Monday, November 29, 2010

Twelve...

drummers drumming? Not so much.
pounds of Thanksgiving food in my belly? No...though it felt like it.
job offers? Eff you for making such a cruel suggestion.
pounds lost? Bingo!

Twelve seems to be a pretty significant number right now. One Twelve by Oh Twelve? Twelve pounds down? Only 100 more and about 57 weeks to do it in to make my New Year's 2012 goal. That's about all the blog I have in me today. We are alive. We are kicking. We are fierce.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Calorie King

blink. blink. blink.
I woke up and went next door to...wait, they'll wonder why I go next door to pee.

blink. blink. blink.
My bathroom...no, they don't really know I have a bathroom of my own yet, let alone that it's been undergoing remodeling for three months. Yes, three months. That's what happens when you let your brother...sigh, nevermind.

blink. blink. blink.
I moved into the house connected to...cheese and rice my brain is scattered this morning.

OK, I've been staring that this dagblasted blinking cursor for eons now trying to calm my brain and find a place to start and as you can see...epic fail.

Around the time of graduation, I worked on fixing up the house connected to mom and dad and summarily moved into it. No more stuff in storage. No more dealing with dad 24/7 or hiding in my little bedroom to avoid it. A slight, albeit modified, sense of freedom. Not having a job means I still rely on them for groceries/meals, that I'm not paying rent right now, and that I still feel like crap for each and every part of it.

Three months ago my brother started remodeling the bathroom (for which we are going to leave out all the details so that I don't go postal on a gallon of ice cream) so that I might some day get to take a shower in my own part of the house. This involved taking everything out of the bathroom and now I not only shower at mom and dad's, but go to the bathroom there as well.

Hence, this morning's debacle. I woke up...late...again...SFD (shitfuckdamn, the swear word trifecta)...and made my way over to M&D's with sleep still in my eyes. I walked by the living room and heard, "Hey..." I moaned in recognition of the somewhat primal greeting from my father and waited to hear, "Is it too late for you to go get us some breakfast?" I told him no and got all FML (fuck my life, the quick and to the point pity party) in the bathroom. I considered being strong and only getting him his breakfast of sin and me a coffee, but alas...my resolve, commitment, and will power were all still sound asleep and I was on my own as I headed to the King of the Burger (who is also some how reigning over the breakfast sandwich). I ordered. I came home. I ate. I looked up the calories. Enter more FML...here.

BK Breakfast Muffin 400 cal
Sausage Biscuit 420 cal
Creamer in my coffee 70 cal
Total 890 cal

Holy Mother of God and all things right and beautiful in the world...that's some breakfast. The real ball buster is that I was going quite often to Mr. McDonald's and getting far more than that or going at lunch and getting down right obscene. Oy Vey and OMG (If you don't know that one by now, you might as well crawl back in your cave and dwell).

So, that's how my day is starting and it will be finishing with a lot of meal skippage. I am suppose to cook dinner again tonight and the recipe IS dieter friendly, but I will have to be some kind of wonderful to get to enjoy it.

As for the routine I outlined a couple days ago...If you bump everything about an hour or two down in the schedule, I'm doing just fine.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

K9 Rituals

Every morning Lola wakes me up at whatever time she deems appropriate (usually based on how much movement she detects from me) and makes me take her out. If not for her I would likely sleep all day. On the average, she lets me sleep until 9:something (for which I love her for). After I take her out she puts around the house a moment making sure everything is as she left it the night before. You can almost hear her, "Bone? check. Snuggle blanket? Check. Bed in front of fire? Check." After assuring that everything is in order she heads back into my room and crawls under the covers to get some more sleep. I resist the urge to crawl back in with her no matter how tempting it may be and I start my day...however dreary it may be lately.

Sometime early afternoon she comes out and she seeks out the sun that may or may not be shining through my living room windows. It is Oregon, so those days are becoming rare, but if she finds it, she lays in it and follows it through the room all afternoon. She is committed to this part of her day and will often times contortion herself into awkward positions to achieve maximum sunning potential. Sun is on the wall behind the couch? Fear not, she will just lay on the back of the couch and rest her head on the wall (and, no, I am NOT kidding). If she doesn't find the sun, like today, she crawls under her snuggle blanket and commences with napping.

My dog has rituals. My dog gets up every day and, as long as I don't throw a wrench in her plans (which, let's be honest, wrenches are heavy and that would be like...exercise or something), she sets out to accomplish her goals. Granted, her goals aren't particularly lofty, but what she lacks in creativity...she makes up for with commitment. I need rituals. I need to have days where things happen in a certain order and there is structure. I need to have a schedule or I will inevitably do nothing.

So, here is my schedule for the first portion of my day...at least until I get a job.

8:00 am:
Pry my lifeless body from the clutches of my bed and take Lola outside.

8:15 am:
Participate in good hygiene with mundane things like teeth brushing and showering...shaving optional at this point. Get dressed in things that don't resemble sweats or pajamas (unless it's the weekend at which point, all bets are off). Blow drying hair and putting on makeup are optional until bathroom remodel is done (if ever done).

8:45 am:
Make a breakfast that makes me proud (and not in an "I can't believe I really just ate that" sort of way).

9:00 am:
Eat breakfast while using laptop for good; not evil. Look for a job, blog if the mood strikes, read blogs, check email(s), etc.

12:00 pm:
Make lunch in similar fashion as breakfast + more proud.

12:30 pm:
Clean up kitchen and various other household chores thus making me look productive(ish).

to be continued...

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

One Twelve By Oh Twelve

Two pounds. They say that you should not lose more than two pounds a week. It's not healthy they say. It's not...realistic (for most people). And yet, I have often asked my body to lose more than two pounds a week to reach some absurd goal set by my good intentions (or demons that had taken over my good senses...I'm not sure which). Some would argue that telling myself that I will lose X amount by X date in and of itself is sabotage. That I will just hate myself when it doesn't happen. And though "doesn't happen" is typically the norm for me, what if it DOES happen. What if I CAN do it? I did it once before. I told myself I would be under 300 pounds for my...26th birthday was it? It was a lofty goal requiring significant losses each week, but something had clicked in me then and I did it. I got on the scale that morning and for the first time in probably a decade, I saw a weight that didn't start with a three. That, combined with having done what I set out to do, had me floating on air for weeks. A loss in the family and a surgery had me right back up in the 300's where I have not only stayed, but seem to have moved in with all my things as if I would never leave.

So, whether wise or not, I'm setting another date specific goal. Only this time it's, dare I say, realistic. I'm asking my body to lose less than two pounds a week. I'm asking it to lose about 1.87 pounds a week. I have started the One Twelve by Oh Twelve challenge. I am going to lose 112 pounds by January 1st 2012. That is 60 weeks from now and, though it will require steady amounts of focus and commitment, it is completely doable.

But...I am asking you to help me. I'm asking any of you who still read to keep me going. To check in on me when you haven't heard from me to make sure I've not been swallowed by my couch. To perform an intervention if I am hold up in a shack somewhere mainlining Ben & Jerry's. To take the needle from me regardless of what wildly inappropriate things I offer for one more hit. To remind me of One Twelve by Oh Twelve. Better yet, I'm asking any of you with at least 112 pounds to lose to join me in the quest. Come on, you know you want to.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Succeeding at failure

I feel like crap. There, I said it. I've been nearly completely sedentary since school got out because, well, I'm depressed like no other. Yeah, I said that, too. I look for jobs and I play that game (which has even lost some of it's appeal for me lately). The rest of the time? I have no idea. All the days are running together for me. I'm not really watching much TV, not exercising, not socializing...that's for sure. I'm not doing meal preps, not planning my next great scheme, not honing my design talents. I clean every now and then. I take naps with Lola a LOT. I'm not really going anywhere...I can make $20 of gas last over a month usually. I've lost my spark...big time.

Have you ever been truly and utterly depressed? It's a viciously fucked up experience for sure. It's like you've been slipped one of those crazy drugs that paralyzes you, but you are completely aware of everything around you. You feel pain and emotions (although happy is an emotion that is scarcely apparent), but you are unable to move. You want to change, but you can't. You crave that happy person you were, but you can't find her. You could be on broadway with the acting skills you've acquired because you know that everyone in your world would implode if they knew how you were REALLY feeling. So, you pretend. Whenever you are around other people you pretend that everything is fine and nothing could get you down. You act as if you are completely in control. Well, you hate acting, but you are quite smitten with hiding...and so you do.

I haven't seen a single friend since I graduated. Until very recently, I hadn't even been to my sister's. My mom is convinced that, if not for the fact that my bathroom is still being remodeled and I need to use theirs, they would never see me even though I live next door. I've become a hermit. I've been depressed before, but it's only lasted a few weeks. This time, I can't quite seem to snap out of it. The only thing that I feel will do the trick is a job, but that has been nothing but crickets.

I feel like such a failure. Every day I eventually get out of bed and hate myself. That's a tough thing to face on a daily basis. I put on sweats and other stretchy garments and spend a couple hours convincing myself that hygiene is still important. I've abandoned water for diet pop, coffee, and tea. I won't eat until 2:00 and half the time it's fast food. I've gained back anything I lost and on the rare occasion that I do put on jeans, I am smacked with the reality that even my big jeans are tight. Enter more self-loathing...here.

I had a wow moment the other day, though. Something that has stuck with me for weeks and slowly pushed me into action the more I thought about it. Wait for it...

The only thing I've been consistently successful at is setting myself up for failure.

I know, right?! Since this is a weight loss blog (usually) we will address my failures as it pertains to that. Every time I recommit I set grand schemes full of good intention. I make unrealistic goals and jump in head first to a complete bog of failure. The logical person in me knows I cannot do it, but the blind optimist just says, "You go girl. You got this." And so I go...until I don't. I set out to run marathons, when I can't even walk a mile.

We are bypassing the "It's my Dad's fault" portion of my self-realization and fast forwarding to the "What do I intend to do about it" bit. I've decided that baby steps with a side of try harder is in order. Right now, every day that I move is a win. Every day that I eat breakfast is a win. More water, less pop? Win. No fast food? Win. These are the things I'm starting with. And what is my current weight loss goal? Tune in tomorrow and find out.