Fit + Flabuless!

that's what I say. Think of it as a metabolism rev and carbo-loading for the ever-shortening countdown to SF. Or sumpin.

I've had a blah day. Had a fun class--starting poetry. Hah! Talk about the blonde leading the blind. Or sumpin.

Day started off well enough--2.6 in 20 minutes as planned and and egg white/oats brekkie. Then after class I just couldn't get full, so I ate a couple of Amy's, a few halloweenie candies . . . then had a nap, avoided doing my reading for class tonight, woke up and ate some cheese and two low fat brownies. Finished with two poached eggs and turkey bacon. Why can't I remember to hit the protein earlier? If I quit now, go to class and eat nothing else for the day, methinks the damage is minimal. Especially if I get up tomorrow and run again. God love my renewed love of running. Took me long enough. But I'm working on no judgment. . . .

Off to class!

Lessee, this weekend I ate...starch.

Bagels: 3
Pastries: 2
Bread boules: 0.5
Miscellaneous starches (rice, injera, desserts, etc.): too many.

All delicious, of course. But this is why I don't keep the stuff at home. I suspect I've gained a few this weekend. We'll see whether I can get back to where I was by the end of the week, though, that'd be nice.

Nice to hear you had a grand time at your partay, though! I haven't partied for Halloween since the booze cruise, sadly. I miss partyin'. Did you do fancy Marilyn makeup, winged eyeliner and all? I love that look. Fun! Hope you took pics. And kept your nips safe from your old profs! Skeeve. But, as you are now faculty, dahlink, you are fair game....

Oh, call you in the a.m. I need to get to bed and rest up, then get up early and get some groceries and put in my daily elliptical hour.

. . . and happy about it. Yesterday I ran 5 or 6 miles in the glorious fall sunshine. This morning I ran a quick 2.5 miles and damn if that isn't fun! To hell with the long distance running. Been there, done that. I've decided now to run shorter distances at higher intensity. I figure if it only takes me 20 minutes, I can do that first thing every morning instead of lounging in bed for that same period of time convincing myself to get up. Feels good.

I went to a "sick and wrong" Halloween party last night and it was grand. Except my old psych prof showed up dressed as Kinsey and silly me agreed to respond as Marilyn Monroe to his sick and wrong sex survey. Mind you, he's been trying to get these answers out of me ever since I wrote a paper about the sex, drugs and Drum and Bass club culture in Dublin for his cultural psych class. Turned out to be a very dirty night. But all talk. My nipples and I dressed up as MM may have inspired some mild flirtation and perhaps others and their snogging in the corners, but no real action for me and the girls. I guess I need titillation with brain chemistry action first and there wudn't nuthin' doin' for me there last night. Despite the basement dance floor with me twirlin' all over the middle of it. Oh well.

And I thought I was doing all good with my eating and then, well. Jello-shots with gummy worms and dill pickle potato chips and halloween candy happened at midnight after all my inhibitions were unleashed by Kinsey and all the ghoulish punch I was drankin'. Well? What the hell are holiday parties for?

At least I woke up and went for a wee run, ate some oats, a protein shake later . . . and then lunch at Panera with my mama happened. I ate a fatty, grilled sammich of some chickeny variety that was delicious. Tater chips to boot. Dang. I'll make up for it with some of my 9 gallons of French slimming soup I made yesterday for din-din.

Before lunch I tried on the suit at TJ's and it ain't right. Better not to buy anything that doesn't look good now, I've decided. So I bought a bunch of fancy knickers in the hopes that someone someday soon will care to see and delight in what I'm wearing beneath my trousers.

Oh and I'm close to booking my trip out East. The conference is paid for. . . .

So what's happening in your fit and flabuless world? Was D.C. a dranken'whorin'brawlin' kind of trip? How many BabyRuths and fistfuls of candy corn did you eat?

Yesterday I woke up late, worked out with TTT and did an hour on the ARC machine. Sweat like crazy. Didn't eat a thing until 1 p.m.--salad, Amy's Santa Fe Bowl and an apple. At 5 I ate a luna bar. That's it. All day. And I felt fine. I didn't leave Sher's house until 11:30, and by then it seemed too late to eat, so I just went to bed.

Which is such a delight these days since I'm awakened in the night by happy waves of vibrations pulsing through my body. That's right. I can feel these meds working, and they seem to be giving me orgasms in my sleep! Now that's a far cry from those anti-depressants that would have shut down any and all sensuality. Hot damn this stuff is good.

I thought about spinning this morning, but sleeping in felt like a better option. I think I'll go for a run later. But now I'm off for some breakfast!

Hope you're having fun and feeling good!

For the second time this week, I showed up for our session a wee bit late. She had to leave 20 minutes later, so we squeezed in all the arms and chest we could. And rather than punishing me for showing up late, she decided not to charge me for the session.

Wha?

Today is also her birthday and she's sick. Yet she gave ME a gift.

These are the kind of people I want to spend time with.

I did bring her a Rolling Stone magazine with Bono on the cover and a fab, fab, fab, marvy interview with him inside as a little happy b-day gift.

When you're paying attention you do see that you get back so much more than you give, methinks.

And now that I'm on new thyroid meds, I think I'm better capable of thinking clearly and paying attention. That is my hope, anyway.

For the past couple of days I've quit eating pretty much by 7 at night, and dang if I don't feel skinny when I wake up in the morning. Sex is the only better way to start the day. But like I said yesterday, nary a prospect in sight.

I bought a Halloweenie costume yesterday--a Marilyn Monroe/ Seven Year Itch white halter dress. I have a platinum blond wig already--doesn't everyone? The problem, or perhaps benefit, of the dress is that it is so sheer, everyone on the block can see my party hats (it is friggin' 40 degrees around here). Do I return it, or do I throw caution to the wind and wear it to a party Saturday night?

Hope yer havin' fun in D.C. darlin'! Call me when you get back!

You're doing soupair, dahlink!

Me, I'm okay. Still weird. Finally found out that my thyroid level has tripled--that's bad. Explains all kinds of stuff. My new Dr. has a plan. I am hopeful.

Tomorrow's TTT's b-day. We have an appointment at 10:15 and then we might watch her sister on Montel at 11. I should get her a giftie, no? But what?

I found a fucking gorgeous boutique-y suit that I desperately want from TJ Maxx. So. Cute. Flared little goldy-green short skirt, matching blazer with pale, blue trim and brass buttons. Sounds weird, but it's gorgeous. Problem is: it doesn't quite fit. It's not exactly cheap, either. Now, there are two schools of thought on this one. One school suggests one should only buy flattering clothes that truly fit the body one inhabits now; such a choice honors the body and the self. However, the TTT and Marezy school of thought says buy the fucking suit, hang it up, stare at it every day and use it as material motivation to whip self into shape for b-day, thanksgiving, chri-mas, etc. Use it as a tool to power through the holidays.

TTT says work your ass off now, get skinny for SF, cuz you'll be so much happier that way. She's so right.

29, bitches. 29. I can't be 29 and fat! with nary an interesting romantic prospect anywheres!

Fuck.

So, yesterday was the first day in a long time that I didn't eat crap. I usually start off well enough with an early breakie of 2 poached eggs, turkey bacon, small glass of grapefruit juice and coffee. Yesterday I also ate a balance bar at noon, an apple and a luna bar at 3, an Amy's veggie loaf at 4, a can of soup, broccoli slaw in vinagrette, and 3 squares of dark chocolate at 6. At 8 I had a mug of sugar free cocoa made with skim milk. I'm guessing yesterday's total falls somewhere around 1500 calories.

I did a tough legs workout with TTT and put in 30 minutes on the elliptical. I luxuriated in the steam room for a while. After that, I was thoroughly useless for the rest of the day.

Now I think I'm ready to start running again. It is, after all, only a month to the turkey trot. 'Course, I'm willing to skip the turkey trot in the name of drink if need be. Just so you know.

I can't wait to start my new thyroid meds. I might be a new woman soon!

As for you, I hope your therapist is a keeper!

Today: No exercises. Two frozen organic meals, a yogurt, a Clif Z bar, and two boiled eggs, mashed with salt, pepper and butter.

I am so glad I am seeing a shrink tomorrow. Now that I've got one all lined up, I feel about ready to crack.

Oof.

You done vanished into the ether or what?

Okay, so today:

1.Training with E plus 60 mins elliptical, just over 1000 cals.

2. Pre-workout meal of Clif Z bar. One grande soy pumpkin spice latte after training with E but before, during and after cardio (lucky me, the machine next to me was busted, so I just set my cup there and went to town. And took little coffee breaks in the middle. I know, it's weird.)

3. Two big cups of my Superfood concoction.

Now, as you know, when last we spoke it was, oh, close to 4? And I was hungry.

It is now 8:30 and I have finally gotten myself something to eat. Alas, it is an order of cold sesame noodles I picked up on the way back from gift shopping. Oh well. Further nosh is unlikely. Calorically, I think it might be okay for the day.

How you doin'?

1. I got up Monday morning and put in 65 minutes on the elliptical, 6.45 virtual miles traveled, 1083 calories burned.

2. I had only my special Superfoood/lemon juice/water on the rocks concotion, plus coffee with splenda, for breakfast.

3. Soy cheese pizza pocket for lunch

4. Peanut butter Clif bar for snack

5. And this is where it all goes to Hell. After work and a bunch of cleaning of my apartment, I decided to neither order in nor eat another frozen meal.

I decided to cook. This turned into:
1 entire large chicken breast (hugemongous, maybe 7-9 oz.) cut into strips, battered and fried into chicken fingers
2/3 of a sweet potato worth of sweet potato fries
1/2 ear of corn
a bunch of steamed green beans

While half of my dinner was good dietin', the other half was not. But it was all really pretty and colorful. Meep.

Oof. Must...control...self.... Tuesday, training with E. and a better diet. *eyeroll*

Halfway to goal? That's a big, friggin' deal, darlin'!

I don't know where I am or what my goal is anymore. I'm just glad I got back to the gym this week and worked out twice with TTT. It's really good for me to be around her. She's a good influence. Tomorrow I'm back to booty camp. Yay!

That marathon nearly kicked me out of orbit. I was chuggin', moving right along, feeling good, getting fit, and then WHAM! Me laid out on the couch getting an IV of mac and cheese to ease the pain of my strained foot for two weeks. Oh well. Learn, move on. I'm back, and that's what's important. My eating is still erratic and less than light, but I'm in the midst of one mean period. I'll get back on it over the weekend. Return to happy cooking and all that.

Dude, I spent more than 700 minutes talking to you on my cell phone this month already. That dudn't even count the times you called me on my land line. Time well spent, yes, cuz when else do we laugh so hard we cry and chat about . . . well, no need to recap the madness here. So here's the deal: get yourself on the mobile-to-mobile plan. For an extra $6.99 per month, all calls to other t-mobile phones are free. I guess this doesn't help those times my phone cuts out at home, but damn. We could save enough money in overage charges to take another spa holiday this way.

Okay. I need to get the hell out of this office and get something to eat. I hope you're not working too hard today.

So, adjusting for the fact that my scale was off by 4 lbs and had to be adjusted up to reflect the doctor scale weight, here's what my slidey should look like:

Ohforgetit. The code isn't working. But I'm halfway to my goal. Damnit.

I just hope I can keep this crazy exercise plan going for the next 5 weeks and beyond. If I can. I might actually drop another 10 pounds by then. Eh. Shooting for 5, I know, best not to burn myself out going all crazy. Sigh.

But already this week I have put in three hour-long, 1000+ calorie burning workouts and two sessions with E. Another 30 minute cardio workout should be about right to get a pound off this week.

I'm kinda tired though. And work this weekend is going to be a bitch.

Meh. Chat later.

How you? Or are you getting back at me for not posting for two weeks? Teehee!

Welp. Nothing going on here, you see. I am in one of my more adherent phases, in which I actually eat and exercise more or less the way I am supposed to. It does seem to be working. This morning I found myself down 3 lbs from my last week, but that's possibly also just a factor of good weather and the end of my period.

Meh.

We'll see if I can drop anudder two or three this week.

So far I've been doing 45 minute-hour long cardio workouts four days per week, plus training with E. on two of those days, and occasionally, veryvery occasionally, getting in a resistance session on my ownsome. But that's damned rare. It seems like my body is quite happy doing two days of that instead of 3 each week.

I am actually also keeping a food journal now, as I have been instructed by the taskmaster. Funny, I don't know if the journal is keeping me on track or if my eating jsut isn't all that bad because I feel like being good lately. Who knows.

And them Clif Z bars--the ones for kids--are durn good snackin'. Perfect size for either a pre-workout meal or post-workout snack. And only 120 calories. You should get some, lady!

I dunno, maybe it's San Fran, maybe it's a phase, maybe it's just an attitude shift that's been a long-time comin', but I actually feel pretty committed to this whole weightloss thing now. I believe it could also have something to do with actually starting to look the way I thought I should when I was getting on the scale with the artificially low numbers. Now the numbers are right and I'm closer to where I want to be and it looks right.

Also, I fucking refuse to buy new jeans, and the last pair I have now that I love is on its last legs, so to speak. Any day now, they're just going to give up. So I'd better be fully back in those other puppies by then!

That is all. How you?

So write already.

Please and thank you, lady.

Since the carbs weren't working, I pulled out all the stops yesterday to make myself feel better. Therapist and massage therapist. I feel more centered now, but still a little disconnected.

I don't think I'm up for crash dieting anymore. I'm too tired for that shit. And I think when I'm in crash diet mode, I'm furthest away from being connected to my body. Wasn't that the reason I was in this marathon to begin with?

Damn. I have to write a review before noon. Whatchoo think about Daniel Craig being the new James Bond? He's no Pierce Brosnan, but I'm open to see what he can do with his fine blondie self in terms of Bond-age. Tee-hee.

I think I am suffering from this. And I may be the first documented case, I'm not sure.

I am particularly dismayed and disappointed in the state of my life and my body. Ironic, yes, but very, very real. This is probably why I need to go see Pam.

The weird thing is I didn't think I did this marathon for the destination, to cross the finish line. I thought it was about the process. But I guess I thought I'd get more out of it than a fucking bum foot. I am experiencing the opposite of a feeling of accomplishment. Not failure, exactly, but sumpin' yuck. I can't quite place it, and that's why I haven't written on Divine Marathon since last week.

Talking to Ramon last night didn't help, although he was actually very sweet and supportive. I guess it doesn't matter how sweet and supportive he or anyone else is when I ultimately I feel alone. And useless. I think I've lost the plot. Again.

Dammit.

All I want to do is lie around in my flannel pajamas and nap and eat bagels and mac and cheese. Unfortunately, I've taken on teaching for two different universities, taking classes full time in a PhD program, running an academic resource center and freelance writing. What on earth is wrong with me? Why can't I be satisfied, ever? Will I run myself into the ground, snuff out the life in this beaten up body before I come to appreciate who I am, nevermind what I can do/have done?

I guess a part of me thought that if I ran the marathon, if I beat the odds of a rotten injury and plowed through, everything else would be fine. Kind of like the illusion that if you could just lose weight, become thin, all of life would magically be wonderful, you could finally be the person you imagine yourself to be. It's all bullshit. 'Course, that doesn't stop me from hating myself for still having a belly even though I ran a marathon.

And so it all comes back to the self hatred. Why is it so friggin' hard to love myself? And why do I seem to draw people to me who can't manage to show their love for me, except in the most oblique ways?

From afar, my ex wants to help pay my heating costs this winter. That is love, man, but it ain't the kind of love i'm looking for. You see where I'm going with this? Is the kind of love I'm looking for out there for me? I'm afraid not. At least not until I can learn to generate it myself--love myself the way I want to be loved.

But I just can't seem to do that. So why should anyone else?

I'm still carbo-loading. I don't know if I can begin a diet countdown to SF in earnest until some of this post-marathon pain goes away.

Actually, I'm more than carbo-loading. I bought a big ol' hunk o' beef, roasted it, salted it, and ate it thinly sliced and still slightly bleeding on whole wheat bread with avocado, tomato and red onion. I don't know that there is a more delicious thing to put in one's mouth. I must be fixin' to start my period.

I also cooked a nice french green bean and tomato salad with balsamic vinagrette and my favorite crotch pot dish: tequila lime chicken. I've eaten some of all that today.

I'll be back with TTT next week, but I'm taking this week off. I'm hoping that between the chiropractor today and the massage therapist Friday, I'll be healed. Something is seriously wrong with my left foot/ankle, though. Maybe Dr. R will do an x-ray today. Harumph.

I cancelled class again today. I just need the time to recover. And I haven't cancelled class in my 2.5 years of teaching, so I won't hold my breath for someone to sue me. Damn. A girl's got to take care of her own self.

I like your determination, lady, and I'm telling you--too-tight pants are the best motivators. Hang them up somewheres you can see 'em every day. I never did get myself into my motivation pants properly. I mean, they fit, and I've worn them in public, but I probably shouldn't have. Damn.

I'd say I'm shooting for a pound a week, for a total of 6 pounds lost, but I swore off the scale and I'm sticking to it. I'll have TTT measure me at the end of this group of sessions and see. I'm planning on drinking at least a gallon of water a day, eating plenty o' veggies and way fewer refined carbs, breakfast always and nothing after 7:30 at night. Then working out best I can--at least 4 days a week--as soon as my foot works again.

I'm not sure that qualifies as determination, but damn. I'm happy to cut myself a little slack.

* * *

Okay, so that was yesterday's post that I couldn't publish for some reason or another.

Today I am suffering from carbo-bloat, and I am calling a moratorium on carbo-loading until the next marathon, which hopefully will be never.

I am feeling so lousy from the french toast bagels, the oatmeal cookie, the bbq potato chips and the macaroni and cheese I ate today, that I discovered new resolve in the dieting to SF countdown we're doing together. That, and I caught a glimpse of those marathon photos, particularly the post-finish line one when I was too tired to suck in my gut. All on the internets for everyone to see. The only thing to do is set that gut free by cutting down on the aforementioned foods and their group. Poop.

My foot still hurts, and no exercise for me. Hopefully that'll change, too.

Okay, I'm tired. What's the latest with you?

So. Six weeks until San Fran.

What's my plan?

More long workouts. Five per week, minimum 45 minutes of cardio. Three strength sessions per week.

Eating off of tiny little plates.

Whole meals of one-half of a Clif bar plus a glass of Superfood juice cut with water and lemon juice (just because it is most delicious that way, not for diet's sake).

That's it. I'm shooting for 10-12 lbs in those six weeks. That's about 1.5-2 lbs per week. Entirely feasible with hard work.

Mostly, I am refusing to buy any new jeans this winter, and the last two decent pairs I have are still too snug, the bastids. I'll need to lose about 7 pounds to get into them comfortably, but the 10-12 off would look best in them. Sigh.

I'm gonna miss E after the end of this month, but I can't afford another $600 right now, not with SF and maybe Chicago and what have you. It's just too much. If only I could pay per session. Meh.

Okay, so how about you?

You are upset about maybe missing bootcamp, despite the fact that you will be running 26.whatever miles the following day?

Cuh-razay!

But I know, sometimes we get into the habit of beating ourselves up for the things we can control, when what we want to deal with is something else we can't.

How's that for cryptic? I don't even know what I'm talking about. I just had a sangrusska, and BTW, remind me to give you the recipe for that. To die. Ha!

So I am watching Fit TV, and there's this woman on there getting her final results, and they're going over her measurements. At the start of her program, she was 141 lbs., 34% bodyfat. This made me think of my session with E. yesterday, when I got my measurements, which I won't list here, but I will say this: 1. To the shock of my body-building trainer (but not to me), my calves are only 1/2 inch smaller in circumference than his. I told him they were huge. And that man had me doing calf raises. Hah. He was all, "do you wear heels? If you do, stop." Nope. It's just something about the way I walk. 2. My BMI is 34.2 or something. Which he said was good, because he said it meant I had a lot of muscle mass; I was doubtful, since a BMI that high is really only a good thing for actual bodybuilders; but then when I saw this lady on TV today, who weighed almost 50 lbs. less than me before her fitness plan, it said her 141 lb. body fat percentage was 34%. I am 38% body fat, and outweigh her by nearly 50 lbs. Which means, according to my highly suspect calculations, that E was right, I am built as hell under this fat. It also seems to mean I have less fat to lose than I thought, by about 25 lbs. Yay!

Okay, too buzzed to blog, this is making no sense.

G'night!

I don't even know what to do with myself. I've finished the tasks I set forth for myself today. I can't remember when I last did such a thing. I mean there's plenty I could move onto--more to come tomorrow and the next day and next week, etc. but I can also do it later. Damn.

But fitness. I haven't participated this week so far. Monday was nuts with my nose buried in Nietzsche and Foucault for the presentation and today I woke up at friggin' 4:30 just to get my grading and class prep done for 8:30. I need a damn nap. But I have a 4 p.m. meeting with important faculty and administrators. So. Good thing I wore a deep v-neck sleeveless top today. Damn. Some days there's just no preparing.

But I'll be seeing TTT tomorrow and Friday and the marathon on Sunday. I might have to skip booty camp Saturday, even though I hate to miss it. We'll see.

I've been doing pretty well with the old eating. Honestly, I haven't even looked at TTT's meal plan for me. I've just been quitting eating by 7, sometimes earlier; eating an eggs, toast and coffee breakie; and trying to get enough veggies, fiber and water in between. So far so good. I'm not weighing myself, but I feel good and my clothes seem to be fitting more generously, so I am a happy chile.

Well feck. That's all I've got on the fit and fabulous front. Not feeling fabulous, because I'm tired, hungry, developing a lip zit, and there's a lady smoking near me at this outdoor cafe. Stank. And my nose is still stuffed up. I need some decongestant and lunch. I'm off.