tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-196312472024-03-12T15:35:41.526-07:00this time for sure, rockyBullwinkle: "THIS TIME FOR SURE!" Rocky: "Oh, that trick never works." <br>Been struggling with weight loss for years. But this time it's going to be different. <i><b>Really.</b></i> It really is going to be different. Honest.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.comBlogger270125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-79279972029489782952017-10-25T05:54:00.001-07:002017-10-25T05:54:24.642-07:00Being alone on my bikeAs my IRL friends know, I spend a lot of time on my bike. I look forward to spring and summer so I can get out there and ride, and I stretch fall as much as I can so I can ride. It's my favorite exercise. Lots of times, friends will ask to join me, and much as I love their company, I kind of don't want to ride with anybody. Part of it is that I can't find anybody who's at my level: either they're in better shape than I am and want to go faster or take fewer breaks, or the opposite. And when I go riding, I want to stop when I want to stop, and I want to take that hill at my pace, and I want to tear out when I want to/can tear out. I don't want to feel bad for the other person, or myself if I can't keep up with the other person.<br />
<br />
"And it's your alone time," a friend pointed out. "I get that."<br />
<br />
Exactly. It's a time for me to shut out the world, get some thinking done, and clear my head. And to give myself a challenge, for the past few years I've been throwing the bike in the car, and driving out to various bike trails in Wisconsin. There's the obvious ones (t<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/albums/72157683606364251" target="_blank">he Elroy Sparta trail</a> is a favorite for obvious reasons) but there's also just nice routes closer to home.<br />
<br />
This post isn't about how wonderful those lonely rides through what seems like the middle of nowhere with nothing bothering you are. No, this post is an expansion of a Facebook post I made a couple of months ago, and forgot about.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">So on Sunday, I parked in Jefferson right by the Elroy Sparta trail, entered the tunnel and there were two guys in there. One about my age, one maybe in his 30s. They were nice enough: asked me how far I was planning to ride and I'd mentioned I was going to the Rome/Sullivan junk parade. "Oh, you'll have to leave the trail to do that." I know, I told them. "How are you getting to Rome?" At that point I started getting the creeps. "I dunno, I'm going to wing it and decide wh</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">en I hit some cross streets how I want to do it." I made some more small talk, because I wanted them to go first, but they didn't. So I rode off. They weren't right behind me, so about a mile in, I made up some excuse about how I forgot my backup bottle of water as I passed them back to my car (they finally got going). I didn't pass them again for about five miles (halfway there). At least I stayed confident and cool, as if (as I've been advised and have always done) I was packing. It turned out they were just two perfectly friendly people out to make conversation, but I wonder if they realized that asking a woman alone where she was going and what route she was taking and waiting for her to leave before they embarked was, well, scary. I won't call this white privilige, but it's certainly male privilege. Do my guy friends ever have to worry about shit like this? Do my guy friends understand why I got the creeps?</span></blockquote>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">I'm pissed off about this. I'm pissed off about having to worry. (I mentioned in my FB post that "this isn't white privilege, but it's certainly male privilege." I need to correct that. This situation, this fear of being harassed or attacked, is something most men don't have when riding --or doing any sport-- alone. But the fact that I can even go out to these locals and not get instant stares is certainly white privilege.) </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">The heartening thing about my post is that some of the reactions to it from men seemed to open their eyes. These are good guys who reacted in a "Oh, yeah, I bet that would be creepy" way, and appeared to genuinely make a note of it for the next time they encountered a woman alone. Others told stories of similar situations and how they'd already been made aware. </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">Other people suggested I should start carrying a weapon. Problem is, I'm aware of myself that I know that the kind of really effective weapon -- like a gun or a knife -- is likely (<a href="http://www.latimes.com/opinion/op-ed/la-oe-0804-hemenway-defensive-gun-home-20150730-story.html" target="_blank">and data supports this</a>) to be used against me. I'm not a trained fighter: about the best thing I could do is maybe carry pepper spray like I was a mail carrier or something. </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">I've since gone on several rides out in the middle of nowhere without incident. But lately, this has been on my mind, and I'm angry that I have to even worry about this. </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><br /></span>V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-45789141948438210302017-09-12T07:35:00.001-07:002017-09-12T07:35:15.297-07:00A few changes, now that I'm backBefore I go into this essay, I'm amounting a few changes to this blog.<br />
<br />
It's not going to be solely about weightless. I'm in my late 50s, and its more about health and such. I'm not ever going to be 130 again, I've accepted that. But I do enjoy eating well, I really live for my bike rides, and I still have a lot to say about the whole diet industry in general.<br />
<br />
So this isn't a weightloss blog anymore, despite the giant picture of a scale at the top. Its about health and life and all the issues that surround it.<br />
<br />
But I do still need to drop a few pounds.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-12584202349701897692014-03-20T10:49:00.000-07:002014-03-20T10:50:59.996-07:00SetbacksWell, this was bound to happen. Setbacks. It's all part of this whole fitness game. A couple of weeks ago, I probably moved up a weight too early on the arms, and I had this weird tight muscle that would crack occassionally for the longest time. My massage therapist told me to hold off on lifting weights on the arm ("I guess you can probably still go swimming) but I was bummed out because, well, I'd made progress and I was on a roll, and now i have to "rest" it.<br />
<br />
So, I did. And I'm back with the arms, and in fact, I've moved up a weight and it's good.... and.... ugh, my knee.<br />
<br />
I did something to my knee the other day and half of me says to tough it out, go ahead and run, and the other half says, listen to your body, that knee needs a rest, wait until it's better. And I'd come so far with the running! I'm up to 2.5 miles at a respectable pace. I was shooting to be at the 3.1 I need for the tri (at this same pace) by April-ish. Ugh. If I rest this out (which is probably going to be two weeks), I'm going to have to start all over again.<br />
<br />
On the bright side, I've learned that, well, starting from zero, it only takes me a month or so to get back up to where I am now. So it's not like I have this tri to run in May. I'll be OK. But it's still a setback, which I also have to keep reminding myself<i> happens</i>. The typical fitness/weightloss graph does not make a pretty parabolic line swinging upward. It looks more like <a href="http://www.nasdaq.com/symbol/aapl/stock-chart" target="_blank">the stock performance of NASDAC; AAPL</a>. Still, it's a bummer. Especially after this past week, when I dropped two pounds to bring me down to my ten pound milestone (total: 20 since I started doing this seriously again), which means I take measurements (something I do every ten pounds). And that was significant: those ten pounds accounted for two inches off chest, bust, waist, hips and arms. I put on a pair of pants that hadn't fit awhile as well as a sportscoat and did the happy dance in my closet the other day. The kids must have thought I'd lost it.<br />
<br />
And then, I wake up the other day and my knee just went <b><i>sploosh</i></b>. It's doing the same thing my arm did a couple of weeks ago -- it's tightening up, pulling everything around it tighter, and after a while I hear a CRACK and then relief. And within a couple of hours, it tightens up again. Something in there is pulled/strained, and I just have to be kind to it and ride it out. But that means no running for a bit. And that's a setback. And I was on such a roll! So it's back to the elliptical and the pool until this thing calms down. I hope I don't lose too much progress this time. OK, OK, setbacks are normal. It doesn't mean I have to like them.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-9085590254292685902014-03-11T12:00:00.002-07:002014-03-11T12:00:33.696-07:00Secreting Awesomeness, not just sweatSo <a href="http://groupthink.jezebel.com/inspiration-youre-doing-it-wrong-1540633035" target="_blank">this went viral this week: some guy wrote a FB post to a large man he'd seen at the track at their local gym, "congratulating" his effort. The author of the original post was (and I'll give him the benefit of the doubt to say he was probably unintentionally) condescending. </a>The object of his post wrote an eloquent reply, and you should probably read the whole exchange.<br />
<br />
I love the reply from Tomy Posnanski and I agree the original poster is a douche. But what really is getting me thinking was the discussion in the comments (and a similar discussion is going on in other people's comments in various shares on FB, I'm sure.) A lot of people are taking this situation, comparing it to their own, and drawing similar conclusions.<br />
<br />
Where I start to feel bad is that suddenly, many (not everybody) seem to be comparing him to any person who reaches out to lend a little encouragement to somebody on a health journey, whether that be weight loss, getting in shape, lowering one's cholesterol, etc. Many of the comments are people who don't want to be acknowledged whatsoever, and this person nailed it:<br />
<blockquote>
<i>Because of the baggage I bring to the figurative table, anyone who tried to high five me at the gym no matter their intention would just remind me exactly how much I don't belong and how everyone knows it. </i></blockquote>
I consider myself fortunate that I really don't give a crap if there's anybody at the gym who looks down on me, because as Polansky points out, they don't know my journey. Also, I'm one of <i>those people</i>. I (like a few other commenters at the link) have always had this attitude that I am who I am and fuck you if you don't like it. (Albeit, I had to grow into this to really believe it). But I love riding my bike too much to worry about how fat it makes me look. A response in that thread really put into words what I genuinely believe:<br />
<blockquote>
<i>Absolutely everyone who isn't a royal asshole is only seeing a fellow person working out. And the assholes ... they're thinking shitty about everyone for all kinds of random things that have no basis. That guy in the post is scary hateful and not the norm!</i> </blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>There probably is someone at my gym giving me the side-eye because I'm sweating all over the elliptical. That's too fucking bad for them, actually. I'm not sweating, I'm<b> secreting awesomeness </b>(which I will, of course, wipe off when I'm done) and if they'd quit giving me the side-eye and instead throw up a high-five, then maybe I can spread some awesomeness to them.
</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>The point is - if you want to go to the gym or get in the pool or go slog around the track, then DO IT. Don't worry what other people are thinking, because what you're doing has nothing to do with them and everything to do with you. So go. Do it. I will high-five you.</i></blockquote>
My two cents may not have belonged in that thread, because frankly, I don't mind if somebody acknowledges that I and my obvious fat are there to do something about it. Hell, if I wasn't fishing for high fives and "God, You're Awesome" compliments, I wouldn't be go all public about my "journey" (are we sick of that term yet?) on this public blog, now would I?<br />
<br />
I'm running around the track (hey, folks, I'm up to 2 miles now -- at a 12minute/mile pace!) and waving at the "regulars" who I pass and pass me. There's Kathryn, who runs longer and faster than I do, smiling at me. There's the girl the key desk who waves when I pass her. There's Janet, who has a wave and a smile for me every time I walk in there, and story to tell when we're winding down in the steam room. (All of them are considerably thinner than I -- and I don't get a single vibe of patronizing attitude.) There's Emily, who teaches a class and we kvetch about raising our 10 year olds. There's the built-like-a-marine-drill-sergeant guy I sheepishly ask "Um, do you happen to know what the weight is on this bar I'm lifting? It doesn't say and I have no clue" who encouragingly replies, "Oh, that's at least 45 pounds!" There's the people who "like" my FB posts when I mention this in my status. If somebody is being condescending, it's their problem. It really is, and I really believe this. And I really need to believe that original poster's heart was in the right place -- but just hasn't been there long enough to know how incredibly condescendingly he is coming off.
<br />
<br />
Because I've been on the side of offering the literal or figurative high five. I've seen the person struggling with climbing that nasty hill on the bike, or trying to squeeze out one more rep on the bench, or just stopping their run because they can't take it one more damn step and I give them a nod or smile of encouragement because, well, frankly, <b><i>I'm looking in the mirror</i></b>. I've been that person <i>wondering if I even belong there </i>in the gym, in the pool, on the bike trail with all these other "athletes" and every time when I'm showering off the sweat and walking out clean and dry and high on endorphins, I know I <i>do</i> belong there. And if you've bothered to lace up your gym shoes and drag your tired butt in there, you do too, no matter what your story or journey is, and and if you look like you could use an encouraging smile I'll have one for you.<br />
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That's what bothered me about a lot of the responses. Sure, original poster dude doesn't know Posnanski's story (and that OP made some ferocious assumptions) but when I offer you a word of encouragement, maybe you don't know my story. Before you get all insulted that I offer you a BTDT, maybe you might want to consider that I have indeed Been There Done That and lived to tell the tale. So, if for whatever reason you're reading this blog, you think I'm inspiring, or just think it's cool that I'm doing this, or writing this, or whatever, I'm totally happy to get your encouragement. I'm insecure enough as it is not to take a compliment or encouraging word at face value. I won't think it patronizing, and if you are trying to be patronizing, that's your problem, not mine.<br />
<br />
Hmm. Maybe I'm not as insecure as I thought. Because I am one fat chick tha-whumping around the track, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYtWnSfdSOc&feature=kp" target="_blank">jamming out to My Chemical Romance</a> not giving a crap about what people are saying about me (unless it's good!) (Yes, I'm a 53-year-old fat broad who jams out to her teenage daughter's playlist.) And (I love this phrase, I wish I'd come up with it) I'm <b><i>secreting awesomeness</i></b> as I do it.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, here's <a href="http://gustavoalfaro.com/2014/03/dont-make-fun/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">another great post about how to put a condescending asshole in their place</a>. Enjoy.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-65196077317107480962014-02-27T11:09:00.003-08:002014-02-27T11:14:32.699-08:00My low hanging fruit is in the shopI admit it. I'm one of those people who go for the path of least resistance, the easy/fun way out, the low-hanging fruit. I guess that's why this Triathlon is probably a good thing for me, and being that I'm giving up bitching about the weather for Lent, I really can't complain about the fact that the weather is stopping me from doing my favorite athletic thing of them all: riding my bike.<br />
<br />
See, that's my favorite part of the tri altogether: the bike. I say without hesitation, I am a cyclist. I finish in the top 10% of all the entrants in the bike portion. I've been in love with bike riding ever since I got my training wheels off. I didn't even own a car until my 30s. Up till then it was my bike, public transportation, and mooching rides from friends. I won't even have to "start training" for the bike portion of the tri, which at 20 K isn't even a "long ride" for me. I'm already in condition to blast out a dozen miles.That's just an <i>errand</i>. My summertime commute is longer than that.<br />
<br />
No, I have to train on the<i> running</i> track, and for a race that's 7 months away, I'm not doing too bad. Last week I was all giddy that I could run 12 minutes without stopping; this week I'm at 18, and the goal is to be at 20 ish by the next time I write. Last time I did the tri, I did the 5K run portion in about 36 minutes. OK, you're not impressed and you shouldn't be. That pace is about as slow as you can go and still call it "running." But I ran the whole thing, dammit, which is more than I can say for some of the other athletes. Still, here's the thing: I'm really not in love with running. Running is more like this medicine that's good for me, and I feel good afterwards, but I really don't like it all that much. I have friends who do marathons and half marathons and appear to really enjoy it. Well, good for them.<br />
<br />
This is as opposed to the absolute euphoria I live for when<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/493573656/in/set-72157600203724741" target="_blank"> climbing up a hill against the wind on my bike. </a>Yes, I love that. Partially because it's a bitch to do, but I'm rewarded not only with a downhill cruise, but that feeling of getting to look behind at the hill I just climbed and confidently say to myself, "V'ron, you are a badass." So I don't hate running because running is hard. I just don't like it. Even with an excellent playlist burning in my ears.<br />
<br />
But that's the thing about a challenge, isn't it? If everything about a challenge was wonderful and enjoyable, then it wouldn't be a<i> challenge,</i> now would it? A challenge is not about just going for the low hanging fruit. It's about going all the way up the tree, to those scary high branches, and having faced that is it's own reward. Yesterday on the track I did 12 minutes and really felt like stopping, but darn it, I did 18 the other day and I can't go back now. So I dialed in some <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCLv_t6AVdw" target="_blank">eurpoean electronica on my ipod </a>that I knew would last for 6 more minutes and off I went.<br />
<br />
Besides, I kind of have no choice. I have to focus on running now because frankly, it's just too damn cold to hit the bike trails these days. I'm a badass on a bike but I'm not <i>that</i> badass -- I need at least 40 degrees outside before I'm riding. And on top of that, my bike is in the shop (South Shore Cyclery is having a service special right now!) So, I'm just going to have to <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/sets/72157626569757720/with/5650875473/#" target="_blank">wait until Easter for some delicious low hanging fruit</a>. I'll have earned it.<br />
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Down 2 more pounds this week, BTW.<br />
<br />
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<br />V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-83161716111088255912014-02-20T10:37:00.000-08:002014-02-21T18:12:50.681-08:00Callouses: Story of my life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I need to build up some callouses: fingers and feet</td></tr>
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So, I did it. I registered for the Iron Girl Triathlon in Pleasant Prairie (oh, it's really Kenosha, folks) this summer. I paid the money. Now I've <b><i>committed</i></b> to it. I was going to do this last summer, but too much fertilizer was hitting the cooling device then. Now I have a pile of personal and physical reasons to go back to Kenosha and <a href="http://ttfsb.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-triathlon-by-veronica-rusnak.html">feel as wonderful as I did the first time I did this.</a> This has been festering in me for some time.<br />
<br />
I spent last summer grabbing my bike, driving out to the sticks, and just piling on it in the hot, stinking weather. I love riding my bike on a hot, stinkin' humid day (and when possible, taking a break in the middle to jump in the lake, fully clothed, only to be relatively dry by the time I rode another 15 miles to finish my ride.) I <a href="http://www.endomondo.com/workouts/217993857/11128908">was putting on between 30-40 miles on weekend days.</a> It felt great. Then last September, I started jumping into the pool. I've been religiously swimming in the wee hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays before work. Even today, while the snow and cold flurried outside, there I was, at 6:30 am in the Tosa Y, putting in 30 laps.<br />
<br />
Then two weeks ago, I got off the stairclimber and instead of cooling down by walking around the indoor track at the downtown YMCA, I was too hyped up, loaded with way too much nervous/kinetic energy. I did something I hadn't done in a couple years. Not because I was thinking about doing this, but more because I just needed to do something with this spazzed out energy. I ran two laps around the track before I stopped and thought to myself not, "Wow, that was hard. No wonder I don't run." No, honeys, it wasn't that at all. You know what it was?<br />
<br />
"Crap, how old are these shoes? These shoes SUCK! I need some new springy running shoes."<br />
<br />
So last week while I was at a sporting goods store getting a whole lot of other crap for family, I walked past the athletic shoe display, did a double take, and picked up some new rides. Tried on some hipper looking ones, but then realized, "No, you're going to run in these, V'ron. This is not the time to look hip in cool colors. You need your sensible, go-to brand/style." So I got the relatively plain, but road tested for me Saucony Grids. They were on sale. I brought them home and put them on and jumped up and down (I love the feel of new gym shoes!) And I went to the Y the next day and climbed the stairmaster and I walked over to the track, and started running. Baby steps here. I'm not doing the Tri-distance 5 K yet. But I did do 10 minutes. And the next day, I did 11 minutes. (25 more to go, to work my way up to my historical average to do a 5K.) And the day after that I did 11.5 minutes.<br />
<br />
OK then. This is it. This is the year I go back to Kenosha.<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, I forgot, I have to break these shoes in! Oh crap! I'm brewing a blister! (Now I know that people tell me you shouldn't have to break shoes in, but if I get them in a different size, once I break them in they will be wrong.) No, I've had to freshen up my callouses my whole life. My feet are an odd shape and there is no such thing as a shoe I don't have to break in. I just have to build up new callouses if I'm going to do this. Story of my life. <br />
<br />
I mean, my band is playing out in April for the first time in a couple of years, and I put new strings on my guitar and started practicing the other day and same thing happened. Duh, long time away from the instrument + fresh strings = sore fingertips. No, I don't <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqUq2Da7d5c">got blisters on my fingers</a>, but they are pretty damn sore. I just have to build up new callouses on them, too, if I'm going to do this. Story of my life (truth be told, story of any guitarist's life.)<br />
<br />
And I'm back on this fat blog, which means I have to prepare for the eventual fat hate from internet trolls who have no clue what trying to fight fat issues is like. Oh, they are so tiresome! "Oh, should a fat girl like you be running? Is that good for you? Why are you bothering? You're just a fattie! Just eat less!" Seriously, <b><i>people do this shit</i></b>. People are<b><i> fucking mean.</i></b> Remember the wonderful Fat Girl On a Bike blog? Sarah ended up having to go dark <a href="http://kateharding.net/2007/10/22/guest-blogger-sarah-why-the-fat-girl-on-a-bike-blog-is-going-on-hiatus/">because the abuse from chickenshit dickslaps hiding under the cover of internet anonymity</a> just got to be too much. Fortunately there are plenty of <a href="http://ttfsb.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-could-and-i-should-and-i-did.html">other fat chick athletes to lean on and laugh with me when the dickslap factor gets high.</a> So I'm just going to have to put a few callouses on my soul, too, if I'm going to do this. Story of my life.<br />
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<br />V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-33202565068077011202013-08-02T08:52:00.001-07:002013-08-04T08:00:29.567-07:00Rebound, recover, rejuvinate<div class="MsoNormal">
OK, when was the last time I posted here? Well, here I go again. I'm a month into another volume of "This time for sure..." and I've dropped seven pounds. Still not telling you just how far out of control I got. But I'm really exercising a lot, and that's what I'm going to be writing about. So, without any further adieu...</div>
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I'll start with a disclaimer: I’m not into pain. Not in the least bit. I ask for novocaine
just to get my teeth drilled. When I went into labor, I didn't even attempt to
go all pioneer woman and do it unmedicated: “Call the anesthesiologist and
let’s get the epidural going....”. I keep the house well stocked with
ibuprofen, arnica gel, cold packs, and the like. I don't like pain and I don't invite it into my life. The reason I’m telling you this is that you may get the
impression from the rest of this that I am into pain. Not in the least. What it
is, I think, is that I respect what pain is about – and further, I respect
being able to recover from it. So, while I don’t go out looking for pain – I
avoid it at all costs – I acknowledge that there are some times when you cannot
escape from it. So that's the disclaimer. </div>
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So here’s the thing that I am writing about here: I’m kind
of into the concept of bouncing back from it. Specifically, massive wipeouts,
which happen to me a lot because a) I ride my bike a LOT, especially in the
summer, and b) I’m a klutz.<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/sets/72157619843530250/with/634671291/"> I even document my wipeouts.</a> I take pictures of my scars,
(except for this recent one, simply because it didn’t look as impressive as it
was.)</div>
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Because, I have to admit this, recovering from a wipout and
dusting myself off and moving is, well, kind of cool. So, here, listen to this while you read the rest of this post. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/W5D07c0dJuQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Once the pain of the wipout kind of dies down, I’m usually
far away from my car or my house, and I still have to get back to the
car/house/other safe place to deal with the results of the wipeout, be it some
torn open skin (and resulting blood), or a nasty bruise (and that can be
plural). So I have no choice. I have to just pick myself up and move on.</div>
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Part of the shock of the wipeout is the sudden downshift in
your biological transmission. You’re pounding away, heart rate at 80-90%
max, body temperature up (especially on those hot days I love to ride a bike),
and then BAM! You’re flying through the air or just taking a tumble or
whatever, and suddenly, your legs are not moving at the same rate and they’re
not pushing anything (because you’re prone!) and your heart doesn’t know what
the heck to do for that first minute. Everything in your body has just gone
from Sixty to Zero in three seconds. That’s not good for the tranny. So your
brain says “Cue the swear words!” and out they come. </div>
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This most recent wipeout was a SONAFABITCH wipe out.
Actually, it was more of a (because I kind of saw it coming and couldn’t do
anything about it) damn damn damn DAMN OH SHIT! <b>SONAFA<i>BITCH!!!!</i></b> wipeout. That’s
as opposed to just suddenly cutting yourself with the paring knife (that’s just
a “OH FUCK” or maybe a “OW DAMMIT” wound) .</div>
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But anyway, I’m down. Quick look around to make sure nobody
saw this, because the only thing worse than a wipeout is a wipeout with
<i>witnesses</i>. Especially on the bike trail, because witnesses
there tend to be people in great shape, with their tight little bike jerseys and their <b><i>two</i></b> still-full bottles of water in cages.
I’ve had witnesses before, and they’re perfectly nice about it, and invariably
they’ll ask “Are you OK? Are you hurt?” and my response is “ Well, my ego just
took a major bruising….” and they’ll
offer a nervous laugh, and you can see in their eyes they understand<i> exactly</i> what you mean. But I’d rather not have witnesses at all. If I need help, that’s
what a cell phone is for. So I’m down. Wiggle fingers and toes, and then stand
up. Yup, legs still work. Arms do too. Roll shoulders and back, just like at
the end of an aerobics class. A little sore and stiff, but they work too. Good.
OK, sit the fuck back down and take more inventory. Blood? Yup, a little on my
knee. But that’s about it this go round, I think -- fortunately, when I realized I was
going down, I headed for the grass as best I could to minimize the roadburn (especially on this
crushed limestone trail). </div>
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Next: equipment inventory. Holy crap, my bike seat got
totally turned. And dammit, the chain didn’t just fall off. It’s stuck
inbetween the last sprocket and the derailleur. Oh, this
<i>sucks.</i>. Look inside my handlebar bag – there’s my tool that
I got as SWAG when I was in the Danskin Triathon. Best piece of SWAG ever. It’s
not helpful here, but it’s what I’ve got to try to pry loose my chain from that
spot without breaking it. Shift a few times to move the derailleur over – OK,
this is taking way too long. Sonafabitch. OK, it’s fixed. Oh goody, my hands are now covered with nasty used bicycle grease. Now, get out the cell
phone and call Brian and let him know I’m running late (which means he’ll be
late for where he needs to be, rehearsing with his band). Shit, I’ve still got fifteen miles until I get back to the car. "Hon, it's at least an hour before I'm back on the road..." OK, seat’s straightened out. Brakes
work? Yup. Gears shifting. Yup. Oh, my ass feels sore. Oooh that feels like a
bruise. Drink some water. Pour some on that bloody knee to cool it down, and
finish it off with a dab of Neosporin I keep in that same handlebar bag. Mount the bike and go.</div>
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But here’s the thing. Five minutes of riding and
despite my sore butt, the bruise that’s getting even more colorful just below
my wrist (but not ON my wrist, curiously), and the bloody elbow I just noticed
(that’s going to form a crusty scab), I’ve <i>recovered</i> from
this crash. And that’s kind of cool. No, it’s beyond cool, it’s downright
exhilarating. I had a massive wipeout and I literally picked myself up, brushed myself off, got back on and kept
riding. Woo Hoo! I’m back! I’m on the
trail! Internal transmission still works and I’m moving back into high(er)
gear. Not high gear. Need to work back up to that, probably on another day.
Being very careful and cognizant of my surroundings, I’m not 100% and I’m not
going to ride like it. But still, I’ve got to get back to the car. I rock! </div>
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Ah, the car. Since it was a stinking hot day, I knew I’d
want some cold drinks when I was done and thus I had a cooler in the car. With ICE. Iced the
bruises for a bit, and then had to load the bike back on the car. That meant
lifting it up over my head, like I had 100% of my muscles back. Oh crap, my ass really hurts. Still,
I have recovered from this crash. God, that fresh peach and banana I put in the
cooler are the BEST DAMN PIECES OF FRUIT I HAVE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE. </div>
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My car has working AC. Hallelujah. And the Gatorade is cold. Check the rearview mirror. What the hell is that on my face? It's a bruise! Oh, dear God, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9B_9YeVhsw">not the face</a>! Oh, now everybody's going to think I got in a fight. Well, I kind of did. I had a fight with the road and the road won. Now I have to drive all the way up Loomis holding this giant icepack to my face. Still, I'm on my way <i>home</i>, not the hospital. </div>
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And there I am, home. After an OK bike ride, an exhilirating wipeout, recover and regroup. I think I'll just order a pizza. </div>
V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-68237673395912691042011-10-06T11:19:00.001-07:002011-10-06T11:23:25.715-07:00Pink Soup<div style="float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 10px;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/6173474997/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6169/6173474997_66da151672_m.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br />
<span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/6173474997/">Pink Soup</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/">V'ron</a>. </span></div>
This week, I made the pink soup. It's a fall treat I make every year that's basically a root vegetable soup that becomes pink because beets are among the root vegetables. This year's concoction came completely from organic roots sourced from both the South Shore and the West Allis Farmers' markets. If you only care about organic vegetables in a passing way, well, if you don't insist on organic on anything else, you want organic root vegetables: onions, potatoes, carrots. And I wish I liked radishes. Lots of people don't like my pink soup because, as pretty as it is, they can't stand beets. Well, as pretty as they are, I can't stand radishes. (I do, however, enjoy horseradish). I was at the 'Stallis Farmer's market last week, and this one organic farmer had <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/6218040002/in/photostream">the most <i>beautiful</i> radishes in a variety of colors.</a> He emphasized that some of them weren't as harsh as regular radishes. I asked if I could buy just one though, and he would only sell as a set. Oy.<br />
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But my pink soup is based on a root vegetable soup in SallySchneider's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/New-Way-Cook-Sally-Schneider/dp/1579651887/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top"> A New Way To Cook</a>. Following her basic lead, here's what I did:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Went to the market and bought some fresh leeks, onions, garlic, celery root, a bunch of gorgeous parsnips, potatoes and of course, beets.</li>
<li>Cut up the leeks and a few onions and sauteed them in some Wisconsin butter. (This is truly a locavore recipe). </li>
<li>Peeled and cut up the celery root, two small potatoes (one red and one yellow), and the parsnips and the beets and dumped them in and sauteed a bit just to get a bit of carmelized flavor</li>
<li>Dumped in about 4 cups of chicken stock (that I had in the freezer, made of course, with chicken carcasses and vegetable scraps from local sources)</li>
<li>let this cook for 2 hours until the vegetables were all soft</li>
<li>Grabbed my handy stick blender (as Steve Albini asks, <a href="http://mariobatalivoice.blogspot.com/2011/04/tomato-ditalini-soup-and-toasted-cheese.html">how did people make soup before stick blenders?</a>) and pureed it down.</li>
<li>Stirred in about a cup of skim milk to lighten the color a bit.</li>
<li>Garnished and plated my completed pink soup.</li>
</ul>
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This came in at about 150 calories for a bowl. And I came in a pound down this week.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-84558055924740058472011-09-18T07:58:00.001-07:002018-05-14T16:18:08.087-07:00I continue to eat well (locally)<div style="float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 10px;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/6142433004/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="https://farm7.static.flickr.com/6168/6142433004_0bef8ea84e_m.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;"></a> <br />
<span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/6142433004/">The Oats lady is back!</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/">V'ron</a>. </span></div>
The relative ease of being a relative locavore continues. Blueberries are gone, but Michigan peaches are still about, and the melons are coming in with a venegance and they are actually good for smoothies. There's a wonderful cheesemaker who makes some really good cheese. I was buying a wedge of her really nice cheddar, and raving about how good it is stirred into steel cut oats. And whaddaya know, the oat lady was finally around with bags of steel-cut and other oats! Yum. Now I can make <a href="http://www.mykitchenintherockies.com/2012/06/27/pennys-sexed-up-savory-oats/">this wonderful recipe that my online friend Mimi turned me onto</a> with ((except for the sea salt and the really good Olive Oil) completely local ingredients. It's called Sexed Up Oatmeal.<br />
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Like the recipe says, this works wonderfully but you really have to use top ingredients. Do NOT use pre-shredded Kraft cheese. You will need too much to get the flavor, and everything that is good and wonderful and wholesome about this will go kaput in a haze of over-cheesing. No, you want really good, flavorful, sharp (and i've used parmesan or some good stinky cheese made by my favorite cheese lady) cheddar for this. You also want <i>excellent</i> olive oil for this. You want to taste the fruityness of the olives. This is not the big ol bottle of cheap olive oil you use for cooking or salad dressing. This is the tiny bottle that just smells amazing when you open it. And that's the thing about eating this way. Cheese and oil are not <i>ingredients,</i> they are flavor agents. <br />
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So I loaded up this morning with this savory oatmeal which kept me really happy most of the morning, and finished it off with a peach. Had grass-fed beef burgers over the weekend and I dropped a pound this week. Half the battle I've learned over the years is enjoying, really enjoying your foodinstead of just slamming it down. That's easier to do when you feel good about it on a number of levels.<br />
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Holding stead this week, no gains, no losses.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-88706841480728323162011-09-07T10:01:00.001-07:002011-09-07T10:04:26.266-07:00Jumping back on to the (local) bandwagonOK, fine, I admit it. I've fallen severely off the wagon and I'm not admitting just how much until I've climbed comfortably back on. Let's just say at least I dropped some 10 pounds over the summer, but I have some ways to go before I get back to where I was on a roll.
I've decided to start writing again, on weight and body issues, mostly to keep myself going.<br />
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Right now, it's kind of easy to eat well. It's September in Wisconsin, and the farmer's markets are bursting with excellent fresh fruit and vegetables. I've even been able to pretty much eat ~80% local. I just made a wonderful potato leek soup with ingredients I got from the farmer's market, and even the chicken stock was made with carcasses I had from local chickens I roasted by putting them over cans of locally-brewed beer. We've had a lot of meals like this lately. Pizza on the grill made with fresh, not even cooked, tomato sauce, and topped with veggies I picked up at the market. Pasta covered with a pile of sauteed vegetables. Stir fries made with those same sauteed veggies, augmented with some locally-raised, grass fed beef, topped with a touch of shredded, local cheese. (There's this one cheesmaker that makes a wedge called Saxony that I've been all over lately.) Breakfast made with free-range chicken eggs, with uncured bacon on the side.<br />
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Just yesterday I picked up some fresh broccoli, and not in heads, either. The farmer had already picked off stalks, because it's the second picking and that main shoot that comes off a broccoli head just divides up into several smaller shoots that come later in the season. And she was right: this broccoli was actually sweet and -- get this -- juicy. We had it lightly steamed as a side dish for dinner last night. And I just snacked on these wonderful grape tomatoes that were incredibly flavorful -- almost salty without the added salt. I went to Woodman's for my weekly grocery run, and I pretty much skipped the produce section because I loaded up direct from the farmers the day before. And that's saying a lot, because Woodman's produce section rocks. I'm pretty much a Woodman's fan all around -- they *do* have a lot of fairly local brands, and lots of independent producers are there on weekends handing out free samples of their stuff. The only place that beats Woodman's is of course, our locally-owned and operated natural foods co-op, the Outpost. But like most of those natural foods co-ops, they can get pricey -- they don't have the economy of scale that a larger place such as Woodman's, enjoys.<br />
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But yes, it's easy to eat well and wonderful this time of year, which makes this a good time of year to get back on the wagon. It's a good time to develop a taste for fruits and veggies, when they're at their best, so that when winter kicks in and the tomatoes are once again tasteless and mealy and not quite ripe, you still find uses for them. (I found a recipe for oven roasted tomatoes in <a href="http://www.anewwaytocook.com/Pages/ANWTC/anwtc_home.htm">A New Way To Cook</a> that really does make nasty, mealy greenhouse romas worthwhile -- just slow roast them in the oven for about 4 hours and use 'em in a soup.) Being a locavore means I'm eating a lot less crap, and crap is what really puts on the pounds, those pounds I'm not admitting to quite yet. So that's my gocal for this month: really stick with being a locavore and developing a taste (and the time) to keep an eye out for making good food.<br />
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Oh, and dropping another four or five pounds would be good, too. V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-52557346036981859702010-06-08T18:59:00.001-07:002010-06-08T19:02:48.119-07:00Climbing down and then back up<div style="float: left; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/4671973608/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4671973608_d6c40be0c7_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/4671973608/">We climbed down and<BR>back UP this cliff</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/sixthstation/">V'ron</a>. </span></div>Well, it's been awhile. I've admittedly been dark. And I have no good reason, just the excuse of stress, which is starting to lay off a bit. However, I did gain all the weight I lost back, and now I've had to work up the guts to admit this to the world. I was unemployed for a year, and underemployed for some of it. I'm on a contract job now, and I'm at a point when I can concentrate on weight loss.<br /><br />Oh, and I can do without the lecture about how, while I was stressed out, I should have been taking care of myself. Well, I kind of was. I was anesthetising myself with comfort food. And whatever they say about how stress raises your cortisol levels (and subsequently lowers your metabolism), I'm ready to believe. I wasn't stuffing myself, but I was gaining weight, even with exercising, and even trying to keep an eye on what I was eating. But still, I purposely wasn't paying hard attention until even my fat clothes were starting to feel tight. Ugh.<br /><br />So, here's this picture. Last week, the kids and I went for a hike and we saw this giant cliff down to the beach, and the kids <I>really</i> wanted to climb down. And i knew that we'd need to climb back UP. It's something I would have done without hesitation five years ago, but right now, I was actually afraid of going down that cliff, as overweight and out of shape I am, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to climb back up.<br /><br />"Puh-LEASE?" the kids begged. I couldn't say no. "We'll help you climb back up!" Yeah right. You and your 11 and 6 year old bodies are gonna haul my 200+ ass up a giant cliff. But, I went down. And climbing back up wasn't easy. At one point, I kind of got stuck. I could feel my calves burning while trying to figure out how to get past this one spot. Stella offered her hand, and I didn't want to pull her down, so I took it for the split second it took me to get to the next root in the ground. And I did it. I can't be afraid of this anymore, and I can't be afraid of going online anymore. <br /><br />Anyway, I'm back, and true to the title, This Time For Sure. Like Jane at the Fatslayer Chronicles said, something to the tune of, ya fall down seven times, well, ya get up eight. And speaking of her, it's nice to see she's back. I'd just begun to follow her when she went dark for awhile, and was sad when she did. Now I understand. Whatever it was, she had stuff going on in her life (which she explained before she went dark) and needed to concentrate on that. I can totally relate. <br /><br />I think it was PastaQueen (who's also still blogging -- she's met her goal and now maintaining, and dealing with dreadful constant chronic headaches to boot, but she still has her magnificent sense of humor) who'd posted a while back about seeing various bloggers come and go, partially because many didn't necessarily give up on weight loss, but gave up on blogging. It's HARD to come up with something new and interesting when you've been doing it awhile. (Pasta Queen still manages to!) But also, she pointed out (wish I could find the post) that now that we have Fadcebook and Twitter, a tweet or FB status is all many of us have time to do. Rebecca is still going Durch Dick und Duenn, Amy is still wondering if this font makes her look fat, <br /><br />Anyway, I ran down my blogroll and cleaned it out of people who seem to have gone dark permanently. Some aren't blogging about weightloss, but they're still a good read and I discovered them via weightloss blogging. Case in point: Big Ass Belle, who has decided she's happy with what she's got but still has a lot of things to say. The Angry Fat Girls have moved and published a book (which I should probably read, since I was a fan of their blog).<br /><br />I'm gonna miss:<br /><ul><LI><A href="http://bigblondebombshell.blogspot.com/">Big Blonde Bombshell</a> and her acerbic comebacks to people who hassled her<br /><LI><A href="http://nicoleafw.wordpress.com/">Anonymous Fat Woman</a> and her brilliant posts (I know her in real life now, and she's still brilliant and I'm glad I know how to find her elsewhere on the web.... she's still anonymous...)<br /><LI><A href="http://nicolew.typepad.com/dumbbell/">Dumbell in a Home Gym</a>, a motivating blogger who'd come back from about where I am now....<br /><LI><A href="http://fatgirlcamp.blogspot.com/">Fat Girl Camp, which appears to have closed for the season</a><br /><LI><A href="http://plork.blogspot.com/">Anne, who had WLS</a> and went on to bigger and better writing escapades<br /><LI><A href="http://www.reneegetsfit.com/">Renee getting fit</a> and <br /><LI><A href="http://theunbearablefatnessofbeingme.blogspot.com/">The unbearable fatness of being </a>Coco </ul><br /><br />OK, I'm still not where I was last time I blogged, and I'm too chickenshit to give you a Wednesday Weigh In yet. Let's just say I climbed up that cliff and beyond that, lemme get back on track first. Suffice to say, I've dropped five pounds in the past month. And I'm back. This Time For Sure.<br clear="all" />V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-48331102157860423952009-09-21T13:05:00.001-07:002009-09-21T14:01:40.591-07:00I wanna job<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/xSyUTydzAD4' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/xSyUTydzAD4'/></object></embed></p></div><br /><br />OK, this video pretty much illustrates why I haven't been posting a whole lot lately. I've been busy looking for work, and you'd be amazed (or maybe not) at just how exhausting -- both emotionally and physically -- being unemployed is. So much so that I'm here to tell you that this whole Maslow's hierarchy thing has a lot to it. My big worries these days are not "What is my BMI?" or "How much has my fat percentage decreased over time. " However, I do have to watch my weight so that I can fit in a darn interview suit.<br /><br />You'd be amazed how fattening stress is. I've gained all the weight back that I lost when I started this blog. I'm up to 248. This sucks. I'm stress eating, and ugh. However, lately, I've been making an effort to exercise every day. I go for bike rides that help take my mind off this. It's the end of he summer, so good healthy food is plentiful and cheap. I'm going to try to start writing again, but by top priority is summarized in this song. So there you go.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-73020565503123743002009-02-12T11:42:00.001-08:002009-02-12T20:47:48.182-08:00Little Victories in the Enchanted Broccoli Forest<div style="float: left; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/3274236311/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3528/3274236311_bf3a70b428_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/3274236311/">The Enchanted Broccoli Forest</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/sixthstation/">V'ron</a>. </span></div>Wednesday Weigh In (even though it's Thursday), 249.1, so only down a half pound. Still, I was quote unquote, good. Writing down everything. Working out every day. It's those times you have to remember that the a victory isn't always reflected on the scale.<br /><br />And it wasn't just the writing down of EVERYTHING that was a victory. The kids are on this "trying new foods" kick and you best be sure I'm capitalizing on it. Just the other day, Sammy noticed one of my favorite cookbooks, Mollie Katzen's "The Enchanted Broccoli Forest" and he's been begging to make that recipe. (The fact that I have a 5 year old boy who loves broccoli is celebratory enough.)<br /><br />As you can see, our version of it bears little resemblance to <A href="http://www.fabulousfoods.com/recipes/article/181/18546">Chef Katzen's version.</a> But Stella, who loves red peppers, said that this forest needed some people, and the red peppers could be the people. (If a broccoli tree falls, and there are no people to hear it.....). <br /><br />Being home a lot these days (I'm looking for work) is giving the opportunity to cook from scratch a lot more, which means I have more control into what goes into my food. That's a victory in itself, too.<br clear="all" />V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-9941249766662528512009-02-12T11:34:00.000-08:002009-02-12T11:35:40.608-08:00Wups -- accidentally deleted last week's postFor the record, weekly weigh in was at 249.6, and I had nothing really profound to say. so it's not like we missed anything here, friends.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-76341255967634872612009-02-02T11:55:00.001-08:002009-02-02T12:30:10.769-08:00I'm back! And I'm annoyed.No really, I am. I've been admittedly lax. I've been stressed, I've had a lot going on in my life, and I gained all the weight back that I lost. And I'm not happy about that, not one little bit. In fact, I'm a bit over the line. I'm at 250. So I finally said, this has got to stop, and I'm back on the wagon. Part it it was realizing, "I really don't want to have to do the Danskin Triathlon carrying an extra 25 pounds. I just don't. It's bad enough I slowed down in the run this year." I was training in the pool this weekend thinking, "I really don't want to have to buy a new tri suit."<br /><br />So get this: the Danskin for the Chicagoland area (because even when it's in Wisconsin, it's still Chicagoland!) is TBD this year. It's usually the weekend after July 4, and that's fairly convenient. I'm wondering why they haven't published this yet and I just learned the answer today: the <I>Trek</i> Women's Triathlon is that weekend in Kenosha. I was actually quite happy to see such a thing -- so somebody besides Danskin is sponsoring a women's series. Cool!<br /><br />Except for one thing.<br /><br />See, on of the reasons I felt totally at home at the Danskin was that, as a large woman, I wasn't called out. We're separated by age and that's it. There's one more wave that's called out (besides elite competitors, which is standard for any race), and that's the Survivor wave, and that seems to be more of an honor than an advantage/disadvantage. They get to go first (after the elite racers) after all. But as a large woman, I'm in a heat with other women my age, we're all together, and, as I posted after my first Danskin Tri <A href="http://ttfsb.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-triathlon-by-veronica-rusnak.html"><I>we're all considered athletes.</i></a><br /><br />But the folks at Trek seem to have missed this very important point. There's age and elite and survivor designations, but there's also <A href="http://www.trekwomenstriathlonseries.com/registration_catagories.html">"Athena."</A> Do I need to tell you what "Athena" means? Neither did Trek. C'mon, everybody knows that when you use any ancient western goddess besides Aphrodite, it's code for "the fatties." (Note to Trek -- it's usually Juno/Hera that gets designated for the "large/mature" woman. ) <br /><br />That in itself wouldn't as bad (yes it would but I'm saving the best for last), guess what the cutoff weight is to be eligible to compete as an "Athena." 150 pounds! What, if we weigh more than 150 pounds, we couldn't possibly have a chance against the other athletes in our age category? Because, Trek, consider this -- in the bike portion, yes that's YOUR main product, I've finished in the top 11 percent of all people in that category when I raced the Danskin the past two years. I went <I>flying</i> past plenty of women who were definitely under 150 pounds. I had younger and smaller women come up to me afterwards and say, "You are an <I>awesome</i> cyclist."<br /><br />And, when I lose the weight (c'mon, I admit, I'm still trying to lose, but frankly, my goal is still above the 150 pound cutoff...) I'll still be "eligible" to compete as an "Athena." I have broad shoulders. I have thunder thighs. My goal of ~160-180s is appropriate for my age, build, and lifestyle. But according to Trek, the <A href="http://shakespearessister.blogspot.com/2007/09/why-bmi-is-crock-in-pictures.html">BMI scale,</a> and a bazillion blowhards who have nothing to do but hate on women who don't meet ridiculous standards of weight, we're still "Athena." That's fat. As in, "too fat to compete with the <I>real</i> athletes." But really, if I drop 100 pounds from where I am today (at 250) you can bet my fat percentage is going to be way down. It's going to be way down, probably near the "Average" place if I hit 175, for chrissakes.<br /><br /> I'm glad that Trek (as well as other companies, such as woman-designed and woman-run <A href="http://www.terrybicycles.com">Terry Bicycles></a>) makes bicycles with Women Specific Design. (Even though, with my relatively long torso, broad shoulders and relative long wingspan, WSD bikes solve problems I don't have!) I'm glad this whole industry has begun to notice that women love bicycling as much as men, and is catering to that market.<br /><br />But Trek, if you're going to take the place of my beloved Danskin, a race I entered and enjoyed without being separated out because of my weight, you need to understand that one of the big points of a women's triathlon is to unite us all as athletes, to make us really believe that we all belong out there, that we are all participating in an athletic endeavor. At this point, I'm still waiting to find out where Danskin will end up having the "Chicagoland" race, cos frankly, I'm a little reluctant to do yours, and certainly I won't be registering as an "Athena." If I do the Trek (because Danskin Chicagoland is unavailable for me), I'm entering in the 45-50 age group.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-27051643860723141372008-07-24T13:58:00.000-07:002008-07-24T13:59:19.179-07:00Not beating myself up over not beating myself238.2. Here I am again. I've done a LOT of bike riding, even more so because my car's in the shop, so those last few things I've done by car have succumbed to the bike, and days where I wouldn't have felt like riding I was forced to anyway. The car's out of the shop today; after work I go to pick it up. <br /><br />But still, it was a good thing, in terms of this. It's forced me to re-evaluate how much i drive, how lazy i get, and how easily lazy I get. I've been cooking for myself, too -- not eating out has saved me money and pounds. But I'm still in a high stress time, and I still find myself eating to combat the stress. The answer isn't to wait until the high stress eases off. The answer is to deal with it better. <br /><br />Still, my ego was bruised at the tri last weekend, and that's kind of a good thing. Yeah, I finished, but i didn't beat myself. That's the thing about things like Triathlons. My tri buddy Jen commented last week that i still beat her in time, but that's not what i was going for. As far as I'm concerned, she beat me, because she beat herself. I remember doing cross country running in high school (and track team people were the same about this): the ultimate opponent in any race is yourself. It doesn't matter if you were first or last: if you beat yourself, you've won, and if you didn't -- i don't want to say you've lost, but at the same time... ugh. That's what's getting me. I didn't beat myself. But I'm not beating myself up over it. I just didn't hit an unwritten goal. <br /><br />So here I am, working out better <I>after</i> this race than before it. Go figure.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-59344157067787348502008-07-14T19:00:00.001-07:002008-07-14T19:03:21.623-07:002nd Gig Blues: Free Your Mind<div style="float: left; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/2667215601/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3232/2667215601_b090e554c7_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/2667215601/">on the bus, after the race, quite pleased with myself</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/sixthstation/">V'ron</a>. </span></div>OK, numbers first --I'm still hovering around 240, so weightloss hasn't been a priority lately. I ran the Danskin Triathlon this weekend, and I finished almost exactly with the same time 1:47:20 as <A href=" http://ttfsb.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-triathlon-by-veronica-rusnak.html">I did last year </a>(1:46:51), but with improvements and disappointments.<br /><br />Improvements and disappointments: <br /><UL><LI>I shaved off about 3 minutes from my transition time.<br /><LI>I massively improved on the swim. Part of that can be attributed to the fact that we weren't swimming against the wind this year, but still. Still,I shaved 2 minutes off my time, putting my swim rank in the top 28% overall (up from being in the top half last year), and the top 20 percent of my age class. So, I really improved in the swim, and I think I'll attribute that to really concentrating on staying on course, and not starting off so hard that I poop out a quarter of the way through.<br /><LI> On the record, I only improved my bike run by 10 seconds, but my chain fell while upshifting, and got stuck in the spot between the front chainring and the crank. That took about 1:30 to repair, plus about a half minute of regaining my momentum. So had this not happened, at the pace I was at, i would have improved greately. And I'm still a bicycling badass, in the top 11% overall and top 12% of my age class. In fact, at least a few women spotted me at the end and told me they though I was an awesome cyclist, which was a bit of a rush. So I bet I would have finished in the top 10% (which was my goal) if not for mechanical failure. I hope I inspired others, as we climbed hills together, as I told them, "Keep Pushing" or my favorite, "Uphill and against the wind! Are we loving this, girls?" There was one woman whose gear kept clicking clicking clicking and I learned by overhearing another telling her, "Downshift and then shift back up, you'll expend too much energy trying to pedal like that!" It was good advice, and the woman followed it. It was advice I was about to give myself, but I didn't want to come of f as too know it all. That advice giving woman taught me there's no such thing. Advice given with a true heart is not a bad idea-- the recipient can either take it or leave it. <br /><LI>OK, all that gain in the transition and the swim was lost on the run. I was up by 3 1/2 minutes this year, but at least I still ran (if you want to call what I did running, OK) the whole thing, which was my goal. I did not walk a step. I have to figure when you weight 20 pounds more than you did the last time you did this, you're going to be slower on the run. But I still ran it.</li> </ul><br />OK, here it is. I just didn't train as hard for this year as I did for last year. For one thing, I've been super busy, and had the accompanying stress. Just this past week, I was considering blowing off the tri, dealing with a major financial setback (the transmissions on BOTH our cars went kaput this week) but ol DH said, no, you need to do this. And so I did and I'm glad, even though I didn't show an overall marked improvement. I had <A href="http://the6thstation.blogspot.com/2008/02/power-of-surf.html">Second Gig Ever Curse.</a> Last year, I used a band analogy to describe the waiting for the race to start, this year's band analogy will be used as an excuse for my performance. Let's face it, I did it last year, was quite pleased with myself, and didn't take the second gig as seriously. As a result, results were not as satisfactory. Those numbers posted in the run are the kick in the ass I need.<br />That's my problem with weightloss in general. I get a little success, I get cocky, and then I get lazy. Look at my photo this year -- I even know, on that bus, that this year I didn't deliver with my whole heart. Although, that last stretch of the run, my heart was the only thing that kept me going. In fact, God bless the women who had En Vogue's "Free Your Mind" blaring from a boombox at the last turnaround. I belted it out with em, using George Clinton's original lyrics -- Free your mind and your ass will follow. <br /><br />A few other highlights, musically and otherwise:<br /><UL><LI>Every heat gets an inspirational word from Sally Edwards, that you should chant to yourself. This year, my heat's word was "The Best." As in, "I am The Best Swimmer." "I am The Best Cyclist." "I am The Best Runner." However, all I could think of was the scene in <I>Men In Black</i>, where Will Smith is being recruited, and he's in the room with all those military guys, and they're asked, "Do you know why you are here?" and they answer correctly, "Because we are The Best of The Best of The Best! <I><B>Sir!</i></b>" and Will Smith is laughing and going, "Yeah, these guys are cracking me up with all this best of the best of the best stuff and they don't even know why the heck they're here, really." And then i remembered that the reason Smith is ultimately chosen is that, in addition to being street smart, he also chased a major bug through Manhattan on foot, and that's what i had to imagine myself doing if I was going to finish this race. Yes, Sally, <B><I>*I*</i></b> am The Best of The Best of The Best! <I><B>Sir!</i></b> I laughed all the way to the finish line.<br /><LI>My pals Jennifer and Peg improved on their times, and i was secretly jealous of them for that. <br /><LI>This race, however, <A href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/2667215027/">has got to figure out parking</a>. Normally, everybody parks at Dairyland Greyhound Park (a few miles away, but can accomodate 5,000 racers and their families a lot better than the Kenosha Rec Plex, which is kind of a sad statistic), and then you catch a shuttle to the race, and then afterwards, you catch a shuttle back to Dairyland, and then drive your car to the Outlet Mall, catch a shuttle back to the Rec Plex, and then ride your bike the one mile to the mall. I know this sounds convoluted, but it worked. This year, they cut out the shuttles from the mall. So where were you supposed to park to get your bike out of transition? We ended up on the greass out in the country, and without instructions to tell me otherwise, I managed to flag down a sympathetic shuttle driver, because nobody else seemed to know what was going on. Not the Kenosha Police (and I have too many friends in the Kenosha Punk scene to have a fundamental respect for them to begin with, but I've tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and they once again have lived up to their reputation of cluelessness. One more strike, Kenosha Blue, and you're out.). Not even the guy in a van marked "Kenosha Rec Plex." WTH? Huge event at your facility and you know nothing? Whassup with that? And I will whine about the Kenosha hospitality industry on my other blog. <br /><LI>The above is really sad, because it put a major damper on an otherwise wonderful event and day. OK, I didn't finish as well as I would have liked, but I still finished, i still did something practically everybody else I know drops their jaw over ("Half a Mile swim? I'd quit right there") and I still improved my times on some things, despite a 20 pound weight gain this year. <br /><LI>Oh, please, for the love of all that's holy, please no horrid nu-country music or sappy R&B or worst of all, "Eye of the Tiger" while I'm crossing the finish line, and my prayers were answered. I got some unidentifiable, but unmistakably Gay Bar Music! Yes! 120 BPM, high energy, wailing female vocals, where's-my-amyl-nitrite, DANCE MUSIC! Yes! Followed by YMCA! Thank you Jesus! <br /><LI>I will mention the wonderful Crocs shoe company, not because I love their shoes, but because they sponsor an ice bath foot soak for athletes, that pretty much ensured that my plantar fasciatis would not kick in so nasty the next day. God bless 'em. They pretty much justify their existence for that ice bath, and I was only happy to say so on video for them. </ul><br />OK, so that's this year's tri. I'm glad it did it again, and I'm doing it next year. I will shake the 2nd Gig Blues, and I will Free My Mind, and my ass will indeed follow.<br clear="all" />V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-32014845954311329182008-06-11T05:57:00.001-07:002008-06-11T05:58:00.410-07:00The New Scale Works!And it says 237.6, which, while up from last week (and that was a number I really didn't believe anyway), is still down from this massive upswing I've had over the past few months, and it's also a number i can trust. It was'nt five pounds different an hour earlier, or even five minutes earlier. I like it. <br /><br />I've admittedly been off-kilter from detox, but the detox weeks accomplished what they meant to: they sort of broke my dependence on all these morning treats and massive eating all the time i was doing. I'm not so hungry all the time anymore; i can actually think about really trying to do this again, get back on the wagon, and train for this triathlon. <br /><br />That's all for now. The new scale works!V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-45678735504740016542008-06-04T15:22:00.001-07:002008-06-04T15:22:49.677-07:00My Scale's Not Working Right!Well, isn't that usually what people say when the number is too high? No, my number was way too low this morning. It said I lost 17 pounds since last week. As I did not undergo liposuction, I'm pretty sure it's wrong. <br /><br />I wish I could trust my scale. It's a digital scale, and i've had it for at least five years, and maybe it's dying. Because when i weighed in this morning, it said, 223 pounds. I'd love to believe that, but I know for a fact I did not drop 17 pounds last week. Fat Flush notwithstanding, nobody drops that much weight in a week. Then an hour later, it said 235.2, which is what I'll post for this week, but that's still a 5 pound drop. Not as ridiculous, but given the fluctuation on what the scale says (and that's a 20 pound fluctuation), I can't trust it. Another scale is on the way from A mazon. <br /><br />I know that there's a lot of people who believe one should just throw out the scale, but I need an objective metric with which to measure my success or what's working for me and what isn't. And if I can't count on my tool, that just throws everything out the window. So I can't wait for the new scale. Betcha you never heard a fat chick say that before, eh? <br /><br />Meantime, I'm back on the wagon and feeling good. And once again, I'm running the Riverwest Beer Run this Sunday. Yes, it's as preposterous as it sounds. A 1.8-mile race (and there are people who actually RACE it) with four stops, each of which runner down a 12-ounce of barley pop. First person to stagger across the finish line wins. In the spirit of the preposterousness that it is, myself and my friends are doing what we did last year -- running it in evening gowns and tiaras as "Team Prom Queen." Actually, only the two of us are actually running it. The rest are taking it easy. Good for them.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-29119587081814374252008-05-28T18:52:00.000-07:002008-05-28T18:54:27.067-07:00Off and on the wagonI didn't fall off the detox wagon. I planned to step off gently, and I did. I had lovely whole wheat lemon blueberry pancakes like I predicted i would, and took it easy the rest of the day. And I had a cup of Leon's Butter Pecan Frozen custard on Monday to celebrate the summer-like weather. And Tuesday I got right back on the wagon, and here I am. One pound down anyway. <br /><br />240, fat percentage down a point to 47. Not bad for the week preceeding Rickshaw Ride.<br /><br />So I'm back, and feeling good about the control. I hate that i have to be this conscious about it, but I've kvetched about this before.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-40284981583201037152008-05-21T10:54:00.000-07:002008-05-21T10:59:42.227-07:00Week One of Detox... and it's going well, not just because I dropped 3 pounds (that was simply a side effect) but its doing what I intended for it to do: force me to think about everything I eat. It's really odd, but cutting out an entire food group (refined carbs) really got me thinking about all the crap I randomly eat without even thinking about it, and how much crap it really is. A couple of days ago i had the classic carb withdrawl headaches, but now i'm past them, and the meals are seeming really filling. I remember feeling this way the last time I did this.<br /><br />I have to admit though, I'm a bit unclear what I'm going to do this Sunday, when we have a pile of people over to watch Indycar racing, (especially since I traditionally make whole wheat lemon-blueberry pancakes for breakfast for the hardcore race fans who arrive early to watch the Grand Prix of Monaco with us). I think I'll just have to take a day off from it. That's life, and if you can't live life (albeit a carefully planned one), you might as well check out now.<br /><br />Granted, those blueberry pancakes will follow a massive traditional bike ride. <br /><br />Anyway, numbers: 241, fat % at 48. It's good to be back following something, but it's better to have numbers that reflect it.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-3539881568288172292008-05-14T11:20:00.000-07:002008-05-14T11:27:41.375-07:00Jump StartToday (at 245) I started Fat Flush -- phase I, again, not because I need a fad diet, but I need something to force me to think about food. Doing Weight Watchers is <I>too much</i> flexibility, so much that i'm not paying attention to food and why I'm eating it.<br /><br />I've done Ann Gittleman's Fat Flush before, and though i can't possibly eat that way my whole life (phase III even), I do admit I feel great when I do it. It's not Atkins-style low carb, but Phase I -- which only goes for two weeks --is basically a detox from overprocessed carbohydrates. You basically get some fruit for carbs, and that's it. You pound cranberry water (unsweetened cranberry juice diluted -- which is the only way a normal person can take unsweetened cranberry juice), you pound omega-3 rich foods, you develop a relationship with Flax Oil, and you eat meat and avoid salt. There's more to it than that, but clearly it's a detox rather than a diet plan. Phase II become a diet plan, and you get to eat some more carbs, but they're those ones you really should be eating: non processed carbs, whole grain, stuff like that. It's really a healthy plan, doesn't cut out one food group completely, and it works. I can't do it forever, but i need a jumpstart, and I need something that makes me analyze and plan my eating, beacuse I'm out of control. <br /><br />Anyway, that's what I've got this week. A Jump start. <br /><br />Bike to Work week, as I wrote in my regular blog, isn't that big a deal for me simply because I've been biking to work for a couple of months now, and actually a few years during the summer. Still, it's nice to work in a place where I'm not the residetn oddity because I do this. <br /><br />Two months to the triathlon. I best get a move on, literally.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-87391571437274790562008-05-12T10:43:00.000-07:002008-05-12T10:46:28.908-07:00No numbers progress, but reporting in anyway....Well, I'm slowly getting my act together. I'm still hovering about 244 pounds, and I think I'm going to do something like Fat Flush or Atkins or some other low-carb thing, not to necessarily lose weight (but that should come with it), but more to get me into a disciplined way of thinking about food again. I'm not paying attention to points, I'm eating on the run, and it's just not working for me here. And it's bumming me out. Today I'm wearing what one year ago, were loose-fitting work pants. They're tight. I feel like crap.<br /><br />In the meantime, however, on the exercise side, I continue to get my act together. <br /><br /><UL><LI>Rarely do i drive to work these days -- and this being <A href="http://www.biketoworkweek.org/">Bike to Work Week</a> there's all sorts of little incentives all over town (many of which involve snacks and breakfast treats...) for bicyclists. But half the time I don't even bike to work because of the health benefits. It's more about clearing my head. When I arrive at the office after riding for an hour (or, if I'd gotten sweaty, I hit the shower at the Y) I just seem to work better. It's like I've flushed out a load of poison from my system. </li><br /><LI>I started running last week. I suppose I should get a move on on this, seeing as how i'm running a triathlon in July again. Oh, and the Locust Street Beer run in a few weeks. I admittedly avoided getting started again, because i haven't been a very good girl regarding treatment of my plantar fasciatis, but I've taken steps for that. I have a couple of golf balls in my desk at work (to massage my heels after exercise) and a cold pack in the freezer with my name on it to ice down my feet. This stuff really works -- <I>if you do it!</i></li><br /><LI>The nice thing about working normal hours is that I can get more trips to the Y in -- I'll ride my bike, and then shower at the Y, and if i get there early enough, i can lift weights for a bit before hitting the shower. Usually during the summer the weightlifting gets cut way back, but this way, I can at least still get some arm work in.</li><br /><LI>Oh, I earned a "Bronze Award" at the<A href="http://www.presidentschallenge.org/">President's Challenge</a> for Physical Fitness! Not that I'll actually send in for a certificate or anything (I'll wait for Gold....) but still. It's a milestone.</li></ul><br /><br />But the "loose" pants are still tight. I know I shouldn't let this get to me, or maybe I should. Well, whether it should or not, it <I>does</i> get to me, so perhaps maybe this is my wake-up call. There's a whole bunch of people on this blog (and others) who don't update all that often, and I suspect that it's because we see no point in going, "same old, same old." Well, I'm going to force myself to write something weekly, even if I don't lose a single damn pound. Maybe that will help me keep my eyes on the prize.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-29155761230329388342008-04-03T09:22:00.000-07:002008-04-03T09:26:20.555-07:00Spending money on fat clothesOK, numbers: I'm back down (!) to 239.4, so it's down something like 5 from last week, but a net loss over the past two weeks of .4. That's POINT 4, but it's still something.<br /><br />The catalogs for summer sports clothes are coming in, and last summer i was fantazising about ordering only L or XL for this summer, and ain't gonna happen. I need a few more pairs of bike shorts, but I'm loathe to order any in XXL, because that seems to give me permission to stay here, in the mid 200s, instead of in the low 200s or high 100s, where I wanted to be by now, or certainly during this summer. But I have to remember i had this setback, and I still have to look at it as a setback, not a defeat. Heck, I'm still here, aren't I?<br /><br />Still. I hate spending money on fat clothes.V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19631247.post-26529419529323206652008-03-26T10:27:00.001-07:002008-03-26T10:27:09.154-07:00No matter what...<div style="float: left; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/2355643127/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2008/2355643127_1ae1f5954f_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixthstation/2355643127/">Seen on my Easter Sunday Bike Ride</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/sixthstation/">V'ron</a>. </span></div>No matter what happens, no matter how crappy the weather is, I ALWAYS take my bike out on Easter Sunday for its shakedown cruise for the year, and this year was no exception. OK, fine, we got 12 inches of snow on Good Friday. OK, fine, Saturday was COLD. Sunday actually was a great day to be out on a bike. The streets were clear, actually they were dry, and it's just, as you can see, not the scenery I expected on my Annual Easter Sunday Shakedown Bike Ride. But I do it, no matter what.<br /><br />And that's how i've got to think about this weightloss thing, that I have to keep at it, No Matter What, because i'm up 5 pounds this week, and I'll attribute that to tons of candy and the delicious pork roast i made and all the eating out i did this prior week. What a bummer, waking up after Easter and seeing that scale jump. But instead, I remember that I went out on easter, no matter what, and i have to keep this up, no matter what. Back to the food journal, back to routine. <br /><br />Numbers: 244.2, fat percentage 48. But here's something -- I measured for the first time in weeks, and maybe there's an inch in my arms, but all the weight is in my waist and hips. The thighs didn't even get bigger. This is somewhat heartening, and at the same time, well there you go. Straight to the hips, as the old saying goes.<br clear="all" />V'ronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651510977022872366noreply@blogger.com2