Friday, December 31, 2010

By George...

I think we've got it!!

After months of feeling like crap. After more trips to more doctors than I can count. After taking medical tests that would make anal probing aliens say, "why didn't we think of that?" After all of my own miserable whining...


Here it is:

In spite of some sort of "vestibular disorder" in my right ear, we think that the majority of my vertigo was being caused by my migraine medication. How did we surmise this? I had to STOP taking the medication for one of the tests. Within days of stopping the medication, the vertigo disappeared and hasn't returned since. Needless to say, I won't be taking that medication any longer - migraines or no.

It's wonderful to feel in charge, mostly, of my own body again.

I normally don't make New Year's Resolutions. I save them for my birthday instead.

This year, however, I am. I am not making resolutions about goals regarding losing weight or being organized or spending more "quality time" with my family. I've already made those. I'm making resolutions about HOW I'm going to get where I'm going physically.

Nothing complicated or profound, but here they are:

* I resolve that I will NOT eat out in a restaurant until my weight returns to the point I was at before I was hit with the vertigo.

* I resolve to lay off the SIMPLE carbohydrates until I've dropped two more sizes and even then to only consume them in MODERATE amounts.

* I resolve, barring illness or injury, to attend my favorite classes at my gym. That means I will be there for Body Flow on Mondays, Yoga on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mat Pilates on Wednesdays and Fridays, and Body Pump on Sundays.

* I resolve to get back to work with my trainer as well.

* I resolve to try one NEW class per month to see if I fall in love with something different.

* I resolve to start the training course I was physically unable to take in January when it starts again in April.

I guess that's it. I think that if I work off of this list, I'll get where I'm heading. It's sort of like a MapQuest for the next year of my life.

I've got to wonder what obstacles life and my ass are going to throw in my path. All I know is that, "If you find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere." - Frank A. Clark

What are YOUR plans?

Saturday, December 18, 2010

The past couple months...

have sucked sweaty monkey balls.

I have been a prisoner in my own body and, for the most part, in my own home. The vertigo has kept me from driving anywhere. I have been entertaining myself by spending inordinate amounts of time watching television, surfing the internet, and EATING.

What do I do when I get a chance to get out of the house? Lately, I've gone to the doctor and gone out to eat. Not good. Not good at all.

I never thought I'd get to the point where I missed the gym, but I'm there. I begged my hubby to take me the other day and managed to get in about 15 - 20 minutes of cardio before I felt like I was going to puke up a lung. It was better than nothing, but not nearly least not enough for me. I've lost a ton of endurance and a lot of strength too. Like I said...this sucks.

The good news is that I'll be heading back to ENT #2 this coming week for a follow-up. He should have all my test results by now. Maybe he'll have a plan too. The better news is that I haven't heard anything back from him as of yet about the tests. Considering the fact that bad news travels fast, I'm taking that to mean that I do NOT have a brain tumor or something equally awful.

In the meantime, I've taken to chewing ridiculous quantities of sugar free gum in order to keep myself from eating so much. It seems to be working. I've lost three pounds since I took up the habit. Granted, I'm still up 5 for the past month, but still.

I'm maintaining hope that my doctors are going to be able to solve this problem once and for all. I'm lucky enough to have excellent doctors. It's now not just me vs. my's me AND a fair crop of the Houston Medical Center vs. my ass. I'm confident we'll win.

Monday, December 6, 2010

"What do you get ...

when you guzzle down sweets?
Eating as much as an elephant eats.
What are you at getting terribly fat?
What do you think will come of that?"

I don't want to be Augustus Gloop!

The break's over, ass. No more rivers of chocolate for you.

My apologies to those of you...

who have been whining, bitching, and moaning about my not writing anything recently. (You know who you are.)

Here y'all go:

I haven't been writing because I've been trying to avoid whining, bitching and moaning myself. For the past month or so, I've spent more weekdays than I can count in doctor's offices. I've spent so many hours having ultrasounds, MRIs, CT scans, and tests I can't even name that I'm quite certain my insurance company is going to put a contract out on me soon.

Today's a day off from all that. I'm at home. Alone. Watching television and doing laundry. I would like to go to the grocery store but I have to wait until my husband gets home. I've had more than one doctor tell me that I shouldn't drive while I'm feeling dizzy. I'm feeling dizzy so I'm not going to drive. Simple, but it sucks monkey balls all the same.

Working out has become nearly impossible. The rhythmic motion of ANY sort of cardio makes me so motion sick that I'm in the bathroom puking up my lungs within a couple of minutes. Yoga is a joke. If I bend over and then stand up again, the world goes grey and I end up on my ass. (I want to shrink it, not break it.) I managed to pull off a couple of sets of pushups today, but the vertigo's been significantly worse since I did. I'm hoping that's because I'm not allowed to take any Dramamine right now - in preparation for ANOTHER test that they're doing on me tomorrow.

If I were being careful about what sorts of food I was shoving in my face, I'd still be losing weight. Unfortunately, the more time I spend not being able to do much of anything besides sit around feeling sorry for myself the more I'm tempted to shove food in my face as some sort of self-defeating method of entertainment. This has been going on for about two months now, I think? I know I lost weight the first couple of weeks...then held stable for a I'm up five pounds in the past few weeks since Thanksgiving. Damn those leftovers! This does NOT bode well for meeting my goal if I don't get things under control in a big hurry.

So, what to do? Time to get things back under control. There's no sense wearing the Bodybugg when all I'm doing is sitting on my ass and/or being hauled around to doctor's all day. I can, however, get back on track using the Bugg website to log my food. I can also STOP eating things like leftover crackers and brie from Thanksgiving and Celtic sea salt caramels.

As we all know, we can't undo the past, but we can change our future by making smart decisions in the present. I can't change the fact that I ate a lousy breakfast today, but I CAN make myself something healthy for lunch...and have a protein shake for a snack later (instead of chips and salsa or some such nonsense)...and I CAN grill up some chicken and clean some lettuce or steam some veggies for all of us to have a healthy dinner (instead of ordering a pizza.) Sometimes it's easier said than done, but the way I've been feeling lately, I think it'll be easier done than said.

I'm not through with you yet, ass.

Friday, November 26, 2010

The PARTY isn't over...

until Patrick pukes!! I can say, definitively, that nobody has ever vomited during one one of my Thanksgiving get-togethers before. Before this year, that is. I have to wonder if by making some of the foods just a wee bit healthier I enabled my young nephew to gorge himself so far beyond the point of capacity that his stomach could no longer contain the load.

It doesn't matter. It was funny. Or, I guess it was funny to everyone except poor little Patrick, that is. I have a new Thanksgiving goal, now too: MAKE PEOPLE EAT UNTIL THEY VOMIT...LIKE A ROMAN ORGY!

This wasn't an "out with the old - in with the new" year. I kept a lot of things exactly the same. My sausage and apple stuffing is NOT to be tampered with...nor is my cranberry sauce. We still fried one of the turkeys, but for the roasted bird I rubbed it with olive oil and basted it with pan juices instead of butter. Nobody, including myself, noticed a difference. I cut back the butter and cream in my traditional mashed potatoes to no detriment. On the other hand, I made a separate batch of mashed potatoes with black truffle salt, brie, and more black truffles. I kept my creamed corn recipe as is...which is made with just about an equal ratio of bacon to corn to cream to butter (with a dash of black pepper) but I completely revamped the string beans (no more French's fried onions - yes, I admitted it.) and made a sauce with toasted almonds, shallots and a balsamic vinegar reduction. I left the bleu cheese out of the cucumber salad all together...but by accident, not deliberation. I simply forgot to add it. Nobody noticed.

All in all, it was a successful holiday. I'd seriously considered cancelling because I've been feeling so lousy. I would not have been able to pull things off this year without a LOT of help from my family. We didn't get to the Christmas decorating like we normally do. My general rule is to have the guests hanging lights and ornaments while I'm cooking. This year, I put everyone to work peeling vegetables instead. It would have been impossible to get everything done without everyone pitching in.

One hundred percent healthy or no, I have much to be thankful for this year...including a significantly smaller ass.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Thanksgiving is a week...

and a few hours away. With one exception, I have cooked dinner for my family and assorted and sundry friends, friends of friends, and the occasional stranger every year since I was 16 years old. In spite of, or maybe because of, all the current stress going on in my life, I fully intend (and yes, I know what "they" say about the road to hell) to do it again this year.

Considering the number of times I've cooked the meal...often for groups of people pushing 4 dozen or so, I have the whole routine down to a science. I shop. I do all the prep work (with the exception of peeling potatoes - which I've managed to delegate to my younger son in the past few years - SUCKA!) I cook. While I cook, my husband and guests decorate my home for Christmas. After dinner, I rest. My guests clean up. It's a system that's practically written in stone. It's perfect. I love it. I look forward to it most of the year!

This year, I'm a little worried the whole darn thing might go up in flames though...

What's the problem?

The problem is that I DO NOT USE RECIPES!!

Here I close to meeting my goal I can actually SEE the finish line and I've come to this giant hurdle.

But seriously, what's the problem?

Well, the things I cook (without using recipes) would give Paula Deen a heart attack...or a fit of envy. Last year alone, I went through SIX POUNDS OF BUTTER!!! Yes, you read that right. 6. Six. SIX. POUNDS. OF BUTTER. My creamed "corn" alone has about a pound of butter...along with a quart of heavy cream and a couple of pounds of bacon...oh yeah, and there's some corn in there too.

We generally roast one turkey and FRY another...and, depending on the number of guests we're expecting, sometimes BBQ a bunch of extra turkey legs.

My mashed potatoes have nearly an equal ratio of potato to butter to cream (plus black truffle salt.)

For that matter, I can't think of anything besides the cranberry sauce, that doesn't have copious quantities of butter. I make up for the missing butter in the cranberry sauce with lots and lots of sugar, orange juice and a touch of (never mind, it's a secret.)

Even my salads stretch the boundaries. The green salad has tons of marinated artichoke hearts....TONS and the cucumber salad has tons of bleu cheese....TONS. They could be worse, but I know they leave a lot to be desired on the health front.

And therein lies the problem. I KNOW that my traditional Thanksgiving meal is anything but healthy. I need to fix it without ruining it for my family or myself. It will ruin it for my family if I take away all their favorites or change them to the point of being unrecognizable. It will ruin it for me if I have to stress about using "recipes" and measuring this and that.

Is there a way to fix it and make it healthy WITHOUT ruining it for all of us? Right now, I'm leaning towards writing it off as a "once a year - don't worry about it" sort of thing...but I'm afraid that sort of thinking will get me and my ass in all sorts of trouble. There are a LOT of "once a year" sort of things in life. Any suggestions?

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Just when I thought...

I couldn't be any more freaked out about this stupid liver thing, my cardiologist throws a wrench in the works. The ultrasound of my liver is scheduled for 1:30 tomorrow afternoon. My cardiologist's office made the appointment for me. For some reason today, however, my cardiologist called both me and my husband (left messages for both of us) wanting to know why he hadn't received the test results yet. All I could DO is call his office and say, "the doctor hasn't gotten the results because I haven't had the test." All I could THINK is, "why does he have his panties in such a wad? If this test was such a big deal, why didn't the schedule it RIGHT AWAY?! Maybe it is a BIG DEAL and they were SUPPOSED to schedule it right away!"

I guess the good news is, come what may, I should know something...soon.

The better news is....I made some super lean turkey chili for dinner tonight, so, in spite of my ass wanting to console my fears about my liver with a trip to McDonalds for a SUPER-SIZE McRib value meal and a hot caramel sundae, I'm golden. I love turkey chili!

Sunday, November 14, 2010

This is me and...

my buddy, my pal, Adam Funke. He's the man that had the fit of brilliance that became Real Life Fitness and Health...otherwise known as my "fat camp." I'm thankful that Google found him for me because his program changed my life. By the way, Adam, I forgive you for not calling me back that time your cell phone died and Christy still deserves a raise (even if you already gave her one!) ;)

**Disclaimer** It is ME (not Laila), in the picture...straight from a workout. A sincere thanks goes out to the photographer who was kind enough to leave my ass out of the picture. My ass is still not entirely photo worthy...but it's on the way there!

Saturday, November 13, 2010

This is going to be....

a long, boring story...mostly about my current health issues. Reading it will sort of be like being trapped with your crazy Aunt Mildred at an Easter luncheon listening to stories about her blood sugar fluctuations, ingrown toenails, and halitosis. Fortunately for me, I'm still writing this blog as some sort of cathartic journaling for those of you that expect me to be entertaining or offer some sort of useful might want to just skip this post..that or SUCK IT UP!

Anyhow, for THREE weeks now...I've been mostly sitting around my house. Mostly sitting around my house and occasionally being driven to the medical center by my husband or my mother for one doctor's appointment or test or another. I've been having a very serious PITY PARTY. It sucks.

It all started out with the really bad allergy attack that came on as soon as I crossed the state line into Texas on the drive home from fat camp in Utah. I have determined, without a doubt, that I am allergic to this state. Someday, God-willing, we'll get to move....good economy and cheap housing be damned.

The allergy attack turned into a sinus infection. The sinus infection turned into an ear infection. I called my family doctor, but was unable to get an appointment right away with him and had to see one of his physician's assistants. The physician's assistant put me on antibiotics for my ear infection, Nasonex, and told me to stop taking the Benadryl (that's been working for me my antihistamine of choice for DECADES!) and to start taking Zyrtec-D. I figured, I haven't been to "physician's assistant school" I listened.

My ear infection cleared up (seemingly)...but I continued, as instructed, to take the Zyrtec-D. A few weeks later, my ear started to hurt again. It felt similar to the pain, all those years ago, of a diving injury. I was (am) also having issues with severe vertigo and can hear everything from my heartbeat to my sound of my breathing inside my head...strange stuff. This time, I was able to see MY DOCTOR. Strangely, he found no signs of an infection. NONE. He sent me to my Ear, Nose, and Throat (ENT) doctor.

The ENT tested my hearing. It's improved significantly since my diving days. He looked in my ear and also didn't see any signs of infection. He gave me a preliminary diagnosis of "patulous eustachian tubes"...which means, in a nutshell, that the tubes in my ears that are supposed to open and CLOSE stay open all the time. Then he sent me off to a cardiologist to find out why I'm getting so dizzy because he thought it might have something to do with my blood pressure being low.

So off to the cardiologist I went. I had an EKG. I got to take a "Holter" monitor home and wear that for 24 hours. My mother and I had an amusing discussion because we were certain that they'd misspelled "halter"...because of how you wore the damn thing...but it turns out it's someones name. Oh well...can't correct everyone all the time. On one day I had an echocardiogram. THAT reminded me how long I'm capable of holding my breath. I think I was making the nurse nervous.

On another day, I got to have a "tilt test." The test consisted primarily of spending about an hour and change being velcroed to a hospital table held upright at about 80 degrees, like Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs. I spent the time chatting with my cardiologist about diving and spear-fishing while they did various and sundry stuff to me, including but not limited to dosing me with nitroglycrin and trying to make me faint. I didn't faint. The only time I felt dizzy was when they initially moved the table. I tried to explain that if they wanted to make me dizzy they needed to move the table back down and back up again...quickly...but, apparently, that wasn't the point of the test.

Based on the results of all these tests, the cardiologist has determined that there isn't a hill of beans worth of anything wrong with my heart. He told me that my vertigo is most likely caused by something in my inner ear and that I should return to the ENT. Go figure. FML.

I have yet to return to the ENT. I'm frustrated with my ear, nose and throat doctor for sending me to the cardiologist in the first place and seriously considering trying to find another doctor. Mostly though, I'm distracted and moderately freaked out by the "surprise" news I got from the cardiologist. "Surprise" in, "Oh by the way, when we were doing your echocardiogram, we noticed a CYST ON YOUR LIVER." You need to get that checked promptly. So, now I get to go see another doctor. And now I get to get another test. And now I have another health issue to worry about. I would sincerely like to NOT have any sort of problems with my liver. I would sincerely like to NOT have any health problems AT ALL, but that's probably too much to ask.

I'm having a little bit of trouble counting my blessings right now, but I'll try. My knees aren't bothering me anymore. My back isn't bothering me anymore. I am the ONLY person in my house that doesn't need glasses. According to the ENT (whom I'm still very irritated with)...I can supposedly hear again too (although I wish I couldn't hear my own heartbeat). We still have private health insurance. I am almost five years thyroid CANCER FREE!

So, like I said, I've been sitting around having a pity party. I've been going down the "worst case scenario" road....the "oh crap, what if I have cancer in my liver?" road. I've been sitting around feeling really sorry for myself. I've been using the vertigo as an excuse not to work out. Yes, I get really dizzy. Yes, I might fall off the friggin' treadmill. (What's new?!) Yes, it's not really safe for me to drive. (How about hauling my fat ass upstairs and using the thousands of dollars of equipment I have at my disposal at home?) If none of that, how about not using everything else as an excuse to "snack" on just a few too many simple carbs. Yeah, I know. I've been letting my ass take the reins. No more. It felt too good to get up off of my ass the past two days and do something. (We painted.) It's time to get back to work on my ass. I'll cross the rest of the bridges when I come to them.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

For a long time...

I've been trying to figure out what I want to be when I "grow up." Considering the fact that I'm pushing the dark side of 40 (it's LOOMING!!)'s really something I should know.

When I was younger, I KNEW. I fell in love with scuba diving and wanted to share my love of diving with everyone and anyone that would don a mask and a pair of fins and hop in the water with me. I taught scuba diving until my ears gave out on me. I miss it. I can still dive, but teaching scuba requires healthier ear drums (with much less scar tissue) than yours truly is stuck with.

Since becoming a "retired" scuba instructor, I've been wandering around fairly aimlessly...I've been first and foremost a wife and a mother...I've owned my own businesses and managed them for others...but, mostly, I've missed teaching people about something that I love.

A few years ago, one of my very best friends suffered a debilitating stroke. She lost most of the use of her right side and most of her ability to communicate. In many ways, her husband lost his wife, her children lost their mother, and I lost my friend. She's still with us, but she's not the same. It was, and is, heartbreaking.

I've spent a lot of time helping my friend since her stroke. I've read as much about physical and occupational and speech therapy as I can find. Initially, it was a struggle for her to transfer from her wheelchair to the toilet and back again. A few weeks ago, I took her to the hair salon. We left the wheelchair at home!! It was a triumphant moment for both of us. She's come a long way.

That triumph made me realize idea I've been fiddling with for a while, but hadn't put into play. I'm a good teacher. When I care about something (or someone) I'm good at explaining things. If I can't make my point one way, I'll make it another way. Perhaps this comes from being a difficult student myself?

Regardless, I've found a new passion...and, quite possibly, figured out what I want to "BE" when I grow up. The joy I find in helping someone relearn physical skills that once came easily to them is beyond anything I've ever experienced. I'm not certain if I have it in me to go back to school for long enough of a time to become an occupational therapist, but it'll be interesting to find out.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue working on getting ME healthy (I can't help anyone if I'm exhausted from hauling my giant ass around all day!)...and, as a segue to occupational therapy, plan to take a personal trainer certification course through NPTI. THAT should be interesting!! Assuming I can get medical clearance from my doctors (those darn ears again!)...I'm going to start the course in January. I'm hoping to drop at least 20 of my last 45 pounds prior to the start date. If being in a classroom full of twenty-something year old personal trainers to be isn't motivation to get my ass into high gear, I don't know what is.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

My husband LOVES...

black licorice. My older son LOVES "Dots" and my younger son LOVES "candy corn." Thankfully, all of these particular Halloween goodies make me want to blow chunks. Personally, I LOVE anything with CHOCOLATE or CARAMEL...preferably chocolate AND caramel together...with or without nuts. Guess what sort of candies we have in our house for Halloween?

If you guessed black licorice, Dots, and candy corn, you win. I win too! LOSE!!

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Biggest Loser...

is really starting to PISS ME OFF! Considering the fact that I have seen every single episode of the show (some more than once) AND at least one season of TBL Australia...most of them watched from the comfort of my couch at home with a bucket of fried chicken or a bowl of ice cream close at hand and the thought, "I could do that!" bouncing around in my head, my being a suddenly disgruntled fan is really saying something.

These are my "issues":::

1. The TITLE of the show. Yes, I know it's supposed to be a play on words. I know the "contestants" or whatever you want to call them are there to lose weight. There are no two ways about it, however, the words "BIGGEST" and "LOSER" are a none too subtle negative jab. What could they have called the show instead? I'm no advertising executive so, I don't really know...something a little more positive, maybe? Do you have an idea?

2. Jillian is no longer "Jillian." She's become a brand...and therefore a characture of her former self. She used to really seem to care about her team/the contestants/her clients/whatever you want to call them. Now, it just seems like she's going through the motions to sell her protein powder and diet pills. DIET PILLS??!!

3. Bob was always a weiner. Now, perhaps jealous of Jillian's financial success, he's trying not to be weiner. He's putting on a Jillian cape of "tough guy" attitude. It only serves to make him come off as a bigger weiner...and therefore MORE annoying.

4. Taking an extremely obese, sedentary, person straight off the couch and telling them to run a mile on concrete is, at least under most circumstances, a recipe for major injuries if not a heart attack or stroke. It's not only dangerous, it should almost be criminal. I don't know what sort of medical evaluation they put the contestants through before accepting them for the show, but part of it must be determining that they have that special metal bonded with their Hugh Jackman in Wolverine. My orthopaedic surgeon says, "fat people shouldn't do jumping jacks." He's right. There are so many ways to lose weight and get cardiovascular exercise without putting tremendous impact on your joints. How about swimming? How about biking? Why take the risk of injury? If you get hurt, it only sets you back. I've learned this lesson the hard way.

5. The numbers are unrealistic. By now, maybe some of you have read some of the "behind the scenes" interviews with past contestants too. I've read about them coming into the weekly weigh-ins on diuretics and laxatives...dehydrated to the point of delirium. Not good. Even if all of that is sour grapes, however, the numbers are STILL unrealistic...or certainly unachievable in real life. I lived the "fat camp" life for a month. We were on a strict 1200 calorie a day diet. We didn't cook for ourselves, so there was no easy way to obtain a significant number of additional calories. We were at the gym an average of 14 hours a day. Even the heaviest men there didn't hit numbers like they did on TBL....nowhere close. The average weekly weight loss that I saw for women was in the 3 - 5 pound range...often quite a bit less.

I'm home now and averaging 2 pounds or so a week. I'm always ecstatic...right up until I see the numbers on The Biggest Loser. When I see those, I feel, for a moment, like I'm doing something I should have exercised more or eaten less. AND that, more than anything, is why I'm pissed off at the show right now! I'm busting my ass. (Hear that, ass? You're busted!) I'm working harder than I ever have in my life. I'm eating more carefully than I ever have in my life. Then I sit down and watch a show that USED to motivate me and all of a sudden it's starting to make me feel like I'm not doing "enough." It's starting to make me feel like a "big loser." I don't like that feeling...because when I'm at the gym, dripping sweat on the elliptical machine, or staring down my reflection in the mirror in yoga while I hold "warrior 3," I feel like the "BIGGEST WINNER"....or maybe just the strongest one. I think it's time to change the channel.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Five months from...

today will be my fortieth birthday. Yes. I admitted it. I will be turning the big "4-0." I've never been one to make New Year's Resolutions. My "new year" is always marked by my birthday. When I turned 39 (otherwise known as the year of pushing the dark side of 40)...I told myself that I was going to dedicate the entire year to MYSELF. It's bad enough that my hair's been going grey since I was 17; the idea of being a fat and unhealthy forty year old is unacceptable.

The finish line is within reach. The math adds up. Five months. Forty more pounds to lose before I'm forty years old. It's taken a LOT of work, but so far I'm down 58 pounds from my maximum density...the weight I was at during the weeks after my thyroidectomy. Right now, I "only" have to keep up a loss pace of two pounds a week to stay on track. If I can do that, my body fat percentage will be back where it was when I was a slightly grey haired 17 year old. Not so bad, eh?

I saw two things today that stuck a cord with me....

"If you can't, you must. If you must, you can." - Anthony Robbins

Normally, Anthony Robbins annoys the hell out of me, but something about this quote got me. When I was trying to knock out my sets of pull-ups on the assisted pull-up machine this morning (3 sets of 20 at 1/2 my body weight)...the thought, "I can't!" entered my head. This quote got me through...because, you see, I must.

On a lighter note was the quip on the back of my trainer's shirt:


If that doesn't say it all, I don't know what does. Ass, I OWN you now! Mwahahahaha!

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Something really scary...

happened to me yesterday. I know it sounds silly, but for lack of a better way to describe it, I have to say, "I lost my mojo." I just didn't have "IT" in all. I didn't feel like going to the gym. I didn't feel like going for a walk. I didn't feel like vacuuming up dog hair. I didn't feel like doing dishes...or folding laundry...or changing sheets...or scrubbing showers. I didn't feel like doing ANYTHING. As far as food went, I certainly didn't feel like going to the grocery store. I didn't feel like grilling any more boneless, skinless, f***ing chicken breasts for meals throughout next week. I sort of felt like ordering a pizza or something...especially when I smelled the meatball sandwich (on garlic bread) that my husband made himself for dinner. I didn't order the pizza, but the thought was there...and like I said, it was scary. I didn't eat according to any sort of plan. All I can remember consuming yesterday was a countless number of protein bars (literally countless) and some fruit....could have been worse...could have been Papa John's....but not what I'd planned to do.

When I say I didn't feel like doing any of these things, I want you to realize that I DID NOT DO THEM. I sat in a chair all day and watched television and farted around on the internet. At one point, I summoned the energy to take a bath. All in all, I probably should have stayed in bed. I felt like I needed to stay in my body was drawing me to be in bed. I was beyond tired with no explanation and it was actually scary. I could see the writing on the wall...a few more days like that and I WOULD order the pizza...probably with a side of fries.

This morning, I felt different, however. I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed. I went to the medicine cabinet to grab my Synthroid and what did I find lurking (in a bottle of the exact same size and shape!!) where I expected them to be? A BOTTLE OF AMBIEN!! bring the mystery to a close....I don't think I lost my mojo yesterday after all. I think I accidentally misplaced it in a bottle of sleeping pills....the sort you're supposed to take...AT NIGHT...BEFORE BED...not in the morning in place of your thyroid medication!!

Ass, you thought you'd tricked me there, didn't you? Clever. Naughty. Turnabout's fair play. Just wait until Danielle hears about this!!

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

People have been...

asking ME for tips lately! It's more than a little strange. Back "in the day"...when I was rockin' my washboard abs and working all day in a bikini (yes, sometimes even a THONG! **sorry kids!**)...I understood when people would ask me for advice about health and fitness. But now?? Now, I've gone from tight size 16 jeans to loose size 14 jeans. I'm not knocking what I've accomplished, but I'm not exactly "there" yet. Yes, strange.

But, since people have been asking, I'll see what I can do. I'd like to think y'all know all the commonplace things...but I'll throw out my versions of them for what it's worth.

WALK. Don't just go for "walks." Don't just walk on the treadmill at the gym. Go out of your way to make every last trip you make from point A to point B by the longest possible route. Going from the couch to the fridge? Get there by way of the mailbox.

FIDGET. Throw out everything your Mommy told you about sitting still and move around...constantly. Get one of those giant inflatable "balls of doom" and use it for an ottoman. Bounce your feet on it while you're watching tv. Dance in the car. For that matter, clench and unclench your buttcheeks and any other muscle you can think of while you're in the car. For that matter, why are you in the car if you can be walking?

QUIT WASTING TIME WEIGHING YOUR FOOD. This concept is going to tick off some people I know and love. So be it. I own a food scale....a VERY expensive, super deluxe, digital food scale. I used it religiously for about 3 days then I lost patience with the whole idea. I didn't have my food scale with me when I was eating out (do that frequently.) I didn't have my food scale with me when I was eating at other people's homes (do that frequently also.) I also realized I wasn't going to want to spend the rest of my life measuring my food on a friggin' scale! So...I learned to "estimate" portion sizes ACCURATELY. There are LOTS of visual clues out there for doing this. A three ounce serving of protein is about the size of the palm of your hand (assuming you have average size WOMAN'S hands!!)...or better yet, about the size of a deck of cards. A medium piece of fruit is comparable in size to a tennis ball (NOT a softball!!)...and so on. Google "visual clues portion sizes" and learn them for yourself. Memorize. Be free of the food scale.

TAKE TIME TO WEIGH YOURSELF. Yes, it's good to only "count" one weigh-in a week, but for obsessive people like yours truly, getting on the scale, in my birthday suit, SECOND thing in the morning...EVERY morning is a good wake up call. For ME, it keeps me on track. If I had just a little too much sodium (or food) the day before, it's a big reminder that I need to kick it up a notch that day...exercise extra careful about what I eat...drink more water...whatever.

KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE PRIZE BUT...never forget where you've been. I work off of NEGATIVE motivation. Yes, I'm excited to think about getting back on the beach without a coverup again someday soon. How do I keep myself excited? I spend quite a bit of time looking at pictures of myself at my unhealthiest...with all the extra chins and flab and jiggles and wiggles to spare. I don't want to look or feel that way anymore. If that's not motivation, I don't know what is.

DITCH THE BASEMENT PEOPLE. I read a great book some time ago..."Balcony People" by Joyce Landorf Heatherly. The books puts the people that come into our lives into two categories: balcony people and basement people...those that lift you up and those that drag you down. Seek out balcony people and spend time with them. If you have basement people in your life, reassess their value. It is the balcony people in your life that will help you along this journey.

That's pretty much all I've got. I'm lucky enough to have a life full of balcony people helping me along...I'm walking, I'm fidgeting, I'm eyeballing my portions, I'm minding the scale...and my ass is terrified. Is yours?

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

I have officially been...

HOME from fat camp (otherwise known as Real Life Fitness and Health) for one week. Reintegration is difficult, but I'm managing. According to the first Sunday (at home weigh in), I'm down 3 more pounds since my departure from camp. If I can keep up this pace (I'd be happy for 2 pounds a week) I WILL MEET MY GOAL by my birthday!

This is what I know right now:

It was a life changing experience for me to go to Real Life. In spite of having access to all the "tools" at home: gyms, trainers, therapists, nutritionists, etc. I also had a whole host of issues to constantly deal with...some real, some excuses that I imagined for myself, All the issues and excuses had managed to bundle themselves up into a ball...then a boulder...then a seemingly insurmountable mountain. I had created a mountain out of doubts and fears and insecurities and food addictions and saboteurs and lethargy and injuries and more and more excuses.

I had to find a way around the mountain. My way was to leave home. It was a difficult thing to do. I left my husband and my teenage boys and all my pets and all my responsibilities. I got in my car and drove to Real Life Fitness and Health in Draper, Utah. When I arrived, the only things left for which I was personally responsible were personal hygiene, waking up in the morning and getting dressed and ready for boot camp. The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. This was enough responsibility.

We were told where to be, when we needed to be there, what we should do when we got there, what we should eat (the meals were prepared for us and the last time we saw our dishes was when we cleared them from the table). We were given loads of encouragement and support. We had brilliant facilities and fantastic trainers. We spent approximately 14 hours a day at the gym...with breaks for snacks and meals.

We learned not only how to exercise, but how to LOVE exercise and appreciate what it can do for our body. We learned to appreciate food as FUEL instead of a treat, entertainment, or pleasure. We learned to find other things, besides food, to do that are not only MORE FUN but don't include eating as the primary focus and, as a bonus, burn calories. All I want for Christmas this year is a pair of my very own bowling of those cool, custom balls. And if Santa's feeling really super generous, an F1 racing go-kart would be awesome too!!

Since I've been home, I've learned that I'm capable of making good choices when we go out to eat. I CAN go to our favorite Chinese food restaurant and order steamed shrimp and steamed green beans without oil or msg or rice. It's still delicious and when I'm done I feel better than I would have felt if I'd eaten Sesame Beef and fried rice. I CAN go to our favorite Tex-Mex restaurant and order grilled quail with a side of pico-de-gallo and (1) corn tortilla. Did I miss the chips and queso? Sure...right up until we left the restaurant and I was the only person in the car who didn't feel like they needed a nap.

I went to the gym twice today. Once, this morning for group Yoga...again, this afternoon, with my husband, for some cardio. Every time I make a good choice about what I eat, every time I go to the gym, every time I walk instead of ride, every time I say, "Let's DO SOMETHING instead of meeting for dinner!" Every time I call or text or tweet or Facebook a friend when I need a shoulder for support. Every time I do any of those things, I'm taking a step towards meeting my goal.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Wrote it for something else...but using it here anyhow..

A plaque on the wall in the “Women’s House” says, “You never really leave a place you love - Part of it you take with you, leaving a part of you behind.”

I’m leaving Real Life Fitness and Health with a renewed love for taking care of my body, mind and soul. I’ve gained life-long friendships. I’m taking away priceless knowledge about nutrition and exercise and myself. I’m leaving behind blood, sweat, tears, and quite a few pounds and inches.

For those of you who follow in my footsteps, know this: every staff member here, both at Real Life and Treehouse, has something to offer you, make sure to take advantage of EVERYTHING they have to teach. You too will have your own lessons to learn and your own gifts to take…and leave.

Best wishes, Hang Tough, and Roll with the Punches

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Disclaimer: This is NOT me!

Like I said, It's NOT's Laila Ali. Someday soon, however, I WILL have a body like hers though. Do you hear ME, Ass?? I even have my own boxing gloves. (Mine are pink!) Every minute on the treadmill...every fast food place passed by...every punch thrown...every plank held....every last drop of a step in the right direction.

Friday, September 24, 2010

My third weigh in day...

is tomorrow morning. I am actually excited. Freaky, eh? I've been feeling good this week. And STRONGER. Stronger is good. Not just stronger physically, either. I've been feeling stronger mentally too. The more I accomplish at the gym, the more I realize that I can get to where I'm going. I might not get there tomorrow...or even next week, but my goals ARE achievable. It's a good feeling to KNOW that again.

You know what else makes me feel strong? Kickboxing! Who would have ever thought that Little Miss Zen Yoga Lover (aka Freakishly Flexible) would fall in love with beating the everliving crap out of a heavy bag to hip-hop music?? I certainly would never have guessed (ok, well secretly I knew - but I never would have ADMITTED it!)...but I love boxing. I'm not so sure about the kicking part because of my stupid knee...but I do love punching things. So, Ass, when this is all said and done, you'd better watch out...because if I could have a body like anyone's it'd be Laila Ali.

Think it's impossible, Ass? Like Laila's Dad, Muhammad Ali, said:

"Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing."

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Yesterday was the first day....

that I felt 100% healthy again! Here's hoping that I can stay this way until it's time for me to head back to the flatlands. (FINGERS AND TOES AND WHATNOT CROSSED!)

Because I was feeling sooooo great yesterday, I woke up with everyone else here at Fat Camp (I guess I really should call it Fitness Camp because quite a few of the people that come aren't fat at all...but whatever...the name seems to have stuck) I woke up with everyone else and rode to the gym in one of the shuttles instead of being lazy, sleeping late and driving in my own car. I went to boot camp at the butt crack of dawn and stayed at the gym...and stayed...and stayed...and stayed. We take breaks for meals. Sometimes we try to find places to hide and rest for a few minutes, but the trainers always manage to find us and "encourage" us to get back to work. :) All in all, yesterday, like every week day except Friday, we were at the gym for FOURTEEN HOURS!!! Amazing, isn't it??!!! All I know is this: if I can get up at the butt crack of dawn here in Utah (where they seem to have an amazing lack of both oxygen AND humidity in their air) five days a week and work out for quantities of hours heretofore I thought physically impossible...when I get home, it's just not going to be that big of a deal to wake up at the time I NORMALLY get up...get my kids off to school...then go spend an hour and change at the gym before I go to work instead of spending an hour and change sitting on the couch watching the news and eating frozen waffles while I wonder why my ass is so enourmous!

By the way, speaking of my ass...since I've gotten's already 9.2 pounds smaller. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Germ warfare and all! Take that, ass!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

As you all know, after countless hours....

of hobbling around on crutches, sitting in the easy chair of doom and gloom, whining to myself about being broken and CONSOLING myself with ice cream and chips, I was finally released to do physical therapy. After countless additional hours of physical therapy, I was finally released to workout on my own. After finding the world's coolest trainer, (no offense to my friends in Utah) I started working out again. I also scheduled the ROAD TRIP TO FAT CAMP!!

I made it. Alive. WITHOUT FRENCH FRIES!! We all knew it would be an epic struggle. Believe it or not, Naomi conquered the beast. I'm not sure that I've ever been more proud of myself for a particular accomplishment. Let me think about it for a few moments....................Nope.....pretty sure.....Yep....a twenty some odd hour drive without stopping for french fries is one of my greatest feats in life. Granted, I've accomplished many things that are way more important to other people, but accomplishing this was important to me in both a big and a small way. The small way is easy to explain....I simply didn't need to consume the extra calories. The big way is harder....I guess it's just that I needed to prove to myself that I was in control of my food and not the other way around. Because once I truly believe that, the rest of this stuff will be a cinch! One step at a time ass, one step at a time.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Less than a week...

and counting...and I'll be on the road back to fat camp in Utah! Can you believe it? I can't. It seems like I just left there a few minutes ago. My knees are starting to ache at the very idea of living through "intervals!" I'm going to play it smart this time, though. I learned a lesson the hard way on my last trip and I'm not going to try to undo half a decade worth of french fries and chips and pints of ice cream during one morning of boot camp. First of all, IT CAN'T BE DONE!!! Secondly, getting injured sucks and just makes this process take all that much longer. See? I might be a slow learner, but I can be taught!

What do I have left to do before I go?

According to my doctor, I need to REST so I don't get any more sick than I've been.

Remember the mountain of clothes I cleaned out of my closet? I'm ashamed to admit that they're STILL in the dining room...gathering dust and waiting to be inventoried so I can give them to charity. I need to take care of that.

I need to clean house so it's not a TOTAL disaster when I get home...or at least so I feel better about leaving. My husband tends to keep things more neat than I do so I really don't have to worry too much.

I need to do a major grocery shopping expedition so I can have some glimmer of hope that my husband and younger son will eat something besides pizza and sugar cereal while I'm gone. I don't have to worry about my older son any more...all he eat nowadays are plain grilled chicken breasts, protein shakes, baked sweet potatoes, pasta, and some fruit. I'd like to see him add some vegetables to the list but at least he takes vitamins. Beggars can't be choosers. He's come a long way from the days when he was living on Nachos Bell Grande from Taco Bell. It's inspiring.

I need to get my hair cut so I don't go crazy and try to do it myself.

I need to get my younger son a new Suffice it to say that he's made a decision to do something very difficult and I'm so very proud of him for making the right choice.

I need to get one of my four dogs to the vet for her shots and determine which of the other three is puking on the floor. I also need to try to sucker one of my boys into bathing and grooming ALL of the dogs because they're starting to smell a little "doggish" and I don't have the time, energy, or patience for this task right now. There's money it for whomever steps up to the plate.

I need to clean and rearrange all the toys in our parrot's cage so she'll be less bored while I'm gone. Don't buy a parrot if you don't have a lot of attention to spare. They're extremely demanding...and LOUD.

My car needs an oil change...and possibly new tires...and definitely new windshield wipers...and a wash.

My sister-in-law needs a ride to the medical center on Tuesday....lots of scary tests...I'll be there for transportation, comic relief, and moral support. It will be a long day for her...and me. Say a prayer for both of us.

And I need to pack!!

If I can live through the rest of this week, "Hell Week" at boot camp should be a breeze!

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Have you ever...

been on a road trip that didn't involve TONS of junk food? I think there's a method to the madness. Most of the roadtrip foods we bring along for the ride have TONS of sodium. The more sodium we consume along with our Route 44 slushies from Sonic or our Big Gulps from Seven 11, the fewer stops we have to make in disgusting and often more than a little creepy roadside reststop bathrooms to pee. Based on this theory, I would have to guess that over the years I've consumed approximately several pounds of sunflower seeds, beef jerky (Holmes Smokehouse is the best), McDonald's french fries, and various and sundry sorts of potato chips per 1000 miles of vacation travel by car. Considering the fact that my next road trip is going to be from my home...just outside of Houston, Texas...all the way back to fat camp in Utah, I'm thinking that my modus operandi for road trip snacks probably isn't a good idea this time.

For those of you that are wondering, "Why the hell are you driving?!" amounts partly to superstition and partly to avoidance of the huge pain in the ass flying has become. Superstition because the last time I booked flights to camp I ended up having to reschedule multiple times. No, I'm not afraid to least not commercially...I'm not a huge fan of private aviation. Statistically, you're safer on a motorcycle, without a helmet, in rush hour traffic, than you are in a private plane. I am sick of paying fees to change tickets to different dates. And I'm sick of paying fees to bring my stuff with me. I'm also sick of having to show up early to leave late. I'm sick of teensy, tiny little bathrooms with pee and God knows what else all over everything and no hot water to wash my hands. I'm sick of bitchy flight attendants that are equally sick of all the same stuff. I'm sick of sitting next to chatty strangers that want to DISCUSS what I'm reading. I'm sick of being woken up to ask if I want a f*cking beverage. I'm sick of being squished into a space smaller than my suitcase if I have to fly coach or having to pay absolutely ridiculous upgrade fees if I don't. I'm sick of having not being able to bring my toiletries on board and having them spill in my checked luggage. I'm sick of all of it. Once upon a time, flying used to be a fairly pleasant experience. It isn't any longer. For those reasons, and the fact that I don't want to jinx myself out of this trip by booking flights, I'm planning on throwing my stuff in the back of my car, giving Onstar my destination address and hitting the road.

What am I going to eat along the way? My usual snacks won't work. I've been busting my ass...strike new trainer's been busting my ass (already sent me to the emergency room with a pulled muscle in my abdomen and made me puke more times than I can count...SHE'S AWESOME!!)...trying to get ready for camp. I lost 4.5 pounds last week. I don't want to undo my (our) hard work during a two day drive!! I'm open to suggestions. I'd prefer NOT to stop to go to the bathroom every thirty minutes. I'd also prefer not to deliberately dehydrate myself or have to wear diapers like that crazy lady that drove across the country to kill her boyfriend at NASA a while back. I guess it'll be what it is. Fruit? Protein Shakes? Do they make low sodium beef jerky?! Would the extra sodium for a couple of days really matter? I'm running out of time to figure it out...less than two weeks and counting...barring unforeseen circumstances...knock on wood and all that...and I'll be locked and loaded (just not crazy, seeking vengeance, and diapered!) and ready to roll.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

I am dreading...

getting up in the morning tomorrow. I'm dreading getting up because getting up means ANOTHER workout session with the personal trainer I hired to help me get ready for my triumphant return to fat camp.

My new trainer's name is Danielle. She is tiny and perfect and could probably kick Jillian Michael's ass from here to next Thursday and back again. She's also a little bit older than me and has, get this, SIX kids. She used to be just as fat as me...maybe even fatter...and now she's got BUNS OF STEEL! Hear that, ass? The trainer with buns of steel is coming for you!

At any rate, I'm still dreading getting up tomorrow. I've committed to training 3 times a week with her from now until I leave. I have 5 more weeks at home before camp. That means I have 14 training sessions to live through. That's 14 more hours (at least...the first session lasted closer to two hours) of being tortured, made to cry, vomit and generally forced to realize how badly in shape I've allowed myself to become over the past few years.

I'm still recovering from our session on Friday. I didn't get too sore, but I did get a little sick. Hopefully, one of these days, my body will gain enough strength to be able to work out AND have a functioning immune system at the same time. I spent the whole weekend running a low grade fever and with a general feeling of malaise...sort of like I was on the hairy edge of the flu or something...just not quite there. I've had enough Emergen-C Immune Defense to disolve the inside of my mouth and slept most of the day today...and feeling mostly better with the exception of being tired. One way or another, my ass and I will be at the gym in the morning...just maybe without our bells on.

Barring unforeseen circumstances...

FIVE WEEKS from today, I will showing up in my SUV with all my workout clothes, my BodyBugg, my water bottles, my extra pillows, my brace for my right ankle, my brace for my left knee, my industrial sized bottle of Advil, my big tube of the magic anti-inflammatory gel the orthopaedic surgeon gave me, and my enormous ass, back at FAT CAMP in Utah....otherwise known as Real Life Fitness and Health.

I've elected to drive this time instead of flying out of sheer superstition. If you've been with me from the beginning, you might remember that the last time I was heading out to Utah, I ended up with a bout of pnemonia shortly before my trip. My airplane tickets were already booked and I had to pay to change them. Once I was well and finally made it to Utah, I got pnemonia AGAIN (gotta love people that are too inconsiderate and/or stupid to cover their mouths when they sneeze and cough) and had to leave early. It turned out to be a good thing that I was sick because the pain I'd been feeling in my left knee turned out to be a stress fracture and a meniscus tear....but, that being beside the point, it all meant MORE changed flights and more changed flight fees.

This time I drive. Period. End of discussion. (Sorry, honey, I know you'll be worried...but you're just going to have to suck it up.) Two days before I'm supposed to be in Utah, I'll throw all my crap in the back of the Acadia, call the friendly folks at Onstar, and be on my way. Simple.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

There is a mountain...

the size of a bull elephant on my dining room table. It's flowing onto the floor and spreading out of the room altogether. The majority of the contents of this mountain came out of my closet.

You see, it's almost time for the kids to go BACK TO SCHOOL!!!! I was just at Walmart the other day, picking up some Kashi cereal bars, and there were aisles and aisles of school supplies...all shiny and beautiful and whispering the reminder that it's a time of joy and celebration. Back to SCHOOL is ever so much better than just about any other my humble opinion. My older son has gone from 270 something pounds...wearing a TIGHT 38 inch 195 pounds...wearing a 30 inch waist. He NEEDS new clothes! My younger son has grown at least six inches in the past couple of weeks. He NEEDS new clothes as well! However, in order to determine exactly what they need (they've got to have some underwear or something that still fits, right?)...I make them go through their closets and pull out everything that no longer fits or is in some other manner unsuitable to keep. If they can swap stuff around, great. If not, I don't force the issue.

This year, I decided not to be a hypocrite. It was high time I cleaned out my own closet. Since my ass expanded, I've been living in a land of delusion...hanging onto the "skinny jeans" and various and sundry other clothes that I thought I might wear again. I'm not talking about stuff from just a few years ago when I was wearing a normal size skinny jean...I'm talking about stuff from...get this..."back in the day!" I know!! Crazy, isn't it? My goal isn't to have the body I did from "back in the day!" If anything, I'd like to have a BETTER body than that...healthier...stronger...more toned...not just thin.

So, I cleaned out the closet. Every single item of clothing that is too small, regardless of whether or not I think I might fit in it again a week from now or a year from now is going to charity. Every single item of clothing that is too BIG is gone too. I'm done hiding my fat ass under giant sweaters and, for the love of God, I made my husband promise to divorce me if I ever bought another VELOUR JOGGING SUIT!! I am too young and not nearly fat enough (enormous ass or no) to wear velour jogging suits. What the hell was I thinking?

The funny thing is that the majority of what I'm left with is...EXERCISE CLOTHES!!! Are you surprised? I'm not. That's really all I ever wear anymore. If we go out, dressing up consists of a "nice" t-shirt and khakis or jeans...and I still have some of those left that fit me now. I don't need to be going out very often right now anyhow. It's too damn hard to keep track of what I'm eating when I do.

I might go to Academy or something when I take the kids clothes shopping and fill out my current wardrobe with a few more things to wear to the gym...but, other than that, I'm not going to buy any more clothes until I hit my ultimate goal. When I do, my sweet hubby had better hide the American Express card...because my new skinny ass and I will be going on the shopping trip to end all shopping trips!

Thursday, July 22, 2010

According to the...

scale at my endocrynologist's office, I have managed to lose a whopping SEVEN pounds in the past SIX months. I guess I'm happy that I didn't gain weight with all the crap that's been going on...but damn...I wish I'd managed to pull off a better number than that.

Oh well, what's done is done.

I am slowly but surely RE-learning how to manage my stress levels and keep them from causing me to shove food down my gullet like a half-starved oil soaked pelican. I am slowly but surely RE-learning how to get up off my fat ass and get more exercise without hurting myself. I am slowly but surely RE-learning how to keep track of the math and know that if I consume less calories than I burn I will lose weight.

I just need to finish "slowly but surely" RE-learning all this so I can get moving towards my goals at a faster clip. I'm going to be turning 40 in less than a year. I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror the other day and, in addition to the Louis Vuitton trunk sized bags under my eyes and the deeply stressed and furrowed brow, I SWEAR I saw...get this...not just double chins...but CELLULITE on my neck!! How the hell did I get cellulite on my neck? I don't even have that much cellulite on my enormous ass (don't get any funny ideas, ass, I KNOW you're listening!), how could it possibly be on my neck??!! I have no answer to this horrifying question, but I do know that it WILL BE GONE before my next birthday!

One step at a time...when I keep them up, sometimes they add up to 20,000 steps a day and that, my dear friends, is a LOT of ass burning steps.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

A little less than...

one down (0.8 to be precise)...many more to go. I didn't quite hit the two pounds my bugg and I were shooting for this week, but I'm going to call it a success regardless. I still lost and thankfully didn't GAIN!

Success points:

* I managed to keep track of what I was eating...EVERY SINGLE DAY!
* I managed to get to the gym (only once but I was doing PLANKS - real ones!)
* I did my physical therapy on the bike on 4 other days besides the gym day.
* I had LOTS of opportunities to make some really bad food choices and passed them up.
* I had calorie deficits on days when I thought I was going to have
surpluses...just because of extra activity.

For the sake of not psyching myself out, I'm not going to call them "failure" points:

* On one day, I ate and ate and ate...and didn't exercise...and ended up with a
calorie SURPLUS of over 1800 calories!
* I used food, once again, to comfort myself during a stressful situation. I could actually feel the anxiety melting away as I scarfed down my massive plate of Chili's french fries. Some people have their alcohol, or their drugs, or whatever. It seems I have food. There, I admitted it. Hi, my name is Naomi and I'm a food addict. (Y'all are supposed to say, "Hi Naomi!" and welcome me to the meeting or something now.)

I miss being able to get up in the morning and drive to the beach for a swim in the ocean. That was a better stress reliever than a plate of french fries. Much better.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Three weeks...

from today I'll be taking my husband to San Antonio to celebrate his birthday. We're staying in a gorgeous hotel on the Riverwalk. We have reservations in two of the best restaurants in San Antonio. We'll be shopping for quirky souvenirs at El Mercado. We. Will. Be. Swimming. With. The. Belugas. At. SEAWORLD!! For those of you that have never heard of a Beluga...imagine a dolphin...increase its size by about three times...make it white...squish its face in a bit...there you go, that's pretty much a Beluga.

So, my fat ass and I will be at Sea World, celebrating my dear husband's birthday, by swimming around in a giant aquarium with the adorable baby Belugas. My favorite bathing suit is primarily black with a "slimming" white stripe. All I can think about is the shouts of terrified children, "OH MY GOD, MOMMY! SHAMU IS TRYING TO EAT THE BELUGAS!!!!"

It gets better. There is going to be a professional photographer too.

Honey, if you didn't know how much I loved you before, please know it now...and promise me that if they try to capture me and toss me back in the tank with the other killer whales you'll speak up before it's too late.

Ass, suck it in or you'll be muu-muu'd.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Normally, seeing...

an account deficit of 1055 would FREAK ME OUT!! As a matter of fact, before I checked, and double-checked the Bodybugg FAQs, it did freak me out. Guess what? Having a deficit on the Bodybugg is a GOOD thing.

I've never claimed to be good at math. Weight loss is all about math. Thankfully, the Bodybugg is doing math for me. It has determined that it's a healthy goal for me to lose 2 pounds a week. Initially, I had overridden its suggestion and told it I wanted to lose FIVE pounds per week. The bugg was upset about this idea, but let me have my way. I tried. I was not successful. The bugg was right. Being unsuccessful was depressing. It made me want to flush the bugg. But, considering that the bugg was a) very expensive piece of electronics and NOT a therefore, probably not easily flushable...and b) a birthday gift from my husband, I decided to bust it out again and give using it another shot. This time, I let it set the goals.

I think I understand the math now. 3500 calories to burn a pound, right? Today, having KEPT MY PROMISE to myself to log my food...I know that I ate just a little less than 1200 calories. I also know, according to the bugg, that I burned a little over 2200 calories. Take the difference and what do I end up with???? I end up with a calorie deficit of 1055...according to the Bodybugg. Well, if I really push my math skills to their outer limits...I can figure that if I can do that again tomorrow...and the next day...and the next...and so on...for the rest of the week...that by the end of the week...I will have a total calorie deficit of about 7000. Now, according to my math, 7000 divided by 3500 (the # of calories it takes to burn a pound!!)= 2!!!! How crazy is it that the Bodybugg KNOWS that too? Amazing...almost like magic.

I can't wait to see how it all adds up tomorrow.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

What "they" say...

is true. You really do need to write down what you're eating. Well, maybe YOU don't...but I do. It's so damn easy to trick myself into thinking that I'm eating less. A little bite here...a little bite there...all those "little bites" add up to a couple of extra meals (maybe more) by the end of the week. When I don't write down what I'm eating, invariably, I don't lose weight...or worse, I gain!! I've been kidding myself for the past couple of weeks. I've done a great job "automating" my meals...especially breakfasts and lunches during the week. Weekday dinners and weekends still get away from me. This week, for example, I got up every morning and ate a hard-boiled egg and an orange for breakfast...for lunch, I had a big, green salad from the grocery store salad bar (lots of fresh, raw veggies, a couple of ounces of lean protein, and a tablespoon of dressing)...dinners, who knows? Does anyone know what I ate for dinner? I have no clue. It was different every day and I didn't write it down. See the problem?

So, I promise myself this: starting tomorrow morning, I will write down what I'm eating. Every bite of food that goes in my mouth will be documented. At the end of the day, I'll log it all into the Bodybugg system. It'll all be there...staring me in the face...inescapable...unavoidable. I won't be able to kid myself about the extra couple 100 calories of this or and there. My ass won't be able to kid me about it any more either.

One step at a time.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Sometimes I've got...

to wonder if my Mother-in-law is conspiring with my ass against me in this battle. I leave names off the internet to protect the innocent and the guilty...but hubby's Mommy: if you're reading this, you KNOW I adore you, so please don't take this the wrong way!! Good lord woman!! Two bags of Italian Vanilla Mini Wafer Squares???!?? Seriously?! By the way, just because I KNOW they're your son's FAVORITE doesn't mean he automatically has dibs on them if you forgot to label them with his name, does it? You sent over TWO BAGS of those delicious little crispy, creamy, trans-fatty, morsels of deliciousness. One bag was mostly gone before breakfast. So, now you know why I didn't have room for nice fresh healthy fruit salad this afternoon.

Ass - 1 : Naomi - 0

Thank goodness I gave the elder teenager permission to take away my television, phone and internet privileges if I didn't do my cardio this evening. I'm sure he'll be taking that responsibility very seriously.

Friday, June 18, 2010

My oldest...

baby just turned SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD!!!!! We've been through some rocky patches over the years, but all-in-all, I'm very blessed. Both of my boys have turned out great so far. Is it my doing? Well, I'm certainly going to take a little bit of credit for being an enormous nag...maybe I can blame the fact that I HAVE to nag them on my ex-husband. He did contribute half their genetics. I have to counteract that somehow.

It's crazy though. I'm not quite 40. It's looming...dark and a storm front on the horizon...I have just over 9 months before I get there. That is just over 9 months to take my saggy, tired, feeble, flabby, not quite 40 but feels like 60, FAT body and transform it into something that feels like it did before I had kids and looks like Demi Moore's from that stupid movie where she pretended to be a Navy Seal. There isn't a Navy Seal on the face of the planet that couldn't kick Demi Moore's ass from here to next Sunday, but MY GOD...why would she care with abs like those??

They do it on the Biggest Loser. My seventeen year old son pulled off a similar transformation (if you leave out the age issues) in LESS time. I've read countless magazine articles about other people that do it. I've read countless other blogs about people that do it. I've seen pictures at my gym of people that have done it. I've sat through episodes of Celebrity Fit Camp and watched has-been 'celebrity' after has-been 'celebrity' do it. I've seen people way bigger than me Dance Their Ass clean off.

What does all this mean? Well, not too long ago I came to my breaking point. I wrote about it back then. It was DECISION TIME....TIME TO DO SOMETHING!! Well, the something I started out to do didn't work out on my first at bat. To continue with the baseball analogy...I got nailed in the head by a wild pitch and benched for the rest of the season. It sucked. It was discouraging. I went from a very high high to a very low low. Part of me...a really big part...probably my ass...wanted to give up. That part of me wanted to sit in my recliner eating ice cream, gummy bears, buttery popcorn, chicken wings, pizza, jalapeno potato chips, etc.,etc., etc. That part of me wanted to sit in that damn chair WATCHING other people live their lives.

You know what, though? I DECIDED not to listen to the part of me (my ass??) that wanted to give up. I've been jumping through hoops of fire for the past few months trying to rehabilitate my knee. Three surgeons, two MRIs, enough x-rays to make me glow in the dark, weeks of physical therapy, enough Advil to cause permanent liver damage, two braces, a walker, crutches, lots of missed work, lots of missed baseball games, lots of missed life = DEFINITIVELY NO KNEE SURGERY!!!!!

No knee surgery = Naomi back on track to launch WWIII on her ass

It really doesn't get any better...or more simple than that.

Friday, June 11, 2010

The Good...the Bad...and the...

Holy Crap I can't believe LIFE is going by soooo fast!

I can't believe it's been over a month since I've managed to pop on and say, "howdy!"

I've been MEANING to write something for a couple of weeks or so. I have had plenty of excuses...been paving the road to hell with them and everything:

* The kids got out of school. If the government wanted to do something useful, they'd fix this problem straight away.
* Just prior to the kids getting out of school, my younger son broke his arm in the last baseball game of the year...resulting in surgery for him and more grey hair for me.
* My husband's 96 year old grandmother fell and broke her hip...or broke her hip and fell...depending on which school of thought you follow. Either way, it sucks for her. Either way, it sucks even more for my in-laws. I'd help if I were there or they were here...but as things stand, all I can do is call and worry.
* I've been given extra work to do at work. This is great on some levels...I HATE not being busy...and sucky on others...I HATE dealing with other people's messes. I'm sure I'll eventually get things set straight, but right now it's causing extra stress. We all know what happens to my ass when I'm put under extra stress, right? It isn't pretty.

If I sat here and thought about it for a lot longer, I could spread my web of excuses farther and wider than the Gulf oil spill. You know what, though? I don't want to dwell on my reasons for being a screw up. I have no real justification (unless laziness and gluttony are justifications??!!) for the scale flat lining this month.

Sooooooo, I'm going to focus on the positive things that have happened:

* My house is no longer in imminent risk of quarantine. (Compare this to a month or so ago when I wasn't allowed to walk!) I'm no Martha Stewart. I'm not even sure Martha Stewart is Martha Stewart. Does ANYONE really know how to 'properly' fold fitted sheets? Who the hell does she think she's kidding, anyhow? But, I digress. My home doesn't have to be perfect, but I like things to be relatively tidy. It was causing me a lot of stress not to be able to get up and do the most simple of chores. Now, if I see a sink full of dirty dishes, I can hop to and knock them out...or, I can hop to and knock out the teenager that left them for me...depending on the mood of the moment. It's a win/win situation either way.
* Physical therapy is going well. Since I started, my knee has only gone out on me once. It crapped out while the hubby, kids, and I were making our way through the grocery store. I think it was a prophetic sign that I shouldn't take them grocery shopping with me. The more physical therapy I do, the more gung-ho I get to start my 'real' workouts. The more physical therapy I do, the more I think it might be an interesting career choice.
* Assuming physical therapy continues to go well, I should be released soon. Assuming I get released soon, I should be able to start thinking seriously about my return to fat camp. I don't want to hurt myself again, so I'm being very cautious. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "fat people shouldn't do jumping jacks." Next time around, I'll be a lot more careful with the high impact cardio.
* I have started following Dr. Oz's advice about 'automating' meals. I'm doing a really good job with this during the day...during the week. Subway is a Godsend...especially on the days I have to leave super early for physical therapy and don't have time to eat breakfast before I go. (I have to take my morning medicines on an empty stomach.) If you haven't tried their new egg white breakfast sandwiches, smack yourself for!! They open at 7 a.m. It's almost too easy to run in there, have MY Subway boy start putting together MY breakfast sandwich (English muffin, egg white, pepper jack cheese, spinach, tomato, onion <250 calories) and then get started on MY lunch sandwich (usually turkey, spicy mustard, and all the veggies except peppers and olives) while the breakfast sandwich is in the toaster. If I think I'm going to be super hungry, I can grab a yogurt and some apple slices for a snack too. If I don't have physical therapy in the morning, I eat a Fiber One bar at home **YUMMY!!** and then stop at the HEB salad bar to make a salad for my lunch. It couldn't be more simple. If only I could get family dinners and weekends figured out!! Any suggestions? The personal chef I interviewed still hasn't called me back. What a sissy.
* My hubby actually said that he WANTS to go to the gym with me tomorrow! Wouldn't it be a wonderful, splendid thing if we started going to the gym together regularly instead of sitting at home in front of various and sundry lit up boxes of doom?
* I've been given the green light to plan a trip pretty much anywhere for my 40th birthday 'celebration.' I don't care what anyone says, 40 is not the new anything. 40 is 40. I am not looking forward to this birthday AT ALL. The idea of marking this enormous milestone sitting on a beach somewhere with an enormous cover up over an enormous ass is totally and completely unacceptable. I will meet my goal before I cross this particular point on my life's timeline. Period. End of discussion. Are we clear, ass?

Monday, May 10, 2010


After countless visits to my G.P., two different orthopedic surgeons, and even a middle of the night trip to the emergency room, I have finally found a doctor that's given me a plan of action for my bum knee that MAKES SENSE!! I am sooo happy!

Here's what we did today:

*More x-rays...These determined that the tibial plateau stress fracture (Don't I sound smart? It's amazing what you can learn without ever bothering to go to medical school!) has healed completely. This means that the pain I'm still feeling and the symptoms I'm my knee refusing to work at random times...are being caused entirely by the meniscus tear.
*A real live actual THIS to doctor #2 who NEVER touched me during TWO office visits!
*Another giant needle full of cortisone and a second injection of some sort of white goopy stuff that I've never seen before. I meant to ask what it was and forgot. For all I know, it could have been octopus semen or something...maybe it's better I don't know.

And this is the plan:

*He's sending me to physical therapy...twice a week for the next six weeks.
*On days off from physical therapy, he wants me to ride a bike or swim. I'm poolless (not a word but should be) at the moment, so the bike it is.
*If my current level of pain gets worse or doesn't get better, I should come back to see him right away because then I'll need surgery after all.

HOWEVER, he's expecting things to improve rapidly and, unlike doctor #1 (who was 95% certain I needed surgery,) doesn't think I'll need to go under the knife! Yippee!

I'm looking forward to starting physical therapy on Monday...and wishing I had a pool.

Ass, what do you say you and I go check out the temporary memberships at the YMCA tomorrow so we can swim laps through the little kid tinkle?

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Here are the links...

to a news report about my fat camp. I was there for a little over a week before I had to leave early...sick and broken. I can't wait to get put back together again so I can go back and finish what I started. (I don't know how to make them 'clickable' so you'll have to cut and paste, but it's worth it!) Check it out, it's awesome!



Who's coming with me when I go back??

Scary, isn't it, ass?

Monday, May 3, 2010

Time for everyone...

to check in!! I know more of my friends and family are reading this than the nine faithful followers that betrayed their secret identities by posting pictures here. I could use some support right now. It was an emotionally exhausting weekend. My youngest son broke his wrist at his baseball game on Friday night. He walked off the field carrying a forearm that looked like a cheap, bent fork. Horrible image. Worse to see.

I RAN on my messed up knee into the dugout to see the damage up close....breaking the cardinal, "Don't come over unless I'm bleeding from my head" rule. According to some of his friends, I was more than a little freaked out...pacing and possibly cursing a bit. Shocking! Fortunately, neither my son nor I have much memory of all this.

We spent the evening in the emergency room again. You know your life is a wee bit screwy when the ER doctor (and nurses) RECOGNIZE you.

Add the broken arm to the fact that I've had to ground my older son for making "less than acceptable" grades. In spite of being told he was grounded...and that he would be UNgrounded as soon as he'd brought his GPA back into the range of those of us who walk upright, he's decided to amuse himself by asking me, countless times a day, if he can go do this or that.

So, why do I want everyone to check in? Ego, would be nice to know who (if anybody) is reading my nonsensical musings. Mostly, however, because I've discovered that:


The more stress I'm under, the more I tend to eat...and the more I tend to tell myself total crap like, "it really won't matter if you have chicken fried steak instead of grilled chicken for's just ONE meal."....or...."A few M&Ms won't kill me."....or...."Can we go out for ice cream?"....or...."I better finish this pasta so it doesn't go to waste."....and so on.

Because of the stress = overeating epiphany, I'm hoping that y'all will have some better advice and words of encouragement. Don't give me the same old....take a bath...get a a your dog nonsense we all read in Women's Day and whatnot. Give me something how to keep my kids out of the ER and making straight As in school without screaming at them. If nothing else, give me a virtual pat on the back or a hug...I could use some right about now.

And, as spite of the THREE POUNDS I gained back over the weekend...don't get too cushy back there, ass, I'm still coming for YOU!

Saturday, April 24, 2010

It would probably...

be a good idea for me to cancel Food Network and Bravo and the Travel Channel on my Direct TV package. I really, really, really, need to stop watching FOOD SHOWS. I prefer watching the Travel Channel, but lately, it seems that the Travel Channel has had just as many food shows as Food Network (Anthony Bourdain, anyone?)

When the Travel Channel isn't running food shows, it seems to be running those stupid "haunted places" shows. I went on a ghost tour in St. Augustine with my family a few years ago. It was dumb...not even remotely scary. I'm not saying that I can't be scared. Heck, I slept on the floor in my Dad's bedroom for about a month after he let me watch Poltergeist when I was a kid. Were you kidding me, Dad? I HAD one of those hideous clown dolls! I'm still scared of clowns.

But to the point at hand...if the Travel Channel had more shows about going to places where I'd have to be seen in public in a bathing suit...and less shows about "10 Best Places to Pig Out" that would be one thing...but it doesn't. The Food Network is a no brainer. And Bravo...well, the ONLY things I watch on Bravo are Top Chef and Top Chef Masters.

So, why is all this a problem? Don't get me wrong...I LOVE watching cooking shows. I love watching EATING shows. While I'm typing this post, the Food Network is on in the background. It's a show with Guy Fieri wannabe Aaron McCargo Jr. called Outrageous Food....a poor takeoff on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. They're making fresh ice cream right now. I would like some ice cream...RIGHT NOW. A few minutes ago they were eating really big sandwiches. I would like a really big sandwich right now too. Oh Lord, now it's Iron Chef! Battle Sturgeon!! See the problem?

From what I understand, I can't cancel these networks without cancelling a bunch of others that we watch all the time too. Even if I did cancel them, I can't watch any television at all without being exposed to a constant barrage of ads for food. Have you seen the new Carrabba's commercial? I love Carrabba's. I haven't been to Carrabba's in months. I think I NEED to go to Carrabba's tomorrow!

So, what am I going to do? For right now, probably nothing. What I've been doing for the past month or so seems to be working...slowly but surely. Sure, the shows and commercials induce cravings but I'm always going to have cravings. I guess I need to learn to fight them. When I can walk again, I'll start working out and working out helps keep the food cravings under control. When I can walk, I also spend a lot less time in front of the television so I'm sure that will help too.

Hey, Ass...getting scared yet? You should be. I'm figuring this stuff out. One step at a time.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

One more...

weekend of hobbling around on crutches!! Maybe. I have an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon on Monday morning to find out if I'm allowed to walk like a normal person again. What I'm hoping NOT to hear is that I'm going to need knee surgery. That would suck. Yes, that would suck a lot.

I did some math this morning. Since I came home from fat camp, I've been losing an average of just over 3/4 of a pound per week. Not too shabby, eh? I know I'd be losing more if I was working out, but I'll take it...or leave it as the case may be.

I also know that I would be losing more if I were better at managing my stress levels. I'm slowly but surely trying to learn not to use food to self-medicate for stress. I've read all the suggestions: take a walk, take a bath, call a friend, read a book, etc. Sometimes, however, I just have such a crappy day that it seems like nothing but a plate of fried chicken with a side of macaroni and cheese chased with a giant bowl of ice cream will do the trick.

What gets me there more often than not? Probably having a teenager in the house...constantly stomping around and glaring at me because, of course, they know everything there is to know about everything and I'm a total and complete idiot. That'll screw with your cortisol levels!

Funniest thing about my stomping and storming teenager...little does he know that if he would only stop his tirades for a moment he'd find out that he's quite an inspiration to me. I've never met anyone with more willpower than him. Granted, he has some very interesting ideas about health and nutrition...but whatever he chooses to put into play, he does...completely and wholeheartedly. It's amazing. He's lost over 50 pounds since the beginning of the school year...eating primarily yogurt, lunch meat, and grilled chicken salads from McDonalds. If that's not will power, I don't know what is.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed and my prayers prayed that I'll get a clean bill of health on Monday. My stress levels are through the roof. I've actually started clenching my jaw so tight that it's starting to hurt. I'm not the only one, either; my husband was diagnosed with TMJ earlier today. So, what's my plan? Well, I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing...regardless the stomping. Hopefully, I'll get to start working out soon. I don't want to reduce stress with food...maybe a kickboxing class is in order. Somehow, punching things seems like a good idea.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

It's not exactly a "Before"...

and it most definitely is NOT an "After"...I guess I'd have to call this one an "In Process." This picture was taken of me the day I was getting ready to fly home from fat camp. I was sick and broken but still happy about the not insignificant amount of progress I'd made in the short time I was there. Can you tell a difference between this picture and the one were I'm wearing a grey t-shirt and brown shorts? I can. Just a little bit...but there's a difference. I've been doing nothing since I've gotten home besides sitting on my heinie, nursing my stupid stress fracture, praying I won't need knee surgery, and playing a lot of Farmville...but I'm still losing a little bit of weight every week. A little is better than none...or gaining, right? I can't wait to see what my next "before" picture looks like when I go back to Real Life (fat camp) again. Should be interesting.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Did you know...

that a small Dairy Queen Blizzard has nearly ONE THOUSAND CALORIES???!!! I sure as shootin' didn't. If someone had forced me to guess, I would have offered up a number somewhere around in the 350 to 500 range. ONE THOUSAND CALORIES!!! FOR A SMALL BLIZZARD!!!! That is so crazy I can't even begin to fathom it. What's worse is the number of times in my life that I've eaten, not a small...but a LARGE Blizzard...with EXTRA Heath bars (gotta have the extra Heath bars if you're gonna get a Blizzard!) mixed in. I don't dare calculate how many calories the large Blizzard clocks in at...just don't dare.

After being pretty faithful to my plan for several weeks now, I had a small Blizzard on Saturday afternoon. I ended up going over my calories for the day by...Can you guess how many? Yeah...just a little over ONE THOUSAND CALORIES! I felt sick to my stomach a third of the way into it but didn't want to waste $2.99 worth of trans-fat laden...ass expanding...extra Heath bar containing...(don't forget the limited time special caramel brownies too!)...creamy I scarfed the whole thing.

Live and learn.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Do you ever...

think something is ridiculously complicated? So much so that you're ready to throw it through a wall or flush it down a toilet in order to avoid trying to figure out how to use it? Well, that's how it is in life for me with nearly all things mechanical. The bigger the book of instructions, the more likely it is to bring me to tears and/or screams of rage.

So, you can imagine the fear that was brought about by my dear, sweet hubby buying me a BODYBUGG for my birthday. Remember my noble (but unsuccessful) attempts to set the loaner up while I was at fat camp?

The new BodyBugg is prettier than the loaner. Its monitor is shiny and silver and has a bright turquoise light. And it beeps when you push the buttons! I'm enamoured. I do love the idea of being able to use all of its exciting features.

But, once again, I open the box and find not one, BUT TWO giant instruction for the Bugg and one for the display...and then, of course, there's a whole other set of instructions on the internet for setting up the online program.

Tears and screams of rage again?? Of course! For a little while, at least. But guess what?? I powered through it!! I didn't want to hurt my hubby's feelings. He always thinks long and hard about gifts for me. (I really am the luckiest wife in the world. I'll never begin to guess how he puts up with my crazy nonsense!) He would have been devastated if I'd given up and stuck the Bugg on a shelf in the closet or ran it over with my truck.

So...after many hours of frustration, I managed to set up my online account...and then, miraculously, it only took me a few minutes to figure out which end of the black cord/plug/thingy stuck into my laptop and which stuck into the Bugg. I was able to charge it successfully...and even more miraculously, I was able to get the information I'd typed into the computer to travel through the black cord/plug/thingy into the Bugg so it would know important things like how fat I am and how big my ass is and how much I'm trying to shrink it!

I was also able to figure out how to get the Bugg off of the black cord/plug/thingy and install it into its arm strap AND get the pretty silver monitor thingy installed into its watch band. Are you impressed yet?

I've been wearing it for nearly two weeks now. It's keeping track of all the calories I'm burning...hopping back and forth to the bathroom with my cool walker. I've even had my coaching session with the BodyBugg professional that taught me how to use all the online features. (You know if they would just have a real person come help you get set up from the get-go it would save people like me a lot of grief!)

For the past couple of days, I've been using the BodyBugg program to log my food instead of It is easier to log food on the BodyBugg program...only because it seems to have more foods in the database. My understanding is that if you upgrade on and pay their membership fee (instead of being a cheapskate like yours truly and just using the freebie membership) you get a bigger database of foods. I just don't see any purpose in paying for both. I'm still staying on to use some of the other features though...especially the forums. The people on there are great and very supportive.

So, what's my point? Well, I'm proud of myself for gutting the BodyBugg setup out. Normally, I would have given up or smashed the damn thing with a hammer...but I didn't...and I've found it to be quite useful! Go me!

Friday, April 2, 2010

I met with a...

personal chef earlier this week. If someone had filmed me trying to hop up his walkway with my walker, it would have made a fantastic youtube video. I'd be right up there with the laughing babies and dancing panda bears and whatnot.

He works out of a house near a friend of mine's home but supposedly goes wherever you want him to go and cooks whatever you want him to cook. His girlfriend works with him. She's a master gardener. My greenhouse has been sitting empty in my back yard for a little over a year. I have lofty ambitions of filling it up with delicious organic herbs and fruits and vegetables. (Farmville neighbors, I'm talking about REAL gardening, not virtual's scary stuff!) Right now, it's full of empty shelves...and gravel. Maybe she could help fill it with edible things? What a crazy idea, right?

During our quick meeting, I went over the food preferences/requirements of everyone in my family. My oldest son has aspirations of being a pro-body builder and wants to cut his body fat percentage. My younger son needs to put on some weight (muscle mass) for baseball. My husband could stand to lose about ten pounds...but mostly just needs to eat a little healthier so his blood pressure and cholesterol and triglycerides don't get out of control. I don't want him to end up on insulin like his Daddy. And me, of course, I need to SHRINK MY ASS!!

I discussed our food preferences and followed up with an email. So far, I haven't heard anything back. I'm afraid I might have scared him off. I've been trying to figure out a way to easily feed everyone in my family without having to be a short order cook for years. I CAN cook. I've hosted Thanksgiving at my house every year since I was 16. My mashed potatoes and gravy are world famous! Well, maybe not world famous but certainly well thought of in my immediate family. (I can make healthy things too!) I'm just not good at organizing...particularly when it involves organizing meals for picky, picky, picky eaters with a bunch of specific requirements. Our default meal is pizza...because we can order three different ones and everyone will have something they like. That works for my ass, but not for my battle plan against it.

It's easy enough to change what I'm doing for me, but I would like to help my whole family get healthier in the process.

Personal chef guy...please don't be frightened! Give us a call back. I have faith that you can come up with some ideas! I'll do all the shopping (as soon as I can walk). I'll do all the prep work. Hell, I'll even do all the cooking! I just need to know what to make. On the other hand, you are welcome to do all of the above...just call...soon...preferably before I eat an entire box of Cadbury cream eggs in celebration of Easter because I can't stand up in the kitchen long enough to make anything else!!

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I'm conflicted about this too...

I can't figure out if I should take what the new surgeon told me as good news or crappy news.

Normally, I wouldn't feel the need to get a second opinion but under this particular set of circumstances I did. When I came back from fat camp with my left leg all boogered up, I knew I needed to get into the doctor post haste. I was also fighting another nasty upper resperatory infection, so my first stop was my G.P.'s office. They put me on antibiotics for the URI and gave me a shot of cortisone in my knee and told me to stay off of it for a few days and see if it got better. If it didn't get better, I was supposed to either go back to see them or get an appointment with our local sports medicine place.

I chose to go to the sports medicine place. I've spent a lot of time there in the past. Sometimes I've really got to wonder why the hell I'm such a friggin' klutz?!!! It would be nice to get through a whole year without spraining something or straining something or dislocating something or breaking something!

Anyhow, the two doctors that I've seen in the past at the sports medicine place didn't have any appointments available for weeks so I took an appointment with a new doctor. The new doctor did x-rays...didn't see anything but had a couple guesses. He sent me for an MRI. His guesses were right. Like I've mentioned (I'm quite certain way more times than you're all interested in hearing, but like I said from the get-go, this blog is mostly for tough it up!)...I have a stress fracture in my left tibia and a torn medial meniscus. This doctor gave me a brace to wear...told me not to walk more than necessary and gave me two choices: a) wait for the fracture to heal and see if the pain goes away or b) get the arthroscopic surgery for the meniscus now (he said there was a 90% chance I'd need it) and rehab from everything all at once.

I wasn't sure what to think about those choices. I also really wasn't sure what to think about the fact that this particular doctor was GIDDY about the healthcare bill getting signed in. I think it's a travesty and am seriously considering a move to Cuba or something (if I'm going to be a communist I might as well go hard core!)...he was GIDDY! It creeped me out. None of my other doctors are happy about it. Some have retired...others are considering it. Did I say this guy was GIDDY?? Creepy. Creepy. Creepy. So...I decided I needed to see another doctor. If I do need surgery, there's no way I'm letting Dr. Giddy Pants near me with a scalpel!

Both my endocrynologist (one of the doctors who will probably retire and/or move with me to Cuba if the government starts telling him how to practice medicine) and my mother-in-law gave me the name of another doctor. This guy only does knees. Apparently, he does the knees for most of our local major sports teams and whatnot. He's supposedly a "knee guru" or whatever you'd call the best of the best of the best of knee doctors. I was surprised to be able to get an appointment with him within a few days of my first call.

The appointment was for yesterday at 3 p.m. My husband drove me to the medical center. I'm still popping Vicodin like M&Ms and driving isn't such a good idea. We showed up at the office at 2:45. I filled out my forms. (You know, if the government wanted to do something SMART to fix healthcare, they'd standardize all the stupid forms and give people something they could do at home and bring with them. That would save a ton of time and money for everyone.) After filling out my forms, I checked in with the insurance girl. She told me that because we have good private insurance (enjoy it while it lasts, right?!) we'd have no payment that day. Then we waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited....and waited. I finally got called back at about a quarter till and 3 or 4 other people that had also been waiting forever.

The nurse took my MRI CD/DVD and paperwork and stuck me in an exam wait...and wait and wait and wait some more. When Dr. Guru came in, he did pretty much exactly nothing for about a minute and a half. He told me not to wear the brace the other doctor had told me to wear. He told me to use the crutches the other doctor had told me I didn't need to use. He told me not to put any weight on my all. And he told me to come back to see him in four weeks.

Pardon my language, my more sensitive readers, but WHAT THE FUCK?

So, now I've got two totally conflicting sets of protocol about what to do. I don't trust the first doctor at all, but I didn't get to spend enough time with the second doctor to even guess at whether or not I should trust him. I DO trust my endocrynologist...and my mother-in-law...and all the reviews....but still! It would have been nice to have had the time to get my questions answered.

What do I do? How the hell am I supposed to get around without putting any weight on my left leg for four weeks? My right knee and ankle were messed up long before any of this happened and 5 minutes on crutches had them screaming bloody murder at me. I've been using a walker I borrowed from my Mom (leftover from her hip replacement surgery - looking cool, eh?) and while it's a fantastic upper body workout I'm a little afraid I'm going to kill myself or one of our dogs trying to negotiate around the obstacles in our home...not to mention that I'm already getting blisters on my hands.

Good God I sound like a whiny, obnoxious, little titty baby, don't I?

On a lighter note...Dr. Guru did say I could swim. If I had access to a pool, I'd be in it right now!! If fat camp did nothing else for me, it did seem to reignite the "I love to exercise!" flame I used to have burning all the time when I was younger...and healthier...and my ass wasn't so enormous.