Category Archives: weight loss

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DAY 288: Middle ground

My experience with weight loss has been that the part you want to disappear the most is the most stubborn.  It’s probably an optical illusion, or just that that part is so large to begin with that it’s just a longer slog to work it off, but it’s agonizing waiting to see it finally start to shrink.  For some women, that part is the hips, butt, or thighs.  For this woman, it’s the stomach.

My stomach is misnamed.  It’s more of an asshole.

It forces my toes into an endless game of peek-a-boo.  It makes a mockery of my rack by sticking out farther.  It smothers my lap.  It stretches my shirts, makes buttons struggle to close around it, and makes skirts look ridiculous on me.  It’s the antagonist in this story, and it must go.

Well, finally — finally! — it has started giving up ground.  All of a sudden, my jacket covers it with as much ease as it covers the rest of my torso.  I’m sliding into jeans without unbuttoning or unzipping them.  I’m wearing September’s oh-honey pants.  The biggest victory of all?  My love handles are more like let’s-just-be-friends handles.

It’s been a long time coming, but this stomach is starting to get smaller!

Sooooo, I have to enact that promise I made to myself for when this day finally came:  start the ab work.

I did a few ab exercises on New Year’s Day, just for the hell of it, and I am still sore four days later.  It’s no surprise to me, but I have no core strength.  The bad news:  this is going to suck.  The good news:  this is going to burn A LOT of calories.

I’m coming for you, stomach!

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DAY 286: Fun with food

One of the ways I’ve found of making this whole weight-loss racket enjoyable has been through trying new recipes.  I’ve always liked cooking, but I got away from it for a long time because of a combination of no time (full-time job + grad school is a BAD idea), a presumed lack of logic in preparing full meals for one person, and sheer laziness — Hot Pockets are easier.

In 2015, long before any weight-loss efforts commenced, I had the idea (NOT resolution style!) that I would try making at least one new recipe every week.  I can gladly report that I was successful in that endeavor.  I doubled up on new recipes a few times, which made up for weeks when I was traveling and not doing any cooking.  It was a great experiment, and it led me to become more creative and adventuresome in the kitchen.  It also helped me discover that there are foods I didn’t think I liked that — hey! — I do like!  (I’m looking at you, Brussels sprouts.  I’m sorry I stalked you.  Please repeal your restraining order against me.)

When I threw in the added element of trying to lose weight, my food preparation routine was a true gift.  Not only did it ensure that my meals were already planned, pre-portioned, and ready to grab and eat, it also made it virtually impossible for me to get bored of what I was eating.    To keep up with the need for at least one new recipe every week, I subscribed to the paper editions of Cooking Light, Clean Eating, All Recipes, Eating Well, and Bon Appétit.  I also started following a few cooking blogs at Brussels-sprouts levels of obsession.  I can’t get enough!  I’ve loved this accidental culinary eduction, and I’ve even grown to love my ritual of cooking pretty much all day Sunday in preparation for the week ahead.

Through my forays into the wide world of recipes, I have developed a particular appreciation, and knack, for picking apart several recipes and Frankensteining them with my own strokes of inspiration into formulas that I think would add up to something yummy.  It has not led me astray yet.  I was particularly proud of what I concocted for this week:  spiced butternut squash soup.

I used to shy away from making very involved soups like this.  All the recipes I’ve ever seen for butternut squash soup call for roasting the squash, then cooking it stove top for a while with all the seasonings and other ingredients (which usually include heavy cream, a no-no for me), THEN putting the whole mess into a blender fresh from the hot pot, and serving.  That sounded like a poorly sequenced series of steps to me, and it also daunted me to think about handling a hot mixture and putting it directly into my finicky blender.  Finally feeling confident enough to tinker around with this myself, and since the eastern US has finally decided it should start acting like winter here, I went for it this week.

Luckily, my local grocery stores carry pre-sliced, pre-seeded chunks of butternut squash, so that spared me probably an hour’s worth of work.  A pound and 4 ounces costs a surprisingly reasonable $2.99, so I was able to pick up 3 packs for what I would normally spend on a large package of chicken breast.  I cut the squash cubes into slightly smaller chunks, then tossed them directly into a pot of boiling water as if getting ready to make mashed potatoes.  Ain’t nobody got time for roasting.  Once the chunks were tender, I strained them, let them cool for about 20 minutes, and then blended them with coconut milk and vegetable broth until smooth.  Finally, I poured the contents of the blender back into the pot and seasoned the hell out of it with savory spices, then let it cook at a simmer until the thickness just kind of looked right.

It.  Tastes.  AWESOME.

I will admit that much of the reason I’m posting this is that I just want to broadcast my soup success to anyone who will listen.  Beyond that, though, it’s a great example of how this process of losing weight can go when it goes well.  It’s ALL an experiment.  It’s about forcing yourself to be brave enough to try something new and knowing that there’s no wrong way to do a good (read: healthy) thing for the right (read: healthy) reasons.  It boils down to one thing:  TRY.  You might even have fun.  🙂

So, I’m extra into soups now, and have learned through one of my aforementioned recipe magazine subscriptions that “souping” is the new juicing.  It’s just what it sounds like.  You heard it here first!  Maybe!  Anyway, I think I’d like to try a new soup every week for January.  If anyone out there in the DietBet crowd/blogosphere has a beloved soup recipe they’d be kind enough to share, please post it here or send it to me in a message.  I’d really appreciate your help in building my ever-expanding recipe arsenal!

Many thanks and happy souping!

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DAY 284: You say you want a resolution

Well, you know, we all want to change the world.

Have you ever made a resolution that actually stuck?  Probably not.  I can think of only one person in my own life who has made one successful resolution:  When we were kids, my brother resolved to eat exactly one potato chip the entire year.  For what it’s worth, he nailed it.  So much for the betcha-can’t-eat-just-one myth.

Apart from that sole example, these things are basically giant pillars of fantasy.  People tend to create lofty, overblown objectives — ostensibly for self-improvement — that are unattainable, grandiose, and inherently unexecutable.  Either their resolutions are not specific enough (“I’m going to lose weight!”) or far too specific (“I’m going to go to the gym EVERY DAY and never eat sugar and go paleo and gluten-free and lose 100 pounds by June!”), and we have ourselves to blame for the impracticality.  (Learn your SMART goals, people!)

It’s an honorable effort to create things to strive for in any situation, but making resolution-setting A THING is exactly the problem, especially when it’s for losing weight.

First of all, the time of the year is a trap.  It’s a freaking trap.  From Halloween to New Year’s Eve — two SOLID MONTHS — we stuff our faces with candy and pie and cookies (among other things) under the code of holiday conduct.  That’s two months of steadily gaining weight just through the interruption of whatever routine you have in place, in combination with the calorie fests accompanying each holiday in the forms of parties, receptions, and the celebratory meals that mark the occasions themselves.  So all the while, we have in the back of our heads that we’ve got to get right… but might as well wait until this holiday-laden time of year has passed, cuz it’d just be a lost cause before then.  *shrugs and eats another cupcake*

Furthermore, those two months of splurging on enough sugar and carbs to destroy a doctor’s soul, are two months wasted on regression when they could be spent maintaining, if not making progress.  It’s digging yourself into a deeper hole to work out of when the arbitrary date of January 1st finally comes and you can make your precious resolution.  Honestly, think of the damage!

So New Year’s Day becomes THE HOPE.  We don’t set goals, we set RESOLUTIONS.  (Those are more serious, y’know.  *eye roll*)  The ball drops at midnight on January 1st, and BAM!  You’re magically different and inspired to go lose the weight you haven’t to this point been motivated enough to tackle because… wait, why again?  Because NEW YEAR’S!  That bizarre top-hat-wearing New Year’s baby is your spirit animal, and he will guide you to win!  OO-RAH!

Next on the list of pitfalls is the delusion of time.  You figure, “hey, I have all year to hit this (fucking insane) goal I’ve set for myself.  Totally gonna happen, brah.”  But have you thought it through?  Do you have a plan for how to eat right, build muscle, and work off fat so that you can even get close to hitting that likely bonkers goal of yours?  Or were you just putting it on future-you in the midst of all those holiday smorgasbords to deal with current-you’s horrible decisions so you could continue eating and drinking your way into oblivion without feeling too guilty?  Was it ever a serious decision, or was it a sugar-fueled pledge made in the throes of a mad jones for more of the sweet stuff?  The amount of time you have to hit any goal is meaningless if you haven’t figured out how to spend it on achieving that goal.

Finally, the amount of pressure from this HUGE demand you’ve put upon yourself is crushing.  You have formally resolved to lose weight, and you must succeed!  It’s A THING, after all.  A THING!

No.  It’s too much.  The stakes are too high.  Resolutioning for weight loss is the prime example of the all-or-nothing approach, and unless you’re a wiry 9-year-old boy with a weird defiant streak against potato chip advertisements, ALL OR NOTHING DOESN’T WORK.  It’s why people fail. It’s why I’ve always failed in the past.  You kill it and kill it and kill it until you have one little slip-up, then it’s THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD and you’ve totally ruined everything and you might as well just stop exercising now.  Better luck next year.  Pass the cake.

If you’ve made any resolutions relating to weight loss, I highly recommend you try them the SMART way so you aren’t set up for failure from the jump.  I also sincerely wish you luck — some people do respond well to the magnitude of SUCCEED OR BUST, but those individuals are rare.  Prove me wrong.  Please.

For my part, I resolve to try very hard not to lose my mind when my gym is suddenly overrun with starry-eyed resolutioners who are all up on my elliptical starting tomorrow.  Other than that, my resolution is to make no weight-loss resolutions; just to make more weight-loss progress.

Happy and healthy 2016!

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DAY 281: ENTJ(-A)

I just got back from a week-long holiday fog.  For some reason, part of my family time included taking the (unofficial) Myers-Briggs personality test with 3 members of my family and 2 friends from high school.

I have a slight history with this test.  I’ve taken it a handful of times over the years, sometimes in professional contexts and sometimes in a spirit of what-the-hell.  I never committed my “type” to memory because every time I took it, I got a different result.  It was interesting to read, but it never felt entirely right.  Too many of my answers were really “it depends,” so I would give neutral answers, making it hard to type me accurately.  Furthermore, I’m generally a special combination of adaptable and indecisive, so I’m kind of just always ready to react and can figure my way through things in the absence of a plan, rare though those situations may be for me because I always need a plan.  The zodiac has me totally pegged; Myers-Briggs, not so much.  Go figure, huh?

Well, this time, I took a test modeled on Myers-Briggs 3 times on 3 different metrics and got the exact same type each time.  It was a type I’ve never gotten before.  How can I be sure of that when I JUST said that I never bothered remembering the type because it was different every time?  Every other time, the types had to do with being diplomatic, being solicitous, being dependable.  The results I got this time were different.  This I would have remembered.  I took it three times because I was so stricken by the result of taking it the first time, that I demanded a recount and took it a second time on a second site, and was so shocked by that that I found a third test to take.  I would have taken it a fourth if I wasn’t so exhausted from the incessant self-analysis (or if a link to another reputable measure had fallen directly into my lap).

Yeah, I got a little obsessive about all of a sudden being a solid ENTJ  (Extraverted, iNtuitive, Thinking, Judging).

I had very strong reactions to reading the various synopses about type ENTJ.  Before I launch into this full throttle — and I’ll avoid detailing every single fee-fee I experienced so as not to annoy the hell out of anyone reading this — I will say that I know it’s useless to put too much stock into these things.  Our human idiosyncrasies make it so that anyone can be any type in any given situation, and these types are indicators of tendencies towards certain behaviors rather than a black-and-white classification of who one is at one’s core.  (And arguably, my reaction to discovering my type disproves the test results.  Meta enough for ya?)  Still, I was a little blown away at some of what I read about my typology.  Here are two snippets of the worst of it:

“Few other types can equal their ability to remain resolute in conflict, sending the valiant (and often leading the charge) into the mouth of hell. When challenged, the ENTJ may by reflex become argumentative. Alternatively (s)he may unleash an icy gaze that serves notice: the ENTJ is not one to be trifled with.”  —humanmetrics.com

My family and long-time friends found it hilarious that I was at once associated with fiery hell and icy gazes.  Someone in the room made a joking comment about my being “the icy mouth of hell.”  One of my good friends of 15 years, when I finished reading this page aloud with a completely baffled inflection and horrified look on my face, responded to my indignation with a pause and then, “This comes as a surprise to no one.”  But to me, it makes me sound hot-headed and cold-hearted.  The rest of the write-up basically called this type a callous, insensitive jerk.  There are a lot of things in the synopsis that are true, but I really struggled with the idea that I might be that hardened.  I expressed that, and my loved ones helped me understand that I could probably come off that way for people who don’t know me, especially in a formal/professional setting, but that I had never made any of them feel that way.  They reminded me that I’m the one they come to with their problems — why would they do that if I really were the icy mouth of hell?  Still, is this what strangers get from me, even if I’m not trying to project a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe (which, admittedly, I often am)?  Yikes.

My interpretation?  “You’re kind of an intimidating bitch with no regard for human emotion.”

Next nugget:

“[…]ENTJs are characterized by an often ruthless level of rationality, using their drive, determination and sharp minds to achieve whatever end they’ve set for themselves. Perhaps it is best that they make up only three percent of the population, lest they overwhelm the more timid and sensitive personality types that make up much of the rest of the world…” —16personalities.com

While ENTJs make up only 3% of the (US) population, only 1% are women (and this source says ENTJs are only 2% of the population, not even 3).  Next… ruthless?!  I’m rational, yeah, but SHIT.  Ruthless?  That word came up A LOT in all the different things I read while indulging my narcissism, and it was hard to ignore.  The only other word that came up with that frequency was “arrogant,” which to me is the most abhorrent trait in a human being, and I hate that I may be that way myself.

16personalities.com takes this typing a step further with a hyphenated suffix at the end of the 4-letter code, either the letter A (assertive) or T (turbulent [which I think would be better described as timid]).  Guess which one this ENTJ asshole got?  A, of course.  ENTJ-A.  Being ruthless, arrogant, and icy wasn’t quite enough.

Sigh.

Primarily, in my scouring of online resources on ENTJ, I found myself agreeing generally with a lot of the typology.  The biggest one that came up is a thought that I’ve had before, but never made the connection to the concept that it might have to do with my personality.  It’s basically that ENTJs crave criticism, need criticism, and respond well to criticism, but no one criticizes them, probably because they assume that based on their assertive/aggressive tendencies, ENTJs will lash out when they hear it.

People really don’t give me criticism; you’d think that for as awkward as I am about accepting praise and compliments, the reason would be that I’m used to the opposite.  Nope.  I’m bad at hearing positives about myself because, like, what do you do with that, then?  With criticism, you can respond with action (you can also ignore it if you’re self-aware and self-possessed enough to know when it’s BS) and use it to improve something unappealing about yourself.  With a compliment… what, your work is done?  That feels like a lopsided transaction.

I know, boo-hoo, no one criticizes me!   It’s sure as shit not because I’m perfect, so maybe the absence of criticism is the criticism:  I’m unapproachable.  I never thought that of myself, but maybe it’s what I project with all my icy-mouth-of-hell stuff.

Hmm.

Anyway, all of this got me thinking about my history with Myers-Briggs and why I scored so inconsistently until now, when I suddenly became a solid ENTJ, keeping company with the likes of Napoleon and Hitler (yes, seriously).  What’s up with that?

Well, I’ve changed a lot in the last year.  I’ve intentionally created a structure — a very RIGID structure — for myself so that I can do what I need to do and make sure I prioritize my time to allow myself to live healthily and lose weight.  This has meant intentionally acting selfishly and having to stop myself from feeling guilty about it.  It’s meant saying no to invitations to social gatherings because I didn’t want to be around the alcohol and the greasy food.  As a result, I’ve had to become my own best friend, and at least I’ve always been a good friend.  I’ve stuck up for myself, I’ve protected myself, and yeah, I’ve been assertive in situations with other people out of self-interest in defense of myself.  All of this has had the side effect of giving me some killer self-confidence, and I have less patience than ever for bull shit (because I have less time than ever to put up with it) and more faith than ever in myself.  Maybe all of this is a net positive, but it’s naturally changed the way I would respond to any personality-indicating questions on some standardized test based on introspection, and it’s no surprise if it’s hardened me.  I’m physically tougher, I’m mentally tougher, and I’m emotionally tougher.  It doesn’t make me heartless, icy, or even ruthless, though.  It just makes me prepared to continue what has been a very challenging process, and one that I can count on to only get more difficult.

So, as much as ENTJ is a pretty unattractive personality type, it has some positives, too:  tenacity, determination, commitment to goals, drive, focus, motivation, and strong will.  I need ALL OF THAT, so thank goodness I was able to cultivate it in myself.  I sure as hell wasn’t born with it, at least not this strain of it.

And hey, I even hope I get to keep some of it.  If my ENTJ-A self sticks to my plan, I’ll have hit my overall goal before the end of 2016, meaning I will be able to pull off the gas a little bit.  Maybe I’ll have more time to have fun.  Maybe I’ll stop thinking of other people’s demands as bull shit and look forward to phone calls and e-mails and spontaneity again.  Maybe I’ll change again as a result.  If I do — and hell, even if I don’t — I bet that if I take a Myers-Briggs-ish test again a year from now, I’ll get a different result.

But for now, the only results that matter are the health ones.  My truest personality will solidify once I’m through this tunnel.

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DAY 271: Before pants

I pulled these out today.  They’re my Lane Bryant (gag) size 24 (vomit) “nice” pants that are on my milestones aspirations list as the ones I want to be able to fit into one leg of some day soon.

Here’s where we’re at on progress to goal:

 

For the record, I did try to fit into one leg today just to see, and it almost actually happened.  If my calves weren’t Superman size, I think it would have been a go.  I’ll run the experiment again in a couple more lost pants sizes and see.

In the present… check out all that extra fabric!

The first photo is with the pants zipped up and pulled as high up as they will go (which is just below my bust), and pulled all the way to the side (NOT the front).  The photo is turned in the wrong direction in this post, but I noticed it after uploading and am far too lazy to fix it.  😉

The photo in the middle is with the pants pulled up to where they’re supposed to be with the extra fabric pulled forward to make them fit my form.

The final photo is the bouquet of fabric in my hand as seen from my vantage point after I took the middle picture in the mirror.

I’ve been feeling really raggedy this week, so I’m glad I did this.  I’ve donated several boxes of clothing every month since July or August, and this is the only article of clothing that no longer fits — aside from the before dress — that I’ve kept.  I’ve tried these pants on a couple of times since starting my weight loss, but the loss hasn’t been as striking before today.  Today, it was impossible for them to stay on; they just fell right to the floor, no matter how many ways I bent or twisted to anchor the waist band onto a curve so they’d at least hang off me.  I can’t believe these were my go-to professional attire just 9 months ago.  They look ridiculous now, both on me and off.

I still have time to make the weight goal I set for myself for the end of this year, and I may have found the motivation I need to get me there.  I think I’ll keep my sad pants out in plain sight for a while.

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DAY 265: It’s not you, it’s me

I think whatever lessons I learned this summer about where I stand in terms of preparedness for dating must have fallen into the abyss of my throat V.  I stupidly went on a date this weekend.

It went a bit better than the last one.  For me, there’s a positive correlation between pounds lost and self-confidence in all situations, and dating is no exception.  The lead-up was almost not at all nerve-racking, and I felt calm and comfortable pretty much throughout.  Start to finish, I’d say it was… fine.  And yet, I’m so not in it to win it.  So why am I bothering??

It may have something to do with the fact that my life-long friend (no joke, I’ve known this girl since the day I was born) got engaged right after Thanksgiving, my best friend is headed rapidly along that trajectory, and the rest of my local girlfriends are suddenly in relationships, too.  It may also be because every time I start feeling kind of pretty, I have some weird impulse to check that theory on a living, breathing, human male.  It could also be a result of this freak December heat wave (it was 70 frikkin’ degrees today!) throwing off the senses and getting people all twitterpated (YEAH, I said it).

It could be all of these things.  It could be none of these things.

I just know I hate what I see when I take off my clothes.  I’m actually thinking about talking to my doctor in January about possible options to address some of that when all of this is said and done.  It sounds vain, but I can’t explain how upsetting it is to see the wear on my body.  I’ve put it through a lot, and I’m proud of the hard work behind what it shows, but I’m so self-conscious about the stretch marks and other ugly features on this wasted landscape that I can’t really see myself getting past it.

These guys who flirt with me, who hit on me, who hold my hand, who put their arms around me… they don’t know what they’re getting into.

The guy from this weekend, he was nice enough.  I wasn’t really feeling chemistry, but I wasn’t in agony just waiting for the date to end.  (How much of the lack of chemistry is psychological resistance on my part is debatable.)  And yet, he’d asked for a second date before the first one was over.  He held me a little too long parting ways.  Since we saw each other, he’s been all… talky.

What?  I don’t get it.  

I partly don’t get it because I still find myself so unattractive that it doesn’t compute that anyone would see me differently.  Yeah, there’s been improvement over the past 9 months, but that’s all relative to me.  In the grand scheme of things, compared to the rest of the gals out there, I’m still a 3 trying to claw my way to 4 status.

I continue to not get it because I was giving it like 60%, personality wise.  It’s kinda like, “Dude, you were into that watered-down version of me?  I’m SO MUCH BETTER than that!”  I know, weird thought progression, right?  Just wait.

Here’s where I veer off into the ridiculous:  I actually kind of judge this guy for being interested in me.  How fucked up is that?!  As if I have the right to judge anyone for anything, let alone him for that!

Then again, that’s only when I allow myself to believe he actually is interested in me, and not just desperate or under the assumption that fat beggars can’t be fat choosers, so I’ll be all in because I’m desperate.

It doesn’t matter what the truth is.  Bottom line:  I am obviously not where I need to be physically in order to be where I need to be mentally in order to date anyone.

Shut it down.

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DAY 263: Persistence

I’ve been trying to do a milestones update every 50 days, but you may have noticed I didn’t do one on day 250.  Sadly, day 250 is the day I got sick, so I didn’t have the presence of mind to make a blog post at the time (nor did I even realize it was a milestones day).  This update will sort of stand in for that missed entry.

First, shortly before Thanksgiving, an executive at my office ran into me in the kitchen and commented on my weight loss.  Mind you, this is a very senior, statured person with whom I have almost no interaction; I didn’t know she knew my name, let alone that she had noticed my progress.  She commended my hard work and asked me how much I had lost.  I paused, then decided to go for it and tell her the number.  I admitted I hadn’t shared it with anyone, and she started to say I didn’t have to tell her, but then I just blurted it out.  It was a little crazy hearing it out loud, but it also felt kind of good to say… I’ve lost almost 100 pounds.

So it’s really no wonder why I’m noticing the following small changes that are probably only perceptible to me:

  • I can now see three bones in each hand.  At first, I couldn’t see any.  Sometime over the summer, the first one emerged.  Out of nowhere, two other ones just showed up.  I wonder how many there actually are in there waiting to pop out?!  I’ve never thought about it before!
  • The shape of my ass has changed.  The most recent underwear I bought still fit around my hips, but they sag in the seat.  This sounds funny, but my butt was kind of squared off before.  It’s starting to actually look like a human rear end now.  It’s round and bootylicious.
  • I noticed at my last couple of token weigh-ins for DB that when I look down at the scale, I see more space between my toes.  The first time I saw extra black between my toes, it actually startled me.  OMG, what’s wrong with my foot?!  Oh, wait…!
  • My shirts fit more loosely around my shoulder blades, of all things.  It used to be that when I put my jacket on, I didn’t have much of a wing span because the fabric was restricted by the width of my upper torso.  Lately, it’s much looser.  It’s not just the jacket, either; I’ve felt a difference in the way T-shirts, button-down shirts, and even my sports bras sit on that part of my body.  Who knew that would be noticeable?
  • My cheeks have new angles!  They were so round when I was bigger that my face looked swollen all the time.  My cheeks were actually so rotund that I couldn’t see beyond them; I would have to turn my head to check that my earrings were hanging right or my hair was OK.  Seriously.  Faces can be that fat.  Then, with the right changes, they can start looking like adult faces that might have a shot at being pretty some day.  🙂
  • My belly has shrunken in a northerly fashion.  Yeah, I worded that strangely on purpose.  The result is NOT that my stomach looks smaller (yet), but that my legs look longer.  That sentence, coming from a life-long member of the Stumpy Leg Club, is insane.
  • Now, here’s the one I’m really geeked about… GUYS.  I have a throat V!!!  (Google tells me this is called the suprasternal notch.  Also, please appreciate that I had to look up what this is called because it’s such a foreign concept to me!)  You know, the small of the throat, where elegant woman in jewelry ads always have a tiny diamond delicately nestled from their expensive platinum chains.  A this.  Mine is not always visible (yet!), but it is more often than not.  And I love it.  It’s my new favorite feature of my villain beard.

I’ve been feeling stymied from the past month of a post-vacation weight gain, moderate indulgence at Thanksgiving, and an immediately ensuing illness that kept me from exercise.  It can be a slippery slope to returning to past harmful behavior in such circumstances, especially when you’re home alone all day, every day, for a week, with an uncooperative scale and a bevy of food-delivery services available via a few quick taps on the phone screen.

BUUUT…

I knocked 5.6 pounds off of my post-vacation weight in spite of all that, and have hit a new low weight.  I did not overdo it at Thanksgiving, and I didn’t stray even a hair from my food plan even in the grip of the sickness that JUST WOULD NOT QUIT.  It’s been a slog, and it’s been a true mental challenge to stay on the eating plan when it felt like there was no pay-off, but I DID IT.

And that’s how you lose 100 pounds.  Look for THAT milestone on day 300.

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DAY 262: Once an addict…

Some people, like me, have addictive personalities.  I’ve been this way ever since I was a small child who obsessively watched the same movie over and over again on repeat until I got sick of it.  I’ve done this throughout childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, with everything from movies to TV shows to songs to books and even to people.  It’s an odd pattern of novelty becoming comfortable, then too familiar, then boring and/or annoying, which triggers a need for something new… until the pattern itself gets annoying and I return to something old and known until I again wear out my interest in that and need to go back to the new again.  I don’t know what it is that makes me this way, but I know it’s always been how I am, and I therefore have no expectation of changing it.

Obviously, the worst place where this special little cycle of mine pops up is with food.  Remember Oreo Cakesters?  You don’t?  Well, you must have been sleeping during that period where they existed, and I ate them all before you had a chance to try them.  (They have since mercifully been discontinued.)  I also had a Papa John’s phase, a fried chicken phase, even a freaking Hamburger Helper phase, just to name a few.  These were all bad food-addiction/compulsion-fueled habits I had before I had the thing that changed it all:  a routine.

Now that I have a framework within which to conduct my daily life, everything else is so much easier.  I’ve learned to adapt my addictive personality to a healthy way of life, which means preparation, preparation, preparation.  I’ve also learned that you can apply a potentially dangerous pattern to a positive endeavor by simply replacing the addiction.  (Simple in concept, of course.  It’s certainly a challenge in practice!)  I’m no longer obsessed with filling my belly; I’m obsessed with shrinking it.  I’m addicted to exercise.

Yesterday was the first time I’ve attempted my (formerly) usual elliptical run since before I got sick, which was well before Thanksgiving.  I’m still not entirely recovered, and my body is not keeping that a secret; I was coughing and my nose was running from just a couple of minutes in.  In the end, I was only able to do one mile of my usual 3+, but I’m happy to report that my speed is still intact (under 12 minutes!), and DAMN, it felt good to sweat from something besides a fever!

I’ve amped up the fitness addiction by signing up for more Diet Bets.  As of yesterday, I am now committed and paid into a total of FIVE (one of which I’m hosting — join me!) between now and mid-February.  I’m still trying to recover the lost ground in my Transformer, and it doesn’t look like I’ll quite get there in time for the round 4 weigh-in a week from now, but I WILL win the game.  I’ve also set a pretty ambitious goal to hit for the end of the year.  I won’t be crushed if I don’t hit it, but I WILL totally redeem myself — and be a total fucking champion — if I do.

Finally, I set up another follow-up appointment with my fabulous doctor for January 19th, 6 months after my last visit with her.  I can’t wait to hear what she’ll have to say at that visit!  It gives me extra motivation to reach my goals.

Through replacing the addiction, I’ve become so singularly focused on achieving my fitness goals that I’ve gone back to not even caring about my old trigger foods.  Those plates of temptation are just masses of needless calories that will sabotage my plans and make me mad at myself.  Why go down a path of destruction?  I’ll pass.  Gym, please.

Sorry, Christmas cookies.  Maybe next year!

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DAY 259: Personal weight-loss soundtrack

This is the music that got me through the last 9 months of killing it to bring myself back to life.  I would not have made it through a single workout without these beats!  Now that I’m finally well enough to resume my demanding cardio routines, I’ve busted out the ol’ play list on my iPod again, and it’s given me quite a trip down memory lane.  Here are my favorite memorable selections from my weight-loss mission so far, in song-of-the-month fashion.

 

April:  “Get Busy” by Sean Paul
No one brings it quite like Sean-a-Paul.  This was the first song I jogged for a solid minute to.  Shake.  Dat.  Thing.

Girl get busy, just shake that booty nonstop
When the beat drops, just keep swinging it

POUNDS LOST:  21.6

May:  “Survivor” by Destiny’s Child
This is kind of an obvious choice for work-out music, but I was feeling it in May while working on reclaiming endurance on the elliptical.  This song is what brought me through that final intense 4-minute interval on numerous occasions.

I’m a survivor!
I’m not gon’ give up!
I’m not gon’ stop!
I’m gon’ work harder!

POUNDS LOST:  12.8

June:  “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten
Another obvious choice, but it happened to be both the message I needed AND the BPM I was running at — well, as much as one “runs” on the elliptical — back in June.  BOOM!

And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
Cuz I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me!

POUNDS LOST:  11.6

July:  “Bailando” by Enrique Iglesias ft. a bunch of other dudes (English version)
Ahhh, July.  I was so tan, so warm, got so much lighter so fast, and started getting sooooo into dancing.  This was my jam of preference for all that dancin’ around my apartment I did after my first shopping spree in normal-people stores while checking myself out in all those new duds.  And while cooking.  And while doing the dishes.  And while brushing my teeth.  And while walking down the street.  And while sitting in my desk chair at work.  And everywhere else.  While doing everything.  All the time.

I wanna be contigo, and live contigo,
And dance contigo, para have contigo
Una noche loca…

POUNDS LOST:  12

August:  “Bang Bang” by Jessie J. ft. Nicki Minaj & Ariana Grande
Out of nowhere, this song from a full year earlier bang-banged into my headphones and made me run faster.  It would sneak up in my play list and give me a sudden burst of energy.  A month after making it part of my regular workouts, it played while I finished running my spontaneous first-ever full mile straight.

See, anybody could be good to you
You need a bad girl to blow your mind!

POUNDS LOST:  10.6

September:  “Love Myself” by Hailee Seinfeld
I know this song is about, er, something else, but whatever.  Some double entendres start dirty and work to a cleaner second level.  Good beat, right (scrubbed) lyrics, solid sweat.  This shit makes me wanna fist pump fo’eva.

I love me
Gonna love myself
And I don’t need anybody else!

POUNDS LOST:  7

October:  “Semi-Charmed Life” by Third Eye Blind
The radio edited version of this song is only good.  Without the killer ripple of an extended bridge, it’s just another fairly monotonous song about being high on meth.  In the full version, the music kind of gets a second wind in the middle of the song, and it’s contagious when you start adapting your cardio to the treadmill after months of straight elliptical.  As a work-out song, this version is surprisingly SPECTACULAR pavement-pounding music.

And when the plane came in,
She said she was crashin’
The velvet, it rips in the city
We tripped on the urge to feel alive

POUNDS LOST:  4.6

November:  “Exes and Ohs” by Elle King
I’m afraid this is another song where my terrible dancing doesn’t care about making public appearances.  Holy shit, if you can’t move your ass to this song, you might be half dead.  It’s also excellent for power walking insanely steep, never-ending hills.  It’s awesome to belt out, too.  (Thank God I live alone.)  ENERGIZE!

I get high, and I love to get low
So the hearts keep breaking, and the heads just roll
You know that’s how the story goes

POUNDS LOST:  2.4

December:  “Runaway Baby” by Bruno Mars
I am not ashamed to admit that I had never heard this song until a pair of dancers did a routine to it on Dancing with the Stars.  Which I watched this season.  No shame.  Anyway, the first verse hadn’t even ended before I was downloading it and putting it onto my “Move!” play list.  Tonight, I did something I have never done:  I jogged to it OUTSIDE.  In doing so, I discovered it’s my new BPM jogging speed.  Mama’s getting fast.  🙂

Run, run, run away,
Run away, baby!

POUNDS LOST:  ??

And one that ALWAYS does the trick:  “More” by Usher
This is my classic go-to jam that I put on to pump up my cardio when I need it most.  The beat, the bad-ass lyrics, the self-assuredness I can’t help but feel as soon as it starts… this is my quintessential exercise song for all of time.  WOOOO!

Leave it on the floor, bring out the fire
And light it up, take it up higher
Gonna push it to the limit
Give it MORE!
It’s good to be back.

 

**Note:  I started at the end of March by dropping a crap ton of weight through only nutrition-based changes, so March work-out songs and pounds lost are not included here.

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DAY 255: Shackled up

Another day home sick, another day  of no working out.  Blech.

I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of glad for the excuse to take time away from work.  It’s killed my exercise, though.  I’m sure my weight is not dropping from the very strenuous physical demands of shuffling between the couch-tea kettle-bathroom triangle, and even though I’ve been staying on track with eating (in spite of a highly irregular hunger pattern), I’m pissed to be missing YET ANOTHER week of fixing myself.

Luckily, the universe is still looking out for me.  While digging around in my Fuck-It Bucket™ for a candle lighter, I came across the second wrist band that came with my VivoFit:  the small band.  Oddly, I was searching for this over the summer when the weight was rapidly dropping off, and I couldn’t find it.  I swear I looked in my Bucket, as that’s where I always put things that have no logical categorical storage place, and it definitely wasn’t there.  It just wasn’t time for me to find it.

When I picked up the small band, I felt my eyes go wide like a Disney character.  Earlier the same day, I had been poking around on Amazon to see if there was a sale on VivoFit yet to get one for my mom, who is interested in getting one for herself.  I was reading the specs and noticed that the difference in the small end of notches in the large band and the large end of notches in the small band have some overlap.  Since I’m down to where I can wear the large band around my wrist on the last set of notches available, the I-wonder voice spoke up:  I wonder if you can wear this band now?

Well…


Sho ’nuff can.

I’m wearing my small band on notches 2 and 3, and my (crusty-ass!) large band at the same notches, but I slid it to the point where it naturally fits on my arm now.  I started out wearing the large band only one notch farther over, on 3 and 4, on my WRIST, just 11 months ago.  Within the next 11 months, I’ll probably be able to get that sucker around my ankle.

Viva the Vivo!