The End of the Road; The Beginning of the Road

My last 25 or so years in the health and well being department can be summed up in one word: excuses.  Which is not so hard to believe for anyone who has seen me in the last, oh, 25 or so years.

All excuses came to a shockingly abrupt yet pathetically predictable halt 11 weeks ago when I slipped 2 discs doing nothing.   Despite various folks attemps to convince me that this shit just happens, not one cell in my immense body buys it.  At 35, my body should NOT break doing normal tasks...like, oh, bending down.

Some would call this moment rock bottom; as bad as it gets. 

To me, this is definitively the end of the road.  The dreaded end of the road of my weight not impacting my overall health and happiness. The end of the road of putting off taking charge.  The end of the road of not holding myself accountable.  The end of the road of ignoring the fact that I am decidedly heavier than when I made the high stakes decision to return to Houston to get my weight in check. The end of the road of "I can start getting healthy any time I want, no rush," "a new great restaurant that I MUST try," "a friend coming into town who I MUST take to the best spots," "drinks that I CANNOT skip out on," "I've had a hard week.  I DESERVE this margarita." The end of the road of excuses.

This is also the beginning of the road.  A road that seems 25 years familiar--one that I have begun to travel down hundreds of times.  A road that is maddeningly long, and bumpy,  and frustrating, and frought with countless, tempting detours.  One that often seems it is all tunnel and no light.  That I am embarrassed and deflated to be on..and that I should have been on much, much sooner.  A road that I have never been to the end of--not even close.

6 weeks down this new road I am 18 pounds lighter.  Which amounts to essentially a foot past the starting line.  I am grumpy, and weary, and frustruated, and impatient.  But I don't have the option to be any of those things for longer than a split second. 

Because the only option is the other road.  And going one inch further down that road is definitively, finally not an option.

Don't Look Now

It's never a good sign when you have to hit the back button like 210 times to find the last day that you tracked your food on Weight Watchers.

The fact is, today is April 24, 2013 and the last time I tracked was September 20, 2012.

And in between then and now, I seem to recall giving myself a deadline to start again no fewer than 10 times.  But the scale, if  I had the courage to get on it, I'm sure would tell me that I failed to get back to the plan every single one of those times.

So, here I am.  Nearly 2.5 years into my high stakes quest to regain health.  And likely heavier than when I started the whole thing.  And I'm not counting the whole picking up a husband thing in my calculation.

On paper, it no doubt seems like a total bust. 

But numbers aren't everything (says the girl who, in her professional life, lives and dies by the sales numbers).

I have managed to learn a thing or two in my trek from giant, to notably less-giant, to giant-er. 

The most meaningful of which is that I know that I HAVE the ability to get to where I want to be.  Encouraging for sure...but has also proved to be my Achilles heal.  A rationalization for making an exception 210 days in a row--"I can ALWAYS get back to it when I NEED to.  You know, once I am back from this trip...before the wedding....after the wedding...once the show season has ended, etc."

Today I have done something that, for a variety of reasons, I have been unsuccessful at doing for the last 210 or so days.  And it feels good.  Not an "I can concur the world" good, but more of a "at least today I did instead of just bitched."

Perhaps tomorrow I will put some serious thought into actually using that gym membership I continue to pay for.

Holy Shit....They Fit!!!

Today I woke up and made the decision before I could talk myself out of it.

I was gonna try on my wedding dresses (yes, two) for the first time in 4 months or so.

My dress fittings are in 22 days (but who's counting)--and I reluctantly had accepted the sad but true "reality" that on fitting day I needed to be ready with a plan b.  A solution to both frocks being no less than 5 inches short of closing last time I tested it out.  Perhaps a tent-esque white coverup?  sewing the dresses together? wearing a strategically placed and very large sombrero?

Deciding to get not 1, but 2, dresses 4 sizes too small..not my smartest moment.  If I were not me, I'd point and laugh at me.  Who DOES that?!?!?

I woke up 1,000,000% certain that it was doomsday.   There was less than zero chance that this was going to go anything other than tragically.

But somehow...a Christmas miracle happened for this Jew.

Those bitches zipped! BOTH of them!  Right on up!

I almost cried.

Now...I have pleeeenty of work to do still.  There's a biiiiig difference between a dress zipping and not being torture to wear all night.

But now I can spend my time on looking better in the dresses.... instead of on a wild goose chase for a cape to compliment my dress.

The Point

A good friend of mine lost her father today.   Heartbreakingly, this is the most recent in what seems to be an overwhelmingly large number of losses that people I care about have suffered over the last little while.

And as I was shaking off the shock of the tragic news, I glared at my glass of green smoothie and said aloud "what's the fucking point?!?"

Some would say that the point is that living a clean, active life will give you the best chance at being around the people you love for longest time possible.  That food is merely fuel.

Others may argue that the point is getting the most out of life by indulging in all that it has to offer; deprivation diminishes the experience.

Truth is, I'd be one pissed off ghost if my last meal involved kale.

But would I be more irate if I came to learn that I ended my adventure on this earth prematurely because I couldn't manage to skip the delectable tapas paired with a dirty Grey Goose martini with two olives?

Definitely don't have the answer on this one.

Tonight, the point for me is to count the many blessings I seem to so easily forget at times and to hug those who are close, even tighter.

Trifecta

Nope...didn't win a trifecta in Vegas..

But DID manage to score 3 postcards from my Weight Watchers meeting leader asking where I've been and mentioning that she'd "missed my comments in class."  Yeah, that last part is clearly a stretch....but unfortunately, my absence is a true story.

Why I have put myself in this position, I will never know.

Dropping 64 lbs in 11 months..and putting most of it back on in 7 months fucking sucks.  But really, how did I expect that it would feel?!?

Buying a wedding dress 4 sizes too small?  Not my shining moment.

And boxing myself into a corner by waiting until the very last second to get back on track.  Clear brilliance.

I am smarter than this.  I mean, generally I am.

And it's gonna take every ounce of will power and determination to get myself out of this mess of my own making.

Because I have 2.5 months until I have to get sewn into the dress....and 4.5 months until I have to wear it in public (and in pictures that I will have for a lifetime).

Let the good times roll.

Shanah Tovah

Last year, it took what seemed like eons to teach my fiance the proper greeting for the first of the Jewish holidays.

My beloved proved to be a much quicker study than yours truly.

The days leading up to the end of one year and the beginning of a new one have reminded me of a reality that I have been slow to learn:

One cannot control some circumstances, but one can always control one's reaction to them.

I cannot control whether yet another cancer spot shows up on my innocent, tough, little pug.  And I cannot control whether friends (even "life-long" ones) and family hold up their end of the bargain.

But, I can control whether I reach for a glass (let's be honest, a bottle) of vino and scrounge up whatever forbidden foods have had the gaul to remain in this house.

As I sit awake at 4am and ignore the calls of the cake in my freezer, I have managed to hone in on my (not-so-poetic) hope for the New Year:

May the New Year bring us all the grace to react in ways that are reflective of our best self.

Shanah Tovah!

Irony..or Whatever

I find it darkly amusing that the catalyst for my being less than on track the last few weeks has been other people's nuptials.

Apparently I have a tough time passing up even a second, morsel, or drop of the festivities.

How much damage could be done in a couple of Saturdays, right?  There's only so much wedding cake a person can eat...so many trips to the bar a person can make.

Yeah, think again.

There is no such thing as a wedding day...it's a wedding weekend.  Sometimes 4 days long.  And all of your friends and/ or family are in town.  And you HAVE to show them around properly, right?!? What kind of friend would I be if I shirked my margarita y queso duties?!?!

The cakes (um, wedding AND groom's) and the open bar are the least of the evils.

So, it's a bit shocking that I managed to drop 3 lbs over the course of two wedding weekends.  Butttt.....the previous week I gained 3.  Sooooo......the last 3 weeks have been pretty much a wash--though I was "supposed to" rid myself of 9 big ones in that time.

I have like 2.5 months to drop 40 lbs to stay on track with my fantasy of beating my low by the end of November.  And 4 months until d-day for squeezing into the white dress.

According to one of my docs, it's only healthy to lose like ONE pound a week.  I'm no math wiz, but that's clearly not gonna work.

That "Freeze the Fat" billboard on 59 is becoming more effective by the minute.

Doom...Doom...Doom

That's what rang in my head as I slinked into Weight Watchers this morning.

And doom is right.  3 pounds of doom.  Big ones.

My reaction to the less than auspicious results surprised me.

Instead of being irate, outraged, fired up...I was just plain bummed out, disheartened, deflated.

Last week I enjoyed a semblance of a "normal" life.

I stayed within my points 5 days, but went out with friends in from out of town...twice.  I didn't have a grilled chicken salad, no dressing on either occasion.  And my beverage(s) of choice packed a bit more of a punch than my usual water with lemon.

I worked hard at the gym 4 times...but not twice a day x 6 days.  And I downed 8-10 glasses of water per day instead of 16.

And so I was punished.  For hanging out instead of being at the gym....for going out instead of sitting alone forcing down a turkey sandwich on a single piece of wheat bread....for eating instead of pretending BBQ doesn't look good to me anyway....for drinking instead of watching.

"They" say it's all about moderation.  But this week it seems it's all about deprivation.

Am I feeling sorry for myself?  Absolutely.

Less so about the ground I lost...and more-so as I look into a week of more time at the gym, making excuses about why I can't go to lunch/ dinner with friends,  and convincing myself that I don't miss a dirty grey goose martini, two olives.

Yippee.

BEST. MOM. EVER.

I was pretty stoked--my fabu mom worked some magic and hooked me up with a trainer.

Totally, utterly, and completely necessary.

But now, after 2 sessions in as many days, I can't move.   Like, I can't turn the wheel of my car.  Like, I whimper when I breathe.  Like, I'm considering learning how to pee like a dude.

But it's a good pain.  If there is such a thing.

And it's just in time...b/c though I managed to drop 2.4 lbs last week..I have to have a 7lb week to stay on track for August.

Bring on the squats!  Don't mind my screams of agony.

Ode to Boiled Shrimp

Oh boiled shrimp, why are you so boring?
Fried shrimp scoff at you.
Hush puppies won't hang out in the same basket.
Your only friend, cocktail sauce.
Maybe it's because you taste so very blah.
And look so very meh.

Why must you torment me with your health benefits?
Your high protein to carb ratio.....
Your uncannily low point value.....

You are the best and worst option, in one slimy bite.

Seriously?!? SER-I-OUS-LY?!?

I am sooooo frustrated that it is unlikely I will successfully muster witty repartee.

I busted my ass last week.

Ate 2 bites at a cooking-themed bachelorette party.  Ate nothing at a chocolate-themed shower.  Passed up rivers of vino.  Turned my nose up a mountain of oreos and 2 tortes that somehow made their way into our pantry.  Downed more green smoothie than I care to remember.  And hit the elliptical 5 days.

And what's the payoff?!?  Nada.  Zero.  Zilch.  Not an ounce lighter.

Now, my beloved, on the other hand.  He must have connections with the gods that turn oreos into kale.  Somehow 88 oreos in 4 days + not one minute of exertion outside of waddling to the pantry= down 3 lbs.

How is this even possible?!?!?!?!?!?

Aryn v. Chocolate Cake

The short version: Chocolate cake wins by a landslide

The long version:

Round 1: Ladies Who Lunch
-Have been trying supa dupa hard not to eat out as of late.  But the opportunity to see a great friend in from out of town on Friday was a solid reason to make an exception.
-I enjoyed a tall glass o' water in lieu of an oh so tempting burger.
-Point: Aryn

Round 2: Bachelorette Extravaganza
-Friday night it was partay time in honor of the impending nuptials of an equally great friend.  Trouble is, the activity of choice was a private cooking class hosted by one of Houston's primo chefs. Oh so tempting.
-I passed up the free-flowing vino during the cooking portion and splurged on a cocktail at the bar afterwards.  Tasted one bite of every dish--and then shut my mouth.
-Point: Aryn

Round 3: Shower Time
-The Chocolate Bar was the venue for Saturday afternoon.  And the temptation of choice: chocolate of course--and looooots of it!
-Had one slice of choco-covered banana.  Took my portion of the ice cream, giant cake, and make your own chocobar home to the fiance (who, by that time, was no doubt in oreo withdrawal).
-Point: Aryn

Round 4: Nothing Good Happens After 2am
-Had awesome mental strength...until the wee hours.  The choco cake called my name with ever-increasing intensity...and then I ate it.  More than smidge.
-Point (16 of the suckers...according to the ultimate arbiter--Weight Watchers): Chocolate Cake

Damn you chocolate cake!

The 6,205 Oreos of Inspiration

The love of my life has downed (68) oreos (2/3 of them double stuffed) since Monday.  And if he continues at this pace, he will pound 6,205 oreos annually.  Truly impressive.
During this oreo marathon, my love has come up with some gems:
-"They were a gift.  It would be rude to give them away."
-"It's not like I'm killing puppies.  I like oreos.  Is that a crime?"
-"It's not my fault.  I didn't buy them."
-"They are only 2 points."
-"That's what weekly points are for."

Which gets me to thinkin about excuses in general...and more specifically, the equally "logical" assertions that I have no doubt spouted upon (more than one) occasion since this journey began.
Truth is, there is little justification for the years I spent eating and drinking away my health...though I certainly was very successful at convincing myself of the validity of a multitude of excuses.   And, my choices, in aggregate, are no doubt even more ridiculous than ingesting one's bodyweight in creme filled cookies.  If that's possible.

An important realization...or so 12 step programs say.

So maybe the result of Oreo Fest 2012 will be more than cookie crumbs on my kitchen floor.


 

July Mission: Accomplished

I'd really love to end this year where I ended last year.  At face value, making zero progress in the span of a year is hardly a lofty goal.  Especially for someone who uprooted her entire existence in the name of progress.

But, reality is reality.

I wrapped up 2011 down 64 lbs...and found myself 50 lbs heavier than that low by mid-2012.

It is what it is.

And though I started my greatest life challenge thus far going for the gold, I will be elated with the bronze.

When it comes down to it, that means dropping an average of 11 lbs a month through November.

July goes in the win column--a 10.8 lb win.

So I start my August 2012 quest--with my head hanging slightly and my closet hanging fully with clothes that should fit but don't.

In the words of one of my mentors....ONWARD.

Mind Game

My slightly delusional fiance looks at me this morning and says, "Babe, you're lookin' thinner." 

How a man who doesn't notice a 6 inch haircut hones in on weekly weight fluctuations, I'll never know. 

But I rolled with it.  All the way to the scale.  

Unfortunately, the scale had a slightly different verdict: down 1.2 lbs last week...7lbs in the first two weeks back...15.6 lbs total.

Honestly, that was a helluva lotta work to get rid of a few ounces.

Could someone please tell my body that it is supposed to be at its lightest every Thursday at 8:45am. Not Thursday, 5am.  Not Friday, 5pm.  Thursday, 8:45am. That I freakin drank 28 glasses of water over the last 48 hours to ensure I wouldn't be carrying an extra oz. of water weight.  That my Starbucks (grande, skinny, carmel latte) is getting cold sitting on the chair at the WW meeting b/c heaven forbid I ingest anything before getting weighed.  That I get as close as possible to naked without (severely) offending people before setting foot on the scale.

None of this is rational.  But it's reality.  I mean, in the sense that it is really what I do.  And in the moment, it doesn't feel that wacky.

I guess it isn't that much less sane than being pleased as punch at having my name announced in front of the "class" and being given a "5 lb loss" or "bravo" sticker.  Or adults encouraging each other to eat their vegetables.  And it's definitely more balanced than my mom's assertion that "seasoned green beans taste better than french fries."

On Thursdays at 8:45am I am reminded that this whole weight loss thing is predominately a mind game.  That if I just do whatever all of these dumb little things are that I apparently "need" to do to stay in the zone, the results will come.

However....if I ever utter the phrase "these green beans taste better than french fries"....please take pity on me and have me committed. 

It's Been a Really Really Messed Up Week

Yes, I am 33 years of age and I just quoted Hot Chelle Rae.

It HAS been a wacky couple of weeks--really, the whole month thus far has proven to be a bit of a challange.  Personally.  Professionally.  You name it.

And when balls are dropping, I'm generally accustomed to catching them in a glass of wine or on a plate of (insert delectable, rich ethnic food here).

But not this time.  This time I managed to stay the course.  Keep my ass in gear.  And in a week I dropped 5.6 lbs. 

Unfortuately, it's missing a zero.  Dropping 50.6 lbs--now THAT would have been a week worth blogging about.

In all seriousness, I actually kinda surprised myself by keeping it together.  Perhaps I pulled motivation from the fact that I tried on my blatantly too small wedding dress and it's like 4 inches short of closing.  Or from being able to lay off Prilosec b/c I'm not eating crap.  Or from a dear friend who decided to get off the couch a mere few months ago and is now not able to make it to my Vegas bachelorette soiree b/c she is running in her first half marathon.  Or maybe due to my fiance shouting after me as I was lapping him while doing my first day of Couch Potato to 5K Runner, "How are you so fit for being so fat."  Or realizing the money that we are saving by eating out much less (like only once in the last seven days) is better used for things like dog cancer surgery.

Whatever it is, I plan to continue to harness it.

Lessons from a Pug

My brain had come up with excuses for not working out this morning even before I saw daylight.

When I managed to pry my eyelids open and heave myself up from my floor resting spot next to the patient, I saw a pug--who, having had major cancer surgery 12 hours earlier on top of an eye ulcer that has kept her in the cone of shame for almost a month, was wagging her Frankenstein-esque tail at me and trying to get around the cone to lick my face.

My tough little pug--with 5 inches of stitches in her 3 inch tail (you can probably fill in the blank on the unfortunate spot that the stitches originate)-- woke up more ready for the day's challenges than I did.

I have been put to shame by a 15.4 lb, squished faced, bow-legged, battle-scared dog.

Needless to say, I made it to the gym. 

Independence Day

This week we celebrate our fine country's independence.

Fittingly, my fight for personal freedom is in full swing......

*Freedom from frantically searching my closet for the one pair of pants that manages to fit this rotund rear
*Freedom from avoiding the middle seat on an airplane at all costs
*Freedom from being a pretty fat girl..instead of a pretty girl
*Freedom from shying away from physically demanding activities while traveling
*Freedom from the fat store
*Freedom from allowing my picture to be taken only from the neck up
*Freedom from hoping I make it past 50
*Freedom from only being able to go on walks/runs with other fat people
*Freedom from wearing shorts in the pool

Let freedom ring!

Let's Do This!!

When I woke up this morning, Shaun turned to me and said "You look slimmer, baby!"

If only.

Day 1 back at the gym (yesterday) was truly sub-awful.  Last time I fought the elliptical, I ended up making it 6+ miles at high-ish intensity.  Yesterday was 20 min at low intensity and done--a mile and a half a best. 

Reality check. 

So today I had a more modest goal--and was able to swing 30 minutes at my thinner-Aryn intensity....2.5 or so miles. 

I'll take it.  Until tomorrow.  When I'm gonna shoot for 31 minutes...or maybe even 32 minutes, if I'm feelin frisky.

Oh the suspense.....

The BITCH is BACK

Life is pretty wacky.

So, it's been 19 months since I began this quest.

And in the last 19 months, I have:
-Moved from San Francisco to surburban Houston.  Intended to stay a year.  I'm still here.
-Lost 64 lbs.  Should have been 190 lbs (goal was 10 lbs/ month).
-Gained 55 lbs back. I'm currently a mere 181 lbs off target.
-Planned to take a year off from the rat race....ended up working in some form for the entire time
-Met a guy->moved in with said guy->got engaged
-Bought a wedding dress that just may be 4 sizes to small at this very moment
-Started a blog
-Restarted a blog after completely ignoring it for most of 6 months
-Started Weight Watchers
-Restarted Weight Watchers after a 7 month hiatus
-Explored Morocco, Trinidad and Tobago, and a bunch of less exciting spots in between
-Lived in the same city as my Grammy for the first time in my life
-Learned a lot about what I want to be when I grow up
-Joined Facebook
-Became a homeowner
-Un-abandoned my cute little pug
-Gained Focus.  Lost Focus.  GAINED FOCUS.

May not be able to control life....but I surely do have command over what goes in this mouth and how much time this ass spends idle.

So here we go for round 2.....

In the Trenches

Well, I'm back in the trenches...and at square one.  AGAIN.  I guess I should say square one-ish.  
Though I am (THANK THE LORD) not currently of the robust proportions that I was when I started this plan initially.....it's day #2.  AGAIN.  For the millionth time in a few weeks.

My mini-goal is to not have a cheat meal until my (our) engagement party at the end of the month.  At which time, I plan to gorge on sweets and bubbles. 

My other mini-goal is to pass up all of the fried things on sticks and booze at the Rodeo tomorrow.

My other-other mini goal is to avoid green beer on the bestest day to drink beer.

I suppose my actual mini-goal should be to get this expanding ass off of the couch and into the gym--or maybe just onto the treadmill that sits roughly 3 inches from the couch.

I feel like 4 goals just may be a bit too much for my "first" 2 days back.

I think I'll pick 3...the big question is, which 3 will make the cut......

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good:-I am back to writing this blog, which just may indicate my quest towards general fitness, health, and well-being has resumed. 
-I am still down a significant amount from where I began.
-I remembered my Weight Watchers log in when I tried it for the first time today in many, many moons.
-I genuinely enjoyed all of the embibing I have partaken in, since, oh, late November or so.
-The Valentine's Day candy is gone.
-I went out with a dim sum, g&t, queso, cupcake filled bang.

The Bad:
-My "skinny jeans" can no longer accomodate my not-so-skinny ass.
-I should be down like 150 lbs by down.  Yeah, definitely not.
-People have stopped saying to me "Aryn, you are looking SOOOO GREAT!" Hmmm...wonder if that means something......
-I'm not sure I remember the way to the gym.
-The Valentine' Day candy did not get thrown out or otherwise magically disappear.

The Ugly:
Refer to the above

Over Achiever

Well, it's official.  I am an over achiever.

Apparently, the average cruise traveler gains 5 lbs a week while on the high seas.  In a not so shocking turn of events, I managed to best that..by 100%.  That's right--10 lbs in 7 days.  Do I get a gold star or something?

Clearly time to get back to real life.

And by real life, I DO NOT mean the "wedding diet."  If I am asked if I am on a "wedding diet" one more time, I will, I dunno...do something that represents how annoyed I am.

Changing my lifestyle habits to squeeze into a white dress for 4 hours that will only look good on a size 4 anyway, seems futile, stupid, and maddening.

Resuming my lifestyle change so that I get to live a long, full life with my soonish-to-be-husband seems to make much more sense.  A better motivator.

That yard long frozen drink thing that somehow appeared in my hand a couple of times over sure was tasty, though......

Oh What a Year It Has Been--and I Mean It This Time!!!

An amendment to my last post is in order....

The biggest news of the year is that I have acquired a fiance.  That's right kids--workaholic, travelaholic, drinkaholic (not to be confused with alcoholic), eataholic Aryn has somehow snagged an amazing guy AND a ring.

I've also gained a few of the 64lbs back--BUT--as of yesterday I'm working on that.

More on the losing weight front in the coming days...I promise!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Oh What a Year it Has Been!

Well, it's been a year since I officially began this journey.

Holy moly has it gone by fast!!!  No joke.

The good news is:
-I've lost 64 lbs.
-I'm more fit than I have ever been as an adult.
-I am wearing clothes I haven't fit into in years.
-I managed to meet the love of my life. And he happened to come with a slammin house!
-I am fortunate to have spent more time with my parents.
-I am lucky to have a stronger support system than I ever could have imagined.
-I feel rejuvenated and ready for my next career adventure.
-My ass is actually starting to look roundish and my face is beginning to look less so.

The other news is:
Eh, I'll save it for another day.  Today I bask in the glow of a year well spent!

FUCK YES!

I mean, happy Thanksgiving everyone.

I also mean, FUCK YES.

As it pertains to my TWELVE POUND weight loss last week.

Yup, I am now the thinnest I have been as an adult.

Well, until 5pm this evening...when I commence eating everything in site.

Gobble gobble!

Wacky Week

The last few weeks have been like I am living in bizarro world.

The sitch:
*I have worked out TWICE A DAY the last 20 out of 21 days.
*I have not exceeded my food points allowance any day in the last 3 weeks--well, except for my birthday.  On my day, I had a giant piece of cake and some yum-o pancakes.  Totally worth it.
*Last week I gained 7 pounds.  Yes, GAINED.  Despite all of the above.  And then I had a nervous breakdown.  Nearly.
*My badass boyfriend, magnificent mom, dynamo dad, awesome Auntie M, and tremendous trainer all talked me down from the ledge.  I was being a total pain in the ass, whoa is me whiner.
*My trainer saved the day.  He suggested that I drink more water (like twice as much), limit my sodium intake, eat all of my food points, and keep working out intensely.
*Fast-forward two days and like 200 pees.  I lost the 7 pounds I had found...plus three more.  That's 10 pounds of water I had apparently been carrying around.  Totally crazy.

Tomorrow I get weighed in for real.  Then we will really know.

Tomorrow is also the anniversary of my move to Houston.

Now if I can just lose 50 or so pounds by then, I'd be really set!

Awesome Mental Strength

My boyfriend often reminds me of our collective awesome mental strength (generally just before I put a tortilla chip in my mouth).

Well, I am pretty close to giddy to report that today I exhibited super-human mental strength (well, by Aryn standards).

This is the 11th consecutive day of working out.  And on this 11th consecutive day, I grumbled out of bed at 6:30am (waaaay too early on a Saturday) and allowed my car to magically steer me to the gym.

Drum roll please.

Somehow, I managed to huff and puff my way through SIXTY-EIGHT MINUTES/ SIX+ MILES of elliptical torture.

I have never intentionally participated in such extreme physical activity in my life (yes, I have been on more strenuous hikes, I just have been tricked into them).

And apparently it was pretty much my limit.  When I got home, my boyfriend quipped "WOW babe, you look BEAT!"

Lemme tell ya, there is zero chance I look half as beat as I feel!

GOOOOOD Day!

This one goes out to my Auntie M...whose nagging no doubt contributed to my day yesterday.....

Yesterday was GOOOD.

Like, 3 trips to the gym and 2 visits to Weight Watchers, good.

Like, an hour on the elliptical and an hour with the trainer, good.

Like, within 2 lbs of my lowest weight, good.

Like, 12 points under my food limit, good.

Like, 200% higher than my usual daily activity point total, good.

Like, this morning I weighed 2.5 lbs less than yesterday morning, good.

Soooo soooo GOOOOOD!

Power Hour

When I was in college (more than a few years ago), "power hour" referred to a rather intense drinking game. One that I was pretty darn good at, if I doooooo say so myself.  FUN.

In these last few days of my 32nd year, "power hour" has taken on a new meaning--the 67 minutes (YES ONE HOUR PLUS SEVEN MINUTES) that I spent on the elliptical this morning.  LESS FUN.  But, more fulfilling. 6 miles fulfilling. 700+ calories fulfilling.

Tomorrow is the big weigh in day.  So, we'll see how effective my last 7 days of being back on the wagon have been.

I miss booze.  And I miss chocolate.  And I miss Mexican food.

Hopefully I will have shed a few pounds that I WILL NOT miss.

God help me I will make it past the 61 lb loss barrier.  One power hour at a time.