Has anyone seen my mojo?

The scale didn’t move from January 15 through January 17. Today, it moved: up 8/10 lb.

I’m not so much upset by this as I am puzzled: I’m trying to view this project as something of a science experiment, and so I’m very interested in how what I eat / how much I eat / how I work my body impacts the fat eviction process.

In puzzling out what’s going on with the scale, I can honestly say I have not eaten anything that goes against the rules of South Beach Phase II. I’m drinking plenty of water. I’m exercising strenuously for 30 minutes each day.

But it occurred to me that I might just be sabotaging myself anyway. How, you ask? Easy: I’m not eating as much or as often as I oughta be.

See, those first two weeks, I ate every meal (and breakfast happened the minute my feet hit the floor), and every snack. And dessert. Now? I’m slipping. I still eat breakfast, but it might not be for an hour or two after I work out. I rarely eat a morning or afternoon snack. Yesterday, I forgot to eat lunch.

I know what’s happening here: somewhere in my subconscious, there’s a lingering little thought that says, “eating less is better.” Consciously, I know that’s bullshit, but it’s the enemy of fat women everywhere. We all have one. We’ve been told to just eat less, and we dutifully do so. Which kills our metabolism. Which makes us fatter. Gotta love the diet industry, don’t you?

Well, I’m not going down without a fight. The first thing I’m going to do is make sure I eat, and eat plenty (but still staying in the guidelines of South Beach). And then I’m going to see what happens.

Exercise today: I decided to switch things up a bit – again, in the interests of experimentation. And not at all because I’ll be running through the airport in a few hours and don’t want jelly-legs. Nope. All about the science, I am. Anyway, I decided to do my workout at a comfortable pace that I could maintain the entire 30 minutes, instead of the intervals I’ve been doing. I was curious to see how far I’d go. And the verdict is: I went 6.6 miles (a half-mile less than yesterday’s all-out intervals). So yeah, the scale may be stuck, but my body is getting stronger and fitter every day.

And I’ll take any kind of progress.

I’m off to the frozen North soon, but I’ll be checking in early mornings and evenings when I’m not falling asleep in meetings. Have a Marvelous Monday!

Sisterhood of the loosening pants

I ended up doing my 30 minutes on the bike yesterday after all, as it wasn’t quite as lovely out as I thought yesterday morning. Hit 7.0 miles again, so I’m a happy camper. Even better, I felt far less wrung out after yesterday’s 7 miles than I did the previous day, so I’m definitely still getting stronger.

Went to Publix, and spent nearly $100 on…

• Cherries
• Strawberries
• Blueberries
• Dried blueberries (for when we run out of the fresh ones between shopping runs)
• Dried cranberries
• Dried plums (evidently, they’re no longer called prunes)
• Whole-grain pita
• 1 lb of shrimp
• Yogurt
• Whole-grain bread
• Sugar-free pudding
• Carrots
• Apples
• Pears
• Breakfast cereal (Kashi for Hubby and me, Cheerios for Sonny)
• Reduced-fat string cheese
• Reduced-fat sharp cheddar
• 1 box of South Beach bars (so I have something in my purse for the trip in case I find myself hungry with nothing healthy to eat)

Truly, it is more expensive to eat unprocessed foods. But so very worth it.

In other news, I have a pair of jeans that I purchased a couple of years ago. Even then, they were a mite too snug, but I could get away with wearing them. Two weeks ago? Not so much. In fact, the day we started the South Beach diet, I couldn’t even zip or button them. At all.

Friday night, however, I decided to take ‘em out and see if I was any closer to being able to wear them. And I’m happy to report that not only could I zip and button them, I could do so with ease. And the legs, which used to be comfortably snug, are now a smidge loose. Do you know what this means? It means I have to go shopping next weekend for a pair of jeans that don’t fit, so I have my next “goal” jeans. What a feeling.

Last night’s dinner ended up being shrimp stir-fried with asparagus, broccoli, and peas, with a bit of sesame oil and soy sauce. At least, that’s what it was supposed to be. The broccoli and asparagus ended up a bit oversteamed before stir-frying, because the fargin’ shrimp did not want to cook. How can shrimp not cook in a wok over high heat? So really, what I made was stir-fried shrimp with peas and green goop. Hubby and Sonny ate it and claimed they liked it; I tried, but could not. So I ended up having a couple of broccoli breakfast mini-quiches with a pita. And it was okay.

This morning, I felt a bit oogy: groggy, puffy, and so parched that my mouth felt like sandpaper. Perhaps I overdid it with the carboliciousness last night? Maybe I’ll try to keep my grains and starchy stuff to breakfast and lunch only, and just go with protein, fruit, and veggies in the evening.

I didn’t work out this morning, because I have some work to do for my new business, which I can only do when it’s quite (i.e., when everyone else is still asleep).

Off to do some work – have a stupendous Sunday!

Identity crisis

Who am I, and what have I done with me?

I got through the day yesterday with a minimum of fuss. Had my snacks and lunch, and resisted the temptation to go to the free buffet lunch. In the interests of full disclosure, I didn’t have to resist much: it was from Subway. Yech.

Stopped to pick up a battery charger for our riding mower (ah, the glamor of life in the country!), came home, said hello to Hubby and Sonny, and then realized I was starving. So I grabbed a handful of pistachios, tossed ‘em down, and then got changed and got on the bike. As predicted, I did not want to exercise after spending the day at the office. Aside: the days I go to the office, I wake up at 4:00 AM – which is why I didn’t work out yesterday morning – and am in the office by 5:30 so I can leave by 2:30 so I’m home when Sonny returns from school. So by the time I got home, I was already 12 hours into my day.

But, dammit, I was actually looking forward to this. And so I did it. And I hit a new record of 7.0 miles (but I think I may have pushed just a bit too hard). And then? I felt like fargin’ Wonder Woman.

And then – then – I got to use my brand new toy (no, not that kind of toy, you freak!). You may remember I mentioned something about a new food processor back in one of my early posts. Well, the truth is that it was a tiny, pathetic little excuse for a food processor. Oh, it did the job, but I had to do everything in batches. And I don’t care for batches. So I got a new GE food processor, and tonight I opened it and used it for the first time, and… I’m in love with this thing. It pureed enough cauliflower for all of us in 15 seconds. ::sigh:: ‘Tis like a dream, it is.

Now, I dunno what happened to that woman who used to get out of bed, work all day, and collapse back into bed at night after doing nothing but sitting on her ass thinking herself to death all day (okay, that’s not fair; considering how many meetings my company has, I’ve been known to talk myself practically to death as well), but she seems to be gone, gone gone. And good riddance, bitch!

I spent the remainder of the evening sashaying around the house like a freakin’ cheerleader: bouncy, bouncy, smiley, smiley. Sickening. And yet, I love it.

In other events last night: Monday will be the two-year-anniversary of the day Hubby and I met. Since I will be traveling on Monday, he had a present for me last night. A cotton nightgown. Why cotton and not, say, latex, you ask? It seems cotton is the traditional gift for second anniversaries. Plus it’s, you know, the fabric of our lives.

This nightgown? Looks kinda like something out of Little House on the Prairie: long sleeves, little tiny pink flowers all over it. I never, ever would have bought it for myself (I’m more a pajama pants and t-shirts kinda gal). Nevertheless, it may be the best gift anyone has ever purchased for me.

Why?

Because it’s 3 sizes smaller than the clothes I’m wearing right now. Because he added a note that said if I keep up what I’ve been doing, this will be the last X-sized pajamas I’ll ever own.

Is he a keeper, or what?

Today’s plan: I’m laying off the bike today. Partly because I woke up famished and didn’t want to wait to have breakfast, partly because I have to take Sonny for a hair cut and then to Publix for groceries (fruit! I’m finally buying fruit again! Can I tell you how happy I am to be at Phase II?) – and I don’t want to wait until I work out, shower, and blowdry to go, and partly because it looks to be a beautiful day, so I’m going for a walk later instead.

On the weight training front: Other than some things I can do without benefit of a gym (pushups, crunches, the dreaded but necessary squats), I’m going to stick with cardio only for this next week. Not because I don’t want to get to the weights – only because I’ll be out of town, and while there’s a fitness room at the gym, I don’t remember it being quite… impressive.

Have a great Saturday, all!

In which I tell you more about me than you ever wanted to know

By the time you read this, I’ll be at the office already. You see, thanks to WordPress and its fabulous ability to specify when to publish a post, I’m writing this a day ahead. Sneaky, yes? This also means that, if you add a comment that goes into moderation, I won’t be able to approve it until tonight, so please accept my apology in advance for the delay.

So, today (meaning Friday – you know, when you’re reading this?) is going to be the first day in which I didn’t exercise first thing in the morning. This grips me with a small amount of trepidation, because I know myself well enough to know that I will be in no damn mood to exercise after putting in a full day of work. But I’ll do it, because I promised myself. And if I can’t even keep a simple promise to myself? I’ve got issues.

Will be taking lunch and snacks with me, so as to avoid the fast food-o-rama around the corner from the office.

By the way: dinner last night was poached salmon with roasted asparagus and the mock hollandaise recipe from the South Beach Diet cookbook. While I can’t say it was as good as real hollandaise – and it tasted pretty funky on its own – atop the fish and asparagus? It was pretty darned yummy.

But that’s not what I promised to write about, is it? I promised to give you TMI. And so I shall. Consider this a public service announcement for all you 20- and 30-somethings, because this will happen to you, too.

• Did you know the worst years for PMS are ages 35 – 45? No? I didn’t either. Until I turned 40 and actually started experiencing PMS. And experiencing it with a vengeance, yo. I don’t get mood swings. No, I get the Vomit Comet of mood swings: one minute I’m fine, and the next I’m ready to cut a bitch. For any or no reason whatsoever. Fun! Think I’m making this shit up? Ask Hubby. He’s suggesting I come up with some sort of PMSCON level indicator so he knows whether to talk to me or not on any given day. I’m thinking of creating an organization called the Hormone OutRage Alert Defense (HORAD).
• What used to be a fairly normal, routine, regularly scheduled event? Is now something of a crap shoot. There’s no sense trying to predict my menstrual cycle at this point. Oh, it’ll be regular for a few months, and then WHAM! It goes haywire for a bit. Lesson learned: don’t wear white pants, and always carry tampons and pads. Everywhere I go.
• Although all evidence says I’m in my mid-forties, I still feel like I’m a lot younger. This doesn’t mean that I feel as fresh and vibrant as I did at 25. Rather, it means that I still have no clue what I’m doing in life. I imagine that many people feel this way but don’t admit to it.
• I divorced my son’s dad back in 2001, and was happily single before I met Hubby.
• I will not be divorced again, as I’ve made it clear to Hubby that there’s only one way out of this marriage, and it’s not through a courtroom.
• I have a 12-year-old son, and all the attendant stress and aggravation that comes from having a preteen in the house.
• My hair started going gray when I was 21, and is now almost completely gray.
• I refuse to accept being gray and fat (and I still have to deal with the occasional zit, too – what the hell is up with that?), so I have a fabulous colorist who keeps me in a variety of shades of auburn and brunette in exchange for oodles of filthy lucre.
• Hubby has not been reading my blog, because he’s afraid he’ll feel the need to put in his two cents. I have explained that I would love for him to read and comment on what I have to say. You should tell him so as well, because he assured me he’ll start reading it.

Okay, that’s enough TMI for one day. Have a great Friday, all, and I’ll see you tomorrow with this week’s results.

Beginner gains? Kick ASS!

“Beginner gains” is a term that usually refers to the fact that people who are new to weight training tend to gain muscle rapidly.

I’ve been thinking about this concept a lot these past two weeks, since I started the South Beach Diet, because it applies to many situations, including – maybe especially weight loss. When you first start a weight loss program, the fat? It practically falls off. Really. Other than a one-day uptick last week (which I can now attribute to water retention thanks to PMS), I’ve headed downward every single day. It’s nothing short of frickin’ amazing.

Mind you, I can’t see any difference yet. And since I work from home most of the time (and therefore am in sweats or jammies most days), I don’t feel a difference in the fit of my clothes (but I’ll be going to Ye Olde Workplace tomorrow, so I’ll see then how my jeans fit). But I certainly feel different. There’s a bounce in my step that wasn’t there before. I’m not fighting heartburn every hour of the day. I’m not exhausted all the time (other than the mental exhaustion that comes from having a husband, son, full-time job, starting a new way of eating / exercising and working to start a business). I feel inexplicably optimistic. This – trust me – is not like me.

I only post the official numbers on Saturdays, but I will say that the numbers are really encouraging. And my fitness level is increasing by leaps and bounds. Granted, any genuine athlete would laugh at my “fitness” level until she pisses her pants and her eyes roll right out of her head on the wave of laughter-generated tears. But considering that less than a week ago I thought I was going to die just to eke out 5.9 miles on our exercise bike in 30 minutes, and today I hit a new high of 6.9 miles in that same time? I’m impressed.

But here’s the problem with beginner gains: they don’t continue forever. I fully realize that at some point (and it’s probably coming pretty damn soon), the honeymoon will be over, and the fat is going to begin to resist my attempts to evict it. But that’s okay, because I’m ready for that, and I’m pumped. I’m 44 years old, dammit, and I’ve skated for most of my adult life mistreating my body, with no real ill effects. The gods have been kind so far. But it’s time for me to get my shit together and start taking care of my body now so I still have a body 20, 30, even 40 years from now.

My motto for this long haul to health (and hotness – never forget hotness) is what Mathesar said in “Galaxy Quest:”

Never give up. Never surrender!