Weight Loss Wednesday: Betcha Thought I Forgot

Hey!

I am getting better and better every day. Still super tired.  I am behind in my fellowship work but trying not to worry about it. I got one of those "nice to hear from you!" responses from someone I work with.  I'm sorry, pal. I just had my tits cut off and I'm murdering my dissertation. Forgive me.

{following my first fill}

Good news: on Monday at after my fill, I got the ok to exercise.  Still no lifting, but my runner's legs are itching.

Not really.

But I do believe that exercise is good stress relief and will help me get stronger.  I dunno, though. Even car rides make me so aware...of myself.

Anyhow, not exercising makes it easy to lose weight: I was Captain Calorie Restricter for some time.  But I like exercising. So to be healthier, I have to eat more.  I'm looking for the balance-- or, rather, the unbalance-- that will allow me to lose some weight without feeling as if I'll keel over. 

So this WLW= trying to exercise without feeling worse or impeding my healing.

Letcha know how it goes.

xoxo,
13

Weight Loss Wednesday: On Stretch Marks

I have them: most prominently on my arms and breasts.  They've always been there, though admittedly appear more visible when my weight is up.   They are not from being fat (though at 208 pounds I was very fat), nor from  having children.  I remember having stretch marks in the third grade, when I also grew boobs and had my first period.

When I lived in Florida I had a sort of permanent tan, I noticed the stretch marks on my arms seemed to respond to tanning-- they were darker and thus less noticeable.

When I notice my stretch marks in pictures, my first instinct is to photoshop them out.  (If I knew how to work photoshop, that is.)  But then that would be lying, and I can't lie here: I hate them.

Naughty Dog likes photos

I do hate them. I hate them. I got over the ones on my arms, but the ones on my breasts give me the sads. I have 30 camisoles to keep my breasts covered in even moderately low v-neck tops and dresses. So now as I consider options for reconstruction, a little voice in my head keeps asking, "Will they cut my stretch marks off too?" 

{dress, tracy reese via anthro; belt- anthro; shoes- mia shadow}

The answer is mostly no. I feel a little guilty feeling bad about it.  I mean, this isn't a boob job-- I am doing this to extend my life and improve my physical and emotional well- being.  It seems silly to worry about how my breasts will look when the purpose of this whole surgery is to reduce my risk of breast cancer.

It's silly, I know, but I feel sometimes like my stretch marks say to the world, "This woman does not care about herself."

And I do. 

xoxo,
13

The Earth and My Ass Part 4: Spawn of Seitan

Helloooooooo!!! I greet you after 2 weeks on The Continent. After getting sick from malaria tablets and eating more fufu  than I ever have in my life. After laughing into the wee hours with a great new group of friends. After getting booked then rebooked then booked again. After lost luggage (of course!) and a whore's bath in an airport bathroom. Buuuuut- more on that later. For now, as my system rights itself from lack of veggies, I thought I'd ask your thoughts on a product that's new to me.

First, let me say this: I don't think meat is bad for you.  In fact, I think that it's probably one of the singular most healthy foods out there. Protein and fat = building blocks of life.

But Americans' typical way of receiving/preparing meat does bad stuff to the earth, and I get all guilty about that. You know, future of our species and stuff.  So way back when, I decided I was going to be more conscious about how my lifestyle impacted our earth.  One of the recommended ways to reduce our carbon footprint is to eat 20% less meat.   

At first, I was like: shit, another thing?

Then I started playing around with tofu.  (It's good! Trust.) And while at Whole Paycheck picking up the extra- firm variety, I noticed this stuff next to it. 

Yeah, it looks a little like poop.

Okay, okay, that isn't exactly how it happened. What had really happened was- I was at a party for a friend and scooped some of this into a wrap thinking it was diced seasoned chicken.  And while I could tell it wasn't chicken, it wasn't bad either. So I went for it. See above scenario, which can now be counted as true.

As a person who watches sugars and starches, my first thought was that this wheat stuff would also carry a pretty high carbohydrate (read:empty calories) punch. Not so. See:

Seitan (pronounced say- tahn), according to our friends at Wiki:

"is made by washing wheat flour dough with water until all the starch dissolves, leaving insoluble gluten as an elastic mass which is then cooked before being eaten."

Sounds nasty to me. But it isn't.  I gobbled some down with grilled veggies, olives, cheddar and salsa for a non- taco salad.

So, worldly readers: what dances have you done with seitan? Sorry. couldn't help it. Any yummy recipes that have worked out for your taste buds?

xoxo,
13

The Earth and My Ass Part 3 : In Search of My Mother's Garden (Pic Heavy)

As I keep mentioning, my trip to Florida to visit my mom was really special.  One of the highlights of the trip was when she took me over to her urban garden.  Located at the edge of my alma mater's campus, the land is split and used by 10 or so farmers who rent their plots for $40 a year.  I won't add too much more here, except to remark at how amazing it was to literally see the fruits of mom's labor...and eat it later, of course.  

It was almost spiritual.

 

xoxo,

13

Weight Loss Wednesday: The Scariest Part

I am a goal- setter. A doer. I believe if I want to do something, I can do it.  And most of the time, I do.  My friends call me "ruthless." With a friendly smile thrown in for good measure.  (I believe that is called commitment, friends. The old folks call it gumption.)

But with weight loss, I have historically been my own sloppy little sister: a half- assed promise- breaker who overeats and restricts, then starts the cycle all over again.  

This go round has been soooooo different.  For one, I didn't give myself a pound requirement.  I'm not aiming to reach towards anything but a normal BMI, which seemed like the only rational goal for someone wanting to get off the weight- loss merry-go-round.  And second, unlike my attempts at low carbing, pretty much anything goes.  Before, I had strict rules about everything.  I believe that it was those rules-- that need for control-- that triggered my very out-of-control binge behaviors.  Binge behaviors I'd never had before limiting sugar.  But I don't blame the eating plan. I blame me.

This go round, I am attempting everything differently. I am eating more.  I am eating whatever foods fit my fancy within my carb ceiling, which is about 100 grams per day.  Other than making sure I'm getting 4 cups of veggies in, I have few other parameters. I am exercising 3-4 times a week, but not in the old way- not the manic, I- must- exercise- to- lose way. And guess what? 

I don't feel like I'm dieting.

I just feel like I'm living a healthy life.

So when Alexia shared her 8- week challenge, I was unsure of what my goals would be other than to keep on keeping on. But then I remembered the recurring dream.   Ro and Corine said it means I should get my ass moving, hesitations and all. And Carly was sweet enough to check a dream dictionary to share something that got me thinking:

"To dream that you are running alone, refers to your determination and motivation in the pursuit of your goals. You will find success and rise above those around you."

I don't know about 'rising above' others, but I  certainly don't have to be the sloppy little sister with weight loss. I can run (right?). I can get to my goal weight, and lower if I want (right?).  I can do it without compulsions, without hating food or my body or myself (right?).  And I can do this while feeling beautiful (right?).  I am cautiously optimistic.

So that's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna commit to running. You know, publicly.  Thanks, everyone, for the push.

Pray for me.  I don't want to quit again.

xoxo,

13