March 2nd, 2010 by Kateastrophe
Are you aware that if you deny your body carbs for long enough, at some point you might crack and sit down and eat two entire loaves of bread in one sitting?
I haven’t done it yet but if someone were to present me with two loaves of Wonderbread it would be ON.
16.5 lbs down and counting . . . sigh.
February 1st, 2010 by Kateastrophe
So I didn’t want to talk about it too much (or really at all) because I’m the first person to get annoyed when someone starts talking about their fad diet, so shhhhh don’t tell my conscience but I’m on a diet. And it’s working.
I was like a lost, scared puppy at first because the calorie intake is really low and I’m SUCH a foodie. I was going to miss so many things. Then someone sent me a cookbook for this particular diet that was written by a real chef and the heavens opened and angels sang songs of praise. I am not lying when I say I’ve really enjoyed my diet food. Granted, there’s a distinct lack of snacks for this habitual snacker (recently solved with organic, sugar free apple chips! Aren’t you jealous??), but the food actually tastes GOOD! I spend a good part of my Sunday prepping and cooking for the week ahead, which is sort of annoying but I’ve discovered if I don’t do it, I’m likely to have contemplated eating my arm by the time I find food/prep and cook a meal. See, the portions fill me up once I EAT them. And I’m full for a good two and a half hours afterward but if I go past that amount of time without my next portion of food I turn into a pumpkin and die. Or something like that. Yay hypoglycemia! The point is if I take the time to prepare them ahead, I’m all set and am much less likely to cheat. So far I’ve had homemade marinara sauce, meatballs, amazing marinades for fish and chicken, delicious soups, and even some desserts! The cookbook is almost 200 pages so the possibilities are endless. And everything is truly healthy and on the low, low end of the glycemic index.
My one problem so far stemmed from the weekend and being home all day, close to the fridge. And the pantry. And the Costco. And the restaurants. I will admit to ingesting about two bites of chocolate cake, some extra Melba Toast (ok quite a bit of extra Melba Toast) and one Crispy Honey Shrimp at PF Changs. I’d heard horrible rumors of immediate weight gain if any deviation was taken from the strict instructions. I think the two hours of exercise that morning saved me because I still lost three ounces over the weekend. Which is not a lot, but it’s a loss and I’ll TAKE IT! Work makes things a lot easier because I have my neat little bag of pre-prepared, perfectly portioned food and if I eat it all for breakfast, my boss would most likely find me gnawing on the formica countertop in the lunch room while begging for quarters for the vending machine. This weekend (and the next one) will be more of a challenge because I’m going on trips, but after some investigation I’ve found lots of places that have food that I can eat. Memo to you guys; DON’T ASK FOR THE NUTRITIONAL INFORMATION AT PF CHANGS. Doing so caused nightmares of 65 grams of fat/1400 calories per serving proportions.
I’m not going to pretend I don’t miss potatoes. And pasta. And bread. And sugar. I’m just having to get creative and find interesting substitutes and I’ve learned so many fun things! Zucchini pasta? IS DELICIOUS. My Mom has been telling me this for years, I just refused to listen. Sorry Mom. As usual, you were right, blah blah blah. I’m also getting used to more heat and spice in my food. The incentive to burn more calories was just too tempting so I’m adding cayenne pepper to everything. Sometimes I regret the decision, but the body is slowly adjusting. Stevia is freaking awesome. Protein shakes don’t taste so bad. Mock-lemonade blended with ice and mint is unbelievable. Strawberries are the fruit of the gods. Squash is my friend. Buy a decent blender because the cheap one will light on fire in your kitchen on the first morning Stuff like that.
The point of all this blathering is that I’ve already lost ten pounds. And it seems completely possible to lose another ten to fifteen pound by the end of this madness. Not just possible but doable! Without death and vomiting or a tragedy to send me into a food deprived depression! I would lie and tell you I just want to be healthy but my real incentive is that Matt told me if I lose the goal amount of weight, he doesn’t care how many new outfits I buy and everyone knows and outfit isn’t complete without shoes. Scha-wing!!
July 27th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
Like most women, I formed my “body image” in my early teens. I decided what I liked and didn’t like about myself (like my boobs, hate my thighs) and began to form those opinions based on images that I saw. Now, the part that I’m not sure is so true for most people but is true for me is that I didn’t form these opinions based on supermodels or Hollywood starlets. Oh no, I formed it based on the girls next door.
I went to a public high school in a fairly affluent area of my hometown, which is actually known for it’s good looking girls. So, needless to say, I went to high school with some absolutely GORGEOUS people. Some absolutely gorgeous, absolutely SKINNY people who I have spent my life comparing myself to.
These were the girls I’d grown up with. The girls I went to church with, who I’d gone to dance class with. I had known them forever. Somehow I had grown up to be a bit round and soft and they had grown up to be svelte goddesses of beauty and slenderness. I’m not going to lie. It was frustrating. They were my friends but I was jealous of their tans and their skinniness and their boyfriends and all of it.
It’s been eleven (ELEVEN??) years since I graduated from high school and I’ve spent a considerable amount of that time not liking a lot of things about my body. Even when I was thirty pounds lighter, RIPPED from dancing four to five hours a day and then heading to the gym after school, I hated my legs. Even when I was sickly-skinny from a depressing break-up which caused me to drop ten pounds in just a few weeks, I still hated my butt. Why? Probably lots of reasons. But one of them was because every time I ran into one of those girls from high school, they were still skinnier than me.
I learned something this weekend that made me realize what a waste of my time and energy all of that was. Pretty much every.single.girl. I can remember comparing myself to back in those days had an eating disorder. I apparently went to Anorexia/Bulimia High School where girls didn’t eat but once a week and then when they did that, they’d throw it all up. Not only would they do it, but they’d do it ALL TOGETHER. Like a barf party! Even now, eleven years later, most of them are still dealing with the medical repercussions of starving themselves. Many of them are probably still not eating because many of them never got help. And I’m so, so sad for them.
And I’m embarrassed that I formed my self-image based on a lie.
I looked at myself with new eyes this weekend. Sure I have some cellulite and areas with more chub than is ideal. Sure I have things about myself that I still don’t like, but guess what? I’m healthy. I exercise regularly and I have a healthy heart, healthy kidneys, healthy bones. I have skin that glows and healthy, shiny hair. I have curves and muscles. I have all the things that prove that I am medically and mentally healthy. I like food. I like that I get hungry and that I can eat. I like to cook. I like to entertain and see people enjoy the things I’ve made. I have fun eating with friends.
It makes me sad to know that these girls are still dealing with these issues. I cannot fathom what it’s like not to enjoy a steaming plate of pasta or my Mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup. I can’t imagine what it was like to feel that kind of pressure from your friends.
Today I woke up a new sort of person. I’m more grateful than ever for my amazing friends. I’m more grateful than ever for my functioning body.
Now I just need to figure out a way to teach my future daughter how to get there before she’s almost thirty . . .
June 12th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
So, Sunday begins my whirlwind of travel. I’m basically gone for the next three weeks straight. This is cool for several reasons:
This is not cool for several reasons:
I’m already feeling exhausted, overworked and overwhelmed, and the next few weeks probably won’t help with that, BUT, I do love my job, my friends and my life so I don’t really have anything to complain about.
I’ll be reporting on my trips when I can and reading blogs during down-time via my Crackberry.
Now I’m going to get my adorable snoring husband off the couch and into bed. Tomorrow is our last day together for quite some time. Oh how I’ll miss him.
May 19th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
Total number of days on diet: 17
Amount of dairy eaten: almost none
Pieces of bread ingested: 2
Pasta eaten: 1 bowl
Fruit consumed: many, many pounds
Vegetables eaten: more than I care to think about
Chicken breasts boiled and tastelessly thrown into mouth: about 10
Salmon filets grilled: 5
Boiled egg whites eaten: at least a dozen
Bottles of water poured down my throat: Two full Costco pallets
Total number of body torturing weight training days: 9
Cardio workouts: 6
Pounds lost: 2. TWO.
Excuse me while I go drown myself in my Costco water and drop a 200 lb weight on my head.
May 14th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
“Did you just say ‘oopsy daisy?’” Yes. Yes I did.
I also just ate not one but THREE Paradise Bakery cookies.
Oh how the mighty have fallen. Not that I was really all that mighty. It’s only been a week and a half, after all. But I like to think I was mighty. I mean, hello I’ve been eating hard boiled egg whites for breakfast every day. Sheer willpower is what that takes, I tell you!
But seriously? If I didn’t hate throwing up more than almost anything else in the world (honest to goodness, I’d rather have Flying Pig Flu, Pneumonia, Strep Throat, a hernia, a dislocated knee, a club foot and the runs ALL AT THE SAME TIME than throw up), I’d run to the bathroom right now and purge myself of this horridness. I don’t ever recall having felt so disgusting. My stomach is mui mad at me, and so am I for that matter.
And now I must go face the wrath of Bob. Bob is my trainer. He’s huge. And mean. I’m scared.
May 11th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
So I had this whole plan to write a loving tribute to the fabulous Mothers in my life and then POOF! My life exploded, I was late for church, I had to prepare dinner for my in-laws and all of a sudden the day was gone. So I didn’t. Mom’s I love you thanks for all you do. There. Tribute sucks, but it’s done.
Those of you waiting with baited breath for my next trainer update will be happy to know that after completing the back workout on Thursday and the KILLER leg workout on Friday, I was unable to bend at the waist or the knees all weekend. And I thought I missed the use of my arms!
Despite my handicap, I was delighted to start eating pasta, sugar and dairy again, if only for the weekend. I ran as fast as I could on Friday night to The Olive Garden to get all three in as much as I could in one meal. Much to my chagrin, I was only able to eat one breadstick, half a bowl of Minestrone soup and about four bites of my delicious Baked Ziti. This continued for the rest of the weekend. I could only eat half my mashed potatoes, a few small bites of pizza and I felt absolutely disgusting after eating one Ooey Gooey Cupcake. WHO AM I AND WHERE HAVE THEY TAKEN MY SOUL???
I’m back on the diet wagon and today I have only had an apple and two boiled egg whites. Mmmmm tasty. I bet you’re jealous. Tonight we start the workout all over again with shoulders and chest. If I haven’t mentioned before that my shoulders are the wussiest part of my body, let me just admit that now and admit I’m dreading tonight. I’m also dreading what the trainer calls “Ataris” for my abs. I can’t find a link to explain it but I’m pretty sure the Chinese used it as a form of torture in the middle ages. All I can ask is that you all pray for me to have the strength to endure my trials. My self inflicted, not exactly cheap, good for my body trials.
I guess now that I say it that way I take it back. I’ll report back tomorrow.
If I live that long . . .
May 6th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
Last night I had my second workout with the trainer. Day 1 was shoulders, chest and lower abs. Day 2 was biceps, triceps and all-over abs. Day 1 + Day 2 = No remaining core strength and arms that are about as useful as a strand of cooked spaghetti. Seriously. Ow. (Um, sidenote? Will someone explain to me how ab workouts make ones hip flexers hurt? Because oh they do.)
The hilarity of my evening began right as soon as the workout was over. I grabbed my stuff and (painfully) and hobbled to my car. Now, I drive a sturdy German car with a sturdy, heavy steering wheel. I didn’t think of how difficult it would be for my spaghetti arms to steer. Let’s just say it took about five minutes and a lot of convincing to make my arms do anything that resembled steering. I’m very lucky that most of the twenty mile drive home is on a straight freeway. Seriously.
Now we’ve established that I drive a sturdy German car. What I left out is that it’s a sturdy German car that’s really low to the ground. Getting out of it on a normal day Is hard enough. Now imagine not having any sort of muscle system with which to assist getting out. It was like . . . Jell-o attempting to climb out of the mold. NOT SO EASY.
I finally succeeded in getting out of the car and hobbled inside and collapsed on the couch. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly about THAT decision because I was starving and hadn’t eaten since my lunch of trail mix and a boiled egg. (So not kidding.) Getting myself off the couch may be the best moment of my day. I attempted to push my upper body into a sitting position, only to be foiled when my core AND arms refused to cooperate with my brain and I was only able to lift myself about an inch. I collapsed back down, defeated for the moment and tried to decide what my next move was. My solution? Beached whale. (Explanatory tangent: My freshman year in high school we had an all school assembly in which the student counsel put together small skits before each act was introduced. The one that sticks out in my mind is Amy Groesbeck as the beached whale. She must have been in eighteen layers of white clothing, rolling around on the front of the stage while Danny Kranny looked at her and asked what was wrong. In a low, drawn out voice she just kept repeating “IIII’Mmm beeeeaaacchheeeed.” Again and again Danny asked “what are you DOING Amy?” and she’d just shout “Beeeaaacchheeeed! I’mmmmmm beeeaaaccchhheeed!” and eventually the skit was over. It might not sound funny now but at the time? It was hilarious.) So long story short, THAT is what I did to get off the couch. I held my arms to my sides and rolled right off. Then getting off the floor was another problem . . . but eventually I did and got some food. Then I laid back down on the couch . . . and had to do it all over again when I wanted water. Sigh.
NOW for the shower. OH THE SHOWER. I was so stinky and sweaty and had to shower. But, you see the problem right? I CAN’T USE MY ARMS. Don’t worry, I made Matt come wash my hair. Which he’s never done before. And I have very long, majorly thick hair. So a boy washing that? FUNNY STUFF.
After the shower I climbed in my nice, comfy bed and proceeded to sleep terribly because every time I had to move I had to wake up and slowly roll over. Whale style.
Seriously?! Ow.
May 4th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
Remember last year when I went all workout gung ho? Then I just sort of . . . stopped?
Well, I haven’t been “off” the wagon but I definitely haven’t been “on” the wagon either since then. I just sort of . . . hung on to the wagon? All while gaining weight and getting back up to the number I swore I would never, ever, ever see again. Stupid number. Stupid scale. Stupid yummy food.
Well, today, that all changes. I’ve signed up for a Bikini Body Challenge that start today and goes until July 31. I’m working with Bob, a ‘roided out, scruffy voiced giant hulk of a man who, when he found out how far I live from his gym? Told me he’d kick my butt EXTRA for my trouble.
Hold me, I’m scared.
The training is four days a week, 45 minutes each time I go. It comes with photos (shoot me now) a body scan (slit my wrists) and a body mass index analysis (cyanide? Anyone?). I’m terrified to find out how fat and out of shape I really am. It also comes with a food plan (seriously. My life needs to be over) and I’m sure they’re taking away my carbs. Oh how I’ll miss them.
So folks, pray for me. The girl I know who recommended this trainer came back after her first day of working out with SWOLEN ARMS. I’m not even joking a little bit. Be prepared for some serious Kate whining.
April 30th, 2009 by Kateastrophe
I just got a kind note from BlogHer telling me that I haven’t posted in a week. Aren’t they nice? Such a friendly little reminder that I suck at this blog thing lately.
I was looking through my archives recently and remembering fondly the days of posting almost every single day. And to top it off? I was FUNNY, and WITTY and DEEP. Boy could I be deep sometimes. Not that I assume all of you have hours on your hands, but you should peruse my archives. Good stuff in there.
I guess lately I just have bloggers block. I don’t have quirky, fun blog posts floating around in my head anymore. I don’t think of deep things to say and I’m pretty sure if you guys see one more post of bulleted items about my lame life, I’m going to lose at least one of when you poke yourself in the eye with a sharp stick just to MAKE.IT.STOP.
I guess I’ve just been busy.
I’m on another healthy kick. I’ve been off the juice for over three weeks now with only one minor cheat at Disneyland. I had ONE SIP of Matt’s Diet Coke while we were eating dinner at Blue Bayou. It was a last ditch effort to make my head stop hurting. I know it was psychosomatic, but by damn, it worked! I’ve been eating MUCH smaller portions and limiting sugar (I know, I’m STUPID.). I’m not so great at a heavy workout every day, but I’ve been much more active and go on walks and all that crap. You heard me. Crap. I should really ride my bike more but . . . yeah. Did I tell you the story of my first bike ride? No? Well I should.
I got a nice mountain bike for Christmas LAST year. I rode it exactly three times in over a year. Around the block. Once. Go me.
Well, Matt bought a bike while I was in Florida in January, so about two months ago we decided to go on a Saturday morning bike ride. I knew I would have to take it a little easy since I wasn’t exactly in “bike shape” but I figured biking is easy, right? So off we went. We rode around, had a good time, went up some hills (I HATE YOU, HILLS) and then I told Matt we should head home because I was starting to “feel it.” What “it” was I have no idea, but I was feeling it. We got about six blocks from our house when I saw my best girl JoAnne heading out on a jog with her babies. We stopped and hopped off the bikes to talk to her for a minute when all of a sudden I was seeing stars. I’d never really seen stars before and I thought it was totally cool until I realized I was in the process of PASSING OUT. I said “woah, I’ve got to sit down,” and plopped myself down on the sidewalk. I told Matt to take my bike as the stars turned to blackness. Now, I didn’t actually pass out, but I came VERY close. Now, you must understand I wasn’t really out of breath, we hadn’t had a horrible hard bike ride . . . nothing. Apparently my blood just pooled in places OTHER than my brain and POOF. It was so embarrassing. JoAnne had to go back to her house and get her CAR to take me the SIX BLOCKS TO MY HOUSE. That’s right, six. I couldn’t even make it two steps. Stupid bike. We’ve been fighting ever since.
And with that, I’m going to get back to work and finish off the pint of strawberries I brought to work with me today. You heard me, PINT. They’re healthy. I’m allowed. Shhhh.