New Me: Week 6 - Ok, I will commit, for reals

I lost 1 pound this week. So, that takes me back to where I was at week 4. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Sitting stagnant at minus 5 pounds.


Honestly, I am surprised that I lost anything at all. I give all the credit to the hour long jog I took on Tuesday. That made Wednesday's weigh-in bearable. At the bachelorette this weekend, I ate like total carp, then ate late-night pizza both nights, and topped it all off with Mexican food on Sunday.


Yesterday at the gym, sis-in-law talked to me throughout my entire 45 minute cardio workout, which is one of the nicest things anyone can do for a friend. While I was on the cybex arc trainer, one of my favorite machines at Lifetime, she asked what it would take for me to commit to the food part of this "new me." I said that I am not good at holding myself accountable. Then, as my very tired mind raced while trying to fall asleep at 8 o'clock last night, I remembered! I wrote that I would wear a bikini on this site in a month! Holy Mackerel...what was I thinking?!


After freaking out for a period of time, I decided that I am still game, though I am going to switch it up some. If one month from now (June 2nd), I have lost an additional 7 pounds (bringing total weight loss to 12 lbs), I will not have to wear the suit on the Web until July 2nd. If I do not lose an additional 7 pounds, on the blog June 2nd it is.


There are many reasons why I think this is fair, the least of which is that when I decided to set this goal for myself, I had no idea I was going to go on doctor's orders not to exercise for two months. So there. Fair and square.


I know y'all are dying to see me in a bikini, but your retinas will thank you for the extra month later on. Now that I am terrified, I am feeling rededicated to my weight loss and sticking with the jogging. Tomorrow is a full hour of jog/walk. Looking forward to it.


UPDATE TO AN EARLIER POST:

I should have gone and gotten a stitch or two on my thumb (Amy #1). It is officially disgusting and painful. I think it's been almost a month since I sliced it on the mandolin and three weeks since I opened it back up with a confetti egg. It looks like chewed up gum, which you know I love. In fact, it is so nasty that Crystal asked me if she could get staph from it. No, I don't have staph, I clean and dress this gaping slit on my hand several times a day, but that is how nasty it looks. Effing Pampered Chef.

Running

The "running" I mentioned below has become a bit of an obsession. Big Sis told me that I should be running 5 minutes on and 1 minute off, in order to build endurance. Today I did this for a full hour, including five minute warm ups and cool downs. All together, I moved just over four miles. This on/off, run/walk is so much easier than running for 30 minutes straight, which it how long it took me to go 2.5 miles last Friday.

Anyone have beginning running tips?


I have one: if you are my size or larger and your thighs rub together when you run, wear pants or use Anti-Monkey Butt. I am not kidding, though I wish I was. What's Anti-Monkey Butt you ask? I think it's just fancy talc powder. My Mom gave it to KP as a joke for Christmas, or was that Santa? Anyway, it does the trick. I know, can you believe I am sharing all of this with strangers? Ha.

My favorite thing about this powder is the image on the bottle:

Hopefully with this new hobby, my thighs will be significantly smaller and will no longer cause fire inducing friction. Or conjure up images of a swollen monkey's behind. A girl can dream.

I know you're dying for my real estate updates, but the old saying, "don't count your chickens before they hatch," keeps popping into my mind. And on that note, I'll wait until I am a little closer to closing.

New Me: Week 5 - It was Bound to Happen

Bad news first: I gained a pound. One measly pound is haunting me on the scale. Oh freaking well...and here's why:

Disclaimer: this may make you uncomfortable if you are of the male type. If you have a wife or a long-term girlfriend who shares with you, then you will probably be okay, but if you are single, this is going to be way too much information.

I started my period! It's only technically been since December 2008. No joke. I am bloated and crabby, and as pimply as a teenage boy in the summertime in Houston. My uterus screamed to claw its way down and out of my body for days. My pants were tighter than usual (like that clarification?) and I just kept waiting. Yesterday when I discovered the good news, I sent an email to a few friends I recently discussed the never-ending wait for womanhood with. (Subject: I started. Body of email: .) Hip, Hip Hooray.

Now, I know many ladies right now that are wondering why on Earth I would want a visit from an old friend that would make me so uncomfortable and unstable. Well, it's a sign that my body does not hate me anymore. So, I'll take it. (ask me on Saturday if I am still enjoying this though.)

Another reason I gained a pound is that I was a terrible Weight Watchers Member. On that note, I so wish WW had a motto and hand symbol like in Girl Scouts. If only every time I was about to raise a bite of mac and cheese to my mouth, another member could just flash the sign and remind me of my loyalties (and financial obligation to pay for the service). Until then, I will have to make a more concerted effort to do well. Here's where I go wrong: Once I know I have blown the points, I stop counting. That's when I need to count the most. Any suggestions for staying on track?

My exercising is going great though. I jogged 2 miles yesterday! I started jogging just last week and pushed myself farther and farther. Each day I have to have a goal. Yesterday, I set it at 1.5 miles and then just kept going. If you would like a visual: When I "jog," I set the treadmill at 4.6, which forces me to move my legs just faster than a walk. After a few minutes, my face is red and my body is dripping in sweat, even on the tops of my hands--gross. My shorts stick to my legs and I mouth the words to the hip hop playlist I made just for my new exercise routine. I look nice, but I keep on trekking. 2 miles!

My commitment this week: I will continue exercising 3-4 times a week. I will track my food, even if I go over. I am a little concerned with tracking my drinks this weekend, as I am attending a bachelorette party, but I will do my best. Hopefully I will see some downward movement then.

I've got some real estate updates; I'll share in a couple of days. Off to work.

What's wrong with this picture?

It was the only stamp I had. I DO NOT heart the IRS. I DO NOT heart it even more now that I am self-employed. That said, I pay my taxes, on time, several times a year.

New Me: Week 4, I'll Take It

Pounds Lost = 0.5. I will take it! I gorged on Easter Sunday. Honestly, I had no choice. Big Sis made mac and cheese from scratch; guests brought five or six types of desserts including carrot cake, strawberry shortcake, lemon bars, chocolate cake, and chocolate; and the Easter Bunny also delivered some delicious treats. I tried to avoid the consumption that morning, but by lunch my defences were weak and I gave in. So, I'll take that 1/2 pound, gladly.

I promise to do better this week. So far I have lost 5 lbs. I want to see 10 lbs by the end of April. Attainable? I sure hope so. I do have a bachelorette party with the BDC in a couple of weeks. Better start earning some activity points now!

Here's a self-pic today. While I still look large and in charge, this shirt was not wearable just three weeks ago. It was so tight you could see a beauty mark impression through the shirt. Ugh. Today I can wear it. Baby steps.

This is How We Do It: Easter

Welcome to Easter, celebrated by our family.

The Children, taking a break from the extensive egg hunt for a pic. Miss Till joined in on the action.

Midge, aka Big Sis, made herself some Harry Potter goggles.

Little Sis, aka Sue, got a new 'do.

Below chronicles a tradition that our family has been practicing for years. We took a break for a while, but my Mom and V found a site online that sells and ships confetti eggs. So, they ordered 30 dozen, yep, 30 dozen confetti eggs! This company must have treated the eggs with some sort of coting to make the shells stronger because a few of us walked away with battle wounds, but it sure was fun! Next year, the A Team might have to represent with a uniform.

Pac Man, aka KP, and Mr. Pac Man getting into the fight.

Sharon, MiMi (my Mom), Mrs. PacMan, and the neighbor get bombarded by Lukers!Ade, me, Midge all run away from Lukers.

They are ganging up on me!

"No, i am not getting you back for all of those years of torture!" (I did make it my goal to stuff a confetti egg down each of my sisters' pants.)

Lukers attacking his Dad!

Buddy, my Dad, getting hit by Sue. Happy Birthday Buddy!

New Me: Week 3 - Some Lessons are Hard Learned

The most important part first: I lost 1.5 pounds this past week. But, only if you go by my home scale this morning, while in PJs. When I got to the gym, I weighed exactly the same as last week, but I am not counting that. I will now go by my scale. I know I am shooting myself in the foot here because I will have to lose according to the lowest weight now, but I need to see movement, dammit.

Speaking, or writing, of scales, I bought my first scale ever last week. Maybe, just maybe, this is why I fluctuate so much. I don't ever see numbers to not exceed. Think about it...don't you have a low point you let your checking account get to before you are cautious about spending? I need a high point. Well, first I need a low point, and then I'll set a high weight to not be exceeded on the new scale. I purchased the scale from Target last week for $7.99 because I have married a Polish man and have adopted some Polish ways. Didn't know Poles are cheap? Neither did I, but KP insists it's true and I need to be cheap, so this frugality-per-nationality-by-marriage is a good excuse. But, being cheap is not always smart, especially when it comes to measuring fat lost.

The scale was not digital and the window was about the size of half of my palm. I am not tall, but did quit wearing corrective lenses years ago. I could not read those tiny little tick marks for the life of me. When every pound counts, this is no bueno. I took it back and invested an additional $19 on a digital read-out scale. So much better. The only thing I can complain about is that it measures in half pounds, not tenths of a pound like the gym scale. Oh well, I am too married-to-a-Pole to give a damn.

The hardest lesson to learn this past week is that beer is a no-no. Period. I attended the Independence Brewery brewery tour and crawfish party on Saturday. They served full-bodied brewskies which were delicious to the point of sin. Then, because I do not consume mud bugs unless they are peeled for me and arrive on my table in the form of etouffee, I desperately needed food after we left. That food was ordered as sliders and another barley pop, as KP calls it. If I was a person with self-control, I could have a beer every now and again, but I am not, as demonstrated by my thighs.

I have spent the rest of the week working my tail off to lose the beer calories. The hard work paid off, but I wouldn't have had to try so hard if I wouldn't have indulged to the point that would make a younger, less drink-experienced me have alcohol poisoning. Ok, I am exaggerating, but still.

What am I going to do this weekend? The Easter Bunny doesn't lay eggs of Kashi cereal bars and sugar-free Jello, does he?

And because you readers crave pictures and probably will not read the above post, below are pics of the pugs. Mac and Zeus were groomed yesterday. They have lion cuts to keep down on the amount of pug babies that live in the dark corners of my house. Gus is just cute.

Quote O' the Day

"I can't think of anything funny to write. Dammit, I like to be interesting."
--KP

Dear Pampered Chef,

I am writing to you today to explain why I will no longer feel like a whole person.

Several years ago, a former employer, who also became a friend, invited me to a Pampered Chef party she was hosting. I obliged, mainly because I wanted to see my friend. I chose not to go alone as rooms of housewives intimidate me in ways you can only imagine. My good friend, Amy #1 kindly agreed to come with me. Before the party, we met for a drink and she coached me on what was going to happen: cooking demo, pass around some gadgets, have some snacks, everyone chit chat about what they love about Pampered Chef, play some games to win a melon baller or similar small kitchen item, and then the Zinger. The Zinger is the most dreaded part of the whole party. The sales associate does two things in one fell swoop; she asks you to host a party and tries to get you to join the company. All I want are some wooden spoons, for Pete's sake. I am not looking for a job or to con my friends into spending their hard earned cash on things that are trying to kill them. Oh yes, I will get to that part.

For years after the party, the sales associate sent me poorly crafted emails that switched text color every sentence. They were not only offensive to my brain and pocketbook, but also to my eyes. After repeatedly requesting to be removed from her distribution list, I finally had to block her email address!

I will say that in the years since the party, I have enjoyed my bamboo spoons, soap pump, and occasionally the mandolin. I used the mandolin to slice perfectly uniform fries. That's about it. As you probably know, the mandolin has an attachment that the user is supposed to attach to the potato or whatever is being sliced, to protect fingers from the very sharp blades. But, this attachment seems to have a design flaw, in that it cannot hold anything. Ok, maybe 1/4 of a cucumber, but certainly not part of a potato or tomato. So, I have repeatedly chosen to put my fingers in danger for the sake of perfect baked fries.

Up until last night, the Pac House injuries from the mandolin have included one sliced finger and a missing finger nail for me and my husband cut into his index finger as well. The cake was taken by last night's injury though. As I was slicing a sweet potato, my sis-in-law commented that she was just waiting for an accident, as the slicing process was looking a little laborious. Just then, my thumb slipped and was sliced by the gleaming blade. One choice four-letter word exited my mouth as I took stock of the mandolin's work.

My thumb was sliced to the bone or something white/grayish that I perceived as the bone.

In honor of the blood I lost last night and possible dexterity loss, I threw the Pampered Chef mandolin in the trash. Please understand why I had to sacrifice the mandolin for the pain, anguish, and loss that it has caused me. Please warn all of your sales consultants to keep my name and email addresses off of their guest lists. I will not have pleasant stories to share at their parties.

Best regards,
ADP

Oh, What a Beautiful Day

Today, is one of those days in the ATX that reminds me, just in case I forgot, why I live here. My travels, or errands as some might call some of them, took me to lunch with great friends and one squishy baby girl, out to 360 and across the Pennybacker Bridge, up Mopac, which has some small fields of bluebonnets, to a gorgeous garden center on S. 1st, and back to my home. KP and i have worked on our gardens year after year, which allows us to now enjoy their beauty, with a little less work. Here are some shots our gardens this afternoon.

New Me Update: Week 2 - It's Working!

It's working, it's working, it's actually working!

I have lost 3.1 pounds in the last week and a half! I weigh for WW on Wednesdays at the gym, so this will be my new update day. I am trying to change my Wednesday luck, so why not? Plus, weigning on Wednesday gives me two days after the weekend to get it together, but not so much time after the weekend that I choose to over-do the consumption.

Honestly, I prepared myself for disappointment today. Last weekend I had a lot of fun. When it comes to weight loss discussions, fun can be interpreted as wine, beer, pizza, a kolache, a girl scout cookie, and throwing caution to the wind when it came to salad dressing. Luckily, the rest of the decisions I made were enough to keep those poor choices from heavily impacting my goals. Did you know that one single ranchero kolache from The Kolache Factory is 9 points? Me neither. That ate up nearly half of my 21 point daily allowance on Sunday.

My successes this past week included tracking every single thing I ate for the entire week. I also made it to the gym for the first time in months. I have been walking with Val around the neighborhood too.

I am feeling very hopeful. You know, that the bikini picture I post in June isn't scary.