I'm Joining a Gym!

Now that we are getting more settled and I've started taking weight loss seriously, I decided it was the perfect time to join a gym.

Joe and I walked over to one nearby (yes, within walking distance!) and checked out the pricing, facilities, classes, etc.

I'm really excited, the gym has a ton of machines and classes are included for free. This is a huge difference from the gyms I am used to in California, where classes for members could be as much as $10 per class, and non members would pay closer to $15.

That means I'll finally get to try Zumba! Which, unfortunately, is at 5 p.m. so once I get a job I won't be able to continue.

***Side Note*** Why the heck does a gym have classes at 5 when most people get off work at 5. Why not 5:30? Even 5:15? They do have a few 6 p.m. classes, but they don't sound as fun. Boo. ***End of Side Note***

I'm going to do a 3 month trial because it is at a great rate and, before I make a longer commitment, I want to make sure that it's something I'll realistically be able to keep up with when I start working.

I originally planned to wait until I was hired somewhere and knew where it was located and what the hours were, but since the job hunt hasn't been going spectacularly well, I decided not to wait around and see what happens. Who knows, between applying for jobs, interviewing, waiting for a start date, etc, it may be 3 months before I even start something. Though I hope not - we don't have unlimited savings.

I still plan to do 30DS every day, but given that I am unemployed and don't have anything else going on, I can certainly fit in more than 25 minutes of exercise.

Tomorrow I MIGHT wake up early and go to a spin class. Though the thought petrifies me - especially since these tend to be common sentiments:

Bringing Up Buster

It's been a little less than two weeks, but Buster has absolutely stolen our hearts.

I mean, look at his face, wouldn't he steal yours too?

The little guy loves us too, I've nicknamed him "my shadow" because wherever mommy goes, Buster follows. We think it has to do with being abandoned by his previous family and spending so long at the shelter. It's cute, but we don't want him to have anxiety and we've had serious trouble crate training him because the second we leave the room our quiet little guy starts barking and crying.

We went to the vet yesterday for a check-up, and got some great ideas to help with the separation anxiety and crate trouble. *Whew* not sure how much longer I can stand being holed up in this apartment. And every time he cries I feel like my heart is ripping out.

Speaking of heart ripping out, poor Buster was petrified at the vet. He shook like a leaf almost the entire time, and when the vet tried to take him he jumped into my arms, threw his front paws around my neck, and grabbed on for dear life. Good thing he's still a young guy (3) and in good health, because I don't want him to have to go to the vet again for a long time.

Knock on wood.

We are still trying to figure out his likes and dislikes. He sometimes has fun with his toys, but the only one he's really latched onto is a stuffed squirrel my mom and brother sent. He has annihilated that thing and loves to prance around the house with the squirrel in his mouth. It's too cute.

We tried taking him to the dog park the other day, but he was unimpressed. He just peed on or smelled everything.

Maybe this is a good place to pee.

This looks good too.

Dad - let me go so I can pee some more.

The one thing we are sure he loves (besides us) is being a total and complete couch potato. The vet said that comes from having some kind of sight hound in him (whippet or Italian greyhound are the most likely candidates).

He certainly doesn't love having his picture taken. I wanted a good picture of Buster and me, and that was just not in the cards...

Mom - don't you dare try to take pictures of me

I'll clean out your nostrils if you promise to stop

You think you have a big mouth?

That's nothing. Check this out.

I get worn out being so handsome

Weigh-In Wednesday

Now that I have done the (potentially CRAZY and later regrettable) act of admitting my weight for anyone to see on the ole bloggity blog, I feel like I can be honest about my progress from now on since I fully intend on never seeing 205.6 again.

I don't want my blog to be all weight related, so I decided that I'll do a once a week segment on my progress. This will keep me accountable AND keep this blog from becoming too narrowly focused.

And now, without further adieu: the first edition of "Weigh-In Wednesday."

Woot Woot! Down 2.2 pounds from yesterday. I weighed myself a few times since Linda is always so erratic, but she stayed consistent so I'll trust her (cautiously).

This might seem like pretty rapid weight loss, but that's how my body always is. The first couple days I lose a lot and then things kind of even out and it's a lot harder to drop weight. That's typically when I get frustrated and quit.

But I refuse to quit this time. That's why I am being so honest - because I am fine with disappointing myself (obviously), but I don't want to disappoint other people. Not only am I forcing accountability by blogging, but I also joined MyFitnessPal. I really like MFP so far. I've never enjoyed tracking calories, but the app makes it super easy because you can just scan the bar-code of whatever you are eating and it will instantly appear in your log.

Now, obviously, if food has a bar-code it is processed and the big thing right now in weight loss is clean eating. I can't do that yet. It will be a goal I work toward, but I need to start out easy and work my way up.

Speaking of starting, this morning I officially started The 30 Day Shred! So day 1 of 30 is complete. I don't know why I always dread doing it, the DVD is like 25 minutes. Sure, Jillian is a tough cookie, but I can be too (says the girl who probably won't be able to walk up stairs tomorrow).

Of course, I had to make trackers:

30DS sometimes doesn't shed a ton of weight, but it does shed inches. Gotta keep track :)

Doesn't look un-doable

1 down, 29 to go

  


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The Ugly Truth

So I did it. I stepped on Linda this morning, and she was worse than ever.

For those of you who weren't around for my last attempt at weight loss, Linda is what I call my scale because I believe it needs an exorcism like Linda Blair's character in The Exorcist. Also, these are not my feet.

Not only did she confirm the truth that I surpassed the 200 pound mark for the first time in my life, but she was her typical self showing me different number after different number. I'll give her a little credit and admit that the uneven floors of our 100 year+ apartment make accuracy tough, but we still don't like each other so I am not letting her off completely.

So how am I sure I weigh what I think I do? I picked the mode (how mathematical of me!) Of the 50 or so times I stepped on Linda (in various parts of our apartment seeking out the most even floorboards), this number appeared about 30 times. Also, I know my body. I knew I was over 200, and I knew it was by more than just a pound or two, but I also knew that it wasn't something super shocking. At least I hoped it wouldn't be.

***Side Note*** My, how I have let myself go when the very fact that I am over 200 pounds isn't super shocking in itself ***End of Side Note***

I've debated a lot about just how honest I want to be on this blog. It's public. My family reads it. My friends read it. Strangers read it. To actually document my weight is embarrassing.

But what I realized is that all these people see me. Whether in person or in pictures, the weight gain is no secret. So unless I am going to become a hermit, why hide the number? It changes nothing about my appearance.

My weight will be a measuring tool. It will keep me on track. By being honest on this blog, maybe it will give me that added push when I need it.

So here it is, the number I saw (the most times) this morning:

 205.6

Grody. I've got a lot of work ahead of me. And while today was a good day with eating (I'll pat myself on the back for that!), job hunting took WAY longer than expected and I didn't get exercise in. Baby steps.

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Job Hunting

Now that my family is gone and Joe and I are almost fully settled (that's right, a month in and we are still unpacking), I've started looking for a new job. I have a lot of anxiety around looking for a job, and for a long time I thought it was because I was worried I wouldn't find something.

I've realized that's not the case. At the risk of sounding conceited, I know I will find something eventually. It may not be exactly what I want to do or pay what I hope, but I have a college degree, great references, and 3+ years of "real world" work experience. Plus, I trust that God has a plan, and worrying about the inevitable is a waste of time.

What I've determined the cause of my anxiety to be is the fear of being uncomfortable. For a control-freak like me, discomfort is no bueno.

Think about it, every step of the process is uncomfortable: from trying to sell yourself in your resume/cover letter/interview, to potentially negotiating salary, to meeting the boatload of new co-workers you will interact with for 40 hours every week, to trying to learn the ropes of a new job while not seeming like an idiot by asking a million and one questions.

The thought of it all turns my stomach and makes my heart race.

But with Joe starting dental school next month (HOLY CRAP - HE'S STARTING DENTAL SCHOOL NEXT MONTH!!!!!!!! IT'S FINALLY ALMOST HERE!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!), I've gotta be the sugar mamma and bring home that bacon.

MMMMM bacon.

Speaking of bacon, this whole launch into weight loss is not going well. First, we had to abandon our Insanity plans because we didn't want to bring our building crashing down with all the jumping. Then, I seriously busted up my toe on my new Ikea desk and couldn't start the 30 Day Shred.

When my toe felt better, I couldn't even imagine trying to exercise because it is so hellishly hot and humid. I've tried eating somewhat healthy, but we had leftover pie. And ice cream. And pizza.

Now that my toe is healed and the pie, ice cream, and pizza are gone, I'm thinking that tomorrow might be the day I officially start a(nother) weight loss journey. I know just the thing that will motivate me, but I am not sure if I can do it.

I'm about to get real with ya'lls - so don't laugh/mock/or otherwise make me regret my honesty. I am 99.9999% sure that I now weigh 200+ pounds. That's 12 pounds up from where I abruptly stopped trying to lose weight around Christmastime, an assumed (because I didn't weigh myself) 30-40 pounds up from my wedding two years ago, and 55 pounds up from my lowest adult weight (sophomore year of college after several months of eating super healthy and daily exercise). And that all is assuming it's not more than the dreaded 200.

I know that if I wake up in the morning and weigh myself, the number I see will be the biggest I have EVER seen, and I am sure that nothing will motivate me more to finally get healthy than that punch to the gut. And, if I can be honest here with that number, maybe the public shame will push me even harder.

But I am petrified.

I guess we'll all see tomorrow if I wuss out or suck it up. I say the odds are 60/40 in favor of me chickening out. But, hey, maybe I'll surprise myself.

As American as Apple Pie

We now live in the birthplace of America, so you'd think we would have soaked up yesterday's 4th of July activities around Philly.

That didn't happen.

We have a new dog, and Buster is NOT a fan of his crate yet, so we had to make our own fun at home.

***Side Note*** It's a rule in our building that dogs must be crated when no one is home. I've never had an indoor dog before, so I didn't realize what went into crate training. I HATE IT. My heart rips out when my poor baby cries and paws at the door. I'm also pretty sure Joe and I are never going to be able to leave the house again at the same time. Joe is more optimistic. He also makes me leave the room if I start getting sad when Buster cries, worried that I am going to make our dog neurotic. It's probably a good thing I am practicing mommy-hood on a dog before we have kids ***End of Side Note***

Since I'd be stuck inside anyway, I got my mind wrapped around the idea of making a homemade apple pie. I've never made a pie before, and thought that now was as good a time as any to learn.

I don't always have the best of luck in the kitchen and tend to be too ambitious when I try to make things for the first time, so I decided to forgo making the crust from scratch. Instead, the goal was to practice making the filling and not burning or under-cooking the pie. Lofty enough goals for this wanna-be culinary goddess.

But somehow it turned out - and it was DELICIOUS:

I followed this recipe, which I highly recommend, making the following adjustments based on some of the comments:

• Used a combination of granny smith and pink lady apples (my idea!)

• Added 1 tablespoon of vanilla and 1 teaspoon of cinnamon to the sugar mixture

• Poured 2/3 of the sugar mixture on the apples before and 1/3 after adding the lattice instead of pouring it all on after

• Baked for 45 minutes at 350 instead of 15 at 425 and 30-45 at 350 (our oven tends to cook things quicker than other ovens I've used)

The only problem with the pie is that it was really watery, which my mom told me happens with apple pies in particular. I'm not experienced enough to know what caused or would solve this problem for sure, but she said to try mixing the apples with flour or cornstarch. The pie did become less liquid as it cooled more (and after sitting in the fridge overnight it is more like a runny caramel), so I'd probably try using cornstarch and making it a day early next time.

After dinner and pie, Joe and I took Buster for a walk and lit some sparklers. As a born-and-raised California girl (where fireworks are strictly forbidden for personal use), I've never even held a sparkler. So I was pretty excited :)

Buster's not too impressed haha

Yep - not one bit

And, of course, we had to watch Independence Day. I cannot believe the President's daughter is Egg (a.k.a. Her a.k.a. Plant a.k.a. Mouth a.k.a. Ann) from Arrested Development. That's one of my favorite parts about watching older movies (can you believe this one is 17 years old!!!) - seeing actors you now recognize from other things.

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Diet Delay

After the disappointing realization that Insanity won't work on our 114-year-old apartment floors, I decided that I'd go back to the tried and true Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred.

I've started 30DS about 8 times, and only finished it once (it gets a little boring for me, and my commitment to anything weight-loss seriously sucks). The time I did finish the whole 30 days was a few months before our wedding and it worked wonders. In fact, the alterations lady told me that I'd need to start drinking a few milkshakes before the big day because otherwise my wedding dress wouldn't work without some major reconstruction.

 ***Side Note*** Of course, her recommendation to drink milkshakes turned into a junk food free-for-all lasting until the big day, and I was not as small on my wedding day as I was after finishing the Shred. ***End of Side Note***

***Additional Side Note*** PLEASE do not think that 30DS is a miracle worker. It's a great program that made a big difference. How big? I'm not sure, because I didn't weigh myself before or after - just took measurements which I have since lost track of. I also did the elliptical for 30+ minutes 5x a week, didn't drink for 30 days and I ate like a saint. Few things will motivate a gal to finally shed pounds like a wedding. ***End of Additional Side Note***

Given that yesterday was the first of the month and a Monday (my two favorite days to start a diet), my plan was to start the Shred on July 1. However, Joe made biscuits and gravy the other day and I was jonesing for leftovers. Probably not the best breakfast on the day one decides to get serious about losing weight. So I told myself, "Self, July has 31 days. If I start on the 2nd, then I will finish the Shred on the last day of July." Made a ton of sense - so I had some cookies and a burger for dinner.

And then I banged my toe on my new desk. HARD. Like, so hard perhaps my right baby toe is broken. Dang Ikea furniture ALWAYS beats me up.

I had no idea one little toe could cause so much pain. It has been constant and I can barely make it up and down the stairs to our bedroom. So that kills the plan to start exercising today. And, given the level of pain, maybe even tomorrow.

But, unlike my typical diet delays, just because I can't exercise doesn't mean I can't start eating well. And with that, I'm off to enjoy my SmartOnes.

It must be delicious, as I accidentally dropped a few noodles on the floor and Buster went crazy for them.

 



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