Day 7... Time to talk about food!

Yesterday...

Day 6:

5:30am—Got up to do the Dirty 30 workout before church, felt like a superhero.

7:00am-- Told my husband that I felt AMAZING and was doing better and feeling better, even on less than average sleep. Planned to be up at 5:30am every day for exercise. 

7:10am-- Contemplated what color my cape should be. Decided on Aquamarine.

10:30am—Felt like a lead footed coma patient who was being asked to walk around like a regular human.

12:00pm—Had to watch and smell other people eat pizza while I had a salad with a half serving of chicken, 1 1/2 tablespoons of dressing, skip the cheese. Decided there should be some sort of bonus award for this kind of restraint.

12:30pm—Hoped the award would be pizza…

2:30pm—Passed out on couch. Never to move again.

 So, that was most of yesterday. In the end I also did my weekly grocery shopping trip

I keep wanting to talk about food. I mean, always, yes, I want to talk about food. You don't get chunky if you don't have some pretty serious feelings about food.  But this is different. I want to talk about healthy food.

UGH. Emirite?

I’ve been having mixed feelings about my food choices during this program. At the beginning, all my feelings were positive.

I’m always full!  These foods are actually good! YAY FOR HUMMUS!

So for an example of some of my eatings:

This is my favorite breakfast. 1 serving of nonfat Greek Yogurt, 1 serving of fresh berries.

This is my favorite lunch. A 6-inch whole wheat tortilla with hummus and an assortment of fresh lettuce and vegetables. It looks weird because once upon a time it was an 8-inch tortilla, but that was two inches too big, so it got downsized.

This is my to go pack version of the same lunch. This is how I avoid fast food on work days.

This is one additional breakfast, that was also pretty awesome. Although I prefer cold breakfast to hot I think, 2 eggs, sautéed peppers and onions, fresh cilantro and tomatoes, was also a good way to start the day.

So the point is, real food. Decent food. Small changes have been made, homemade vinegrette instead of bottled soy or teriyaki sauce, mashed cauliflower instead of mashed potatoes, brown rice instead of white, and of course, watch those portions!

But,

this past weekend… I’m gonna admit it. I was grumpy.

Soooo grumpy. I mean, I’m not naturally prone to coolness and popularity, but this past weekend, even I didn’t want to be my friend. I tried to put one of those “Kick Me” signs on my back, but I’m still pretty sore from all the exercising so it wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped. But still. Kick Me.

I have discovered, I think, that once again, I was my own Grandpa. No. Enemy. I always mix those up. I was my own Grand-Enemy, in that, even though I was doing the right exercise and eating the right foods, I may not have been eating the right foods in the right way. Ooooooooooh. By this I mean, I was really lazy about getting food the last few days, and didn’t eat much of anything before noon. So food gets pushed into the evening, I’m skipping proteins, and feeling exhausted and oh so very terribly grumpy all day long.

Or maybe I’m just getting my period. 

Probably one of those.

Oh, one last thing. This year’s Root Vegetable Weight Lifter of the Year competition goes to…..

Arnold Schwarzen-tubber!

…

Sylvester Spud-llone!

...

Jean Claude Van Yam!!!

Yep. That's it. That’s the one.

Rumor has it he juices.

Time Out for GENIUS

Today is Day 3 of 21. The workout went far better than expected. Today was my first day with thoughts of "I wish I could eat ______". I think I got a little bummed out when

1- My weight which had dropped 2 full pounds by the end of Day 2, jumped back up 1.5 pounds,
and
2- Friend of mine, (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), told me that she's at the end of this same challenge, enjoying it, but hasn't lost an ounce.

And between those two things, I became suddenly a little down, a little fatalistic. HOWEVER. That's not helping. I shall not allow the evil brain to come back and convince me to stop trying and to dive almost literally back into the cookie jar. No, Evil Brain. NO.

But time out. Because Guys? I totally invented a Pinterest.

So one problem that I'd been having since I've been doing breakfast shakes, is that I try to drink them in my awesome mason jug thingy, as seen here:
 

and then I inevitably gunk up the straw with kale flecks or powdery shake stuffs, and then I get skeeved out and never want to use it again.

The question "how can I make my reusable drink mug actually reusable?" has plagued me for years. YEARS I tell you.  Which is sad, really, when the answer was lying around my house the whole time.

I can't take it anymore. I have to tell you. It's yarn. YARN! My favorite thing has a new use!

Look at me! I'm a genius!!

I know that you get it already, but other people who figure stuff out get to list steps. I wanna list steps. So ehem.

All you have to do is:

1) Drop a thin strand down side till it emerges from the other end (if it doesn't want to go, you can kind of blow on it. That worked for me.)

2) Add water and some dish soap

3) Hold the ends of the yarn in one hand, the straw in the other, and just pull it top to bottom while slowly rotating the straw. The course fibers are awesome little scrubbers, and within no time, your nasty skanky gross out straw is so fresh and so clean clean!

I like Bubbles.

If anything, I'm a little annoyed that it took me this long to properly clean out all my water bottle straws. I mean, there is no substance more plentiful in my home (besides, maybe, cracker crumbs) than yarn. I could knit my whole house a sweater if I wanted to. I'm saying I've got a problem. So you see, the solution that evaded me for so long was right under my nose... or rather, in the ottoman under my feet... and in a tub under my bed, and a little hiding in the hatbox in my bedroom closet.

Well, that's really all I've got for you tonight, Folks. But if this little piece of genius isn't enough for you, then, you've got some real problems, my friend. The first of which being ridiculously high expectations for this blog.

Now, I'm off to go use my powers for Good, and find what other dilemmas that Yarn and I can solve tonight!*

*This is the part where I was going to create for myself a superhero called Yarn Man or Yarn Girl or something like that and then I thought, wait a minute, duh, the internet exists. And also, apparently, so does Yarn Man, copyright someone else.

Don't string him along, he's YARN MAAAAN!!!!!!!

 I can only assume this is Yarn Man's sidekick: The Crochet Kiiiiid!!!!!

My superpowers are Cannabis!

Goodnight Kids!

Holy Hamstrings, Batman!

Oh. My Body. My poor, sad, Body. I’m so sorry, Body, you didn’t do anything to deserve this. I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you.

It would seem, Friends, that I am wickedly and unforgivably out of shape. You know how I keep saying I go running every now and again? Well, I’m not lying, but I’m apparently it's the saddest most pathetic excuse for running you've ever seen. Like a slightly mobile nap, or something. How long has it been since exercising made me feel like I might throw up? Well, at this point not that long, because it was today, and then before that, it was yesterday. But before THAT… I don’t know. Forever.

I knew this was going to be bad when, immediately after the work out, and then all day long, my legs felt shaky and sore. I tried to stay up, running in place while cooking or unloading the dishwasher, and we went for a 2 mile walk in the evening but alas, I woke up today and every inch of my body below the neck and above the ankles hurts. Oooooh how it hurts. But just the same, Guys, I DID IT. I got up at 6:30 and I did day 2 of 21 (or day 2 of the rest of my life if their insidious plan works as intended), and it was super painful, but painful in a different way, and I’ll be in more pain tomorrow. And there will be evening, and there will be morning, the third day.*

*That was a little bit of Bible I just threw at you. But it was about God creating the universe, and I made it about me trying to be not so fat. So yeah. Pretty much the same thing.

Today was Upper Body Make Your Arms And Torso Cry for Mercy Day. Or something like that. All of the exercises with the weights for me were the easiest, which is probably an indicator that I should switch out my 5 pounders for some 8 or 10 pound weights, but well, leave me alone. Mama needs baby steps. Because 60 seconds of pushups after a million other exercises and showing up sore in the first place and it’s still only 6:45 in the morning and I’d really like another hour of sleep thank you much… terrible. Juuuust terrible.

Oh, and also, tonight after work I made the hugely ill-informed decision to go for a short run to “loosen  up my soreness”. Well, the run instead turned into an awkward sort of waddley stomp-walk, think, if Frankenstein tried to go for an evening jog. And also, now I can’t move at all.

Here’s hoping I get out of bed in the morning!

21 Days Until...

Awesome, I hope. Like, REALLY FREAKIN AWESOME.

SO. Officially dieting again (starting tomorrow, per usual), but this time, guys, I MEAN it.  Although I did pretty stinking great this last week, going down from 159.4 last Monday to 155.4 today, so shut your mouth, I'm totally awesome already. That's enough out of you.

So let's bright side/dark side where I am today:

Bright Side: 

1) Very glad to see that the sudden increase in weight (::COUGH:: on and off over the last few weeks ::COUGH::) dipped back down after a solid week of running and avoiding after dinner snacking. That was a pleasant discovery.

2) I did my pre-diet grocery shopping trip tonight. It was at least 75% fresh produce. I felt like a dieting super star.

Me.
Also, if you don't know this image, you're too young to read this blog. Go away and like, hit puberty.

3) Although I haven't started the diet yet, it seems like it may have been created by an evil genius. But more on that later.

Dark Side:

1) I took my "starting" measurements today. And let me tell you. Not good, my friends. Really not good. Worst I've seen in over a year, I believe, and that was just because I was losing baby weight.

2) I took my "before" pictures today. And let me tell you. Not good, my friends. Really not ...I feel like I've been here before.

3) I decided to post those pictures here on my blog. So here you go children. This is what Fat Ash (sorry about that. I promised and everything) has become. Again.

So there I am. There is me. Hello Bellybutton! I see you! If I look happy at all it's because I have decided to DO something about it, and doing something is always happier than not doing something.

Now it's time to talk about the Something. I'm not going to advertise it a bunch, mostly because I can't figure out how to make someone pay me to advertise it, but I'm doing the 21 Day Fix through Beachbody. The gist is, 21 days of exercise (30 minutes a pop, I think even I can survive it) mixed with Shakeology, and a pretty basic portion-control based diet. Of course, there are a good amount of things that are on the "no no" list, but they try to keep it broad, try to keep your diet balanced (which I LOVE, no gorging yourself on roast beef, denying all fruits, and calling it a diet), and try to make it simple. You're using small colored tupperware containers to measure out the "size" of your servings, instead of pulling out a food scale or guessing calories. 

And this is why I think it might be genius: They say it takes 21 days to build a habit. So for 21 days, you exercise. And for 21 days, you're not forced to eat something prepared by someone else, you're trained to get in the habit of feeding yourself appropriately. THIS is what an appropriate amount of rice is for me. THIS is how many vegetables I should be eating every day. So although it's sold as a kind of quick fix solution, like, "see what you can change in 21 short days", the true goal is much more insidious. They're trying to get inside your head. They're trying to change you're freaking life. 

I don't know, man. This could be dangerous. I'll keep you posted. 

Stress- with a side of onion rings

Today, I am not running. I am getting ready for work, I am taking care of the kids, and I am drinking a cup of coffee for the first time in a few days, and it's okay, I gotta admit. But also? I kinda wish I'd gotten up early enough to run today. One week into New Life, and it already feels wrong to take a rest day. THAT IS AMAZING.

So if it's so easy to enjoy running and other such good behaviors, how come I've breached back into the "overweight" category, huh? HUH?? That, Lovelies, is a fair question.

Lately, I've had The Stress. From various places in life and work, since around April, The Stress has been cranked up to 11. I felt like I was in college again (not as good as it sounds), with my poor sleeping, racing heart, and constant sense of foreboding. It blows, honestly. So I decided, on purpose, to let this one go. I decided that I don't have "healthy lifestyle" in me right now. I'm too busy, I'm too preoccupied, I've let anxiety gain a foothold in me, and I don't need to add to my problems by getting all obsessed with the size of my flabby belly.  ... right?

No. Obviously no. Because ignoring health, using food to suppress stress (old habits die hard), and pretending I can just hold on to the weight I was at (notice the past tense), well, these things are lies and they are NOT FREAKING HELPING. I spent 3 months feeling stressed and eating junk and not getting, in any way, better. At all. Just not.

But guess what? HOPE AND CHANGE, that's what.

Now, these feet are going places.

Now, this face is drenched in sweat.

And now, this human is starting to heal.  Because here's the truth of the matter: Waiting till life gets less stressful is a darn dirty LIE. That's not how life works. Life doesn't just "get easier", you have to get better at life. Ooh, I like that one, let's say it again:

Life doesn't get easier, you have to get better at life!

That's right kids, I just Tony Robbins-ed all over your faces. Deal with it.  

Happy Thursday, Friends. Tomorrow, we shall run again. And then Saturday, we shall run again again. Because 'Murica. Because, suck it, England. This is what Freedom tastes like.

Oh wait, real quick. I just saw something on a show called My 600-Pound Life. A guy, shocked, innocent, and full of drama, tells the camera "Almost everything I eat is bad for me.  .... I had no idea." 

Really? Because you weigh over 790 pounds... and I feel like maybe there were signs. :-P

No judgement, obviously, I have zero legs to stand on here, but come now, Friend, let's try a bit of honesty.

The return of Fat Ashley

So here's a funny thing.

It's the end of June and I have reached a new milestone: my heaviest official weight (excepting for pregnancy and the first couple months AFTER pregnancy) in 4 and a half years.

Wooooooo!!!!!!...plbpt.

It seems I've surrounded myself with beautiful, kindhearted, liar-faced-liars who swear on the lives of their children that "oh you look amazing, I would NEVER have guessed that you've been putting on weight!" while in their heads I'm quite certain they're thinking something more along the lines of

Liar-faced-liars try real hard to be nice, and that's sweet and all, but a few things in my life have chosen a more direct, objective approach. Things like:

1) My Wedding Ring. The symbol of my eternal love and commitment has been rethinking its commitment to my left hand. Or, I suppose, it's deciding whether it wants to avoid joining the hand completely, or fuse itself to myself forever and ever Amen.

2) My Pants. This morning, I was afraid of all of my pants. To be fair, I'm pretty sure they were equally afraid of me.  My pants were purchased for a skinnier person, and they glared judgingly at me from my closet. "NO FAT ASHLEYS ALLOWED", they proclaimed. But you know what? I don't like being told what to do, so I shoved my oversized backside into those jeans anyway. I squiggled and squirmed and gasped and twisted and tried hard not to think about This Recent Incident wherein a woman was hospitalized for wearing overly tight pants. Take that, judgy pants. You are ON me now. HA.

3) Wait what was this list about again? Oh yeah. Things telling me that I am fat.

4) Lastly I think, The Scale. Now, I know that The Scale is a deep fried jerk covered in jerk sauce, and that he's on a constant mission to destroy my mood, but... sometimes he makes some points. Today's point, for example was 159.4.  And it made me sad. THANKS A LOT SCALE. YOU WIN AGAIN.

But hey, forget all that. It doesn't matter, because guess what? Guess what? It's that, YOU'RE WELCOME, THE INTERNET.

You see, Skinny Ashley thought that blogging was a time-luxury she could no longer afford. Skinny Ashley spurned your love and affection because her jeans fit her just fine, and everyone knows that people who can fit into their own jeans are SELFISH BRAIN DEAD JERKS. But Fat Ashley, well, Fat Ashley has all of the muffin tops. And now, oh, Fat Ashley needs you so hard, Internet. Fat Ashley can't live another day without you. Fat Ashley is so sorry she went away and is begging, pleading, for your mercy and forgiveness.

Also, Fat Ashley thinks you're looking very nice these days, by the way. And... she wonders if you did something different with your hair?

Asking for a friend: how many times can a person call herself Fat before she hurts her own feelings? Let's call it an even 37 and move right along.

So there we are. There I am. Fat Ashley is back with her too high BMI score and her too tight pants and her too desperate need for approval. Hope you still like me, Internet. Please, please still like me.

The End.

...

Real quick, I expect a few people out there to respect the fact that I've only ever used the name Fat Ashley in those post, and never once, NEVER ONCE called myself a Fat Ash. Because that would not be classy, and classy is the name of the game here, folks. Classy.

Failed it! Next?

Hey guys, hey guys, remember that time where it was almost the end of December and I was like, "Hey, I'm totally going to start my diet a little BEFORE the new year and lose some weight so my 'starting weight' for the year is lower!" Do you remember that? Do ya do ya??

Ha. Haha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH no.

Guess I ended up making different life choices, because New Year's Day started with another 155 weigh in, and the day after New Year's Day was even a teensy bit higher.  But IT IS ALL OKAY because it's time for me to lose like 30 pounds again and heck, you gotta start somewhere.

Even though it's a new year, I've decided to do an old thing. Last February I spent a month being super committed to the Pinterest-discovered Guns Buns and Abs work out challenge. In that month I lost 6 pounds and multiple inches from all the places where I would like to lose multiple inches, so I have decided to do said challenge again.

It hurts, my friends. It hurts so, so mucho.

I’m on day 2 of the challenge, so 5 pushups, 55 squats, and 30 leg lifts. And I’m still adding in the crunches (starting at 50 a day) because of how flabby my belly looks in the mirror. Dang uncouth, no manners mirrors. Jerks, all of them, I assure you.

Along with this, I’ve had some bonus cardioone Start The Year Off Right run of about 7.4 miles, at a breakneck speed of 4.6 miles an hour which makes it technically… a brisk walk? A leisurely stroll? An annoying nap? Ah, forget you, Haters. Leave Fatty alone, SHE’S TRYING HERE.

This was the before picture.
There is no after picture, because about 1/4 mile from my house, both myself and my phone dropped down dead.

So that’s where I am now. Stomach muscles screaming in pain, with no weight loss yet to speak of.

But on the bright side, I'm so hungry I could eat my own shoe.