PMSCON1

Yesterday was bad, yo. I alternately was crying my eyes out over the fact that I’m such an obvious failure as a wife, as a mother, and as a would-be entrepreneur… and screaming like a banshee because the two men in my immediate family are driving me insane and if they don’t give me just five minutes of peace I’m going to have a psychotic break.

And then I looked at the calendar this morning, and I understood.

You see, the aches and pains of middle age, I largely have not. Which is pretty surprising, given the mass of my ass. But the slings and arrows of middle age hormone swings? Those I have in ample supply. How Hubby manages to deal with me on day-to-day basis, I’ll never know.

Sonny appears to be blissfully unaware of this situation, as only a preteen male can be. I know he’s blissfully unaware because he’s sitting at the dining room table right now, providing me with a stream-of-consciousness narration of the crick in his neck and how couldn’t that be a symptom of meningitis? (No, seeing as how he has no fever, can easily touch his chin to his chest, has no petechiae, is not even remotely listless, and oh yeah, he received the meningococcal vaccine last year). And oh, by the way, this cough medicine tastes really nasty, and what’s the point of making a cough syrup that’s both an expectorant and a cough suppressant, and oh! I just saw this really cool looking bird outside and by the way that stray Siamese cat has been in our yard again because look at the tracks and for my sanity this child needs to stop talking.

So, yes. PMS in middle age is fun.

I think I did a bad thing to myself yesterday: I did what I could as far as resistance training goes, and then I got on the bike. But methinks I may have overdone it, because A) pushing myself as hard as I could, I only did 6.9 miles in 30 minutes, and B) my knees are both really sore today. Not the muscles around my knees, either: my kneecaps feel as though they’re… I don’t know how to describe it, other than to say it doesn’t feel good. At all. So now I’m trying to figure out whether I should take the day off from cardio (because all I have here is the bike, and I want to give my knees the time they need to recover), or if I should work through it. Going out for a walk isn’t an option – it’s still far too icy outside for that. But I don’t want to miss a day of exercise, dammit! Stupid knees. One thing is certain: I’m going to lay off the squats until I meet up with my personal trainer and see what he has to say. Could be that I just need to hold off on squats until I lose a bit more mass.

Changing subjects: dinner last night was boneless, skinless chicken breasts with garlic and balsamic vinegar, peas, and mushrooms. Yummy.

And, the numbers on the workout:

Squats: 10, holding on to a door frame for stability

Dumbbell shoulder press: 10@ 25 lbs, 8@25 lbs

Dumbbell row: 12@ 12.5 lbs, 12@ 12.5 lbs

Crunches: 30

Pushups (standing, using the kitchen counter as my bottom point): a pathetic 6 (did I mention that I’m a wimp?)

Here’s hoping my knees feel better throughout the day. And that Sonny stops talking.

All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl. All work and no play…

All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl.All work and no play makes Hot Mother a dull girl. (Sorry – couldn’t resist.)

Yes, we’re snowbound. Well, we were, but by some miracle, a plow showed up not too long ago and plowed and salted our street. I guess we aren’t as much in the sticks as I thought. But I’m still not going anywhere. For all I know, the community center where I work out is being used as a shelter for people without power (as we were until a few hours ago). And I know how native Tennesseans drive in icy conditions, so I’m staying put.

We have… I’d say about six inches of snow on the ground. Which is a lot for this part of the state.  ’round about 1:15 AM, I was awakened from my slumber in front of the television (what? you don’t ever fall asleep on the sofa watching TV?) by lights going on and off, and a mysterious beeping noise. After I established that I was not, in fact, being disturbed by a poltergeist, I realized that the power was going on and off. This lasted about two minutes before our power flatlined. Except for the server’s UPS, which continued to beep. Until Hubby got up and shut everything down.

I went to bed, and slept more than a bit fitfully – I kept waking up, imagining that I was freezing, even though I was cocooned in a heavy blanket. I was also in more than a bit of a panic, because without power, how could I update you all on this week’s weigh-in? I was terrified that we’d be without power for days, and the internets (hee!) would assume that I’d gained 30 pounds in one week and had gone into hiding. More important, I was in a panic just thinking about having to go without coffee. Hello, my name is Hot Mother, and I’m a coffee addict.

Fortunately, the power kicked back in this morning just before 8:00 AM, so I didn’t have to experience life without coffee. Which is a really good thing. Also, I don’t have to worry that y’all will think I abandoned you.

Now, of course, I’m trying to get creative and figure out how to get in my resistance training workout without actually going to the gym. At a minimum, I can do squats, crunches, and standing pushups, along with dumbbell work. But I’m not sure if I can replicate a Lat Pulldown or a bench press. But I’ll do what I can.

Yesterday, after returning from Sonny’s doctor (verdict: just a really bad cold), I started feeling pretty yucky myself. So I went really easy on the bike, and did 6.5 miles in 30 minutes. Certainly not my best workout, but I’m not going to beat myself up about it. The fact that I did 30 minutes of activity at all when I wasn’t feeling great is good enough for me, especially since a month ago I would’ve happily used any excuse to just sit in front of the tv and eat chips and ice cream, y’know?

Today I’m feeling much better, but again won’t overdo the cardio, because I don’t do heavy cardio on resistance training days. And, that’s about that. I’m starting to feel as though I’m pretty much in the groove now. I’m consistently doing well with the eating (but occasionally allowing myself an indulgence), and consistently exercising. I think I can do this for a long, long time. Which is good, because I’m figuring I’ll have to do it pretty much for the rest of my life.

Hope your day is spectacular!

Week Four Results

The results are in, and…

Last week’s weight: 226.2

This week’s weight: 221.6

Current loss: 4.6 lbs

Cumulative loss: 16.8 lbs

After a week that’s been kinda rough on several levels, I’ll take that, and happily!

Full post later.

Murphy lives here

[sigh]

School is closed today because of the Terrible, Awful, Horrible, Very Bad winter storm that came in last night. In fact, the school district announced the closing at 5:30 PM yesterday, before it even started snowing.

Just one, tiny problem: it’s not snowing yet. In fact, the winter storm warning that was in effect beginning at 6:00 AM this morning has now been changed, and begins at 12:00 noon today. But hey – why wait until the bad weather actually gets here before closing school, right?

As it turns out, it doesn’t much matter that school is closed, as Sonny wouldn’t be going today anyway: he’s been coughing for several days, and I figured it was just his allergies, seeing as how he had no other symptoms. Alas, last night he started running a fever just over 100. Which means he is very definitely sick (and it’s entirely likely that he’s already shared whatever virus or bacteria he has with the rest of us – isn’t that thoughtful?).

So the odds are that at some point today, I’ll have to drive nearly two hours to Sonny’s doctor. Why two hours? Because Sonny has had the same doctor since he was born, and I love her. But we’ve moved twice in that time, and now we’re far far away. And I’m loathe to switch to another physician now because I love her, and Sonny doesn’t get sick often. But the convergence of Sonny sick and a possible blizzard (in Tennessee terms) bearing down on us could make for a fun trip, assuming he’s still running a fever when he wakes up this morning.

Moving on… also because of the Terrible, Awful, Horrible, Very Bad storm, I went grocery shopping yesterday morning. As I mentioned on twitter yesterday, I had to do so: I’m pretty sure that’s the law. But truly, the timing was coincidental: we were running out of… everything. And I didn’t want to be hungry over the weekend with no way to get out and get food.

And the last word on the Terrible, Awful, Horrible, Very Bad storm: we live in the sticks. And ice storms tend to leave homes here without power. Hubby tells me that the last bad one? He was without power for five days. Fortunately, we have a fireplace in the living room, so at least we can stay… above freezing if that happens. But it’s a gas fireplace, so we can’t cook with it. Now, let’s just sit back for a moment and contemplate the sheer joy of the possibility of having no power, no way to cook, not enough heat to stay really comfy, too much ice accumulated outside to go someplace where it is warm and comfy and has hot food… while trying to take care of a sick 12-year-old who, when he’s sick, is so neurotic he makes Woody Allen seem like an optimist. Y’all, I’m warning you now: if this shit comes to pass, I’ll be eating chocolate and drinking. Heavily.

Last night’s dinner: Boneless, skinless chicken breasts stuffed with sun-dried tomatoes, fat-free feta, and garlic. I loved them; Hubby didn’t, because he’s not fond of sun-dried tomatoes. But the preparation is so easy, we can find just about any kind of stuffing and use this same preparation for a fantastic meal in about a half-hour. So, I’m going to share:

1. Preheat oven to 425.
2. Prepare whatever you’re going to use for stuffing (mushrooms and goat cheese? pesto? spinach and chopped almonds? get creative here).
3. Take four boneless, skinless chicken breasts. Cut off all visible fat, and then cut ‘em in half horizontally (you should end up with one vaguely rectangular piece and one triangular piece).
4. Using a very sharp knife, cut a pocket into each chicken piece, most of the way through (essentially, you want it to look sorta like a mitten of chicken.
5. Place the stuffing inside the pocket, then press the edges together to sorta-kinda seal it (hint: don’t overstuff).
6. Heat an ovenproof skillet on medium-high heat. Add just enough olive oil (or the non-stick item of your choice) to keep the chicken from sticking.
7. Saute the chicken over medium-high heat until it’s browned. Flip it and saute until the other side is browned.
8. Flip the chicken back over (so the top is back on top), then put the skillet into the oven and leave it there for 20 minutes.
9. When you remove it from the oven? Remember that it’s been in the oven, and the handle is hot. Don’t ask why I feel the need to tell you that. I’m betting you can figure it out.

And that’s it – juicy, savory, flavorful, perfect portion size. Consider it a public service announcement. If you try it, please do come back and let me know what kinds of stuffing you used.

In exercise, yesterday’s workout was a new personal best: 7.4 miles in 30 minutes. I’m noticing that I’m starting to sweat a lot more now than I was that first week. I imagine that’s because I’m able to work harder and harder. I’ll tell you what: just the notion of making continuous improvement is enough to keep me going: I want to keep trying because I want to do just a bit better. That’s a new feeling for me.

Finally, because AFG has had such incredible results with her trainer – and because my little community fitness center has limited equipment and zero resources, I’ve decided to hire a personal trainer. I found one through the ACSM web site, and we’re trying to work out the details for our first meeting. Don’t know if I can afford to do this long term, but at the very least I want a pro to work with me to design a program and make sure my form is right before I start lifting heavy and make my uterus fall out (or other unpleasant side effects) because I did something wrong.

An open letter to fat women everywhere

Dear fellow fatty,

Perhaps you’re considering changing your life by dropping excess fat. Perhaps you’re already doing it, along with so many of us. Good for you! But I want to warn you about a possible pitfall that you may not have considered. Because if you aren’t careful, it could derail your efforts.

I have two nieces. The youngest niece (we’ll call her BabySis, because I have no creativity this morning) is 4’11″. She’s tiny. She’s so tiny that she finally broke 100 lbs – when she was four months pregnant. And she’s tiny, but long, if that makes sense. She’s not stumpy. Oh, she has a clearly defined waist, hips, and boobs (girl has boobs I would’ve have killed for when I was in my twenties), but her arms are long, her legs are long, her neck is long. She’s built like a ballerina, except she doesn’t look like she starves herself.

The older niece (we’ll call her BigSis) is 5′ even. And while she’s certainly not fat by any stretch of the imagination, she is built nothing like her younger sister. BigSis is curvaceous. BigSis is also stumpy, like I am. No matter how thin she is, she will never be long, lean, and ballerina-like as BabySis is, because BigSis just isn’t built that way.

Think of it this way: BabySis is more Kristen Bell, and BigSis is more pre-diet Kim Kardashian. Who has the better body? Well, neither of them! They both have kickin’ bods, but they’re not identical bods.

What’s my point? No matter how much fat I evict, and no matter how much I work out, I will never – never – have a body like BabySis. And not just because she’s 20-some years younger than I. I’ll never have a body like hers because I’m just not built that way. I’m short and stumpy (evidently, that’s thanks to my Irish potato-farming ancestry; where BabySis got this long, lean thing from, I have no idea). And I will always be so. I can get really fit, and I’ll have a kickin’ bod, but if my goal is to look like BabySis, I’m going to be disappointed.

My point is that we need to have realistic goals. It’s like that time when you took a picture of Nicole Kidman (back in the early 90s, before she did some really weird shit to her face aged completely naturally and turned into a caricature of herself) to the salon and said you wanted her hair? Except you ended up looking like a freakish, female clone of Carrot Top? Because your hair just wasn’t built that way? Same thing, folks. So if you’re dreaming about having a body whose type bears no resemblance to yours, you’ll never be satisfied. You’ll get discouraged. And maybe you’ll give up. Or maybe you’ll start having ridiculous amounts of plastic surgery so you can mold yourself into that perfect body you’ve envisioned (see Montag, Heidi).

Now, I have nothing against plastic surgery. I fully intend to save my pennies for a body lift in case I have saggy flesh after I finish evicting the fat, and I’m probably going to have laser skin resurfacing at some point. (I don’t mind the wrinkles, but my pores have gotten larger since I passed 40, and I hate that.) But implants, fillers, lipsuction, all for the sole purpose of forcing your body to fit a mold that you have in your head of what you should be? I don’t get that.

So here’s what I want you to do: get real about your body. That doesn’t mean you should settle for being fat if you don’t want to be fat. It means you need to figure out what your body type is, and be realistic about your goals. If you’re short, you’re not going to look like Heidi Klum (who, for the record, I would loathe if she didn’t seem so genuinely nice and down to earth).

Instead of dreaming about having the perfect body, set a goal of having your perfect body. It’s attainable, and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than plastic surgery. Less risky, too.