Me + wine = trouble

Regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it is good only for wallowing in."
~Katherine Mansfield

There's not a whole lot to say after the title of my post. I ate my heart out yesterday. It started with a couple glasses of wine, which always makes me not care about my eating. I know better than to drink and eat.

Then it was barbecued T-bone steak AND chicken with the skin. Chicken skin, how I love thee. Potato salad, I forgot how good white potatoes with real mayo tastes. Like a little bit of heaven. It was a true pigfest.

This was after I biked to the gym, did the StairMaster for 25 minutes and an insane lower body workout for 45 minutes, then biked home, for 640 calories burned. Even with all the exercise, my debacle afterwards put me way over on Points. After the third glass of wine, I stopped counting and truly didn't care anymore.

It's a new day, and I don't regret yesterday one bit. I ate too much and drank too much, but I had fun, and now it's back to eating well and exercising. Life goes on.

Post-frosting report

Your comments on my frosting confession were so sweet (ha! pun intended). Seriously, you make me feel like I'm not such a freak for some of the stupid stuff I do.

I've put the frosting incident behind me, probably literally behind me as I'm sure it's planted itself on my big fat butt. I threw the other half of the can away when I saw the expiration date. It really didn't taste very good anyway. It was a sweet, chemical bitter taste, that's the only way I can describe it. Maybe it was the expiration date, maybe that's just the way it tastes. Regardless, it's gone.

I know I'll never be "cured" of this obesity disease. Sometimes I feel so strong, like I've conquered it. Then I have moments, sometimes hours or days or weeks (even months and years) where it consumes me. All I can think about is getting my next fix. If I succumb, like I did with the frosting, then I'm filled with remorse. I know this is a disease of some kind, maybe a disease of the mind or the body, I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that it's a sickness that's hell to be cursed with, and I will be fighting it every day of my life.

Putting all that aside, back to my 15 pounds in 15 weeks. I'm working on my plan to get there. It's four parts, Food, Exercise, Weight Watchers (living it for real), and the last part, not really about losing the weight, but it's called "stepping outside of myself". More on the plan later. I'm actually excited about it.

Busy day today, the refrigerator man is coming this morning. We've been using the garage refrigerator for two weeks, very annoying.

I've been given the task of getting emisisons testing on his truck. First time in our almost 21 years of marriage he's trusting me with this task. I know, silly, but he thinks it's a man thing to have an emissions test done. Anything car-related is his "job". Since two "man-jobs" need to be done today, he chose staying home to "make sure the repairman does the job right". So I get to take his truck in for an emissions test.

I also "get" to take my car in for an oil change. Something I've only done once in 21 years. It's not that I mind doing this stuff, it's just that my husband has always done it.

I feel like a big girl today, in the good sense of that term. I get to do car stuff .

Happy almost 4th!

A confession

This is what I discovered in my pantry late last night:

I ate half of it, with a spoon, standing alone in the kitchen at 11:30pm. It tasted funny, kind of like chemicals. I didn't remember buying it. I looked for an expiration date. August 2008. Gross!

I guess I'm not cured after all, not if I can still do stuff like this.

So much for losing a pound a week. I'll probably gain a pound this week...if I don't die from eating rancid frosting.

It's time to stop the dancing

On February 17, 2009 I was at my lowest weight (in about 10 years) of 154.6. Last Sunday I was 156.0. A gain of 1.4 pounds in the last four months. Basically I've been doing maintenance.

I've been dancing around 155 for months. I've gone up and down a few pounds. In March I was even up to 166.4, but I always settle back to around 155. This is not my goal weight, and it will not become my goal weight (it's 135).

I'm not exactly happy about this maintenance thing. I want to get to goal, I really do, but I don't seem to be willing to make the extra effort that is needed for me to get there.

Some days I wonder if I can even get there from here. Is it possible to lose another 20 pounds? I honestly don't know because I really haven't been trying. Every day I'm a failure at weight loss. The reason is simple. I eat too much. I exercise really hard, five to six times a week, and that's the only reason I'm maintaining.

I'm still doing the Missouri 60 challenge, but this morning I found another challenge that's perfect for me. I found it on Amy's Quest to Get Skinny, the challenge is for 15 weeks.

My personal goal, that I copied from Krista, is to lose 15 pounds in the 15 weeks. I can totally do this. That's one pound a week. Seriously, who can't lose one pound a week? Okay, that would be me for the past four months, but I fully intend to change that starting right now.

This is week one, and I'm using Sunday's weighin for my start, 156 pounds. If I make the 15 in 15, that will put me at 141. Very close to my goal weight. I'm going to change things up a bit to do this, so I need a plan. A real plan I can follow. More on that later, right now I'm just excited I'm even thinking about making some actual progress.

Let the challenge begin! If I make it, or should I say, when I make it, then I'll really be dancing!

My Sunday in pictures

Today's weighin:
My starting weight was 239.2, current weight is 156, making a total loss of -83.2.

Here's my Missouri 60 Challenge picture (Tony/anti-jared's challenge). Since I don't have anything nice to say about my picture I won't say anything. It's obvious what I need to work on. I'll post a similar picture in 60 days. Hopefully there'll be an improvement. You can click on the picture for a larger view (if you dare).

I biked to my Weight Watchers meeting at 8:30 a.m. I saw a lot of cool stuff on my way there, but I didn't have time to stop and take pictures. I was flying like a bat out of hell to make it on time, a record 5 miles in 20 minutes (big hills), 203 calories burned one-way (almost the same on the way home). Heart rate high of 159, average 137 (resting pulse is 48).

Here are pictures of what I saw, but these aren't my pictures (from the web).

Lots of these cool yellow butterflies, they were everywhere.


Willow Goldenfinch, which is the Washington State bird, I saw several of these. So pretty.


A bunny stopped on the trail in front of me (which made me stop). My bunny was actually prettier, with stripes on his side and a beige colored tail.

A lady with platinum blonde hair and pink stripes in it. She was wearing a pink shirt. Actually looked kind of pretty. Perhaps my next hairstyle (?).

The coolest thing I saw was a lady in a bright red sporty-looking wheelchair. She was being pulled by a very large dog. I'm not sure what kind of dog he was, but huge, with curly blonde fur. The lady was tiny, maybe 110 pounds, and about 35 years old. The dog was on some kind of harness thing pulling the wheelchair. The lady was videotaping the dog and her surroundings. They were on the dirt trail that runs along the paved trail that I was on.

I wanted to ask the lady if it was okay if I took their picture, but I was in a hurry and I wasn't sure how she'd respond to a stranger approaching her (or what the dog would do). I kept on biking, but it was a memorable scene.

It was a great bike ride, perfect weather today. I LOVE riding my bike. It's my own little piece of heaven.

Except one thing. Lately, I've been plagued by a recurring dream/nightmare. In my dream I'm riding my bike downhill, really fast (which I do a lot). I try to brake to slow down but my brakes don't work. I look down and can see the brake line is cut and the frayed brake wires are hanging loose. I can't stop and I'm going faster and faster. I'm scared. Then I wake up. I wonder what would happen if I didn't wake up. Die?

Farrah and Michael

Michael. I danced to his music. Even my mother bought his Thriller album when she was in her 60's, for herself. She loved pop music.

Farrah. I wanted to be her. I had her hairstyle when I was in college. I never had a body like hers, but it was my goal (still is).

I saw Farrah's documentary about her battle against anal cancer. It was painful to watch. I thought she was brave. I cried for her, for her family, even for Ryan.

I remember Farrah said she wanted just one thing. She wanted to live.

It puts it all in perspective. My battle against obesity versus Farrah's battle against anal cancer. It makes my problem look trivial.

On a lighter note
Yesterday I Googled "how to not feel hungry". I was having another day of ravenous, insatiable hunger. After I read several web sites that said "drink lots of water", I found my favorite answer on wiki.answers.com:

How to not feel hungry?

Eat.

I fought the binge and the binge won

The truth: I didn't even try to fight the binge. That's how it won.

Yesterday was my first day of counting calories. It was a big freaking disaster. I was perfect up until 9pm, my bewitching hour. I swear if I could somehow go from 9pm to 6am without entering the kitchen, I could get to my goal weight.

At 9pm I had eaten 1550 calories, and was doing great. Since I had burned 600 calories in two hours of exercise yesterday (walking and the gym), I thought 1600-1700 was a good range of calories for me. Then it happened.

I was putting away leftovers in the freezer, when I spotted my most favorite thing. Skinny Cow mint ice cream sandwiches, 140 calories each. I did the math and thought that would only put me up to 1690, I'd still be okay.

After eating one ice cream sandwich, the mindless eating thing happened. I ate the entire package, six ice cream sandwiches for 840 calories. After that I ate two handfuls of pecans for about 400 (?) calories. I don't even know what I was thinking. I guess that's the problem, I wasn't thinking.

I woke up this morning with regrets. My first thoughts almost every morning are what did I eat yesterday, was my eating good or was it bad? It's pathetic. I often wonder if this is how an alcoholic feels after a drinking binge. The remorse, the self-hatred.

To make matters worse, I skipped the gym this morning. I'm extremely sore from some intense workouts the last few days. I'm walking at lunch, and I'll hit the gym on my way home tonight.

I realize last night was just one night, but this is how it starts, my path back to obesity. Will I ever get control of my binge eating? Why is it so easy to lose control? Why do I do this to myself? Is it some form of self-hatred to eat like this? Of course, the biggest question, can I stop this in it's tracks right now? As usual, I don't have the answers, just the questions.

Today is a new day, a new fight. Hopefully, I'll come out a winner today.