So, I went on a cruise with my family last week, and as anyone who's been on a cruise knows, it's all about the food. A cruise virgin may ask, "Why in the heck would it be all about the food? Why would you make it all about the food when the rest of it is bathing suits and pool-side World's Sexiest Man competitions?" Well, Cruise Virgin, it's because the food is what's paid for in the cost of the cruise (as opposed to the alcohol, which you pay for on the ship). And because the food is pretty darn good. So why not order three entrees so that you can try things you would never take a risk of paying for at a restaurant?
I know, it's a combination of gluttony and the need to grasp with white knuckles anything that is "free" (not that it was free, but you know what I mean). I'm sticking to my aforementioned justification for ordering multiple entrees at the sit-down meals--the waiter made them smaller portions and everyone passed them around the table to try. I have to add that the first night I was met with mortified gasps when I ordered, but by night three everyone was in on the multiple entree ordering! So there!
So let's turn to the much more interesting phenomenon that lives around the clock on a cruise ship: the buffet. The buffet is by far the best solution to the unique crisis of feeding thousands of people. But the biggest problem with the buffet is that NO ONE--not even the woman delicately counting the number of sprouts she takes from the salad bar--can help looking like a gluttonous American cow grazing, eyes wide and glazed over with the promise of endless nom noms. I mean it - even the sprouts woman looks like another one of the cattle, shuffling along the grazing line.
Yes, there are people who KILL a buffet line, and they have the circumference to prove it--but that's not what I was really bothered by. One night there was ... wait for it ... a midnight buffet. Oh yes. And this midnight buffet was on the top deck, two long rows of food lined up next to the pool. Yes. Next to the pool. Flanking it, on both sides. The midnight buffet was actually part of a whole pool deck celebration, with a DJ and dancing and people in the pools and hot tubs. Great, right? Actually, from my perch on one of the elevated deck-chair rows, it was just icky--most people were in their bathing suits, dripping as they waited on an insanely long line for dinner number two. Like I said, this isn't about judging people for partaking--if I hadn't just gotten through with our late seating dinner, I probably would have had some too. This is about how it looked. I can't put my finger on it, but it disturbed me. It was far too reminiscent of something nonhuman--more animal than human for sure.
I spent many years working at Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian churrascaria where the food is unlimited. The primary service is table-side meat carving, but there is also an impressive (and inappropriately delicious) salad bar buffet in the middle of the restaurant. I remember that even when I worked there something always struck me as strange when I saw people line up at this fancy restaurant, nicely dressed, and stand there shuffling along, clutching their plates, waiting to get up to the first part of the buffet. I can't reconcile the fact that I love a buffet (so many options!), but I hate the way I look, we look, standing at it.
Portion control will always be my nemesis, and the buffet is the ultimate saboteur of moderation. I guess I want to hate it, but I love it, and our complicated Sam and Diane relationship will inevitably be memorialized in an HBO production starring Kirstie Alley and the starboard buffet line. Ugh ... I gag just thinking about watching it (but I want to go back for thirds!).
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Crash and Burn Diet
So yeah, we all know crash diets are bad for you blah blah blah, but after some lengthy research, I've decided I am enough of an expert to declare: They are all shams (I know! Breaking news, right?). And not shams like they don't work, but shams in that they don't do ANYTHING more than what healthy diets do - cut calories. It's a load of malarkey. I was looking for a dangerous fad diet that would be more effective than starving myself by somehow creating a chemical reaction in my body that would bend space and time, causing the fat to be burned at a rate greater than the traditional net loss of 3500 calories = 1 lb weight loss. It's just not out there - the math is fixed. As someone who has spent the past three years in law school mastering the art of "it depends," this is very upsetting.
What, tell me, WHAT is the point of eating lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup in water if it does NOTHING more than eating the same amount of calories but in the form of raw leafy greens? Why on earth would you trade boring yet nutritious veggies for disgusting napalm drink if it results in the same exact weight loss? UGH.
I guess what it comes down to is that we all know how it's supposed to work, but we look to the fad or crash diet because a small, irrational part of us wants to believe that the magic is out there. It's the same part of my brain that hopes I'm a muggle-born and my acceptance letter to the real-life Hogwarts just got lost in the mail. I'm sure that owl with the message clearing up the mistake is on his way as we speak.
I've decided that a "healthy" crash diet is in order. I'm going to try to take in the least amount of calories as possible, but the ones I do eat will be healthy. Raw veggies, turkey breast, no salt, no sugar, no booze - that drill. And of course workouts (blech ...). The book of shame food diary has been moved temporarily to the kitchen whiteboard to up the in-sight in-mind factor, and the fridge has been emptied of all enjoyable, fatty food (how I'll miss you so!).
Also, the timing of this is hilarious - of course I would start a diet where I will undoubtedly become cranky, headache-y, and plain old irritable right when I'm at my best: when I'm PMSing. It's actually great timing, truth be told. Why not pile diet bitchiness on top of monthly bitchiness for one week instead of two weeks of Bon Qui Qui back to back? I'd like to say I'll stick with this longer than a week, but I know myself better than that. I'm aiming for the one week jump start and then a happy medium afterward. I can dream, can't I? It's day one all over again, and we'll see how it goes from here ...
What, tell me, WHAT is the point of eating lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup in water if it does NOTHING more than eating the same amount of calories but in the form of raw leafy greens? Why on earth would you trade boring yet nutritious veggies for disgusting napalm drink if it results in the same exact weight loss? UGH.
I guess what it comes down to is that we all know how it's supposed to work, but we look to the fad or crash diet because a small, irrational part of us wants to believe that the magic is out there. It's the same part of my brain that hopes I'm a muggle-born and my acceptance letter to the real-life Hogwarts just got lost in the mail. I'm sure that owl with the message clearing up the mistake is on his way as we speak.
I've decided that a "healthy" crash diet is in order. I'm going to try to take in the least amount of calories as possible, but the ones I do eat will be healthy. Raw veggies, turkey breast, no salt, no sugar, no booze - that drill. And of course workouts (blech ...). The book of shame food diary has been moved temporarily to the kitchen whiteboard to up the in-sight in-mind factor, and the fridge has been emptied of all enjoyable, fatty food (how I'll miss you so!).
Also, the timing of this is hilarious - of course I would start a diet where I will undoubtedly become cranky, headache-y, and plain old irritable right when I'm at my best: when I'm PMSing. It's actually great timing, truth be told. Why not pile diet bitchiness on top of monthly bitchiness for one week instead of two weeks of Bon Qui Qui back to back? I'd like to say I'll stick with this longer than a week, but I know myself better than that. I'm aiming for the one week jump start and then a happy medium afterward. I can dream, can't I? It's day one all over again, and we'll see how it goes from here ...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Timing is Everything
So, lack of willpower and insatiable hunger aside, timing has become my greatest weight loss enemy. In an attempt to eat heavier meals earlier in the day (and in theory lighter ones later), I've turned into a late-night snacker, which has never really been a problem before. Full disclosure: these ridiculous diet pills I'm taking are co-conspirators. Okay, here's how my day goes.
Wake up, take a diet pill. It says it works best on an empty stomach, and to not eat anything for 30 minutes afterwards. So I do my morning teeth face hair dress routine, and only ten minutes have gone by. Man I'm hungry. I'm also tired. I guess I could fix both by napping for 20 minutes!
Wake up. Again. An hour later. Dammit! Well now I certainly don't have time to work out - got to start studying. At least I can eat now - the caffeine explosion in my stomach sounds like my grandma's cat that was on loan from the seventh circle of hell. And it's the first meal of the day, so it's gonna be a big one! A nice big healthy omelette with lots of veggies ... and of course some cheese (it tastes like nothing without cheese! and salt.) ... and I should probably use that delicious tomato sauce from last night (wait - didn't the boyfriend put butter and milk in it and that's why it tasted good? I don't remember ... but using up leftovers is totally a worthy goal - pour that deliciousness on!). So I end up eating a 1500 calorie omelette for breakfast. And iced coffee because it's summer! With lots of milk and sugar! It's the first meal of the day, it's fine ... I'll have all this burned off by lunch.
A couple of hours later and my eyes are glazed over from outlining. I mean, I'm sure turning a page every couple of minutes while sitting near-motionless at this table for hours has really done the trick of burning those morning calories. Brain cardio? Anyways, time to eat! But wait - that stupid diet pill. If I wait until an hour or two after I eat so that I have an empty-ish stomach I won't be able to go to sleep (they have like 3000% of your yearly dose of caffeine in each). So I should just take one now and hold out for a half hour.
After half an hour of acting like I'm doing work while I'm literally staring down my clock, watching the minute hand creep around, I tear through my fridge in a hunger rage. Some leftovers, a few bites of ice cream while they heat up ... I mean, it's lunch time so it's still an early meal, right? Dang - it's already 3pm? Well, I'll just skip dinner, and maybe I can get in a quick workout later.
Seven rolls around, and I ignore the growls. No - I will not eat! I ate two huge meals and burned approximately 5 calories today during my only physical activity: walking around the kitchen to cook. Just concentrate on studying. Maybe a workout? Neh ... And no - I couldn't even imagine a fake reason to insert while writing this.
Nine o'clock - ugh - no more studying. Gonna watch a little TV. I'm not hungry I'm not hungry I'm not hungry ...
Eleven - time for bed. I consider swallowing my toothpaste. I lay in bed, tired, but SOOO hungry.
Midnight - Eff it. Leftover chicken and rice with a reheated biscuit. Carbs, cream and carbs. Delicious, but shameful. Get back in bed, try to do it all differently the next day ...
Wake up, take a diet pill. It says it works best on an empty stomach, and to not eat anything for 30 minutes afterwards. So I do my morning teeth face hair dress routine, and only ten minutes have gone by. Man I'm hungry. I'm also tired. I guess I could fix both by napping for 20 minutes!
Wake up. Again. An hour later. Dammit! Well now I certainly don't have time to work out - got to start studying. At least I can eat now - the caffeine explosion in my stomach sounds like my grandma's cat that was on loan from the seventh circle of hell. And it's the first meal of the day, so it's gonna be a big one! A nice big healthy omelette with lots of veggies ... and of course some cheese (it tastes like nothing without cheese! and salt.) ... and I should probably use that delicious tomato sauce from last night (wait - didn't the boyfriend put butter and milk in it and that's why it tasted good? I don't remember ... but using up leftovers is totally a worthy goal - pour that deliciousness on!). So I end up eating a 1500 calorie omelette for breakfast. And iced coffee because it's summer! With lots of milk and sugar! It's the first meal of the day, it's fine ... I'll have all this burned off by lunch.
A couple of hours later and my eyes are glazed over from outlining. I mean, I'm sure turning a page every couple of minutes while sitting near-motionless at this table for hours has really done the trick of burning those morning calories. Brain cardio? Anyways, time to eat! But wait - that stupid diet pill. If I wait until an hour or two after I eat so that I have an empty-ish stomach I won't be able to go to sleep (they have like 3000% of your yearly dose of caffeine in each). So I should just take one now and hold out for a half hour.
After half an hour of acting like I'm doing work while I'm literally staring down my clock, watching the minute hand creep around, I tear through my fridge in a hunger rage. Some leftovers, a few bites of ice cream while they heat up ... I mean, it's lunch time so it's still an early meal, right? Dang - it's already 3pm? Well, I'll just skip dinner, and maybe I can get in a quick workout later.
Seven rolls around, and I ignore the growls. No - I will not eat! I ate two huge meals and burned approximately 5 calories today during my only physical activity: walking around the kitchen to cook. Just concentrate on studying. Maybe a workout? Neh ... And no - I couldn't even imagine a fake reason to insert while writing this.
Nine o'clock - ugh - no more studying. Gonna watch a little TV. I'm not hungry I'm not hungry I'm not hungry ...
Eleven - time for bed. I consider swallowing my toothpaste. I lay in bed, tired, but SOOO hungry.
Midnight - Eff it. Leftover chicken and rice with a reheated biscuit. Carbs, cream and carbs. Delicious, but shameful. Get back in bed, try to do it all differently the next day ...
Friday, July 8, 2011
Lemons, Lemonade, and the Bitter Bright Side
Well, I've certainly been off track, haven't I? The law school finals, the graduation, the weddings, the bar study classes; they've served admirably as the the greatest excuses in my life for the eating and not working out that have resulted in my personal best for weight gain.
But as I find myself panicking with the bar exam far too near in the future, I am finally reversing the excuses - working out and cooking healthy meals is now my way to briefly excuse myself from studying. (And of course blogging about it serves the same purpose.) It's an excuse, yes, but it's a structured and necessary excuse. My first year of law school, I was on a steady workout kick before and during exams, and it worked wonders. I slept like a baby and forgot about my usually looming-large largeness insecurities (replaced, of course, with my holy-crap-what-the-hell-is-a-fee-tail insecurities). So here I am, full circle (still don't know what a fee tail is), hoping to apply something other than studying that will help me live through this. Don't get me wrong, the hour I spent on the treadmill this morning I spent staring at notes -- but in all honesty I can't say it's valuable study time when it takes 10 minutes to get through one bouncingbouncingbouncing page. But it's worth it because I can't live with myself unless I'm studying 12 hours a day for this though my brain only holds up well for 8 hours of studying.
And a note about all the melodrama: This is for me--I'm writing to take a break and to self-medicate. I know I'm whining - sue me. But honestly, the bar is the first thing in all of law school that has truly lived up to the hype of being as awful as everyone says it is. With that, back to making charts.
But as I find myself panicking with the bar exam far too near in the future, I am finally reversing the excuses - working out and cooking healthy meals is now my way to briefly excuse myself from studying. (And of course blogging about it serves the same purpose.) It's an excuse, yes, but it's a structured and necessary excuse. My first year of law school, I was on a steady workout kick before and during exams, and it worked wonders. I slept like a baby and forgot about my usually looming-large largeness insecurities (replaced, of course, with my holy-crap-what-the-hell-is-a-fee-tail insecurities). So here I am, full circle (still don't know what a fee tail is), hoping to apply something other than studying that will help me live through this. Don't get me wrong, the hour I spent on the treadmill this morning I spent staring at notes -- but in all honesty I can't say it's valuable study time when it takes 10 minutes to get through one bouncingbouncingbouncing page. But it's worth it because I can't live with myself unless I'm studying 12 hours a day for this though my brain only holds up well for 8 hours of studying.
And a note about all the melodrama: This is for me--I'm writing to take a break and to self-medicate. I know I'm whining - sue me. But honestly, the bar is the first thing in all of law school that has truly lived up to the hype of being as awful as everyone says it is. With that, back to making charts.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Days Back Then through Something-or-Other
Okay, that's enough of the counting - I can't possibly justify trying to backtrack the days I've missed. Anyhoo, here I am, in the present, and a fat lard to boot. I'm trying to get back into the blogs and fitness and healthy eating because yesterday I caught a glimpse of myself naked in the mirror and gagged. Yeah, it's bad. I'm sure you can see all the excuses coming, but I'll spare you. All you need to know to catch you up to today is that I've been cashing in on all the end-of-year free meals and it culminated in my thinking that the Michelin Man had broken into my bedroom yesterday, but it was just the aforementioned reflection of myself in the mirror.
So yesterday I hopped back on the bandwagon, hoping that this time I can keep it together with enough perseverance and intensity to maybe be able to enjoy at least one month out at the pool in a bathing suit this summer. I can't believe "bathing suit" is a dirty word now - when did that happen? Ugh - I feel so old. I should just give up now and resign myself to being one of those old leathery cows washed up on a reclining chair on Daytona Beach, straining to slather oil on the back of my gigantic fat arms and barely able to lift up one ass cheek to pick a wedgie from my leopard print one-piece bathing suit (complete with attached skirt). It's that or never go to the beach again, and the latter is out of the question. Optimism ahoy!
Seriously, yesterday I went shopping and cooked for the week - pea and asparagus soup, coq au vin, ground turkey chilaquiles, and salads. This morning I went for a run (okay, mostly a walk, but there was running involved) and did some pathetic dumbbell exercises. Please God let this keep my arms from reaching a twenty-inch circumference.
As you might be able to tell, I'm in a bit of a funk. I had a few suspicions about why, and I think they are partly to blame, but as I came back into school and sat down at my desk to write this, I think the big reason came to me: school is over. No more classes. Just a few papers, a final, and that's it. And the problem with that is that law school is what I'm good at. I hope I'll be good at whatever I do after this, but it's always a little bit scary to leave something you're comfortable with. I came in to the office and looked at all the empty desks. All the 3Ls had probably reveled in clearing out their spaces. But my desk is full - books, binders, Westlaw printouts, coffee mug, gym equipment and a spare set of flip flops hanging out underneath. Am I just being reluctant, or am I in a full blown state of denial?
Whichever it is, time to get over it and man up. I hear my dad's voice again: "WALK IT OFF!" As usual, he's right. Time to bang this thing out and move on to something bigger and better, whatever it is. And if I fail miserably, may I have stuck with the health kick and become hot!
So yesterday I hopped back on the bandwagon, hoping that this time I can keep it together with enough perseverance and intensity to maybe be able to enjoy at least one month out at the pool in a bathing suit this summer. I can't believe "bathing suit" is a dirty word now - when did that happen? Ugh - I feel so old. I should just give up now and resign myself to being one of those old leathery cows washed up on a reclining chair on Daytona Beach, straining to slather oil on the back of my gigantic fat arms and barely able to lift up one ass cheek to pick a wedgie from my leopard print one-piece bathing suit (complete with attached skirt). It's that or never go to the beach again, and the latter is out of the question. Optimism ahoy!
Seriously, yesterday I went shopping and cooked for the week - pea and asparagus soup, coq au vin, ground turkey chilaquiles, and salads. This morning I went for a run (okay, mostly a walk, but there was running involved) and did some pathetic dumbbell exercises. Please God let this keep my arms from reaching a twenty-inch circumference.
As you might be able to tell, I'm in a bit of a funk. I had a few suspicions about why, and I think they are partly to blame, but as I came back into school and sat down at my desk to write this, I think the big reason came to me: school is over. No more classes. Just a few papers, a final, and that's it. And the problem with that is that law school is what I'm good at. I hope I'll be good at whatever I do after this, but it's always a little bit scary to leave something you're comfortable with. I came in to the office and looked at all the empty desks. All the 3Ls had probably reveled in clearing out their spaces. But my desk is full - books, binders, Westlaw printouts, coffee mug, gym equipment and a spare set of flip flops hanging out underneath. Am I just being reluctant, or am I in a full blown state of denial?
Whichever it is, time to get over it and man up. I hear my dad's voice again: "WALK IT OFF!" As usual, he's right. Time to bang this thing out and move on to something bigger and better, whatever it is. And if I fail miserably, may I have stuck with the health kick and become hot!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Days 16-22: The Prince Diaries
Holy Cannoli. This past week has been absolutely incredible. I went to New York to compete in the Prince Evidence moot court competition, and my team won the whole thing. The WHOLE thing. Yeah.
So what comes with victory? Absolution! That's right - every piece of piece of cake, every bite of pasta, every second trip to the buffet line was not only worth it, but necessary. I have my extra pasta pounds to thank for making my skirt too tight and consequently making me stand up straighter with my stomach sucked in so that I didn't split the skirt. Who knows? Maybe if I were slightly more slouched I wouldn't have made it as far ...
In the spirit of blindly ignoring the purpose for this "healthier living" blog, I will now brag about all the delicious food I overindulged in. The never-ending pasta service at Becco (Manhattan, theater district) included mushroom and sage ravioli, tomato and basil spaghetti, and orecchiette with bacon and swiss chard - as always, it was all heavenly. And, as always, I ate more than any reasonable woman should. Another highlight was the grilled duck salad at Bar Tabac on Smith St. in Brooklyn - earthy duck, peppery arugula, bacon, walnuts and a grape dressing made for a perfect lunch on a cold and rainy day. Also on Smith St. was Yoshi sushi - I had one of the best rolls I've ever tasted - it was spicy tuna and avocado, but instead of seaweed as a wrapper they used shaved cucumber - the cool, crunchy cucumber and creamy avocado contrasting the spicy tuna was just perfect. And of course, there was the food at Brooklyn Law School for the competition - let me tell you, these people know how to entertain - everything from the daily buffets to the over-the-top final banquet (the mac and cheese was to die for). It was all wonderful.
But despite the expansion of my waste line over the course of the weekend, I did manage to make it to the hotel gym every morning of the competition. And by make it to the gym I mean to pass through it to get to the whirlpool. Okay, I did actually do some light yoga and walking, but come on, who can turn down a whirlpool?!?!? And for reals - I did LOTS of walking. The last day I walked from Brooklyn to the East Village. And then I ate Pierogies in cheese sauce in the East Village. But the important thing is that I walked there.
But of course, the meal I was looking forward to most was Mom's home cooking on the last night of the trip. Mom and Dad had the teammates and I out to Long Island for a victory dinner with my sister and her boyfriend. Wine way too nice for the occasion was brought out, and we ate stromboli, cheese, lasagna, Italian salad, meatballs, and homemade zeppoles until we were fit to burst. We drank liquid gold dessert wine, moved to the living room, and watched the Top Chef finale. We watched hysterical YouTube videos and cracked up over the Bronz Zoo cobra's tweets and the AccuWeatherman's threats to lay the hammer of snow on the cobra. My brother left work early so he could stop by for a surprise hello. It was perfect. The perfect ending to a perfect weekend of hard work, satisfaction, good friends, good food, and fun. As my dad says, "This is what life is all about." It sure is. I'll get back on the bandwagon once my feet are back on the ground.
And for your viewing enjoyment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heeTNhUnC3U&feature=player_embedded#at=25
So what comes with victory? Absolution! That's right - every piece of piece of cake, every bite of pasta, every second trip to the buffet line was not only worth it, but necessary. I have my extra pasta pounds to thank for making my skirt too tight and consequently making me stand up straighter with my stomach sucked in so that I didn't split the skirt. Who knows? Maybe if I were slightly more slouched I wouldn't have made it as far ...
In the spirit of blindly ignoring the purpose for this "healthier living" blog, I will now brag about all the delicious food I overindulged in. The never-ending pasta service at Becco (Manhattan, theater district) included mushroom and sage ravioli, tomato and basil spaghetti, and orecchiette with bacon and swiss chard - as always, it was all heavenly. And, as always, I ate more than any reasonable woman should. Another highlight was the grilled duck salad at Bar Tabac on Smith St. in Brooklyn - earthy duck, peppery arugula, bacon, walnuts and a grape dressing made for a perfect lunch on a cold and rainy day. Also on Smith St. was Yoshi sushi - I had one of the best rolls I've ever tasted - it was spicy tuna and avocado, but instead of seaweed as a wrapper they used shaved cucumber - the cool, crunchy cucumber and creamy avocado contrasting the spicy tuna was just perfect. And of course, there was the food at Brooklyn Law School for the competition - let me tell you, these people know how to entertain - everything from the daily buffets to the over-the-top final banquet (the mac and cheese was to die for). It was all wonderful.
But despite the expansion of my waste line over the course of the weekend, I did manage to make it to the hotel gym every morning of the competition. And by make it to the gym I mean to pass through it to get to the whirlpool. Okay, I did actually do some light yoga and walking, but come on, who can turn down a whirlpool?!?!? And for reals - I did LOTS of walking. The last day I walked from Brooklyn to the East Village. And then I ate Pierogies in cheese sauce in the East Village. But the important thing is that I walked there.
But of course, the meal I was looking forward to most was Mom's home cooking on the last night of the trip. Mom and Dad had the teammates and I out to Long Island for a victory dinner with my sister and her boyfriend. Wine way too nice for the occasion was brought out, and we ate stromboli, cheese, lasagna, Italian salad, meatballs, and homemade zeppoles until we were fit to burst. We drank liquid gold dessert wine, moved to the living room, and watched the Top Chef finale. We watched hysterical YouTube videos and cracked up over the Bronz Zoo cobra's tweets and the AccuWeatherman's threats to lay the hammer of snow on the cobra. My brother left work early so he could stop by for a surprise hello. It was perfect. The perfect ending to a perfect weekend of hard work, satisfaction, good friends, good food, and fun. As my dad says, "This is what life is all about." It sure is. I'll get back on the bandwagon once my feet are back on the ground.
And for your viewing enjoyment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heeTNhUnC3U&feature=player_embedded#at=25
Monday, March 28, 2011
Days 12-15: The Visitor's Dilemma
Time to reset. To call this past weekend a high calorie one is probably the understatement of the year. And the work outs? Ummm ... I don't think I even walked up a single flight of stairs.
My college roommate was in from out of town for the first time in years, and as we all know, when people are in town we go out to eat in interesting and unique-to-Atlanta places. And as we also know, when someone lived here before, one of the best parts of the visit is going to that old favorite and reminiscing. Three days of delicious food and reminiscing later, I'm actually having a hard time beating myself up as bad as I should. I had such a great time--I laughed so hard my sides were killing me and I ate some delicious and memorable meals. If I gained a few pounds because of it, so be it.
But this next week, the tables are turned. I'm going back to New York for a moot court competition, and I want to reminisce, even if it's with myself--and by reminisce I mean have a chicken roll and a slice from Gino's. YUM. Yeah--the diet is doomed for another weekend. And I can't help but wonder, am I just making excuses? Of course some weekends are easier than others to label as "special" and deserving of free reign of any menu in front of me. But how sparse do the special occasions have to be if I'm really going to be a healthier eater in general? And don't give me the "order the healthy stuff on the menu" crap--if I'm going to pay for it it's going to be really yummy and something that would be difficult and/or time consuming for me to make at home. Osso bucco baby!
The other big part of the problem: I cook as extravagantly at home as I eat when I'm out. I hate cooking rabbit food--it just doesn't feel like cooking. Ugh--all that chopping to make a salad that only keeps you full for an hour at most. But I guess I have to get over what I "like" and start kicking my own butt into gear. I know I was supposed to be doing that since this started, but I'm starting to see that I really need to change the way I organize my day and the way I want my food to taste if I'm going to make any headway.
There's plenty of other great stuff in my life--I guess I can sacrifice some of the yummies if it gets me out of the deep end. Wow--when I think about not eating yummy stuff every time I eat I want to cry. That's really pathetic. And I'm craving veal. Just saying.
My college roommate was in from out of town for the first time in years, and as we all know, when people are in town we go out to eat in interesting and unique-to-Atlanta places. And as we also know, when someone lived here before, one of the best parts of the visit is going to that old favorite and reminiscing. Three days of delicious food and reminiscing later, I'm actually having a hard time beating myself up as bad as I should. I had such a great time--I laughed so hard my sides were killing me and I ate some delicious and memorable meals. If I gained a few pounds because of it, so be it.
But this next week, the tables are turned. I'm going back to New York for a moot court competition, and I want to reminisce, even if it's with myself--and by reminisce I mean have a chicken roll and a slice from Gino's. YUM. Yeah--the diet is doomed for another weekend. And I can't help but wonder, am I just making excuses? Of course some weekends are easier than others to label as "special" and deserving of free reign of any menu in front of me. But how sparse do the special occasions have to be if I'm really going to be a healthier eater in general? And don't give me the "order the healthy stuff on the menu" crap--if I'm going to pay for it it's going to be really yummy and something that would be difficult and/or time consuming for me to make at home. Osso bucco baby!
The other big part of the problem: I cook as extravagantly at home as I eat when I'm out. I hate cooking rabbit food--it just doesn't feel like cooking. Ugh--all that chopping to make a salad that only keeps you full for an hour at most. But I guess I have to get over what I "like" and start kicking my own butt into gear. I know I was supposed to be doing that since this started, but I'm starting to see that I really need to change the way I organize my day and the way I want my food to taste if I'm going to make any headway.
There's plenty of other great stuff in my life--I guess I can sacrifice some of the yummies if it gets me out of the deep end. Wow--when I think about not eating yummy stuff every time I eat I want to cry. That's really pathetic. And I'm craving veal. Just saying.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Days 9 Through 11 - I'm Actually Fatter
What's got two thumbs and gains weight when it works out? This guy. That's right - coming up on the two week mark and I've managed to gain four pounds. Awesome.
There was some good news. On Tuesday my faux hernia felt less like a serious injury and more like a strained muscle, so I took a change on P90X yoga - I figured stretching it out was the best course of action at this point (WALK IT OFF!!!, I hear my dad say in my head). I turn on the DVD, and how long is the time bar on the screen? An hour and a half. Ninety minutes of Tony laughing at my yoga form. That's right, Tony even leads the yoga workout. And he wears uncomfortable-to-look-at tight leggings while doing it (with a loose t-shirt - what the heck is that?). Turns out, it was excruciating, but it was a solution. I couldn't do a lot of the push up maneuvers because by stomach hurt too much, but I got through the whole thing and I felt a million times better the next morning. That's right - pain and gain.
But I take issue with the sneakiness of the P90X makers - during Absplosion! Tony says that you don't work out your abs every day, just like you don't work your other muscle groups every day. But then, in the DVD for the day after a workout with Absplosion!, there are fifteen minutes of EXTREME YOGA ABS. Torture, I tell you. Thank goodness I'm coating my over-worked abs with this extra cushioning.
What workout did I do yesterday? I climbed the stairs to my car on the 6th floor of the parking deck. Yeah. That's all I've got. I was in heels ...
Today's workout? Driving range! I know - I'm tempting fate, but it's so nice outside!
On a final note about how my "healthier lifestyle" is ruining my life, my giant water bottle that I'm lugging around to encourage me to drink more water somehow leaked or spilled, and my phone has suffered the consequences. I had to change bags, and I spent the morning wondering how I was going to come up with the money for a new phone or the time to go get it. It was shaky there for a while, but just when it looked like the phone going to survive (screen staying on, intermittent signs of life), I go into the second purse and see that the salad with vinaigrette I packed for lunch had leaked all over it ... and all over my phone.
Well, my college roommate is coming to town this weekend, so I guess healthy living is out the window for a few days. Maybe without salads, dressing, and workouts I'll have a carefree weekend of no spillage - I'll probably lose a few pounds, just to really shoot logic down.
There was some good news. On Tuesday my faux hernia felt less like a serious injury and more like a strained muscle, so I took a change on P90X yoga - I figured stretching it out was the best course of action at this point (WALK IT OFF!!!, I hear my dad say in my head). I turn on the DVD, and how long is the time bar on the screen? An hour and a half. Ninety minutes of Tony laughing at my yoga form. That's right, Tony even leads the yoga workout. And he wears uncomfortable-to-look-at tight leggings while doing it (with a loose t-shirt - what the heck is that?). Turns out, it was excruciating, but it was a solution. I couldn't do a lot of the push up maneuvers because by stomach hurt too much, but I got through the whole thing and I felt a million times better the next morning. That's right - pain and gain.
But I take issue with the sneakiness of the P90X makers - during Absplosion! Tony says that you don't work out your abs every day, just like you don't work your other muscle groups every day. But then, in the DVD for the day after a workout with Absplosion!, there are fifteen minutes of EXTREME YOGA ABS. Torture, I tell you. Thank goodness I'm coating my over-worked abs with this extra cushioning.
What workout did I do yesterday? I climbed the stairs to my car on the 6th floor of the parking deck. Yeah. That's all I've got. I was in heels ...
Today's workout? Driving range! I know - I'm tempting fate, but it's so nice outside!
On a final note about how my "healthier lifestyle" is ruining my life, my giant water bottle that I'm lugging around to encourage me to drink more water somehow leaked or spilled, and my phone has suffered the consequences. I had to change bags, and I spent the morning wondering how I was going to come up with the money for a new phone or the time to go get it. It was shaky there for a while, but just when it looked like the phone going to survive (screen staying on, intermittent signs of life), I go into the second purse and see that the salad with vinaigrette I packed for lunch had leaked all over it ... and all over my phone.
Well, my college roommate is coming to town this weekend, so I guess healthy living is out the window for a few days. Maybe without salads, dressing, and workouts I'll have a carefree weekend of no spillage - I'll probably lose a few pounds, just to really shoot logic down.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Days Five Through Eight - A Lapse, and Possibly a Hernia
Well, I guess the public shaming is working. I didn't write during the last few days because I was slacking off my diet, workout, and internet. So I didn't expose my failure. But to write again, I feel I have to explain the last few days. So shame it is. Hopefully this embarrassment will be preemptive next time.
Thursday evening I had one of those moments that really shows how vital food is to my happiness. I was starving after my spin workout and leaving school to go to an alumni mixer. I called the boyfriend just to say hey ... and I was a total bitch. He was nothing but nice, asking about my day, but my hunger somehow twisted that into him not saying enough words on the phone, being selfish and rude, and killing puppies to take over the world. He was, of course, doing none of those things, but that's what I heard through my food-deprived ears. I hung up in a huff, drove to the mixer, and the minute I put that first delicious southwestern chicken egg roll into my mouth, I thought back to the phone conversation. Crap. Add to the to-do list: apology. How many calories is pride, again?
Friday was a road trip to Athens for a moot court round, and I'm counting walking as my workout that day. I actually say that with a straight face - I was running errands downtown in Altanta that morning, walked to dinner that night, and walked around Athens during the day. And it was hot. And I was walking briskly.
The food - diet failure, taste victory. If you love New Orleans cuisine and are in Athens, hit up NONA on Broad St. I had the grilled chicken maque choux and creamed spinach. DELICIOUS, though fattening. The plus is that the portions were on the smaller side (not something I would normally rave about, but it was good for guilt and kept me from falling asleep during the moot court round).
Until today, Saturday was a good day. Well, it was a good food day still - smoothies, eggs, salads. And it was an okay workout day except for the fact that I now think I have to take a workout break because of it. I went to the driving range (okay, not a really intense work out, but good physical activity nonetheless). Made a decent showing considering how long it had been since I last swung a club.
But then, without warning: the dreaded swing of doom. I hit a ball and felt a pain rip across my lower abdomen. I can only describe it as 'right in the baby maker.' Yes - I honestly thought I tore my uterus muscles. After a few minutes of recovery, I figured I had just pulled too hard on my already-sore-from-two-absplosions lower abs. I shook it off, went home, didn't think much about it.
Sunday - pain. Really annoying pain. So no workout, of course. How to pass the time ... I know! Cooking! With the boyfriend's help I made coq au vin, which I ate too much of. But still, it was delicious - so that makes it okay, right?
Monday. How? How does it still hurt this bad? And it's swollen?!?! Of all the places I don't need swelling, my lower stomach is probably numero uno. I wondered all day if I had a hernia. Can women even get hernias? Ah! I'm positive my insurance is not going to just take care of this - it was hard enough trying to get a prescription for Allegra before it went OTC. So instead of going to the doctor, what do I do? Why, consult the infinite wisdom of the World Wide Web, of course! WebMD confirmed that women can indeed get hernias, but looking at the symptoms, I don't think that's my issue.
Of course I didn't work out today, and I ate buffet appetizers at an evening event, so today is not a great 'wellness' day. I actually got home with time to do P90X, but I think it would be foolish to mess with Tony in my current state. I can just picture it now - I go to do a power warrior pose, Tony encouraging me to stay light-headed and nauseous (that's how you know it's working!), and as I go to switch positions my intestines burst forth from my over-strained abdomen. No thanks.
Thursday evening I had one of those moments that really shows how vital food is to my happiness. I was starving after my spin workout and leaving school to go to an alumni mixer. I called the boyfriend just to say hey ... and I was a total bitch. He was nothing but nice, asking about my day, but my hunger somehow twisted that into him not saying enough words on the phone, being selfish and rude, and killing puppies to take over the world. He was, of course, doing none of those things, but that's what I heard through my food-deprived ears. I hung up in a huff, drove to the mixer, and the minute I put that first delicious southwestern chicken egg roll into my mouth, I thought back to the phone conversation. Crap. Add to the to-do list: apology. How many calories is pride, again?
Friday was a road trip to Athens for a moot court round, and I'm counting walking as my workout that day. I actually say that with a straight face - I was running errands downtown in Altanta that morning, walked to dinner that night, and walked around Athens during the day. And it was hot. And I was walking briskly.
The food - diet failure, taste victory. If you love New Orleans cuisine and are in Athens, hit up NONA on Broad St. I had the grilled chicken maque choux and creamed spinach. DELICIOUS, though fattening. The plus is that the portions were on the smaller side (not something I would normally rave about, but it was good for guilt and kept me from falling asleep during the moot court round).
Until today, Saturday was a good day. Well, it was a good food day still - smoothies, eggs, salads. And it was an okay workout day except for the fact that I now think I have to take a workout break because of it. I went to the driving range (okay, not a really intense work out, but good physical activity nonetheless). Made a decent showing considering how long it had been since I last swung a club.
But then, without warning: the dreaded swing of doom. I hit a ball and felt a pain rip across my lower abdomen. I can only describe it as 'right in the baby maker.' Yes - I honestly thought I tore my uterus muscles. After a few minutes of recovery, I figured I had just pulled too hard on my already-sore-from-two-absplosions lower abs. I shook it off, went home, didn't think much about it.
Sunday - pain. Really annoying pain. So no workout, of course. How to pass the time ... I know! Cooking! With the boyfriend's help I made coq au vin, which I ate too much of. But still, it was delicious - so that makes it okay, right?
Monday. How? How does it still hurt this bad? And it's swollen?!?! Of all the places I don't need swelling, my lower stomach is probably numero uno. I wondered all day if I had a hernia. Can women even get hernias? Ah! I'm positive my insurance is not going to just take care of this - it was hard enough trying to get a prescription for Allegra before it went OTC. So instead of going to the doctor, what do I do? Why, consult the infinite wisdom of the World Wide Web, of course! WebMD confirmed that women can indeed get hernias, but looking at the symptoms, I don't think that's my issue.
Of course I didn't work out today, and I ate buffet appetizers at an evening event, so today is not a great 'wellness' day. I actually got home with time to do P90X, but I think it would be foolish to mess with Tony in my current state. I can just picture it now - I go to do a power warrior pose, Tony encouraging me to stay light-headed and nauseous (that's how you know it's working!), and as I go to switch positions my intestines burst forth from my over-strained abdomen. No thanks.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Day Four - The Beached Whale
Well, last night consisted of both a breakthrough and a breakdown.
First, the good news. P90X, though it whipped my ass (as usual), actually ended up providing some hope. Arms were rough, but do-able (though I'm sure the fact that I was using eight pound weights and Tony had three ton dumbbells had something to do with that). But then, without warning, ABSPLOSION! That's right - my mortal enemy had returned as a surprise at the end of the hour-long arms workout. But here's the good part - it was easier than last time. I'm pretty sure I'm not any stronger (and I sure as hell was sorer than I was the first time I attempted it), so I'm going to chock this up to it not all being totally new.
One particularly embarrassing--and thus share-worthy--moment. I am officially changing the name of the "Oblique V" move to "The Beached Whale." This involves laying on your side, non-side-down arm up behind your head, legs extended out (but at a thirty degree angle in front of you). Then, you're supposed to do what the people in the video do - lift your legs and head up to the ceiling, creating a V, but on your side. Sure! I'll give that a go! I was a dancer, for goodness sake!
Result: FAIL. I couldn't keep my legs together for some reason as I raised them off the floor, and my ass, though fat, did not provide enough stability to keep me from involuntarily rolling about. Ladies and gentleman, The Beached Whale. Bring your camera, kids, and a spray bottle if you're feeling merciful.
So even though it wasn't great, I definitely felt this was the most do-able workout day yet in the P90X routine. So what went wrong yesterday?
I think I have a tapeworm. Or SOMETHING. I mean, I hope there's something medically wrong with me that can explain my need to stuff my face. Okay, that's not true - no disrespect to those actually fighting off their own parasites or diseases (more power to y'all). But really, I finish a killer workout, think that I won't be able to finish more than a few bites of the chicken I've had baking while I work out, then BAM. An entire ONE POUND split chicken breast has disappeared, along with an ENTIRE BAG of Green Giant Veggie Steamers. How many servings were in that bag? Three! THREE! Who needs three servings of vegetables and one pound of chicken? Oh yeah - I took the somewhat healthy jus and turned it into gravy to smother everything in. Who needs three servings of vegetables, a pound of chicken, and gravy? At eleven o'clock at night!?!?!
Me. I honestly could not stop myself - I finished the modest serving I first plated, and I was still ravenous. I figured more of this decently healthy meal was better than some sort of dessert, so I proceeded to finish the bag of veggies, the chicken breast, and the pan of gravy.
Okay - solution time. First off, I need to seriously commit to drinking WAY more water. I heard once that we often mistake thirst for hunger - let's try ticking that off the list before I start sprinkling rat poison over my meals. Also, I didn't have any caffeine yesterday. While that is in the long term better for me, I think not having a diuretic take some of the hunger edge off during the day might do more harm than good at this point. So the up side: coffee this morning! And water - dang it! Remember to drink more water!
Day Four's workout was spin class instead of P90X. I'm not wussing out - I just know that my body requires cardio to lose significant weight. I actually don't mind weight training that much, which was another reason I liked the idea of P90X, but I'm really trying to face the music here, so extra cardio it is. Also, spin was at noon, so I might actually get to eat dinner at a normal hour tonight instead of having to wait until after getting home, working out, and cooking (I put enchiladas in the slow cooker last night, so tonight will be minimal prep). Gonna do my best to eat less than two pounds of food tonight.
First, the good news. P90X, though it whipped my ass (as usual), actually ended up providing some hope. Arms were rough, but do-able (though I'm sure the fact that I was using eight pound weights and Tony had three ton dumbbells had something to do with that). But then, without warning, ABSPLOSION! That's right - my mortal enemy had returned as a surprise at the end of the hour-long arms workout. But here's the good part - it was easier than last time. I'm pretty sure I'm not any stronger (and I sure as hell was sorer than I was the first time I attempted it), so I'm going to chock this up to it not all being totally new.
One particularly embarrassing--and thus share-worthy--moment. I am officially changing the name of the "Oblique V" move to "The Beached Whale." This involves laying on your side, non-side-down arm up behind your head, legs extended out (but at a thirty degree angle in front of you). Then, you're supposed to do what the people in the video do - lift your legs and head up to the ceiling, creating a V, but on your side. Sure! I'll give that a go! I was a dancer, for goodness sake!
Result: FAIL. I couldn't keep my legs together for some reason as I raised them off the floor, and my ass, though fat, did not provide enough stability to keep me from involuntarily rolling about. Ladies and gentleman, The Beached Whale. Bring your camera, kids, and a spray bottle if you're feeling merciful.
So even though it wasn't great, I definitely felt this was the most do-able workout day yet in the P90X routine. So what went wrong yesterday?
I think I have a tapeworm. Or SOMETHING. I mean, I hope there's something medically wrong with me that can explain my need to stuff my face. Okay, that's not true - no disrespect to those actually fighting off their own parasites or diseases (more power to y'all). But really, I finish a killer workout, think that I won't be able to finish more than a few bites of the chicken I've had baking while I work out, then BAM. An entire ONE POUND split chicken breast has disappeared, along with an ENTIRE BAG of Green Giant Veggie Steamers. How many servings were in that bag? Three! THREE! Who needs three servings of vegetables and one pound of chicken? Oh yeah - I took the somewhat healthy jus and turned it into gravy to smother everything in. Who needs three servings of vegetables, a pound of chicken, and gravy? At eleven o'clock at night!?!?!
Me. I honestly could not stop myself - I finished the modest serving I first plated, and I was still ravenous. I figured more of this decently healthy meal was better than some sort of dessert, so I proceeded to finish the bag of veggies, the chicken breast, and the pan of gravy.
Okay - solution time. First off, I need to seriously commit to drinking WAY more water. I heard once that we often mistake thirst for hunger - let's try ticking that off the list before I start sprinkling rat poison over my meals. Also, I didn't have any caffeine yesterday. While that is in the long term better for me, I think not having a diuretic take some of the hunger edge off during the day might do more harm than good at this point. So the up side: coffee this morning! And water - dang it! Remember to drink more water!
Day Four's workout was spin class instead of P90X. I'm not wussing out - I just know that my body requires cardio to lose significant weight. I actually don't mind weight training that much, which was another reason I liked the idea of P90X, but I'm really trying to face the music here, so extra cardio it is. Also, spin was at noon, so I might actually get to eat dinner at a normal hour tonight instead of having to wait until after getting home, working out, and cooking (I put enchiladas in the slow cooker last night, so tonight will be minimal prep). Gonna do my best to eat less than two pounds of food tonight.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Day Three - Is it over yet?
I'm such a wuss. It's day three and I'm already over working out. My back hurts, my arms hurt, my calves are on fire ... and I really want to cook the Hamburger Helper I bought on sale last week for dinner tonight. Moderation is indeed key, so I could probably swing eating a normal human portion of crap and justify it, but the problem is I am STARVING, so I obviously want to eat a ton of anything. If I'm gonna binge, it might as well be on smoothies, yogurt and salad (with no ranch, of course).
I'm quickly seeing how money is going to be a problem here. You'd think straight up produce wouldn't be that expensive, and it isn't, but it's the proteins and stuff for interesting yet low-calorie sauces and FRUIT that are killing my budget. I would LOVE some healthy and delicious seared tuna tonight, but I can't justify spending money on any fish, let alone tuna steaks. Okay, so that's partially my fault because my picky self doesn't like fishy fish, which are cheaper. But still - the fruit is what is absolutely driving me nuts. I'm really enjoying my smoothies and I feel guilt-free about drinking them, but fresh or frozen fruit is crazy expensive! Wow - this rationalization thing is really pervasive.
The workout - DAH! Shoulders and arms?!?!?!?!? I thought the first P90X was all upper body - it sure felt that way! But no - re-checking the label, the first workout was just chest and back, and today is shoulders and arms. The bright side of this is that the following has never been more relevant:
Oh, it's a deep burn! Oh, it's so deep! I can barely lift my right arm 'cause I did so many. I don't know if you heard me counting, I did over a thousand. You have your ubulus muscle that connects to the upper dorsimus. It's boring, but it's part of my life. I'm just gonna grab this shirt, if you don't mind. Just watch out for the guns. They'll get you.
I'm quickly seeing how money is going to be a problem here. You'd think straight up produce wouldn't be that expensive, and it isn't, but it's the proteins and stuff for interesting yet low-calorie sauces and FRUIT that are killing my budget. I would LOVE some healthy and delicious seared tuna tonight, but I can't justify spending money on any fish, let alone tuna steaks. Okay, so that's partially my fault because my picky self doesn't like fishy fish, which are cheaper. But still - the fruit is what is absolutely driving me nuts. I'm really enjoying my smoothies and I feel guilt-free about drinking them, but fresh or frozen fruit is crazy expensive! Wow - this rationalization thing is really pervasive.
The workout - DAH! Shoulders and arms?!?!?!?!? I thought the first P90X was all upper body - it sure felt that way! But no - re-checking the label, the first workout was just chest and back, and today is shoulders and arms. The bright side of this is that the following has never been more relevant:
Oh, it's a deep burn! Oh, it's so deep! I can barely lift my right arm 'cause I did so many. I don't know if you heard me counting, I did over a thousand. You have your ubulus muscle that connects to the upper dorsimus. It's boring, but it's part of my life. I'm just gonna grab this shirt, if you don't mind. Just watch out for the guns. They'll get you.
Day Two - Feel the Burn
Day Two began just like I thought it would, with aches and pains. And as it began, so it continued. ALL DAY. I shake my fist wildly at you, Absplosion! (Okay, it's really called "Ab Ripper X," but obviously I'm sticking with Absplosion - way more accurate.)
On the bright side, a good food day. The morning's smoothie was experimental, but it turned out great, like a healthy Orange Julius. OJ, cantaloupe, vanilla yogurt, and orange-flavored fiber. Yummmm (No, really). On the dimmer side, my food journal has made it painstakingly clear that I am a terrible night eater. I eat three times as much after 7pm than before. I guess the gurus are right about keeping a food journal; it really does shed light on what is otherwise easy to ignore. Yes, I'm keeping a food journal. It's called "Book of Shame." Keeping it positive.
I better take some time to find a calorie-counting program this week - I have a feeling that I might be laboring under some misunderstandings about what is "healthy" and low calorie. I like to think that I've seen enough health class videos and episodes of Biggest Loser to be doing alright, but I can't help but wonder if I'll be five pounds heavier next week with no explanation other than crappy food-picking without the joy of tasting mac and cheese.
Okay - I'm returning to this draft after using a calorie counter, and holy crap, I thought I was going to come in around 1000 but NO - 1450 calories on what I thought was a SUPER good food day. No ranch dressing tomorrow, that's for sure. Yeah - 130 calories for two tablespoons.
The workout: Plyometrics, a.k.a. Jump Around Until You Need to Puke. That's all I have to say about it. It is literally an hour of jumping in various ways. I think this may call for a video post next time around. I looked ridiculous. AND - Tony obviously did not think about the womenfolk when placing the jumping around exercise the day after the chest workout. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. Ow.
Finally - weight. Day Two ended at 138. Holding fast. I'll probably just stick to weekly weighings from now on so that I can be all ecstatic and shocked (fingers crossed). Meh - we'll see.
On the bright side, a good food day. The morning's smoothie was experimental, but it turned out great, like a healthy Orange Julius. OJ, cantaloupe, vanilla yogurt, and orange-flavored fiber. Yummmm (No, really). On the dimmer side, my food journal has made it painstakingly clear that I am a terrible night eater. I eat three times as much after 7pm than before. I guess the gurus are right about keeping a food journal; it really does shed light on what is otherwise easy to ignore. Yes, I'm keeping a food journal. It's called "Book of Shame." Keeping it positive.
I better take some time to find a calorie-counting program this week - I have a feeling that I might be laboring under some misunderstandings about what is "healthy" and low calorie. I like to think that I've seen enough health class videos and episodes of Biggest Loser to be doing alright, but I can't help but wonder if I'll be five pounds heavier next week with no explanation other than crappy food-picking without the joy of tasting mac and cheese.
Okay - I'm returning to this draft after using a calorie counter, and holy crap, I thought I was going to come in around 1000 but NO - 1450 calories on what I thought was a SUPER good food day. No ranch dressing tomorrow, that's for sure. Yeah - 130 calories for two tablespoons.
The workout: Plyometrics, a.k.a. Jump Around Until You Need to Puke. That's all I have to say about it. It is literally an hour of jumping in various ways. I think this may call for a video post next time around. I looked ridiculous. AND - Tony obviously did not think about the womenfolk when placing the jumping around exercise the day after the chest workout. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. Ow.
Finally - weight. Day Two ended at 138. Holding fast. I'll probably just stick to weekly weighings from now on so that I can be all ecstatic and shocked (fingers crossed). Meh - we'll see.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Health Revival! Day One
That's right - I'm starting my own Take Better Care of Yourself revolution. It's mostly superficial bull - I feel like a fatty these days because I haven't been working out and I've failed to lose the weight I gained over the holidays. I knew the gain was inevitable, but I definitely took no reactionary steps afterward. Very lame and irresponsible of me.
Yesterday was DAY 1.
STARTING WEIGHT: Ugh. 138.
I put a sticky note up on my bathroom mirror with that number for two reasons: shaming via fact, and a friendly reminder to weigh in again at the close of the day. Why the end of the day? Because I weigh less at the beginning of the day and I don't want to cheat it. ACCOUNTABILITY!
I did the P90X Day 1 workout - chest, arms and back followed by ABSPLOSION. Oh. My. God. SOOO painful.
First, Chest Arms and Back. I never knew so many variations on the standard push-up existed. I am very proud to say that I was able to bang out at least a few of every different exercise - with the exception of the pull-ups. I didn't have a pull up bar. But I also can't do a pull up. What's to blame? The lack of a bar, of course.
Absplosion. It's got some silly name like this, and if this isn't it, it should be. There were a couple of exercises that I honestly couldn't do more than one of. I blame a combination of my insufficient core strength and my exhaustion from the upper body workout. Something I've learned from day one: I am excellent at rationalization. Failure?!?! I can explain that away no problem!
Food: Eh. I did okay, but not great. I would have considered it a successful food day if I hadn't made myself a cheddar omlette at midnight. But I was so hungry!!!
All and all, a good start. I fear for my ability to stick with it, but at least I can say I started.
Yesterday was DAY 1.
STARTING WEIGHT: Ugh. 138.
I put a sticky note up on my bathroom mirror with that number for two reasons: shaming via fact, and a friendly reminder to weigh in again at the close of the day. Why the end of the day? Because I weigh less at the beginning of the day and I don't want to cheat it. ACCOUNTABILITY!
I did the P90X Day 1 workout - chest, arms and back followed by ABSPLOSION. Oh. My. God. SOOO painful.
First, Chest Arms and Back. I never knew so many variations on the standard push-up existed. I am very proud to say that I was able to bang out at least a few of every different exercise - with the exception of the pull-ups. I didn't have a pull up bar. But I also can't do a pull up. What's to blame? The lack of a bar, of course.
Absplosion. It's got some silly name like this, and if this isn't it, it should be. There were a couple of exercises that I honestly couldn't do more than one of. I blame a combination of my insufficient core strength and my exhaustion from the upper body workout. Something I've learned from day one: I am excellent at rationalization. Failure?!?! I can explain that away no problem!
Food: Eh. I did okay, but not great. I would have considered it a successful food day if I hadn't made myself a cheddar omlette at midnight. But I was so hungry!!!
All and all, a good start. I fear for my ability to stick with it, but at least I can say I started.
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