So I didn't get my cast off on Monday. I thought about throwing a royal hissy fit a la a spoiled three-year-old, but decided to try to be an adult and not run out of the door after they cut off the last cast screaming "FREEEEEEDOM!"
I have accepted the fact that I will be in the cast for another month, until Feb. 17th at 1 p.m. to be exact. I'm not ahem...counting down or anything....
Besides that - nothing new to report. I had a nice salad for lunch. But I picked up McDonald's on the way home for dinner. They cancel each other out right? Right?
Stay tuned....
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
T Minus 16 Days
Here I sit - 16 days away from starting Weight Watchers. I want cake.
The last month has been the craziest of my whole entire life. It all started with ice skating...
I decided that before we left Chicago, I wanted to go ice skating. The date was set, the friends were invited and the day finally came!
And I fell and broke my stupid wrist.
This would't be so bad except for the fact that we were moving across the country in 4 days. Luckily we have beautiful friends who helped us finish packing and helped my poor husband load the truck.
Side note: I don't recommend driving for two days straight after you've broken your wrist. And please don't tell my doctor I did that.
So, thanks to my beautiful family and more beautiful friends, we got everything into the apartment and mostly set up.
Other than that I just hate this cast beyond everything that has ever existed in the universe and I am considering letting the dog chew it off.
All of this to say - working out it generally out of the picture until I heal - which could be Monday or it could be 6 months from now. (If you're ever bored, just look up how long it takes for a scaphoid navicular to heal when it it broken...fascinating reading)
Success!!! We went grocery shopping last night and I bought salad, tomatoes, and vinagrette dressing. I'm preparing myself.
16 days until the official starting weight...stay tuned
The last month has been the craziest of my whole entire life. It all started with ice skating...
I decided that before we left Chicago, I wanted to go ice skating. The date was set, the friends were invited and the day finally came!
And I fell and broke my stupid wrist.
This would't be so bad except for the fact that we were moving across the country in 4 days. Luckily we have beautiful friends who helped us finish packing and helped my poor husband load the truck.
Side note: I don't recommend driving for two days straight after you've broken your wrist. And please don't tell my doctor I did that.
So, thanks to my beautiful family and more beautiful friends, we got everything into the apartment and mostly set up.
Other than that I just hate this cast beyond everything that has ever existed in the universe and I am considering letting the dog chew it off.
All of this to say - working out it generally out of the picture until I heal - which could be Monday or it could be 6 months from now. (If you're ever bored, just look up how long it takes for a scaphoid navicular to heal when it it broken...fascinating reading)
Success!!! We went grocery shopping last night and I bought salad, tomatoes, and vinagrette dressing. I'm preparing myself.
16 days until the official starting weight...stay tuned
The Beginning
Hello all...
I've decided to create a blog to journal my adventure in weight loss. Fun..fun..
All of the articles/books I've read say that you need to write down everything you eat. But - I've decided that the problem is not with food - initially anyway. My problem is with my attitude/feelings/self-image/everything Jillian Michaels tells people on The Biggest Loser.
While I will probably end up writing down everything that passes my lips - this is a good place to start.
Let's begin at the beginning - a very good place to start... (get it? anyone?)
I was born. Just kidding.... Okay - so I was a chubby kid. I wasn't a fat kid. I just wasn't all elbows and knees like most of the other girls my age. I had baby fat. I hung on to it until 8TH GRADE. Seriously. But first-there was fifth grade. Hell on earth. First, I'm started to get interested in boys, mostly boys in my class because they were the ones that I interacted with on a regular basis. But there was a problem - these boys were 11 and 12 years old. As far as my expectations for maturity, they were so far below the bar that pole vaulting wouldn't even get them halfway to the goal. And, as fate would have it, acne struck early. So - most interactions with the opposite sex went as follows:
"Hi Josh"
"Why don't you go back to zit-ville?"
Short - Simple-Scarring
Then there was this taunt:
"MOOOOOOO!"
Always good to hear yourself being compared to bovine - really does wonders for the ol self-esteem.
But, things change, as they always do.
Eighth grade baby!!! Lost the baby fat - lost the braces - started wearing makeup. BAM!!! Hello boys! Luckily - I was sane enough not to date any of those pubescent name-calling morons. I set my sights higher - toward the bright and shining beacon of high school.
High School was awesome - with a few bumps.
I got down to 115 my freshman year - due to an emotionally abusive relationship - stupid boys. Sophmore year - I balloned to 140 trying to recover from aforementioned relationship.
Junior year was glorious - I started eating better and exercising. I healthily got down to 117 pounds. I then evened out the next couple years at a "happy" weight of 125.
Then I went to college. I didn't gain the freshman 15. I just steadily gained until graduation. Then, I steadily gained through marriage, a master's degree, and a year of teaching.
The death-blow to my health was a move to Chicago last year. 1 year - 20 pounds and now NONE of my clothes fit. I look in the mirror and don't even recognize that person. And then I get mad at myself and go and eat some more. Pizza when I'm sad. Chinese when I'm in a celebratory mood. There seems to be no middle ground.
My current job has me sitting at a desk 9-10 hours a day, commuting home and picking up handy-dandy McDonald's on the way home because I have no time to cook. Well - I tell myself I have no time to cook.
So....after a move to Austin (closer to home and all the support I could possibly want) - I've decided to give Weight Watchers a try. Obviously I'm not doing it on my own - so I need the support. I will be starting in February.
I will here share all of my triumphs and failures, goals and ...help me...even my weight.
Stay tuned...
I've decided to create a blog to journal my adventure in weight loss. Fun..fun..
All of the articles/books I've read say that you need to write down everything you eat. But - I've decided that the problem is not with food - initially anyway. My problem is with my attitude/feelings/self-image/everything Jillian Michaels tells people on The Biggest Loser.
While I will probably end up writing down everything that passes my lips - this is a good place to start.
Let's begin at the beginning - a very good place to start... (get it? anyone?)
I was born. Just kidding.... Okay - so I was a chubby kid. I wasn't a fat kid. I just wasn't all elbows and knees like most of the other girls my age. I had baby fat. I hung on to it until 8TH GRADE. Seriously. But first-there was fifth grade. Hell on earth. First, I'm started to get interested in boys, mostly boys in my class because they were the ones that I interacted with on a regular basis. But there was a problem - these boys were 11 and 12 years old. As far as my expectations for maturity, they were so far below the bar that pole vaulting wouldn't even get them halfway to the goal. And, as fate would have it, acne struck early. So - most interactions with the opposite sex went as follows:
"Hi Josh"
"Why don't you go back to zit-ville?"
Short - Simple-Scarring
Then there was this taunt:
"MOOOOOOO!"
Always good to hear yourself being compared to bovine - really does wonders for the ol self-esteem.
But, things change, as they always do.
Eighth grade baby!!! Lost the baby fat - lost the braces - started wearing makeup. BAM!!! Hello boys! Luckily - I was sane enough not to date any of those pubescent name-calling morons. I set my sights higher - toward the bright and shining beacon of high school.
High School was awesome - with a few bumps.
I got down to 115 my freshman year - due to an emotionally abusive relationship - stupid boys. Sophmore year - I balloned to 140 trying to recover from aforementioned relationship.
Junior year was glorious - I started eating better and exercising. I healthily got down to 117 pounds. I then evened out the next couple years at a "happy" weight of 125.
Then I went to college. I didn't gain the freshman 15. I just steadily gained until graduation. Then, I steadily gained through marriage, a master's degree, and a year of teaching.
The death-blow to my health was a move to Chicago last year. 1 year - 20 pounds and now NONE of my clothes fit. I look in the mirror and don't even recognize that person. And then I get mad at myself and go and eat some more. Pizza when I'm sad. Chinese when I'm in a celebratory mood. There seems to be no middle ground.
My current job has me sitting at a desk 9-10 hours a day, commuting home and picking up handy-dandy McDonald's on the way home because I have no time to cook. Well - I tell myself I have no time to cook.
So....after a move to Austin (closer to home and all the support I could possibly want) - I've decided to give Weight Watchers a try. Obviously I'm not doing it on my own - so I need the support. I will be starting in February.
I will here share all of my triumphs and failures, goals and ...help me...even my weight.
Stay tuned...
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