My goal is to lose 50 pounds by February 24, 2012.
Which will be my . . . thirty . . . . uh . . . next birthday.
3500 calories to a pound. 50 pounds. 175000 calories to burn.
I bought new gym shorts (XL), shirt (mens L) and shoes.
I got on the scale at 188.4 today.
I bought broccoli and vitamin C.
I made a smoothie.
I went to the gym for the first time since . . . November?
I went .9 miles on the elliptical for 115 calories.
174,885 calories to go.
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Exercise – Elliptical, Bike, a touch of abs but they were sore from yesterday, so I did a little arm work with a piddly sadly felt kinda heavy 8 pound weight that was sitting on the floor.
Calories burned – 500+
Weight – 185.1
Movie – Yes Man – I would watch it at the gym, unsure I’d pay to rent it. Better than the Guthy Renker informercial.
Photos to chart my progress – You be glad I photo shopped these so you can tell my current round shape without totally craving some Pillsbury products.
It was a moral victory that I got those things buttoned . . . till I turned to the sideview, THAT shit humbled me right up.
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Exercise – Elliptical, Bike, Ab work (no machines, just on the floor)
Calories burned – 500+
Weight – 183
Tech – I tried out the earbud headphones @jenbshaw recommended – The pads were nice, but they still forced themselves out of my ears – both the small and the medium size. I pulled off the padding and used them without and they worked super well. So a win in the end. I probably should have looked for something that said “child” that would fit my freakishly small ear canal.
Song – “Hot N Cold” by Katy Perry
The music thing is critical for me – there is this crisis point I hit between calories 250 and 400 where I hurt and want to quit and it sucks and I hate it. But. If I can push through that – somewhere around 400 I am suddenly having . . . fun . . . yeah, FUN. I feel like a badass, I run faster, the music that helped me through the hard part is now helping me fly. I um. Okay fine, I fucking smiled on the elliptical today when I hit 500. And then I went a little farther.
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Exercise – I tried out the “Women’s Lounge” elliptical but couldn’t handle the Hoda and KLG action – so I moved to the Theatre where I could at least have HOPE of a movie. Didn’t happen. Sad panda.
Calories burned – 500+
Movie – See above. Sadly none. There WAS some opera singer who shrieked her soprano parts. Shudder.
Song – “Extraordinary” by Liz Phair – cuz I am mutha fuckin extraordinary for kicking my own ass like this.
Y’know who else is extraordinary? Jenbshaw – when I tweeted about my sucky earphones she hooked me up with a suggestion – one trip to big box store later and I think my ears will thank me tomorrow.
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Exercise – elliptical oh dear deity and then cool down collapse on and hope my heart rate returns to normal on the recumbent bike
Calories burned – 500+
Movie – 2012 - Mostly I was grateful they came in and turned off the 4th hour of the Today Show turned into Infomercial. I had no clue what the movie was (took at least 15 minutes for them to flash the title) but when I saw sunspots, I texted Victoria and said, “I dunno what this is, but I bet ‘destroy the Earth’ will be a line in here at least once.” It was aight – I was way more excited about it when John Cusack hit the screen.
Song – Bust A Move ala Glee – “You know what to do, Fatso, hey, Bust A Move.”
Your reward for reading this? A hot photo of me.
What? You were expecting sultry hot? For that, you have to head to Room 704 for the Sultry June edition.
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Exercise – elliptical and then cool down on the recumbent bike
Calories burned – 500+
Movie – We are Marshall - eye candy, football and rousing speeches? Perfect workout movie. I sat on the bike and spun for a while just to watch more of it. “We may be behind on the scoreboard at the end of the game . . . but we can not lose.” Word, Matthew, word.
Song – My Life Would Suck Without You – Kelly Clarkson – video is dumb as hell, but damn the song had me running my ass off.
And to you – my life would suck without you.
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I am getting mentally prepared for an improvement in food and movement. (aka “diet and exercise”)
I have the hot pink workout shorts. I have the “moisture wicking” (aka “dear God I hope this sucks the sweat off my chubby form and makes me less miserable” fabric).
I think this outfit is going to be like Casey’s Mormon Underwear. Rather than reminding me of a commitment to God, this one is a reminder of a commitment to myself. To taking Alex to play at a swimming pool without having thoughts of being fat Mommy. To getting my rings off my hands.
check out the dents in my fingers. those rings haven't come off in over 6 months. maybe a year.
Apparently they are helping a bit. Alex and I faced the HOE-tell (as Alex says it) buffet this morning and walked away with Activia (anyone know what that shit does to a toddlers … uh … shit? am I going to need a hazmat suit?), coffee, milk and bananas. The (yummy) waffles and (sugar sweet oh so sweet) pastries, stayed behind.
Here I am at ground zero of getting healthier.
June 11, 2010 – rockin’ XL shirt and shorts and hovering in the buck-ninety range.
Goal – lose 10 pounds in 10 weeks. (August 21st or so).
How – Toss Alex into the gym daycare for 30-60 min a day, while I make out with the elliptical. Use the free weights at home. Use the Wii Fit.
On that Wii Fit note – I have the Jillian Michaels 2009 workout – it’s okay but I don’t love it much – anyone have something they’d like to trade? I could send you that one and you could send me something else? Or just recommend something else for me to try – library might have it and I get it that way rather than having to spend money on it.
Okay. Here I go!
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Look, I get it. I get that the whole MILF thing has evolved into some dumb ass “you must be perfect and look as if you’ve never been pregnant or looked at a cookie” mentality. I get that Britney gets called fat just because she doesn’t look like she used to – and that’s wrong. I get that Salma Hayek is taking a ration of shit because she actually looks pregnant with her entire body, and not like she’s smuggling a basketball.
However, I also remember the first time I heard the term and how hard I laughed.
It was awwesome. Those two teenage boys licking the frame and going apeshit over Jennifer Coolidge.
I mean LOOK at her. She’s fucking hawt, yo.
She’s hot and she does NOT:
1. weigh less than 110 pounds.
2. look like a 20 year old.
3. have skinny thighs
She DOES:
1. carry herself with confidence
2. dress for HER body type
3. exude an “I could be the best thing to ever happen to you” aura
And THAT, my friends, is what I have in mind when I think of MILF. I’m done being a little girl, and I’m sick of all the images that keep trying to tell me that I’m supposed to aspire to be 15 forever.
(I do wish that every time I typed MILF that I didn’t type MILK first, makes proofing a real bithc… bitch.)
I have limited computer access till Friday, if I don’t reply to a comment right away it means I’m having withdrawal pains from lack of internet.
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Oh alliteration, you are SO much fun!
(The Flinger reference is for her.)
Knowing that I was due to deliver in April, it was safe to say that I had no expectations of being in my normal two piece by summer.
(To explain, I buy 2 pieces b/c my top and bottom are so out of proportion to each other that I don’t normally have much of a choice in the matter. Either the girls are falling out or my ass is baggy.)
I found a way cute, non black swimsuit and ordered it immediately.
What happened next… well… I’ll let you read:
Dear Self,
When you are 37 weeks pregnant, and you receive clothes you ordered for post pregnancy, it’s okay to try on the nursing bra, it’s okay to try on the shirts – especially when you find the shirts are actually stretchy enough to wear right freaking now, which is a beautiful thing since you are so sick of all of your clothes.
However, DO NOT get cocky and try to try on the one piece swimsuit, purchased to cover the stretch marks. You are NOT smart enough these days to put together the fact that when the swimsuit will NOT go up over your thighs that this is a SIGN that you clearly HAVE put on the recommended 30 pounds of baby weight and NOT a sign of a defective swimsuit. Do NOT then go and put on another swim suit – b/c even when it goes over your thighs it will barely stretch over your stomach – leaving your nipples slightly exposed. You need to go and thank God that you didn’t fall on your butt while you were tangled up in the swimsuit in the first place.
Love,
Me
***
The swimsuit I ordered looked like this:
The way it looks on me is:
Poor little brown stripes, you didn’t stand a chance.
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It’s still fluctuating in the 164.5 area, but typically lower and more like 162.5. So not the stunning weight droppage I was hoping for.
Today I feel okay about this. I’m proud of me for getting out of bed, for having a smoothie instead of potato chips, for Alex letting me do some of mama-baby yoga if not all of it.
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With a predicted high of 96 degrees in the land of the vices today, why am I wearing 7 year old pair of repeatedly mended jeans?
Because I freakin’ CAN.
Why am I not unbuttoning the top button when I sit, even though it would make them more comfortable ?
Because I’m freakin’ stubborn.
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…with my weight loss.
Actually, I’ve known it all along….
To be fair, it was Key Lime Pie day. It only comes around once a month, and I don’t know if it’s just a summer thing – I might not be able to get it next month. And I figured as long as I was there I might as well get a Peanut Butter Crack … I mean Concrete Mixer. And I should get a sandwich (cuz I was hungry). So I got chicken. Because that’s healthy. Breaded. Because that’s tasty.
And for the record, one of the Key Limes is still untouched in the freezer. The Peanut Butter is not gone… but now that I’ve looked at this photo I think I need to go find it. I hear its sweet song singing to my soul.
OH FINE! I hear it singing to my thighs. Whatever.
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I don’t mean the XY XX genetic choices – but the why for me.
The very thing I fear – the perpetual motion – is what I need in my life.
I’m a sit on my ass kind of girl. In front of the tv, with some knitting, with a laptop, with some food, kind of girl.
I was picked last for teams in gym, I got my glasses broken constantly in contact sports, I could never ride my bike up the hill, I once tripped on a painted line in gym and sprained my ankle, my dad sponsored the summer softball team I was on – and I still once heard the coach say while I was going up to bat, “Here comes the girl who can’t hit.”
I have this weight issue. (However, today is 162, opa!) I don’t want to move my bod. It feels strange to me. The only thing I’ve ever trusted my body to do was childbirth.
But I have this boy.
This boy who doesn’t want to be still. This bright little boy who wants to see things and touch things and lick things – he’s not content sitting and listening to me describe it – he’s an up close and personal kind of guy.
This boy smiles when I put him on my shins and do crunches. This boy laughs when I bring my shoulders to him and exhale raspberries at him while I crunch. This boy loves when I pull him up and down, straining my triceps and shoulders in a good way. This boy loves being bounced up and down in the squats and lunges that I hate hate HATE to do. This boy likes to take the ride on my stomach as I do the bridge from yoga class. This boy is a mover and a shaker.
He’ll teach me to be active. He’ll teach me to live in my body rather than surfing online to find a picture of what I’d rather sit and envy. He’ll teach me to laugh while I get strong.
I just have to let him teach me. And damn that’s hard.
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