Fried

I had a pretty craptastic weekend. It began with my daughter having some sort of stomach bug and being up all night Friday and Saturday. Because of the lack of sleep, I wasn't much in the energy department and my house has suffered. In fact, it's a total wreck. Anyone who knows me, knows I prefer things neat and tidy. Having kids has been quite the adjustment in that department. So by the end of the weekend, I had gotten almost no sleep, had a kink in my neck from laying with my daughter in my arms for 8 hours, had been puked on (not baby spitted up on, but puked on), my house was a wreck, I had only gotten the bare minimum of walking in (no Jillian Michaels), and had not managed to get any studying for my Accounting test done.

I tell you all this to expose a realization I have uncovered. And that is I am stress eater. Last night was the first time since I threw the last Snickers wrapper away that I was really yearning for one. I seriously contemplated it. I came up with different scenarios in my head that would minimize the calories. I would try to find a bite size one. I would eat only half and put the other half in the freezer. I would make my husband eat most of it right away, leaving me with only a little bit. I'm happy to report that I did not give in to my desires. I did, however, cheat. I ate 3/4 cup (equivalent to 3 servings) of my trail mix that has chocolate pieces in it. And while calorie wise it wasn't much better than a Snickers, it had nuts and seeds comprising a large portion of the nutritional value. A setback to be sure, but it didn't open the door to remembering what that deliciously nutty, chocolatey combination tastes like.

Today presented its challenges in the world of my life, as well. I fared much better in the face of my stress today, though. After having not been to a fast food joint in 5 weeks, I was there twice today. My son asked me once and he had been super duper good all day, so I gave in. I contemplated getting a little chicken nugget kids meal for myself, I thought "what's the harm", but I resisted. I did get a fruit and yogurt parfait (160 calories, 2g fat) and a bottle of water. Later in the day, my husband wanted McDonald's for dinner because tonight was my seafood night. The smell of the fries on the way home was almost too much to bare. Those salty, greasy, hot sticks of potato made me want to rip the bag to shreds and lick the sides of the fry box. But I didn't. I fought through the draw of the aroma and made it home, fry free. I made my gnocchi, asparagus, shrimp, and pesto and it was delectable. Totally worth the torture of the ride home.

Out of the ashes of this weekend I have added another weapon to my arsenal. Understanding what triggers my "eating fits" is a huge hurdle for me. Those nights of Snickers and soda make a whole lot more sense to me right now.

Cheat Day

One thing I've learned from my many years lost watching The Biggest Loser is that you should grant yourself a cheat day once a week. Now this doesn't mean to spend the whole day gorging yourself. It just means you can be a little looser with your calories than on normal days. Sunday is my day for that. It is the one day I have the time to make a big breakfast, which I love, and also clean up afterwards. It is also the only day I have time to really try out new recipes without having to worry about being interrupted. Another reason I chose Sundays was because the weekends are the time I can really get in a lot of exercising. I can actually walk for an hour because I don't have to worry about getting back in time for my husband to go to work. I, also, have time to clean my house from top to bottom, which is A LOT of work. And I go grocery shopping on the weekends. So, in the end, my Sunday net calorie count is usually below my needed calories. Some Sundays, I make french toast, sometimes it's waffles, today it was Eggs Benedict. I have on one previous occasion made Hollandaise sauce, but I have never poached eggs. So, this was a big one. Here it is:

So, what do you think? Looks good, right? They actually came out almost perfect. One of the eggs, I slightly over-poached (is that a word?) so the yolk wasn't runny. But all in all, a good first run.

Now, why, might you ask, am I going on and on about a rich, creamy, fattening breakfast on my weight loss blog? Because I think it is important to not deprive yourself. The rest of today, while I won't "make up" the calories from this morning (which total with my hash browns and turkey sausage was actually only 630), I will stick to my calories tightly. I've enjoyed my big breakfast and for today, I will feel satisfied with that. And during the rest of the week, when I see a recipe or something I want to try that would normally be off limits, I can add it to my list of Sunday rituals. It is something to look forward to on the days when I'm missing my old eating (though, that hasn't happened quite as much as I would have thought).

One major thing about my cheat day, is that it has been all home cooked. I have managed to not eat any fast food (other than Subway) and no candy bars. Before, if someone gave me a cheat day (though, everyday was my cheat day, but you get the point) I would have had McDonald's for breakfast and lunch, a candy bar for dessert, and countless sodas. Now, I really feel invested and while I consider the cheat day important to my sanity, I don't want to completely undo everything I've done. I think that's progress.

Friends Again

Me and the scale, that is. When I stepped on this morning, no 268! I am down to 264, that's 15 pounds since I started a month ago. I have to admit, I had a bit of a melt down yesterday. The scale got brought up yesterday morning, so I went ahead and took a peek. It came back 267. It was first thing in the morning, so I had no big lunch or dinner to blame it on. I'll admit, there were tears. My husband kept reminding me of how much better I had been feeling lately. And I just kept saying I didn't want to be fat anymore. It was a pretty pathetic scene. When I got home, as is my obsessive nature, I got on it again and it said I weighed 264! What the hell? After I weighed myself several more times on different areas of my kitchen floor (I live in a VERY old apartment and the floors are uneven), I was finally satisfied that the morning weight was some sort of fluke. My husband seems to think it was because I pee'd. I really don't know how I could have possibly had three pounds of urine in me, but whatever. So, that brings us to today. My official weigh-in day. I stepped on the scale and TA-DA, still 264. That dastardly 268 is gone!

I do think I am going to invest in a new scale, though. The one we have is, quite literally, ten years old. I've heard they have ones that can also measure body fat. I haven't looked into them yet, but I will have to do some research and see what I can afford.

It has been rainy and dreary here the last four days and I have been using it as an excuse to be lazy. My new official weight has re-energized me, though! I'm ready to get my shoes back on and get another 1.6 miles under my belt this evening. And I will be seeing Jillian Michaels before school tomorrow. (By see, I mean do her workout video that I have downloaded. With the previous admittance of less than stellar sanity, I didn't want anyone to think I was having hallucinations.)

That Feeling In Your Tummy

I am super hungry today. I've had all my meals, spaced them out appropriately and whatnot, but I am just famished. I'm not sure if this is due to my increased physical activity as of late or I'm just having a hungry day. So far, I've managed to stay mostly on track, though I have gone slightly over my calories already. (On Wednesdays I have class and don't get home until 10PM, so I eat a big lunch.) I guess the good thing is I'm not really craving anything bad, I just want to eat. I'm currently drinking my big glass of water to keep my hands and mouth busy, but this hunger is really beating me down today. I haven't felt ravenous like this since I started cutting my calories and eating healthy. Any ideas on what the issue might be? And any suggestions for low-calorie foods that will fill me up in the middle of the day?

I Hate 268.

Because every time I get on the scale that's what comes up. 268. 268. 268. If I didn't know my husband is truly afraid of me, I would think he had done something to the scale. It's been a week and half and it's still 268. My scale does that thing that the Biggest Loser scale does, where it hits on a bunch of different numbers before it gets to your weight. And that makes it worse! I see 262, 259, and then BAM! 2freaking68. I know that it will keep going down the more work I do, but it is so frustrating. You can only remind yourself of all of the non-visible accomplishments you have made before you need some concrete evidence. I mean I haven't had a candy bar or soda in FOUR WEEKS!! Doesn't that deserve at least a few pounds? I think my body is rebelling. It's saying, oh you want to deprive me of the sustenance I have come to expect? Then I will store every morsel you eat! Damn you body. Thankfully, some sanity will be restored, the scale is now safely tucked away in the trunk of the car, not to be stepped on until Friday. Hopefully, by then the scale will have come to it's senses and realized that I will drop kick it through the window if I don't get my way.

Success! Kind of?

I managed to get to the park on Thursday. Fortunately, it was freezing out, so there were very few people there. Unfortunately, it was freezing out and my hands were soooooo cold by the time I got finished. My sweater was also very awkward and I couldn't get it to zip up. I think I will be investing into some inexpensive runner's gear. Even when I'm walking I could use a more body hugging jacket, the sweater flaps uncontrollably even during a light walk.

As for the running...I was feeling pretty good, keeping my walking at a good pace. After six minutes, I started a light jog. My breathing was good but my calves were burning something fierce. The minute seemed to pass fairly quickly. Then the next time was up and I start to run again and the burning became intense. After that my walking started to slow and then after the third time, my feet feel asleep. Like sitting on the couch too long with your foot tuck underneath you asleep. I could barely feel them. So, I gave up the running and just concentrated on the walking (I may have given up completely if not for the needing to get to my car part). After about a 1/4 mile, my feet started perking back up and I did a slow jog down the last hill. From there, I walked the short distance to my car and spent a few minutes getting the feeling back.

So, I only managed to jog for about four minutes. Not great, but four minutes more than I've done before. I'm not giving up, though! I'm going to keep adding a few minutes of jogging in with my walking and start building up my endurance. All in all, the exercising has been making me feel great. But the problem has always been once I get out of the habit, I forget how great it feels. So, I just need to keep the momentum going. I'll keep you updated on the jogging progress!

Only When Being Chased By Cops or Dogs

This has always been my motto on running. If you aren't being chased, what's the point? The last couple of times I've been to the park, though, I've felt the urge to run. The last time I ran, well, I'm pretty sure I've never ran. Even as a child I didn't see the point. So, why now? Why do I feel the need to lace up some tennis...er...runner's...er... do they have special shoes for running? Or can I just wear my sneakers? Anyway, so why now? I lost 40 pounds several years ago and never really felt the need to get all sweaty. But now, I feel like I want to be out of breath with my t-shirt drenched in sweat. Maybe I've be watching too much Biggest Loser. Who knows, but I think I'm going to take the plunge tonight. By plunge, I mean interspersing 10 minutes of running in with an hour of walking. At least that's what the websites I've been reading about running say I should do. I'm supposed to walk for 6 minutes and run for 1 minute. I should do this for a week and then next week I should walk for 5 and run for 2. And the 3rd week...well, you get the picture. I'm honestly not even that worried about physically being able to do it, I just don't want to look like a jackass. I see all of these people running at the park, like really running, like the whole 1 3/4 miles. And I just think if they saw my fat ass trying to hoof it around the place, they might pull an abdominal muscle from laughing so hard. I realize this shouldn't be of concern to me, but I've never claimed to be rationale. (If you've come here looking for sanity, there's a button at the top of the page you should probably push, it's called "next blog".)

So, hopefully, tomorrow I will have a triumphant tale of overcoming my fear of showing all things giggly to everyone in the park. That's if I manage not to break anything or die from an asthma attack (not that I'm making light of such things, I really do have asthma). But if I do, I'll be sure to have my husband give you all an update. Until then, here's to good thoughts for my sneakers...runners...tennis shoes...really, someone, please tell me if I have to buy some sort of special footwear.