Indulging, Ex-Lax, and panic!

So there's both good and bad news, once again.

Good news?  I'm down to 191 pounds.
Bad news?  I'm getting ridiculously obsessed with every last ounce of food I put into my body, as well as every little ounce that goes on, or off.

Stunning how obsessed I can get with my weight.  I either don't give a shit, and end up fatter than I ever imagined I could get.  Or, I care so much that my poor body doesn't get enough food.

Okay, okay.  I need a better plan.  First of all, last week I had insomnia for 4 days.  Consequently, I didn't walk as much as I should've, or even wanted to.

When I got home in the wee hours on Friday night, I staggered over to the scale (fucked, I know) and weighed myself.  I was thrilled!  The scale read 190 pounds.  I was so excited to reach my goal of 189 pounds by Monday's weigh-in, and then got super disappointed when on Sunday I randomly gained 2 pounds.  Yep.  For the first time in the last month, I put some weight on.  This was extremely difficult for me to handle.  See, I like to understand things, and I just couldn't understand what was happening.  So guess what I did?  Ensured that I ate like a piglet.  Sigh.  Will I never learn?  We went to Cora's for breakfast and I got the Eggs Benedictine with Swiss cheese and asparagus.  Even though it wasn't very hot (fuckers, I waited so long too) I ate it.  Ate one point there was a slimy bit in the egg, you know, the clear jelly-like stuff that refuses to cook, and I remembered how vile eggs are.  I literally gagged and almost chundered on the table.

Chicken periods!!  Gross.

I was so tired from being a domestic goddess that last night we had pizza.

You'll never guess how I combatted the level of guilt:  I took 2 extra-strength Ex-Lax.  The funny thing is, it came to haunt me, so hopefully I won't do that again.  This morning when I was back in the forest (such a beautiful day!) I actually thought I might shit myself.  No joke.  I frickin' motored home in a crampy, bloated panic.  I'm feeling distinctly bloated today, very post-fried-peanut butter- and-banana-sandwiches-Elvis kinda thing.  I tried to put on a pair of jeans that when I wore them the other day were a bit loose, and today, I couldn't even do them up!  What the eff?


As an aside, I noticed that every time I walk by river banks, or over bridges, etc. I look for dead bodies.  Weird.  One day I wonder if I'll ever see someone's bloated boo-boo?

Food intake:
2 rice cakes
1 light Babybel
1 tbsp almond butter
1 medium Ida Red apple
2 cuppas with 1% milk and Splenda
5 slices of pickled beet

I'll keep updating the food intake until the end of today, but I want to post this entry now... 'cause I'm so patient!

Week 6; must kick ass!

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Bonjour!

There's nothing to fear.  

I've been a pretty good girl, and kept up mainly with my eating well and exercising.  If I were a child, being called a pretty good girl would be awesome.  Thing is, I should be a very good girl.

My birthday weekend spawned some drinking of el boozo, and then some crap eating, but not much.  My busy schedule however has tried very hard to sabotage my exercise and consumption of whole foods.  Fuckity.

The good news is my weight is: 194 pounds (how that can be good news, I don't know)

The fantastic news is that my self-esteem is getting better each day that I don't feel like as much of a heifer.

I've been at this for 28 days now.  Hmm, a whole lady cycle.  Interesting.

Today I measure myself.  Please bear with me as I get out the dreaded tape of doom.

Here are my original stats:

Neck: 14" or 35.5 cm
Upper arm:  13.5"or 35 cm
Forearm:  10.5" or 27 cm
Wrist:  6.25" or 16 cm
Chest (with bra...sadly, there would be a difference without!):  42.5" or 108 cm
Under boob:  38.25" or 97.5 cm
Waist:  38.5" (OMFG) or 98.5 cm
Biggest part of tummy:  43.25" or 110.5 cm (always a disaster when you've got a boobie-do)
Thigh:  26" or 66.5 cm
Hips:  42" or 107.5 cm
Calf:  16.75" or 43 cm
Ankle:  9" or 23.5 cm

Here are my current stats:

Neck:  13 3/4"  (-1/4")

Upper arm:  13 1/2"  (same)

Forearm:  10 1/2"  (same)

Wrist:  6 1/4"  (same)

Chest:  42"  (- 1/2")

Under boob:  36"  (-2.25")

Waist:  36 1/2"  (-2")

Biggest part of tummy:  42 1/2"  (-3/4")

Thigh:  25 1/4"  (-3/4")

Hips:  40 1/2"  (-1 1/2")

Calf:  15 3/4"  (-1/2")

Ankle:  9"  (same)

Total inches lost = 8!

It's not great, but it's something.  I haven't been doing any body specific exercises, but I will now.  My arms waggle when I wave.  Not cool.  This must stop.  My tummy is definitely gunt style.  This must stop.

Nonetheless, I am 8 inches smaller, and 13 pounds less than I was 28 days ago.  Go team!

By the by, if I seem to have gone off track, I really would appreciate prying e-mails, or comments, scathing or encouraging.  I really want to continue, but I may need assistance sometimes.

Ta very much.

Onward ho!  Wait, did I just call myself a ho?

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Lazy piece o'...

Yep, I feel like I was a lazy git today.  Now that I've not been lazy for 2 weeks, being lazy feels bad.  It was rainy today and my legs wouldn't get me out the door.  I spent the whole morning being decadent; I lay in bed for the longest time reading, Ulysses.  I suppose we all deserve (one) day like this every so often.


I can't help but cast my mind forward to this weekend.  There could be eating troubles that will challenge me.  With my birthday happening this weekend, I will have the challenges not only of Thanksgiving meal, but a cake, as well as dinner out on Friday night, as well as boozy drinks.  I suppose there's that old adage about everything in moderation...I also like to add:  including moderation.  Sometimes you have to not care.


Wish I'd taken a 'before' picture.  I always love those before and after shots where somebody is standing proudly with giganta-pants pulled out to the sides.  I suppose I could take one now.  I have a HORRIBLE picture that was taken of me during the summer, prolly the worst picture ever.  I may use that as my before pic.

I think it's time to show you the goal dress.  The only thing different about this picture is that my dress is red with tiny black polka dots.  I pretty much love every dress ever made by Stop Staring! and I think G will be made broke once I can fit into these gorgeous frocks (and look fabulous).  I used to dress like that every day, but then once I stopped working, I found myself in the jeans and t-shirt uniform, getting fatter and fatter.  Anyway.  No more.

Consumption of Mass Quantities:
Flat bagel thingy from PC
1 tbsp cream cheese (I was lured by a commercial for Laughing Cow today and wooed by the 35 calories per wedge.  Must buy.  Regular cream cheese is 45 calories per tablespoon!)
2 x cuppas with 1% milk and Splenda
1 Blue Menu tortilla
2 leaves of lettuce
1 medium carrot
3 slices of beet
1 red pepper
1/4 onion
1/2 celery stalk
Small portion of white old cheddar (aka yumminess)
1 tbsp mango chutney
1 cup whole grain pasta (actually I couldn't finish it, so it was prolly 2/3 cup or less)
1/4 cup vegetarian bolognese sauce (so low in calories and fat, but high in protein)
1 tomato
1 tbsp olive oil
1 (plus a bite) frozen yogurt smoothie bar (SO GOOD and only 90 calories)
1 glass Coke Zero
NO WATER :(

In the spirit of mango, I encourage you to watch this hilarious video about a mango.  This song is sung pretty much daily in our household, usually accompanied by squealing, running, and dancing.  So fun!

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Quality Control

What's with the lack of quality control in our lives these days?  The shops are in a constant state of chaos; the people who work in the shops are (for the most part) vapid excuses for human beings; nobody seems to care.  Well ya know what?  I care.

The more quality control I can bring to my life, the better.  Yeah, I'm anal as fuck, but when it comes down to brass tacks, it's because I expect the best from people.  Whoa, serious breakthrough with my own psyche.  I tend to expect the best from people at all times, yet seem unable or unwilling to reciprocate, at least when it comes taking care of myself.  Give me a job to do and I'll likely do it to the best of my ability, and possibly even push the hell out of myself to go above and beyond what I knew I could at the outset of the task.

So why not adhere to that same level of q.c. all the time?  From this day forward, I will try my fucking best.  I swear.  And no, that doesn't mean I'm going to become a Stepford Wife.  That being said, there is a 1950's housewife in me; the Wife and Mom who beams rainbows out her valiumed being, all the while dressed in a frouffy outfit with fresh lippy on.

Today brings with it the start of week 3 of my new focus on health and fitness.  There have been a few bumps along the way, but nothing major.

This morning I found a lovely 45 minute walk/lung blaster of a journey through the forest.  I force myself up and down hills that aren't necessary, and feel all the better for it afterwards.  Not too long into my walk this morning I came face to face with a coyote on the path.  I was scared.  It was scared.  I thought we stared at one another for an eternity, but it was likely only a second or two.  In a panic I jingled my keys at it and it bolted.  I came so close to turning around and going home, but I forced myself to 'grow a set' and keep moving.  There is no denying I was worried about the fact that I am surfing the crimson wave.  Now that I've looked it up though, it's moose that love the pheromones of a woman riding the cotton pony, not coyotes.  (Do you say coyotes, or coyotees?)

Down 8 pounds over the last 2 weeks; not bad.  There is no doubt in my mind that I am feeling better for it, and I felt even better when I shopped in my own closet this morning.  I'm wearing jeans that I couldn't have fit into 2 weeks ago.  That deserves a 'hell yeah'!

The Universe loves me, btw.  I drove all the way to Vaughan Mills and found the gorgeous boots I was lusting after in my last post.  Thanks, shopping goddesses; my prayers came answered.

That is all.

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