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Saturday, August 29, 2009

Cat on the Treadmill

They're nimble, they're quick, but apparently they're not as smart as we once thought.

My cats each seem to need to figure out on their own, that treadmills have a tendency to shoot an unsuspecting feline across the room when the lady of the house is pounding away on the machine.

While otherwise fine, our boy cat's ego is probably a little damaged. Some good snuggling later ought to cure what ails him.

I, on the other hand, am elated :) I spent about 40 minutes sweating on my electric dust collector, and used a broad range of speeds and inclines to keep up to the beat of one of my old Cranberries albums. I saw my heart rate reach 163 at one point! The readout declared that I burned about 300 calories, which is about twice what I ate for breakfast, so I burned 140 calories of pure fat!!

My first goal is to see 190 on my scale by the end of September, and I am now at least a small fraction of the way there.

Friday, August 28, 2009

My New Head-Band


A special friend of mine is starting a new chapter in her life as she has a Lap-Band installed today (applied, placed, inserted?). "Installed" sounds like she's getting a new kitchen sink put in, but that's the best word I can dig out of my sugar-binge-recovering brain.


SO, not to be outdone, I'm counting today as my first with my new "headband". The Band for my brain. I need a procedure, but the Lap Band isn't an option for me, so this here Yoga Band will have to suffice.


What will my Band do? Remind me that I need to avoid complacency. I need to exercise. I need to re-read the most inspiring advice that makes so much sense when I don't have a Double Stuff Oreo in my clutches.


I'm not starting over. I am done doing that. Plus, I haven't re-gained more than a few pounds, so I will consider the last few binge-eating days as a wake-up call. WAKE UP!!!!


I have also decided that it is not as much fun to lose at a snail's pace. I am setting 10 pound per month goals for myself, and I will be darned if I don't keep them. It can be done; it's been done before by others, and if I have to drag myself onto my treadmill multiple times in one day, I will not sit at this same stupid weight any longer.


With this new resolve in place, I see that being at my goal weight is possible by next swim season, and I will be in that pool, in a new suit, enjoying the water and sun with my kids. I am done sitting on the side (of the pool, of life...). It's time to jump back in, and I'm heading there with my eyes wide open, head(banded)-first.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Flirting with the Arby's Guy

I love my husband and wouldn't knowingly flirt with any other guy, but I fear I sent the wrong message to the young lad manning the drive-thru window at Arby's last night.

I have been BAD the last few days with fast food. I normally avoid the stuff, unless it's a salad. At least the last several months I have, but I had a hankering (for what, I guess I wasn't quite sure), so I popped on a tee shirt and pants, and left on a late evening trip alone for some fat crack.

I really wanted a milk shake from Chick Fil A, but they're good little worshipers and close on Sunday. While I find this heartwarming and wonderful, it really put a wrench in my craving-works, so I settled for a sandwich from Arby's. I don't quite get why my brain thought a roast beef sandwich would be a good substitute for a strawberry milkshake either.

In my lightening fast departure from home, I didn't bother with a bra. It was dark, who'd be looking, right? But then, the bright lights of the upcoming Arby's window spooked me a bit, and I quickly swung my hair, which is quite long right now, over the front of my shoulders on either side to cover my sagging, nipply self. Then I checked my work in the mirror. Then I checked the guy in the window, who was checking me out while I appeared to primp. For him. Uggh.

I grabbed my bag, sure the guy could see up the short sleeve of my shirt, through to my bare left breast, and smiled graciously. Please don't look at my boob, please! But my smile was probably not taken for the pleading for which it was designed, and instead for more flirtation. I sped off in my mini-van, realizing moments later, that I probably looked like I was trying to impress the guy with my mad driving skills and wheels to accompany them.

Humiliated, I grabbed for a bite of my sandwich. Though tasty, it was not a milkshake. So I turned toward the Dairy Queen on the other side of the intersection. But right next door is a McDonald's. They have shakes. I hate McDonald's about as much as I despise Walmart, but I didn't want a stiff shake with a spoon stuck in it; does DQ have shakes? So I swung over to McD's and added chocolate chip cookies to my small vanilla milkshake order. You try to say, "Triple Thick Shake" three times fast.

The cookies were okay, but that shake was a sorry excuse for what I really wanted. So did I drive home, conquered? No. I drove over to Dunkin Donuts. On the way, I decided I really wanted something bubbly. Root beer would have to stand in for Dr. Pepper (my fave) because it was late, and I don't need caffeine helping my thoughts keep me awake at night, so I scanned the drive thru menu. I asked the lady if they had Root Beer. She listed everything off, and Pepsi products were all they had, so I passed, and settled for two glazed donuts.

I munched on my sandwich and cookies, and didn't swallow in time. The Dunkin Donuts lady caught me with food in my mouth while I was there buying more food. At least she didn't think I had a crush on her, right?

I spotted Starbucks as I pulled away from Dunkin Donuts, and drove there, in search of my soda (which could solve the milkshake dilemma) and was politely informed by the girl in that drive thru, that they don't have fountain drinks. Well hmff.

Not to despair, I looked left, and noticed the new Hardee's was open for business, and surely they'd have a soda for me! I drove to the menu and on the window before me was an ad for Bacon Ranch Fries. OOOOH! Did a fast food chain finally realize that we all want Outback's cheese fries right in the convenience of our cars? Bra-less fries, for me!

I ordered some of the fries, and saw they also offered Root Beer. My lucky night! I pulled around, paid and took my food, and sucked down the first sip of my root beer. It was horribly under-syrupped. Ick. I'm not usually a complainer, but the stuff looked pale. I pulled back around, and let them know my problem. They happily offered to replace my drink. I opted for the Dr. Pepper after all; sleep could wait.

On my leisurely drive back home, I ate the rest of the three cookies, took a few bites of a stale donut, drank 4 or 5 sips of the shake, finished the sandwich, and drank half of my Dr. Pepper. The fries were a disappointment akin to receiving new underwear for Chirstmas instead of a toy. Think bacon bits scattered on fries coated with dripping, hot, ranch dressing.

The victory? I didn't use this crazy waste of time, calories, and money as an excuse to run out, first thing this morning for the real thing at Chick Fil A. That'll have to wait until I can justify the expense of 700 calories in my daily budget.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Wee Little Lie


So I don't really have 100 pounds to go until I reach my goal (thank the Lord), but I did back in February. On my 5' 3 1/2" frame, 220 pounds do not look pretty. They don't feel pretty either, and I'm not putting up with it anymore! I've been making this up as I go, but I've been doing something right, because I don't have 100 pounds to lose anymore.




I only have 77. Ugh.




But, I am forever an optimist, and I'm loaded with determination, so if it takes me a decade, I will do it. But more importantly, I will maintain the loss. If/when I post pics, they'll be doctored. I won't airbrush away fat rolls and hail damage, but I will probably chop off my head. I know too many people who do not need to know the intimate details of my life, so anonymity is going to be the name of my game. I may even get really paranoid, and take pictures in a dressing room of myself in clothes I don't own, so my wardrobe won't give me away. Maybe I'll have some big fun, and try on really hideous clothes just to lighten the mood until I get down to my goal weight and can really have some fun in a dressing room.




In the mean while, this mom of three young kids, with some big weight to lose, is going to throw the rest of the brownies away so she can make some headway this month.