Just posted the numbers for my first weigh-in.
Now I'm going to cry myself to sleep.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
My Plan for Success
I know in order for this weight loss journey to be successful I need to be realistic, so I've come up with a plan (I can almost hear my friends Lynda and Elma saying "You...come up with a plan...no surprise there!) I LOVE my plans, they give me peace, help me stay structured and on task...and often go flying out the window when I get distracted by shiny things or when I drive past a carnival and absolutely HAVE to stop!
I digress...
I have a simple plan for success...Step 1 - Stop eating crap, Step 2 - Portion control, Step 3 - A weekly "cheat" day, Step 4 - Exercise.
But no...I'm so crazy about planning things out the Nth degree that even my plans have plans:
Step 1 - STOP EATING CRAP - No more McDonald's, Taco Bell or bakery stops. At least for a while. Make NOT eating fast food a habit...It takes 21 days to break or form a habit so for the first 30 days NO fast food. If after sticking to my plan I decide I want a Angus mushroom and swiss burger from McDonald's (a whopping 770 calories, 40g of fat and 59g of carbs) I just need to remember to eat with my brain as well as my mouth. Instead of eating the entire sandwich I'll eat half of it...which brings me to...
Step 2 - PORTION CONTROL - I need to cut my food consumption by half..maybe even 2/3. I eat WAY too much food (as do most Americans.) Part of my plan within a plan is sheer will power. I can no longer go back for a second helping. The next part of my plan (which I think is borderline genius) is to fool my mind into thinking it's getting more food than it is. I have a habit (as most emergency service workers do) of gobbling up my food as quickly as possible. So I will eat slower, I will force myself to lay my fork down between bites (so I don't just shovel the food in), I will actually chew each mouth full at least ten times, and finally I'm going to use a smaller plate and a heavier fork. Smaller helpings on a smaller plate will (I hope) trick my brain into thinking I'm still eating a full dinner plate and the heavier fork will fool my mind into thinking there's more in each bite. I will continue to allow myself 1 (and only one) Coke per day because life without Coke is unimaginable to me. I will, however, make sure to log my daily Coke fix into my meal planning and calorie counting.
Step 3 - WEEKLY CHEAT DAY - I have to be honest and realistic with myself. If I go on a eating plan that doesn't allow me any of my favorite foods I will fail miserably. So one day a week I will allow myself a cheat day. I still have to count the calories, I still have to log the food in my journal, but by golly if I want to go get a snow cone with Bella I won't feel guilty about it. I will simply get a small instead of a large and make sure to not go outside of my allotted calorie limit for the day. Biscuits and gravy...HELL YEAH...but 1 instead of 4, a small amount of pasta with a large salad instead of a large plate of pasta with a small salad.
And finally Step 4 - EXERCISE - Awe, exercise, my old nemesis...how you taunt me with your muscle tone and happy endorphins.
I will exercise, but I'm going to start slow. I know the first two weeks of the diet will be my most rapid weight loss, so for the first 2 weeks I don't plan on exercising..not so much as a jumping jack or leg lift.
Beginning week 3 I will start walking, 1/2 mile a day. No more, no less. I love walking for exercise, but I've always tended to go too fast too soon which always ended up with my muscles being so sore I could barely move the next day (and once I even got a stress fracture in my foot.) Not this time, this time I'm following the "slow and steady wins the race" theory. I will be a turtle to other's hare. The first week I will walk 1/2 mile, the first couple days I will walk at a leisurely pace, then I will gradually increase my pace. The second week I'll bump it up to a full mile, the third week 1 1/2 miles...gradually increasing each week so I don't hurt myself.
I will break out my old Sweating to the Oldies DVD and spend an hour with my old friend Richard Simmons several times a week. After a few weeks I'll start intermixing my exercise videos and bring something with a bit more cardio into it. When I hit the 50 lb weight loss mark I'll start adding those annoying body sculpting videos that promise flat abs and an ass so tight that you can bounce quarters off of it.
Okay, I'll be honest, I don't expect to ever have that tight of a butt again, but it would be really nice to not have it look like a giant kettle of cottage cheese!
I will start toning my arms with 1 lb weights and gradually build up to heavier ones, and at some point I'm going to start doing sit ups and pushups. I may only be able to do one each day, but with perserverance that number will eventually increase.
So there you have it...my plan within a plan. The main thing I want to do is to set myself up to succeed, and I think (hope) that this plan gives me the tools to do it!
Food for Thought
I am not a stupid person, but from time to time I have been known to do some incredibly dumb things. Last night is a perfect example.
Every since I decided to do my Dieting for a D.A.D. fundraiser I have been fixated on food...okay, obsessed is probably a more accurate word because I think I have eaten anything that didn't run away screaming in terror.
I tried to rationalize my behavior by telling myself it was perfectly natural to want to taste all my favorite foods (and I do mean ALL my favorite foods) before I started the diet. Of course there was that annoying little voice in my head saying, "Really...because you honestly think you are NEVER going to be able to eat anything you like again?" Then I imagined this wee, tiny voice shaking it's head, heaving a long dramatic sigh and going back to the far recesses of my brain muttering "What an IDIOT" the entire way.
So I ate.....
and I ate...
then I ate some more...
and I washed it all down with my beloved Coke.
Last night I walked into work with enough food to feed my entire crew, but I wasn't sharing, no way no how. This was MY food, the last time I would be tasting it for a very long time. I brought in leftovers from Thursday's dinner; homemade chicken fingers (from a boneless skinless chicken breast), double dipped in flour then fried to a beautiful golden brown. Don't judge, I tried to be healthy, really I did...did you not see the part about them being skinless?
Anyway...
Since this was my self proclaimed grazing night I decided to have them just the way I like them, topped with steaming hot homemade milk gravy.
Did I mention the chicken breast were proceeded by three Gus pretzels (a St. Louis icon in fresh pretzels)? I didn't...oh well I did...and they were goooood...nice and salty just the way I like them!
Of course the salty pretzels made me very thirsty...good thing I stopped and picked up that 44 oz frozen Coke. Awww...sweet nectar of the Gods!
Dinner was followed closely by desert...jelly beans...LOTS of beautiful, bright, happy looking jelly beans. In truth, I don't really like jelly beans too much, but did that stop me...HELL NO! Those cheerful clumps of jelled sugar started screaming my name from the minute I walked in the store. Actually, the were a bit annoying...buy ME...eat ME...I'm telling you the sugary bastards deserved to die!
About half way through my dinner I got a horrible brain freeze from the frozen Coke...the icy pain as it froze my throat felt like a hundred needles were stuck in my esophagus. Yep, it was a solid 8 on the brain/throat freeze scale so I did the only thing I could think to do...I drank a regular Coke to wash it down and relieve the pain. Don't laugh...I was at work and was responsible for saving lives. Hard to do that when you're dying of a brain freeze!
Well friends, as they say...Karma's a bitch.
About half way through my shift (hanging my head in shame because I didn't really eat all that food in the first 6 hours of work...it was more like the first 2 hours)...anyway, halfway through my shift the food decided I had to pay for the savage way I devoured it. It wasn't pretty...it wasn't quick...and it certainly wasn't fun...and because I like you I won't give any more details.
I think I've learned my lesson...MODERATION...and by that I don't mean take short breaks as I eat everything in sight.
Now that I have regained my senses (and lost 5 pounds in about 15 minutes) I realize that I will have chicken fingers again, just not on a weekly basis. I'll have gravy, and biscuits, and I WILL have Coke...but not every day and not huge servings.
I won't however, have jelly beans...because I really do think they're kind of gross.
Every since I decided to do my Dieting for a D.A.D. fundraiser I have been fixated on food...okay, obsessed is probably a more accurate word because I think I have eaten anything that didn't run away screaming in terror.
I tried to rationalize my behavior by telling myself it was perfectly natural to want to taste all my favorite foods (and I do mean ALL my favorite foods) before I started the diet. Of course there was that annoying little voice in my head saying, "Really...because you honestly think you are NEVER going to be able to eat anything you like again?" Then I imagined this wee, tiny voice shaking it's head, heaving a long dramatic sigh and going back to the far recesses of my brain muttering "What an IDIOT" the entire way.
So I ate.....
and I ate...
then I ate some more...
and I washed it all down with my beloved Coke.
Last night I walked into work with enough food to feed my entire crew, but I wasn't sharing, no way no how. This was MY food, the last time I would be tasting it for a very long time. I brought in leftovers from Thursday's dinner; homemade chicken fingers (from a boneless skinless chicken breast), double dipped in flour then fried to a beautiful golden brown. Don't judge, I tried to be healthy, really I did...did you not see the part about them being skinless?
Anyway...
Since this was my self proclaimed grazing night I decided to have them just the way I like them, topped with steaming hot homemade milk gravy.
Did I mention the chicken breast were proceeded by three Gus pretzels (a St. Louis icon in fresh pretzels)? I didn't...oh well I did...and they were goooood...nice and salty just the way I like them!
Of course the salty pretzels made me very thirsty...good thing I stopped and picked up that 44 oz frozen Coke. Awww...sweet nectar of the Gods!
Dinner was followed closely by desert...jelly beans...LOTS of beautiful, bright, happy looking jelly beans. In truth, I don't really like jelly beans too much, but did that stop me...HELL NO! Those cheerful clumps of jelled sugar started screaming my name from the minute I walked in the store. Actually, the were a bit annoying...buy ME...eat ME...I'm telling you the sugary bastards deserved to die!
About half way through my dinner I got a horrible brain freeze from the frozen Coke...the icy pain as it froze my throat felt like a hundred needles were stuck in my esophagus. Yep, it was a solid 8 on the brain/throat freeze scale so I did the only thing I could think to do...I drank a regular Coke to wash it down and relieve the pain. Don't laugh...I was at work and was responsible for saving lives. Hard to do that when you're dying of a brain freeze!
Well friends, as they say...Karma's a bitch.
About half way through my shift (hanging my head in shame because I didn't really eat all that food in the first 6 hours of work...it was more like the first 2 hours)...anyway, halfway through my shift the food decided I had to pay for the savage way I devoured it. It wasn't pretty...it wasn't quick...and it certainly wasn't fun...and because I like you I won't give any more details.
I think I've learned my lesson...MODERATION...and by that I don't mean take short breaks as I eat everything in sight.
Now that I have regained my senses (and lost 5 pounds in about 15 minutes) I realize that I will have chicken fingers again, just not on a weekly basis. I'll have gravy, and biscuits, and I WILL have Coke...but not every day and not huge servings.
I won't however, have jelly beans...because I really do think they're kind of gross.
Friday, September 28, 2012
47 Hours
Tonight I woke up in a panic...an absolute panic. What the hell was I thinking, I can't do this...there is no way I can do this...I'm going to humiliate myself, my family...I'm setting myself up for failure.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about I decided to start a new fundraiser for the purchase of my daughter Brandi's diabetic alert dog Hope. Confused? Perhaps I should start at the beginning...well, not quite the beginning, more like the middle of Brandi's story.
My daughter Brandi has Type 1 Diabetes. Type 1 Diabetes is different from Type 2 diabetes in that it's not caused by poor eating habits, being overweight or under active. Type 1 Diabetes is an autoimmune disease where the body attacks itself and basically kills the pancreas so it no longer produces insulin. There is nothing that can be done to prevent T1 Diabetes, there's no cure...there's just lots and lots of insulin injections...and blood sugar level checks...everyday for the rest of her life.
With careful control most people with Type 1 Diabetes can live a (fairly) healthy, long life. Unfortunately Brandi has a second autoimmune disease called Addison's Disease. Addison's destroys the adrenal glands, which unfortunately helps the body absorb injected insulin. The combination of T1 Diabetes and Addison's Disease has made Brandi's body resistant to her insulin injections, which means her diabetes is nearly impossible to control.
Brandi has had 38 hospitalizations in the last two years, the majority of them in the Intensive Care Unit. Diabetes has taken a terrible toll on her body, caused many, many complications, it has weakened her body but not her spirit.
In August 2011 during one of her frequent hospitalizations we were told Brandi needed a pancreas transplant, a type of transplant which our insurance still considers experimental and will not cover. The estimated cost of this transplant is between $300,000 - $500,000. That's a LOT of money, an overwhelming amount of money...but we're going to make this happen. We MUST make this happen because losing Brandi is not an option.
In January it became clear that a transplant was going to take a while to get (believe it or not she needs to get healthy enough to survive the transplant), so Brandi's doctor recommended told us we needed to get her a diabetic alert dog (D.A.D.) We were told a D.A.D. would save her life, and after a lot of research I became a believer. Of course our insurance wouldn't cover the cost of a life saving service dog either (no big surprise) so now we had a lot more money to raise. We've actually got our diabetic alert dog Hope a month ago and I must say, she is everything we were promised and more. She is, in a word, AMAZING.
It seems as though our life has become a constant rotation of hospitals, fundraisers, doctors visits...and we're still so far from our goal. Although we have two years to finish paying for Hope we want to get it done as soon as possible so we can go back to our main goal...raising money for a transplant.
For the last year I have been saying I'd do anything to save my daughter's life...ANYTHING. So after giving it a lot of thought I decided to put my money where my mouth is.kill two birds with one stone.
The truth is that I horribly overweight, about 100 pounds overweight. I need to lose weight, I WANT to lose weight, but I have absolutely no willpower....none...nada...zelch...zip.
So here's where my brilliant plan was born. I would diet, publicly diet in exchange for sponsors. Anyone who pledged to donate $1.00 for every pound I lost would be added to a Facebook page I created to track my progress. I call it Dieting for a D.A.D. (kind of catchy, don't you think?) I went a step further though, I promised to not only post my weekly weights, but to also post pictures of the scale so I would be held accountable.
Anyway, that is what led to tonight's almost panic attack. I am going to post my weight, my TRUE weight all over Facebook. I haven't told anyone my true weight in almost....well, I don't know that I've EVER told anyone my true weight. Of course my doctor knows, but only because the rat-bastard insist on weighing me any time I set foot in her office. Just kidding about her being a rat-bastard, she's actually a lovely woman who offers nothing but encouragement on my quest.
So that's where I am, in a near panic over my public weight loss fundraiser. I'm afraid I won't be able to do this, I'm a stress eater and my life is overflowing with stress. I needed to find a new way to deal with stress so I thought I'd blog about it instead of eating it into oblivion. Easier said than done considering as I sit here writing this I'm drinking a Coke and finishing off a box of snack cakes.
Damn...this is going to be hard!
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about I decided to start a new fundraiser for the purchase of my daughter Brandi's diabetic alert dog Hope. Confused? Perhaps I should start at the beginning...well, not quite the beginning, more like the middle of Brandi's story.
My daughter Brandi has Type 1 Diabetes. Type 1 Diabetes is different from Type 2 diabetes in that it's not caused by poor eating habits, being overweight or under active. Type 1 Diabetes is an autoimmune disease where the body attacks itself and basically kills the pancreas so it no longer produces insulin. There is nothing that can be done to prevent T1 Diabetes, there's no cure...there's just lots and lots of insulin injections...and blood sugar level checks...everyday for the rest of her life.
With careful control most people with Type 1 Diabetes can live a (fairly) healthy, long life. Unfortunately Brandi has a second autoimmune disease called Addison's Disease. Addison's destroys the adrenal glands, which unfortunately helps the body absorb injected insulin. The combination of T1 Diabetes and Addison's Disease has made Brandi's body resistant to her insulin injections, which means her diabetes is nearly impossible to control.
Brandi has had 38 hospitalizations in the last two years, the majority of them in the Intensive Care Unit. Diabetes has taken a terrible toll on her body, caused many, many complications, it has weakened her body but not her spirit.
In August 2011 during one of her frequent hospitalizations we were told Brandi needed a pancreas transplant, a type of transplant which our insurance still considers experimental and will not cover. The estimated cost of this transplant is between $300,000 - $500,000. That's a LOT of money, an overwhelming amount of money...but we're going to make this happen. We MUST make this happen because losing Brandi is not an option.
In January it became clear that a transplant was going to take a while to get (believe it or not she needs to get healthy enough to survive the transplant), so Brandi's doctor recommended told us we needed to get her a diabetic alert dog (D.A.D.) We were told a D.A.D. would save her life, and after a lot of research I became a believer. Of course our insurance wouldn't cover the cost of a life saving service dog either (no big surprise) so now we had a lot more money to raise. We've actually got our diabetic alert dog Hope a month ago and I must say, she is everything we were promised and more. She is, in a word, AMAZING.
It seems as though our life has become a constant rotation of hospitals, fundraisers, doctors visits...and we're still so far from our goal. Although we have two years to finish paying for Hope we want to get it done as soon as possible so we can go back to our main goal...raising money for a transplant.
For the last year I have been saying I'd do anything to save my daughter's life...ANYTHING. So after giving it a lot of thought I decided to put my money where my mouth is.kill two birds with one stone.
The truth is that I horribly overweight, about 100 pounds overweight. I need to lose weight, I WANT to lose weight, but I have absolutely no willpower....none...nada...zelch...zip.
So here's where my brilliant plan was born. I would diet, publicly diet in exchange for sponsors. Anyone who pledged to donate $1.00 for every pound I lost would be added to a Facebook page I created to track my progress. I call it Dieting for a D.A.D. (kind of catchy, don't you think?) I went a step further though, I promised to not only post my weekly weights, but to also post pictures of the scale so I would be held accountable.
Anyway, that is what led to tonight's almost panic attack. I am going to post my weight, my TRUE weight all over Facebook. I haven't told anyone my true weight in almost....well, I don't know that I've EVER told anyone my true weight. Of course my doctor knows, but only because the rat-bastard insist on weighing me any time I set foot in her office. Just kidding about her being a rat-bastard, she's actually a lovely woman who offers nothing but encouragement on my quest.
So that's where I am, in a near panic over my public weight loss fundraiser. I'm afraid I won't be able to do this, I'm a stress eater and my life is overflowing with stress. I needed to find a new way to deal with stress so I thought I'd blog about it instead of eating it into oblivion. Easier said than done considering as I sit here writing this I'm drinking a Coke and finishing off a box of snack cakes.
Damn...this is going to be hard!
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