My fat has a name

I've been watching the Dr. Oz show during my workouts at the gym. And some when I get home and do ab work. Although, I'm starting to think that's a bad idea. He has a segment where he shows what kinds of bacteria or diseases or bugs are on your everyday items - like the remote control (enterococcus - fecal matter), mattress (dust mites eating your dead skin), and the bottom of your purse (some other coccus thingie that I can't remember but causes asthma, yeast infections, meningitis and other bad things). It's painful to watch. It makes me not want to sleep at night. I should probably skip that segment.

But I disgress. Another segment deals with weight loss. He's had several morbidly obese people on that he will hopefully help. He's got some great tips. Did you know that by adding Brewer's Yeast to your popcorn, you gain protein, vitamins and help regulate your glucose levels? And, this is when I found out that my fat has a name.

Omentum - the greater and lesser. There is an organ attached to the stomach that stores fat so your stomach has easy access to it when it needs it. Like when I'm starving - not! There is a lesser omentum and a greater omentum. Mine is definitely Greater! When Dr. Oz showed the audience what it should look like, it was like a lacy flat yellowish thing. That was the omentum of a skinny person. (You know where this is going.) The omentum in an overweight person? Big, fatty, bumpy, gross. The omentum is behind your stomach, so as you store fat (like the 30 extra pounds I'm carrying) it gets bigger and pushes your organs out of the way. That might explain the stomach pain.

Stress can also enlarge your omentum. Another good reason not to fret over that piece of chocolate.

Can my omentum get smaller? I'm hoping. Because now that I know it's in there, I'm determined to get it flat, along with my stomach. Ew. Hard to believe that in my 39 years, I have never heard of the omentum fat organ. Fat organ. I think that will be my new nickname.

*(*&#*&^(@*&^%@%@%*$&^)#(*^(*$&

That's about how I feel. I am &%*&(($*%& MAD. Once again, it is the scale. I have been nothing but good for the last two days. Felt pretty good about myself yesterday, I was down 13 pounds. Felt like I was actually getting somewhere, finally! I've been bouncing around the same numbers for two weeks and WOW, here was a new one.

Cut to this morning. Feeling all good. Know I've been good, made good choices. Get on the scale.

What the F***?

Again, there is it. That stupid number I really don't ever want to see again. The one that has been haunting me for the last two weeks. WHY? WHY? WHY? I'm asking. Why? I don't get it? Am I not eating enough? Does my body think I'm starving? Stupid body. Isn't it obvious we're not starving here? Can't you tell from all the extra fat stores that we wouldn't start wasting away at least until we've been out of food for a month. Come ON! Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I'm calm now. Sorry about the rant. Really, it makes no sense. I will probably eat some chocolate today. Have wine with dinner. Go a little nuts in the snack department. And then tomorrow, the scale will be down again and I'll have learned that I do better when I cheat than when I'm eating right. Crazy.

Wine? Anyone have some wine? I could probably use it about now...

Saboteur

I'm writing this blog now so I can keep from running into the kitchen and eating anything not nailed down. I'm not hungry. I have no need for food. I just want it.

Watching TV is some kind of food desire hypnosis. I don't even have to see an ad for Wendy's or Dove Chocolates or Applebee's latest food offereing. Just the act of watching TV makes me want to grab a bag of chips. Or sip a soda. Or munch on something...maybe a pencil, if I could find one.

I am sabotaging myself. I am bouncing around from pound to pound, with nary another one lost. That's kind of poetic. I finally get on the bandwagon, the weightloss train, start working out, eating right, feeling good and I just can't seem to lose more weight. It's been a month. I think that's about how long you need to do something to make it a permanent part of your routine. I've got the routine down, I just keep fudging a bit.

A little Graeter's here. A little cookie there. A bit of chocolate in my hand. It all adds up. I know this. I get it. But I'm just weak.

It's back to the gym tomorrow. I feel like I've been lazy this weekend. Only a little bike ride on Saturday and walking around the market. Nothing major today. I guess it's my day of rest. I've rested enough. Back to work.

If all else fails, I'm moving on to another "program." Grapefruit diet, anyone?

No fun

Can't a girl have some fun? Really, just a little? A dinner out? Some hummus and whole grain pita chips? And, o.k., some really good chocolate cake with gooey, pecan encrusted frosting. But, that was an afterthought. A big afterthought. Twice.

Fine, I cheated. I splurged. I went a little crazy last night. It started with a trip to Applebee's. The hubby is gone for a conference (coming back tonight) and I took the kids out to eat. Thought it might be something fun to do, plus then I wouldn't have to do dishes. And I had been cleaning all day, so that's fair, right?

I was trying to figure out what to order. They have some Weight Watchers items on their menu, but one time I got a salad that was pretty tasteless. I went my Chicken Fajita wrap route. Chicken, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes. Not too bad, but not the best choice. I only ate half.

Yeah, yeah, wait for the applause...it came with fries. I thought, I'll only eat a few. Have you eaten Applebee's fries lately? Oh, my. Very good. Delicious with ketchup. I got a little carried away. Probably ate more than half, more than I should have. Fine. I paid for it, with a very full stomach. And it most likely didn't help that I also drank two huge glasses of diet coke with that. Free refills. Who can argue? I should have.

Should have. That seems to be my mantra. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. But I didn't. I think it was a set-up. All that diet soda was just BEGGING for company. After we got home, I remembered the Texas sheet cake from this weekend. I froze large sections of it so I wouldn't have it sitting on the counter mocking me. Good thing was it was gone from my sight. Bad thing...it was frozen, so it wasn't getting moldy so I'd have to throw it out.

Did you know that you can eat frozen cake out of the freezer? Seriously, no wait. It tastes wonderful. I know...bad.

I put the kids to bed and started reading. That's a good distraction. Then the hummus started calling me. I know it's hard to imagine. It's all the way in the fridge, there are a few steps from the couch to the fridge, there was the book, the TV, really I shouldn't have been able to hear it at all. But I did. Calling me, teasing me, telling me bad things that made me want it.

Fine. I ate the hummus. Grabbed the Stacy's MultiGrain pita chips (again, not feeling righteous, but they were whole grain...but still fried...right?) and went to town. Pretty sure I ate more than two tablespoons worth. And that stuff if fattening. I know they're just garbanzo beans, but it's mostly fat.

Once I polished those off (I did leave a few chips in the bag), my distended stomach was begging for more. Stupid stomach. Doesn't know to leave a good thing alone. I had more cake. Another sliver. O.K., big sliver. Do you see the madness? The decent into pure food madness? It was a feeding frenzy. I couldn't stop myself.

Well, I could have. I'm just weak. And now it shows on the scale. I gained three pounds overnight. Is that even possible?

It's going to be a long, painful day. I just finished my trough of egg whites, so I should be on the right track to get back to healthy eating. Thing is, I thought I was eating healthy, up until last night. I guess it doesn't balance out when you go whole hog on a dish of hummus.

Here's to better eating.

Oooey, Gooey, Sticky Mess

I am the creator of my own messes. I am a mastermind of self-destruction. I am...a baker.

My son was crazy yesterday, wanting to do something. But everything he wanted to do involved something we didn't have or something we didn't have time for. So, I resorted to baking. He wanted to bake cupcakes with frosting. I talked him into Texas Sheet cake.

Why would I think that was a better choice than cupcakes, I'm not sure. It was a Cooking Light recipe. A bit better than the original, but still a stick and a half of butter in the 10 X 15 pan. I used some organic whole wheat pastry flour and natural cane sugar in place of the white sugar. But, still, it's sugar.

It's chocolate, which is my Kryptonite, my downfall. I just can't stop. I should be able to take one little slice, enjoy it and be done. But I can't. I had my piece. And another small one. And another. And some frosting from the side of the pan. And this morning, I had some more. Already. It's not even noon yet. Even with waking up with a sugar headache this morning, you'd think I could control myself, but no. It's chocolate. I get weak, my head gets fuzzy and suddenly I'm struggling to regain consciousness.

Maybe it's better if I don't bake. It's too easy to make ooey, gooey, sticky cakes, cookies, bars, brownies. There are so many yummy options out there. I think it was the curry. We had chicken curry for dinner. So sweet, almost like candy with a kick. Am I doomed to just never taste sugar again, ever? Cold turkey. It seems like the only way. What a mess.

On the positive side, I'm now down 11 1/2 pounds. Not too shabby. Now if I can just keep away from the sheet cake...

Exercise blues

I'm doing it. Don't go there, filthy people.

I'm exercising. Our gym finally opened and I'm back at it. Doin' the elliptical, the recumbent bike, the ski machine, lifting weights. I can barely type this, my arms are so sore. Don't even think about touching me. I hurt in places I didn't even know could hurt. At least sitting down doesn't hurt. That is the worst feeling. Can't even sit on the toilet without wincing. I've been there. But that was when I had a really great teacher who worked us to shreds. We looked good. We worked hard. I want to get back there. Maybe.

I've lost 11 pounds so far. And holding. It's a slow road now. Those first few days where I was losing all that water weight. That was fun. Now, it's torture. But at least I'm not hungry.

Had veggie soup with a little pesto stirred in for lunch, along with cherry tomatoes from my garden with fresh mozzarella balls and I'm supposed to eat a salad that has some roasted chicken in it, sunflower seeds, carrots, peps and lettuce. I'm full. Think I may save the salad. Is that even possible? To be full?

I think it was all the contraband crackers I had last night during wine night. Bad, bad influence, you wine ladies. Too much wine, lots of laughing and some crackers. I'd say it was a good night!

Weighing crap

This post is going to be gross. I'm just warning you. Just in case you are eating or thinking about eating or just finished eating. Which is where I am most of the day. You've been warned.

It's day....what day is it? How long have I been doing this crap? This eating right and eating veggies first and being good? How long? Right, three weeks, I think. I have lost and gained the same pound over the last week and half. I am getting frustrated. I'm a making deals with myself and the universe. I am getting on the scale naked, like my 1 ounce nightgown will make a HUGE difference in how much I weigh each morning. It's all a mind game.

And so, we come to the gross portion. It's a crazy busy morning. I got up to weigh myself first thing. Same stupid number staring at me that has been staring at me for the last week (give or take a half pound - up, down, up, down). I go back to bed, deflated. When I finally do wake up, it's after 7. We're late.

Kids get up, drag themselves downstairs and get breakfast. Or more like, I get them breakfast while they ponder what to pack for lunch. I haven't eaten breakfast because I'm trying to calm down my oldest who freaked out when she saw what time it was when she got up (for the record, she was out the door, dressed, with her lunch packed on time). I start packing lunches and decide it's time for a trip to the bathroom. You know, the morning constitutional, as my husband says. Maybe it's a different time of day for you. But mornings are productive here.

Usually I have eaten my breakfast by now. You can't weigh yourself after you've eaten breakfast. That's not allowed. You might weigh a whole pound more with those four egg whites and few sips of water sitting like a lead weight in your stomach. But this morning, I haven't eaten. I do my duty. (I'm trying to be cool here.) I think, well, that was surely worth something off at the scale. Do you feel the desperation here? I get on the scale, naked of course. Close my eyes, wishing, wishing, wishing for some sign that I am doing things right...and Whammo, sure enough, half a pound gone. Seriously. Half a pound of crap. That's a lot of crap. (I told you it was going to be gross).

But I'll take it. I need it. Just that one half pound put me past another ten pound mark. I'm in a different bracket now. I'll take it, no matter how gross it is. That is my half pound I earned.

Now I'm off to the gym. Maybe I can sweat more off. I'll see tomorrow.

And again, apologies for the gross content. Really, you can't make this shit up! hee, hee.

Yo-Yo-Yo-Yo

Tuesday: Lost ten pounds, yippee. Write blog. Feel great.

Wednesday: Gained a half pound. WTF? How did that happen? Official lost 9 1/2 pounds. Feel deflated. Still eat well anyway.

Thursday: Damn stupid half pound still there. Pissed. Angry. Not blogging.

Friday: Half pound gone. Yippee. Ready to go, workout, do something. Nobody wants to workout with me. Instead I clean.

Saturday: Didn't weigh myself. Too busy. Figure I won't like it anyway.

Sunday: Gained a stupid pound. How does that happen? This Skinny program tells you to weigh yourself every day. I know, it makes sense to see how you fluctuate, but a pound? I'll be good today. I promise. Eat good, be good, weigh good. Stupid scale.

Yo-yo-yo-yo-yo. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

WhooHOO

Well, I've done it. The first milestone. Ten pounds lost. WhooHoo! Let's party.

Or not.

It's not making a huge difference, at least regarding my clothes selection, but I can tell that I feel better. And I'm definitely eating better. Funny thing about it is, it doesn't feel like a diet. I feel like I can eat things I want (not the poptarts, though, those are evil) and still do well. I'm eating a variety of things. I'm filling up on soup and salad and then eating the other stuff if I'm not full already. And, amazingly enough, I am almost always full.

So, that was it. Had to post. Nothing else exciting to say. Just wanted to say it 10 pounds lighter.

Oh, and here's a lovely picture of the Fillapia (as my son says) that we had on Sunday. Even he ate it. That, in itself, is an accomplishment!