Weigh-in Wednesdays: Week 2

Well team, technically it's Tuesday but our big move is tomorrow so I gotta post tonight (my time). And dang it, I packed away the scale so we'll just have to go with 2 lbs down so 75.3 kilos, 166lbs.

What have I been doing? Now I haven't been REALLY cheating. A couple of candies here and there and a few swigs of fruit juice in a hurry never killed anybody, right? The killer for me has been to actually find time to EAT. I likely would have been down a couple more pounds if it weren't for the constant skipping of breakfasts this past week but that's only because of all this moving chaos. So I have a valid excuse, right?

Exercise? How's schlepping heavy boxes and being off my ass more than on it? It counts. By bedtime, my eyes are closed before my head hits the pillow.

My next challenge will be once I've settled in to our new home. I'll have no excuses to NOT find and stick with an exercise regime AND I'll no longer be able to walk to the little man's school so will be bussing it on the days hubby has the car in Stockholm. So I'm really gonna have to make time for something substantial.

Exercise works for me when there's no way around it (ie. when hubby has the car and I'm forced to walk a few kms/miles). I cannot "go to the gym". First off, the time it takes to actually haul my arse and stuffs there, work out and haul it all back, well, I just don't have that kind of time. Sure wish I did. Hold on a minute, that's a defeatist attitude if I've ever heard one! Maybe I will have to make time. Maybe hubby will have to realize I'm serious about this and give me the time. I've heard serious health coaches say, "You always have time to exercise. You have to make time." Any suggestions on things I can do from home though?

I'm hoping by Thursday morning, I'll have some bacon and eggs cooking on the stove and maybe, just maybe, a Get Started exercise regime.

Here's a fun little add-on to our weekly weigh-in. How about posting an Inspiration Pic? It could be of you in your slenderer (yup, made that word up) days or perhaps of someone else. Mine takes me back to the Summer of 2007, little man and I on the beach in Herceg Novi. Look at that muscle in my thigh! I swear I do not know where that came from. I think maybe it was always there, just hidden under a few layer of uhmmm...insulation? See? I was no skeleton. Still have some meat but am able to wear a bikini sans wrap! Take me back there!



How about you all? What's been working for you? What are you eating/avoiding? Any tips or advice for the rest of us?

Hey Fat Arse!

That's what they should be yelling when I saunter or should I say, stomp, down the road.

I was really doing great before I left for Canada, a mere 3 kilos shy of my goal weight, partly spurred on by the pending trip and having to face the critical eyes of relatives (or at least my paranoia at them). And then, Canada. And Kraft Dinner and endless bowls of Party Mix and Nacho Dip and alcohol and well, Kraft Dinner. All of my comfort foods back to say "Hey, it's the holidays. Devour me. Worry later."

Hubby put up a snapshot of the two of us taken New Year's Eve, after spending 5 days grazing with my family, and I realized how pouffy my face looked. Great for camouflaging the wrinkes. But not so great at hiding "pleasantly plumpy". That photo, although a nice one, stares at me every day from the mirror in my bedroom.

I came back from Canada and for awhile there I was back to eating "normally", which for me includes avoiding carbs at almost all costs. I could feel the excess baggage dropping off. Week #2...Just completed the however-many-km walk to son's school and we're on the bus back home. Gotta stop at the grocery store for stuff. And those trips (about half the time, cuz I'm not THAT bad) involve filling up a small bag of candy for the little guy. "Hey, why not throw in a few for Mommy?" For two weeks, those few turned into like half the bag.

And there's something about me and sugar or nasty amounts of carbs. Once I get a taste, it's game over. Seriously. I cannot stop at one cookie. That cookie leads to 20 pringles, leads to another 2 cookies and before you know it, my spoon is in the ice cream container. DAMN IT!

I've always been a Bigger Girl, never grossly overweight, but "she could stand to lose a few pounds" (like 15-20) kinda girl. And then after the baby was born and I began working out almost daily and wasn't losing the kind of weight I felt I shoulda been for all that effort, I tried Atkins. And a few months later, I was the smallest I had ever been in my entire life...like a size 8...right bang on my healthy weight. To my credit, I stayed that way for 2 years. I was free.

Let me explain. All my grown-up life, I had been preoccupied by weight. Trying and failing to lose pounds. Constantly focusing on camouflaging the problem areas. Always wondering what people were thinking. Always comparing. Always wishing and longing.

But in those 2 years, I was seriously free. I started to enjoy shopping for clothes. My average size meant I could wear "almost" anything without fear of "looking fat". I could even wear flat shoes. Oh and high boots actually went up my calves! I could zip them up without going sock-less or lubing my legs with oil (not that I ever did the latter). Fashion suddenly became even more interesting. I was wearing make-up more, paying more attention to my hair and personal appearance. I was having sex with the lights on, parading around in my skivvies...oh the joy (primarily my husband's!)

I spent days on the beach with hot young bodies surrounding me and I didn't have to suck anything in, nor was I self-conscious. Ok, I still had a little bit of a stomach but NOTHING to complain about really. When my husband's camera went to snap a photo, I wasn't thinking, "Hold your arms out slightly to avoid the appearance of fat arms. Stick your neck out a bit so as to avoid double-chin. Suck in. Clench, etc." No more check-list! And then there were all the compliments from those who saw me when I was pregnant and the few months after. Those were nice.

I thought about normal things. All this space to just be happy being me. I was, like I said, free. But the free-est part was not worrying about food. I knew what I could eat. I ate it. I felt full. I didn't crave the bad stuff and somehow had mentally programmed myself not to "go there". For the first time in my life, I ate for pure nourishment. Not for comfort or out of boredom or to be social.

So exercise: I was out and about a lot. I walked everywhere. Nothing crazy. Just getting up and going and moving. At one point I had decided to focus on the little gut and began my own little exercise regime. This part is the brutal part for me.

And somehow, though I can't pinpoint exactly when, I started to revert back. And now, I'm out of control again and back in my self-imposed prison. I so desperately want to escape. I thought that maybe by sharing this story, here, in public, it would give me the kickstart I really need to get back on my path to freedom once again.

I have a bloggy friend, Hyacynth, who has two small boys and also happens find the time to own a Curves and help others achieve their fitness goals. Wish we lived closer because I would soooooo lug my expanding buttocks over there and beg her to whip me into shape. But alas, exercise-avoiding, carb enjoying me is sitting on my posterior writing instead of DOING. But maybe after THIS, that will change. Love, SJ

Goody it's Saturday

Food for thought. Why is it that one of the first questions people ask me about the new countries I frequent or reside is, "What's the food like?"

Montenegro was all meat, fish and potatoes. Rich and delicious and all natural. But every restaurant serves the same damn thing and it got so boring after a while. And they really have no concept of sauces over there. Meat is served as is.

Then we came to Sweden where it's also a lot of meat, fish and potatoes. But here it's all about the sauces. Everything's smothered in something it seems. And hey, I'm not complaining. Sure the food is highly processed, sprayed with God knows what and chemically enhanced but the sauce hides all that ickiness.

And then there's the candy. Every grocery store, corner store and even store, stores have rows and rows of candy. Sweet, sour, salty, chocolaty, hard, soft, sticky, crunchy C-A-N-D-Y. It's no wonder the Swedish word for candy is "Goodis". Swedes love their candy and you'd think they'd all be porkers for it. I guess all that bike-riding keeps the natives slim. Plus, there's a phenomena I've just discovered: Candy is bought and eaten ravenously on Saturdays.

On Saturday you see the kids of all ages lining up to fill their empty Goodis bags with candy from each of the rows of candy-filled buckets. They march to the check-out loaded down and pay whatever it is they charge per kilo. They rush home to fill their special candy bowls, also marked "Goodis" and pig out until it's all gone. Then the wait is on again...7 more sleeps till more Goodies.