Fit + Flabuless!

Why hast thou forsaken this bloggy-blog?

I suspect you are a tad DEpressed, and I don't like it when that happens.

How is your fitness and flabulessness? Are you still sore?

I gained five pounds this week. Carbo loading and exes who come to visit are soooooo not good for my fit and flabuless quest. At least I kept working out and running like a madwoman. I'm good for something. Really. I am.

Just not dieting.

You were so right. And wise. Crazy dieting just begs for a backlash. Plus I'm an emotional eater. This I know. I haven't mastered how to combat the tendency to stuff my face when the going gets tough. This, my friend, is exactly why I'm in the boat I'm in. Imagine how ginormous I'd be if I didn't exercise like a fiend. No, don't. It's too scary.

Size four, I fear, is a long way off.

I'm not giving up, though!

If I can fucking run 16+ miles at a stretch, I damn well can lose 30 pounds and keep it off.

So, my plan is to move on, learn from my mistakes, forgive myself, and ease up on the strictness of the goddamn Zone. That shit never works for long. Three weeks max, apparently. But I do think eating mostly fresh veggies and fruits balanced with some protein and healthy fat is a good long-term plan. But a little grain, a little drinkie, a little sweetie now and then should be a part of the plan. And the plan needs less planning, cuz I get a little hyper about it (as if you hadn't noticed!), and then I ditch and run, because truly I need more freedom to feel like myself. Spontaneity has to be planned into the plan, if you will.

I don't know what the hell I'm talking about anymore.

I do know that I know how to eat right--for health, for weight loss--but the biggest road block for me is emotional eating. Since I cannot plan on life not throwing shit my way, I'm going to have to find a new, less self-sabotaging way to soothe my troubled spirit. And it cain't be drinkin' and it cain't be shoppin', my other vices of choice.

Thank God I stopped myself before pouring Bailey's into my protein shakes this week. I came close, though. . . .

I wish I enjoyed cleaning the house. That would be an excellent place to focus my nervous energies.

Meditation, perhaps?

Exercise, yes. I'm doing that. But it doesn't keep me from scarfing down every remotely starchy thing in the house.

I don't know. Perhaps I can just make these three-day stretches fewer and farther between. That would be progress, no?

although it could be worse.

I still did all my exercise, although not all at the right times.

The problem is I ate everything remotely delicious in the house. Including the stale Dove chocolates from Christmas. When I took off the wrappers words such as "your presence is the best present" appeared on the foil that I quickly crumpled and tossed aside.

I also polished off a jar of peanuts and many pecans. I might just have to rid the house of anything bite size.

Why is it that when your ex calls and tells you he's coming to visit salad doesn't sound like a good idea? I've got piles of lettuce in the crisper, yet I went for stale, narsty-arse, funky old chocolate that wasn't even delicious.

I guess it's that little thing known as self-sabotage.

Fuck.

Alrighty. Now is the time that I must bust out with the love and the truth.

I have never, and I mean never, seen you as a fat person. I ain't lyin'.

Now, I know I met and have known you post-highest weight. Same goes for me, and this might 'splain our distorted views of ourselves compared to our views of each other. But I also think true friends see us for who we are--we love each other for our faults as much as for our good, to badly paraphrase Dylan Thomas.

So I think as we continually lose weight and shrink our bodies toward what we thought we always wanted, we need to keep that battle in mind: self-image. I've heard this is the problem with maintenance, a thing I've never reached long enough to discover its problems. But the hardest thing is the belief that no matter what happens on the outside, inside we still feel like the fat little girls who were teased, despised and shunned by the people from whom we most wanted approval. Conquering this is no small task, darlin'.

But I suspect until we come to terms with it, nothing will ever be enough. No amount of fat lost, muscle gained, titties lifted, skin tightened.

You are beautiful, inside and out. Just as you are. I wouldn't have been drawn to you if I didn't think this true. As shallow as that may sound, it's the damn truth. You are a gorgeous lady, and you better start believing it. Otherwise, I might just have to kick your ass.

I share your revulsion for the plastic surgery shows, but I am so often drawn to them since it is absolutely fascinating to watch these transformations. I think that the revulsion comes from both of our desire to remake ourselves the old fashioned way, from the sheer brutality of the procedures (I mean, shit, the only other people willing to do things plastic surgeons do to the human body are called serial killers, monsters, and we lock them up and fry 'em whenever we can, because one should not generally be opening people up for just any old reason), from our good liberal-feminist bent which says there is nothing wrong with the bodies we are born with, by gum, they are wonderful and do wonderful things so why hack it up to look like someone else's ideal...

The short answer is, I think we are repulsed because we are, in fact, sane. Sane in a truly crazy world. Science is beautiful, but the command thereod has also made man crazy. We are a grasping, calculating species, far beyond any other on the planet. Twisted complication is what we do best.

That said, this is why I plan on having nips and tucks in future:

1. If I manage to lose all or even most of the excess weight, I'll have excess skin in certain areas, I'm pretty sure. I've been hugely fat all my life. I mean, shit, I weigh less now than I did when I was 10. TEN! My body and skin has never really known what it was like to wrap a little package. It's too late to ask it to start now.

2. TEN! So I've never known what it was like to have a little, generally admirable body. It has been selectively admired, of course, but most people have looked at me and seen pathology. It would be interesting to, you know, walk among you normals and not have everyone assume A, B, C, D and X about me before I open my mouth and more or less confirm it. Ha!

3. I'm keeping it to a minimum. I think I'll have my twins shrunken and lifted, but I wouldn't want implants. Maybe because I've had the hoots all my life, like you, but all the women in my (mom's) family were more-or-less little-hooted and I've seen the perks. Okay, worst punning ever, I know, but my mom's almost 50 and hers are still standing at attention. Oh, and no bras! God, I could never even imagine what that would be like. Joy!!!!!! Of course, the tradeoff is, at best, a Raggedy Anne seam running down the middle of each tit. Yeesh. But other than taking care of stuff so that I don't have to worry about stuffing my skin into my clothes appropriately for the rest of my life, no cosmetic stuff. I sometimes hate my nose. I'll get over that, though. Stuff like that I am much more practical about.

Crap, I gotta go to the gym. Chat later?

Half pound down according to the scale yesterday.

Either I should be happy, or I should be spurred to work harder: less drinkies and fewer desserts.

Instead, I dug into the Ben and Jerry's. But not in a ridiculous out of control way. I waited until dinner, a dinner that consisted of salad with shrimp. So, I think it was balanced. Although it was a big salad and two dishes of ice cream. But it was fookin' delish, man.

I think running like mad makes your body crave carbs. 'Course, my carbs of choice are Ben and Jerry, not pasta and bread. I love them, too, but when given a choice. . . .

Today I'm planning to go the gym and do some weights by myself. I'm not sure what I'll do without TTT. Running around the gym with her makes me feel much less inhibited. I feel self conscious doing a circuit by myself, like I don't know what I'm doing. I guess this is something I'll have to overcome. After all, I have pretty good form, and I've been at this long enough that I can do it without carrying around the little paper she wrote out for me eons ago.

Speaking of form, during the run Sunday a lady told me I have "beautiful form." She said, "I was looking around and trying to decide who I should aspire to be, and it's you." Can you imagine? Made me feel like a real runner. 'Course it was around mile 1 when she observed my form. Not sure what it looked like by mile 12. . . .

I watched a British X-treme makeover style show before Footballer's Wive$ last night on BBC. (By the way, you have GOT to watch Footballer's Wive$, it's fookin' delish, man.) On the makeover show they had a 30-year-old, 6-foot-plus, very slightly chubby, uglyish duckling, and they brought her to LA, liposucked her belly, back, neck and "bingo wings"; veneered her teeth; lasered her eyes; pinned back her ears; clipped muscles in her forehead; cut away skin on her eyelids; chiseled away at the cartilage and bones in her nose; inserted D-cups through her belly button (to replace her A cups); did her hair and make-up and designed a glamorous dress for her. Took 6 weeks.

I found this very repulsive, and the result was less than miraculous, as far as I'm concerned. She seemed to feel she looked better, and she did. But $200,000-worth better? They sucked a liter and a half of fat out of her body. I'm convinced she would have looked better with 6-weeks of intensive personal training and zone-dieting and a weekend visit to a spa. She'd have ended up healthier and it would have been a hell of a lot cheaper.

Of course, my reaction probably has more to do with my own thoughts of plastic surgery for myself than it has to do with the poor flight attendant from Bolton. I guess I struggle with the idea of abusing your body and then abusing it more. That surgery is nasty! And the way the doctors talked about her body as if it were an object! I guess I just can't see how this can be good in the long run. Yes, I'm attempting the same sort of overhaul through diet and exercise and I am increasingly becoming aware of just how deflated my breasts may become. This is leading to thoughts of lifting, nipping, tucking--and dare I say--implanting. I never thought I would be the sort of person who would do such a thing. But as always, it comes down to identity. I have had ginourmous breasts since I developed them at 9 or 10. Who will I be without them? I do not want to become a skeleton with hooters, as is deemed desirable these days, but . . . I don't want deflated balloons either.

Why do I have such anxiety about this? Can you help enlighten? Please and thank you. I know plastic surgery is something you downright plan on; do you struggle with it at all?

. . . really feels like an accomplishment, doesn't it. Problem is, I don't know which dang thing I did caused it. Poop. TTT can't figure it out, either.

Nuts. I love them too much. Almonds, cashews, peanuts. Not such a fan of macadamias. For once I pick the expensive ones to dislike. But these delicious little buggers are a part of my daily diet these days, which is good--except sometimes I eat more than I'm supposed to. Take today, for example. I was throwing handfuls down my throat with lunch. I don't know if this is what the marathon books say is a normal increase in appetite, or just me eating too many delicious nuts. Nuts!

Had a good session with TTT today. She had me do this crazy ab thing where I had to jump up and grab these handles, hang there facing the wall, then lift my knees up so high that I was pointing my ass at the wall. I don't know whether or not this description gives you an accurate visual, but you get the idea of how bizzarely complex and difficult this move was for me. Sheesh. But I'm happy to do whatever will get me ripped. Ripped!

I also overheard a group of people in the cardio room (as I was doing my 45 minutes on the ARC) talking about doing the Chicago marathon. One was a chubby little goth looking girl. It made me so happy. Maybe she'll be at the group run tomorrow. I heard her say she was doing 16 tomorrow. It's nice to know there is a community of people nearby who are as crazy as I am.

How the hell are you, dahlink? I tried calling you several times earlier, but the call wouldn't go through. Poop. Call me, okay?

I disappear for a couple days and all hell breaks loose.

Or something.

Yay for you and your non-flakey (does this make him smooth?) trainer. I like him already.

And what's going on with your new job that apparently is more than you bargained for?

I've been running and training. But also beer drankin' in the sun and cake-eating to my heart's content. Meaning: lots.

But I've decided this is part of the balance of a healthy life. A gal's got to enjoy herself a little, no? That's why I'm working hard on not feeling guilty about it. Cuz that would be a shame and counterproductive to enjoyment.

I'm pooped. That's all I got for now.

I hope you're well, dahlink. Talk soon?

1. Showed up on time...check.
2. Cheerful as hell...check.
3. Knows what the heezy he's doing...check.

Good enough for me, so long as he keeps it up. His style is pretty different. He seems to prefer more reps, more sets, lower weights, so we didn't cover as much ground as Flakeboy would in a session, but that's okay. I think I've learned as much as I need to from him to carry out the extras on my own at this point, anyway. Meh.

But after the session, which was quite thorough and has left me pretty sore, I put in almost an hour on Mr. elliptical and then dragged home and I was bloody starving all day long, despite having had a pre-workout smoothie, lunch (pasta with veggie sauce, which probably is what made me hungry) a little minute steak and broccoli turned into sesame ginger beef and broccoli, so I got a grilled chicken sandwich from this Chirpin' Chicken place. Dude. It was just chicken and veggies wrapped in pita, but it was hands down the best grilled chicken I've ever had. Amazing. I'll have to avoid that place at all costs.

I was thinking of skipping the gym today, but I shan't. Dang. So I'm off to make a Spirutein-free smoothie and get some coffee galores.

Where you at, Monie?

I'm crazy...like a fox!

Yeah, non sequitur. It felt right.

So anyway, I love the choco-Spirutein and frozen berry soy smoothie action for brunch today. As the Paris would say, "That's hot." Then she'd stumble around and maybe flash everybody, because if she actually ingested anything as calorific as a whole Spirutein smoothie (200 calories! Ish!), I'm pretty sure it would have been laced with the cocaines.

I think I'll have the other packet as my pre-trainer workout meal. Yay, new trainer! I think I like him already, but the bar at this point is so low, I should really try to reserve judgement. But if he shows up, he's ahead of the game. And if he shows up twice in a row, no reschedules...well hot damn, I might have to give him a bonus! Dang.

I opted for a giant bowl of light muesli with soymilk for dinner, BTW, over the ginger beef prep. It's too late, and I need to get my jiggly rear in bed if I'm planning to wake up and get to the gym for this session.

Hope you enjoyed your smoothie!

You gotta do what works, man. And it looks like your crazy system is working for you! Hooray!

I respect your desire to proselytize the superstrict regime. I just think we are in different boats. I've got a lot farther to go than you've got, you know. Which means I'll have to work at this for a very long time. Which means I have to be able to endure it for a very long time. (I know you are working cuh-razy hard, I'm not saying you aren't ma dear, but you can see the end, it is within your grasp, and then you'll have maintenance, which is no picnic, I know. I'm looking at a good year more, at least, and then very likely a nip-and-tuck or two. Christ.) Big runs and super strictness for me will be much more important when I've lost another 20 pounds and plateaued than right now when I'm cruisin'. Because right now, even with my occasional bouts of wingery, I am still losing weight, probably because I know when I've gone overboard a day or two and then balance myself out. And I know that, say two months from now, I'll get stuck in a rut. And that's when I'll need the pep talks and crazy strict routines and fancy breathing exercises. Because that's when what I'm doing will have stopped working out, and when I'll want to, too.

Also, I just don't feel the diet-plan passion. If you'll recall, a certain birthday book had this to say about my birthday: people born on this day just don't work with strict diet plans at all. Which is hilariously true. I'm much happier keeping an eye on how I've done for the week, all in all, than tracking everything I've consumed and micromanaging my meals. That shit makes me nuts.

Which is all to say, I know you're coming from a place of love. I hear your enthusiasm, and draw encouragement from it. But save the finger waggin' for when I say "I've given up, this is impossible!" because that is when it'll be most needed! Teehee!

Weigh-in today: minus 2 lbs, hooray!

This only proves that it IS THE FOOD. But rather than say, Gaddamn it's so hard, let's say, hey, now we know. We can do this. When you know better, you do better.

Sorry to get all Oprah on your ass.

I have yet to run today. Late night boat partyers woke me up, so I needed a bit of a sleep-in. Then when I did get up at 8:30, I was ravenous and decided running 14 miles with a grumbling, empty stomach probably wouldn't do at all. So I had a fabulicious bowl of oats with black raspberries and an egg-white pannycake and am now waiting for all that to settle a bit. It's getting hot out there. I'd better lace up.

Hope you're having a good day at the bunker, honey child. Did you watch "A Home . . . " yet?

is the key to success in anything. I have decided this. And no, I am not under the influence of any "life coach" or $12.95 self-help paperback.

I think mental preparation is important for my runs. Perhaps equally important is my drinking a gallon of water per day and having the right foods on hand and grocery shopping on a full stomach with a detailed list. Cuz everday things are more likely than not to derail you. This I know.

And yes, I know you are premenstrual and eating buffalo wings from Domino's of all Godforsaken places perhaps as I write this. But I'm just saying. Perhpas if you make yourself eat more better stuff earlier in the day and your body will thank you for it. Even if it's old mixed nuts, if you listen to Carlos.

Or just chalk it up to your Aunt Flo coming for a visit, forgive yourself, and never, never say you blew it. Cuz then you give yourself permission to eat more fried, oil-laced, sweety delicious monstrosities and you're sunk and sad and set-back. We don't want that, do we? Those 12 pounds have found a new home elsewhere--let them be, I say!

But then again, do what you want. I could just be all self-righteous and terribly irritating. Always know, though . . . I'm doing it for our fit+flabuless team!

Meijer brand Butter Pecan sweetened with Splenda in a box, to be precise.

And I managed to make it a part of my Zone lunch. Amazing how a quarter cup of that stuff'll do ya. Yummy! And no guilt because of the Splenda and the fact that I ate one of my famous mixing bowls full of salad before the ice cream.

TTT is totally forgiven for not giving me her full attention on Wednesday. I am so easy. She told me I look smaller. Three times she said this. Then she asked me if I feel smaller. I said yes, cuz after your PT tells you three times you look smaller, you miraculously begin to feel smaller. It's the food, I swear. Maybe those mofo pace runs. And the endurance runs. It's certainly not the drunken Saturdays in Chicago. Although that was dang fun and totally worth it.

We'll know for sure if the downsizing is real when I weigh in on Sunday before my 14-mile run. Welcome to week 2 of marathon training.

Remember the egg white pannycakes? I finally figured out that they really are like pannycakes when you only use 2 egg whites, instead of my usual 4 or 6. Amazing. I had one with a slice of toast and three almonds with a little glass of milk for my bedtime snack last night. Oh how I love the Zone. Ish.

As for your dericious lunch yesterday in Harlem, here's what I have to say: if ever there was a glorious way to blow a dieting day, that is the way, my friend. One day we'll have to go to Memphis together so I can take you to my favorite of all places in the world to eat. Funny thing, you gotsta eat collard greens while you're there. And the best pie place in the world is across the street. Nothing like downhome cooking. And when you come with me to visit my daddy some time I'll take you to the best catfish joint in the world. Huck's. In Howe, Texas. With green tomato relish. And fried baby squash. Mmmmm.

I think it might be time for a snack.

So when I went to Meijer and bought the ice cream, I managed to pick up $35-worth of other stuff, too. Like Splenda (but it came with free koolaid and a cutie koolaid mixing spoon with the koolaid face cute out of it), cooking spray, Irish oats (set me back $6.29, but totally worth twice that), eggs (for the pannycakes), calamine lotion (goddamn spiders), toothpaste, one cucumber (I always feel funny with a single one in the cart), one avocado, a can of cashews and a can of almonds. I am the queen of nuts. Take that in any way you want.

Speaking of sexual innuendos . . . TTT had me doing all kinds of weirdo moves that appeared to be simulating sex. I don't know if we usually do such things, but I am only aware of it in certain moments of my cycle, or if she was inspired by how small I'm getting. I don't know. But have you ever used the -- oh forget it. I can't even describe it without laughing my ass off.

I hope your day got off to a better start after that initial 17-minute long mishap. You poor lady. I have four words for you:

Get a new job.

I think I'm going with E., the trainer I mentioned last time F. flaked out. He did it again this week, and when I asked him if he was planning to get someone to cover for him, he got huffy and said he would just pass me off to another trainer, which is hilarious. Oh god, I'm surrounded by children all the time.

I don't know if he thought I'd be all, "No, don't do that!" but whatever. I said "Sounds good, thanks, I'll pick someone out today." And I did. E. is there all the time, or all the time I'm there, so there should be no problem with him. I hope. And now I have one less child to deal with. I hope. Fookin' hell.

I did some poking around online, and it turns out that the kind of flake-out F. pulls every week is not uncommon. In fact, many of the complaints I saw about trainers were about people not showing up or just canceling willy-nilly because they wanted to have lunch and all kinds of other bullshit. No wonder the fitness industry has a bad name. It seems to draw irresponsible, flakey people.

That's what you are. Me, too. At least we're not pop tarts.

Your soup sounds marvelicious. But you know me, I'm a soupaholic. But not in the summertime. I tend to switch to salads. And why am I not a skinny person?

Iced green tea. Have you done this for yourself? I am totally addicted. Drinking a half-gallon of the stuff on some days. I brew about 6 tea bags in a kettle full of water to make a good, strong base and then dilute it with water. Add the juice of one lemon or lime and splenda to taste and you got yerself a skinny-making mocktail. I drink it out of pretty glasses and that makes life so much sweeter.

I had a dream this morning that I was working out with TTT and she was pissing me off by talking to all sorts of people in the gym and ignoring me.

When I got to the gym--this is in real life, now--that's pretty much what happened! And she had me do the same exercises I was doing in the dream. What the hell kind of psychic weirdness is going on? And why can't I have some kind of useful psychic powers if I'm going to have them at all?

Look at this:
http://www.snakeinthebasement.com/july9001.JPG

and then when we talk maybe you can explain to me how to do hypertext and post photos and stuff, 'cuz I haven't figured it out yet. Maybe I just need to play around on Blogger more. I know. Sad blogger am I.

Call me when you have a moment. I tried you, but no you there!

So nice how I woke up this morning feeling fine. I think I'll be getting my period in the next few days. Nothing else explains these recoculous mood swings.

Also, joy of joys, I got on the scale this mornin' and found I am another 2 lbs down, and now officially back in grad-school weight. That'll always be a cheer-up. Now, another 10 lbs. and I'll be pre grad-school. How fast can I make that happen? I wonder.

Last night I made a pot of chicken vegetable soup for the first time in years (for obvious reasons) and it is delicious. Chicken, carrots, green beans, shallots, garlic, thyme, rosemary, seasalt, brown rice and beer. Yeah, beer. I was nursing a Bass at the time, and I just decided to dump some in. Dang, I sure do like making things on the fly.

Anyhoo, I gotta get to the gym. Buzz ya this afternoon?

No extra payment or lost sessioning involved. Still pisses me off, though. As far as abuse goes, I am a classic abandoned child. For a while, if I feel unloved or underappreciated, I just try harder. Then I pull a runner. It all adds to my charm, darling, my mystique. In other news, I seem to have just developed a tic in my cheek. What the hell?

Meh.

I realized last night that my window was open a tiny, tiny smidge. Once I closed it, I swear the street noise was cut down by about half. I think that may be why I haven't been sleeping well. Ridiculous. A month of this waking up three times a night and early in the morning, and all it took was a little extra tug on the window. Sometimes it's the simplest solution....

The diet sounds good, as well as your non-plan meal modifications. You're in good shape as far as that goes, and with your super-workout schedule, you should be in great shape in weeks!

I'm off-and-on good, diet-wise. Yesterday and today have been great, but Saturday was a disaster (5 Enteman's donuts over the course of the day at the bunker) and Sunday was just alright.

Moodwise I am having a supershittylow day. I am just not happy. With anything. This is a terribly lonely city sometimes, and so right this minute, I hate it. Maybe I'll be happier tomorrow, who knows. More likely I'll just be too busy to think much about it. Today was a short day for me, and I didn't have to go to the bunker, just shop for some stuff, which meant wandering around town on foot, watching the world slip by, and brooding. I swear, I think it's worse to be among people when you're like that than tucked up at home with a movie or something.

Jeebus, now I've blogged myself into melancholy. Anyway, chat later, chica!

'cuz he owes you, bigtime. And if you end up paying for that missed session, well. I'd say you have a history of letting people abuse you. And that makes me very unhappy.

But I'm sorry you missed your session. I guess your body needed sleep more than it needed boxing this morning. Why haven't you been sleeping since Chicago? I think sleep is an equal component along with diet and exercise in the fit+flabuless eqation. How can we get you more sleep (aside from sleeping through pt appointments)?

As for the bloggedy blogs, you can of course link this and divine marathon to siddity--in fact I encourage it. And I plan to focus on the running for the other one but continue to chitchat with you here. 'Course, I want you to read the other one, too, especially since you're my only commentator so far. . . .

I spent another $100 on groceries yesterday, but I figure I was always spending that much, just over the course of several trips throughout the week. I am loving my eating plan--healthy, fresh--and most importantly, working! I've revisted my Zone books for more pointers and of course I am perfectly brainwashed again that this is the healthiest way to live. Very moderate, although lowcal, and not tricky at all as long as the kitchen's stocked and I'm not out drinking like a whoooore.

I made a pot of Irish steel-cut oats and a pot of brown rice yesterday to have on hand. I can officially feed an army or throw a coktail party at the drop of a hat with all the booze and vittles I got on hand. I'm not sure whether that's good or neurotic or both. Either way, it's what I got.

I went in to work for the first time in a month and it was way more enjoyable than I thought. Still didn't feel like work, cuz it was eating and conversing with colleagues that I like. We had a cafeteria lunch and I managed to find something healthy in a big green salad with hummus and a quarter of a cheese quesadilla with cantaloupe for dessert. Not bad for a free lunch, eh?

Don't know what's for dinner tonight. I'm mostly using ediets as an informal guide anymore. . . . I guess the scale will tell me whether or not this is a good idea.

By the way, with the start of my period, the only aberration from my diet (save for the weekend in Chicago) was a sugar free fudgsicle last night after dinner. Not bad, don't you think?

I missed my session.

I am so mad I want to cry. Or beat the crap out of something, which is, unfortunately, precisely the opportunity I missed when I missed my session.

I set two--two--alarms so I could get up on time, and I failed to get up.

Okay, one alarm (my iPod) I set for the right time but foolishly used a music option which is useless unless you have it connected to a set of speakers, so that was just stupidity on my part, but I am going to blame my tiredness. But I have no idea what happened to the other, other than it fucking malfunctioned, since when I went to check the alarm time on it, it didn't have any alarm time I've ever scheduled up in that bitch.

And now I've missed a session.

Goddammit.

I haven't been sleeping well since Chicago, anyway, and I slept really well last night, so I should maybe be glad, but mostly I'm just angry. I'm trying to decide if I should stay up and go to the gym now or head out after work. But with the way things are going, my silly ass might not even make it up in time for work. Grumble, pissy, poop.

How are you?
:D

Are you gonna do all your health stuff over in Divine M........arathon? Shall I start checking there? Also, now that you know all our chitter chatter is out in the open, can I link this and your blog over on mineseses?

I hope you're sleeping right now.

Or perhaps looking for another job.

See the other bloggy for details of the weekend.

I'm back to running, running. 3 miles this morning in 23 minutes. And I'm nursing a bit of a sunburn. Totally worth it, though.

Ediets said I lost too much weight last week, but I told them I was just doing some crazy exercise, so no need to revise the plan. I'm going grocery shopping later.

On another note, I am such a virgin blogger! I did not understand that others had access to this little blog, lady! I thought it was just you and me fucking around for our own delight. Then I saw the link from Boogie's blog . . . and, well, I did me some quick edits--mostly to stuff way in the past that was work related. You must have thought to yourself at times, "What the hell is she doing?"

Anywho, it brings up some interesting philosophical questions about privacy, being in the world and the self one presents to the world, contingent, of course, upon just what that world is perceived to be.

Ok. I'll stop now. Meijer beckons. . . .

What's happening with you??

www.divinemarathon.blogspot.com

It's all about the marathon training. Have a lookielou.

So, I did make it to TJMaxx. On my bike. This was a stroke of genius on my part for two reasons. One: I got some exercise on a non-running day; two: I couldn't buy more than I could fit in my wee backpack. I got away with a sparkly wife beater (I can't believe I'm am legitimizing that phrase, but it's quick), $5.99; a pair of Jones New York rose-colored sunglasses, $7.99; and a gorgeous orange, titty, slightly sequined silk top, $15.99. If I had a digital camera I'd photograph myself in it and send it to you. It also matches those shoesies you gave me last month perfectly. That with a little skirt is my outfit tomorrow. Fun!

Tomorrow is my first big ass run to kick off my marathon training. I better get to bed and rest up. I found a bunch of delightful trails with mile markers on my way to TJ Maxx, so I'll be running thataway tomorrow a.m. before I head off to Chicago.

I'm coming close to starting a marathon training blog. I hope you're good!

but how dare you poo-poo a 2 LB LOSS to a woman who has lost nada despite Herculean efforts?

2 LBS is nothing to scoff at, lady. You know what 2 LBS of fat looks like?

And might I add that you are lookin' mighty fine with your little waist in your little t-shirt on your bloggyblog. Keep up the spanktastic work! Everything is working and you should be ecstatic!

And that Frank didn't have such a good track record to begin with, and the MYOPLEX disaster only adds to my disappointment with him. Why did he want you eating that stuff anyway. Remember, life is too short to be eating stuff you don't even like. Dang.

In fact, I'm even starting to fuck around with my ediets stuff. They let you request new meals if you don't like the one they've offered, which is very handy. For instance, I am supposed to eat tuna-stuffed tomatoes for lunch and that dudn't sound very delicious to me. So, zippityzap, I'm having a turkey/turkey bacon sammich instead. Yay!

For breakie I had 3/4 c lowfat cottage cheese with 3/4 cup strawberries and 3/4 cup bluberries sprinkled with almonds and splenda/cinnamon. Delish. Couldn't you eat a smaller version of that before working out? I find it most satisfying.

Whatchoo up to today? I think I'm going to TJ Maxx to find a cute top for tomorrow after I put my laundry out to dry.

God I love summer.

Yeah, I'm sore most of the time, too. I like it though, it's the only thing that lets me know anything is happening, considering I have only lost like 2 pounds, yeesh.

I bought a bunch of them there protein bars that are like, a crazy 330 calories, and this is what I have learned.

a) I couldn't eat more than half at a time if I tried, 'cause those suckers are twice as big and twice as sweet as goddamned candy bars, and there is no workout I'll ever do that I'll need a whole one of those for.
b) Those damned Myoplex bars are $2.35 each, so I won't be buying any more of them, anyway.
c) I am the flakiest heffa in the world, since I got to the Vitamin Shoppe and couldn't remember if he said Myoplex, Promax, Mesotech or Met-Rx, or if you said plain Spirutein, berry Spirutein, etc. etc.

I have to get to the gym now, since I won't make it over the weekend, for obvious reasons. I talked to Carlos last night, who has said he is no longer moving here, so I won't need to to any scouting, and that you guys will hang out, which I endorsed enthusiastically, as well as suggesting he swing by if you make it in a few weeks. Also, that you two have to have extra fun for me this weekend, since I will be stuck in a soul-sucking vortex.

Thanks!

. . . moderately. But feeling the self-generated love. My workout with Tracy was tough yesterday. This made waking up this morning and going for a run particularly challenging.

So I ran an easy 3 miles in about 25 minutes and felt good about myself.

I also talked to Carlos last night and convinced him to run the marathon in October! He's so easy, though.

He's also going to be at some street fair on Saturday in Lincoln Park, so I'm gonna call him when I get to town and maybe meet up. He said he'd like to go hear Woog play, too.

He's funny. And why does his laugh sound even funnier on the phone?

In the best news of all, I wrote that friggin' Harry Potter quiz WITHOUT ANY BINGEING AT ALL. In fact, I am actually hungry, since I ate breakfast 3 1/2 hours ago. I'm looking forward to my spicy chicken strips, big salad, yogurt and apple that's on the menu today. Hooray!

I'm excited about your boxing possibilities. Looks like you're doing a good job with your food today, too, but why are you eating unappetizing things? And why can't you spread that "jelly?" Weird. I ran on an empty stomach and then ate an open-faced avocado, tomato and cheese sandwich with strawberries on the side. Delish. Please eat more delicious things. It will make you a happier person, whilst, if you do it the right way, making you slimmer. Because, of course, perhaps sadly, happiness and slimness seem to be rather inextricable linked. Unless lots of alcohol is involved.

Speaking of which, I am already feeling a little stressed about staying on target while partying in Chicago. Would it be possible not to drink? Or perhaps sip a glass of red wine? What the hell? I've never been able to sip anydamnthing. I'll let you know.

Enjoy your day off, dahlink!

So, I officially signed up for the marathon.

The Chicago Marathon!

Sunday, October 9, 2005!

I have reserved one of the last hotel rooms in the city proper for that Saturday night and you are welcome to join me as a spectator or a participant, if you are so inclined, and stay with me at the Essex Inn Grant Park, a three-star hotel with a pool and a sauna and an outdoor cafe, yay!

More and more people are walking marathons these days, or you could do the half, walk/run, or any combination thereof. But if you do want to register, you better do it quick, cuz it's filling up--they only allow 40,000 participants and they think at least that many will register by August.

I am so excited!

And, after a little investigation on ediets, I have come to the realization that the diet I am on is the friggin' ZONE diet and I didn't even know it!! Well, I kind of thought it was similar, but how fun is that? Weren't we just talking about the $33 a day home-delivered Zone diet in Manhattan. Now I get basically the same thing, except I have to do all the work and it only costs $12 a month. Happy days.

I still haven't written that Goddamn quiz, yet. When I perused the website, it profoundly irritated me, but I'll get back to it in a bit.

I have eaten well today, yet again. Oatmeal, berries, almonds, a hunk of cheese for breakie; a big green salad with shrimps, strawberries and cashews for lunch, and I'll soon have a snack of some sort. Pasta with chicken and veggies for dinner and then some kind of snack afterward. I am eating so much and that makes me sooooo happy.

Tomorrow I'll do another pace workout or something hard and run-y. I am so geeked about marathoning it. I know it's crazy, but I need crazy to push on through, you know?

I think it's time for that snack--tuna and avocado on ggs, methinks.

Hope you're having a good day, dahlink!

So. Back in the gym today. Which makes me soooo happy. Ran into trainer Frank on the way out, who was all like, "Where were you this morning? We're supposed to be doing Tuesdays and Thursdays, 9 am, right?"

Sigh. No, no we weren't. It's Mondays and Thursdays. (I know. I've got it in an email-trail. Jee-zus, if nothing else comes of this job, I will be an email-trail whore. Whore, I say!) Which I explained. Or tried, anyway. Then he was all "It's no big deal," in that way that men do when they realize they're totally wrong but don't want to admit it, so instead they pretend they're doing you a favor by dropping it. Hilarious. I swear, he is totally not writing any of this down. You cannot have two flaky people in a working relationship like this. I get to be flaky; I've already paid. That leaves him as the point man. I know I've seen him write something down. It just apparently isn't ever our scheduled meeting time.

I'll see him for real on Thursday. I hope. In the meantime, I need to keep up my cardio at a minimum of 45 mins. At this point, I think I should probably be in the 1 hour+ range, comfortably, but I only manage it about once per week. I think that has a lot to do with my time budgeting, though. I have to try to do a solid six days of 1 hr. cardio and see how it goes. I'm afraid I'll hurt myself, but we'll see. Tomorrow, 1 hr. cardio and about a half hour of resistance, since I only had time for about half a strength session today and 35 mins. cardio.

Today's eats:
1 Starbucks iced coffee, double espresso shots, soymilk, Splenda.
12 Cherries
2 Ryvitas with tuna salad (made with 10 calorie mayo alternative and mustard. Mmmmm. Heh.)
1 Amy's vegan pot pie
1 caesar salad with chicken, Annie's Naturals goddess dressing
big handful of blueberries, a couple of blackberries and 2 strawberries.
Splenda lemonade

Otherwise, nothing new or exciting to report. Uh, didja get my message about the weekend after next?

Congrats on your ediets joy! I might look into it later on, if my upped cardio and renewed low-carb-diet-vigor fail to produce the results I'm after. Let me know how you do on yours.

Talk soon!

I know yer busy and all, but how am I supposed to get fit and flabuless by my own self? Dang.

So, I did indeed do a pace run this morning and it kicked me pretty hard. The good news is I did it all by myself. I ran steady for 15 minutes and then ran as hard as I could until I reached a tree or a sign in the distance and then I ran steady and slower for recovery. Then repeated until I cooled down. They call them fartleks. That makes it even funner.

Then I met Tracy at 11:15 and she worked me HARD. I was doing incline chest presses with 25-lb dumbells. Dang. That was hard. Then I did the ARC for 30 minutes while I read O magazine from May. There was a particularly good interview with Tina Turner, whom I often dressed up as a child and cut my Barbies' hair to emulate hers. Love her. Got inspired by the article.

Ate delicious ediet day 3 things such as: toast with avocado and tuna and blueberries for breakie; turkey with bbq sauce, couscous almond pilaf, spinach salad and a peach for lunch; two ggs, cottage cheese, blueberries and almonds for a snack. For dinner I'm having veggie chili and salad and for a late-night snack I'm having a blackberry smoothie. Yay!

It is a particularly beautiful, clear day today. I've been sitting outside on my upstairs balcony overlooking the lake reading Somerset Maughm. Delicious.

Now I need to haul my ass to ballet. I think I might bike there, but it might do me in. We shall see. . . .

All this work better pay off, but even if I don't lose an arseload of weight, I'll appreciate what I'm doing. Really, the food is great, the exercise makes me feel so much better. I've decided to stay focused on the process and enjoying the day-to-day. If I'm making you puke, I'm sorry; I'm just riding the happy wave. Maybe the hard running kicked in those endorphins long term. One can only hope. . . .

Isn't it weird how just last week i was all in a friggin funk? The ups and downs. . . .

Love you. Hope yer having a good day at the bunker. . . .

So I'm just gonna keep on like a crazed lunatic until you stop me with your own postings.

Today I returned to running after a several week hiatus. My ipod pooped out on me twice, so I went home, took it out of the armband, ran with it and everything was fine, thank god. I'm finding it damn near impossible to run without my tunes anymore, spoiled child that I am. After the good run, I got in my swimming togs and jumped in the lake. Yay!

My ediet breakfast today was an amazing platter of cottage cheese with raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, cantaloupe and 5 macadamia nuts. Delicious. And it was so huge that I was stuffed. Crazy.

I cleaned the house a little today in preparation for my mama's coming over for lunch. That was good. I so need deadlines to get any damn thing done, I swear.

I strayed from the ediets lunch of shrimpy mayo salad on pita with a big salad. Improvisation on day two. Shit. But it turned out for the delicious best. I made a chinesy shrimp salad with a bag of coleslaw, a red pepper, 8 oz of shrimp in a homemade dressing of soy sauce, red wine vinegar, hoisin, sesame oil, ginger, garlic and sriracha. Accompanied by a salad of watermelon and cucumbers dressed in mint, salt, pepper and lime. So good!

couple hours later I had a slice of fruit pie my mama made, but I avoided the crust and had a hunk of lowfat cheese for protein. I counted that as my afternoon snack.

For dindin I et a big friggin green salad with balsamic vinegar and an open-faced blt on one slice of lowcal wheat made with your favorite: turkey bacon, and a smattering of avocado, tomato slices and melted lowfat cheddar (my new fave--beats the hell out of that fat free wrapped in plastic shit).

I've also had my late-night snack of the little leftover salads from lunch. YUM!

I am a happy girl and I highly recommend ediets based on my two days, one of which was improv.

Tomorrow I return to Tracy at 11:15, but I think I'll run first thing in the morning. I'm started to feel like I should run the marathon in San Francisco in October. I need to get to training. I better go scare up my marathon-training book.

I hope you're well, dahlink. Talk soon?

I love my new ediet life.

Today I spent $109 at Meijer gathering the goods for my first week. Seemed kind of steep, but I did get some big-ticket items such as fancy nuts, chicken and turkey breast, turkey bacon, nova lox and crab.

I also followed the menu for today and am quite pleased with myself. I was neither famished nor hating what I was eating at any point. In fact, eating all freshly prepared things felt downright virtuous. I even managed to drink plenty of water. Hooray for me! I think this will help break me of my neurotic desire to eat dessert after I put anything in my mouth. Dang.

So this was the menu:

breakie: 4 egg white omelette with chopped tomato and fat free cheese, 2 ggs (they said 1/2 piece of toast) with 1/3 T peanut butter, nectarine

lunch: grilled turkey breast, sweet potato with cinnamon, spinach salad with strawberries, walnuts and balsamic vinegar

p.m. snack: turkey and cheese lettuce roll up

dinner: grilled tilapia with lemon and olive oil on a whole wheat bun (you guessed it--I had two ggs instead), green salad with vinaigrette, grapefruit

late snack: 3 olives, 3 cherry tomatoes, 1 oz nova chopped, mixed and topped on 2 ggs (ediets said rice cake, but I'll be damned if I'm buying rice cakes)

So there you have it. They say the diet is 1200-1300 calories a day, and that's what I need to lose the poundage. I told them I am very active, 160 lbs with a goal weight of 130 lbs. That seemed reasonable to them. My BMI still hovers near the "obese" range--at 28 I'm firmly planted in the "overweight" category. The aim is to fall somewhere between 20 and 25, hopefully closer to 20 so I can get that ripped look. Can you imagine?

Anywho, it must be obvious that I am all excited about my new dieting strategy. I tend to be very excited at the beginning of things, but I think this might be a good solution to my curazy eating lately. And now is a good time to do it for me, because I have the time to do all the prep work for the meals. I can always reset my preferences and say I'm too busy to cook; then they'll give me more packaged food and fast-food options. But that doesn't seem tempting right now. I'm enjoying the variety, especially after way too many fiber crackers. The spinach salad with strawberries, balsamic vin and walnuts was particularly tasty and something I would have never come up with on my own. So I'm liking this.

It's around $12 a month and you can't cancel until after 3 months without paying a $25 charge. Even still, if it works, it'll easily be a good investment. I guess I just want the structure--to just try it out faithfully and see if it works. It's kind of like a science experiment on myself. Mwahaha.

What's new witchoo? How's Pop?

And one final fit and flabuless note: if you continue on your omnivorous path, I highly recommend you get yourself a little George Foreman grill if you don't already have one. I did my turkey and fish on it--so handy! so healthy! so delicious!

As I sit here on a Saturday night with my distended belly hanging over the top of my jeans because I finished off three cups of steaming hot basmati rice with pickled vegetable, I must ask you to disregard everything I wrote about any kind of self-realization and acceptance of my body, because I have bitten the big one and joined ediets.

It thoroughly pissed me off with all its pseudo pop-up offers for "essential diet tools" but by then it was too late and I managed to dodge them fairly effortlessly. I did have to fuck around with the different diet options before I settled on the glycemic index sans fake eggs, red meat, pork and soy. Now it looks like a diet I can adhere to, and it gives me a weekly shopping list, too--something I poo-pooed at first, but I think it might come in tres, tres handy. I have most of the stuff (besides the fresh ingrediments) already, anyway.

So, I have done this because I know eating is my weakest link. I need the structure, and hopefully after a few weeks of faithful adherance to the plan, my stomach will shrink, and I'll get used to the whole thing. Meaning: eating appropriate amounts of food. Because I know what I should and shouldn't be eating and how it should and shouldn't be prepared. I just eat too much of the dang stuff.

And this thing suggests that it will help me lose 10 pounds by August 6. Just in time for my friend Jessica's wedding. So, I'll keep you posted.

Hope yer having phun in philly!

. . . funkadelic, funkshastic, funkalicious. Or something. I don't know.

But thanks for helping to laugh me out of misery last night. I feel better today. Tracy helped this morning, too. And I think I've had a sort of philosophical breakthrough about myself. Nearly.

It has to do with weight and depth. It sort of solidified in a conversation with Chris about his kajillion tons of marble he's maneuvering in his backyard and his neurotic love of antiques, including the 18th century dressing table he's named "George" that finally got shipped from San Francisco and weighs 450 lbs. He has issues with permanence. I have issues with weight (which also goes back to my obsessive love of Kundera). Anywho. Bear with me. In my first session with Pam, that's one of the things she said to me. It was clear to her upon first meeting that I have extraordinary depth, and I must be aware that there aren't very many people capable of meeting me on that level. I also know that the strength of my voice is in its depth--in writing and singing and speaking, actually. I realized the writing part in juxtaposition to Rebecca G. Dorr, who was always a masterful craftsperson when it came to writing, but there wasn't that much behind it. Mine's not always so pretty, but it has heft.

This, I realize, is a strength. It also speaks to my study of philosophy, a very weighty discipline.

So, let me loop this around to my physical self. I think my body fairly represents my person, my depth, my weight. I'm fuckin' hard to push over with my meaty, short self and big feet. I'm solid. Won't blow over in a windstorm, no siree bob.

I'm not sure that I actually have a conclusion here. I'm simply trying to come to terms with who I am and how maybe I need to own my own skin in a truly authentic way. Which means: continuing to exercise. Hard. Embracing the positive physical changes in my body--the tightening, the muscles popping out. And chilling out about the poundage. I'm working towards that. You know, as long as I'm healthy, feeling good, and attractive, what is my problem? yes, I'd love to be a little, tight size 2, but honestly, I lurve the eating and the drinking and the merriment and the indulging of the palette so much, that I suspect the life I'd have to lead to maintain a size 2 would not feel like an optimum one for me. however, I might give myself permission for the merriment, but in my own down time, chow on the fiber crackers and egg whites for balance. Of course, the problem is that I eat more and for reasons other than physical hunger when i am alone.

Okay. Working on working this out.

I have also discovered in the past two days that there is such a thing as eating too many egg whites. They create terrible smelling wind. Not a good thing at a dinner party where the dog is forced to hang out outside. Those big dogs are handy for blaming farts on. But only when they're around.

Also, I had a brilliant divine intervention on your behalf whilst driving home tonight. It came to me in a flash: you must listen to and meditate upon "Redemption Song." Do you have this Bob Marley masterpiece available to you? This is your assignment. Straight from the Buddha through me to you.

I also think that horrible lady's response to your compliment had a message for you. Because if there wasn't some kind of truth in it somewhere, it wouldn't have bothered you at all. I don't think it has to do with your weight; it was simply couched in that. I've decided that we need to start analyzing our lives as if they were dreams. So, the message gets back to that ass-kicking post I wrote a little while ago relating your employers to an abusive boyfriend. . . . you gots to take care of yourself, lady. And you're doing a marvelous, simply marvelous job of it with your training and working out and blogging and eating right--I absolutely applaud, salute, and gain inspiration from you daily. But it sounds like the time has come for that self care to spill over into the other parts of your life that aren't working for ya (just call me Dr. Phil).

So, I plead with you to get serious about finding another gig. Start making something positive happen professionally--just take some steps toward something that will fulfill you (and I don't just mean your bank account. Copyediting? Ahem. Are you kidding me? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe bartending would be more fulfilling in every way. . . . )

I'm behind you, lady.

Now go forth, enjoy your trip to Philly, and do not let this slide. I repeat: do not forget this moment or gloss it over with whatever and then two weeks from now become shocked and horrified at the way the people who pay you treat you. Yes, they are fuckers. However, you have the power to put an end to the way they treat you. Please start putting things in place. I say this only because I love you. . . .