My stomach hurts, and... yay?

It seems that my stomach achiness, why ever it may exist, might actually be some sort of life affirming blessing thing.  Cuz I'm gonna be honest here, my stomachache is the single greatest diet assist I have ever had.

I can't eat red meat.  Or cheese, or other milk stuff.  I can't have anything fatty, or fried, and I'm nervous about excessively sugary things.  I'm afraid of getting stomachaches, and that makes me afraid to eat.

Solution?  Well, not eating.

Okay, that's not toootally true.  Here's today's menu:

Breakfast:

Coffee

Plum

Slim Fast Meal Bar

Lunch:

Carrots and Hummus

At some point I had a little more coffee.

Dinner:

Baked Chicken and BBQ Sauce

Small Baked Potato with Light Sour Cream

Wilted Spinach and Cherry Tomatoes

Seriously?  Who eats like this?!?  Besides crazy annoying health nut jerks who I would typically choose to not be friends with, I mean.  Even on a diet, this seems ridiculously healthy to me.  And this is how I eat EVER SINGLE DAY.  Of course, tomorrow I'll get to change things up with things like broccoli, white rice, and if I'm lucky, A PEACH.  Look at me, going all crazy.

Yesterday things got a little hairy when I stuck my nose into Shane and Madelyn's In-n-Out bag and tried to inhale a Double Double through my left nostril.  That little smell-gasm will very likely be the most delicious meal of my week. It. Was. AWESOME.

But yeah, I'm losing weight.  158.5 today.  And not because I have the willpower to lose weight, (I would have eaten that tasty tasty burger yesterday without a second thought.  Maybe without breathing between bites.) but because I have the willpower to avoid painful stomach cramps.  So I eat whole foods, and healthy foods, and I keep the pain at bay, and I lose more weight.

Oh, right.  To top it off, besides some "it hurts to put any weight on my right foot" back pain, I am REALLY ENJOYING MY 3 MILE MORNING RUNS.  I've run 8 of the last 9 days since I'm taking off on Sundays, and it's this weirdly nice part of my day.  I'm actually looking forward tomorrow, so long as I can get my back iced and stretched enough to move in the morning.  

Even though I'm pretty sure I still look a remarkably similar to this guy:

I gotta tell ya, I don't even recognize my own life these days.  And if you think I've become some kind of crazy annoying health nut jerk, and you don't want to be my friend anymore, I totally understand.

I am a big fat liar.

Actually, I'm a nearly respectable 4-pounds-overweight liar, thank you very much.  Yeah... that doesn't make it better.  Cuz I'm still a liar.

For years now, actually 6 years now, I've been lying about 1 thing to 1 person.  Or, item.  I have been lying about how fat I am.

To my bathroom scale.

I know this seems wrong, maybe even impossible, without somehow screwing with the scale's brain mechanism, but I didn't do that.  And I'm not actually lying about my weight, beause the scale knows that.  Instead, I'm lying about my height.

My scale things I am 5'7".  I'm not.  I'm 5'6", on the dot.  It uses my height along with my weight to calculate my BMI score.  It was a mean trick to play on it, I know.  I'm not proud.  I lied to the scale so that it would lie back to me and tell me that I'm skinny.

Yeah.  How pathetic am I?

I say this, because today I saved a weigh in of 159.0, and my scale let me know that I was "healthy weight".  It looked so proud.  I just didn't have the heart to tell my scale that it was wrong, and that I've got to lose a good 4 more pounds before that fact will be true.

Some people say that lying is worthless, because the truth will always win out in the end.  All I can say is that the scale's compliment this morning, its "welcome to healthy weight status", felt cold and dry.  Because I know.  Even if my naive, trusting scale doesn't.

I know.

Whew, glad I got that off my chest.  Now a bright point:  I'VE LOST A HALF MARATHON!!!  Since the lose a marathon challenge started 6 weeks ago, I've made it half way there!  So from today, 7 weeks left, 13 pounds left, and I'm feeling like I might just be able to do it.  Which is freaking amazing.  At this stage in the game, the idea of averaging 2 pounds a week weight loss for 13 straight weeks seemed highly un-possible.  But so far, well... no jinksing it.

Happy day, y'all!  Go and enjoy yourself some Olympics if you need a little motivation.  Even watching this stuff is crazy exhausting.

Holy flaming balls of apple cider vinegar, Batman!

I'm not lactose intolerant.  At least, I'm pretty sure.  I'd taken myself off the stuff for a couple of weeks, and I still had stomach cramps.  So I took myself off diet soda.  Apparently Aspartame can also cause stomach cramps and what not, so I thought I'd give it a try.

I really think I might throw up.

Anyway, that didn't help either.

It was brought to my attention that one fun part about being in my family is that we have horrible issues with our gallbladders.  In fact, among the women in my family, gallbladders are becoming something of an endangered species, and pretty much all food (but mostly fatty food) can set some stuff off.

Oh good Lord I think I might need to go throw up. 

This whole week, I've been feeling better.  For the first time in months, I've been going throughout both day and night without feeling even that general sense of "yuck".  And then, ya know, tonight happened.

Tonight I had a bar-b-que chicken burger and some french fries.

Oh for frick's sake, just kill me now.

And it hurts.  Up under my ribcage, and bloating, and like it would just feel better if I could throw up, you know, just a little.  And then sharp pains between my shoulder pains...

So yeah, I admit it. I did something stupid.

I went on the freaking internet.

Don't. Ever. Go. On the freaking internet.

Cuz the internet told me that it would be a fantabulous idea to treat a "gallbladder attack", with a "straight shot of apple cider vinegar".

Good news:  I really don't care about my maybe-it's-my-gallbladder pain now.  Because I just learned that the primary use for a straight shot of apple cider vinegar is making you wish you were dead.

I gagged and coughed over the sink, fluids dripping out of each of my face-holes.  I flung myself violently around the room and tore at my clothes and prayed for the sweet release of death.

Husband: ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE YOURSELF THROW UP?!?

No, I wasn't.  At least, I wasn't under the impression that this was the true intention of my "remedy".  However, I'm not apposed to thinking that this may be a gigantic internet-wide prank being played on me.  Dang, I really should have checked Snopes.  If I can make it through the rest of this evening without VIOLENTLY VOMITING OVER EVERYTHING I OWN, I would consider this evening a success.

At this point, I don't care if I have gallbladder problems.  I don't ever need to eat fatty foods again.  They're not worth the pain, and the dumbass internet "remedy" is a far far worse thing than I have ever experienced before.

So I'm writing this as a reminder for the next time I feel enticed by a piece of pizza or a french fry.  Because I don't want to die.  Or ever, ever, ever be around vinegar in my life. Again. Ever.

Benefits of Fat-itude

I am not joking.  There are some definite benefits to being fat.

1:  You get the ridiculously awesome experience of knowing what it feels like to lose weight.

2:  You... are better protected against cold weather and punches?

Okay, so there's just the one benefit to being fat.

This past week has been very weight loss exciting.  I've gone down from around 164 last weekend to 159 today.  I'm running every day (12 miles so far this week), staying active throughout the day, and dieting like a champ.  And I'm losing weight fast enough that you can see it.  Well, I can see it.  It's kind of awesome.  I no longer look 4 months pregnant, I just look like I have a regular old chubby belly.  It. is. awesome.

I took my measurements today.  I have "initial" measurements from when I weighed around 169-170,  (since I just couldn't get myself to take them when I was still up closer to 180).  So along with the last 10 pounds, I've also lost:

1 inch from each arm
1.5 inches from each thigh
1.5 inches from my hips
2 inches from my waist
and 2.5 inches from the saggy baby-pouch that used to be my lower abdomen.

Seriously, I'm feeling crazy incredible this week.  The feeling of actually seeing your body transform before your eyes is so stinking exhilarating, I almost feel bad for those sad sad people who have never had to struggle with their weight.

I said almost.

Anyway, gonna try to hit the sack a little early tonight!  I've got 3 more miles to do tomorrow morning, during which I can contemplate this bizarre thing that I have become.

Night y'all!

Oh, PS:  Today I want to say something that I've been waiting for, since it's officially true:  Good lord no, I have NO desire to lose 40 more pounds.  That would be unreasonable.  That would be insane!  I want to lose a mere THIRTY NINE pounds.  THAT would be healthy and normal.

And, I'm assuming here, super mega hot.

PS numero dos:  I'm not saying these things to brag.  People who get to brag about their bodies typically don't have saggy belly pouches.  I'm just trying to give a little insight into how flipping awesome this kind of positive-movementy type stuff feels.  Cuz it's pretty flipping awesome.

Come on Fatso and just bust a move!

A muggy morning 5k run this morning helped propel me toward my new weight loss low since Baby 2!  After bumping back and forth between 163 and 166 this past couple of weeks, I plummeted through and hit 161!

As far as unlocked achievements go, today I am the same weight I was when:
1) I graduated from high school
2) I saw my husband's family over Thanksgiving of 2010.  This is the lowest weight his siblings have seen me since my wedding day.
3) I started dating my husband (like I keep saying, THIS is what he signed on for.  Everything down from here is gravy.)

::This is where I pause to booty dance around my living room::

The run was really slow, which has been a big theme of my runs lately, and my back ached from all the hours of yard work I got done this weekend, but just the same, I got 'er done.  It was cloudy and not too  terribly hot and it felt awesome.

But moving on.

I've been thinking about something the past couple of weeks.  I used to get Fitness Magazine, and I lived to read the weight loss success stories scattered throughout those pages.  I loved reading about the tricks they used to kick the weight issue, and loved seeing the before and after pictures and numbers.  Other peoples success is almost as much fun, almost as encouraging, as my own success.  At the same time though, I remember reading the extremeness of their stories (When I really felt the need to indulge on some sweets, I'd eat a piece of fruit, which is TOTALLY just as satisfying as a mixing bowl sized serving of ice cream!!) and thinking, yeah... I want to lose weight, but I'm not going to go that crazy.  I'm just not that kind of person.

Hey, guess what:  THAT IS WHY I AM OVERWEIGHT.

I've worked with and known dozens of drug and alcohol addicts in my life.  Before they're ready to really give up the ghost and go sober, they'll talk a lot about "cutting back a little".  Every time I heard that, I'd sigh inside.  I knew that it meant they weren't ready yet, that they'd continue to struggle and suffer until they finally made the choice to get serious about it.

I've realized it's exactly the same with weight loss.  Until I take my diet seriously, every day, and week, and month, and year, until I commit myself to regular exercise, I will continue to weigh more than I want to weigh.

As of today, I am officially 6 pounds overweight.  I have a goal to lose 40 pounds.

The question is this:  Do I want to lose 40 pounds more than I want to eat?

Today, right now, the answer is yes.   ... But we'll see about tomorrow.

Buzz buzz, you're still fat, buzz buzz.

That was my iPhone reminder that I haven't logged my caloric intake into my weight loss app today.  Maybe I don't WANT you to know what I ate today, iPhone.  EVER CONSIDERED THAT?!?

You're fat, stupid iPhone.

Another low point: my calendar just notified me that I have an appointment to weigh 158 pounds tomorrow morning.  It seems that I have absolutely no chance of making that appointment, unless, say, someone sneaks in and eats 5 pounds worth of my left butt cheek while I sleep.

If yesterday's donut-post wasn't sufficiently indicative, this weekend has been bad.  July, in fact, has been bad.  I started the month on a low, and if I manage to even log ONE flipping pound of weight loss by August 1, I'll have to consider it a win.  At this point, I'll take what I can get.

So all this to say, today, we learn a lesson:  If you surround yourself with "weight loss encouragements" when you're doing well, you've also surrounded yourself with "supremely harassy tormenting comments that make you want to break your expensive phone and karate chop things even though you have no idea how to karate chop so you look like a freaking tard" when you're doing less well.  So yeah, I've been appropriately shamed back into a diet and exercise regimen.  Which is another way of saying that I'm freaking starving and terrifyingly cranky tonight, thank you very much.

I've made some promises to me, and I don't like when I have to call me a big fat liar.  I have 8 weeks left to lose about 18 more pounds.  That's asking a lot, so we'll see how it goes.  I do NOT get to fall off the wagon anymore.  I'm pretty sure that if I do, the wagon is going to stop waiting and leave without me.  I have over 40 pounds left that I want to lose.  I want to run around 13 miles by the end of October, and I'd like to fit into some of the clothes that I currently own.

Oh, and also, I'd like to not look pregnant anymore.  Husband and I were wandering through a baby clothes store before we saw a movie on Friday (Dark Knight Rises MY FREAKING FACE OFF BECAUSE IT WAS SO FREAKING GOOD).  A woman came up to offer her assistance, and gave a very pointed look to my lower abdomen.  I sucked in my gut so fast I almost passed out.

So there you have it folks.  Lots of reminders to keep on this journey, since if you don't your electronics will mock you and sales people will make you pass out and probably die.

Buzz buzz.

There are donuts in my house. Today doesn't count.

A couple of days ago my mom came for a visit, and brought with her a giant and terrifying and life affirming (although not really all that life affirming) box of donuts.  Now, it had been years since I'd eaten a donut, so I guess I figured I was due.  Or some other really flimsy excuse to eat way too many donuts.

Spoiler alert:  I ate some donuts.

Then I learned that it's really hard to come back from donuts.  It's really hard to be productive after you've eaten donuts.  It's really hard to get dressed after you've eaten donuts.  It is technically impossible to exercise and accomplish things in your life when you started the day with donuts.  So I skipped lunch, and asked husband to bring home a pizza for dinner.  I made the crazy mature decision to eat exclusively crap for a whole day, but to minimize craps impact by only eating two crap meals.

I'm not saying I'm making good life choices. I'm saying that there are donuts in my house.

The Mostest Frustration Ever.

Quick follow up on the shoes:  It seems that I forgot how to wear shoes.  At least ones with big high pointy backsides.  Once upon a time, my old shoes broke and then I didn't replace them and then I was pregnant and wore mostly flats so now it's been almost a year since I've had to walk on super pointy heels and it's not very comfortable and kind of difficult to walk.  The End.

Now, on to the real stuff.  Today was one of those days that practically force you to eat like, everything in the everywhere, and then go cry yourself to sleep.  After an awesome (yes, I said it, AWESOME) day for my diet/exercise life yesterday, today the total jerk of a scale CLAIMED that I had gained two pounds.  I don't even know how that would be possible.  I've been subsiding primarily off of fruit and coffee (thanks, lactose intolerance, you big jerk, for making it so I have to subside primarily off of fruit and coffee) and I barely sat down all day.  Then I had sugar free Jello, which of course is the saddest of all Jellos, for dessert.  And after all of that awesomeness, I gained weight.

My body is a total, complete, jerk.  My body is my enemy, nay, my evil arch nemesis.  My body has no desire to lose weight, whatsoever.  Today, my body noticed that I was starting to cut back on my calories, and the stupid midichlorians (or whatever they're called) told my body to stop the weight loss from happening.  So today, I weighed more, and felt super sleepy, and had cravings for everything everything everything that make pregnancy cravings look like... like... like times when you feel relatively ambivalent about your food intake.

I.
Want.
Some freaking ice cream.

I would also like to eat 5 corndogs.  My craving would specifically like 5 corndogs.

Today has come to an end, and praise the Lord, I think I survived it okay.  Surviving days like today, when it all feels like a big foh-reaking waste of time and you're smacked with cravings that knock you on your chubby lil' behind, is the absolute key to success.  Days like today are the days when almost everyone quits, almost every single time.

But there is a key, there is something to help you survive it.  It's your brain.

You KNOW you can lose the weight.  You know what you need to do to lose weight.  Don't let your stupid body convince you it's not working.  Don't let you tell yourself that you're "just not a person who can lose weight".  As far as I can tell (as I used to think I was that kind of person) that person doesn't exist.  Everyone who stops eating crap and starts exercising will lose weight.  Ask the anorexics.  Not that I'm recommending that as a lifestyle choice, but still.  How often do you find a fat one because she "just can't lose weight", right?

So buck up, dear friend.  Stand tall, give your bathroom scale the finger, scream and cry about how much food you wish you could have, and keep on keepin' on.  You know that you're doing the right thing, and even though it doesn't work some days, it WILL work over time.

Booyah, stupid evil body nemesis.  The bad guy doesn't get to win this one.

Sad Shooz.

The cat chewed on my shoes.  I haven't even worn the dang things yet, and the cat chewed on them.  I hadn't even had the shoes in my home for 9 hours, and the cat. chewed. on. theeeeeeeem*.

I suggested to husband that at the ripe old age of 6, it might be about time to put the cat down.  Husband suggested that she might still have a few good years left in her.  I contested that maybe "good" was a relative term.  In the end, it was decided that while the shoes cost twenty dollars, having a rabid feline hunt your ankles while you get into bed at night, well that's priceless.

*All those extra e's represent the sound that one makes when they die because their stupid ass cat tried to eat their brand new freaking shoes.

SHOOOOOZ!!

First things first.  I'm proud of me right now.  I'm sleepy and so I want to eat.  But I managed to avoid the chips and snacked on some watermelon instead.  I really kind of want to reward myself with a big ass stack of cookies...

Okay, onward and upward.

Today is supremely monumental.  After nearly 4 months as a Stay At Home Mom, I am officially a Go To Work Mom once again.  Okay, that may be a bit extreme, today I went to Starbucks with the woman who had been working with my clients so she could catch me up on my caseload.  Basically, we chatted over coffee.  But for money, so it was work.

After my strenuous work day, it felt like some shopping was in order.  Also, the cat needed some food, so, ya know.  It all worked out.  Seeing as I haven't owned a decent pair of heels in over a year, I figured it was about dang time to get some new kicks.  So here you have it, thanks to Mossimo, my $20 of budgeted monthly blow money, and Target clearance, I bring you....

NUDE STILETTOS!!!!

 Now here ya go, sexy side pose of the sexy nude stilettos.  Make sure you've taken your heart medication before viewing, cuz it's just that sexy...

BOOM.

I know, I know.  You were thinking it.  You don't have to say it.  You can like BARELY EVEN TELL those legs were just pregnant a couple months ago.

Aw shucks, one more for good measure.

Apparently, it wouldn't be incorrect to say that I like my new shoes.

Nude colored shoes are all the rage (I think, unless they've already gone out of fashion, in which case I'd like to say both whoops and oh son of a crap) for a couple of factors.  One, they go with everything.  At least, they go with everything that goes with skin.  Number two, they supposedly make your legs look way longer by blending seamlessly into the carpet you're standing on.  Oh you crazy, sexy, chameleon shoes.

And yes, I'm wearing my sexy new shoes with pajama pants.  Like I said: Go. With. EVERYTHING.

Also, if you can in any way tell that my legs are hairy then... then........ shut up.  Nuh uh.  Your stupid legs are hairy.  My legs are... are... awesome.

Oh right.  I also dyed my hair again.  I like super dark hair.  It makes me feel like I'm a superhero and it's my super cool shroud.  Super.

Ahhh. Milk was a BAD choice.

I didn't post yesterday, but if you checked The Mondays, you'll see I did, faithfully, post my weight.  It's 165.  Which means that the week netted me a half pound loss.  It should have been better, but seeing how the week went, I was satisfied that I hadn't gained 5 pounds back.  That bit of grace definitely cheered me up.

But now, it seems, I have no reason to ever be happy again.  Ever.

Sorry, let me 'splain.

I've been having stomach cramps most days since my son was born.  I really wasn't sure why, but they weren't terrible and I wasn't paying that much attention.  But they seem to be getting a little bit worse, and suddenly today (after a pizza lunch and cheese enchilada dinner, no, I don't really expect to lose any weight this week either, in case you're curious,) I made a horrible realization:

Son of a crap.  I think I might be lactose intolerant.

So yeah, I guess I'm saying that my life is over.

SERIOUSLY though?  This totally blows.  And no, I'm not a big MILK fan.  I don't sit down with a big creamy nasty glass of milk, I'm not a disgusting freak, thankyouverymuch.  But I do like ice cream. And cheese.  And coffee cream.  And awesome things like pizza and enchiladas.

And yes, I can already hear you saying it.  "Wow, cutting out milk, and all the crazy incredible awesome stuff that comes from milk, is going to make going on a diet REALLY easy!"  But you're probably wrong, because I'm really good at finding loopholes.  (Do they make soy ice ream?  Cuz I bet they make soy ice cream.  And I bet when you put toppings all over it, it doesn't even taste that disgusting.)

So this next couple weeks will be an experiment in trying to make my stomach aches go away.  It will also be an experiment in seeing exactly how cranky Ashley can get when she's on an extra stupidly strict diet.  I'll bet the answer is pretty stinkin cranky.

Motivation things and the other things that kill the motivation things.

I just saw a woman with a freaking six pack on the television, and, and, holy poo bagels, I want to live inside of her body.  (Was that weird?  It wasn't meant to be weird.)

This week has been sad and distracting, for some legitimate reasons, and also things like homemade ice cream, and like Draw Something.  Have you guys ever played Draw Something?  IT IS ROCKING MY WORLD RIGHT NOW.  I just found it yesterday and I am absolutely terrible, but, if I do say something myself, creatively terrible, and I LOVE IT.

Oh, and that thing about homemade ice cream?  I don't have an ice cream maker.  I found a recipe that doesn't need it.  The entire recipe consists of heavy cream, sweetened condensed milk, and stuff you want to put in your ice cream.  The first time I tasted it (I made peanut butter chip and marshmallow in chocolate ice cream), I thought it was a bit odd. Almost TOO creamy.  But I was also immediately hooked.  Now, I don't want to eat any other thing ever.  Unfortunately, it's got about 3 times as many calories as normal, store-bought ice cream.

So in short, I'm totally screwed.

Tomorrow I'm supposed to weigh in and put that number on the internet because once upon a time I thought that would be a good idea.  Tomorrow, it will not feel like it was a good idea.

So I'm setting the expectation bar ridiculously, extremely, low:

If I'm not over 170, I'm okay with that.

If I haven't gained back every single pound it took me the month of June to lose, well, I'll call it a success.


Night y'all.  Tomorrow, company comes over.  Friday, I go back to work.  I'm not sure any of this is going to make dieting easier...

Sad Day and Weigh-In Day, all in one day.

At 5pm last night, my grandfather went to be with his Father.  It was terrible, and yet it was wonderful, and it was incredibly emotional.  There's a lot I'm going to want to say about this, but I really don't have it in me right now.  Thinking about it makes my whole body feel like it's made of lead, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't finish a post about it today.

What I will say though, is this:  I've been finding that running can be both incredibly cathartic and incredibly difficult during a period of mourning.  Deep breathing and the steady pounding of pavement with a soft breeze on your face, it's nice.  It's... I don't know, grounding.  Plus, something about endorphins.  But also, trying to run when you keep feeling like you've been punched in the stomach and your limbs are all made out of heavy metals... that's the difficult part.  I'm going to keep it up when I can, even when I don't feel like it, because at the very least, it sure feels a heck of a lot better than eating my feelings.

Because if you really and truly HAVE to be sad, would you rather be sad and fit, or sad and bloated?  It might sound a bit trite, but I'm instead choosing to call it a coping mechanism.  And you're not allowed to criticize my coping mechanism.  So there.

So on to normal blog business.  Today is Monday, which means that today is "Lose a marathon" weigh in day!  This morning I weighed in at 165.5, 3 pounds down from last Monday and 6.5 pounds down from the beginning of the contest!!  Just under 20 more pounds to go in the next 11 weeks, which really doesn't seem too bad.  Especially since yesterday (for the second day in the week) I actually got all the way down to 163.5.  I am rocking that boat CRAZY close to the 150's, which just plain ol' rocks.  In fact, maybe I'll hit 145 a little early, just to show 'em.  

Just so we're clear, if I'm coming across as overly glib, talking about this weight loss stuff doesn't mean I don't care about what's going on with my family right now.  I'll get around to the feelings and what not on some other day.  But my kids and my diet are really pleasant distractions from crappy feelings right now, and I'm choosing to hang out there for a bit.  So until I get around to talking about it, which I think I will one day, even if it's weeks or months from now, this will probably be the end of the conversation for the time being.  At least, as far as the internet is concerned.

So long, friends.  Thanks for all of the love, the kind words, the prayers, and the encouragement.