Fall Has Arrived

It's already October. My mother always told me that the older you get, time goes by faster. How much do I hate admitting my mother was right. Fall in Maine is outstanding. It was always pretty in Wisconsin and Illinois, where I spent most of my life up until now. But you can't even compare it to what it's like here, even in my own yard. Of course the fact that we live on 22 acres in the woods makes my 'yard' a little more spectacular, but I do appreciate it a lot. A neighboring town was voted #2 for Fall Foliage. If you ask me it doesn't have anything on my little town .. or my little yard for that matter.

Neighboring Town Voted #2 for Fall Foliage

So finally FINALLY after weeks of plateauing I lost some poundage. The good news is that I lost weight. And since I had been staying the same for weeks on end I started keeping a food journal to make sure I was eating as little calories as I thought I was. I have a feeling I was going a little over but not a lot. I knew I had been sorta slacking on the exercising so I recommitted to that as well. The bad news is that Saturday and Sunday I couldn't get out of bed because I had a migraine. First one I ever had and hopefully the last. It included a trip to the ER because I considering shooting myself to take away the pain so I thought I would at least give some strong medicine a chance. If what they gave me is the best they can do for a migraine I am not impressed. I left there with the edge taken off and that was about it. Today Monday, I am home from work and I think using up my very last sick day until January 1st still trying to recover.

But on with the good news. Since Saturday and Sunday involved very little eating I was sure that I at least lost a pound. And since I was A+ on track the rest of the week that I wasn't sick I thought 2 pounds would be deserved . Since I lose weight at the pace of a snail asking for more than that would be greedy. Damn, another thing my mother always told me ... it's harder to lose weight as you get older. She was right again. So if you're young and reading this ... don't wait. You think it's hard now ... believe it....it gets harder.

And the wii fit said ... minus 5 pounds. Yes! Now minus 27 and counting...28 pounds to goal!

Forgiveness.

Well, I need to take a step away from my weight loss blog. I think you'll understand. But I do want to add that through it all I haven't gained a pound ... I haven't lost any either but I'm good with staying the same for the most part.

My dad passed away on September 2nd. One day after his birthday. He was 86 years old. I knew he wouldn't live forever ... but it's dad ... somehow I always expected he would just be there. His passing was a long process and he surely wasn't ready to let go. It was excruciating watching him suffer and fight a battle that could never be won. In the end, he passed while I talked to him and held his hand. It was sad and good all at the same time.

Today we went to Portland to pick up his cremation remains and went to lunch at an Irish Pub with my sister and her husband. We had a Guiness on the table for Dad ... we all took a drink and then made a toast to him with our own ... To Bob.

On the way to Portland I talked to Tim about forgiveness. Tim said forgiveness is about what's in your own head. You only have to 'forgive' someone if it makes you feel better, or in rare instances if someone is begging your forgiveness. I would say that I am typically not a forgiving person. I tend to hold a grudge. Not good but I'm working on it.  When I was talking to Dad, I told him I forgave him and I hoped he forgave me ... we had some issues though our time on this planet together and I wanted him to know that none of that mattered anymore, that he was my Dad and I loved him and it was all good.

And then he took his last breathe. I will always always always remember that last breathe. But in the days and now weeks after, everything I think about my Dad is good. I think because of forgiveness.

He wasn't a great father, but he was my father. 

That not only made him special - it made me special.

I love you Dad.

- Kimbaleigh

Robert Edward Kavanagh

1924 - 2010

McDonalds. On A Diet.

I get the same thing when I go to McDonalds. Two GRILLED chicken snack wraps, no sauce and a small diet coke. 380 calories and $4.26.

I pull into my local McDonalds, which I might add is the worst McDonalds on the planet; I am pleasantly surprised that there are no cars in the drive thru. To give you an idea of how slow they are, if it’s pouring rain or 22 below zero and there’s a line of cars, I will go inside to order, which is stupid because it never seems to be any quicker. I might as well sit in the car and listen to Jim Rome even if it’s  static-y  instead of standing in 1 line of too many people, sidestepping sticky coke or whatever it is that’s always spilled on the floor.

I pull up to the speaker and wait….wait some more … and some more .  At last, a voice, “One moment please”.  What the hell?  I already waited one moment and there’s not another car here? I think it’s common practice at all fast food drive thru’s, that once you are in the drive thru lane you are IN the drive thru lane. There’s no escaping. I am more or less a hostage.

Eventually the voice is back. ‘Welcome to McDonalds would you like to order a frappe or smoothie today?”  I ignore the questions, I have had ample time to figure out my order, which I already knew , and incidentally, I don’t want fries with my order either if that’s the next question (I do want them but I’m not having them).

Me:  Two grilled chicken snack wraps with no sauce (FYI no sauce is McDonaldspeak, I used to say ‘plain’ but have learned code is ‘no sauce’) and a small diet coke.

Me reading the Screen:  One chicken Snack Wrap. And then … nothing else…hello?

Me: Wondering if there’s anyone there …that’s TWO snack wraps.

Voice: What kind of sauce do you want? We have Ranch, BBQ and Honey Mustard.

Me in my Head:  Honey Mustard! I should get that! No you shouldn’t you said NO SAUCE, honey mustard is empty calories.

 Me to the Voice: No Sauce (with exasperation).  I’m pretty sure McDonalds should hold a seminar on how to listen and retain.

Voice: Did you want a fries or a drink with that?

Me:  (Saw that coming) Small diet coke.

Voice: What size diet coke?

Me: Small.

Voice: That will be $4.23.

I know it’s not $4.23 because it’s always $4.26 and because that’s what it said on the screen, $4.26. Whatever.

Amazingly paying wasn’t an issue and double amazingly, I pull up to the second window and my order was ready! That never EVER happens. And sidebar, whoever thought it was a good idea to put the straw in the bag instead of handing it to me with my drink is an asshole. When you hand me my drink and then make me wait for my ‘straw in the bag’ with my order, I suddenly get really thirsty and hate you a lot.

Window opens, bag out the window, handed my diet coke and holding a straw in her hand says “Is there a straw in your bag?”  I look because it’s the right thing to do instead of just driving off, and mostly because I really want a straw “Yes, there’s a straw, there’s actually two of them” I say as I hand the extra straw back to her to keep with my potential third straw.

Did I mention McDonalds is 10 minutes away? So you really want to check your order before you leave. That’s my excuse for eating in the car. Still in the parking lot, right turn signal on I suddenly think to myself, wait a minute, that went way to fast, I bet these are crispy chicken.  Pull one out and I notice there’s no white slip on it that I think indicates a ‘special GRILLED chicken’ order, unwrap and no surprise … crispy chicken. Left turn signal now on to renter the drive thru. Annoyed.

Of course now there are cars in the drive thru and I have to wait to re-order. I hate waiting. I get to the speaker:  “Welcome to McDonalds would you like to order a frappe or smoothie today?”    Then I see on the screen …2 chicken snack wraps …. in the middle of my disbelief I hear “Drive to the second window please”.  I would have driven to the second window, but I had to wait for the other cars. Annoyed. I get there, hand them my crispy bag, she hands me a bag and says “We got it right this time, and we put some fries in there for you too”.  Great because I want fries, but I don’t want them and I hate you. Willpower won and I did what I always do to food I don’t want to be tempted to eat, I poured some of my diet coke on them and ruined them. I win.

Alas, I am on my way back to work with my icy cold diet coke and my two grilled chicken snack wraps with no sauce and I know they are grilled because I saw the white ‘grill’ slip on them!  Unwrap,  take a bite and really?  Honey mustard.

Yo Mama

Since I am the queen of yo-yo dieting I am trying to remember the things that worked for me in the past to try and make this weight loss 'program' work.

Most important...set goals. Not I want to lose 100 pounds by my high school reunion. That can be your ultimate goal, but you have to take baby steps. For me it's the Decade Rule for setting goals. My friend Joann  and I used it quite successfully. It allowed us to share our weight loss information without, God forbid, divulging our actual tonnage. So if I weighed 172 and lost 3 pounds (like that would ever happen in a week but we're pretending here) that was extra good because you were now in the 160's instead of the 170's, in another 'decade' so to speak. Going into another lower decade is huge (bad choice of words) ... but to set 10 pounds as a goal is far too much so I go 5 pounds at a time in hopes that I will spend more time congratulating myself than being in disbelief that yet another week has passed and I have not met my goal.

Seriously, realize that this is basically the way you need to eat forever. If you go back to your old way of eating you will be fat. You can't graze, eat candy bars, mow on whatever and expect that it's not going to end up putting the pounds back on. Even if the scale isn't showing it 'this week' it will eventually catch up, first 2 pounds, then 4, and so on and so on until soon you're ripping thru your closet hoping you didn't get rid of every pair of fat pants cuz you can't hardly breath in the ones your in.

Only weigh yourself once a week. That's it. No more...no less. If you weigh yourself more than that you aren't getting a true reading because weight fluctuates daily. And if you're like me you will use the information on the scale to either go, "Yes! I lost 2 pounds! I can have cheesecake!" or the other scenario "WTF? Are you kidding me? That's crap I might as well eat cheesecake since this isn't working". If you weigh yourself less than that you can pretend that the twinkies don't count because last time you weighed yourself you were the same ... except last time was 2 dress sizes ago.

When I started this diet my first goal was to lose 21 pounds which is when I started this blog. That was a big number to shoot for but it was the lowest weight I was at since I moved to Maine four years ago. So now that I have reached that my next goal is a very important 'decade' goal and it's only 5 more pounds away. Easy right?

Well today is Monday, my weigh day. I lost half a pound. That's it. I am minus 22.5. That equals a eight loss of 1.5 pounds in how many weeks? I've had the gain week, for no reason I know of, the back down week that should have been back down and then some, then the stay the same weeks. Am I ever going to lose a whole number? I did the math ... at the rate of one half stinking pound per week, I will achieve my goal in 14 months or on October 31, 2011. Did you get that? Two Thousand Eleven. It's not even October 2010, we're talking a little over 30 pounds. People loose over a hundred in a year!

Well I guess I will quit my bitching, be happy I didn't gain weight and go eat my zucchini.

 

 

I have a love/hate relationship with Sundays. Mostly love, because let's face it, it's a day not at work. But around 6PM at night the sinking feeling of all the fun being over starts to seep in. I've had that feeling ever since I can remember. And thanks to that damn ticking clock on sixty minutes I always knew when it was 6PM and the day was pretty much over. 

When I was young bed time on a school night was 8:30PM, funny that was the single rule we had in our house, we HAD a bedtime. Not surprising, no doubt my mother couldn't wait to get rid of us so to speak. Anyway, 6:00 was so close to bedtime and Sundays were always bath night. After that off too bed and then voila! Monday morning and time for school. I wasn't a big fan of school until high school when I had my 'group' of friends and suddenly boys liked me.

Sundays now for me are the day before WEIGH IN day. Which means I have to be extra extra good. Which is kind of odd since I am pretty much always 'good'. Every once in a while, and I mean once in a while, I have something not low calorie. But on the weekends, and particularly Sunday I am ultra conscious of getting on the scale the next day. Even though I have pretty much been sticking to being 'good', it doesn't always show on the scale. I can't tell you how unbelievably frustrating that is. For anybody who doesn't believe it, let me assure you that is it waaaay harder to lose weight the older you get. 

If I don't gain weight I am content. Well, for a minute I go thru the wtf! stage but then realizing that gets me nowhere I just stay content knowing that another week will fly by and that week will be the one that makes the difference. My goal is one stinking pound a week. And sometimes I can't even get that. 

I have high hopes for tomorrow. I've had 2 weeks in a row staying the same. Last week I went to the gym 3 days and this weekend I worked outside both Saturday and Sunday and stayed in the 1600 calorie range every single day this week. If I had to grade myself I would give myself an A. We'll see ... still minus 21 and counting today, Sunday.

Plus Size!

I can’t count the number of times that I have gained and lost weight; gained and lost weight; gained and … you get it. Each time I embark on the weight loss adventure I promise that (1) I will keep going until I reach my goal and (2) I won’t ever gain weight again because it’s sooo hard to lose it. Obviously I have failed at both.

I’m just gonna say it … I am going to lose 55 pounds and not gain it back … ever. She says while praying to the Fat Gods...but we won’t get into my views on prayer, darn I can’t help myself … if prayer worked so great I would be tall, thin and blond and not only that, I would always be able to locate my keys.

I am now minus 21 pounds. I have 34 pounds left to lose. After 21 pounds of lard removed from my body people are starting to notice. Everyone says after they lose 10 pounds they go down a size. Hello, 20 pounds later I have dropped a (read one) size, not 2. Although to be honest I have never been a slave to the number on my clothing tag. If I were, I probably wouldn’t be wearing clothes with a number in double digits. I don’t think in my adult life that I have ever been less than a size 10…ever. Damn those Kavanagh big bones!

For me the ‘horrification’ seeps in when I become cognizant that I actually buy my clothes in the PLUS size section. Really? Plus size? Ugh. Let me relate it to you this way. A certain young lady (Christine) was shopping with her father in the Plus size section (can you feel me suppressing snide ex-wife comments) when she had just learned how to read. Maybe it was her reading ability, or maybe she was just attentive to her surroundings? It could have been the miles of fabric draped from hangers or seeing women who were waaay beyond anything pleasantly plump (as if there is such a thing) squeezing through the aisles that prompted the question. In any case,the story is that little Christine, at the top of her lungs yelled, “Does Plus size mean FAT daddy?” From what I understand 'daddy' was mortified at the volume that these words possessed. And after quieting Christine down he did his best to explain how that was offensive. This coming from the man who suggested to me the other day that the gym called 'Curves' would me more appropriately named if it were called "Rolls".

Just in case anyone is wondering, let me put your mind at ease ... I assure you that yes indeed, 'Plus Size' means fat!