Trying to Get Back on the Wagon

Man… it has been a rough few weeks when it comes to my health/fitness.

My weight has continued to go up, week over week, and my sweets-cravings are through the roof. I am a STRESS eater and I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Candy has become my best friend …and the worst enemy of my waistline.

I’ve promised myself I won’t weigh-in until Friday, but I can tell you the scale and I did NOT have a pleasant interaction this morning. I worked out 5x last week, but I also indulged in tons of cookies and salty snacks – more than I could cancel out with even the most intense workout.

I’m hoping that one week of rigid discipline will get me back on track, so I’m going to post my calories/meal plan on here for accountability and to try to keep myself on track.

Here’s my food plan for the day:

2am: Quest Cookies and Cream Protein Bar (180 calories)

5:30am: Two OIKOS Plain, Fat Free Greek Yogurt Cups (160 calories)

9am: 100 Calorie BetterOats Oatmeal and 1 cup Blueberries (170 calories)

12pm: 2 cups raw spinach, 3 oz Oscar Mayer Rotisserie Chicken, 1 cup sliced carrot chips, Spicy Guacamole (224 calories)

3pm: Sugar Free Chocolate Muscle Milk (100 calories)

5:30pm: Natural Almonds Snack Pack (100 calories)

8pm: Grilled Chicken Breast and Stir-Fried Veggies (approx 280 calories)

By eating every few hours, I anticipate never feeling “out of control” with my hunger and I’m hoping to quell sweets cravings by snacking on fruit (blueberries) and chocolate protein shakes.

If I can stick to this diet all day (I’m good so far — as of my 9am meal), I will allow myself a 90-calorie Chocolate Pear Squeeze Treat (sooooo good). If I hit the gym (as planned) and do at least 30 minutes of cardio, I’ll swap out the Chocolate Pear Squeeze Treat for one of the 150-calorie Paleo Brownies I made last week. 🙂

It’s all about compromise, preparation, and holding myself accountable this week. Wish me luck!

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori



Don’t Freak Out

I’m trying to keep myself calm. I’m trying NOT to freak out. I got on the scale this morning and it’s WAAAAY up.

Five pounds up.

I’ve done a lot of exercise lately (I ran for 2 hours, 45 minutes on Friday alone) and a lot of strength training, so I know most of the weight is the result of muscle fatigue and lactic acid back-up.

I’ve also consumed a lot of salt lately, polishing off a gigantic bowl of Vietnamese Pho on Saturday like it was my job:


This was a picture taken HALFWAY through the bowl. Yeaaaaah, I finished it.

This was a picture taken HALFWAY through the bowl. Yeaaaaah, I finished it.

I’m trying not to believe that these five pounds are real, but the numbers terrified the snot out of me this morning.

I admit, I’ve been eating a TON of candy lately.

I haven’t limited myself to one Cadbury egg this week; I’ve had 2-3 daily most of this week. I believed my extra workouts entitled me to it (which they did, I guess, if my goal was to cancel out my exercise with food) and now I’m trying to assure myself that I haven’t gained five pounds from chocolate.


Don’t freak out. Don’t purge. Don’t lose control.

I’m guzzling water and coffee today. I’m avoiding salt. I’m praying for a miracle tomorrow.

~ Tori


I don’t exactly know how I did it, but I did.

For those of you that actively follow this blog, you may have noticed the long radio silence the past few weeks. I’ve gone almost 17 days without a post on here. While I do regret the lack of writing activity, the silence was the result of a very good thing: I haven’t been stressing my weight.

For nearly three weeks, my weight (and my body as a whole) has been at the very back of my mind. Perhaps it’s due to my busy work schedule, life stressors, or the heavy graduate class I’m balancing, but the scale, my pant size, and the reflection in the mirror have not been important to me recently.

I’m not used to this freedom. I’m not used to walking beside the scale and not feeling inclined to strip and weigh myself. To weigh myself not once, but twice – because the first time might be wrong. Maybe a third time, just to average the three numbers together and get the most accurate weight. In the last three weeks, I think I have weighed myself four times. Each time, it was out of habit and not need and, in two of the four cases, I didn’t actually look at the number on the screen. I just hopped back off.

In the last three weeks, I’ve enjoyed pizza. Candy. Pasta. Foods I’ve normally considered “forbidden territory” have been peppered into my day-to-day. And guess what? They haven’t destroyed me. I’m still strong and healthy. I’m still a good person. Even if my jeans are a little tighter in the waist, my heart is happy and I’ve allowed myself to live.

This is a freedom I could get used to.

While I’m not saying I plan to drop my regimen and let loose entirely, I think allowing myself a little wiggle room has helped me.

I got on the scale this morning and actually looked at the numbers this time: 133.2.

Three weeks of just letting myself live – exercising when I could, eating well for the most part, and enjoying my indulgences without guilt – and my weight was right about where I started.

Maybe there is something to this 80/20 balance thing after all.

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Games With My Head

OK, now my body (and the scale) is just playing games with me.

As you may have seen with yesterday’s post, my weight jumped up six pounds in six days, a feat of fat-lardiness that had never been experienced before. It was a glorious fatxplosion of self-hatred and jiggle when I hopped off of the scale in the morning and I carried that stress/anxiety/anger throughout most of the day.

Fatxplosion (n): Like a regular explosion, only meatier. Photo Credit:

Fatxplosion (n):

Like a regular explosion, only meatier.

Photo Credit:

Understandably, I was freaking the *bleep* out yesterday.

I ate relatively well (except for a small bowl of coconut ice cream post-gym) yesterday and expected to see nominal difference on the scale today, because that’s just how my life normally works as a yo-yo dieter.

Consumed: 1,453 (damn ice cream) Burned: 999 (couldn't round up, could it?)

Consumed: 1,453 (damn ice cream)
Burned: 999 (couldn’t round up, could it?)

This morning, I was 135.6.

Granted, it’s not the beautiful 133.8 I was last Monday, but it’s down four pounds overnight (did the pudge-fairy visit last night?) and I felt somewhat better compared to yesterday. At least last week’s week-long diet faux-pas hadn’t truly destroyed all of the my success from the month.

So that’s something.

I am getting a bit annoyed with the head-games the scale (my weight) has been playing with me lately. The ups, the downs. It’s enough to drive a girl insane! I think I may try to avoid weighing myself again until Friday so I can actually see true change versus the “tide” movements of my water weight.

Until then, bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Physically Impossible? Not for me.

So, the trend of good Mondays has come to an end.

After nearly four weeks of intensive work at the gym and eating right, I managed to completely ruin/sabotage my success in just a few days.


You think I’m exaggerating, but let’s compare last Tuesday (8/20/2013) to this Monday (8/26/2013).

Last Tuesday, the scale read: 133.8.

I was so happy, I even took a picture of it:

Ah, sweet memories.

Ah, sweet memories.

It was a momentous occasion. I was officially lower than I had been since 5th grade.

This morning, the scale read 139.2.

The difference?

I still hit the gym five days last week. Each time, I burned no less than 400 calories, most days over 1,000 calories.

The only difference was that I cut myself slack on a few days with my diet. I let myself splurge and now I’m paying the consequences. I gave myself an inch and my f*cking weight took the whole damn mile.

Here’s the breakdown of my calories last week, care of Let me know when you spot the downward trend:

Monday 8/19/2013:

Consumed: 1,227. Burned: 1,130

Consumed: 1,227.
Burned: 1,130

Tuesday 8/20/2013:

Consumed: 2,085 (bad!) Burned: 1,050 (at least it cancelled out)

Consumed: 2,085 (bad!)
Burned: 1,050 (at least it cancelled out)

Wednesday 8/21/2013:

Consumed: 1,822 Burned: 423 (Starting to notice a trend here? Yeaaah.)

Consumed: 1,822
Burned: 423
(Starting to notice a trend here? Yeaaah.)

Thursday 8/22/2013:

Consumed: 1,271 Burned: 1,051 (Am I back on the straight and narrow?! Redemption!)

Consumed: 1,271
Burned: 1,051
(Am I back on the straight and narrow?! Redemption!)

Friday 8/23/2013:

Consumed: 2,380 Burned: 851 (It's Friday. My only cheat day, I promise.... right?)

Consumed: 2,380
Burned: 851
(It’s Friday. My only cheat day, I promise…. right?)

Saturday 8/24/2013:

Consumed: 3,710 Burned: 67 (Oh, for fuck's sake. I literally consumed a pound of excess calories today.)

Consumed: 3,710
Burned: 67
(Oh, for fuck’s sake. I literally consumed a pound of excess calories today.)

Sunday 8/25/2013:

Consumed: 1,907 Burned: 91 (Might as well enjoy the morbid obesity.)

Consumed: 1,907
Burned: 91
(Might as well enjoy the morbid obesity.)


Yes, I was very bad last week. But, in doing the math, assuming I need 1,500 calories daily to MAINTAIN my weight and anything over that (that I don’t burn off) results in weight gain, how did I GAIN SIX POUNDS?!?!

Mathematically, it doesn’t make sense.

I consumed a total of 14,397 calories last week. (That just SOUNDS horrific).

Assuming 1,500 to live (and not factoring in my exercise) I should have not consumed more than 10,500. That puts me at a surplus of 3,897 calories – roughly a 1.5 pound weight gain if I round up.

However, adding in my burned calories, which was roughly 4,663 in total cardiovascular/strength exercises (not counting the normal day-to-day living stuff), I should STILL BE AT A DEFICIT for the week.

I should be at: -766 calories for the week net. I should have stayed around the same weight or even have lost an ounce or two.


No, not my body. I’m up SIX GOD DAMN POUNDS.

I could punch something. I’m debating punching myself.

People often tease me for how regimented I am. For the fact that I count every calorie and obsess over what I put in my mouth. Do you SEE now why I have to do this?! Is this not proof? I allowed myself to eat whatever I wanted for 50% of last week – and still hit the gym hard five days in a row – and I’m up the weight of a god damn baby!

Is there a food baby in my lower intestine or something?! A beautiful, rosy-cheeked six pound LARD BABY rolling around in my duodenum?


So angry. So frustrated. So ready to kick this week’s ass.

You thought I was hardcore before… watch me.

~ Tori




Steady Progress

For the second weekend in a row, I maintained control.


No binge eating or drinking. No diet failures. CONTROL.

This morning, I was 133.8 on the scale.

I really ought to wipe down my glass scale once in a while.

I really ought to wipe down my glass scale once in a while.


I worked out Saturday. I took a long walk on Sunday. Outside of a HUGE dinner (with friends) on Saturday night, I watched my calories, ate clean, and didn’t splurge.

My goal is to be under 128 by October 4th, 2013.

While it is a bit frustrating that I can’t “spot-reduce” this weight loss (my weight all seems to be coming off of my rib cage/waist and not the much needed thighs/hips area), I’m still making steady – and HEALTHY – progress.

Seriously. No more weight needs to come off of my rib cage. These thunder thighs would love to see some trimming, though.

Seriously. No more weight needs to come off of my rib cage. These thunder thighs would love to see some trimming, though.

Just 5-6 more pounds until I hit my goal.


I can do this.

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Friday Miracle?

Brace yourselves, everyone, I think the second coming of Christ is imminent.

Why, do you ask?

This morning I witnessed a MIRACLE.

In my usual sleepy stupor I hopped on the scale, anticipating a small drop [I’ve been sticking to my diet 100%] but also not getting my hopes up, as I’ve steadily lost 0.2 to 1.4 pounds every day since Monday.

Here’s a little summary of my weigh-ins this week:

Monday: 143.6

Tuesday: 142.2

Wednesday: 141.0

Thursday: 140.8

So, want to know Friday’s weight?

….drum roll….



I literally dropped 3 lbs overnight.

No, I didn’t take a diuretic. No laxatives. No supplements of any kind, other than my normal morning regime of a multivitamin and a vitamin D tablet.

I hopped off the scale, reset it to zero, and hopped on again to verify the number. Yup. 137.8.

How does that happen?!


This guy is my new best friend.

I’m not complaining at all, of course. I’m THRILLED to be back in the 130 range, but how in the world did I go from 143.6 on Monday to 137.8 on Friday? That’s a loss of just under 6 lbs!

Did my mitochondria go into overdrive last night and decide to metabolize at three times the normal rate?

Did a mystical liposuction fairy come in the dead of my sleep and slurp out some hidden fat cells?

And, if so, how can I make him come back?!

I have no idea what caused the sudden drop in weight other than the fact that I’ve hit the gym consistently this week and stuck solid to my Paleo diet. I’m going to maintain this pattern through the weekend and pray to the Gods of Ketosis/Metabolism for their continued grace and blessings.

With that note, I wish all of you a happy weekend and, as usual, bon appetit!

~ Tori

Renewal Monday

You guessed it. It’s Sunday night.

That means I’m in the deep, dark trenches of remorse. Remorse for a weekend weeks of bad eating, weeks of sub par workouts, and weeks of mistreatment to my body as a whole.

My postings on here have been minimal the last few weeks, primarily because my commitment to any diet/exercise regime, despite solid inspiration, was basically non-existent.

As a result, the scale is reporting a number so high, it’s too painful for me to post. A number that I haven’t seen in almost a year. An increase of almost 12 pounds since October 2012, which is horrifying to me.

In the course of a few weeks, I undid the hard work of nearly eight months of intense dieting and exercise.

Funny how that works.

I’ve decided it’s time to put my money where my mouth is. Since setting goals only works for me when financial loss is on the line, this seems to be the only reasonable option for me. Don’t believe me? The ONLY reason I stuck with my diet through April was because I didn’t want to purchase a second bridesmaid’s dress if I couldn’t fit into the first one.

The same went for my girlfriend’s wedding the year before. I always manage to follow through on my goals when it involves the purchase of another $200 dress.

So, I just downloaded GymPact to my iPhone.


I’ve committed to 5 workouts per week. I’ve set the stakes at $2.50 earned for workouts completed, $5 per workout missed. So I have the potential to make $12.50 per week or lose up to $25. If these stakes aren’t enough to keep me going, I’ll up the ante to $10 per missed workout. Whatever it takes.

The next few days, I’m going to try and cleanse, especially from this weekend, and focus on just fresh veggies and lean meat – no sugars, no processed foods, minimal salt. I hope to post a weight update by midweek – assuming I’ll have flushed the superfluous weight – and just praying that it’s not as painful as it was this evening. Yikes.

Wish me luck!

~ Tori

Independence Day

It’s been over 200 years since America declared its independence from their distant British ruler. Over two centuries since America and its colonies established itself as a force to be reckoned with on a global scale. For 237 years, the United States has stood for freedom, for acceptance, and for refuge for those suffering.

Suffering from persecution, prejudice, or the restriction of their basic human rights? You’ve found sanctuary here.

It seems fitting, then, that I found myself reflecting on my personal struggles with weight and body image during the festivities of the 4th of July celebration.

For years, I’ve been a slave to the scale.

You can't see it, but imagine a ball and chain locking me to this damn thing.

You can’t see it, but imagine a ball and chain locking me to this damn thing.

I’ve allowed it to dictate my mood, control even my most basic decisions, and play the role of judge and jury over the value of my life.

I’ve talked about it here extensively in the past, but the scale in my bathroom is both one of my most prized possessions – as well as one of the most malignant items in my house.

A good weigh-in means a day of happiness, of celebration, of pride.

A bad weigh-in means a day of guilt, of self-inflicted punishment, of shame.

You know, I’m getting really tired of the oppressive dictatorship of my scale.

While I can’t directly compare it to the British control over the American colonies, I can relate to the feeling that it’s not quite FAIR that this scale – which is not involved in my exercise, my diet, or any other element of my health – is able to have so much control over me. Sort of feels like taxation without representation, you know?

That’s just not right.

So, with that thought in mind, and a healthy dose of American pride coursing through my veins thanks to the fireworks yesterday, I’ve decided to declare my independence from the scale.

While I’m not sure I have the strength or fortitude of our founding fathers to make it a PERMANENT division in our relationship, I do plan to secede from the scale for as long as possible. A few days. A week. Maybe I can make it until the end of July, who knows.

Regardless, I’m declaring today – July 5th, 2013 – my personal Independence Day from the scale. Much like the British, I anticipate a bit of retaliation from the little metal and glass piece of evil… but I’ll fight that battle when I have to. In the meantime, I’m going to savor my liberty for as long as possible.

Bon appetit, my friends, and happy Independence Day [from the scale] to all!

~ Tori

Best Workout? MOVING!

Last night, my husband, a team of three professional movers, and I managed to take the contents of our 3/2, third floor condo and move it into our 3/3.5 three story townhouse.

It took SIX HOURS.

Six hours for 5 people, all in relatively good shape.

Up and down three flights of stairs. Over and over and over again.

I’m exhausted. My legs are so tight, it hurts to walk to the bathroom. My shoulders and arms are so sore, it’s challenging to lift my laptop.

Moving is officially the most strenuous endeavor I know. Fortunately, we’re done. The house, though messy and still full of boxes, is relatively put together. Furniture is on the correct floor, gigantic marble tables are in one piece, and my quads are screaming like they realized they won the lottery and threw away their ticket.

I hope to never do that again. I don’t care if my husband and I have a HERD of children, this is our FINAL home. We’ll invest in bunk beds [free delivery and set-up, of course], and just stack the children into the bedrooms before I ever consider getting another house.

How do people do this so frequently? I have friends that move every 1-2 years. I can’t imagine going through this torture more than 2-3 times in a lifetime. Granted, I moved a lot during college, but I also lived out of plastic Tupperware containers and the heaviest piece of furniture I had was a coffee table from Ikea. Big difference.

On a positive note, I finally unpacked my scale. Going four days without a weigh-in was both glorious and freeing, but I was beginning to panic about the “unknown.” Like I said in my previous post, I normally weigh myself multiple times throughout the day. Going more than 72 hours without a weigh-in was just… strange.

Down 2.6 pounds.

Huh. I’ve been living on take-out and missing the gym, but somehow my weight has gone down and my jeans are starting to loosen up again.

I guess moving truly is the best workout around.

Not that I ever plan to do it again… but it’s good to know.

On that note, time to go grocery shopping and stock this place up with HEALTHY goodies!

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori