The Body Follows the Mind

Now I know it's been less than 48 hours since my first post went up, but I am writing to report 2 successes. Involving Cookies. Three, if we consider baked goods. I have refused a second piece of luscious, apple pastry from Denmark, a perfectly round oversized sugar cookie WITH M&M's, and just now, I carefully examined, inspected, sniffed and counted some what looked to be homemade chocolate cookies. And I RESISTED. Besides it being 8:05 in the morning, and the fact that eating all that sugar- compounded with flour interlaced with sex on toast, er, I mean chocolate - would render me and my brain useless for the next several hours, I made a simlple decision to at least WAIT till I had something else on my stomach. I chose one of the shiny fuji apple that my mother buys by the truckload (Im working at their house as we've just moved and STILL don't have internet service) from costco.

So, YAY! ME! As I walked back to the office, I realized de repente that not only did I NOT eat a cookie...but that: 1) I was in the kitchen cause I was actually hungry AND 2) I was WORKING! I've been here since about 7:25am, and I'm getting it done. See, discipline. Small steps, single decisions. And maybe I'm delusional, but I feel better already (sinuses notwithstanding)....body feels firmer, I feel lighter, and I'm craving a workout! I'll have to probably stick to the walking, cause the arm is in disrepair, but I will be FAT NO MORE!

Come on, gimme some American Excitement!
WOO FREAKING HOO!

Not Waiting For New Year's To Make A Resolution

Today is the first day of the rest of my life....or some other trite bullshit like that.

I just can't take it anymore. I've had to go out and spend money so that I can look presentable when I leave my house. And I'm appalled! Disgusted! But still trying hard to love myself and be forgiving. I mean, seriously, it's gotten to the point where I am embarrassed to see people who saw me several months ago at my fighting weight on the day I got married. I have gained at least 20 pounds since that day almost 8 months ago. I have legitimate, robust, hardcore excuses, er, reasons:

1. The transition to marriage and all that that brought: new eating habits, new sleeping habits, increased ingestion of alcohol (I married a Brit, after all - they have livers of stone!), new TV habits (My Brit also works for the cable company, so we get ALL the channels for free), new TV and eating habits (we watch a lotta TV while eating dinner...can we say gorge gorge gorge?), etc etc
2. Um, the Two-week honeymoon in Australia, where I tasted EVERYTHING under the sun, including kangaroo and crocodile. AND CROISSANTS every morning! And by croissant(S), I do mean MULTIPLE. With butter. And strawberry jam.
   
3. I stopped taking the speed that I took for 5 years. I mean, we all know that I've all the symptoms for ADHD, but I only took pills after I really couldn't hold it together any longer (another blog for another day). The pertinent thing here is that my metabolism was CLEARLY impacted by 5 years of methamphetamines. I mean, yeah, I knew it increased blood flow to my frontal lobe and affected my capacity to focus (in a good way!). What I didn't realize (though, really I should have) was how much it sped up my metabolism. Great googa mooga. I'm still waiting for my brain to sort it self out.
4. I've injured my shoulder (tendonitis is a beeyatch), which precludes me from playing my drums (stay tuned for the link to my feelings on drumming), precludes me from dancing, precludes me from working out (even little 3 pound weights), and it seems to be getting worse - though probably because I think it's getting better, before it really has and I keep trying to dance, drum, and workout "a little."
   
5. I really really really enjoy food. Really.

Shit, I just weighed my fat ass and I weigh 204.4 pounds. Now, my trainer (the one who got me into wedding shape) would admonish me for referring to my ass as fat. However, the reality is dual: my ass is FAT AND I need to be less critical of myself. And others. Seriously.

I spent Thanksgiving weekend with my in-laws in Austin. My Brother-In-Law offered my Sis-In-Law a monetary incentive to lose some weight. My hubby has followed in his brother's lead and done the same. I LOVE external incentives. I suppose that's partly what this blog is about (or it's just a thinly veiled attempt at creating a "legitimate" dissertation distraction, whatever). Being accountable to someone, something, even the ether, outside of myself. So I invite you to share your stories, insights, inspirational anecdotes, tricks and tips in the service of developing better selves. Cheerleading encouraged. I will stipulate that I foresee this blog getting awful personal, so I would ask that you respect my disclosures, revelations, and epithets with some sense of propriety (this may not be the right word, but the chardonnay is getting to me).

The goal is to get back to my fighting weight...165 pounds. That means, I've got to lose 39.5 pounds. Holy Hell. Now, I know it's not all about the numbers, but the blog is for qualification, and we'll use the measurements for quantification. I'm definitely feeling the chardonnay, so I'm gonna close out soon. I don't have a plan in place, that will develop organically over the next month or so, I'm sure - but I can definitely give baseline measurements:

So here goes:
Weight - 204.4 (GASP!)
Height - 5'8"
Bust - 44.5"
Underbust - 34"
Bicep - 12.5"
True Waist - 34.25"
Belly Button - 35.75"
Hips (at widest point) - 47.5"
Upper Inner Thigh - 28"
Thigh - 22.5"
Calf (at widest point) - 16"

While I've got a hard row to hoe, here's my silver lining: The numbers don't lie, I can see the HOURGLASS. And now begins the fight to streamline it. Here's to getting out of my own damn way.

My hope is that this blog (OMG, I'm blogging! - I'm pretty sure I've said I would never do this) will eventually become more transcendental and progressive...you know, about something less mundane than my frigging weight. Right now, however, my weight issues are indicative of a larger discipline issue. I'm gonna plan the work, and work the plan (thanks to Dead Prez for the phrase!).