The worst allergies I've ever had...North of the Mason Dixon Line

Yes, I know what the Mason Dixon line actually is.  And, for most of my life I have lived north of it.

Which, I suppose is why I didn't feel that much in allergies until I went to Texas for 18 or so, long, grueling months.  During that time I could not breathe on a daily basis--so, well exercise was so out of the picture.  I guess I got used to that excuse.

It's spring here in Washington state, late spring, but spring nonetheless. I got tested for allergies in Texas--the 60 most common allergies in Texas.  After finding out I was so allergic to certain things that they really couldn't decide if I was allergic to anything else--although they suspected--it was a relief to move back north and have "seasonal" allergies again instead of 24/7/365 allergies.

Then this season came along. Holy crap what is going on with the allergies this year--because I know I am not the only one who is suddenly taking any kind of allergy medicine I can get my hands on, just to get through the day.

But the real issue is, I am so used to using that whole post-nasal-drip thing as an excuse to not exercise that here I am, end of May and contemplating cancelling my gym membership.  But that's just all kinds of wrong, right?

Where is my allergy med of the week now, I should really at least take a short walk...

On The Ball. Then On The Floor.

I started PT (physical therapy, not personal trainer, dammit) about 2 weeks ago to see if we can't un-curve my scholiotic lower spine so I can stop feeling like Quasimodo every time I get out of bed in the morning.  First I had an X-ray to make sure it wasn't all in my head.  Because you know, that would totally be like my stupid body.  Listening to my head for how it should feel.  BAD IDEA.  Lucky for me I seriously have a twisted up old spine!  I wish I had my own x-ray to show you but this is pretty close:

Luckily my spine itself actually looks good as far as bone density and those thingies that jut out.  And my discs are good.  So now we are trying to coax the vertebrae that are trying to slowly escape to come back into alignment.  My biggest problem is I have zero thigh muscle.  Like, rock hard abs (when I use them) and calves but my thigh and booty are just a-flappin' in the breeze.  I swear I hear applause everytime I run down the stairs.  Anyhoo, my back and knees take over for my thighs being lazy and that is causing me great pains.

My PT is focusing on strengthening my core (OK so my abs were rock hard when I ran every day and did 200 situps morning and night), trying to carve some muscle into the back of my thighs, and hopefully lifting my ass cheeks off my leg.  The most embarrassing part so far has been when she had me do a bridge, which is laying on your back, bending your knees with a medium sized ball between them, and then lifting your butt off the table without using your back or upper body.  I just couldn't do it.  The PT grabbed the back of my legs and they literally moved like mud flaps.  Wow.  I am skinny-fat!  That explains why even though I'm at a pretty low weight I still can't fit into most of the jeans I fit into when I was pre-third baby at this weight.

My starting stats at the beginning of PT, three sessions ago:
Height: 5'6 3/4
Weight: 126
Body Fat %:  20.1

After three sessions:
Weight 127
Body Fat 19%
I lost 1 percent body fat already!  In 3 sessions!  And I barely broke a sweat.  There really is something to be said for this physical therapy stuff!

Not sure if my height has changed yet but I haven't had a chance to see.  It should get back up to normal (5'8" when I was in highschool) or at least closer to it when my spine untwists!

I had hoped to go again today, but out of nowhere I had an IBS episode that was a result of yesterday's stressors about an hour before I had to leave for it.  I really didn't want to have to do ab exercises in that condition, and they only have one bathroom so IBS won out today.  I get to go tomorrow at 10am to make up for it though.

That was *super fun*

I walked out of the gym today to a beautiful, sunny, warm enough day to wear short-sleeves.  It was wonderful.  Glorious, made me want to climb the mountain I saw outside my gym.

Yeah, I get it, it's a crappy iPhone picture, edited to look better, but really, let's be honest, it's a cell phone picture. I have no business taking a cell phone picture of such a majestic mountain.

But, I am glossing over the point.

I said, "I walked out of the gym today,"  meaning, that at some point before that moment of lunacy about climbing that mountain--which, coincidentally is considered the most dangerous volcano in the Cascades region, and a massive monument reaching almost singularly into the sky at over 14,000 feet Wikipedia, Mt Rainier)--I walked in.

It's been about two weeks.  Two, long agonizing weeks, filled with kids spring break, insane insomnia, inability to do my homework--and what the heck happened to my living room and kitchen?  But I walked in.  I started again.

I called my Mom after the workout (because I am pretty sure hubby had gone to sleep, having worked a 24 hour shift, and well, he didn't answer the phone) and told her "I did a full 30 minutes FINALLY."

I then proceeded to tell her: "I wanted to quit at minute 6, 12, 15, 21, 22, 23, and 24-30."  Boy, did I.  Hubby called me at about minute 13, which tried to give me the quit excuse.  I had been doing an hour a day before this last two weeks, but goodness, that half hour was hard to mentally get through.

After a few minutes talking to my mom, I explained I had to do "cleaning, light to moderate effort."  Not because I want to burn more calories, but because, I actually have to clean that front area of the house the kids think is their rainy-day playground.  (Think Sleepless in Seattle here: "It rains 9 months out of the year there.")

Now, since I have spent the last half hour looking for youtube videos instead of taking a shower and getting started on my day--I suppose it's time.   But first, one more gem to get you going also:

Goodness I miss hubby.

<3 Maggie

Will I ever make it back to the gym?

While I knew this would happen, here I sit, well into Spring Break for the kids, wondering if I will ever make it back to the gym.  Technically, my decision to not go to the gym is none other than my own, as technically, my kids are plenty old for me to leave them 3 minutes away for about an hour or two. 

But then again, technically, I do not relax and zone out as much as I could, knowing they were safely tucked away at school while I obliterate myself with fast-paced music and endless miles on the elliptical.

Photo Credit

So, this week the kids and I are working on reconditioning our eating habits.  I admit, I was as much a detriment to this as anyone--whatever you want to say leads to people buying crappola to put in their bodies.   I have been looking at ingredients on the items I have purchased with coupons--which, as I state I do out of necessity, but wowzers--what exactly is that stuff in those cans?

Let's look at it from this perspective:  if you go to a farmers market, buy a bunch of fresh food, and can it yourself, you don;t have to add anything really to make it last a year or more.  I mean seriously, that's what I see anyhow, through hours of research.

So why does industry feel the need to add "preservatives" to canned, or jarred food?

It's a conundrum.  Or habit, perhaps.

So I don't know, it seems it could be actually possible to keep a few things on hand--make your own jams and the like (that one girl on youtube who cans meatloaf was a little too much for me) you could in the long run save money.  Not by saving money on the food necessarily--but maybe in still providing whole foods to your family and thusly cutting down medical bills?

I don't know, personally, but it comes down to a decision this summer, I guess.   Maybe it will add to the level of health over the next year?  We shall see.

Reckoning

I do know this is about getting in shape--or trying to be healthier, or staying sane I suppose.  I imagine it's a long journey I have started here.  But, what I didn't understand when I started writing about this is the absolute fear of laying actual reality out there on the table.

Yes, yes, I can tell you a little about what I learn in the process of re-conditioning myself.  I can talk about my crazy obsession with couponing--out of necessity really.  I can talk about my kids and I, starting to can our own food, about trying to eat more healthily. I can also talk about the psychological detriment trying to find a job in this economy is--and why I started working out--to clear my head really. 

But do I have the guts to really lay it all out there? 

Here's some background--my husband of almost 14 years is stationed 3,000 miles away.  He is stationed there based upon the needs of the Army.  I moved up here with the kids because I have severe allergies in the south--so bad that when they tested me they could only guarantee one allergy was a true, gods-honest allergy.  It was so bad, it inflamed my entire back.   I was stabbed (with tiny little needles, mind you, so not so bad) 54 times, and that one allergen engulfed my entire back.

It was dust-mites.  Something that exists everywhere--and only in cooler, more northern climates in a seasonal form. 

So, when a position became available, and was offered for a 13 month term position (that would no-doubt be permanent once I had arrived in the area, according to the hiring manager), I packed the kids in the car and headed north, to Seattle, Washington.

After the 2010-2011 budget fights, the position was eliminated.  So now, I live 3,000 miles away, with three kids, two house-holds, recently reduced unemployment compensations and a new bit of data--the emergency unemployment compensation extension I have will end after tier 3--in less than 10 weeks.   Meanwhile, the VA is fighting with me because I do not have an 'official' diagnosis, so they want to cut my benefits--really the one thing keeping the kids and I afloat during this time.(Female Veterans have a harder time finding work)

Add to that all the wonderful news we hear about people trolling the internet to cut you out of getting a job--really, Facebook passwords? (Is Your Facebook Password like your Mail, House Key or Drug Test?)  I mean Facebook is the one place I am semi-me, and there with my friends, honestly. So, really, I get a bit paranoid, wondering if anything I post online will dismiss me from getting a position. 

So when I post here, I am honestly very, very, very subdued.  Very unwilling to admit that I do have a personality and real opinions on things--because isn't that making a decision that could hinder someone from getting a position?  And, further, if I tell the truth about what this job search has been like--what I personally have gone through in this time off, doesn't that impact my ability to get a 'call-back'?

So where does that leave me and my children?  Well, it leaves the kids watching mom in an extremely high state of anxiety, stress and what my mother calls "balancing on a knife edge." And it leaves me there, on the knife's edge, wonder which side I will fall down next. It leaves me making decisions between brakes and food, between electricity and car insurance, between dog food and toilet paper.  Yes, it is THAT close and tight in the house.

So I work out--I work out hard.  I stop applying for jobs during the week when I start the downward trend toward self-loathing (don't worry all you guys who think unemployed people sit on their bumms collecting your tax dollars--I paid into unemployment a lot of money over the course of the last 15 years, and I usually have to apply for about 30 positions once I get to the top of the slope for downward spiral).  I work hard on being frugal--and remain healthy, because the last thing I need is to become a further burden on society by not being healthy and needing health-care that you feel you are paying for--when once again, let me reiterate--I served my country in uniform for over 6 years, I served in the civilian corps for another 6 or 8, and my husband (whose healthcare I fall under) has been down range 4 times, to Korea once, and has been separate from us based on the needs of the Army for the better part of 7 years out of our almost 14 year marriage.

So, saying that because I am unemployed with three kids and therefore a slug, reaping the benefits of a "welfare" state does not tell the whole story, and it does not help me, or society.   It does not help to say "get off your butt and get a job," either.  Because trust me, I try...day in and day out.

I am like desperately seeking Susan out there, pounding the pavement looking for a job I can support the kids on, while trying to get my husband stationed up here and therefore having one household. .I spend hours working to keep my skills current, hours keeping the house frugal, and hours looking for work.  Every.  Single.  Day.  

And that's all before I do the regular "keeping the household running" work, doing homework with the kids--and working on my own school-work. 

So, next time you make a judgement call on someone...make sure you have at least half the story---and no, this is not half the story either. 

The rest (of the half, that is) would truly make your skin crawl.

I Lean To The Left

As I was whining about in my last post, its still effing cold here in VT.  And ever since it swang (is that a word, prob not!) that way my back has been hurting more and more each day.  So today I decided to stop kidding around and get a back x-ray.  I love my doctor, she pretty much does what I ask without questioning me.  This is my REAL doctor not whoever is on duty.  She got me in for an x-ray within 10 minutes of me seeing her.

She came in with a gown and said "Pants and bra off please!"  Uhhhhhhh oops if I'd known that i wouldn't have worn my sexy black lace thong, but ya win some ya lose some.  Also might have thought about shaving my legs...thank goodness the x-ray room is nice and dark!  I rolled myself up onto the cold metal table and let the tech position me.  "Any chance you are pregnant?"  "Hell no."  "Good answer!"

She only had to take 2 pics total, one of me laying flat and one of me on my side "hold your arms like you are praying to God" she says.  I like her.  When I got back into the room my doctor said, "These are beautiful pictures!  The tech said it was easy because you are so thin."  WHAT??  I hadn't heard those words in a long time.  I look WICKED skinny in an x-ray!  Even after eating a bowl of cookie dough for lunch and some birthday cake and ice cream last night for my son's birthday!

Why did I eat those things?  As I wrote on a friend's note about weight loss trials and tribulations: You should ALWAYS eat that which you crave, even if its something nasty like cookie dough or peanut butter microwave s'mores.  That way you don't go eating healthy things like cheese, eggs, yogurt, and toast trying to fill that hole that is growling at you, and then eating a giant bag of M&M's on top of it because that's what you REALLY wanted in the first place!  You save a ton of calories by just giving in and getting it over with.

PB&F on double fiber multigrain bread and my vitamins, crying.

And I always save my vitamin downing for those times that I'm eating something horribly bad for me in hopes of at least making it a vitamin-rich pile of sugary fatty goo.

In conclusion my spine is indeed curved pretty bad to the left, which is what is causing this horrible pain.  So, I will be doing PT next week and probably for 6 weeks after to try to cope with it.  Maybe I can finally get some alone time!

Absolute Demotivation!

I miss you, Summer!!!

Photo (c)2011 Elisabeth Finstad

Today my co-author Maggie called me to see if I, too, was experiencing a complete lack of desire to do ANYTHING.  We have concluded that the extreme weather conditions that we keep getting (we are at almost the same latitude on opposite ends of the country but she's closer to the ocean) are sucking us dry.

My own experience here in VT was 10 days of absolute utopian weather conditions.  It was in the 80s for 5 days straight and all the other days were in the upper 70's and sunny.  Then one day BANG it turned cloudy, windy, and went down to 19 degrees.  My body said, "Oh Poppycock!  This won't do!" and then  whatever endorphins or synapses or neurotransmitters that were making me feel good just shut off.

For the past 3 days I have been spending as much time as possible wrapped in my blankets with a heating pad and watching TV.  Its like my meds just stopped working!  My 2 year old kept saying "I go outside???" and I had to explain what sleet was to her.  She was fine with me reading book after book to her and watching TV with me.  She's almost starting to like Dr Phil.  Just kidding, she hates it.

 I decided that the only kind of exercise I was going to be able to log today in to MyFitnessPal was probably "Cleaning, light to moderate".  So I decided to do lots of it.  I tackled the kids rooms first.  That took me 2.5 hrs.  Then at 12:45 I realized I was effing hungry so I went downstairs and made lunch for Autumn.  After I cleaned the kitchen (another .5 hrs).  I was shaking by 1:15, but didn't eat my own lunch until I could put my kid to nap first so that I could eat something disgusting.  Let's just say it resembles cookie dough without the eggs.  She would totally want in on that and I just wasn't willing to share.  With my tummy full of deliciously nasty "stuff" I went upstairs, turned on my netbook, and settled back into my bed with the heating pad on.

This is so typical of my body.  I finally have weighed the lowest ever since before I got pregnant with my littlest tornado, and I fall into a slump which will probably make me gain 5 lb.  I only have 2ish lb to go until I hit my goal weight of 125 lb.  Oh, the injustice!

Well, Dang.

Hoooo doggie its been hot in Vermont for the past two weeks and instead of sitting on my butt blogging and editing pictures like I usually do I actually got up and went outside!  Every day all day!  We have broken the record for high temps here for the past FIVE (5) days in a row!

 

80s people!!

This ain't normal folks.

Let's see, a recap of how I have tried to substitute real life movement for hypnotized elliptical training/CSI watching:

At least I got to see a bald eagle on my pee squeezing walk

I walked for 5 hours 2 Saturdays ago.  Or was it last Saturday?  Who keeps track of stuff like days and times anyway?  I started walking at 9:30am.  I got a half mile or so from home and realized I had drank a 16oz coffee right before I left.  Go before you go, people!  That's like a rule of life you are supposed to learn when you are 2!  SO I thought I would be fine just "holding it".  I made it another mile before I started hopping.  I went to call my husband to come get me and saw that I only had 1 bar of battery left!  My phone is a piece of genuine crap and I knew if I tried to call and he didn't answer that I'd be shit out of luck.  Or piss.  whatever.   So I texted him instead.  I waited for 5 minutes at the place I told him I would be, eagerly anticipating a ride to the nearest loo.  Nothing.  So I texted him again.  I told him I would meet him a little farther down on the main road.  Waited for 10 minutes, took some pictures of dirt, and still no blue car carrying my knight in shining armor.  Damn.  I looked at my phone and it gave me the finger.  It said "Battery Low" and just kept blinking.  I looked around for a place to go but really there was no where.  So I started walking.  I imagine you tone up your glutes when you are walking how I was walking.

I made it home (2 miles away P.S.) and glared at my husband as I walked in the door.  Did I mention I was totally PMS'ing?  Oh yea it WAS this past Saturday!  All coming back to me now.
"Don't you have your phone on??" I snapped.  He had that look of "Oh shibitz" on his face, trying to remember where he had put it.  "I had to PEE!!!!  What if I had been kidnapped?!?!  They would have taken me!"  And he probably would have been totally fine with that at this point.  I regrouped in the bathroom and then declared that we were taking another walk.  This time with our 2 year old.  I walked around for another hour and a half with them.  Suddenly I felt a sharp pain inside of me.  The kind that makes me look at my little rump roast I mean daughter and gives me Wile E. Coyote ideas.  I was STARVING.  I had totally forgotten to eat anything since I had breakfast, which was at 7:00am.  OOPS.  We were 2 miles away from home again.  All I had was a stick of gum.  That stick of gum was pulverized into a fine powder by the time we finally got home.  I inhaled a bagel and most likely some kind of chocolate.

I decided that I needed to detail my car.  I'm not sure what that term really means, but I took it to mean that I needed to make my car look something other than a mobile dumpster.  First, I washed it.  Then for good measure I washed my van as well (way bigger, way more calories to burn!).  Then I opened up the car and started heaving crap out.  On the floor where my older child puts her feet (and sometimes my oldest child) was this big dark stain that God only knows what it is.  I made my husband clean that.  Then I polished everything, vacuumed the hell out of it, and hosed down the floor mats.  The sun was getting low in the sky but it was still 75 degrees so I took a walk.  By dinner time my feet were tingling and my thighs told me they give up.  I felt good.  Now if only I hadn't been PMS'ing and eaten all that chocolate.  Its really amazing that I haven't gained 10 lb since Saturday.

View from the top of Mt Philo

Sunday I hiked up Mt. Philo with some ladies from church, which is the best hike ever because its PAVED.  Yes, a bike path basically up this somewhat small mountain that overlooks the lake and the real mountains.  We took  my 11 year old son, a 6 year old child, and a dog with us.  As soon as I stepped out of the car my thighs were like "Hey!  Remember yesterday?!?!  Our union says we get a day off!"  My thighs don't really talk to me I swear.  Don't tell anyone.  So I pretended I was not in pain and started up all perky and stuff.  The dog was RUNNING up the mountain.  Oh to be a 9 month old Doberman.  When we got to the top it was beautiful out still.  Then we went back down.  Super easy.

Monday I did sit on my ass for a while.

But I walked the kids home from school so I got 2 miles in.

Tuesday I walked the kids to school, and took a walk in the afternoon to get my little one to sleep.

Two of my little freakmonkeys.

 85 flippin' degrees.

Wednesday I drove a lot and walked a little.  

SERIOUSLY!?!?!

Thursday (today) I walked the kids to school and then went on a muddy hike through a local state park with my friend and her daycare.

Indian Brook

Now that was interesting.  I then walked my middle child home from school.  We call that a "leisurely" walk when coding it on My Fitness Pal.  My little doop-dee-doo is not a fast walker.  I'm ok with that though.

 If I'd been walking too fast I wouldn't have gotten to see this!

I didn't eat breakfast today (not on purpose) but I did eat three yogurts, 3 small peppermint patties, a peanut butter and fluff sandwich (also not on purpose but I ain't complaining), 2 tacos, 4 small peanut butter cookies, and a bowl of ice cream.  Pretty sure I evened out my calories burned.  I just can't seem to get to that point where I'm exercising more than I'm eating.

Tomorrow is to be the coldest day we've had in 2 weeks at 60 degrees with a stiff wind.  Sadly, the high pressure system that was holding off the eskimo air from Canadia (typo but i'm keeping it) is finally moving out and normal March weather in Vermont is coming for next week.  Which means I'll be back to sitting on my butt and desperately trying to stay below 130 lb by using the elliptical three times a day to balance out my chocolate addiction.  It seems to have calmed down since, you know, Auntie Flo came.  Thank God for that I was running out of Hershey bars!

Self Motivation

I have to start motivating myself, apparently, as I ran out of funding for personal training sessions. I kind of feel bad for Average Joe, because me cancelling means he has to find a new client.  Unfortunately for him, personal training goes down with a bad economy--much in the same way as I had to cancel after only 13 sessions.  Also, it's tough to live up here in this area on what he makes--we had the conversation a lot about how he really does work seven days a week, every week, luckily doing something he loves.

 And, he doesn't get to use me for his wall of fame.   Which is fine by me, but apparently I was a poster girl--with no poster.  I have no idea what I actually accomplished with him--just that I sleep better, and I am a lot less stressed, which is good.  Oh, and I do so hope I get a job soon, because these jeans sure are getting baggy and I am not sure I can spring for another pair.

So, now I have to have absolute self determination to complete what we started together.  Which, generally I do not have trouble driving myself when it comes to work, school, taking care of the kids.  It's the little things I should do for myself that get pushed to the side.

Like working out.  Which is why I signed up for the training--it MADE me have an appointment, a place to be and a mission to accomplish while there.  Now, I signed the kids up for spring track, and told them to run--we will not be doing long jumps or shot-put, just not going to happen.  Use the training in track to get ready for a summer 5 or 10 k.  And the kids are with me it it, or so they say.

I just have to force it through myself--after this time off with the kids, force myself and them to cheer me on.  They are off for two days this week, then a weekend--one week back at school, then a week off for spring break.  Training is going to be difficult at best during this two weeks.

And soon, according to Average Joe, I should finally let myself back on the treadmill.  Or maybe hit a park with the kids and do real road or track running.  Maybe, just maybe, if I do it right, I will not end up with shin splints or stress fractures.

Thank god myfitnesspal allows for "house cleaning" as burning calories.

Smashed it...No, not on St. Paddy's day... or, the power of music

So, I've been working hard to get past that blasted 12 to 12.5 minute mile pace I have been stuck at on the elliptical.  And, to be frank, I have my own personal playlist I use at the gym--but after a bit of research, I find that the playlist is best really for cleaning the kitchen, or scrubbing my toilets.  (Adele anyone?)

So, I looked it up...man, everything is on the internet.   Since I am trying to cut my time, and increase the distance I complete in a 60 minute session, I had to find something better to listen to.  Yeah, I am a bit competitive with myself, I admit.  Which is why Average Joe really should get me to compete with myself rather than with someone else, who may "make it to the wall of fame" before me.

Sorry, Average Joe, I really don't care how other people view me--I care about what I can accomplish...it's trial and error for me.  So, during my few days off this week, I downloaded what I can for my "Maggie" playlist--you know the one with Adele and Jewel...as well as a few old songs that shouldn't be there for a workout--like "One Headlight," but it brings back such memories.

Here are a few of the songs I found that really got my blood pumping to push me through some hard earned goals...I will be adding a few more later:

Now, the beat on this is just perfect--but if you're like me, you actually listen to the words, because just about all songs tell some sort of story.  This is actually a sad story, but good beat.

This is from my daughters playlist -- and for running it really should be a bit faster, but I love the words...it brings me back to why I am doing this "getting in shape thing."

Ever since my hubby was downrange the first time, and started watching "Veronica Mars," I have loved this song.   There is a faster version somewhere out there.

I can't seem to make a playlist without the Clash, it's in my blood.

This song makes me feel naughty and good all at the same time, so I punch through that last bit of a mile with it.

There are also two songs I chose to slow down to, usually use them both, one for a warm up and one for the cool down:

And the Final song--I like to end on this:

I found today, that choice of music can really make my work-out.  While I am old and set in my ways, I will be searching for more songs to push it with.   Better yet, Smash it.

Hubby recommends Pantera, "Walk," but it didn't make my pop cut :)

What do you go for when you are looking for something to help you push yourself?

<3 Maggie <3

Back in the Saddle-bags...

Well, I've been forced, cruelly, to take a few days off the work-outs.  Some mix of horrid cold and severe allergies have been knocking my sinuses out of commission.

I did go do the work-out scheduled with Average Joe on Thursday, but...that's about the size of it.  Most of the work-out with him was spent with him snapping his fingers in my face wondering "Where did you just go, Maggie?"

Because apparently I would stare off into space mid-lift. Literally, mid lift...like I would rest in the 'flexed' position and stare off into space thanks to cold medicine.

I have not done much in the way of cardio--unless you, like 'myfitnesspal' count everyday chores as cardio. 

Today--I really should get back in the gym.  I know it's Sunday, but I am betting there will not be many people there.  (Being the day after St Paddy's Day).

Not sure who owns this above--it came around Facebook yesterday.

 And, since I have a legs day tomorrow, I really should do something before training, right?

 

Found this on Pinterest of all places---but searched it on Youtube for ease :)

 

Yeah, maybe I should stop watching Downton Abbey?

Someone needs to get me a cup of coffee, and 86 me from Starbucks before I get back in my three a day habit.  After just a few days off, I am pretty sure my saddlebags are fully engaged now.

I walked into the gym today with a mind to 'take it easy' and only do about a half hour on the elliptical trainer.   Trouble is, I had a lunch interview yesterday, so I had to 'split the workout.' Which is difficult at best.  First there is the motivation factor--I had already worked with Average Joe for an hour of humiliating squats, balance ball work, and that blasted kettle ball--what is that all about anyhow.

So, coming back to the gym after a leisurely lunch in my spanks--because I am not quite there with the jiggle yet, was traumatic.  I ended up doing about 35 minutes on the elliptical yesterday--three hours after my warm up and one hour in my own personal hell.

Squat really is an unpleasant word, you know?

Photo Credit

No, no, that's not me...Average Joe is not that nice.  He has me turn the Bosu over so that the stable side is under my feet, you know, in case I get 'cocky' like Booth's belt buckle.

Photo Credit

I admit, I wore that same belt buckle during my interview,  under my highly professional suit, with an emerald green shirt, because Mommy said to.  "It brings out your eyes, and it's such a dreary day up here anyhow.  May as well add a little 'pop.'"  But, I digress...again.

So yesterday, I cramped up at 35 minutes to the point of stopping --probably all the water at lunch.  Nothing like going to Olive Garden for their water.  And Dry Salad.

Today, I had every intention of doing the same, you know taking it easy.  But I could see Average Joe from the corner of my eye during the warm up--which put the kabash on that.

So, like anyone who has lost their mind--and had a hearty breakfast of a cup of Chobani Yogurt (Fat-free Raspberry) and TWO count 'em, TWO Grande, Triple, Non-fat, Caramel Macchiato's at 120 degrees (so I can chug rather than sip), Stirred--instant gratification rather than waiting for the caramel at the bottom--I started the interval training program on the elliptical.  You know so it's obvious that I am sweating.

O--M--G.

25 minutes in, my friend called, so I answered, no doubt out of breath.  She is like "Why did you stop?"

"Well......you.....called...GASP....so...I...GASP....had...an...excuse...GASP...to...tone...it...down."

But here's the thing... I...felt...A-MAZING after the interval training.  It was so awesome. I know the calculations on the calorie counter on the elliptical were dead wrong, but I totally didn't care.  I did another 30 minutes at regular (high) level, just not too fast. 

When I finished, I felt better than almost any workout to this point. Totally, going to do the intervals again as I can. I was dripping with sweat, felt like the macchiato's weren't going to make my body seize, and was really ready for the day.

When I got home and was about to get in the shower--I got the call from Aidan's school to come pick him up because he had a bad day and was throwing a typical Aidan fit. 

There went my high from the workout.


Sigh.

Back Down

This pic has nothing to do with my post but it makes me happy.

Tuesday last week I had a crown put on that required a lot of novocaine and apparently the spot on my gums that I had damaged with a pointy french fry (exactly why I NEVER used to eat the pointy ones at McD's when I was a teenager) got irritated from all the frigging around the dentist did.  When the novocaine wore off I wanted to die.  I had to go lay down in my bed and sleep the pain off it was that bad.  All day long I was in pain in my mouth.

The next morning I woke up and had no pain in my mouth.  I was so happy!  But then I started to get out of bed and BAM my back went out.  The pain in my mouth had caused me to tense up so badly that my pre-existing musculo-skeletal imbalance flared up.  Last time it happened this bad was in 2004 and I got pregnant with my 2nd child because all I could do was lay on my back for two weeks.......

Thankfully pregnancy is not going to happen this time!  But on Thursday the pain had not gotten any better so I made an appointment with my doctor's office.  Unfortunately I did not get my regular doctor who is young and agreeable.  I got an older woman who has been there a long time.  I had to bring my two younger kids with me as I didn't know how long the appointment would last and didn't want to leave them with the oldest for too long.

If you are wondering, yes I have gone to a chiropractor many many times.  They can fix it for a few days but then it comes back.  I really want to find out what can be done long term.  And get some muscle relaxers so I could sleep that night.  First the doctor asked me about 10,000 questions to rule out spinal cord injury.  Apparently she didn't hear me when I said that it happens all the time and I just need a prescription.  As the girls began causing ruckus after the first 20 min of questioning (we had also just spent 35 min waiting for the appt to begin as they were running late) she finally seemed to listen to me.
"Please, I just need some Flexeril.  I have had it before for this same problem and it helped."
"So, yes, I think that would probably be the best thing then.  Some Flexeril. OK.  But I want you to take Advil for the pain."
"But Ma'am, Advil does NOTHING for me.  I took some yesterday and it just doesn't work.  I have a prescription for Vicodin that I need renewed..."
"Oh, well, I don't like to give narcotics to women with young children." She says.  WTF.  OK, so apparently she failed to note that I have had a script for it for the past 2 years to take for pains that advil does not help and that I have never abused it or tried to get any for any reason other than pain. WHATEVER.  THANKS JUNKIES.

I didn't feel like arguing due to the intense pain and kids screaming and running around so I took the script for the Flexeril and left feeling about the same as I usually do at this doctor practice:  annoyed and unheard.  Now yes, I am an arrogant, egotistical, stubborn person.  I know that about myself.  But why is it that most of the time when I go to the doctor I already know what I need, the doctor doesn't listen to me, yet comes to the same conclusion that I already had and then pretends they thought of it?  Am I just nuts or what?  Oh well.

So, long story long, what ultimately worked was Flexeril to help me sleep, heating pad for an hour while watching Criminal Minds, and then after 2 days of that I started using the elliptical BACKWARDS ONLY for an hour each night, then heating pad for an hour watching CSI.  Today, exactly a week later, I woke up and my back didn't hurt at all.  Well, until I picked up the laundry basket for the first time in a week.  I won't do that again!!

<3 Betsy

The Learning Curve, or, I am just not 18 anymore

I meant to write this yesterday, since there was literally absolutely nothing else I could do anyhow.  Instead, I ended up watching "Downton Abbey," yet again, longing for a time that insults had class. The first season is available streaming on Netflix, if you too want  a time when insults had class.  It also has Dame Maggie Smith as a snarky old Dowager Countess, which just adds to the allure for me also, but again, I digress.

This past Sunday, I got it into my head that I needed to walk the kids until they were so tired they could barely move, you know so I could study in peace without Aidan running in every few minutes begging to use the iPhone and play his crazy animal and dragon apps.  So we walked, and walked, and walked, a total of 6.5 miles and a trip to the local library, grocery store and IHOP, because half way through the walk (we still had to return home) the kids were starved.

The whole time, the littlest, Aidan, complained every ten feet that his ankle was broken.   He had to stop all the time and complain that his foot may fall off, mostly because he really didn't want to be walking...that is, until we arrive at the playground, where he was miraculously healed until we left again for the trek home.   Timmy and Maddie were real troopers and just kept going, and going, like the energizer bunny.

Photo Credit

It's been a while since I walked so much (add a little jogging hunting down Aidan with his 'broken ankle').  When I was 21, I had Timmy.  A little over 11 months later, I had Maddie.  6 months after Maddie, I somehow got it into my head that I wanted to get promoted in the Army and the PT test was ALL a mental game.  It's really not, you should practice.  Anyhow, shortly before my promotion (I had to go to a school, then called Primary Leadership Development Course, PLDC,  now called Warrior Leaders Course, WLC), my grandfather died.  I was close to him after nursing him quite a lot at 15-18 until I joined the Army, after backpacking around Europe with my sister and cousin--tha'ts another story. 

This is me, glacier climbing in the Alps.  We didn't just backpack, we filled days with cool things like canyoning, drinking local beers, glacier climbing, drinking local beers, visiting cathedrals, drinking local beers, and walking on cobblestones in 3-4 inch heels.  Awesome.  And, once in a while we splurged for a local beer. Or five.  Or we carried a six pack in each of our backpacks for the train rides.

When I took the PT test, six months after Madison was born, I felt these god-awful pains in my legs.  I didn't finish the test, I ran about 1.5 miles and stopped, which is a no-no.  My supervisor had Matt (who was as always, cheering me on and trying to pace me to beat the time I needed to, always the fabulously encouraging hubby) take me to the ER, so they could find out if anything was wrong with me--so he didn't have to count the test as a failure.

It was the last PT test I would ever take. I didn't just have average shin splints as I thought, I had stress fractures from hip to toe. Literally, the doctors all came in as a team and told me, had I run a mere 100 yards more, I would have shattered both legs, as it was, I would never run again. I would not even be allowed to do the 'walk' PT test, I would only be allowed to swim.  My career was over in the Army--although I was in for another two years.

Flash forward to the walk with Aidan's broken foot. After the walk, my legs cramped up a bit.  I figured I just needed to work it out.  So I went to training yesterday.

Oh sweet Jesus, so much pain.  I did the hour with Average Joe, in constant pain, and then took an hour off to do the elliptical, refreshed.   The leg day had me moving like I was 90, it took 33 minutes on the elliptical for my legs to 'loosen up' so I could bare to get through the measly 5 miles and 60 minutes. 

That's a 12.5 minute mile in case you're counting.

I went home and got in the bath -- I couldn't bear to stand up for the shower. 

Suddenly, as I lay in bed, both legs elevated, I have been in this position before, about 11 years ago.  Shin splints, ripping apart my muscles and slapping against my bones, causing minor stress fractures.

Photo Credit

Sure, I can tape my legs and fight through, but I have already been down this road. But, instead, I will talk to Average Joe and get his recommendation as to how to work out to keep up my momentum but not further damage my legs.   That's all I need, right?  To be 3,000 miles away from my husband in full leg casts with three kids to try and chase after.   Good God, I hope his compassionate reassignment comes through, so I have someone at home who knows how to ice me up...and more so I can have the momentum kept up, so I don't stress out as easily.

Back to "Downton Abbey" and insults that have class.

<3 Maggie

How to eat, or, a rude awakening.

I admit it, I am bad about eating.  I used to love big breakfasts, either homemade, or eaten out.  Loved it all, something nice about just relaxing and having all those wonderful things you can have at breakfast time.  The problem is, I have always had this little oddity, wherein I can't have the sweets, unless I have the protein, or am willing to have my family put up with me being a sugar induced basket case.

Enter my love of eggs.  The perfect cheap food to counterbalance my love of sweet breakfast.  Then, at about 24 or 25 (after kid number 3 is born) enter my blasted sensitivity to eggs.  I refuse to admit an allergy, because the egg issue just doesn't react the same way as other allergic reactions for me.  Blasted hell, now I can't eat the eggs to counteract the sweets, leaving out the sweets also.  Oatmeal it is.  Which I do love.  Also love yogurt, especially of the Greek variety, and it's a great protein source.

The trouble is, after so many years of eating big breakfasts, I find myself mentally challenged in eating breakfast at all, now that all I can have is the 'healthy' stuff. I know it's sad. 

Then began the work-outs, and yes I would have to work at eating breakfast, and mid-morning snack, and lunch, and mid-afternoon snack, and so on and so on.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I have been so terrible about the eating, it's not so much about freaking out about the diet change, it's actually eating.  I honestly do forget, after years of training myself to subsist until starvation mode on caffeine.   Triple, grande caramel macchiato, non-fat milk, 120 degrees, stirred.  You know so I don't have to think, but can just gulp away.

Realization hit, regarding the error of my ways, as I tried to sit down yesterday afternoon.  I had worked out hard on Monday, per my sadistic trainer, but it was now Wednesday, why am I still in pain.

Well, let's see...you barely ate Monday, you barely ate Tuesday, and It's Wednesday afternoon and all you have to show for it is ONE Greek Yogurt?  And shortly after the realization, ONE Tuna sandwich?  Nice.  Maggie you are a moron, you ware working out to the tune of about 400-700 calories a day, and that's just in the gym.  And you think you can get away with you crappy forgetting to eat lifestyle?  No wonder you are still in pain, your body is probably eating it's own muscles.

So, I did what any tech savy, responsible adult would do:  I got on app center on the iphone and searched calorie counter. 

Photo Credit for My Fitness Pal Screenshot

I started playing with it, putting in what I had eaten, drank, and the exercise I had done that day.  My results:  You will be skinny as hell, and well, dead, in 5 weeks if every day is like today.

So, I hunted up a high protein snack bar from my crazy pre-workout purchase the other day.   And ate it and added to the listing.  STILL 900 calories short of a really low caloric intake number.  Awesome.  So, salad for dinner, with chicken. Still 450 calories short.  Alright, damnit, add some frickin cookies--only trouble is, I only have "Newton's Fruit Thins," which are strangely low in calories and kinda okay for you as cookies go.  Add three.  Still under.  Add five.  Only 200 calories under, I guess that will do, tomorrow will be better, right?

Photo Credit

It's 135 pm here, and I am about to break the rules and chow on a powerbar--since it's right next to my desk and all.  That leaves me with 1125 calories remaining for the day -- and the insanely low caloric count, which really needs to be raised by about 500 calories considering my activity level during the day--outside of the gym.

I seriously have got to get this breakfast crap under control.  I think I will bake some muffins tonight and pray all night long the kids don't slather them with chocolate frosting and eat them as cupcakes.

Any ideas?

Post-Donut Lunch

Spinach salad with mushroom, red pepper, and feta, and tomato soup that is blazing hot because I forgot that I put it on the stove.  My attention span is that short.  Curse my son for bringing home fresh hot maple glazed donuts this morning!!!!

--Betsy

Re-evaluating Goals, Or, Upping the Ante

 You know when you go to the doctor because you are sick, or more likely with someone like me, you did something stupid and hurt yourself?  They ask you to rate your pain on a scale to one to ten, or, if you're a kid they ask you to point to the degree of sad face you are.

11.  Or, more accurately, 11-million.

Average Joe and I had a conversation on friday-ish about changing my goals--because as you remember I was supposed to sleep well, and well, not jiggle so much.

What I didn't realize is that he would, in fact, take that conversation to heart, and go medieval on my ass today.  And I mean that seriously -- he went medieval...on...my ass.

 It was a leg day, after all.

By the time he had finished, I could barely walk--even after interrupting the work-out to tell him I had an interview tomorrow and would therefore be wearing heels.  How bad you ask?

Photo Credit

A bit scary considering my legs are now jello, but it's all about appearances in interviews, and in my line of work. Don't worry there are some tasteful slacks that cover much of those cuties, and mine are leather, not suede.   I do, after all, live in Washington, where it rains 9 months out of the year.  Not really--but I like that line from "Sleepless in Seattle."

"Oh," he said, thoughtfully, as I explained I would need to walk tomorrow.  "Well, I guess you're kinda screwed.  Keep going, you have 8 more squats to do, and that last one didn't count since you could talk."

We actually had a philosophical discussion about how many levels of hell there are, mid- lunges.  He insisted on 7, but I went with "Dante's Inferno," and he made me keep working because he said if there are 9, I have to work harder to get down there.

It's icy down there.  And, for traitors, damn it.

Awesome.

I finished the weights with him, but we had planned on doing the weigh in and body fat crap so we could clearly define, in numeric terms, my goals.  His goals, let's be honest.

Well, alright, I am just going to have to kill myself to do 45 minutes on the elliptical.  But, I guess, since I am already dead, I can do it.

"You owe me an hour on the elliptical.  An hour every day from here on out."

What was that?  Are you kidding me?  He must have read it on my face.

"I am not kidding -- and no breaking it up, an hour at once.  If you stop to pee part way through, you start again at zero."

Can't I just get the surgery?

Half In The Bag

And the scale says:  same as yesterday!

Last night after my cookie binge and minimalistic dinner I decided to do 40 min on the elliptical (in my home, yo) and then some crunches and some arm weight move thingies.  Thank goodness the Big Bang Theory is on from 7 to 8pm on Fox so that I wasn't counting the seconds to the next minute on the elliptical.

When it was time for crunches I thought I was going to do all right.  When I was in my 20s (which wasn't THAT long ago) I used to do 100 in the morning and 100 before bed every single day.  I had rocking abs.  The kind that actually felt like they were made of rocks.



But last night I got to 10 and thought I had pulled something.  So I stretched and started again.  Went ok until I got to 8.  Hmmm guess its been awhile since I have used those muscles!!  I managed to do 50 total in all different positions.  I did the reverse crunch that Jillian Michaels says will get rid of that pesky fupa fat, and the oblique crunches that should shave some chub off my sides, and then the traditional ones that make me want to die.

I decided I was not going to eat anything after, that I had already eaten enough for the day, and brushed my teeth and got in bed (after showering also of course).  By 10:00 I was DYING for food.  I kept drinking water but it just wasn't cutting it.  "I wish I had a big bag of M&M's" I said to my husband, batting my eyes.  "Hannaford's is closed" are what his eyes were telling me.  Dangit.  I searched my nightstand for any morsel I might have hidden and forgotten about.  Nope.  Going to bed hungry.

Today I woke up late, didn't eat breakfast, and then went to my friend's house and drank two giant coffees with creamer that I didn't measure!  Did you know they make coffee creamer flavored like candy bars now?  GENIUS!!  Then I had some tasty wrap with cheese, turkey, carrot shavings, and honey mustard.  Oh, and before I went to her house I stopped at the grocery store and bought...........A GIANT BAG OF M&MS!!  Which I have been slowly sucking on all day long.  Probably ate about half of the bag by now.   I'm hoping that if I eat them slowly that they won't affect my metabolism.  Maybe I should ask Dr Oz about that one.

After having 1 taco for dinner with some full fatty sour cream I figured I better get on that elliptical again.  20 minutes this time due to this horrible crack in my dried up heel and about 15 situps due to my dried up abs!!

 Off to drink my matcha sensa ass tea now in hopeless hope of compensation.  Can't WAIT to see what the scale says tomorrow.

<3 Betsy

Balance, Balance, Balance

I should really be writing these in sequential order -- but, as I started a week after I 'started', oh well.

I used to run, and I use the term 'used to' very loosely.  I got out of the Army about ten years ago -- exactly ten this summer, wow has it been that long?  Good grief.  Let's see, six years in, ten years out, add 18 to that, yup, 34, so the math is correct.  But, I digress.

Exactly ten years ago, I wasn't doing much Physical Training. Lemme see, it's almost March as I write this, so ten years ago I was about a million months pregnant, with Aidan...who will be, you guessed it, ten in early May.

Back up a few years from that--before Timmy, so keep going. I used to work out hard in the Army.  I mean four or five days a week of mandatory running, push ups, sit-ups and any other medieval exercise the Army can come up with. Never, well maybe rarely, did I leave PT (Physical Training) dripping wet in sweat, and not even wanting to be near myself.

Move forward that decade plus I just mentioned, and enter Average Joe trainer.

He has me working out 6 days a week.  Four of those days I do at least 45 minutes of heavy cardio on the elliptical machine.  And when I say heavy, I mean heavy.  A cross between 45 straight minutes on high resistance, burning my thighs and ass the whole time -- of for a change up, that blasted interval training for the full 45 minutes. Two other days of the week, he ALSO has me do one-hour of intensive weight training.  I hurt just thinking about it.

Granted, even on the light days -- the cardio only days -- I leave knowing I have burned just under 400 calories ... on a bad day.

400 calories, that's about this:

Photo Credit

Mmmm, yellow cake with chocolate frosting. It will be the death of me. I love it so, and look at this baby, not just yellow cake with chocolate frosting--but TEN layer yellow cake with chocolate frosting.  And just for good measure, Strawberries, you know in case you didn't get enough sugar.  It's like buying the farm and going to heaven.   On the farm.  Which clearly grows strawberries and wheat for the cake. And probably has other things like sugar cane for the frosting.

Or maybe it's just a farm with a pastry chef. Count me in.

That is what I think about starting at about minute 23 on the elliptical.  While listening to Adele belt out songs.  Yeah, I will set fire to the rain while eating that.

Which brings me to my next point.

The other day I am dripping with sweat on about minute 38 of the elliptical. Yes I count those minutes.  Average Joe trainer walks, or mozies, or sashes over and gets on the elliptical next to mine, where I am panting, sweating, nearly done, and STARVED.

He looks at me like, "I want to talk," and I politely take off my earbuds--which are probably blasting some U2 song and say "hi."

"If" he says, deep in thought, "you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

Well, we're about 15 minutes (at least) into my fantasy about pumping yellow cake with chocolate frosting directly into my bloodstream, so yeah, this is a no brainer.  Even though I do honestly know it's a terrible, terrible trap.

Photo Credit

Yeah, it's a trap, just like that.  But, as almost 40 minutes of dripping sweat have passed, I am going ahead with 'the truth.'

"I want a yellow cake with chocolate frosting.  Not a piece, the whole cake."  (Remember that previous post about my daughter's mad baking skills?  Yeah, that's what I am up against here.)

"Ah," he says, "I see." He is now looking out into the distance (there is a fat chick in front of us) wistfully, like he is trapped deep in thought...deep thought like he may have just figured out the meaning of life, the universe and everything.

Photo credit

After a brief pause, and I am not sure if he actually got to the number 42, he says: "If you have one bite, I will have you doing puke drills all week long."

Three minutes to go on the elliptical, as he get's down and goes about his business and now I have to choose a new song to push through with.

The Clash. Should I stay, or should I go.

Easy enough.

It's the diet that's killing me

Sure, sure, Average Joe works me out to death whenever we have a training session.  I often can't lift my arms or legs depending upon which type of 1-hour weight training he has concocted for me. This should be enough, right?

Let's go back to goals.  My goal: sleep better at night.

After about day 2 of training and working out on my own, goal met. I have not slept this well in years.   But let's look at this more closely. 
1) I have worked out pretty hard off and on throughout my adult life. A few months here, a few months there with long stretches between of not working out.
2) I have tried over the counter sleeping medicine, thinking that if I just got that good night's sleep, I could easily start my shape-up "tomorrow". 
3) I have never dieted in my life.   I have never been on a diet, I have not owned a scale for years--like over a dozen years.  The only time I know what I weigh is when I go into the doctors office, and even then, I look away.

So, day one with training, Average Joe weighs me and takes my body fat index or whatever it is.  I look away.  I still do not know what it is, honestly--my goal is to sleep, have more energy and gain maybe just the teensiest little focus on what I do during the day.  (Hint, this blog is not it, at all)

Then he goes over my "diet."  Diet?  What's a frickin diet?  How does one diet?  Well, I guess it's not really a diet --there are a few things out, but generally, it's a shift in how I eat, i.e., I have to eat breakfast and second breakfast.  And no sugar crap after noon.   That's the kicker.  You don't think of fruit as sugar.  Generally when I want to lose weight or slim a little, it's fruit for dessert.

Okay, makes no logical sense to me.  But he explains during our workout, the sugars and no pastas and stuff like that in the afternoons and evenings are about sleep.   I am desperate, I will try it.

So that night and every night after for the last two weeks, its no sugars (not even fruit, that's a morning only thing) in the afternoon and evenings.  Good god it's hard.  I am constantly battling myself, especially since I taught my daughter how to bake over the last couple of years.  Little lady has a knack for fancy schmancy desserts.   And carb-laden breakfasts.  And, good god can she make some mac n cheese.  Mmm, mac n cheese, I miss you so.

And it makes the WHOLE HOUSE smell like fancy schmancy desserts, after I eat my protein and veggies.

Good god how long can this go on?  But again, I DO sleep better at night, and better than I did when I worked out hard before and DIDN'T stop eating those things at night.   So maybe Average Joe has something?

Time will tell.  And tomorrow is the first weigh in again -- to check those blasted numbers. 

Fat Tuesday. And Wednesday. And probably Thursday.

Yesterday I decide to stand on the scale in my birthday suit right off in the morning before I had a chance to drop 2 coffees, a heaping bowl of maypo with chocolate chips, and whatever else came up (went down).

For the first time in a while I stepped OFF the scale smiling.  Finally at the lowest weight I've been since 2007!  Not sure how I did that.  Certainly wasn't through exercising.

So of course what is the first thing that I do with this new found skinniness?  I eat my maypo, go for a joy ride, and end up drinking a huge cup of coffee with lots of creamer and probably a hot chocolate in it. I then washed that down with a medium sized Shamrock Shake from good ol' McDongles.  Is it mint?  All I know is its green. Anyway that's 550 calories (or more) of whatever that flavor is goodness!  Don't worry, I skipped the cherry.

I felt I needed some salt also so I had a small fry.  Only what, 250 calories?  So in the span of 3 hours of finding out that I was finally only 3 or 4 pounds away from my goal weight I managed to consume around 1,000 calories!  When I got home and then felt I should eat something nutritious I had a bowl of carrot sticks with hummus.  And 2 packs of chocolate covered pomegranite thingies (100 calories each pack).  So we're up to probably 1,300 and its not even 2:00.  I'm sure I'm forgetting some snack in there somewhere.  When my husband came home asking what was for dinner I told him that I had been bingeing on fatty high calorie crap all day and that he was on his own unless he wanted to join me for a Chobani and glass of water.  

OH yeah I drank a cup of that nasty ass matcha sensa tea.  I seriously wanted to puke it right back up (the tea, not the food.) but forced myself to finish it.  Here's hoping it "ramped up my metabolism by at least 30%" DR OZ!!!  I need every percent I can get with this sweet tooth!   By 9:30pm I was nibbling on Dollar General pita chips and more hummus.  I really do not know how to feed myself, can you tell?

Today started out good but then nose dived around 1:30.  I got on the scale again to see if my deeds had done me in, but no the scale said the same happy weight as yesterday.  I vowed to keep my intake down to something around human instead of polar bear and went on doing as much housework as possible to keep my hands busy.

Then lunch time hit.  I hate that we have to eat!  If I didn't HAVE to eat I might like it more.  I hate thinking of things to eat too.  Lunch!  Bah Humbug!!!

I thought, I'll eat healthy and have some Progresso Chicken soup (80 calories) and a small bowl of tricolor pasta with "smart" butter and parmesan cheese.  Problem was, it was after 1:00 and I had last eaten at 7:30am!  All that housework had made me darn hungry!

My hands shook as I filled the pan with water for the pasta.  First I had to wait for the water to boil, and then another 10 minutes for it to cook!  That seemed like it was an hour away.  Frantically I searched the cupboards for a "snack" to hold me over.  Completely out of carrot sticks.  CRAP.  I opened the freezer and there, like a rose among dandelions, was a forgotten bag of frozen Neuman-o's.  Mint ones.

6 or 7 Neuman-o's later my pasta was done.  I looked at it, then looked at the Neuman-o's, and really wanted to just finish off the bag and say to hell with lunch.  But no, I put them back in the freezer and proceeded to eat my lunch.  That was 2 hours ago and I still have my jeans unbuttoned.  Looks like I'm skipping real dinner again tonight and stopping at the grocery store to stock up on carrot sticks.  I'm a little scared of what tomorrow will bring!  And now I am off to bring Alicia to ballet school and be surrounded by girls who really CAN control themselves. Yippee!

--Betsy