Weight: 189 pounds
Pants size: 14... but read for more details below.
NO GYM TODAY
Water: Plenty, plenty, plenty!
Breakfast: Regular coffee with cinnamon and skim milk
Lunch: Apple, diet pepsi... busy trying to get my boss out the door
Dinner: 2 small pulled pork sliders, oil & vinegar coleslaw, baked beans.
Snack: None
So, I'm trying to get ready to be Texas-bound, and there is a lot to do. So I have to be honest, I didn't make it to the gym tonight. Boo. I know. I understand if you no longer want to be my friend. But, I also didn't want to leave you folks hangin' tomorrow morning for an update.
So, this past weekend, I realized that my favorite pair of jeans had a big hole in the inner thigh. I've been wearing them for more than a year, so I'm not really surprised, but it was pretty devastating. My Mom said that she'd go out and buy me some jeans for my trip, though. So really, I got over the devastating wardrobe malfunction pretty quickly.
Well, Banana Republic has changed their denim sizes from American (10, 12, 14) to European (30s). Now, this has always confused the heck out of me (I have no idea what size pants John wears... 30-something by 30-something... but any more specific requires a phone call in the store) and apparently it's genetic, because my Mom was also confused.
Now, you would think that working in retail, the girls who work at Banana Republic would be able to do the conversion pretty quickly seeing as their job is to fold the pants, help you try on the pants, sell the pants. But alas, they did not. So, my Mom bought some jeans. I tried said jeans on. They fit, but man, they were a little bit tight in the belly area. I was absolutely panicked for a moment... I mean, I've been busting my butt. I've been hungry. I've been sweaty-- and now I was growing out of a size 14? Ridiculous! But, before we called the doctor and schedule me for another thyroid test, we decided to Google. Come to find out... she bought the equivalent of a 12. I haven't been able to button a pair of 12 pants in over a year, so that's a major milestone. But, not comfortably there yet.
So here's my plan... I'm going to keep a size 12 because obviously I'm almost there. But tomorrow, I'm going to go buy a size 14 to wear to Texas.
SO CLOSE! ... Yet so far away.
Don't worry, I'm bringing my running shoes to Texas. So maybe next time, this will be Evacuate the Cactus... or Evacuate the Cowboy Boots...
Until then, stay hungry!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
You've got a lot of strength in you yet...
Weight: 190 pounds.
Heart Pumpin' Jame: This Woman's Work-- Maxwell
Pants size: 14
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations. Bike: 1.0 mile.
Water: Again, plenty.
Breakfast: Coffee and Water
Lunch: Turkey sandwich w/ tomato and spicy mustard. Stupid, stupid baked lays.
Dinner: Big egg white omelet w/ a little cheese and a tiny bit of sliced up ham.
Snack: None.
I would like to begin by saying the family who lives above John and I need to go to the gym instead of rolling bowling balls across the floor and jumping up and down. They sound like they could come crashing through the ceiling anytime now. It wouldn't even surprise me. Elephants.
Now, I think I actually convinced myself I was getting sick today to avoid going to the gym. That's right. I have sunk to a new level of fatty fatty fattiness.
I truly believed in my head that I had a fever, the chills, and a stuffy nose. I told myself on my ride home on the metro that if I had a fever, I didn't have to go. I was actually a little worried-- people in my office are sick-- because I'm flying out to see my very pregnant sister-in-law, brother, and nephew, and a sick visitor would neither be appreciated nor tolerated, I'm sure. So I sat shivering on the metro, thinking that no, it would not be a good idea to go to the gym tonight as I was surely on the verge of some sort of flu-death. I got home, I went right into the guest bathroom and took my temperature. 98.3. No fever. My head created illness so I didn't have to elliptical. I put on my sweats and my shoes and got my butt to the gym... because THAT is just ridiculous. Fake, mind-created sickness.
Now, I have to admit that I did a few of Britney's greatest hits... and then my iPhone threw me for a loop. Maxwell. This Woman's Work. I almost changed it, because really, it's kind of a slow jam. But, I gave it a minute. And then I gave it two. And then I hit 'repeat.'
I'd like to take a moment to digress. I know a lot of my ladies read this blog. And, I want to thank you for that. I also know that a lot of my ladies are going through some tough, hard, shitty times right now. From husbands and boyfriends leaving, to not being happy with current situations, ex-boyfriends calling and then not calling, and unhappy job/boss/co-worker situations. These are desperate times. And, I have to say that most of the time, I don't know what to say... there are so many of you who have been through so much lately and are still waking up every day and getting through. You're amazing. And, I think this is why Maxwell hit a chord with me. I know this sounds silly, but it really brought my elliptical-ing to the next level... and I was mad. I was mad at the boys (yes, take note: I said boys) who don't appreciate you, the boys who don't have the guts to put a little work into relationships, the bosses who don't know how smart and talented you are, the situations that have left you feeling a little bit hopeless. But as Maxwell said, "I know you've got a little life in you yet. I know you've got a lotta strength left."
So tonight, I want to dedicate my heart pumpin' jam to my ladies who have demonstrated the kind of strength that heroes are made of (more below the song):
How about that, ladies? I know. You want to hit someone now... or cry. Me too!
But in all seriousness, I admire your strength. And maybe while I find my strength, we can work on building it together. Whoa, it got serious in here all of a sudden. But maybe, just maybe, seriousness is what we need every once in a while.
So, let's leave it at that... goodnight and goodluck!
Now, I'm going to basque in the glory of the fact that after tomorrow, I don't have to be at work until 2011. Stoked.
Yours,
Sarah.
Heart Pumpin' Jame: This Woman's Work-- Maxwell
Pants size: 14
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations. Bike: 1.0 mile.
Water: Again, plenty.
Breakfast: Coffee and Water
Lunch: Turkey sandwich w/ tomato and spicy mustard. Stupid, stupid baked lays.
Dinner: Big egg white omelet w/ a little cheese and a tiny bit of sliced up ham.
Snack: None.
I would like to begin by saying the family who lives above John and I need to go to the gym instead of rolling bowling balls across the floor and jumping up and down. They sound like they could come crashing through the ceiling anytime now. It wouldn't even surprise me. Elephants.
Now, I think I actually convinced myself I was getting sick today to avoid going to the gym. That's right. I have sunk to a new level of fatty fatty fattiness.
I truly believed in my head that I had a fever, the chills, and a stuffy nose. I told myself on my ride home on the metro that if I had a fever, I didn't have to go. I was actually a little worried-- people in my office are sick-- because I'm flying out to see my very pregnant sister-in-law, brother, and nephew, and a sick visitor would neither be appreciated nor tolerated, I'm sure. So I sat shivering on the metro, thinking that no, it would not be a good idea to go to the gym tonight as I was surely on the verge of some sort of flu-death. I got home, I went right into the guest bathroom and took my temperature. 98.3. No fever. My head created illness so I didn't have to elliptical. I put on my sweats and my shoes and got my butt to the gym... because THAT is just ridiculous. Fake, mind-created sickness.
Now, I have to admit that I did a few of Britney's greatest hits... and then my iPhone threw me for a loop. Maxwell. This Woman's Work. I almost changed it, because really, it's kind of a slow jam. But, I gave it a minute. And then I gave it two. And then I hit 'repeat.'
I'd like to take a moment to digress. I know a lot of my ladies read this blog. And, I want to thank you for that. I also know that a lot of my ladies are going through some tough, hard, shitty times right now. From husbands and boyfriends leaving, to not being happy with current situations, ex-boyfriends calling and then not calling, and unhappy job/boss/co-worker situations. These are desperate times. And, I have to say that most of the time, I don't know what to say... there are so many of you who have been through so much lately and are still waking up every day and getting through. You're amazing. And, I think this is why Maxwell hit a chord with me. I know this sounds silly, but it really brought my elliptical-ing to the next level... and I was mad. I was mad at the boys (yes, take note: I said boys) who don't appreciate you, the boys who don't have the guts to put a little work into relationships, the bosses who don't know how smart and talented you are, the situations that have left you feeling a little bit hopeless. But as Maxwell said, "I know you've got a little life in you yet. I know you've got a lotta strength left."
So tonight, I want to dedicate my heart pumpin' jam to my ladies who have demonstrated the kind of strength that heroes are made of (more below the song):
How about that, ladies? I know. You want to hit someone now... or cry. Me too!
But in all seriousness, I admire your strength. And maybe while I find my strength, we can work on building it together. Whoa, it got serious in here all of a sudden. But maybe, just maybe, seriousness is what we need every once in a while.
So, let's leave it at that... goodnight and goodluck!
Now, I'm going to basque in the glory of the fact that after tomorrow, I don't have to be at work until 2011. Stoked.
Yours,
Sarah.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Oops... I did it again.
Weight: 190 pounds.
Heart pumpin' jam: Can't be Saved-- Senses Fail... and Britney Spears' greatest hits (and the beginning of the Bears v. Vikings game).
Pants Size: 14... but getting close to 12.
Water: PLENTY. At least 100 ounces.
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations. Bike: 1.2 miles
Breakfast: Venti skim pumpkin spice latte. Banana.
Lunch: Small salad w/ mixed greens, chicken, fat free ranch. Diet pepsi.
Dinner: Leftover homemade split pea soup, which really can't be that bad for you seeing as it's just split peas, stock, ham, carrots, and celery. Piece of bread.
Snack (i.e., something I totally didn't need): a piece of a caramel green apple covered in snow caps.
I'm baaaaaaack. To all my dedicated readers, sorry it's been a while. I have to say, I'm very humbled by the fact I got numerous texts and facebook messages asking for an update. Apparently, Evacuate the Treadmill is all the rage (I got my body and my mind on the same page, and honey now, happiness is all the rage... name THAT band, son).
So I definitely felt like I hit a wall last week. I didn't go to the gym Thursday, Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. And, I tried to use the excuse that work was nuts... which it was with the tax deal and CNN, countless amendments to strike the social security payroll tax holiday provision in the White House/Senate Republican deal, and a sick-sick-sick boss who sounded like he was going to cough up a lung at any moment. But really, I was just feeling a bit unmotivated. I had cramps. I was bloated. I was irritable. I was a damn Tampax commercial, people. And the last thing I wanted to do was sweat on that elliptical machine.
So, I suffered a minor setback. But I'm back on track, and evidently have not gained any weight to show for my laziness. Thank G-O-D. And today, I was feeling pretty motivated. Or, over-hydrated. You see, I know this water thing is part of my problem. I drink too much pop. And, the only way my body can get out all the toxins and burn all the fat is to really step-up the water drinking. So, I spent $1.93 on one of those gigantic Smart Water bottles that could drown a young child-- it's 50+ ounces, so I figure if I can drink two of those a day, I know I'm well on my way. Not to mention the water I'm sucking down before the gym, with dinner, and before I go to bed. And it's funny, when I drink that much water, I feel thinner. Though, the bathroom and I have once again gotten to know each other quite well. Quuuuuuuite well. Besties.
When I got home, the over-hydrated, false-sense of thin feeling almost threw me off my game... and I almost said "Nah, I don't need to go tonight." But, I got on the scale to remind myself that unless they come up with some scientific breakthrough to drink your way to thin, I had to go. So I went.
And man, did I elliptical. I was by myself in the gym, so I really stepped it up a notch. And, I got to 3,000 ellipticals in no time at all! Honestly, I think part of my problem was that I might have been sick of my gym music-- so I treated myself to a few new songs + Britney Spears' greatest hits on iTunes. I think it actually made a difference. And, I had the urge to do the "Hit Me Baby One More Time" while ellipticaling.
But I didn't. Who do you think I am? The gazelle (see: earlier entry)? Not a chance, folks.
So tonight was a good gym night.
On top of my newfound motivation, I have also received a book from my Mom-- "The 17 Day Diet" by Dr. Mike Moreno, which apparently is also all the rage. Dr. Phil did a whole show about it. And, I have to say... it's a smartly written book. And it's worth the money if only for the photo of the uberly attractive Dr. Mike Moreno on the back. He has a faux hawk. And, he has a crooked smile. I tell yah, if I was sitting on a table covered in paper in a blue paper gown that opens in the front, I'd have a heart attack if THAT man walked in. This is why I see female doctors. I think this is also probably why most of his female patients see him.
Okay, okay... back to the book.
The 17-day diet. I'd love to do this diet with someone--so if any of you want to go buy it, I think it's a good purchase. It's not a crazy diet-- it's changing the way you think about food/help you make real life style changes. And, it calls for only 17 minutes of cardio a day. Me likey likey.
So, the first 17-days are obviously the hardest, which is where I am now. I'd love to start it tomorrow, but with Christmas and going to Texas & New Mexico on Friday, I'm not sure that I can actually stick to it. I'll give you an example menu:
Day 1
Breakfast-- 2 scrambled egg whites, 1/2 a grapefruit, 1 cup of green tea.
Lunch-- Large green salad topped with tuna, drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and 2 tablespoons balsamic vingar, 1 cup of green tea.
Dinner-- Plenty of grilled chicken with liberal amounts of any begtables from the list, steamed or raw (lots to choose from but obviously mashed potatoes is not on the list).
Snacks-- 6 oz of sugarfree plain yogurt mixed with 1 to 2 tablespoons sugar-free jam or other probiotic serving (again, they give you a list), 1 serving of fruit from the list before 2:30 pm (again, big list).
This doesn't sound bad at all. I'm not sure how I'm going to do the green tea thing though-- I'm NOT a big tea fan. But, I think I can choke it down if it means someone saying, "Wow, Sarah, you look like you've lost some weight!" Bring on the tea.
So, I'm thinking that perhaps I wait until I get back from Christmas vacation to begin this given that I know my Mom (who is VERY skinny by the way... this is not a genetic problem) has ordered ham and scalloped potatoes. God, any type of potato that's sliced, diced, mashed, or covered in cheese and I am done-zo. That's the midwest-kid in me.
So, I'd like to hear your thoughts... to begin the diet or not to begin.
Just so you all know, I'm trying not to think of the giant caramel snow-cap covered apple in my fridge right now. I think I heard it say my name.
That's all for tonight folks-- I need to watch the Bears clinch the division. BEAR DOWN CHICAGO BEARS! :)
PS. Here's a thought for you-- when I was shopping with my good friend Kelly and her Mom last weekend, we went to Nordstrom Rack. Kelly was looking for some cute new underwear and we discovered that many of the cute silky/lacy/would-never-actually-let-anyone-see-me-in-one thongs are "one size fit all." One size fits all? It should say one size fits some skinny bitches who don't eat very much and need me to shove a Big Mac down their throats. One size fits all. Ha! If that doesn't make you think...
Have a great day, night, afternoon! Until tomorrow.
Love,
S.
Heart pumpin' jam: Can't be Saved-- Senses Fail... and Britney Spears' greatest hits (and the beginning of the Bears v. Vikings game).
Pants Size: 14... but getting close to 12.
Water: PLENTY. At least 100 ounces.
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations. Bike: 1.2 miles
Breakfast: Venti skim pumpkin spice latte. Banana.
Lunch: Small salad w/ mixed greens, chicken, fat free ranch. Diet pepsi.
Dinner: Leftover homemade split pea soup, which really can't be that bad for you seeing as it's just split peas, stock, ham, carrots, and celery. Piece of bread.
Snack (i.e., something I totally didn't need): a piece of a caramel green apple covered in snow caps.
I'm baaaaaaack. To all my dedicated readers, sorry it's been a while. I have to say, I'm very humbled by the fact I got numerous texts and facebook messages asking for an update. Apparently, Evacuate the Treadmill is all the rage (I got my body and my mind on the same page, and honey now, happiness is all the rage... name THAT band, son).
So I definitely felt like I hit a wall last week. I didn't go to the gym Thursday, Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. And, I tried to use the excuse that work was nuts... which it was with the tax deal and CNN, countless amendments to strike the social security payroll tax holiday provision in the White House/Senate Republican deal, and a sick-sick-sick boss who sounded like he was going to cough up a lung at any moment. But really, I was just feeling a bit unmotivated. I had cramps. I was bloated. I was irritable. I was a damn Tampax commercial, people. And the last thing I wanted to do was sweat on that elliptical machine.
So, I suffered a minor setback. But I'm back on track, and evidently have not gained any weight to show for my laziness. Thank G-O-D. And today, I was feeling pretty motivated. Or, over-hydrated. You see, I know this water thing is part of my problem. I drink too much pop. And, the only way my body can get out all the toxins and burn all the fat is to really step-up the water drinking. So, I spent $1.93 on one of those gigantic Smart Water bottles that could drown a young child-- it's 50+ ounces, so I figure if I can drink two of those a day, I know I'm well on my way. Not to mention the water I'm sucking down before the gym, with dinner, and before I go to bed. And it's funny, when I drink that much water, I feel thinner. Though, the bathroom and I have once again gotten to know each other quite well. Quuuuuuuite well. Besties.
When I got home, the over-hydrated, false-sense of thin feeling almost threw me off my game... and I almost said "Nah, I don't need to go tonight." But, I got on the scale to remind myself that unless they come up with some scientific breakthrough to drink your way to thin, I had to go. So I went.
And man, did I elliptical. I was by myself in the gym, so I really stepped it up a notch. And, I got to 3,000 ellipticals in no time at all! Honestly, I think part of my problem was that I might have been sick of my gym music-- so I treated myself to a few new songs + Britney Spears' greatest hits on iTunes. I think it actually made a difference. And, I had the urge to do the "Hit Me Baby One More Time" while ellipticaling.
But I didn't. Who do you think I am? The gazelle (see: earlier entry)? Not a chance, folks.
So tonight was a good gym night.
On top of my newfound motivation, I have also received a book from my Mom-- "The 17 Day Diet" by Dr. Mike Moreno, which apparently is also all the rage. Dr. Phil did a whole show about it. And, I have to say... it's a smartly written book. And it's worth the money if only for the photo of the uberly attractive Dr. Mike Moreno on the back. He has a faux hawk. And, he has a crooked smile. I tell yah, if I was sitting on a table covered in paper in a blue paper gown that opens in the front, I'd have a heart attack if THAT man walked in. This is why I see female doctors. I think this is also probably why most of his female patients see him.
Okay, okay... back to the book.
The 17-day diet. I'd love to do this diet with someone--so if any of you want to go buy it, I think it's a good purchase. It's not a crazy diet-- it's changing the way you think about food/help you make real life style changes. And, it calls for only 17 minutes of cardio a day. Me likey likey.
So, the first 17-days are obviously the hardest, which is where I am now. I'd love to start it tomorrow, but with Christmas and going to Texas & New Mexico on Friday, I'm not sure that I can actually stick to it. I'll give you an example menu:
Day 1
Breakfast-- 2 scrambled egg whites, 1/2 a grapefruit, 1 cup of green tea.
Lunch-- Large green salad topped with tuna, drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and 2 tablespoons balsamic vingar, 1 cup of green tea.
Dinner-- Plenty of grilled chicken with liberal amounts of any begtables from the list, steamed or raw (lots to choose from but obviously mashed potatoes is not on the list).
Snacks-- 6 oz of sugarfree plain yogurt mixed with 1 to 2 tablespoons sugar-free jam or other probiotic serving (again, they give you a list), 1 serving of fruit from the list before 2:30 pm (again, big list).
This doesn't sound bad at all. I'm not sure how I'm going to do the green tea thing though-- I'm NOT a big tea fan. But, I think I can choke it down if it means someone saying, "Wow, Sarah, you look like you've lost some weight!" Bring on the tea.
So, I'm thinking that perhaps I wait until I get back from Christmas vacation to begin this given that I know my Mom (who is VERY skinny by the way... this is not a genetic problem) has ordered ham and scalloped potatoes. God, any type of potato that's sliced, diced, mashed, or covered in cheese and I am done-zo. That's the midwest-kid in me.
So, I'd like to hear your thoughts... to begin the diet or not to begin.
Just so you all know, I'm trying not to think of the giant caramel snow-cap covered apple in my fridge right now. I think I heard it say my name.
That's all for tonight folks-- I need to watch the Bears clinch the division. BEAR DOWN CHICAGO BEARS! :)
PS. Here's a thought for you-- when I was shopping with my good friend Kelly and her Mom last weekend, we went to Nordstrom Rack. Kelly was looking for some cute new underwear and we discovered that many of the cute silky/lacy/would-never-actually-let-anyone-see-me-in-one thongs are "one size fit all." One size fits all? It should say one size fits some skinny bitches who don't eat very much and need me to shove a Big Mac down their throats. One size fits all. Ha! If that doesn't make you think...
Have a great day, night, afternoon! Until tomorrow.
Love,
S.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
... Stay Tuned
I went to the gym. But I'm too tired to blog. Huge press conference today at work, so I will write a double-decker update tomorrow. Much like the double-decker sandwhich I would love to eat right now.
Nighty night folks.
Nighty night folks.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
And the biggest loser is...
Heart pumpin' jam: OAR, Crazy Game of Poker... twice.
Weight: 192 pounds
Pants Size: Size 14... ahhhhhh!
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations (about 2.25 miles). Bike: 1.5 miles.
Breakfast: Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte, apple"
Lunch: Whole-Sum at the cafeteria, which is supposed to be 600 calories (1 microscopic chicken kebab, butternut squash, green beans, polenta). But, the squash and green beans had little onions that I did not see before I chose... so really, I think I only ate about 300 calories worth of said Whole-Sum lunch.
Dinner: Turkey, smashed cauliflower, a few real slices of sweet potato... not yams. Yams are orange. Real sweet potatoes are yellow. Peas. 1 small dinner roll.
Water: not nearly enough. 2 water bottles. Going to work on that tomorrow.
Well, I have to say... after not working out Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, I was feeling pretty guilty today. Not guilty enough to take 3-flights of stairs more than once today, but guilty nonetheless.
I'm writing a bit later than I usually do because I've been sucked into the Biggest Loser Season Finale. For Pete's sake, those people are unbelievable. The guy that's the #1 at-home contestant right now has lost 185 pounds or something ridiculous. He looks good, but boy, that's a lot of extra-swingy skin. If he had skin removal surgery, he might be another 35 pounds lighter. They probably make you sign something beforehand so you don't do that. Oh, no, wait... the winner-- who was one of my favorite guys on the show all season-- lost 213 pounds. He lost me and half one of my dogs. Crap. I need to go back to the gym.
I am also glued to the news breaks that are hinting at the possibility of snow for Thursday night. Ahhhh, my life will now be consumed with nothing but hourly weather service checks. I am the resident office weather girl, afterall. The Congressman loves my updates. I should have been a meterologist. I would be so good at that.
I was hunnnnnnngggrrrrryyyyy today. So hungry that I thought I might go back and get a 2nd lunch and eat it in the corner of the cafeteria so no one would know. But I didn't. And I went back to the gym. I'm actually glad I didn't gain all the weight I should have from eating like crap this weekend. I tell yah, the holidays was a tough time to decide to do this... everywhere I go, it's someone asking, "Sarah, do you want a piece of this giant, fantastic looking chocolate cake with some fatty fatty frosting on top?"
I have never been able to say no to fatty fatty frosting. I could eat a vat of it. In fact, I was watching this documentary this weekend about this disease that people actually have where they don't get the sensation of being full. They can actually die from it. When their stomachs explode. Stop laughing. It's an absolutely real disease. I just googled it: Prader-Willi Syndrome. For a split second, I thought... "Maybe?" And then I realized no, there must be some other disease for people who feel full and keep eating. Ha, it's called ChubbyFattyILikeFrosting Disease.
Okay, I'm being hard on myself.
I went to the gym tonight and got right on to ellipticaling. And elliptical I did. Then, I thought that since I hadn't been to the gym in eons, I probably needed to hop on the bike too (I haven't yet built up the courage to hit the treadmill again with the shin splints). Well, I am admitably not a bike-believer. It's just not that hard. So, I decided to set a small goal for myself. I turned the resistance up to 6 and tried to pedal at least 12.5 mph. Well, let me tell you. So much for being easy! That bike kicked my butt. I was definitely out of breath walking back in the 18 degree nightime back to my apartment. That sucker is no joke.
So, perhaps I believe in the bike. We shall see tomorrow. I'm really hoping to step it up this week... the weight loss isn't happening like I had hoped, and I know I need to do something. So I'll let you know how that goes.
In the meantime? Kelly, if you're reading, tell Unos to stop e-mailing me coupons and photos of big deep dish fatty fatty pizzas. It's like Unos wants me to fail.
Oh, and cross your fingers for snow... enough snow to allow me to acceptably work from my couch in my pajamas on Friday.
Sarah
Weight: 192 pounds
Pants Size: Size 14... ahhhhhh!
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations (about 2.25 miles). Bike: 1.5 miles.
Breakfast: Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte, apple"
Lunch: Whole-Sum at the cafeteria, which is supposed to be 600 calories (1 microscopic chicken kebab, butternut squash, green beans, polenta). But, the squash and green beans had little onions that I did not see before I chose... so really, I think I only ate about 300 calories worth of said Whole-Sum lunch.
Dinner: Turkey, smashed cauliflower, a few real slices of sweet potato... not yams. Yams are orange. Real sweet potatoes are yellow. Peas. 1 small dinner roll.
Water: not nearly enough. 2 water bottles. Going to work on that tomorrow.
Well, I have to say... after not working out Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, I was feeling pretty guilty today. Not guilty enough to take 3-flights of stairs more than once today, but guilty nonetheless.
I'm writing a bit later than I usually do because I've been sucked into the Biggest Loser Season Finale. For Pete's sake, those people are unbelievable. The guy that's the #1 at-home contestant right now has lost 185 pounds or something ridiculous. He looks good, but boy, that's a lot of extra-swingy skin. If he had skin removal surgery, he might be another 35 pounds lighter. They probably make you sign something beforehand so you don't do that. Oh, no, wait... the winner-- who was one of my favorite guys on the show all season-- lost 213 pounds. He lost me and half one of my dogs. Crap. I need to go back to the gym.
I am also glued to the news breaks that are hinting at the possibility of snow for Thursday night. Ahhhh, my life will now be consumed with nothing but hourly weather service checks. I am the resident office weather girl, afterall. The Congressman loves my updates. I should have been a meterologist. I would be so good at that.
I was hunnnnnnngggrrrrryyyyy today. So hungry that I thought I might go back and get a 2nd lunch and eat it in the corner of the cafeteria so no one would know. But I didn't. And I went back to the gym. I'm actually glad I didn't gain all the weight I should have from eating like crap this weekend. I tell yah, the holidays was a tough time to decide to do this... everywhere I go, it's someone asking, "Sarah, do you want a piece of this giant, fantastic looking chocolate cake with some fatty fatty frosting on top?"
I have never been able to say no to fatty fatty frosting. I could eat a vat of it. In fact, I was watching this documentary this weekend about this disease that people actually have where they don't get the sensation of being full. They can actually die from it. When their stomachs explode. Stop laughing. It's an absolutely real disease. I just googled it: Prader-Willi Syndrome. For a split second, I thought... "Maybe?" And then I realized no, there must be some other disease for people who feel full and keep eating. Ha, it's called ChubbyFattyILikeFrosting Disease.
Okay, I'm being hard on myself.
I went to the gym tonight and got right on to ellipticaling. And elliptical I did. Then, I thought that since I hadn't been to the gym in eons, I probably needed to hop on the bike too (I haven't yet built up the courage to hit the treadmill again with the shin splints). Well, I am admitably not a bike-believer. It's just not that hard. So, I decided to set a small goal for myself. I turned the resistance up to 6 and tried to pedal at least 12.5 mph. Well, let me tell you. So much for being easy! That bike kicked my butt. I was definitely out of breath walking back in the 18 degree nightime back to my apartment. That sucker is no joke.
So, perhaps I believe in the bike. We shall see tomorrow. I'm really hoping to step it up this week... the weight loss isn't happening like I had hoped, and I know I need to do something. So I'll let you know how that goes.
In the meantime? Kelly, if you're reading, tell Unos to stop e-mailing me coupons and photos of big deep dish fatty fatty pizzas. It's like Unos wants me to fail.
Oh, and cross your fingers for snow... enough snow to allow me to acceptably work from my couch in my pajamas on Friday.
Sarah
Monday, December 13, 2010
Always Kiss Me Goodnight.
Today was a free day! And by free, I mean lazy. So no scales, no ellipticaling.But, I had a great excuse... and an almost non-existent lunch.
You see, today, 2 years ago, I married the guy I could never get rid of. ;) Ha, just kidding John! No, no, 2 years ago tonight, I married the person who makes me laugh, makes me coffee, and makes me a little crazy sometimes.
If that isn't an excuse to take the night off, I'm not sure what is!
So, the 2nd anniversary is cotton. Yes, cotton. Well, this totally stumped me-- but not John. He got me these beautiful white European pillow cases with our names in very light beige and then written in black cursive over our names, "Always Kiss Me Goodnight." So fantastic. Not to mention a little bit of jewelry, too. Nothing like sapphires to throw a girl off her game.
So with that, this blog post is dedicated to John. And the chicken parmigana I had for dinner.
But tomorrow, it's back to the grind.
Goodnight. Good luck.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Living the dream...
Heart pumpin' jam: Pretty the World, Matt Nathanson
Weight: 191 pounds
Pants Size: Still 14
Water: 70 ounces
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 1,700 rotations. Bike: 3 miles
Breakfast: I skipped right to lunch... bad, I know.
Lunch: 2 pieces of pork loin, steamed cauliflower, fingerling potatoes and snap peas.
Dinner: Small chicken breast, 3/4 cup of rice, spaghetti squash.
Totally unnecessary and guilt-provoking snack: 1 piece of pepperoni pizza.
Crap. I'm thinking about that piece of pizza now, man. I felt guilty as soon as I licked the last crumb off my finger. But it wasn't even my fault. It was the stupid Intern's fault. You see, it was his last day and everyone at work decided to order pizza from 'We the Pizza' -- Spike Mendohlson's joint. I said no. I went to get my healthy lunch. I ate my healthy lunch. And then, my Thursday turned into a nightmare...
My boss decided to write a resolution at the Democratic Caucus meeting this morning to prevent the White House's tax plan from reaching the House floor. He decided to hold an impromptu press conference. That means my phone starts ringing... Neil Cavuto, regular Fox News, Greta Van Susteran, NPR, the Dallas Morning News, local papers in Austin, MSNBC, CNN... they all want a piece of me. And, that means I want a piece of pizza. So I did it. I ate it.
But I think I worked it off just by my feverish typing. Or, running upstairs to the Cannon Rotunda for my boss to tape a piece for CNN's John King show. See right. I have to be honest, I love days like this, but they drain you. Absolutely drain you.
So needless to say I had quite the internal dialogue with myself about not going to the gym. But I went. And I biked. I ellipticaled. And for the first time since the start of this whole clam bake, I saw a noticeable difference when I got on the scale. Like, I could see new hashmarks to the left of the lever that I haven't seen before... progress. victory.
But I am sore. And folks, I am tired. I'm glad day 8 is finito.
So, I have to sign-off now to go to bed early... because tomorrow, I have to be at work early to walk with my boss to the Senate to do an interview with MSNBC. Tune in at 10am EST. I might try to run in front of the camera for my Mom.
Oh, and can I just say... there are a few people in my office that were debating that the best pizza in the country comes from... wait for it.... New Haven, CT. This ridiculous notion has been bothering me all day. Ok, that's all.
Nighty, night!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The American Dream...
Heart pumpin' jam: Speaker Pelosi and Rep. Lamar Smith's remarks on the Dream Act, legislation to give a limited population of young people a path to legal U.S. citizenship... and the final vote. No, that's not a song. That's C-SPAN people.
Weight: Not weighing myself today. The scale and I need a day apart.
Pants Size: 14
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations. Bike: 2.2 miles.
Breakfast: Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice latte, garlic bagel w/ fat free cream cheese
Lunch: Chicken Caesar salad... no caesar dressing... balsamic vinegarette instead.
Dinner: Mixed greens, cup of lean taco meet, 1/4 of an avocado, tomatoes, a little bit of 2% cheddar, 1 tbsp. catalina dressing, 1 tbsp. ranch dressing.
Water: At least 80 ounces. Woot woot!
Let me just start by saying that tonight was a big win on the work front... the House passed the Dream Act to allow a very limited group of young people living in the U.S. and pursuing a college education or serving in the military a legal path to U.S. citizenship.. to... wait for it, wait for it... have a shot at the American dream. So, no workout music tonight... just C-SPAN-- the debate and the final vote. Now, eyes are on the Senate... as they usually are. To borrow the words from a sign a student at the University of Texas was holding outside the federal building in Austin a few weeks ago: Let them dream. Let them serve. Let them be free. The comments on my boss' Facebook page after 'he' posted that he voted for the bill are really inspiring... a lot of college students who have said, "Congressman, thank you for this opportunity. We won't let you down. You'll never be disappointed in this decision." Wow, chills.
But, with all this going on, I didn't get home until 8:15... so convincing myself I wanted to go to the gym was definitely an uphill battle. But, I tried not to think of it for very long and just get my pink Nikes on and go, go, go. So I went, went, went.
I really didn't want to push the shin splints thing again today-- I know I need to let those muscles rest. So, the elliptical and I went on another date... a slightly longer date than last night. Just over 2 miles longer. But I got there... and then I actually felt a little motiviated so I introduced myself to the bike. We've never really met before. I have to say, the bike is kind of easy... slutty easy. 2.2 miles came pret-ty easy. Before I knew it, my 45 minutes at the gym was o-v-e-r and I was g-l-a-d.
I know I need to step it up soon... but tonight, I'll just basque in the glory of getting through Day 7.
I also stepped up the H20 intake. My bladder was more than aware of this change. I became intimately acquainted with the bathroom today... about 10 times. Noticeable difference in my energy level though. I think the water and I will continue this new journey together. And, the bathroom can come along too! Yay for us!
I'm still feeling a little guilty about that aforementioned bagel. Just sayin'.
Before I leave you for the night, I have to say that John and I got into a debate. I don't call them fights. Because they're not really fights. They stem from reviewing what legislation I worked on today... and then it turns into a larger discussion about politics. Tonight, the failings of immigration policy in the United States. It gets heated. I get mad. I say I'm not going to talk about it anymore. It's similar to discussions with my Dad. I know it shouldn't get me down, because it's politics... but when your whole day is politics and working to make things better (or, at least in your head better), it'd be nice if someone would agree with one thing I agreed in. Or, maybe just to feel like he saw something through my eyes.
Must.stop.talking.about.politics.
I guess I'm in the wrong line of work.
Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer! In other cute news, John went to the doctor today and spent 30 minutes reading a pregnancy magazine. He was very excited to learn about some maternity clothes rental service... and a little bummed to read about post-partum in fathers. No, I am not pregnant. Ha. Which makes this all even funnier.
Okay, so I'm pretty exhausted. Over and out.
Weight: Not weighing myself today. The scale and I need a day apart.
Pants Size: 14
Treadmill: 0. Elliptical: 3,000 rotations. Bike: 2.2 miles.
Breakfast: Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice latte, garlic bagel w/ fat free cream cheese
Lunch: Chicken Caesar salad... no caesar dressing... balsamic vinegarette instead.
Dinner: Mixed greens, cup of lean taco meet, 1/4 of an avocado, tomatoes, a little bit of 2% cheddar, 1 tbsp. catalina dressing, 1 tbsp. ranch dressing.
Water: At least 80 ounces. Woot woot!
Let me just start by saying that tonight was a big win on the work front... the House passed the Dream Act to allow a very limited group of young people living in the U.S. and pursuing a college education or serving in the military a legal path to U.S. citizenship.. to... wait for it, wait for it... have a shot at the American dream. So, no workout music tonight... just C-SPAN-- the debate and the final vote. Now, eyes are on the Senate... as they usually are. To borrow the words from a sign a student at the University of Texas was holding outside the federal building in Austin a few weeks ago: Let them dream. Let them serve. Let them be free. The comments on my boss' Facebook page after 'he' posted that he voted for the bill are really inspiring... a lot of college students who have said, "Congressman, thank you for this opportunity. We won't let you down. You'll never be disappointed in this decision." Wow, chills.
But, with all this going on, I didn't get home until 8:15... so convincing myself I wanted to go to the gym was definitely an uphill battle. But, I tried not to think of it for very long and just get my pink Nikes on and go, go, go. So I went, went, went.
I really didn't want to push the shin splints thing again today-- I know I need to let those muscles rest. So, the elliptical and I went on another date... a slightly longer date than last night. Just over 2 miles longer. But I got there... and then I actually felt a little motiviated so I introduced myself to the bike. We've never really met before. I have to say, the bike is kind of easy... slutty easy. 2.2 miles came pret-ty easy. Before I knew it, my 45 minutes at the gym was o-v-e-r and I was g-l-a-d.
I know I need to step it up soon... but tonight, I'll just basque in the glory of getting through Day 7.
I also stepped up the H20 intake. My bladder was more than aware of this change. I became intimately acquainted with the bathroom today... about 10 times. Noticeable difference in my energy level though. I think the water and I will continue this new journey together. And, the bathroom can come along too! Yay for us!
I'm still feeling a little guilty about that aforementioned bagel. Just sayin'.
Before I leave you for the night, I have to say that John and I got into a debate. I don't call them fights. Because they're not really fights. They stem from reviewing what legislation I worked on today... and then it turns into a larger discussion about politics. Tonight, the failings of immigration policy in the United States. It gets heated. I get mad. I say I'm not going to talk about it anymore. It's similar to discussions with my Dad. I know it shouldn't get me down, because it's politics... but when your whole day is politics and working to make things better (or, at least in your head better), it'd be nice if someone would agree with one thing I agreed in. Or, maybe just to feel like he saw something through my eyes.
Must.stop.talking.about.politics.
I guess I'm in the wrong line of work.
Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer! In other cute news, John went to the doctor today and spent 30 minutes reading a pregnancy magazine. He was very excited to learn about some maternity clothes rental service... and a little bummed to read about post-partum in fathers. No, I am not pregnant. Ha. Which makes this all even funnier.
Okay, so I'm pretty exhausted. Over and out.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Shin splints? There's an app for that!
Heart Pumpin' Jam: Mean, Taylor Swift.
Weight: 195 pounds. Poop.
Mood: Slightly defeated.
Treadmill: 1 mile, Elliptical: 1,197 (I am told 1,320 revolutions is a mile)
Pants size: 14
Breakfast: None... I got a cholesterol test at the doctor today and they didn't let me eat beforehand.
Lunch: Yellow squash, chicken florentine (stuffed with spinach, but it had a little bit of some cream sauce on it. Fail).
Dinner: Homemade cobb salad (spring mix, 2 hard boiled eggs, 1/2 an avocado, 1/2 a cup of grilled chicken breast, tomatoes, cucumbers, 1/4 cup 2% cheese, 2 tbsp. peppercorn dressing).
Well... I went to the doctor this morning. The girl who took me back for the normal chat before the uncomfortable part of the visit was obviously in a hurry. At 7:45 in the morning, I didn't understand why she was in a hurry, nor did I have the energy to question it. She had me get on the scale still wearing my coat and uggs. I hate the stupid doctor's office scales. Either I look lighter than I really am or they don't want to hurt my feelings, because they always start at the 100 pound interval that only goes up to 150. When they get to 150, they always say something stupid that makes me want to put a gun to my head, like, "Oh, next one!"
She might as well have said, "Not so fast fatty!"
Then, they take it up to the 150 interval that goes up to 200 pounds... and they move that damn weight so slowly as if they somehow think after 100 years in service, it has malfunctioned. She got to 195 before the little lever balanced out.
She said: "Look at that!"
I said, "Oh, I've seen it."
"Good for you, you weigh exactly the same as you did last year!"
Now, this would be the acceptable proclamation if I weighed 120 pounds. But when you're 195 (with a coat and uggs on, though!), there's no reason to praise me for "maintaining."
She might as well have said, "Great job whale! You're still a whale!"
So, there you go. We're going to officially say 195. My scale at home is 5 pounds heavy. The scale at the gym is 15 pounds light. F M L. I didn't realize that this weight loss thing was going to require a math degree.
I have to be honest. That stupid 1-9-5 threw me off my game a little bit today. I know it's day 6 officially, but I had really hoped I would see a little more progress. Given, I feel better about myself knowing that I am morphing into one of those aliens that goes to the gym more than twice a year. But, honest? I wish there was something more to show for the miles that I've gone. But, I'm still going. Still moving. Still trucking. Still going through an abnormal amount of the clear, slimy deodorant that John bought me (he tries... but he knows I hate the clear slimy stuff... I prefer the good old fashioned stick. Oh well, considering I wore Old Spice last week while I was out of mine, I'll take it).
So, before I went to the gym tonight, I read up on shin splints because last night was painfully miserable on the treadmill-- to the point where I almost couldn't finish. So, I YouTubed video of stretches to help the pain. And, I did them all! Thoroughly. But, I also read that shin splits are actually damage to the muscles in the front of your legs... it's not just that you didn't stretch enough. And the cure? You have to rest them to let the muscle heal.
Rest? Are you kidding? I'm on a mission, man. So, I decided to do the stretches, cross my fingers, and leap.
Probably a bad idea. I could barely make it the first mile. I got to the end... but again, I was slamming my feet down so hard that there was noticeably something wrong. The girl walking next to me actually asked if I was okay.
Okay? Sure. Mortified? Absolutely.
I can't even speed walk correctly.
So, when I made it to the mile marker, I decided that I'd switch to the elliptical, which does not hurt my shins at all. So, I did that for another 12 minutes or so until I felt I was sweating a sufficient amount. And then I ventured out into the 25 degree night and went home.
So, all in all... not a great night at the gym. I don't know why I'm saying that, but I'm being honest. I was about 30 minutes of cardio, which is what I normally do, but it didn't feel the same. The shin splints have really thrown me for a loop. But, I guess for them to get better, I need to rest those muscles... which means no treadmill and a lot of elliptical-ing. I guess tomorrow, I'm going to have to step it up to 40 minutes on that stupid mofo.
I'm also trying to figure out how I can perhaps do the gym 3 nights a week and maybe do some sort of class for at least another 1 or 2... something that is as effective, or more effective, as going to the gym. I wish it was a class about sitting on the couch, cleaning my bathrooms, and eating a huge bowl of mashed potatoes all at the same time while burning 1,000 calories.
I wish my 17 Day Diet book had arrived. It has not.
But, I will tell you that the doctor confirmed I am not drinking nearly enough water in a day and that could be a huge part of being successful at weight loss (Props Kristin-- you said it, I knew you were right, but now I have no excuses). So, I'm going to start really making an effort to drink at least 72 ounces (the doctor said more like 80). I'll have to add how many times I have to say, "Excuse me Congressman, I have to take a leak" to my list up there at the top.
Day 6? Day 6, take that!
Day 7, I hope you're better.
Respectfully,
S. Dohl
Weight: 195 pounds. Poop.
Mood: Slightly defeated.
Treadmill: 1 mile, Elliptical: 1,197 (I am told 1,320 revolutions is a mile)
Pants size: 14
Breakfast: None... I got a cholesterol test at the doctor today and they didn't let me eat beforehand.
Lunch: Yellow squash, chicken florentine (stuffed with spinach, but it had a little bit of some cream sauce on it. Fail).
Dinner: Homemade cobb salad (spring mix, 2 hard boiled eggs, 1/2 an avocado, 1/2 a cup of grilled chicken breast, tomatoes, cucumbers, 1/4 cup 2% cheese, 2 tbsp. peppercorn dressing).
Well... I went to the doctor this morning. The girl who took me back for the normal chat before the uncomfortable part of the visit was obviously in a hurry. At 7:45 in the morning, I didn't understand why she was in a hurry, nor did I have the energy to question it. She had me get on the scale still wearing my coat and uggs. I hate the stupid doctor's office scales. Either I look lighter than I really am or they don't want to hurt my feelings, because they always start at the 100 pound interval that only goes up to 150. When they get to 150, they always say something stupid that makes me want to put a gun to my head, like, "Oh, next one!"
She might as well have said, "Not so fast fatty!"
Then, they take it up to the 150 interval that goes up to 200 pounds... and they move that damn weight so slowly as if they somehow think after 100 years in service, it has malfunctioned. She got to 195 before the little lever balanced out.
She said: "Look at that!"
I said, "Oh, I've seen it."
"Good for you, you weigh exactly the same as you did last year!"
Now, this would be the acceptable proclamation if I weighed 120 pounds. But when you're 195 (with a coat and uggs on, though!), there's no reason to praise me for "maintaining."
She might as well have said, "Great job whale! You're still a whale!"
So, there you go. We're going to officially say 195. My scale at home is 5 pounds heavy. The scale at the gym is 15 pounds light. F M L. I didn't realize that this weight loss thing was going to require a math degree.
I have to be honest. That stupid 1-9-5 threw me off my game a little bit today. I know it's day 6 officially, but I had really hoped I would see a little more progress. Given, I feel better about myself knowing that I am morphing into one of those aliens that goes to the gym more than twice a year. But, honest? I wish there was something more to show for the miles that I've gone. But, I'm still going. Still moving. Still trucking. Still going through an abnormal amount of the clear, slimy deodorant that John bought me (he tries... but he knows I hate the clear slimy stuff... I prefer the good old fashioned stick. Oh well, considering I wore Old Spice last week while I was out of mine, I'll take it).
So, before I went to the gym tonight, I read up on shin splints because last night was painfully miserable on the treadmill-- to the point where I almost couldn't finish. So, I YouTubed video of stretches to help the pain. And, I did them all! Thoroughly. But, I also read that shin splits are actually damage to the muscles in the front of your legs... it's not just that you didn't stretch enough. And the cure? You have to rest them to let the muscle heal.
Rest? Are you kidding? I'm on a mission, man. So, I decided to do the stretches, cross my fingers, and leap.
Probably a bad idea. I could barely make it the first mile. I got to the end... but again, I was slamming my feet down so hard that there was noticeably something wrong. The girl walking next to me actually asked if I was okay.
Okay? Sure. Mortified? Absolutely.
I can't even speed walk correctly.
So, when I made it to the mile marker, I decided that I'd switch to the elliptical, which does not hurt my shins at all. So, I did that for another 12 minutes or so until I felt I was sweating a sufficient amount. And then I ventured out into the 25 degree night and went home.
So, all in all... not a great night at the gym. I don't know why I'm saying that, but I'm being honest. I was about 30 minutes of cardio, which is what I normally do, but it didn't feel the same. The shin splints have really thrown me for a loop. But, I guess for them to get better, I need to rest those muscles... which means no treadmill and a lot of elliptical-ing. I guess tomorrow, I'm going to have to step it up to 40 minutes on that stupid mofo.
I'm also trying to figure out how I can perhaps do the gym 3 nights a week and maybe do some sort of class for at least another 1 or 2... something that is as effective, or more effective, as going to the gym. I wish it was a class about sitting on the couch, cleaning my bathrooms, and eating a huge bowl of mashed potatoes all at the same time while burning 1,000 calories.
I wish my 17 Day Diet book had arrived. It has not.
But, I will tell you that the doctor confirmed I am not drinking nearly enough water in a day and that could be a huge part of being successful at weight loss (Props Kristin-- you said it, I knew you were right, but now I have no excuses). So, I'm going to start really making an effort to drink at least 72 ounces (the doctor said more like 80). I'll have to add how many times I have to say, "Excuse me Congressman, I have to take a leak" to my list up there at the top.
Day 6? Day 6, take that!
Day 7, I hope you're better.
Respectfully,
S. Dohl
Monday, December 6, 2010
The smell of underpaid labor in the evening...
Heart pumpin' jam: Punk Rock Princess, Something Corporate
Mood: Sleepy
Weight: ... TBD @ the Doctor's tomorrow morning
Pants size: Still 14... but read below
Treadmill: 1.02 miles, Elliptical: 1,527 rotations (32 minutes total)
Breakfast: Banana and Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte
Lunch: Chicken satay, a tiny bit of pork, black beans, olive oil and vinegar coleslaw, diet pepsi
Dinner: Vegtable soup, water
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaackkkkkkkk. Okay, so full disclosure: I didn't work out this weekend. I'm pretty disappointed that I didn't... but I have to tell you, I was sore all weekend. Everyone, everyone, everyone told me to take a break. I'm sure they didn't mean Friday-Sunday, but well, what can yah do.
In other news, my Mom got me new shoes! Yes! New. Work. Out. Shoes. The dogs were very impressed with them. John said, "I think they can smell the underpaid labor."
True John, true.
Have I ever mentioned that my dogs are actually part of the reason I started doing this whole fat to fab thing? You know how they say you start to look like your dog after a while? Well, I have two dogs... Horton and Blue. It just so happens that when John and I walk the dogs, I usually take Blue... he's slower. He doesn't pull as much. He eats poop. It occurred to me that this must be quite the site to passebys... John in his tall-ish, lanky glory walking Horton the tall, lanky bluetick coonhound. Me walking the stubby (this is not an insult... he's 14" tall), poky, un-athletic Basset Hound Blue. Please, no one tell Blue I said this... but I was worried that I was becoming the basset hound. When really, I need to be the Grey Hound... but cuter and less frightening.
So tonight at the gym... tonight at the gym. It was the first time since I started that I got there before 8pm... I thought this could either be good or bad. I'm not sure I want more time to workout. But, it was good. I decided that I'd do the elliptical, so I did it... for about 20 minutes and just over 1,500 spins... ellipticals... whatever the hell they are. Then, I thought... well, I'm feeling pretty good, lets make this a double-header and hit the treadmill. So I hit the treadmill. I got 1/2 a mile in when a certain wonderful Austinite called to chat. I have to be honest... I almost fell. First, when I tried to jump on the sides of the treadmill. Second, when I jumped back on thinking it was still going at my 4.0 pace when in reality, it had moved itself to a 0.0 pace. I caught myself. Barely. Much to the amusement of the guy running next to me who was unfortunately not wearing deodorant.
But, I got back on and did the last 1/2 of my mile. But man, I have to be honest... I got some pretty intense shin-splints. YES, Moooom, I stretched. But it got to the point for the last lap where I was having a pretty hard time lifting my feet. Seriously. And, when I walked back to my apartment, I looked like I was either trying to walk like a duck or make fun of an adult who is trying to learn to walk after a horrific car accident. Either way, I was hoping, wishing, praying that someone didn't see me. I got back safely. Seemingly unnoticed.
So, officially day 5 of the workout. Daaaaay 5. Pretty much like day 1, except I knew how to turn on the treadmill.
Here's an exciting update for you all though... this weekend, we went out to dinner with John's family. While I was getting dressed, I tried on my most favorite red Ann Taylor skirt that I used to wear when I was the hostess with the mostest at Ruth's Chris-- when Newt Gingrich didn't tip me for coat check (but that's a story for another time!). And guess what.
No, I didn't tear it.
I zipped it! I swear, I have never been so in love with the person who invented the zipper than right at that moment. Now, it wasn't truly wearable. Not if I was going to eat anything... or sit down. But it was close. Like, I can see Russia from my house, close.
And with that, I will leave you. And, I'll see you tomorrow. If you are lucky.
Oh, oh... we'll get an official weigh in at the doctor tomorrow morning. Not to worry... you can laugh or feel good about your own weight then!
Mood: Sleepy
Weight: ... TBD @ the Doctor's tomorrow morning
Pants size: Still 14... but read below
Treadmill: 1.02 miles, Elliptical: 1,527 rotations (32 minutes total)
Breakfast: Banana and Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte
Lunch: Chicken satay, a tiny bit of pork, black beans, olive oil and vinegar coleslaw, diet pepsi
Dinner: Vegtable soup, water
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaackkkkkkkk. Okay, so full disclosure: I didn't work out this weekend. I'm pretty disappointed that I didn't... but I have to tell you, I was sore all weekend. Everyone, everyone, everyone told me to take a break. I'm sure they didn't mean Friday-Sunday, but well, what can yah do.
In other news, my Mom got me new shoes! Yes! New. Work. Out. Shoes. The dogs were very impressed with them. John said, "I think they can smell the underpaid labor."
True John, true.
Have I ever mentioned that my dogs are actually part of the reason I started doing this whole fat to fab thing? You know how they say you start to look like your dog after a while? Well, I have two dogs... Horton and Blue. It just so happens that when John and I walk the dogs, I usually take Blue... he's slower. He doesn't pull as much. He eats poop. It occurred to me that this must be quite the site to passebys... John in his tall-ish, lanky glory walking Horton the tall, lanky bluetick coonhound. Me walking the stubby (this is not an insult... he's 14" tall), poky, un-athletic Basset Hound Blue. Please, no one tell Blue I said this... but I was worried that I was becoming the basset hound. When really, I need to be the Grey Hound... but cuter and less frightening.So tonight at the gym... tonight at the gym. It was the first time since I started that I got there before 8pm... I thought this could either be good or bad. I'm not sure I want more time to workout. But, it was good. I decided that I'd do the elliptical, so I did it... for about 20 minutes and just over 1,500 spins... ellipticals... whatever the hell they are. Then, I thought... well, I'm feeling pretty good, lets make this a double-header and hit the treadmill. So I hit the treadmill. I got 1/2 a mile in when a certain wonderful Austinite called to chat. I have to be honest... I almost fell. First, when I tried to jump on the sides of the treadmill. Second, when I jumped back on thinking it was still going at my 4.0 pace when in reality, it had moved itself to a 0.0 pace. I caught myself. Barely. Much to the amusement of the guy running next to me who was unfortunately not wearing deodorant.
But, I got back on and did the last 1/2 of my mile. But man, I have to be honest... I got some pretty intense shin-splints. YES, Moooom, I stretched. But it got to the point for the last lap where I was having a pretty hard time lifting my feet. Seriously. And, when I walked back to my apartment, I looked like I was either trying to walk like a duck or make fun of an adult who is trying to learn to walk after a horrific car accident. Either way, I was hoping, wishing, praying that someone didn't see me. I got back safely. Seemingly unnoticed.
So, officially day 5 of the workout. Daaaaay 5. Pretty much like day 1, except I knew how to turn on the treadmill.
Here's an exciting update for you all though... this weekend, we went out to dinner with John's family. While I was getting dressed, I tried on my most favorite red Ann Taylor skirt that I used to wear when I was the hostess with the mostest at Ruth's Chris-- when Newt Gingrich didn't tip me for coat check (but that's a story for another time!). And guess what.
No, I didn't tear it.
I zipped it! I swear, I have never been so in love with the person who invented the zipper than right at that moment. Now, it wasn't truly wearable. Not if I was going to eat anything... or sit down. But it was close. Like, I can see Russia from my house, close.
And with that, I will leave you. And, I'll see you tomorrow. If you are lucky.
Oh, oh... we'll get an official weigh in at the doctor tomorrow morning. Not to worry... you can laugh or feel good about your own weight then!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
My workout is her warmup.
Heart pumpin' jam: ... old school ... Forgot About Dre.
Mood: Satisfied.
Weight: 194 pounds.
Pants Size: Still 14.
Treadmill: 2.02 miles.
Breakfast: Banana and Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte.
Lunch: Grilled chicken and zucchini pita with lemon yogurt sauce (377 calories), diet pepsi.
Dinner: 5 pieces of turkey breast, corn, green beans, spinach.
My feet feel like like lead weights. Big, fat lead weights.
I had another run in with a fast food breakfast sandwich this morning on the orange line. The metro was packed and I was sitting... the woman who was standing 3 inches from my face was holding an Arby's bag. I think I would have been satisfied just eating the brown paper bag. She stood there for almost my entire metro ride... I hope her sandwich was cold.
Today was actually a strangely great day at work. There was a lot going on and it all went fast. I made vote recommendations, wrote a floor speech, 3 statements, coordinated an interview with a reporter, and made a discovery on some issue that we were having some trouble with. And, I just got the go-ahead to begin a re-design on our (awful) website with a company that I love. The big guy & medium guy loved my ideas... or they were too busy to mount a convincing counterargument... which is rare. I love that kind of big project... so the next few weeks should be hectic and wonderful. And at the end of it all, maybe I'll get an 'atta boy. Even if I don't, the fact that people will be able to go to our website and realize that we have a Twitter and Facebook account will be satisfaction enough. Okay, I'm actually shooting for a platnium mouse award. It's a nerdy Hill thing... the equivalent of winning the spelling bee in the 5th grade. The word 'judiciary' still haunts me to this day.
I didn't leave until 6:45, and I was thinking that maybe this was my out. But, when I got home, I found my sports bra, my Chicago bears sweatpants, and a tshirt and ran out the door before the dogs could even realize in their pig-ear haze that I was home.
I learned something tonight: I love being the only one in the gym. I can turn on whatever I want on the good treadmill in front of the big TV and I can mouth the words to "Forgot About Dre" while watching some Christmas special on ABC.
I was about 1/2 a mile in when I heard the gym door slam... it almost scared me off the treadmill. But what I saw was far scarier. 6 foot tall, 115 pound, and blonde hair. No folks, not Paris Hilton... perhaps the best looking female I have ever seen in real life that lives in my apartment complex.
Have I mentioned John is no longer allowed outside of our apartment without a chaperone?
My stomach immediately sank when she began to stretch near the only other treadmill, which just happened to be right next to me. And let me just tell you, her stretch made my stretch look like a trip. I have never seen someone with legs that long. They went up to my shoulders. She got on the treadmill-- wearing, of course, leggings and a sports bra -- and started to walk at exactly my pace. For a moment, I was thrilled... we could walk the same pace the whole time. My little stubby legs could keep up with the gazelle!
No. Silly me.
My full-speed jog/speed walk was her warm up. She proceeded to go faster and faster until I could see through the corner of my eye she was running at an 8 minute mile pace. Suddenly, I felt like I was in a Baywatch commercial. And no, this was not my doublemint twin. Now, I figured she was just showing off. But, no, she kept running... perfect pace the whole time. Then, she began texting. Now, I have trouble speed walking and changing the song on my iPhone. I have to hang on for dear life. Not the gazelle. She could probably run an 8 minute mile, write a novel on her phone, and floss all at the same time.
Bitch.
So today, instead of concentrated on how far I was going, I decided to go as far as I could without dying in 30 minutes. It ended up being just a little more than 2 miles. Which is great... only that when I got off the treadmill I almost fell flat on the floor... my legs felt like jelly. It was a pretty long walk back up to my apartment.
But, I did day 4. And I'm alive. And actually a few pounds lighter.
I'm thinking maybe I've caught my stride... and while it may not be as long and graceful as the gazelle's, it's mine.
Okay, that was a pretty Grey's Anatomy-like ending.
To steal a bomb-diggity ending... Dohl OUT.
Oh, wait... wait... I think I am going to take tomorrow off. I'm either going to work out tomorrow and take Saturday off or vice versa. I'll letcha party people know.
See yah when I see yah.
Mood: Satisfied.
Weight: 194 pounds.
Pants Size: Still 14.
Treadmill: 2.02 miles.
Breakfast: Banana and Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte.
Lunch: Grilled chicken and zucchini pita with lemon yogurt sauce (377 calories), diet pepsi.
Dinner: 5 pieces of turkey breast, corn, green beans, spinach.
My feet feel like like lead weights. Big, fat lead weights.
I had another run in with a fast food breakfast sandwich this morning on the orange line. The metro was packed and I was sitting... the woman who was standing 3 inches from my face was holding an Arby's bag. I think I would have been satisfied just eating the brown paper bag. She stood there for almost my entire metro ride... I hope her sandwich was cold.
Today was actually a strangely great day at work. There was a lot going on and it all went fast. I made vote recommendations, wrote a floor speech, 3 statements, coordinated an interview with a reporter, and made a discovery on some issue that we were having some trouble with. And, I just got the go-ahead to begin a re-design on our (awful) website with a company that I love. The big guy & medium guy loved my ideas... or they were too busy to mount a convincing counterargument... which is rare. I love that kind of big project... so the next few weeks should be hectic and wonderful. And at the end of it all, maybe I'll get an 'atta boy. Even if I don't, the fact that people will be able to go to our website and realize that we have a Twitter and Facebook account will be satisfaction enough. Okay, I'm actually shooting for a platnium mouse award. It's a nerdy Hill thing... the equivalent of winning the spelling bee in the 5th grade. The word 'judiciary' still haunts me to this day.
I didn't leave until 6:45, and I was thinking that maybe this was my out. But, when I got home, I found my sports bra, my Chicago bears sweatpants, and a tshirt and ran out the door before the dogs could even realize in their pig-ear haze that I was home.
I learned something tonight: I love being the only one in the gym. I can turn on whatever I want on the good treadmill in front of the big TV and I can mouth the words to "Forgot About Dre" while watching some Christmas special on ABC.
I was about 1/2 a mile in when I heard the gym door slam... it almost scared me off the treadmill. But what I saw was far scarier. 6 foot tall, 115 pound, and blonde hair. No folks, not Paris Hilton... perhaps the best looking female I have ever seen in real life that lives in my apartment complex.
Have I mentioned John is no longer allowed outside of our apartment without a chaperone?
My stomach immediately sank when she began to stretch near the only other treadmill, which just happened to be right next to me. And let me just tell you, her stretch made my stretch look like a trip. I have never seen someone with legs that long. They went up to my shoulders. She got on the treadmill-- wearing, of course, leggings and a sports bra -- and started to walk at exactly my pace. For a moment, I was thrilled... we could walk the same pace the whole time. My little stubby legs could keep up with the gazelle!
No. Silly me.
My full-speed jog/speed walk was her warm up. She proceeded to go faster and faster until I could see through the corner of my eye she was running at an 8 minute mile pace. Suddenly, I felt like I was in a Baywatch commercial. And no, this was not my doublemint twin. Now, I figured she was just showing off. But, no, she kept running... perfect pace the whole time. Then, she began texting. Now, I have trouble speed walking and changing the song on my iPhone. I have to hang on for dear life. Not the gazelle. She could probably run an 8 minute mile, write a novel on her phone, and floss all at the same time.
Bitch.
So today, instead of concentrated on how far I was going, I decided to go as far as I could without dying in 30 minutes. It ended up being just a little more than 2 miles. Which is great... only that when I got off the treadmill I almost fell flat on the floor... my legs felt like jelly. It was a pretty long walk back up to my apartment.
But, I did day 4. And I'm alive. And actually a few pounds lighter.
I'm thinking maybe I've caught my stride... and while it may not be as long and graceful as the gazelle's, it's mine.
Okay, that was a pretty Grey's Anatomy-like ending.
To steal a bomb-diggity ending... Dohl OUT.
Oh, wait... wait... I think I am going to take tomorrow off. I'm either going to work out tomorrow and take Saturday off or vice versa. I'll letcha party people know.
See yah when I see yah.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
17 day diet? Must be bologna. I could eat some bologna.
Heart pumpin' jam: Just Dance... the Lady known as GaGa.
Mood: Sore.
Weight: 195 pounds.
Pant Size: Still 14.
Treadmill: None. The treadmills were taken so I went the eliptical route.
Breakfast: None (I know, I know).
Lunch: Roast turkey on whole wheat with avocado instead of mayo. 1 bag of baked lays (130 cal). Diet Coke.
Dinner: Big egg white omelette with handful of 2% cheese, tomatoes, and John's homemade salsa. Yummo if I do say so myself.
So, day 3 and I'm still going strong. Okay, strong may be a bit of an overstatement, but I'm still truckin'. It was another relatively busy high-stress day at work, so I was stoked to leave at 6 on-the-dot. But as luck would have it, there was some huge track problem on the metro so I sat a stop away from my stop for 30 minutes. It took me an hour and 40 minutes to make it home. Dagger batman. Dagger.
So, I did not really WANT to go to the gym. But as any girl on a mission from fat to fab would do, I went.
BUT...
The treadmills were taken. I was a little worried for a minute as I made the decision to switch to the hated elliptical machine. But I did it. "Let's just get this dance party over with," I thought to myself. You see, the elliptical and I have a past. A history. We haven't spoken for a long time. But tonight, we made up. And I think we might be getting back together.
It took me a while to catch my stride at first. Mostly because I was showing off. You see, there's this Mom who doesn't speak English and her overweight Asian son who is probably about 10... they usually get to the gym when I'm leaving. She pedals very slowly on the bike while flipping through the TV channels and makes her overweight Asian son do half-an-hour on the treadmill. Well, this time as I mentioned, the treadmills were taken. So the overweight Asian son had to get acquainted with the elliptical machine tonight, too. Well, I couldn't let this little butterball of a child show me up... so I was elliptical-ing like I have never elliptical-ed before. NASCAR style. I figured out really quickly that I could only keep that up for about 45 seconds before I had to slow it down. So, I slowed it down. Not to worry... the overweight Asian son ellipticals at the same speed I think my basset hound could elliptical, so my ego is still in tact.
The problem with the elliptical is it doesn't tell me how far I have gone. It tells me how long I have elliptical-ed. That was just too painful to watch, though. So I decided to go w/ the stride counter. 3,027 strides in 25 minutes. I sweated more than I did on the treadmill. So I'm thinking probably a little over 1.5 miles.
I'm sore. It works a totally different set of muscles than the treadmill. So, while we made up, I'm not sure that the elliptical and I will be monogomous.
In other news... has anyone heard of this new 17-day diet that everyone is talking about? Dr. Phil apparently thinks it's all the rage. I'm looking into it. I'll let you know what I find out.
I think once I hit day 5 with the cardio, I'm going to throw in some lunges and weights, too.
Then I'll really want to kill myself.
No, really.
And to all a goodnight!
Mood: Sore.
Weight: 195 pounds.
Pant Size: Still 14.
Treadmill: None. The treadmills were taken so I went the eliptical route.
Breakfast: None (I know, I know).
Lunch: Roast turkey on whole wheat with avocado instead of mayo. 1 bag of baked lays (130 cal). Diet Coke.
Dinner: Big egg white omelette with handful of 2% cheese, tomatoes, and John's homemade salsa. Yummo if I do say so myself.
So, day 3 and I'm still going strong. Okay, strong may be a bit of an overstatement, but I'm still truckin'. It was another relatively busy high-stress day at work, so I was stoked to leave at 6 on-the-dot. But as luck would have it, there was some huge track problem on the metro so I sat a stop away from my stop for 30 minutes. It took me an hour and 40 minutes to make it home. Dagger batman. Dagger.
So, I did not really WANT to go to the gym. But as any girl on a mission from fat to fab would do, I went.
BUT...
The treadmills were taken. I was a little worried for a minute as I made the decision to switch to the hated elliptical machine. But I did it. "Let's just get this dance party over with," I thought to myself. You see, the elliptical and I have a past. A history. We haven't spoken for a long time. But tonight, we made up. And I think we might be getting back together.
It took me a while to catch my stride at first. Mostly because I was showing off. You see, there's this Mom who doesn't speak English and her overweight Asian son who is probably about 10... they usually get to the gym when I'm leaving. She pedals very slowly on the bike while flipping through the TV channels and makes her overweight Asian son do half-an-hour on the treadmill. Well, this time as I mentioned, the treadmills were taken. So the overweight Asian son had to get acquainted with the elliptical machine tonight, too. Well, I couldn't let this little butterball of a child show me up... so I was elliptical-ing like I have never elliptical-ed before. NASCAR style. I figured out really quickly that I could only keep that up for about 45 seconds before I had to slow it down. So, I slowed it down. Not to worry... the overweight Asian son ellipticals at the same speed I think my basset hound could elliptical, so my ego is still in tact.
The problem with the elliptical is it doesn't tell me how far I have gone. It tells me how long I have elliptical-ed. That was just too painful to watch, though. So I decided to go w/ the stride counter. 3,027 strides in 25 minutes. I sweated more than I did on the treadmill. So I'm thinking probably a little over 1.5 miles.
I'm sore. It works a totally different set of muscles than the treadmill. So, while we made up, I'm not sure that the elliptical and I will be monogomous.
In other news... has anyone heard of this new 17-day diet that everyone is talking about? Dr. Phil apparently thinks it's all the rage. I'm looking into it. I'll let you know what I find out.
I think once I hit day 5 with the cardio, I'm going to throw in some lunges and weights, too.
Then I'll really want to kill myself.
No, really.
And to all a goodnight!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Two Shades of C-SPAN...
Heart pumpin' jam: C-SPAN House Floor Coverage & Taylor Swift, Better than Revenge
Mood: Optimistic
Weight: Unclear... read below for new developments. We'll say still 197.
It's Day 2. Usually the last day in my new workout plans. I woke up this morning tired... and my shins felt like someone literally had stabbed me in the middle of the night with a thousand razor blades. But, I felt better after I got up and walked around a little bit. I need new shoes... obviously. I can think if a reason to buy shoes for anything-- a new workout routine should be no exception. Right? Right.
I have to be honest though, I was proud of that 1.5 miles all day today. I know it sounds stupid, but I felt thinner. I did. I also felt hungrier. The guy next to me on the metro this morning had an Egg McMuffin in his bag. I never saw it-- that would have been too cruel. But I could smell it. And for just a moment, I thought... it's not so bad being chubby. It was the canadian bacon fogging up my breain. Luckily he got off at Foggy Bottom before I had the chance to mug him for his breakfast sandwich. I was fine once I shook my McMuffin haze.
Work was nuts today... the first day that was really busy since the election. It felt good. It's hard for me to feel motivated when I'm not busy... and I can only propose so many brilliant improvements to office communications processes before I'm bored. I tried to think about working out all day today... I literally pumped myself up so I couldn't make excuses when I got home. I didn't leave until 6:45... home at 8:10. And I still went-- and I found my sports bra in less than 20 minutes. New record. I also knew how to turn on the treadmill... yesterday, it took me 10 minutes to figure it out. Today? Quick like a bunny.
I also thought my boss was going to be speaking on the floor tonight on a bill he introduced today. So, I ran to the beat of debate on the House floor. I must have just missed him speaking, though. I have to say, it said something about the balance I'm trying to achieve in my life watching the floor debate from the treadmill and not my cubby of a desk in Cannon House Office Building. It felt like I had acheived something. Maybe just that I had somehow escaped tonight, but acheivement nonetheless.
Now, onto the big weight controversy of 2010. According to the scale in my house, I'm 197. According to the scale in the gym, I'm 180. Now, while I would have loved to lose 17 pounds in a day, I'm a little more realistic than that-- but now I have a little nagging voice in my head telling me things maybe aren't as bad as I first thought. Then I remind myself that no, they are actually that bad. So, I'm adding a new benchmark. Pants size. Ugggggghhhhhhhh. Epic ugh. I have admitted to you people the massive number that is my weight. Now I am actually going to admit my pants size. F M L.
I know, I know boo-boo... it could be worse. Chin-hair worse. But that's easy for you to say.
So, here goes.
Pants size: 14.
Treadmill: 1.5 miles
Breakfast: Banana and Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte
Lunch: Grilled chicken breast and broccoli. Okay, it had butter. No excuses.
Dinner: Taco salad (1 cup of lean taco meat, lots of lettuce, tomatoes, a tiny bit of 2% cheese, 2 tbsp. of catalina dressing.
So there it is. Day 2. Day 3? 1 day longer than the last time I tried this. I'm 2 shades of hope tonight, man. Maybe even 3.
Mood: Optimistic
Weight: Unclear... read below for new developments. We'll say still 197.
It's Day 2. Usually the last day in my new workout plans. I woke up this morning tired... and my shins felt like someone literally had stabbed me in the middle of the night with a thousand razor blades. But, I felt better after I got up and walked around a little bit. I need new shoes... obviously. I can think if a reason to buy shoes for anything-- a new workout routine should be no exception. Right? Right.
I have to be honest though, I was proud of that 1.5 miles all day today. I know it sounds stupid, but I felt thinner. I did. I also felt hungrier. The guy next to me on the metro this morning had an Egg McMuffin in his bag. I never saw it-- that would have been too cruel. But I could smell it. And for just a moment, I thought... it's not so bad being chubby. It was the canadian bacon fogging up my breain. Luckily he got off at Foggy Bottom before I had the chance to mug him for his breakfast sandwich. I was fine once I shook my McMuffin haze.
Work was nuts today... the first day that was really busy since the election. It felt good. It's hard for me to feel motivated when I'm not busy... and I can only propose so many brilliant improvements to office communications processes before I'm bored. I tried to think about working out all day today... I literally pumped myself up so I couldn't make excuses when I got home. I didn't leave until 6:45... home at 8:10. And I still went-- and I found my sports bra in less than 20 minutes. New record. I also knew how to turn on the treadmill... yesterday, it took me 10 minutes to figure it out. Today? Quick like a bunny.
I also thought my boss was going to be speaking on the floor tonight on a bill he introduced today. So, I ran to the beat of debate on the House floor. I must have just missed him speaking, though. I have to say, it said something about the balance I'm trying to achieve in my life watching the floor debate from the treadmill and not my cubby of a desk in Cannon House Office Building. It felt like I had acheived something. Maybe just that I had somehow escaped tonight, but acheivement nonetheless.
Now, onto the big weight controversy of 2010. According to the scale in my house, I'm 197. According to the scale in the gym, I'm 180. Now, while I would have loved to lose 17 pounds in a day, I'm a little more realistic than that-- but now I have a little nagging voice in my head telling me things maybe aren't as bad as I first thought. Then I remind myself that no, they are actually that bad. So, I'm adding a new benchmark. Pants size. Ugggggghhhhhhhh. Epic ugh. I have admitted to you people the massive number that is my weight. Now I am actually going to admit my pants size. F M L.
I know, I know boo-boo... it could be worse. Chin-hair worse. But that's easy for you to say.
So, here goes.
Pants size: 14.
Treadmill: 1.5 miles
Breakfast: Banana and Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte
Lunch: Grilled chicken breast and broccoli. Okay, it had butter. No excuses.
Dinner: Taco salad (1 cup of lean taco meat, lots of lettuce, tomatoes, a tiny bit of 2% cheese, 2 tbsp. of catalina dressing.
So there it is. Day 2. Day 3? 1 day longer than the last time I tried this. I'm 2 shades of hope tonight, man. Maybe even 3.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Evacuate the Treadmill
Heart pumpin' jam: Evacuate the Dancefloor, Cascada
Mood: Hungry
Weight: 197 pounds
I cannot believe I just typed that number. My worst fear is that someone finds out that number. Epic, epic fail.
So, welcome to my weight loss blog: Evacuate the Treadmill... obviously named after the jam that started this aforementioned journey. This blog is really less about blogging and more about accountability... and my pants, which have been screaming for dear life as of late.
That's right folks. Screaming pants. Accountability. If that's not the formula for success, I'm not sure what is.
I have to be honest... this weight thing has been weighing on my mind a lot lately. No stupid, cliche pun intended. I think about it when I get dressed in the morning and try on 3 skirts, a dress, and 2 pairs of pants before I settle on something. I think about it when I see a thin girl on the metro. I think about it on planes. On trains. In automobiles.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still one of the damn best dressed people I have ever seen, but I mean... I'd be unstoppable if I were more light as a feather and less thick as a board.
So today I woke up thinking, "Sarah... today you will eat less. Today, you will walk more. Today, you will sweat like you've never sweated before... or not for many pieces of cake ago." Yes, I think in pithy litanies. I'm a speechwriter for Pete's sake. Now, I often wake up with thoughts like these... but rarely follow through. But today, I did! Points for me!
So here we go... full disclosure.
Treadmill: 1.5 miles, nothing else. Good start.
Breakfast: 1 Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte
Lunch: Green beans, 1 cup of mashed potatoes, 1/2 a cup of pot roast (epic fail)
Dinner: Garden Salad with 2 Tbsp. light zesty catalina dressing, blueberry yogurt
So today is day 1. Day 1. How do I feel? Hungry. H-U-N-G-R-Y.
Day 2... here we go. If I can walk.
Mood: Hungry
Weight: 197 pounds
I cannot believe I just typed that number. My worst fear is that someone finds out that number. Epic, epic fail.
So, welcome to my weight loss blog: Evacuate the Treadmill... obviously named after the jam that started this aforementioned journey. This blog is really less about blogging and more about accountability... and my pants, which have been screaming for dear life as of late.
That's right folks. Screaming pants. Accountability. If that's not the formula for success, I'm not sure what is.
I have to be honest... this weight thing has been weighing on my mind a lot lately. No stupid, cliche pun intended. I think about it when I get dressed in the morning and try on 3 skirts, a dress, and 2 pairs of pants before I settle on something. I think about it when I see a thin girl on the metro. I think about it on planes. On trains. In automobiles.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still one of the damn best dressed people I have ever seen, but I mean... I'd be unstoppable if I were more light as a feather and less thick as a board.
So today I woke up thinking, "Sarah... today you will eat less. Today, you will walk more. Today, you will sweat like you've never sweated before... or not for many pieces of cake ago." Yes, I think in pithy litanies. I'm a speechwriter for Pete's sake. Now, I often wake up with thoughts like these... but rarely follow through. But today, I did! Points for me!
So here we go... full disclosure.
Treadmill: 1.5 miles, nothing else. Good start.
Breakfast: 1 Venti Skim Pumpkin Spice Latte
Lunch: Green beans, 1 cup of mashed potatoes, 1/2 a cup of pot roast (epic fail)
Dinner: Garden Salad with 2 Tbsp. light zesty catalina dressing, blueberry yogurt
So today is day 1. Day 1. How do I feel? Hungry. H-U-N-G-R-Y.
Day 2... here we go. If I can walk.
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