I know I said I wouldn't do it but I did. I stepped on the scale. Looks like I'm about the same as I was when this month started. That's not too shabby considering I have made it my mission to drink all the beer I could get my hands on this weekend. Curves started off well in August but I kind of haven't gone since the 16th. I tweaked my shoulder and then my co-worker's mom has been really sick (she passed away this morning) so I have been without my lunch time motivation of a workout buddy. I wouldn't say my eating habits have been the best but I try to balance the bad with the good so it's not as awful as it could be. I have still been walking the pooch every day and riding bikes with the hubby on the weekend. I have been busier than a one-armed paper hanger thanks to the boy's birthday prep so I think it all is going to be a wash this month and we'll give September a better go at it.
I'm going to try something new and go off of my Nuva-Ring and off the Zoloft. I think I am on the latter because of the former and I really think I need to just be drug free for a bit. I've been on an anti-depressant for years now and just put together the fact that I got on them shortly after I made the switch to the ring. My sister-in-law tried the ring for the first time and told me it made her feel like a crazy person so I got to thinking about stuff. I also think my regular usage of antidepressants have made them lose some of their efficacy. I noticed the same thing with my Zyrtec. When I was pregnant with Casey, I wasn't on anything and I feel like I was pretty even-keeled. It's worth a shot.
In order to do this, I know I will have to be very good about eating right and exercising regularly. I will have to be very aware of my emotions and any shifts in them. I also have to be prepared for the possibility I may get pregnant again. I have been hesitant to entertain the idea but it's something Husband and I have decided to give one more go at. If it doesn't work this time, it's done. I tell you, my kid turns 2 and shit gets real.
I was a big fan of the first Sherlock Holmes movie but never got around to seeing its sequel, Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, until... well... two weekends ago. I completely neglected to write about it because frankly I was too busy worrying about my co-worker and her dying mother and the fact that I had about 30 people scheduled to come over to my house for Casey's birthday party. Either way, we watched the movie but it was over the course of several attempts. I'm not sure if it didn't hold my attention because of what it was or how we were watching it.
Either way, it used a lot of the same slow-motion techniques as the first one during the fight scenes. Husband thought the story was very much in the vein of actual Sherlock Holmes mysteries. There was a lot of action and great scenery as well as a great cast of top notch actors. I wasn't as impressedwith The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo actress, Noomi Rapace, in this movie as I was with her in the Swedish Tattoo movies though. Oh well. This has to be one of the least enthusiastic movie reviews I've written of late. I really need to get back in the ol' blogging groove. I think today's funk is brought to you by lack of sleep and maybe a wee bit of a tiny hangover thanks to a super fun sleepover with BFF and Chacha. On a Monday. Yeah. I party hard.
I weighed myself today and am back at 211 after fluctuating a bit in the last week thanks to old Aunt Flo. Today is the last time I will weigh myself until next month's Curves check-in. I need to stop worrying so much about the numbers on that scale. What I do need to put that energy toward is effort. I have been to Curves 7 out of 13 days and that's what is important. I know that my problem is portion size, dessert and beer. I don't need to have more than one beer a night during the week. I don't need to have dessert EVER but it always seems to show up. And I need to be the one to control how much I eat.
What inspired this was my trip to Curves yesterday. We were talking about obesity. According to the BMI scale, I am currently obese. I would have to lose more than 50 pounds just to be in the "normal" weight range. I really just don't see that happening. But I need to stop looking at FIFTY and start smaller than that. My current goal is just to get to 200 for goodness sake. That's attainable. That's real. But rather than stress about it, I'll just do the best I can. I know Curves works, I just have to be the one to make the rest of my life work. I was running around after Casey all night last night, cleaning and gardening all weekend... that is being sabotaged by beer and snacks. By me. I'm owning that shit.
Also at Curves, one of the gals said I was chubby. That is not a very flattering word no matter the context. It's like being called sturdy by my uncle. I have a larger frame, it's true, but that frame does not need to be padded with chubbiness. The same lady is quite petite and told me to hide the scale, cut the carbs and stop with the beer. She was being helpful and it was coming from a very nice place. Most of all, she was encouraging. I can do this. I will do it.
As much as I would have liked to see The Campaign this weekend, it just wasn't in the cards. We had to clean the house, do some serious yard work and then celebrate my sister-in-law's birthday. I was getting pretty tired of watching the Olympics since all I seemed to catch was diving and running so I threw in The A-Team which has been sitting near the TV for a good two weeks. I went into it knowing it was going to be terrible so I ended up sort of pleasantly surprised. It was entertaining but definitely not plausible. The team itself was very likeable. Unfortunately, people seem to be under the impression that Jessica Biel can act. It's really too bad because she just can't. She is a lovely person to look at and has a wonderful figure but that's about it. Jessica, if you're reading this, stick to being Timberlake's arm candy or maybe modeling and just throw in the towel with this acting stuff. But as far as the actual movie goes? Lots of action, a good amount of laughs. I liked it. It beat watching another person jump into water. Christ on a cracker.
We also watched a Mitch Hedberg Comedy Central Special DVD that was unedited. You can catch the edited version here. I'd actually probably just do that. I don't know. I mean, I think he's funny but maybe not 40 minutes long funny. He died of a heroin overdose. At one point his joke was "I'm a heroin addict. I can only have sex with women that have saved another person's life." I don't know if that's funny now that he's dead. Because of heroin. Yeah...
I hate that word. When I write it I expect to see a teenage girl with her drapes pulled closed, lying on her bed and staring at a poster of Morrissey while listening to his sad songs. My depression is not like that. My depression is very much self inflicted and generally comes in the form of self loathing. I know right now my depression is running rampant and it's sad to think that the Prozac basically stopped working and I'm not convinced that the Zoloft has kicked in yet. Lots of people say that exercise is the answer but once the exercising is over, the thrill is gone and it's back to being in a funk.
Yesterday was a rough day. I woke up from a bad dream. Work was dreadfully slow and boring. I got weighed in and my results were disappointing at best. Then on the way home I got a call from my doctor telling me that while my bad cholesterol went down, my good cholesterol and triglycerides are high leaving him no other option than to put me on medication. "Mrs. Friday, low carbs and exercise, ok?" Well, ok. Every fucking day of the work week I eat oatmeal and salad and try to get at least 30 minutes of exercise and apparently that is not enough.
So what do I do? I drown my sorrows in beer and cookies. I do it on purpose! I intentionally sabotage myself. I was so ready to go in March, remember? Then I lost ten pounds and it all stopped. I no longer had the motivation to go to Curves as frequently. I started cheating a little more here and there by going out to eat and not sticking to one beer a night. And here I am. Depressed and chubby. "I eat because I'm fat and I'm fat because I eat. It's a vicious cycle." - Fat Bastard.
So I'm starting over on Monday. Sure I'll try a bit this week and weekend but realistically I am a giant ball of menses and I know I'm not going to give it my all. I'll have to bring gallons of water and buckets of chewing gum to work. I need to focus on eating smaller portions of better food. Snacks should be fruits and veggies and maybe not Dark Mocha Almond Kashi bars. My goal is to fit in those fucking tiny graphic tees if it kills me. You read it here. I need to do this. I need to get better.
My results should be MUCH better than this by now. I'm clearly doing something wrong and I believe that "wrong" is beer.
Since March 9, 2012
Down 2" (Up 3.5" since July)
Down 6 lbs. (Gained 4 lbs. since July but my period starts today I think)
Down -4.25 body fat pounds (up 1.1 since July)
I only went eleven times last month so that could definitely be improved upon. So far I have only been four times in August but I'm on the list to go to Zumba tomorrow and plan on going Friday. I'd like to get there four to five times a week. I don't see any reason not to other than sheer lack of motivation. I've been consistently good about eating my salads for lunch but I have really not been great about not snacking. Still no candy dish, though. So there's that.
I'm extremely disappointed in myself and I think the period has a lot to do with that. I weighed 215 and that was after 2 cups of coffee, my oatmeal, a chocolate chip cookie an a granola bar. I was wearing a sports bra, a wife-beater style tank top, my spandex-y pants, underwear and socks. I give that a naked 213? I was so stinkin' hungry after my work out I was tempted to just run and get a damn cheeseburger but I didn't. I sat and ate my salad. And I'm going to drink this big ol' Sigg bottle of water. And I'm going to hope I drop a five pound deuce. And I guess tomorrow is a new day, right?
We're going to the fair tonight with just me, Husband, Casey and Grandpa Dough. Should be real fun. Can't wait to see if Casey will ride an actual pony as opposed to jumping on me and his dad and screaming "More horse!"
Husband is working up here this week so I was able to go to sleep early last night. I think I might have had a bit of a hangover which always seems to be a sign of a good weekend, especially if it falls on a Monday. The good here is "SLEEP."
We really did have a very, very nice weekend. We went to BFF's house on Saturday and partied down and ate yummy food and drank delicious beer with the Amezquitas while watching our four children play happily together. Then on Sunday Husband & I saw Batman and I got to take a nap and then Kitty came to dinner. I mean, there is just no complaining when I see that many peeps I dig over the course of two days.
Our budget seems super tight this month despite the three pay days.
I have been very bad at cracking open books lately. Why? The Olympics? Gossip websites? Words with Friends? Ugh.
I can't say I've been very good at dieting or going to Curves. I suppose I'm maintaining, which is better than nothing. Looks like 211 is my lucky number. Weigh-in is at the end of this week and it's period week so I don't think my results will be stellar.
I have a stupid addiction to graphic tees thanks to this website and
ordered a girls' XL. I even measured based on their size chart and
thought it would be a go. I got the tee yesterday, a darling take on Jim
Henson & Kermit in the style of Calvin & Hobbes and it was no
less than skin tight. Man. That shit sucks.
This picture that shows the mark of the Batman above my left eye which is still rocking some serious redness from the stye I got months ago. My mom says it's a "pregnancy mask" and I have it because of hormones. All I know is a bunch of my face is brown.
And finally, the girth captured here. What should be a shining moment of a mother at play with her best friend's child is now a reminder that I'm a great big fat person.
It took two weeks for us to finally get to the theater to see The Dark Knight Rises, the final installment of the Christopher Nolan trilogy. Opening weekend was never really an option and then tragedy struck. The following weekend I just didn't feel ready to go. Even this weekend, there was a bit of trepidation. Was it too soon? For instance, at least thrice the theater employee checked the exit doors during our viewing. Did I notice that? Fuck yes I did. Did I also wonder during each shooting scene if that was the scene during which that madman opened fire on an unsuspecting audience? Yes. I did. And each time, I felt that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Much of the cast of Inception rounds out the players in this installment of the trilogy and all of them work together seamlessly. Christopher Nolan definitely knew what he was doing by throwing them all into Batman's world. I really can't say a single bad thing about this movie. At 2 hours and 40 minutes, it has a lengthy running time but I didn't feel like it was long while I was watching it. Bane's voice was distracting in the sense that it was nearly Sean Connery-ish. The performance Tom Hardy had to provide to really make you believe him behind that mask more than made up for it though. There's so much I want to say but I don't have any words. Anne Hathaway did not let me down as Catwoman. I love Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Like the preceding two movies, I was not disappointed with the grand finale.
And as the end of the movie wrapped up, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. That has happened before in a movie, but not for a long time. I wept at Toy Story 3 but I was also pregnant and hormonal. With Batman, as I watched his story come to an end, my heart hurt. It felt like I had just gotten news that a friend had died. Was it the story line? The characters? Was it the tragedy forever associated with the movie? I don't know. I just know I sobbed for a good 15 minutes and Husband said it was because I had gone through an emotional roller coaster as a movie viewer. I have to agree. I laughed, I cheered, I got disgusted and I was literally on the edge of my seat. I can't think of a better way to say goodbye to this very "real" Batman. A+
Well, July was a bust, in no uncertain terms. On the 1st of July I had a
weigh-in of 209. Today is the 1st of August and I'm at 211. I only went
to Curves 11 times last month. That's not good at all. I guess I can
hope for the best in August. We have no out of town visitors this month.
No excuses not to exercise. No huge dinners every night for two weeks
in a row.
I have to admit, I'm not at all motivated. I'm sure this is the PMS
typing but I'm achy and sore and I'm just not in the mood to give a
shit. I still eat my salad for lunch and oatmeal for breakfast. I'm well
past 6 months without dipping into the work candy jar. I stopped
counting weeks. It's just the way it is now. I was looking back at old
posts where I was mortified to weigh 175 pounds whereas right now I'd
give my left tit to weigh that much again.
I guess the silver lining is that the doctor was quite pleased with me
when I went last week. I had lost 4 pounds since my prior visit. On the
7th I go for a blood test to see if my cholesterol is any better. I just
don't want to think about this any more. I'm bored of it. I can only
imagine how boring it must be for you to read about.