Project Fitness Update

So here we are, another Monday.  Oh man, this is painful.  So you know, we were at the ER on Thursday night into Friday.  And it's so interesting how I deal with stress, which is by eating.  I've noticed it so much this week.  I have a stupid fight with J, and I run out to the kitchen and grab a handful of malted milk balls to calm my nerves.  On Thursday night, I had a screaming baby on my lap for hours - I wasn't about to let her crawl around in the ER with all the who-knows-what on the floor.  So I just held her on my lap while she flailed and screamed.  And she sat in her stroller sometimes, and I'd walk with her.  But mostly it was her on my lap, flailing.  Until she finally started to pass out.  So guess what I did?  I hit the snack machine.  Grape soda.  Orange soda.  Diet coke.  A giant pack of vanilla cookies.  Chocolate.  You name it, I guzzled it.

I didn't choose to meditate and channel my inner silence.  No, I inhaled sugar.

This is not particularly healthy.

Even worse, I justified it because I did spend a ton of time walking her in her stroller in circles.  So I was like, "well, I'm walking her around for hours, that must be burning some calories, no?"  Uh, no.  Not that many.  

I've also gotten out of the habit of using the loseit app, which I started rectifying today.  I'd also been sliding on my meditation (mostly because I noticed that whenever I would meditate, I would start thinking hateful thoughts about my asshole neighbor, but that's a different story).  Which doesn't seem to be the point of meditation.  So I meditated today and pushed past that and started thinking no thoughts at all.  For about 6 seconds.

So that's where we are.  Stopped by stress eating.

New week this week.

Getting Fit Project Update

It's Tuesday, which in my new Fitness Project is Goal Day.  That means it's weigh-in day (though I weigh myself every day anyway), and if I make my goal, I get a reward (this week it's a loooong backrub from my hubby).  Every other week I take my measurements - I don't expect to see a lot of change in just 14 days, but it keeps it present for me, otherwise it would just slip away into the dark recesses of my brain where random Monty Python quotes and facts about the French Revolution are collecting dust.

So, the results are in.  I lost another 2.2 pounds this week, bringing the total to just about 4.5 pounds in 2 weeks.  I lost half an inch from my waist and hips, each.

On Saturday, I had a long heart-to-heart with hubby about food, and it was so clear how similar the addictions to food and alcohol are.  One example is my utter conviction that any occasion is more special if you have food.  For him it was alcohol.  I mean, if you're going to do something nice, why not do it with food, right?  When we go to England, I have a whole list of food I need to eat, otherwise I feel like I'm really missing out on something.  I need to get Muller rice (I love that stuff).  I need to eat chocolate mini-rolls from Marks and Spencer (I also love them).  I absolutely have to drink at least two Cafe Nero hot chocolates a day.  I mean, what's the point of wandering around Soho if you're not doing it with a hot chocolate in your hand, right?  I can't imagine going to England and NOT eating Cadbury chocolate, or those Belgian waffle things that they sell in little individual packs in the grocery store.  It's almost like there'd be no point.

But that's just ridiculous.  The point of England is Evensong services, and train rides, and walks by the Cam, and wandering around in Bath, and getting lost in Whitby.  The point of England is most definitely NOT chocolate mini-rolls from Marks and Spencer.  I can see having one or two things that are your special foods that you look forward to when you travel somewhere.  J loves the 7-up in England because it's not as sugary as here.  To me, that seems normal.  If I only had the mini-rolls, that would be ok.  Or just the Cafe Nero hot chocolates.  That would be understandable.

The problem is when everything revolves around food.  I plan where I'm going to eat, what I'm going to eat, what I'll drink with what I eat, how I feel when I'm eating it.... which kind of talks and walks like an addiction.

So I guess I'll check out Overeaters Anonymous.  I really don't want to.  I went a few years ago - well, eight years ago - and I had a really bad attitude because everyone there seemed like they were fat and ate too much and had problems, and I sat there all holier than thou, thinking I was different.  Who am I kidding...I still think I'm different.  But one thing that J taught me is that all the alcoholics think that they're different, too.  He's convinced that he's the one person who can handle alcohol, and everybody else has a problem.  But he sees that everyone thinks that - the more you think you're different, the more the same you are.

The other thing I'm learning is how to take things one day at a time.  Not even one day - one minute.  If I'm not pigging out in this moment, then that's a good thing.  I don't have to worry about how to get to 40 pounds, or 50 pounds or 70 pounds.  I don't have to worry about how I'm going to go on a cruise and not completely lose all this progress I've made (the answer is, I'm taking my scale with me...hey maybe I'll weigh less at sea...who knows).  I just have to worry about this moment, right now.  And then this next moment.  And so on.  Eventually you get to where you need to be, one moment at a time, right?

I had my follow-up appointment after the D&C today.  I love my doctor.  I just love him.  I wish I had a little miniature version of him that we could keep around the house, telling me random stories about when he bought his first CD player in the mid 1980's, and only had three CD's for it.  He was at a meeting about high risk pregnancies during the time I was miscarrying three weeks ago, and he said he'd been thinking about me when they were talking about treatments for inflammations, and thinking about what he would do with me when we got to the point where I lost Baby T.  Then he comes back, and finds out that I, as he put it, "got into trouble."  But he's super-excited for me to try again because of all these new treatments he's learning about.  I'm now Dr. J's guinea pig, I guess.

Anyway, I told him that we're on a full-scale assault against fat, and we talked about my plan of attack.  He was totally supportive, but wanted to make sure I wasn't doing some crazy crash diet, and I assured him that I was trying to eat 1600-1800 calories a day.  And he said words that will be forever etched in my brain as a defense against the BMI calculators and height-weight charts I used to study when I was a kid.  He said, "I think more like 1800 calories a day for you.  You're not short.  And you have a big frame with a lot of muscle.  We'll lose the padding around the frame, but that frame's not going anywhere."

Praise the Lord, and Big-Boned Girls Unite!!! 

Lessons in humility

I've had two things happen that are teaching me to be humble this week. First, I found out I need surgery on my ankle, and I'm going to be in a cast up to my knee for 8 weeks, starting July 2. So there goes my relaxing summer by the lake, right? I'm actually quite freaked out about it - no walking or putting any weight on it for 8 weeks. That royally sucks, especially because there are like 30 steps from our driveway to our doorway, and they're not all nice and easy, either. Our house is built into a hill, so they're uneven, stone, etc. I guess I'll have to scoot down on my butt if I want to go anywhere, even if hubby drives me. That's all I can think. And I'm lucky in that our bathtub is against the wall on the right side, and the surgery is going to be on my left ankle, so I'll still be able to take a bath with my leg hanging out the edge of the tub. But they're cutting a huge amount out to get good tendons to replace the bad ones. So I'll have a big scar, and the idea of it is just really gross. And the whole thing just has me really scared.

But here's what I realized... there are people who don't have mobility all the time. I'm being all dramatic because I'm losing my mobility for 8 weeks. There are people who will never be mobile again in their lives. There are people who lost legs in Iraq. And arms in Afghanistan. And just have diseases that keep them from being able to walk around whenever they want.

I feel like it's my duty to take care of this body, which largely works, in honor of the people who don't have bodies that work 100% like mine does. So that's Humbling Incident Number One.

The second one is that I got busted using Wikipedia on my Renaissance English History Podcast. I say "busted" like I was trying to get away with something, and that wasn't the case - I'm just super-embarrassed because I know better than that. Soooo.... that's humbling incident number 2. Lesson learned. No more wikipedia without fact-checking.

The other thing is that I'm engrossed in Agincourt: A Novel about the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. I've never ready anything by Bernard Cornwell before, but I'm definitely going to become a fan. It is just all-consuming. I find myself sneaking a sentence at a red light. Not very safe! But happy to find a new author I love.

Entertainment Crisis Part 2

I'm very happy that some of my friends have recognized my Entertainment Crisis and are coming to my aid. I'm totally digging on Vampire Weekend, She and Him, and Martha Wainwright.

Also absolutely loved The Darjeerling Limited, which is playing on HBO now. Not only does it feature a kooky story, but the Indian scenery, and the train rides are amazing. I really want to go to India before I have a kid.

--
In other news, I've had a cough since shoveling snow two weeks ago. It's not really bad, but it's there. The point is, I make fun kinds of hacking noises, which is totally hot. I know how to bring the heat, let me tell you.

But I've been working out and have happily lost two pounds. Yay for me.

And I'm trying to set up singing lessons and get a choir started. Also yay for me.

The shame of liking Britney Spears

I'm listening to the new Britney Spears album on Rhapsody, and I am so ashamed - I love it. It makes me want to go out clubbing. Ok, so it's not Beethoven. But that Britney sure has some staying power.

I threw my back out this weekend. I think. I've never had a backache before. I always wondered what the big deal was when people talked about backaches. Like the Sex and the City episode where Miranda is lying on the bathroom floor and Aiden goes to rescue her. I remember thinking "what can be that bad??" and now I know. I don't know what I did to do it, but I now have a new appreciation for my back, and need to figure out some good back exercises because not being able to get up from laying on the floor with the cats SUCKED.

And I hit over 50,000 words in my novel, so I'm a NaNoWriMo winner. Go me!

So what's the deal with chin hair?

Who thought it would be a good idea for women close to thirty (and slightly over, in my case) to get chin hair? Is this a joke?

I first noticed chin hair when I was 27 and at a hotel with a ginormous magnifying mirror on an extending arm in the bathroom. I noticed three big old witchy hairs and suddenly started panicking and checking for moles and age spots.

Fortunately I have a chubby face, so don't have wrinkles yet, but these chin hairs have just got to go. Once evert three months or so, one just appears. I swear, it doesn't grow in like a normal hair - it's just born 3 inches long.

This sucks.