The Thing About Weekends

The thing about weekends is that they can undo your entire week.  Blow it to smithereens--like your 5 days of do-gooding never existed in the first place.

At least, that's what  I hear.

I'd imagine that it could happen if you, for example, make a hasty decision that Houston Resto Month is absolutely positively not to be missed.  Twice.

Or maybe if you were to host a last minute grilling (and drinking) Sunday bash.  A soiree that includes cupcakes--double oreo and cream cupcakes.

Or perhaps if you were to eat an entire slice of red velvet cake for Sunday breakfast under the guise of having made it to the gym 6 days this week.

I feel for the person who had that kind of weekend.....

Utter Frustration

I was so perturbed after my run in with the Weight Watchers scale on Monday that I couldn't bring myself to write yesterday.

All of last week's effort resulted in a whopping .6 (point six) pound loss.  Uber lame.  No idea why.

Rather coincidentally, the meeting topic was what to do when you feel like you're stuck.

Yup, that's me.  A 3 pound loss in 4 weeks=S-T-U-C-K.

So, here's the plan to get outta my rut:
-Eat all daily points; leave weekly and activity untouched
-Limit my fruit/ veggies to the recommended 7 servings per day (as opposed to constant gorging on fruit)
-Drink 8 glasses of water per day
-Work out a minimum of 8 times per week (I'm really going for 2 times per day x 6 days, but will settle for 8 times total)

2 days into my new strategy, things seem to be going well.  I've done all of the above successfully since the beginning of the week.  It's a total pain in the ass.

GOD HELP ME THIS WORKS.

Pat on the Back

I am gonna go ahead and give myself a giant pat on the back.

This weekend was a toughy.  Boyfriend's family was in town all weekend.  And the primary activity is generally very gastronomically focused.

I could bore you with a sob story detailing each and every heart wrenching eating decision I had to make. How I went to a baseball game and only had three sips of a diet soda.  That the house smelled like bacon all weekend; bacon that never touched these lips.  But I'll give ya the cliff's notes version: aryn= success (this week, anyway).  I ended the week with 31 (of 49) weekly points leftover and earned an additional 28 activity points that I didn't touch.  Yahoo!

God help me this will pay off at tomorrow's weigh in.  Pretty freakin please.

Grrrrrrr......

I am frustrated with myself.

The long and the short is that I clearly am a much better planner in my professional life than I am in my personal life.

The long and the long is that I put myself in a pickle.  I had planned allllll day to have one of my fave diet friendly eating out meals this evening--turkey burger with avocado and black beans.  However, by the time I got to dinner I had eaten my way into a WW point corner.  I had only enough daily points for the burger.  No avocado.  I had to miss out on the BEST part.  And am bummed.

I am fully aware that this is a pretty silly conundrum.  Gotsta take pleasure in the small things, ja know!

Oh, and I lost 1.2 pounds last week.  Not huge, but not so bad considering my weekend performance.

Oh What a Night (Weekend)

Last weekend was the most amazing weekend of my life.  And I'm not particularly exaggerating.  No, really.  Just an uber special weekend.

Last weekend was also an eating failure--both boyfriend and I ate and ate.  Not so good.

We have great excuses--we were at a wedding that boyfriend was a groomsman in so we didn't choose the food.  We had to have a piece of wedding cake--after all, it is tradition.  We were on vacation!
Etc., etc.

Truth is, I am utterly responsible for how I ate.  The frustrating part is, I'm pretty sure I undid the 4 days that I busted my ass last week to move the needle.

Truth also is, that I wouldn't give up last weekend for anything.  

Ass Kicking

In the last 24 hours the following have kicked my ass:

-Weight Watchers: The sad, pathetic, depressing bottom line from last week is a POINT TWO pound loss. Yup, you read it right.  Worked out 6 times, stayed under my weekly points, didn't booze it even once....big sigh.

-Kickboxing: Definitely kicked my ass, but I most certainly kicked back.  If ya haven't tried it, you absolutely should!

-My shins: It's not a great sign to wake up in the middle of the night with screaming shins.

-Zumba: In case there was ever a question as to whether I have rhythm, there has been a definitive answer--I possess no rhythm whatsoever.  Zero. Zilch.  Nada.

-My boyfriend's WW effort: My boyfriend joined Weight Watchers in show of solidarity.  What a swell guy!  In the last 4 days, he's down 4 pounds.  Mind you, this is while eating pie, Wendy's, and ice cream to ensure he uses all his points.  Good for him.

One Step Forward

Well, it's almost my weekly D-day....Monday...Weight Watchers day.

And I have reason to be hopeful that this week's results will leave last week in the dust:
-I worked out 6 out of 7 days.  Haven't done that in at least 3 months.  And I feel it in every muscle fiber.
-I came in under my weekly points and managed to rack up 28 activity points-- the latter remained untouched.  Better than last week, but not perfect.  Need to stay away from those weekly points.  I remember it being easier to do.  I dunno.
-A drop of booze did not touch my lips.  Boring, I know. But good.
-Managed to drop my trips to the scale down from 6 or so times a day to every other day-ish.

So, manana we shall see.

Four for Four

Outside of the whole point 6 pound weight loss issue, this week started in grand fashion.

I am 4 for 4 in workout sessions--it's Thursday, and I've gone to the gym (and worked out) every day.  Haven't done that in what feels like eons--and is really three months.

In the vein of patting myself on the back, I went to Mexican yesterday (boo) and came out unscathed (yay).  I counted and recorded each and every chip that went into my mouth.  And had just chicken fajita meat and pico--no tortillas, no sour cream, no rice and beans.  BUENO!

Going into the weekend, I have the vast majority of my weekly points at my disposal and have earned a pretty healthy number of activity points.  We will see if I can manage to not blow my week, a la last weekend.

I'd better make it, as I have a fair amount of ground to make up.  I'm currently sitting at a 54 lb loss--"should be" closer to 80 by now.

Onward.

ARGH

Lost .6..yes point 6 lbs last week.  The equivalent of a big shit.

Sucks.

I felt sufficiently deprived all week, so I truly expected better results.

The reality of the week is a bit different.

Truth is:

-I exceeded my daily point allotment 4 of 7 days.  Not awesome.
-I ended the week 72 points over where I shoulda been.  That's almost two days worth of points.
-I worked out once.  Yup, I said it.
-At the beginning of the week I vowed to stave off the booze.  Yeah, well...I had no fewer than 9 drinks.  Oops.

So, basically, I got what I deserved.

Closing Time!

Well, it's my last official day at Live Nation.

Which means it's also my last official day of having an excuse to not do cardio. Yup, my laziness has come to a not so abrupt end.  It is time to get this metabolism rollin again.

Especially important as there seems to be a lot of toasting going on today.  Toasting my time at the company, toasting my leaving the company, toasting the rain, toasting to drinking at 3pm, toasting just to toast, etc, etc.

Shaping up to be a veeeerrrry tempting weekend.  Which generally translates into an insanely fun weekend.  Unsure how it will play out on the scale.  That's where the real trouble starts.

Go go willpower!!!

Skinny Jeans

Today I am wearing my skinny jeans--from 4 years ago..you know, the last time I made a real run at this weight loss thing.

Here's the wacky part.  Though I am sporting my skinny jeans, I feel decidedly fat in them.  Which is odd, b/c I weigh less now than I did 4 years ago when I thought I was a super hot in these jeans.  The weirder thing still, is that when I look back at pictures I look waaaaay thinner then than I do now--though I am definitively lighter currently.

Also odd are my recent trips to the scale.  Yes, trip(S)..as in plural.  When I weighed myself this morning I was 4 lbs thinner than I was 8 hours earlier.  Perhaps I am sleep walking--on the treadmill.

That MUST be it. 

If only....

Flat

Flat is the word of the day.  And sadly, I am not referring to my stomach area.

Flat= My weight loss.  Last week, despite reasonable efforts, my weight remained flat.  Maddening.

Flat= My mood.  I'm clearly in a rut this week.  Dunno why, really.  I need some umph!

Flat= My hair.  The humidity this summer is a killer.  Save me San Francisco!

Flat= The soda I am drinking.  Opened it before a 4 hour long meeting--drinking it now.  Ill planning.

Flat= My portfolio.  When, oh when, is the market gonna reach 14k?!?

Ok, reaching on that last one.

Anyhow, you get my point.

Old Habits Die Hard

Got some news today that makes me want to eat and drink myself into blissful oblivion.

In the scheme of life, the "big" news is no big deal.  But it's definitely something that would generally trigger some poor choices.

There will be none of that today.  No room for cheating.  I'm a little over a third of the way to my goal  and I must stay on track.  Focused.  Head in the game.

Last week is a toss up--was in a few situations in which food got the best of me.  Stayed within my allotted points overall tho, which I guess is a win.  Will see today at the big weigh in.

To be continued.......

Results

Well, kiddos, it's official.  If you actually DO Weight Watchers...low and behold you will actually LOSE weight.  Crazy concept, I know.

The long and the short of last week is that I DID "the plan" and  I LOST 5.2 pounds.  Oddly, this is the exact amount that I gained during the month prior.  Spooky.

This puts me at a 53 pound loss total--and takes me across the 50 pound mark (again).  Though lemme tell ya, it's much more exciting the first time you get to 5-0.

Still have 3.6 lbs to go to be at my lowest.  And 24.5 lbs and counting to be back on track (should be down 77.5 big ones by now).

To be completely transparent, I was far from perfect last week.  I got closer than I'm comfortable with to using all of my weekly extra points (I try not to use 'em)...AND...I'm still not entirely back on the wagon in regards to cardio. 

Ok, let's be real.  The fact that it is Thursday and I haven't done cardio at all yet this week indicates that perhaps I can just barely see the wagon in the distance.

All bets are off and excuses are null and void in a week or so.  Once I'm dunzo with this gig--it will be cardio alllll the time--well, twice a day. 

I swear it.

Scale Obsession

I spent the first 32.75 years of my life actively avoiding scales.  And when I say active, I mean ACTIVE--turning my head when being weighed at doctor's offices and threatening the nurses if they even began to utter a number in my presence, lying about my weight at the DMV, stashing my bathroom scale so far behind the hamper that the maid would cease attempting to pull it out and place it on the floor, etc.  It got ugly.

In a shocking turn of events, all that has changed.  It's like I am magnetically drawn to any and every scale that I pass by.

It all started about a week ago.  My boyfriend keeps his bathroom scale smack dab in the middle of the dining room.  For the last two weeks it has been aggressively taunting me as I walk past and glare at it.  Last Monday as I was walking to the kitchen to snag breakfast, I took a deep breath, took three steps to the right, and stepped up on the scale. 

The immediate result is one that you are now well abreast of--I was horrified by the number and driven to act immediately.  The scale had shamed me back onto "the plan". 

The more long term impact is much more shocking.  I now have a scale obsession.  The pros tell you that weighing yourself more than once a week is counter productive; daily is down right destructive.  I wonder what they would say about weighing yourself three times a day.

I am utterly captivated by my daily weight fluctuations.  And I'm pretty sure that it's not healthy.  I'd guess that "normal" lies somewhere in between screaming and running away in horror at the mere sight of a scale and weighing yourself before and after eating an apple to see if anything has changed.

Incidentally, I can definitively say that one's weight does not change immediately after eating an apple.....

Baby T

Today I am wearing a super cute baby t (well, fat person baby t) that I have not worn in 4 years due to the ill-fitting nature of this particular shirt.

Admittedly, I don't look super hot in the super cute baby t--on account of a roll or two that appear when I stop sucking in.  However, I do look better in it than I did a week ago--and can get it over my boobs which I definitely could not do 5 months ago.

In other news, I've successfully embarked upon day 4 of being back on "the plan".  Have been totally on track food wise and kicking some workout ass.  Not particularly pleasant  and I suspect I may be acting a weeee bit more grumpish than normal.  But at least I'm doing it.

I am a little too proud of myself.

Shoulda Coulda Woulda

My reality is this:

-I should have lost 75 lbs in the 7.5 months I've been on "the plan".  To date I am down 48 lbs.

-I have not really been committed to "the plan" for at least two months.  I guess you could say that I have regressed to my San Francisco (fun!) lifestyle.

-I have not done cardio regularly in just as long.

-I gained back 8.6 lbs of my initial loss.  I can feel it all over my body and it every piece of clothing.

-For all of the above, I am BEYOND aggrevated, annoyed, infuriated, at myself.

My reality also is:

-Yesterday I sat through a Weight Watchers meeting.  Weighed in.  Actually participated in discussion.

-Yesterday and today I have tracked my points.

-Yesterday and today I have done cardio.  Tomorrow I have a date with the trainer.

-Two weekends ago I moved in with my boyfriend.  Very grownup of me.  Very excited.

In the interest of my sanity, I am electing to focus on the latter list. 

Pint

They (Oprah, Dr. Phil, Dr. Oz, all health care professionals, etc.) are adamant that stress/ emotional eating is a big no no.

Untrue.

In my not-so-esteemed opinion, it's about limiting those stress/emotional eating instances to when it is utterly and completely necessary.  Because whether we like to admit it or not, it happens.

On Monday I, for the first time, ate a pint of ice cream in one sitting.  This may come as a surprise, as I believe it is customary for those of the female persuasion to resort to the cliche ice cream binge when having love woes and work troubles.  Nope, not me.  Until this week I had never, ever, ever fallen down that well.

Guess there's a first time for everything. 

I can't even say with a straight face that the pint incident was a spontaneous, manic episode.  Nope.  The inhaling of the Ben & Jerry's was after multiple failed attempts to secure a Rolo McFlurry from McD's.  Consider the pint a last resort.

And lemme tell ya.  I do not regret it for a second and can justify it with every (increasing) ounce of my being.

On that day, I totally, utterly, wholely, and completely needed ice cream and lots of it. 

Off the Wagon

I am so far off the wagon I can't even see the dust in the distance.  Pathetic.

You may have guessed this from my radio silence over the last little while.  When I started this little writing project I vowed to be nothing but truthful on this blog.  Apparently over the last little while I've chosen absence over facing fact. 

The time has come.

Haven't adhered to any sort of plan, really, since before Morocco.  I have no real excuse.  Still on steroids--which sucks.  But oddly. the steroids don't force you to choose french fries over fruit; nor do they make you sleep in instead of going to cardio.  Nope, this one's all on me.

It's like a different version of Aryn has taken over my body--a lazy, unmotivated, blah incarnation.  I don't like her so much.

Now, for the numbers.  As of this very moment I've lost 53.2 lbs total.  Gained 3.2 lbs since the last time I weighed in 3 weeks ago.  Both the lack of weighing in and the gain are awful--but truthfully, not nearly as bad as anticipated.  Sadly, when I stepped on the scale this am I was shooting for a < 10lb gain.  How's that for driven.

A 50+ lb weight loss is nothing to sneeze at, I know this.  However, everything is relative.  And if you look at my progress over, say. the last two months, it is laughable as compared to the first two.  First two months=down 21 lbs.  Last two months=down 8.4 lbs.  8.4 lbs-WHAT?  I used to lose close to that in one week!!!!

Don't let me fool you.  I am in no sort of conundrum (sp).  The answer is simple.  Do the freakin program.  I get it.  Yet I clearly don't GET IT. 

And I'm not sure what I need to get jump started--other than a muzzle.

In Shallah

Morocco was nothing short of amazing--not gonna even try to portray the three-ish weeks I was fortunate to spend exploring.

I will share a tidbit of culture that will no doubt stick with me.

There is a phrase that Moroccans seem to stick to the end of virtually every statement..."In Shallah."  Loosely translated, this means "God willing."

At first, I found it amusing..the whole "in shallah-ing" this and "in shallah-ing" that.  Here an "in shallah," there an "in shallah," everywhere an "in shallah".

However, the more I heard it used, the more I was truly enamored by the phrase.  Perhaps it has something to do with the tone--almost every time I heard it, it was delivered in a hopeful, deliberate fashion.  As if the person was cautiously optimistic that whatever positive step they were channeling would actually come to fruition--but that deep down, they truly believed that good things would follow.

Before I knew it, I was "in shallah-ing" with the best of 'em.  And I did my best to replicate the proper delivery.

Things have been a bit crazy since returning from the trip.  Health-health and health-fitness challenges have sprung from the woodwork.  No fun.

On the upside, I am down another 11 lbs.  That makes 57 lbs total in just shy of 6 months.

On the downside, at this moment I am having a bit of trouble focusing on the upside.

All I can say at this point is that things will all work out as they are supposed to....IN SHALLAH!