Day 56-59 (Weigh Day #8)

OOPS! I'm 3 days late on my weigh day post. What a slacker! It's hard to get motivated about posting the same number every week. Sigh.

The devil scales revealed, yet again, that I'm holding steady at 215.

But that's all me (well, and that damned lobster-steak-crab-dessert dinner I inhaled last Saturday).

Anywhoo, determined to get off the hamster wheel and actually make some progress, I asked a co-worker for some tips (thanks "twit"!). Said coworker suggested many things, two of which I have begun implementing.

The first is to add intervals to my dreadmill routine. I'd tried this when I first started working out a couple of months ago, but I was soooo outta' shape at that point that I could barely manage to walk for 20 minutes, much less run.

But now that I've been logging 40 minutes at a pretty decent pace, I thought what the hell.

OH! My! God!

My massive frame was not designed to run!!! Tuesday and Wednesday I did 35 minutes broken into intervals of 3 minutes fast walking and 1 minute running. (Thank goodness Barbie wasn't there!)

At one point I made the mistake of looking into the wall o' mirrors during my "run." I felt like I was performing like a gazelle ... all light and graceful (contrary to the groaning protests of the dreadmill), but when I caught a glimpse of myself I saw this horribly uncoordinated hippo struggling to stay alive. You'd think there was some kind of wild game hunter chasing me with a shotgun and spear the way I was swaggering left and right, barely breathing (or breathing so much you couldn't tell there was any inhale/exhale).

If you want to see sexiness, just come see me at the gym! =)

To my credit, though ... hippo that I am kept on plodding along (sans mirror!).

I did take Thursday off to recoup and as of this AM, my calves are still hard as rocks ... I'm working that stilted robot swagger. It's hot.

Another tip that I'm working on is no carbs after 5. This method is based on the idea that all organs have a time of day at which they function to maximum capacity. The liver, which does the heavy lifting where carbs are concerned, peters out after 5. So, it's better to squeeze them in earlier rather than later. Or so the theory goes.

We'll see if these two new tips have any result at the next weigh day. Until then, this hippo's gonna' keep on ploddin' along. (Hope that game hunter doesn't spear me in the ass!)

Day 52-55 (a serving of stupid, please)

A bread basket. Lobster. Lobster bisque. Filet mignon with crab sauce. Sautéed potatoes. Cheesecake. Moonpie. And, the most dietic thing on my menu last Saturday night ... Crown and DIET Coke ... lots of it.

Yep, even after I resolved (promised, pinkie swore to myself) that I wouldn't dive head first into the deep end of an empty pool, I went ahead and did it anyway.

SMACK!

I think I'm still dizzy from the crash-landing into the cement.

Crap.

But, Lord only knows how good that meal tasted. And, for what it cost (see my tell-all post on my other blog for details), it sure as shit should have.

Now that I'm back on track (yet again), it's the savory memories of that delicious deceit that will keep my stomach full.

Day 51 (perspective)

As I was slugging away on the dreadmill this afternoon (40 minutes, 1.5 incline, 4.2 speed - whoo-hoo!) I started thinking about how looooong this defluffing was taking, but also, how far I've come since my highest weight two years ago (260!! ACK!!!)

My hubby is always "busting my balls" about the obsessive amount of pictures I take.

Well, he can now bite me. Looking back over the ups and downs of my "full!!!" figure, I have to say I've come a looooong way baby! I still have a long way to go, but these pics (especially the first ... grrrrrrross!) serve as a welcome reminder of where I've been and where I never want to go again!



New Year's 2005-2006: At the PEAK of my PUDGE!!!




September 2007: Down 45 lbs. and ready to make a baby!



May 2007: The night I was admitted to the hospital for induction ... only gained 15 lbs. during pregnancy (shocking, I know!)



June 2007: About two weeks post-partum, all baby weight plus an additional seven lbs. had disappeared.

Now, I just need to lose 7 to be back where I was just after Coop was born and after that, I'm headed into unchartered territory. Already told the hubby that when I hit 199 he better buy me something freakin' amazing to celebrate!

Day 50 (bom-chicka-waa-waa)

It zipped! It zippped! All the way up this time. That damn red dress actually zipped. No professional-grade pliers or grease required. Who-hoo!

While I don't think the fit is that great - it hits at the wrong spot and makes my ass look wider than the Grand Canyon (or maybe that's just the actual size of my ass) - I am still super psyched that I actually achieved this goal.

Next goal? Hit 208 by St. Patty's Day.

Day 48-50 (Weigh Day #7)

Holy crap sack ... it's now day 50 into my quest to be a "hot mama"! My how time flies when your ass is big and your dinner is small.

Anywhoo, jumped on the scales this AM and I have lost another pound, yay. I'm now down 13 and I officially weigh 215 -- the number I was at when I got preggars on the banks of the Guadalupe River in September 2006 (I had lost 45 prior to that in an effort to help Chris' swimmers invade my egg).

Now, I have just 7 more to go to be back where I was after Coop was yanked from my ribs 9 months ago (I say ribs and not stomach because he chose to camp as close to my eyeballs as possible).

Tomorrow I plan on trying on that little red dress that only half-zipped at the beginning of the month. Will it slide effortlessly over my pudgy gut and cottage-cheese thighs or will it look like saran wrap on sausage?

Guess we'll see tommorrow.

Day 47 Part 2 (balls out!)

For V-day, Chris and I talked about getting eachother an exercise ball to mess around with during my CSI marathons and his back-to-back Family Guy episodes.

We just never got around to actually swinging by the store to pick it up.

So during our mommy-son Sunday, Coop and I grabbed one.

I've already taken a "few balls to the face," but it's soo fun. I think it'll def. help me get to where I want to "go."

Bonus? Coop loves to "bounce" on it and he laughs hysterically whenever I fall, which in turn makes me laugh ... extra ab workout .. niiice!

Day 47 (done)

I'm done. Done being a Debbie Downer! I reread yesterday's post and ick, I was just in a bad place when I wrote that.

Today is a new day. A chance to start again. My mom sent me a "don't be stupid" e-mail (OK, it was more cut yourself some slack ...) and she's was right in what she said:

"You are going to have to learn to forgive yourself and not be so darn hard on
yourself ... life is tooo freakin short for you to take this so seriously! It is all a choice--learn to lose weight more slowly and practically or learn to be happy with
the person that you are. Either way, I just want you to be happy and enjoy your husband and baby and new job and be thankful every day that you have such an amazing life--you truly do."

Damn mothers. Always so freakin' on point. =)

I posted what I did yesterday so that I could go back and see it again, away from the moment. Sometimes you have to figure out a way to get outside your head, outside yourself. That's what I did. And I'm glad.

I feel good today, recharged. It may take me another two months to get below 216, but, I can hear my husband and son in the living room practing saying "Ma Ma" (Coop says Ba Ba!!!) and that's what I have to focus on. And what an awesome treat that is.

Day 44-46 (broken road)

In my previous post I jokingly wrote that I planned on honoring V Day by consuming an entire box of chocolates.

I didn’t think I really would.

But I did. Well, save for the gross coconut ones.

A 2-lb. box. In two days and one morning (this morning).

I’ve hit rock bottom.

I faced my food demons about 30 minutes ago. I found them lurking in the bottom of the toilet bowl. I emptied the contents of my stomach in that bowl in an effort to shut them up. Not because I was sick, but because I stuck my finger down my throat.

All my life I have struggled with my weight. With erratic food binges when life seemed to chaotic to control. I always joked that I was a part-time bulimic — I binged; I just always forgot to throw up.

Today I didn’t forget.

I am exhausted. For the past week I have been up with Coop, on average, four times a night. This wasn’t such a big deal when he was a newbie baby and I was on maternity leave. This kind of insanity was expected.

But a week’s worth of sleeplessness, coupled with new-job stress and a weakened resolve found me doing things I never dreamed I would do.

Coop and I have been up since 5. As I was feeding him in the early morning darkness, I could feel my body crying out for rest. I fed it chocolate to silence the tears.

The night before I had bagged up the rest of the candy and sat it in the trash. As if on autopilot, I fished it out and consumed the majority of its contents.

I can’t believe I am admitting any of this.

I thought after two months of working out and eating better that I would’ve had better control over my vices.

I was wrong.

I ate until my stomach ached. Then wretched guilt took over. I put a happy Coop in his crib to play and then walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

The ache in my stomach is now gone, but the guilt remains. It is my hope that by posting this I will be able to alleviate some of that.

Writing, like food, has always been my saving grace.

Day 43 (Weigh Day #6)

Well, poo. I didn't hit my target of a 3-lb. weight loss this week, but I did loose 2... small progress is still progress, I guess.

Not too bummed though, at least I finally broke the holding at 220 streak! Yippee!

I hit the dreadmill and weights extra-hard today to make up for the fact that I plan on eating an entire heart-shaped box of chocolates tomorrow in honor of everyone's favorite candy-coated holiday. One day of indulgence and then I'm right back on track.

Still hope to fit into that dang red dress by next weekend. Now, that should be interesting. Crisco here I come.

Day 42 (back-up barbie)

By the end of work yesterday, I felt like someone had stabbed an ice pick just above my left eye ... we're talking the vision-impairing kind of stab. Normally I would've used this an excuse to skip out on the gym. But, the new, irritating me forged ahead.

I walked into the tiny gym/closet and was relieved to see that I had it all to myself. I snagged my favorite dreadmill, tuned all three TVs to a CSI rerun and cranked the volume. I was lovin' life.

By the time Grissom was in the morgue, watching the autopsy of a girl who'd been blugeoned to death, my headache was all but gone and I was feeling pretty great.

Then Barbie came in.

Crap.

Size 4 hopped on the dreadmill next to me and started walking. I tried to keep my eyes focused on Grissom and the cracked skull in his hands, but I couldn't help but notice Barbie eyeing the stats on my display.

She upped her speed to where mine was at. No biggie, but when I increased my speed, she waited a minute and then increased hers to match. What tha' $#@!?

Then she one-upped me on the incline.

Double crap.

I upped mine, as well, my legs crying in pain. I was huffing and puffing, sweat pooling in every crevice.

Barbie had yet to break into labored breathing.

This was psychological gym warfare and I was getting my ass kicked.

After me requisite 35 minutes, I waved my white flag. Congratulated her on well-earned victory and stumbled over to the weights.

While Barbie was totally buggin' yesterday, trying to keep pace with her has actually given me the greatest gift today: undeniably sore muscles (the kind that make it hard to walk, squat, function) ... the badge of honor for any "gym-ie."

Wonder if she'll be back today.

Day 38-41 (Adjusting)

Well, crap. I never thought it could happen to me, but I've now become one of those crazy, whack-job types who say irritating things like, "I feel awful when I don't workout." "I crave the exercise."

WHAT??!!

This new revelation, of course, doesn't seem to be making much of an impact on the scale, however.

Now that my fluffy frame has adjusted to the daily sweat session, I've realized I've got to go back and adjust my eating habits.

Double crap.

I was eating the "good-for-you" junk like yogurt for breakfast (vanilla, 80 calories, yummy!), eating pretty much whatever I wanted (within reason) for lunch and a small, more "balanced" dinner.

Scratch that. Time for plan B.

I will keep up the same breakfast, revise lunch (umm, hello, just ordered friggin' apple slices at McDonald's!!!!!!) and tackle dinner, um, tonight. I have to go back to the original chant: "Food is fuel. Not entertainment."

Hope this new approach helps. It better. Or drastic measures will have to be taken (mouth stapling, anyone?).

p.s. I keep getting headaches at work, which makes it incredibly difficult to come up with creative, compelling marketing copy. I think it has something to do with needing to get away from the desk and fit in some form of heart-pumping action. I need quick exercises I can squeeze in on my frequent trips to the bathroom, etc. Anyone have any thoughts? I did calf raises on my last trip while washing my hands. Oh, Good Lord, what have I become????

Day 36/37 (Weigh Day #5)

After a week of indulgence followed by two decent days of "being good," I was shocked by what the scales revealed yesterday morning. I assumed that because I didn't workout and ate anything and everything sweet within miles of mouth (not neccassarily because I wanted it, but because I could) that my fluff factor would've been pretty close - if not dead even - with where I started.

But, I am THRILLED to report that I stayed the same: 218. YAY!

It's been 37 days and I've lost 10 pounds ... probably the longest it has ever taken me to loose weight, but it's because I keep allowing myself to get sidetracked.

Well, no more, damn it ... next week, my goal is to hit 215, which will be where I was at 4 months ago before I packed on a quick 20.

Day 34/35 (working in the workout)

Yesterday was D-day. Diet day. Again.

And, at 12:41 on Tuesday, I am happy to report that I am still alive. Who-hoo!Though, I must admit, it was touch and go for awhile. The raging headache brought on by lingering congestion, coupled with sugar withdrawals, was, in a word: crippling.

But I dragged my sorry butt to the gym ... throbbing pain be damned. Thirty-five sweaty minutes on the treadmill and 10 on the weights later I felt revived.

When I started back to work last week, I was totally stressing about how I would work in my workouts now that I couldn't hit the gym in the middle of the day. (For a total couch cruiser for the first 28 years of life, even writing that sentence is a major accomplishment, much less actually stressing!) But, thankfully, flex-time is now a phrase in my ever-expanding vocabulary. Yeah, baby!

I arranged my schedule so that I would get off work 30 minutes before Chris (who picks up Coop at daycare). By the time I get home, get changed, workout and get back home, I only miss about 15 minutes of treasured "Coop" time, which, since he goes to bed around 7, is precious.

I may just hit my next goal, after all. =)

Day 33 (seeing red)

About a week ago, while perusing the clearance racks at my favorite neighborhood Target, I spied a classic little red dress. Not much for donning dresses, I couldn't get over the cute black buttons and equally cute price tag: $4.98!!!! I thought the saucy number would be fun to wear on my first day of work with leggings ... a good confidence booster to show up in red ... or so I thought.

Last Monday, with rollers in my hair and a baby at my side, I slipped the newly purchased garmet over my head and was all set to zip when, um, it wouldn't! I had snagged a size 18, thinking it would fit since I was back into my size 18 jeans.

NOPE.

Not even half way.

Talk about a total fat blow to the ego.

Now, ready to start again in the AM after a week of sickness-induced indulgence, I am determined to get that damn dress to fit.

By February 23.

Some friends are coming in town that day for a conference and we've got reservations for dinner at Three Forks that night. While the dress isn't really tres chic enough for that particular restaurant, it's still my goal to be able to wear it during the day.

Stay tuned ... it's gonna take blood, sweat and tears (and probably professional-grade pliers and bacon grease ... yum, bacon) to get that pesky zipper to unite across my behemoth backside.

Day 29-32 (what diet?)

OK, I missed Weigh Day No. 4, but my niiiice case of bronchitis (with an upper respiratory infection to boot) hit a fever pitch that day and the LAST thing on my mind was stepping on the scales.

On Thursday I paid a visit to the doc-in-the-box and the man prescribed the most genius path to recovery ever:

“Calories don’t count when you’re sick,” he shared. “I don’t care what you eat, as long as you’re putting something in your mouth every hour. Go home, take your meds, get lots of rest and down M&Ms and Kool-Aid.”

Um, what? (No, I’m NOT making this up!!!) It’s like the man looked into my soul and knew it needed something sweet. =)

So, with the doc’s blessing, I hit the sweet section of the nearest grocer. I know, I know, the guy wasn’t being literal, but I could barely swallow and I thought I needed a little candy coating to soothe the pain.

I zeroed in on the Valentine’s Day section and when the kids saw me coming, they ran screaming to their mommies. I was like Godzilla coming to attack a sweet-tart infused Tokyo. I grabbed a couple of the 4-piece assorted chocolate heart boxes, a pint of chocolate chip ice cream, some M&M's (the doc said to!!) and some twizzlers.

Disgusting in diet world, yes. But, oh so yummy.

While I didn’t eat all of that confectionary crud in the same day, I must confess, not even a chocolate smudge on my fingertips remains. Sigh.

But, I am feeling better. So, maybe that doc knew what he was talking about after all.

Yeah, let’s go with that. (It couldn’t have been the steroids, antibiotics or Hydrocodone cough syrup.)

My plan is to regroup on Monday. Back to the diet. Back to the gym.