Friday, November 27, 2009

Breaking out the Velour

The Holiday season is upon us. Food is everywhere...and I mean...everywhere. Thanksgiving was yesterday and I believe I am still digesting the meal...and possibly some of the alcohol. Please remember, I am a total lightweight. I was in bed by 8:30 after drinking a few Mango Smirnoff's. Our plan was to drive to Yuma to see my brothers family and return at nightfall. After a day of food coma and a few drinks, we were in the camper spending the night.

We had a great trip. Our original plan was to have the whole family (+girlfriends) with us. We opted to rent an ark (otherwise known as an Expedition) for the drive as we were also taking my sister and her kids. After basketball practice, flu symptoms and scheduling issues, it was me, Eric, my sister (Lisa) and her two a really, really big SUV. Eric is secretly looking on line for a good price, I know it. He was in love. It was had GPS and satellite radio....and it drove very smooth for such a large vehicle. I keep looking outside.... I know one is going to turn up in my driveway at some point.

Back home today, I pulled out the cookbooks. Hmmmm....what to bake this year? Every Christmas, I make peanut butter balls. Peanut butter is healthy for you, so I don't feel that bad. Now, peanut butter mixed with two pounds of powdered sugar, rice Krispies and dipped in chocolate do not a health food make...but...the base is all protein. and fat. and sugar. Isn't that really covering all the food groups? I feel my arteries clogging.

I want to make something else this year so I went through the recipes. Lisa wants church windows. These are basically multi-colored marshmallows mixed with nuts and chocolate, rolled into a log with coconut and cut into medallions. Again...not really a health food but definitely delicious.

I also opt for fudge usually. Years ago, I lovingly took out my grandmothers fudge recipe every year. It was hand written on rose colored paper. A part of her to hang onto. Then one year, I noticed a strange resemblance to the recipe on the Marshmallow cream jar. Hey! They stole my grandmothers recipe!...The one using....hmmm.... their product.....What the heck is going on here? Ok - I admit it....I was dropped on my head as a child. But only once, I'm told. I still hang on to the recipe; it's still in her handwriting!

My mother was an amazing cook. She made chocolate covered cherries when we were kids that actually were liquid when you bit into them. She made "mile high strawberry pie" and chocolate pudding cake. I was raised with fried chicken, beans and potatoes and tacos that were deep fried with the meat inside (something like Jack in the Box). I don't think she knew how to cook anything that wasn't fried in a pan of fat. For breakfast, she would fry the bacon and then fry the eggs in the bacon grease. It was like a game. You would have to chase them around the plate as they slid from side to side. We would have fried corn meal and then put....what else...butter on top. Does my current weight problem make any sense now? God love her - she was an incredible woman. Kentucky cooking at it's best. She left behind a legacy of music, baking and very large breeders hips. As I've stated before, if we have a famine, I'm good.

It's 7:30pm. Eric and I are thinking of walking into Santee. I need to do something to get my blood going or I'm going to be wearing sweats to work on Monday. Most likely in purple velour, just to make a statement. Try not to get a won't be pretty. Up I go. Hope you all have a good night. I am hoping to have an empty stomach by tomorrow. It's another day and the peanut butter balls are calling. Love to you all....

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Nylons are nauseating

Friday and has come and gone. I lived through it....I wore a dress. For several hours, even. I have learned several lessons for my next outing...

Lesson 1: Nylons were obviously invented by a man....who hated women....and needed to find some legal form of torture.
Lesson 2: Nylons create a loud swishing sound when placed on larger thighs.
Lesson 3: There is no product that you can put on nylons to take away the swishing sound.
Lesson 4: Football games, thankfully, are loud and drown out swishing nylon thighs.

I have several choices to help prepare for the next time I wear a dress.
Choice 1: Go to a tanning salon and get color on my sheet white legs.
Choice 2: Search for nylons that don't make swishing noises.
Choice 3: Wear dresses only to football games.

Another opportunity will arise to wear a dress. I must start getting prepared. I must say, I felt absolutely feminine and actually....shall I say....somewhat pretty. Not a typical feeling for me. I am usually much more interested in going for a laugh than paying attention to my appearance. It was fun. I felt good. I must add, I also had a long muted purple and silver jacket. I love it. It was not only attractive was warm! I will have to find several occasions to wear it.

The night was wonderful. My son and I rode on a golf cart to the center of the football field. He and four other young men and five other young women stood behind individual large boxes to be torn into on cue. Matt was looking at everyone else while he reached into his box. He pulled out a large purple Mad Hatter hat - a very appropriate hat for him as King. He got to enjoy the rest of the night with his best friend, Jesse, and the other members of the court. I think he was pleasantly surprised that he won and I could see that he was actually fine either way. He just enjoyed the whole act of running.

I slipped out in the third quarter with my husband. We had committed to taking our friends daughters home and even though it was not audible, I could still feel my swishing thighs. From the half time on, I was fantasizing about taking off the nylons... counting down the minutes. I didn't have young girls in the car with us, they most likely wouldn't have even made the ride home. Good for us as that would have taken much more flexibility than I have at 45. I'm sure some type of inappropriate behavior would have resulted...and potentially a ticket for indecent exposure. I'm sure our visitors in the car was some type of protection from God.

It's been a good weekend. Lessons learned and hope for future outings. I hope your week goes well. Life is good!

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Dressing with dresses

I'm about to venture into a new age. An age in which I wear (shudder).....dresses. Eeeek. If you have read my earlier posts, you know my striking resemblance to a Hobbit. Picture Frodo in a dress....stop laughing....feel my pain. My friend Loree assured me that my legs do not resemble the tree trunks that I see but then again, she is my friend. How do you tactfully say that to someone? As I get older, it does seem that at some point dresses will no longer be an option. As my knees loose any semblance of shape, at some point they will need to tucked into my shoes. Boots may be a good choice then. This may be my last chance.

Dresses allow for an air of femininity. Those that know me are again....laughing. Femininity and I are not close companions. Although not incredibly athletic, I do tend to feel more comfortable with masculine tasks. When friends were moving, I would be hefting furniture as opposed to cleaning the bathroom. When my children were young, we bonded by wresting in the living room...or in the bedroom...or on the roof. Even with my male staff, I have to watch my boundaries. At a holiday party last year, one instructor made a smart aleck comment and as I was two lemon drops in, I smacked him in the head. Hard. Eeek. Thankfully, he forwent suing me for some additional job security. Several years ago, my house was constantly filled with males of all ages - college guys from our church, high school friends of my boys, or just neighborhood kids hanging out. Mostly males - I have borrowed girls on occasion from my friends. While delighted to go shopping or spend time talking with them, I always returned to my boys satisfied with what God had given me.

My poor husband - you can imagine his plight. He thought he was marrying a woman! Someone frilly, sweet and.....well, lets just say it....feminine. He stood in shock and amazement the first time he saw me pounce on top of a neighborhood kid and knock him to the ground. We then had a full on Wrestlemania session with him sitting and rethinking his life choices. Poor man.

Wrestling when your nearing 46 is no longer fun. My son and I went into a punching war recently. I limped away to lick my bruises and find my inhaler. I then slept for six hours. I am truly old. Since my tomboyness is no longer working for me, I may just try out this feminine thing. Maybe its time. Everyone has to grow up sometime, right? When better than when you're nearing 50. So....I have two new dresses hanging in my closet. This will be the first year in about five that I will wear a dress to my husbands Christmas party. I have always found a delightful pants suit. Hey...before you get the mental image...they were dressy pant suits, not a three piece suit off of the men's rack.

Now this all started because my son made Homecoming Court. This is my second son to make court; social skills are not lacking in my offspring. Must come from their Dad's side! Two years ago, I wore a pair of Plazo pants and sequined top to proudly walk my son out to the football field during the Homecoming game. Now...this was a very positive choice for me as I had to climb out of the back seat of a Convertible. I have not figured out why they make back seats in Convertibles as they only fit a three year old comfortably. When getting back in, I believe I mooned the entire audience. The pants, as I said before, were a good choice. This year I will be coming in a golf cart. No doors. No climbing...and mooning. So.......a dress it is. I going to try it. I may end of scarred for life and return to the comfort of my pants. As I am making out my "bucket list" however, and wrote down sky diving and doing the zip line at the Wild Animal Park, I've decided that I can do this. I will confess, the sky diving is less frightening to me. Someone be on the sidelines with an inhaler and some Valium. I may need it.

Hope all is well with everyone - have a great weekend.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Eating Boredom

I haven't figured out what eating and boredom have in common. They are intimately related. Hmmm....nothing on TV (in spite of having 300+ channels), nothing grabbing me on the Internet, house is reasonably clean (could be debatable!).....must be time to eat. Eating out of boredom does become an activity into itself. When eating for body gives a chemical signal creating the feeling of hunger and we grab whatever is reasonably close. Boredom takes on a whole routine. a. Ascertain that there is nothing to do.... b. list options in mind that could be healthy alternative to eating (go for walk, read a novel, contemplate world peace).... c. come up with valid arguments as to why options are not plausible...d. casually eat everything in site. One way to counter boredom eating? Don't keep much food in the house. This unfortunately, however, does increase your SDG&E bill. Why you ask? Have you ever wanted to eat and had no food in the refrigerator? We have some weird but unshakable notion that we have just missed some delightful tidbit on the last six times that we opened the refrigerator door. I'm sure there is a cheesecake in there must be hiding behind the squeeze bottle of mustard or maybe under that outdated yogurt that I keep forgetting to throw out.

I have a friend that calls me "butter girl" for a similar episode. We were at a friends house and I was searching for some form of sweetener for my coffee. My friends kept their butter in what appeared in my simple mind to be a sugar bowl. I opened the "sugar bowl" not once, not twice but a total of five times while I searched for the sugar. As for the friend that was taking such pleasure in my insane searching, it is notable to explain that this was the first time we met. We are still friends....she uses me for comedy relief when she is struggling with life!

What is it in us that refuses to accept what we know to be true? Is it optimism? Or just plain old delusions that keep us opening and closing the refrigerator? Has the food fairy come? Has she come now? about now?....did she come now?....You have to laugh. We are amazingly complex yet simple all at the same time. Or maybe that is just me.

I am trying to counter some boredom with a new activity. I bought a jump rope. It's pretty cool - I am short so I can actually jump rope in the living room. Nothing has been broken....yet. No bones. Whenever I want to open the fridge, I grab the rope. I jump until I am out of breath...which is about 20 seconds currently. I read somewhere that one should exercise at least 20 minutes a day and that you can break it up anyway that works for you. I will have to reach for the refridgerator 60 times to make my 20 minutes. No sweat. I can do that in an hour typically. Don't laugh...have someone count how many times you do it.

Life is good. It would be better if I were a size six but it is good all the same. I am very blessed to have good friends, an understanding husband and some pretty cool kids. I'm surrounded by people that help me feel better about myself. As long as I avoid the full length mirrors, I can keep a pretty good mood going. Hope you enjoy a good evening....hmmmm...I wonder if the cheesecake is there yet? Where is that rope?

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The Voice of Obesity

I may be getting hypersensitive. I'm not there such a thing as a fat sounding voice? I drive through Starbucks on a regular basis and order the same thing every day. I am a creature of habit. A Venti iced double shot with vanilla syrup. Notice in my order, there is no "sugar free" added. I don't want sugar free....I want full leaded. So, why on my last visit, did the Barista ask me "Do you want that sugar free?". I must be getting cranky. I wanted to respond, "did I ask for sugar free?" Dear Lord, he couldn't even see me. Do I...sound...fat? Heck...give me the sugar and forget the 2%. Go ahead and give me full cream.

What does a fat chick sound like?, this is coming off of an evening conversation with a guy that is like a brother to me. We were going to be volunteering the next day and he was asking if I already had an event T-shirt. Nope...don't have one. His response? "Bring a blue T-shirt then because all I have is Large and I mean, there kind of a small large". Ummmm....Ok. Go ahead, bud. Just say it. Listen lady, you're too fat to fit into the issued T-shirt. Get your own. I had to laugh and guess what? I did get a Large T-shirt the next day and it did fit. HAHAHA(evil laugh)!

I am a bit off the wagon, I must admit. I have to get refocused. These two little episodes did snap me back to reality. I do want to be moving in the right direction. I do enjoy the feeling of, while not exactly thinness, thinnerness. I feel better about my self. Now, I did have one interesting and unexpected comment this week. I was wearing a pair of slacks, a short sleeved shirt and a very modest Cami. Very modest. Forty five year old women should not try to show cleavage. It's not attractive. It's sort of....long. So, in commenting on my modest but apparently somewhat stylish attire, one of my staff stated, "your all hoochied out today." Hmmm....hoochied out was not quite the look I was going for. Professional...Attractive...even clean...would have been a better adjective for me. I must admit, however, I do appreciate the heart behind it and the staff member is an absolute sweetie. I will do a double take every morning from now on and put the spike heels away. (just kidding!)

We had a graduation ceremony Friday. I love graduation. Long black gowns are such a great equalizer. We ALL look fat. It's a great thing. And where else do you get the opportunity to quote Dr. Suess. At least all of the students laughed.

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own.And you know what you know. You are the guy who'll decide where to go.”

So true. I'm off and running now. I know what I know...just have to keep putting it into practice and not get cranky. Love to anyone listening. When you read this at times rambling monologue, you bring a bit of happiness to my day.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

The Case for New Clothes

Weight loss is a sloooow journey. I have currently lost about 25 pounds. That may seem like a big deal but when you have 75 to loose, you can only see the 50 ahead rather than the 25 behind. A few people had made positive comments but I was actually feeling a bit depressed about how far I had to go....until....something amazing happened. I had to buy a new pair of pants for work. I was down to two actual pairs of pants that somewhat fit. Now, shopping for me is something akin to...hmmm... I don't know....maybe a colonoscopy. A necessary and painful evil. I once entered a sports store with my kids and had a literal panic attack because they had so many mirrors. If you are a size ten or below, don't even try to understand. You won't.

So, off I go to Lane Bryant. I love Lane Bryant, I must admit. I wear a size 2 or 3 there instead of an eighteen. I'm on the smaller side of their clientele. There are not mirrors everywhere except for in the dressing room. Life is good. Ahhh, but on this particular day, guess what? I was no longer a two or three, I was a ONE! And a happy One at that! I happily bought my pants and a few shirts and ventured home. The next day, I pulled on my Lafeyette Dark Heather Gray pants and a sweater and headed to work. Several people commented..."Have you lost weight?" and "You look great!". Oh my exciting. How addicting...and expensive! Apparently, you can take a size 14 body and put it in a size 18 pants and it will come out looking like an 18. Wearing things close to my body was a bit uncomfortable for me, but the compliments made it worth it.

The next day was Friday. Jeans day. I had recently bought a new pair of Jean Trousers but they had shrunk in the length. I am 5'4" - high waters make me look like a Hobbit. Especially with my size 10 feet and red hair. I look like Samwise Gamgee, sidekick to Frodo. I was also wearing a rather loose but embellished T-shirt. All was well until I stopped for coffee and caught myself in the mirror. Eeek. No compliments will be in my future today, I thought. I thought back to the day before. People will think that I had ordered one of those power girdles off the Internet! Oh, the rumours will fly! She didn't really loose weight...she just had spandex help! I couldn't take it. I had to do something. I did....a bought a new outfit on the way to work. A new pair of jeans and a new T-shirt. All on sale, I assure you but new all the same. I went to work feeling confident...and unHobbit like. Life again was good. Obviously, however, this would not work on a daily basis. Most stores are not open at 7am when I usually leave for work.

So now here I am. Going through my closet. Dumping my old clothes and doing some shopping with coupons, clearance racks and whatever else I can find. I truly don't want to stay this size. I want to get that other 50 pounds off. I also don't want to spend a fortune on "Transitional Clothes" - Just like "Transitional Relationships", they are not meant to stay around for long. I don't think I can put those old, too big, pants back on though. I've crossed over the chasm....there is no going back. And guess what....I've accepted myself just a little bit more now. I am much more accepting of my personality type attributes than my external ones. My body just made a little head way in gaining my acceptance. With some more work, I think we may just find some common ground at some point.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Cheese Fries

I worked at a Little League snack bar yesterday. As your wracking your brains, wondering why the mother of her last senior in high school would be at a Little League field, let me explain. We have a wonderful team mother who sets up various fund raisers for us. This is one. We work the snack bar and keep part of the proceeds. Amazingly, it was actually fun. We have a great team of parents and minimal drama. I learned that if I ever set up a fast food place, I'm offering one of kids Dads a job. He kept both windows supplied in hot dogs, chili cheese fries and pretzels with a smile on his face. When one mother requested to see the management over paying fifty cents for ice ( a LL snack bar?), he promptly took her Gatorade bottle and filled it with ice...without gloves. I was impressed. She looked....I can't really find the right word...but she went away. That was all I wanted!

Remember that old boy scout adage...Be Prepared? So truly important...especially when faced with chili cheese fries. Now, I'm not really a proponent of fast food anymore. I eat it on occasion but not even on a weekly basis. I really don't even miss it. I usually can feel my arteries clogging as I swallow. It is pretty easy to avoid since I bring my lunch every day. Except yesterday. I brought....nothing. For a six hour LL snack bar shift. I take that back...I brought a half empty bottle of water. Matt went on a Slurpee run for everyone half way through and even then, I bought a I did really well until there were three left over trays of fries. I even tried to give them to a couple of people. They didn't take them...which may give you an idea of how appetizing left over trays of fries look. But here I was, after not eating for six hours, dealing with cranky people paying for ice and many small children with handfuls of change saying "What can I get for this?" So here is my confession. I ate half of one. Not only did I eat half of one but I put cheese on it. My arteries are now slightly more closed than they were yesterday morning. If I have a heart attack tonight, please write on my gravestone "It was the fries"....after you write "she will finally be thin"...!

Funny thing is...I probably ate a total of about 10 fries. They really weren't that good. My Weight Watchers leader uses the phrase "Point Worthy". They were not. In a small way, it was a victory. Fries don't really do it for me anymore. Now, if I could only generate that feeling towards Cheesecake, chocolate and Mexican food, life would be sweet. I know I'm not there yet, though. Every morning my brother text messages me. "I love you, little sis" or "I love you like air". Ever since he discovered text messaging, we are in contact every day. This also proves to me where I'm at with food. He sends me "I love you like air." I send him "I love you like cheesecake". Putting cheesecake on same level with air may seem trivial and even silly. If you think have never been overweight and had to consider whether to eat the cheesecake or not. Good for you....(mumble, mumble).

I hit my 20 pound mark. Its still going slow. I happy about that, though. Quick weight loss has always come back to haunt me. In the form of return weight. I think when you loose it slowly, the fat doesn't realize it. When you loose it quickly, the fat goes into battle to maintain its place. I lost thirty pounds when my jaw was broken. Nothing like having your jaw banded shut to keep you from eating. Thirty pounds down in six weeks. Then they unbanded my jaw. Thirty five pounds back in two months. I speak from experience! I'll take the slow amble now. It seems to be working. If it takes a year, a year would be passing anyway. May as well look forward to a smaller 2010. Have a good day!

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

The Truth About Exercise

I need to exercise. I've decided. My weight really isn't budging much right now. The trick is to find what type of exercise to do. I have tried several in the past few years.

Last year, I went to exercise boot camp. Two hundred dollars a month to have someone yell at me while I run. I loved it, believe it or not! It was effective. After a few months, I could run about half a mile without stopping. This may seem like a small accomplishment, but this is coming from a woman that could run about twenty feet before people were running to their bags to get me their inhaler. You may think I'm joking. It happened...twice. I'm a heavy breather, apparently, when I run. After a while, other runners were telling me hello before I ever went past them. They could hear me approach and I don't think it was my shoes they were listening to. I truly did love the Boot Camp but my budget did not so alas, we parted ways. I am still on their email list. At some point, I will return, after becoming independently wealthy.

I once had a membership to 24 Hour Fitness. After working through feeling a bit out of place, I began a routine of 5am visits. I enjoyed taking Yoga classes. The classes were great as long as I avoided the mirror. No matter how hard you try, you cannot turn an apple into a tree. Those that have done Yoga will understand.

I also enjoyed the Treadclimber. Interesting piece of equipment. Part treadmill and part stair climber. All that I can tell you is that it made me sweat. Profusely. And gasp. And have people ask if I needed an Inhaler. A good workout as long as you looked straight ahead. Any veering of your head to the right or left could leave you struggling to find your footing on two individually moving tracks. How do I know this? Of happened. I tried to converse with someone on my right and almost got pitched off the side. After that, I became the lone wolf. Don't talk to could get me killed.

Now I am resigned to using Exercise Tapes. My latest is Turbo Jam. Part kick boxing and part Jazz dance. Very fun....high energy and fast paced. I can kick a normal sized person in the head now. It's a skill that doesn't come in handy often but when the need arises, I am prepared! This is good. When confronted with a dangerous situation, our bodies go into "fight or flight". We have learned that if I go into "flight", I will do fine as long as I only have to run 40 feet and someone has an inhaler nearby. I'm thinking that my chances of survival are slim.

Now, I have noticed that the videos' are not nearly as effective while watching them from the couch. This saddens me as there is nothing more relaxing than laying on the couch , watching a good video. With popcorn. While the plot may be lacking, the action is spectacular.

So on we go....I will begin actually trying to follow the directions on the video and moving to the beat. I will start...tomorrow. It is almost 11:00pm tonight. I may pop it in for old times sake. And make a bag of popcorn.

Have a good night, all!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

The Caffeine Conection

I am by my own definition, squirrely. I use this term to describe anyone that has a hard time sitting still, looses focus easily and could most likely have a practiced psychologist thinking ADHD. My boss…? Squirrely. Some of my past students…? Definitely squirrely. Me? Come to a Program Director meeting and you will see the signs. Don’t put me in a spinny chair and then fail to keep my mind occupied. This could by why I cherish my boss…he keeps things moving, then jumps up and leaves the room. No time for my mind to wander.

Children with ADHD are typically prescribed Ritalin or a similar stimulant. Yes..I said stimulant. For most, the thought of taking that little squirrel that jumps around and now giving them something to stimulate them would be a recipe for disaster. Not for those with ADHD. It gives them ability to focus. It helps increase the inhibition that “normal” (another topic, another time…are there really any “normal” people?) people enjoy without even knowing it. Most normal professionals do not fight to keep from spinning. They sit in meetings, listening attentively, and looking professional. Well, maybe not at the meetings that I go to. Truly, many of my antics are purely because I love to see people laugh. It bonds us together and keeps the mood light and flexible. I have been known, however, to be at the mercy of my brains inhibition handicap at dire moments. Did I really say that out loud?

So where is this heading? Guess what caffeine is classified as? A stimulant, of course! Why, I’m not really doing anything other than self medicating! My staff are all medical professionals. I am now getting why they are voicing fear and apprehension on my upcoming caffeine withdrawal! It’s not mood swings they are afraid of….it’s the fact that I will be climbing the walls and hanging from the fire sprinklers. They feel a sense of responsibility for me. I love them for that.

The question that also needs to be asked is…does caffeine help my weight loss? Look on the Internet. I can find information that helps either argument. It does…it increases activity levels. It doesn’t…it increases cravings. Take your pick. For me? I’m unsure! What I have decided now, though, is to taper my caffeine consumption. This should also help me with my budget. I’ve worked my way up to two Starbucks Double Shots most days at work. This could be my lack of inhibition at work again by writing this. I fully expect to hear from everyone…”Are you kidding?” Let me remind you that I take my lunch every day and very infrequently eat fast food anymore. I don’t have my nails done and dye my own hair at home. Give me this one vice. I’ve been working 12 -14 hours a day for the past few weeks so its been this one little shot in the arm that everyone around me supports! You don’t have to work with me….let me do this for those that do!

So….I’m cutting back next week. One a day for a few weeks and we’ll see where it goes. If my weight starts to creep up, I’m off the wagon. At some point, I’m going to have to learn to use that espresso maker that my husband bought me. Just remember….I will have to be on caffeine when I learn. Otherwise, I’ll just be spinning in the chair while he reads the directions to me!

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Life beyond the candy dish

I have a candy dish on my desk in my office. It is full of various types of chocolate - Kit Kats, Take 5, Hershey bars, etc. I keep it pretty full - I've read that chocolate can boost serotonin levels. This seems to help when a hostile student walks in and wants to vent. They start with "Mrs. Saretsky - I am unhappy because of....." I say "have a piece of chocolate." Now we are friends. I am no longer the enemy but someone to help them work through their issue. Serotonin is a powerful thing. It was either keep the chocolate or find a way to put Paxil in the water. There were certain legalities involved with that one.

Pre Weight Watchers, I was boosting my own Serotonin levels. On stressful days, my hand was in that jar as many as fifteen times. Since starting WW, I have not touched the jar other than to fill it. Its almost a superstition now. I can't have even one. I'm not afraid of the calories. I'm afraid that if I start, my cravings will take over and my staff will find me on the floor surrounded by paper wrappers. With the jar stuck on my head. Have you seen "Chocolate" the movie? If not...please do. You will understand my fear.

Do I miss the chocolate? Nahhh - I grab a Fiber One bar. Same taste but with 9 grams of Fiber. Should I spend some time discussing the benefits of Fiber? Lets just is helpful with weight loss. You put that together however it works for you. For me, its worth not digging into the jar. I feel a sense of control.

Now...If I could only get the same control over my Starbucks addiction, I could be on to something. I told my staff that I am giving up coffee next week. They all asked me to take the week off. If you don't hear from me next week, it's because I am holding my head in my hands, and rocking in fetal position. If you have ever given up caffeine, you know the pain I am about to endure. We'll see how it goes. Someone guard the candy dish....I feel a need for Serotonin coming.

Have a good night!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

The science of it all

Ahhh - the big weigh in today. I am down another .4 pounds. Which now leaves me with a loss of 18.4 pounds. I'll take it! Expecially the day after a holiday in which a party was involved!

Now, it is notable to mention that I lost most of my weight in the first month and a half. The last six weeks have been a series of two steps forward, one step back. If you graphed my weight loss, it would look like a mountain range, decreasing as it heads into the horizon, but definitely not a straight decline. I am beginning to see a pattern however.

There seems to be some nonsense about when I follow the plan as written, I loose weight. When I stray, I have unpredictable results. I MAY loose or I MAY not. Or I MAY gain! Hmmm. Now, it would not have taken a normal person six weeks to ascertain this. But I have a truly analytical mind. I need data. At least six weeks of it. Now, to continue in true scientific data collection, I should try six weeks of following the plan completely. If I start to loose dramatically, will I look back and wish I would have used the previous six weeks in a better manner? Nope. I tend to learn the hard way. I have accepted it. I have the scars to prove it. At five, I learned to not bother a dog while eating. How did I learn this? By trying to hug a dog right after his dog chow was pored. Blood everywhere. Screaming mother. A cousin yelling "the dog bit Sheri's eye out!" But learn I did and I have never repeated that error. Funny what barred teeth do to your memory. I remember this dog being huge! At least a German Shepherd. Only years later did I learn that it was a Dachshund. Stop laughing. It was a Dachshund with a very large mouth.

I learned the hard way not to make comments about my husbands driving. The same day that I made some remark about his driving like an old man, I rear ended someone in front of my work. Embarrassing. Even worse was that when he looked at my license, he said "Saretsky... I know a Saretsky. Do you know Eric?" Oh, yes. Do I know Eric. At dinner that night, I started out with...."Hey, I ran into your friend Jim today."

So...I am a "hard way" learner. But learn I do. I have about sixty pounds left to go. Yes, its true. I need to loose the equivalent of a small child. (One of the few times that I actually wish I was pregnant and I just needed to wait nine months!) I'm thinking its time to stop the "hard way" and just go with what works. I have stocked my freezer today with Smart Ones for lunch at work. I have committed to eating my five fruits and veggies every day and also purchased a case of water. Here we go. I'm hoping to pick up speed from here. I would love to give up the mountain range and just go for a ramp. Keep me in your thoughts. I would love for this to be the only time that I need to be reminded to just follow the plan. Maybe I could get out that swim suit before 2011!

Friday, July 3, 2009

How much do clothes weigh anyway?

It's been a very long day. There is a preconceived notion that no reasonable company would plan an audit the day after a three day weekend. Except the one that I work for. We decided to forgo the three day weekend. I was grateful. There was talk of forgoing the two day weekend - I'll count my blessings. I have heard that stress causes weight loss in many people. I was excited as I got home and looked at the scale. Surely my hard work today would be rewarded in some incredible weight loss. My pants felt loose. OK, I was sitting at a computer most of the day and my large caboose does tend to stretch my pants out a little, but work with me here. Did I mention that it was a very long day? I'll try to forget that I also ate, not a six inch, but a full foot long sub today. Now, before you judge me too harshly, it was over the course of several hours, but it was 12 full inches of lunch meat and bread all the same.

So, with all of these considerations, I gingerly stepped on the scale. weight loss. This couldn't be. It must be my clothes. Obviously. I think jeans must weigh....what...five pounds? That fair. OK - I'm down some then. As long as I plan to weigh in at Weight Watchers on Sunday in my underwear, all will be well.

So...I'm left without my normal stress relieving devices. I did have one small glass of alcohol but that's where it stops. Alcohol can add up to your total daily allowance for food if your not careful. Since I already spent that on bread, cheese and meat, I don't have any left to spare. Chocolate is tempting but unlikely since I have to hit the scale in two days. So...I'm down to my last calming vice that I enjoy but most likely drives my family crazy. It would be singing at the top of my lungs in my room with the door closed. Oops - better grab that window too....sorry neighbors! To make it even more torturous for anyone listening, I usually only sing country. It just doesn't get better than that. I noticed that my son left a few minutes ago...running. Most likely holding his ears. But me? The picture of calm now. My vocal chords are spent. My pants are loose. I have tomorrow off for the most part and the cat has been locked outside. Life is good.

Enjoy your fourth. I will sit in sweet denial that Monday will ever come and will hang onto my heavy pants theory until proven otherwise. Which will most likely be on Sunday. Feel free to drive by and listen to the concert. It will probabley begin soon after weigh in.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

The Connection between Lack of Sleep, Weight Loss and my Cat

Let me start with another medical theory. Lack of sleep causes weight gain. Why, you ask? It’s not really known. Some health care providers believe sleep loss increases our hunger hormones; others think that it changes our Basic Metabolic Rate or our ability to burn calories. At this point, who cares…if it is true, it is yet another evil plan to keep me shopping at Lane Bryant.

For any of you that have insomnia, we are most likely pen pals. I come from a long line of insomniacs. I don’t remember my mother sleeping…ever. If I woke up as a small child and walked in the living room, there she was sewing at her table. She, however, was not only a functional insomniac but she flourished in the late night hours making beautiful dolls and crafts. I am not a functional insomniac. I can handle small tasks like laundry and dishes but if I tried to use a sewing machine at 3am, you would find my hand sewn to whatever I was making. I differ also in that I do have periods of sleep. Lovely ones. I am not awake every night. Well, at least I wasn’t before…my cat.

Let me give you some background information. First, it’s not really my cat. It’s my mother-in-laws cat. When she became ill, we inherited two cats and one very ugly dog…who hates my children. That’s another story. One of the cats, while being very cute, is a very accomplished hunter. We have found the remains of two gophers and sufficient bones for a small memorial yard for birds. My husband has planted a variety of colorful plants in our front yard to attract….you got it…birds. We feel like accomplices to first degree murder. So my husband decided to give the birds a chance. He bought the cat a bell for her collar.

Did I mention that this cat is also nocturnal? She stays outside until about 2am at which time, she must come in. It’s not a request. She knows where we sleep. She only weighs about four pounds but can make a sound when she is jumping off the roof that rivals a car crash. She then scratches and meows right over my head into the open window. I get up, let her in and then attempt to go back to sleep. Now comes her planned revenge for taking away for her hunting license. It’s like a delicate song. “My little bell, my little bell. How I love to ring my little bell. I’ll watch your eyes close and let you doze…and then let you know how I feel about my **** little bell.” She then proceeds to jump on the bed…off the bed…on the the bed.

You may say…Don’t let her in to your room, stupid. She’s a cat. She’s not. She’s an evil entity. If you don’t let her in, she will try to crawl under the door. I don’t even think she’s really a cat. She’s some kind of punishment for past sins. I should consider myself lucky though. My husband woke from a deep sleep one time doubled over…she had landed a body slam on his privates. All while ringing…her little bell.

Can we get rid of her? Common people, she’s my sickly elderly mother-in-laws companion. Could you get rid of her? She’s actually very cute in daylight hours. But in the dark of night, her other personality emerges. And she is yet another of many reasons why I’m having an issue with my fat suit. I got on the scale this morning. I am down another two pounds. I think the cat was watching. I’m not looking forward to tonight.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Set Point Theory

The set point theory refers to the b0dy's desire to keep itself at a certain weight - a kind-of thermostat for fat control. Some are set high and some are set low. Guess which level mine is set at? Now, I appreciate my bodies determination to keep me from dying out in a famine but as I don't see convenience stores drying up any time soon, food is pretty much available 24 hours a day. Which leads me to my own theory, the "born in the wrong time period" theory. I am becoming a firm believer. In the mid 1800's, the pear shape was considered beautiful. The ideal woman was "curvy with big hips". Surely I should have been born the curvy big hip period. No...instead I was born to the modern day anorexic period. So unfair. Since time travel seems to be a few years away, I am doing my best to adjust. When Quantum Leap becomes reality, though, I'm on the first ship out of here.

It's not that I don't love my curves. I just wish there weren't so much of them. If you could make me a two dimensional picture, grab the upper corner, and just crop it in just a tad, I would feel great! Or...take that same picture, grab the upper middle and pull up to make me taller...all would be well. I am however, a 5'4" woman...with curves...and a weight that rivals a high school line backer. You do the math - currently, I'm not even really a pear...more like a rectangle. I gave up yoga when I looked in the mirror at everyone doing a "table"....I looked more like an ottoman. Does this mean that I don't love myself - absolutely not. I actually like myself pretty well. I just wish I could like less of me.

I am on Weight Watchers right now. I'm 18 pounds down. Hurray! With_____more to go. With my body fighting me every inch of the way. In the greater scheme of things, however, the issues seem pretty small. In a world in which people are dying of hunger, I'm fighting to loose weight. Go figure. I wish I could donate a hip or bit of rear end. It would be a win-win situation. Until then, I'll keep up the fight. Keep me in your thoughts. This is going to be a long battle. I'm shooting to wear a swimsuit 2011.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Problem with Sweatpants

I got on the scale and wondered “how did I get here?”

Have you ever looked at those people on Oprah or other talk shows that weigh in at 500 pounds and aren't sure how they got there? And we look also and think, "did you not see a problem when you passed 300?" I've been enlightened. I suddenly realized last night that I know how the weight sneaks up on you. It is all in the fault of ...sweat pants. Hear me out.

One day you come home from work and change into your jeans. It's a great time, coming home from work. You can take all your professional attire off, remove any "help" that you are wearing under your professional attire and what a relief to just throw on your jeans. (Now, for those women that have a weight issue, you know what I mean by "help"!) Ahhh, but on this day, your jeans are not so welcoming. They fight going on, and since you refuse to actually lay down to get them zipped up, you leave some shallow scarring on your abdomen in the fight with the zipper. But, finally, after a bit, you get them on. They stretch out some and you go about your business. The next day, you tell yourself that you only wore them for a few hours so they are technically still clean. They fit fine. All is right with the world.

Then you wash them. All havoc breaks loose again. The next day when you come to the welcoming acceptance of your jeans, they once again rebel. Worse than the last time. This time you have no choice, you lay down to zip them up. You're depressed and to help yourself forget the battle, you eat chocolate. How this is supposed to help you get your jeans zipped up, I haven't figured out. I can tell you from experience. It doesn't.

So....the next day comes and you come home from work. You look warily at the jeans and you once again wear them slightly dirty but technically clean. They still feel a bit snug but overall bearable. You wash them again.

Now the next day, you have a horrible day at work. You yell at the boss "Fire Me!" He doesn't. He does however, avoid you for a week and hope that whatever hormonal thing you have going on will resolve itself before Corporate visits. You come home. You look at the jeans and know that you just can't take it one more day. You search and find.....your sweatpants. Ahhh- and I'm not talking about the sweatpants that come with matching jackets with satin trim. I'm talking Hanes! And how welcoming they are. How stretchable is the waistband and best of all....there is no zipper! Life is wonderful. You have pants that fit.

Suddenly a week has gone by and you notice that you no longer look for your jeans every evening but are now seeking the solace of your sweat pants on a daily basis. So - how do you get to be 500 pounds? You just stop wearing jeans and get bigger sweatpants!