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