Hotel scales

I've never been one of those girls who worries and panics about her weight. In fact, I used to make fun of girls like that.
But I just landed in Los Angeles and even though I'm still in my flight clothes, I can feel the self consciousness creeping in.
It's been a while since I was last on here, and a lot has changed. I won't get into all of it, but it's been enough to stop my workouts and subsequent weight loss.
Laying on this hotel bed, where there's a scale just inside the front door, I'm reminded of just what I was doing it all for: me.
I started saying things like "I don't have time to run today" and instead of making the time I just went on with my day.
And yeah, it's always packed full of things to do, but I'm back to being the heaviest I've ever been in my life.
I'm tired of this yo-yo crap. I need to make a lifestyle change if I ever want to get anything accomplished.
Damn does that depress me.

Rotten to the core

My sister has moved her wedding date.
There is no longer a rush for me to fit into a tiny sheath of a dress, at least not for another 10 months, but I have a gym membership, and I might as well use it.
I met a friend at the gym yesterday, and she and I worked her circuit together: 30 minutes on the Tredmill (because running on an elliptical actually weakens your core muscles), 30 minutes on a bike climbing Mt. Kilamanjaro, then 30 minutes doing various weight training.
Today I met up with her again and hit the Tredmill, but skipped the rest of the workout in favor of a class called Bikini Bootcamp - otherwise known as Kickboxing from Hell.
I am Sore, emphasis on the capital S. My quads are screaming at me, and every time I attempt to lower myself into a seat I give up a quarter of the way down and just fall.
There's also an inevitable groan.
I know these are just the twinges of a new workout, but damn.
But I like the change. My other workout was getting boring, and at least now I can watch a pre-season Sox game while I run on that blasted machine for 30 damn minutes.
What kills me the most is that in a gym, on a machine, I'm excellent. I run a decent mile and I don't feel the need to stop.
On a trail, however, it feels like every four feet I need to stop and catch my breath.
I did find my new favorite machine, though I suppose it isn't so much a machine as it is a padded piece of metal.
It's a piece that allows you to drape over it, almost like an immersion table for your back. You hook your feet in the bottom and bend at the waist over the edge, allowing your back to stretch out. It's also perfect for doing upside-down crunches, and if you have a medicine ball handy, the workout really burns your core muscles.
(My core muscles suck. If I were ever asked to perform a sobriety test I would fail it -- not because I'd be drunk, but simply because my core muscles are so weak I can't walk a straight line.
It's a rotten core.)
What's awesome is that it burns those muscles above your ovaries, too, so the stronger you make them the less likely they are to cramp during your less-than-favorite time of the month.
It's my newest favorite thing to do at the gym, and it burns and it sucks, but at the end I feel like I've attacked a love handle/spare tire with some serious devotion and any previous workout almost doesn't compare.
I highly suggest adding it to your workout regimen.

•••

In other news, my gal pal Jen is joining a gym near her home and is planning on picking up a schedule that will allow her to work off some of the stress from work.

This girl has not only a highly stressful job, but also a highly stressful commute, so having a release for that tension is not only something she needs to relax, it's also something she needs to get back to herself.

So here's a shout out to my peep and a note of confidence for her - I'm proud of you for taking this step and have utter and complete faith in you.
xo

Drop it like it's hot

If you're female, you understand what kind of havoc a date will wreak on your brain and your body. If it's one you really want to end well, usually you don't eat for four days beforehand, you have to slap yourself out of daydreams a few times an hour and you're constantly figuring out ways to check if you've got something in your teeth without yanking out your hand mirror.


"Do I have something in my teeth?"

But, if that date goes well, suddenly your entire eating habits change, mostly because you're so happy there's no need to eat more than necessary. Food becomes fuel, not a source of comfort for your lonely, pitiful life.
The last time I started dating somoene I dropped 10 pounds just from worrying about stupid things, like eating in front of him. (It's me at my most nerve-wracked.)
But then you're there and he's not a prince. He's just a guy, and you have to remind yourself that you've handled foreign countries single-handedly; he's just a guy. You've got this.


I look good with long hair.

And then WHAM! The next day you're back to being a bottomless pit.
The good part about my situation is that not only did Date 1 go well, but the day after is gym day. So no matter how much I want him to text me today, at the end of the workday I get to throw on skin-tight pants and hit the proverbial pavement to keep my mind off my phone.
The bad part is that I have to wait until this weekend to see him again, and in between now and then I have to appear aloof, and undecided, because a woman who knows what she wants simply isn't done.
And no, that's not bad grammar.
I know how foolish that is; I know I shouldn't do it, but I'm a little ruined on relationship-instinct, thanks to one giant douchebag.
In any case, I went to buy a new pair of jeans for this date, mainly because "the pair" are old and need a belt cinched 5 holes to stay up. I got to the store, tried on a slew and had to go back to the racks because the ones I tried on were all too big.
Yes, there's still a big, shit-eating grin on my face.
(I never understood that description. Why smile while you're eating shit? Why eat shit?)
I ended up buying a pair of jeans TWO sizes smaller than my normal!
I think it's partly weight loss and partly finding a designer who sizes a tad larger than most. But in any case my svelte ass is now encased in a pair of 8s that I haven't taken off since I bought them.
I started going the gym mainly for my sister's wedding, but also, I think, because I knew it was my time. My time to date and to buy smaller jeans for those dates.
I said I wouldn't use a scale, and I still haven't stepped on one yet.
But seeing results in the form of smaller pants is the best reward for my success.
That, and Date No. 2.

Ice Ice Baby

I was reading a Shape magazine earlier today and found out an interesting fact: Ice water is actually a negative calorie drink, which means when you drink it your body actually burns calories.
Our bodies can't do anything with cold water - all of our functions require the water to be warm. Which is why they tell you to drink tea when your stomach is upset - because your body doesn't need to do any work to make the water ready, which gets your tired system the liquids it needs to feel better.
But we actually need to heat up ice water, so drinking a tall, cool glass of water (hello Josh Holloway) actually helps you lose weight.


Tall, cool ... yep. Bring on the ice.

Yeah, I'd have no problem adding a little Holloway to my exercise program.
$10 says I'll look at this post about 15 times today. Le sigh.

The compass points to what you want

It's been a few days — nay, weeks — since my last post. I suppose you could say this is a slump, and expect to hear me blather on about how I've spent the last howevermany days becoming a permanent fixture on my couch and consuming entire bags of Doritos.

This is not the case.

At least, not this time.

I haven't been to the gym for the past few weeks because I've been busy buying a car. My new ride is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, however, so I can start going back to the gym after work.

Buying a car is a pain in the ass. Not only do you have to deal with every salesman under the sun trying to sell you the most expensive car on his lot, they're all intentionally thick too. It takes you about two hours to get them to even start speaking in reasonable figures and then at least another hour to get them down to a price you want.

I did that on Saturday at Keene Chrysler Jeep Dodge, and my brand-spanking new 2011 Jeep Compass is making its way from Connecticut tomorrow.
I've never bought a car before; my dad has always done it for me. He helped me find my first car (A 1985 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme) and sold me my second, which I paid off and just traded in for my new Jeep.

Suffice it to say that I am tired. I am tired of car dealers, I am tired of researching vehicles and I am tired of test driving.

And, if all goes according to plan, I will be able to drive home in this tomorrow:



Aye, it's the Black Pearl!

•••

A hospital in California has recently done a study proving that IBS symptoms are relieved when a patient is on a course of antibiotics. I have been on a course of antibiotics recently, so I have had zero digestive issues.

Though for the past two days, what with the stress of buying my car and all, I have neglected to take it, which means when I ate an english muffin pizza for lunch today I paid for it.

So it's back to the gluten-free diet for me, which sucks and is good for both of the same reasons.

1.) My diet is limited and no longer involves wheat of any kind, meaning breads, pastas, most sweets and, surprisingly, soy sauce.

2.) My diet is limited and no longer involves wheat of any kind, meaning breads, pastas, most sweets and, surprisingly, soy sauce.

So it looks like my little trip to Food Heaven is nearing a close, and I will soon be back to fish and vegetables.
To be honest, I'm kind of looking forward to it.
And who knows? Perhaps I'll even post some of my fabulous gluten-free dishes.