Wow, this program sucks so far.

So I've been eager to tell all of you about a program I'm doing, but wanted to kind of wait and see what the results would be. So far, not good, but I just can't imagine not losing some significant weight on this. Unfortuantely, the program is only in Texas, but those readers in Iowa & Maryland may read along for kicks b/c chances are you have something similar in your area (well, in Maryland. Iowa gets everything like 3 years late).

So it's called My Fit Foods. The website is myfitfoods.com. Basically, if Nutrisystem & MediFast had a baby, it would look like this. The concept is "food as fuel" and the actual business is just a drop in (or delivery) purchase of fresh, healthy meals. Meals are good on glycemic index, fresh, no preservatives, no extra sodium, diabetic friendly, etc. However, they have a 21-day challenge -- here's the highlights:
1. eat 5 times a day. Only their food. Caloric intake bounces between 1050-1500/day (for me).
2. No caffeine
3. No alcohol
4. Liver cleanse every morning: it's asshole in a can. I mean it REALLY sucks, but you can chase it with water
5. one cheat meal a week, but has to be same portion size as all other meals
6. Supplements: cinnamon and milk thistle (again, cleaning out liver so it can metabolize fat).

So needless to say, it takes a lot of preparation to pick up, pack, eat, etc these meals and I think about it a lot of the day. However, that makes me really want to see results quickly. Not only am I not seeing results quickly, I'm not SEEING RESULTS AT ALL. This is day 9 and I have GAINED .2 lbs. This is in addition to me working out 5 times in 9 days (nearly all cardio so don't even try the "I'm sure it's just muscle" shit).
I will complete this diet b/c I love boundaries, but I am one cranky bear about this.  I do suspect it's water weight, but that does not change the fact it's UTTER AND COMPLETE BULLSHIT.

Ok. I'm done. Discuss amongst yourselves. I'll have something more witty to write later. SV

Discouragment

So I didn't work out this weekend much, but that's OK; I'm willing to let life get in the way sometimes. Monday morning, I diligently worked out my gym schedule for all week including two BodyPump classes and 4 days of cardio. I was optimistic, energetic and excited to see what this week would get me down to. So I go to Body Pump last night, do the squat routine and sometime pops IN MY HEAD. Now for those of you who have never blown out a nerve/artery/whatever it's very disconcerting for THINGS TO GO POP IN YOUR HEAD. I had to leave the class. I was on the front row. There are SIX TRIPS to put away your stuff. F-ing humiliating. And very very discouraging b/c I really dig that class and was already there. And also? Had the world's biggest headache and was scared I was going to stroke out at any moment.

So I talk to my doctor (also known as my father in law) and he has enough sense of urgency to order an MRI b/c even I know popping IN YOUR HEAD is not generally good. Maybe not a big deal, possibly a very huge deal. Huge like the bill I'm going to get for this procedure. So yes, I'm a little worried, but mostly I'm discouraged b/c meanwhile I'm hauling around a 10 year old of extra weight and I feel helpless to do anything about it. Except not eat the three boxes of girl scout cookies I bought from Melmo's daughter. I told Husband to take them to work. Au revoir cookies.

Speaking of Husband, he cooked this terrific meal last night (while also putting C to bed as I laid on the couch in a pity party). Except it was ginger-habanero chicken. Emphasis on the HABANERO. You know what makes you only eat half your dinner? Setting your mouth on fire. That's a great diet tip as long as you don't mind pooping fire too.

So anyway, I'm at 213.0. I wanted to be at 210 by the end of the week, but if I'm not, I'll settle for not having a brain tumor. Or a stroke.

Thank you all for reading. I have 7 followers. Hooray!

I am a Warrior.

I went to Body Pump again last night. I sure did. I faced my demon and lo, my fear was great. But I totally did better AND am not sore today. I put MORE weight on my chest (because if my chest is responsible for hauling around my huge boobs, surely it's stronge enough to benchpress 12 pounds for 3 minutes).  I could walk without assistance coming out of class and even managed to drag myself up the stairs into bed last night. Hooray! I love celebrating these little victories. Weigh in on Friday. Hubby forced me to eat wings with him two night ago so I'm trying to work that off prior to stepping on the scale.

Carter had tubes in his ears yesterday and went to his first dentist appointment this morning. If my two year old can survive that, I can certainly make it through step class today, right???? This one's for you Carter.

We meet again, blog

It's been awhile, blog. I have not missed you. I have not really even thought about you while I poured gallons of wine and queso down my throat. I ignored the requests of my readers for more posts, even as additional readers have been brought on to read previous postings (in an effort to get "caught up" to what was apparently going to be a regularly-written blog).

Well, we're even. because I'm fat again. Perhaps the real reason I have neglected you dear blog is because I DID NOT want to get back on here and admit that I'm heavier than I was when I started you in the first place. That all the success we shared: the laughter, the tears, the frustration with Little Bit always begging to be in the blog --- all of it is a distant memory. BUT NO MORE. Here I am, hanging my head in shame and putting my fat rolls out for all to see in an effort to reinvigorate my attempts at a healthier lifestyle.

This move back to Texas was so full of uncertainty and disruption, my routine just fell apart. For those of you who know me (and you all do since I'm sharing my weight and possibly pictures of my jiggly bits), you know I really thrive with a routine; preferably one I can color-code in an Excel document. And I also do better if I'm held accountable by people like I Heart Gordmans who will selflessly eat the candy I was planning to eat, Little Bit-who will forcibly use her 110 lb frame to push my fat butt to the gym and my brother, who will just make fun of me until I'm thin again. I hope to grant more names in this blog over the next few months as my new readers follow this journey with me.

Now, if you've read this so far, you must be patient, so I will reward you with the first "real post" of my new life. It's called "Why Body Pump should catch gonnorrhea and die".

Body Pump is this "class" for crazy masochists who like to torture themselves with weights at the direction of very gay men happily screaming at you for an hour. There are 10 songs and each one works a different muscle group for the entire song. All songs are required to be Stairway to Heaven-ish length of no less than 8 minutes long. A fully grown, fit man passed out in the class last night. Yes he did. I expect "melmo" and "I don't have enough weight to lose to win a contest" to comment on this as soon as I have sent this link because they are also crazy masochists (and I convinced them to the class). I might have cried a little bit in the class; I'm not sure. It was an hour of pretending to be on the Biggest Loser except instead of knowing people would watch you on TV, getting the real deal as everyone in the gym AND the outside parking lot gawked at our stupidity and weakness through the WRAP AROUND WINDOWS so generously provided in this room. I will be MORE sore tomorrow, which is making me even crankier today b/c I literally am walking like I don't have control of my legs and am unable to do much in terms of picking up Carter or caring for his basic needs. I left him tied to a tree with a bowl of water this morning b/c I couldnt' pick him up and put him in his car seat. Don't go getting all worried b/c the neighbor promised to check in on him several times today and the sun is supposed to come out later.

Whatever. I'll be there Saturday. Because I'm still wearing my maternity jeans. Yeah, that's right, I said it. So if you're in the Austin area and you're a crazy nutbag, come on up north and let's get pummeled together! Hooray!

And if you've made it this far, you deserve to know my "starting weight".



216.6. Suck on it.