Defying physics and other talents.

By now, y'all know I'm always game for a gimmicky diet or workout. It should come as no shock that I'm nearly done with T25 and headed for P90X. It is for real. I can do push-ups again. Real ones.

Admittedly, I am somewhat concerned that if I maintain this sort of ..manly Jazzercize, our ceiling downstairs will collapse, because.. high jumps. Hopefully, I will land on the couch.

As usual, I've gained weight. It's just what I do. It's a gift. I like to think that I'm built for survival. I would survive as long as any teenage heroine in any popular young adult literature series on which I've binged this summer.

But since I'm not trying to climb out of the Grand Canyon carrying a boat, eating only apples grown by long gone farmers of the Rising, my jeans are tight.

It's a delicate balance, jump squats and coffee cake.

Today, I bought a bag of chocolate Shakeology.

I read a lot about it before I did, because the price is unspeakable.

In the end, I decided to try it because eating healthy food is expensive, anyway.

 Concerned it would be like.. chocolate water (that's how it looks in commercials).., I mixed it with 12 oz. of coconut milk, a half cup of crushed ice and, much to Henry's annoyance, pulled out the immersion blender.

I say all of that - even the anecdotal rambling - to say, it's really thick. Maybe because of the chia seeds or one of the many other fancypants ingredients. I don't know. I know coffee cake made with cream cheese. It's what brung me.

So..

I struggled through the first half, feeling somewhat defeated. ..but then, in a texture-driven near heave, a moment of clarity prevailed over beer-bonging strategies of yore:

It's like drinking chocolate pudding.

WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO DO THAT?

And lastly, I read somewhere that good photography is essential for successful blogging. Ha!

This is after the ice melted. . . I stuck my phone in and tilted the shake down, so it's slowly lolling its way down through Brandon's Phil Robertson Happy Happy Happy Tervis tumbler, looking like the mouth of Hell. But in a good way.

Top of the Muffin, to ya! - Week 5

This week, I didn't exercise like I should, I didn't drown myself with water like I should, but I didn't do anything horrible, either.  I didn't hurtle into the fruit roll-up binge zone because finally, finally, we have a kitchen stocked with really healthy food.

This week, my staples included:

Twinings Green Tea Lemon. That's right.  Can you hear me down there? I'm shouting from the pinnacle of snobbiness. With my pinky in the air.

Sweetening things (tea, coffee) with agave nectar, which, if you've never tried it, is awesome because it doesn't cause blood sugar spikes (..meaning I don't whisper sweet nothings to Harper's graham crackers), it doesn't crystallize like honey, and, for all the Weight Watchers, it has a gram of fiber per serving. Delish.

Boca Burgers. No bun, mustard, pickle. Boom! Vegan-ed. Brandon had a bite and said it tasted like a North Carolina Public School Rib-e-que. Don't lie and say you've never had one of those. ...and with that, I'm off the pinnacle.

Pop Chips. Vegan excellence. Not fried, not baked. The best thing about them is that there are only three servings in one bag, so if you I go buck wild, all is not lost. I'm impressed with all varieties except Salt and Vinegar.. which is strange, because I think I could eat a salt and vinegar-flavored Rainbow flip-flop.

Saving the best for last. Courtesy of our extremely awesome, seriously carnivorous, open-minded friends, last night, I had SoyRizo for dinner. Now, I haven't actually prepared it.  Bless their hearts, our friends went so far as to dispose of the package before I got there so I didn't have to see the nitty gritty, which, they allow me, is quite.. pasty. But, it's delicious, it tastes exactly like sausage and I am DYING to try some recipes with it!

Week 4 Result - Down 1 lb. What else is new. Happy Valentine's Day!

Top of the Muffin, to ya! - Week 4

On a blog I read regularly, the author suggests that you make a list of reasons why you think you can't lose weight. She says that what you'll have at the end is just a list of excuses & that the only thing stopping you is you.

Without further adieu:

Reasons it's cool to stay fat - winter edition:

1.This weekend, when we went snow tubing at Ski Liberty, I got some major air. Hang time, if you will. I felt like a jet engine was strapped to my inner tube, but nope. That's just my huge butt and my good friend, gravity.

2. When I bundle up for c25k runs, I don't look easy to kidnap.

3. Stranded in a snow drift in Chicago on Lake Shore Drive? I won't starve or freeze to death. I'll just be hitting my stride on Day 3.

4. If I take a little spill on black ice, I probably won't break my coccyx.

While I welcome any excuse to inject Uncle Rico, that's just what they are. Excuses.

Sure, there are more believable ones, like:

1. It's too cold - I do not own enough clothing to keep me warm outside, right now.

2. Harper hates the stroller and screams so loudly that I'm afraid people will think I'm abusing her.

3. I'm too tired.  I'm falling asleep by 8:00 p.m. on an easy day.

4. With all of our playdates and classes and errands, I just don't have time! ((eyeroll & Scarlett O'Hara faint))

That last one is the worst of all.. the Stay at Home Mom Excuse.

I can, however, think of one really, really huge reason to work hard to make my life as long and as healthy as possible.  It's funny, because the reason is small - only 27 lbs - and also fits in an inner tube.

This week, I lost 1 lb. No excuses, next week.

I heart you.

((steps up on soap box))

Y'all, it's American Heart Month. Do you know the warning signs of a heart attack? Learn them. Do you know basic first aid and CPR? Learn it. Are you at risk for heart disease? Find out. Do you think you might be at risk for high blood pressure? Take a quiz.

You don't want to be caught with your pants down if you or someone you know has the big one.

Go to the doctor.

Go Packers.

((steps off))

Top of the muffin, to ya!: Week 3

Stress: I eats it.

The grocery list in my purse on Tuesday included asparagus, collard greens, chickpeas, tofu and a host of other ingredients that would warrant - best case scenario - a side eye from my husband and a furtive glance at the cabinet to make sure we had plenty of cereal in case my concoctions took a turn for the gross.

As I pulled into a parking spot at the grocery store, I chatted on the phone with a friend about something silly.  As soon as we came to a swift conclusion regarding the minutia in my life, she gently and gracefully told me that the previous day, she found out she has cancer.

Rather than explain one of the most horrifying conversations of my life - where we both managed to cry and laugh - I'll just tell you what was in my cart when I left:

chocolate pudding cups
Fruit Roll-ups
canned pasta (spaghetti-o's)
Almond Joy coffee creamer
cookie dough

I'd like to say that I came to my senses when I unloaded the fat grenades from the trunk, but..

Because my friend lives so very far away and I couldn't bake her a casserole or give her a hug or watch her children to give her a break, I did the next most helpful thing:

During Harper's nap, I catatonically sat on the couch - eating pieces of chewy, artificially flavored high fructose corn syrup - and cried the Mom Cry (which is the 5-second boohoo from which you recover as quickly as it started.  Almost like it didn't happen? This generally occurs spontaneously several times over the course of the day so that it equals one good cry, but your mascara doesn't run as much and your eyes don't stay swollen all day.) while reading everything the Internet had to offer on her illness.

A couple of days later, I was trying to get a grip when..

The heavens snowed a foot and the power went out for 36 hours.

Somehow, Toddler + Treacherous Roads + Husband Working Hours Later Than Expected = Wendy's Spicy Chicken sandwich

In this very second, I could tell you 15 things that would render you incapable of ever eating another piece of chicken.

The fog lifted on Friday morning, when I woke to a warm house, an electrified coffee maker and a head full of statistics and hope for my friend.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday were filled with fresh fruit, veggies, green tea, water and activity.

Somehow, I managed to shock my body so harshly that I lost 1 pound, which is roughly equivalent to a chair blowing off the deck of a cruise ship.

Next week, I'm back on the horse. Full time. The normal horse, not the crazy horse (not the Native American war leader and especially not the Myrtle Beach variety).

Top of the muffin to ya!: Week 2

Me: "I know absolutely everything about how to lose weight! How come I'm still fat?" 

Brandon: "Haha. Baby, some are meant to play the game.  Others are meant to coach." 

With that, I give you this week's update on my three part approach to reclaiming fitness by May:

1. I did exercise every day.

2. I've relaxed the veganism, as I knew would eventually happen, into snobby vegetarianism. I've realized that I absolutely can't get worked up about the conditions under which organic milk and eggs are produced. If the animals are treated humanely and aren't given antibiotics and hormones, I just can't get worked up.  Call me Type B. Sure, it'll take a little more work on my part to find out where products like this are sold, but it's a small price to pay for being able to eat yogurt, again. Yogurt is good for you. Diatribe over.

3. I drank a gallon of water every single day. And my wedding ring fits over my huge, jammed-way-too-many-times-to-be-healthy knuckle, again. Bliss.

Highlights:

1. The purchase of blood oranges. ..Yeah, they taste pretty much like regular oranges but they're creepy and look like blood and that's fun. I aspire to hook Harper on them, so she can add it to her repertoire of scary things she's able to do to ward off bullies.  I wouldn't have messed with any kid who ate blood oranges for lunch.

2. The persimmons were restocked at our grocery store this week! Have you ever eaten a persimmon? Buy one. They're sweeter than fudge and they're so good for you! They're ripe if they're ugly, have black spots and are so soft that you could poke your finger right into it. Don't eat them until they're like this.

3. A Starbucks Short Latte. It's 8 oz. It's not on the menu. It's cheaper and obviously has less calories. These are good things. Try one!

Lowlight: 

The low point of the week came yesterday.  Harper was causing a huge ruckus in the back seat so when we stopped at Einstein's, I ordered her a cinnamon raisin bagel.  When I got back to the car, I realized it was a cinnamon sugar bagel and knew immediately I was doomed. Shore nuff, before we got home, I had eaten half of it. You know.. In those little bites that don't have calories. ((Looks around for the vegan police, 'cause it sure wasn't soy butter holding all that stuff on the top of that bagel)). 300 calories. For half.

Result: Down 4 lbs. In your face, players.

Top of the muffin, to ya!

The last thing I'd ever do is turn this into a weight loss blog. Obviously, some actual "loss" would have to take place to make that a reality, but secondarily, fun things happen in my life that are far more awesome to talk about.  Like coffee filter wreaths.

But before I get into the awesome that is that wreath, tomorrow, tonight I'll say this: We're going to Fort Lauderdale in May and I'm not taking a muffin top with me. I'm feeling the pressure from a stringy, three-headed monster named Polyester, Spandex and Lycra.

Luckily, I have a three-pronged approach:

1. I'll do some sort of exercise every.single.day. If it's warm enough and light outside - because our treadmill broke and our neighborhood is spooky at night - I'll get in a C25K run. If it's not or not, I'll do Wii Zumba, a Pilates dvd or Wii Just Dance.  

Regarding the latter: Enjoyable in equal parts are the 80s-heavy choreography and Brandon's sweet moves. I can not understand how the Wii possibly favors his flailing and constant bouncing (Tigger does Jersey Shore fist-pumping), but he almost always beats me, so I guess that makes me Pooh.

2. I'll continue with my super healthy, slightly unorthodox Vegan diet. ..b/c it would be embarrassing to be the only fat vegan in history.

3. I will drink so much water that Harper will get to follow me into the bathroom at least thrice as often as she does, now. Don't have a toddler and know anything about this? Ha. Just wait.

And since Monday is a total fail of a day, I'll update every Monday until May.

Against the Wind

Elementary School: Upon completion of the dreaded 1 Mile Run, a teacher looked me square in the face and said, "I can walk it faster than that."

Middle School: Made sports teams. Had no choice but to run every. single. weekday. Oh, the horror.


High School: Same thing. Then, quit because I sucked in a furious rebellion. Then, accidentally made the bowling team my senior year, spent the winter eating cheese fries at Lafayette Lanes, turned into a Chris Farley-esque version of myself, realized the error of my ways and ran every morning until college to undo the damage.

College: I regularly ran - usually outside, by myself. My theory on how I alluded kidnappers: I tend to flail a little lot and make scary, jerky faces, so any potential axe murderer/rapist probably wouldn't have wanted me. After flirting with long distance running (ok. totally not long distance to an actual runner. . .) but with more than a few 14, 15, 16 mile runs under my belt, I could have probably hopped a 5K on one leg with no shoes. Or toenails.. because most of them fell off from the running. Eww.


Milwaukee & Maryland: Gone were the days of hours on a treadmill because I had to do this thing called.. work for money. Weather permitting, I did manage to make it to the gym or run around our super cute neighborhood(s).

18 months ago: Someone chewed me up and spit me out . . . and that very small person was Harper. After 9 months of toting around her little watermelon self, then bringing her into the world, I was spent. Those of you who "bounce right back," bless your hearts. That was not me. Everything hurt and I was so sleep deprived that I got winded and sore walking around the grocery store. I never thought I would ever be the same until..

Yesterday: My name is Courtney, and I have started a Couch to 5K training program. Because like every other 40 year old, I need to take it slowly. Ever the planner, I chose to begin in mid-January (what the..?) and got the weeks confused on my mp3 player . . .so I started on Week 2, instead of Week 1. ((flops on couch, dies))

I think I can, I think I can.

Day 5 of veganism, three slip-ups. None intentional, even though I've been eyeballing the chocolate cherries on our kitchen counter so hard that I'm positive they can't continue to withstand the pressure. I keep waiting for one to spontaneously combust.  When it happens, I just hope its near my mouth. 

Bring on the indiscretion:

1. Day 2. Brandon has announced, quite dramatically, on several occasions that his life is only worth living after a coffee flavored frappuccino on Saturday mornings. Well, the baristas flubbed his order and presented him with a caramel frap, which aside from the squirt or two of caramel, is topped with an obscenely tall tower of whipped cream. Just to get out of the claustrophobia-inducing nightmare that is our Starbucks on Saturday morning, we accepted the tower amid a Brandon side-eye and grumble about its girlyness. In a weakened, decaffeinated state, he deemed it acceptable and thrust the straw my way for corroboration. Whoops.

2. Last night. I licked the lid of Harper's yogurt.  Old habits die hard.

3. Today. I cooked an amazingly delicious Gardenburger brand veggie burger (seriously, I yelled from the kitchen, to no one in particular, that it was the best thing I've ever eaten and that my taste buds are clearly responding to this whole veganism shtick) . While contemplating another putting another on my plate, I saw a little oily residue from the bygone burger, and because my BFFs, the veggies, wouldn't do me like this, I checked the ingredients list: cheese. Burger fail. Apparently I bought the one variety in their product line that contains cheese. Vegan fail.

Pressing on.. one tofu square and crockpotted lentil soup at a time.

Because, clearly, I'm insane.

I've decided to become a vegan.  Not forever.  Maybe just for a week, or just until tomorrow (as is typically the way my notions go). Cue the eye roll. I know. I get it.

On Christmas Eve, I had one of the best dinners I have ever, ever had. . . Beef Wellington (For serious..tenderloin all huggy with puff pastry? What could be better?), prepared by our very, very good friend who's extremely worldly ..and eats crazy things on the regular.

If he hadn't made it, I probably would have never chosen to eat it. ..and if you've never had this amazingly decadent, super rich food, you definitely shouldn't die without eating it. Go ahead.  Put it on your bucket list. Don't let the pate impugn your curiosity.

Anyway, after a fun night spent with our friends while Harper quietly snoozed and waited for Santa, I began to feel strangely... unwell. Gurgly, hot, cold, hot.

For an hour or so, I ignored it and chalked it up to being so darn excited about Christmas and all of Harper's presents. When I couldn't ignore it any longer (you know, when your mouth starts to weirdly water. . .not in a good way), I made the loud and lady-like proclamation that I would, most certainly, barf.

I'll fast-forward about three hours when, weak and sweaty, I curled up in a ball in bed and squeaked to Brandon that I would never, ever eat beef, again. After all, it wasn't the first time I had reacted so. . violently.

As kismet would have it, I had just purchased a new "diet" book called Skinny Bitch. I'll admit that the name caught my eye - as I've mentioned before, I am the very most perfect consumer - and I heard it was actually much more than "another diet book" by promoting a clean, sensible approach to eating.

Obviously, I wouldn't have purchased it if the back cover had divulged the fact that the authors are anti-cheeseburger.

Because it's the way I roll, I read the whole thing the next day during Harper's nap. It's inflammatory, it's reactionary, the authors talk out of both sides of their mouths, they're incredibly liberal, which I am so incredibly..not, but they cite credible sources regarding their vegan argument and offer great suggestions on how to "clean up" the way you eat.  And I like clean things. . .

So, I've been a cheeseless, meatballless, crazy person for two days. ..and I feel great. Assuming I don't cave to the wiles of the saucy minx..also known as the cocktail wiener.. at a party tonight, I'll attempt to convert everyone in a later post.  Kidding. Happy New Year!

Type B disinfects

Brandon works at a hospital, and I have a toddler who, despite my very best efforts, is determined to chew on the side of the grocery cart at least once per trip. We make it through flu season on a wing and a prayer.

I've already lauded the Clorox wipe, but there are two other products that get me through the week:

The first is a carry-over from Harper's earlier days - It's a Medela Quick Clean Micro Steam Bag. A few times a week, I do a paci round-up (b/c, like Cheerios, they reproduce in our home.  They like to do it on the floor.), throw them all in this bag with sippy cups or bottles or Harper's toothbrushes, add 2 oz. of water and heat in the microwave for 1.5 minutes. It kills all of the germs! No boiling, no haz-mat suit, just.. done! You can use one bag up to 20 times!

Because they're cheap, I have multiple.  One is for adult toothbrushes,  I won't even go into the germs that accumulate on a toothbrush. ..Not that I really care, b/c I'd brush my teeth with it either way, ..probably even if it fell on the floor and I managed to get it within the bounds of the 5 Second Rule, but if it only takes 1.5 minutes to have a really clean one every now and then?  Yes, please!

I have a separate bag for kitchen sponges - although I've heard you can just stick them straight in the microwave, I give them the steam bag treatment, too.

I buy them at Target. Yes, you have to venture into the baby section, my non-baby-having friends.  Worse yet, they're in the breastfeeding section.  The good news is that you don't need boobs to buy them.  ..and if lactating boobs make you nervous or faint or wreck the mental images you so dearly love, you can buy them online. Guys, you have the right to a clean toothbrush, too..

Other thing:

Everyone knows about a Swiffer Wet-Jet. Well. . . did you know that there exists a solution for the Swiffer which kills 99.9% of household bacteria? . . . Whatever the question, dead bacteria is the answer.  Especially in light of the fact that many of us may be washing our face with our underwear.

I hope this post makes it seem like I have it together, because after a day like yesterday - when I lost a gift card, found out I neglected to pay our car insurance and cleaned poop out of the bath tub, I need a win.

The hips don't lie.

As a woman, I can pretend that stilettos don't hurt my feet, that plucking my eyebrows doesn't bring tears to my eyes and that the shapewear tank top I recently purchased doesn't crush my ribs so fiercely that I have to recline the driver's seat.

After all, I am a woman, and I live by the credo that it is better to look marvelous than to feel marvelous.

While I can't do anything short of horrifying for my eyebrows and, let's be honest, cute shoes are worth it,  I've decided to make a commitment to fitness. ..So I won't feel the need exist in a world of medieval torture that is that tank top.

..and staying true to the original purpose of my blog, I find myself resolute.. a full month before the new year.

Last night, I took the "before" pictures.  Oy vey! I now believe that it was an act of mercy, not form or function, that our heads are oriented to the front and our butts are in the back.  I'm so happy I don't have to look at my butt all day.

And no, I'm not posting the "befores" without the "afters."