weight

Best Workout? MOVING!

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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

Scale, be gone!

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A very interesting thing has happened.

In packing and moving this past week, I accidentally packed up the digital scale from the bathroom. Since we’re not officially moving into the new place until next weekend, I had planned to keep it out and visible until the last day, as it’s essential [for me] to know where I stand with my weight.

But yeah. It’s gone.

I’ve gone the last 24 hours without a scale. For most people, that’s not a very long time. How many times does the average, healthy person weight themselves? Once per day? Once per week? Only at regular check-ups at the doctor’s office?

For me, it can be five to six times per day.

Depending on what I ate [or didn’t eat] that particular day, it could be so much more.

At the minimum, I weight myself every morning. It’s the first thing I do. Before brushing my teeth, before giving my husband a kiss, I step on the scale.

Those three to five seconds before my weight registers are so stressful.

Will today be a good day?

Those little numbers light up on the digital screen, either validating my existence or telling me that I’m the lowest, most vile and disgusting human being to every walk the earth.

It’s amazing what numbers can do.

Well, for the last 24 hours, I’ve been scaleless. Due to my own accidental placement during a packing frenzy, I’ve freed myself, if only temporarily, from my in-house judgment.

I got up this morning, in my usual hazy stupor and trudged to the bathroom, only to see that little shadow on the tile floor where the scale used to be. So, instead of my morning ego-check, I climbed back into bed, snuggled with my husband, and thought about my plans for the day.

No stress.

No superficial joy.

No hate for myself, manifested by little black numbers on a backlit LED screen.

It was a very freeing experience. While I don’t trust myself to be able to give up the scale permanently, I don’t think I’ll be in a rush to unpack it. I kind of liked this… normal… morning.

Hmmmmmmm. Now what’s for breakfast?

Bon appetit,

~ Tori

 

Wait, weight, wait!

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I made the executive decision NOT to weigh myself this morning.

After a weekend of eating, boozing, and general laziness [celebrating my anniversary], I decided the scale would likely not be my best friend this morning. The fact that I had a muffin top with every pair of dress pants I tried on confirmed that fact.

It’s amazing how quickly you can regain weight that you struggled for months to lose. It’s astounding how a weekend of scarfing whatever you want and skipping the gym can show an immediate impact on how your body looks and feels.

Why can’t weight WAIT?

Why is it always in such a rush to return?

It’s like an overly attached lover. The second it leaves you, howling and screaming as it’s dragged off, it seeks any opportunity it can to race back to your hips – literally. And oh, God forbid you make the tiniest slip with that ex-lover and welcome him in your door one night, either out of self-pity or defiance – you’ll never get him out again.

I am in a constant hate:apathy relationship with my weight. I either hate it or I don’t give a crap about it. Right now, I hate the fact that I haven’t given a crap about it for so long. Out of pure passivity, I let that ex-lover back into my life and now he’s taken to filling my bureau with his crap and settling in for a long stay.

Time for an eviction, folks.

Let’s do this!

Today’s weight: 142.6?

[this is a guess, since I didn’t weigh myself this morning]

Goal by 5.5.2013: 130-132.

Salads, cardio, and no sweets for the next three weeks!

~ Tori

 

The Plithe of the Bridesmaid

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So… just tried on my bridesmaid’s dress for my brother-in-law’s upcoming wedding. It zips – except for the last stubborn 1.5 inches.

CRAP.

The wedding is on May 5th, which means I have less than 30 days to make this dress fit. My guess is that I could stand to drop 5 lbs, which is roughly what I’ve put on since the last time I was fitted.

Normally, I would just switch to “hardcore diet” mode, but here’s my dilemma:

This weekend is my 6th wedding anniversary.

Which means I’ll be eating out, skipping the gym, and swooning over my stud muffin of a husband – not working out. Did I mention eating? Love and chocolate are synonymous in my book.

Following my anniversary, I’ll be moving into my new house the next weekend. Which means all my dishes are packed, Lord knows where my tennis shoes are at the moment, and I’ll probably be eating fast food, just because it’s the quickest and easiest thing to grab.

This doesn’t seem like the recipe for weight loss success, does it?

In all likelihood, this dress is bound to get TIGHTER in the next two weeks versus looser. Which means I’ll be working at an even bigger deficit when I get back to normal and probably will be working to shed 7-8 lbs in less than two weeks.

I’m in trouble.

Hoping for a miracle… or the stomach flu,

~ Tori

I might be too old for Forever 21

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Thanks primarily to the Paleo Diet, a good workout regime, and intermittent stress, I’ve managed to get down to a size 6 and stay there for a solid year. With that strong track record, I decided it was time to splurge and update my wardrobe a bit. I always wait a few months at a new size before shopping, as I never know how my body will respond and if the weight will truly stay off. After 12 months, I figured my body had given up the fight and would let me enjoy the size for a while

Last week, I went on a shopping blitz, purchasing a bunch of hip, trendy, and cute clothing from Forever 21 online. Surprisingly, they have a lot of professional clothing which, since I have short legs, manages to be appropriate for the office despite the deceiving appearances of their skirts on their beanpole models.

Since I was shopping online, I checked their measurements against my own and ordered appropriately.

Hmmmm. I should have checked the HIPS to WAIST ratio a bit closer.

Nearly 99% of the skirts/dresses fit perfect on the waist [some of the size 6’s are loose!] but several of them are SHRINK-WRAPPED around my bottom half. Literally, the material is so tight around my hips and thighs, it looks tattooed on for many of these items.

Evidence, Exhibit A:

Even my husband said, "Ummm. I don't know if this brand is a good choice for work clothing." After a pause, he added: "Your butt looks good."

Even my husband said, “Ummm. I don’t know if this brand is a good choice for work clothing.” After a pause, he added: “Your butt looks good, though.”

Huh. Now, I’ve never considered myself disproportionate in any way. In fact, I’ve never really had any body issues with my hips before. Most clothing has always fit my waist and hips with equal snugness, so shopping has never really been an issue, other than the normal panic over the size in general.

Well, per Forever 21’s standards, I’m pear-shaped.

Are people really supposed to be the same width at their waist as they are at their hips?

That doesn’t seem right.

Instead of thinking something was wrong with me and my body, I decided that I probably don’t fall into Forever 21’s normal clientele [hence, the name] and they likely design and market to the pre-pubsecent population with more gusto than the almost-30 generation like myself.

With that said… I think I may be a tad too old for Forever 21, but just the right age for my body.

Off to the mall to make returns!

~ Tori

Why I Run

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I wrote the following poem between sprints on the treadmill at the gym.

Consider this my attempt to make up for not having my video blog ready to post on Sunday, as originally anticipated. Editing’s not easy work, folks!

Why I Run

Until the bitter voice,
of self doubt
is silenced,
forever.

To escape the demons
of my insecurity,
the evil whispers
of my skewed vision.

To be free.

No matter how far I go,
I cannot escape the ghost
of my former
self.

She haunts me
Taunts me,
Mocks.

And so I run.

The voice cannot shout
louder than the wind.

Faster.

********

Video blog coming this week, I promise!

Bon appetit,

~ Tori

The Good & The Bad

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This weekend, my husband and I spent the weekend with some friends in Tampa. I’ve probably not mentioned it before, but we’re craft beer aficionados. The local brewery in Tampa, Cigar City Brewing, was having a celebration in honor of the release of limited bottles of a Hunahpu, a delicious, complex, and decadent stout that they brew and age with cacao nibs.

So, we left Orlando early on Friday afternoon and stayed the night in Tampa, spending the entire day at the brewery on Saturday.

While we had an awesome time and got to sample dozens of rare and unique beers, my diet took a back seat for a solid 24 hours. Food trucks were lined up at the event, selling every fried, fatty, porcine vittles possible to an inebriated audience of 5,000+ people.

Why is food, especially BAD food, so closely intertwined with events?

Do we have to gorge on unhealthy things every time we’re happy, celebrating, or otherwise being entertained?

There were a few healthy options at the event, but they ran out quickly. The one truck boasting healthy sandwiches ran out of 99% of their “fresh” ingredients within an hour and was pumping out only breaded chicken tenders and french fries for the majority of the event.

My Saturday menu consisted of:

At the event —

  • A Dunkin Donuts veggie eggwhite flatbread [my attempt at a healthy breakfast before the event started.]
  • A vanilla nonfat, sugar free latte.
  • Three munchkins. [They were staring at me, taunting.]
  • At least 10 samples [2 oz pours or less] of heavy, craft beers. My guess would be 100-200 calories per sample.
  • A slice of cheese pizza.
  • An empanada that was so greasy, I could have cooked an omelette in the pool of oil left on my plate.
  • Deep-fried broccoli and cheddar “bites.” Something quasi-healthy made irrevocably unhealthy in one moment.

After the event [I’d already blown my diet, anyhow]:

  • Some curry laska soup.
  • Several bites of pad thai.
  • A heaping serving of basil fried rice.
  • Sauteed bak choy.
  • Two coconut fried shrimp.
  • A bottle of beer.

So, needless to say, I was feeling pretty bad about my diet and eating habits by the end of the day. While I had a BLAST at the event and enjoyed dinner with several friends in the evening, I wish that I had better control of my diet and impulses to eat badly when in the company of others.

I’m so regimented and controlled on my own.

Why does company – and celebration – break down my resolve?

I hope to post a video blog later this evening to explore this concept a bit deeper.

Until then, bon appetit!

~ Tori

A Positive Body Image

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For those of us that struggle with an eating disorder – and, likely, those that just aren’t 100% happy with how they look even if it doesn’t go so far as an ED – maintaining a positive body image is a challenge. In most cases, it’s nearly impossible.

I, for one, have a constant struggle with body image. If I didn’t lay out my outfits the evening before and force myself to wear whatever I prepared, I’d likely spend a solid hour changing every morning because I do not feel comfortable with how I look in my clothing. It is rare for me to truly feel good in my own skin, so on the rare occasion I do, it’s cause for celebration.

Today, I discovered one of those rare moments.

This afternoon, as a reward for all that I’ve accomplished in the last few weeks, I decided to get a massage.

You’d think that the act of stripping down to your skivvies, laying on a table, and allowing a total stranger to touch you [sounds way more perverted than it is, I assure you] would be the last thing to boost my self image.

Yet, that’s exactly what it did.

It wasn’t the other person, of course. It was the sensation. Feeling the tension in my muscles. The connective tissue. Having the masseuse work out the knots in my legs that were there not as a result of stress, but as a result of the workouts and effort I’ve been putting in. Feeling the strength in my joints, the tendons stretching – I felt in tune with my body for the first time in many years.

This wasn’t my first massage; however, this was the first time I really connected with my body. Instead of trying to forget about my thick thighs or jiggly arms, I focused all of my attention on the muscles below the skin and how they responded to the therapy.

For that brief hour, I was proud of my body.

Proud of the aches and pains. Proud of the stretchmarks, which are a constant reminder of the journey I’ve been on for nearly a decade. Each one a tiny, faded badge of honor – a memory of the old me.

Of course, I can’t expect to get a massage every day of my life as a means of boosting my self-image, so I’ll have to seek out other ways of becoming more comfortable with who I am.

However, today’s stolen hour reminded me of the hard work that I’ve put in and the efforts I’ve been taking to be healthy, inside and out. It reinforced the mindset that I have to be good to my body in order for it to be good to me in return.

With that in mind, I’m going for a run before the sun sets on a good day.

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Taste

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One of the things I love most about food is the fact that everyone can respond differently to it. Unlike a drug, such as heroine or cocaine, where the majority of users will become addicted, food has the power to attract as well as to repel. That makes it a very personalized drug, which I would consider to be all the more intriguing and, in some cases, dangerous.

Take, for example, sushi. In my case, it is the equivalent of barrel-aged whiskey to an alcoholic. It’s nearly impossible for me to resist and I will continue to eat it long after my stomach sends the signals to my brain that it’s full. In fact, my stomach has to basically resort to an airhorn and whirling lights before I’ll stop shoveling the seaweed wrapped deliciousness into my mouth. It’s that strong of an addiction for me.

However, this very food tends to repulse a large portion of the population. There are people who won’t so much as try a piece of cooked sushi, nonetheless engorge themselves on sashimi and ngiri at the speed I inhale it.

How is that?

My mind reels at the thought that something I find absolutely irresistible can be revolting – pugnacious! – to someone else. I found the concept so interesting that I did a bit of research on the “science” of taste, and here is what I learned.

  • Physiologically speaking, our four major taste buds evolved because that was one of the few ways prehistoric man had of determining what was edible or not. For example, since your body needs salt to function properly, you are able to detect salt, crave it, and seek it out. The same applies to sugar: you need carbohydrates for energy, so you naturally are inclined to like sweet and starchy things as an almost Pavlovian response to the spike you know it will provide.
  • Genetically speaking, some food tastes different to certain people. I won’t go into the science behind it (primarily because I didn’t understand 95% of what I read about it), but one article I read discussed that fact that a specific chemical, phenylthiocarbamide, is either tasteless to some or horrifically bitter to others, which is purely based on their genetic makeup. Applying this same principle to all foods and drinks, it can be assumed that what tastes good to me could be repulsive, purely because their genetic makeup processes the flavor differently. An interesting thought!
  • Some people were not exposed to a variety of foods when they were young, so they never acquired a taste for the varieties of herbs, spices, and flavors that exist. I know MANY people like this. They grew up eating chicken nuggets and fries from McDonald’s as a child and, as a result, find pretty much every food with a hint of natural flavor or real vegetable to be disgusting. Is that a form of child abuse? It should be.

I’m sure most of you aren’t going to be as interested in this topic as I am, but I thought I’d share my findings nonetheless. It still blows my mind that there are people out there who hate chocolate, hate wine, and hate exotic cheeses – three things I probably couldn’t live without. However, looking at it from a positive viewpoint, that just means there’s more for me.

Hmmmm. Maybe if my tastebuds changed and I suddenly hated the taste of all unhealthy and fattening foods, I would no longer need to have a blog about dieting? Doubtful, but something to hope for!

On that note, I think it’s time for some lunch!

Sushi, anyone?

~ Tori

Lifelong Journey

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One thing I’ve already briefly mentioned in this blog but haven’t really defined is what I mean by weight loss being a “lifelong” journey.

Many would assume that once we hit our goal weight, the work is pretty much done. A little maintenance here and there and not getting back into the habit of scarfing milkshakes with every meal and we’re golden, right?

WRONG.

It’s not that easy.

You see, when you lose weight, your fat cells empty out, but they don’t go away. You keep them, like a little badge of honor, for the rest of your life. Those fat cells ALWAYS want to be filled back up. It’s their sole purpose in life – to be full of gooey yellow goodness. So, whenever you present them with even the slightest opportunity to replenish, they will do just that.

With this in mind, someone who has successfully lost a substantial amount of weight must always be conscious of their eating and exercise habits, as it will be easier for them to regain the weight than it would be for someone who has never had a weight problem.

It sounds simple enough. Keep eating a healthy diet. Keep exercising. Do both of these, and you’ll maintain.

Again, the problem goes deeper.

You see, most people with weight issues [both overweight and underweight] more than likely have those issues for a reason other than food tasting so delicious. Yes, all of us are guilty of overeating from time to time because it’s so mouth-wateringly delectable, but those who overeat more frequently – and sometimes without consciousness of their actions or control – face a much harder battle than defying their taste buds.

Their battle is emotional. Psychological. Ingrained and internal. Their addiction to food can be so deeply wired in their behaviors, it may take the rest of their lives to even pinpoint the cause of it, nonetheless cure it.

On top of that, the odds are against you in almost every way to lose weight:

  • Fast food is cheap. How many dollar menus have a wide variety of salads on them?
  • Healthy food is expensive. Fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as lean meats, are double their less healthy counterparts.
  • Americans work LONG hours. Food has to be quick, convenient, and readily available.
  • Gyms and personal trainers can be expensive.

Don’t believe me that it’s a hard world out there for someone trying to lose weight or maintain their weight loss? Check out this article from Cracked magazine.

For those of you who may not click on the article, here’s one of my favorite excerpts that pretty much defines my case:

“Well, just stop eating so much!” Sure, kid. To feel what it’s like, try this: Go, say, just 72 hours without eating anything. See how long it is until the starvation mechanism kicks in and the brain starts hammering you with food urges with such machine gun frequency that it is basically impossible to resist. That’s what life is like for a formerly fat person all the time. Their starvation switch is permanently on. And they’re not going 72 hours, they’re trying to go the rest of their lives. Don’t take my word for it. Here’s a breakdown of the science, in plain English. It’s like being an addict where the withdrawal symptoms last for decades.

I can attest to the following:

  • I am ALWAYS hungry. Always. I can sit down to a meal and less than an hour later, be ready to do it again. There is a constant growl in my stomach which is often audible to those around me. I chug water, eat high fiber foods, ect – it doesn’t go away.
  • I think about food most of the day. I think about what I had for breakfast, when I get to have a snack, what I might want for dinner, etc. There is a constant chain of thoughts parading through my brain about my next meal.
  • My cravings can be paralyzing.
  • I obsessively worry about my weight, my diet, and my exercise habits. If I know I cannot make it to the gym within 48 hours, I get antsy. If it’s going to be more than 3 days, I will start cancelling plans with friends, family, and work to ensure I get to the gym. I can’t control myself.
Nachos... my kryptonite.

Nachos… my kryptonite.

So, with all of that in mind, please understand that those of us with weight issues, even if our bodies don’t currently appear unhealthy from the outside, are constantly in a state of perpetual journey.

There is no miracle cure. There is no solution. To maintain my good health, I will always have to stand vigil over the food I eat, the exercise I do, and the habits that I create. And that is why this is my lifelong journey.

Bon appetit,

~ Tori