Weigh Day! Weigh Day!

Week in Review:

Water: Best Day: 3.5L

Worst Day: 1.5L

Average: 2.1L a day

Not the best water intake, but it’s OP. Will improve next week.

Dairy: Best day: 2 servings

Worst day: 2 servings

Average: 2 servings.

Hmm, I think I Spy a trend

Fruits and Veggies: Best day:11 servings

Worst day: 5

Average: 8 servings a day.

I only earned 10 AP this week, but that’s a far cry better than the past 2 weeks. I’m just coming off the heels of 2 inactive weeks, so any activity was good.

Scale reads: -1.4

To date: Down 20lbs
average loss: 2.5lbs a week.

The way I see it #196

"The greatest leader is a servant. Don't be a boss. Be a real leader, a servant leader.
A servant leader is a winner. Even when he loses everything, even when he loses his life, a servant leader wins all."

What the hell does that even mean? Starbucks has these ridiculous quotes on the back of their coffee cups, that I suppose are supposed to be deep, and heavy. I say they border on Jack Handy. Man that place is pretentious.

Here's how I see things. We get one kick at the cat. One go round on this ride called life. We can either be spectators, or avid participants. Life doesn't wait for us to correct our mistakes, it keeps chugging along. Time doesn't stop while we waste it on events, people and things that don't enhance our being. That in the grand scheme of things don't even matter.

Life is too short to eat food you don't enjoy, fraternize with people who don't stimulate or appreciate you.
Life is too short to not dance in puddles, or eat dessert first. It's too short to not fake a sick day, and watch crappy reruns in your pajamas.

Life is too short to dishonour your body and soul and by abusing it, and not letting it live to it's potential.

Life is too short to love half heartedly, or to care what other people think. Life is too short to not road trip it with no real destination. It's too short to not picnic in the winter.

Life is too short to simply exist. One must live.

I've been thinking a lot about that lately. I have all these responsibilities that tie me down, but have no real bearing on anything relevant, signifigant, or important. I feel that I'm stagnant, watching the world pass me by through my living room window, and that I'm powerless to stop it. And I am. I am powerless to stop it from passing me by, but what I've come to realise is that I do have control over how I react to that.

I cannot control how people around me behave, but I can control my reactions to it. I can't change my weight today, but I can control my behaviours right now to ensure I become healthier.

I'm in control of everything in my life, and that's such an awesome responsibility. A privilege, even.

I feel so enlightened, and I didn't even read it off a damn coffee cup.

Everybody's working for the weekend

So another weekend has is drawing to a close, and another weekend I was faced with a few challenges, and triumphantly overcame them.

After moaning and bitching and begrudging the fact that we had to go to the OG for dinner, I finally figured out what to eat, planned accordingly, and half an hour before it was time to leave, they switched the venue. Dammit!

So anyway, I ended up having sauteed mushrooms as an appy, a huge dinner salad with dressing on the side, had a slice of garlic toast, a mini banana loaf, 6 oz glass of wine, a rye and diet pepsi, and then 2 coolers later in the evening. I'm still left with 5.5 FP for the week.

Today I plan on taking the DD snowboarding and sledding to earn some AP, and off to the folks for dinner time. I've already downed 1.5L of water today, and had an awesome breakfast. (Peanut butter and banana French toast) - recipe will be posted up on the other blog shortly.

I've also decided that one of my major downfalls in previous attempts to lose weight, was letting negativity get the best of me. Often, we LOVE to look at the dark cloud, rather than the silver lining. So I'm making a conscious effort to state at least one positive thing about myself, my appearance, or my healthy changes a day. Regardless of how bad the day is, something has gone right, and that's what I'm going to be looking for.

Well, I'm off to clean the kitchen, hit the tanning bed, then hitting the "slopes".

I hope your weekends treated you all well, and I'll catch up on you soon!

Cheers

Daily menu and other blatherings

My euphoric state of mind carried over to this morning when I slipped on a size 18 blouse, and found it a bit roomy. Nothing keeps you moving like small successes, you know?

The other things I've been realising, is that I no longer even care to eat unhealthy foods. If DH and DD are going to McDonalds, I opt out all togther, unless I'm absolutely CRAVING something. And then it's a happy meal, and diet drink. I find the larger burgers sit like a stone, and I'd rather not feel that way.

There are healthy alternatives to nearly everything I want, and I find portion control is becoming easier and easier for me. I get fuller faster, I stay fuller longer, and my snacks are normally fruit and veggie based. I can just feel it in my bones that this time is the LAST time for me. I will attain goal, I will maintain, and I will achieve lifetime for good. I just feel it. Feels different than all the other times.

Breakfast:

Heavenly Chocolate Toast
1 c. milk
1/2 c. grapes

6.5 PTS

Snack: (projected)
allbran bar:
2 PTS

Lunch:
Sirloin Salad

6.5 PTS

Snack: Projected
Hard boiled egg
1/2 c. grapes
2.5 PTS

Dinner:

I'm still mulling this one over. I think I'll make chicken legs coated in seasoned bread crumbs and crushed baked bbq lays chips, corn on the cob, and oven roasted potatoes topped with asiago cheese, and a mixed greens salad.

Evening snack I think will consist of some smart pop and a faux float.

I'm drooling just thinking about it all.

Cheers and AP's to you all!

I'm a big fat loser

and now you're gonna hear why.

I started back at the gym on Jan. 17th. I had my measurements taken, and they've been taken once again tonight.

I've lost the following from my:

Bust: 2"
Waist: 1"
Abdomen: 2"
Hips: 1"
thighs: 1" (ea)
Arms: 2" (ea)

Bringing me to a grand total of 12" lost in 36 days. an inch every THREE DAYS, ladies. A foot. One third of a yard. A huge frigging hotdog. Tommy Lee's schlong. (ok, not quite)

I'm absolutely giddy.

I started tanning again today, and I'm feeling pretty damn unstoppable. 51 days back on WW, 51 days OP.

I've decided to set a HUGE goal for myself, and that's to fit back into my wedding dress on August 17th. 5 year anniversary.

We shall see.

One down, two to go

So I made it through my Keg experience in tact, and without touching any flex points. I even had a glass of red wine.

So that's 1 hurdle surpassed, two more to go. Tonight is that cheesy alfredo manicotti heaven, and I think I'm gonna do a'ight.

For breakfast, I'm going to have a 3 egg white omelet, with spinach, tomatoes, and a Tbsp of feta for a whopping 2 pts. I may add a slice of toast, or small potato for an extra point. Hunger will dictate.

I'll then have lunch - cucumber salad. So tonnes of cucumber, a bit of sour cream (1 pt) and then a large shrimp cocktail on the side (2pts) I plan on earning at least 4 AP, and then have an apple with Peanut butter (3), and some veggie slices before heading out that way.

That will leave me with a minimum of 21 daily pts, 4 AP, and 18 FP. I think that should be enough. And Sunday, I'll repeat the scenario.

I stepped out of my usual routine, and initiated a second go round between the scale and I, just to see how things were going, now that TOM is nearly outta the way. The numbers are tickin' down ladies, and I hope to meet the mini goal I set on January 2nd. I wanted to lose 20 lbs, in 6 weeks, and there's a slim chance that I'll actually hit my goal. If I miss, it won't be by much, and I don't think it's an accomplishment to sneeze at.

Temperatures are still ridiculous, my dog is still stupid, the DD is not feeling so hot, and DH is driving me crazy. All in all, I'd say life is back to normal.

Judgement Day

I rub the sleep from my eyes, toss on my robe, and begin the fateful walk down the dimly lit hallway to the bathroom. This must be what prisoners walking that Green Mile feel like. They're about to atone for all their sins.

I stand face to face with my antagonist and take a deep breath. He will not break me. I step gingerly aboard his uninviting platform, and watch as the numbers tick up, then down, up, then down. It's like watching the big wheel spin on The Price is Right. You just don't know where it's going to land.

Finally, the numbers come to rest, and the glowing red eyes of my monster show a 1.8 pound gain. That's alright. I was expecting that. Frigging TOM. That lowers my total lost now to14.8. Until we meet again, scale.

Week in Review:

I feel really good about the past week. I upped my water intake, and drank nearly 3L every day. I even afforded myself a nice dinner out, and indulged in a lovely alcoholic drink. It'd been too long, people.

My only regret is that I wasn't active enough this week. Between the insane coldness, busy schedule, and shin splints, I only made the gym twice. I don't like that feeling. In fact, if running leaves me feeling the same way again, I'm going to have to drop it, as instead of increasing my physical capacity, it's severely hindering my athletic abilities. So we shall see. I actually feel like shit when I don't get to the gym, so I don't want to lose that drive.

I'm thinking about purchasing a treadmill, as well. This way, if I do quit the running room clinic, I can do it myself at home, and not feel I'm dragging a group down, should I need to slow my pace. Oh, and there's no windchill in my basement.

Well, a new week, a fresh slate, and a positive outlook. That's all I can ask for, right?

Something wicked this way comes

So I've been mentally preparing myself for the prospect of a potential gain this week. It's such a mind fuck to be gently reminding yourself it's OK for the scale to go up, as you're shoveling egg whites and spinach into your mouth. Especially since your body is screaming for chocolate.

I've been crampy and bloaty for a couple days, and have just rolled out the red carpet for the arrival of my long time nemesis;TOM.

I don't know what we women did in past lives to deserve this horrendous shit that is heaped on our plates every month, but it must have been bad. Think about it. Once a month, from when you're oh...let's say 12, until you are 55 (that's 516 x's, for those keeping score at home), your breasts become sore and tender, your headaches, your internal organs feel as though an iron fist is wringing them out, you balloon in size, you retain water, you become overtly hormonal, crave food that you're trying to avoid and then to top it all off, you bleed for 5-7 days straight.

Now, I went ahead and did the math for you. As women, in our lifetime, thanks to this wonderful, glorious, celebrated, beautiful, natural, phenomenon, we lose approximately 31Liters of blood in our life. What does that mean to you? That means in your lifetime, thanks to menstruation, you will bleed out 8 x's. That's right, ladies. EIGHT.TIMES. And what to men get? A funny looking ball sac and weird back hair. Real fair trade.

So next time your darling insignificant other starts giving you a hard time because it's "only PMS", see if they'd like to find out whether or not they can afford to bleed out once. Let alone 8 times.

That's 8 gallons. Look at the milk jug in your fridge. 8 of those. From your hoo haw. For no good reason. For the love of all that is holy, I think we deserve better than this. Yet this, is as good as it gets.

Bring on menopause.

Stay tuned to me, all this is new to me

Day 33

And life is sucking. It's weird, ya know? I've been back OP (weight watchers, for those in the dark) for 33 days now, and I'm down 16 pounds, which I am quite ecstatic about, don't get me wrong.

However, I find these days that I'm more unhappy with myself than I've been in a long time. I've seen a few pictures taken of me the past few days that have reduced me to tears. It's funny how I still don't see myself like that in the mirror. In fact, the pictures over the past few days I've found to be more offensive to my sensibilities than ones taken 16 pounds ago.

Furthermore, for the first time since I've switched to this stylist (4 years) I'm really unhappy with my hair. I think she did a piss poor job with the colour (her choice), and she cut it too short, leaving me more self conscious than I've ever been in my entire life.

Regardless of how heavy I've found myself, I've always found my face to be my saving grace. I don't care if that sounds conceited, I'm quite happy with my looks. But with this new cut and colour, I just feel gross. I'd go so far as to say hideous. Nothing about me feels attractive for the first time in my life, and I'm having a very hard time dealing with that. Especially since I'm now trying to improve upon it, and when I look in the mirror, there's nothing making me happy. 16 pounds ago, that wasn't true. Now add to the fact that my clothes are starting to fit a little funny, I actually look frumpier, too. Not fun.

All is not lost however, I met up with some amazing women over the weekend and had a blast Saturday night. Shirls (HappyChix) flew in from Calgary to spend the day, and she is one of the most amazing women I've ever met. Stunningly gorgeous, hilarious and inspiring, it's really too bad she doesn't live here.

Mandy (Iwillwin) and I picked her up at the airport, hit the malls, sat and gabbed, grabbed a bite at Rae & Jerry's, then booked it down to Chateau Lanes to meet up with Rina (quit grabbing my ass), chickideefarmgirl (Kathryn, who, incidentally, rocks my mismatched socks off) and kdavies (Kelly, who is quiet at first but fun). I really look forward to getting to know these women a lot better over the coming months, and celebrating their successes with them.

So stay tuned to my emotional roller coaster blogs for updates on my mental not so well being.

And if any of you can give me tips on how to funk out my blog, and add other blogs as links, that'd be rad.

Born to Run

Well, good for you Brucey baby. I, most certainly am not. In fact, you and Wendy shouldn't worry about me if I should fall behind, on Highway 29. I'm far from my Glory Days.

Now, it's not so much that I hate running. In fact, I highly recommend it! Where else can you punish your body so thoroughly in the name of good health? It's absolutely perfect for your inner masochist.

Picture it. Winnipeg. January, 2007. Temperature -25ºC, and falling. One overweight woman with a dream, however misguided. She's bundled in layers, as she listens to the instruction of the grandmaster of pain, Rina. You learn what shin splints are. Now, let me go off on a sidebar here, in case you don't really know what a shin splint is. Sure, you've heard the word tossed around, you've probably even experienced it yourself. But the science behind it is essentially, your happy go lucky muscles, which, might I add, have never done a damn thing to you. They've supported you and your weight fluctuations with nary a sound, are actually ripping away from the bone. RIPPING. AWAY. Right, and so, you do this knowingly and willingly.

So anyway, you step outside, and the first thing you feel is the vicious back hand of mother nature, stinging the skin on your face. Within moments, you lose the ability to speak properly, and sound like a recovering stroke patient. Your tongue, mouth, and gums have frozen. Which, in and of itself, wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for the ice crystals forming on your lungs with each ragged breath you fight to take in. All of this before you hear the horrid sound of the whistle.

Whistle blows, and now, for the first time in your adult life when you are not being pursued by a predator or police, you flee. Your high hopes and dreams are instantaneously shattered the moment your first foot spring up off the frozen pavement. Any ideals of gracefully gliding like a lithe gazelle are dashed, as you realise the heavier you are, the harder you have to fight gravity. Each step reverbrates through your body, rattling every inch of your core, down to those hard to floss molars. Thump, thump, thump. You plod along like an uncoordinated clod, wondering why you hate yourself so much.

Finally, the end is in site, and as you jog past the starbucks for a second time, you find yourself ferverantly wishing that at least one of those smug bastards chokes on thier biscotti, or at the very least, burns their mouth muscle on the steaming cup of indulgence they are flaunting in your face.

Relief is short lived during the cool down, as it dawns on you, holy shit. There's still 9 more weeks of this.

And all it cost me was 74.99