Monday, November 27, 2006

Land Ahoy!

There comes a time in every woman's life when she feels the need for pampering. Okay, I cannot categorically state that every woman feels the need, but this woman certainly does. Especially after bustin' her bum trying out a new strength training tape, after a hard day's work, when it's friggen freezin', or sometimes just for the hell of it, I need some kind of pampering in order to regain my equilibrium.

I'm a water baby -- love it so much in fact that I have been known to say, right from when I first had a grasp on the term, that I wouldn't mind being amphibious. Although, as I've gotten older the thought of transitioning from one environment to the other leaves me feeling a bit weirded out. Wouldn't there be moments of feeling like you're drowning as your body tries to sort out which element it's s'posed to be breathing? What if I got the hiccups right in the middle of it! As the water lover that I am, one of my favourite (easily affordable and readily accessible) forms of pampering is to take a bath. Sometimes with candles and soft music, sometimes with a glass of wine. But always with a bottle of cold water beside the bath and some form of 'smellies' in the water. Tonight it was Batherapy Bath Salts, (similar to powdered Radox,) sometimes it's essential oils, bath gel, or bath bombs. Whatever it is, it's gotta be something that makes me feel luscious and pampered. And it's gotta be a deep bath!*

Picture it. The sensuousness: home alone, no one to bug you, no one to interrupt your precious me time; soft, scented, perfect temperature water; ambient lighting; a cool drink to slide on down your throat as you need it; mood music at just the right volume to soothe your cares away.

Eventually you reach a prune-like consistency and alas it is time to get your extremely relaxed and contented self outta the tub.. Therein lies the conundrum. You're not wedged in per se, but for all intents and purposes you may as well be. The amount of effort it's going to take you to get up and over the side (which now seems as high as the great wall of china) is surely akin to rescuing a beached whale. Yup, you're floundering around at high tide and it's still not enough to float your arse back out where you belong. Only problem is, no bravely dedicated volunteers to rescue you. No one else is home, remember. Even if there is someone around, I bet you're unlikely to let anyone see you so discombobulated.

And so begins the drawn out process of placing your hands just so, after first berating yourself for being like aforementioned beached whale, heaving yourself over onto your side, repositioning your hands, heaving again until you're on your stomach. Must stop to take a breather, praying to Powers That Be that your bloated, fat, stupid, horrible, and ugly self did not slosh water all over the floor, somehow getting up on your hands and knees, then leaning on the sides with your hands and like some leviathan rising from the deeps you haul your way free of the water's clutches, and then realise you're too languid and heavy to move a muscle. So there you stand, hoping that the friendly little bathroom elves will magically dry you so that you don't have to do it yourself. And you swear that you'll never have a bath ever again.

Until the next time when the vicious play is acted out in all its abominable glory once more.

Unlike Captain Ahab, I've successfully killed my whale. Tonight I was nearly as agile as a dolphin! I could roll over, lay on my side, even swish my hands up and down past my hips. The best bit, I can get out of the bath without any rigmarole whatsoever. Hands on side, bend knees, place feet on bottom of tub, apply appropriate pressure and stand up. Then with nary a care in the world, and short hop, I'm a landlubber once more.

There's still a way to go until my belly isn't left high and dry when I'm actually in the tub, but I'm working on it. Soon enough any rubber duckies that happen to be sailing the waters o' the bath tub will lose sight of the great white blubber for good! “Land ahoy?” Nah tis just their imagination.

I'm glad my muse practices catch and release. Now that the idea is played out, this lil' fishy's off to bed!

*(Don't know if I've mentioned it here or not, but I use one of these, with the top hole covered with tape:

why? Because I don't know about the rest of the world, but I know Australia doesn't have overflow drains in their bath tubs. And so those in my homeland who've never travelled over here before may well be as mystified as I was the very first time I ran a deep bath as usual, and all of a sudden I was only sitting in a few inches of water. Rude shock lemme tell you! I'll take a photo tomorrow of the overflow drain when there's better light and post it.)


Thursday, November 23, 2006

Well, wouldja lookit tha'!

Weight: 225lbs, 102.3kgs
Body fat: 48%
BMI: 39.7.

(The above data is taken from my last weigh in the other day)

All measurements are in centimetres.

Upper Chest: 100.0
Bustline: 120.5
Upper Right Arm: 45.4
Midriff: 97.0
Waistline: 105.9
Upper Hips: 133.0
Hips/Buttocks: 136.1
Right Thigh: 71.5
Left Thigh: 71.2
Right Calf: 44.3
Left Calf: 42.1

TOTAL: 967 cms
Loss of 5.2 cms / 2.1 inches

Grand Total: 15.4 cms / 6.1 inches.

The delight I'm feeling at this month's measurements is even greater than that of the month's before. Sure, it's only half as much of a loss, but that's not the issue.

Last month I hadn't even begun PMS, this time, I'm smack dab in the middle. I'm so bloated that the divot doesn't bounce right back from any pressure on my skin. (I'd written a great line about dead bodies but I figured it might be too much for some people's stomaches. LOL)

I'm very eager for my next measurement installment. I reckon it'll be a good one.


Tuesday, November 21, 2006

A delicate act of balance.

Last night I was so disenchanted with this whole weight loss thing. Tonight, the fairy tale has regained some of its magic. It might have a little something to do with the B6 tablets I took, one last night and one again this afternoon, but I think the major difference is my perception. Even more importantly, I went to sneak another weigh in again this morning, much to my horror I could not. Sleeping Beauty actually slept longer than her Handsome Prince this morning, so he took the opportunity provided. Banishment of my Nemesis to the Dungeon has been completed. Alaskaboy bade it “Get thee hence!” and it obliged him post haste. Since I was killing trees with a chainsaw at the time (at least that's what it sounded like) I have no idea where the dastard is hiding. And I feel as frolicsome as one of Ms Peep's baby sheep.

Where was I? Perception. Perception really is a balancing act. I'll have to keep hold of my balance bar now that the safety net is gone completely. I don't miss it at all, although the compulsive need to use it will be hard to curtail. Kinda like an itch you just can't scratch. Surprisingly enough now that it's gone, I'm even more determined to go forward as fast as I can, head held high. What could I possibly be using as a balance bar now that my safety net has vanished completely?

It all started when Alaskaboy got home from work and as is his occasional wont he grabbed my bum when giving me a hug. The look of pleased surprise on his face was wonderful to see. He could actually grab A cheek in each hand. Instead of the more accustomed kneading motion he could actually cup his fingers under and squeeze. It shocked both of us. Me especially since I've kinda slacked off with the exercising this week, and I feel like a water balloon that's nigh unto bursting.

Friday night I felt really good when we went out, despite not being able to wear a dress like I'd hoped, because the 18DD/40DD bra that I haven't been able to wear since buying it nearly two years ago actually fit comfortably enough to wear it out of the house. The weekend before last the cups were still too chockers to be comfortable. Instant boob ache. When I took it off after at least three hours of wearing last Friday, no ache whatsoever!

Sunday it was time to change over from my summer wardrobe to my winter wardrobe. Have full sets of clothes in about 5 different sizes, so they don't all fit in the wardrobe. Each change of season I pack away what I'm currently wearing and see what fits for the next. This is the first time in a very long time that I'm actually wearing clothes smaller than the year before. Last year I'd bought a whole bunch of clothes that I was meant to wear over Christmas in Minnesota, due to the groin strain soon thereafter, I didn't shrink into them like I thought I would. A few hundred dollars on clothes just wasted! This week I'm the same weight I was at Christmas last year, but most of those clothes fit.

You hear that scales! The clothes FIT ME! One stretchy kind of material skirt is actually almost too big, gotta wear it for thanksgiving this year and out and about else I may not get to wear it at all! Everything I tried on that is the perfect size is a Large. Goodbye Mr X, we won't be seeing you around here anymore.

The most gratifying perception change occurred when I took my latest set of progress photos. The scale claims that I am 3.5 lbs heavier than my last weigh in listed on the sidebar (as of Saturday morning, and I'm sure it's higher today due to extra bloatiness,) and that may indeed be so. But weight is not everything. The pics whilst showing the bloating also clearly show several places of improvement. Not just slimmer bits or more buff body parts, but also the clothes fit the loosest yet. So loose in fact that I am hereby retiring the size 22W shorts I've been wearing in them and going forth to a new pair.

(A shoe horn won't quite get me into this latest suit of armour, and IF i somehow managed to get it on I wouldn't need a can opener to get out, it'd rupture under its own auspices. But it was purchased from the same store as the sad and decrepit pair I have been wearing to date. Same bat time, same bat channel, same bat brand.) When I tested the mettle of the up and comer last week it plainly lacked in coverage. My hips were oozing out the top, and my belly could not be contained! Tonight, my favour has been granted to the newest knight-errant, Sir Sixteen of Doubled Yew. I hope he favours a journey to TightButDoesUp, home to the foreign minstrel, Eureka Hallelujah! And then, so mote it be, he'll willingly wend his way on through the village of Itfits before doing brave battle against the forces of gravity led by Sir SlipsDown of Baggy Bottom. Any takers on how long before that epic battle occurs?

Here's the form guide if you wish to peruse it.

Lord Twen'two of DubbYuh

and his former Squire, now a knight proper, Sir Sixteen of Doubled Yew.

Clothes that almost or actually fit, increases in the weights I use for strength training, the look in my husband's eye when he notices a positive change... all of these and more are the balance bars that will keep me walking this tightrope called weight loss. Who knows, I may even venture a cartwheel one of these days! lol


Monday, November 20, 2006

The Long And Whining Road!.

This wave I've been riding lately has curled over me in this bodacious tube, but I'm afraid it's gonna close before I can negotiate my way out.

Enough of the metaphor, in short -- I Couldn't Give a Rat's!

Tonight, I just don't have it in me. It's after eleven in the evening, I have had a big weekend of shopping and Christmas stuff and eating out and editing and a whole bunch of other stuff, not the least of which is not much sleep. I just feel blah.

I so want to say fuck it, I'm going to bed. Alaskaboy went at least 45 mins ago and is sound asleep. I just wanna curl up with him and go to the Land of Zed. (That'd be the Land of Zee for some of you.) Completely in the mood to snuggle, not struggle through a workout.

Feeling all puffy from the salt I've had this weekend, so that's really not helping.
I know I'm gonna kick myself if i don't get up and do this, but . . .

{mock-tantrum on the floor} I don't waaaaaanna!

Worked out really long and hard the last couple of weeks and really enjoyed it, but my body seems to have gotten used to it. What with the over-indulging of salt and lesser amounts of exercise my body's hopeful that I'm going back to my wicked ways..

Those capris didn't zip up yesterday when I put 'em on. BUGGAH!

I know, I know! I know it's only bloating and nothing to fret about too badly. Other clothes that I didn't fit into last year now fit . . . (was like going shopping, without actually going. More on that tomorrow when I'm perky enough to do justice to it.) but that joy wore off hours ago, and now I'm just feeling blech.

The thought of how much you guys'll kick me in the head if I stop now is helping with the realisation that I can't just up and quit.

God, could you imagine how disappointed you'd all be. Fuck, I'd never hear the end of it.
*I'D* never forgive myself; four weeks short when I've come so far. It's not worth it.

THIS is the danger period, this next week or two is when I'll feel inclined to sabotage myself. Past experience leads me to know this, I didn't need Brian to tell me so. The first whiff of potential success is starting to permeate the surrounds, and I'm scared I'm gonna ensure I fail again, like all those previous attempts.

Don't let me do it. Please! Send me nagging coments or something! I need help this week, I really do.

I wanna feel fantastic at Christmas, proud I did my 12 week goal, something I honestly thought I wouldn't complete.

Here's a little plea that the Fab Four put into words so much better than my rambling on for the last half an hour has done.

"Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me."

Now, I've got drag my bloated self off to do some kind of exercise before I bugger this all up beyond any hope of redemption, and end up hating myself in the morning.

Hmm, I don't think I could sustain an actual tantrum for the whole forty minutes. Shame about that. lol

EDIT 12:07am :- Managed 40 minutes of yoga and stretching. Night!


Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Take The Pressure Down.

Brushing my teeth this morning after eating breakfast, I glanced in the mirror and was frightened by the stranger with desperation in her eyes, and the angry furrow in her forehead. It was official I'd taken the first few steps back down that slippery slope, and I hated the way it made me feel. My face was reflecting the inner pressure, and if I didn't cut it off soon the rising storm would be an absolute horror. I've seen this maelstrom and its aftermath too many times to stand idly by and let it occur again.

So as Farnsey advises, it's time to take the pressure down. But first, let's backtrack down the path I've taken to arrive in this here lonely town. Be buggered if I'll be trapped like a prisoner, so here I am taking hold of my wheels and turning them around.

Right round baby, I'll spin you right round. My head that is. It's spinning from the sheer amount of sabotage I've committed over the past few days.

“Exhibit A your honour, I show for your perusal, meal upon meal of salty foods. Exhibit B: Lack of adequate hydration. And finally, C: Complete disdain for the stomach's desires. An open and shut case of Gluttony, your honour.”

“Objection! Exaggeration.”


“Fine, how about Avarice and Pride, then? Smug in the belief that she has complete control over this eating thing she blithely went ahead and allowed herself the extra bits on her plate, even after she was full, because it tasted so good. And sloth! It was easier to eat the food than get up and put it in the bin, or wrap it up in the fridge for later. Easier to eat the pizza slices than to take the time to see what she was really hungry for. Easier to shove the extra salami sandwich in her face than admit she was bored and lonely last night. Easier to clean the house than admit she's afraid to get on with the revising. Sinful wretch, she has to be held accountable for her own crimes.”

“The defense calls our first and only witness, your honour. “

“Low Self Esteem Demon, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.”

“Then, if you would, summarise the actions you've taken over the last few days.”

"Well, last week when she weighed in at 222 lbs for the second week in a row, she asked my opinion, as always. I told her quite truthfully that a maintain after losing 4 lbs the week before was actually quite an accomplishment. For some reason she neglected to lock me up as tight as she has done for the past several months, so I took it as a blatant invitation to whisper further words of wisdom. Just a little encouragement here and there each day is considered the best way to change behaviours in the long run. She took my urgings the wrong way at first. She bought pizza, cooked it and sensibly cut it into serving portions and froze it. But I did manage to get her to leave some in the fridge in case she was hungry."

“So, it was there every single time she opened the fridge when she was hungry?”

“Yup. Prime position. Bread, meat, vegetables. A balanced meal. No need to think about anything, it was all there. Easy to eat, especially since she didn't do veggie shopping til Sunday. After that it was easy to encourage her to eat a little more at every sitting. Another slice, because it had been reheated once already and shouldn't have been put back in the fridge; the remaining ¼ of a bowlful of chicken and rice. She did ignore my repeated urgings for ice cream, even when I hinted to Alaskaboy to offer some when he dished it out to go with his madeira, but I got her to cram half a bag of pita chips in by the end of the evening. Best bit, she wasn't even hungry.

Then this morning, the bitch dared to argue back with me! Even after I'd gotten her to step on the scales two days in a row and show her how much love I've been giving her the last few days. Just to show her how hopeless this is, silly bitch didn't take the hint about how useless she is. She got angry. Anger's good though, I can use that, it means more self-berating and eventually more binging. Bring on the love!”

“The arguing? Let's continue with that.”

“I couldn't believe it. Hadn't she been listening to a word I'd said? She went with the chicken and rice she really wanted for breakfast, rather than the eggs, waffles, sausage, milk, and fruit I urged her to have. And, she stopped when she was full. Well, she took one more bite of chicken and one spoonful of rice, but there was still at least half a cup of it left in the bowl. . . and she threw it away! What about all those starving children, homeless people, and people who are too poor to feed themselves?”

“What do they have to do with a half cup of rice left in her bowl?”

“I, I . . . Wasteful, that's what it is! She should have eaten it all up. I love her! I made sure she put that extra bit of rice in the bowl so she'd have the energy to exercise today and grow strong.”

"So, you admit that you have been adding things, unbeknownst to her, to her meals? That you've willfully encouraged her to do wrong, and led her astray from where she desires to be.”

“She desires to be fat. It's safe. She needs me to make sure she eats what is good for her. She doesn't deserve good health, she had it and threw it away like something that the cat had dragged in. She's a fat lump and without me to protect her she will get nowhere. I keep her safe from all things scary and unknown. She's not an author! She'll never amount to anything, so it's better to stay here with me, the odds are too astronomical. Better to never try and say oh well, it wasn't meant to be than to actually set herself up for hurt and rejection again. She knows all this, but for some reason she'd forgotten lately, so I reminded her for her own good.”

“Did you ask her whether she wanted your advice?”

“She always listens to me. I'm the only voice of reason she's got!”

“Did you ASK her?”

“Why the fuck would I do that? She doesn't have an opinion that I don't veto first.”

“So, you're the one who ordered her to commit these crimes against good health?”

“Shit yeah!”

“Defense rests, your honour.”

Can you believe it? I let the bitch out on good behaviour, and this is what she does to me! She'd been the High Self Esteem Demon for the last month or so, and naturally I believed that she was a changed woman. I took her advice, and this is where it got me. Bloated, unhappy with myself, and obsessing over that damn number again.

Well, guess what? I'm not going to weigh myself until the end of the month! 16 days without weighing myself, am I nuts!? Maybe, probably, but I figure that two weeks is enough time to get closer to, or below, that damn number, so I'll try again then. My clothes are fitting better, I can visually see the improvements. So screw the scales, AND the LSED, they can both be locked up together.

I'm not a number on a scale, I'm me.

Shit, this is scary. What if I put on more because I'm not being accountable every week?

{has visions of lightbulbs dancing in my head. Scampers off to the bedroom.}

<>You know what? I just went and tried on a skirt I bought last month. It's a szie 18. Yes, you read that correctly, a real size 18, not an 18W from the plus section. In fact this was bought from the other section, the “regular” section. Two weeks ago when I bought it went up over the hips, but the zipper wouldn't close, no matter how I twisted and turned and tugged. Just now, it did up.

Sure it's riding high and the zipper is puckered. But that's neither here nor there. It did up where it wouldn't just two weeks ago. So, I'm not gonna weigh again until that skirt fits properly. Or Christmas morning, whichever comes first. I'm hoping it'll be the skirt that wins! :D

Let's bid goodbye to LSED and her accomplice, Mr Scale, as they go away for a stint in protective custody!

Ding Dong the witch is dead!

I had planned on ending this with a Doris Day song, but somehow the munchkins seem to be the more appropriate soundtrack for the mood I'm in.

I guess it really is Que, Sera, Sera. LOL


Tuesday, November 14, 2006

7 down, 5 to go -- and still 22 remaining!

Five weeks left till Christmas and I have to lose 22 lbs, that ten kilos, if I want to have a good time whilst in Nebraska.

Yeah, you think 29lbs in 12 weeks was pretty ambitious of me, especially since my weight never has just dropped off?

Considering that my friend hasn't lost any yet, I'm not doing too bad. ;) (She lost some and put it back on for various reasons, among them being her parents and two aunts visiting for the last three weeks and having feasts nearly every other night. They even had an early thanksgiving this weekend, since they depart this week!)

I think we'll play it by ear. I'm reasonably sure that if both of us have lost half the amount we said we would, then it'll be a goer. That'll be 15 lbs in 12 weeks, damn good effort in anyone's books.

Shit, even if I break 220lbs, for me that's reason enough to celebrate!

AND after exercising for 12 weeks straight, I'll be OWED a good time dammit. lol

It always was more about the motivation anyway. We figured the writing motivation worked so well, why not try it for losing weight? But words on a page are easier to get out than weight from the body. Every day you can turn up and put out ten, twenty, a hundred, or a couple thousand words and be closer to your goal. The weight comes off when it's good and ready, no matter how much you exercise or eat well.

So, we shall see. I'm just curious as to what my weight will be by the end of the year. :)

My next goal will definitely be to ensure I exercise most days while away too. No going two weeks without and coming back with my hard work all undone!

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Week Four - Check. (360 minutes)
Week Five - Check. (445 minutes)
Week Six - Check - (508 minutes.)
Day Forty Three - Check. (40 minutes yoga. 40 minutes walk. 2 miles)
Day Forty Four - Check. (20 minutes yoga. 50 minutes strength training)
Day Forty Five - Check. (50 minutes aerobics. 40 minutes yoga. 5 mins ab work.)
Day Forty Six - Check. (20 minutes aerobics. 20 minutes yoga)
Day Forty Seven - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 90 minutes walk 4 miles. 5 minutes ab work)
Day Forty Eight - Check. (30 minutes aerobics. 10 minutes stretching.)
Day Forty Nine - Check. (1 hour and 5 minutes walk. 20 minutes yoga.)

This morning I really had no idea what to do, so I just went for a walk. Yesterday's step aerobics was actually done with the plank that I have. I am SORE today. Would really love a hot spa bath actually. Melt all the tension out of the muscles. Also, would liked to have gone for a swim, but it would have been a bit much for the muscles methinks.

I think I might have to go bike-riding on the weekend or something a little different. Getting a bit bored with the same 5 exercises now. Or at least go for a walk in a different location.

And speaking of writing? Won't be online much this week, just to post the essentials like streak and weigh-in updates (and probably some reading of your blogs and cheering you guys on, to relax in the evening.) I gotta put some work in if I'm gonna get my revising and writing goals for this month too. It's all well and good to be exercising and getting healthy, but I DO need to find a balance where I'm working and exercising as well. Else I've just swapped one obsession, over-eating, for another, over-exercising.

After all a balanced life is a healthy life.


Sunday, November 12, 2006

Sometimes good intentions just ain't enough.

BAH! I'd had my workout all planned, I even wrote it in my exercise journal so that I had to do it. Then a friend called and needed to talk . . . for three hours. There weren't my carefully constructed schedule. And,when I say needed, I mean he really needed to talk, and I haven't spoken to him for several months so it was lovely to catch up too. By the time I got off the phone it was nearly midnight. Aiyeee! So a short easy workout it was before I fell asleep standing up. How easy? I just repeated the warm up three times. LOL

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Week Four - Check. (360 minutes)
Week Five - Check. (445 minutes)
Week Six - Check - (508 minutes.)
Day Forty Three - Check. (40 minutes yoga. 40 minutes walk. 2 miles)
Day Forty Four - Check. (20 minutes yoga. 50 minutes strength training)
Day Forty Five - Check. (50 minutes aerobics. 40 minutes yoga. 5 mins ab work.)
Day Forty Six - Check. (20 minutes aerobics. 20 minutes yoga)
Day Forty Seven - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 90 minutes walk 4 miles. 5 minutes ab work)

But... I got up this morning
and did the workout today! HAH!

In one way it probably was for the best, I feel refreshed again after the shorter workout. I'm gonna do a similar thing again tomorrow I think: nice, short and easy.

I'm definitely on target for my 2000 mins total this month, even a little ahead, so it'll be nice to ease up a little in the last couple of weeks instead of being frantic about whether I'm gonna make it or not.


Friday, November 10, 2006

She's super streaky

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Week Four - Check. (360 minutes)
Week Five - Check. (445 minutes)
Week Six - Check - (508 minutes.)
Day Forty Three - Check. (40 minutes yoga. 40 minutes walk. 2 miles)
Day Forty Four - Check. (20 minutes yoga. 50 minutes strength training)
Day Forty Five - Check. (50 minutes aerobics. 40 minutes yoga. 5 mins ab work.)

Last night I HAD no energy. That was why I went with strength training. I can just turn my brain off and follow along, 10 repetitions at a time. I also worked with lower weights than usual. I wanted some toning, but I didn't have the energy to do a hard workout. Same with the yoga, just flowed through that, was lovely relaxation.

Whew! Tonight, I got all fired up by a post on one of the blogs I read. (Thanks, Glam!) Now I'm starverated and feeling a bit wobbly. Methinks I'm gonna go make some dinner and then have a nice hot bath!

The aerobics I did was Lean, Strong and Healthy by Susan Powter. Hmm, it seems the reasons I never used to be able to get through it were not only because I wasn't fit enough, but because it so BORING! Even with a good cd on. I like her Burn Fat and Get Fit one, but this? UGH! I won't be using that ever again. Perhaps I should give it to goodwill.

Enough, if I don't go eat, I'm gonna gnaw my arm off.


Procrastinating, much?

A little, I admit it. But at least it's kept the scales off my back for a few hours.

Now, I'm really off to do what I said I was gonna do before. . . although knowing how it usually goes, my mum will call just as I'm about to start. LOL Hmm, unless another friend's call from about an hour ago counts for the regular interruption.

Anyone get the feeling I'm really not up for the exercise tonight?

You'd be right, too.


TeeHee. I'd forgotten about this.

Subject: Eviction notice!
From: one of my email addresses
TO: Moi's other address.
Date: 29th March, 2006

Hiya Chickadees,

We've been bestest friends now for going on three years. Los Angeles is a big city and I've been quite content to stay at home with you, (and of course, hubby, when he's not at work,) never having to worry about leaving our comfort zone. During these last three years we've had trips away with family and friends to keep away that bitch, Loneliness. Being able to chat with friends via boards or email is also wonderful in this regard. Smiley
Today I depressed myself thoroughly by looking up a pet finding website. I found a puppy that my heart went pitty-patty over, and called to tell hubby I wanted this one. His reality pin pricked my bubble and I realised that in all honesty we can't afford her if we're saving to have kids and a house.
That hurt ever so much because I'm lonely. It's OK for him he's at work every day with people contact and changes of scenery, I'm stuck here all on my lonesome for hours on end.
Loneliness? She was over quicker than you could say lickettysplit, and snuggled tight against my side. Breathing down my neck she was in an almost orgiastic manner as she realised I was about to invite her to stay for was her shoulder I blubbered all over.
Then I realised it was the wrong friend I was blaming for my troubles. Loneliness only comes over after you two have put your heads together and talked me into doing stuff. She's there to help clean up YOUR mess.
Shy, baby, it's you that stops me from going out and about and trying new things and meeting new people, you want me all to yourself, you selfish cow.
'Cras dearest its you that's holding me back. You're forever thinking up ways to distract me from doing what i really want to be doing, you deceitful bastard.
Guess what? I have a new friend, his name is Confidence Backbone of Decisive-ville. HE advised me to listen to my mother and not you, Cras. So you know what I did? I went and emailed for information about volunteer adult literacy tutoring. Yeah that's right, the one I was interested in early last year and due to travel commitments I couldn't jump at the chance to give it a go. Then, I listened to your advice of trying it next year. Now, I have the six months to commit to it, no travelling until December. So next year is HERE, and Procrastination Next-Year, you're in need of a new victim . . . that is to say, friend.
Shyness, he advised me to tell you to hit the frog'n'toad again. While you were away last year I had a blast trying out that writing course. Can't really afford another one of those at the moment, (especially with saving up for WorldCon) so instead, I'm off to a TOPS meeting tonight. Yes that's right TONIGHT!
So poor old Loneliness doesn't get her dinner invite afterall. You two can tsk tsk all you like, but I've been wanting to do this for over a month now, and no more waiting till tomorrow or listening to your excuses and seemingly valid reasons, I'm going, and you're leaving!
Since neither of you ever signed a rental agreement, I'm perfectly within my rights to say you have until the end of the day to get out.
As the late, great Mr Charles said, “And doncha come back no more!”


P.S. You're right, getting a dog would make me less lonely, but it wouldn't fix the underlying problem. Just like all your other advice in the past, it looks great at first glance, but is in fact just making it less likely that I'll get out and make friends of my own in the city. Yeah I hear ya, puppy obedience class is all well and good, but that's neither here nor there, and you know it.


What's there to eat?

Wrote this back in August whilst I was still muddling through how I relate to food. I was definitely straining at the calorie counting leash by this point I think. (This was also part of a short-lived daily motivational newsletter that I was writing for some online buddies at their request. Short-lived only because I had family emergencies crop up after less than a week, so had to reluctantly stop doing it. They and I were disapointed.)

**None of this applies if you are allergic to certain foods, or have medical reasons why you should not eat them, or only eat them in moderation.

Ever sat and stared into the fridge, and thought - 'If I have to eat another piece of rabbit food, I'll scream'?

Then, it's not the rabbit's food that you need to stop eating, it's your outlook towards food that needs readjusting.

What To Eat? I'm sick of Rabbit food. I'm sick of dieting! I feel like I'm not getting anywhere. If only X didn't taste so good.

I know that some of you have kids, some of you are around kids, and some of you don't have kids, but I'm sure you remember what it was like to be a kid. If an adult, or someone said to you, “you can't have that.” How did that make you feel? If you're anything like me, it made you fantasize about whatever it was you weren't allowed to have. Maybe even actively plot to get it. If you were bold enough, perhaps you went ahead and had it anyway.

Why do you think things will have changed just because you've aged a few years? Human nature doesn't change. Yet, all of a sudden we think our bodies, minds and souls will obey us because we say, you have to eat healthy, you can't eat (whatever food group or foods you think is bad for you.) I've been there, I've done that. Oh the nights I've laid awake daydreaming of whichever particular 'bad' food I craved that week.

Yet, funnily enough, the times I've been successfully losing weight, is when there's been no bad or good foods to be found in my scheme of things. Instead, I look at them as Everyday foods, Occasional or Every Now and Then Foods, Treats, and Food Necessary For Survival (aka PMS cravings)

Everyday foods. Look at the healthy food pyramid. There's your every day foods. Grains, fruits, veggies, protein, and yes, fats. They're all on there. I've tried eating the recommended daily servings of each group. You'd be surprised at how much food that actually is.

Occasional foods. These are the foods that ya don't eat every day, but may eat once a week, or slightly more often. Bacon, or eggs, waffles, grits, rotisserie chicken, takeaway. Whatever it is that you don't eat every single day.

Treats. Now, these are something It took me awhile to get a grip on. To start with, I mandated one day a month where I could eat whatever the hell I wanted. Didn't matter what fat or calorie content it had. If I wanted it, I could eat it, and as much of it as I wanted. Then I worked up to one day every two weeks. By the time I got to one day per week... I didn't feel the need to gorge quite so much. I now go by serving sizes. I'll buy a small packet of whatever it is that I crave, and dish out one serving. Once I eat that serving, I'll ask myself, am I satisfied. And I'm surprised at how often I say yes. Sometimes it's no, and I go back for a second serving. Especially of something like Doritos. But eating them as a snack, or a dessert for my main meal, I find that I really don't want the whole bag, or many servings.

Honestly.. when you binge, are you really wanting those foods? I know I didn't. Sure the first little bit maybe, but after that it was automatic pilot. Shoving in food to sublimate whatever feeling it was that I was trying to deny. How many times have you got to the bottom of the packet/tub/whatever and realised. Ya know, I really didn't enjoy that. Or, I didn't even taste the last three quarters of it.

The thing is, we've come to think of Treats as everyday foods. Thanksgiving Turkey. How many of you look forward to Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or whatever Occasion where you eat foods associated with that holiday? Birthday cake. Sunday breakfast. Mom's special dish that she cooks every time you come home to visit. Whatever the food or the occasion, think of how that food is treated in your brain, your emotions and your memories. It's a treat that you really, really, really look forward to. Am I right? These aren't bad foods. They aren't rewards for being good the rest of the year. They're just foods that you eat and really enjoy... but you only eat them occasionally. Remember as a kid when your favourite dish was made. How exciting was that! (especially if it was something a sibling hated. LOL) Regain that sense of wonder with your food. Treat food as what it is. Sustenance. Not a friend you can turn to in times of need. Not a blanket to warm your innards. Certainly not as an answer to your problems. Food is inert. It has no feelings. All it is meant to do is nourish your body.

Eat what you need to survive. Follow the healthy pyramid.. not slavishly, but as best you can each day. Learn to live a little. Enjoy every meal you eat.

Enjoy the fruits and vegetables. They provide necessary nutrients. Find ways to eat them that you like.

Enjoy your carbs. They're the body's best and easiest source of energy, essential for doing just about anything.

Enjoy good quality fats. They're the grease that keeps your skin, innards, heck everything running smoothly.

Enjoy the proteins. They're necessary for muscle. Muscle is essential for carrying you around, and the more muscle you have, the better you lose weight.

Muscle.. Hmm that's a topic for tomorrow.

Food. Enjoy what you eat, as you eat it. Remember, everything is good for you, just some should be eaten more often than others.

EDIT: {grin} I guess this was the motivational letter from the day before the muscles one .


Muscling in on new territory.

I wrote this the other month in response to someone scoffing at my enthusiasm for working out with weights.

It's not love that makes the world go round, but muscles. Imagine if you had no muscles. Only skin, fat, sinew, bones. You couldn't do anything!

Yet, why is it that when you mention muscle toning to women, dieting women especially, that they tend to turn their noses up at you?

Sure you can diet down to whatever your goal weight is on the scale, but I bet you'll look scrawny and unhealthy after doing so. You know, kinda like those runway models. Sure they look good in magazines, or draped with the efforts of top designers and make-up artists. But they just look plain old skinny when you see them in the light of day. Skinny and HUNGRY.

Picture this, if you will. A beautiful racing machine, let's go with a Ferrari. Now, I'm sure we've all seen a Ferrari in action, somewhere, somehow. Imagine this Ferrari lined up in poll position for the last race of the season, and the driver is only one first place away from winning the season. Sponsorship deals await. Beautiful models for the driver. Better pit crew and products for the car itself. The thunder as the cars rev their engines in preparation for the green light. Knuckles tightening on steering wheels, and twitchy feet aching to press the pedal to the metal.

The... light... goes... green... and they're racing!

How far do you think that poll position Ferrari is going to get if he's got bicycle tires fitted in place of you beaut, super duper, fantasmagorical, racing tires? Even better yet, if he's got an engine that's never been serviced, ever.

You're right. Not very far at all.

But what's this got to do with skinny models or losing weight? I hear you ask.

Muscles. Muscles are what propel us through our daily lives. The fitter the muscle, the better equipped it is for its job.

Aerobic exercise services your engine. In other words it tones and strengthens the major muscle you need to keep living. Your heart. Weight training, or resistance work, strengthens your other muscles. The muscles you need to get through daily life. Climb those stairs. Get in and out of bed. Pick up the kids/pets. Cook your meal. Bring the shopping in and out. How about opening that jar of whatever that the male people in your life seem to so effortlessly do? More muscle mass.

You don't need to be a musclebound hulk to enjoy the benefits I'm talking about. No one ever accused a gymnast, ice skater or ballerina of being bulky... but they're very, very strong. Runners, swimmers, personal trainers, aerobics instructors. None of them look bulky. (Ok well, some do, but the majority don't.) So why the resistance to resistance training? Sleek, healthy muscles actually make you look slimmer than just cardio workouts and dieting in the long run. Your clothes fit better because they have substance to cling to. Clothes look better on a mannequin than a coat hanger, yes? Muscle is also denser than fat. A lot denser. This means you may weigh the same, but your clothes can be two or three sizes smaller. Muscle also works at a higher metabolic rate than fat. It burns calories just by being there. Fat does nothing except weigh you down.

So, you'll look better, feel better, be able to do things easier, and eat more than you ever thought a healthy person would be able to eat. Bet you're looking at resistance training in a whole new light now, huh?


Shhhomebody shhhtop meee!

The lure is so very enticing, I don't know if I can stop myself from succumbing. O Siren, sing on sweet seductress, tempt me, tempt me DO!

Yet, if I give in, will you still love me tomorrow? Will I still love me tomorrow, or even be able to look myself in the eye in the mirror?

Of course not.

What to do, what to do!

I've tried distracting myself all morning. First by the sheer drudgery that is a week's worth of dishes, then by using my other drug of choice: the internet. But, alas, I have caught up on all the sites I love to visit, its life saving grip is slowly. . . agonisingly . . . letting me slip.

Grip! Yes, that's it, get a grip, Woman!

First, to exercise. Out of the house is a wonderful thing. To walk, perchance to brainstorm. I have my second novel begging to be started. but wait, I have to revise the first one, and two short stories, they're part of my November goals.

Hark! What voice from yonder loungeroom comes?

Maybe I should make Alaskaboy take the temptation with him to work? But, how does that teach me to do without? It doesn't.


Perhaps I do need to remove it though, at least until I'm fairly sure that bait is no longer of any consequence.

No! I shall be strong. Call that a siren song? That's not a siren song, THIS is a siren song. {basks in the light cast by the vision of me successfully achieveing ALL my goals this month.}

Ha! Take THAT, filthy scales. I cast aside your puny attempts to shackle me into vile slavery once more. I'm free, I tell you, free at last!

Exercise, revise, adn then to write! That's the game plan. Catch yas on the flipside.

Today's post brought to you by the letters L, b and s, and the number 220.


Spicy tuna patties a la Kada.

This is one i made up myself after seeing so many bland bland BLAND recipes for tuna patties over the years.

- 1/2 medium onion chopped fine + an equal amount of chopped spring/green onions
- 3-5 cloves garlic
- 1 1/2 tsp ground cumin
- 1/4 c chopped fresh coriander/cilantro (or italian parsley if you don't like coriander/cilantro)
- 2 tsp sambal oelek/chilli paste. (or to taste)
- 1 tsp mustard
- 2 eggs beaten, (or 1 egg and two white, or 4 whites)
- 2 x 6oz cans tuna in spring water, drained
- 2 Tbs lemon juice
- 4 Tbs flour
s and p to taste

Saute onions and garlic in a pan until translucent. turn off flame

In a bowl add eggs, tuna, lemon juice, sambal, mustard, greens and cumin. Stir until well combined.
Stir in onions and garlic.
Add flour 1 tablespoon at a time. The mixture will be quite sloppy.

Measure out some mixture into a 1/4 cup measure and plop mixture into skillet/frypan to cook. (our skillet managed three patties at once) Pat down with a spoon or spatula a little. makes 8 patties that way.
If you like em a little bigger, use 1/3 cup measure. And if the texture's not to your liking.. add a little more flour to the remaining mix.

These are great hot or cold. very low in fat, even if you do use the whole eggs.

I usually make a quadruple batch and freeze the remainders. ;)

If people want the nutritional breakdown, I can do that.


A question for the masses!

Well, not exactly the masses I'm sure.

If anyone is reading this and can answer my questions, please do!

How do I get my measurements and weight lists to show up over on the side bar, and my ticker on the top or wherever else it happens to need to be? I tried farting around with the add list option, but it just confused the hell outta me.

Any help would be appreciated, ta verra muchly.


Dost mine eyes deceive me?!

Edit: Warning! Danger, Will Robinson, Danger! These links do show a very pale-skinned, obese chick in a crop top and shorts. If your eyes cannot handle such images, you're advised not to look. If you do look, any subsequent mental scarring is your own damn fault!

OK, now... This from about a week ago.

OMG I have to share these pics!

Don't know if you remember me talking about the capri pants that just would NOT zip up last month? (even though I was excited they went over the hips and buttoned at least.)

Guess what?
and then there's this one.

Grin Grin Grin

Sorry about the poor quality, I took them myself using a mirror. I was just that excited I couldn't wait for the weekend and Alaskaboy to take the piccies. I promise I'll get him to take ones with the other shorts on Sunday!

Hmmm the add image link isn't working, so I'll just have to stay with the links for now.

Yes, Alaskaboy did take the pics this weekend, after I actually remembered to ask him to do so, and out of curiosity I put a select few side-by-side.


Looking at them like this I can see the changes even better than ever before. How much change is there gonna be by the time I get to goal! Holy shite!


Thursday, November 09, 2006


I didn't realise I'd babbled on so incessantly over the last few weeks! My bum is numb, got a raging headache, and my fingers'n'forearms hate me. It's taken me hours to get these all transferred across.
There had been a whole 'nother post planned for today, but frigged if I can remember what it was. {shrugs} Oh well, musn't've been that important.

So, I need to get up, get dressed, (I just realised I'm still in my pjs! Oh the slobbery!) and head on out for a walk... and then chores. Blech.

But first, unga bunga! No, wait, some lunch!


Afternoon tea?

Whatever the hell it is you eat at 4pm after only having one other meal today.

Neeeed Fooooood!


In regards to last night's icecream.

After my epiphany yesterday afternoon I was afraid I was heading for a binge. I was most certainly not hungry after eating dinner. But, my tastebuds were demanding the icecream. Or iced coffee.
Not wanting to drink caffeine after 9pm at night, I opted for the icecream. I enjoyed every mouthful, but was able to stop once the serving was done.

I tend to serve, and eat, the ice cream out of chinese rice bowls. You know . . . the ubiquitous blue and white dragon pattern? Not the big soup/noodle bowl that holds four cups, but the little 1 cup size that you can easily hold in your hand and scoop the rice out with chopsticks. (

Once I was done eating i felt good, but no sooner than half an hour later I ate a mint pattie.


It wasn't till this morning looking back on it that I realised what was going on. Not only had I needed to make up the calcium from last week, which explains the dairy cravings for the past couple of days, but most of the foods I'd eaten yesterday were salty. Very salty. So I'm figuring the bod wanted something sweet to combat the extra salty tingle going on with the tastebuds.

Phew! Intuitive eating when I didn't even realise I was doing it. The very definition of intuitive I guess? HAHA


Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Choking one's chicken!

I broke 100 kgs (220lbs) back in December 2004. By the middle of January 2005 I was at 107 kgs (236lbs). Then, I did my lolly and got back down to 100.9 kgs (222lbs) by the end of March.

Then I choked.

I hovered around 103-104.5 kgs (226-230lbs) for the next seven months. But by the end of November last year I was at 100kgs (220lbs) even.

Again, I choked.

July this year? I was at 108.2kgs (238lbs) For someone who's in the vicinity of 5'2”-5'3” that's one big Mama! As of last week's weigh in I'm once again down to 100.9kgs. Here I stand once more at the borderline. Ack! Can't get song out of head! Must Write!

Somehow the way you look at me won't let me be
I don't want to be your prisoner so scales won't you set me free
Stop playing with my mind
I'm in such a bind
When you make my weight come down
I want it so, let me know
Scales please let it show
Numbers don't you fool around
Just try to see, I've exercised all I can,
You won't get the best of me
Borderline feels like I'm going to lose my mind
I'm gonna keep pushing my weight over the borderline
Borderline feels like I'm going to lose my mind
I'm gonna keep pushing my weight over the borderline
Keep on pushing me scale
This time I promise not to fail
I'll just keep on pushing my weight over the borderline

Apologies there Mrs Ritchie, I couldn't help it, honest. My muse, she does that, hijacks my post and goes where I really wasn't expecting. Bloody wench!

Where was I?
Ah yes.

I'm a big fat choker!

Correction. I was a big fat choker. I'm not gonna let it happen this time. The chickenshit who lives inside me is gonna be choked to death so she can't make me turn tail and run away again. Yes, it's that kind of chicken I'm planning on choking. So I guess those that thought it would be a hot, steamy post about wanking, sorry to disappoint.

Third time's the charm and all that, right? I don't even know why I keep choking at the 100kg mark. What's so scary about the double digits? I remember the feeling clearly last time I was standing on the threshold and it was definitely a mixed bag. Hope, fear, excitement, anger and eventually depression. It was all too much. I held it on the threshold for two weeks straight each time, and then badda bing badda boom. Lookit that! A honkin' huge dive back up. A frantic, despairing lunge back into safety. Safety from what?
The first time it was probably my body's reaction to the miscarriage, but the second time? I had no excuse. None. Zip.

People who say “losing weight is easy, all you have to do is stop eating so much” have obviously never had an emotional connection with food. Lemme rephrase that, an unhealthy emotional connection with food. I find it odd that quite often these same people will applaud those that spend hours at the gym out of pretty much the same reasons we spend hours at the trough. Fear. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of failure. Fear of the world in general. They erect a physical barrier so that people can't see the real them on the inside, same as we do. Theirs is just a more socially acceptable barrier. Any addiction is brought about by mental imbalance, it doesn't matter if that addiction is “healthy” for you or not. Maybe that's been my problem in the past, I hadn't been truly ready to give up my addiction.

Logically I know that if I keep eating the way I currently am, that if I exercise every day, then eventually I will become a healthy person, since I am now living a healthy lifestyle. Emotionally this scares the shit out of me. Logically I know 100kgs is just another number on the scale like any other. Emotionally I've placed great significance upon it. Logically I know that I will be below 100kgs by the end of this month and that I truly want it. Emotionally I'm dreading Thursdays this month as it's my weigh day.

I'm so scared. Scared that I'll screw up again. Afraid that I may not. Every year for the past five years I've been extremely disappointed when New Year's Eve rolls around. My one goal this year has been to get below 100kgs. In all probability I will achieve that goal this year. I'm floundering around in this sea of success and I'm not sure if I'm sinking or swimming.

Ugh, I just broke out in a cold sweat as my subconscious shouted at me, “It's because of the babies, Stupid!” See, sometimes this free form babbling really does help. LOL

I lost over 15 kilos in the lead up to coming to America the first time. I wanted to make as good an impression as possible on the man I hoped would become my boyfriend. At 80kgs though I still thought I was fat, in spite of having lost all that weight and months of working with a personal trainer. I look back at those pics now and realise just how buff I actually was.
10 kgs crept back on during the end of that visit and when he first came to visit me 7 months later. 2 glorious months we spent together, 1 in Australia, 1 in the USA, after which he proposed.
8 months apart was all I was able to stand before I had to come over to get married. I screwed up a lot of plans, but I knew that if I didn't go I'd most probably eat myself to death. It didn't help that Iraq was invaded around this time and I was shit-frightened that if I didn't go, there'd be a good chance I might never be able to go, so I went. I wanted to go, and I went, without thought for my menopausal mother's mental health, for my father's 50th birthday party the following month, for nothing but myself and my need to be with the man I love.
Married life is fantastic. INS was a pain in the arse, but a necessity for future happiness, so you jump through the hoops as they come up and don't complain.. well not TOO much or too loudly where it matters. I hadn't counted on missing my family, having culture shock, and suffering depression when I realised just how lonely I was.
Bear with me, this is going somewhere.
You see, I promised Alaskaboy last year after the miscarriage that we wouldn't get pregnant again until I was healthy enough to give it my best shot. Being healthy means getting pregnant. Being under 100kgs means a major step closer to having babies. To possibly having another miscarriage. Farther along the path to having little people totally dependent on us for everything. This brings home the ultimate reality for me about living overseas from all that I grew up with. And transcontinentally from all that Alaskaboy grew up with.
It scares the shit out of me and makes me ache for everyone involved.

His parents and sister live a 5 hour plane flight from here. My parents, brother, and nan, live a 15 hour plane flight from here. It's hard enough now saving to go and see them, missing out on each other's daily lives, missing my dog so badly, worrying about whether we can get a house and also keep up any regular sort of visiting schedule.
I'm from a very close-knit family. My parents both worked full-time and we spent many happy afternoons with Nan and Gramps after school. Big family gatherings for Christmas and boxing day. Family bbq's throughout the year. Etcetera etcetera.

Our kids will probably never know that.

I was talking to my father-in-law on the phone the other week, and in the background I could hear my mother-in-law and my eldest niece babbling away together as they did the dishes. I was consumed with hurt and jealousy. And yet I felt like a heinous bitch for feeling those things.

I also still have no friends of my own here in Los Angeles.

So yes, it's all about the babies. Once I'm healthy, my husband and I are planning to have a little family of our own. Yet, I'm so deathly afraid of what change that will mean to our lives. Each child adds another ticket to save for. Each child will bring home harder the reality of the choices we've made by living here so far from home. How will we cope with no support network? Each day that I stay fat is another day that I don't have to deal with any of this shit. I can safely say, “oh well, too fat to get pregnant, let's wait another year, dear.”

And that's NO reason to stay fat. My selfish fear of living the life I flung myself into is robbing us, and those around us, of the potential joy our children will bring. That's just not cricket!

The chances that I'll choke this time? Buckley's and None.
So yeah, maybe it is time I stopped being such a wanker and get on with living my life!

The life that I chose.

Consider this chicken officially choked.


Tuesday, November 07, 2006

halfway there! Wooo!

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Week Four - Check. (360 minutes)
Week Five - Check. (445 minutes)
Week Six - Check. (508 minutes.)


Monday, November 06, 2006

Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Week Four - Check. (360 minutes)
Week Five - Check. (445 minutes)
Day Thirty Six - Check. (60 minutes walk. 2 miles. SICK!)
Day Thirty Seven - Check. (65 minutes walk. 2 miles. SICK! 15 minutes strength training)
Day Thirty Eight - Check. (40 minutes yoga. SICK! 5 push ups)
Day Thirty Nine - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 25 mins yoga. 5 mins abdominal work.)
Day Forty - Check. (48 minute walk. 2 miles)
Day Forty One - Check. (50 minutes strength training. 1 hour 20 minutes walk 3 miles)

Tomorrow, I'll be half way through my 12 week streak challenge. So far I'm ahead of the game with a daily average of 57 minutes. :)
Having the weekly rewards has been absolutely fantastic. Not only does it keep me focused on only 7 days at a time (baby steps people, baby steps,) but it's also heightening the anticipation of how good it's going to feel to get that massage at the end. Plus the added bragging points of saying I did twelve weeks straight of exercise!

I'm REALLY loving the way my shape is firming up with all the extra exercise too. I can see muscles shyly poking out a toe from under the comfy layers of fat which they've snuggled beneath for so long.

Speaking of snuggling, I'm off to snuggle with Alaskaboy on the couch whhile we talk to his parents on the phone.


Friday, November 03, 2006

Fabulous Fifty Feats

This is in response to Crankybee's 10 week 80kg Challenge. The other week she set a ten week challenge for NYE. My challenge won't be ending on NYE, but on December 28th as that's when we fly out to Nebraska to visit friends for NYE. That's exactly eight weeks from today.

I'm calling my challenge Fabulous Fifty Feats. Why? you'll see when I list my goals.

Start Weight: 100.9 kgs or 222 lbs
Start Size: 18W (20 AUS)
Start Pushups: 10

1) Be able to do 50 consecutive pushups. (girlystyle)
2) Do an average of 50 minutes exercise every day between now and then.
3) At the conclusion of this I will be on or under what I weighed 50 months ago - 91kg/200lbs.
4) Make 50% increase in all the dumbells I use for strength training.*
5) Increase my usual walk route by at least 50%.**

So that's enough goals I think for the next 8 weeks. Looking forward to it!

*currently I use: 1 lbs for pec flys/chest work. 2 lbs for all other upper body work outs (ex biceps). 3 lbs for biceps and squats. None for rhomboids and trapezius, so would like to upgrade to at least 1 lb. (since 50% of nothing is still nothing. LOL)

** Usually walk 2 miles with the occasional 3 thrown in. So would be happy being capable of doing 3 regularly, with 4 miles once a fortnight by the end of the year.


Stay on Target, Stay on Target!

Well, with still four weeks to go in November I'm at 222lbs. :D

I am SO going to kick 220's arse all over town and to hell and gone this month! Woooo Hooo!

ANd you'll never guess what? A friend challenged me to do 15 minutes of strength training yesterday, since I was feeling a little better with the cold. And I did it and Lo I say unto the people, it was good.

SO good I had to ring my husband and brag to him about it. LOL I did a Cathe Friedrich lowerbody workout that I've never attempted before (modifying left right and centre and skipping to the next exercise when I was tired, but hey.. that's what you do when you're not up to their level yet!) and then, since that wasn't quite the 15 minutes I did some sit ups.. and then the twist on teh challenge. She wanted me to do an exercise I hadn't done before, but we compromised on one I hadn't done in at least 5 years. Push ups.

Not a push up, push UPS!

And you know what? I did girly pushups (knees and feet on the ground) because I know there's no way my body (especially my lower abs/groin) would cope with knees on ground feet in air, let alone proper plank style.

I did one.

Hmm.. not too bad, let's keep going. (thinks I)

5 .. still got more in me.

ok. ten's a good place to stop.

I rested a bit, and then did 5 more.

15 pushups when I thought I'd struggle to do one!

Thank you SO much G! I probably wouldn't have attempted them for months yet, if she hadn't have challenged me. Although, it'll probably be at least another week before I try them again. Am a bit sore now. LOL


Thursday, November 02, 2006

November's Goals!

First and most important goal. Kiss 220lbs good bye forever!
2 weight training sessions per week.
1 yoga session per week
Exercise very day for a min of 40mins per Streakathon
Continue with intuitive eating. Pay particular attention to stopping when full.
Improve time on 3 mile walk by ten minutes. (last time I walked it took me an hour and five minutes)
Lose inches.
Swim twice this month.
Weigh only twice a week, on the mornings of Thursday and Monday.

For me, that last one is gonna be the trickiest. Was last month, and will be again this month. There were times when I had that sucker in my hand and almost put it down on the floor to step on. But, I argued myselfm out loud, out of it. Thank Christ no one else was home.
Breaking myself of my addiction to the scale? Hmmmm. It's taken me months to gradually break myself of dieting and binging, so I'm figuring the scales will be the same. But any improvement I can show over weighing 5 days out of every seven, if not every day, then I reckon it's gotta be good. I know I'm not ready for only once a week weighing, or that most sanest of sane - once per month. Fer fuck's sake that gives me the cold sweats just thinking about it.

Ack. Sorry, nothing for ages and then I upchuck all over my lj. Will try to be more moderate.

You can quit laughing now ya know. :P


October Round Up.

Swim once a week in the pool I joined up at the end of September - 0/4
40 minutes exercise a day per Streak Challenge. - 31/31
Minimum three sessions of yoga for the month. - 9/3
Continue with Intuitive Eating. - 31/31
Lose weight. (started the month at 228 lbs) - 224 lbs
Improve time on 3 mile walk by ten minutes. (last time I walked it took me an hour and ten minutes) - 5/10
Weigh only twice a week, on the mornings of Tuesday and Saturday. - 4/5Tu, 4/4Sa Didn't weigh yesterday as I'm sick and completely forgot to, oh well!

Five out of seven goals achieved. I'm ecstatic! I think it would have been 6 of seven, except for the cold I caught over the weekend. Oh well, there's always next month.


A Question Of Etiquette

Whilst writing that post a few minutes ago, I was struck by a question. And that question has only grown and multiplied since. So much for my granny nap!

There I was, blithely and smugly babbling on about how I had successfully avoided the social trap of finishing what was on your plate, when I realised that maybe I should not be so smug.

It was easy for me to say no, well ok not easy, but easier, when I was eating something that I had paid for.
But, what if my friend had been the one to pay for my food. Would I have felt constrained to give in to her good-natured cajolery to finish my swordfish meal?
At what point would I no longer feel constrained?
Was there even a dollar value in regards to this?
Should there be?
Full is full, right?
What happens when it's relatives doing the cajolery?
Is it different for food someone has cooked themselves?
When it's especially for you and is your favouritest dish in the whole world?

Anyone care to share their thoughts on the matter?

Grant me strength if I don't get this sorted out before I go back to visit Aus next. Last time I put on over 7kg (approx 15 lbs) in 4 weeks. This time we'll be going for six!


Uppercrust and Snotty?

Not feeling frightfully British and all that rot, it's just that the last few days have revolved around bread and mucus. And sleep, and soup, and water and peeing. Ahh the glamourous aspects of having a cold. (no I won't tell you how I ended up peeing my pants!)

{skillfully changes the subject}

Wow, Look at that! I didn't realise it had been so long since I'd updated the great Streakathon of 2006!

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Week Four - Check. (360 minutes)
Day Twenty Nine - Check. (90 minutes walk. 4 miles. 20 minutes stretching)
Day Thirty - Check. (30 minutes walk. 1 mile. 20 minutes stretching.)
Day Thirty One - Check. (20 minutes walk. 50 minutes strength training.)
Day Thirty Two - Check. (20 minutes yoga. 40 minutes walk)
Day Thirty Three - Check. (20 minutes swim. 45 minutes walk)
Day Thirty Four - Check. (50 minutes walk)
Day Thirty Five - Check. (25 minutes aerobics. 15 minutes stretching.)
Day Thirty Six - Check. (60 minutes walk. 2 miles. SICK!)
Day Thirty Seven - Check. (65 minutes walk. 2 miles. 15 minutes strength training)

I've been busy plodding away at the exercise, getting out and about to book signings (Not my own unfortunately. Need to have a something published for that to happen!) preparing for a friend to come visit. Basking in the joyfulness that was turning 30 years old. Going down to San Diego for the weekend, and then getting a cold, that I honestly didn't think about updating it. Sorry 'bout that.

Have had a slight fluctuation since my last weigh in, went up to 226 on the weekend, but am back down to 224lbs as of this morning. Makes sense considering I was bloated thanks to PMS on Saturday.
That pales in comparison to how pleased I am with my continuing to complete the streak despite having this friggen cold. I so wanted to chuck in the towel the last three days, but I knew I'd hate myself if I did. Normally that wouldn't bother me and I'd chuck it in anyway, then subject myself and everyone around me to weeks or months of whining as a result about how useless I am and how I'll always be fat and something always happens to screw up my weight loss efforts so what's the point blah blah wah wah WAAAAAH!

In case you haven't guessed, I'm a bit of a baby when it comes to being sick. I want to be pampered and loved upon and fed soup and snuggled with, but when your husband works long hours that just doesn't happen. (note to self, get sick on a weekend next time!) So, there I was miserable and getting miserabler as the week was progressing. I really wanted chicken noodle soup, but I'd have to make it myself, and I had neither the inclination nor the energy to do so. And considering my tastebuds had taken a hike, Mike, it really didn't matter as long as the liquid was salty, hot and non-dairy, it should do the same trick. And for that special made with love touch, we just happened to have a shitload of minestrone in the fridge that I'd made the other week for Hubby to eat on the nights he gets home and only wants something light for tea. So minestrone soup with buttered toast it would be, I even managed to score the end crusts from two different loaves! Woohoo! Yes I know butter dairy, but not as bad as grilled cheese on toast!

You know what? I'm getting sick of typing Hubby, I don't call him that, ever. Bitch is one of my affectionate nicknames for him, but that might be misconstrued. I'm gonna go with a nickname he picked for when I refer to him on another friend's blog. Everyone, meet Alaskaboy. Alaskaboy? Meet ... well... umm {sound of crickets} Is there anybody out there?
For now I guess it's Alaskaboy meet the pixels on my livejournal. LOL

But seriously folks, this listening to your body stuff feels kinda weird.

Not just socially.
Case in point Friday night down in San Diego. I couldn't finish my main course, was too stuffed. My friend was horrified! Swordfish, and garlic mashed taters.. and swordfish! And you're leaving it on the plate!
I said, “Well if it offends your sensibilities that much,” she's half-Asian so she's really death on leaving anything uneaten, “you ask the waiter to box it up and have it for a snack later, or put it in the fridge over night for tomorrow's lunch.”
After that she tried to good-naturedly bully me into eating some more.
I held firm!
She didn't box it up. So I guess she was too stuffed also. ;)

I do wonder though if I'd felt more constrained to eat the remaining few mouthfuls if she'd been paying for my dinner. Sure it's OK to hold firm when spending my own {coughAlaskaboy'scough} money, like I did again on Sunday night at the dinner cruise, but could I have stayed strong against two lots of social etiquette?

I honestly don't know.

But also physically.
Whatta ya mean I'm full on only a small bowl of soup and two bits of toast? I wasn't full on that even as a kid!

And emotionally.
Having a yoghurt to combat the reflux from a few too many Habanero Doritos on Monday afternoon, and realising I was extra snotty... so not having any other milk or cheese for the remainder of the cold. What's WITH that. You know you really wanted grilled cheese on toast with the minestrone soup, but there you went being all grown up and shit.

Then there's mentally.
(Which leads me nicely back into the soup and buttered toast from earlier. LOL) Soup. Soup and buttered toast. YUM! My fervent hope is that since I've had the butter on the toast, and a fair bit of it, that the calorie deficit won't be too great from being sick and that I can continue losing weight once I get back to my normal diet. Which does seem to be occurring today. I've had a Nestle Mint Pattie for both morning and afternoon tea, plus also felt like a veg omelette with my buttered toast for lunch for a change from soup.

We shall see. I lost four lbs or 1.8kgs in the month of October. I'm hoping that since I now feel fit enough to upgrade to a 1 ¾ inch plank of wood for my step aerobics, and have gone up half-to-one lb in all my dumbbells for strength training that we will see an improvement on last month. Well, I felt fit enough the day before I got sick, will have to reassess once I'm capable of more than just a slow amble. But, that slow amble? I did it. Two days in a row. Despite them being granny walks and me needing granny naps after I was done, I still did them.

Best of all... I didn't negate 5 weeks of hard work in one fell swoop!

And now, I'm off for one of those naps in the lovely mid-afternoon sunlight. With a hat on natch. Slip, Slop, Slap, and all that!