Yogis

Back in the day, before I had babies and when I had the luxury of imagining myself as 'sooooo fat' as opposed to the uncomfortably recognition that, um, dude?...I'm fat....I did yoga.

Lots and lots of yoga.

I belonged to an all-women's gym in those days, and the girl who taught my favorite class, Body Flow, had a really nice ass. I say that in the most hetero way possible. In all candor, I kept going back to that class with the hope in my little heart that someday my ass would resemble hers.

It never did. But it WAS a much smaller ass than the one I am currently sporting, and it was attached to a body that was flexible and had a good sense of balance to it. I probably should have been at least mildly offended when the old biddies in class would commend my 'surprising' nimbleness because what they were really saying was that a chubby chick shouldn't be able to bend like that. But instead I just smugly thanked them and reminded myself that they wished to be ME just as I wished to be Hot Yoga Ass Girl.

And then I got pregnant with Luca. I kept going to the gym through most of my pregnancy, up until bacterial gastroenter-something-something struck me down while on a trip to Mexico. And then I just never really went back. I wanted to. Heaven knows I needed to. But motherhood was a rising tide of leaky body and lovesick swooning and sleepless nights. And if we're being honest it's the sleepless night that did me in more than anything. Luca was a puff of magic in our lives, but at night she was more like Puff the Magic Dragon. I quite literally would fall asleep half sitting with her nursing, and wake at 4:30 when she was ready to be up for the day, her still semi-attached to me and my legs numb and arms and neck cricked and crunched. If ever I needed yoga, it was then. But that fatigue was all-consuming and sleep was at a premium. Add to it the late bedtime and early morning hours kept by our resident Diva, and a soul-gripping need to be with her as much as humanly (and, sometimes, inhumanly) possible and there was just No Time For The Gym.

So, yoga and Body Flow disappeared from my life. And I managed, but after Rohan came along I noticed a few things about my new body that upset me. I mean, in addition to the extra weight I am still struggling with, there were other changes. Stiffer shoulders. More lower back pain. A tightness in my hips. Sore feet and tired bones. When I was on maternity leave I proudly started the 30 day shred, and though I did blog about it it's too embarassing a failure to even link to now. It went by the wayside as soon as I was back at work and had both a baby who was not fond of sleeping through the night, and a toddler AND baby who thought anything later than 5:15 a.m. was highly unsuitable an hour to sleep in until.

But now here I am, still picking away slowly at the numbers on the scale and trying to get back to some sense of 'me'. I am not ready nor in a position in terms of schedule to rejoin a gym. It's just not going to happen, since it would necessitate leaving my house after 9 pm or before 5 am to work out AND not miss out on the time with my kids. And if you don't know this about me already: I am a fool for those children and would move mountains for more time in the day with them.

So I've dusted off my old friend Denise Austin and decided to give yoga a whirl again. And I remembered right away why I love it. It won't burn 1,000 calories...sure...but it does make me feel stronger, taller, leaner, more graceful, and more centered. And those are the things I need in life. I can attest tot he fact that not doing yoga in 3+ years has left me unstable, unsteady, and uncoordinated. But my body will re-learn the joy of a good stretch and the power of being 'surprisingly nimble' once again. And more than that, it's giving me a time to focus on me, to re-center and re-balance and re-connect to myself physically and mentally.

Here's to being a yogi once more!

12 Over, 10 Off.

My BL challenge with friends is over, and I finished it off by hitting my 10 lb. mark.

WOO HOO?

Yes and no.

I am happy those pounds are gone, and happy to see smaller numbers when I step on the scale. I'm thrilled that I not only dropped the weight I had put back on last week, but also lost another pound + this week.

But on the other hand, I'm disappointed that's all the loss I've seen. I'm frustrated that the weeks I've followed WW to a fault I've not lost more than I have during my less-stellar weeks. I'm annoyed that my body looks to same as it did 10 pounds ago. I let myself down by not pushing harder.

And then at the same time, I know it's far from over. I know I will reach my goals...every last one of them little loss by little loss. Because I'm doing it for myself. For my hubby. For my kids.

I will hit my first goal very soon (this week?) and when I do I'll check it proudly off my list and move on to the next. I know it's going to take a long time, and I've accepted that. I've worked hard to make the changes from the past 12 weeks into a lifestyle, not a routine aimed at quick weight loss. While I'll admit to being tempted several times to cut out carbs, go on a cleanse, drink only Slim Fast Shakes, or use some other absurdly unsustainable method of weight loss, I have not caved. And I won't. Instead I will suffer the slow loss, bitch and moan until my readers stop checking my blog on Mondays (::wink::), try to replace self-loathe with self-confidence, and carry on.
I'm so close to my first goal I can almost taste it! My plan to get there is simple: I've dropped 2 points off my WW target since starting, so that alone should help. I'm going to track my points daily, keep on getting in that active time (in the past week we did the zoo, walks with the kids, and yoga....and I think those 2+ pounds I chased away are proof that activity will kick things up for me some), and take time for myself. When I'm well rested, happy, and keeping my mind in a positive place, I do much better!
 
I'm going to try posting a weekly goal list for myself, just so I can check back on it next week and see how I've done. So for this week, I aim to:

~ Get outside and get active at least 3 evenings
~ Do yoga at least twice
~ Drink all my water every day (an area I've been slacking in, which I KNOW makes a huge difference)
~ Track my food every day and aim for my target points without dipping into the flex points
~ Work off any flex points I DO end up eating by walking the stairs in my house and doing stretching and strength exercise
 
My weight loss goal for this week is 2 pounds. I really truly believe I can do it!

One Week Left.

My BL Challenge with friends ends next week, and I'm only coming up with one word that describes how I am feeling today: discouraged.

First, my husband was out of town Friday and part of Saturday, thus throwing my whole weekend off mentally. That meant that Sunday morning when I woke, rather than jumping on the scale to WI, I ate breakfast. Oops. And then by the time I realized it WAS Sunday and I WAS due to WI, I had downed lunch too. Not bad...not unhealthy...just food, which = weight on the scale.

I weighed in anyhow, because you can't just skip a week you know. And therein lies frustration #2: I cheated on my promise to myself that I would not WI in the middle of the week 'just to see how it's going'. Doing that leads to either getting super excited about the loss I see so far and deciding a little (BIG) Starbucks won't sabotage me THAT much -OR- being really let down by a lack of progress and mentally giving the week up as a failure. But I did it...and I was down. WAY down. And so perhaps I splurged a tiny bit on Friday (Starbucks coffee in the a.m., Mexican food for lunch, Starbucks tea in the p.m., cookies for dessert). But I had the extra points for it so I *should* have been ok.

I was not ok.

Because here's what I discovered about scales: they can be fancy and they can be new and they can measure your weight AND your body fat...but on saltillo tile they just might suck at giving you consistent readings.

So that 'Oh my gosh I am DOWN THREE POUNDS!' turned into 'Um, what the hell?!?! UP a pound?? How did THAT happen???' in a matter of 2 days. And while cloaked in denial, I decided to test a theory, and began to move the scale to different spots in the bathroom. And each spot? A different reading.

Conclusions for this week:
1. Starbucks is not the devil when you order a skinny vanilla latte and keep it to ONE drink per week.
2. My scale needs a new home. We'll try the flat cement floors in the garage first, the dumpster second.
3. With 1 week left in this challenge, I'm not going to win....but I HAVE lost. And DAMMIT I WILL try to hold firmly to the success of that even when it's not as great a success as I'd hoped for!

Things That Have Not Happened In A Long Time.

I stepped on the scale on Sunday and realized that I weigh less now than I have in over 15 months. I'm still just shy of my 10 pound marker, but it's so close I can almost taste it (and it tastes like Bagel Thins, low-fat cream cheese, fresh fruits and veggies, and lots and lots of water).

Easter threatened to derail me this week, with its marshmallows glittering with pink sugar crystals and its jelly beans (but they're fat free!) and M&Ms in rose petal pink and sunny yellow. And despite the fact a 2 year old and a 1 year old don't need ANY candy, they received LOTS OF candy from the Easter Bunny who visited both sets of Grandparents. And in my past life (you know, the one I lived in until a few months ago) I would have packaged all that candy into a Ziploc bag and squirrled it away into the top drawer of my desk and mindlessly plowed my way through it in a matter of a few days.

Instead, I jarred it. I am not kidding....I put the candy into Mason jars (3 large ones, btw, which HELLO! We do NOT need that much candy!). One jar is in my office for visitors. One jar is going to work with my husband. And one jar is in our home, but I can handle it. It's weird: pretty candy in a jar I leave alone, and it takes me weeks if not months to finish it. Proof can be found in the fact that I had to empty one of the jars of last year's leftover Easter candies before I could fill it with this year's. Pretty candy in a Ziploc baggies? Eaten, and fast.

Here's the other thing about keeping candy in a jar: it's VERY hard to pretend you're eating less than you are, because you can clearly see how much the level sinks each day. And with it sitting smack on the corner of my desk in plain view of co-workers and anyone else who stops into my office, I would be embarassed if that level dropped too rapidly. It's like self-control via humiliation. And since I otherwise lack self control, the humiliation factor is vital for me.

But on the flip side of that, I am also motivated by positives. And while I patiently(ish) wait for my jeans to feel looser, I had something else happen this weekend which has not happened in so long, I sadly cannot remember the last time it did.

I got hit on. By a stranger. At a bar.

::pumps fist::

Now, we are going to brush over the details (including the fact he wasn't exactly the hottest dude in the place), and focus on this: I got hit on. By a stranger. At a bar packed with skinnies and cleavage-bearers and high heels. And not only did he come by once and attempt to talk me out of waiting in line to get in (apparently said bar was hosting a casting call for Big Brother, so they were at maximum capacity and only letting people in when other people left) once, but he came back for a second run. I had to point to my ring and tell him, "I'm flattered, but I'm also married." which...let's be honest married girls...was just about the biggest boost a married mom of two still carrying the baby weight could get.

And it reminded me: I am not the sum of the numbers on that scale. I'm a whole lot of other things, most of them pretty fucking fantastic, and though my road may be long, there's still a lot to enjoy along the way.

20 in 20 Week...Uh....Week....Heh.

I've lost count on the 20 in 20 thing, but I DO know my Biggest Loser challenge with friends is nearly over, and I am NOT winning. I'm in last place, actually, but in my defense there were 8 people in the competition and two have not checked in for 2 weeks and thus been disqualified.

I know what is missing is exercise, but I'm failing to find the answer to the age old, "Where oh where will I fit that in?" question. As it is, I wake at 5:30 a.m., and from then on out I'm running around between kids and husband and work and commute. No...really...you would think my average early morning routine alone would be helping me shed the ol' Ell Bees. But it's not. And that morning routine is basically completed in reverse when I get home in the evening, ending around 9 p.m. when I collapse onto the floor for an hour of TV or on the couch for emails and blogs and Facebook and reading and bills and what-have-you.

SO....finding the time, not to mention the energy, to work out on weekdays is an art form of which I know nothing, clearly. But I'm at the point in this journey where almost 10 pounds are gone (DAMN that took long enough!) and I am ready to start feeling less shlumpy and more healthy.

So my plan is this: we own a recumbent bike. I KNOW I KNOW! It's not as good or as thorough as a cardio blast class or boot camp or even a good old-fashioned jog. But it's convenient and it's free and it's something I can and will do. However, it's also currently living in my in-laws' basement. So I want to bring it home. Dust it off. Carry it upstairs to my room (the only place in this house which looked SO BIG to use before we grew into a family of 3, then 4) and set it up. Plug the TV in up there because as it stands now we have 1 TV and it's downstairs and I CANNOT sit on a recumbent bike with no TV to distract me. And then I want to get to work.

But for now, and until we can make that happen, I'm happily cruising along and making healthy food choices and taking my losses in small bits and pieces. This week I was down 1 more pound. I remain frustrated that I'm seeing results so slowly, but I also remain committed, consistent, and realistic. This is a long-term solution for me...a goal not just to drop a few and win some cash but to get stronger and healthier and fitter and happier. And I WILL do it!

Recommit.

Every day, I make the decision to recommit.

I wake up and remind myself, "Today is another day and another chance to make the right choices."

From the moment I wake each day, I am planning what the day will look like and how it will help me (or not) to reach my goal. What kind of breakfast will start the day off right, with a full belly to sustain me all morning? What will I eat for lunch? Do we have enough healthy options for me to pack my lunch and take it (which I do usually at least 4 of 5 work days)? Or will I be going out for lunch today? What about snacks? Water? What goes in my coffee? What are we going to eat for dinner tonight?

And then I get to work, and I recommit again when faced with the Ziploc of Skittles on the breakroom table or the donuts and bagels at the morning meeting. Instead of partaking, I drop off my own illicit goodies on the table for the lovely, beautiful women I work with to indulge on in my place. Leftover brownie bites from a weekend playdate? On the table. Cookies I baked late last night when I couldn't sleep and needed to wind down (because baking is therapy for my mind and my hands)? On the table. Shoot...even those Skittles in the Ziploc baggie were mine prior to finding their new home on the table.

At night, most of all, I make the choice to recommit. I choose the Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich over 14 Oreos dunked in milk. I opt for water instead of chocolate milk before bed. I brush my teeth early so I'm not tempted to mindlessly nibble on goodies. I read a book or clean instead of snacking. And sometimes I even go to bed way before my normal bedtime because if I'm sleeping I'm not eating.

I used to think of it as a bad thing. Wake up in the morning and "Goddamnit I'm STILL doing this thing?!?!". But something happened to me recently, and I experienced an attitude shift. I'm not sure how this happened (magic fairies in the middle of the night?) but I woke the other day and thought to myself, "Today I'm making the choice to recommit. And tomorrow too. And the next day."

Because I feel better when I eat better.

Because I have a slow-moving scale, but a fast-paced life, and there's no time to feel sorry for myself.

Because I have a daughter who is beautiful and wise and funny as hell and she looks up to me and thinks I am beautiful how I am. And I want to make her proud of me, but I also want to be the kind of woman I hope she'll grow up to be. And that means a woman who is healthy and is willing to commit to herself.

Because I have a son, who I want to grow up to view a woman's worth as more than her beauty. And whom I also want to grow up seeing him mom committing to herself and being healthy.

Because I have a closet full of clothes and not much I can wear.

Because it feels good to be in control.

-------

I am down two pounds this week, and I'd like to think it's because every day last week, I made the decision to recommit. So here's to many more days of Recommit.



I have been getting a lot of 'spambot' comments lately, so for the time being I am using the stupid 'word verification' tool for comments. I hate it but I also hate the blow to the ego when I think I have 3 comments and they are all spam.

Why 'Everything in Moderation' Does Not Work for Me

We have all heard it before: Everything in moderation! Moderation is key! You can have that donut, but just that 1! And then it's salads and cous cous for you!

Well, friends...you know who tells you these things and means them? REALLY means them? Skinny people and health nuts. And, hi my skinny and health-nutty friends! Because I know you're out there and I really do mean this will ALL due respect. But you should know that genetically blessed and overly athletic friends who say 'everything in moderation' are the fat chick's nightmare come true.

And admittedly, that's 90% to do with my (lack of) self control. I accept that fact. I own that fact. And accordingly, here's why everything in moderation does not work for me:

1. No, actually, I can NOT have that 1 donut. Because that 1 donut leads to 3 or 4 donuts. Not to salads and cous cous. Not to moderation.

2. Because 'everything in moderation' leads me to justify a grande dark cherry chocolate mocha from Starbucks* since:
a) it's seasonal!
b) I ordered it with no whip and skim milk!

3. Because I invited about 25 people to my son's birthday party, and his cake was actually 5 cakes shlepped together with 3 1/2 tubs of frosting. Moder-what?

4. Because there are leftover Skittles. And with everything in moderation, 1 or 2 Skittles have, like, NO calories, right? And I avoided those leftover Skittles for 2 days and then packed them up to bring into work and hand off to my (skinnier, eat things in moderation) co-workers. And there they sit...in my top desk drawer...taunting...taunting...

5. Because that home made cookie I can supposedly eat in moderation? It's 4 points. But the 100 calorie pack of cookies which leaves no room for discretion about how 'moderate' the serving size is? 2 points.

Moderation is not key for me. Control is key. And it's something I need to re-gain.

Because, somwhere inside the fat girl grabbing a fistful of Skittles is the girl my husband married. I want her back.



* I have Starbucks and their seasonl drink tomfoolery to thank for this post. Oh, yes, I am admitting it here and now: I thought this post out in my head as I waited in the drive thru yesterday for my Grande Non-Fat No Whip Dark Chocolate Mocha. Iced, please. And I felt just a tiny bit more virtuous when I was offered a free sample of the new pumpkin loaf and had the self-control to say, "No Thanks." So put that in your 'everything in moderation' pipe and smoke it!

I Petitioned to Skip March.

I cannot believe it's March already, and my baby is turning 1 this month. If I could skip the whole month of March I'd be inclined to because then my baby would stay a baby forever. That is how it works, right?

In addition to Rohan's first birthday, March brings several other b-days, a trip to DC (me), a trip to CA (hubby), a tie dye party, and lots of other things.

So far, March also includes another pound lost. Which means 5 total...which is SO not as fabulous as I'd hoped for but better than nothing. Right? Right? In all candor, however, it's my own damn fault it's not melting away more quickly. I have a real Friday/Saturday problem I need to get under control. I can stay within my points all week, and then Friday comes along and is all, "Hi, look at me and my deliciousness!" and I hog out. SO couterproductive, and I know better. I really do. But I also have a weakness for Mexican food and donuts (hello Friday night and Saturday morning...). And I think it's ok to indulge those weaknesses, but perhaps I need to indulge on Wednesday so that by Sunday morning evidence of said indulgence has had time to go bye-bye.

So, 5 weeks in....5 pounds lost. I didn't meet any of my goals I posted last week, but I'm moving on. One of those goals was to lose 3 pounds from where I was at WI last week, and I lost 2, so I'm calling that a success.

And also...

...my scale is the devil. I didn't get a chance yesterday to buy a new one (what with books to read and forts to build and naps to nap), so I stepped on the ODB (Old Dirty Bastard...my scale's new name) today and HELLO! Down 2 pounds.

I blame the salt from Friday night. Bloat much?

However, in the name of WW honesty, I am not claiming that 2 pounds. I'm keeping my check in the same as it was yesterday morning on my official WI day and hoping I keep this loss and add to it for next week.

New goal: 3 pounds down next Sunday. That would mean the 2 from last week stay away and I lose 1 more.

Truce.

I'm calling a truce with the scale this week. It's been messing with my mind, showing me down some, then up some, then steady. And while my first instinct is to throw a tantrum, I know that's not going to get me where I want to be.

But I am frustrated.

Step 1: I need a new scale this week. Have a fabulous digital that didn't cost $50+? Please share!

Step 2: Once I get that scale, I'm hopping on it once, then not again until next Sunday. This every day, once or twice a day thing is killing me mentally.

Step 3: Taking my points target down 2. I think this will jumpstart my loss, which will motivate me more.

Step 4: Move on!

BL Week 4 = Failure. But I'm not giving up.

Losing a Luca

No, not literally. I did not literally lose my almost-3-year-old. I mean this in terms of weight loss.

In other words, I need to Lose a Luca. This thought ocurred to me the other day, and I almost laughed mid-meeting. But then I realized, it's a good, live reminder.

So is this picture, which my brother took of me while I was visiting him and my sister-in-law in the hospital when she was in labor:



Now, don't get me wrong...I love this picture for what it is. It's so rare for me to have pictures with other people (I'm usually behind the camera) and it's a great day to capture. But I can't focus on the joy of the day when I'm so distracted by my back fat and my puffy cheeks.

And that's just sad. It gives me further motivation to really Do This Thing. I don't want to forever be looking at pictures of big days in my life and thinking "Eh, I really wish I had posed differently so my back fat wasn't showing!"

I'm down 1.5 pounds this week, which I am pretty proud of, but there's so much more to go. If I want to lose a Luca, I need to lose 27 pounds, and so far I've lost 4. But that's 4 pounds I've kissed goodbye and don't ever plan to see again!

Donuts are the Key to Weight Loss.

For real, though...if you live in or around Chandler and you kinda like donuts, you need to go to BoSa on Az Ave and Ray. Because your kinda like will become rabidly love. I promise. If you're not sure you believe me, order a buttermilk knot, and thank me all the way to the Fat Farm.

Or, as it were this week....the Less-Fat Farm? Because I totally caved this weekend and went out for donuts with my hubby and kids on Saturday. And of course we didn't get one donut to share...we bought the whole dozen. When you know you have to face the scale on Sunday morning, why not mow down a few donuts the day before, right? In my defense....um, I have no defense really except DAMN THOSE DONUTS ARE GOOOOOOOD.

Eaten: 1 boston creme, 1/4 buttermilk knot, and a bite of Luca's pink iced donut.

Lost: 1.5 pounds.

On one hand, this shows me that if I follow the WW plan all week, I can SO splurge now and then and not feel deprived while still managing to lose weight.

On the other hand, did I mention how damn good those donuts are?!?!?

Aside from the donuts, though, I did quite a bit of cooking at home this week. My focus was on healthier dinners, which is where I tend to struggle. So I have been practicing homemade sweet potato fries, pan-grilling veggie burgers, using whole grain breads, eating lots of veggies, and satisfying my sweet tooth with low-point desserts. And you know? I'm not missing the 'bad' stuff because I'm having a pretty good time trying new recipes and eating fresh. The best part is that in Arizona we can get lots of fresh produce all year-round, which definitely keeps me on track.

I'm not winning the BL challenge with my friends, but it's only week 2, and we have several more weeks to go. Some of the girls on the challenge are shooting for losing 15-20%, but I know myself and I know that will never happen. So my goals are:

1: Lose 5%, which would get me...um...still way heavier than I want to be? But 5% LESS heavy. Yup.

2: Lose 10%, which, according to WW, has these benefits:
- Lowers your blood pressure (I have a genetic predisposition to high blood pressure, and have never personally had a problem with it, but I will do whatever I need to in order to keep it that way!)and reduces your risk for having a stroke.
- Reduces your risk for developing diabetes. If you’re already a person with diabetes, losing weight can help to improve insulin function and lower your blood sugar levels.
- Reduces cholesterol levels (Again, I have a family history of hogh cholesterol, and have not had problems with it myself, but don't ever want to either!).
- Reduces strain on your joints.
- Feel great! Your clothes will feel looser, you’ll feel more energetic, and your new habits will start to feel a little more like second nature!

When I hit 10%, I'm going to celebrate with something special. I'm not sure what yet, but maybe a facial and massage?

3: Lose 15%, which will get me into a hell of a lot of clothes in my closet that don't currently fit.

4: Lose 20%, which will get me to where I think I will feel more comfortable in my skin.

5: Get to pre-babies weight. Which, sadly, is more than 20% loss. I almost wish I hadn't done the math, because I'm feeling a little bleh about THAT.

And about the BL challenge, I'll be honest: I'm banking on some people losing steam about 4 or 5 weeks in, and hoping my slow and steady wins the race. I am tortoise, they are hare? We'll see.

20 in 20 Week 4...Did She Give Up Already?

No, no I did not.

What I DID was changed my challenge a bit. Some friends and I started a Biggest Loser challenge, which began on Sunday. We had to take a photo of our start weight, and every week we report in with the % of weight we lost. The winner will get $175, and runner up gets $25 (we each pay in $25), and must verify their start weight with the picture, as well as their end weight with a picture.

So I weighed myself Sunday, but normall for 20 in 20 I was weighing in on Monday or Tuesday, which threw that off. So I skipped the 20/20 WI this week, and will report back next week with that as well as how I did with the BL challenge.

And, I broke my own vow to myself and joined WW online again. It's just more convenient for me to pay $4ish a week to have an online tool where I can quickly track my food and it spits out a summary for me.

Wish me luck! I could sure find some fun stuff to do with $175....

20 in 20, week 3

Slow and steady may win the race, but it's also going to make me lose my fucking mind.

I lost half a pound this week. I think. I cannot be sure, since my scale is possessed and sometimes gives me two weights 3-4 pounds apart if I step on the scale twice in a row. I sometimes am tempted to step on twice in a row, in hopes the second reading will miraculously be 3 pounds LOWER, but sometimes it backfires and it's 3 pounds HIGHER. For the record, when it's lower I believe it, but when it's higher I call the scale a filthy pirate whore.

What I did right this week was keeping portions small, eating lots of fruits and veggies and avoiding Starbucks and fast food.

What I still need to improve on is being active and drinking enough water. And, fighting that demon bitch I call PMS, which makes me inhale cookies and chocolate like The Great Famine is on its way and I need to fatten up for it.

Being active is hands-down my biggest challenge, mostly because of time sweet time. I am up most mornings by 5:30, get myself and the kids ready, drive 40 minutes to work, get home at 5:30 pm, eat dinner, play with the kids....and have ZERO desire to work out. Add to that the winter sunset occuring around 6 pm, and by 8:30 when the kids go to bed it feels like midnight. And who wants to work out at midnight? Masochists, that's who.

I am not a masochist.

Success in Small Steps

Seven years ago, I joined Weight Watchers on a whim. Well, not a whim, per se, since that sounds free-spirited and fun. And joining was neither free-spirited nor fun. It was prompted by stepping onto my scale in our little 2 bedroom home and seeing a number higher than I'd ever seen before.

It took me a year to lose 28 pounds, following the Weight Watchers program online. The first week I was following the plan, I would literally be in bed every night by 9 p.m., because going to sleep was the only thing that made me forget how hungry I was. I lived off of veggie subs (no mayo or cheese), baked Lay's, and Diet Coke. I snacked on salads with fat free Italian dressing, Pria bars, and Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches. I logged in once a week, and depending on my weight the website would give me a big smiley face (lost), a face with no smile (maintained), or a sad face (gained). That sad face really pissed me off.

I was obsessive about the graph WW online provided. For me, that was the single best motivator aside from actually losing weight. I needed the visual to remind me This is where you were, and this is where you are now, and look for far you've come.

Seven years later, and my '20 in 20' goal (not really 20 in 20...my real goal is to lose 20 in 12, then another 10 in 8, for a total of 30 in 20), when reached, would leave me weighing 13 pounds more than the weight that sent me running to Weight Watchers online at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. This is hard for me to swallow. Not hard for me to swallow: cookies, candy, mac and cheese, delicious 600-calorie coffee drinks, and cheese. Lots and lots of cheese.

Losing weight is, for me, a long and slow road. 12 months. 52 weeks. 28 pounds. That's an average of just over half a pound a week.

So I guess I should be thrilled that this morning, when I stepped on the scale, I'd lost another 1.5, for a total 2 week loss of 2.5.

It's hard to be thrilled when you've got so far yet to go.

But the truth is this: I knew going into this that it would be a long, slow road. I set my goal high...to lose 20 pounds in 12 weeks. That means I need to average 1.6 pounds a week. And so far I'm not doing that. But rather than focus on that negative, I'm going to remember to celebrate the small losses as victories, and not get frustrated with slow progress.

I'm not doing WW this time. I know it works for me, but I also know too many ways around the system. Weighing in wearing your heaviest clothes the first week, so the next week you're bound to show a loss. Skipping a meeting and going on another day so you can fast for 18 hours before getting on the scale. Showing up in a dress on weigh-in day so you can see a loss, rather than staying on target with eating like you should have. Look, Weight Watchers is great and it works and I fully advocate it to people looking to lose weight, especially those who need to learn (or relearn) healthy habits and portion sizes. But I know all that, and I need to learn to put that knowledge to good use on my own, without Points and the shame of stepping on the scale in front of a stranger. And quite honestly I'm not willing to spend the $13 a week to go to meetings, which is what I would need to do to see the kind of progress I want to see with WW.

So I'm going to move forward and keep focusing on the basics: lots of water, healthy foods, moving more, eating less. And here's to another week closer to goal!

Daily Photo and That 'Other' Thing.

First, I'm a few days behind on this, but here are a few of the daily photos I've taken so far. I'm guessing that these will favor the kids, ocassionally star me, and very rarely include Darrick. Not because I don't want to photograph Darrick...but because he's such a guy that it's near impossible to get a picture of him without a middle finger on prominent display or the head up, thick-necked look typically favored for mug shots. And as far as I know he's never had a mug shot taken, though I can't be 100% about that.

I digress.

So, without further adieu, the pictures:


January 1, 2010: Sharing 2010's first sun and 2009's last blue moon with Rohan.


January 2, 2010: Mugging with Luca. We had a battle of the wills to get this picture as she wanted me to snap it next to the kitchen trash can? I don't know either.




January 3, 2010: Luca and Rohan, separately. This is SO them. He was throwing a bit of a tantrum and immediately replaced tears with this sweet face and a hand planted firmly in the mouth when I pulled out the camera. And Luca is being coy.

More pictures will be posted soon, since I have to catch up with posting, but these were what I had handy.

As for That Other Thing, I want to talk a little more about it.

The deal is this: I failed big time on the 20 in 20 challenge my friends and I were trying to do leading up to Christmas. But now that I'm not a nursing mom any longer (that's another post for another day...still not ready to share all that) I have no excuse for avoiding the fact that I need to lose weight. Not want to. Need to. I mean, of course I want to be lighter, and I'd be a lying liar if I said it wasn't partially vanity spurring this on. Ok...mostly...like 75% vanity? At least I'm doing it for ME, though, and not for someone else. Or some such nonsense.

The fact is this: I am uncomfortable in my skin. Because my skin is...copious. I have the big ugly flop of skin on my lower belly and love handles and back fat. BACK FAT, people. I am NOT ok with that.

And...see that picture of Luca and me above? My face is FAT. I am now all cheeks and flesh and dough and puff. And not in a good way. Because I am not THAT GIRL who thinks I need to be a rail. Oh contraire. I think women should be a bit of flesh and va-va-voom. Hips. Breasts. Some meat to the thighs and a little rounded belly can a sexy woman make. But what I've got isn't a little meat on my bones; I've got the whole goddamned Thanksgiving feast, including dessert and apertif*. So I need, for myself and those forced to witness me in the 3 pairs of pants and unattractive few shirts that fit me, to lose this weight.

So I'm doing another '20 in 20' with some friends, only I'm altering it. Because my BMI is high enough that I almost slapped my computer for its rudeness when it reported it back to me. So I'm shooting for 20 pounds by Rohan's birthday which is March 16th, and week 1 for me ended on Monday with a 1 pound loss. In my defense, I had strep, NYE, and our 6 year wedding anniversary over the 4 day weekend. In my office chair's defense though...it's way past time I lessened the spread of my thighs when I sit down. After I hit that, I'd like to lose 10 more by Luca's birthday, which is May 7th. That will leave me above my FINAL goal, but well on my way to feeling good about myself again.

And then: Watch out World! I may just get my unibrow waxed and take on the town. Or, you know, stay out past my kids' bedtime.

*after dinner drink, thanks be to Sarah