Thursday, March 31, 2011

A breakfast recipe so good you'll wanna slap ya mama...

I have to say...I've been quite the cook lately. Let me share with you what I thought was an absolutely fabulous breakfast recipe. Unfortunately I do not have a picture...I think you probably know why.

Here's the breakdown of frititta - which is basically a fancy word for an omelet you bake in the oven instead of cook on the stove-top.

1 individual size cup of egg beaters - They sell them at the store - they come in 3 per package.  (60 calories)
1/4 cup 2% shredded cheddar cheese (60 calories)
chopped fresh mushrooms (0ish calories)
chopped fresh bell peppers (I used red and yellow) (0ish calories)
1 cup chopped fresh spinach (0ish calories)
chopped red onion (0ish calories)
(on most of the veggies, I eye-balled it - I used maybe a small handful)
3 slices chopped Canadian bacon (60 calories)
1 tablespoon olive oil (120 calories)
salt & pepper - to your liking
onion powder - just a sprinkle
Cavender's seasoning - just a sprinkle
garlic salt - just a sprinkle

That equals 300 calories plus a few additional ones for the veggies (but the calories are small - probably less than 30). Either way - that's a grand total of 350 calories for a super-good breakfast! If you wanted to cut out the olive oil and use a cooking spray, that would cut the calories by 120. But, "they" say you need healthy fats in your diet like olive oil, so I went for it.

Saute all the veggies and Canadian bacon in the olive oil. When the spinach has wilted and the veggies are tender, remove them from the heat. In a small, individual casserole dish (think small enough for one person), spray it with a little Pam cooking spray, add egg beaters and cheese. Then, place veggie/meat mixture on top. Cook at 400 degrees for about 10-15 minutes or until egg is firm all the way through.

Super-healthy. Let's compare it to what that little food pyramid says we need... Veggies? Yup. Healthy dairy? Yes! Protein? Lean. Healthy fat? Of course (olive oil). And I'm pretty sure I ate every color in the rainbow (which they say is good for you). And it actually tasted good. Really. Maybe you don't like mushrooms or onions - well just take them out and replace them with some other veggie you may like such as broccoli. And ta-da! Healthy breakfast for one. I ate mine with some fruit to up the healthy factor.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Today's edition of "What's in my fridge" may wonder what lies in a chubby girl's (who secretly wants to be a "skinny biotch" as my best friend calls it) fridge...I'm here to let you in on the secret. The good & bad (in true chubby girl diary form).
Let's start at the top...
Ragu pizza sauce (so good for making my new little pizza creations)
Weight Watchers Key Lime Pie Yogurt (haven't tried it yet)
Atheno's Roasted Garlic Hummus - it's basically a better for you type of dip. It's made of olive oil (a good fat) and chickpeas. Good with veggies or crackers.
Tri-Color bell peppers (trying to get all the colors in my diet - though I have to admit - I can barely swallow the red ones - my taste buds don't agree). Yes, indeed, they do have different flavors.
Blue cheese crumbles - really good on a salad or on a pizza
Various fresh produce - strawberries, lettuce mix, spinach, celery, onions, asparagus, carrots, grapes, oranges and lemons. I'm a big advocate of fresh produce. It tastes better and it's better for you.
Pace Picante Sauce - I like to use it as salsa with chips
Fresh mushrooms - SO much better than canned. I use them in spaghetti or omelettes.
Neely's "Honey Kissed" BBQ Sauce - YUM!
Horizon Organic 2% Milk - It has a longer shelf life and I can't taste the difference. But my wallet sees a difference. It's a bit pricey, but as a single gal, I can never go through milk before it goes bad, so I figure I'm saving in the end by buying something that has a longer shelf life (and that's healthier).
Turkey Bacon - delish
Hot country sausage - this was a request from my dad - I try to stay away from it
Applewood smoked bacon - again, a request from my dad (although this is very tasty)
Roast Beef lunch meat - not too bad, though I usually opt for a lower sodium turkey
Canadian bacon - good for an omelette or pizza
2% cheddar cheese and 2% mozzarella cheese - I can't really taste a difference - other than it takes it longer to melt.
Havarti cheese slices - ok...well...this is a full-fat cheese. But if you tried it, you'd know that some things you just can't give up.
Assortment of mini-sized chocolates (and I do mean mini size, not fun-size) - in case of emergencies
Hellman's Mayonnaise - I just can't give up the real thing. Fat-free mayo sucks. I just try to eat less of the real stuff.
Dijon mustard - when I need to get my veggies in for the day - instead of dipping them in ranch dressing or sour cream, I opt for an almost calorie free dip. It's really good - and a good choice for a condiment on a sandwich instead of mayo. 
Ground turkey - good as a substitute for ground beef in almost anything. I get the leanest version possible. It costs more, but so does most healthier versions of food...unfortunately. (And America wonders why it's obese!)
Ribeye steaks - A serious comfort food I just won't give up. I try to eat it sparingly though. Like once or twice a month at the most.
Boneless, skinless chicken breast tenderloins - a good size for a meal

Sugar-free chocolate syrup - Sometimes I revert back to kindergarten and want chocolate milk.

Pineapple cups - when fresh pineapple isn't available.

Raspberry vinaigrette - I just wanted to try something new.

Kashi crackers - They don't taste like Ritz, but not too bad either.

Cheddar Broccoli soup mix - Not too healthy because it's cream-based, but good when you have a cold or feel sickly.

Water chestnuts - Good in a stir-fry (with pineapple and chicken)

Crystal Light - 5 calories = better for you than Coke.

Sweet and Sour sauce - I use it in my stir-fry. The lower sodium version is best.

Artichoke hearts - I use them in a salad or on a pizza.

Minute Ready to Serve Brown Rice Bowls - Perfect sized portions and microwaveable (I add some seasoned salt to mine - it can be a little bland without.)

Canned Tuna - A pantry staple

My advice: try something new. Broaden your horizons!

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

When life seems really tough, consider the possibility that you're just a big wuss.

It just so happens that my dad got me this hilarious Maxine comic book that has all these quotes in it. This was the first quote I flipped appropriate for today.

Because today - I felt like a big wuss at the gym.

I've heard that when you workout, your body may decide, all of a sudden, to act like a lazy dog and roll over and look at you with eyes that say "We're doing what today? Nope...don't think so. I'm gonna lay right here." In other words - my body decided to turn on me. My head was saying "Let's do this!" My body was saying "Uh! Please, stop the madness!" For once, I'd like my head and my body to get the memo at the same time: I don't want to be fat anymore.

It seems like when I'm mentally motivated, like today, my body is in complete denial. Making it go to the gym is like trying to get a 3-year-old up from the floor who is throwing a temper tantrum. But guess what? I WENT ANYWAYS.

My goal was to complete 3 miles by alternating a run for .05 miles and then a walk of .05 miles. Um...I ran the first .05 mile and wondered why was it so hard today? And then I decided, to heck with this, I'm going to that Zumba class.

So, I got my Zumba on. It was the first time I actually went to a Zumba class - like, in front of people. Note: In front of strangers. Now, I'd like to pride myself on the fact that I do, in fact, for a white girl, have a significant amount of rhythm. I can bust a move. I won't deny that. But, darn those mirrors in the workout room! I caught a glimpse of myself - perhaps my dance moves are over-rated. Because - I was not feeling like a sexy dance goddess. I was feeling more like the white girl in the dance club everyone is secretly laughing at. But - I still did it. Bad moves and all. Calorie burn doesn't care whether or not you are MC Hammer on the dance floor.

However, I wish I could have mentally blocked out all of my "girl thoughts". You know the ones, don't you? The thoughts like the following:

"Wow. I wish I looked that good in spandex."
"How does she move her hips like that?" (Think Shakira-style hip moves)
"I wish I could do the booty pop."
"I wonder what she eats to stay that skinny? Probably lettuce and rice cakes."
"Does the leader think I can't keep up? I can so keep up." (Thinking this while currently not keeping up.)
"Is everyone sweating like me?..and is everyone sweating in the places I'm sweating?"
"Can't we turn the fans on in here?"

So, maybe I was a bit of a wuss today. But at least I did something. I used to do nothing. And the last time I checked, running a half of a mile and doing a 1-hour Zumba dance session definitely counts as something!

Lastly, a special note to the dance instructor: You totally missed a step in the electric slide - just sayin'.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

So...maybe I was once sorta-kinda popular...and skinny.

I guess maybe I was popular in high school. Geez...saying that I was popular makes me seem like a total bitch. Please know I didn't even like writing that. I mean, who really says "I was popular"? I know who - bitches. But before you write me off as one...let me explain. It serves a purpose. I promise.

Granted, in the small town in which I grew up, pretty much everyone was popular. If you lived in town - that alone made you popular. But if being popular in high school meant being a cheerleader or being selected as a member of the homecoming royalty court, I guess I'd have to admit I'm in that category. And while I want to downplay that, I will be honest that there is part of me that was proud I was finally liked by my peers. After spending four years in hell, (3rd-6th grade...and see previous blog posts) it was nice feeling cool...even if that was only in my own mind. I attribute being popular to having quite possibly the coolest, most fun best friend ever. I was popular by association. Left alone, I'd probably still be the weirdo. 

Many people thought I was stuck up in high school. But I really wasn't...or didn't intend to be. I was actually kinda shy. Believe it or not, until I really become comfortable around someone, I am often quiet and reserved, which can often be mis-interpreted as stuck up. I don't recall ever feeling as if I was "too good" to speak or hang out with anyone. Truth be told, you were probably way cooler than me and I would have in some way benefited by hanging out with you. But keep in mind that I had the most awesome BFF and didn't really need other friends. Well...I did need other friends, but as far as finding qualities in friends such as camaraderie, loyalty, trust and late-night talks that included lots of cheese dip, stupid movies, the making of a few mixed tapes and a few Purple Passion wine coolers...well...that role had been filled. But with that said, over the years, I have obtained other very close friends and will argue with you that I have the absolute best friends in the world. My best friends could beat up your best friends. And my best friends are so awesome - their hair whips itself back and forth. Take that Willow Smith.  

No matter what anyone says, everyone takes a certain guilty pleasure when the popular, cheerleader-type high school girl grow up...and gets...fat. It's like a train wreck - you don't wanna look - you know you shouldn't look - but you just can't help with being amazed. I may not be smarter than a 5th grader - but I've gained enough weight over the last 13 years to equal a 5th grader. Not only that, but I've violated every adult stepping stone which would qualify me as "normal". Kids = 0. Marriages = 0. Houses bought = 0. Career path = unsure. Wow. I am a walking time bomb for all sorts of jokes. So, go ahead. Laugh. And while you're at it - here are some pics for your viewing pleasure. 

  1994 - 14 years old - Freshman Cheerleader

This was about the time my love affair began. With Velveeta. 

1996 - 16 years old - Prom

...and pre-hair color

1996 - 16 years old - Homecoming Royalty Court

Hey...don't make fun. Fur coats were a must for any Homecoming Royalty Princess. If I could go back in time, I'd totally rock a leather studded jacket instead. 

Oh yeah...and my hair color? Sun-In. Remember that product?

1997 - 17 years old - Junior/Senior Cheerleader

...currently re-calling a certain dance we did as a squad that may have included a stripper slap and some suggestive thrusting. Then again, if you are from my home-town, there is no need to further explain.

1998 - 18 years old - Senior Pic

Herringbone necklaces - not just for gangstas. In 1998, a senior was no senior pic without one. 

And things have changed over 13 years. 

2006 - 26 years old

Yup...that's me. Far right. (Ewww)

2007 - 27 years old - Panama City Beach

The strangers kept yelling something about "Shamu". Not real sure what that means...

2009 - 29 years old - New Orleans

Chubby girls shouldn't take pictures in front of a French donut shop. 

P.S. No, I'm not preggers. 

Christmas Day 2010 - 30 years old

I am so completely envious of people who are pear-shaped as opposed to my apple-shaped figure. Most pear shaped gals don't have so much facial fat. My fat is distributed - 50% being in my face and 50% being around my mid-section. I have the waist size of a trucker. And I totally rock a muffin top. 

...but everyone loves the top of a muffin.

Point to this story:

I can not think of a better candidate for CMT's reality show, "I Want To Look Like a High School Cheerleader Again." Because I do (insert toe touch here) like...totally...wanna look like one again.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Fat girls can run?! (and other forms of insanity)

Last season of the Biggest Loser, I was THAT girl. You know the one...the girl who eats a Snickers, sitting in front of the tv while cheering on the contestants of the Biggest Loser. Yeah, that was me.
I remember watching as the potential contestants ran a mile. I saw them sweating and one girl even passed out. I thought two things:
1. How hard could running a mile actually be?
2. I never wanted to find out.

Running was never, and I do mean never, in my personal vocabulary. I had close friends who would run and I would, on rare occasion, appease them by going for a light walk with them. And I considered that a major accomplishment. But, I always secretly wondered why they would want to torture themselves by running when walking was a perfectly acceptable form of ancient transportation. And to actually want to run in races...and marathons...oh no. I could rest assure that I would never be that girl. I always said "I'm more of an aerobics or dance video-type exerciser". Truth be told - I rarely did anything. There are the kind of people who attend church on holiday's - Easter, Mother's Day, Christmas, to call themselves "church-goers". Well....I was that kind of exerciser. A few times a year, and I thought that was plenty to be considered an "exerciser". Did I know that was insane? Of course. Was I still in denial? Maybe. I've heard that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. Wow. That has been my life quote for the past 7 years.

There are few things I think I am incapable of doing. I'm pretty positive. I'd like to think I can do anything if I set my mind to it. However, I have always thought "I could never run." And that was one thing I sincerely believed. I was from the school of thought that believes athletes are born, not made. Runners are born, not made. (Especially those who torture themselves by running...uh...miles.) And I was not born into this elite group of individuals.

I have always liked the ideas of setting goals. I am what you call a dreamer, not a doer. I love that I'm a dreamer, but hate that I usually lack the "git 'er done" aspect to attaining my dreams and goals. But this January, I set some specific goals. One of my goals was to run a 5K. (Why would I do this to myself? I still don't know.) So...long story short, me and my best friend decided we would embark on this journey together, even though we live two hours away from each other. We decided to use the Couch to 5K Training Plan (more on that later). During our first week, we were to run something like 60 seconds and then walk for 90 seconds for a combined total of 20ish minutes. I thought I would DIE. It was so evident to me at that point that I was seriously out of shape. I couldn't even run 60 seconds? How would I ever run a mile? Or the dreaded 5K (3.1 miles)? This was impossible. I already felt defeated and hadn't really even started.

But I pushed myself. I had never, up to this point, pushed myself before. Ever. If I felt the slightest bit of discomfort or pain, I'd just give up. I was a pro at giving up. But, I wasn't giving up anymore. The first week was awful due to shin splints and calf pain. I skipped a few workouts - I won't lie about that. There were two weeks I just didn't even do a single run. But I always picked it back up eventually. I may have veered off my path a few times, but I got back on. I did more than the required 20ish minutes. I do more like an hour each time. And I honestly got to that point where I enjoyed going to the gym (some days more than others). And (insert huge gasp here) actually enjoyed running (it's more like light jogging, but running sounds so much more hard-core - lol.) I do not worry about running fast. I am concerned with endurance. I am focused when I go to the gym. I know what I want to accomplish that day, and I usually tackle it and do it.

Today was a huge milestone for me. After not working out a single day last week (see previous blog post), I dreaded today. But, today - I RAN A WHOLE MILE WITHOUT STOPPING. I did it! Me - chubby girl. Me- girl who could barely run 60 seconds without fainting. This makes me want to shout to all the people who think they can't do it - YOU CAN! Because I was that girl. And I did it. And I will keep going.

Countdown to first 5K run: 37 Days

Sunday, March 20, 2011

I was defeated by casseroles

Sunday is my official weight in day. I'm not sure how you can hate an inanimate object...but I certainly can. Damn you scale. 

Last week I was pleased with a four pound loss. This week, I'm back up two pounds. Still an overall loss, but it still stinks. Officially 195. (Will I EVER get out of the 190's?) However, I did not expect to loose any weight this week. I have my excuses. And they are darn good ones if I do say so myself. I will share them with you:

1. I was sick. In today's cold-hearted world, that doesn't mean much. But, let me explain...I was sick. Bad. Think flu-like symptoms. It started with the worst sore throat of my life (and I do mean that) for about three days. I tried every home remedy known to man: honey and lemon tea, hot toddy (a lemon, honey, tea and whiskey mixture known to cure the common, it just makes you "feel" better) and other remedies. But nothing - and I do mean nothing - sufficed. UNTIL...Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey Ice Cream. You may think I'm saying that just because it tasted good. And it did. But it actually helped relieve some of the horrible pain of my sore throat. Then, the sickness turned into horrible throbbing head-ache pain due to hacking up a lung. (Yes I went to the doctor. Yes I got some medicine. Yes I feel better. But it took a good week). I couldn't even try to force a work-out. My days this week were spent sleeping - or attempting to, then dragging myself out of bed and going to work. At a restaurant. Eww. So, excuse number one. And should you get sick - I am telling you - Ben and Jerry's. That mess works!

2. I get off work around 11 p.m. or 12 a.m. each night from a restaurant. And I get SOOOO hungry. And while I've managed to make great progress in not choosing something from the McDonald's menu every night, I still eat late. And I know this can't be good. (And this week, that "something late" usually consisted of something quick at home: a cheesy hot dog, Cheetos, or Pizza Rolls.) Ah. I confess. 

3. A very devastating loss happened to a very dear friend of mine this week. The kind of loss that makes you question God's motives. I've never had someone so close to me be hurt in such a deep way. And I've never wanted to ease someone's pain more in my life. It was utterly catastrophic. And when things of this magnitude happen - well, to put it bluntly - I didn't give a crap about working out or eating right. I just wanted to be a comfort to my friend in any way possible.

4. I came face to face with my dieting enemy - home-made casseroles. I was shamefully defeated.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Danielle: So not cool

Mary Cates. My elementary/middle school bully.

I realize calling her out now makes me appear sorta stalker-ish. I SO do not stalk her. (Although I think we may be "friends" on facebook. Not entirely sure. Probably not for long though, should she, or anyone she associates with read this.) 

There was a girl I went to elementary school with who was the most popular girl. I can remember wanting to BE just like her. DRESS just like her. ACT just like her. For goodness sake...carry the same lunch box as her. Because I thought in doing that, it would make me popular and cool. Not because I had some weird obsession with her. I just admired how cool everyone else thought she was. She got the attention. And she drew crowds. She was the "it" girl of elementary and middle school. When I was in elementary and middle school...I WAS NOT COOL. No part of me was even remotely cool. I had braces. And huge glasses. And a bad 80's perm. And garage-sale clothes. Oh yeah...and I was super skinny. I felt so awkward and weird. I didn't quite fit in with the cool kids, but then I wasn't exactly a complete weirdo either. I was stuck in the middle. Sure, I had friends. But, I was the girl who invited the popular girls to my birthday party and desparatly hoped they would attend. (And I hoped they would not be offended by the trailer park I lived in.) 

My mom worked so hard, probably harder than I even know, to provide her best for me. And sometimes her best was Wal-Mart shoes and sometimes her best was something better. I remember when Keds shoes were in-style. I had somehow obtained a coveted pair and when they became worn out, my mom couldn't afford a replacement pair. Instead, I got the Dollar Store version. I was so desperate to hang on to my Keds which I felt were my license into "coolville". So, what did I do? I pulled the blue Keds logo off the back of the shoe and glued it to my new pair of fakers. I was desperate. Part of the reason I was so desperate was because this one girl, Mary Cates, would make fun of me. I'm sure she is a very nice person now...well...sorta sure. And she probably has no idea she had such an impact on my childhood. But I remember once she lowered herself to actually ride on the public school bus that I rode home on each day. She made some rude comment about my clothes and me being poor. I can remember feeling so low; like I did not even have enough strength to defend myself or come back with a biting, witty comment. And that's how I remember her. Yet I still remember thanking God that she would even let me talk within the same crowd as she. And now, as an adult, I wouldn't trade my Dollar Store white canvas shoes for her Keds anyday. I'm glad I know what it means to want. I'm glad I know the sadness of wanting to be popular and feeling like it was unattainable. It has made me more sensitive to people, and especially children. When I see kids with braces or acne or glasses, (or a bad 80's perm), I always tell them how pretty or handsome they are. And the strange thing is - they really are to me. I think "awkward" kids are beautiful. I want every child to feel "pretty", "cool", or "cute". I can spot these kids out like I had geek-a-vision. And I love them from the depth of my heart. And when I see other children being mean to them - the Momma Bear comes out in me and lets out an equally mean growl. I am quick to address them on their attitude - even if they are strangers. Because the little one they are picking on is me - when I was a kid. And I'd do anything to reassure a child that they are in fact precious, beautiful, cool, and super-awesome. 
This was me at the absolute peak of my ugly phase.
I wasn't even sure how to smile with braces.

Now, I know I have made fun of people many times in my life. And there may be some blog out there with my name on it and how I single-handly ruined someone's life (ok, that was a bit dramatic). And should that be true - I AM SORRY. 

I have poked fun at the girl in Wal-Mart who knew better than to wear leggings that didn't cover her butt. I have made fun of people who can't dance and laughed hysterically while I took pleasure in their lack of skills. I made fun of a plumber when he bent down in front of the sink and exclaimed "Hey, crack kills!" And I have certainly took extra time making fun of others who have ever particullarly hurt me or anyone I love. And while I want this blog to remain light-hearted and funny, I do not want to say what I did was right. However, between my sarcasm and often times harsh, yet witty remarks, lies a very vulnerable and senstive gal who has no desire to tear town others or be that dreaded mean girl. I can have a good laugh just like everyone else. But when it comes to being downright mean, I'd like to think I try hard not to be mean. I try to see the good in everyone. I forgive quicker than I will hold on to a grude. (Perhaps when I should be reminding myself that while everyone is worthy of forgiveness, it is often times necessary to forgive...and then move on from that person.) 

But you know what really gets my...well...they say..."underwear in a bunch"? (That's code for: gets me super pissed off.) It is when people, namely, children, get their spirit crushed by hurtful words or actions. Sometimes we can be so cruel as adults, that we teach children it's okay to tear others down. I don't mean laughing at someone at Wal-Mart because they wore something funny. I mean the kind of meanness that cuts to the core of someone's spirit - bullying. And something that can be remembered for quite some time. 

I hope we can all become adults who, simply put, aren't mean.

And Mary Cates, I forgive you.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Foods that make you go "mmmmmm"

Many moons ago when I first tried to jump on the healthy food band wagon, (and I've jumped off a few times...currently back on) I have found these to be some delicious snacks and dare I say "diet foods". But, any chubby girl will tell you, if it isn't good, we won't try it. So, whatever it's worth, the following win my "so good a chubby girl would eat it" award.

Monday, March 14, 2011

To my big-breasted friends: I salute you.

The girls. The grand te-tons. Thelma and Louise. The Pointer Sisters. Boobies.

Call them what you will, but anyone with a cup size D or larger will tell you that it's hell to try and find a good sports bra. Heck, it's hell trying to find a good bra period. For one thing, why is it impossible for there to be cute, inexpensive bras out there for bigger gals? Why do we only get white, black and various versions of beige while the smaller girls get polka dots, lace, leopard print and every other color imaginable? And to find a good bra, like, the kind that will actually last a month or two, we have to spend upwards of around $25-50 for a good one. Forget the cute bra racks at inexpensive stores. For us, it's the bra section at Macy's or Dillard's. And that still doesn't ensure that the wire won't poke us or that other bra catastrophes won't occur. When you"blessed" as they say - the last thing you want is a padded bra. But then, you are taking a major risk should it rain or get cold. Being a big-breasted woman can really suck the fun right out of trying to be fashionable.
And then you have the horror of trying to find a sports bra to maintain the girls while you get your Zumba on. Let me say this - I have yet to find a good sports bra. Probably because I can't spend an arm and a leg (and a breast) on one. I have been wearing layers at the gym like I'm preparing for a frost. I wear my regular bra, an ineffective sports bra, the tightest tank top I own and then a t-shirt. That's four efforts to keep me supported without hurting myself. It's crazy.
So...just for fyi purposes, and to hopefully help you, here have been my recent attempts at locating a good sports bra:
This bra is a Danskin sports bra/tank. It has a sports bra liner-type thing inside. (The lining in mine ripped). However, there is one thing I like about this: It has a small pocket on the upper right corner that can hold your MP3/I-pod if you don't have one of those handy arm cuffs (which I don't). So, I although the lining is ripped in mine, I have still kept it for it's good use of holding a MP3 player. I think this bra was about $17 or so. So a fortune was not lost.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

The flu and four pounds

So...I awoke this morning (with only 3 hours of sleep) with a shooting pain in my right ear. I still have no idea what it is, but am hoping this Excedrin will fix it. I've had body aches, sore throat, slight fever and shooting ear pain. Flu? Probably. And my tonsils are red, inflamed and are the size of....well I can't think of anything they are the size of, but they are too freakin' big. I have been trying to figure out why I can't sleep, but am still tired. That's because Excedrin has caffeine. And I've been taking it at night over the last few days because I've felt like shiz-niz. (Did I use that correctly in a sentence?) I am...lack of sleep and all...posting to my blog. Why? Because I'm the idiot who doesn't read labels and wasn't aware caffeine was a part of my attempt to actually relieve pain and get some sleep. To add insult to injury - I am waiting tables at this point in my life...and today I am working a double shift. UH! I am all about being positive. But so far today...this day sucks. 

Now...WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH BEING A CHUBBY GIRL? I will tell you. Sunday morning is my weigh-in day. With all that sucks today...I have good news...I lost four pounds. (If I had a horn, I'd be tooting it right now.) I passed up McDonald's for those four pounds. I passed up cheesy hot dogs. I ate a friggin' salad at Applebee's when my BFF offered to take me out to dinner...while she, who is 9 months preggers, told me she weighs 2 pounds more than I do (and she's carrying another human life inside of her womb!) I made a brief visit to hell sans "Evil Trainer Dude" (see previous post). I went to the gym and ran when I am sure I probably had a light version of the flu. So, I will brag on myself. And I won't feel guilty about it. (But I may be secretly wondering right now if you, reader who is reading this, thinks I am over-confident or conceited...then again... I've spent YEARS feeling insecure, so I'm going to feel good about this. And not apologize for it.) 

At my heaviest, I weighed 205. Let me say it for you: OH. MY. GOODNESS. Yes, I will admit that I hit the big 2-0-0. I think every girl has had the conversation with her best friend that goes a little something like this - "Girl, if I ever get that big - just go ahead and shoot me." Well, 200 pounds was my "shoot me now" weight. I never, in my thought my eyes would see anything starting with a 2 on the scale. I did try Weight Watchers (which I enjoyed but currently can't afford) and got down to around 188ish or so. I have yet to enter back into the 170's. That's my first small goal. Just get in the 170's. Then, I'll make another goal. Since January, I have stayed around 199-197. To get on the scale this morning and see 193 felt really good. They say "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." I think two things about that: (1) They never ate cheese fries dipped in spicy ranch dressing and (2) I kinda feel that way today. (-: 

Some may say, "I can't believe you are telling the world how much you weigh!" You know, I never understood women's obsession with not telling how much they weigh. HELLO! People have eyes. I can understand lying to a blind person who can't see your tubby-tubbyness, but to a person with vision capabilities, you could say you weigh 170 or 200 pounds and their eyes will still see the same thing - a person who might not need to frequent Dunkin' Donuts quite so often. So - I'm putting it out there.

Go team 194!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Reasons why you know it's that time....weight loss time

1. When you start getting those "oh, she's gotten big" looks from the home-towners at your local maw-and-paw grocery store.

2. Someone looks through your old high school yearbook and says "no, really, where are you at in here? That's not you...doesn't look anything like you." Gee...thanks.

3. When your jeans are so tight they've caused the most horrible fashion crime ever known to modern man: Camel toe...if you don't know, I'm not explaining.

4. Your calves have gotten so big that your loose-fitting socks make an indention in your lower leg/cankle (formerly known as ankle) area.

5. You're afraid to put on control top panty hose because one fatal move and your stomach will unfold like a cracked open can of crescent rolls. (Thank you Jen Lancaster and your memoir "Such a pretty fat")

6. FUPA...enough said. Look it up.

7. What used to be one, distinctive chin has now become more of a bumpy chin trio...oh God...the only thing worse could be a double-chin/facial hair duo.

8. When you go to extra drastic measures to over-do your hair and make-up to make up for how utterly fat and gross you feel. (Hey, but at least you've got cute hair, right?)

9. When your dad tells you he thinks your not married because you are "chubby". Ouch. For real.

10. When the words "small" and "medium" sound like foreign language.

Evil trainer-dude

Since I've been going to the gym, I usually stick with my Couch to 5K Plan on the good 'ole treadmill. But, the other day, I thought I would spice up my routine by attending one of the classes. I knew there was a "Body Sculpting" class at 5:15. "Oh, good," I thought, "I really could use some muscle definition and I need to do some weights." Boy. Was. I. Wrong. Let me give you a break down of my inner monolouge:

5:00 p.m. - The nice, good-looking trainer told me that the class "isn't that hard". I asked him point blank, "Can out-of-shape fat girls do it?" He said yes. I can believe him. He's a trainer. He wouldn't lie to me. He wouldn't make me look stupid in front of a class.

5:10 p.m. - Finishing up my mile jog/walk. Almost ran a whole mile today without stopping. BIG accomplishment for me. Guess I better get some cardio in since this is a body sculpting class that will involve weights and little cardio.

5:12 p.m. - Dang, this class is full. Dang, all the spots in the back are taken...I will have to be up front where I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Dang, there are a lot of skinny people in here. Dang, why are there mirrors everywhere? I don't need a reminder of how fat I am while I'm working out. The mirros must be for the skinny bitches who like to look at themselves. I want to be a skinny bitch.

5:15 p.m. - I really like this trainer guy. Wonder if he's single???

5:20 p.m. - I hate this evil trainer.

5:22 p.m. - We are using the stepper. I thought the step class was at 6:15. Where's the weight training portion of this?

5:24 p.m. - He just said we are about to get started. Um...was that an evil joke? Beads of sweat are falling from my brow...and you're telling me that was the warm-up?

5:25 p.m. - Just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Kill me now.

5:30 p.m. - Hate the class. Like the music selection.

5:33 p.m. - The music changed to a Kesha Cole sappy love song. I'm having a Jillian Michaels emotional moment. Am I tearing up right now? Oh my gosh. I am.

5:35 p.m. - I will never trust a trainer again. "Not that hard" = "you may pass out at any point during this exercise."

5:36 p.m. - I glare at the trainer. Yeah, I stopped. What are YOU going to do about it? (I am now doing the "white people dance move" where I tap my feet back and forth. It's all I have energy for at this moment.)

5:37 p.m. - I am bent over in some weird postion and he's asking me to bring my kness up to my chest. Yeah right. The spare tire around my waist makes that IMPOSSIBLE.

5:38 p.m. -Are you kidding me?!

5:40 p.m. - Glad I'm wearing my black pants instead of the gray ones...because I'm definitely sweating in places where I want no one to see...

5:41 p.m. - The lady next to me is 60 years old and has a better butt than me. Wonder if she is wearing spanx?

5:42 p.m. - The girl in front of me has no rhythm. He. He.

5:45 p.m. - Oh. My. Gosh. What time does this class end?

5:46 p.m. - Contemplating a fake emergency phone call and leaving.

5:47 p.m. - Fake an emergency phone call and leave.

5:48 p.m. - Have to walk through ALL the people in the class to leave. I feel glaring eyes that say "You aren't finishing?" No, I'm not. I made it through 30 minutes of hell. That's enough for one day.

5:49 p.m. - Can't wait to see that evil trainer dude tomorrow and give him a piece of my mind. And I have no desire to know if he's single or not.