Losing It! An Urban Mom's Weight Loss Blog

Emotional Hunger

I was on the phone with a friend this morning, having one of those rambling chats we're so prone to: a little bit of this, a little bit of that, a conversation buffet. And during the course of our phone call, I said something like this: "well you're not over eating anymore, but..." and she interjected with, "oh, but I am overeating. I'm not happy right now, and I overeat when I'm unhappy. When I feel happy, I don't feel hungry."

And it was like a bell went off in my own head. It's not like I didn't already know that I have a predilection to overeating when the chips are down. Hello: duh! But it was that phrase: When I feel happy, I don't feel hungry. That equation of hungry with an emotion: happiness. Or, more aptly, unhappiness.

Now again, hello: duh! Of course I am not new to the idea of emotional eating in general or eating because of unhappiness in particular, but I had never heard and digested those words in that way before. What I'm talking about here is not a physical sensation being caused by an emotion (as in: I feel sad therefore I will eat to feel better), or even the confusion of an emotion and a physical sensation (as in: I feel an emotion that fools me into thinking I'm hungry). What I'm talking about here is the absolute equation of the two. I'm talking about hunger as emotion.

And as much as I've wrestled with emotional eating, I don't think I've ever really addressed hunger: the emotion. Until recently. I'm hungry for so many things these days: for answers, for reassurance, for knowledge, for health, for stalwart, unstinting support and understanding. I'm hungry for things that aren't even on the menu. I'm hungry to defy disease and even death.

But here's one thing I know for certain: I won't find the things I'm hungry for at the bottom of a bag of chips or a box of cookies. I won't find them in second helpings of cous-cous, either, or even in a shot of Baileys (although that is by far the most pleasant place to look).

No, I think I'm going to have to look elsewhere for the things I'm hungry for right now.

Oh, I'm Losing It, All Right!

First things first: I lost 0.6 pounds last week, which puts me under 180 lbs, which is where I wanted to be. Well, if you want to get technical, I weigh 179.6 which would actually be 180 if you were rounding up, but I (and Weight Watchers, incidentally) am not, so there.

So, whew, that's just over 7 down, 15 more to go until I get to my goal. Yay, me!

But speaking of Losing It, can we talk about my daughter's eighth birthday party yesterday? I should tell you first off that it was a great success, in that all the kids had a great time. Yay, me!

I'd love to post some pictures of the party, but I seem to have lost! (OMG, NO!) my camera's USB cable. I have one that looks right, but just doesn't fit. And when I looked for a logo or brand name on it somewhere, all I found was "28AWG SPACE SHUTTLE" written all over it. Space Shuttle? Is it just me, or is that a weird phrase to find on a USB cable?

That being said, however: Oh. My. God. Fourteen kids for two-and-a-half hours is a GARGANTUAN undertaking. Now I know, I know -- I used to be a teacher. I regularly managed classes of 30+ kids with no trouble (or mostly no trouble, anyway). But put them in your home, add cake and juice and chips and string the letters P-A-R-T and Y together and it spells TROUBLE (well, we both know very well it spells 'party', but you know what I'm getting at).

Once the whole thing was over I literally collapsed into a chair and ate leftover Hallowe'en candy for dinner. Honestly, the Hubster and I were asleep - ASLEEP! - at 9:30 pm, and that's after switching back to standard time!

Oh, and you should know that we didn't even do the whole darn party. We had a magician for the first hour or so. Although even that was stressful because two of the guests were significantly (as in more than 30 minutes) late, so I asked the magician to wait a bit to start, but he was impatient to get going, so we started without 2 of the guests. So I had to keep listening for the doorbell and running off upstairs to collect the tardy ones. And one of the little tykes kept calling out after every trick the magician did, saying, "I know how you did that!" And even though she didn't, it still seemed to faze him a little bit, and he'd give this nervous giggle and everyone felt awkward. Personally I was silently rooting for him to retort, "you do? Well come on up here and show the other kids...I bet they'd love to learn how to do a magic trick!" But to his great credit he didn't, and in the end, I just put my hand on her head gently and said, "let's just watch the show and enjoy it," because I've known her since she was in diapers and I really do love this little girl, just not at that moment. No, not at that moment.

And then there were the games: freeze dance and soccer and four-kids-on-the-trampoline (yes, that dangerous game that kids love and orthopedic surgeons hate) and the noise, oh the noise, oh the noise, noise, noise, NOISE! (She says in her best Grinchy voice.) Another little girl whom I've known for years and whom I also dearly love, well, she was so darn loud that I nearly clamped my hand over her mouth. It's just that she wanted to talk to me all the time. She had to give me a running commentary on what all the other guests were doing, with frequent inquiries as to whether their specific activities were permitted or forbidden (forbidden; I think she secretly hoped). She also wanted to RUN THE PARTY. "Can I press the button for the music for freeze dance? Can I tie on the blindfolds and say go for the games? Can I tell the other kids when it's time for cake? Can I hand out the presents?" How about this kiddo: can you keep your mouth shut for more than a nanosecond? But of course, I didn't say that out loud, either. No I did not. I calmly breathed and doled her out some responsibility to let her know I heard her, and asked her, very nicely, not to scream please, because it might frighten the guinea pig.

And then my daughter -- paragon of ungratefulness as all eight-year olds are at their own birthday parties -- had to be forcibly reminded to thank her guests for coming and for their lovely gifts. Thirteen reminders to put the presents down now and say thank-you to your guest. Thirteen! You'd think she might have picked it up after the second or third or oh, let's say TENTH! reminder. Sheesh...talk about being a proud parent.

And you just know that one of the parents was 15 minutes late, and then the guest ran off and hid and the parents were all: 'hee hee, isn't that cute...she wants to stay' and I was all: 'get your f***ing kid out of my f***ing house now!' only I didn't say it out loud.

Oh! And then there was the guest who tried to walk out with one of my daughter's presents - the bat Webkinz, no less. That was a fun one!

And one of the moms congratulated me on having the party at our house, because she so dislikes how all birthday parties these days seem to be big events planned elsewhere. And I felt like such a freakin' hero. And I'm ready to put down a deposit on next year's party: anywhere but here!

Down 3.6!

Yeah Baby!

I might have gained 1.6 pounds during my spectacular Mediterranean Cruise, but last week I took off that 1.6 plus two more for good measure! I am down 3.6 pounds this week, which brings me to 180.2 - next weigh-in I will be back in the 170s fo sho!

Oh yeah, oh yeah...(excuse me while I indulge in a little happy-dance, here).

Yes, I am proud of myself. Yes, I am happy to be in a good weight-loss groove. And yes: as before, it seems almost effortless. But this time, I am more experienced. I am not taking anything for granted. I will not gloat. I will not rest on my laurels. I will be utterly, completely, undyingly grateful for every last tenth of a pound that I manage to get rid of.

That message was brought home to me (and Hubster, my silent partner in this journey) at our last Weight Watchers meeting. One of the newer members asked our leader what she could do to get out of a rut...of course the suggestions were what you would expect: are you still journaling? No? Well do that again. Are you eating all your points (including discretionary points)? No? Well make sure you do. Are you keeping active? No? Well get moving.

You get the idea.

The chorus of suggestions went on for so long that our leader finally had to cut it short and get on to the rest of the business of the meeting, but on the way home Hubby and I both agreed that the number one advantage the lady who asked the question had was this: she was still coming to meetings. I wanted so badly to put up my hand and say,

"Please...just keep coming to the meeting. Even if you gain a pound or three or even ten...just keep coming and remember that this is the one place where you won't be judged. You see, I lost 50 pounds once, but then I got stuck and had trouble losing any more. And that got me discouraged. And that caused me to gain some weight. And that got me embarrassed. And then I stopped coming to meetings. And now I'm here again, because I gained back nearly 30 of those hard fought-for 50 pounds. So whatever you do: don't stop coming to meetings."

So, my fellow Weight Watchers member: if you're out there anywhere, I hope you get to read this.

Headstand, Anyone?

As you may or may not know, I love my yoga.

Now I go to class twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. The Tuesday class is a small, workshop-like setting, and the Thursday class is a larger group. This afternoon, I was the only one there for the first half-hour of the workshop - a private class! And we worked on headstands: yes, you read that right, headstands are not just for ten year-olds anymore!

My yoga instructor just got back from a retreat at the Salt Spring Island Centre of Yoga, and he had a few new tricks up his sleeve. One of those was a new way of getting into a headstand: instead of scissoring your legs straight up with a kick, you sort of lever them up bent...as if you're squatting upside down...then you slowly straighten your legs - like this:

It was great to have a new approach to this pose that I've been working on for a year now! Okay, I'll come clean...it wasn't just a new approach, but rather a new challenge. Let's just say I'll have to be working a little bit more on my core strength before I master this one! But that's what I love most about yoga - I can challenge myself in new ways even with the most familiar of poses or flows.

For example, our workshop group has been working on flowing smoothly into downward dog from cobra in our A series sun salutations. So instead of just popping up and repositioning our hands and feet to get into a good downward dog, we work to get the foot positioning just right in one step before we lift our hips up in one smooth movement. And then there's the fine-tuning in all the familiar poses: perfect hip and arm alignment in warrior one, hitting 100% hip and shoulder rotation in triangle. And pressing for just that centimetre more in all the stretches...month-by-month it all adds up, and one day you find yourself doing a full lotus and the sense of achievement is so worthwhile.

And for all you non-yoginis out there, that last paragraph just sounded all Charlie Brown, right? "Mwah, mwah, mwah mwah-wah..."

Anyway, the point is, I love yoga. I get such a sense of accomplishment and well-being from my practice, and I miss it when I can't go to class. Which is so weird, because I'm essentially pretty physically lazy. Give me a choice between exercise and sloth, and I'll usually pick sloth. (And before anybody tries to suggest that yoga is anything like sloth - try it first! It ain't easy: it requires great physical and mental discipline.) I've joined at least a half-dozen gyms that I never went to, took up and then gave up running, and barely ride my bike at all. But there's something about yoga that's got me hooked. If someone could find a way to shoe-horn another 90 minutes into my week, I'd sign up for a third class.

And so now I've turned into one of those people who always kind of bugged me...someone who signs off online by saying:

Namaste

Okay, so...

I went to Weight Watchers this morning. For the first time in - oh - three weeks. Yeah.

During those missed weeks? Well, I traveled to Europe for 12 days, seven of which I spent on a CRUISE SHIP in the Mediterranean. And three days in Italy, home of amazing food and wine.

And I didn't track a damn bite, the whole time.

So...how'd I do?

I did gain weight. But not too much. Just 1.6 pounds.

So overall, I'm still down 2.8 (which is nice, I'd hate to think I threw out all that money, plus two weeks of hard work).

Final analysis? I'm happy with that. I'm back on program, journaling in my tracker and ready to lose those 1.6 (well, well-earned) pounds again.

In my absence, my hubby managed to keep losing, and he's down 16 pounds overall now. I'm so proud.

Yo-Yo, See-Saw...Call it What You Like: I'm Along for the Ride

If you've been following my progress for a while, you'll know that I originally lost fifty pounds. Then I sort of evened out, and found a good groove. Then, slowly, more and more came creeping back. Until I was back up to 188 and really needed to drop a good twenty pounds.

And so I re-joined Weight Watchers, and started to lose again.

And then I went to Europe for two weeks with my family. And gained back most of the weight I'd just spent several weeks losing.

So the Hubster and I re-re-(re?)-joined Weight Watchers, and week one went really quite well. Can I just say how impossibly EASIER it is to do this whole weight loss thing with someone else? Especially when that someone else is the person you live with and eat almost every meal with?

Well it is. So impossibly easier that it's basically impossible otherwise. In any event, yesterday was our first week weigh in, and we did well. Really well! I lost 4.4 pounds and Hubster lost 7.6 pounds. Of course, he is a man, and he exercised like a maniac all week long, whereas I just walked the kids to and from school and took two yoga classes. But hey, that's more my speed, anyway. And there you have it...I am down, now to 182.

And I'm very, very happy with my 4.4 lb loss. I hope to add another pound (at least) to that during this week but, heaven help me, I leave for a Mediterranean cruise on Friday morning.

I KNOW!!! How lucky am I? Let's tally up this, my year of European travel:

APRIL: a week, on my OWN! of pure, unadulterated by myself, all growed up FUN with my sis and her fiancé, super-hosts extraordinaire in London, England. With no husband and no kids I did exactly what I wanted. All day. Every day. Except the last day, when I boarded the plane to come home, instead of hiding under the bed in my sister's guest room and staying in England forever!

SEPTEMBER: two weeks of super-amazing-excellent family fun and daily learning opportunities in London, Tallinn and Helsinki. Not one of us was even nearly ready to come home when it was all over. No, not one little bit.

OCTOBER: 11 days of European traipsing, with a girlfriend, on a cruise ship. Here's the list of ports of call: Barcelona, Malta, Naples, Rome, Florence, Nice, Barcelona. Then we pop over to England for two more days before returning home.

CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT????

So, the only fly in the ointment is, of course, that cruises are notorious for being the absolute number one way to gain weight on a vacation. But here's the other thing: I don't want to spend my vacation counting points, either. I want to enjoy it, I want to experience it, I want to LIVE it. I want to try Spanish and Italian and French cuisine in their natural habitat, and I don't want to feel guilty about it. And the girlfriend that I'm going with just really, really needs a great, fun, carefree vacation, 'cause she's been having a hell of a year, and I plan to make sure she does. And saying 'no' to parmesan cheese is NOT a good way to be carefree. No it's not.

So, it's count, count, count and journal, journal, journal until Friday, and then we'll be drinking our way across the Atlantic Ocean, and hopefully the fine Spanish, Italian and French wine won't cause an adverse reaction with the Gravol (we're both notoriously seasick).

So look for more from me over the next two weeks as I say ¡Buen apetito!; Buon appetito! and Bon appétit! every day.

Very, Very Veggie

My little sister is a vegetarian. A full-on, doesn't eat any meat, doesn't eat any foods made with meat or meat products vegetarian.

Once, six years ago, I was a vegetarian, too. For six months.

Really!

For six months I didn't eat any meat or anything related to meat. Well, okay, I did eat cheese and eggs, which officially made me a lacto- ovo-vegetarian. But I didn't eat any chicken, turkey, beef, pork, ham...hot dogs (do they count as meat, anyway?). Heck, I didn't even eat Oreos, for the love of Pete. (They're made with lard, in case you were wondering.)

And then, on Boxing Day 2002, I wanted a hamburger. I really, really wanted a hamburger. A juicy, tasty beef patty, with melting cheddar on top and a crispy dill pickle on a warm, soft kaiser bun.

How good does that sound?

But where do you find such a beast on December 27, and in Calgary, which is well-known for its dearth of good burger places (believe me...we've tried them all)? Nowhere. So I had a Whopper.

Which was a really big let-down.

Ever since then I've sorta regretted it, that Whopper. In the ensuing years I've probably had a dozen or more Whoppers, and each time I've thought, "Gee. That's the burger that broke my vegetarian streak." It's not that I think there's anything intrinsically wrong with eating meat, or with Whoppers, even. It's just that I took it as a point of pride, my vegetarianism. I sought out new, healthy recipes. I fed my family well. Very well. I had a toddler whose first finger-food was brown rice and curried lentils, for goodness sake! We even nick-named her Broccoli because she loved the stuff so much!

So, where's this going? Am I out here announcing my renewed veggie-exclusivity?

No.

Well, not really, anyway. But interestingly, while in the UK recently visiting said vegetarian sister, I read an article about the high environmental cost of the "typical North American diet". The article pointed out that the biggest contributor to this environmental impact is beef. Not only are they big and costly to feed, cows are also major contributors to greenhouse gases (high levels of methane in bovine farts, apparently). The largest positive impact one could have, according to the article, would be to give up red meat. My hubby read the same article and mentioned it to me.

So we agreed to try it. So far this week we've tried polenta (for the first time, but not the last...yum), spicy beans with mango salsa and saffron rice. I also roasted a spaghetti squash (that stuff is so yummy) and baked carrot muffins. For dinner this evening I made the kids piggies in a blanket, with whole wheat Pillsbury crescent rolls and Yves veggie hot dogs. They loved em!

So far so good!

My Estonian Stone

A stone (in Britain) is equivalent to 14 pounds, and I think that's what I've gained during my week in Estonia. (No pun intended: acknowledged, but not intended).

There seem to be a lot of reasons why:

We're eating out in restaurants for every single meal.
'Nuff said. Eating out isn't known to be conducive to healthy or even reasonable eating.

Most of the restaurants we've gone to serve traditional Estonian food.
Not that there isn't a lot to recommend traditional Estonian food in terms of healthiness, but there is a lot of fish involved (they even put herring in the potato salad, for the love of Pete!) and I don't like fish. In one restaurant, there was literally ONE THING on the menu that didn't involve fish or mushrooms: the two foods that I will never, NEVER eat. And that one thing was a breaded and fried chicken cutlet.

Salad is not the same in Europe as it is in North America.
Salad, in Europe (at least in the parts I've been to) seems to just mean a dish that has had a piece of lettuce waved over it at some point. Here in Estonia, they all seem to involve either herring, tuna, salmon (see above re: my feelings for fish) or chicken. In one restaurant, I ordered the "green salad". It had 3 pieces of shredded lettuce, a tomato cut in wedges, half a cucumber (sliced), two hard-boiled eggs, and was topped with a cup of cottage cheese and creamy dill dressing.

Wine has figured heavily at dinner-time.
It was fun the first two nights...it felt a little naughty and oh, so  Euro and vacation-esque to indulge in a couple of glasses of wine during dinner. But MAN. I hate drinking calories. It just seems like such a waste. And if I thought it was hard to speak Estonian while sober, well, let's just say that this is not a language improved by a bit of tongue-loosening. No, not one bit.

I have not been working in the fields like 17th century Estonian farmers.
But during our family's visit to Rocca Al Mare (an outdoor museum featuring traditional Estonian farms from the middle ages onwards) we ate traditional Estonian meatballs. Can you say delish? We all ate them with great relish (not the condiment) but they were meant to refuel the human threshing machines that these farmers were, not the city-dwelling, cab-riding sloths of the 21st century.

The potatoes were super-yum too.

I think I'll have to walk back to England in order to work off some of this!

On The Road Again

Whew. It's been quite a whirlwind since I last posted!

Days of packing, preparing and -- yikes! -- remembering to find someone to look after the cat for two weeks! And then the insanity of our airline going out of business two days before our flight! Yes, we were booked on Zoom Airlines, and we found out last Thursday that they had gone bankrupt and we were going to be quite far up the creek without any paddles if Lady Luck wasn't on our side.

As it happens, she was on our side. We had quite an adventure making alternative arrangements, but we resolved it in the end, and flew out on Saturday night with British Airways. In the end, as I said to the Hubster, I'm kinda glad Zoom went out of business, because we got such superb service from BA! Somehow, though, we ended up with a fourth meal on Saturday. Our flight left at 9:50 pm, and sometime around 11:30 the lovely cabin crew served up a hot dinner. It was delicious, but definitely unnecessary after the pizza we'd had at 6:30 pm before heading to the airport. And then sure enough, a few hours later, a lovely breakfast of yogurt, muffin, juice and fruit arrived.

So we're certainly not starving!

Anyway, we had a great two days in London - a whirlwind of sight-seeing involving just about every form of transportation the city has to offer: train, tube, double-decker bus and Thames riverboat. Right from our lucky switch to British Airways, though this trip has been charmed: I even found a 10 pound note right on the ground in the middle of Hyde Park!

But now we're in Tallinn, in our hotel, and I don't even know what time it is (actually it's 2:12 am local time and we have to be at breakfast at 8:30). And even though something like 79% of this country is covered by wifi networks, evidently the one I'm connected to is not a FAST one, so I'm going to hit "publish", hope for the best and touch base with you all again in a few days.

Flirting With Eating Disorders

This morning I woke up in agony.

The pain from the headache actually woke me up from sleep. And it was one of those near-migraine skull pounders that throbs with every breath you take, where even the thud of your own life-giving heartbeat brings a fresh explosion of pain. With each throb I thought my eyeballs might explode. The pain actually made me nauseous.

Eventually I was able to get myself to the bathroom (3 steps away) for two Advil (couldn't find the Aleve, damn it!). After about another hour of restless sleep, that took the edge off enough for me to stumble downstairs to the secondary medicine cabinet where I consumed the last 2 Tylenol ULTRA RELIEF. Within another half hour, I felt like a human being again.

When I was getting ready for breakfast, I asked my husband if he wanted an Isagenix shake with me. He said, "no, I'm cleansing today."

ME: Oh, okay, great idea! I'll cleanse too!

HIM: No. You won't. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Why do you think you have such a bad headache? You're going to eat something. You're one step away from bulimia. Drink that shake now.

Sheepishly I made the shake. And ate a hearty avocado-tomato-arugula-spinach salad for lunch, liberally dressed with olive oil & balsamic vinegar.

Because my husband is right. I have been cleansing (the days in the Isagenix program where you eat no food but drink a natural, gentle cleansing drink and take nutritional supplements) waaaay too much lately. Much more than the recommended two days at a time with at least 5 days of healthy eating (of actual food, that is) in between.

This morning I realized that I've spent the last weeks treating Isagenix as a binge-and-purge system. We've had out-of-town visitors here, and they kindly took us out for several meals, in a "less work for you" spirit. Which is true, I guess, except it is pretty much IMPOSSIBLE to find food that is nutritionally decent at a restaurant. It really is. You either get two whole chicken breasts (which is about 3X more than any one adult needs) and 1/2 cup of vegetables or else everything is fried or covered in a creamy dressing. Restaurants are horribly unhealthy: from the portion size to the ingredients to the method of cooking. And when you have 2 kids to consider, you end up at places like Boston Pizza or -gasp- Denny's.

Of course I could've said no. But I didn't. Probably part of me was grateful not to have to cook and clean up for 2 extra adults. Probably part of me wanted bad old restaurant food.

So what did I do? I binged on eating out, and made up for it by cleansing. For days.

And I think I just hit the wall this morning. And it scared me. It's just that it was so easy to slip into it - and let me point out here that this is IN NO WAY THE RECOMMENDED METHOD for following the Isagenix program. The real program is actually VERY healthy and encourages mild, periodic cleansing interspersed with periods of very healthy, well-balanced meals, focusing on fresh, raw vegetables, lean meats, essential oils and whole grains.

It's just that, once you do it a few times, cleansing actually feels good. You don't get the hungry feeling anymore. You lose your cravings - you feel free of that constant. hellish. hold. that food has over your mind. You're like an empty vessel. And it's a bit addicting, that feeling is. But the fact that I didn't even notice myself using cleansing as a do-over for the restaurant meals, or that I didn't see the cycle of binge-purge-binge-purge developing is spooky.

On the other hand, it's good to know I've got someone who cares enough to be looking out for me!

Thanks Hubster.

Weebles Wobble...

...but they don't fall down!

Remember that commercial? Well, that's a little like how I feel when I go for my daily (or twice daily, if I'm really, really lucky) "wobble" on the Proellixe machines at Sublime Healing. I can't explain exactly what the feeling is like, or why it feels so darn good. I guess the nearest I can come is to say is that it must be similar to babies being jostled in the arms of an adult...that head-to-toe wobble just makes you feel - NICE.

Check out this video of a woman using a similar Whole Body Vibration machine, the VibraSlim:

And then go see the promotional video for the brand I use, Proellixe. Really, you do want to click the link. It's so darn entertaining!

Oh and, in case you were wondering, that's NOT me in the video.

I'm much better looking!

big *WINK*

New York, New York!

At first, all I could think about was Homer Simpson's trip to New York? Do you remember it? Well, if not, you can always click here to link to the full episode. Yes, I did try to get you a clip, but believe it or not I couldn't find one (and trust me, I looked. I spent the better part of 90 minutes looking!)

Anyway, the point is that I went to New York myself on Sunday. Yeah, yeah...it wasn't THAT big of a deal...I'd been before after all. I wasn't afraid to ride the subway or walk the streets or anything (I did both -- and at NIGHT! -- this trip). I WAS afraid that I would come across VERY provincial. I have been living in this backwater of a town for nearly a decade now, and I thought that most of the gloss of my city-slicker youth would have worn off to the point that I'd feel really, really out of place in the Big Apple. Afraid that I'd feel like a big, fat, nearly-40 mom-of-two, suburban slob.

I may have looked it, coming off the New Jersey commuter train at Penn Station, walking out through the lobby of Madison Square Garden and over to 34th Street, in my sweaty Lululemons and running shoes, towing a rolling carry-on bag and toting a new faux lizard-skin handbag.

See? I stood there all goofy like any other tourist and took a picture of the sign.

So why was I in New York, you ask (and, more importantly, why am I home again so soon)? Well, Jen and I headed out to the city that never sleeps (and it doesn't, and isn't that wonderful? So unlike stuffy Calgary where they roll up the sidewalks at 6:01pm) for a Monday meeting with the support team at SixApart (awesome creators of TypePad, the platform you're reading this on right now) in their uber-cool BOHO-esque office in Soho.

We both arrived Sunday and headed out on foot to explore the neighbourhood and found a fun place to have dinner. My asian-inspired steak salad was SUPERB, heavily endowed as it was with avocado, mango, peanuts and cilantro. Here's Jen at dinner:

And me sitting opposite enjoying my (3rd? 4th?) glass of wine:

We had a fun dinner, and then walked a little bit more around the 'hood. There is just something magical about a city where the flower merchants are still open at 12:30 a.m. - it was so fragrant! So colourful! So vibrant!

We grabbed a bagel (a real, New York bagel) for brekkie in a little hole-in-the-wall deli (I learned that much of Soho consists of charming little hole-in-the-wall places) next to our hotel, grabbed a coffee in Starbucks and grabbed a cab to our meeting.

I am really a city girl at heart.

The meeting was excellent, and we were treated to fare from the local bakery on our arrival (GAWD, I could smell the raisin bread baking all day long...droool...), handmade espresso and order-in deli sandwiches for lunch. When 4:00 was approaching, we headed back out to the streets to hoof it to the subway, thence to the New Jersey commuter train, and transfered to the Air Train at Newark Liberty International Airport all the while impatiently tapping our toes and watching the minutes tick by far too quickly as my 6:00 WestJet flight approached. Once at the airport it was a sprint to the gate, budding in line at security ("excuse me, my flight is boarding in a few minutes, can I go in front of you?") and another sprint over to the gate. I made it, just as they were paging me to come to the desk!

Jen, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Her 7:00 pm flight was canceled, and she was put on a 9:30 pm flight. After waiting 4 hours at the airport, Air Canada advised passengers that the 9:30 flight was also canceled. Another night in New York (well, okay Newark...not nearly as cool!)

Long Weekend: Fat Weekend

We had a really nice family trip this long weekend. We drove up to Edmonton to stay with friends, and we managed to cram a whole bunch of really fun activities in. We visited a few new places on our way north from Calgary, checking out downtown Red Deer and stopping for a super-yummy ice cream at a quaint antique country store in Leduc. We spent hours browsing the stalls at the St. Albert Farmer's Market, and the kids picked up a few handmade treasures with their allowance. Also purchased were a dozen homemade cookies served out of rubbermaid bins - yum! We also took a bike ride, a trip on Edmonton's heritage trolley, a stroll down famous Whyte Ave in Edmonton's Old Strathcona district and stopped for mini-donuts at the gorgeous Old Strathcona Farmer's Market. What else? Oh, just a few hours at World Waterpark in West Edmonton Mall, a trip to the movies for mom & her bud (btw, Mama Mia was FAB) and more of the local cuisine in the form of Donair Pizza and Wok Box specialties like butter chicken, teriyaki chicken and wor wonton soup.

Do you see the theme? Food, food and more food. And that's not including the car snacks (chips, anyone?) Although I will give myself credit for ixnaying the timbits when the Hubster suggested coffee at Tim's (I grabbed two solo javas at Starbucks instead) and resisting McDonald's on the way home (the rest of the fam indulged, though).

But despite my two minor victories, all-in-all it was a gainer of a weekend, and I'm in major recovery mode now. So what's my weight-loss strategy between now and Weight Watchers weigh-in tomorrow evening at 5:00 pm? Two sessions on the proellixe (one down, one to go), some heavy-duty cardio (looks like an hour on the stationary bike) and a two-day Isagenix cleanse. The cleanse has worked before (to the tune of 5+ pounds) so I'm hangin' my hopes on that one!

Check back with me on Thursday to see if I manage to pull it off...at this point, I'll be happy not to gain as of Wednesday.

Oh, and huge props to my friend C (you know who you are) who hit her goal weight this week! Woohoo! You rock!

A Banner Week!

Just a short update to let you all know that

I LOST TWO POUNDS LAST WEEK!

Woohoo! Yeah! I was thrilled to see that loss, as it had been a bit of a shaky week and I knew I had lost some weight, just not how much. But two pounds down is a great week, especially after a 0.8 gain last week. (BTW, thanks Laura for predicting a 2lb loss - you're my good luck charm!)

So now I'm down a total of 7.2 pounds, which is great progress for three weeks! And, it also represents a little more than 25% of my overall weight loss goal. Which makes me say:

YEAH, BABY!

I'll let ya in on a little secret...at my week 2 Weight Watchers meeting (this time 'round) I bought a set of 12 tickets. That means that I pre-paid for 12 weekly meetings (you get a minor discount if you do this). I did it in the (secret) hope that I would be at my goal by the time I used the 12th ticket. I'll tell you, it's going to be tight, since I wanted to lose 23 pounds all together (so, do the math...pretty much 2 pounds per week) but I'm all about the lofty goals, so what the hell!

...Laura? Here's where you step in and say "hoping for 4 pounds for you this week, Kath!"

Well, Knock Me Over With a Feather

Because I'm stunned that this thing actually works!

It's a whole body vibration machine. I know, I know, you're seeing visions of housewives in the 30s with those belts strapped around their hips.

Well, we all know those didn't work. And honestly, that's what I thought when an old friend of mine suggested I come by her clinic to try her new Proellixe machines. That was over a year ago. But then another good friend of mine started using them daily, and has noticed major results in just a few weeks. I decided I would give it a go, and dropped by this morning for my first session.

And if first impressions are anything to go by (well, I also did a fair bit of online research, reading positive reviews in well-respected places like Reuters, The Times Online, Bandolier and the British Journal of Sports Medicine) then I am sold.

It's a strangely intense sensation, with this plate vibrating madly under your feet (or your hands...I was in a plank position with my hands on the plate for two incredibly long and difficult minutes). You really do feel your whole body vibrating as the muscles are forced to contract at a much higher rate than normal. In fact, when you stand on a vibrating Proellixe (or similar machine), your muscles are working at 95% efficiency. Stack that up against the standard 40% efficiency you get in a traditional resistance training workout and I begin to wonder why I don't just buy one for my TV room!

And that's just part of the magic of whole-body vibration. You stand on the machine (striking various poses from squats to pushups to lunges and more) for no more than 10 minutes at a time (finally a workout I can fit into my busy day!), and you get the equivalent of 100 crunches, or an hour-long weight training workout. Oh, and did I mention there's no sweating involved (except I did get a bit dewy during the 2-minute upper-body workout).

Some of the other seemingly magical effects are the boost to the lymphatic system (also known as the body's second circulatory system, the lymphatic system has no heart to pump it, but relies on our body's own motion to move lymph through the body), reduction in cortisol (stress hormones) and increased production of endorphins (feel-good hormones). I tell ya, I was on a good-mood high for a good three hours after my first session.

Now, one thing you need to be aware of before you begin thinking this is some kind of magic bullet: whole body vibration makes no claims to be a replacement for cardio-vascular exercise (darn it, that's my least favourite kind!), so you'll still have to get out there and sweat to the oldies at least three times a week. Old school. Rats!

But anyway, sweating aside (I'm still going to strap on the iPod and bounce on our trampoline after dark...evidently that's good for my lymphatic system too) I'm signed up for three months of Proellixe sessions, and I'm going to track my progress throughout, to see if this helps me on my journey to (FINALLY) my Weight Watchers goal. I got my measurements taken today, and I'll let you know the +/- after the end of the three months.

Why Can I NEVER Get This Right?

Aaaaahhhh!

I actually GAINED weight (albeit only 0.8 pounds) on my second week of Weight Watchers. Why? It's not a mystery. It was self-sabotage.

It goes like this: in my first week, I "cheated" a little, by not really tracking my points while away on a girls' weekend. I had a bit of Smartfood, a handful or two of M&Ms, some licorice, pizza and even a slurpee float with soft-serve. I expected the worst on Wednesday when I weighed in, but when I saw that I had still, somehow! managed to lose 6 pounds in that same week, I let it go to my head. And then during week two, I let things slide a little. I would have some cheese & crackers and not write it down. I had chicken fingers and fries for dinner with the kids one evening. I had cookies for a snack instead of apples.

I was, simply put, STUPID.

But hey, at least it was only 0.8 pounds, right? I mean, not even one whole pound. Still. It felt terrible...losing ground in a major battle sucks, even if it's only a few precious inches. Why waste time, effort and money if I'm not even going to try?

*sigh*

But this week, I've written down my goals on my WW tracker. I AM GOING TO STICK TO THE PROGRAM 100% AND I WILL WORK OUT 4X AND WALK 3X. I know that writing something down, telling others about it and saying it to yourself are all proven ways to make your goals more likely to succeed. And I really want to succeed. I do. I want to get it right (again) this time. I want to beat back this dragon of obesity and keep it at bay forever.

I want it more than I want deep-fried food. Or cookie dough. I do. IdoIdoIdo!

I Confess

I've been a bad girl for the past little while.

That is, I haven't been entirely honest with you.

I have, in fact, been hiding a dark, nasty little secret. But now it's time to come clean. I'm nervous though, and a little bit ashamed, so be kind, okay? Okay. I can do this. Are you ready? Can I tell you the truth? Ummmm....okay...here goes:

I have GAINED. BACK. TWENTY. POUNDS.

Twenty-three and change, to be precise. Yup, a few months of slacking and then a few more months of utter hedonism, and even my size 12s (that I bought when the size 10s got too snug for comfort) were too tight.

REALITY CHECK. Time to go back to Weight Watchers.

So, a week and a half ago, I rejoined. My leader extraordinaire remembered me and welcomed me back warmly, and I weighed in at 188.6. ONE-EIGHTY-EIGHT! In fact, at my lightest, about 1.5 years ago, I weighed a measly 158. But I could never maintain that and stayed pretty steady at 165 for a while. I should have made that my WW goal and earned lifetime membership at 165. But I didn't. I was vain, and I thought I could hit the elusive 155. My WW leader told me to set my goal at 165. She told me it was unrealistic to expect to weigh what I weighed at 21 (actually, I weighed more at 21, but that's not the point). And she was right. And I have paid the price.

So the 165 blossomed to 175, where I remained fairly contentedly for a few months. I shouldn't have been content, but I was.

But this...this is different. This the breaking point. This is where I say enough is enough.

So I know you want to know I did in my first week back at Weight Watchers. Well, I'll let my membership book tell the tale:

 

Yes, you read that right...it's a record-breaking six pounds! Now, before you go all crazy about it, let me tell you that this is NOT. TYPICAL. Nor do I expect to maintain it. But am I happy? Will I take it? Darn tootin' I will. Let's see how I do in week 2. I'm hoping for at least one pound.

I'll let you know next Thursday!

TEN SECONDS TO SELF-DESTRUCT...

I've been thinking lately about self-destructive behaviours, and why so many of us love to engage in them. Some examples? Overeating. Smoking. Tanning. I could go on...the point is, so many people have at least one self-destructive vice in their lives, and the amazing part of it is that we know the vice is self-destructive, yet we keep on indulging in it.

What got me thinking about this? Well, I read all about Jen's trip to Paris, and remembered fondly my short stay there a decade ago. When we talked on the phone, I remarked on her pictures and on the beauty of the city. Her response? "Yeah, but I just couldn't stand the smoking everywhere!" Turns out that even though Paris has enacted some non-smoking rules in restaurants, that only applies to the inside of the restaurants. Sitting on the patio enveloped in a haze of nicotine exhalations, Jen watched the people go by, most of them smoking. Pregnant women smoking. Women with babes in arms smoking. Young teenagers smoking. These are sights that are pretty much anathema here in most Canadian cities.

I uttered a number of shocked rejoinders, and was about to say, "how can they do that when surely they know what the health risks are?" when I realized that everyone does things despite knowing what the health risks are. A Parisian woman might come to any North American city and not notice the lack of cigarette smoke everywhere, but would certainly remark on the over-abundance of, well, over-abundant people. She would think, "how can they eat until they are so fat when surely they must know what the health risks are?"

Another self-destructive behaviour that we love to engage in is tanning. Not last week there was a story that ran on all the major Canadian TV news shows about tanning and the link to skin cancer. Did you know that Canada's skin cancer rate has risen steadily over the past 30 years, despite the advent of sunscreens and many public education campaigns? Also, the rate of malignant melanoma (the more dangerous kind of skin cancer) has doubled since 1978, yet we Canadians (especially young women) continue to go out in the sun unprotected and -- what's much, much worse -- continue to use tanning beds at an ever-increasing rate. Tanning beds are essentially skin-cancer ovens, bathing the skin in nothing but cancer-producing UV rays. A WHO study has shown that people who used a tanning salon before the age of 35 are 75% more likely to get melanoma; a finding which has been backed up by other subsequent studies. And yet, tanning bed use and sun-bathing are only on the rise in Canada.

So. We overeat. We tan. French people smoke. Pick your poison.

The point is, we all engage in some self-destructive behaviours, even when we know what the risks are. Reason tells us that we would simply say no to self-destructive behaviours, and for most of them, we do. I don't smoke. At all. I am a fanatic with sunscreen and sun hats and wouldn't even set foot in a tanning salon (although I did do it as a teenager, when they were thought to be safer than "real" tanning because they filtered out UVA rays). But overeating? That's much harder for me to resist. So what's behind it? I'm not a psychiatrist, but I have a feeling there must be something there, some reason why the feel-good factor of a bad habit outweighs the logical part of our brain screaming "NO! Don't DO that! It's bad for you!"

I just wish I knew what it was and how to overcome it, don't you?

Gettin' Sweaty With the Lawn

Summer is here, and our lawnmower just broke. Well, actually, it's been on its last legswheels for several seasons now, but we've been cobbling it back together by hook or by crook (and even -- in my desperation -- by duct tape) for the last two or three summers.

She was a gallant fighter...been in the family for two generations...a loyal servant...

As you can see, her injuries were, finally fatal.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to mow the lawn when the handles are all bendy at the bottom? Pretty tough, I'll tell ya.

Anyway. We have decided to put the old girl to rest, and upgrade (downgrade?) to a new one of these:

By all accounts, they cut quite well and -- biggest selling feature -- they use that best and most renewable of all  energy sources: good ol' human muscle power.

I know, I know, the shine will wear off and we will be tired of generating all the power required to mow our large-ish suburban lawn, but we will always be able to sit back in smugness and assure ourselves that:

a) we are doing a good thing for the planet and our children who will inherit it by using not an ounce of oil, gas, coal or other dirty power to mow the admittedly environmentally unfriendly lawn and,

b) we are getting some exercise doing it!

Wish us luck. 

Eating Real

A little over two years ago, I went on a camping trip with my family.

Stay with me here folks, it will come around to being relevant.

We stayed at a pretty nice campground, with a kids' playground and a little lake and nice beach. The bugs weren't too bad and the local town (Vulcan, AB) had some fun things to do as well. All in all, it should have been a really fun weekend for everyone.

Except that it was one of the worst weekends of my life, and it was a turning point in our family's summer recreational pursuits. Allow me to explain.

It was on this fateful camping trip (a few short weeks after the Hubster and I first joined Weight Watchers) that I decided that camping was, possibly, the worst way for a mother to spend the weekend. Why? Well because you have to all the regular motherly/wifely jobs WITHOUT the modern conveniences we are so dependent on. Let me tell you this: doing dishes after spaghetti dinner for four with cold water that I CARRIED to our campsite from a WATER PUMP and then had to CARRY to the grey water disposal site is an experience this gal is only willing to go through once in a lifetime (barring nuclear holocaust or some other similar technology-destroying disaster).

I know, it looks innocuous enough...

It was immediately following this weekend that one of the few ultimatums I've made in my marriage was uttered: "No more camping - ever - unless we change the way we do things."

Later that same summer, we went to Jasper National Park to camp for three days. In our cooler? A litre of milk, mini cereal bowls, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of jam, apples, oranges and several cans of Stagg Chili and Chunky Soup. Our meals? Cooked IN THE CAN on the Coleman stove and eaten out of said can. Doing the dishes? That consisted of dusting the PB&J crumbs into the garbage and washing one or two spoons and a knife.

I actually enjoyed that camping trip!

We hiked to the top of Whistlers (named after the whistling sound the hoary marmots make) Mountain.

Anyway, I promised I would get around to being relevant, so let me try. We just got home from a five day camping stint in Jasper National Park yesterday. Now, my "no dishwashing" camping policy has slipped a little bit, but remains largely intact. As a result, healthy, fresh food didn't figure very strongly in our weekend fare. There was more than one trip to the ice cream parlour (hey, cut us some slack...the temperature hit 35C on Sunday!), and a bag of chips might have kept us company on the five-hour drive. Hot dogs and marshmallows highlighted our wienie roast night, and the brand new jar of Nutella came home more than half empty. To top it all off, we were all so exhausted when we got home last night that we ordered pizza & wings for dinner.

As you can imagine, both hubster and I vowed this morning that we needed to get back to eating "real food" - we feel sluggish, fat and actually rather sick.

So wasn't it perfect timing for me to read Christine's latest post in Team Urbanmoms called "What is Normal Eating?" She offers up some great tips and there's already a good conversation going in the comments...you should be sure to go by and check it out.

It really got me thinking. I lost 50 pounds, and two years later I've managed to keep 40 of them off. I must be able to impart some sort of weight loss widsom to the masses. So here are my thoughts on "normal eating", or "eating real" as the Hubster and I like to call it:

• There really, really are no quick fixes. Sorry! Slow weight loss is much more likely to be permanent weight loss.
• Your body is smarter than your brain. If you find a "quick fix" diet (I could name a few, but I won't), count on it that it'll only work once (the first time). After that, your super-smart body will catch on and outwit you. Cutting out carbs? Great! Don't plan to add them back in again - EVER - or your body will go into hyperdrive converting every single microgram of simple starch in your diet into sugar and thence into fat in a "so there!" kinda way. Same goes for ultra-low calorie diets and detox/cleansing (except that you do actually cleanse your system of toxins...but after the first fasting/cleansing part, your body will PACK. ON. THE. WEIGHT. if you try to do it again).
• Did I mention that your body is smarter than your brain? I did? Well then brainiac, learn to listen to the smart one in the operation. When you feel hungry, eat a little. When you feel full, stop eating. When you feel sick, change what you're eating.
• Learn to tell the difference between hungry and thirsty. This was H.U.G.E. for me. Huge. As soon as I started drinking enough fluids (mostly water, but not exclusively) I realized that a lot of the time I thought I was hungry, I was actually thirsty. And - imagine this - eating did not make the feeling go away!
• Preparing "real" food is actually not a lot harder than preparing/buying junk food. And it's a whole lot tastier, more nutritious, enjoyable and rewarding. Try it...you'll like it! I promise...
• It's a simple mathematical equation. If you input (i.e. eat) more calories than you output (i.e. exercise) you will gain weight. You want to reverse that equation. So if the odd "bad" indulgence still needs to be part of your life (it does for me) then you have to step up the output part of the equation. So get out there and get moving. And by the way, you don't have to join a gym or run a marathon, either. Ride bikes with the kids; dig out the wagon and take your toddler to the zoo; wake up before everyone else, put on your iPod and go for a walk first thing in the morning; walk up a flight of stairs at work instead of taking the elevator. I personally like to indulge in my Wii Fit and I also frequently sneak out for a 10-20 minute stint on the trampoline when the kids are otherwise occupied.

So there you have it...my "secret to losing weight and keeping it off"

Five Years=Forty Pounds

Can it be just five short years ago?

So, so much has changed in my life since the birth of my second child that I find it nearly impossible to believe that only five years can have elapsed since that day.

This, for one. Somehow my family has grown from this:

to this:

I and I have shrunk; from this:

to this:

And now I face the battle of keeping the weight off. Oh, and fighting that last ten pounds, that wants to keep creeping on again. And needs to be beaten back. With a heavy stick. Oh, and probably some exercise wouldn't hurt, either!

So here I am, with my baby turning five and wondering...where do I go from here?   

Wii Too Much Fun!

Yes.

I did it.

I stood in line in the freezing cold rain on Saturday morning for no less than two hours.

Just to get my hands on one of these:

You got it! Sucker for gadgets, right here! It's a funny story, actually, how I came to be standing in line for a video game accessory. See, my little sister has one of these babies, and judging by her enthusiastic praise, I wanted one. Truthfully, I was curious about the Yoga (being an enthusiastic yogini myself) and I wanted to know if I could beat her Wii Fit age of 47 (she's actually 35...but don't tell her I told you!).

So there you have it. A little bit of "my toy" syndrome, a little bit of curiosity, and a little bit of sibling competition, and I wanted that Wii Fit.

I mentioned it to the Hubster, and he was opposed. They cost $89, and he couldn't see any real reason to get one. Until he saw the Toys 'R Us flyer, with the ad for the new "Wii Ski" game. Each Toys 'R Us store was guaranteed a minimum of 20 Wii Fits, and I was duly dispatched to stand in line for ours.

It wasn't all that bad actually; there was a sense of solidarity and camaraderie amongst the first 20 people that Saturday morning. We speculated on how many Wii Fits the store would receive, how they would disburse them fairly, and whether any poor souls were lined up at the mall entrance. We laughed at ourselves for standing out in the rain and cold, but in a conspiratorial "I'm going to get one and the other poor souls who don't know that you have to be here EARLY...hours early are not" kind of way.

In the end, I was the ninth person to get a Wii Fit at that store that morning, and am I ever glad I did.

Honestly. This thing is so much more fun that just the Wii...and that's saying a lot, because the Wii on it's own is pretty damn fun. To give you some idea, the kids and I fight over it regularly, and I've logged over 1 hour of activities on it each day. And they're not just dumb video game activities, either. I am seriously stiff now - especially in my quads, glutes and abs - from the strength training activities, which (in my humble opinion) is where this little board shines.

The best features of this baby?

The Miis. You gotta love this. When you first step on the board, it puts you through a body test, and your Mii is then sized accordingly. I, with my BMI at 27 (embarrassingly overweight), had to witness my Mii grow 3 sizes into this plump little number:

While my kids (whose Miis, at BMIs of 14, look like beanpoles) laughed themselves to tears. And oh yeah, by the way, my Wii Fit age was 47 - just like my sister's!

Trainers: you get to choose between a male or female virtual trainer who coaches you through the Yoga and Strength Training exercises. Who did I choose? The buff guy, of course!



Hubba hubba!

Strength Training: as I said, I think this is the Wii Fit's forte. It really helps you target the muscle groups you're working on in each exercise, with some really cool bio-feedback from the board. For example, when you're doing the lunges, a bar appears on the screen representing the weight you're placing on the leg you're working on: you have to keep your weight within a narrow range, and it really makes you work so much more! And a similar feedback mechanism is at work on all the exercises - doing situps? The board knows when your feet touch back down. Plank? You've got to keep your centre of balance centred in the middle of the board...left to right, front to back. I am honestly more sore now than I usually was after working with a personal trainer at the gym. Really.

Aerobics/Balance Games: You have not lived until you've ski jumped or hoola hooped or (funnest!) taken a step class on the Wii Fit.

All in all? Worth every one of the 120 cold, wet minutes I stood outside the store! Wii too much fun, actually. Go get one. Now.

Why Do I Do It?

It's been a rough month or so for me, eating-wise, that is.

I've been under a fair amount of stress lately, and when I'm stressed out, I eat. And then I had my birthday this past weekend, and that seemed like a good excuse NOT to scrimp, so I didn't. And I actually had to unbutton my jeans when I was slouching down in a semi-coma on the couch in front of the TV. Yay me.

So yesterday I decided things had to change. I dusted off the Isagenix shakes and had a healthful day.

And helping me have a healthful day...have you seen this?

It's a veggie platter from Costco. It's got loads of great stuff: broccoli, cucumber, carrots, grape tomatoes, peppers, sugar snap peas and two kinds of dip (FYI, the mustard dip rocks).

Normally you would buy this and serve it to a group of people at a get-together, but this week I bought one for our family. My kids love to munch on the veggies & dip, and it's a great snacking option for the Hubster and me, too. Knowing that it's there in the fridge - and everything is washed, cut and nicely arranged - that is some healthy-eating peace of mind!

And as of closing today, things are going well. Shakes for breakfast and dinner, healthy grilled chicken, veggies and 7-grain salad for lunch, with fresh strawberries to snack on throughout the day. As I said to the Hubster, "this is better. Why do we eat any differently than this?"

Well, why do we?

My Secret Diet Sabotage

This whole week I've felt like [insert your favourite scatological term here]. And I KNOW it's because you are what you eat and I've been eating crap. And I could so easily have switched back over to the Isagenix program - honestly, it doesn't get much easier than turning on the blender to make a shake. A really filling, tasty, healthful and nurturing shake.

But I didn't dare do it around my husband.

Why? Because it's his 40th birthday today and I have a great dinner planned for him:

• Beef ribs (such a treat out here in the land of the cow)
• Rice & bean salad
• Grilled veggies
• Cake.

And the cake. OHMYGODTHECAKE. Can I tell you, for a few minutes, about this cake? First off, my daughters invented it, and I made it myself. Second, it's an ice cream cake. A three-layer ice cream cake. In a bundt pan. Covered with a mile of whipped cream and chocolate ganache. Ahem. It is a freakin' MASTERPIECE! A layer of chocolate ice cream into which I blended mini peanut-butter cups. Then, a layer of chocolate fudge (again, thickly infused with mini peanut-butter cups). Next, a layer of vanilla ice cream (with yet more mini peanut-butter cups). I popped it out of the bundt pan and liberally topped it with fresh whipped cream (into which I had whipped just the slightest bit of - yes, peanut butter) and finally, drizzled with homemade chocolate ganache.

If I weren't already married I might just take this cake to the altar.

So. I want to enjoy that cake. I want my kids to enjoy that cake. Most of all, I want my husband to enjoy that cake. And if the man sees me making a healthy shake for breakfast, he will get the bug and go all healthy on me. And this is a man for whom there are no shades of gray. When he goes on a diet, he goes 100%. Weighs his portions, calculates calories to the third decimal point. This man, let's call him Diet Man, would not appreciate the love, hard work and imagination that went into his birthday cake. He would be frustrated that it even existed, tempting him. He would wonder why we had been so thoughtless as to put this before him, when a small bowl with 30g of strawberries and exactly 1/2 packet of Splenda would have been more appropriate.

So, for a week, I've been burying Diet Man under a mountain of pizza, chicken wings and microwave meals. I've practically drowned him with Coke Zero and even bought chips on my last outing to the grocery store. All in preparation for a relaxed enjoyable birthday dinner.

Then back to diet boot camp on Sunday!

Just in time for Mother's Day...will they bring me my shake in bed, do you think?

Fresh Air and Exercise

There's nothing like a day spent outdoors in springtime to make you feel totally and deliciously alive. Yesterday we took the family up to Sunshine Village for a gorgeous day of spring skiing and an early-season picnic.

Of course little gimp (as we affectionately refer to her) wasn't able to ski, still being impeded by the cast on her broken little leg and all. But she did have a dandy of a good day in the daycare, where everyone doted on her and gave her "jobs" to do. She was there for 10 weeks of mornings this winter, and forged some lovely relationships with her caregivers. It was nice for her to be able to go back for a visit. When I picked her up she was as happy as the proverbial pig, having been promoted to being "in charge" of the whole daycare. What a coup!

The remainder of the family enjoyed the sunny warm weather and the lovely soft snow. The big girl got a real treat in the form of cool sunglasses, as her old goggles weren't fitting so well anymore. And anyway, spring skiing is all about wearing sunglasses instead of goggles:



We skied, and talked, and ate outdoors, enjoying our trail mix and apple slices and our Mini Babybel Swiss:

Which, by the way, rocks my picnic world at a mere 60 calories and 5g of fat. Perfect for an outdoor lunch, and worlds of fun for little girls who like to mold the wax wrappers!

How Many Fritters Could YOU Resist?

Picture it:

It's Sunday morning, and the sky is a little overcast, but you can practically smell the promise of a beautifully sunny day in the air. You have a new dishwasher in your kitchen, just waiting to be installed. Nothing can mar the perfection of your morning coffee.

Except. Well, except EVERY-FREAKIN-THING!

Here's what happened. My new dishwasher was supposed to arrive Thursday, and the big national retailer I bought it from was supposed to phone me to advise me that it had arrived. They didn't. So I called. Yes, my dishwasher was in, and ready to be picked up. Great! Despite my desire to drop all other commitments and run over there with a dolly myself and wheel the thing home on foot, I agreed to wait until Saturday morning when I could hitch a ride over with my friend with a truck (yes, the ubiquitous friend with a truck - she actually said, "that's why I had to buy a truck, Katherine, because the next best thing to having a truck is having a friend with a truck...so really, I did it for you!")

By the time all was said and done, it was lunchtime when we arrived back at home with my new dishwasher. Oh wait, actually, it wasn't my new dishwasher. In fact, it was the wrong new dishwasher. To the tune of $350 less of a dishwasher than what we had bought.

ARRRGGH.

After no less than four phone calls and talking to three people in person at the store, we decided to return the dishwasher for a refund. The best these guys could do for us was to say they would leave a note for the original salesman, who would re-order the dishwasher for us when he came back from holiday next week. Then it would take two weeks for it to be shipped in.

Hello? Three more weeks of dishpan hands? I think not.

So off we trudged to a local, non-national-chain appliance retailer where we found a beautiful new LG dishwasher that was better than the store brand we had just returned, cost $100 less, and - get this - was IN STOCK RIGHT NOW.

So we brought it home. And we almost installed it, but the hose from the old dishwasher was a wee little bit short.

And here's where the fritters and the beautiful Sunday morning come in.

First thing Sunday, I was sent to Rona for a length of dishwasher hose. And a new coupling. But it wasn't quite the right one. So back I went. And yet again, somehow the part I bought didn't fit the bill. And once more. In the end, I made four trips to Rona before we decided we actually needed a plumber (funny enough, when I called one, he advised me to rent the right tool at Rona, which we did, and Hubster installed the dishwasher perfectly today).

What kills me is that there is a Tim Horton's in Rona. Right in the main thoroughfare to the cash registers. It's pretty much impossible to miss. And it smells so darn good. On my first trip, it didn't even register with me, so intent on pex tubing was I. On the second trip, I eyed the blueberry fritters, but not even very longingly. On the third trip, I had already made up my mind to get a fritter. But I resisted! Very proud of myself, I was. And then. The fourth. Trip. To Rona. It killed me. Just the fact that I was there...again...on a fool's errand of elbows and t-joints and crimping tools and copper rings.

I caved.

I got the blueberry fritter.

I ate it in the van on the way home. I hid the Timmie's bag at the bottom of the garbage in the garage.

It was the best thing I had all day.

My Happy Weight

So, I've been thinking lately. I stress out so much these days about my weight...

I've gotta lose ten more pounds...I never made it to my goal...

And I keep doing all these different things to lose that extra 10 pounds:

• a personal trainer
• re-joining Weight Watchers
• fad diets (à la Sacred Heart)
• Isagenix

And they all work. And then I go back to "normal" eating -- meaning that once in a while, yes, I do indulge a little bit too much. I make brownies and eat six. Or I get popcorn at the movies. Or I have seconds of pasta. Whatever.

Look, I know I could lose that extra 10 pounds, and probably 10 more. For sure I could. But do you know what I'd have to do to maintain it? I do. I'd have to watch every morsel of food...be on top of every mouthful. Say "no thanks" to popcorn at the movies. And I'd have to exercise a lot more. It's not that I'm sedentary (I walk a lot, I go to yoga every week, I ride my bike places...), but I'm not a gym bum either -- when could I be? I have young children, a husband, a job, a house and hobbies. And unless I also have an extra 2 hours in each day, I don't have time to exercise more than I do now. Plus I don't like it that much. Given the choice between going to the gym and scrapbooking, I'll take scrapbooking every time.

You know, when all is said and done, I have done really, really well. It's been almost exactly two years now, and I'm more than 40 pounds less than I was when I started. Sure, I have been 10 pounds lighter than I am now, but I kinda think I might have found my happy weight. It may not be exactly within the Weight Watchers ranges, and I might be on the higher side of a healthy BMI, but I like how I look in clothes, and more importantly, I like how I feel.

Here's a before and after for you:

That's me about the time that my second child was about a year old. I weighed nearly the same as when I was nine months pregnant with her!

And here I am a few weeks ago.

I like where I am. I don't want to have to think about absolutely everything I eat, or give up a hobby in favour of daily workouts. I want to make mostly healthy choices, most of the time. I actually think I'm happy to be where I am. I'd rather enjoy life most of the time, without worrying too much, and then work for a few weeks to lose 5 or 10 pounds again every six months or so, than have to be vigilant all the time in order to maintain an "ideal" weight, that isn't necessarily so ideal after all.

Acceptance & Forgiveness

So, my kid broke her leg.

Her Dad and I felt terribly responsible for it at first. We bought and take care of her ski equipment, which caused the fracture -- her bindings didn't release her boots from her skis when she fell. But it goes deeper than that, too: we are her parents. We are supposed to take care of her. And she hurt herself, so by extension we failed in our duty to protect her. I wept when her leg was set, because it was so brutally, physically painful (even with the sedative) and I HAD FAILED TO PREVENT THAT PAIN.

Now a week-and-a-half has passed, and I've had time to accept that pain can be -- in fact, is -- a part of growing up...of life, in fact. And I've had time to forgive myself for the din setting on her bindings, the second-hand ski boots, the fact that we took her skiing at all. I've learned that kids will get hurt -- even sometimes very badly -- and what matters is that you are there for them 100% when they do. Which we were.

The Hubster was, as it happens, a ski patroller for a number of years, and he shared a few horror stories with me recently. Not about badly injured kids, but about uncontrollable parents. One girl he remembers bit her tongue very badly when she fell at the resort he used to work at. There was a lot of blood, and the little girl was understandably distressed. The Hubster and his partner (who were the first to arrive) had to call in a backup team - not to help the little girl, but to restrain her mother, who was physically attacking the two patrollers who were trying to administer first aid. Even while being restrained, she was screaming out to the other skiers on the hill and the lift above for help! They were trying to kill her daughter!

Now, I know all about being completely freaked out about your child's injury. Remember, I was the one who looked in the boot and discovered her leg was broken. It was ugly. My stomach lurched. My head span. I broke out in a sweat and my hands were shaking. I said, "oh yeah. It's definitely broken." I gave Hubster an imploring look. And I hugged my little girl. I told her that the ski patrol was going to come and help her soon. That everything was okay. That we would be there. That I was right beside her. That I knew it was "owie" and that we would get some medicine soon to help. That she was sooooo brave!

And I also had time for her big sister. To give her a hug, wipe her tears and reassure her that her little sister would be fine. That I was proud of her for being so brave and strong. That I would see her in just a few minutes at the first aid building, and everything would be fine.

I shouldn't act like a complete hero here. I did turn my head to the side and silently cry while waiting for the ski patrol, once more in the first aid building while her leg was being splinted and again when it was being set. But I didn't let my children know I was doing it. Because I knew my job was to be strong for their sake. After it was all over, both girls were in bed, and Hubster and I had a moment alone, we just held each other and rocked, spilling our collective sorrow and guilt. We gave each other a safe space for release of those difficult emotions and in doing so, also comforted one another in our solidarity.

So now I look back and feel -- I guess regret is the best word for it -- that my little one broke her leg. But I don't feel guilt anymore. And that has freed me up for self-forgiveness which --

and here's the part where I finally get around to discussing weight loss, the raison d'etre of this blog, after all

 

-- has freed me from the burden of emotional eating. I'd been tied up for nearly two weeks with this emotional roller-coaster, and I was dulling the effects with food. Bad food. And lots of it. But now, for the last few days, I've been feeling better. I've made really smart, healthy choices and I know that's helped me not only physically, but emotionally as well.

It's just this simple: when you feed your body well, your mind will benefit too. It can be so hard to make that first step - to choose a healthy shake for breakfast instead of a cup of black coffee. To choose an apple with almond butter (I had this fave snack three times yesterday!) instead of a bag of chips. To be sure to eat lots of vegetables each and every day. But once you do, it becomes self-perpetuating. The better you eat, the better you feel. The better you feel, the more you want to eat well. Pretty soon you start to look better, too, and that just reinforces the good habits.

It's great to be back again!

Best Diet: Worst Diet

This is the best diet EVAH!

This is the gaping hole where my dishwasher used to be. It broke. It flooded the kitchen. It ruined the floor. But that's old news. I've been avidly shopping for new dishwashers ever since and enjoying the "broken-dishwasher-diet". Let me explain: when you know you're going to have to wash all your dishes by hand, you sure think twice about making food!

This new diet is going to be in effect for some time, as it will take at least 7-10 days for the new dishwasher to get here...once we order it, that is! And why haven't we ordered one yet? Well, we're paralyzed by choice, to be frank. Once you start doing your research, you quickly realize that almost all dishwashers (and I'm sure the same applies to fridges, washers and dryers, too) are made by one of three manufacturers, even though there are dozens of different brands. You can buy a dishwasher called "Maytag" (remember the iconic Maytag repairman?) but it is manufactured by Whirlpool, which also makes high-end Jenn-Air and KitchenAid dishwashers, as well as Amana and Admiral. You can buy a Kenmore dishwasher at Sears, but it's exactly the same as the GE model beside it, as is the Beau*Mark dishwasher over at The Bay, because all three were made by GE and just had different stickers applied at the end of the assembly line. Frigidaire? Made by Electrolux. Freaked out yet? I don't know about you, but I don't want to drop $1,000 (or more) on a KitchenAid dishwasher when it was made by the same folks churning out the $500 Amana. Or even worse...drop $900 on a GE profile when you could buy its cousin, the Moffat, for under $300!

Reading all the consumer reports on what we now call the BIG THREE (Wirlpool, GE, Electrolux) has led The Hubster and me to consider an international model. Bosch (which also makes Siemens) and Miele are European, and come with the corresponding price tag and great reputation. Korean-made LG also gets rave reviews, but you need to budget at least $1,000 for any of these makes. Which begs the question: should you buy a brand-new Moffat every 3 years for 12 years, or get one Bosch, Miele or LG and hope it lasts 12 years for the same $1,200?

*sigh*

So you can see why we're still on the Dishwasher Diet. Time for dinner? Have an apple or a banana...you can throw the core/peel in the garbage and I don't have to wash dishes!

And now: for the WORST. DIET. EVER.

You remember her, right? My little invalid? Things have been so incredibly hectic around our house since the fateful incident, that it's been hard to even think straight, let alone eat well.

And then there's the guilt. She's got such old, hand-me-down skis. Impossible to properly adjust the din setting on the bindings. Second-hand boots, too. Maybe that's why her skis didn't release when she fell. Maybe that's why she broke her tiny, vulnerable leg (that we should have protected better!). The Hubster and I have been racked by guilt - even though we know she may have broken her leg no matter what her equipment, and if we didn't ski on Sunday it may have happened this weekend (when we were supposed to visit friends in Fernie). None of it matters. She's our kid, and she got hurt. Badly. On our watch. And we feel responsible.

In case you didn't know it already, guilt and food are very, very good friends. Add in being busy and at the constant beck and call of mini-Genghis Khan, and it's harder to make good choices.

So now the question is...will the Dishwasher Diet balance out the Guilt Diet? We'll have to wait and see, but I'm hoping the guilt will abate before the dishwasher is delivered!

Check out more of Kath at her other blog, This is Kat.

OUCH! Or How I Got Hit in Banff

So. I'm at Sunshine Village on Sunday, skiing with the Hubster as we have every Sunday for the past ten weeks. Our daughters have been in the Mountain Freeriders program there, having a blast and becoming far better skiers than we could ever have taught them to be. There has been fresh snow, and Bye Bye Bowl is full of it - the wind blows uphill there, and sifts in more snow than what actually falls from the sky, so it really is the place to be if you're looking fresh tracks. Which we are.

It is also steep, expert terrain. But that's cool, I can handle it. In fact, I had handled it - and quite well - several times already. Hubster and I ride up the lift with a pair of young (in their early 20s) guys; one snowboarder and one skier. Hubby and I are raving about how good the snow is over in the bowl, and they obviously listen, because they follow us off the lift and over to the bowl.

Making fast, floating turns, I whip my way down the mountain. Swish, swish, swish, swish. Judging the moment to be right, I cut my last turn short and point my skis straight downhill; Sunshine is full of gullies and flats, and getting out of Bye-Bye bowl requires a burst of speed that only a straight shot can provide. And so I accelerate: piling on the speed and flying like a bat out of hell towards the uphill of the cat track when

WHAM!

He hits me. Right behind me, the guy on the board had been riding my heels the whole way down, spooking me badly enough that I checked up earlier on in the run and nearer to the top. I thought I had shaken him, but either he was in out of his depth and wanted to take my track, or else he was riding the white stuff oblivious of me. Either way, the downhill skier/rider has the right of way (for the obvious reason: no eyes in the backs of heads) and I was definitely downhill.

For what seems like several seconds all I see is white as I slide down, down, down under the blanket of  fresh snow. Then I think, "I have to stop". I turn over, dig in my toes and hands and slowly come to a stop. A hundred yards below me, he apologies. Profusely. Asks if I'm okay. I think I am. Possibly not, but nevertheless I reassure him I am fine. Still, he waits, to be sure. I stand up. My goggles fall off; they're no longer buckled to my helmet. My helmet is askew. Thank GOD I wear a helmet. My mitts are full of snow. My torso is full of snow. My pants are full of snow. I dust myself off and scan uphill for my skis.

Oh. There they are. Way up there. One pole is still strapped to my left hand, the other is unstrapped but seems to be still clutched in my right hand. Slowly, deliberately, like the climbers you see in movies about ascending Everest, I climb up to my skis. Step. Kick. Bury your toe in the snow so you don't slip and lose all the ground you've gained. Panting, I realize I've had the wind knocked out of me. My head is ringing, and I feel very, very groggy. I reach one ski, pick it up, climb a few more steps, and place it down beside its mate. Precariously, I balance on one foot and one pole, using the other pole to clear the packed-on snow from the sole of my boot before stomping my foot into the binding - hopefully without sending it careering off downhill to the bottom of the gully.

SNAP!

Success. One ski on. SNAP! Two skis on. The guy who hit me is still there, waiting to be sure I'm okay. Give him credit: he apologized, he waited to be sure I was okay and could get myself back out of there. Hey, skiing is a sport with a pretty high level of inherent risk, especially when you go about it aggressively, as I was. I accept that it's only a matter of time before all skiers will be in a collision, and I'm just grateful I got out of mine as lightly as I did. It happens. I wave him on, he leaves, I wait for him to clear the cat track. I take a deep breath and tell myself what I told my daughters when they were learning to ride their two-wheelers:

You will fall. It's guaranteed. But you will have to pick yourself back up and get right back on again. It's the only way to get over the fear of falling.

And it is. So I do. And I will live to ski (fast) another weekend.

Check out what's new at Kath's personal blog, This Is Kat.

My Favourite Things

So. I was going through my cupboards and fridge (must be a daylight-savings induced spring cleaning) and I got thinking about some favourite recipes that I either make all the time or haven't made in a while. I haven't eaten a lot of "real" food lately, since I've been workin' the Isagenix plan, but I do have a number of really good, healthy and "non-fattening" (there's a phrase you don't hear much these days) recipes that have helped me a lot in my 50-pound weight loss quest, and I am not stingy about sharing recipes, so here you go...enjoy!

SMOOTHIES

The first thing you need when considering smoothies is a VERY GOOD blender. And by very good, I mean sturdy, solid, and well-made. If you're serious about smoothies (and you should be!) then you need to invest some coin in your blender. You will not regret it. And when buying a blender, there is just one key thing to remember: PARTS THAT MOVE AGAINST ONE ANOTHER SHOULD NOT BE MADE OF PLASTIC. This means that the gear on the base of your blender and its mate in the pitcher should be metal. If not, they will eventually get unseated and burn up from the friction. This is messy, smelly and ruinous for your small kitchen appliance. Trust me...I know whereof I speak. As for the pitcher, try to stay away from plastic or polycarbonate simply for health reasons (bisphenol and all that). Glass is best when it comes to pitchers, and I prefer a pitcher with a very pronounced spout - smoothies are thick and viscous, and a square-topped blender with just a small lip for a spout makes a messy job of pouring (again, I know whereof I speak here).

Okay! On to the recipes!

First, get yourself over to Costco (or a regular grocery store) and buy yourself some bags of frozen fruit.
The only other ingredient you need is juice and/or Crystal Light (depending on if you want to go really low-cal, or if you want to avoid aspartame...your choice!)

My favourites are mangoes, peaches (or mango-peach mixture) and raspberries (or a good berry mixture, heavy on raspberries/blackberries, not overdone with blueberries).

As for juices, I like cranberry and the Sun-Rype FruitPlus Veggies Mango-Pineapple blend.

Here's how to make a killer smoothie for two:

1 cup frozen fruit
1 cup juice (or Crystal-light)
Blend on medium for 15 seconds, then on high for 30 seconds

Serve immediately (with a straw) and enjoy!

My fave combos are:

• Cubed frozen mangoes (Europe's Best) blended with Sun-Rype FruitPlus Veggies Mango-Pineapple juice.
• Peach & mango mix (from Costco) blended with white cranberry juice (sweet!).
• Berry mix (from Costco) blended with cranberry juice.

Smoothies are a great way to get a lot of fruits into your body in a delicious and very indulgent way!

MARINATED FLANK STEAK

Okay, maybe it's a bit of a jump from smoothies to steak, but honestly, we used to live off this recipe. It's totally versatile...serve 3-4 ounces sliced fresh off the grill with some grilled veggies and 1/2 cup of brown rice, or serve 2 ounces cold on a romaine salad with fresh tomatoes and blue cheese dressing. Serve cold in tortillas or heat it up in a veggie stir-fry. Try it. You'll like it!

To make the marinade:

(mix all ingredients in a large ziploc freezer bag)

1-2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp dried ginger
1/3 cup soya sauce
1/2 tsp sesame oil (you can substitute other oils, but it won't have the same flavour)
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

Place the flank steak in the ziploc bag with the marinade, and allow to marinate for several hours (overnight is better, 2 days is best!)

Cook the steak over very high heat on a grill - 2 minutes on the first side, 1 minute on the second side. The steak will be rare in the middle, but to me this is the tastiest way. If you prefer your meat more well-done, let me first disparage your taste (peasant!) and then feel free to grill it a bit longer, or cook to a specific temperature. I prefer not to cut open the meat on the grill to test for doneness, because a) it releases all the juices (which robs the meat of flavour) and b) it's hard to see how well the meat is done (because of the juices -- see above).

Allow the steak to sit for 10 or more minutes before slicing, to prevent the juices escaping, then slice, on the diagonal, against the grain.

Serve with grilled veggies and a small grain serving (1/2 cup of rice). And the leftover possibilities are endless, too!

FAUX ICE-CREAM SANDWICHES

So easy, yet so delicious. Buy a box of chocolate flavoured pizzelle, and a tub of ultra low-fat cool whip (or other filling...even ice cream works!).

*NB: make sure you thaw whatever filling you'll be using before attempting to assemble these.

Spoon about 1/4 cup of filling in the middle of one pizzelle. Place a second pizzelle on top and twist gently to evenly spread the filling. Place the finished sandwich on a cookie sheet lined with parchment (or wax) paper. Make enough sandwiches to fill the cookie sheet, cover with a second piece of parchment paper, and freeze for several hours. Once the sandwiches are frozen, you will want to store them in an airtight container/bag to prevent freezer burn.

These kick butt served with fresh sliced strawberries. YUM!

I hope you enjoy my fun, favourite recipes. I might just have to dust them off myself in the coming days!

The First Month

It's been a month now that I've been using Isagenix. What a journey it's been, too! I've gone from from wanting to eat dryer lint to being perfectly satisfied eating nothing at all, and I think I've hit on just about every emotion in between, too.

When I started Isagenix, I was skeptical. Then I became hungry and belligerent. Then I was on a weight-loss-induced high. And now I've settled into a general good place. I'll put it into 3 words for you:

I LOVE ISAGENIX.

I am very grateful to Jen for suggesting it (and doing it along with me!) to Hubster for joining in the fun as well, and to Steve for coaching, encouraging and supporting us all through it!

I can honestly say that every day I only feel better about the Isagenix program and the changes it has brought to my life. To be honest, I haven't stepped on the scale in over a week, but even the jeans I bought last weekend are fitting me better.

The keen observer will also note that I took your sage advice and paired the skinny jeans with a long top (finally! a use for the long top I accidentally bought last winter!) and a new pair of high-heeled (and very pointy) boots. Boots on sale for $24, so not really throwing good money after bad, was it?

Also fitting very comfortably into my ski pants that I could almost not do up the weekend before I started Isagenix:

   
I know, lean back much? I am actually not that bad of a skier, but it's hard to ski and pose for a picture at the same time. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

But the point is not what I'm wearing, but how I'm feeling. Gone is the old, tired nearly-40-and-feelin'-it Kath. Here (to stay) is the new feelin'-better-than-ever Kath! Check out how bright-eyed, alert, fresh and happy I look in this picture:

That look in my eye? That says it all. Isagenix is a permanent part of my life now.

If you have any questions about Steve Bentley or Bentley Coaching or Isagenix contact Steve at performancecoaching@sympatico.ca or by phone at 416.407.6361. You can also go to www.performancecoaching.infoseekdirect.com and www.cleansedforlife.com.

Help! I Accidentally Bought Skinny Jeans!

Okay. I know they're in right now, but not for my body-type and age. I swear to you, I bought them completely by accident. Here's how it happened:

I'm at the mall, all by myself. I am supposed to be picking up my next six months' supply of contact lenses. That took all of 5 minutes, and I have, by my reckoning, 55 more to myself before I have to get home before my lunch guests arrive or Gramma goes crazy from playing Operation over and over again with my cheaters kids.

I head to Lululemon, in search of the ever-absent size 10 hoodie in a colour I actually like. Spend 40 minutes or so ogling very, very expensive jackets, decide to settle for a new t-shirt for Yoga class (and yes, I do feel superior for actually shopping at Lululemon for -gasp- real yoga purposes!). Of course, none of the t-shirts I like are available in a colour I like. As I do not look good in kelly green -- and certainly not for $89 -- I head out on my travel-path back to where I parked my van.

And then I saw it. The fateful sign:

ALL INVENTORY UP TO 80% OFF. EVERYTHING MUST GO.

How could I not go into the store? With only seconds to spare (those of you who know me well now know why I am almost always late) I dashed in...dashed over to the winter coats...broke a hanger (accident!) couldn't find a brown one in my size...dashed over to the jeans...grabbed a pair in my size and -- without trying on, looking back or even looking down at the style of the jeans -- bought them for a whopping $20. That's $20.10 including GST and we don't have PST in Alberta (neener-neener).

I got home and tried them on. My first thought? They're a bit too tight around the hips and bum. But my mom said they looked good, so I decided to wear them anyway. It was only when I caught my reflection in a window hours later that I realized it:

Not only are they a bit too tight on the hips and bum, they're also a bit too tight on the knees, calves and ankles.

GAK! I accidentally bought skinny jeans!

This is what skinny jeans are supposed to look like:

And this is what my skinny jeans look like:

and this:

I'm wearing them with flats because I read somewhere that this is de rigeur, and Jen also advised it when I told her about my jeans-buying blunder. Furthermore, the 80s girl in me can NOT get over jeans and high-heeled pumps. NEVER. This is because I - no word of a lie - once wore white leather pumps with 3-inch heels with jeans. Yes I did. And it has taken 20 years of therapy to get over it, so I will not go there again. Ever.

So I'm stuck with them now, and my question to you is this: should I just try to get used to them? Or should I bury them in the back of my jeans-drawer and forget about them?

A Rather Delicate Report

Well, it's been, let's see, how many days on Isagenix now? Ummm...fifteen! Yes, 15 whole days of progressively feeling better and better, leaner and cleaner!

Today I weigh 170.2, which is up a bit from my Day 10 weight, but that was immediately following two cleansing days, and my experience with the first 2 cleanse days was that I lost a bunch, then gained back a bit. Sorta 2 steps forward, one step back progress. Still, my current weight is a whopping 6.6 pounds down from my starting weight, and that's nothing to sneeze at. Not that I would know about sneezing. See, a lot of the teachers, kids and families at our school have been off sick. My own child's teacher missed this entire week of school, and had been away several days per week in the preceding few weeks as well. (Actually, don't tell anyone but I think maybe she's pregnant...she's recently married, and then all these sick days...maybe, maybe not, right?)

Anyway, my point is that no bug is able to touch me right now. I've cared for both my daughters through a rash of illness, and haven't had a sniffle or a twinge myself. Normally the routine goes like this: daughter comes home from school with some bug, gets sick, Mommy takes care of her and picks up bug, Mommy gets sick. Not this time though. Not with Isagenix. And the Hubster (who lost 18 lbs in the first 10 days!) reports that there's been a veritable epidemic at his workplace, but he hasn't felt anything but robustly healthy for the last two weeks.

And then there's the matter of the delicate report. I'm thrilled to notice this in myself, but, well, ah...embarrassed to report it to you. But in the interests of blog integrity and complete disclosure I feel I must elaborate. Okay. Who out there has had a kid? I mean, actually physically cooked a baby in your belly and pushed it out your  ? Those of you who have will know that this experience does things to places on your body. The pressure of pregnancy and stage 2 labour can have a way of weakening blood vessels, causing them to - ahhhh - bulge.

Yes, okay, I'm talking about hemorrhoids and varicosities. And I had a few of each, which troubled me so much I even went to a doctor. "These are supposed to clear up right after pregnancy," I was told. But mine didn't. Even after I lost 50 pounds and there was less pressure in said place, they persisted in their painful presence.

Not anymore! And that's my rather delicate but utterly wonderful news today. After a mere 15 days on Isagenix, I am hemorrhoid and varicosity free.

And that, my friends, is worth any price, including another two days of cleansing, which I am starting today.

If you have any questions about Steve Bentley or Bentley Coaching or Isagenix contact Steve at performancecoaching@sympatico.ca or by phone at 416.407.6361. You can also go to www.performancecoaching.infoseekdirect.com and www.cleansedforlife.com.

Oh Yeah! My After Picture...

Sorry, I forgot to take an "after picture" when I posted my post-cleanse results. And so, without further ado:

BEFORE:

Here's what I notice:

• My skin! Look at my rosy cheeks and bright eyes in the after pic
• My waist is a little smaller (it must be, I lost 2+ inches off it!) as is my bust (ditto on the 2+ inches there, too).

Other than that, I mostly notice the difference in how I feel. I tell ya, if 12 days ON Isagenix didn't convince me, 2 days off certainly did! Hubster and I were back at it on shake day today and with gusto! I bought a brand-new blender... (the old one broke...waaaah!) ...and happily whipped up our breakfast shakes.

Three Real Meals (And Day 10 Results)

One day. That's all I'm taking off . Today was Day Ten, as in, the first nine day cleanse period was over. Theoretically, I was supposed to go back to shake days (i.e. two Isagenix shakes per day, and one 400-600 calorie meal). But I was sooooo looking forward to eating again. So I decided I would. Not anything crazy, just three sensible meals. But three. actual. meals. It was going to be AMAZING.

Meh.

In the end, breakfast and lunch (blueberry muffin and ham/cheese panini respectively) weren't so great. Very disappointing, in fact. The best parts of my day were the apples & grapes, and the homemade thin-crust pizza I made for dinner. THAT was good. Oh! And coffee! MY. GOD. Truly. I cannot tell you how good a cup of coffee was. Funny, because it wasn't actually hard to give it up at all (although it was my biggest worry, when I started this Isagenix). But this morning? The second that beautiful black coffee hit my tongue I was in heaven.

But I actually have felt blah all day. My stomach feels absolutely stuffed, and since I didn't actually enjoy most of what I ate anyway, I don't feel like it was all that worth it. Plus, how I feel having finished the initial 9 days of the cleanse is sooooo incredibly worthwhile; that in itself is better than any "treat" food.

So. How did I do after the first 9 days on Isagenix?

I lost 10.2 pounds!
I lost 13.8 inches!

Here's to the next 21 days! And the next 30, and so on...

If you have any questions about Steve Bentley or Bentley Coaching or Isagenix contact Steve at performancecoaching@sympatico.ca or by phone at 416.407.6361. You can also go to www.performancecoaching.infoseekdirect.com and www.cleansedforlife.com.

OMG! I'm Going to be on TV!!!

And (below) more about the cleanse and how it's going.

Okay everybody...you saw it here first!

Yes, that is lil' ol' me featured in that commercial for urbanmoms.ca with freakin' DISCOVERY HEALTH CANADA! Can you imagine?

I am actually feeling rather conflicted about it, truth be told. You know...the before picture, after all. Good GOD! And how bad does my hair look in the after pic? I think it's the crop job the designers at Discovery Health had to do, but...wow. Can we say baaaaad hair, people?

Anyway, here's a little look at the original before & after pics:

Holy shiny forehead, Batman!

...and after...

This is what you get when your sister takes a picture of you on her phone. Not top-quality image resolution!

Anyway. So. There's a commercial. It's about me. And I'm a little nervous to see it out there on the airwaves. But, I am feeling super-good about where I am in my weight-loss journey right now, and that's a good thing.

CLEANSE UPDATE:

Well, I couldn't ignore the topic of Isagenix or cleansing since it created such a furor here yesterday! Thanks Margot, for raising all those questions (which I've asked myself, as well). I do have a lot of thoughts about the whole idea of cleansing, supplements and more and I plan to share them in a coherently argued post tomorrow. Today, however, I shall just tell you how the Hubster and I are feeling.

Hubster:

• Misses food (he's a foodaholic, like me, except worse) but he has really been able to embrace the strict rules of the 9-day cleanse. (I tend to like a little more wiggle-room in my regimens, personally).
• Notices some fatigue, but not really weakness. In fact, he has been outperforming himself at the gym (this guy tracks every rep and set he's ever done) - lifting more weight, doing more reps, etc.
• Increased stamina. He also tracks his cardio workouts on his training bike (heartrate monitor and all), and cracked a new high this morning on the bike with his maximum heart rate. He was very pleased, particularly because he was able to get his heart rate higher than ever while feeling better and not ever feeling like his lungs were going to give out.
• Has put on a pound or two since resuming the shakes & one meal regimen. But he's not sweating it. He'll wait and see what his Day 10 weight is on Saturday.

Me:

• Can't eat as much (quantity) at the one mealtime we get on shake days.
• Have the clearest skin EVER (since puberty, anyways).
• Am fatigued and weak.
• Had the best skiing day EVER IN MY LIFE on Sunday. Honestly...I've never been more "on" when it comes to this sport. I shocked Hubster at my ability to follow him down the worst that Sunshine Village has to offer (in-bounds, anyway...avalanche danger is off the scale right now) and still be right behind him pulling into the lift line. Normally he has to wait for me, but I even overtook and passed him a few times. Steeps, moguls, trees - I even caught air on multiple occasions. Nothing could stop me. NOTHING.
• Have also gained one or two pounds during these gluttonous shake days! Bring back the juice! (joking!)

All right...thanks for sticking with me this far. I'll check in with more stuff tomorrow. Until then, go read my latest post at This Is Kat.

This is Me. This is the Wall. This is Me Hitting the Wall.

Maybe it's because both my kids have been sick on and off for, oh, three solid weeks now? And maybe it's because I've caught the younger one's cold (which is bad enough for the doctor to refer her to the Children's Hospital). Or perhaps it's because I had a revolving door last night, with both my kids in and out: the older one nauseous, the younger one having trouble breathing. And then one got in bed with me for a few hours, taking over my pillow. I woke up on my stomach with my head to the side and a wicked headache.

Or maybe it's the Isagenix cleanse.

I guess we'll never know for sure, but I will tell you that I'm writing this dispatch from my bed with my computer on my lap because I feel that exhausted. Not hungry, not angry (like I did the first 2 days) but just, utterly wiped.

I am learning that hunger is less a physical sensation than a state of mind. On your second day of cleansing, after a few shake days, you kind of get used to it. It just becomes another feeling in your body, but not one you are going to immediately die from. Jen and I were talking this morning (by the way, having other people along on the journey...namely Jen and Hubster and super-coach Steve, is a massive, massive help) and we decided that hunger actually is a sensation that you can learn to live with.

I can see now why most cultures/religions have involved some sort of cleansing/fasting ritual. There is a certain power that you gain when you mortify the flesh, so to speak. It's a worthwhile lesson in our instant-gratification culture. You will not die if you don't eat for two days. In fact, you will come out the other side just a little bit wiser, stronger and cleaner. As we age and mature, we learn that it's not necessary to give in to every whim, and we develop a measure of self control...in most areas of our lives. Doing a cleanse (or fasting) gives us the chance to learn that this applies to our bodies, as well. You realize that you are in control, you do choose everything that goes into your mouth, and you don't have to feed your body every time that tummy gurgles.

So, I'm feeling a bit rough now, but I won't necessarily chalk that up to the cleanse. The Hubster is off at the gym now for a light workout...that's how good he's feeling. Oh, and it helps keep his mind off not eating! I'm going to get him to check his weight today (mine was 172.4 this morning) and I think we're supposed to our measurements again tomorrow. I'm curious to see, because I wore my snowpants out yesterday (yes, it's still -20 here) and they felt a wee bit looser than they had on Sunday - the day before I started Isagenix.

Until next time!

If you have any questions about Steve Bentley or Bentley Coaching or Isagenix contact Steve at performancecoaching@sympatico.ca or by phone at 416.407.6361. You can also go to www.performancecoaching.infoseekdirect.com and www.cleansedforlife.com.

Find out about a little-known illness that could strike your children at any time: Schoolaroostayhomeis.

After Day One

Well, I didn't eat the dryer lint after all, but I did have to resort to the snack that Coach Steve told me I could have if I was "really desperate": apple slices with a little bit of peanut butter. I was just sooooooo hungry. So I cut up an apple and gave each slice a thin film of pure, organic peanut butter.

I think it might have been the best thing I have ever eaten in my life.

But don't get me wrong. It's not that hard, all the time. There are good spots and bad spots...just as you'd expect. I mean, I never thought this was going to be easy. I'm just being proven right, is all! And one of the delightful suprises, so far, is the Isalean shakes. Since I'm just on the pre-cleanse days right now, I replace two meals daily (breakfast & dinner are recommended) with these shakes. And you know what? They're good. For real! They don't have that strong soy or whey flavour that so many "protein shakes" have. I've tried the chocolate and the vanilla now, and they are both actually very appetizing. And filling.

I'm just a little scared of the cleanse days...but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it!

For today, I did promise everyone some stats and my before picture, so here goes:

So. That's me at 176.8 lbs. (I'm 5'8", for what it's worth) Not too bad, is it?

At my lightest I weighed 158 - so that puts me 18.8 above my lowest weight which, actually, isn't as bad as I thought. Hubster and I took all kinds of different measurements, but I won't bore you with them here...some of it was really weird like the circumference of my neck or upper knees. Reminded me of teaching grade 6 science, when I totally freaked out the kids by demonstrating all the different congruences in their own body proportions...like the measurement of your inner forearm, from wrist to elbow, is the same as the length of your foot...

On a disturbingly related note, the circumference of my neck, at 13 inches, was exactly the same as that of my upper arm. Ewww! How fat are my arms?! And, to add to the weirdness, the left side of my body (arm, thigh, calf and yes, that all-important upper knee) is just the slightest bit bigger than my right. All to be expected...IN A LEFT-HANDED PERSON. But I am a rightie...ergo, my right side should be more developed. I think it's because Hubster booted me over to the left side of the bed (it's closer to the bathroom) when we got married. I used to always sleep on the right side. It's all his fault!

Okay, coming back to you now. I think I'm a bit lightheaded, maybe. It's time for my p.m. shake. For now, I'm going to sign off, but check in with me again soon because I promise to post updates A LOT.

Also tomorrow: update on my 2nd personal training session!

If you have any questions about Steve Bentley or Bentley Coaching or Isagenix contact Steve at performancecoaching@sympatico.ca or by phone at 416.407.6361.

And now for something completely non-cleanse related...check out my personal blog, This Is Kat.

ouch?

Okay, I know I'm late posting this, but I had to let you know that I did do my workout after all. How was it at home? Meh. Not quite the same as at the gym, most likely because the cardio aspect is lacking. The Hubster and I have toyed on and off with the idea of getting some kind of cardio machine at home, except we can't agree on which kind. I vote treadmill, he wants an elliptical. So...we have nothing, and I wasn't in the mood to run up and down the stairs 20 times, so the workout lacked cardio.

But! The rest got done, and well enough to make me sore! for yoga class on Friday!

I'll tell ya, doing the flow sequence was a new lesson in pain...those inner thigh muscles I just discovered after my first personal training session? They were a-screamin'!

Agley

You know, like the Robert Burns poem? The best laid plans of mice and men gang oft agley...

Well, my plans to get my workout in yesterday morning gang very definitely agley. First off, the Hubster's car had to go into the dealer for repairs, so he had to take my van to work; but he doesn't leave 'til 1pm so no bigs, really, still plenty of time to get to the gym, right? Under normal circumstances, yes. But yesterday was no normal day. I got a call from the Doctor's office asking to speak to my youngest daughter:

"Ahh...she's four-and-a-half, are you sure you want to talk to her?"

They didn't, actually. So they spoke to me. Test results back. Infection. Doctor wants to see her. Bring her here NOW!

I didn't exactly freak out. See, I already knew she had had an infection. Yes, two hads. As in, had, but no longer has. She was in the office two weeks ago Saturday, with a raging fever. Antibiotics were prescribed and taken. Now, 10 days later, I'm getting a call advising me that she has an infection? But anyway, in we went. It's all good.

Okay, home now. It's only 11:00 now. Still enough time (just) to go to the gym.

Ah, yeah. You know I have two kids, right?

I get home from the Doctor's office (it's close to home, so we walked) and there is no sign of the Hubster. Turns out he took a call from the school asking him to please come over and pick up his sick daughter.

Sigh. There go any plans I may have had to hit the gym.

But do not despair! All is not lost! 99% of my workout can be done at home. I have not one but two fit balls! And barbells, and tubing, and a coffee table that works admirably as a bench. I can do this!!!

But I didn't actually do it though. A bunch of things got in my way. Kids. Dishes. Laundry. Phone calls. Before I knew it, it was 9:30 and I couldn't keep my eyes open, never mind change into workout clothes and find my fit ball & tubing.

So tonight, I have to do this workout. 'Cause tomorrow is Yoga, then the weekend is full, and then it'll be time to meet with Shaun (my trainer) again, and I won't have done ANYTHING!

Okay? So this time tomorrow, I should be posting about how sore I am from this afternoon's workout. Right? Yes.

See you then. 

Have Trainer, Will Ache

Ouch! How sore is my butt right now? No wait...don't answer that question...

So, you may have guessed by now (oh, so clever you are) that I had my first session with my awesome personal trainer, Shaun, yesterday.

Today, I cannot stand up from a chair without pushing up with my arms. Like we all did way back when we were about 9.3 months pregnant? One, two, three...HOIST! Yeah. Like that.

Okay, clearly that is not me, nor did I use those barbells (I used 10lbs), but I did do that exercise!

I think the reason might be due in part to the 6,000 vertical feet of skiing I logged at Sunshine Village on Sunday. Then into the gym for a tough workout on Monday and, well...let's just say the one-legged squats in the Smith machine were a wee bit more challenging than they had any right to be.

But that doesn't really explain the full picture of my pain today. I am stiff, sore and tender in the following places:

• triceps (don't be touchin' my elbows!)
• deltoids (even putting on a shirt this morning was painful!)
• glutes (owie! sitting, standing, walking and - worst of all - climbing stairs!)
• quads (words do not exist to explain what has happened to my quads)
• some inner-thigh muscle that I cannot name and in fact did not know existed until it started to hurt this morning!

That about sums up the worst of the lot.

But ya know? I think it's a good thing. I'll be back in the gym for more Wednesday or Thursday, and I'm really looking forward to it. Shaun (a girl, fyi) has a way of motivating that is friendly but not slack, either. She's nothing like that nasty lady on The Biggest Loser, but she still manages to make me do just. One. More. Rep. Right when I thought my trembling muscles would give way, I somehow managed to dig deep and find one more. A rep that I wouldn't have bothered to reach for on my own was there for the taking with Shaun at my side.

I think I'll keep her!

Her and her fit balls, and strange things that look like a fit-ball amputated in half that you have to do push-ups on (left), and bars, and tubing, and weights and whatnot. We'll see what we can accomplish together.

And by the way, check out the Discovery Health Programming Highlights (at right). I happened to catch this particular show "Fat Men Can't Hunt" on the weekend and it was freakin' hilarious. The best is this old, toothless Namibian hunter who says, of one of the British women, "she is too fat. We will send her out in the desert to track. That will thin her out." And they did! Listen to me: YOU WANT TO WATCH THIS SHOW!

Catch more Kath over here.

20 Pounds and Counting

WEIGHT UP/DOWN THIS WEEK: +1.8
POUNDS TO GO TO GOAL: 21.8

There is, evidently, no justice in this world.

I went back on Weight Watchers program last week, and now, one week later, I actually weigh more than I did when I started. Oh! And I went to the gym three times - two aerobic workouts and a 90-minute yoga class.

See? No justice.

But I'm determined to lose that 20 pounds (getting closer to 25 with each passing day) once and for all, so I'm going try something different this time. That doesn't mean I'm giving up on Weight Watchers. No, it worked before and I have faith that it will work again, but I'm going to add in another element.

I'm going to get a personal trainer...

...in the vain hope that I will end up looking like this lady (yeah...RIGHT!)

I'm going to take a page from a few of those reality TV shows I love (X-Weighted, Taking It Off, The Last 10 Pounds Boot Camp) and get a person who actually knows what they're doing to kick my butt. When I had the opportunity to work with urbanmoms.ca's fitness expert, Susan, I realized what a huge benefit having one-on-one attention from an expert can be. Too bad I live over 3,000 km away from her!

I figure I can make it to the gym three, maybe four days a week. And I do my 90-minute yoga class on Fridays. I'll stay on Weight Watchers, ruthlessly counting every mouthful (I might have been a wee little bit slack on the tracking my first week back...you know; a few cashews here, finishing off my daughter's english muffin there...it does really add up!).

Taking a realistic estimate of 2 pounds per week, I hope to be at my goal in ten weeks. That would take me to March 19th. So. Ten weeks. I can do this!

Are ya with me? What's your goal? How are you getting there? Big moves (à la my new personal trainer) or small steps (à la tracking everything I eat on Weight Watchers)? Share below in comments and get the mutual support of all of us!

Hey, Kat's back! Check it out at Kath's other blog, This Is Kat.

Let Your Food Be Your Medicine

"Let your food be your medicine and your medicine be your food"
--Hippocrates

Remember the old saying "you are what you eat"?

You wanna be this?

Or this?

Yeah, I'll take the latter, too.

And really, wouldn't you rather eat this:

Than this?

I know I would.

And it goes beyond just the gross-out factor - I know that the above image of a slimy cafeteria burger, bun soaked in drippings, lettuce hot and wilty is not nearly as appealing as a hot hand-made burger with fresh toppings, like this:

But still. We really do have to think about what we're putting inside our bodies, and it's not just because it'll make us fat, but because it'll make us SICK.

Take a look at this list from WHO of modern-day afflications that call all be tied back -- at least in part -- to bad diet:

• obesity
• diabetes
• cardiovascular disease
• several forms of cancer
• osteoporosis
• dental disease

And the list goes on.

Still want that burger?

So...what. What are we gonna do? Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to try to consume a whole lot more fruits and vegetables, and a whole lot less highly processed, fatty and sugary foods.

Maybe not an easy challenge with the holidays hard upon us, but a healthy one nonetheless. Get a jump on those New Year's resolutions and resolve to make good, wholesome and moderate choices this holiday.

And if you happen to be sitting around, watching TV and feeling like a big fat lump on Boxing Day, check out You: On A Diet and You: The Owner's Manual (with Oprah's faves Doc Dr. Oz Dr. Roizen) on Discovery Health Channel Canada (Dec 26 5:00 p.m. EST and 6:00 p.m. EST respectively). You're sure to pick up some practical how-to tips!

Eleven Dozen Cookies, Dagnabbit!

Ahem.

I went to a cookie exchange party Saturday night.

Now I have ELEVEN DOZEN cookies in my pantry. Argh.

Sorry, no pictures of the cookies, oddly enough; just the guests getting silly. That's me on the right showing off my pot belly. UGH.
 

And they're all good. And one woman even gave us just the dough, so we could bake our cookies freshly at our convenience. She didn't know about my weakness for cookie dough. *help me*

So, I need a cookie avoidance strategy. Here are my preliminary thoughts:

1. Hide the cookies. Preferably in a place where I can't hear them calling my name anymore.
2. Freeze the cookies, so they can be taken out when appropriate (i.e. a holiday party, or such).
3. Give away the cookies.
4. Toss my the cookies. (Sorry, couldn't possibly resist.)

And here's why none of them will work.

1. HIDE THE COOKIES:
   Duh! I will know where I hid the cookies. The only way to make this one work is to hide the cookies and then suffer a self-inflicted closed head injury that permanently damages my memory. Or else bring in a third-party contractor (read: mercenary) cookie-hider. Either way, this one is unworkable because the cookies will eventually go bad and smell, then I'll find them and have to clean the mess. And I hate cleaning. Plus, if I do have a closed head injury, I likely won't remember that rotten moldy cookies can make you sick, so I might eat them. Better cross this one off the list just for my future memory-less health & safety.
2. FREEZE THE COOKIES:
   Well, duh again! Freezing anything sweet only makes it more appealing to me (to wit: frozen smarties, yum!). So scratch that on the grounds that it is even more dangerous than keeping the cookies in an open canister on the kitchen table with a fresh pot of coffee and a dessert plate beside it!
3. GIVE AWAY THE COOKIES:
   This is the only strategy that is even remotely possible. Except I hate to give people home-made things that I didn't make. (I am not a very good craft show shopper, as you might guess! I wander the tables and say, "I could make that..."). Anyway, call me shallow, but I don't want to give Karri's ginger spice cookies (as delicious as they are) to Laura and pass them off as my own. And what's the point in saying, "Merry Christmas Laura! Here are some cookies that Karri baked!" No thanks.
4. TOSS THE COOKIES:
   This would be painful. Not only are they all (yes, each and every one of them) delicious, but the other women in the exchange went to a lot of trouble to make them. And I went to a lot of trouble to make my 12 dozen exchange items. It would be such a waste to toss it all.

So, I turn to you, my faithful readers. Join in on the conversation in the comments below and let me know what you think I should do with the cookies - new and creative suggestions are very welcome!

And, if you just can't get enough, go read my post at Girls' Night (how big is your Holiday to-do list?) and my personal blog, This Is Kat.

Cheese...Chee-eese...

It calls my name, cheese does. I love it. I have a hard time resisting it's smooth, creamy, nippy, melty goodness. In fact, I can't think of a single food that is not improved by the addition of cheese.

And, you know, it's that time of year again, when my Hubster leaves his family so he can go and work 12 hours a day shoveling snow and building fences and generally exhausting himself for free as a volunteer courseworker at the Lake Louise Winterstart World Cup race.

And - knowing he'd be away - I bought me some o' this!

Cranberry Blue Cheese.

Num.

Mind you, I only bought a wee little package of it...nothing so magnificent as this gigantic ball.

It was...maahvelous.

But you wanna know what? Small victory: I only ate about half, which would be about 1.5 oz. Now that does translate to about 5 Weight Watchers points (not including crackers), but the thing is I would at one time have eaten the whole kit and kaboodle. This time? Meh. Not so much.

It's not that it wasn't splendidly delicious. It was. It's just...I ate it slowly...with a break in between bites. And after a few minutes, I was satisfied. So I put it away.

That is. So. Not. Me. I am the gorger; the one who keeps eating Salt & Vinegar chips after my tongue is bleeding (or feels like it is). The one who keeps eating cheese fondue even though my upper lip is sweating and I'm short of breath from my distended stomach pressing up on my diaphragm. In fact, I used to say (before binging alone actually became a real eating disorder) that I had half an eating disorder...I could binge, but I never purged.

So this...this is progress folks!

Metric Madness

LAST WEEK'S WEIGHT LOSS: 0.2 lbs

Yeah, yeah...enough already. That does say zero-point-two pounds lost. I know it's not that much, but cut me some slack, okay?

Given how much baking and candy madness overtook my house last week, it's amazing I didn't gain back the weight I lost the week before last (3.8 lbs in case you forgot!) and then some. So, pathetic as it may be, I'm mighty proud of my little zero-point-two. Two-tenths. Of a pound. Well, heck, that's 91 grams, which is nearly a whole kilogram, and goll-ly that sounds like something to celebrate!

Yes, you have now discovered that one of my many skills is the ability to twist a near-defeat into a resounding victory through the convenient application of the metric system! Such genius!

This so-called genius is also known as "self-delusion" to my husband, but I prefer to think of it as optimism. And hey, there's research to prove that optimists live longer than pessimists (19%, actually, which is nothing to sneeze at; especially in metric days!), so there, stinky! Put that in your pipe and smoke it! (What does that mean, anyway? It has a vaguely racist feel to it...anyone know the provenance of that old nugget and care to share? Enlighten us all!)

So the point of all this is that I'm not at all disappointed with my overall weight loss, especially if you take the last two weeks together, in which case my total loss is four pounds, and I'm averaging 2 pounds per week. I know, two weeks doesn't make much of a trend, but it's a start, and a step in the right direction. The other nice thing is that I'm now down 44 pounds overall from where I first started, which means I'm only 6 pounds away from hitting 50 pounds lost (again) and also less than 20 pounds away from my final goal.

Somehow, from here, 20 pounds doesn't seem all that bad. After all, that's only ONE stone, six pounds!

Hey, go check out my guest-post in Girls' Night this week, and read about my delicious encounter with a Buttery Irishman! And if you still want more, check out my other blog, This Is Kat.

Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On...

I spent the weekend in Toronto (I live in Calgary, but grew up in TO).

Without my children or husband!

I got together with Jen and Agathe (the three of us are the core urbanmoms.ca team) and we worked all day Saturday, coming up with some great ideas...but that's a story for another time.

What I want to talk about is Saturday night.

About filet mignon, merlot, the-best-I've-ever-tasted-garlic-mashed-potatoes and The Drowsy Chaperone. About intelligent conversation, sexy girl talk, great entertainment, laughs at someone else's expense and after-theatre drinks.

Do you know what it was like for me, a native Torontonian and live theatre-buff (amateur buff, but a buff nonetheless) to be transported to culturally-bereft Calgary (ye-es, Calgary, I KNOW you have a performing arts centre, a museum and a philharmonic -- a philharmonic that you almost lost because nobody bought tickets, remember? -- but it's not the SAME as living in one of the world's troika of theatre meccas - LONDON-NEWYORK-TORONTO - and within spitting distance of major world-class theatre festivals like Stratford and Shaw). Well, it was hard. Damn hard. The year I moved here (1998) everyone at work was sooooo thuper-excited because CATS (yes, CATS, rum-tum-tugger) was coming to the Jubilee Auditorium (yes, they DO actually call it an auditorium). CATS?  CATS??? I saw that in Toronto in 1986 and it had already been running in London for over 4 years.

But BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. You don't come here to listen to me get all sarcastic and superior, talking about The Theatah and quoting Shakespeare, do you?

No way. You come here because I write about my ongoing (and never-ending, it seems) battle to lose weight and keep it off. And it makes you feel better, either because:

A. You're already wonderfully (and effortlessly) skinny, toned and younger looking than you are, so you feel better about yourself because you don't HAVE to worry about your body shape, composition, size and increasing susceptibility to gravity, as I do. Good on you...(*cough*bitch*cough*)

B. You're right there with me, working at weight loss, occasionally being human and giving in to temptation and laziness but mostly living an increasingly healthly and active lifestyle.

C. You're wondering if that smack was you hitting rock bottom and if so, HOW did someone else manage to claw their way back out? And will the story be inspirational enough to motivate you to do the same?

Whatever; be you A, B, C or something I haven't thought of, you're welcome here and I hope you enjoy my very eclectic ramblings.

But to carry on with the theme...YES, I do enjoy good live theatre. I also happen to enjoy TV. Good, bad and otherwise. AND, what's more, I've found a lot of my own inspiration for weight loss from watching TV. I've also found it incredibly comforting to watch other people's real life weight loss struggles on TV. Now, there could be a few reasons for this. When I was cruising along at 2lbs per week, perhaps I felt superior to these mere mortals who overindulged in wine with their girlfriends on a Saturday night (hello, pot? This is my friend, kettle). But it also worked the other way. When I was feeling like a failure for eating 50g of baked Tostitos instead of only 40g, I could commiserate with the other folks on TV, or look to them as role models of saintly food abstinence and athletic vigour. I really, REALLY love watching reality weight loss shows.

But not just any old reality weight loss shows. To be honest, I wasn't able to stick it out with The Biggest Loser or Big Medicine. I dunno...maybe too big, too Hollywood. Honestly, my fave shows are the modest, unprepossessing Canadian home-grown weight loss reality shows. Give me another Canadian losing weight, and I'm hooked for the hour (or 10...I once watched a whole season of Taking It Off in marathon!). My two all-time favourite shows are X-Weighted (I have a friend who's currently being filmed for this show...more on her adventure in a future post) and Taking It Off.

But there are a whole bunch more great Canadian weight loss shows out there, and I'm making it my mission this month to watch as many of them as I can...to wade through them all and separate the wheat from the chaff as it were. I'll be tuning in to Discovery Health Channel Canada to catch all of the following shows:

X-Weighted
Eataholics
Change the Day You Die
The Truth About Food
Spa of Embarrassing Illnesses
Taking It Off
Get Fresh With Sara Snow
The Dan Ho Show

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What Odds?

I went to my weigh-in at Weight Watchers today, feeling slightly ambivalent.

On the one hand, I'd had a few dietary slip-ups in the preceding week.

On the other, I'd been to the gym several times.

I stepped on my home scale (a lying little digital bugger that switches back and forth between pounds and kilos for no apparent reason) and seemed -- against all odds -- to be down. But there's no telling for sure with my home scale.

I got to Weight Watchers just as the meeting was letting out (oops!), stepped on the scale and...

...weighed EXACTLY the same as I had last week, right down to the 3/10ths of a pound!

What are the odds?

Overheard On My Telephone Line

Jen: Hello?

Me: Convince me to go to the gym.

Jen: GO TO THE GYM.

Me: But it's cold outside...

Jen: But it's warm at the gym.

Me: Yeah, you're right. Plus I ate a cookie yesterday.

Jen: ONE cookie?

Me: Well, and a bag of chips.

I went to the gym.

Of Tutus and Tap Shoes (Or How I Discovered I Am SOOOOOO Done!)

I took my four-year old to her first dance lesson of the season last Thursday. This year we took a step up from the community centre dance lessons and enrolled her in an actual, for-real dance studio. It's an introductory ballet & tap class, and the studio is exactly like what I remember from my years and years of dance lessons. There is specific attire required, right down to the brand and model number. So, not just a pink leotard (bodysuit, to you non-dance types) but very specifically a Mondor "true pink" leotard, style # 1645. The tights must be ballerina pink and also microfibre (more expensive than the already expensive traditional Mondor tights - are the studios getting a kickback?) There are also very specific requirements for shoes, and even the "optional" skirt (if worn) must be style #6207.

Don't get me wrong; I don't mind this. I expect this. I danced until my teens, so I'm well used to the requirement for specific attire, right down to the brand. Ballet is all about blending in with your fellow dancers, with only your talent and effort to help you stand out from the crowd. That's the culture of a dance studio and, right or wrong, I must have liked it enough to keep on signing up for ballet (and other dance) lessons year after year.

What got me about this year's dance lessons was not the studio or the teacher, but my experience in the waiting room. Since the class is only 45 minutes long, I decided to stay in the studio and just wait for my daughter in the waiting room (parents are only allowed to watch on designated days - again, no biggie, it's a dance thing). I brought my laptop along and was pleased to find an open wireless network near enough that I could get online. I did a little bit of work, and counted the time well-spent.

As an aside, my husband pointed out that my 45 minutes would have been better spent working out at my gym which is (conveniently) located right next door to the dance studio. Uh...yeah. I fed him a line about wanting to be available for the first class, which he didn't buy, and mentally promised to go to the gym next time. So that's this week gang...hold me to it!

Anyway, back to the waiting room. I was overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed, by the 4 or so other mothers in the room. Why? They came with their...TODDLERS. Ouch. Toddlers who crawled around EVERYWHERE, including underneath my seat while I was sitting in it (which elicited a hairy eyeball from the mother...hello? How was I in the wrong there, when your under-supervised child crawled under my seat on which I was perched?) One little guy knocked over my coffee mug (mercifully the lid was closed and is waterproof) not once, not twice, but three times (shiny stainless steel fetish maybe?). And another little girl kept trying to play with the little bead toy (you know those abacus-like things that seem to be in every waiting room), only to be pushed out of the way by another little boy. This elicited repeated fits of inarticulate toddler fury, at top volume. A different little girl kept climbing up on her mother's lap and then sliding down her legs. Of COURSE she ended up falling on her head and then - the deathly quiet pause - the one, two, three caught breaths and - wait for it - WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

It was only when I finally relaxed behind the wheel of my van on the drive home that I realized how completely intolerant I'd been. I mean, after all, it was only 3 years ago when it would have been (actually, was) me in that waiting room, with my older daughter taking the dance class and my now four-year old crawling/toddling around causing loud, obnoxious mischief that I happily ignored in favour of adult conversation. And such conversation! The moms last week were all abuzz with talk of the first day of preschool. One mom wants to find a new preschool for her daughter because the daughter said "I didn't have a very good day, Mom" after her FIRST. DAY. EVER. I felt like telling her they don't split the atom until second year preschool, so not to worry about it for now ;) And another mom, talking about her own daughter's first day of preschool said, "my husband and I were saying that this is just a preview of what it's going to be like when she goes away to university." I had to put my head down so they couldn't see my smile.

You see, I know I was like that just a few years ago. It's a bit of an oxytocin haze, but I vaguely remember deathly serious conversations about preschool, as if we were at the United Nations brokering a peace deal for the Middle East. Now, with the benefit of a few years' perspective, I find it kind of cute and yes, annoying. I do see myself in those women, but I'm so glad I'm not there anymore.

When I got home from dance lessons I told the Hubster, point blank, that any biological inklings I might have once had for just one more pregnancy were officially dead. I do love pregnancy and babies, but toddlers...no, I wouldn't do that a third time.

And that's the tale of how I discovered that, indeed, I am done. Soooooooooo done!

Back to School, Back to Weight Watchers...

...yup, you read that right. I went back to Weight Watchers (last week, actually). Why? Well, let's just say the pants were getting a little bit tight and I decided it was time to get back on track. Not only did I need a bit of help and support getting back into the old size 10s, but I felt very strongly that I should still work to achieve my original weight loss goal. Back when I joined Weight Watchers, I found out that for my five feet eight-odd inches and thirty-eight years, my healthy weight range is between 132 and 158.

My first reaction was that it was unrealistic. I had spent soooo many years pushing two hundred pounds (and the last three had been spent wavering between 215-225 lbs) that I really thought it would be best to shoot for around 185 pounds. My friends and family agreed that this was a realistic target, so I set out on a mission to lose about 30 pounds.

That's me at around 215 or so...

Once I got going, though, I realized that I would be able to hit that first goal and sail right past it, and so I did. Before I knew it, I was down to 165 lbs (just before Christmas) and managed to push past it to my all-time best of 158 - the exact top of my range! By this time, I had mentally set myself a goal of 150 lbs, and felt so close to hitting my goal and then achieving lifetime member status that I could almost taste it. And then, somehow, things went off the rails. I started skipping meetings, and then just stopped going altogether. Slowly, slowly my newly acquired healthy eating habits melted away, releasing the beast (who never went away) lurking beneath the veneer.

After losing about 40 pounds, here I am at roughly 175. And yes, I am posing with a dinosaur...don't ask.

For the longest time, I maintained at around 165 lbs. I felt (and looked) good. My clothes still all fit. I was satisfied. Then one day this summer, I realized that my size 10 capris were, simply put, too tight. Not just fresh-out-of-the-dryer too tight, either, but well and truly too tight because I had started to get fat again. I resisted stepping on the scale, because I dreaded what it would say. I knew I had pushed back up into the 170s, and feared that I would find myself even in the 180s. As with the last time I joined Weight Watchers (May 2006), it was my husband who nudged me into it, with a "we can't keep on like this" comment (he'd gained back a similar percentage of the weight he'd lost as well). So, last Saturday, back I went, rejoined, and weighed in again.

The number was in the high 170s, but I'm not focusing on that. I'm going to take a page out of my Weight Watcher's Leader's book. Her remark to me when I got back on that scale, ten pounds heavier, was to say, "Well, that's wonderful. You've lost 41 pounds overall. Way to go! And welcome back." And that's how I choose to look at it...not as a failure (gaining 10 pounds this summer) but as a success (losing 41 pounds this year) and the next step in my ongoing journey. This time I plan to stick it out and get that lifetime membership!

Me at about my best...around 160 with Haley-O (very early on in her pregnancy!)

My first week back was both easy and difficult. I found day three to be tough again - the motivation is leveling out and the hunger peaks (for me, at least). But I stuck it out, stayed on program and ate all my points (including all 35 discretionary points) and, when I went for my week one weigh in was rewarding with a whopping four pound loss! I know I won't sustain that rate of weight loss, but it sure is motivating and drives home the point that this is a program that works really well for me and - most importantly - fits well into my life.

And this past weekend, in the too-tight pants...

As my husband said, "we're going to be on Weight Watchers for life. That's just how it's got to be." Hear hear!

Thank You

A great big smoochy thank you to all you wonderful urbanmoms.ca readers for your heart-warming response to my last post. You know, it's at times like these that I marvel at the support and encouragement we women/moms can offer each other. Just when I was down low in the deepest of doldrums, you came and offered me words of encouragement, acceptance and understanding. And I thank each and every one of you for it. And not only the peeps who wrote comments, but those behind the scenes who came and read and empathized silently.

To update y'all, I have been doing reasonably well...well, since the weekend, that is. Okay, to be clear...I did great until Thursday, when I found out my little one had broken her arm at summer camp. We spent the supper hour (and several more) running about between our family doctor, the X-ray clinic and the emergency room at the Alberta Children's Hospital. Read all about it here.

The upshot was that I just grabbed a sandwich at McDonald's for dinner on Thursday. Then Friday. Well, Friday we were rushing around getting the car loaded up for our drive up to Edmonton (well, St. Albert, really) to visit family friends. So naturally we had pizza, because who had time to cook with all that packing to do? Then there was the visit with friends, a delicious big breakfast (bacon was involved) on Saturday, 6-inch sub for lunch (not bad) and dinner (shared three ways) at a noodle place. Add on a bag of popcorn (yes, I had topping) and some other munchies throughout the day, and, well, you get the picture. Sunday we picked up a sandwich at Tim's on the way home (again, not so bad except mine came with a donut...ooops...well, at least I didn't have an Ice Cap!) and some munchies (lordy, do I have a soft spot for Salt & Vinegar chhips) and before you know it, all the good work of the week before was tossed out the window somewhere between Leduc and Red Deer. As you can see from the pic at left, though, all is not lost - I can actually wear shorts again (those have been missing from my wardrobe for many years). FYI, that's me at the Alberta Legistlature in Edmonton...they have this amazing water park with fountains, waterfalls and stepping stones, and all for people (aka kids, really) to get out and enjoy on a hot day...and we did!

But, you know what? Monday was a new day and I decided to turn over a new leaf. Today is end of day Tuesday and I just finished my bedtime snack of an apple. Things are looking up!

Getting My Butt In Gear

So, yesterday I got the message slammed home to me as only the brutal honesty of a large group of young children could manage! I've been sailing along for the last few weeks, not gaining weight, but not losing it either. It's called a plateau, ya know? Well, I didn't give it a whole lot of worry - I guess after 19 (almost) weeks I've gotten a bit complacent.

Not so my nearly 6-year old daughter! Yesterday she taught me two incredible lessons. How? By doing the Terry Fox Run with her school. BTW, she's the one in the middle of the photo at left, wearing green (her fave colour), and givin' 'er 200% - I say 200% because they were supposed to do three laps and she pumped out six!

But that's not the best part. Yesterday morning as we left for school she asked, "do we have money for Terry Fox?" "Sure", I said, going for my purse. Her reply? "No, wait Mommy...I want to give some of my own money".
ME: "Are you sure? Then you won't be able to get that Webkin you've been saving for this weekend." [she's been saving her $2 allowance for 5 weeks to get a new Webkin]
HER: "Yup. Actually, I want to give ALL my money!" as she empties her piggy-bank.
ME: "Well, that is very generous, but then you'll have to save again for another six weeks to get a Webkin. Are you sure?"
HER: "Yes, I think Terry Fox is more important than Webkinz."

WOW. How do you put in words how proud you are of your child when she does something like that? You just can't. But I tell you what...I made it to that Terry Fox Run (I had previously told her I couldn't make it). I had to take pictures (scrapbooking compulsion) so that I could record this memory forever! And you know what else? I ran around that field with her, too.

And so what did my daughter and her schoolmates teach me?

1. There is no price on health. Give all your money to the Terry Fox Foundation, then run your heart out. You never know: one day you might not be able to anymore.
2. Never settle for the status quo. When the teachers were rounding the students up after their mandatory 3 laps, some of the kids didn't want to stop. They wanted to keep going: "there's seven minutes left..." they heard, and so some of them (my daughter included, thank you) asked for permission to keep going, and doubled their laps.

So now the onus is on me (BIG TIME!) to live up to my amazing nearly six-year old. WOW. Humbling, eh? So...I have nearly one day left before my weekly WW weigh-in at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow, and I'm going to use it to get my butt in gear...I'm going to work out and I'm going to feed my body mindful of the precious gift a healthy body really is.

And let's hope I never forget the lessons I learned yesterday from a child.