So funny thing. I got all excited about being on track and exercising, and decided that next month I would do Jillian Michael's 30-Day Shred for the month so I could: 1, find out if it would really shred some pounds off [that up to 20 pounds is so alluring, and I know, hard to do], and 2, maybe write a proper review having properly used it [finally, y'know, after having owned it for over a year, being the second workout DVD I ever bought]. So last week I sat down with my phone to schedule it out. There are three levels, and I wanted to do each one equally, when I noticed something on my calendar. I didn't have 30 days. In fact, I had 29. Crap. Well, I was going to have rest days, right? I could make that day my last rest day.
So I happily type in my rest days and start of level days, and move on. This sounds like it ended well yes? 5 rest days, 8 days on each level..... Except. Except.
My family has been planning a little trip, you see. Our once-in-a-lifetime family trip to DisneyWorld. It's been a dream of my dad's for years for us all to go on a week long trip to DW, and after coming into a tiny bit of money, it was made possible. So about 6 months ago, maybe more, we booked flights, hotels, etc. For February. Which has been that off-in-the-distance future event for a long time, and with the holiday rush I forgot we were going completely. A few days later my dad mentioned it's pending arrival and I asked for specific dates so I could write them down [for any potential employers]. Opened the calendar on my phone, and panicked when I saw how badly this screwed with the schedule.
After having determined that the room would have no DVD player, and deciding against bringing my own form of player, I have decided I shall bring a swimsuit and use the pool for some exercise, and do some poolside yoga. My parents were both shocked I felt the need to try to bring the DVD with me, saying we would be walking around all day. But amusement park walking is walking, standing/shuffling in line, sitting, walking, rinse, repeat. You may be active, but it's not going to be burning any major mondo calories. It hardly compensates for all the salt etc that's in the Park's food.
So, in the end, I will be shifting to after our return to start my 30 Day period, and just have to live with my groove being thrown off.
In other news, I received my new Bob Harper DVD, which I will be previewing tomorrow. I'm not sure how, or when, I will be adding it to my mix-up, but I will.
Yesterday I ended up doing level 2 of Jillian's Yoga Shred, and felt like I was sweating less, and therefore like I cheated on my workout. My thighs were definitely telling me about some of the moves this morning, however :)
I'm also excitedly awaiting some awesome yoga pants and comfy shirt from oldnavy.com, who have an excellent selection [not to mention priced] of athletic wear for plus sizes.
My biggest omigodcantwait is I finally decided to invest in a heart rate monitor. My mother feels they aren't all that useful, but she has never used one so I can't say she is an authority on this.
Speaking of, tomorrow, as part of my weigh in post, I shall post more in depth about how utterly defeated and [mostly] alone I feel, and how my biggest opposition seem to be my parents, because after tonight I felt so fricking discouraged by their words I cried and felt like hiding away. I'm hoping sleep will give me some perspective on the whole thing. Right now I'm trying to be my own cheerleader. It's sort of working.
7 am comes all too soon!
Showing posts with label amusing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amusing. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Sigh
How is it so easy to feel you are eating correct portion sizes, only to find out you were way off?
For the first time in a long while, I decided to count calories while at my fiancees instead of eye-balling the food and making healthier choices. Somehow I thought with all the healthier choices I've been making that I wasn't doing so badly on the weekends. I was W-R-O-N-G. On a whim, on Saturday I decided to put in my calories for the previous evening's meal after all. His mom had decided to cook, and made what she calls hot dog casserole, which is bow-tie pasta, cut up hot dogs, onions, diced tomatoes, corn, and black beans. Let me just state for the record I have found a new hatred for all pastas and grains for one simple reason: the measurements are all dry. They are dry with nothing on the package indicating what 1 serving dry equals cooked. I ended up spending 45 minutes trying to find out how much bow-ties cook up to, and realizing that between what was served to me [a portion equaling the hugeness of my fiancee's who definitely eats more than I do normally, while she had something much more proper.] and the seconds I had because I was still hungry, and at 200 calories a serving.... 1200 calories. For a meal that still left me feeling hungry.
I was horrified. And annoyed. She feels she is eating more healthfully, and while she is for her, she still isnt paying attention to things. She also professes a hate of calorie counters, that she forget to use them and she hates feeling obligated to write everything down. I hate them when I realize I've overeaten when I wasn't trying to and read the label yadda yadda...
So I think I may have found the culprit. 4 nights out of the week [even when I do a majority of the cooking], I'm being sabotaged and sabotaging myself.
I know this sounds like the biggest duh, but I guess there were a few baby step back to the path of health I forgot I needed.
I do think, on a off-topic, that my mother may kill me if I buy anymore tea before finishing what we already have. But flavors!!!
For the first time in a long while, I decided to count calories while at my fiancees instead of eye-balling the food and making healthier choices. Somehow I thought with all the healthier choices I've been making that I wasn't doing so badly on the weekends. I was W-R-O-N-G. On a whim, on Saturday I decided to put in my calories for the previous evening's meal after all. His mom had decided to cook, and made what she calls hot dog casserole, which is bow-tie pasta, cut up hot dogs, onions, diced tomatoes, corn, and black beans. Let me just state for the record I have found a new hatred for all pastas and grains for one simple reason: the measurements are all dry. They are dry with nothing on the package indicating what 1 serving dry equals cooked. I ended up spending 45 minutes trying to find out how much bow-ties cook up to, and realizing that between what was served to me [a portion equaling the hugeness of my fiancee's who definitely eats more than I do normally, while she had something much more proper.] and the seconds I had because I was still hungry, and at 200 calories a serving.... 1200 calories. For a meal that still left me feeling hungry.
I was horrified. And annoyed. She feels she is eating more healthfully, and while she is for her, she still isnt paying attention to things. She also professes a hate of calorie counters, that she forget to use them and she hates feeling obligated to write everything down. I hate them when I realize I've overeaten when I wasn't trying to and read the label yadda yadda...
So I think I may have found the culprit. 4 nights out of the week [even when I do a majority of the cooking], I'm being sabotaged and sabotaging myself.
I know this sounds like the biggest duh, but I guess there were a few baby step back to the path of health I forgot I needed.
I do think, on a off-topic, that my mother may kill me if I buy anymore tea before finishing what we already have. But flavors!!!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Well this weekend is certainly about picking yourself up when you fall down [hard off the wagon] and just keep going. Drinking heavily is, as we know, not conducive to weight loss and overall health. I have a tendency to kinda just keep going when I imbibe, which is why for about a month I've been having the dear fiancee pour for me - and cut me off. I haven't been drinking or thinking too much about it since I asked him to do this for me. However, Friday night was a bit of an exception.
My fiancee is one of the many that needed to move back in with his mother because of living costs v employment rate and pay in our part of the US. This has led, naturally, to many awkward and frustrating times. This past Friday night was intended to be a bit of alone time for the two of us, something we do't get much of. And while sometimes our alone time consists of nothing more than talking without interference, this night was definitely going to be a night of private time. This was not to be, as the minute he got out of the shower his mother came home early, and she began to say something as he hurried to his bedroom and he responded he needed to get changed and would be out in a minute. We were both frustrated, and decided it wasn't completely lost. When it turned out his mother was not trying to talk to us through the door, but in fact talking to his younger brother and wife, I was a little more than mortified. I was also stuck in the bedroom, since my clothes were still with the rest of my things. The fiancee obliged me by fetching my overnight bag, but I could feel my face burning as I left the room to go be sociable. I do not blush often, but I knew I was now. To give myself a moment to compose myself, I headed into the kitchen to make myself a drink.
For me, it seems, I should not drink on an empty stomach, because I will joyfully feed myself on alcohol rather than food. And I did just that until his mother asked me an hour and a half later what we had decided to do for dinner. She informed me there was nothing to cook in the kitchen, which was not a surprise as she buys each meal makings individually. She opted for pizza for the 6 of us, which I ate more of what was delivered then was healthy.
The next day I paid for it, with a sensitive stomach and frequent trips to the bathroom to contemplate my naval.
This was coupled with the fact that plans changed for our weekend enough to mess with my schedule of getting in exercise, and made me feel as though I had failed. But it is Monday, and time to keep pressing forward.
My fiancee is one of the many that needed to move back in with his mother because of living costs v employment rate and pay in our part of the US. This has led, naturally, to many awkward and frustrating times. This past Friday night was intended to be a bit of alone time for the two of us, something we do't get much of. And while sometimes our alone time consists of nothing more than talking without interference, this night was definitely going to be a night of private time. This was not to be, as the minute he got out of the shower his mother came home early, and she began to say something as he hurried to his bedroom and he responded he needed to get changed and would be out in a minute. We were both frustrated, and decided it wasn't completely lost. When it turned out his mother was not trying to talk to us through the door, but in fact talking to his younger brother and wife, I was a little more than mortified. I was also stuck in the bedroom, since my clothes were still with the rest of my things. The fiancee obliged me by fetching my overnight bag, but I could feel my face burning as I left the room to go be sociable. I do not blush often, but I knew I was now. To give myself a moment to compose myself, I headed into the kitchen to make myself a drink.
For me, it seems, I should not drink on an empty stomach, because I will joyfully feed myself on alcohol rather than food. And I did just that until his mother asked me an hour and a half later what we had decided to do for dinner. She informed me there was nothing to cook in the kitchen, which was not a surprise as she buys each meal makings individually. She opted for pizza for the 6 of us, which I ate more of what was delivered then was healthy.
The next day I paid for it, with a sensitive stomach and frequent trips to the bathroom to contemplate my naval.
This was coupled with the fact that plans changed for our weekend enough to mess with my schedule of getting in exercise, and made me feel as though I had failed. But it is Monday, and time to keep pressing forward.
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