stones: 49, me: 1 (wk 1)

Week One: October 27, 2006
Weight: 194 pounds
Weeks until Mother's Day: 28
Weight Lost: 1 pound

Given my behavior the past week, I shouldn't have been surprised that my initial week's weight loss was not significant. But I was a little disappointed. Somehow I expected it to magically fall off. I fell back into old habits too easily although I did make some good choices some of the time, which is far better than none of the time (my standard M.O. lately).

I wasn't hungry (ever) this past week and I know from past successes that it's not realistic to lose weight and not be hungry some of the time. And at this rate, it will take me a year to lose all 50 pounds!

I did get in about eight miles walking over several days and my achilles tendon is only a little tender. I'll have to hang onto that and the promise of being able to log more miles soon.

I decided that I needed to come up with some reasonable mini-targets for myself to help keep me in the right frame of mind. Here's what I'm thinking (they might have been reasonable for the twentysomething me, we'll see how the late thirtysomething me manages):

11/31/2006: 185 (must lose 1.97 lbs week/avg)
12/31/2006: 175 (must lose 2.11 lbs week/avg)
2/14/2006: 160 (must lose 2.2 lbs week/avg)
5/13/2007: 145 (must lose 1.75 lb week/avg)

Until later.
-m

poochie must die

I caught sight of ye ol pooch proudly puffing out below my sweater yesterday. Blech.

I...must...get...a...grip. Pretty much ate crappy today following a day of sabotage and intrigue at the office. So in turn I sabotaged my weight loss efforts. I won't bore anyone with the details, but it got ugly. I needed comfort. I found some in ww chocolate treats and an Einstein bagel. At the moment, I really, really needed them (like I needed a hole in the head). Yay team! And, oh, Fruities will make you seriously gassy if you eat a whole package.

I've always been one to cram for things, to wait until I have the devil behind me, as my mom says (yes, the devil is behind me and all around me and thy name is lard). Somehow, I think I'm a little too close to the deadline this time to make much of a difference. Weigh in is Friday. Maybe I'll do a liquid dinner between now and then. Just so I don't show a gain (what kind of loser gains weight the first week on a diet, anyway?). I'm on program from now on though. It was not my intention to write about my struggles--I was hoping to chronicle my success. This is just a bump early on in the journey.

Next week, poochie will be under serious attack. Really.

Until later.
-m

second verse...same as the first

Saturday was a brutal day for watching what I ate. It was gruesome. I watched myself eat, and eat, and eat. Just like old times--you know, just like two weeks ago.

It started off with the kids' Halloween party. I volunteered and found myself refilling the snack table and sampling as well as finishing off what my kids took and didn't eat. Forgive the food porn but between the party and the humane society benefit that evening, I drank wine (the benefit was a beer/wine tasting!), ate dark chocolate, eggplant parmesan, pumpkin bread, popcorn mix, dirt cake, white cake with frosting and made some lame attempts at eating vegetables to offset the melee. All told, I effectively doubled what I am supposed to be eating in a given day and used all my "flex points" (plus two). I guess I'll just have to be super conscientious about what I eat this week and get off my lame ass and start moving.

The good news is, I didn't let this turn into a free for all the following day. I'm back on track. I did walk 3.5 miles today with minimal achilles tendon pain (except for the last mile). There is hope for me yet. Today was also the Chicago Marathon. The marathon I had hoped to run this year. Next year I'm there!

If you do what you've always done... (week 0)

I headed over to ww yesterday evening to weigh in. The weigh in wasn't pretty, as expected and the meeting itself was only a little painful.

For some inexplicable reason, the centers always seem to be right next to fast food restaurants (Dairy Queen, Red Robin, you get the picture). As I walked up to this particular location stomach rumbling (it was dinner time), the smell of fries and burgers taunted me. I've always gone to meetings hungry--as if that's going to make a huge impact on the tale from the scale. Fat is fat, stomach empty or full.

The interior resembed what you might find in a church basement--folding chairs laid out in a poorly lit room with torn posters on the wall. Not exactly inspiring.

Surprisingly there was only one (count 'em, one) person present with a case of the serious crazies (and it wasn't me). The leader was a cheerful, encouraging woman (I'll even forgive the assenine "name all the foods that are the color of fall folliage" exercise--they obviously don't think much of the typical consumer's mental capacity). When I stepped on the scale the leasder said something I can remind myself when I'm getting down about where am at: "You will never have to see that number again."

So, what is that horrific, terrible, how the $#@*! did I get here number? The ugly details to follow at next week's weigh in. Somehow I'll feel a lot better posting the details when I can post a loss next to the big, fat number (hint: it's much, much closer to 200 than 100 *gasp!*).

The plan for this week:
-write down everything I eat (duh)
-drink at least 64 ounces of water a day
-stay within my points range (24/day) and my "flex points" (35/wk)
-exercise at least 4 times this week
-come up with top ten reasons I want to lose weight (hmm...let's see: the kids, the husband, health, appearance, longevity, staving off diabetes, ability to run again, feeling freer, and most importantly, I don't want my daughter to grow up judging her worth by her appearance which is likely to happen with a mommy obsessed with her weight/food)

Until later.
-m

Happy Feet

There is some hope for me. I finally got off my ass and got some new custom orthotics made on Friday. Two days of running after the little ones (uphill today), and my ankle still feels good. Woo frickin hoo! Maybe I'll be able to start running again soon after all?

Here poochie, poochie...

I fear I am in serious danger of having a belly so big it will be entering rooms before the rest of me. That's totally acceptable when you are pregnant. I am not and have not been for almost two years. I blame my small breasts, I blame my twin skin (the lovely side effect of the pregnancy), I blame my inability to control my mindless eating fests, I blame my painfully slow metabolism (thanks, mom & dad!), I blame my frickin chronic achilles tendonitis which keeps me from running or even walking small distances. In the end, though, it all points to me and what I've done to my poor body.

So, tail tucked between my legs I head back to Weight Watchers. That is, in fact, someone else's fault. My friend Kristine, who appreciates the absurdity of it all as much as I do, informed me she was going. Having a partner in crime is the only thing that will get me through those doors. I think I resent the meetings because 1.) I already know most of what they're talking about, so meetings feel like a waste of time (it's the follow through I have trouble with), 2.) I had one really spectacular leader and the rest have been minorly irritating, 3.) I'm not really down with the whole rah, rah mentality the meetings seem to embrace, 4.) The people who bring you weight watchers are clearly insane (I rest my case).

I'll post the shockingly horrifying details of my current weight and stats later.

By the way, on Tuesday the stones made it into my car where they sat the entire day. Yesterday they actually made it into the office where they sat virually unnoticed by me the entire day. Apparently they aren't magic pebbles after all. And that whole writing down every little bite? There's some room for improvement there.

Until later.
-m

give or take a few

This blog was originally supposed to be called 47 stones. Then 48. Once I hit fifty, well, it was time to stop counting and start writing.

Yes, it's another blog about one woman's weight loss journey. It's really just for me but if you want to read along and offer some encouragement (or learn from my mistakes) you're welcome to join me.

About the name: I was in the park with my almost two-year old boy girl twins when the sun caught the reflection of the pea gravel. I swear, these little stones look just like mini-globules of fat. I counted out forty seven, pocketed them, carried them home, washed them up and put them on my desk. I thought I might keep two piles to track my progress. One, initially big pile on the left. As I lost weight, I was going to remove a stone for each pound and place it in the new pile on the right. Only they are all still sitting in the same spot on the left, gathering dust. And now I need to find three more.

I'm aware it sounds silly. I'm desperate. I've been looking for some mental trick to flip the switch, to make me stay present enough in this journey to make some progress. It was much easier before kids. Now I just don't have the time (or mental capacity, clearly) to remain in the game. I'm too easily distracted. I'm not nearly as vain as I used to be. I'm too tired.

So, anyway, here I go again. I've been dabbling with losing weight since the kids were born--and am ten pounds higher than my lowest post-pregnancy weight. I need to lose fifty. This week I am committing to writing down EVERY little (and not so little) bite that goes into my mouth. I can think of at least ten other things I should be doing to help me, but I am going to start small.

Until later. -m