Exactly how many diets are out there? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? Or, millions? I am putting my money, and my cellulite, on millions. I am truly amazed, and not just a little frightened, with how many different ideas and versions of how to lose weight you can find. One little Google search and you'll see what I mean.
I have been trying to lose weight for what seems like forever and I have reached out on more than one occasion to "experts." I have been told to eat more. Eat less. Only eat this. Never eat that. I have had a lot of people telling me lately to eat six or seven times a day and I'll magically lose pounds seemingly overnight. However, anorexics never eat and look how skinny they are. OK..I'll admit...bad comparison, but my point is no matter what someone tells you there is someone doing the exact opposite and getting fabulous weightloss results.
I am not a great dieter...I'll admit this. I enjoy eating what I like. My theory? This is life. None of us is getting out alive so we might as well enjoy ourselves, right? Now, don't get me wrong. I don't sit around and eat bags of cookies and drink a two liter of Pepsi every day. I actually eat relatively conservatively. Case in point: dinner last night was 4 oz of chicken breast, 2 cups of steamed broccoli and half a cup of macaroni and cheese (gotta keep the 7 year old happy). I drank a shit ton of water yesterday and I had no soft drinks. Today I have had some yogurt, some coffee with a bit of fat free creamer and a handful of Cap'n Crunch (gotta keep the inner 7 year old happy). I have an apple, peanut butter, a cheese stick and a Luna bar awaiting consumption. There is nary a Snicker's bar on the menu and yet I still cart around enough ass for me and all my friends. I swear I look in the mirror and see the robot Aunt Fanny from the movie Robots.
I just wonder when someone is going to clear up all the confusion. Do I eat meat? Don't eat meat? Sugar? No sugar? Bread? No bread? Are eggs good or bad? How often do I exercise? 30 minutes three times a week, right? Wrong. You need to work out, cardio only every day for an hour. And, on the second full moon of the year you hop one foot from noon until 2 and then turn in four circles and eat a loaf of bread with mayonaise and cayenne pepper.
ARGH!!! It is so confusing and so frustrating. It really is no wonder our society is obese. All these evil fitness people are out there cramming the latest Ab Roller, Sauna Belt, Gazelle, and my personal favorite, the Shake Weight, down our throats trying to convince us that withabsolutely no effort whatsoever (!) we will all have six pack abs! Just send 87 payments of $19.95 and you will be beach ready the moment the UPS guy delivers the box! Hurray!!
I guess I will just keep plugging away. I enjoy the fitness classes I am in and that keeps me going every week. I guess I just need to learn to accept my body as it is. I need to learn to be nice to it and maybe it will thank me by slimming down.
But, just to be safe, I should probably order a Shake Weight.
As an aside: I want to point out that in what has to be the best example of irony EVER -- the current ad displayed on this blog is for the South Beach Diet. I'm just sayin'.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Burpees = Death
It isn't all that often I sit down and whine. Well...not too often...I mean, I don't do it every day. Seriously. I don't. Really. OK...maybe sort of often.
Damn. I hate this self-awareness crap. I prefer to be blissfully unaware of my faults. Same way I prefer to be blissfully unaware of the number of calories in a Snickers bar; but, I digress.
My original point was to whine...let's get on with it...
Those of you who know me are aware of the fact that I have really, really bad knees. Knees that make it abundantly clear the level of disdain they possess for the weight and girth of the ass they are required to support each time I heft myself from a seated position. Knees that have been through one surgery each and possess scars and screws and, if that wasn't quite enough thankyouverymuch, are arthritic. Oh yeah - and for the record - I am only 35. And have arthritis. 35. Arthritis.
Yeah. It sucks.
Anyway, last night I finally made it back to tae-kwon-do and Crossfit after two weeks away. I would think Matt, our fabulous instructor, would take it easy on me and ease me back into things. I would think wrong. Frankly? I think he decided torture was an appropriate way to ensure I think twice the next time I decide to go out of town for work. Or get sick. You know what? I am most certainly thinking. I am sure my new boss will understand when I tell her I can't fly down to San Jose because Matt will take it out of my hide in sweat as soon as I return. Right? Stephanie?
Anyway, here is the Crossfit workout from last night. Don't let the simplicity fool you. It sucks ass. HARD.
21 - 15 - 9
(I do believe the numbers are arbitrary and selected just for maximum frustration. Have you ever tried to stop counting at an odd number when your brain isn't working due to lack of oxygen? Harder. Than. You. Think.)
So - you do 21 chin-ups, 21 burpees (here is a link for those of you who are wondering what in Hades a burpee is) and 21 of these things where you throw a medicine ball at the wall with one arm from several feet away. It has a name, but I'll be damned if I can remember it. If you survive doing that you start over and do it again 15 times and then 9 times.
What does all this have to do with the whining and the knees? Well, it is the reason I was both unable to walk and unable to sleep last night. My knees were ON FIRE thanks to those burpees. Eric offered to buy me a motorized scooter. I was thisclose to finding an infomercial for the Little Rascal and taking him up on it. Instead I took a poorly timed sleeping pill and went to bed. I am so groggy today that I could feed coffee directly into a vein and I would still be half asleep.
On a more serious note -- I am having a hell of a time staying motivated to work out. All I seem to get is pain. I have more muscle than I have had in years, but my weight isn't going down and that was the whole point because I have to get weight off to get my knees to quit with all the bitching. I am not wearing smaller clothes. I still don't look good naked. Seriously? Bulimia is starting to look appealing.
Damn. I hate this self-awareness crap. I prefer to be blissfully unaware of my faults. Same way I prefer to be blissfully unaware of the number of calories in a Snickers bar; but, I digress.
My original point was to whine...let's get on with it...
Those of you who know me are aware of the fact that I have really, really bad knees. Knees that make it abundantly clear the level of disdain they possess for the weight and girth of the ass they are required to support each time I heft myself from a seated position. Knees that have been through one surgery each and possess scars and screws and, if that wasn't quite enough thankyouverymuch, are arthritic. Oh yeah - and for the record - I am only 35. And have arthritis. 35. Arthritis.
Yeah. It sucks.
Anyway, last night I finally made it back to tae-kwon-do and Crossfit after two weeks away. I would think Matt, our fabulous instructor, would take it easy on me and ease me back into things. I would think wrong. Frankly? I think he decided torture was an appropriate way to ensure I think twice the next time I decide to go out of town for work. Or get sick. You know what? I am most certainly thinking. I am sure my new boss will understand when I tell her I can't fly down to San Jose because Matt will take it out of my hide in sweat as soon as I return. Right? Stephanie?
Anyway, here is the Crossfit workout from last night. Don't let the simplicity fool you. It sucks ass. HARD.
21 - 15 - 9
(I do believe the numbers are arbitrary and selected just for maximum frustration. Have you ever tried to stop counting at an odd number when your brain isn't working due to lack of oxygen? Harder. Than. You. Think.)
So - you do 21 chin-ups, 21 burpees (here is a link for those of you who are wondering what in Hades a burpee is) and 21 of these things where you throw a medicine ball at the wall with one arm from several feet away. It has a name, but I'll be damned if I can remember it. If you survive doing that you start over and do it again 15 times and then 9 times.
What does all this have to do with the whining and the knees? Well, it is the reason I was both unable to walk and unable to sleep last night. My knees were ON FIRE thanks to those burpees. Eric offered to buy me a motorized scooter. I was thisclose to finding an infomercial for the Little Rascal and taking him up on it. Instead I took a poorly timed sleeping pill and went to bed. I am so groggy today that I could feed coffee directly into a vein and I would still be half asleep.
On a more serious note -- I am having a hell of a time staying motivated to work out. All I seem to get is pain. I have more muscle than I have had in years, but my weight isn't going down and that was the whole point because I have to get weight off to get my knees to quit with all the bitching. I am not wearing smaller clothes. I still don't look good naked. Seriously? Bulimia is starting to look appealing.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Who says getting fired can't be AWESOME!
The last several weeks have been such a whirlwind of emotion and change that my head hasn't stopped spinning for more than a second or two. I am currently sitting in a cube in an office in San Jose, California having just completed my first week of employment with a brand new company. Not only am I new to the company and the position, but the position itself is new to the company. I am tasked with building out a successful effort around nothing more than a basic job description and a kick-ass idea.
No pressure. Right?!
This kind of "fly by the seat of your pants" stuff is what I thrive on. I have found myself in this type of role on more than one occasion. I think that makes me some kind of sado-maschocist, but whatever...I suppose I can live with that. I've been called worse.
The whole journey started about 5 weeks ago when I was relieved of my responsibilities at my last job. The company, of course, shall remain nameless and faceless and...just to be really safe...let's all pretend they are a figment of my imagination. Alrighty?
Anyway, the job was really a poor fit and if I had been smart I would have turned it down in the first place because I knew going in that I would be something akin to oil in their water. Hardcore IT headhunters don't become corporate yes (wo)men easily. In my case, my body vehemently rejected their attempts at assimilation. In gratitude to my body I have provided it with cookies....and an occasional brownie.
So, I find myself heading off on what we shall all, heretofore, refer to as Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. I can't wait to see where it goes! I have this feeling I am about to have some of the most challenging and exciting experiences of my career...I'll keep you posted...
No pressure. Right?!
This kind of "fly by the seat of your pants" stuff is what I thrive on. I have found myself in this type of role on more than one occasion. I think that makes me some kind of sado-maschocist, but whatever...I suppose I can live with that. I've been called worse.
The whole journey started about 5 weeks ago when I was relieved of my responsibilities at my last job. The company, of course, shall remain nameless and faceless and...just to be really safe...let's all pretend they are a figment of my imagination. Alrighty?
Anyway, the job was really a poor fit and if I had been smart I would have turned it down in the first place because I knew going in that I would be something akin to oil in their water. Hardcore IT headhunters don't become corporate yes (wo)men easily. In my case, my body vehemently rejected their attempts at assimilation. In gratitude to my body I have provided it with cookies....and an occasional brownie.
So, I find myself heading off on what we shall all, heretofore, refer to as Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. I can't wait to see where it goes! I have this feeling I am about to have some of the most challenging and exciting experiences of my career...I'll keep you posted...
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Repost - Death by M&M
This is a repost of a blog I put up back on February 11 -- I took it down because some ass goblin with no sense of humor took offense. I am reposting it because my life has changed in such a way that my blog is no longer under the watchful eyes of said ass goblin; well, they may be watching, but I no longer care. However, I made a few minor changes. I'm snarky...not evil...or stupid.
At the beginning of the year I was very excited because I got accepted into a weightloss program NOTE: this is a totally generic weightloss program that may or may not exist in real life and any persons mentioned with generic titles as being associated with the generic weightloss program that may or may not exist may or may not be real people. In order to get in you have to meet all these requirements and agree to meet with a health coach and personal trainer so many times a week and keep a food journal and stuff - they even provide all of it for you. I was STOKED! It was going to be AWESOME! I was going to get totally skinny in no time and have six-pack abs and a firm butt and NO JIGGLY PARTS!!! Whee!!!
I lasted less than a month.
It really had nothing to do with not being motivated. I was really, really, REALLY motivated. Honest! I was supremely motivated right up to the point that my health coach gave me a lecture because I ate 10 peanut M&Ms one day. Ten. TEN! ONE ZERO. Not 10 bags. Not 10 handfuls. TEN INDIVIDUAL PEANUT M&Ms. During the entire lecture I managed to smile serenly while imagining all kinds of horrible ways to torture and maim her. Preferably, using a peanut M&M.
I know it would be one of those really weird things to have an overweight health coach. I get that the whole point is for us fat people to get a skinny health coach to help us figure how to be skinny, too. However, there is something irritating about getting guidance from someone who has clearly never met a treadmill she didn't like and has no idea what it means to struggle with weightloss. I think I would rather have a health coach who used to be fat or is still maybe just a little bit fat. You know? Someone who can RELATE. Someone who has sat down on the sofa in front of the television and somehow managed to consume an entire package of raw cookie dough in one sitting. Instead? I got Miss Buns of Steel.
I got someone who told me that I should treat myself from time to time with non-fat frozen yogurt with fresh fruit topping. Someone who advised that when eating Mexican food I should decide how many chips with salsa I am going to eat and then keep a tiny corner of every chip in order to keep count. All I could think at that moment was, "Are you shitting me? You want me to be so freaking MILITANT that I have to count my chips? And, while we are on the topic, exactly when did nonfat yogurt become a TREAT? I'd rather binge and purge you psycho."
I quit the very next day. Since starting my Tae-Kwon-Do class back in the summer I have managed to lose about a pant size, a fair amount of body fat and much of my self-loathing. I have also enjoyed every minute of it. Granted, there are times (like today) that my muscles hurt so badly I want to hire someone to kick Master Edgington's ass...well, to TRY to kick Master Edgington's ass...but, most of the time it is great fun and unless I pass out in class from lack of food no one gives a flip what I did or didn't eat that day.
I think I'll stick to the TKD. Someday soon I will be both skinny AND capable of kicking butt. And when I am? I plan to find that militant health coach and kick her ass. While eating Peanut M&Ms.
At the beginning of the year I was very excited because I got accepted into a weightloss program NOTE: this is a totally generic weightloss program that may or may not exist in real life and any persons mentioned with generic titles as being associated with the generic weightloss program that may or may not exist may or may not be real people. In order to get in you have to meet all these requirements and agree to meet with a health coach and personal trainer so many times a week and keep a food journal and stuff - they even provide all of it for you. I was STOKED! It was going to be AWESOME! I was going to get totally skinny in no time and have six-pack abs and a firm butt and NO JIGGLY PARTS!!! Whee!!!
I lasted less than a month.
It really had nothing to do with not being motivated. I was really, really, REALLY motivated. Honest! I was supremely motivated right up to the point that my health coach gave me a lecture because I ate 10 peanut M&Ms one day. Ten. TEN! ONE ZERO. Not 10 bags. Not 10 handfuls. TEN INDIVIDUAL PEANUT M&Ms. During the entire lecture I managed to smile serenly while imagining all kinds of horrible ways to torture and maim her. Preferably, using a peanut M&M.
I know it would be one of those really weird things to have an overweight health coach. I get that the whole point is for us fat people to get a skinny health coach to help us figure how to be skinny, too. However, there is something irritating about getting guidance from someone who has clearly never met a treadmill she didn't like and has no idea what it means to struggle with weightloss. I think I would rather have a health coach who used to be fat or is still maybe just a little bit fat. You know? Someone who can RELATE. Someone who has sat down on the sofa in front of the television and somehow managed to consume an entire package of raw cookie dough in one sitting. Instead? I got Miss Buns of Steel.
I got someone who told me that I should treat myself from time to time with non-fat frozen yogurt with fresh fruit topping. Someone who advised that when eating Mexican food I should decide how many chips with salsa I am going to eat and then keep a tiny corner of every chip in order to keep count. All I could think at that moment was, "Are you shitting me? You want me to be so freaking MILITANT that I have to count my chips? And, while we are on the topic, exactly when did nonfat yogurt become a TREAT? I'd rather binge and purge you psycho."
I quit the very next day. Since starting my Tae-Kwon-Do class back in the summer I have managed to lose about a pant size, a fair amount of body fat and much of my self-loathing. I have also enjoyed every minute of it. Granted, there are times (like today) that my muscles hurt so badly I want to hire someone to kick Master Edgington's ass...well, to TRY to kick Master Edgington's ass...but, most of the time it is great fun and unless I pass out in class from lack of food no one gives a flip what I did or didn't eat that day.
I think I'll stick to the TKD. Someday soon I will be both skinny AND capable of kicking butt. And when I am? I plan to find that militant health coach and kick her ass. While eating Peanut M&Ms.
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