This blog concept isn't all that bad; even if I don't post, during the day I find myself thinking of what I might say, were I posting. And today what has been revealed is that I don't actually have much to say on the diet/weight loss front. Other than creating this blog in the spirit of comradeship with my brother and his girlfriend, I don't have an actual plan to become thinner. Just desire (but how much desire, really, if I’m not willing to make the extra effort? When did I get so lazy? No, I’m just insanely sleep-deprived from having had two kids in three years… or at least that is the excuse I keep dragging out). Now my brother, he has a plan - something that looks like one. Reading the itemization of his daily food intake and his daily workouts shows me he will in fact accomplish his goal of losing 15% of his current weight....his weight loss is occurring at this very moment! I don't have a plan, I'm not counting calories (I NEED to check out that Calorie King thing they downloaded for me), I haven't yet figured out how to exercise regularly with the kids in tow, and so it is no surprise I have little faith in actually accomplishing any weight loss. This loser mentality has brought me to where I am today...getting fatter by the minute. So what does a plan look like? Even the idea of writing down everything I eat seems hardly feasible... I'm snacking constantly with the kids (often good stuff like fruit and veggies and pasta, often the ends of juice boxes, leftover pieces of cheese…a big ol’ Mom-Vacuum inhaling the remains) and I rarely find time for a normal sit-down meal where I can actually relax and truly have a satisfying eating experience. But once the kiddos are in bed, I'm "rewarding" myself with those insidious little spoonfuls of Nutella and its evil ilk. Not that the current jar will be a temptation much longer - I'm fast making a dent in it and chances are good that by tomorrow it will be gone. I have implored you-know-who to NEVER ever buy that evil stuff again. And it is so falsely satisfying… it always seems like it will hit the spot, but it gives me a sickening sugar high, bad skin the next day, and actually makes me feel lousy. So why oh why do I eat it? Is it a drug and I’m an addict? Is it all those childhood years of having chocolate locked away from me and sneaking it whenever I could? And now am I stooping so low as to blame others? Satisfaction is a big issue – I’m reasonably certain (let’s say, I have hope) that if I ate balanced meals with a good ratio of proteins, healthy fats, and carbs, I would feel much less UN-satisfied and perhaps those irrational cravings for Nutella would subside.
But where was I? I haven't yet figured out if blogging is like writing an email to one's self, writing a mini-book, keeping a diary (but who, really, would expose their diary to the entire world? Oops, hello? everyone!)... I don't really know who my audience is... should I care? Actually, I'm assuming that it is an audience of two: my brother and his fiancee. Maybe I'll fool myself into thinking that and stop digressing...
A plan, a plan. Well I saw my friend Elissa yesterday and she looked fantastic... in the last several months, she beamingly admitted to me, she has lost 50lb with Weight Watchers… She did it! She is living proof it can be done...and she lost more weight than I'm even wishing to lose. She counts points, she exercises. Done. Well, I'm sure it has taken enormous, perhaps unfathomable, willpower and determination.
Willpower – I think I’m lacking in that department. So often it has been suggested, “Don’t deny yourself, just limit yourself. Just have one piece of really good chocolate, not ten cheap cookies!” To this date, I have never been able to resist. If there are cookies or crackers or ice cream (or god forbid, a pie with the name rhubarb) in the house, they call to me in my sleep. I think about them first thing in the morning. They taunt me. The lure me. And in the end, I always cave…. No willpower whatsoever (in this regard, at least)…how sad.
A plan... why do I want to lose weight? Of course to be able to fit in my clothes - to look nice in my clothes (I know I’d look fantastic if I lost 35lbs). To get back to the "old" me. To feel good. To be healthy. To start training myself to live a healthy lifestyle so that I'll be around a long, long time for my kids. My poor, poor back with its herniations, protrusions, bulges and naughty little discs wiggling out of place NEEDS me to lose this extra 30-40lbs. Now, when I'm carrying my chubby "little" thirty-pound 18 month old, I'm literally hauling around a total of 60 to 70 extra pounds... and doing so with flabby abdominal muscles. Yes, writing this down does indeed help. I'm so sorry poor back of mine... how cruel I have been to you!
So a plan... I've got to come up with a plan. It is mathematical, isn't it? Just count the calories taken in and burned. Ah, so simple sounding... well, I'd be an idiot not to start right now... so I'm off to read that Calorie King and see if I can somehow reconstruct what I ate today and what it all adds up to... I'm sure the numbers will be shocking -- something like needing to run for 1 year straight in order to burn off the calories from that last half jar of Nutella. I'll let you (whoever you really are... maybe me?) know... and sorry, poor back, so sorry.