Reality Sorta Sucks

We just returned home from vacation, during which a photo was taken of me.  When I saw it, I gasped.

In that moment, I realized that I have been positively delusional when looking in the mirror for probably...oh...the past 9 months or so.  There are several chins showing in the mirror that I simply haven't been seeing.

I've been seeing the 20-something year old me.

It's sort of like a time after my second child was born, and my husband took a picture of us together.  When we got the pictures back (good old film days, I do not miss you one bit), I said something like "their process is all messed up!  Just look at this awful color!"  

"What do you mean?" Replied my husband.

"Look!  My hair!  It's brown!"

"Yes.  Yes it is.  In real life, Daiquiri.  Your hair is brown."

"WHAT?!"

I ran to the mirror, and it was as if a veil had been removed from my eyes.  Sure enough, my hair had turned brown.  I was a toe-head my entire childhood.  Bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair.  That was me.  As a teenager, I was more of a golden blonde.  But age and pregnancy hormones had changed my hair to a mousy brown color.  I stood in front of the mirror for a long while thinking, "Hello brown-haired woman.  Who the heck ARE you?"

But the photo taken of me last week wasn't as simple to fix as a few well-placed highlights my by my very talented hair guru, Suzy.

Unless Suzy does chin lifts, tummy tucks, and liposuction on the side...she can't help me one bit.

I'm over weight.

Not FAT, I guess.  But most definitely over weight.  According to my history and the current number on the scale, I'm approximately 20 pounds heavier than I should be.  Maybe 25.  

How did this happen?  

So...reality has sunk in, at least in this area of my life.  I wonder, how else am I deluded?

Where to start?  I've never had a weight problem in my life.  I've never had to work at losing weight.  I've certainly never had to diet.  Blech.

But now that I see reality when I look in the mirror, I have to do something.  I can't look at myself and tell myself "I'm perfectly healthy" anymore.  

So...I've given up my daily Coke for lunch.  That's 140 calories a day.  And I'm going to get moving for at least 20-30 minutes each day.  It probably won't make me lose 20 pounds, but it's a place to start and more importantly, they are changes I can live with.  

My dear Reality...you suck.

Pain And Suffering

What's more painful... diet and exercise or going through last summer's "fat" clothes I bought to wear after just having a baby (I'll be out of these by next summer for sure, I thought)... only to find that my fat clothes indeed, do not fit.

They're too small.

By quite a bit.

So I did a good old fashioned separation of the wheat from the chaff.  It sucked.  

I sorted into several categories:

1.  Fits and is relatively cute - Keep

2.  Relatively cute but 1 size too small - Store on top shelf

3.  Relatively cute (or not) but 2 sizes too small - Donate

4.  Ugly - fits or not - Donate

5.  Have had since high school (yes, HIGH SHOOL), and I'm pretty sure I'm delusional about it being in style due to it's extreme comfort - Donate (except for those few pieces hidden in my "comfy clothes" stash)

I have LOTS of clothes stored on the top shelf (jeans, skirts, capris, shorts).

I have a GIANT bag of clothes t donate (everything under the sun).

I have 2 pair of shorts, 2 pair of jeans, 1 skirt, 1 pair of capris (that I need to mend), and a handful of tops that fit (but are pretty ugly...gotta have something to wear).

I'm not sure if I want to cry and eat chocolate or jump for joy at not having to sort through too small "fat" clothes the next time I go to the closet.

What will it take for me to lose weight?  I really don't know.  I've been eating veggies like I'm some kind of rabbit lately.  I've been running.  I've been lifting weight.  Still - the scale shows me a number that has never appeared outside of pregnancy for me.  

I'm so frustrated.  And confused.  And pissed off.  And feeling ugly.

Had some blood work done recently as part of a physical.  I was so hoping that it would show some sort of thyroid imbalance.  Then, at least, I'd have a good explanation for why I can't seem to lose the weight.

Have I mentioned how pissed off I am?

Today's Run

...was very painful. But I haven't run in weeks so I think I earned a little pain. Twisted my ankle a little in the California sand this past weekend (I know, your heart is breaking right in two for me isn't it?), and now it really smarts. Might need to find something a little lower impact for a while.

According to Map My Ride I did 2.45 miles in 25 minutes. That translates into just over a 10 minute mile (or just under 6 mph for you treadmill folks). Not bad considering the break I've been on. The pitbull who ran alongside me for half a block was friendly enough, but he sure gave me a bit of an adrenaline boost....probably didn't hurt my rate :)

Now just to avoid eating a dozen freshly made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies before the day is over. I know, what was I thinking??

Back On The Wagon

Well, the "baby weight" isn't exactly melting away as I'd hoped it would when I weaned Thomas. I had really and truly convinced myself that the hormone change that came with weaning would magically make these 15 pounds just disappear.

Um...not happenin'. In fact, I've gained 4 pounds.

I guess I'm going to have to eat less and exercise just like every other normal person out there. Dang.

Saving My Butt From Halloween Candy...

This gum...Trident Tropical Twist has been such a life-saver this horribly tempting Halloween season! It's super sweet, and the flavor lasts forever.

I'm still eating the occasional Butterfinger or Reece's Peanut Butter Cup...but normally one piece would absolutely send me over the edge, and I'd be sitting there for 2 hours piling in the chocolate. But now I'll eat a piece of candy, and then if I feel like having more, I'll have some gum instead. It keeps my mouth satisfied and busy through the chocolate crisis.

I keep asking myself a question though...HOW can a pound of candy eaten translate into 5 pounds gained. Darn calories...

Food For Thought...About Food

As I sat and ate my breakfast this morning I noticed just how MUCH food I had put on my plate. I was alarmed.

It made me think...when did I start eating so much?

I'm not going to go back all the way to when I was a kid in high school. I ate like a horse, but I was exercising a LOT too. Plus, I was a kid. Let's just skip that phase...

On to college. I was exercising fairly regularly, and eating just as I always had. Honestly, I didn't think at all about it. I exercised because I enjoyed it and I ate when I was hungry. Period. I didn't even own a scale!

And then I met my hubby. I started to cook for the two of us...but I made the mistake of serving myself just as much as I was serving my 210 pound boyfriend! Big surprise, I started to feel "bloated". I was convinced that I was retaining water since my pants didn't fit, and that had always been the reason. But then I bought my very first scale and realized I had gained 20 pounds! That ain't water!

I still find myself eating as much as hubby. I just love to eat. I love how it smells. I love how it looks. I love how it tastes. I love the feel of it in my mouth. I love the feeling of a full tummy.

But this morning during breakfast? I had a revelation. There are two thoughts in my head about food that I need to change:

1. Clean my plate
2. Save the best bite for last

The "clean my plate" thing...everyone knows that's no good. And I don't think I clean my plate out of guilt or not wanting to waste. It's more of an excuse for me. I WANT to eat all that food, and "I don't want to waste" is a convenient excuse to convince myself that I should.

Combine that with "saving the best for last", and I have a real problem. Now I have actual, real motivation to eat every last bite!

Does anyone else out there save the best for last? I pick out the most yummy, perfectly done, ooey, gooey bite...and I eat it last. Sort of like the grand finale or something.

But the problem with that is this - by the time I get to that last bite, my mouth has usually HAD IT with what I've been eating. I don't even enjoy that scrumptious bite as much as I should! But leave it on my plate? When I've been saving it? When I've been eating (and eating, and eating..) to get to that last bite? Impossible!

So I'm going to try and change my ways a bit.

First, I'm going to just decide RIGHT NOW...I'm leaving a few bites of food on my plate. There. Done. Decided. If I'm still hungry after a while, I can always go back and have more or finish my plate. But only if I'm hungry.

And I'm going to pick out the very best bite....and eat it FIRST. It will be yummy and perfect and satisfying. I'm going to eat it slowly and really enjoy it. That way, if my body says "I'm getting full here!", I can stop without feeling like I'm missing out on that last bite. After the "best" it's all downhill anyway, right?

Besides - what does "save the best for last" teach my kids? Granted, there are some things in life worth working and saving and planning for. But most things...most are best enjoyed right NOW. Who knows what tomorrow brings anyway?

I don't want to become obsessive about this though - that's not healthy either. So why worry about it? It's not like I have a "weight problem"...I just want to lose a bit. Some reasons to make change:

1. I'm heavier than I should be for optimum health.
2. I'm not pregnant or nursing anymore. Ever. Oh my (sniff). I've been pregnant, trying to be pregnant, or nursing for over 7 YEARS. I can't eat like I did during those times...or I'm gonna start to LOOK pregnant!
3. I want to be a good example for my kids.
4. I want to enjoy food more. Half the time I'm scarfing down my meal trying to get to that last, best bite...or trying to eat quickly so I can take care of someone else. I'll enjoy it more if I truly savor it. I can eat just as long (from a time perspective), but I don't have to eat quite so MUCH.

I'm tired of talking about food. It gives me a crazy craving for chocolate, and I don't have any in the house! Sugar...that's another topic all together!

I'm A Real Runner Now!

Oh, the things I tell myself to get motivated :)

Hubby and I ran a 5K race this past weekend. I had one expectation of myself: run the whole way. Even if I ran at a snail's pace (as running goes), I was NOT going to walk at ALL.

I did it!

And I did it while running at my best pace since high school. In high school I could run a 10 minute mile for 5 miles and barely sweat. Ah, the glory days.

Not really. You couldn't pay me to go back to high school.

A 5K equals 3.1 miles for us backwards folks. And I ran it in 30 minutes, 28 seconds. That translates into an average rate of 9 minutes, 49 seconds. What can I say, I love a good excuse to use my calculator :)

I was going to just make it a slow jog, but my competitiveness got the best of me. Every time someone passed me (which was plenty often), I got a little mad! I found myself kicking pretty hard at the end.

And now...I'm hooked! As we got in the car to go to the race start I was thinking, "This is dumb. We could have just gone for a 5K run and saved our entry fees!" But it was so fun. There is a big difference between going for a run and being in a RACE.

Hubby enjoyed it too. I found him on line searching for training programs for half marathons! I don't know if I'm quite ready for that...but maybe a 10 K :)

Saving Some Fat & Calories

So I've been thinking about oatmeal chocolate chip cookies all morning. I wish I could say I've been thinking about being strong and NOT stuffing my face with them...but mostly it's been just the opposite. The ooey gooey chocolaty goodness of those little nuggets of temptation are evil, I tell you, E.V.I.L. !

Since it seems to be beyond my willpower to avoid eating one (or 6) every time I walk into the kitchen, I've been doing two things. One - avoiding the kitchen...this is evidenced by the breakfast dishes still sitting out with syrup on them (evil...see?!). And two - figuring out how to make them a tad bit better for me.

What if I make them with Smart Balance spread and Egg Beaters instead of real butter and eggs, I wonder?

2 sticks real butter: 1600 calories, 176 g total fat, 112 g saturated fat
2 large real eggs: 108 calories, 7.4 g total fat, 2.2 g saturated fat
Total just from these ingredients: 1708 calories, 183.4 g total fat, 114.2 g sat. fat

Using Smart Balance: 1280 calories, 144 g total fat, 40 g saturated fat
and Egg Beater type eggs: 60 calories, 0 g fat
Total: 1340 calories, 144 g fat, 40 g sat. fat

Difference: 368 calories, 39.4 g fat, 74.2 g sat. fat

As much as I'd love to eat all 4 dozen cookies, even I can usually stop at oh, 2 dozen or so! Let's break it down per cookie:

By using Smart Balance and Egg Beaters instead of the real stuff, I'd save (per cookie):
7.67 calories
.82 g fat
1.55 g saturated fat

Hmmm. I'm not sure if it really makes that much of a difference. I'm not sure that it even made enough difference for me to take the time to fire up my calculator! Well, I guess every little bit helps.

I wonder if they'd taste any good. You know I'm forced to make a new batch, right?

I hate it when the "math" tells me that to really save on fat and calories I should just eat in moderation. I hate moderation. At least when it comes to these cookies...

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies

They have oatmeal...does that make it okay to have 3 for breakfast? I hope so.

Sigh. I'm so very weak.

Hittin' The Road

I have a new favorite workout. I NEVER thought I'd say this, but my new favorite? Running.

Just me and my music. And the fresh air. And the rustling leaves in the trees. And the occasional dog that chases me and scares me half to death. And the rather large rock I carry in my left hand to give myself a small amount of peace of mind against said dog. Hey, at least my left bicep will be stronger. Hmm, maybe I should alternate arms?

My hubby is so smart. He knows what makes me tick. Not like that...well, yes, like that...but that's not what I'm talking about! Ahem (blush).

I mean, he knows what motivates me. He signed us up for a local 5K race, and it's this coming weekend. So that's why I've been running. Now, it's for the love of getting on the road. But in the beginning? It was all about the desperate need to not be humiliated this Saturday!

Hubby's doing the race too. I don't know what came over us in the past few months. He looked at me one day and said, "This is not who we are, and we need to do something about it!" He went on to explain how he wants to have a future of fun and activity and full years...not a future of sitting on the couch, feeling and looking old and fat, and lots of doctor visits.

He has a great point. I wanna get old with him. Really, really, old and saggy and wrinkly. We can compare dentures and "regularity". We can go on long walks while I ask him what he thinks about my latest hairstyle (I've come to terms that I'll never be happy with however I've cut my hair, and it's just his lot in life to answer my stupid questions..."do you like it better like this, or this?"). We can visit our kids and grandkids (hey, maybe they can tell me what to do with my hair!). We can travel the world. Lucky him ;)

I hope he doesn't read this. If he suddenly loses his passion for a healthy lifestyle, I'll know he has...

But I Thought I'd Already Reached My All Time Low!

Today has been (as my wonderful grandma would say) a "hum-dinger".

Not much going on, just one of those days.

I managed to get into my exercise clothes, get the Wii going, did a little boxing, hula-hoop, and step. And then, half way through a boxing match, I thought, "I'm just plain bored and I don't wanna do this."

I turned it off, and gave up on the workout. So I got, what, 10 minutes of sweating done? Silly. I guess it's not nothing though.

I think it's a hormone thing for me. Nothing sounds interesting or fun. I'd really rather just sit on the computer and edit photos or cruise blogs all day.

A sure sign that it's a hormone thing? Aside from the lack of energy, motivation, or high spirits? My candy stash. It dawned on me after lunch that I have a bag of Easter candy stashed in my closet! Now, I'd totally forgotten about it until today! It's proof...proof that my chocolate desperate mind and body is grasping at straws. My brain had to dig DEEP for the memory of that candy, I'll tell ya!

So now, after my non-workout...I'm stuffing my face with those blissfully sweet and crunchy robin's eggs.

It's days like this when I realize that I'll likely never be a size 8 again. Heck, I don't know if I'll fit into my 10's and 12's by the end of THIS week!

Checking In...

Well, I decided to pull out the tape measure and scale to compare my measurements to where I was when I started this.

I was hopeful, because I feel like I've been working hard. I've been working out 3-4 times a week for the past 6 weeks or so. I'm sleeping better, have more energy, and hubby tells me I look different. So I was looking for a little pick-me-up with in improvement in the numbers.

I weighed. I measured.

I gained 2 pounds.

I gained about 1/2 inch on every measurement...except my chest. Isn't that just crappy? If I'm gonna gain inches anywhere, it had better be in the boobs. But no.

My determination is slipping away on me...

Unpleasant

Nothin' quite like trying to squeeze into last year's jeans to motivate a workout...

It's All About The Bra

Yes, the bra. When I get up in the morning, I get dressed right into my exercise clothes. There's just something about wearing a sports bra that makes me want to take it off (not very comfy)! And I just hate taking it off if I haven't gotten a workout in.

Strange motivation, to be sure. But hey, I'll take anything I can get.

Still no change on the scale.

But the other day I was horsing around with Ben, and I flexed my arm muscle at him. "Whoah MOM, where'd you get THAT?!" was his very satisfying response. I love that kid. He's officially my favorite ;)

My baby boy turns 1 NEXT WEEK. I can't believe it. I'm hesitant to wean him just because I know this is my last time nursing a baby, and it's such sweet time with him. But I'm also feeling more and more like I'd like my body back. Oh, the constant push and pull that is motherhood!

I'm still holding out hope that I'll have an easier time losing some fat once I wean him. I just HAVE TO remember to cut back on eating after I'm done nursing. I've gotten pretty accustomed to being able to eat an extra 500 calories per day "for the baby"!

Oh, change is hard, don't you think? I think.

Frustration

Well, I'm still working out 3-4 times per week. I usually do my Wii Fit stuff, and then get off the Wii and lift weights. I have a set of 5's and 10's (free weights)...I'm doing every arm exercise imaginable along with sit ups, lunges, and squats.

So why am I frustrated? The scale is not budging. Not even a little.

Hubby assures me that I'm definitely making changes...that I'm a different shape. And the way my clothes fit testify to this as well. So why am I not losing weight?

I have a hair-brained theory: I think I might be losing a little bit of fat AND gaining some muscle. They're sorta cancelling each other out, making it seem like nothing is happening. Why is this fat being so stubborn? I think it's because I'm still nursing the baby. My body really likes to hold on to a bit of padding while I'm nursing.

So I'm still going to keep working at it with the hope that when I stop nursing in the next couple of months (sniff, sniff), the fat will just start to disappear. Please, Lord, let this happen! I'm afraid that I'll lose all my motivation if I don't start losing after I wean Thomas.

Still Kickin'

Holy cow, it's been almost a month since I wrote here last! I'm still here.

I've had less time to blog, because I've been spending more time....exercising! Yippee...I finally got my rear in gear and am getting some exercise into my day.

The main thing that turned me around was getting a Nintento Wii and Wii Fit. It started out just as fun, but then I got hooked. I've been boxing, running, and doing strength exercises. Now, when I have an opportunity, I go outside to run. Otherwise I use the Wii. I exercise almost daily.

I wish the scale showed a difference, but I'm really pretty happy just with the improvements in how I feel. My clothes are more comfortable, I have more energy, and I sleep better. Exercise is a good thing.

A Better Idea For All This Weight

The average weight (mass) of two human arms is 3.35 kg, according to WikiAnswers. For those of us backward English system users, that's 7.39 pounds, or 3.7 pounds each.

Now, I have four children. Don't you think it would make sense for a mother to grow an extra arm for each new child she has? Those of you who are moms out there, know what I mean!

For me, that would be 3.7 pounds per arm x 4 new arms = 14.8 pounds

Hey...I'm 15 pounds overweight! Now, don't you think that an extra arm would make more sense than useless, artery clogging flab? I do.

I'm gonna have to talk to The Big Guy about this idea...

How Did I Get Here? Part III

I thought Part III would be my final, "I did it!" post. But the more I think about it, the more I have to say.

Remember when I said that my body just seemed to know that I'd be making babies, so it put on weight?

Yeah, well, that's not the whole story.

I also stopped running several times a week.

I also ate at restaurants more often.

I also began eating the same sized portions as my 200 pound boyfriend.

No so spontaneous after all...

How Did I Get Here? Part II

For Part I, click HERE.

About three months after meeting my husband to be, I noticed that my clothes weren't fitting quite right.

I had never owned a scale in my life...just weighed myself on the gym's scale from time to time. I noticed occasional "water weight" fluctuations, but they could almost always be attributed to food I'd eaten. But this water didn't seem to be going anywhere. So I bought my first scale.

I knew that my "normal" weight to that point was 125 pounds. I stepped on the scale, and the red digital numbers screamed back at me: 140. What?! That's not water!!

It's almost like my body knew before I did that I'd be making babies with this guy, and it had better get ready!

140 was actually a pretty good weight for me. I felt good. I looked good. I was healthy. I was insanely happy...but that had more to do with the guy than the weight :)

I stayed at 140 for the next 5 years. We graduated from college, we got married, we bought a house, we got jobs. Life was awesome. I was so in love and so happy.

And then we decided to have a baby.

Now, I'm a planner. I had it calculated practically to the second when I'd get pregnant. We paid off the bills so I could be a SAHM. I went off the pill...but those darn pregnancy tests kept coming back negative!

Eventually, we had to pursue professional help. Dr. Getchaprego (as we called him), informed me that I wasn't ovulating. I took the appropriate drugs...and I got pregnant the very first time. Nine months later, my precious Benjamin came into our lives. I gained about 30 pounds during pregnancy. I was down to my normal 140 pounds about 4 months after his birth.

We learned that I was pregnant again when Benjamin was 6 months old. I had another blessedly healthy pregnancy, and we had a healthy little girl...my sweet Clara Rose.

It was then that I started to struggle with post-partum depression.

I was determined to not be "depressed". I thought I just needed some extra sleep...so hubby did all he could to get up with babies and let me sleep in mornings. Didn't work.

I thought I just needed some exercise and "me" time...we bought me a gym membership and I began doing aerobics and lifting weights 3 times a week. Didn't work.

Finally, I relented and took an antidepressant. Sweet relief. Sometimes God gives healing in ways that I don't like...but at that point I just wanted healing.

Through all that exercise though, I got back in shape. I was back down to about 143 pounds. (3 pounds over my ideal)

When Clara was 2, we decided to try for another baby. It wasn't happening. The doc put me on progesterone, which seemed to add 5 pounds to my rear end over night. It also enabled me to get pregnant, so I didn't care one little bit about the extra padding :) (8 pounds over my ideal)

I gained another 30 pounds with that pregnancy, and our incredible Samantha was the result. I couldn't have been happier. She was a dream baby in every way, and I fell in love with her immediately.

After Sammy's birth, I lost all but about 3 pounds of the "baby weight". (11 pounds over my ideal)

I weaned Samantha from nursing when she was 13 months old, and learned that I was pregnant again one month later (seems my fertility problems are gone for good!!).

Again, a healthy pregnancy and my beautiful baby boy, Thomas. Bliss. And lots of feelings of being overwhelmed. But mostly happiness. I wouldn't change a thing.

And here I am. Thomas is going on 10 months old, and I've lost all but 4 pounds of my latest pregnancy weight...which brings me to 16 pounds over my ideal weight.

Given my history of being super skinny, very lean, and with lots of efficient fat burning muscle, being HERE (over weight, not so lean, and much less muscle) is a bit of a rude surprise!

But that's it. That's how I got here. This is my new starting point. I look forward to writing my "How Did I Get Here? Part III" post, where I'll write all about how I got back down to around 140 pounds :)

How Did I Get Here?

As I prepared and ate my lunch today, I was thinking about how it is that I got here...how I got to be 15 pounds overweight, and struggling so much to lose it.

Growing up, I was a skinny kid. Not thin, not fit...skinny. Ribs and shin bones showing skinny. It's not that I didn't eat. I did. A LOT. I guess I was blessed with a fast metabolism or something.

I was 5'8" all through high school, and about 105 pounds. That's really skinny. That's 40 pounds lighter that I am now!

I was very active...cheerleading, track, basketball. I rode my bike and walked a lot.

We moved to a new city for my junior and senior years of high school. I was lonely, so threw myself into the two things I was really involved in: basketball and school. It was the only time I can ever remember getting straight A's! And I also made the varsity basketball team. I think I must have just barely squeaked my way onto the team...wasn't all that good and didn't get much court time during games. But I worked my hiney off during practice!

I was getting a really intense workout about 2 1/2 hours every day. At the end of the BB season my junior year, I was up to 125 pounds...still too light for my height, but in very good shape! It was the heaviest I'd ever been, and I was all muscle.

My senior year, I chose to quit basketball (a hard decision, I'd been playing since the 3rd grade!). I had an opportunity to be a high school intern at a local high tech company, and just couldn't pass up the opportunity. The drop in exercise caused me to drop muscle. I dropped down to 120 pounds, and there I stayed.

I was at 120 my senior year of high school, and my first 4 years of college. I was eating like a horse, and I was eating junk...pizza, nachos, margaritas, burgers, fries.

I was too skinny. In fact, I went in for a free student "fitness exam" at the local health center. They tested all sorts of stuff, and I was within the normal to fit rages...until it came to the body fat test. I laid on a table, and the guy hooked me up to all sorts of electrodes.

Evidently, electricity flows through fat differently than it does through the other tissues in a human body. By turning on the electricity and measuring the resistance to the electricity's flow, they can determine a body fat content pretty accurately.

The guy did the test, mumbled something like "Well, that can't be right", unhooked me, did it again, mumbled a few other statements, and then unhooked me with an exasperated sigh. "I don't know...I think there's something wrong with my machine."

But then he stopped, looked me over, and asked "Are you getting your period?"

Well, excuse me?! I was about 19 years old...this wasn't a topic I was comfortable discussing with the guy at the health center!

"If you're not, then the test might actually be working."

I wasn't. It turns out, I had so little fat, that my body wasn't even working right!

Women are supposed to have more body fat than men, and my fat content was well below what was normal for an athletic man. Like I said...skinny.

And then, I met a very tall, handsome, broad shouldered, green-eyed man. My husband to be.