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?