Calf Pump

Finally! Summer has arrived in Seattle. It took so dang long to get here - and today is a glorious nearly 90 degrees. Too hot? Well perhaps, but we can't complain around here or we get buckets of rain like we did last weekend. My work out buddy and I did our Urban Work Out on Tuesday. Hefted up the hills, in which we had to instill the no talking rule because it was hard! A 40 minute circuit, including window shopping, it was lovely. Yesterday was warm, and my friend was working late, so I came home and walked the dog. The Ding's idea of a 47 minute walk involves 8 minutes of walking and 39 of sniffing, so I get a not so challenging work out. So I came home and checked out the fitness video options that are available with our cable package.

The Girls Next Door offer work outs - who knew? Although I am certain that these are viewed not for their instructional nature, but for private time with the remote, if you know what I mean.

I settled on the "Ultimate Fat Burning Workout" for here I was sure to see a legitimate exercise video. The video was done in a classic 80's-style aerobics video. One instructor, 4 girls behind her in color-coordinated outfits. Trying to do anything in time to a video is not easy for me and it brings back memories of playing Pole Position. Careening around the race track, crashing, starting up again and feeling confused. My experience was much the same. This video is improved in that the instructor gal at least announces the next move before showing it to you. Although I still found myself fumbling and saying "Calf-pump - what?" from time to time. So we're sweating and pumping and burning our fat. And here's the But. At one point when the instructor is reaching her hand weight over her head to reach to the other side, the camera zooms in on her side - positioning right between her sports bra and boy-short bottoms. For a long time. You can't even see the whole hand weight 80% of the time. Come on! How am I supposed to follow along if all I'm looking at are her perfect abs? So ridiculous. But, I finished, and then got up at 5:45 this morning and did it all over again, because I rock. And despite the glorification of her abs, I picked up some good moves to take back to the Y when it opens again on Monday. Wahoo!

In the feeling good department - the new receptionist told me today that I have awesome calves. I was like "Do you need to borrow money or something?" And she said that it was true, I walked by her desk in my skirt today and she noticed them. I didn't even think my calves rocked. I don't even really notice them. Surprising compliments are the best.

I can, and I do, and I will

I have reached a point where people in my office are starting to notice my weight loss. Folks that I haven't shared anything about it with them on a personal level. It seems a sticky wicket to ask someone about weight loss. Especially in my conservative office, but it is nice to know that people can tell a difference. Most of them are encouraging, although one woman said to me "You're like a normal sized girl, now." Hmm. I suppose that is a compliment, and I do want to be a healthy weight and a smaller size, but normal felt weird. (although I do confess to have referred to the under 14 section of a department store as the normal section.)

The most common question I get is "What are you eating?" and that comes from people who want to lose weight. (Healthy weight people will ask "What are you doing?") I think most people want to hear "Oh, just lemons and wheat grass, every day. And a little eye of newt if I'm feeling really decadent." and then they can say "Oh, well, I couldn't do that." and further feel as though weight loss is futile, a mysterious goal they can never achieve. So when I reveal that I am eating less, exercising more, and bonding with an online community for support, they sort of look disappointed. There's the part of them that was also hoping that I would reveal a new drug or that I merely eat a half a grapefruit before every meal. I know because I have been that person.

I have watched other people in my life lose weight, and there is a feeling of no longer being part of the same team. My best friend through grade school was always overweight with me. We were two peas in a pod, and then she lost her weight in junior high. I was so envious, because she kept it off, and has kept it off til this day. I felt insecure then that maybe she could no longer really be my friend. Or that she might be ashamed of being seen with me. None of that ever came true, of course. I've also spent my entire life being overweight and thinking about losing weight. I know it must be different for people who put on weight later in life. They don't understand why their body is betraying them like this. I have had a completely different experience. My weight is my shadow, literally. It has always been here, and has always been at the back of my mind. The one item on my to-do list that I couldn't cross off. To now become the woman who exercises on vacation, who is tracking calories and who has lost 60 pounds, and is determined to lose 80 more, is beyond significant for me.

So now that I am having snack issues again, and the scale is moving up, and the stress in my life keeps piling up, I feel I'm backsliding. I had been losing an average of 3-5 pounds a month pretty consistently, but now, not so much. I find myself feeling wistful as I did years ago - wondering if the "thin life" was ever really going to happen for me, or just a pipe dream. What if I never see a number under 200? I truly do feel like I have come too far to give up, and that new my reduced fat, increased exercise lifestyle is good for me, is improving my heart, lung, bone and mental health, and that is very important too. It's more important than the number on the scale, but I can't help but crave that tangible reward. This makes it all the more easy for me to identify with my overweight coworkers. I know that feeling of doom, that it just isn't possible to lose weight without feeling deprived, and that no matter what I do, nothing will change. The truth is that undoing a lifetime of bad habits is hard. And that's what I'm doing. Saying no to a second portion, choosing to exercise rather than collapse in front of the television, convincing myself to walk away from the bagels, counting every stupid calorie that goes down, all of it is hard work. And it will lead to a healthier lifestyle, a longer life, a smaller size, a boost in confidence, and a body that is strong and powerful.

I'm still guilty of wanting a quick fix, of feeling so impatient with my progress or lack thereof. So this post is to help me remember that I've come a long way, and it wasn't easy getting here, and so I shouldn't expect it to get easier now. But there's no way I'm going back to 290. Never. So there.

twenty-nine and five

Who's the worst blogger? Oh, I think it's me. I talked up my dress and then never showed anyone nuthin. I had the most wonderful birthday week. It was last Monday the 31st, and I've just had a nutty week ever since.

For my party, I made a reservation at a local pizza place because a) who doesn't like pizza? and b) it is affordable, and c) I don't have to do the dishes. Its a very casual place, but I was all dolled up. I started to feel insecure about it. Really irrational thoughts. What if all of my loving and caring friends walk in and see me trying to look pretty and they scoff and say well who the hell does she think she is? This is a jeans kind of night. So I decided to kick that doubt to curb, and my husband helped talk me down. Because if I'm turning 34, and I've worked very hard to lose 66 pounds, I have a right to wear a nice dress and snappy shoes on my birthday - even if the chances are high that I'll spill marinara all over them.

So without further ado...

I love, love, love that dress more than I can tell you. My hips aren't that narrow, they just appear to be, as my friend Spanx helped me out that night.

And look, my shoes match my red eyes!

I love these shoes! Ever the gracious hostess, I met every guest with a hug and then I would squeal "Look at my shoes!" It is interesting how I was nervous about calling attention to myself. I wanted to look hot, I wanted to feel pretty, and I did, but weird how even though I was walking into a room of love, I started having those second-guessing thoughts, as though I didn't deserve to look that way. Maybe it was just because I was at a casual place? Dunno, but my doubts were washed away soon enough. And I realize that posting these photos may be screaming "Compliment me!" "Tell me I look pretty!" - and you don't have to. I am proud of my losses so far, and I am proud of how I looked that night, and that's enough. You may however, compliment the shoes, because they are shiny patent leather and sassy!

I do regret that I drank a gluttonous amount of wine. For calorie sake, and for coherence sake. I woke up with a headache the next day. But I didn't embarrass myself (or so I've been told). However, I don't regret eating the birthday cake that one of my friends made me. Chocolate, with a dark chocolate and cognac buttercream. To. Die. For. It was so delicious!

On Sunday, my Mom took Mr. Black and I to the Glass Museum where we got to watch glass blowers in action - very cool. Then we had a fabulous meal at an Argentinian steak place. It was heavenly. The week prior to my birthday, my consultants wanted me to work on the weekend. Both days. I told them that Sunday was out of the question, and if they wanted me Saturday, I would be there in hot rollers, and fairly surly. I begged a co-worker of mine to fill in and she did. Phew! I had wanted to take the afternoon off on Monday, but we had major deadlines so I couldn't. I had joked that I wanted a parade if I was working on my birthday. (Yes, I am obnoxious about my birthday - it is my favorite day of the year) And then I felt like a jerk when one of my consultants brought in a balloon bouquet and hats and noisemakers, and arranged my team to parade past my desk. Oh, it was hilarious to see my nerdy math people being silly and so kind to me. I then felt terrible about complaining about working. Suffice it to say, I was spoiled rotten on Monday. I am a lucky, lucky girl. That evening I had dinner at a famed french restaurant, that was part of a promotion serving 3 courses for $30. And we ordered a separate starter, pomme frites a la canard - that's potatoes fried in duck fat, and served with aioli. It was fantastic, and worth every ounce I gained this week. I finished with my favorite dessert, creme brulee.

I came, I saw, I ate. I missed the HYC check in due to some other conflicts. And I haven't been commenting on other blogs as much as I would like to. Don't give up on me yet! I'm still in this thing. This week I'm having tabbouleh, pan-seared falafel and green salad for lunch this week. No more duck fat for me. That's what this whole lifestyle thing is about, yes? You indulge one evening, (or 5) and then you get back on the plan, man. That's all we can do.

Who, me?

File under delighted. Today I was wearing my sassy new grey and white pin-striped jumper complete with white button down shirt, and black Maryjane shoes, feeling good and reveling in the smaller size. I purchased it on last weekend's shopping expedition, even though I had only gone in for pants. And first thing this morning, a guy in my office, that I sit near, but don't work with, sees me and says "You look stunning today. Just stunning." I was, well, stunned. And flattered and delighted and tickled. Usually only Mr. Black and closest girlfriends use such high praise with me, so it was exciting to hear something so kind from someone who doesn't love me. And, I think my new friend Mr. Gunn might of agreed.