Lessons Learned

This week was really hit and miss for me. My goal has been to make it through a 2 week carb-free (essentially, though I do eat greens and non-starchy veggies) period w/o cheating. In the past, when I have been able to do that, it is fairly smooth sailing for me. Now, I struggle to make it four days.

I'll do really well for about four days, then I'll take a little taste of something, which turns into me derailing my entire effort. Lame-oh. I realized this week, though, what some of my big triggers are, so in a solid attempt to stop dinking around here, I'm going to try and avoid them.

The first is booze. This should be fairly obvious, but I think I can out-think her every time. Out at a bar, I'm fine, no real temptation to snack or eat (it's probably just the cheapskate in me), but if I'm at home or at a friend's house, a couple of cocktails and I'm ready to go from picking at crudite to inhaling a pizza in one fell swoop. So, for at least the next two weeks, I'm off the booze. Sadface, no? I typically don't drink that much, and get drunk like once in a blue moon (or harvest moon, as was my most recent case. Seriously, it had been many, many months. Here's to overnight babysitters, folks) but I like to have a glass of wine or two (though that's been pretty much nixed by this whole low-carb business) or a cocktail a couple of nights a week. I guess I'll just nurse my club soda and diet ginger ale while looking longingly at the Maker's Mark bottle for the next 14 days.

The second is honestly a bigger struggle for me. It's feeding the kid. Back in the day when she ate blended up sweet potatoes or rice cereal or any of the other pureed crap I could have cared less about her food (I know, I'm as surprised as the rest of you). But now, amid her mac and cheese and peanut butter sandwiches, I struggle. Kids' food is comfort food, and it is really hard for me to say no to. It's much more difficult for me to not steal a quarter of her pb&j than it is for me to say no to a plate of desserts at a restaurant. First, there's the convenience aspect of it. If I eat her food, I won't have to make something else for me. Second, it doesn't seem like a huge deal at the time. Her portions are so small that it's like taking a few nibbles. But those nibbles turn into me eating half a pan of macaroni and cheese hovering over the stove while she throws hers onto the dog's head.

I'm still not quite sure what the solution is to the babyfood problem. I mean, the kid has to eat. I suppose I could start feeding her more of the things I'm eating (eggs, string cheese, plain yogurt) but eventually the tiny one is going to eat a bowl of oatmeal or have a sandwich and I'm going to have to not eat the leftovers. One idea I have had is to put away what she won't eat immediately. For instance, she never eat's a whole sandwich, so I can wrap up half and put it away, and if she wants more, get it out for her rather than leaving it out in case she wants it.

So, I'm going to try this, folks. I will start my two weeks tomorrow, with a weigh-in, and then not weigh myself until the two weeks are over. I'm thinking I should do measurements too. I'm also starting in on my exercising. I've got quite a few dvds (Jillian Michael's 30 day shred, Barre Method, Beach Body) and I still plan on walking most days this week. Also, I'm ready for my brother-in-law to start working me out now.

Here's to working hard for these two weeks. I know that if I can make it through them, it will make transitioning to a life of low-glycemic, healthy carbs a lot easier for me to do long-term. Fingers crossed, and mind set.

Ok. Ok. Ok.

Friends, Romans, Countryladies and gents, lend me your ears. I'm a horrible blogger/weightloser/healthyperson. At least, I have been for quite a while now. Then I (pardon the grossout factor here, folks) Aunty Flo showed up, and never left. Like NEVER left. I spent 5 weeks in disgusting hell, and after an emergency room visit, a few doctor's appointments, a crapton of progesterone and birth control pills I finally have a plan of action. I knew I had PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), at least, I thought I had it, but had never had it confirmed w/ an ultrasound. Now I know, folks. It's the cause of my jacked-up lady-biz, the reason I struggle to lose weight, and a myriad of other stuff that's problematic in my life. My doctor told me that basically I'm going to need to be on a low-carb diet for the rest of my life (shocker, right?). PCOS often has insulin resistance associated with it, which means I really struggle to process sugars and the whatnot. She says if I can lose 10 percent of my body weight I should start to see some improvements, and the lower my weight gets (within reason, obviously) the fewer problems I will have. So, I've embarked. I started a few weeks ago and am fifteen pounds down (unfortunately, these are pounds I lost earlier this year and regained). I've had a few days of carbohydrate indulgence that I'm sure slowed progress (and made me feel like garbage the next day), but overall I can see the results and I feel pretty good too. I'm so happy to live in a neighborhood where I can step out of my door and go for walks. I exercise so much more now that I live here (and since I have a sister-wife walking buddy) than I have in the past few years. I haven't gotten into anything hardcore, but I'm moving almost every day. I'm getting ready to start working out more intensely, since losing weight motivates me to move even more. And, I'm hoping I'm back, here. I need an outlet, and this has always helped me in the past. Plus, it's fun when I write here, right? I think it is. No promises or anything, but I'm going to try (we've heard that before, right?)