Baby Steps

Living with the band is slowly changing my habits and lifestyle bit by bit.

*Breakfast:  A few bites of leftover pizza.  I had to put away the rest.  It just wasn't gonna go down...not even with that cuppa coffee.  So I called it quits...
*Lunch on the go:  I ordered a chicken sandwich, picked off half the bun, ate a few fries...and I was done.  It took 30 minutes for me to do this.  I used to wolf this meal down (large fries too with a full diet coke) in under 6 minutes...
*Dinner-A few bites of rice, which I didn't enjoy.  So I settled on a salad.  Felt a little stuck so it took 25 minutes to eat half of it before giving up.  Managed to finish it an hour later.

And that's ALL, folks!

So yes, maybe these food choices aren't the perfect "diet" food-but I love how the band prevents me from gorging and binging.  I'm getting there...a few bites at a time.

BTW-I've exercised every day this month!!!  So I bought myself a new pair of yoga pants...and hubby sounds my be-hind is looking HOTTTTT!!!!!

Kissing Onederland

My scales have been kissing onderland (thanks Libby for that expression!) on and off for the past week.  What a tease those scales are!!!  Sitting at 200 lbs is a stalling point for me.  I have been here before....then ballooned again with another 30 plus pounds-in the blink of an eye.  The 200 number makes me nervous and antsy-which makes me wanna snack on salty chips....  Why? Why? Why???  Why is this barrier so difficult-emotionally & physically???  Why do I sabotage myself when I get to this point???  I want to be DONE with this number.  But I'm not eating like it.  On the good news front, I have managed to keep my goal of daily exercising (...and have even liked it a few times...there-I said it).  But I know that I also need to "diet" and eliminate carbs.... the thought of which makes me wanna pilfer my pantry.  So at the end of the day-I need to FIGHT for the the 90's.  And I guess I'm tired of fighting, honestly...  The truth is I wanna slide into the 90's without having to work it...   And we all know that ain't gonna happen....never does.  So  I gotta muscle my way through...  So I'm considering a new goal:  195 by Jan 31st... and that means protein shakes...and control...and perserverance...and saying NO to the salty crap...  and kicking my inner lazy-whiny-fat bitch-to the curb!  ....sigh...  Maybe...

Dysfunctional Scales

I have been weighing myself on an ancient, rusted set of bathroom scales for ages now.  These scales were cheap when I bought them-and have not improved with age.  They're banged and dented and dusty.  But I keep stepping on them anyway.  And in spite of the fact that I have to squint to see the numbers, I have to adjust the needle each time I step on them,  I never get two consecutive readings (she's a fickle bitch!), and they are around 4-7 lbs off (to my favor) from the doc's scales, I cannot throw them away.  And hubby has threatened to on several occasions.  He even wanted to buy me a new set for Xmas.  But the thoughts of losing these scales creates a flutter of anxiety in the pit of my gut.   No!!!!  And start my day without being taunted and haunted?!?  Inconceivable!...  We've been fighting the good fight now for ages.  She's seen me through every horrifying number-back and forth we've made this agonizing journey together.  Simply:  she's been my reality-in spite of her imperfections.  So for the past few days I've been getting up all bleary eyed at the crack of dawn to stand naked (after peeing) on a particular floor tile to weigh in on her after adjusting the needle 7 times (oh! the rituals we suffer....) and because of the dim lighting and the inconsistent readings...she's been toying with me, playing mind games...  but this morning I was ready for her... she can no longer deny the truth.  I am sitting in onederland.   I haven't seen this number since 1998.... I thought this moment would involve a parade, a marching band, a full page add in the paper, and naked cheerleaders.  However, I am feeling a much more quiet and resolute pride than I expected.  Kinda like the climbers who stand on the top of Mt. Everest and report that what you expected to feel is not quite as poignant as expected-considering the mind numbing effort it took to get there.  Because the reality is those climbers have to get down that mountain-a much more difficult feat than the ascent.  And I too have further to go.  But I am here....finally... and glad of it.  And those 'ol scales...fickle-hard-to-please-untrustworthy-bitch that she is... she's gonna be right there with me when we get to the bottom....grudgingly showing me the way.

Oh, %$#!

I nearly blew my resolution on Day 2 of the New Year -that is, daily exercising for 31 days in January.  I had had a great day until my ah-ha moment struck:  church with family, a movie with girlfriends, a late coffee/lunch out...  And then it hit me at 9:22 PM as I sat in my comfy jammies, reliving the day with hubby when a weight loss commercial flitted across the TV screen... Oh, %$#!  I FORGOT!!!...  Hubby and I sit in silence for 5 seconds...when he hollers up the stairs for the boys to get off the XBOX and let your mom do her exercise video!  So yes, I got out of the comfy jammies (ie: put on the bra) and wearily climbed the stairs for a 15 minute yoga session...  and you know what...???  I am sooooooo GLAD I did.  I felt...good...stronger...resolute.  And guess what???  The world will not implode if you exercise after the sun goes down...  Good to know...