Wednesday, March 31, 2010


I've been wearing my Bodybugg for 24 hours now and so far I can tell you with the utmost confidence...this relationship is going places. I woke up this morning and it told me that I burned 1,000 calories while I slept. My first thought was, "Now that's exercise I can get behind." My second thought was, "How can I sleep more vigorously?" It's making all of this like a game for me. I have the digital display on the watch band so I can constantly see how many calories I'm burning and steps I'm taking without having to plug it into a computer. It brings out the competitor in me. It constantly reminds me to take more steps and move more just by being there. Tack on the fact that I refuse to see a calorie surplus when I track all of my information on the website and you've got a new kind of addict. And this is an addiction I can live with.

I've gone to the gym the last three days and the workouts are gradually getting better. The first day I was pretty blah. It had been a while. Yesterday my lower back hurt so bad by the time I walked IN the gym that after 10 minutes on the treadmill I had to stop and go to the recumbent bike. After 25 minutes there I went back to the treadmill and tried again...better. Today? I did the treadmill for 30 minutes, part of which was at a faster speed. I was pumping my arms. I had a lil fire in my step. I only did 15 minutes on the recumbent bike, but I was pedaling fast and at a higher level. Everyday is progress.

Here is what I learned about weighing 370 during the few weeks I visited: I did not enjoy it and I will not be returning. It's my body's breaking point. I've lived in the 340-360 range for a significant period of time and, though not a picnic, there is a drastic difference between that and 370. I feel like a Macy's Day Parade balloon just listing back and forth above all the little people below because I am SO BLOATED. I get heart burn/indigestion all the time probably because of the 10 extra pounds pushing against my stomach, esophagus, etc. My clothes think I've become some sort of Incredible Hulk type superheroess because I keep threatening to bust seams. If I had gained one more pound I might have put someone's eye out when I popped a button. Everything is harder. Everything takes longer. Everything sucks. I got on the scale at the gym again today (no pic because it's not my weekly weigh in day) and...I'm down about 4 (even with a couple pounds of bodybugg on me). Hopefully that number will still hold true post Easter.

Monday, March 29, 2010

It's official

I am the fattest I've ever been. Only by a couple pounds, but I am, nonetheless. I didn't even need a scale to tell me so. I knew it. I FELT it. I have never felt this bad before...physically. Mentally I'm ok, actually, because I'm in the right frame of mind for it. If I would have seen that number a few weeks ago my response would be different. Right now? My response is...don't get comfortable 370's, you won't be here tomorrow.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Simple Math to start the term

3500 calories = 1 pound
To lose one pound a week, I need to burn 500 more calories a day than I eat.
To lose two pounds a week, I need to burn 1000 more calories a day than I eat.
To lose three pounds a week, I need to burn 1500 more calories a day than I eat.
I think you see where this is going.
Burn, Baby, burn.
It all starts tomorrow!

Friday, March 26, 2010

My Food Revolution

I've been waiting with much anticipation for Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. I watched it tonight and Holy Fuck! Here are a few of my comments while watching:

"You've got to be EFFING kidding me."
"Oh. My. God." and
"That is effing disgusting."

I'm about an hour and a half into it at this point and starting to feel like my poor Jamie would have better luck selling flip flops to Eskimos in winter. Why are these people so daggum obstinate? So he's a strange Brit rollin through your town trying to make some changes. He's trying to keep your kids from dying, not pass a Health Care bill for God sake. These people fought him since he first set foot in that town. They questioned, doubted, eye-rolled. It was insane how hard they were on him.

Anyway, at one point he pulled some kids aside and showed them what chicken nuggets were REALLY made of. He cut off all sane people parts we meat eaters really go for. The breasts, thighs, legs, wings. Then he took the carcass of that there chicken and some skin for good measure and threw it into a food processor. Yes, the bones, too. Pureed chicken bits. It was revolting. I don't think I'll ever look at another chicken nugget the same. Which is hard, what with it being all my nephews ever want to eat.

He went into a classroom of six year olds and none of them could name most of the fruits and vegetables that Jamie held up for them. You know, really difficult things like celery for the love of God. They sure as hell knew what french fries were though. These kids ate pizza for breakfast and potatoes made from some sort of dehydrated cement disguised as food for lunch (with the aforementioned nuggets). I was jaw droppingly amazed by it and completely saddened. But, me being a true opportunist, I recognize that this show and the nutritional demise of our youth could help, well, me. If the level of disgust I am feeling right now can stick with me maybe I can start eating better. I mean, come on, if Jamie's slap in America's face makes me look at highly processed food and feel nauseated this is win win in my book. Maybe it will keep me away from a drive through window more easily than my own willpower allows. Every little bit helps.

As an aside, I told Mom today that I am going to be cooking dinner Monday through Thursday and dad can deal with it. He can cook on weekends. Fridays I'll be at school until 9pm so I've asked that his most gluttonous concoctions be then so that I don't really have to worry about anything other than Saturday and Sunday. I'll decide what we're having over the weekend and mom can get the groceries for the upcoming meals. Mom is trying to lose weight, too, so as long as I'm not getting too crazy on the groceries...we have an accord.

Oh, and Alice the lunch lady? Open your mind and shut your mouth.

I'm an addict

I've always known that I have an unhealthy relationship with food1. I don't think, until now, that I've ever fully accepted that it's an addiction. I've often debated the food addiction vs. drug/alcohol addiction. It is my belief that food addiction is far harder to conquer than drug/alcohol addiction. I can't remove food from my life like I can cigs or vodka. I have to eat, I don't have to smoke or drink. If I was found passed out with powder on my face I would be judged less and probably applauded by some if it was from cocaine and not donuts. A fat girl bellied up to a pint of Ben & Jerry's disgusts more people than a cracked out tweaker slapping an arm for a vein. There are a lot of drug and alcohol addicts that function in life quite well without anyone knowing there is a problem. I cannot hide my problem. There are no eye drops that make me look thin. For me, even if I keep all the bad stuff out of the house, there are 25 dealers (some open 24 hours a day) within a mile of my house.

Here is how we are similar. When we are jonesing for our drug of choice we get anxious. If I start craving something I will start feeling tense and I will be consumed by it. We all know what we're doing to our bodies, health, and lives...we just don't care. At least not enough to stop the destructive behavior. Sometimes we get our fixes without even being aware of what we're doing. We sometimes frantically get our high, and then the second we are done, we are overcome with debilitating guilt...until we're not, then we do it again. We often try to quit cold-turkey, checking ourselves into rehab or joining a gym and writing blog entries about how different it is this time. We might even mean it. We try. We might even have a brief stint of success...until we don't. Most of the time, our family and friends don't understand why we can't just fix it. My sister often says "I know you can do it. You've done it before." She's referring to the few times that I've lost 40 or so pounds. I appreciate her faith, but what she fails to realize is, with every "relapse" it gets ten times harder. I lose a little piece of me every time I fail and I fail every day. She and I don't have the same relationship with food2. If my sister struggles with her weight I believe it has more to do with time than a full-fledged addiction3.

What I know about me, for now, is that, like most addicts, I will never conquer this beast. I will fight it every day for the rest of my life. I will wake up every day and have to make a conscious effort to do the right thing. If an alcoholic with five years of sobriety can relapse after one beer, I can easily do the same thing. I need to start looking at food differently. I need to exercise every day. I need to accept that this is how it is and stop feeling like it's not fair. I need to be addicted to a healthy lifestyle. To help with this process I am going to introduce another addiction...lil electronic gadgets. I'm getting a Bodybugg. You know, the little armband things they wear on Biggest Loser that helps you keep track of whether or not you're burning more calories than you're eating? I've wanted one since Biggest Loser started. Now is the time. I'm getting hooked up next week. I was online until about 2am looking at the site and starting to set things up. Not quite sure what all is involved, but I think you know you'll be hearing about it.

1 I like to state all things blindingly obvious.
2 I know this because she often has ice cream in her freezer with ice crystals on it. This is unheard of in my world. It is also verging on grounds for being excommunicated from the family.
3 She reads this so she might just tell me to blow it out my ass.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

In the land of suck...I am Queen.

Who else is tired of my bullshit? I've had this blog for what? Six years? All of my yo-yoing, teeter-tottering, waivering and whining has resulted in a weight loss of nada/zilch/zero/nothing/goose egg. Sweet Jesus I suck.

Last week was the end of Winter term for me. On one of the last days a classmate happened to park close to me and because we were allowed to arrive later than normal, parking was a nightmare. We started walking up the hill at what would be an average pace for most people. As the incline increased I knew there was no way I would make it to the top with him in any state other than one of complete and utter disgust. I knew I wouldn't be able to breathe and he'd be like "WTF and stuff." This term I gained back anything I lost last term. Fail. I quickly grabbed my phone out of my pocket, interrupted the conversation and said, "Crap, I gotta take this call. I'll see you in there." Lame. I was embarrassed that I even had to do it, but I would have been mortified if I hadn't.

When it comes to excuses I reign supreme. I could give you a new one every single day of the week. I'm too busy with school, I don't feel good (no shit, you're 360+ pounds), it's too hard, I have bangs now and I can't workout with bangs...I think you see where this is going. It's bullshit. All of it. Every excuse is completely and utterly pulled right out of my ass. Well, it's enema time (no, not literally, ew). No more excuses.

Here is what I know. I have spent the last two years completely focused on a goal. Absolutely nothing could get me off track. I've had tunnel vision like you read about and could not be stopped. I gave up my social life, for the most part, and I did almost nothing but work towards the end degree. I graduate with an Associates in Graphic Design in June (but will continue taking a few web design classes). What if I would have applied the same consistent focus to losing weight? What if I would have buckled down and worked as hard to get healthy as I did to get a degree? Why do I care more about the career I'll have in the future than I do about the health I'll have? I have worked harder in the last two years than I have in my entire life so I am not afraid of putting in the work. I have kept my eye on the prize for two years so it's not that I'm just easily distracted by shiny things. So what's the deal? When I have 8am classes I get up at 5am to get there in time. There have been terms when I am at school from 8am to almost 9pm a couple days a week. Terms when I'm there most of the day, every day and doing homework all night and on the weekends. My life has been graphic design all day, all the time. And yet I can't eat the right thing or get any real form of exercise? Fail.

I once suggested that I should treat all of this as if it were one of my classes since school apparently means more to me than anything. Classes still got in the way. Here's what's on tap for next term (which starts Monday). The only design class I have is my portfolio class. Yes, we spend hours upon hours every Friday working on our portfolios. I stacked my classes in a way that this term is cake. Then, after that class, I volunteer in the design lab. I will be on campus from 9am to 9pm. All of my other classes (three of them) are online classes, which means I fit them in as I see fit. I know. In THEORY, this should make getting in exercise and such much easier. Online classes, however, still take a lot of time because I am essentially teaching myself how to do all of this. We shall see.

Yesterday I took some of my tax return and mama got a new pair of shoes. She also got a few new things to workout in, but hasn't actually tried them on yet. Regardless, here is my plan of attack. Most classes I take are 3 credits and I spend 3 hours in class twice a week. For Kelly 101 it will be 1.5 hours four time a week. That means exercise. Either in the gym or going for a walk or a hike or something involving consistent movement. Monday through Thursday at a scheduled time. I very rarely let anything keep me from class, so...very little should keep me from my exercise! Homework? Natch. By Monday I will be caught up on the blogs I follow (it's been way too long and I apologize) and I will keep myself updated on them. Homework is also where the healthy eating comes in...meal prep. This term ends mid June, just after I turn 34. I will be graduating. I will be starting the next chapter of my life and have no idea what life has in store for me. I hope to hell I'm facing all of it significantly lighter.

So, to any of you still reading this (bless your hearts), I'm inviting you to be my professors of fat. Keep on my ass. Give me assignments. Grade me. Make me your bitch! Come on. You know you want to.