tonight's game

Tonight at the gym I noticed someone had written on the chalkboard
The Hunger Games
Isn't that the truth?

The name of tonight's game is Pizza/No Pizza. 
I was working out at the gym tonight with a colleague and told her "tonight is pizza night."  She said "are you excited?"  I said "no, because we aren't having pizza and this is the fourth week of not having pizza."

I really love pizza.

This is week four.  Week four of being back at the "tough" gym.  I am stronger than I was but not nearly strong enough.  Yesterday morning I was at my lowest weight since I started back.  Then I blew it by going to Friday's with the girls after work. This is what I refer to as a "temporary gain."  Because it will come off, again. 
Today, I'm back on the horse.
I'm counting weight watcher's points- on my own.  In 2000 I did weight watchers and after a year I was at goal and then I became an instructor.  I'm very good at telling people how to lose weight.
I'm a lot better at telling people how to lose weight than actually losing the weight myself. 
Another thing I'm good at is losing the weight, but I'm not so good at keeping it off.
This time, I want to lose it and keep it off.  This is the third big push for me.  I did it in 2000 and I did it again in 2010.  I want to lose it and keep it off because I'm tired of being overweight.  I need to lose it for my self-esteem.  I love being fashionable and I would rather feel fashionable than matronly.  Yes, I'm a grandma, but I don't want to look/feel like one.  In fact, I'd love to have a t-shirt to wear when I'm kicking ass in the gym (throwing tires, punching the punching bag, climbing the prowler) that reads "just call me Grandma." 

Go Granny!

I became a Grandma one year ago.  And suddenly I am filled with a desire to be the best that I can be.  I want to be able to garden with my little Bee.  To walk in the woods and show her things.  To play in the floor.  To run through the airport to make a connection (which I recently had to do when I had gone out to see her).  There are times I think how many years will I have with her?  When she is thirty I will be eighty.  I want to be here for her.  I want her to know me.  I don't want to be a photograph that my daughter shows to her and says "this was your grandma, my mother.  She loved you very much."
My paternal grandma ended up on a walker.  My mother has had a number of surgeries to correct osteo issues- ankles straightened, knees replaced.  My hips ache from all of the years I ran when I was in my twenties.  Tonight in class, my knees, first one, then the other ached.  I gingerly stretched and continued with my work-out.
Today, Doug got on the horse.  He joined weight watchers.  He is doing points plus.  Which I have no idea of what that means.  I'm doing the old basic weight watchers.  I have my points counter.  The old points counter that counts fiber, calories and fat.  It worked before and it can work again.  Now they want to give you all of these extra bonus points.  I'm sorry, but I don't do extra bonus points.  And you can add points for exercise.  If I add points for exercise, I'll never lose.  Weight watchers should have a special program for post-menopausal women because it is so difficult to lose after menopause.  I keep trying to tell friends who haven't yet gone through menopause lose it now. 
Besides working out and eating smart, I'm getting pedis.
How are you being good to yourself?

This is war, she roared

After last night's basketball game, you probably think I'm talking sports. 

I'm not.

I'm talking body.

I'm talking weight.

My weight, to be exact.

The countdown is on.

I leave for Paris in eight weeks.

Seven weeks and three days to be exact.

Let's just say that I have some baggage I would rather not take to Paris. (J'aime manger!)

Two weeks ago, I re-joined the tough gym.  If you are a long-time reader, you will recall in April of '10, I did bootcamp at the tough gym.  I was in there nearly every day.  Some days twice a day- before and after work.  I starved.  I sweated.  I killed myself.  I spent a lot of money for classes.  Tough classes that got results.

And, I won.

It is ran something akin to biggest loser, and I fuhreaking won.  I was the women's overall winner, combining weight loss, inches and percentage of body fat lost.  I was down to 140 pounds. 

Fast forward to March of 2012.  I would not describe myself as a winner right now.  I've continued to stay in shape, some what, but my diet has gone to hell.  I am an all-out person.  Either I'm on the wagon, or I'm off.

I'm back on the wagon.

I got on the scales on Thursday morning, and after being back at the tough gym for two weeks, I was up five pounds.

This is war, she roared.

Plus, after work on Thursday, I was showing a colleague some photos of my art.  There is a photo on facebook of me holding a shadow box that I created for Papertrix.

I shyly said "that was me, after I finished bootcamp, when I was down to 140 pounds."

She blinked, leaned towards the computer screen, giggled, and said in an incredulous voice

"Oh, I didn't even recognize you."

Ouch.

This is war, she roared.

In '10 before I did bootcamp, I did no sugar, no flour on my own and lost 23 or so pounds.  Then I did bootcamp and lost another 23 or so pounds.  I haven't gained it all back.  I can still kick ass in the gym.  (Sorry, I can.)

When I'm "off" I grab whatever and shove it into my pie hole.

When I'm on, I'm conscious and making healthy choices.

A friend of mine calls it "being kind to our bodies."

One of my best gal pals, Jennifer,  (go read what she has to say about her body, and read a portion of the incredibly encouraging email she sent to me, yesterday.  (Which I printed out to keep as encouragement.)  Until this very moment when I went to link with her blog, I had no knowledge that she wrote this post.   

As women, why do so many of us feel nothing but disdain for our bodies?  Our bodies do so much for us.  My body helped me to produce two beautiful children and I have the "scars" to show for that.  Our bodies carry us through life and help us to embrace and love and touch and encourage.  Why can't we encourage ourselves?

This is war, she roared.

I have a fire burning in my belly.  Deep beneath that belly fat, there is a fire, roaring.  It helps me keep going when I've worked all day and I don't feel like going to class or climbing onto Jacob's ladder or picking up some weights or pushing myself on the rowing machine. 

When I am thinking healthy, I cook and produce lovely dishes to feed myself.  Last night I made a pizza with a tortilla.  (I have been craving Italian spice and tomato.)  I should have "crisped the tortilla, first.  I like to bake on my stone on top of parchment paper.  Such easy cleanup. 

I cooked up mushrooms, zucchini and spinach.

Added shredded mozzarella cheese.

For those of you who are counting weight watchers points, I was surprised that a tortilla (pkg says "burrito size) is 4 points. 
I was in such a hurry to eat it, that I forgot to take a photo after the cheese melted.  It was very good and very filling.
This morning I cooked up zucchini, sliced thin and quartered.

Added fresh mushrooms.

In the blender I blended 2 farm fresh eggs, (1 point each), a splash of milk, a teaspoon of sour creme, a teaspoon of pizza sauce (I often put catsup on my scrambled eggs- I think it is a southern thing) and 1/4 c. shredded mozzarella. I blend my eggs because I like them fluffy and don't like to see egg whites, I like them to be creamy yellow. I sprinkled the eggs with dill and ground pepper.  I also sprinkled a twist of this Florida sunshine stuff I have which is sea salt, orange-lemon-lime zest, ginger root, rose petals and peppercorns.  Then I added a teaspoon of this stuff from The Bread Dip Company which is called Artichoke and Caper All Natural Bread Spread & Dip.  Yum.  Flavor, people, I want flavor!

It was delic.  The toast is Ezekiel bread which is 1 point per slice.  The spread is Brommel and Brown yogurt spread which not only tastes like butter, it smells like butter.  I love it.

This is war, she roared.

Bowl of jelly

Do you think Santa wonders how did this happen? 

You know, your waist band gets tight, your bra gets tight, whatever it is doesn't want to button?  And I don't know about you, but I think how did this happen?  I am getting ready to be interviewed by another blogger which has caused me to take a long hard look at my blog.  I've sat looking through old posts and photos.  Posts a little more than a year ago that talk about being a gym-rat.   I was doing boot camp.  I was filled with determination.  It was a "biggest loser" type of situation and I won!  I did.  I was the top overall female.  But, my weight has crept back on.  Bite by bite, nibble by nibble, little by little.

Santa and his bowl full of jelly

We spent Thanksgiving day waiting to go pick up my son and his girlfriend.  We baked a ham and had a couple of ham sandwiches.  We congratulated ourselves and joked about how we were probably the only people that were not stuffed.  And despite the lovely salad that my son's girlfriend made and her healthful influence, once they arrived, we ate and ate.  On Sunday morning after they left I stepped on the scales and was horrified to see that the scales were as high as they had been since boot camp, a year ago.  I went to the Y that afternoon.  And I went back on Tuesday after work and last night after work.  I said to Doug "can we try through the holidays?"  I want to not only maintain and not gain any more weight, but lose!
Are you with me ladies?

I'm talking to myself, here, but if this applies to you, then heed my advice:  ignore that little voice in your head!  I need to ignore that voice that says "sit down in front of that nice hot fire and take a load off- have a glass of wine- have some cheese- have some crackers- have a beer!"  (Then whatever you do, don't move the rest of the evening!)    Shut up little voice!

And this is where I might add that I don't want a bowl full of jelly belly, but I already have one.  And I'm tired of this:

As much as I love muffins, I do not love the muffin top!  (Or, for that matter "mom jeans.") (And as I am not entirely certain just what "mom jeans" are, I may be guilty of wearing them already- despite how cool I think I look in my mind...)

And remember, every pound counts.  Every pound UP and every pound DOWN.  (Gross, huh?)

Here is one way to look at it:

just say no!

And remember:

I battle SAD during the fall and winter.  I've been off and on anti-depression meds.  IF you need them, take them, by all means!  People have suggested that I've never been on the correct meds, but they make me feel lethargic and numb.  I feel like I gain weight when I'm on them.  When I asked my doctor if there was an anti-depressant that has an appetite suppressant in it, she replied "wouldn't that be handy?"  I was able to avoid taking anti-depressants last fall and winter and hope to avoid them this fall and winter.  I talked to my son's girlfriend when she was here and said "it is hard to get out the door, but I always feel better afterward!"  (If nothing else, I'm glad when it is over!)  My doctor advises averaging 35 minutes a day.  What is that?  Four hours of exercise a week?  I think I can do this!  My goal is to get my heart rate up and to sweat.  In turn, that causes me to consider what I am and am not putting into my mouth.  Nibble when it comes to sweets and fats and carbs.  I'm not saying cut them out entirely because if you are like me, it makes me crazy with cravings, but just a little.

My friend Jayme over at Tales from the Coop Keeper has done an amazing job this past year.  She has taken off around one hundred pounds!  For more inspiration (and a lot of giggles) go over and give her a visit! 

Boxing ruined my manicure

Apparently, boxing ruins a manicure.  Who knew?  I certainly didn't.  I wouldn't think that if you had on these cute boxing gloves that your nails would get messed up, but mine did.  Before yesterday, I had never had on a pair of boxing gloves.  At one of the classes I took in my Meltdown program, we punched the water base punching bag.  There were ladies gloves in pink like these and lavender.  Pretty cute.  I saw some people just hitting the bag.  Not me.  I was punching for all I was worth.  First of all, one of my goals when I started boot camp was to have "guns."  (Big muscles in my arms.)  Plus, I have a lot of aggression in me.  My work-out partner, Katie said "let your inner bitch out."  I said "let your inner hill-jack out."  When we were done, Katie & I tapped our gloves together.  I said "I think I want to be a boxer!"  It was fun.

 The class I was in has stations and you work your way around the room doing different tasks.  You are at each station for four or five minutes.  In one station, we swing kettle bells, similar to these.  I have graduated from the fifteen pound bell to the twenty-five pound bell.

The owner and master of Meltdown is Adam.  Ever the doppleganger, Adam is both caring mother and task-master to us.  His latest torture device is "Jacob's Ladder."  I didn't see them use it on Biggest Loser, but Adam said that they did and he had to have one.  The first time I was on it I did five minutes and climbed 274 feet.  Adam posted a video of me on facebook to demonstrate that anyone of any age or weight can do Jacob's Ladder.  Even though I am the poster child for the older, over-weight woman, I am proud of what I am doing.  We are beginning week four of boot camp and our second weigh-in is next Sunday.  On my first two week weigh-in I lost 11.2.  I have never worked so hard in any exercise class that I've ever been in.  This program and the people who participate are like no other.  There is literally blood, sweat, tears and barf.  I haven't personally seen the barfing part. (Thank goodness!) The big trash can is ever present.  People of all ages and weight range work and encourage one another.  In class I am gasping for breath and hanging on for dear life.  I can't say enough about this program.  When you are in boot camp, you are eating, living, breathing this program.  My daughter was home for a weekend and said that was all I talked about the entire time.  I know everyone in my life feels the same.  It is a journey and while on it, you are working harder than you've ever worked at anything and it is all you can think about.  It takes every ounce of effort within my being.  And even though the gloves ruined my manicure, I can't wait to box again!

Gym rat

I am, once again, becoming a gym rat.  For most of my life, I've been an obsessive person.  Either I'm in the zone and exercising, or not. I'm in the zone right now. 
I remember when my children were young how they learned that when mommy was grouchy, she needed to go work out.  One night I came through the door after working out and my daughter said "do you want to go back to the Y, mommy?"
I started boot camp last Sunday.  Eight week program, weigh-in every other week.  On weigh-in day, we get a "cheat day."  On the off week that we don't weigh in, we get a "cheat meal."  This past weekend, we didn't get either. 
I'm eating my weight in vegetables. 
This is where I'm going.  I've never done a program that is as effective.  The class are tough.  Everyone works hard.  Adam is strict but affirmative.  We are his children.  He walks around saying "nice" and "good job."  I swear I work harder just hoping he will give me a little tid-bit of praise.  He has this big deep voice.  Like a drill sergeant he will say "all right, listen up." 
We have fun sayings like "chatter makes you fatter." Which means, if you are talking in class, you aren't working out hard enough. I have never worked out so hard, ever.  I am shocked that at my age, my body is responding.  I was in a class yesterday where we had partners and worked around stations in the room.  My partner told me that I was going to be stronger than I've ever been, before.
I wrote here about my first class experience with Next Generation.  That class was called "burn fusion."  One of my friends later told me that she thought I was talking about an art class.  I've been sore, the diet is strict, it isn't "fun," but it is amazing. 
My dad is a type 2 diabetic, age 70 and is in great shape.  I guess it has always been a fear of mine that one day I too would be a diabetic.  I know I was dealing with  a serious sugar addiction.  About 3.5 months ago, I went to the Dr. and weighed more than I have ever weighed.  I started doing self-imposed "no sugar, no flour," the very next day.  Now this.
O.k., enough about me, I'm off to the gym.

why I love the needle

First, I take off all of my clothes.
This is serious business.

Then I step on and step off to make certain that it is dead center.

I lean over and nudge the dial this way or that. 
Get back on and step off to see if it is where I want it to be.

Finally satisfied, I step on and very careful watch to see where it ends up. 
If it is to the right, I'm satisfied.  At times, elated.

If it is to the left, I'm disappointed.  Sometimes exasperated.

What in the world am I talking about?  The needle on the scales!  I was thinking about it this morning, how much I like the needle over digital.  With digital, it isn't subjective.  Oh, I suppose you could lean this way or that and cause it to fluctuate a bit.

I like it when the needle is "hovering" towards that next pound...just a little between one line and the next. 

Last night I went to a university event at a local winery.  For the first time ever, I visited the winery and didn't have an ounce of wine.  Insane!  They had a very healthy spread of fruit, veggies, cheese and chicken.  I ate, hurried home to change and hit the Y.  I did seven miles, six on the elliptical and one on the track.  In the process, I hit the highest reading I've had thus far on my pedometer. 

When the needle is heading in the right direction (that is the left)...I love it!

Over the top?

Do you think it is too over the top to wear a pedometer on your nightgown?  I've written of how I like to "piddle" on Saturday mornings, and it is after noon and if I don't wear my pedometer on my nightgown, then I lose half of my steps for the day!

After menopause, I found it nearly impossible to lose weight.  The needle on the scales has steadily leaned to the right which has been very disconcerting.  About six and a half weeks ago, I started "no sugar, no flour," and I am happy to report that the needle on the scales is finally drifting to the left! 

Have you read April's Vogue magazine?  It has an article entitled "Coming Clean," which is about fasts and detox diets which is popular right now.  The writer of the article, Bronwyn Garrity writes about how overuse of laxatives, over time is damaging.  How do you get things moving?  Water- lots of water...fruits and vegetables.  I rarely eat red meat and haven't for about ten years.  One claim is that the brain fog will be lifted.  Garrity writes that recent studies have shown that just eating more whole fruits and veggies and eliminating junk food may trigger brain cell growth in a few months.  Is that encouraging news?  It is to me! 

Another article by Ginny Graves is about how mindful eating, moment by moment awareness of what you are eating may help one to lose weight.  We've always known that slower consumption is good...scarfing one's food down without giving any thought to what you are shoving in is never good. 

 The model Gisele is on the cover...she has had a baby, people!  She gained thirty pounds with him.  I gained thirty-three with my first.  I ran until I was six months with her, continued to walk, swim and attend exercise class after that.  My second?  I don't want to talk about that pregnancy.  

 It is a good issue and timely for what I'm experiencing right now. 

This is what they do to a cake at work...I had ONE bite and it tasted like perfume!

*I'm trying a new blogger layout and having issues with placing my photos.
**Addendum...do you ever write a post quickly and then think "what did I write?"  That is how I felt about this post...the duggles wanted to go somewhere, I was having photo layout issues...just felt rushed and frazzled...the whole time we were gone I kept thinking about my post!