Clearing out the Clutter

Does having a cluttered house keep you fat? This is something that Peter Walsh has talked about on Oprah and in his book Does this Clutter Make My Butt look Fat. I've got this book on my request list at the library. I'm curious to see what he says.

In the meantime, I will say that I've been sorting and clearing out clutter in my house in preparation for a garage sale. In the process of doing this, I've also been more mindful of other healthier habits. I'm working out harder and longer. I'm watching what I eat even closer. I'm looking to gain better spiritual and emotional health.

Coincidence? I'm not sure. I think it all goes hand in hand.

I'll review the book once I finish it. I certainly don't live in a garbage house like the ones that Mr. Walsh has addressed on Oprah. Recently I discussed how my house being a mess doesn't sit well with me. I'm pretty sure that Mr. Walsh is on to something, though. Maybe a light heart goes along with a light mind and a light house. Something to ponder.

Do You Believe in Sabotage?

Sticky Toffee Pudding!
a low fat version

Do you believe in sabotage?

I don't.

I think that people may try, but that ultimately, it's up to you to stand firm. You can't blame anyone for the things you do or the stuff you put in your mouth. The blame game is a very dangerous route to take. A healthy lifestyle isn't just about physical health. Emotional and spiritual health go hand in hand with it.

My delightfully dear neighbor brought over Prune Cake made from a recipe from The Pioneer Woman. I love her even more for doing this. Cause I just needed me some Prune Cake.

Now, that title just doesn't do this cake justice. Prunes conjure up images of constipated Senior Citizens to me. I don't even want to go there.

This cake, oh my, it's amazing. But, if you make it, be forewarned: It has 711 calories and 42.5 grams of fat per serving.

I read that after I ate a piece. AFTER.

If I would have read it before, I would have had a small taste and been satisfied. Nutritionally, it's like getting a piece of really good tasting lard.

I love my neighbor dearly and I know she wouldn't sabotage me. She doesn't have it in her. I hesitate to even write this down knowing that if she stumbled upon it, it would hurt her feelings. So, MEL, if you read this, I know that this was a particularly amazing cake that you wanted to share with your friend. No worries!

This whole train of thought got me thinking about sabotage. Self sabotage or by another person. Do you believe in it? Like I said, I don't. Not that I don't believe that people do try to harm each other intentionally or not. But, I don't believe that you can blame someone else for your actions, especially when it comes to eating or working out.

I don't blame MEL for every, sinful, decadent, delicious, moist, bite of cake. I put fork to mouth. She didn't.

So, back to the recipe. I'm determined to make this lighter. I think it can be done. It's a very sweet, rich cake as it is, so it could do with less sweetener. I'm thinking applesauce or bananas for the oil. Off to the kitchen to start experimenting. I'm thinking this one might take a while.

In the mean time, Sticky Toffee Pudding is a reasonable substitute. This is a lower fat version that is pretty darn delicious. Sticky Toffee Pudding is a recipe from my Scottish side of the family. Nutrionally, the original version is healthy lifestyle suicide.

Sticky Toffee Pudding

Serves 9 at 2 WW Points per serving. You can drizzle with more maple syrup or vanilla yogurt, but those are not included in the nutritional total. I like it just the way it is, hot from the oven. If the dates keep you from wanting to make it, please try it anyway. It tastes like rich, caramel, pudding cake.

3/4 cup Dates (pitted)
1/2 cup Maple Syrup,divided
1 tablespoon Vanilla
2 Eggs
1/3 cup Flour
3/4 teaspoon Baking Powder
1/4 teaspoon Salt

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Simmer the dates for 5 minutes in 3/4 cup water. Put dates and water into a food processor and blend to a paste. Add 6 tablespoons of the maple syrup and the vanilla.Transfer to a bowl, let cool. Mix in the egg yolks, and then the flour. Whisk or beat the egg whites stiff in another bowl, then fold into the date mixture.Put 4 tablespoons of maple syrup in the bottom of a baking dish. Pour the date mixture on top. Cover with tin foil. Put the pan in a water bath. The water comes half-way up the baking dish.Bake for an hour, checking every ten minutes after 30 minutes have passed. When cooked, a skewer or knife will come out of the center clean.Uncover, and run a knife around the edge to help it come out easily. Tip onto a plate, serve hot!

Kiss the cook. This one is yummy.

Workin' It Out

I read in a magazine that in order to lose weight you must commit to working out at least 50 minutes, five days a week. Actually, the article first said that you needed at least 60 minutes, five days a week. But, with extensive research, they whittled it down to a more manageable 50.

Now, we all have the same 24 hours in a day. Why is is so hard to fit in those required minutes?

It's been my struggle to get them in for the last year and a half, but I'm finally feeling like it's just becoming routine. I'm a morning exerciser. If I don't do it then, all my good intentions of sweatin' it out later in the day just go out the window. I like to shower just once in a day, thank you very much.

My mornings usually go something like this. Alarm rudely awakes me at o-dark-thirty. I contemplate hitting snooze, but usually hit the ground running. Work out clothes on. This must happen before my brain is awake enough to rationalize why I shouldn't do it. Bed made, feed Young One's fish, help him pick out matching clothes that don't make him look like "an idiot", and that's all if I don't have to cajole and coax him out of bed. If I do have to wake him up then it's three seconds of mom really cares and loves you very much and will listen intently but only for these three seconds cause we gotta go go go go go go go go go. (I hate what this is doing to him, by the way, but isn't this life? Well, it is, unless you live on the small Caribbean island of Dominica which D and I once visited. Our tour guide worked one day a week. Um, that'll be three tickets to Dominica...)

Downstairs, start the coffee, empty the dishwasher, load the dishwasher, make a lunch if Young One needs once, feed the salt water fish and the dogs. Run to the stairs periodically to shout encourage Young One to move a little faster. He makes his own breakfast most days, but if I'm feeling extremely Carol Brady that day, I'll do it. Scratch that, Carol just sat with Mike at the table drinking out of an olive green coffee cup while Alice was making breakfast, remember? Back a generation, ah yes, the ever faithful representative of our domestic servitude: Mrs. Cleaver. She made sure her boys got their cholesterol laden first meal of the day.

Permission slips, don't forget that book, "Oh yes, I can't wait for the new Batman game to be released", and "the weather is going to be ____ today" when he asks in order to determine the jacket of the day. We eat breakfast together and usually discuss a few important details of life like just how many Pokemon levels his friends have beaten and who was involved in the latest kickball skirmish with the boy already stuck with the "anger management issues" label at eleven years old.

To the bus stop, "I love you mommy" (I'm still not mom yet. How has that not happened? Clarification: I'm mom in front of friends and in public.) As I watch the bus pull away, I try not to think of another reason why I shouldn't go immediately to work out. Seriously, if it weren't for all the other things on my list on any given day, I'm not sure I would work out. That busy-ness pushes me to hit it quickly. Work out? Big bold check mark, DONE.

Yes we all have the same 24 hours. Yes we all have the same busy lives. It's not about the time. It's about making you a priority.

It finally clicked with me that I'm a better mom, a better friend, a better wife, sister, daughter when I put myself first sometimes. It's not that my working out gets in the way of my life. It's become a part of my day, like brushing my teeth, that I don't think too much about anymore. I don't absolutely love it. But, it's time for me. It's time for me to sweat it out and let my mind wander (cause it does and it's amazing the things I work through while working out!)

This may be a transient thing, like the twenty four hour flu, but maybe I've finally figured it out. Maybe I finally am actually making myself a priority.

Wouldn't that be somethin'?

Dangle that Carrot

I hate to work out. I'm finally going to admit it. I'm never going to be a Gym Bunny, let alone a Gym Rat. I will never have cute coordinating workout clothes, nor will I look glistening and glowing as I work.

I will, forever, be reluctantly working out while wearing torn yoga pants, an industrial strength jogging bra, and a red faced grimace.

I've finally put it down in print and I intend to stand by this. Like flossing, working out will NEVER be on my joy list. NEVER.

I will do it because I have to. Like I have to check everyone's pockets before they go into the laundry. Like I have to clean toilets. Like I have to make dinner when a yogurt cup would suffice for me. Like I have to clean out my car or weed my garden or nag encourage Young One to wash his face and not just wet the wash cloth to fake me out.

Today was one of the dreadful days. I didn't enjoy one bit of my workout, but I had a goal to work towards. Nope, I'm not talking about buns of steel. (I seriously doubt I will ever own a set of THEM.) Nope, it was a food reward. Probably, this is very psychologically telling of some bizarre eating disorder. I don't care. It got me moving and the reward was well worth it (especially since breakfast was meager this am)!

My piano teacher was a wise woman. She always called Spring the time of year when it was time to throw out the rhubarb that we had frozen last year, just to replace it with the fresh stuff sticking up out of our defrosting gardens. I think of her every time I pull rhubarb out of the freezer. And she was right, I am using up the frozen stuff! I'm not sure if rhubarb is a midwest regional thing, but I do know that when I lived in the South, I could find it in the freezer section of the grocery store by the frozen fruit.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

Sweet and tart with a crumbly brown sugar and oatmeal crisp on top. I developed this recipe last Spring when the rhubarb was fresh. Serves 8 at 3 WW Points per serving.

1 pound fresh strawberries (if frozen, unsweetened berries, defrost and drain a bit.)

4 cups fresh or frozen rhubarb

2 TB honey

2 TB cornstarch

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix the above and place in an 8x8 pan that has been sprayed with nonstick cooking spray.

Mix the next four ingredients until crumbly.

1 cup quick oats

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 tsp cinnamon

1 TB Brummel and Brown soft margarine spread

Sprinkle over strawberry rhubarb mixture. Bake for 40 minutes.

I usually put it in the oven so that it's done right when we sit down to dinner. Then, it's cool enough to eat when we are.

Pleather Should be Outlawed

First of all, unless your Rhianna or Madonna or going on Jerry Springer's show, you should never, NEVER wear leather pants. Leather pants take a level of confidence (and small thighs) that most people do not have.

Today, I followed a lady through the grocery store, listening to the crackles and screeches of her obviously not leather, really tight pants. Her outfit was complimented by a muffin top the size of Manhattan and a knit winter hat with a large multicolored pom-pom. A daring ensemble, yes, I will give her kudos for that. I like people that march to their own drummer, but this poor soul was sadly out of step.

I'm no fashion model. I wear thrift store clothes, which means sometimes I'm really put together, but other times, it's Levis and a long sleeved t-shirt (the suburban mom uniform). I feel guilty for judging this woman. Perhaps she is soon to appear on What Not to Wear. I hope so. Maybe I was on one of Jon Quiniones hidden camera, what would you do, would you step in and help the baby trapped in the car kind of stories. Would you inform this woman that she's making a fool of herself in too tight pleather pants?

Apparently, in this case, I wouldn't step in.

At some point, when you're overweight, you have to decide whether to venture into the big gals section of the store. This woman was obviously in need of taking this trip. Here's the deal girls. No one can see the size on the tag of your clothing unless they know you really well or are somewhere they shouldn't be (or their doing your laundry, and in that case, I say, look all you want). If you need to rip the tag out to feel better, go for it, but BUY THE RIGHT SIZE. Honestly, ladies, you will look thinner in the right size than you will in the size you want to be, but should not be stuffing yourself into.

In her honor, I made some fruit leather, the only leather you should have in your house that isn't furniture or shoes. Fruit leather is a great way to use up ripe fruit. This time around, I made Apple Mango. Pear, berry, and just plain apple are other favorites at our house. You can buy individually packaged fruit leather in the health food section of your store (NOT FRUIT ROLL UPS. THOSE ARE NOT FRUIT. THEY'RE CANDY OR GREAT FOR FIXING LEAKY PIPES). Purchased fruit leather runs about seventy cents for a one by four inch piece. Why not make it yourself?

It's not Pleather it's Fruit Leather

Chewy, sweet, and packed with good for you stuff like vitamins and minerals and all that junk. Points depends on what fruit you use.

I'm not even going to put this into recipe format. It's really so easy. Take some fruit, peel it or don't. Take out pits and seeds and cores and all that stuff that you don't eat. Roughly chop and place in a pan. Cook with a little water until soft. Puree in a food processor. Most of the time I just stick my hand mixer in and blend it up, leaving it a bit chunky. I guess you can make it without cooking the fruit, but I always cook it. Then put it on low heat in your oven or in your food dehydrator (I use a dehydrator that we got for our wedding that we surprisingly use quite often.) until dry, but still flexible. Cut in pieces and wrap individually if you must, or just cut it and put in a zip bag.

I Wish the Scale Would Lie

I blabbed on and on about how when on vacation one should just enjoy oneself and forget about counting Points, etc. I still agree with that. Well, I'm paying for it. The scale was really depressing this morning. Nope, depressing is the wrong word. It was honest. Time to get back on track.

I did enjoy myself on vacation, including NOT counting Weight Watchers Points for everything that I put into my mouth. We were very active, walked miles and miles every day, but apparently not active enough.

Time for some tough love or better yet, honest appraisal. I have not been working the Weight Watchers program for a few weeks now. I'm not mad at myself. I'm not giving up, resigning myself to this weight, this body. I'm not sad. I really don't want to give into that feeling of failure that causes so many people just to say, the hell with it.

For over a year now, I've been trying a different approach. Self love sounds too New Age or pornographic to me. But, that's pretty much what it is. I'm not going to beat myself up for a number that a box of springs flashes at me. It's just not in me anymore to be hard on myself. I'm worth more than that.

Admitting the truth is so much easier. I haven't been measuring my food, I haven't been counting Points. I haven't been formally working out. Back on track, back on the wagon, whatever you want to call it, that's where I am right now.

I can't imagine a life of constantly measuring my food, but at this point, I can't imagine a life still at the size I am. So, I guess if I need to measure my food til the end of time, that's what I need to do.

On a related note, I would like to know why it is physically possible to gain a big number of pounds in a short time period, but that it takes three times as long to take that same number of pounds off. I don't want a scientific explanation for this, I'd just like to know, WHY? As in, kicking, screaming, three year old tantrum-like fit, drawn out, whining, WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEE?

Counting to Infinity

Grocery shopping this week had me mentally tallying Weight Watchers Points. I know that's the POINT (pun intended) of the program, but I found it irritating this week. I'm finding that I can almost calculate the Points without a handy dandy calculator and I'm beginning to think this is the beginning of a new obsession.

This isn't a bad behavior by any means. Being mindful about your dietary choices is important, but I'm missing the carefree days of our vacation when I wasn't keyed in on Points. I made relatively good choices on our vacation, although I caved in to a donut craving that seemed to have no end. I can't imagine traveling without nibbling my way through the region. In fact, that's one thing that I refuse to do.

Now, at Disney's Epcot, watching your Points might as well go out the window. Your choices at visiting Epcot's world are to either shop or eat your way around it. Being the cheapskate that I am, there's no way you'd catch me shopping with those prices. We snacked, alternating salty with sweet, through the countries. It was fun, I rationalized that the miles of walking we were doing was balancing it all out, but in reality, I know that I couldn't possibly work off the fish and chips from "Great Britain" and the pastries from "France" in a day's worth of walking.

I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm crabby. Maybe it's donut withdrawal. Maybe it's the fact that I came home to more laundry than one should be allowed to do in a week and dirty bathrooms (I just didn't get them done before leaving, although I wholehearted tried.) I have a hard time transitioning back into our real world. I'd love to figure out how to be on vacation for a living, but I haven't quite gotten that one sorted through yet. Sometimes, I just don't want to be a grown up and this is one of those times.

If I was a devout Weight Watcher, perhaps I would have counted and measured and played the game on our vacation. I should have, I know, since it's a "lifestyle change" as WW crams down our throats! I just don't think I'm ever going to change that part of my lifestyle that says, enjoy your vacation, run away from life for a while (including worrying about everything that you eat), and just relax.

No, there's no thinking about it. I'm positively, 100% sure that I will never count Points on vacation. Sorry, Weight Watchers, I just don't have it in me.

"You Have to Make Yourself a Priority"

"Putting yourself back on your to do list."

These quotes are from Oprah. The Great One.

Her weight gains and losses have all been in the public eye. I've talked about how much I feel for her because of this, but that's not what I'm going to write about today.

Today, I want to talk about how so many of us have taken ourselves off our to do list. It's so true. And I don't think Oprah is enlightening or earth shattering in making this declaration. I did it. I did it for almost ten years.

I gave and gave and gave and self-sacrificed to the point that my well went dry. Oprah said that she is happiest when she is giving to others. That's me. Totally. And about 2 years ago I started to get really crabby and resentful and pissed off at the takers in my life. And a year and a half ago, I put myself back on my to do list and joined Weight Watchers.

I'm no longer resentful for giving of myself because I'm not doing it to the point of being self-sacrificing. I'm back on my list and I'm not taking myself off again.

I'm writing this on January 5th, the day that Oprah discussed her weight gain, scheduling this to post when I'm on vacation. So, it's probably old news. It's probably been blogged about endlessly. That's OK. It's still relevant now. In fact, it will always be relevant.

If you're reading this, I challenge you to put yourself on your list. Take a little time each day to take care of your body, your mind, and your spirit. You are worth it.

Find your bliss. Find your self. You can.

So, Oprah is Still Fat

Poor Oprah. Watching her yesterday explaining how she, as the most visible woman in the world, just wanted to be invisible. I've been there.

When we owned our business, I had to make a lot of appearances. TV, radio (which wasn't painful), newspaper, and public speaking. I liked the appearances, but I hated mine. Seeing yourself in full glory with the additional pounds the camera adds (rationalization yes, I know), is painful.

You see, when you're overweight, you go through life in denial of your true self. And then when you see it, wham, it hurts. The biggest misconception about heavy people is that it's something we have in our control and that we're lazy and just won't do something about it.

It's bigger than that. As Oprah is finding out, it is about love and loving yourself. It is about putting yourself back on your to do list.

I'm tired of hearing, "If I had Oprah's trainer, chef, wealth, (or fill in the blank with whatever you think she has that is the secret of her weight loss), I would be thin too." Apparently, she's just like everyone else and all her riches, her privilege has nothing to do with her weight loss or gain. She's just like the rest of us.

I've Had My Fill

We had a delightful Christmas, filled with just enough of the family to feel loved and happy, but not enough to make us tear our hair out. Know what I mean?

I ate too much, though. Too much of everything. I didn't mean to. Nope, that's not quite true. I did mean to. About a week ago, I had decided that to hell with counting Points and holding myself back. Christmas comes just once a year and all that nasty rationalization that we do when we overindulge.

I'm finally feeling, after five days of too much rich food, that I just can't do it anymore. I can't face one more reheated plate of Christmas leftovers and I couldn't put one more cookie in my mouth if I forced it in with both hands.

Eating like that makes me feel like crap. I can't imagine how people can eat like this every day. Did I overindulge like this all the time before I had my light bulb moment of starting a new life? Not to this extent, I'm sure.

There's a guy, I can't remember his name, but he was featured in Morgan Spurlock's Super Size Me documentary about McDonalds, who eats at least two Big Macs every day. He was recently featured on Yahoo News, why I don't know. Perhaps it's all the New Years Resolutions that are soon to be made. Anyway, I remember that any time I've ever had the craving for McDonald's Big Macs (and those times have been very few in my lifetime--we honestly rarely, if ever, eat fast food), I've always ended up regretting it. As in, clutching my stomach, moaning, and cursing the very existence of McDonalds. And drinking a bottle of Mylanta.

So, I wonder, these people who eat fast food several times a week, do they feel like I do right now all the time? I can't imagine.

So, it's time to get back on track. I'm tempted to throw away the rest of the leftovers, but the cheapskate in me can't do that. I guess I'll put them in the freezer. The cookies will disappear, I'm not interested any more. And when they're almost gone, I'll trash the rest of them. Why oh why I ever made homemade caramels is beyond me? The very thought of them nauseates me.

This feeling has got to be why New Years Resolutions are made. I just know it.

Bluck.

So, Oprah's Fat Again

I sympathize with her, not so much over the weight gain, but because her struggle is such a public one. I want to like Oprah, I like who she appears to be on TV. I doubt, though, that we could be friends in real life. She's driven in a way I am not. She chose a life without children. I can't imagine what we would talk about.

This morning, her weight was discussion on the radio, on The View, on the radio again. It was written about on blogs. I'm sure it's been water cooler conversation at people's jobs.

I say, good for you Oprah. You finally spoke about what we've all watched happen in the past year or so. I remember you mentioning your thyroid problem and yes, that contributes. But, good for you for announcing it in your own words before someone else got a chance to.

We Fat Chicks do that. We mention our fat. We let it out first, sort of discussing the elephant in the room (pun NOT intended). We make jokes about it. We want people to know we're working on it, we're on Weight Watchers, we love aerobics, we talk about the dangers of dessert. We become the punchline to our own jokes before someone else can say something that we might ruminate about later.

I can't imagine what it must be like to fight the fat battle in the public eye. Perhaps at this point in her career, she's just able to put it out there and let it go. Perhaps the being in the public eye IS a motivator for her. I don't know.

I don't feel sorry for her for gaining weight, for falling off the wagon. That is part of her journey. What I think must eat at her (pun AGAIN not intended) is the relentless commentary. The play by play, so to speak, of her gains and losses. That must be brutal.

Weight Watchers Announces New Momentum Plan

Forgive me if I laugh a bit, WW, but your new "plan" sounds like a laxative. In fact, I think in the medical world, there is one named that. Tired of that cramped, bloaty feeling? Try MOMENTUM. It'll blow the top off your colon.

I digress.

Those of you not on WW, may wonder what I'm talking about. Basically, WW is launching a new plan that combines both their flexible Points plan and their Core plan (which I know nothing about, really). The gist of the plan? Eat low Points value foods that make you feel fuller longer.

While this is brilliant marketing intended to capture the after the holidays, New Year's resolution folks, I don't think this is anything new to those of us on the plan for a while. In fact, when I read the new material, I offered up a big, "DUH!" to the great WW gods in the sky.

I don't think it takes many Weight Watchers clients more than a week to realize how to manipulate the system so that you don't get ravenously hungry. When I hear people complain about being on WW and being hungry, I always reply with, "you're doing it wrong, then." Because it's not that hard. Eat things that make you feel fuller longer. Again, I cry, "DUH!"

A 5 Point breakfast could be two pieces of dry toast (high calorie bread) or you could have one egg and an egg white scrambled (with spinach, mushrooms, and tomatoes--all "free foods"), a whole grapefruit, two pieces of light bread toasted topped with one tablespoon of honey, and a cup of coffee with fat free flavored creamer (almost a latte).

Weight Watchers also is pushing soup as a filling food. Another "Duh!" here. This one gets me every time. I can no longer watch the show Survivor anymore because the size zero people are wasting away, there's usually someone who claims to be a great cook or professional chef, and yet, they don't make soup from the one fish and the handful of rice they have. Heck, they could make soup out of the fish heads and bones that they don't eat!

It's OK Weight Watchers, I think this is just a marketing move and really isn't anything new to us oldbies on the plan. And it does sum up what most people very quickly figure out while on the plan. Is it going to sign up more people making the dreaded New Years Day Diet Plan? Probably. Maybe it will help them stick with it past February.

To me, though, learning this for myself was so much more important and so much more crucial to my success. I see WW as a learning tool--allowing me to learn a new way of eating, a new lifestyle. It's more about self discovery for me and that's why I think giving this bit of information away to your clients isn't really going to help them in the long run. (Although, your goal is to make money and not necessarily to teach your clients to no longer need your services, right?)

Enough of the fat rant. I'm off to clean my house. I did cardio for almost an hour and I feel GREAT.

You are Worth All This

I think I sometimes forget my own value. It's easy to do when you're a mom. Everyone's needs come before yours. I think it's even stronger with us fat chicks.

I was looking through some old pictures the other day and was shocked when I came across a picture of myself at my heaviest (see above). I was feeling pretty cute that day, having a good time with my guys, skipping rocks into Lake Superior. We were taking lots of pictures, usually something that I used to hide from. There I am, with a big smile on my face, enjoying the day. And I was having fun. But, at the time, I didn't feel worth very much.

Here's the deal. I had just begun to realize that a person who was very near and dear to me wasn't the person I thought she was. I felt betrayed, lied to, and used up. I don't think we talk very much about what it feels like when we as women have toxic friendships and what it feels like when they end. This person, who I felt a sisterhood with, stole from me. She stole money. She stole trust. She lied to me. Worst of all, she hurt my son.

I look back on it now and realize that because of this, I completely stopped caring about myself. I packed on a few more pounds and was at the heaviest point of my life. The hurt was so raw that I can vividly remember this very day filled with joy as being one of the first after so much pain. I think it was that day that I began to care again.

Every day, when I get up, slog into my workout clothes and begin to face another day of eating and living healthfully, it feels like a new beginning. No matter what happened the day before. No matter what happened in my past, it's all new again. It's a great place to be in.

I am happier than I've been in a long time. My life is going so well. I don't have any major stress. I'm finding myself again. I've realized that this person wasn't the sum of my life. That she has her own issues, many she has no clue are even happening because she's so busy tearing through life trying to keep it together. I don't envy her one bit.

I have a wonderful marriage. I'm taking incredible care of myself. I am enjoying my life, my family, my home, my friends. I feel like I have worth again. I'll always keep this picture as a reminder of where I was and where my new life began. (I'm so glad I'm not that big anymore. I'm not where I want to be yet, but that's behind me anyway!)

Seems like a weighty subject (pun intended), but I think a lot about gaining weight has nothing to do with your food intake. Oh, that's the solution, yes, eat less, but I'm speaking about bigger things. I think there is a part of us fat chicks that stops caring about ourselves and when we do again, it's such a wonderful feeling.

I'm pretty sure that losing your worth isn't just relegated to those of us with weight issues. I'm sure it happens to lots of people in lots of situations. We just wear our worthlessness as a big, uncomfortable suit for all to see.

Slow? You Have No Idea

Losing weight, for me, has felt like unzipping layers. Inch by inch, uncovering the outside me revealing the inside me. Sometimes, though, it's hard to deal with the slowness of weight loss. I love seeing my body change, but it's excruciatingly, painstakingly S.L.O.W..............

We live in a fast world. Information, schedules, people all move at a very fast pace. People never do just one thing at a time. Multitasking has become the name of the game. Ever see those people reading and talking on their cell phones while driving? Pretty insane, right? The rate of weight loss is understandably frustrating, but I think it's even worse when the pace of the world is so crazy.

We've all heard, it took a long time to put it on, so it's going to take a long time to take it off. It's a bit trite, but it's true.

For me, it doesn't matter how long this takes. Really, it doesn't. I'm going to live healthily. I am going to work out at least five days a week. I am going to make healthy choices over bad ones, forever. I won't deprive myself, but I'm going to live in balance.

Just writing that is a comfort to me. It's my mantra. It is my truth.

Research shows that people who lose weight slowly have a better success rate at maintaining their goal weight. It also means less need for tummy tucks or other surgical procedures to take care of the skin that's lost all it's supporting fat too quickly to keep up. I remember when my doctor shared with me the secret to getting your skin to shrink with you-- losing slowly--and I realized, that was the only way for me.

I never want to go through the big loss again and I'm saying that still being in the midst of it. I know that I will live the journey forever. That's okay with me. No, it's more than that. It's fantastic. I made the connection over a year ago and it feels so good to be where I'm at. The future can only be better.

Honesty

It struck me this morning how easy it would be to not be honest in a food journal. You know what a food journal is, right? It's where if you bite it, you write it. A food journal can be kept for any number of reasons. Health care providers love to ask you to do them to help source out possible allergens or to monitor diabetes or cholesterol control. Food journaling is the foundation of Weight Watchers.

Let me tell you, those first few weeks of journaling for Weight Watchers were awful for me. I hated it, but it was eye opening. At that time, I was trying to just eat what I usually did within the Weight Watchers plan. It was instantly apparent that I had to cut soda out of my life as I could have easily consumed most of my Points just by drinking Dr. Pepper alone. I don't use artificial sweeteners, so, I just cut it cold turkey. No diet soda for me. I've heard the carbonation is just as bad for you as the sugar or artificial crap in it anyway.

I was hungry all the time then. I couldn't figure out why. I was eating, sensibly, I thought. Turns out, I just wasn't eating sensibly enough.

Seeing your diet right there in black and white is so helpful in trying to figure out how to combat hunger and where all your calories are going. It's easy then to see where you can streamline things.

I'm still a paying member of Weight Watchers, mostly because I love the online food journaling. It's so easy and there's a handy dandy recipe builder thingie that will figure out the Points values of your favorite recipes. The rest of Weight Watchers really doesn't interest me. I don't like the meetings. I don't like to weigh anywhere, but the privacy of my own bathroom. And I don't like the sales pitches, "Get this WW pedometer for only two payments of $19.95". All of that was what kept me away from this program in the past. Thank God for the online option.

Getting back to honesty. I think honesty is at the core of the successful weight loss journey. You must honestly look at how you eat. You must honestly look at how much you move in a day. I wish that I would have journaled for about a week before I started, just to have that as something to look back on. I think the honesty of what I was actually eating pre-WW would floor me.

So, Maybe I Really am Successful at this Weight Loss Thing

I'm on Cloud 9. Have you ever thought about that strange phrase? I mean, why isn't it Cloud 9 or Cloud 10? Hmmm, I'll have to Google that. It probably has to do with the number of times a guy called a girl before she said yes to a date. Or the number of times a dog barked at midnight. Or someones locker number. Or their shoe size.

Anyway, I went to the doctor the other day and I'm still celebrating my visit with him. He said that I'm right on as far as weight loss for the time I've been on this journey. He said no more than 4 pounds a month. Between 2 and 4 pounds a month and I will keep it off. Any more than that and odds are, I won't be successful in the long run.

He told me that he was proud of me. And I took to that comment like a kindergartener on their first day of school.

I've been discouraged from time to time and keep reminding myself that it's not about that scale number, but in many ways it is. As many sizes as I've dropped, I still occasionally beat myself up about that damn number. As good as I feel, not getting winded going up one, two, three, even ten flights of stairs--but that number, THAT NUMBER can sometimes bring me to tears. Not long, wailing, woe is me tears, but just a smarting, passing, drop or two. Enough just to piss me off and resolve never to do it again and then I do. That number, though, is what we measure our success by, it's what we update our friends with, it often blinks repeatedly in neon in my mind.

So, basking in the words of my doctor, maybe I am getting this right. Slow and steady definitely does win the race and I just had somebody with MD next to his name state that as a true medical fact. It feels great. So what if I may not reach my goal for X number of weeks (and we all know we do that math equation periodically. If I've lost this much weight in this many weeks, how many weeks will it take me to get to goal?) Maybe I'm actually doing this right!

I'm Obsessed with Gwyneth's Exercise Routine

I feel like Gwyneth let the cat out of the bag when she visited with Oprah last week. I mean, I knew in my heart of hearts that she wasn't JUST naturally gifted with that body, but a part of me wanted to believe that she came to it by NOT working at it. Turns out, she's got to work just as hard as the rest of us. Perhaps harder, since she's scrutinized so closely and has to have her picture taken on the red carpet--most certainly with her arm raised tempting flappy arm jiggles that are the curse of all women.

I'm sitting here with a back injury, having survived a very painful weekend of recovery. I'm missing my workout, but I know I'd be crazy to try in my shape. So, instead, I'm sitting here, obsessing about Paltrow's workouts. Six days a week, in an 80 degree room, she is tortured by a pint-sized blond, about half her height, for two hours. Now, granted, her body is her job, her saleable goods, if you will. She has to do this or she'd lose out on her livelihood. Flashing back, I can still see those two blondes sweating it out and looking absolutely gorgeous, with their glistening faces stripped of all makeup.

Me, I'm not a pretty exerciser. I'm quite sure my face oddly grimaces during exercise and I have been known to try to punch the TV screen as my mistress of pain taunts me to do just 100 more hamstring curls. I don't think I will ever be beautiful while working out. It's just not in me. I don't want to go to a gym. I want my workout time to be solely for me and every time I hit our community center, I end up chatting with so many people that I don't focus on the real reason I should be there. I'm content to wear my ugly workout clothes, almost worn through yoga pants, have un-brushed teeth and bed messed hair and hit my basement "gym". (Well, it's really my laundry room and I've been known to do aerobics while adding bleach to my whites as they tumble clean. And I did once get motion sickness while watching my front load washer while doing lunges.)

Gwyneth, why did you have to share this with us? I mean, yes, I guess I can identify with you a bit more, but, a part of me still wants to hate just that little part of you. The gorgeous part that glows while doing cardio. I know you can't help it that you come from such a gorgeous gene pool. Next time, could you curse or burp or something?

Keep on, keepin' on.

Ugh

All, part of the journey, I know, but the scale went in the wrong direction this week. I'm sure it's because of massive muscle gain, right? ha!

I keep telling myself that a box of springs isn't going to rule my life, but it is very discouraging to see almost a pound gain, when it takes almost 2 weeks for me to take that much off!

Back at it, though. I'm not gonna quit.

Well Meaning Words

I didn't want to tell a lot of people that I had joined Weight Watchers online. It seems that once you tell people you're trying to lose weight, you get all sorts of unsolicited comments or advice. I suppose it's not unlike any other major life challenge. When we were struggling with infertility having many miscarriages, I remember one well meaning woman who said to us, "Well, we believe in siblings." Um, OK, thanks.

That's really the only answer you can give, for the intent behind the words really is good will, even if the delivery doesn't make it that apparent. A smile, and a thank you, accomplishes exactly what you'd like it to. It shuts them up. Sometimes, too, the uncomfortable silence that follows the thank you is enough to give them time to think about what they said.

We all put our foot in our mouths occasionally, so it's easy to forgive these little snippets. We can't take them to heart or dwell on them. And it's in your best interest not to make it a big deal. I've found that what I've thought about myself at my lowest points, is usually worse than anything anyone else can say to me. As far as any of the advice, it's usually quite laughable. What's important is that you take from it what you need and toss out the rest. Everyone's weight loss journey is different. If there was one well meaning comment or solution that would work for all, we wouldn't be where we are today.

Working Out While Sick?

I've had the most awful cold for about 4 days. It has literally flattened me. So, the question is, do you work out when you're sick?

I don't. And since, I'm sick, I'm just going to let you hear it from the professionals. As we enter cold and flu season once again, this little article from WebMD is a timely topic.

This year, if a cold or the flu tries to interrupt your quality time at the gym, keep this in mind: you are better off taking a break instead of breaking a sweat.

Forget about what you might have heard about trying to perspire your way back to better health. That's not the way your immune system fights off sickness, says Liz Applegate, PhD, a fitness and nutrition expert on the faculty of the Nutrition Department at the University of California, Davis.

Click here to finish the article.