Also while I'm in a good mood... or not.

(I just realized I have the annoying habit of not posting for weeks then posting multiple updates in a day. If you hate this, I hear ya. Skip along)

I remember that cold I told you about a few weeks back??? It's back. And It's a bitch.

When I spoke to my cousin the other day she gave me the whole "oh no you're not sick again are you" talk. I explained to her that I am not in the habit of faking my illness and I do in fact have an immune system likened to that of a cancer patent. Awful, but slightly true.

I will quote the next few lines verbatim because even if I made this up it would not be as offensive as the way it came out of her mouth.

K: Sick again huh? Well when what the last time you were on Lulu? (Lulu my beach cruiser)

S: Huh? What does that have to do with anything?

K: When was the last time you rode your bike?

S: Kel, I'm sick and it's 25 degrees why would I ride my bike?

K: Well you need to get on that bike. Everything I've read says there's a link to exercise and the strength of your immune system. That's why you're always sick.

S: Kel, even if I wanted to ride my bike it's FREEZING I'd get pneumonia and the sidewalks are covered in snow and ice! I don't even think I could get out of my parking lot!

K: I'm just saying, because I've been trying to figure out why I haven't been sick at all and I think it's because I've become so active. You can't make excuses because of the weather!

ok. I admit. it wasn't quite as offensive as I made it out to be. You're getting the version without voice affliction... also I'm being a bit of a baby. 

Let me just make these points though...

The high today was 28. twenty eight. not celsius. fahrenheit. that's damn cold. and it was the high.

The woman who is giving this exercise advice is living a sweet 600 miles to the south where the weather doesn't pack as much of a punch.

And here is my pièce de résistance, the cream of the crop in excuses: 

I am slightly jaded because my mother (along with her 2 cats and 1 dog) is currently residing with my husband and myself. Why, do you ask? Because two weeks ago, while clearing snow off her car in the parking lot, she fell and shattered her femur. She had surgery where a rod and pins were put in to hold it all together, spent 1 week in the hospital, another in a rehab facility, and will spend the next 4 weeks at my residence where she will require my assistance to shower, shit and shave. 

So honestly, I ask you, is it  so wrong that I am leery to hop on the beach cruiser in a Michigan December?

I ask you followers to pick a side. My side. The right side. 

I guess I don't have quite the same argument for the stationary bike. But if you give me a minute I'll work one up.

oh ya know sometimes I mosey into this place once a month

what. is my. deal.

I have been home, pretty consistently, for ohhh um... about a month.
On my ass.
Eating everything.
Never blogging.
All while trying to do as little actual physical activity as possible.

Sad but true.

I even caught myself doing that weird use your toes as fingers thing to avoid bending over to pick things up... even sadder... the thing I picked up with my monkey feet was my toothbrush.
WHO AM I??? 
My toothbrush is the last thing (next to instruments used in gynecological exams) I want to have my chubby sausage toes all over. I just threw up a little in my mouth.

I am trying to save myself from saying, or thinking for that matter, the phrase "I'll start fresh again in the new year!" ugh. I hate those people. Those people who crowd the gym just to stand by the water fountain and take the big stall in the bathroom. Those people who flirt with the people working at the front desk and wear three inch hoop earrings and full face makeup to break a sweat. The worst of these are the people on cell phones doing cardio. seriously. Thankfully these people die off around week three and I can feel the burn with out overhearing about someones latest STD. I appreciate your lack of perseverance New Years Resolution Breakers. I really do.

It is in all of this cynicism that I realize as irregular as I may be I am not these people. Or at least I hope not to be. I want to be that girl who looks like she belongs. Who looks like there's no where she'd rather be at 6am saturday morning. I would love to run on a treadmill in a shirt from an actual race I was in... As opposed to wearing my "I'd rather be napping" t-shirt.

It's funny how as I read this back I realize how superficial I am being, while chastising others for being superficial. Yuck.

Being fat makes me mean.

Here's to being nice in the new year. xox

A little story about love... and the desire to wear a turkey hat.

I don't know about all of you out there but my family loves with food.

Rediculous but true.

** If you're having a hard day a good meal will clear your mind.

** If you're having a good day, lets cook something to celebrate.

** Holiday? Surely there's a cake/ cookie/ pasta dish just right for the occasion.

** It's your birthday? Lets go out to dinner! (and make a cake)

** Wedding or baby shower of some sort? Have it at the restaurant with the good bruchetta.

And God forbid someone dies, we litterally eat for three days.

It's sickning really.

And I'm not talking a bunch of amateur eaters here. We are professionals. My grandfather owned a catering company, at which nearly all of my family members were employed. I spent my childhood summers hanging out in the walk-in cooler, sitting on a milk crate, drinking coca-cola out of a glass bottle with my cousins. Occasionally I would be incharge of stickering the sandwiches with neon colored lables (that I mostly stuck all over my body instead)

Some of my best memories of my family come from "the store" as we called it. My grandpas smoky office with the big blue metal desk where he would let me count and roll coins. Going out on a route with my cousins and meeting all the factory workers downtown. The first time I ever had Kielbasa was in the cab of one of those trucks and it was love at first bite.

My grandpa later sold the business and retired to Florida, where old people seem to like to die. One of my aunts started a restaurant with a friend and I worked there when I was not quite old enough, scraping dishes and taking old grease to the dumpster. One would think the experience would turn me off from food, but lets be honest... a cold, old french fry under a dirty napkin holds no flame to the crispy potato lovlieness that comes fresh out of the fryer and onto my plate. I could always distinguish. That was my problem.

None the less my entire family life has undisputably revolved around food.

I won't say (because it would be a flat out lie) that everyone in my family is fit and healthy, but you would think we would be a family of 500lb the way we eat. Sadly I would have to say that I am the fattest of them all and since I'm nearly the youngest it's beyond pathetic.

After that heartwarming story, on to the point!

Do you think a zebra can really change his stripes??? Can we go from being a family who eats together to a family who moves together? Everything in me wants to believe so.

Every year for the past 28 years the city of Detroit has held the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving day (10k, 5k, 1k races for charity) and some 22,000 or so people participate... And every year we have sat on our asses and watched it on TV while sneaking ham rolls from the kitchen.

Well this year my cousin Kelly and her husband decided to run the 5k and a few of us went down to cheer them on. This is pathetic in many ways, but two specifically come to mind.

1) They don't even live in Detroit anymore. They live in Virginia. All of us Michiganders stood on the sidelines and watched out of staters run a fundraiser for our city. Fail.

2) I don't know if you remember but back in August (before I fell off the weightloss wagon) I had the BRILLIANT idea of training for a 5k. An idea that I was so excited about and shared with this same cousin who decided she wanted to run one for the first time too. Since August she has ran 3. The Turkey Trot was her 4th. *mental forehead slap*

I must say that the Turkey Trot looked much more fun than those boring Ironman competitions. There were costumes and signs and silly socks and.... wait for it... giant hats shaped like turkeys. Not the gobble gobble bird kind of turkey, but the beheaded, plucked, fresh out of the oven kind. You stick your head up what would be the ass (I think) and it looks like a good time. I want one. Bad. My desire to own that hat far outweighs my fears of being a fat girl in a 5k.

nearing the end of the race, chickens and young children on the sidelines

the only two (out of 15 of us) of us who raced.

the object of my affection, TURKEY HAT! :)

So I have decided, for the better health of my self and my family (and in the interest of owning millinery shaped like poultry)  next year we would all participate in some form at this event, be it in the 1k 5k or 10 k races and although I got a lot of grumbles, I think we're all in.

One day I hope that we can learn to love each other through mutual activity and friendly competition rather than mostacolli and I'm pretty sure we're on our way.

Are your families food habits anything like mine? I'd love to hear your stories :)

I'm a sick puppy.

I have mysteriously contracted a hellacious cold/ flu/overall horrible feeling some time in the last 24 hours. I have a fever my nose is running like a faucet and my lip/ nasal area is so red I am looking seasonally appropriate (a la Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer). 

However in all of my illness I am staying focused on weight loss. Granted it's only been one day that I've been sick AND on a weight loss plan, but it's a one day win in my book. Water is good for me... when I'm sick or other wise so I'm drinking a ton. I'm not binging on my feel good drink of choice (hot cocoa with extra milk, extra chocolate, extra sugar, half pound of marshmallows) I've instead opted for Chai tea with a Truvia sweetner. So far so good.

Yesterday, before I felt like death, I managed to hit the grocery store and the gym. Both were a success. 

I avoided the evils of the grocery store, loading up on salad greens and yummy low carb yogurt. Also if anyone else out there is low-carbing it Kroger (and I'm sure other grocery stores) sells out of this world  wraps with an incredible 12 grams of fiber. The kicker is that they're actually very soft and pliable unlike so many others. I recommend highly, but I don't recommend eating more than one at a time. Trust me. Your colon will thank you.

The gym could have been better honestly. Granted my nose was starting to run and I was developing a fever so I probably shouldn't have been there, but at the time I didn't feel that bad. I started out really pumped up (a great playlist helps that) and thought I would see how long it would take me to do a 5k or 3.1 miles (I'll tell you why in another post) on the treadmill. Needless to say I didn't find out. I did a 5 minute warm up and alternated 60 seconds of jogging with 60 seconds of walking. I lasted 15 minutes until I sneezed something nasty all over the treadmill (thank God for disinfectant spray) and decided that was as good a time as any to call it quits. 

I worked on my back, triceps, and biceps then cooled down with 15 minutes on the bike before I left. Even though I felt ill, emotionally it felt good to follow through on my promise to "Do something active for 30 minutes a day. every. single. day." (even days when I feel like crap)

I must go now and do Bridesmaidy things with my good friend Laura... who's wedding is in June if you remember. She has just informed me that she would like me to order my dress by the end of December, due to my general forgetfulness, string of bad luck, and attraction to overall mayhem, "just in case". I can't say that I can really argue with her. I do happen to be a magnet for mishaps, but I did manage to haggle with her and get until the end of January.

Reason 865,713 why I need to lose some weight: I need not look like a stuffed sausage in a bridesmaid dress... and I only have two stinking months to make a difference. yeesh.

Oh Mi Oh My How I Have Missed You

I know.

I know.

IknowIknowIknowIknowIknowIknow.

It's been a SHOCKING 2 months (and 2 days) since my last blog and I feel wretched. :(

I promised, myself and you, that I would stick with this blog for better or for worse. I must say I am really good when it's for the better... super lousy when it's for the worse.

Blogging has literally been on my to do list since October 4th. Sad. I'm aware.

But honestly it's no fun to tell people you're cheating like crazy and getting fatter. And that my friends sums up the last 2 months in a nut shell, but for those of you more interested in my self destruction please continue to read below.

My wedding anniversary was in October and the hubby and I dipped off to LasVegas... or as I like to call it No Weight-Las Vegas. That was the beginning of the end. Buffets. More Nathan's hot dogs than any one human should be allowed to consume. A few margaritas a day. Dessert. More dessert. Wonderfully carb-o-lisous Italian food. Wine. And last but not least the most wonderful, sugary sweet, 8 million calorie, piece of heaven masquerading as a breakfast sandwich available just a few steps from our hotel lobby.

Ladies and gentleman I am legitimately surprised of two things. 1) that I did not some how slip into a food coma and 2) that I was able to fasten my seatbelt on the airplane ride home.

Fast forward to Halloween... which really goes without much explanation. It's amazing how much candy one can consume when she A. doesn't even have her own children and B. didn't even BUY any candy at the store. It was all very ninja like theft from my niece and nephew who I feel are too young (and I hope never understand) to appreciate all of the love contained in a Reece's peanut butter cup.

Fast forward again... skipping over the entire month of November where I figured I would just eat like a crazy person EVERYDAY in preparation for Thanksgiving, where shockingly I ate very little, go figure.

All in all, I was very embarrassed to admit my failure. Which is why I so avoided this return. Which is quite silly because almost nothing (i.e. riding a beach cruiser with pigtails, face planting on the treadmill at the gym, constantly and forever tripping over my own feet) really embarrasses me to the core. It just seemed like the longer I went on without blogging the harder it was going to be to return and explain my indiscretions.

Anyhow enough with the ridiculously boring woe-is-me talk. As of yesterday I am back on the wagon. Not really sure who's wagon or even what wagon, but was long as it's moving towards Skinnytown and away from giant underpants I don't really care.

I went to to gym with my husband last night (for the first time in months) and when we were walking back to the car all red and sweaty he looks at me and says "I don't know why we always drag our feet to the gym, we always feel great afterwards" and he was right. We do feel great. I feel better after the gym than I do after chicken fingers and I need to keep reminding my self of that. Maybe I'll have it embroidered on a pillow. Watch for in in the gift shop.

Today, even though I told myself I would do it yesterday, I weighed myself, which wasn't nearly as devastating as I had worked myself up for it to be. I gained .3lbs since I last blogged 2 months ago, which honestly is like a single poop so I'm not even freaked out by it. Even better is that it is 3.3lbs less than I was just after Halloween so I really need to stop all the dramatics. Stressing out about seems to add more weight than what I actually put in my mouth. I'll have to chew on that a while.

Regardless of how long Ive been gone it is so good to be back :) I especially missed my little cheerleaders Roxie and Robin, and I can't wait to catch up on their blogs. I was going to sit down and read everyones updates before I sat down to write this, but since procrastination is my downfall, I figured I'd better write something before 2 months turned to 3.

I have a ton of reading ahead of me over the next few days I'm sure so prepare yourselves for an obscene amount of blog commenting.

And thank you... for sticking with it even when I didn't. xox

This confession has to be quick I'm on my way out the door.

And I debated on whether or not to tell you.

I. am. horrible.

Following my four pound weight loss I proceeded to eat shit. Junk. Sonic shake and deep fried mushrooms.

Someone wire my jaw shut now before it's too late and you find me covered in powdered sugar in under a rack in the corner of a Lane Bryant somewhere sobbing.

Slight redeeming quality: I rode my bike 6 miles yesterday.

Still. Very bad girl.

I am losing weight... despite myself.

Hello skinny people (seeing the future is one of my many talents) How are you this beautiful fall morning? Good? Great? Fan-fucking-tastic?

Just a quick little smidegen of information before I go off and spend my Saturday at the happiest place on earth :) That's right boys and girls I'm talking about IKEA. sigh. It's practically my Disney World.

FOCUS.

I just wanted to type a quick little diddy about my scale avoidance. And by avoidance I mean total and complete aversion to. Let's just say I have not had what I would consider "healthy eating habits" these past few weeks. You know... no breakfast. No water. Fist full of fun-sized Mounds candy bars. Stuff like that. So I was paranoid to get on the scale and get discouraged (notice my ticker above had not been updated).

In all actuality this is rather... well... stupid. Because If I gained weight I gained weight regardless of whether or not I read it on a scale. Do any of you ever get that way? Like it doesn't count if you don't see the number? If the last time I stepped on a scale I was 168, am I still 168 even though my pants no longer fit and I can barely fit through a door frame? Hypothetical of course. I had my door frames widened years ago.

Well today I grew a pair and hopped on my wii fit (my preferred method of weight tracking) only to find I had lost 4.2 lbs since my last weigh in! (disclaimer: I gained 1.5 lbs my last weigh in as it was the day after returning from vacation and my ever eventful journey on the Greyhound bus) None the less, I lost 4.2 lbs in one week. WOWZA!

I give complete and total credit to my BFF Lulu who has been out and about nearly everyday since we met <3 because Honestly I didn't make it easy on myself. Can you think of the numbers that would have fallen off had I done what I was supposed to do? Gets me all hot and bothered.

God knows just what I need for motivation.... results! Thanks God. You're the coolest.

I am in Luuuuuuurv. And my husband is ok with the threesome.

Ladies and Gentleman (I can say this now because I now have men followers) First let me start off by saying I love you people.

I do.

Nothing makes me more happy to rise and shine in the morning to freshly typed blog updates on my reader page. :) Stories of weight loss heartache, minor set backs, and my personal favorites, the success in daily battles. I feel like with you, my little groupies, I can do anything. Love.

Annnnd to make it even more spectacular I now have NINE count them 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9er followers. Sure, some of you pro bloggers snicker at my nine while you admire your ten million five hundred thousand followers, but let me just tell you something. We're not a big people, but we have heart and are amazing in every way. It's true. Let the jealously ensue.

Now for my announcement. I have found love. Love like I never thought I could know. She's beautiful. Perfect in everyway. My husband says he thinks so too, but I think he's just complying as to not hurt my feelings.

Her name is Lulu (I didn't make that up, it's her birth name and I happen to love it, makes her sound exotic, like French or something) and she is a Schwinn beach cruiser.

I spotted Lulu a few weeks ago and told my husband if he ever wanted me to bear his children she would be mine. Complete with a handle bar basket. Needless to say our relationship is built on threats. I kid. I kid. Please don't write me with your marriage counseling advice.

Our first ride was exhilarating. I put my feet out to the sides and threw my head back, elementary school style. The neighbors no longer speak to me. I don't care.

If I was 14 I couldn't appreciate all that is her grace and beauty, but as a twenty something I am drinking it up like milk. The general public loves her too. I get genuine smiles, waves from children, and the occasional "cool bike". Thanks. I know she's cool, but I thank you for recognizing it too.

Maybe it's not just the bike. Maybe it's me on the bike. I feel like I exude this aura of happiness and glee when I ride her. And I hope people can see that.

My journey to Lulu has been a rough one. I have been looking for a bike for a while... well not so much actively looking as hoping the right one would just run over my toe while I sat on my couch eating fried foods. But since this whole weight loss commitment thing I have felt pressure to really find one. We've been to countless sporting good shops and big box stores. I even perused a Trek store only to turn myself right around at the price tag. My wallet was not as committed to fitness as my heart.

Nothing felt like a good fit. Nothing felt like me. I didn't want anything too technical in fear that someone would ask me the specifics about the damn thing and I would look like an asshole for not knowing. I'm not out for hardcore cycling and adventure... although the outfits are quite convincing.

I wanted something that would be comfortable for me but not make me look like a senior citizen, a la the adult tricycle.

I just recently became a follower of Bitchcakes and discovered that she had a Hello Kitty beach cruiser! I thought to myself, "Self, maybe a beach cruiser is just what you need. It's simple, classic, and you're ass should fit on the oversized seat without too much of a struggle".

Not but two days later did I land my eyes on Lulu and It was love at first sight. And she loved me back. Or at least that's what the man at the store said as I practiced riding her.

This bike marked my first major purchase and financial commitment to my health. I was trying to think of the last hundred or so things I bought myself and none of them were for the greater good of my health and well being. It felt good, on a personal level to know that I was worth it. And that everyone I asked agreed I was worth it.

When I think of all of the money I've wasted on fast and junk food, not even in my life time, but just in the last year, it probably quadruples the cost of this bike. And she makes me feel so much better, not worse about myself.

Here's to Lulu... and you, my fabulous nine of course xox

you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

but I'm going to tell you anyways.

Y'all (a little diddy I picked up from my vaca in the southern states) know about my trip to defunk myself. Well, it was fabulous and, I think, very benefical.

I had to cut it short (if two weeks is short) because my very adorable neice (nicknamed Pig Badger because if this animalistic sound she makes when pissed off) turned the big O-N-E on Saturday and I desperately wanted to be at her birthday party.

Not too long after I decided to stay down there, and as I watched my husband drive away in our car, I thought I should probably figure out what method of transportation would be carrying me home. Flying was out of the question as Bristol's airport is basically a middle school with a runway and a ticket home ran a whopping 600 bucks.

So a  mere two days before I was to depart I decided to go ahead and book my rental car. I ran into a tiny snaffu when I realized that nearly every rental car company was unwilling to do one-way rentals. wtfghjgidkshvxmcn. shit.

The only one I did find willing to do a one-way rental cost a small fortune. Plus gas.

Cheapness will forever be my downfall.

I decided to take a Greyhound bus, a method of transportation I had not had the privilege of using since I was fifteen and blissfully unaware of the more comfortable sanitary speedier ways to travel. Hell I couldn't even drive then.

The itinerary said it was a 16 hour trip (with two, two hour layovers for transfers) which blew my mind because it only takes us nine hours tops in a car. Should have seen it coming #1.

So I get dropped off at what is supposed to be a bus station, but is in all actuality an auto mechanic's garage with a Greyhound sticker on the door. Should have seen it coming #2.

People were very nice. I made friendly conversation with a nice man going to see his daughter who was soon to be giving birth to his fourth grandbaby. I let him use my cell phone to call her once we got to Knoxville and had to dial it for him because he "didn't know how to work these futuristic toys". Very cute.

All was well until about 10 pm when we stopped in Middle of Nowhere Kentucky at a Burger King rest stop type place. I discovered upon standing up to exit the bus that I had gotten my monthly gift a whole week early. Yippie.

I ducked off to the bathroom and vaguely heard the bus driver mumble something about already being late, something or other about hurrying and then a sort of threat about the next bus not coming through for 12 hours.

I joylessly cleaned my self up as best as I could in the dirty bathroom trying to balance in ways that would best keep me from touching anything. My ass kept hitting the toilet paper dispenser on one side and the cold metal stall door on the other and I never wished harder for a smaller ass than right then.

I left the germ-a-palooza and made a quick call to my husband. Only to glance outside and see no bus.

NO BUS.

I was honestly in denial. I ran outside and circled to building half a dozen times... spotting my bus driving away from me down the highway.

After an offer to ride with a toothless man to Lexington, panic set in. I spotted a Walmart down the road and took off walking. Sobbing uncontrollably but walking.

I called the only person I knew in the state of Kentucky, who just happens to be my BFF, and asked her to come get me. She was three hours away, but she made it in two. She drove me to the bus station in  Cincinnati (another 3 hours away) where I slept on the floor and waited for the next bus home at 7am.

Here's a map of my adventure.

A. is where I started
B. is where I was stranded
C. is where I slept on the floor of the bus station
D. is home sweet home.

Folks. If it didn't happen to me I would have never believed it. My little 16 hour excursion lasted a whopping 23 hours. If I hadn't been cheap, it would have been  nine comfortable germ free hours in a cushy rental. Take my advice. Don't be too frugal.

I made it to the birthday party 2.5 hours late, and very sleepy, but I made it. And you will never. ever. catch my fat ass on a Greyhound again.

In all of my stress I consumed a cheeseburger, french fries, a burrito, cake, ice cream, regular soda, more cake, and mostacholi.

Awful. I know. But no one dared to stop me after my journey through travel hell. Today I am back on the wagon! And I have some very exciting news that I will announce in another post, as to not contaminate it with the negativity of this post.

Thanks for loving me in all of my pessimistic glory xox

Sometimes I Just Get in a Funk...

and it's hard to crawl out of.

I'm almost positive it's hormonal because my periods are so sporadic I wouldn't bet nickel on them. And amongst other things I'm sure my weight has serious "weight" on my hormone levels too.

I tried to do things that would make me naturally happier... like exercise. And eating healthier.

Jungle Gym Therapy

I even found a swingset in the park and swung til my butt went numb hoping it would snap me out of it. Honestly it helped a little :)

My husband suggested that when we took our little four day vacation to visit my family in Bristol that I stay a week or so and get some girl time in.

So that my friends, is percisely why I have been blogingly neglectful.

I've had tons of fun... you heard about my biking adventure I'm sure.

We've been doing lots of girly things like:

• We broke out the sewing machine (that someone bought 3 years ago and was still in it's box).
• We spend a ridiculous amount of the day on the porch swing watching the cows (it happens to be the very spot I am blogging from now)
• I have every intention of learning to crochet before I leave. I have this unnatural favor of winter scarves and it would just fuel my fire if I could make my own.
• We went to a paint you're own pottery place and I made these super awesome one of a kind food and water bowls for my kitty.

Have I ever told you that I have a cat? Well I do... and her name is Callie because she's a calico. Original. I know. She is very ugly, but very lovable which is why she has a home in the first place. I like to think we're better people because we took the ugly kitten. It's a horrible thought, but it's still true.

Anyhow. Back to my funk.

Before I left I went to the doctors to get my annual blood work done and go back on the pill (which has always helped my moods before). The results came back and... drumroll please...

I am completely healthy. I'm fat. But I'm healthy. Figures.

So I got to thinkin, one of those days on the porch swing, maybe I've felt like this for longer than I thought... but since I ate at any and every sign of emotion (good or bad)  it just wasn't as apparent until now.

Could it be? Was ice cream my anti-depressant? Is all of this funk just from the lack of my beloved high fructose corn syrup? It's a strong possibility. Getting stronger every day.

Maybe I'm just angry inside. Angry that lettuce doesn't taste like pie. Angry that comfort food only comes in horrible things that clog arteries and promote stretch marks. Angry that even though I know all of the facts and figures if someone wasn't looking I'd choose the blueberry muffin over... well just about anything else. It's so freaking frustrating to know the hold this food has over me!

It will pass. This I am sure of that. But it sure is a pain in the ass now.

I will say it's helped so much being able to read blogs from Roxie and Robin and Bitchcakes  . Their progress is a fat free calorie free sugar free carb free pick me up and that's precisely what I needed.

Keep up the good work kids and stay out of the funk xox

I am experiencing technical difficulties. What else is new.

UPDATE:
Please completely disregard the following post until I figure out how to resolve this issue with out falling off the face of the earth. I tried the suggested method only to find that although I changed my URL to correct the typo (woopsie) the reader feed didn't work. And without the reader feed how are you supposed to read me??? That's how I read you!

In talking to the google techies in the forum I've found it to be much to difficult for my pea brain to comprehend why exactly it must be so complex.

So until further notice my people I shall remain your DAIRY queen xox






I have just been informed by my loving spelling bee champion of a husband, that when I registered my URL with blogger I chose dairyofanotsoskinnygirl.blogspot.com... dairy... like as in dairy cow.

Mental forehead slap.

I have updated it to diaryofanotsoskinnygirl.bolgspot.com for anyone who cares.

What this means is that all of my posts and comments will remain intact, but my prior posts, although they may appear in your reader, will be dead links.

Panic ensued when I was told this, but I am assured that by posting this all future posts will link to the new URL and I will not lose my FIVE (what a lovely five you are) followers. pfew. close call.

so... for future reference this is a diary. not a dairy.

although I do like to think of myself as the dairy queen :)

I'm going to need a vacation from my vacation...

And that's such an awesome thing.

I'm on a mini vacation/ family visit which normally would spell T-R-O-U-B-L-E for a weight loss plan. Because we love each other with food. Sugary. Full fat. Wonderful food. This is fact.

But I happen to have the most wonderful understanding rezilliant adaptable family in the world and since they all know about my battle with food and excercize they decided to make this time different.

So...

After a nine hour ride and a sizable nap we all headed out for a bike ride.

Disclaimer: I have not ridden a bike since I was ten years old with the exeption of a very cool (very senior citizen style) leasure bike around my aunts retirement community in Phoenix this past February.

So as we're loading the bikes onto the trailer, my cousin very CASUALLY mentions that the trail we're going to be biking is 17 miles.

17 miles!!!

I started to have heart palpitation at the thought... the sweats set in and  I peed a little in my underpants.

She soon began to justify it by saying it was mostly downhill and it was a very leisurely ride.

Well. Leisurely wouldn't have been my choice of words exactly.

You can view my mountain here. That's right I said mountain.

I will say that it was quite a bit down hill. But not completely. And surprisingly I was more prepared than I thought. Turns out riding a bike is just like... well riding a bike.

But I was much more prepared than my ass was (I think I now know what it's like to have a rectal exam and pap smear simultaneously). Also, I couldn't get the hang of shifting into lower/higher gears for like the first five miles. Which I'm sure contributed to my pain.

And honestly it really didn't matter how downhill it was because the constant changing terrain of the trail and small muddy patches kept me peddling most of the time.

I was named most likely to take a dive on my bike by my family. I will say that I was not the first to go down. I was the second. And I wanted to cry like a bitch. But I didn't. View my battle wounds below.

It felt worse than it looked. Trust me.

Just in case any of you decide to bike down the Creeper Trail at Whitetop I have a tiny piece of advice. Tiny. If you see this:

hmmmm bad omen?

Please listen. Do not ride over the barricade netting because you may be forced to do this:

Carrying/ Pushing our bikes around bridge under construction

We had to carry or push our bikes across not one. Not two. But Three bridges that were down or under construction. Some of which required balancing (in which I do not excel) on a six inch wide board and shimmying across a hole. An adventure sure, but I'm kind of a delicate girl.

Thankfully I wasn't hauling ass quite as much as some of the teenagers which for my sake meant I didn't end up like this:

he didn't see the hole in front of him until he was in it

Thankfully I was spared at a mere 13 miles due to lack of daylight. And let me just clarify. When I say "lack of daylight" what I mean is the complete and total absence of any sort of light. Did we have flashlights? No. Bike lights? Nada. And FYI reflective clothing is only reflective if there is light to shine on it.

Riding my bike in the dark down a bumpy trail (that I was only following based on feeling of the terrain beneath my tires) while bats and other creatures of the night were flying overhead was the most exhilarating part of the day. We literally could not see two feet in front of us. The leader would yell "BUMP" and "BRIDGE" as he passed over them and we would repeat them, telephone style, to the back of the line so everyone was prepared.

 It was... the most miraculous display of teamwork ever. And it basically it made my day.

Two days later now, it still hurts to sit. But a little less. And my husband is still removing his testicles from his colon, but I think in a year or two (when his wounds are a little less fresh) he may come with me again.

I also managed to walk two miles last night in spite of my wounds. Which lights up my life ♥

I'm learning it's Ok to be proud of yourself. Its more gratifying than waiting for others to be proud of you. But it's even more awesome when they are proud of you too.

I promise, to you and myself, to keep eating well, and keep moving on this vacation. Even if it means I'll need a vacation from my vacation :)

Today My Glass is Half Full

Today is the day I feel firmly planted in the 260's. And what a glorious day it is.

Glorious because just last Monday, 7 short days ago, I weighed in at 270.9. Today I weigh a very fabulous 268.1. I love dropping an entire middle number more than I love... well just about anything, but mostly more than I love deep fried foods.

Strangely I thought this wouldn't be a very good week for weightloss. But I guess my little excursion to the movies willed the scale otherwise.

2.8

2.8

2.8

pounds.


Yes ladies and gents this is what I lost this week. You can applaud. It's ok I won't be embarassed. Go ahead. Praise me... I'll wait...

{ insert compliment here }

Thank you for your kind words vibes thoughts etc. They are extremely well deserved appreciated :)

Annnd I have exciting news! I was recently asked to be a bridesmaid in a friends wedding next June. A mere 30 seconds after she asked me my thoughts were on the dress.

Will it look like this?

or THIS?

This?

Or this?

And then I scolded myself internally for being so dramatic, as I most always am, and reminded myself that my friend has both style and class. Hopefully.

And then (dramatic pause) it happened. The seed was planted I couldn't get the idea out of my head with the jaws of life.

What if...

wait for it...

By some grace of GOD, I didn't have to buy a plus sized dress.

Let it marinate for a moment.

What would that mean??? Could I do it? Possibly. Sure. Of course I can do it. But my question has always been will I do it? And I think, truthfully, because I'm not trying to be a big liar, I will do it.

June is an entire 10 months away. The my glass-half-full side says "that's plenty of time". While my glass-half-empty side says "that's plenty of time to give up".

This is what I say.

I didn't start this journey to look good in a bridesmaid dress. I started it to look good naked. Oops. No seriously. I started to be a healthier skinnier happier more wonderful me. And if a byproduct of all that happens to be that I look like a freaking knockout in a NON-Plus sized bridesmaid dress then so be it. It's just icing on the cake.

mmm cake. well... angel food cake... with fat free sugar free cool whip. cake none the less.

So my skinny minis, I am off to choke down my obligatory multivitamin and wash it down with a big ole glass of water. With the glass that was half full of course ;)



** side note **

When I told my husband about the dress thing he said
"That's great honey! And maybe you won't have to wear your Spanx this time."

I said
"Oh no honey, a girl always looks better in Spanx. Even if she's a size 4."

It is truth.

Sometimes you just feel like a drop in the ocean.

I've been getting a big chest lately. In the sense that I've been having a lot of pride. Not in the growth of my actual (12 year old sized) breasts. I wish.

Friday I decided I wanted to go to a movie. Then I decided I could walk/jog there. And I did. And I was so happy I almost cried to the guy at the ticket booth...

Because 6 months ago I would have let you have a few four letter words if you would have suggested I walk the nearly 2.5 miles. This movie theater, for my lovely readers, is just past my borders. And as I gleefully chugged past the borders I got a little emotional.

Here I was. Alone. On a JOG. Mid-day. During a marathon of Color Splash (my favorite on HGTV) I managed to pry myself away from. In pants that left nothing to the imagination. I was sweating. And I my hair was atrocious. But I was doing it. And it was choking me up...

Because I have tried. And failed. So many painfully heartbreaking times to lose weight.

You hear (mostly skinny) people say iggnorant bullshit like:

"You just have to committ to it"

and my personal favorite

"when you're really ready to lose wieght you will"

I wanted to slap them silly. I'm fat. Of course I'm ready to be skinny!!!

FAIR WARNING: I may be getting a little after-school special on you

But then all at once it hit me. I wasn't ready if I wasn't willing to do whatever it takes. And now that I am ready to do whatever it takes I want to give myself a great big hug. Because I don't think we hug ourselves enough.

I want to thank me. For saving myself from drowning in a sea of fat and fellow fat people. Because that's what I felt like. I felt like I was one lowly drop in an ocean of obesity. I surrounded myself with bad habits and excuses and worst of all tolerance.

So when I looked at my reflection in the entrance doors of the theater, A sweaty blotchy red mess. I saw a girl who had thrown herself a life preserver. Literally and figuratively. And I have never been more proud in all of my adult life. Seriously.

I took my time on the way home. Stopped and got a Powerade Zero. Looked at my new ass in every reflective surface I passed. Smiled until my face hurt.

That night I walked another 1.6 miles to the batting cages and back with my husband instead of sitting in front of the TV.

I would love to say that day was full of simple wins... But to me they were big big wins.

I think the cats out of the bag...

I think since this is a weight loss blog I can assume that we're all fat here. Or were once fat. Recovering fataholics if you will.

If you in fact you were never fat (liar) than I apologize for my brashness but I would like to share a few photos and their mutually offensive comments with my very large (4 followers, one of which is me) group of fans.

PLEASE NOTE
I had ran into a techincal difficulty when powering up the ole scanner. So I used a poor mans scanner (taking a picture of a picture) so that these could be posted sometime before I retire.

So my friends I take you back... To a time and a photo that I think exemplifies my relationship with food.



I was one here. It was forth of July. My mother put me on the table in front of food to keep me quiet. This trick still works today.


I wasn't always fat you know. I don't think it really started to creep up on me until the age of six. This is the first "chubby picture" I found of myself. And I remember looking at it and knowing I was bigger than most of the other kids. I specifically remember seeing this picture and wanting, so badly to be smaller. I tried really hard to remember where that idea of "smaller is better" was implanted in me and I can't for the life of me figure it out.



I am the first one on the left. Top row. Notice the uncanny resemblance to my teacher. The turtle neck that exemplifies my round little face. Tucked in, of course, to parachute pants. Tight on the ankles loose in the hips. Just the way I liked em ;)

This next one.... well lets take a deep breath and prepare....

did you take one...

don't cheat now...

Ok... This next one displays my second favorite fashion DON'T for young chubby bunnies like myself... The first of which was of course parachute pants. Yuk.

I've searched online and polled friends to find out the name of this 1990's swim suit fashion staple, but no one seems to have an answer.

I've gotten several great names. The "fauxkini". The "monokini". But no one knows the actual name of these things or further more if they can still be purchased.

I would love to take my before and after photos in one of these bad boys. I'm just sayin.



Ok you can't really get the full effect unless viewed from the front. Unfortunately (or not depending on how you look at it) I couldn't seem to round one up. The beauty of this little number is that it's a bikini that is joined at the sides like a one piece, creating this oval cut out that frames a Buddha belly perfectly. Cute when you're two yes. Not when you're ten.

I'm just going to throw this next one out there.



Yes I'm round, but mostly I thought that this third grade picture was a sort of emarassment of riches. The enormous glasses. The waterfall wave bangs. The flannel shirt. Buttoned all the way up. It's a good time. This is what memories are made of people.

I'm sure I have some gems from more recent times and I'll get to them. In the mean time I'm going to post these.






The two happiest days of my life... thus far :)

My graduation.

And my wedding day.

Just to end on a happy note xox

Stay skinny girls!

The Day I Conquered the Cookie

Yesterday I went grocery shopping, which, when I am alone and not under a time constraint I happen to quite enjoy.

Case and point. My grocery excursion lasted a whopping 2 hours last night.

I took my time. Perused the produce.

Waited patently at the deli counter. Which, by the way, conveniently had a nutrition facts pamphlet of ALL of their deli meats and cheeses. Epic win.

The girl behind the meat counter was pleasant and funny which was good because her coworkers had all called off and she was trying to close the joint by herself. I made pleasant conversation while a less patient patron rounded up the manager. We all got five dollar gift card for our patience. Epic win #2.

Not wanting to be a total square and damn my husband to a low carb life, I decided to pick up a bakery pack of double chocolate chip cookies for a treat. He's been very good and shouldn't have to forgo sugar permanantly just for me.

His eyes widened as I took them from the shopping bag and placed them on the counter. He said "Honey." in that stern way that really meant "Honey you shouldn't have bought these they'll be gone by tomorrow morning". Six weeks ago he may have been right. But not now.

Well.

Today I found myself home alone. With the cookies. I walked into the kitchen twice. Just to look at them. I pretended to shuffle through the fridge. Then I pretended to get something from the cupboard above the counter where the cookies sat. Both ridiculous. But even more so because I was home alone. I was only pretending for me. And even I wasn't believing myself.

I tried once to get the package open but the hard plastic wasn't giving and it was making this very loud cracking sound that made my heart race for fear that someone would hear it. Again. I was alone. And delusional.

I finally got the package open, snatched up a cookie, and closed it quickly (as to not let the other cookies leap into my hand).

I stared at the cookie for what felt like hours, but I'm sure was only a fraction of a second. I brought the cookie up slowly to my nose and inhaled deeply (like I was savoring the bouquet of a nice wine). sicko.

It didn't smell as good as it looked. Thank God.

I took another deep breath. Let out a very audible groan and put the cookie back in the package. Which, by the way, opened up with ease this time.

I made my self a low carb sunday with Breyers Low Carb ice cream, whipped cream, and dry roasted sunflower seeds for a little crunch. It. Was. Heaven. In six little carbs.




Still that cookie almost got me. Almost.

In the mean time I walked/jogged (lets be honest, it was 90% walk 10% jog) 3 miles today in about 45 minutes and it felt great. Started to sprinkle a little the last mile or so which I thought would be annoying but was invigorating!

No shin splints. I feel good.

Well I feel good now.

I'll let you know in the morning ;)

Good night! Stay Skinny!

Water Water Everywhere... But Not a Drop I Drink!

I don't know what my problem with water is.

For a few days I go hard. Full force drinking my full allotment of H2O in under a days time...

Then I don't. And it feels wretched. really.
My face get's this half dry half oily mess about it.
My mouth feels like the Sahara.
My lips start to resemble sandpaper.
My pee turns the color of Budweiser.
and worst of all...
My WEIGHT LOSS HAULTS!

I kid you not. With just a few days of practical dehydration, my body has shifted from fat burning machine to... what's the opposite of that??? Fat storing camel?

Ug. I know it's bad but I just get lazy. If it's not ice cold and already at my fingertips I don't think about it. Usually this is around the time I convince myself that a new water bottle (something pretty and shiny) is just what I need to get me in the thirst quenching mood...

But as I sit here now staring at the water bottle graveyard in my cupboard...

Here Lies Rubbermaid... She was great until I lost her straw.
RIP Sig... indestructible my ass.

I am sure that the last thing I need is another one.
A glass is just fine. And if that fails I think I can round up one lone water bottle survivor. I just need to be a big girl.

In the mean time I have conquered that walk to Borders with confidence.

I feel like I'm getting stronger.

And a cousin I haven't seen in a few months seems to think I look skinnier.

So I'll take that simple win and raise you 3 lbs. That's what I hope to loose by next Monday... I have to just suck it up, the water that is, if I'm gonna do it.

Cheers to all of you further along on your weight loss journey. I raise my glass (or severely dented and misshapen aluminium water bottle) to you!

I'm going to grant my self a .3 lb credit

I've lost 10 lbs (actually 9.7 but I'm rounding up) and it feels fantastic. Just thought I'd share.

I copped out of my late night walk last night and feel the weight of guilt this afternoon so I must make up for it today.

I have a to do list a million miles long which means today I am the anti-couch potato (great superhero name). This makes for a happy girl. And a happy girl makes for a week of great weightloss. I can smell it :)

Happy Thursday folks xox

Just a few (15) points.

1. I have been slow to get moving on the exercise front lately. I spent the last 2 days perched on my computer editing things that don't need to be edited just to avoid walking.

2. My plan of inaction failed when God provided me with, not one, but two of the most beautiful days for being outdoors... complete with mild temps and cool breezes. conspiracy? I think yes.

3. I am convinced that my husband is only interested in riveting conversation when I am A. on the telephone or B. blogging.

4. I need to get some new music on my ipod.

5. I am not the proud owner of not ONE but THREEEEEE sports bras. Hooray for hygiene!

6 I found a great little side street route to walk for a change up. It passes by an elementary school with a bench in front that looked great for step up quad exercises.

7. The bench was not stable. or maybe a little too high. or both. either way my quads said no... and I listened.

8. Took my walk today with little stints of jogging thrown in there for good measure.

9. Once I got home these stints of jogging prompted a swift Google search for
"what is this pain in my side when I run"
and
"pain in my shins when I run".
It's bad news bears.

10. Also. When I run my pants fall down. Which isn't good. However its really not good when you don't wear underwear with you're exercise clothes. (don't say yuck! They make me sweat and they bunch up and fall down and they just really drive me insane)

11. By the way. If you ask me, anything that gives a girl an excuse not to wear underwear should be a fun time. Hopefully one day, in the very near (but really very far) future running will be my fun time. Next to cute kittens and HGTV, of course.

12. To rectify this bare ass in public problem I have become the proud owner of a pair of moisture wicking (for my sweating problem) very TIGHT (for the bare ass problem) running capris. Really. They're actually more like leggings. WHICH i swore I would never own. They are glorified Seran wrap. They cling to every inch of my over-sized body in a way that makes me highly uncomfortable... on a psychological level. On an actual, real, stop being a freaking baby level, they are the most comfortable wearable perfect walking jogging running pants in the entire world. But I should still only be seen in them at night.

13. I confess I avoided my multivitamin like the plague today. Back on track in the AM.

14. I've been Low carbing it for three weeks now and trying to move my ass at least once a day and... (dramatic pause)... I've lost 8.5 lbs as of Monday! Read em and weep.

15. If I can look like a sex siren in our family Thanksgiving photo this year I probably will weep. Some say, "Sandi looking like a sex siren at a family function is highly inappropriate (in a scolding grown up voice)" I say "If I'm skinny enough to fit into a bikini by next Christmas you're in for one hell of a holiday card"

Good night lovies. Here's to beauty sleep xox

Some like it hot. Not me.

Yesterday I figured I'd power walk to the Borders a few miles away. No biggie.

I have to start checking the weather channel.

91 degrees is a funny temperature... like it sneaks up on you. At first you feel ok. Then after a couple of miles you start to see colors like life has been attacked by Crayola. not. good.

I got to Borders. Alive thankfully. And made a B line for the restroom. All of those bookies stared at me as if they had never seen a fat girl with her work out clothes stuck to her body with sweat, face that looked like a tomato, with the most serious case of humid hair EVER. What. ever.

I got myself together in the bathroom and decided to read a couple of magazines and enjoy the AC before I attempted to make it home.

I texted my hubby to tell him I had walked up there. He texted me back with the always pleasant "good job babe! your hard work will pay off :)" ugh. so positive.

I almost hated to ask him to swing by and get me on his way home from work.
Almost.
But I still did.

And I rode home in AC :)

The end.

Welcome Back Welcome Back Welcome Back

(humming the Welcome Back Kotter theme song, of course)

Not really sure why it's taken me so long to update. It seems if I forget to update one day then I feel like I have to write the happenings for TWO days and I don't feel like taking the time. All of a sudden two became four and four became... well you get the point. I'm stopping this madness now before I get to far away from my promise, so here comes the update:

I have been keeping up with the low carb lifestyle pretty good. Haven't had any cravings. Haven't gone hungry at all. In fact, I am finding it hard to remember to eat. I set a calender reminder on my Blackberry to remember to eat something every 3 hours. For the first few days it really helped... then I started ignoring it.

Turns out not eating inhibits weight loss, who knew? (I did. But I still did it anyways.) So as great as I was doing the first week, focusing on eating, drinking tons of water, and ignoring my regular daily life, I found it hard to do all of those things and be a functioning member of society.

I helped my mother-in-law run some errands and do some work on a rental property. We were there seven hours and I neither ate nor drank anything the entire time. Fail.

The next day was about the same as the first and I realized that NOT EATING made me crave things I shouldn't be eating. Mainly sugar. In large, concentrated amounts. I would have sold a finger for a regular, full calorie, caffeine loaded Coke with a side of cheesecake.

Needless to day I found myself face to face with the ice cream freezer door at my local grocery store, where I almost lost it all. Thankfully, through God, because it was no will of my own, I was guided to Breyers CarbSmart Icecream and it literally saved my life at that moment. It's fantastic. Flavors are limited, but none the less I was thrilled it existed.

Around the same time discovered my ice cream savior I stumbled upon a little website with a couch to 5k plan that sounded so reasonable I thought even I could do it. After all I am walking a lot more than I used to. My 30 minute walks are about 2 miles so to stretch it to 3.1 miles seems like no biggie. The only slight problem is that I am not a runner. I am not a jogger. I am barely a walker.

It wasn't too far after this realization that I decided, against all common sense, that I COULD be a runner in 9 weeks. The website said so. Although in hinds sight they're probably talking about a couch potato who is maybe 20lbs overweight. Not a girl with almost no athletic ability, who never played a sport in her life, with the fitness level of a 95 year old, and who may or may not be 120lbs overweight.

I read the warnings. "Don't start out to fast you'll get hurt, then discouraged then not want to do anything" and I thought to myself "not me".

Day one starts out like this:

Brisk five-minute warmup walk.
Then alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking
for a total of 20 minutes.

HA! I can jog for 60 seconds! It's just 60 seconds right?

It gets much worse.

The time I should have spent stretching... I did not spend stretching.
Instead I spent an hour making a complex music mix, which composed of a 5 minute long warm up song followed by 60 seconds of a high energy song (for jogging) and then 90 seconds of a lower energy song (for walking), repeating for a total of 20 minutes, then a 5 minute cooldown. Cool right? If you're curious get it here.

So me and my unstretched muscles started out, and quickly realized that 60 seconds of jogging is longer than 60 seconds of anything else. ever.

I didn't make it 60 seconds. By my count I made it about 40.
I finished the 20 minutes though... barely. Substituting jogging segments for a walking and jogging about 10 seconds at a time.
It. Was. Miserable.
I was so hot that I got home and sat on the floor of my shower, with the water as cold as it would go for 15 minutes. After I showered I laid on the floor of my living room. Wet. Naked. On a towel. With the fan on. For about 30 more minutes.
I called my husband and admitted defeat. He kind of giggled and told me that maybe a 90 degree day wasn't the best day to start. Was it 90 degrees??? Oops.

The next day I hurt. I hurt bad. My feet. My shins. My body. I haven't been on a walk since. This is exactly what I was told would happen if I started out too fast. Shame on my pigheadedness!

Ugh.

Also, while I'm confessing. I ate cake. At a baby shower on Sunday. I didn't ask for it but it was brought to me and I "didn't want to be rude". It smelled wonderful. It looked beautiful. I had never craved it until it was in front of me. Then I devoured it. It tasted incredible at first... and then I felt sick. I'm not sure if it was a psychological thing or just a rush from the sugar/white flour that my body hasn't had in almost two weeks... either way it was a miserable feeling.

On the way home, I called my husband to confess. I heard a little disappointment in his voice... it made me even more ill. He asked me calmly why I ate it. I told him and then I heard him pause. He told me it was one piece of cake. Not to let it ruin everything for me and that it was Ok. Even though he spoke words of understanding the feeling that I had let someone down overwhelmed me...

It's kind of silly... I never felt that way when I let my self down...

This is getting a little too Dr.Phil for me so let me say that at the very moment I am wrapping up this blog post, I am also getting ready to put my walking shoes on.

I ate a great breakfast this morning.

Steak and two scrambled eggs, sautéed zucchini, and 24 oz of water.

I feel good.

Here's to looking good and blogging more often :)

xox

So far so good.

Be humble. Stay positive. That's my motto.

Here's where my Greattrainer stats are:

Yesterday
1.78 miles
34.36 minutes
3.08 mph avarage speed

Today
2.03 miles
37.43 minutes
3.23 mph

Ugh. I'm not going to lie.
Today I felt like a lump of junk.
I was super tired, sleeping in over an hour.
I was useless the entire day.
Had next to nothing appetite.
Didn't come close to eating all of my veggies.
On the positive I did drink over my 8 glasses of water
...and choked down my vitamins.
So I'm not all as bad as I claim to be.

I thought I was going to skip out on the walk today, but God was yapping in my ear so I listened and peeled my ass off the couch.

I've discovered this about myself in the last 24 hours.
1. I really enjoy walking at night.

2. I would love to be one of those bad asses who goes for a run not walk. Complete with the little shorts and all. (I wonder if their thighs rub together in those?)

3. A great playlist on my ipod and my ability to exercise are mutually inclusive.

4. I really need another sports bra.

5. And a shower.

I'm hoping I can keep a hold on my sanity through all of this. Or. If I cannot keep it, at least turn this whole part of my life into a giant game of dominoes where I just have to push myself around the corner and the rest just falls effortlessly into place.

God please hear me. and without breaking into song or having anyone lose their lunch over this, I dare say "Jesus take the wheel". Because it's going to take something Holy to keep me on track.



“Take the first step, and your mind will mobilize all its forces to your aid. But the first essential is that you begin. Once the battle is startled, all that is within and without you will come to your assistance.”
Robert Collier

P.S.
I don't know if this is the period talking, but in the greatest act of kindness ever, my fantastic husband stopped on his way home from work to get me....

wait for it...

a rotisserie chicken. delicious and carb free. I love that man <3

I heart carbs.

It's only week one and I am breaking promises. Tisk Tisk.

I think I have a viable excuse though. I think.

Here's the story...

So I have this cousin, who is a wonderful and lovable and glorious in everyway. She used to be a skinny mini softball star or something like that. Now she's a forty something mother of four who I swear has 36 hours in her day, not like the 24 of us mere mortals.

Years of taking care of everyone else and ignoring herself eventually caught up with her. She had major anxiety over her weight. Self-hating trash-talking ugliness about her weight.

I've often said I feel bad for those fat people who were, at one time skinny. They seem to be overly traumatized by their weight in ways that I, having ALWAYS been chubby, am not. It's not to say that I am "fat and happy". I'm just not haunted about it. I have nothing to compare it to.

She was my go to girl for just about everything. We clung together at family functions and made jokes at the skinny peoples expense over a plate of ham rolls.

Last year all that changed. She went and got skinny on me. Yep. My go to girl. One of them.

Since we live a good thousand miles apart and only see each other a couple times a year, the first time I saw her it hit me like a ton of bricks. WOW. She looked so great!!!! I'll admit my joy for her was slightly overshadowed by envy.

But envy is just an ugly emotion without motivation. I am sad to say I am a motivationally challenged girl.

Fast forward a year and someone's lit a fire under my ass. Now I want that. I want someone to look at me and have a wow moment.

So I'm doing it. Hopefully not so slowly, but definitely surely.

I'm willing to take dramatic measures. Like take a multivitamin. Even though I gag.

And go for a power walk EVERYDAY. Even though I only own one sports bra.

And eat healthy. Even though I have dreams about all things battered.

I spent all day Monday focusing on my food intake. Researching. Learning. (thus the lack of post) and I am ready. I'm ready to stop using excuses and just do it for Pete's sake!

Now if you'll excuse me, my sports bra is calling my name.

Let there be cake.

I'm exhausted.

Birthday party for my nephew.

pizza.
soda.
ice cream.
cake.
very yummy.

feeling very guilty.

did take a walk with Mom and her mini dog tonight though. 17 minutes not 30. huh. some is better than none.

Monday's a new day.
This weekend is carbfest <3.

Today I...

Today I...

Slept in until 9:30 which at first I felt guilty about. And then I felt too rested to feel guilty. Well that's settled

Found this verycool app for Blackberry (which I'm sure is available on every other smartphone so check an iphone/droid near you). It's called Greattrainer and I must say for a free app it's living up to its name.

So you start this bad boy up and select the type of activity you want to do. For me, "walk" for you over achievers, "run". You wait for it to find a GPS signal. Hit start. And go!

It tracks the distance, pace and time of your walk. Fantastic! I have just a few comments:

1. It has a calories burned counter, but you can't change your weight, so it's probably calculated based on a 130lb girl (which I am not) so it's not really accurate.

2. It has a handy feature which talks out loud how far you've gone in 1/2 mile incriments, but it interupts my Pandora app from playing music and I have to go into Pandora to unpause my song.

*** For those of you who are not in the know, Pandora is the most wonderful of wonderful FREE internet radio apps you can download on your smartphone. Always a new mix, you can customize stations, and there are no bratty radio hosts or male enhancement commercials to intterupt your fitness groove. You can also visit the Pandora website www.pandora.com to listen to in on your home computer <3

3. There is supposedly an internet site that works in tandem with the Greattrainer app, of which you can upload your walk info and get maps and such, but I spent 25 minutes trying to figure it out and gave up. The Blackberry app is just fine for me. I need to keep it simple.

My stats:
32.54 minutes
1.67 miles
avg speed 3.04 mph
I guess we know who's a tortoise and not a hare. But at least I got off my ass. And truthfully I feel good.

All in all quick setup, ease of use, and overall wonderfulness of Greattrainer means it gets a thumbs up from me :)

I'm going to try to fit in 30 minutes of cardiovascular activity a day because I know its good for my heart and blah blah blah.
It's just a good idea.
Lets leave it alone.
30 minutes.
Everyday.
Even if it's in three 10 minute spurts.

Today I...

Ate chinese food for breakfast. It's awful. I know. It was left over from last night's dinner and I didn't have the heart to throw it away.

But I also had...
a protien bar
a banana
some strawberries

So it's not a total loss.
Compared to what I eat on a normal day today was golden.

Today My Adventure Begins...

Well technically it started 3 days ago at midnight while I was cruising the internet, eating a muffin.

Or when I was 16 and joined Weight Watchers.

Or when I was 19 and Joined Weight Watchers again.

Or when I was 21 and signed up for a charity 60 mile walk... that I never finished.

Or this past January when some girlfriends, my husband, and myself signed up for... wait for it... Weight Watchers. The third time.

All my life I've been, as my mother puts it, "a big girl". It's something I would say I struggled with, but never let dominate me. Since it's always been who I am I've grown quite comfortable with it. You know, in that i-say-i'm-comfortable-but-really-i-wouldn't-really-mind-weighing-100-lbs-less kind of way.

I'd like to tell you that my childhood was tortured and I had no friends, but that wasn't the case. Sure, some kids poked fun, made the occasional fat joke, but all-in-all my adolescence was splendid. I was very social, popular even. Had many friends, a few really fantastic best friends. I spent my days running, biking, and climbing, like any other active kid. Got my first serious boyfriend at 15. Lost my virginity at 16. Married at 24.

I always thought I was ok looking. Didn't have any major deformities. Like every girl, I had my pretty days.

Some others thought so too. To an extent.

If I had a dollar for every time someone said...
"You have such a beautiful FACE Sandra!", "You're eyes are breathtaking, if you were a little thinner you could be so pretty!", "Have you ever thought about dieting? You are beautiful, but you would really be something if you exercised just a little."

Well if I had a dollar I would hire a personal trainer... that I would end up making friends with, who I would take to the best bakery in town and buy a slice of red velvet cake. Everyone likes red velvet cake.

I think that's part of my problem. I really, truly, most undeniably love food. I love the taste. I love the smell. And there is nothing more beautiful than food. Really. The texture, the color, the way the light dances off of the caramelized sugar on a ramekin full of crème brulée. I ask you, what could possibly be more beautiful then that?

Hopefully, me naked.

Which brings me crashing back to reality and to my objective for this blog.

I need to become more healthy. For obvious reasons, as well as some that I'm sure I will get into later on down this blog.

Also... I'm not going to lie... I would like to be hot. Smokin' hot. For very selfish reasons yes, but also for my loving, wonderful, and forever patient husband. He deserves a hot wife.

So please join me. Here. Every freaking day. To hold me accountable. Comment. Excessively even. I need it.

In return I, Sandra "not so skinny girl" Bridges promise to tell you everything. All of the embarrassing things I try. All of the yummy, and not so yummy, things I choke back. Every cheat, every win. Everything. Everyday.

Lets assess in one year. I have a hard time with goals so I'm going to think outside the box on this one and set periodic checkpoints.

The first being in 6 weeks... which would be September 3rd for those without a calender. I've taken beginning measurements and well as a beginning weight. Both of which horrify me.

So here is what we're going to do. Since I'm not quite ready to let those numbers out in public, I will post current, as well as starting numbers at my six week checkpoint. Rain or shine. Hell or high water. Even if I fall off the weight loss wagon into a pool of cheesecake filling and wind up fatter than before I began. I promise.

Here's to smaller jeans!

xox

Sandi





P.S. Please don't be afraid of the word fat. I am not. People seem to gasp and grab ahold of their children's ears when they hear the word. F-A-T. Fat. Fatty. Say it. It's good for you.