Procrastination

I just read this somewhere else.  I think it had to do with budgeting or something, but as the author stated, it’s certainly a multipurpose issue.

When you commit to something — exercising more, eating better, saving money — it is challenging to stick with it.  Whole forests have been felled in the name of books meant to help us stick to self-improvement promises.

Every time I want to procrastinate about something, I shall now say to myself, “You’re killing a tree.”

I’m not necessarily the biggest tree-hugger that ever lived, but guilt?  Guilt, I can do.

Neglected Nikes

I’m actually nervous to check and see when my last post here was. So I’m skipping it. Yesterday I finally managed to post on my own blog, describing how the past month flew by without the benefit of my taking time to appreciate it and of course the diet/exercise combo was the first casualty of the time-suck.

Why is that? I’m not sure if it’s that way for everybody, but with me, if there is an interruption in my routine or God forbid more than one, something in my tiny brain breaks and all of a sudden weeks have gone by without an entry in the food journal and nary a sneaker has been laced up. With of course the irony being that when things get stressful there’s not much better you can do for yourself than exercise. File that under D is for Duh, you Doofus-assed Dummy. 

I spent the entire Summer walking the neighborhood, sweating my ass off and salivating for the days of cooler weather. I enjoyed the walks enough then to know that they’d become downright blissful in the crispy, golden October afternoons. Then October finally arrived, all hell broke loose and the number of walks I managed was…ONE. Yes, things were crazy. Yes, there were many days I honestly couldn’t fit one in. But truthfully would it have been that hard to take just even a half hour for myself and just do it? Come on. Because – full disclosure – you know I watched more than one TV show during the month.

I’m not looking over the fact that my weight has stayed the same and not crept back up – I’m very, very thankful for that, because it damn sure hasn’t been due to any effort on my part. But since today marks the beginning of a new month, I feel like it’s a good time to recommit and make a promise to myself : no matter what else is happening around me, it can all wait for a little while. I know full well it’ll be there when I get back from my soul-refreshing, brain-cleansing, life-affirming WALK.

Post Vacation Report

Baskin Robbins’ double scoop of chocolate chip in a regular cone.
Nachos and Southwestern Egg rolls from Chili’s.
Chocolate & strawberry sundae in a waffle cone from an old-fashioned ice cream shop that serves real Hershey’s ice cream still.
Pizza and mounds of antipasto from Angelo’s.
Wild berry smoothie from McDonald’s.
Filet o’ fish & fries from McDonald’s.
Another Baskin Robbins trip.
Favorite pasta salad from Ruby Tuesday’s salad bar.
Burgers. Mac & cheese. Hell, even some beer – woowoo!

Let’s put it this way: I was NOT looking forward to getting on the scale this past Monday morning. Because like all best laid plans, or at least mine, the ONE thing I wanted to do for keeping vigilent while on vacation – bring my scale – I forgot to do. And while I did manage to get in some form of activity every day – swimming, walking, a six-hour back-to-school shopping marathon – I was purdy darn nervous at how much CRAP I’d consumed over the course of the week.

I’d hit the two-month mark Saturday, so I know what the pattern has been anyway. A little weight comes off, I fluctuate back up a half pound or so, stay the same for a few days, then a little more comes off. It’s been quite a SLOW (but steady I guess) process. So I couldn’t fathom the damage I’d done going so far off the rails as far as crazy food, not enough water and no calorie tracking.

But! I got on the scale like a brave little soldier and was shocked. I weighed exactly the same as what it was the day I left – 149.8. I had to step off and step back on a few times to convince myself. I know it’s shallow to be this happy over something as trivial as this, but seriously? I can’t help it. I finally feel like some of the work and sweat and more work is starting to pay off. I’m excited.

Scheduling Woe Redux

On the heels of Christunity’s post…

Ideal Schedule:

5:45 a.m. – Wake up.
6:40 a.m. – Prepare breakfast smoothie.
6:45 a.m. – Drive to work while consuming said smoothie.
7:00 a.m. – Ass In Seat.
11:00 a.m. – Home for a healthy lunch.
12:00 p.m. – Back to work.
4:00 p.m. – Back home.
4:05 p.m. – Begin workout.
5:00 p.m. – Finish workout.
6:00 p.m. – Consume a healthy dinner.
10:00 p.m. – Go to bed.

Actual Schedule:

5:45 a.m. – Wake up.
6:40 a.m. – Prepare breakfast smoothie.
6:45 a.m. – Drive to work while consuming said smoothie.
7:00 a.m. – Ass In Seat.
9:30 a.m. – Starving of the hunger, raid vending machine. Find stale cheesy crackers that only serve to give me heartburn.
11:00 a.m. – Home for lunch – contemplate making a salad but fix a sammich on white bread with mayo and Lays potato chips instead.
12:00 p.m. – Back to work.
3:00 p.m. – Starving of the hunger, hunt up an apple – my nod to nutrition.
4:00 p.m. – Back home.
4:10 p.m. – Still starving of the hunger, eat cottage cheese. Doesn’t cut it. Eat crackers and cheese.
4:20 p.m. – Sit on the couch and stare off into space. Feel guilty for skipping my workout, too tired to care really.
5:30 p.m. – Contemplate making dinner.
6:00 p.m. – Order a pizza.
7:00 p.m. – Eat too much pizza.
10:00 p.m. – Go to bed.

You guys, I have ENTIRELY lost my mojo.

Six Week Update

More observations.

– As of this morning I’m down a little over eight pounds. Somehow I lost 2.5 pounds this week, but that’s more than the average, which has been more like 1 to 1.5 per week. I’ll TAKE. IT.

– I’ve heard for every ten pounds that goes you go down one size, give or take. I’m not sure how accurate that is, but I’m definitely back in size 10’s when before the 12’s were starting to get too tight. It’s so hard to see the small changes since you spend all your time with yourself that the clothes thing, for me anyway, is a really good indicator that shows me yes, something is actually happening.

– My rings are a lot looser and that’s been really exciting; for awhile there the wedding rings were leaving scary indentations I thought were going to be permanent.

– A couple of months ago I would’ve said we barely eat out, and whether I invoked Murphy’s Law or I just have a really twisted sense of what we do, it seems as though there’s been social eating EVERY WEEKEND since I started this. To deal with it, I’ve employed some interesting strategies: wearing clothes that start out restrictive before the meal and become downright painful if the meal becomes too large, increasing my water intake from just a lot to ridiculous, and conversationally steering people away from discussing what I am or am not eating.

– It is a special kind of torture on some of my evening walks when the breeze picks up the smell of beef cooking over a grill; it literally causes me to salivate. And on a morning walk the other day I actually smelled bacon, which was just sick and wrong.

– I’m finding I actually look forward to whatever exercise I’m doing on any particular day. My back doesn’t hurt nearly as much getting out of bed in the morning. My skin is breaking out a little from sweating so much, but you know what? REALLY not a biggie. I don’t know if it’s endorphins or what, but whatever it is, I feel really good. I don’t know why, but I’ve got back the feeling like I’m looking forward to something. I’m not quite sure what that something is, but it’s a really cool feeling to have.

Lesson Learned

Between this blog and my other, I’m sure I’ve mentioned somewhere I suffer from hypothyroidism. If not, I’m officially saying it now. This was discovered during the course of all the testing I had done during the fertility process (pretty much the only useful thing to come out of that whole deal). I was put on the medication Synthroid and instructed to take it EVERY DAY. As in, and this is a direct quote, “If your house is on fire, run back in and grab the bottle.” Okay then. I was also told I’d most likely have to take this medication for the rest of my life. Not a pleasant thought, but whatever – we all know I’m not afraid to take a pill, ha-ha, ZING!

Brian however, is not totally accepting of this idea. It upsets him to think of me having to depend on something like this from now on. He thinks there has to be a natural alternative, some kind of vitamin, mineral, vegetable, animal – anything would be better than something synthetic. I got offended, which wasn’t his intention but sometimes happens anyway, and told him I trust my doctor and for the eight bucks it costs a month I’m okay with this.

Then, a little over a week ago, I ran out of the meds. I called the doctor for a refill and was told she would be out of the office for the next week. For some reason instead of requesting someone else to call in the prescription, I thought, Whatever – I can wait. Maybe Brian’s right; maybe I don’t need this stuff anymore. I’m on such a roll with the healthy living; this’ll be fine.

Meanwhile, I continued to do what I’ve been doing – diligently exercising, consuming vast amounts of water and keeping count of my daily calorie intake. For almost a month this combination had been very successful with slow-but-steady shrinkage. I was losing between 1.5 and 2 pounds a week, very reasonable and satisfying to me.

But then, dun-dun-DUN, something started happening. The scale stopped moving. I figured okay, fine – the first of the dreaded plateaus must upon me. I didn’t let it bother me (too much) and kept on keepin’ on. Healthy food, daily exercise, water, etc. Then something else happened. The scale started going back UP. Like, steadily. Even with the very slight weight training I was doing, I knew it wasn’t that. My non-bathroom using may have also been contributing, but still that couldn’t be all it either.

It finally occurred to me as I was taking a shower and frightening clumps of hair was falling out (another awesome side-effect of a jacked-up thyroid) I realized it had been nine days since I’d last had Synthroid. I felt like punching myself in the mouth. But instead of doing that, I called for the prescription refill and picked it up yesterday morning. I asked the pharmacist about it and he confirmed what I already knew: I need to take the medication every day. Missing one day wasn’t *too* big of a deal – he actually advised NOT going into a burning building to retrieve it – but missing a week is definitely ill-advised. In that short amount of time my metabolism was again messed up.

The good news is it’s quickly fixable and I’ve noticed even just after two days things seem to be back on track with the scale and my hair and things in general. The bad news is that I’ll most likely take the medication every day for the rest of my life.

I’m okay with it.

I Ain’t ‘fraid of no Roast

I’ve been working for a little over two weeks now and I’m really happy with what’s happening. My “plan,” if you can call it that, is to count calories and do straight cardio for another twenty pounds or so and then I’ll start adding different things in – weights and all that, to start the toning process. So far I’ve seen about six pounds slide off and have tentatively been trying on some one-size-down pants and been excitedly zipping them up – one of my favorite feelings in the world.

My first test arrives tomorrow. (Note: all dramatics from here on out are for comedic effect; I realize my actions are not going to impact the rotation of Earth and the sun will still rise the next day) We’re headed to a family reunion at my MIL’s cousin’s house. We went last Summer too, and he lives in a beautiful spot right on a river, surrounded by tall bamboo trees and it looks like something out of a magazine. So that’s nice. And even though I don’t know exactly what’s on tap for food choices, based on my extensive research in the field, here’s what the tables will look like:

Salads – not the kind I’ve been eating; more like potato, pasta, jello, anything with a mayo-based dressing

Casseroles – I’ve always said leave it to the South to make a fruit or vegetable fattening; squash, pineapple, broccoli, green bean – anything including cream-of-something soup and a buttery top crust

The usual meats – slabs of beef, ribs, fried chicken (True story: Brian told me early on in the dating he needed me to learn how to fry chicken before we got married. Obviously he was high – I still don’t know how)

Mac & Cheese – deserves its own category

Desserts – despite my raging sweet tooth, I usually do okay in this area, as ice cream is my main weakness and that’s never around these outdoor events, because it wouldn’t survive the heat. Unless someone brings an ice cream churn like they did one other time but let’s not dwell on that. It’ll be mostly sticky gooey cakes and pies and I don’t have a problem skipping those for the most part, though in full disclosure I’ll say I’m happy Princess Time just ended or that could’ve posed a potential terror threat as well.

Beverages – this is a Southern Baptist, tee-totalling family and I’m lucky in that I don’t drink very much either so don’t need to worry that into the calorie equation. But. Sweet tea and soda will rule the day and I have a serious problem with both. For almost a month I’ve drank nothing, NOTHING, but a cup of coffee in the morning and water the rest of the day and I when see that beautiful amber sparkly bubbly liquid poured into a Solo cup over ice (Coke = my crack), I don’t know what I’ll do.

Anyway. I’ve learned by now there are going to be days like this that won’t be ideal. On the other hand, I’m not going to mindlessly chow all day and undo some of the progress I’ve made, nor am I going to beat myself up over indulging in some ridiculous food. My goal is to be mindful and moderate and just enjoy a nice Summer day with the husband and family.

That, and maybe run the sixty miles home afterwards.

Whatever Helps the Cause

So I’ve learned some lessons during this whole weight loss journey. One of them, a biggie, is when I’m all hyped up and excited about hopping back on the wagon, DON’T make too big of a deal of it. Last summer when we all joined forces and formed this blog, I was so happy. I was slowly but steadily losing weight and loved nothing more than discussing the subject with you guys and whoever else who would listen. Six weeks later things were chugging right along and I wrote a post about being nervous to break my routine to go on vacation. Then I went on vacation. DundunDUNNN…fucked.

I felt like such a failure and more than that, a fool. How many people (besides myself) did I disappoint? Probably nobody, but that’s not how it felt. I was embarrassed. I had thought making my goals public would shame me into staying the course. Ha! Well, we all saw how that turned out. Then when I was finally ready to start over, I was almost scared to come back here and admit it to anyone. Luckily for me you guys are all awesome and supportive and I feel like an idiot. In a good way.

Anyway, as good as it is to be back here, I’ve been even more careful in real life. Besides Brian, whom I live with and who notices when I stop doing things like asking for chocolate whenever he stops at a convenience store, I tried to keep it all on the DL, especially at work. I’m not what you’d call close to my co-workers, but we are friendly and make the daily small talk (they do way, way, WAY more than me, as in Please. Stop. Talking – my God).

The two women who have offices right next to mine are who I’m talking about specifically. They’re very nice, but to call them over-sharers is a gross understatement. Every day I’m treated to an almost endless stream of the minutae of every aspect of their lives. They get along with each other very well as you can imagine, but I’ve backed off to the point of being politely acknowledging and that’s about all I can handle.

I have a point, I promise – Jesus, I’m starting to sound like them.

So the other day I was eating lunch in my office – a salad. This is not unusual for me anyway, but for some reason as they were leaving to go out for lunch, they stopped in my doorway and started tag-teaming me.
“Ooh, that looks good!”
“What are you doing, eating a salad?” (Uhhh…)
“Are you on a diet?”
“You do look like you’ve lost weight!”
“Blahblahblahblah”

I was wearing pants one size down from what’s been the norm lately, which I was pretty damn excited about, so in a moment of pure weakness I admitted yes, I was “working on losing some weight.” Low-key. No big deal. Sure.

It takes way less than that for them to latch on and run with something, so they immediately started talking about it – since we’re all trying to lose weight why not turn it into something fun we can do together – a Biggest Loser type contest! We can send out an email to the other women, see if anyone else wants to participate and then at the end of three or six or however many months, whoever loses the most percentage of weight wins a prize! Weekly weigh-ins, the works.

Then, and I’m not even joking, they went out to Burger King.

You’d think my feelings for them along with my trying to keep the weight watching bidness to myself would cause me to immediately back out, right? Well, I thought so at first too. I’m not a joiner, certainly not when it comes to these people, and it just makes more sense to keep on truckin’ solo. Except the more I thought about it, the more I figured this might become a real source of amusement for me. A little friendly competition never hurt, right? And it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been motivated out of just purely wanting to shut someone up.

The contest starts this Monday. Today they asked if I wanted to go with them to the Old Fashioned Sandwich Shoppe for cheese fries and milkshakes because they wanted to “celebrate” while there’s still time. I politely declined and went back to my tuna on rye. Which they made fun of. And then upon returning went into great detail about how awesome the food was, still slurping their shakes and simultaneously griping about how full they were.

I think this is going to be fun.

Quantify

I called my scale a liar this morning. Then, I did the same thing to my tape measure.

I have kicked ass for the last four weeks, I haven’t missed a single workout, and I push myself a little further on a consistent basis. My eating, while not awesome, hasn’t been horrible either, and I’ve tracked it every day for a month and have made positive adjustments. Yet there has been no movement on the scale and no difference in inches. None. Zero. Zip. Nada.

However, I have seen progress in other ways. When I look at myself in the mirror, I believe that my face seems thinner, my belly less poochy, my butt a little more perky, and there’s beginnings of definition in my calves and arms. My body feels stronger, more comfortable to me; it moves easier, I have more energy. I sleep more soundly at night.

Then there’s a WORLD of difference in something that’s harder to measure – my attitude, my discipline, and my self-image. I’m damned proud of myself for finally gaining the consistency that I’ve historically lacked in my exercise habits. Proud of myself for sticking to the plan without wavering. And VERY proud of myself for not allowing my disappointment in the lack of tangible, measurable progress derail my mood, my discipline, my outlook. I’m going to stick to the plan, keep on keepin’ on, and continue to strive for my goals.

So, to me, I’ve made a ton of progress.

How do you quantify progress, when the scale counters what, in your mind, your efforts should have achieved?

Frustrated

I’m back to tracking my food intake/calories over at SparkPeople again (my handle is “geckotlc” if you choose to join – I think it’s a decent site). I don’t enjoy doing it – it’s tedious and time consuming – but I realize that I just have to if I’m going to make any headway with the Battle of Midsection.

I started tracking again on Tuesday, during which I consumed 2,003 calories. I thought to myself, okay, that’s the baseline of how I “normally” eat (badly), so I need to remove around 500 calories from that number in order to start losing weight at the rate I want to. I entered Wednesday with the goal of better nutrition in mind. I thought I did decently – not GREAT, but not horrible. Until I tallied things up this morning. And discovered that I ate 2,125 calories.

CHRIST ON A CRACKER (with cheese, and bacon… mmmmm… baaaacon…).

Things add up so frikkin easily and quickly (and yes, I am completely and totally honest with what I enter in the nutrition tracker – no low-balling for me, if anything I high-ball). I was derailed by bread (a spinach tortilla is 158 calories, a french roll is 180 calories), dressings (Ranch dressing, 3 tbsp, 180 calories; mayo, 2 tbsp, 180 calories), and, well, the M&M’s that I just had to have at about 2:30 p.m. (1 packet, peanut, 250 calories). Oh, plus, you know, the BACON that I added to the chicken breast sandwiches that we had for dinner last night.

Frickity frick frick frick. I suck at this. I’m frustrated, and it’s totally with myself. I don’t know what the hell it is with the gap between my intentions and my actions. Clearly, I have mental issues.

SO! Back at it today. If I follow what I INTEND to consume, it should be around 1,425 calories. I have other goals, too – the breakdown between fats/carbs/protein, getting enough fiber/calcium/potassium, etc. But for blogging’s sake, I’m just mentioning the overall caloric goal. No need to get too blessedly specific here, right? Unless you guys care about that kind of thing.

Hell, even I don’t really care, and they’re MY goals. Feh.

———-

As an aside, SparkPeople also provides an exercise tracker, but I’m not going to use it at the moment. Mentally “tracking” my intent of at least 30-45 minutes of exercise daily is specific enough. A person could make themselves crazy trying to calculate every little calorie burned. I’m making myself crazy enough with the calories I EAT, thankyouverymuch.