Yeah, I know. I'm sucking out at this blogging thing. Again. Sue me.
Anyway, I didn't want to get on the scale this morning because it was another less-than-banner week. I mean, I had beer and cookie dough for dinner one night. I swear I feed the kids real, nutritious food. They eat much better than I do, in fact. And of course they are both underweight. Hhhhhmmmmm...
So I woke up early to go into DC for a meeting and figured f'ck it, put on my big girl panties (well... actually, I took them off. Weigh nekkid and all that).
And lo and behold, I'm down again. A whole half a pound. As in .5. Whatevs, I'll take it.
And I'll try to take better care of myself this week. I'm exhausted. I'm having a hard time focusing and staying on task, and considering some of the projects on my desk right now I need to get that under control. So this week, I'm going to try to sleep better. As in go to bed earlier, not hit the snooze alarm five times - when it goes off, get up. We'll see how that goes, I've never been an early to bed kind of girl.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Weigh-in Wendesday
Yeah, I know. I skipped this the past week (or two. three?).
In all honesty, it's because I knew I wasn't doing well. I was eating whole, clean food... and junk. I was limiting my wine intake to the weekend... and drinking beer during the week. And I wasn't going to the gym. Throw in a bunch of work travel (and yeah, I packed my work-out clothes... then sat around the hotel room watching crap TV)... well. Yeah.
On top of it all, I have been pretty blue lately. I hate to say depressed because I know people who struggle with depression, and saying I am depressed seems... I don't know... not right. I'm worried. And tense. And stressed. And work hasn't been easy.Not depressed, right?
But this morning I figured f'ck it, it's not like seeing that number is going to make me feel worse, you know? So I got on the scale.
And the number was smaller.
So I got off, moved the scale and got on again. Same number. Repeat. Same number. Huh.
Mind, it isn't a big loss. But it isn't a gain. So that's something. And add it to the other incremental movements downward, and it totals 3.5 pounds since January. So at this rate I should reach my healthy weight goal when I'm like 47. Ok, not really, and slow and steady wins the race, right? Especially those races where everyone gets a medal for finishing. Which are the only kind I do because let's be real here - I am not a rabbit. I'm a turtle. Slowly making my way to the finish.
In all honesty, it's because I knew I wasn't doing well. I was eating whole, clean food... and junk. I was limiting my wine intake to the weekend... and drinking beer during the week. And I wasn't going to the gym. Throw in a bunch of work travel (and yeah, I packed my work-out clothes... then sat around the hotel room watching crap TV)... well. Yeah.
On top of it all, I have been pretty blue lately. I hate to say depressed because I know people who struggle with depression, and saying I am depressed seems... I don't know... not right. I'm worried. And tense. And stressed. And work hasn't been easy.Not depressed, right?
But this morning I figured f'ck it, it's not like seeing that number is going to make me feel worse, you know? So I got on the scale.
And the number was smaller.
So I got off, moved the scale and got on again. Same number. Repeat. Same number. Huh.
Mind, it isn't a big loss. But it isn't a gain. So that's something. And add it to the other incremental movements downward, and it totals 3.5 pounds since January. So at this rate I should reach my healthy weight goal when I'm like 47. Ok, not really, and slow and steady wins the race, right? Especially those races where everyone gets a medal for finishing. Which are the only kind I do because let's be real here - I am not a rabbit. I'm a turtle. Slowly making my way to the finish.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
You're motoring
So I've just been down and out of sorts all day, in a total funk. Shortly before it was time to pick the kids up from day care, I went outside and shoveled the snow and slush and put down a good coat of ice melt. Then I hopped in the car and slowly started driving with my mind churning.
The roads were horrible, they hadn't been treated or plowed and were getting packed down into ice. I saw an accident a little bit in front of me - 3 cars, people walking around them - so I slowed down even more... and the asswipe behind me in their big 4-wheel drive SUV gunned their engine and sped around me, in the oncoming traffic lane and right at the accident they could not see because of the snow and sleet coming down. Thankfully it turned out ok, they didn't hit anyone or anything, but it just made me burst into tears.
I turned on the radio to listen to the road reports and a song came on that brought back memories of my 17 year old self tangled up in a back seat with the first boy who really made me all tingly, and who *really* taught me how to kiss. The boy everyone couldn't believe I was going out with, because what would a guy like him want with an overweight geek from a low-rent family. And no, the answer wasn't sex, because we never did. But the kissing, necking, making out... oh my. Chapstick's value went up that glorious summer.
I started laughing through the tears, and things were a bit better.
Night Ranger: Sister Christian
(sorry for the ad at the beginning)
The roads were horrible, they hadn't been treated or plowed and were getting packed down into ice. I saw an accident a little bit in front of me - 3 cars, people walking around them - so I slowed down even more... and the asswipe behind me in their big 4-wheel drive SUV gunned their engine and sped around me, in the oncoming traffic lane and right at the accident they could not see because of the snow and sleet coming down. Thankfully it turned out ok, they didn't hit anyone or anything, but it just made me burst into tears.
I turned on the radio to listen to the road reports and a song came on that brought back memories of my 17 year old self tangled up in a back seat with the first boy who really made me all tingly, and who *really* taught me how to kiss. The boy everyone couldn't believe I was going out with, because what would a guy like him want with an overweight geek from a low-rent family. And no, the answer wasn't sex, because we never did. But the kissing, necking, making out... oh my. Chapstick's value went up that glorious summer.
I started laughing through the tears, and things were a bit better.
Night Ranger: Sister Christian
(sorry for the ad at the beginning)
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Weight(y) Matters
I'm sitting here watching "The Biggest Loser" and resisting the urge to get a snack. What is it about this show that gives me the munchies? Some people look at the contestants and wonder how the hell they got that big... I look at them and think how easy it would be to get that big.
I have been heavy for most of my life. In the 5th grade, the pediatrician told me it was bad enough I wore glasses, but I'd never get a boyfriend if I was fat. I weighed 96 pounds. By my senior year in high school, I had another 100 pounds on my 5' 6" frame. At age 30, another 30 to 40 (or 50) were piled on. I had lots of excuses - I come from an overweight family, I worked two (or three) jobs and had no time, I wasn't athletic... I spent a lot of time and money on diets, and would lose 20 or 30 pounds and then gain it (and another 5) back within a year. But I was happy (if not healthy) and I always had boyfriends and a big group of friends that I went out with, so I accepted that I was always going to be the chubby girl.
Something changed around my 30th birthday. I looked at the women in my family and their health issues that were related to being overweight, and I didn't want that. I was tired of buying my clothes in the "big girl" stores. I was tired of being tired. I started looking at my diet and eating more whole foods, I stopped eating meat (I was never a big carnivore) and I started walking. Then one day I ran a few steps, and then a few more, and then a mile... I started getting fit, and feeling better. I joined a dojo and began studying tang soo do. I signed up for, trained for, and ran a half marathon. I enjoyed being fit and healthy.
Then came love, marriage and the baby carriage. Two carriages, in fact, in two years, with one baby who didn't sleep through the night for her first year, and not consistently until she was almost 16 months old. Add in a stressful job that involves a lot of travel and long hours, and it was oh so easy to fall back into old habits and patterns. To make excuses. I'm not as heavy as I was 10 years ago, but I need to get back to a healthy, active weight.
I want to be a good example for my kids, especially my daughter. I want them to enjoy physical activity and good food. I don't want them to know the embarrassment of being picked last, or not being able to wear the cute clothes. But most of all I want them to be healthy. And to help make sure that happens, I need to take care of myself.
This was a crap week for me as far as eating and exercising. It's harder to get back on the bandwagon than I thought it would be. The spirit is willing, the body... is tired. And hungry. And stressed. Which makes me more tired and "hungry..."
But I am worth it. And so are those kids. My goal this week: be mindful of what I am eating. And work out at least 3 times - be it on my elliptical, going for a walk outside, or getting my ass down to the gym.
I have been heavy for most of my life. In the 5th grade, the pediatrician told me it was bad enough I wore glasses, but I'd never get a boyfriend if I was fat. I weighed 96 pounds. By my senior year in high school, I had another 100 pounds on my 5' 6" frame. At age 30, another 30 to 40 (or 50) were piled on. I had lots of excuses - I come from an overweight family, I worked two (or three) jobs and had no time, I wasn't athletic... I spent a lot of time and money on diets, and would lose 20 or 30 pounds and then gain it (and another 5) back within a year. But I was happy (if not healthy) and I always had boyfriends and a big group of friends that I went out with, so I accepted that I was always going to be the chubby girl.
Something changed around my 30th birthday. I looked at the women in my family and their health issues that were related to being overweight, and I didn't want that. I was tired of buying my clothes in the "big girl" stores. I was tired of being tired. I started looking at my diet and eating more whole foods, I stopped eating meat (I was never a big carnivore) and I started walking. Then one day I ran a few steps, and then a few more, and then a mile... I started getting fit, and feeling better. I joined a dojo and began studying tang soo do. I signed up for, trained for, and ran a half marathon. I enjoyed being fit and healthy.
Then came love, marriage and the baby carriage. Two carriages, in fact, in two years, with one baby who didn't sleep through the night for her first year, and not consistently until she was almost 16 months old. Add in a stressful job that involves a lot of travel and long hours, and it was oh so easy to fall back into old habits and patterns. To make excuses. I'm not as heavy as I was 10 years ago, but I need to get back to a healthy, active weight.
I want to be a good example for my kids, especially my daughter. I want them to enjoy physical activity and good food. I don't want them to know the embarrassment of being picked last, or not being able to wear the cute clothes. But most of all I want them to be healthy. And to help make sure that happens, I need to take care of myself.
This was a crap week for me as far as eating and exercising. It's harder to get back on the bandwagon than I thought it would be. The spirit is willing, the body... is tired. And hungry. And stressed. Which makes me more tired and "hungry..."
But I am worth it. And so are those kids. My goal this week: be mindful of what I am eating. And work out at least 3 times - be it on my elliptical, going for a walk outside, or getting my ass down to the gym.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Phobias
I am afraid of bugs. Not lady bugs or house flies (although those are gross) and not even the stink bugs that have taken over parts of Maryland (because those are kind of cool looking). I'm talking BUGS.
Spiders. Centipedes. Millipedes. Creepy crawly things. Bugs. My heart beats faster, I get nervous, and, when coming upon one unexpectedly, I may or may not scream. Like a girl.
After breakfast this morning, the kids and I headed back upstairs so they could play and I could do some work. George was in the lead, followed by Clara, with be bringing up the rear to make sure my klutzy little girl didn't fall back down the stairs. Suddenly she stopped and said, "Ew mama. Buggity bug. Big bug." I look, and sure enough... centipede. Big one. Mean looking, too.
I hustled her up the stairs, grabbed the hose on the vacuum, and sucked the centipede up, proud of myself for actually addressing the bug on the stairs rather than making the kids remain on the third floor all day until Tom comes home to dispatch the bug.
A couple minutes later, I hear the kids shrieking gleefully. Turns out sucking a bug up doesn't kill it, and the centipede was scrabbling around inside the vacuum canister. Lovely. I put the vacuum in the main bathroom and shut the door. Tom will have to empty the canister when he gets home, and if the damn bug isn't in it he'll have to at least pretend to hunt it down for me.
Meanwhile, I'm laying here imagining I can hear its hundreds of little legs scritching around inside the vacuum, plotting its revenge for being sucked up. Perhaps it is sending telepathic messages to all its centipede friends... and I am not kidding when I say I will not sleep well tonight if I do not have definitive proof the damn thing is out of my house.
Aren't phobias fun?
Spiders. Centipedes. Millipedes. Creepy crawly things. Bugs. My heart beats faster, I get nervous, and, when coming upon one unexpectedly, I may or may not scream. Like a girl.
After breakfast this morning, the kids and I headed back upstairs so they could play and I could do some work. George was in the lead, followed by Clara, with be bringing up the rear to make sure my klutzy little girl didn't fall back down the stairs. Suddenly she stopped and said, "Ew mama. Buggity bug. Big bug." I look, and sure enough... centipede. Big one. Mean looking, too.
I hustled her up the stairs, grabbed the hose on the vacuum, and sucked the centipede up, proud of myself for actually addressing the bug on the stairs rather than making the kids remain on the third floor all day until Tom comes home to dispatch the bug.
A couple minutes later, I hear the kids shrieking gleefully. Turns out sucking a bug up doesn't kill it, and the centipede was scrabbling around inside the vacuum canister. Lovely. I put the vacuum in the main bathroom and shut the door. Tom will have to empty the canister when he gets home, and if the damn bug isn't in it he'll have to at least pretend to hunt it down for me.
Meanwhile, I'm laying here imagining I can hear its hundreds of little legs scritching around inside the vacuum, plotting its revenge for being sucked up. Perhaps it is sending telepathic messages to all its centipede friends... and I am not kidding when I say I will not sleep well tonight if I do not have definitive proof the damn thing is out of my house.
Aren't phobias fun?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Weigh-in Wednesday #2
My first official week on the healthy eating/taking care of myself plan is over and... it's a zero. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Null. Nothing.
ZERO. 0.
Better than a gain, but ZERO. I wasn't expecting a "Biggest Loser" first week or anything, but geez... zero.
I know I could have eaten a bit better. And let's be honest, the wine could go... especially during the week. And I need to start exercising regularly.
This week's plan: no wine during the week (except for tonight, because... well, because I'm annoyed and tired and pissed off and stressed and I want a damn glass of chardonnay). And Saturday and Sunday are not free-for-alls. The 80-20 thing isn't working at this point. I need to be accountable and on track and conscious at all times at this point in the game. AFTER I hit my goal, then I can relax. Now, not so much.
So, onward and upward, which will hopefully lead to the weight going downward.
ZERO. 0.
Better than a gain, but ZERO. I wasn't expecting a "Biggest Loser" first week or anything, but geez... zero.
I know I could have eaten a bit better. And let's be honest, the wine could go... especially during the week. And I need to start exercising regularly.
This week's plan: no wine during the week (except for tonight, because... well, because I'm annoyed and tired and pissed off and stressed and I want a damn glass of chardonnay). And Saturday and Sunday are not free-for-alls. The 80-20 thing isn't working at this point. I need to be accountable and on track and conscious at all times at this point in the game. AFTER I hit my goal, then I can relax. Now, not so much.
So, onward and upward, which will hopefully lead to the weight going downward.
Monday, January 10, 2011
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