got stripes. Ask BoyGenius if you don't believe me. He understands these things -- the subtle or not-so-subtle differences between a good hair style and a great one -- and he also rates this guy as artless.
If the above testimony doesn't suffice, here's the true test. . . I visited family (suburbia and country dwellers all) right after this was done to me and I got COMPLIMENTS. A lot of them. And, like I said, I would probably like this hairdo if I lived their lifestyle and ran in the same circles. But back here at home, where I must live and work and play, I have gotten ZERO remarks from friends or anyone else. And it certainly couldn't be that nobody's noticed. I mean, TEN INCHES! And brunette to BLONDE! The only conclusion I can come to is that it is very bad indeed, and it would hurt everyone's hearts too much to mention it.
But do you know what the worst part of all this is? One hundred eighty dollars! I'm still dumbfounded that I just swallowed my shock and whipped out that credit card. Why didn't I object? $180 for this? This is not good, and you, New Guy, are an amateur. How dare you charge so much? Do you think you are better than Scissorhands? Better than ColorWonder?
And I'm sorry I didn't get all bitter and wretched and complain about the cut while I was there and insist on a lower price too -- at the time I thought it might grow on me. At least I did tell him outright that I was not loving or even liking his color job since I am 32 now and know that I don't have to pretend I like it. I'm sure that $180 (plus tip, mind you. Apparently I still have things to learn.) will heal any hurt feelings he acquired over my disapproval.
So, Scissorhands, I'm very sorry for cheating on you. Thank you for calling me with your new contact information. I love you and your boring, bitter rants. I will see you ASAP, but first I must earn some money because New Guy took me for everything I had.
And, ColorWonder, I'm not moving on. I take it back. I am eating my words as I write this. I don't care that New Guy (unbidden) confirmed my suspicions that you had fallen off the wagon and had been showing up late. I'll see you soon at one and a half hours past my next appointment time. XO
I am healed.
Last week I wrote about some freak-show-worthy swelling. I'd never experienced anything like it. And I am happy to report that it is gone! All gone. Thank Heaven and the exercise I've been trying to do more of. At least I'll pretend that that's what had an effect (the exercise, not Heaven).
Monday, April 2, 2007
onederful monday
It's a onederful Monday because I'm back in Onederland, and it feels just like home. I LIKE it!
198.6, Baby!
Here's my weekly weigh-in log if you're not bored enough already.
198.6, Baby!
Here's my weekly weigh-in log if you're not bored enough already.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
no april fooling here
When I started this thing I'm doing, I decided to take my measurements once a month. The beginning was only a few weeks ago (March 12th), but I'm going to measure on the 1st from now on, just because it's an easy-to-remember date. Rent? Check. Measure? Check check.
Anyway, I was tempted, so tempted!, to report a bigger loss in inches than I actually observed because I wanted to be amazing and proud and things like that. I wonder if other bloggers feel this way sometimes. Do people embellish the truth just a little to come off more interesting? It's certainly a little tantalizing because, really, nobody would know. I could Get Away With It and so could you. After all, does it really matter? It's just a blog, for Chrissakes.
But! I also made a decision when I started this thing to be honest and real -- no sugar-coating or embellishment. I'm sure I could spin some fanciful stories that make my life seem far more interesting or more important or better in some way than it actually is. But so far I've succeeded in telling the truth, and I'm not going to let a little thing like a waist measurement spoil my blog integrity. Because if you don't have blog integrity, you don't have much in this world. Heheh.
Anyway, just to be sure that I don't feel tempted again I'm going to post a photo of my tape measure during the actual act of measuring my waist from now on.
That's it right there. And I should be proud. I don't have to embellish to make it seem important. That's a 1.25" loss in my waist in 20 days. (And oh wow! my belly skin look gross that close up.)
It's not a miracle number. It's not going to make people say, Wow! How'd she do that? But it's awesome nonetheless. I could still be at 42". Or worse, I could have grown even bigger. But I haven't. I haven't because I'm taking charge of this body, and I am smaller! I am shrinking! No matter how slow or fast, that is a Good Thing.
Here's a chart of my itty bitty progress so far with all the measurements I'm tracking.
Anyway, I was tempted, so tempted!, to report a bigger loss in inches than I actually observed because I wanted to be amazing and proud and things like that. I wonder if other bloggers feel this way sometimes. Do people embellish the truth just a little to come off more interesting? It's certainly a little tantalizing because, really, nobody would know. I could Get Away With It and so could you. After all, does it really matter? It's just a blog, for Chrissakes.
But! I also made a decision when I started this thing to be honest and real -- no sugar-coating or embellishment. I'm sure I could spin some fanciful stories that make my life seem far more interesting or more important or better in some way than it actually is. But so far I've succeeded in telling the truth, and I'm not going to let a little thing like a waist measurement spoil my blog integrity. Because if you don't have blog integrity, you don't have much in this world. Heheh.
Anyway, just to be sure that I don't feel tempted again I'm going to post a photo of my tape measure during the actual act of measuring my waist from now on.
That's it right there. And I should be proud. I don't have to embellish to make it seem important. That's a 1.25" loss in my waist in 20 days. (And oh wow! my belly skin look gross that close up.)
It's not a miracle number. It's not going to make people say, Wow! How'd she do that? But it's awesome nonetheless. I could still be at 42". Or worse, I could have grown even bigger. But I haven't. I haven't because I'm taking charge of this body, and I am smaller! I am shrinking! No matter how slow or fast, that is a Good Thing.
Here's a chart of my itty bitty progress so far with all the measurements I'm tracking.
Friday, March 30, 2007
my boyfriend says i'm sexy
I totally stole that line from Rachel, whose mom says she's cool. I was reading her blog today, and I thought, Oh YEAH?! Well, my BOYFRIEND says I'M s-e-x-y. Take THAT, sweet Rachel! Heheh.
All kidding aside, I wrote the title sarcastically, just as I'm sure Rachel wrote hers, but really? It's true (both of our statements are, I'm sure).
My boyfriend, BoyGenius (because, y'all, he really blows my mind sometimes with his smarts. He is more brighter and cleverer than me, even. Heheh. And I LOVE that.), is to be commended. He definitely deserves some props here.
When I met BoyGenius many moons ago, I was wearing somewhere in the vicinity of a size 10. Today, as you see in my sidebar, I'm wearing 18s. Now that's a dramatic change. He should be thinking, THIS?! This is NOT what I signed up for!
And he probably is. In fact, I know he wants me to lose weight and look like I used to and be more active with him and all that. And I think it's only reasonable for him to want that for me. He's thin and healthy and lively, why shouldn't his mate have the same vitality?
But! He's never, ever said an unkind word about my appearance. Sexy? I know I'm not. I have the photos to prove it. Nonetheless, I get told that I am sexy and cute and pretty and irresistable and all sorts of pleasant things like that on a daily basis.
And that, dear reader, is proof that either he is a genius indeed for saying nice things only, or he loves me truly, truly, truly. Either way, I win!
All kidding aside, I wrote the title sarcastically, just as I'm sure Rachel wrote hers, but really? It's true (both of our statements are, I'm sure).
My boyfriend, BoyGenius (because, y'all, he really blows my mind sometimes with his smarts. He is more brighter and cleverer than me, even. Heheh. And I LOVE that.), is to be commended. He definitely deserves some props here.
When I met BoyGenius many moons ago, I was wearing somewhere in the vicinity of a size 10. Today, as you see in my sidebar, I'm wearing 18s. Now that's a dramatic change. He should be thinking, THIS?! This is NOT what I signed up for!
And he probably is. In fact, I know he wants me to lose weight and look like I used to and be more active with him and all that. And I think it's only reasonable for him to want that for me. He's thin and healthy and lively, why shouldn't his mate have the same vitality?
But! He's never, ever said an unkind word about my appearance. Sexy? I know I'm not. I have the photos to prove it. Nonetheless, I get told that I am sexy and cute and pretty and irresistable and all sorts of pleasant things like that on a daily basis.
And that, dear reader, is proof that either he is a genius indeed for saying nice things only, or he loves me truly, truly, truly. Either way, I win!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
101 things in 1001 days
I stumbled across this from Goobie yesterday, and it inspired me to do my own. I'm so bad at follow-through that this may be just what I need. My 1001 days will expire on Christmas Day of 2009.
If I tackle half of the things on my list, I'll feel pretty darn good. If I manage 75 of them, I think I'll feel like I'm really living my life. And if I do 95 or more, I'll know I'm really taking charge and making things happen. And that's saying something, for a slacker like me.
Here's to the list!
Phew! It was hard to come up with all of those! I'm sure I'm missing something huge that I've always wanted to do, but that's okay. This list will suffice.
If there's no star, it's something I've never done before.
* Things I've done, but they are simple to do. I don't do them often enough.
** Things I've done, but it's been a VERY long time (IMO) or will take some real effort to do again.
If I tackle half of the things on my list, I'll feel pretty darn good. If I manage 75 of them, I think I'll feel like I'm really living my life. And if I do 95 or more, I'll know I'm really taking charge and making things happen. And that's saying something, for a slacker like me.
Here's to the list!
- Apply to grad school.
- Attend a dance class and learn an actual sequence.**
- Audition for Amazing Race.
- Buy a house.
- Buy a new computer.**
- Buy something designer.
- Buy and wear something sexy just for BoyGenius.*
- Call my fave cousin, just for a chat.*
- Canoe or kayak in a fun place.**
- Change a tire, all by myself.
- Complete a bootcamp.
- Crave exercise.**
- Create a family history book.
- Dance (or savor anything) in the rain.
- Dance with BoyGenius.
- Do a real striptease, no laughing or stopping.
- Do the splits.**
- Enter a triathlon.**
- Enter an adventure race.
- Exercise 14 days in a row.
- Fix my car myself.
- Get 30 minutes of early morning sunshine for 14 days.
- Get an A on a "heavy" level Dance, Dance, Revolution song.
- Get off the pill and switch to a non-systemic bc method like NuvaRing or just tracking my cycle a la Taking Charge of Your Fertility.
- Get on the elliptical and ride for 60 minutes.**
- Get professional certifications.
- Get rid of any and all frumpy, unflattering clothes.
- Give BoyGenius a compliment.* DONE!
- Go deep sea fishing.**
- Go on a big weekend away with friends.**
- Go on a cruise.
- Go on a real road trip to see places I've not seen.**
- Go rock climbing.**
- Go snorkeling.**
- Go snow skiing.**
- Go to the dentist.**
- Go white-water rafting.
- Have a firm booty.**
- Have sex in the great outdoors, in a place where there's zero chance of getting caught.
- Hike somewhere beautiful.**
- Hold plank pose 1 minute.**
- Host a well-thought-out dinner party.
- Jog 3 miles, without breaks.**
- Laugh so much it hurts.*
- Learn to sail.
- Like the way I look.
- Love my legs.**
- Lower my cholesterol to 175 or less.
- Make a new friend.**
- Make a short film.
- Make a stranger's head turn.**
- Make homemade tofu.
- Make my mom feel special.*
- Make sushi at home.**
- Organize my closet.**
- Organize my office.** DONE!
- Play tennis.
- Play the lottery.**
- Put together a party or event for just girls.**
- Reconnect with old friends.
- Relax at the pool.*
- Renew passport.
- Ride a horse, even though I'm deathly afraid.**
- Ride a roller coaster.**
- Ride my bike.**
- Save money by eliminating frivolous spending for a month (to start).
- See and hike red rock formations in Utah.
- See local historical homes.
- See New York city.
- Send cousin serving in Afghanistan a note.
- Sew a dress.
- Start a garden.
- Start a profession-related newsletter.
- Start my own business.
- Swim and play at the base of a waterfall.**
- Swim to the opposite shore at the lake.
- Talk myself out of a bad mood.*
- Tell my dad how I feel.**
- Throw a crazy big party.
- Track my spending and develop a realistic budget.
- Travel (anywhere) with BoyGenius.**
- Travel to France.
- Travel to Italy.
- Travel to Spain.**
- Try at least 3 different fresh vegetable juice combinations.
- Vacation with my family.**
- Video chat with mom.
- Visit my brother.**
- Visit farmers' market.**
- Visit my grandma.**
- Wake up early for a week.**
- Watch zero teevee for a week.**
- Wear a bikini, in public.**
- Wear shorts.**
- Wear size 16.**
- Wear size 14.**
- Wear size 12.**
- Wear size 10.**
- Wear size 8.**
- Wear size 6.**
- Work through The Artist's Way.
Phew! It was hard to come up with all of those! I'm sure I'm missing something huge that I've always wanted to do, but that's okay. This list will suffice.
If there's no star, it's something I've never done before.
* Things I've done, but they are simple to do. I don't do them often enough.
** Things I've done, but it's been a VERY long time (IMO) or will take some real effort to do again.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
swollen
I don't recognize this body I'm in.
I've talked a little before about how all this fat makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin, but the past few days seem like another beast entirely. I'm swollen -- puffier, fluffier than usual.
My ankle skin is taut, like a sausage about to burst. I can actually feel it, all the fluid stretching the limits of my outermost layer. A crease has even developed in there. A not-at-all-subtle crease. It's marking the transition from leg to foot (that place where my ankle used to be), and my flesh is horrifyingly bulging above the new demarcation.
Now, I've complained before that my ankles were a little pudgy. When I said that, all I meant was that my ankle bone was a little less prominent than I was used to. But I still HAD ankles! Now they've disappeared altogether!!
I was trying on shoes the other day, and every time I went to look in that little mirror that crops the view to just the lowest fifth of the body (you know the one, the one that highlights with great emphasis this affliction of mine), my heart skipped a beat. It literally went all aflutter at the horror: the state my health must be in for this to happen. And, oh yeah, my stomach turned sour, sour, sour. I was literally sick over it.
I don't know what alarming malfunction in my body is causing this, but there must be a cure. And I'm bound and determined to find it, sooner rather than later.
First experimental treatment to try: exercise. That's right! I'm going to get my blood flowing and my lymph pumping and see if I can't just flush it all away.
I've talked a little before about how all this fat makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin, but the past few days seem like another beast entirely. I'm swollen -- puffier, fluffier than usual.
My ankle skin is taut, like a sausage about to burst. I can actually feel it, all the fluid stretching the limits of my outermost layer. A crease has even developed in there. A not-at-all-subtle crease. It's marking the transition from leg to foot (that place where my ankle used to be), and my flesh is horrifyingly bulging above the new demarcation.
Now, I've complained before that my ankles were a little pudgy. When I said that, all I meant was that my ankle bone was a little less prominent than I was used to. But I still HAD ankles! Now they've disappeared altogether!!
I was trying on shoes the other day, and every time I went to look in that little mirror that crops the view to just the lowest fifth of the body (you know the one, the one that highlights with great emphasis this affliction of mine), my heart skipped a beat. It literally went all aflutter at the horror: the state my health must be in for this to happen. And, oh yeah, my stomach turned sour, sour, sour. I was literally sick over it.
I don't know what alarming malfunction in my body is causing this, but there must be a cure. And I'm bound and determined to find it, sooner rather than later.
First experimental treatment to try: exercise. That's right! I'm going to get my blood flowing and my lymph pumping and see if I can't just flush it all away.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
put down that cookie!
It was Grandma's 80th birthday last week so over the weekend we had a big surprise party for her. She felt so proud and special to have all of her family and long-time friends travel to see her and wish her well. It's always fun to get all the old-timers together and listen to their stories. They're a lively bunch, and all day long we just laugh and laugh at the hijinks of days gone by.
Anyway, here's the point of this post: one of the things that was brought to the party was a basketful of out-of-this-world (or so I heard) chocolate chip cookies. Everyone was raving. And most everyone took a bunch home with them.
The next morning Aunt was teasing Uncle for eating five whole cookies the night before in their hotel room. Hahaha, that's so funny, he's a piggy -- right?
Really, though, I wouldn't have thought anything about it at all if she hadn't commented on it as if it were unusual. I thought his consumption was pretty reasonable. I mean 5 smallish cookies isn't so bad, is it? If it had been me and I were craving them like he was, it might have been the whole stash that disappeared, not just five. It's times like this that I realize that I do have a disturbed relationship with food, and I need to be cognizant of the kinds of situations that bring out the worst of it.
Why can some people naturally listen to their bodies and some people can't (or just don't)? Is it the way we were raised?
Anyway, here's the point of this post: one of the things that was brought to the party was a basketful of out-of-this-world (or so I heard) chocolate chip cookies. Everyone was raving. And most everyone took a bunch home with them.
The next morning Aunt was teasing Uncle for eating five whole cookies the night before in their hotel room. Hahaha, that's so funny, he's a piggy -- right?
Really, though, I wouldn't have thought anything about it at all if she hadn't commented on it as if it were unusual. I thought his consumption was pretty reasonable. I mean 5 smallish cookies isn't so bad, is it? If it had been me and I were craving them like he was, it might have been the whole stash that disappeared, not just five. It's times like this that I realize that I do have a disturbed relationship with food, and I need to be cognizant of the kinds of situations that bring out the worst of it.
Why can some people naturally listen to their bodies and some people can't (or just don't)? Is it the way we were raised?
Monday, March 26, 2007
thankful monday
I'm down another pound since last week. It's not the four pounds of week 1, but I did go out of town over the weekend and participate in several celebrations so I won't complain one bit.
I am thankful for that one pound.
I am thankful for that one pound.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
roni's new weight loss community
Roni, of Weight Watchen fame, is a real weight-loss role model. She lost 70 pounds and has kept it off for over a year. Plus, she shares it all very candidly on her site. She talks about her story and displays photos of every step along the way, including the tummy tuck she had after she lost all the weight. If you haven't already gone over there for some thinspiration, I suggest you do it quick. You'll be passing up cookies and french fries like nobody's business after seeing the transformation she's made.
Now she's gone even further to help people who are trying to follow in her footsteps. She started WeightWatchen Blogs! to give all the losers a place to blog, connect, and give and get support. What a great resource for anyone who's starting a new blog or wants supplement their current blog. Check it out and start your own!
Thanks, Roni, for everything you do!
Now she's gone even further to help people who are trying to follow in her footsteps. She started WeightWatchen Blogs! to give all the losers a place to blog, connect, and give and get support. What a great resource for anyone who's starting a new blog or wants supplement their current blog. Check it out and start your own!
Thanks, Roni, for everything you do!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
the return of a missing hairdresser
You guys are awesome!! Thanks so much for your input; it was exactly what I wanted to hear.
So this morning I got this email from ColorWonder. It's his response to my email saying that I already made an appointment with New Guy so I'm set for this time. I actually hesitated to post it for ten whole people to read, but I decided that it is my duty and obligation to share any further happenings with this story...
I already feel bad about posting the note, but I'm about to feel worse for tearing it apart...
Of course, this is all speculation.
Regardless [sic hehe!], ColorWonder, I'm moving on.
So this morning I got this email from ColorWonder. It's his response to my email saying that I already made an appointment with New Guy so I'm set for this time. I actually hesitated to post it for ten whole people to read, but I decided that it is my duty and obligation to share any further happenings with this story...
please do me a favor. please cancel your appt. normally i wouldn't ask, but [the salon] was stealing from me, thats why i left! also i could really use the money, i am so broke. if you don't want to cancel your appt, i understand. another reason i had difficulty reaching my clients, is [the salon] refused to give me my client's info and previous paperwork. its been terrible, and i am actually speaking to a lawyer about it right now. i will fill you in with all the juicy details...reguardless.
no matter what, i still care about you and be honored to do your do anytime.
sincerely,
[ColorWonder]
I already feel bad about posting the note, but I'm about to feel worse for tearing it apart...
- I probably shouldn't even bother to mention the errors because those are totally beside the point (although some of them are entertaining -- reGUARDless, for example).
- ColorWonder is obviously trying to be extra dramatic and guilt-inducing.
- If ColorWonder really was being stolen from, couldn't he have strategized his exit so that he collected all of his information before leaving? If it was something he planned, he should have had the upper hand. He's left a salon before and taken my contact info as well as my history with the color formula he used each time so why couldn't he do it this time too?
- ColorWonder has had my email address for several years. I would assume that it would be in his computer and easy to find (but maybe that's too logical).
- ColorWonder has even emailed me to get my new address after a recent move so I would think he could look up my email address or mailing address in his archives (again, maybe that's too logical).
- My phone number and address are listed so ColorWonder could have gotten them easily through information if he had really wanted to keep me as a client.
- If ColorWonder couldn't bother to call information, he could have called Scissorhands for my information since they are friends.
- I wonder why so many stylists stay at ColorWonder's salon if people are getting "stolen" from?
- I should mention that ColorWonder has a history of drug use. Recently.
Of course, this is all speculation.
Regardless [sic hehe!], ColorWonder, I'm moving on.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
the case of the missing hairdressers and a quandary
Yesterday I called to make appointments. It is time. It has been four months! since my last cut and color, and my hair is a raggedy mess. And, y'all know a fat girl needs to keep herself up. It's not a simple task to look, um, presentable when your body is fluff all over.
So first I called my stylist, Scissorhands, who I have been going to for six years. He recently moved to a brand new beautiful spa-and-salon type place, and when I called, their number was "no longer in service." After a brief moment of panic, I realized I have resources. Resources! So before bothering him by cell phone, I called my resource (who happens to be friends with the husband of one of Scissorhand's salon buddies) to get the scoop. He quickly confirmed my suspicions; the salon had indeed Gone Under. They shut their doors only last weekend.
I decided to postpone making decisions on the hair-cutting and called the salon of my color guy, ColorWonder. Scissorhands and ColorWonder used to work in the same salon, and I started seeing ColorWonder six years ago too. Of course, being Monday, they weren't answering because that's the day they're closed. I left my kind message and shot off an email to ColorWonder just to see if he's in town and available this week.
By this morning I had decided not to call Scissorhands privately for a cut. Scissorhands gave me amazing, bordering on miracle, haircuts. These cuts practically styled themselves. Literally. I could just wash and let dry or blow dry without tools. This is huge for me with my super-fine and super-straight hair. And I got compliments. On my hair, y'all. These compliments were offered out-of-the-blue and not infrequently. This was, and still is, extraordinary to me.
I was one happy girl, believe you me, after all those years of no real style. It was one boring blunt cut after another in the old days. I actually bought the baloney I was being sold, "Don't EVER let anyone give you layers! Your hair is TOO FINE! TOO STRAIGHT!!" I had had a couple of terribly bad, don't-want-to-remember-the-horror, layered cuts so I believed these lines. Oh, how naive I was!
Anyway, over the years, Scissorhand's cuts have slowly become less amazing and downright ordinary. I keep going back, hoping for the fabulousness of yesteryear, but I never get it. Plus, he's an angry, bitter bore who talks my ear off and needs me to agree with his angry, bitter take on everything. And since my hair is at risk, I always do. I actually have several friends who went to him a time or two and loved their styles but wouldn't go back for the sole reason that his repartee borders on torture. But I, if you haven't figured this out already, must be vain, vain, vain because so far I've been willing to sacrifice an hour for a few months of fabulousness. Since that fabulousness has not been meeting my expectations (which Scissorhands himself set so high), I Made The Decision.
I decided that This Is My Chance. This is my chance to try someone new, guilt-free, and see if maybe, just maybe, Scissorhands has lost his touch on this head of hair and there's someone else out there ready to give it pizzazz. To give me pizzazz. It's too soon for him to have called me with new contact info, and I have to get my hair cut, right? So I just go to someone else this time, and if it sucks and I hate it and all that, I can go back to Scissorhands and his magic fingers and grovel for the chic 'dos I took for granted.
But wait! There's more! This morning ColorWonder's salon called me to tell me that he left three months ago. Three months?! Where was my phone call? Email? Note by post? Did you forget about me, ColorWonder? How sad I am. You used to call me just to say "hi" or check up on me and my hair. What happened to the good old days? And why have both of my men disappeared at the same time?! Weird.
In the end, since I hadn't heard back from ColorWonder by email (and, no, I hadn't even tried calling yet since I was still a little offended that he never called to say he left and all), I booked an appointment for cut and color with another guy in his salon who has produced some first-rate looks.
Mere minutes passed before ColorWonder called me. I missed the call, not even knowing it rang, and he left no message. Then this afternoon he emailed me and wants me to come "get done" at his house, where he's in the process of adding on a studio. I'm pleased-as-punch for him and his new endeavor. I've never been unhappy with him or the hair color he gives me. In fact, I've gotten compliments on his work too. But I'm kind of looking forward to going to just one appointment instead of the two I've been shlepping to ever since they parted ways. Not to mention that I always like New And Different. It's almost An Adventure.
Navigating these delicate hairdresser relationships is tough, y'all! If you're one of the few people who stumble across my page, and you've actually read enough of my shallow, self-indulgent ramblings to get to this sentence, how would you handle it? Would you go to the new guy to see if he can Shake Things Up, or would your loyalty get the best of you?
So first I called my stylist, Scissorhands, who I have been going to for six years. He recently moved to a brand new beautiful spa-and-salon type place, and when I called, their number was "no longer in service." After a brief moment of panic, I realized I have resources. Resources! So before bothering him by cell phone, I called my resource (who happens to be friends with the husband of one of Scissorhand's salon buddies) to get the scoop. He quickly confirmed my suspicions; the salon had indeed Gone Under. They shut their doors only last weekend.
I decided to postpone making decisions on the hair-cutting and called the salon of my color guy, ColorWonder. Scissorhands and ColorWonder used to work in the same salon, and I started seeing ColorWonder six years ago too. Of course, being Monday, they weren't answering because that's the day they're closed. I left my kind message and shot off an email to ColorWonder just to see if he's in town and available this week.
By this morning I had decided not to call Scissorhands privately for a cut. Scissorhands gave me amazing, bordering on miracle, haircuts. These cuts practically styled themselves. Literally. I could just wash and let dry or blow dry without tools. This is huge for me with my super-fine and super-straight hair. And I got compliments. On my hair, y'all. These compliments were offered out-of-the-blue and not infrequently. This was, and still is, extraordinary to me.
I was one happy girl, believe you me, after all those years of no real style. It was one boring blunt cut after another in the old days. I actually bought the baloney I was being sold, "Don't EVER let anyone give you layers! Your hair is TOO FINE! TOO STRAIGHT!!" I had had a couple of terribly bad, don't-want-to-remember-the-horror, layered cuts so I believed these lines. Oh, how naive I was!
Anyway, over the years, Scissorhand's cuts have slowly become less amazing and downright ordinary. I keep going back, hoping for the fabulousness of yesteryear, but I never get it. Plus, he's an angry, bitter bore who talks my ear off and needs me to agree with his angry, bitter take on everything. And since my hair is at risk, I always do. I actually have several friends who went to him a time or two and loved their styles but wouldn't go back for the sole reason that his repartee borders on torture. But I, if you haven't figured this out already, must be vain, vain, vain because so far I've been willing to sacrifice an hour for a few months of fabulousness. Since that fabulousness has not been meeting my expectations (which Scissorhands himself set so high), I Made The Decision.
I decided that This Is My Chance. This is my chance to try someone new, guilt-free, and see if maybe, just maybe, Scissorhands has lost his touch on this head of hair and there's someone else out there ready to give it pizzazz. To give me pizzazz. It's too soon for him to have called me with new contact info, and I have to get my hair cut, right? So I just go to someone else this time, and if it sucks and I hate it and all that, I can go back to Scissorhands and his magic fingers and grovel for the chic 'dos I took for granted.
But wait! There's more! This morning ColorWonder's salon called me to tell me that he left three months ago. Three months?! Where was my phone call? Email? Note by post? Did you forget about me, ColorWonder? How sad I am. You used to call me just to say "hi" or check up on me and my hair. What happened to the good old days? And why have both of my men disappeared at the same time?! Weird.
In the end, since I hadn't heard back from ColorWonder by email (and, no, I hadn't even tried calling yet since I was still a little offended that he never called to say he left and all), I booked an appointment for cut and color with another guy in his salon who has produced some first-rate looks.
Mere minutes passed before ColorWonder called me. I missed the call, not even knowing it rang, and he left no message. Then this afternoon he emailed me and wants me to come "get done" at his house, where he's in the process of adding on a studio. I'm pleased-as-punch for him and his new endeavor. I've never been unhappy with him or the hair color he gives me. In fact, I've gotten compliments on his work too. But I'm kind of looking forward to going to just one appointment instead of the two I've been shlepping to ever since they parted ways. Not to mention that I always like New And Different. It's almost An Adventure.
Navigating these delicate hairdresser relationships is tough, y'all! If you're one of the few people who stumble across my page, and you've actually read enough of my shallow, self-indulgent ramblings to get to this sentence, how would you handle it? Would you go to the new guy to see if he can Shake Things Up, or would your loyalty get the best of you?
Monday, March 19, 2007
happy monday
One week down and 4 pounds released into the universe!
It's a Happy Monday because: I am on the right track and doing good things for my body. And: I didn't Give Up or Make Pathetic Excuses. Now let's see if I can string two of these kinds of weeks together.
Baby steps.
It's a Happy Monday because: I am on the right track and doing good things for my body. And: I didn't Give Up or Make Pathetic Excuses. Now let's see if I can string two of these kinds of weeks together.
Baby steps.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
who's your patty?
Yesterday, being St. Patrick's Day, evokes images of beer and junk food and drunkenness and general revelry. I, being on a "lifestyle change," did only one of those things. I participated in the revelry but passed on the others. And that is a Good Thing.
I had fun, I'll need to remind myself at future occasions where imbibing is the norm. I can enjoy myself at parties and assorted celebrations without drink. I can sing along with a Beatles cover band so bad their vocals physically hurt my ears and actually enjoy it. That is, until I don't. Until I realize I'm not intoxicated and their ear-piercing sound has become punishment, and I can't bear it one second longer and must leave now.
So maybe not drinking won't be an all-time thing for me while I'm losing weight, but I think any choices I make not to partake can only help me get to the place I'm heading a tad more quickly. Let's face it, drunk people are no fun (and can be really quite boring, actually) when you're not one of them. In spite of that, yesterday was a Good Day. I did actually have fun (even if that fun had an expiration), and I don't feel like I missed out or deprived myself or anything.
BTW: If you were wondering what yesterday's hooky post had to do with losing weight, well, I guess it had nothing to do with it. Except: I did have a wonderful day, and I didn't need to have any foods I wished I hadn't to do it. It was all healthy and sensible. I didn't even have the cold beer that would have gone fabulously with the waterside eating. That would have been nice and apropos, but just like Patty's-party-drinking, totally not necessary.
I had fun, I'll need to remind myself at future occasions where imbibing is the norm. I can enjoy myself at parties and assorted celebrations without drink. I can sing along with a Beatles cover band so bad their vocals physically hurt my ears and actually enjoy it. That is, until I don't. Until I realize I'm not intoxicated and their ear-piercing sound has become punishment, and I can't bear it one second longer and must leave now.
So maybe not drinking won't be an all-time thing for me while I'm losing weight, but I think any choices I make not to partake can only help me get to the place I'm heading a tad more quickly. Let's face it, drunk people are no fun (and can be really quite boring, actually) when you're not one of them. In spite of that, yesterday was a Good Day. I did actually have fun (even if that fun had an expiration), and I don't feel like I missed out or deprived myself or anything.
BTW: If you were wondering what yesterday's hooky post had to do with losing weight, well, I guess it had nothing to do with it. Except: I did have a wonderful day, and I didn't need to have any foods I wished I hadn't to do it. It was all healthy and sensible. I didn't even have the cold beer that would have gone fabulously with the waterside eating. That would have been nice and apropos, but just like Patty's-party-drinking, totally not necessary.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
hooky
To take advantage of the lovely sunny and spring-y weather we've been having this week and banish the touch of spring fever I had, my boy and I played hooky. Hooky! What fun!
After some arm-twisting from me, we skipped out on everything and drove down to the coast. We walked along the water and looked at pelicans and gulls and boats and all there was to see.
We took a boat ride and admired the sailboats and wished we could own one and travel around like The Richies do. He knows an older couple who do just this, and we are jealous. We are green with envy and also bound and determined to figure out a way to make much more money now so we can maybe do such things. Things like: get a whim and sail off to the BVI (because Richies don't say British Virgin Islands; it's just the BVI to them). Meanwhile, since we must live in reality, we took the cheapest possible boat tour ($10 - a real steal!) on a not-very-appealing boat. Still, it was so much fun and quite a treat to be out on the water with the sun shining and the breeze blowing my hair all around. It makes me feel alive again after being cooped up in the city for so long.
After all this, we stopped to eat in a restaurant in order to get our parking validated. Avoiding the $5 parking only cost us $45! Yes, we are smart and sensible, both of us. I had some boiled shimp and a salad, and I just love sitting on the water's edge and eating peel-and-eat shrimp. I don't know why it's so much fun; I suppose it's connected to memories of doing the same on the beach and being happy and relaxed and just content. And, yes, I felt happy and relaxed and just content in that moment too.
And in the end, we felt very lucky to be able to do all this. We don't get to own sailboats or travel to exotic places very often. And we have to drive three and a half hours for what is only a 110-mile round trip (because the traffic on the way is horrible, y'all). But we are very lucky to be able to enjoy moments like these that are special because they are real and simple and much too few-and-far-between.
After some arm-twisting from me, we skipped out on everything and drove down to the coast. We walked along the water and looked at pelicans and gulls and boats and all there was to see.
We took a boat ride and admired the sailboats and wished we could own one and travel around like The Richies do. He knows an older couple who do just this, and we are jealous. We are green with envy and also bound and determined to figure out a way to make much more money now so we can maybe do such things. Things like: get a whim and sail off to the BVI (because Richies don't say British Virgin Islands; it's just the BVI to them). Meanwhile, since we must live in reality, we took the cheapest possible boat tour ($10 - a real steal!) on a not-very-appealing boat. Still, it was so much fun and quite a treat to be out on the water with the sun shining and the breeze blowing my hair all around. It makes me feel alive again after being cooped up in the city for so long.
After all this, we stopped to eat in a restaurant in order to get our parking validated. Avoiding the $5 parking only cost us $45! Yes, we are smart and sensible, both of us. I had some boiled shimp and a salad, and I just love sitting on the water's edge and eating peel-and-eat shrimp. I don't know why it's so much fun; I suppose it's connected to memories of doing the same on the beach and being happy and relaxed and just content. And, yes, I felt happy and relaxed and just content in that moment too.
And in the end, we felt very lucky to be able to do all this. We don't get to own sailboats or travel to exotic places very often. And we have to drive three and a half hours for what is only a 110-mile round trip (because the traffic on the way is horrible, y'all). But we are very lucky to be able to enjoy moments like these that are special because they are real and simple and much too few-and-far-between.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
about ideal weights, goal weights and all that
Just starting out, it's tempting to put numbers on where I want to go. And I did. I did it because I know I must get healthier, and to do that I must get rid of this abdominal fat.
Yesterday Metamorphose left me a comment linking me to this post of hers in response to a comment I left on her page. She's one smart cookie. She owned up to the fact that she was gaining, and she's doing something to stop it. (Oh, how I wish I'd been as wise and good.)
Nevertheless, reading her post made me feel a little sad about how we accept and defend overweight so much in this country that she felt she would need to defend herself for wanting (or even needing) to lose weight. She's a beautiful gal, mind you, just go look at her photos and you'll see (although you probably already know that since it's not unlikely that you got here from there). I would never ever look at her and think, "Now that's someone who should lay off dessert." But 'looking good already' doesn't equal 'optimal weight as far as health is concerned.'
Honestly, I think if I could have seen pictures of a size-10 me when I was in high school or even college, I would have thought I looked fat. And I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Now, I do have those kinds of photos, and I currently think I look great in them. I lust after that size and all that. But my high-school self had a different frame of reference. People in general were thinner back then. And healthier too. I think in our quest to be accepting and pc and stuff, we lost sight of what extra weight does to our bodies.
It's well known that abdominal fat is directly related to the development of chronic disease. Women with waist circumferences over 35 inches (me!) are at very high risk for developing heart disease, diabetes, and more. Does that mean at a 34.9 inch waist I'll be safe again? I don't think so. The epidemiologists and doctors doing these studies have to pick a most appropriate cut-off number so that they can run their statistics, but in reality, this effect is probably seen on a continuum. And it's probably related to height. In fact, it is. I've seen that somewhere, but I just don't know where that is right now. So if you're 5 feet tall, maybe 35 inches is well into your high risk zone while a 5' 11" woman might be okay with a 35 inch waist.
The same goes for BMI. A BMI of 25 or more is overweight. And it's proven to be unhealthy. A BMI of 30 or more is obese, and people like me that are in that category are even more likely to get one or more of those blasted diseases. I don't think that getting down to 24.9 is enough. Just because that one-tenth of a point makes it normal on a chart doesn't mean it's the healthiest for me.
I guess my point is that these numbers are good only as guidelines. I did choose a goal: 145 because it puts me in the normal category based on those guidelines. Plus, that's a weight where I can start liking the way I look. I don't think that's an ideal weight, though. I think for that I need to look past all these numbers that are based on generalizations and look at how much fat I have on my body. Can I pinch more than an inch on my waist? Well, obviously I can grab whole handfuls right now, but I hope to someday get to a point where I can't and then pinching will be my guideline. Old-fashioned as it is, I think it's more telling than any BMI or waist circumference or weight measurement because the interpretation of those are all relative. It depends on how much muscle you have or how tall you are or your frame size or whether you're a square or an hourglass or a triangle.
I know I'll give a big sigh a relief when I pass those benchmarks, but I'll really feel optimistic if I persevere and get to where I can only pinch an inch (which would be well below my current goal) because then I'll know I'm doing all I can to prevent heart disease, diabetes, and even cancer (I'd have to also be getting lots of fruits and veggies in for that last one). With all the damage I've already done, it's all I can hope for to lessen my risks as much as possible so that whether I make it to 43 or 83 I'll be as healthy and as not-falling-apart-y as possible. And I won't feel bad that I wanted to shave off as much weight as possible, even if my only motivation were appearance, because I know that's one of the steps to getting there.
And go you, Metamorphose, for not accepting a weight or size that you feel is not right for you either!
A few notes:
Now don't go thinking that I don't like fat people -- I am one, how could I not like them? I have plenty of overweight friends. And I think there are a lot of overweight women who are very attractive. I just think that people do a disservice if they say there's nothing wrong with it. I like myself and I'm pretty happy, but it's not okay to be this fat. And it's not okay for you to be either if you are, even if you don't have any health problems rightnow. Our bodies don't like it; it makes it so they can't function optimally.
Also, I'm all new at this, as you see, so I don't know a thing about blog etiquette. Is it okay to talk about Metamorphose even though I don't really know her (yet!). If it's not, I'll feel really bad and send her flowers (but no chocolates!) and delete all that stuff STAT.
Yesterday Metamorphose left me a comment linking me to this post of hers in response to a comment I left on her page. She's one smart cookie. She owned up to the fact that she was gaining, and she's doing something to stop it. (Oh, how I wish I'd been as wise and good.)
Nevertheless, reading her post made me feel a little sad about how we accept and defend overweight so much in this country that she felt she would need to defend herself for wanting (or even needing) to lose weight. She's a beautiful gal, mind you, just go look at her photos and you'll see (although you probably already know that since it's not unlikely that you got here from there). I would never ever look at her and think, "Now that's someone who should lay off dessert." But 'looking good already' doesn't equal 'optimal weight as far as health is concerned.'
Honestly, I think if I could have seen pictures of a size-10 me when I was in high school or even college, I would have thought I looked fat. And I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Now, I do have those kinds of photos, and I currently think I look great in them. I lust after that size and all that. But my high-school self had a different frame of reference. People in general were thinner back then. And healthier too. I think in our quest to be accepting and pc and stuff, we lost sight of what extra weight does to our bodies.
It's well known that abdominal fat is directly related to the development of chronic disease. Women with waist circumferences over 35 inches (me!) are at very high risk for developing heart disease, diabetes, and more. Does that mean at a 34.9 inch waist I'll be safe again? I don't think so. The epidemiologists and doctors doing these studies have to pick a most appropriate cut-off number so that they can run their statistics, but in reality, this effect is probably seen on a continuum. And it's probably related to height. In fact, it is. I've seen that somewhere, but I just don't know where that is right now. So if you're 5 feet tall, maybe 35 inches is well into your high risk zone while a 5' 11" woman might be okay with a 35 inch waist.
The same goes for BMI. A BMI of 25 or more is overweight. And it's proven to be unhealthy. A BMI of 30 or more is obese, and people like me that are in that category are even more likely to get one or more of those blasted diseases. I don't think that getting down to 24.9 is enough. Just because that one-tenth of a point makes it normal on a chart doesn't mean it's the healthiest for me.
I guess my point is that these numbers are good only as guidelines. I did choose a goal: 145 because it puts me in the normal category based on those guidelines. Plus, that's a weight where I can start liking the way I look. I don't think that's an ideal weight, though. I think for that I need to look past all these numbers that are based on generalizations and look at how much fat I have on my body. Can I pinch more than an inch on my waist? Well, obviously I can grab whole handfuls right now, but I hope to someday get to a point where I can't and then pinching will be my guideline. Old-fashioned as it is, I think it's more telling than any BMI or waist circumference or weight measurement because the interpretation of those are all relative. It depends on how much muscle you have or how tall you are or your frame size or whether you're a square or an hourglass or a triangle.
I know I'll give a big sigh a relief when I pass those benchmarks, but I'll really feel optimistic if I persevere and get to where I can only pinch an inch (which would be well below my current goal) because then I'll know I'm doing all I can to prevent heart disease, diabetes, and even cancer (I'd have to also be getting lots of fruits and veggies in for that last one). With all the damage I've already done, it's all I can hope for to lessen my risks as much as possible so that whether I make it to 43 or 83 I'll be as healthy and as not-falling-apart-y as possible. And I won't feel bad that I wanted to shave off as much weight as possible, even if my only motivation were appearance, because I know that's one of the steps to getting there.
And go you, Metamorphose, for not accepting a weight or size that you feel is not right for you either!
A few notes:
Now don't go thinking that I don't like fat people -- I am one, how could I not like them? I have plenty of overweight friends. And I think there are a lot of overweight women who are very attractive. I just think that people do a disservice if they say there's nothing wrong with it. I like myself and I'm pretty happy, but it's not okay to be this fat. And it's not okay for you to be either if you are, even if you don't have any health problems rightnow. Our bodies don't like it; it makes it so they can't function optimally.
Also, I'm all new at this, as you see, so I don't know a thing about blog etiquette. Is it okay to talk about Metamorphose even though I don't really know her (yet!). If it's not, I'll feel really bad and send her flowers (but no chocolates!) and delete all that stuff STAT.
Monday, March 12, 2007
stats
Summary:
Here's the overview from start to now. Any time I update something, I'll date it.
Height: 5' 5"
Starting size: 18 (3/12/07)
Current size:
Starting weight: 206.0 (3/12/07)
Current weight: 196.4 (4/23/07)
Starting waist: 42 inches (3/12/07)
Current waist: 40.75 inches (4/1/07)
Starting hips: 49 inches (3/12/07)
Current hips: 48.5 inches (4/1/07)
Starting BMI: 34.3 (3/12/07) **I'm obese, y'all. Only about 4 pounds away from CLASS II obesity! Scary.
Current BMI: 32.7 (4/23/07)
________
Goals:
Right now I'll keep my goals where I'm pretty sure I can reach them, even though I know I need to do more to get to an ideal weight and size.
Goal size: 10
Goal weight: 145
BMI goals:
Category change to overweight: 180
Category change to normal: 150
________
Size Changes:
This is the one that's nearest and dearest to my heart. Anytime I go down a clothing size (based on my jeans), I'll note the date here.
03/12/07 size 18
________
Weigh-Ins and Measurements:
I think I'll keep this to once per month here, except the first month, which I cut short.
date________weight______bmi_________waist_______hips
03/12/07_____206.0______34.3_________42_________49
04/01/07_____198.8______33.1_________40.75_______48.5
***If you want to see a more detailed (and boring!) chart of my weekly weigh-ins and related info click here.
________
Here's the overview from start to now. Any time I update something, I'll date it.
Height: 5' 5"
Starting size: 18 (3/12/07)
Current size:
Starting weight: 206.0 (3/12/07)
Current weight: 196.4 (4/23/07)
Starting waist: 42 inches (3/12/07)
Current waist: 40.75 inches (4/1/07)
Starting hips: 49 inches (3/12/07)
Current hips: 48.5 inches (4/1/07)
Starting BMI: 34.3 (3/12/07) **I'm obese, y'all. Only about 4 pounds away from CLASS II obesity! Scary.
Current BMI: 32.7 (4/23/07)
________
Goals:
Right now I'll keep my goals where I'm pretty sure I can reach them, even though I know I need to do more to get to an ideal weight and size.
Goal size: 10
Goal weight: 145
BMI goals:
Category change to overweight: 180
Category change to normal: 150
________
Size Changes:
This is the one that's nearest and dearest to my heart. Anytime I go down a clothing size (based on my jeans), I'll note the date here.
03/12/07 size 18
________
Weigh-Ins and Measurements:
I think I'll keep this to once per month here, except the first month, which I cut short.
date________weight______bmi_________waist_______hips
03/12/07_____206.0______34.3_________42_________49
04/01/07_____198.8______33.1_________40.75_______48.5
***If you want to see a more detailed (and boring!) chart of my weekly weigh-ins and related info click here.
________
the numbers
I weigh 206. Yikes!
No wonder I look so unwieldy. My 5' 5" frame can't support a weight like this. Some people carry their weight well. Not me. My double chin is huge, and it just sits right on my face, which is small so it looks even bigger by comparison. I really don't know where I can store any more chin fat so I must do something about this because I really don't want to see how much more crazily deformed I can get.
Lest you think I'm storing all 86 excess pounds in my chin, let me assure you that I'm storing it all over, even in places I never thought I could put fat. I used to think I only gained weight in my thighs and hips and butt (ahh... what a naive non-fatty I was), and I sure proved my theory wrong. I ate and ate and ate and, of course, my hips expanded to their more-than-healthy current size: 49 inches. I think I kind of topped out there so now my midsection has taken on the job, quite proficiently I must say, since my waist has stretched to a lovely 42 inches. My thighs and arms have taken on their fair share. Even my ankles have stopped fighting it and are showing the signs of defeat. There's fat everywhere. Really.
So there. Some ugly measurements and a shocking-to-me weight.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
taking a load off
Astounding. Yesterday I realized that I've spent almost all of my adult life devising plans for losing weight and just generally worrying about the thousand and five things a person in this situation can. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. Things like, I can't go to that party because I don't want so-and-so to see how fat I am. Or I'd better just stand -- my thighs will spread out and stretch the limits of my jeans if I sit down. Or even pleeease let my cholesterol be normal. What a waste of time, energy, productivity, happiness, and all that.
I wasn't always this way. I was a skinny teen. I was skinny in the first part of college. I was even skinny for a few years in my mid twenties. To be honest, I was really only a bit overweight during those times that I wasn't skinny. Until now; now I'm fat. I'm fatter than ever, and I don't like it one bit.
So here I am -- tired of being fat, tired of not recognizing myself in the mirror, tired of feeling sluggish, and tired of this unhealthy body. But mostly I'm tired, physically and mentally tired, of all the hours I dedicated to thinking about my fat. I'm ready to move on and get my mind on something worthwhile.
I wasn't always this way. I was a skinny teen. I was skinny in the first part of college. I was even skinny for a few years in my mid twenties. To be honest, I was really only a bit overweight during those times that I wasn't skinny. Until now; now I'm fat. I'm fatter than ever, and I don't like it one bit.
So here I am -- tired of being fat, tired of not recognizing myself in the mirror, tired of feeling sluggish, and tired of this unhealthy body. But mostly I'm tired, physically and mentally tired, of all the hours I dedicated to thinking about my fat. I'm ready to move on and get my mind on something worthwhile.
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