Sicko

The creeping crud that I get whenever the weather changes is back.

I suppose the only good side effect is that I don't really feel like eatng anything, which really isn't a plus....the worst part is that exercise went out the window today. it was all I could do to drag my carcass into the shower and get myself to work. Ugh.

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, and I am going to go get a referral to an ENT doc when I am there. I am chronically stuffed up, most of my breathing is through my mouth , and it has affected my sleep and exercise for as long as I can remember. I know people attribute my "panting" to the fact that I am fat, and not that I simply can't breathe through my nose.

My weight isn't going down. I need to be patient, but sometimes it's just impossible. I have never been this heavy, and I just don't understand it.

Oh Chili's. Say it aint so.

I tried to make a good choice tonight for dinner.

This is after I hopped on the scale this morning, and could not stifle the scream that rose in my throat. I mean, I know I am retaining water, and I know that exercising also plays a part in that, as well as the crap that I ate all weekend. But I was active, walking every day up hills.

The number that showed up can't possibly be a fluke, however. It's the highest allowable number that I have, and if I pass it up, the terrorists win.

So I have been logging food, and did my run this morning, and I am also going out to walk doggies tonight.

I got home late this evening, and The Man said, "You know, this has been a crappy last few days. What do you want?" And when I said, "I want to not have to make dinner," my wish was granted. I did some cursory googling of restaurants, and I determined that Chili's was the way to go. Steak fajitas! Pricey, calorie-wise, at 790...but I had the room left.

Then a waiter dropped a tray and ranch dressing splattered everywhere, including our booth. Our waiter asked if we'd accept a free dessert, on them?

Yeeeeeees, sure. We'll split it. Halve the damage.

So I come home, and re-google, to see what the dessert cost me. HOLY CRAP. The whole thing is 1600 calories. Which is so obscene, I am not sure I can believe it. So half a brownie and some ice cream cost me around the same as my fajitas. I double check to make sure, and under the fajita totals, it says, "Does not include flour tortillas." So I looked them up. 125 cals per tortilla. I ate three. Then I realize it also didn't include cheese, guac, salsa, or sour cream, all of which I had used in moderation. 200 more calories.

Since I had the page pulled up, I made a mental note of what I should order at Chili's next time. A cup of Chicken Tortilla soup- 140 calories, and it would fill me up nicely. Then the salmon or the black bean burger from the Guiltless Grill menu. Ok, live and learn.

At this point, I am so far over my daily allowance that it is almost laughable. The thoughts that I am having involve ice cream, and rationales like, "At this point, wthere's no looking back."

But I am going to be good, walk the dogs, and try to silence the evil voices with hot tea and self-denial. And boy, does that not sound like fun!

My intentions are good...

Has it really been over a year?

I don't remember if I explained, but I have spent the last year, wrestling with fertility meds, on the quest to have a baby. And here I am, still in the same place. No baby, 245 lbs.

I have probably lost and regained the same 10 lbs a few times since I have been here last. And I just have to thank heaven that I haven't gone UP. The amount of progesterone I was taking turned me into a hormone-laden Victorian maiden who just wanted to lounge on a fainting couch and drink eat cookies and read banned literature all day. (what, don't you drink cookies? Hello, auto-pilot!)

So once again, I am leaping upon the fool's errand of starting a program the week of Thanksgiving. Which coincidentally, falls on the same day as my 33rd birthday this year.

It's time.

My sign from the universe was the return of my Shangri-La Diet book, and the mention by Secret Squirrel of meeting a a co-worker from the East Coast who has lost 100 lbs.

"And she's just...adorable!" gushed SS. "I mean, I never would have known."

I was skeptical. "How did she do it?" I asked, while visions of Atkins and gastric bypass and bulimia danced in my head.

"Running. I'm not kidding. She said she started with running one minute, walking four. As she got in better shape, she could run more, walk less...and the rest is history. She said she changed her eating habits a little- cut back sodas, more water, you know. But if she wants the chocolate cake, she just has the chocolate cake."

Well, crap. I want to have my chocolate cake- well, creme brulee in my case. And eat it too.

So this morning I excavated the treadmill from beneath a metric ton of yarn and dusted it off. I discovered three workout videos that I bought several months ago, which don't even have the plastic cracked on them. I added them to the towering stack that I have. but never use. I got out the ELOO. I pulled out my cross trainers. I gave up on finding my mp3 player as a lost cause, and I turned up the stereo and started running.

For me, it is all about getting started. First, I decided on a 20 minute workout- that would be three minutes of running, and the rest, walking at a slightly elevated pace. But then I got there, and I had only one for a mile, and I wasn't really even sweaty yet, although I was panting.

OK, one more sprint. More walking. One more sprint. And before I knew it, I was looking at
1.75 miles, and it just seemed like the thing to do to suck it up and make it to two.

And it damn near killed me, but I did. I did it. Six one minute sprints, 35 minutes of aerobic exercise.

I had to scale back the running on the last two sprints, but it was still definitely running.

God, I am beginning to sound like Rain Man.