tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80235030512422632192024-03-13T12:44:22.636-07:00CCC's Journey to Less of MeBorn at 10.7 pounds, I was overweight from the start. I went from chubby baby to chunky girl to overweight woman...needless to say, fat gets a lot less cuter as you get older. I'm tired of carrying around the extra weight and now I'm on a mission to discover a world where food isn't scary and shopping for clothes doesn't make me cry.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-38982412489944285022012-01-20T23:12:00.000-08:002012-01-20T23:14:15.373-08:00Does this thing still work?Yeah, I know. I abandoned ship. A long time ago.<br />
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But get this...I'm still trying to lose weight. All while trying to adjust to my new role as mom. And that means, a new blog.<br />
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Swing by. Say hello. I promise, for the most part, I'm still me.<br />
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You can find my new online home at <a href="http://diaperswipesshoesandwine.blogspot.com/">Diaper, Wipes, Shoes & Wine</a>.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-70334288745202841702009-01-04T10:05:00.001-08:002009-01-04T10:21:25.617-08:00Looking back...and forward.So 2008 is over. It's a natural time for reflection. For introspection. For seeing what positive steps I took over the course of the past year.<br /><br />I'm not one of those New Year's resolution types. I don't believe in them and think most of the time, they just set you up to fail...and then feel miserable about it. But I certainly don't mind taking a step back at the end of every year and looking back at how my life changed over the course of 12 months.<br /><br />Some years, there are remarkable moments to reflect on...like the year I married Mr. CCC. Or how we bought our first house. The year I got my first real writing job. The year I lost more weight than I gained.<br /><br />Looking back at 2008 I see...12 months with some significant changes here and there...Mr. CCC and I welcomed a niece (whom I adore!) into our family. My company may be struggling, but I'm doing some of the best work of my career, personally. Mr. CCC has come into his own at work too. I started volunteering at a local animal shelter--something I'd been wanting to do for years. I began training with Ms. A--and while I haven't seen the progress I would have liked totally, I know my body is stronger than it was a year ago. Overall, I'd say Mr. CCC and I are growing up---and slowly accepting that whole "we're adults now!" thing...<br /><br />But my weight? Pretty much stayed the same.<br /><br />Over the holidays, I beat myself up over that for quite a while. We posed for pictures on our New Year's cruise and in looking at them, I felt my heart break. Sometimes I've been able to fool myself into thinking I looked okay--with flattering clothes and great hair days. But cameras don't lie. And those pictures showed me I was still far heavier than I should be.<br /><br />It wasn't exactly a new realization. Before the holidays, I went completely bananas and re-joined Weight Watchers for approximately the 325th time. Only a crazy person would join WW during the holidays but I figured if I could just get through the holidays by staying the same weight, I'd be ahead of the curve once New Year's passed.<br /><br />Tomorrow, I'll head back to my meeting. I'll see if I met that goal. I'll also be back in the gym with Ms. A (Thanks to some sessions from Mr. CCC and my mom as Christmas gifts, yay!) and there will be no more looking backwards.<br /><br />Sure, maybe 2008 didn't help me reach all the health goals I would have liked. But it taught me plenty and now it's time to move forward...*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-54829360370692317542008-09-23T17:05:00.000-07:002008-09-23T17:51:31.413-07:00Reason #210,504,875,999 I relate to Biggest LoserSince discovering NBC's Biggest Loser a few years ago, I have been hooked. It's motivation t.v. People bigger than me, in worse shape than me, literally working their butts off and reaching their goals. Even though yes, it's not the most realistic way to lose weight (Um, I've never lost 10 pounds in one week!), it's proof of how hard work and good eating can get you where you want to be.<br /><br />But before I hired Ms. A, I always cocked my head sideways when I saw the contestants weep at the thought of losing Bob or Jillian and having to work out on their own. I'd tell myself, "But you've already learned what you need to do! Just GO DO IT!"<br /><br />Well, I am now officially off my sassy horse. Because guess what...the past six weeks without Ms. A have been a disaster.<br /><br />I didn't eat well. I didn't exercise as much as I should have. The endorphin kick that made me energized and happy completely evaporated. I became the person I was before I trained with her--nervous, scared and miserable.<br /><br />So when she sent me a text message last week telling me her maternity leave was over, I was ecstatic. We set up an appointment and I had time to think. I admit--I was filled with dread. I knew when I walked back into the gym, Ms. A would make me pay for my six week hiatus.<br /><br />The thought was a little terrifying. And then it became empowering. In the time I worked with Ms. A, she challenged me like no one ever has. But she never let me hurt myself. She never let me fail. She never let me fall. She believed in me when I didn't believe in myself.<br /><br />So imagine my disappointment when I had to cancel my appointment with Ms. A this weekend. Why? I went and somehow ruptured a blood vessel in my eye--the day before we were to train. When I should have been in the gym, I was sitting in my optometrist's office making sure the redness in my eye was nothing serious. (Thank goodness, it's not.)<br /><br />I finally had my workout with Ms. A this morning. First off, can I just say the SIGHT of the woman is an inspiration? She had a baby six weeks ago--and looks amazing. I almost tripped over myself when I saw her. But when we started working out, all of my worst fears came true. I got dizzy and light-headed. I couldn't do some of the things I'd been doing just six weeks ago. So we modified.<br /><br />But the point was--I finished. I did what she asked me and while I crept out of the gym exhausted, I felt good for the first time in six weeks.<br /><br />So there you have it...I'm one of those "I worship at the altar of my personal trainer" people. And I absolutely love it.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-11183394731895959872008-08-25T15:52:00.000-07:002008-08-25T16:04:05.178-07:00Where did my good habits go?I know I've read the stat somewhere...that it takes 6-8 weeks (maybe more?) for a change in behavior to become a habit.<br /><br />Whether it's 6, 8, or even 52 weeks, I know that for well over a year--possibly even two years--I've been eating breakfast. Yet on my last hiatus, eating breakfast was one of the first healthy habits I dropped.<br /><br />Getting back into it has been tough. (Example: today's breakfast was a cup of skim milk and a 100-calorie Lorna Doone packet). As much as I love food, I am just not into breakfast. Eggs, toast, pancakes, yogurt...none of them appeal to me. When I was training regularly with Ms. A, I had to have breakfast. There was no way around it. If I didn't eat, I was going to pass out from the tough workouts she put me through.<br /><br />So without her, both my workouts and runs to the breakfast table have been shamefully diminished. The good news is I'm tackling this breakfast thing head on this week. Goal is to do better every day than Lorna Doones and milk.<br /><br />Even if that means low-fat PB & J sandwiches. (Hey, no one said breakfast actually had to BE breakfast, right?)*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-29652239216051513812008-08-19T17:21:00.000-07:002008-08-19T17:40:43.508-07:00Picking myself up and dusting myself off...One thing I've learned about myself over the past couple of months.<br /><br />I can talk a really good game. I can't always follow through.<br /><br />See my last post for proof. A month ago, I was telling myself to get back on track. To stop obsessing, to get myself going.<br /><br />Here I am, weeks later, still saying the same thing. Opening the cupboard and feeling embarrassed about all the junk I've bought (and yes, eaten). Standing on the scale and berating myself for not stopping the downslide sooner. (In the past two months, I have gained almost six pounds. Yes, two vacations were tossed into that mix--one to Europe and one to Las Vegas, but I've been home for a while. No reason not to start up with the healthy habits again!)<br /><br />Two years ago, I started trying to lose weight. The goal? Get myself in better shape and at a healthy weight to have a baby. I wanted to reach that before my 30th birthday.<br /><br />My 30th birthday was three weeks ago. And not only was I not at my goal weight, I had turned my back on my healthy habits.<br /><br />Despite all the positive, good things I was telling myself, I looked at the number on the scale and saw that no matter how much work I was putting in, it wasn't dropping. So I stopped putting the work in.<br /><br />And surprise, surprise. If you stop exercising and you start eating packets of raw cookie dough, your weight will creep up again.<br /><br />You don't get credit for the hard work you did in the past. Your body takes what you're doing in the present and runs with it.<br /><br />So, two months of no effort resulted in a few gained pounds. My new clothes looked snugger and snugger. The pretty sleeveless dress I bought for my 30th birthday--the one so many sizes smaller than what I was two years ago--was actually, GASP--tighter on the big day. (Note to self: Thank heavens for Spanx!)<br /><br />And yet even days after coming home from my 30th birthday trip, I couldn't make myself get back to the gym (It didn't help that Ms. A was on maternity leave and there was no one to push me.) I couldn't stop eating out. (And while eating out, I didn't exactly go for the healthy options.) I kept telling myself, "What's the point in working? The work wasn't paying off."<br /><br />And viola, a few pounds smacked me back to reality.<br /><br />Despite all the blogs I've written about not quitting, I did quit. I only thank heaven that I caught myself before a few pounds turned into 10 or 20, or God forbid, put me back at my starting weight.<br /><br />So it's back to the drawing board. Back to the workouts, back to the journaling, back to the healthy eating. And back to blogging. It keeps me accountable. It gives me an outlet. It reminds me I am not alone.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-88296982207230859592008-07-16T04:55:00.000-07:002008-07-16T05:58:12.936-07:00Mea culpa...A negligent blogger.<br /><br />I suppose I should change the title of my little internet pet project because yes, I understand, I have been away far, far too long.<br /><br />I could throw excuses on the pile...talk about the business trip that drained me of my energy, the month of May in which I worked hours upon hours, the overdue vacation that finally put my mind right. All have contributed to my extended absence.<br /><br />But the biggest truth is that I've been tired. Tired of obsessing about my weight. Tired of countless workouts and measured meals. Tired of feeling obligated to sit down and pour my heart out when, well, I wasn't sure exactly what I was feeling.<br /><br />The past month and a half has been a roller coaster, weight wise. I wouldn't be lying if I said it just wasn't one of my top priorities. Doing well at my job has become the newest obsession--particularly because my company announced they are laying off between 50-60 of us in my division.<br /><br />So yes, I've been working out with A. But I've inhaled more than a few balls of raw cookie dough. Yes, I've started volunteering at the local humane society (the one activity on my weekly calendar that truly relaxes me!), but I've had lunches out with my fellow volunteers when our shift ends.<br /><br />The number on the scale has stayed the same.<br /><br />This hasn't bothered me. I need to schedule more thyroid testing very soon, but my body has changed and I am finally starting to accept that itself is a sign of progress.<br /><br />I am getting more compliments on my weight loss from those who haven't seen me in a while. I am able to complete the progressively more challenging workouts A designs. A few weeks ago, I bought a sleeveless dress that is four sizes smaller than the size I was when I started my weight loss efforts.<br /><br />This has been enough for me, for now.<br /><br />Is it complacent? Maybe. Like I said, I'm tired of focusing so much energy on one part of my life. So I haven't blogged--because I haven't felt very inspiring or very strong.<br /><br />But just as I have for the past two years, I carry on. I keep trying to eat well, I keep trying to exercise. I don't berate myself for an occasional treat here and there. (For the record, our 10 days in Europe were filled with wienerschnitzel, chocolate and wine. And I do not feel bad about the .75 pound I gained while there).<br /><br />Maybe it's just taken two years to get to the point where I really have grasped the importance of moderation--not only in what I eat, but in how I view this part of my life.<br /><br />And for those of you that have checked in and asked how I was doing--who wondered about me--I truly appreciate it. Your encouragement made me smile and I promise--I'll try really, really hard not to disappear like that again.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-84854795148919013992008-05-01T19:03:00.000-07:002008-05-01T20:18:23.711-07:00Staring another road trip in the face...Since I started trying to lose weight about a year and a half ago, I've noticed there are times it's really hard to stick to my healthy eating plan.<br /><br />Holidays are tough. Birthdays are difficult. Weekends...some of them I've managed far better than others. But handling these has gotten easier and easier as I've moved forward.<br /><br />Business trips, however, continue challenging me.<br /><br />I don't know what it is...being away from home? A complete disruption of my routine? Is it all the eating out?<br /><br />Do I kind of associate a work trip with a vacation? (I admit--I am far less judicious about my eating while I'm on vacation. In the past year, I've been fortunate to go to places like Hawaii and Paris. I'm not going to deny myself real mai tais or authentic pain au chocolats in places like those!)<br /><br />Whatever it is--I start my work trips with the best of intentions. Last week's trip started with dinner at Longhorn...not so bad, I ordered grilled chicken with steamed veggies and rice. Lunch at Chick-Fil-A wasn't so bad either--grilled chicken sandwiches. But by my last night on the road, the idea of another grilled chicken breast made me want to pull my hair out.<br /><br />So what did I order at our last dinner out?<br /><br />A cheeseburger.<br /><br />(Before you bring out your diet tar and feathers, I'll say I gave all my french fries to a coworker, cut the giant burger in half and only ate half of it.)<br /><br />Overall--this last trip was an improvement over some of my past ones, but as I sit here, knowing that on Tuesday I'll be on the road again, I'm nervous. I don't want to give up one of my workouts with Ms. A. I don't want to want to eat the unhealthy food they have on-site. I don't want to squeeze workouts into whatever free time--if any--I have.<br /><br />The good news is that this is the last business trip I'll be dealing with until October. And I've switched to a hotel that has a little mini-kitchen so I can at least have some healthy snacks and my own breakfast on hand (instead of the waffles and biscuits they'll be serving downstairs!)<br /><br />It's not going to be the diet disaster other trips have been, but, I really can't wait until I'm home again and back to my routine--this time for a nice extended period of time.<br /><br />Seriously--I haven't spent two straight weeks at home in...err, almost two months!*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-30793982416669926732008-04-25T07:17:00.000-07:002008-04-25T07:43:34.110-07:00Moving at a snail's pace...I have to admit--my absence this week has had as much to do with my crazy work schedule (I'm sitting in yet another hotel room as I type this!) and my general 'bummed out-ness.'<br /><br />This week marked a month of training with Ms. A...after a disappointing showing on my scale at home, I decided to fess up to her that I didn't think much anything was happening. We sat down to do my measurements, measure my body fat percentage and see how much weight I'd lost according to her scale.<br /><br />Her scale showed a 3-pound loss (mine showed a 1-pound loss), I've lost just 1 1/4 total inches off my body and my body fat percentage was down 0.01.<br /><br />Progress? Yes, but I'm crawling along. And Ms. A wasn't happy. So we sat down and talked about my diet--it's not ideal yet, but still. She kept shaking her head and saying, "You should be losing more than this..."<br /><br />We came up with a few plans--cut down on rice and carbs and start making the switch from white, refined carbs to whole wheat. But she also said I should do something I've been putting off--go see my doctor.<br /><br />I've been dreading going to see my doctor for a while. Partly because I'm afraid hearing something is wrong. But my lack of weight-loss progress isn't the only thing going on. I haven't been feeling like myself lately. And as if some sort of divine intervention was going on, I got home and came across an article in <em>Self</em> about thyroid problems.<br /><br />I ran through the checklist of symptoms and noticed I had a few, including some not even limited to my weight loss problems. It kind of confirmed what I'd been fearing all along. And I understand thyroid issues aren't the end of the world, but it's hard to grasp something may be wrong with your body.<br /><br />Either way, I've schedule an appointment to go see my doctor. Unfortunately, she can't see me until mid-May, which gives me plenty of time to worry, plenty of stress. I'm trying not to, but it's getting so hard. So hard to deal with the fact I am working so hard and not seeing much progress. But as I've been writing for the past few months--what are my options?<br /><br />Quit and see my weight go back up? Throw away two years of hard work? I refuse to do that, even if right now, the only thing I want to do is kick a few walls in.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-2417659336741008472008-04-18T09:04:00.000-07:002008-04-18T09:26:28.205-07:00But it looked so healthy!As someone who's been dieting on and off for at least the past 10 years, I've started to consider myself somewhat of a pro when it comes to eating out...eating out is a way of life for me and when I'm really "in the zone" of eating well, I can go out to eat, pick the healthy stuff and truly enjoy the company.<br /><br />I know all the "danger" words to avoid on a menu. Anything that's described as "creamy," "cheesy," or "crispy" is usually very tasty--but very bad for you. "Grilled" and "steamed"--those are things that are going to work.<br /><br />So I felt pretty confident the other day when I made a run to Wendy's for lunch. I like the occasional Wendy's run--the chili is low-fat and pretty filling. Their grilled chicken sandwich is pretty good too (And I make it even better by getting it sans mayo and instead, putting some hot sauce on it. I'm a sucker for spicy!)...and that's what I intended to get when I pulled up to the drive-thru.<br /><br />Until I saw the new Wendy's Go-Wraps on the menu board. Okay, I knew the fried and homestyle one were out the window. But the grilled one didn't look so bad. Especially, since in trying to analyze the picture, I saw it had little orange sticks mixed in with the lettuce. Carrots? YUM!<br /><br />I ordered it, instead of my normal grilled chicken sandwich, and was happy as could be.<br /><br />Until I got back to my office and opened the wrapper...those orange sticks I thought were carrots? Nope, gooey, <em>yellow</em> melted cheese. (In all seriousness, I'm not kidding. I really did think it was carrots--the kind that gets added in pre-packaged salads). Making it worse, it was slathered in ranch dressing.<br /><br />I looked up the nutritional damage...260 calories, 11 grams of fat...for what's supposed to be an "add-on" item? (Cause let's be honest--I didn't think it was big enough to be a meal.) Eep! I peeled the cheese off, tried to scrape as much dressing off as possible, trashed the flour tortilla and ate the chicken breast and my chili. Needless to say, I was predictably hungry later.<br /><br />I know now I should have gone with my usual--something I knew the nutritional stats for going in--but I got sidetracked. By something I thought was healthy and later learned wasn't.<br /><br />I absolutely hate when that happens. When you <em>think</em> something's good for you only to learn later it's not? This has happened to me on certain occasions too--restaurant salads fall into this category and it's maddening.<br /><br />It wasn't a diet disaster moment, but just one of those reminders that you really do need to be careful when you eat out--no matter how much you think you know about a menu or what you're eating. Looks can be very, very deceiving!*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-18389077638982914382008-04-11T09:33:00.000-07:002008-04-11T10:24:40.474-07:00I want to be Chloe Marshall!<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8zwRj69T77E/R_-ey8xqJCI/AAAAAAAAACE/1SDrgJj0Z7o/s1600-h/ChloeMarshall.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188039893899158562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8zwRj69T77E/R_-ey8xqJCI/AAAAAAAAACE/1SDrgJj0Z7o/s320/ChloeMarshall.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Like most women who are battling their weight, I've found myself at odds on plenty of occasions with beauty pageants, fashion magazines, the fashion industry and the like.<br /><br /><br /><div>As I've gotten older, while yes, I'm unhappy with my size, I've gained some respect and appreciation for my body and all that it does. But there are still moments when self-loathing creeps in because I can't find a nice dress or because no one makes a nice bathing suit for someone my size. </div><br /><br /><div>So imagine my delight when I came across an article about Chloe Marshall, a 17-year old beauty queen from England. Before you roll your eyes, take a look at Ms. Marshall...hardly your typical beauty queen. </div><br /><br /><div>She ain't tiny and she ain't blonde. If you look, you'll see--get ready for this--breasts. And curves. And arms bigger than toothpicks. </div><br /><br /><div>I'm sure you're stunned. I know I was. She's pretty, she's curvy and she thinks her body is fine just the way it is. And she hopes her entry into the Miss England pageant will show more young women that it's okay to be a normal size.</div><br /><br /><div>Hooray for self-esteem!<br /></div><br /><br /><div>Of course, once I discovered Chloe's story, I was intrigued to read more. So I googled her name and came up with several hundred blog posts, stories and comments about her. Ouch. <em>Daily Mail</em> columnist Monica Grenfell wrote a scathing editorial on why Chloe Marshall shouldn't win the Miss England pageant. </div><br /><br /><div>Here's a little gem from Ms. Grenfell's piece:<br /></div><br /><br /><div><em>"Who on earth does she think she's kidding? What she's demonstrating isn't bravery but a shocking lack of self-control. </em></div><br /><br /><div><em>Instead of flaunting her figure, Chloe ought to own up to the truth. She is fat and she got that way by over-eating. </div></em><br /><br /><div><em>I don't take any pleasure in attacking Chloe - after all she's only 17. But I think she has been very badly advised in her bid to champion the cause of bigger girls.</em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>In my view, Chloe is a terrible role model. </em><br /></div><br /><div><em>I hope she doesn't win the Miss England title.<br /></div></em><br /><br /><div><em>It would send an appalling - and very dangerous - message to other young women that it's OK to be fat." </em></div><br /><br /><div>Really, Ms. Grenfell? You don't take any pleasure in attacking a normal-sized, hard-working girl who's set out to do nothing but be a positive role model? Sounds like there is just a touch of sanctimonious, self-righteous hatred going on here. </div><br /><br /><div>You read Ms. Grenfall's piece and think Chloe must be at least 450 pounds, rolling herself down the aisle and smooshing herself into an inappropriately-sized bikini. </div><br /><br /><div>Turns out fatty Chloe Marshall is 5-foot-10, 176 pounds. </div><br /><br /><div>Type that into the National Institute of Health BMI calculator and you get a reading of 25.3. The normal weight range is 18.5-24.9. </div><br /><br /><div>Yes, Chloe's 25.3 is over the "normal" limit but c'mon...</div><br /><br /><div><em>"A poster girl for diabetes, strokes, heart attacks, cancers and all the other devastating and potentially fatal health problems that are caused or exacerbated by obesity."</em></div><br /><br /><div>Hardly.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>A little more research brought me to the fact that Ms. Grenfell is a health and diet "expert"--who just released her new book, "Crash Diet"--A book that teaches you to lose 7 pounds in 7 Days...</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Ha! Methinks I'll take diet and health tips from the beauty queen, just this once. Go for it, Chloe! Here's to hoping she brings home the crown!</div><br /><br /><div></div></div>*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-22800114550092920892008-04-10T17:55:00.000-07:002008-04-10T18:46:01.713-07:00Back home, back to my routine...So it's been a rough week. Had to go away for a week for work and let's just say...it is really, really good to be home.<br /><br />On my last business trip, I lost complete control of myself. Ate whatever I wanted, didn't set foot in a gym, gained three (okay, maybe <em>four</em>) pounds. It was a diet disaster of the grandest proportions.<br /><br />So you can imagine how nervous I was about the prospect of another business trip. One that I knew would last a week. But I trained with Ms. A the day before I left and upon researching the hotel discovered it had a 24-hour gym.<br /><br />I felt good going in. Good that minutes after checking in, I was sweating away on a treadmill, good that the gym had free weights, machines, and resistance bands--all the equipment I use with Ms. A. It was great.<br /><br />Until I got to the first work event and noticed the meal. Salad drenched in dressing, creamy mashed potatoes, rice pilaf and fried fish with buckets of tartar sauce. I went with the portion control theory here...but the next day, my choices were chicken parmesan and cheese tortellini in a cream sauce. Oh boy.<br /><br />Needless to say, I ended up in the gym every day of my trip but one. I told myself, "If I can't eat the healthy stuff I want, I need to exercise extra hard."<br /><br />As a result--came home today, weighed myself and I maintained. I'll take it.<br /><br />Especially since the day before my trip, I went shopping for a few business-friendly outfits...and two weeks with Ms. A have already brought me down a size.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-52167729224628863562008-04-02T15:21:00.000-07:002008-04-02T15:30:05.129-07:00The Bottomless PitThere's one week a month that I swear, no matter what I do, what I eat or how much willpower I exercise, I feel just plain terrible.<br /><br />Ladies, I'm sure you know what week I'm talking about.<br /><br />This is the first time I've gone through PMS week since hiring Ms. A--and can I just say that yesterday's workout was especially brutal. I was dragging and struggling to finish every exercise. I was gaggy and gross and had absolutely no energy (Despite the fact I'm actually getting a good 8 hours of sleep a night).<br /><br />I fessed up to what was going on and she suddenly understood...and told me it was absolutely normal. But she pushed me to keep going and keep going I did.<br /><br />The dangerous part though has been the eating. I am a virtual bottomless pit before my period arrives. It's not that I crave anything in particular (Although today I fell prey to the siren song of some Wendy's fries--but I only ate a few before tossing the rest in the trash)...I'm just <em>always hungry</em>.<br /><br />I can eat protein and it won't matter. Carbs do nothing for me. I just want to eat and eat and eat and eat. It's terrible.<br /><br />Normally, I would tell myself, "Oh, relax. You have your period. You're entitled, have the cookies," and I'd indulge.<br /><br />Now I'm trying to be a little more sensible and telling myself hunger--at least the hunger I'm feeling--won't kill me. I don't need to eat every hour on the hour. I am getting some nutritious meals in...I'm not <em>really</em> starving.<br /><br />So what did I do when the mid-afternoon urge to eat hit?<br /><br />Came to my computer, natch!*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-86696108220074621112008-04-01T19:02:00.000-07:002008-04-01T19:08:04.342-07:00Progress, at last...I'll be honest.<br /><br />When I stepped on the scale this morning and saw I was only down a pound, I was disappointed.<br /><br />I thought about all the work I've put in. How I've pushed myself like a madwoman at the gym. How I'm eating earlier and how I've given up soda.<br /><br />I was thinking for all that effort, there'd be more than one pound gone. But it wasn't to be. And then as I sat there, upset, it hit me...<br /><br />When was the last time I saw the scale go down, period?<br /><br />The past month and a half (maybe even two months) have been nothing but gains or plateaus. Yes, I'm still higher than I want to be, but <em>hello</em>...a pound off is a pound off. How many times over the past two months had I <em>wished</em> I'd "only lost a pound."<br /><br />So I'll take it. And I'll be happy. And I'll keep on going. One of these days I'll wrap my head around that...<br /><br />I'll miss my WI next week since I'll be on yet another business trip, so really, it was good to see some progress. I'm really looking forward to stepping on the scale in two weeks...I think it'll be even <em>better.</em>*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-75447626733528498692008-03-29T13:33:00.000-07:002008-03-29T13:44:54.219-07:00Ch-ch-changesOne thing I've learned as I've been trying to lose weight is that it's never enough to do this halfway. You can't exercise like a fiend and eat garbage. You can't eat well all the time and not exercise.<br /><br />If you want to be successful, truly successful, you need both.<br /><br />So yes, while my Tuesdays and Thursday torture sessions with Ms. A have been challenging (and exciting to finish, I must add), it's the things we discuss in her office, the things I need to do away from the gym that have provided the biggest challenges.<br /><br />At one of my sessions this week, I had to bring Ms. A my entire menu for the past week--everything I'd eaten. Thanks to my BodyBugg log, this wasn't hard. But one glance at it and the first thing she did was say, "We need to lower your calories...this is why you're stuck. 2,000 calories is perfect, for maintaining..." The aforementioned 2,000 calories were what BB recommended for me. Ms. A suggested 1,600 on non-exercise days, 1,700 on exercise days.<br /><br />Okay. I can do that.<br /><br />But then she asked me about the times of my meals...<br /><br />I'm Cuban. For many of us, eating late is the norm. It doesn't help that Mr. CCC doesn't usually come home until after 9 p.m. and we like to eat dinner together. Or that I often work late myself. Eating late has been a way of life for us.<br /><br /><br /><br />So my heart leapt into my throat when Ms. A said no more eating after 7 p.m...if I wanted to have dinner with Mr. CCC, my dinner would be a sugar-free cup of Jello. Point blank, she wants me cutting down on the late eating. And she wants me to cut down on the carbs. And the Diet Coke.<br /><br />That's a lot to adjust. A lot to change, and I'll be honest--it's been harder than I imagined. But I'm trying. I've gone a whole week now without a Diet Coke. And while I still enjoy my carbs, I am trying really hard to cut down on them.<br /><br />The eating late...well, that's a work in progress. I'm still eating past 7 most nights, but I'm shooting to cut it off at 8:30. Either way, it's better than the 10:30, 11 p.m. eating I was doing before.<br /><br />They're challenges, but no one said this would be easy. So I'll just keep plugging away, and working to eat my dinner before the sun goes down.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-8069136236426492082008-03-25T19:43:00.000-07:002008-03-25T19:56:40.121-07:00So that's what a workout feels like...Silly me.<br /><br />I've been working out regularly for a while. Pilates once a week, cardio at least 3 times a week, weights twice a week...<br /><br />It sounded good to me (though I confess--I knew I should be doing more.) But still--I was exercising. I was being active.<br /><br />Yet today, I learned everything I thought I knew about exercise was wrong. Why?<br /><br />Cause I had my first full session with my trainer and wow...just wow. She put my body through hell. But that good kind of hell. The kind of hell where you feel like you're accomplishing something. The kind of hell where your legs are jelly but you are proud of yourself.<br /><br />Squats. Lunges. Dips. Weights. Walking. Doesn't sound like much, but it was 40 minute of agony. On more than one occasion, I thought for sure I'd be losing my breakfast. On those moments where my muscles burned, my stomach flip-flopped and I just felt like I couldn't do it, Ms. A (My affectionate nickname for my trainer) was right there--telling me to push through, making me believe I could do it. She was right.<br /><br />Since hiring Ms. A, I've had a few people ask me if I really believed the investment was worth it. Today, I learned for sure that it most definitely is. Why?<br /><br />Because I know myself. And when that workout got tough, had I been on my own, I would have slacked. I would have quit. I would have tried something else.<br /><br />Ms. A won't let me do that. She knows what I can do. She challenges me to follow through. And that, more than her knowledge of exercise itself, is what has already made me--after one session--feel confident that I did the right thing.<br /><br />I may, however, learn to dislike Tuesdays and Thursdays pretty quickly, ha ha!*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-63502777910088586692008-03-23T16:02:00.000-07:002008-03-23T16:25:28.162-07:00An investment...in meA pair of $600 Manolo Blahniks.<br /><br />A $1,200 bag from Yves Saint Laurent.<br /><br />Had you asked me earlier this week what I wanted for my 30th birthday (which looms in July), that's what I would have answered.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong--I don't expect anyone in my life to get those for me. Nor can I afford them. BUT, I wanted them. So I've been saving, diligently, for a while. They were going to be my treats to myself on a very big birthday.<br /><br />But I can't explain how or why I woke up mid-week and said, "That's not good enough. I want <span style="font-weight: bold;">more</span>. I want <span style="font-weight: bold;">better</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">I want a better ME!"</span><br /><br />Okay, maybe I can explain it...after my new scale--which I am beginning to detest--showed yet another gain, I went bananas. It annoyed me, but it didn't make me sad.<br /><br />Despite the fact I really believe the thing is broken (Weights very crazily from one moment to the next) the number pushed me right back into the gym and in the haze of my monotonous workout, I saw a poster out the corner of my eye.<br /><br />"Five Personal Training Sessions for $199! Sign up now!"<br /><br />So after my torturous treadmill session ended, I asked to meet with a personal trainer, a woman I'd seen kicking various shaped rear ends all over the gym. She wasn't there, but I left a message. When she called back, she let me know she had an opening the very next morning at 9 a.m....and asked if I was interested.<br /><br />"That was quick," I thought to myself. But I booked the appointment. And in 20 minutes, that trainer had me sweating like I never sweat in my hour-long, boring workouts. It was brutal, intense and I realized hours later--painful. But it felt good.<br /><br />So when we sat in her office, I asked what other options there were....I know five sessions ain't gonna cut it with me. She showed me the 16-session package. And said we could add the five sessions at the bonus price...pretty much giving me 21 sessions for the price of 16.<br /><br />My head spun looking at the numbers. The training wouldn't be cheap. Mr. CCC would murder me for spending that kind of money.<br /><br />Then it hit me. I had plenty of money in my birthday saving fund. It would cover the training. I'd have to give up the shoes and the bag, but what I would get in return would be far more valuable.<br /><br />So I signed on the dotted line. 21 sessions with my trainer. I start Tuesday. And I couldn't be more excited.<br /><br />Because if this doesn't work, I don't know what will.<br /><br />And let's face it...if I'm giving up the money for those shoes and that bag, I'm making sure those pennies aren't wasted.<br /><br />How's that for finding my mojo again?*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-74868429683510487432008-03-15T11:22:00.000-07:002008-03-15T11:42:26.668-07:00Trying to get back the mo...I'll be 100% honest, with you, with myself.<br /><br />For the past month, my head and my heart haven't been in my weight loss efforts. I spent roughtly three weeks in a hotel room on various business trips. Events from early in the morning to late at night meant I had little time to work out--even though I packed my gear with me. Heck, I couldn't even use my BB because my travel laptop wouldn't let me upload data with the USB cable. There were limited options for dining...and while yes, I tried to stick with things that were grilled or steamed or from the vegetable family, I know my diet was far from what I'm used to eating at home.<br /><br />It was tough and so I took a break. I needed to in a way...just stop obsessing about weight loss, weight gain, my progress or lack thereof. I needed to regain some control in a way.<br /><br />While I was gone, my last two weeks of prepaid WW membership expired. I'll be honest--I have yet to decide whether to continune with meetings. In the interim, I've set up an online membership. I'm still logging my meals, my points, etc. But I'm nervous that I'm not making a good decision.<br /><br />Fact of the matter is, I keep going back and forth about a lot of things with this. I'm very angry...at my body? At myself? I don't know.<br /><br />I know that in my 29-year lifetime, I have tried to lose weight multiple times. Never have I stuck with a program the way I have with this one (even if my last few weeks have been lackadaisical). Never have I worked this hard in the gym, in the kitchen as I have since I started trying to lose weight in September of 2006.<br /><br />And never have I seen this kind of slow progress. It's maddening. I know I've posted that for a few weeks already, but I can't take my mind off it. 33 pounds in 17 months? It's not much of an incentive to keep going, yet I do.<br /><br />I think that's why that break was so essential for me. But now that I'm back to normal hours, normal workdays and oh yes--being in my own home again!--I just don't have the drive I did before.<br /><br />I am proud of myself because this week I went back to the gym and back to Pilates--for the first time in almost a month. Getting there was the toughest part. Now I just need to keep it going. Somehow, someway.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-72976027995834284562008-02-18T18:45:00.000-08:002008-02-18T19:17:04.519-08:00Fighting the demons...It never ceases to amaze me.<br /><br />No matter how long I've been on program, or how long I think I've finally conquered bad habits, I am stunned to discover this is all a life-long process. It is amazing how quickly all the good things I've learned can be thrown to the wayside.<br /><br />It's been a bit of a downward spiral for me food-wise for three days. The reason for my bad behavior?<br /><br />A bad run-in with the scale.<br /><br />Seriously. Shouldn't I know better by now? How many times have I written "this is for life," or "The number on the scale doesn't matter?" Countless, countless times, right?<br /><br />So why was it, that when Saturday came and I had yet another disappointing weigh-in, that I told myself, "The hell with it," and began stuffing myself with everything that wasn't nailed down?<br /><br />After my weigh-in (Where I must say I stayed the same. Again.), I joined some of my friends for an outing to an Amish farm.<br /><br />We had a great time...picked some strawberries and tomatoes. Enjoyed the fresh veggies. Had an all-natural milk shake. And then the real damage started. Apparently, these wonderfully kind Amish folks are great bakers. Herbed breads, cakes, cookies...and cinnamon rolls. Down went one cinnamon roll (at least they had no frosting...a small victory).<br /><br />Then we went to a Mexican restaurant...down went the guacamole and the enchiladas. For dessert...another cinnamon roll.<br /><br />For dinner, Mr. CCC and I made a late Wendy's run. I can console myself and tell myself the children's meal was a far better option than what the "old" me would have had, but let's get real. It was a burger. And fries. And yet another cinnamon roll for dessert. (Are you keeping track? That's three...in one day)<br /><br />Sunday was our belated Valentine's Day dinner...where we shared a fried risotto appetizer (divine, I confess). Filet mignon as an entree. Flourless chocolate cake for dessert. This wouldn't have been so bad--everyone deserves a splurge meal every once in a while--if we hadn't had more fast-food junk at lunch.<br /><br />To say I've blown through my calorie allotment for the past two days is an understatement. And I honestly didn't care. In my mind, what was the point of sacrificing? Of exercising? Of passing up what I really wanted to get the healthy stuff?<br /><br />I've been doing all that for well over 16 months. I have lost a grand total of 33 pounds. I'm no math major, but that doesn't even come out to a pound per week. Considering how overweight I am, how much weight I have to lose, you can start to imagine why I'm bothered by this. You can imagine how my heart breaks when I see people who weigh less than me telling my how much weight they've lost; how they never exercise, how close they are to their goal weights. Internally, I start to cry and beg the gods of weight loss to please, please, let that be me.<br /><br />So this weekend, I gave up. I quit. I said "To hell with this," and ate whatever I wanted, however I wanted.<br /><br />And this morning, I woke up with a stomach ache. My body begged for healthy food. I kept thinking to myself what a good option a salad would be. I went to Taco Bell instead (At least I talked myself out of too much junk...I had a 9-point Fresco Chicken Bowl instead).<br /><br />I'm leaving tomorrow for a week-long business trip. Because Mr. CCC and I are as usual, incredbily behind on the laundry, I had to run to the mall to get a few basics. And standing in the fitting room, I grew even more ashamed of my behavior.<br /><br />Because despite what the scale told me--or didn't tell me this week--I've gone down another size.<br /><br />In <em>jeans.</em><br /><br />You know, jeans. Those pants made with denim, that material that rarely gives? I almost started to cry. My body is changing and I'm not paying attention to it. Instead, I'm paying attention to a number. A machine made of cold plastic and metal.<br /><br />I tried on a top...yes, it was cut very generously...but it was a medium. The XL and the large swam on me.<br /><br />Why do I keep torturing myself with the scale? Why do I continue to let that little machine make me miserable? And why, when it doesn't tell me what I want it to tell me, do I still run quickly to whatever food I can stuff down my throat?<br /><br />It's bad behavior at its worst. It's bad habits rearing their ugly heads. It's me, not believing in myself.<br /><br />That has to change.<br /><br />If I continue to pressure myself the way I'm am, I'm never going to conquer my issues with food or the scale. And if I don't do that, I will never succeed. And as I've written before, I have too much at stake to quit.<br /><br />If only I could remember that...in good times, and in bad.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-71487822150564951882008-02-11T16:49:00.000-08:002008-02-11T17:23:23.255-08:00Why I'm really doing this...Things have been hectic--but incredibly exciting lately.<br /><br />I haven't blogged in a while, but if I were to tell you things were "same old, same old," I'd be lying.<br /><br />Why?<br /><br />Cause Mr. CCC and I are now a very proud uncle and aunt. Mr. CCC's sister had a lovely little daughter last weekend and I can't tell you how excited we are. My niece is an absolute doll and I am already spoiling her. She and her mom are both doing really well (even if mom's a little sleep-deprived) and everyone is in love with her.<br /><br />Her mom just sent us a link to the newest pictures and I have to admit--I teared up looking at them. Happy tears of course! Babies just bring such joy and this little one is so special.<br /><br />The entire experience of watching my sister-in-law become a mom has been wonderful. And it's been an eye-opening reminder of why I'm doing this.<br /><br />There are so many reasons I'm losing weight. Looking good and being healthy are right up there, no doubt about it. But for me, the reason is a whole lot more personal.<br /><br />I really want to be a mom and I know that at the weight I am, that's just not good.<br /><br />Seeing my sister-in-law hold my niece was amazing--and yet, for me, slightly terrifying. It hit me--what if I can't have that moment? What if this body, that I have used and abused for so long, doesn't cooperate? What if I'll never get to see my husband, who I adore, hold a baby we created together?<br /><br />It's so weird--we've been married nearly four years. The questions about when we'd procreate started the moment we walked down the aisle. For most of that time, we'd give people the standard, "We're not ready yet" line.<br /><br />What a cruel joke it is when your head is finally ready, but your body isn't.<br /><br />When I saw my doctor last September, I told her my concerns...and she told me it was good I was concerned. At 230-something pounds (where I was when I saw her), my body was in no shape to make a baby. A pregnancy at that weight would be riskier than a normal pregnancy. It'd be more stress on my joints and my bones. But she was happy that I was doing something about my weight on my own.<br /><br />And she even gave me hope. My doctor told me there was no need for me to pressure myself and feel I had to be at my GOAL weight to try and get pregnant. She said she'd be happy if I was in the neighborhood of 175 and told me that if I was a little bit overweight, I likely wouldn't gain much during my pregnancy.<br /><br />I am bowing to her better judgement, since her walls were full of fancy medical school diplomas and all, and targeting 175. But that still feels so far away.<br /><br />It's why the plateaus and the gains have been so frustrating. I keep thinking to myself, "I've wasted the first 29 years of my life being fat...it's time to get healthy. Doing that before 30 would be nice."<br /><br />For the record--30 is in late July. And that's the plan I figured out with my trainer...to get me at 175 by August 1, all I'd have to do was lose 1.5 pounds per week. Manageable. Doable.<br /><br />But on Week 1 with the BodyBugg, I stayed the same. This week I only lost one pound. I have never thought about my long-term goal of 145...that seemed so far away. Now even 175 seems like it's an eternity from where I am.<br /><br />Sure, I see the progress I'm making. Mr. CCC and I donated two bags worth of my old clothes this weekend. I look at pictures taken of me recently and I don't cringe (much) anymore. But I feel like I'm in a race with myself, with my body, with my fertility.<br /><br />And being around my niece has reminded me that it's a race I have to win, no matter how hard it gets.*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-29779249406118150082008-01-31T15:40:00.000-08:002008-01-31T15:55:02.088-08:00Beaten up...by grandmaSo I'm loving life with the new BodyBugg (known from here on out as BB, because I'm getting tired of typing it out all the time, ha ha!)<br /><br />Simply by wearing it, I feel like I'm playing a game with myself--burn more calories than I take in. Who knew it would take 29 years and a gadget to get me to truly grasp the science behind losing weight...<br /><br />Well, there are few moments more rewarding in my day than the ones where I'm home, just before bed, uploading my BB and waiting to see how many calories I've burned that day. Seriously, I feel so triumphant when I see I reached my "target deficit" for the day.<br /><br />But in order to reach this moment of nirvana, I uh, have to move more. I find all kinds of little reasons now to move--go to the copier on the other side of the office (instead of the one by my desk); park my car farthest from the store entrance...you know, all that stuff the exercise magazines tell you to do and you tend to roll your eyes at.<br /><br />And I've gone to the gym more times this week than I have in a long while. I felt pretty good about myself and my efforts until this morning when I noticed the gym was crawling with elderly folks. Apparently, my Bally's is a SilverSneakers gym.<br /><br />Nothing against senior citizens...I live in a building full of them and yes, some of them are grumpy, but most of them are very, very sweet.<br /><br />No, what depressed me was the sweet little old woman who was apparently doing a lower body workout, just like me. She kept following me from weight machine to weight machine. At first I thought to myself, "Wow! I wonder if she can do this?! She's <em>older</em>!!"<br /><br />But here's where the depression came in...after I'd hop off a machine, she'd hop on...<strong><em>and not change any of the settings</em></strong>. She was lifting the same weights I was--and on two cases, MORE than I lifted.<br /><br />I was being outexercised...by a GRANDMA!<br /><br />Talk about depressing. Or motivating. In my newfound effort to try and be more positive, I'll go with "motivating" to describe the whole experience. I found myself walking out of the gym thinking, "Man...I hope I'm that fit when I'm her age."<br /><br />That lady was working out with all the gusto of a 29-year old (albeit one that's not very fit, but still...). She was limber and moving around and well...she was easily in her 70s.<br /><br />I was in awe. I hope she's passing on all those wonderful lessons to her kids and grandkids. I wish mine had. Instead, I had a grandmother who believed with all her heart that food was love. And her food was usually fried and/or made with lots of fat. (Hello! We're Cuban...we FRY bananas!)<br /><br />Now, my grandmother is paying the price. She's overweight. Not in the best health. Has arthritis and other things that make her feel terrible. I can't help but wonder how different her life would be if she was out there, moving around like the gym grandma is.<br /><br />Screw depressing. Even motivating isn't enough. I'm thinking of that gym-going granny as inspiration!*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-88637787915990247342008-01-28T15:25:00.000-08:002008-01-28T15:44:48.560-08:00I've been Bugged!Ha, now there's a catchy title...especially since it's true. In more ways than one.<br /><br />This weekend brought another WW meeting, which brought another run-in with the scale, which brought another gain.<br /><br />This time it was only 1/2 a pound, but considering it was the second week in a row, I was seriously bummed. (It also shot down the nagging notion in my head that maybe, just maybe, last week's gain was water weight or water retention. Apparently <em>not</em>!)<br /><br />I don't do well when the scale goes up. Especially two weeks in a row. I left WW in tears, miserably unhappy and convinced I am destined to be fat forever. Well, isn't that nice?<br /><br />But I didn't have much time to get upset. I had an appointment with a trainer to set up my <a href="http://bodybugg.com/">BodyBugg.</a> I now think setting that meeting up two hours after my weigh-in was divine intervention. Because after I sat in her office, let out all my frustrations, and got my Bugg program going, I was convinced I'd be able to do this.<br /><br />I was also convinced I was going to have to work a lot harder than I have been.<br /><br />The BodyBugg is a little device that I'm going to be wearing every day. It's going to measure exactly how many steps I take every day, how many calories I burn every day and at what point my metabolism is the highest.<br /><br />I'll then enter everything I eat into the online program (which for me, is not a pain to do. I enter all my meals on <a href="http://www.weightwatchers.com/index.aspx">ww.com</a>, so heck, I can enter one meal twice. No biggie!) and the program will calculate my intake vs. the calories burned.<br /><br />When I set up the program, I had to tell BodyBugg how much weight I wanted to lose, how much I wanted to lose per week, and give it a goal date. At this point, I told BodyBugg that I would like to be firmly ensconced in Onederland by my 30th birthday (in July!). It figured that means I need to lose about 1.5 pounds a week (a reasonable amount, I think). And based on that, it has calculated a target "calorie deficit" for me that I need to reach daily.<br /><br />Pretty neat, huh? I'm loving it and I hope it answers some of my questions as to why my body just is not cooperating. Although when I shared with the trainer what was going on, she just about fell out of her chair.<br /><br />To teach me how to use the program, she had me log a typical day's meals. When we did that, we were both stunned. I'd say that a good 3-4 days of the week, I'm not eating enough. My body's probably annoyed by that.<br /><br />Now, I've heard of this "starvation mode" thing before. I know it's true. I just never imagined my chubby rear could find that place. But apparently, every once in a while, I do...my sample day calorie total was under 1,200. Considering I exercise, that's not good.<br /><br />So who knows? Maybe that's why my weight loss efforts have been so batty--to make up for the weekends (when yes, I overindulge. Often!) I eat less during the week; but my "less" is not enough to give my body what it needs.<br /><br />That's what I love about the Bugg...it's an awareness thing. Hey, it's not going to beep when I reach for the cookie. It doesn't stop you from reaching for the cheeseburger. But it makes you really aware of what you're doing. And you can't tell yourself your workout means you get 500 calories to play with---unless you <em>really</em> burned 500 calories.<br /><br />It's one more way to keep myself accountable. But I am glad BodyBugg didn't go to Paris...*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-56007007468576596002008-01-21T17:57:00.000-08:002008-01-21T18:21:11.479-08:00Envy...my deadly sinI like to consider myself a good person. For the most part.<br /><br />I'm generally nice to people. I adore my family. I go to church. Donate money to charity. Try really hard to make time for my friends and the people I love.<br /><br />But I know I'm far from perfect and one of my faults is that I am an incredibly jealous person. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Eww</span>, it just sounds ugly. But it's true.<br /><br />I'm possessive when someone of the female gender looks at Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">CCC</span>. I roll my eyes (internally) when coworkers talk about their big raises. I wish I had the looks of Catherine Zeta-Jones or the shoe collection of Carrie Bradshaw.<br /><br />I know I should be content with my lot in life, but like I said--it's my downfall. I want more.<br /><br />This tendency towards envy has now spilled into another arena of my life...my weight loss efforts.<br /><br />After being so proud of what I accomplished over the holidays, I guess I got a little complacent. And <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">whaddya</span> know...this week, I gained a pound and a half. Ugh. Considering it usually takes me two weeks or more to lose a pound, this was not a good turn of events.<br /><br />Worse was how as I stood in line I had to keep hearing "Oh! Look at you! You've lost three pounds this week!" or "Wow! Look at that...down two. You're almost at your 10 percent!"<br /><br />It's not that I wish my fellow Weight Watchers wouldn't lose weight---I want them to! But heck, <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> want to lose weight too!<br /><br />I've now been trying to lose weight for 15 months. In that span, I have lost 32 pounds. That's really not good, especially considering that when I started this journey in September of 2006, I weighed 255 pounds.<br /><br />That's a lot of weight. Enough that the scale should be moving a little better than it is. Yeah, I've had some rough patches here and there, but I'm well below the one-pound weekly loss that's supposed to be healthy (and normal).<br /><br />And yeah, I am jealous of those newbies that have strolled into my meeting and lost 20 pounds in three or four months. Yeah, I'm incredibly jealous of those folks on The Biggest Loser who bitch and moan when they only lose two or three pounds in a given week. I'd KILL to have a week where I lost three pounds. I think in my 15-month journey that's only happened once or twice.<br /><br />It's funny. When I crinkled my face at the ugly number this weekend, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">weigher</span> said to me, "You've lost weight. You'll get this off. You can't be negative about this," and the only thing I've been since Saturday is...surprise, surprise, negative.<br /><br />The positive? Instead of channeling negative energy into a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough, I channel it into exercise. Working out while angry is a good thing. And that's what I did Saturday--went straight from my meeting to a 45-minute session with the elliptical machine. Today, I also called a personal trainer to set up an appointment...Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">CCC</span> knows how frustrated I've been with my effort so for Christmas, he bought me a <a href="http://www.bodybugg.com/">Body <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Bugg</span></a>.<br /><br />The trainer is supposed to set it up for me. I'm hoping she also has some reasonable packages that maybe I can purchase so I can get some professional help in the fitness department. Maybe it's what I need.<br /><br />And then maybe, just maybe, someone can envy my weight loss for the week...*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-36752101500347202972008-01-07T20:44:00.000-08:002008-01-07T21:13:09.975-08:00So that's what a fever will do for ya...So Paris came and went.<br /><br />And yes, it was wonderful.<br /><br />The food, the scenery, the time away from work...heck, even the Arctic temperatures were a treat. (I live in South Florida; I get excited anytime the temperature dips below 70.)<br /><br />But all that gluttony and chilly air did a number on my body...and a day after getting off the plane, I was huddled in bed, my body rebelling with a 101-degree fever. Mr. CCC came home early from work as several hours passed and my temperature wouldn't go down. The fever finally broke on Friday, but I was still so sick the only thing I could even fathom keeping down was saltines and Gatorade.<br /><br />I think those two days of limited eating did a number on me--because when I went to my meeting on Saturday and stepped on the scale--fully expecting it to go up, btw!--I was pleasantly surprised.<br /><br />Instead of gaining from my Paris indulgences, I lost half a pound.<br /><br />How's that for just pure insanity? I spend eight weeks obsessing and completely stuck at my weight. Yet at my last two weigh-ins, the ones I wasn't worried about the number, or where I expected it to go up...the scale moved in the way I wanted it to.<br /><br />So what's the lesson here? That I need to stop worrying so much about the scale? (Easier said than done!) Or that maybe, just maybe, a well-timed fever can do wonders for your weight loss efforts?<br /><br />For better or for worse, I can now say that I lost a pound and a half during the holidays...and considering the average American gains 7 pounds between Thanksgiving and New Year's, I'll take it.<br /><br />It was just the kind of kick-start to the new year and my re-focused effort I needed.<br /><br />And get this...I even managed to go to the gym today. Felt like I was going to collapse, but I went...it feels pretty good to be back on track!*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-7393416157679313442008-01-04T09:25:00.000-08:002008-01-04T09:36:34.666-08:00Wow...a whole month, huh?I know I've been missing in action for a while.<br /><br />If I had to tell you what the past month has been like, you wouldn't believe me. Because for me, December was nothing but pure insanity.<br /><br />I try not to get too much of my personal or work life into this blog, but when it comes to work, my busiest time of year runs from August to December. In that span, December is the worst. I work on the biggest project of the entire year with insane deadlines and uncooperative people.<br /><br />The two weeks before Christmas I was literally at the office every day from 10 a.m. to well past midnight. Every day.<br /><br />The good thing about all that? While everyone else was dodging Christmas-party diet landmines, I didn't even find time to scarf down cookies or champagne. I also didn't find time to darken the doorstep at my gym. It's been about a month since I've worked out. Ouch!<br /><br />As a result, my weight loss has been at a complete standstill. Complete. I stayed on my plan, but for eight weeks, I stayed the exact same weight. Not up an ounce, not down an ounce. Eight weeks. When the same thing happened on week eight, I literally started to cry on the scale.<br /><br />It was frustrating and maddening, but in the end, I kind of interpreted it as the universe doing its part to keep me even keel during a very stressful time in my life. It was as if my body said, "Hey, CCC. You've got a lot on your plate. Don't worry about shedding pounds right now. Worry about staying healthy and sane and finishing this project. We'll get going again as soon as you're done."<br /><br />Sure enough, once I turned in the project and had a few days to enjoy Christmas, I stepped on the scale and lost a pound.<br /><br />Of course, when I return to WW on Saturday, I don't expect that to be the case. Mr. CCC and I just returned from a week-long trip to Paris and I'll be honest--I did not even bother to count points.<br /><br />Heck, it's Paris. Who knows when I'll be back? So I let myself enjoy...and enjoy I did. Crepes, fondue, champagne, foie gras and buckets of onion soup. Perhaps the damage isn't so bad--we did a lot of walking and in Europe, the portions are far more reasonable than here in the states--but even if I did gain a pound or two, I just don't mind.<br /><br />I told myself before we left that I'd regroup come the new year...and for me, that new year started the moment the plane touched down. I'll deal with what the scale has to say tomorrow.<br /><br />To make my journey even easier, Santa brought me one of those nifty Body Bugg contraptions. I need to go meet with a personal trainer next week to activate it and get it going. I'm really looking forward to getting back in the gym and back to my normal life. Because there was nothing normal about December and I'm glad that month is now in my rear-view mirror...*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8023503051242263219.post-15063934376965607022007-11-28T17:00:00.000-08:002007-11-28T17:21:32.826-08:00Life lessons from one of the babiesWhen you're an only child but a part of a really (and I mean, really) large extended family, your cousins become the siblings you never had.<br /><br />I love my cousins the way most people love their siblings--seriously. My family is incredibly close. Growing up, I'd spend every afternoon with my cousins. Weekend outings, parties, all of it was a huge part of my world growing up...they're my friends, my confidants...my family. <em>My</em> brothers and sisters.<br /><br />Which is why Thanksgiving was such a highlight for me...life has gotten crazy for all of us as we've gotten older; some of my cousins are off in college right now; others are working their ways through their first jobs, their first big relationships...it's fun to watch and experience with them and catching up with them over turkey and rice and beans (What can I say, we're Cuban!) was the best part of my day.<br /><br />Of course, my cousins all commented on my weight loss. I got lots of big hugs, congratulations and encouragement. They had questions about how I was doing it, what I wanted, and what my workouts were...and inevitably, I sat and spoke with one of my cousins in particular because she's a fitness buff and she wanted to help. (We actually got a big laugh out of my mom's reaction when I started doing pilates...which went like this: Mom: "You're doing pilates? But that's real exercise. Your cousin D does pilates. Aren't you too fat to do pilates? You know, if D does pilates, that's a good thing. She has a gorgeous body. Why didn't you take up pilates sooner?")<br /><br />To understand why that was funny to me and my cousin D (who I consider one of the family babies...since she's a whopping six years younger than I am) you have to understand who D is...she's the family starlet. Seriously. The girl is gorgeous. Skin as clear as you can imagine. Long, dark shiny hair. A smile that is perfect and white and has never required braces. And oh yes--the figure. D has the kind of body I would murder someone for. She has curves in all the right places and without an iota of extra fat anywhere...in all seriousness, she is absolutely gorgeous and our family knows--she's the beauty.<br /><br />But here's the thing--while, sure, there's a little bit of genetic magic in there (How did I skip those genes?), there's a lot of hard work there too. While everyone sat around us stuffing themselves with multiple servings of turkey, ham, stuffing and mashed potatoes loaded with cheese, cream cheese and sour cream (umm....), D sat there, nibbling on a plate full of vegetable sides.<br /><br />She became a vegetarian a year ago. She works out every day and just listening to her regimen made me exhausted. But it left me inspired. And it reminded me--it does take hard work to reach the goals we have for ourselves.<br /><br />When it came time for dessert, D indulged--she had one (small) piece of pie. While everyone else ate multiple (large) pieces of pie. She and I sat giggling over the ridiculous quantities of food and how our family just doesn't get it. Somehow, we always have way, way, way too much food to consume. It's the family joke. There's never been a shortage of food at any get together. Ever.<br /><br />Sitting there and talking to her for most of the day helped me stay on track. How could I be discussing my new healthy lifestyle while I ate a cupcake? Was I supposed to talk about my new workouts between bite after bite of flan and pumpkin pie? I think not.<br /><br />Having D to talk to, to commiserate with, to laugh with was huge. And it paid its dividends two days later when I went to my WW--and I stayed the same. Was I happy I stayed the same? Not really. But I knew I'd worked to do that--after a week of eating out, after being sick and too tired to work out, after surviving Thanksgiving--staying exactly the same was a minor miracle.<br /><br />Life has started calming down somewhat for me. I've worked out a few more times. My eating is back on track in the best way possible. I'm actually eager to get back to my meeting this Saturday and see if the number has finally started budging down.<br /><br />And I know part of what kept me on track during that rough week was my conversation with my baby cousin D...who knew those younger siblings could be so wise?*ccc*http://www.blogger.com/profile/01938403363974512245noreply@blogger.com9