The Waning Moon

1) An astonishing number of people are out and about and Doing Things at 4:30 in the morning. Good gravy, but they do get their exercise on.

2) Exercising is easier on gym equipment than it is outdoors. I can go 21 miles on a stationary bike in the time it takes me to do 12 on my frame-and-wheels one, and run 6 miles indoors in a time parallel to 5 on the greenway. This, of course, means you have to do *more* to get an equivalent workout. Bollocks. Not that the gym's not great, and definitely a convenient alternative when the outdoors aren't an option (too dark, lightning storms, etc.), but still...that means spending even more time that's already so hard to come by.

3) I don't think I really understand how a rowing machine works. I get on it, I follow the little diagrams, I do everything just the way I've read you're supposed to do it, and by the end of it I...don't really feel like I've done anything. There's no pulse monitor on the rower (unlike other machines), but I can tell that my heart rate isn't as high as when I do other activities. I don't see how the calorie counter can possibly be right when I don't feel much exertion, and changing the dial to try to up the level doesn't seem to have any effect.

Stupid rowing machine.

Aaaand

1) not so much something I've learned, as something I've noticed and wondered about:

What do women who hop on an elliptical with a cell phone plastered to their ear and then proceed to do 20 minutes of e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y s-l-o-w rotations (we're talking, like...step, pause, step, pause) while chattering away actually think they're accomplishing? Honestly, I *don't* judge people based on their workouts - I think anyone there doing *anything* at all is really pretty awesome - but...seriously?

I have another wedding to attend in Florida soon, in a little over a month or so, and, much like I did with the last one, I've slipped into some weird diet panic overdrive. Except it's worse this time, I guess because it's been a much longer time since I've seen a lot of the people involved, and, oh, I don't know. I want to be more impressive, maybe? Not that friends are the sort of people that you *need* to impress (and if they are, what kind of friends are they?), but it’s a feeling that I can’t quite shake, and frankly, it’s set me into this food and exercise almost-terror that’s not very healthy, I don’t think, and has me feeling bluer than the sea these days.

See, when I started This Thing I’m Doing, I had a vague sort of timeline in my head about what goals I wanted to achieve by when (because Goals Are Good Things, or so they tell me), but all the while I was working for these goals, I wasn’t feeling *too* stressed about the idea of not meeting them exactly on time, of things taking longer than I wanted or expected them to. But then, I think I had less self-pressure because the goals I set felt like pretty lofty ones, so far out of reach that it made sense that they would take so. freaking. long. to achieve. Now, though, when I have come quite a distance, and in a respectable amount of time, now those far-reaching goals aren’t so outlandish anymore. And since they feel like something I maybe really could/can do, I think I’m feeling more stress and pressure to actually DO it, and suddenly before sundown too. Like since the actual goal isn’t quite so far to stretch, now I need to set a new, unrealistic goal so that I can forever feel like a failure when I *can’t* lose 50 pounds in 4 weeks (note: this is not my actual new goal)? And wow, isn’t that screwed up?

Anyway, all that aside, my loss has slowed from the pace I had before (which even I will admit was sort of ridiculously fast at times), and that’s more frustrating than ever with this new ‘deadline’ that’s suddenly popped up. It’s like…oh, it’s like you’re running a race, right, and everything is going along fine, you’re pacing yourself and have the breathing all timed out right to finish at a respectable time – not winning, but doing good - but then there’s a giant molasses swamp in front of you, and it throws everything out of whack, it’s harder to run and you keep falling down and can’t breathe so well and there’s an audience standing on the other side of the swamp, laughing at you struggle.

Well, maybe not like that. But it’s definitely a kink in the works, to be trying so hard – harder than before, even – and see the law of diminishing returns playing out before your eyes (and on your body). I’m generally good about sticking to my calorie goals every day - goals which are now lower than they were when I started (to account for now being smaller) - and about getting in exercise as often as I can (though I’m feeling burned out there – more on that in a second), but lately I feel like I might as well be sacked out on the couch with a bag of potato chips every night for all the results I’m seeing. I know everyone goes through plateaus during dieting, but it’s still a really scary place to be, to wonder if you’ll be stuck juggling the same pound up and down and back and forth forever and never actually go down anymore – or worse, to have the .5 lb stick, and then go up another pound the next week, and another 2 lbs the *next* week, until suddenly you blink and you’re back where you were 6 months ago. And, it’s almost logic-defying in some ways (which, for someone like me, who depends so much on logic, is sort of infuriating) to be doing all the “right” things – eating tons of vegetables, avoiding sugars and saturated fats, drinking glass after glass of water – and to not really have any evidence that it’s making a damn bit of difference. To be seeing other people who are eating less healthy things than you (because you just TRY to convince me that a 100 calorie snack pack of Oreo whatzits is nutritionally equivalent or superior to a handful of carrots and some almonds) achieve results while you just sit in jail, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Additionally, I’m feeling less fit than I did a month ago, and it’s really raining on my exercise parade. A few weeks ago, I was able to go out for 6 mile run and actually, you know, do it. Not extremely fast, but without stopping, and without wanting to die (much) at any point during the run. Last night, I was only able to walk for 3 miles and then, when I tried to mix things up a bit, practically keeled over while trying to jog up the hill to the library (maaaaybe ¼ mile). A hilly bike ride that I did fairly easily not too long ago made me want to kill myself on Sunday. Body, what gives? I don’t think I’ve dropped my calorie intake so much to account for lacking this amount of energy, and I don’t know that I’m the victim of ‘overtraining’ when I feel like I’m doing less than ever…
My exercise frustration is further compounded by the fact that one of my preferred exercise forms (aerobic dance in my apartment) may have now disappeared; a guy came up and knocked on my door last week, informing me that “the ceiling was coming down”. While I have no idea to what degree this statement is valid, it was still humiliating and not something I want to face again. So, I’m stuck now with walking/running and biking, which, while they do the job and aren’t so bad in the grand scheme of things, they’re still not as enjoyable for me, and also require the outdoors, which are not always…comfortable. There *is* a gym I can/could use, and while that would solve the issue of air conditioning, it’s still not as fun.

To add to my whining (because you love it so much), I’ve only recently hit a weight equivalent to that one of my friends once ashamedly whispered to me was her highest ever weight (I don’t think she knew at the time, maybe still doesn’t, how terrible it made me feel to hear that number and know that my own weight was way, way, WAY higher). She was 5-10lbs under this weight when she started Weight Watchers. I’m proud of what I’ve lost and how far I’ve come, really I am, and I *know* I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone else, but it’s still kind of a downer to think about being stuck at this weight that was someone else’s dirty secret, someone else’s measure of “oh my god, I never want to get that big again.” Still hard to think about how far I still have to go.

And me with a wedding to attend in a little over a month. Sigh.

Oh, man, I'm never going to do THAT again.

Dear Self, next time you think it's a good idea to try going for a run *without* having had some substantial form of fuel (i.e. a meal) at most two or three hours beforehand (instead of, um...*counts* 6), please remember what today felt like.

Due to the holiday (and thus day off), my usual daily routine got, well, screwed today.

Actually, it got screwed more than I'd expected. See, the weekends typically give me a smaller taste of this, of trying to figure out when and where to fit things in when I don't have the structure of the workday to build around. As much as I complain about how work makes things harder on the eating-well front, I think it probably makes things easier in just as many ways, by simple fact that it necessitates and dictates routine. And routines? Are easy to follow.

For example, on a typical work day, I get up somewhere between 7 and 7:30, and then have breakfast, do the wut-wut-da-email, pack my lunch, and get dressed, leaving for work somewhere around 8:30. Somewhere between 10:30 and 11 I usually get hungry and whip out a snack and munch for a bit. I take lunch from 1-2 because that's when the delectable Miss Paula Deen comes on tv, and for whatever reason, I really love watching her make fried butter with chocolate butter sauce while I eat whatever healthy things I packed for lunch. Actually, the skinny Italian girl (Giada? I don't know how her name's spelled) comes on at 1:30, and she usually annoys the hell out of me because she looks like a bobblehead and I think she lies about what she eats to her viewers, but whatever, that's totally not the point I'm going for here. Later in the afternoon, 3:30, 4ish I might have another snack, or I might not, and then I get to leave somewheres around 5:30. I get home and either get ready to go do my exercise right away (which would mean I have dinner when I get back), or I make dinner and then wait for a few hours to go do something. Rinse, repeat.

Weekends are a little shadier because I'll forget to snack, but the days are usually a little shorter (since I sleep in a bit) so the meals are more closely spaced. Exercise usually fits in somewhere earlier in the day, afternoonish, because while I *will* vigilantly do my exercise in the evening on work days, that's not my preferred time of day (but it's not within my nature to do what it would require for me to get things done early in the morning, before work).

Today, though...well, things sort of went to pot, largely due to the cable guy coming. See, my internet went out (again) on Tuesday night, so they scheduled a guy to come look at it "between 1 and 3" today. Okay, fine. Great.

I slept in until 9ish and got up, had breakfast, blah blah. Still too early to feel like exercising yet. Watched a movie. Initially planned to go out for a run when the movie was over, but I didn't realize how long the movie would actually take. By the time it had finished, it was 11:30 or so, and I didn't like the 1.5 hr window that left for getting out, doing my thing, and getting back in time to have a shower before he (potentially) showed up. So, I read for a bit. He ended up calling at 12:15 to tell me he'd be there 12:30-12:45ish. Based on that info, I was especially glad I hadn't gone out, because I definitely wouldn't have been ready by then. He finally showed up at 1, and took until 2 to fix my cable. Me, I just kept reading my book.

After he left, I hopped online to get caught up with a few things, and finally decided around 2:45 to go out for a run.

So, I left at 3 for my run.

I will insert the reminder now that I had stupidly forgotten to have lunch, since it felt too early when the movie was done, and I obviously wouldn't make myself a meal while the cable guy was there, and then I was distracted for a bit after he left. So, no food. No fuel.

Let me just say, that was possibly THE crappiest I've felt on a run since, like...I don't know. Months and months. I was just completely without go-juice. I could feel myself going much slower than usual, and had to stop to walk several times when I didn't want/need to. It was the most bizarre feeling in the world. Like...usually when I break for a walk (which, I am proud to say, is almost never anymore), it's because I need to take a minute to get my breathing under control, or because my legs/feet are killing me. But today, my breathing was fine, my muscles were fine, everything was FINE, but I was just going along and then suddenly...not. Like the batteries sadly running out on a little toy car.

Finally I gave up and cut my planned route short because I knew I wouldn't, *couldn't* do it today. I just felt frustrated with myself for not taking care to properly schedule things, and also sort of felt like I'd "wasted" a workout, even though I know that's not really the case. Just because I couldn't do it at the level and intensity that I'm used to doesn't mean that I didn't do anything at all, right?

Sigh. Anyway. Let this be a lesson.

Food. Don't forget to eat it.

One of the biggest things I've had to do (chosen to do) as part of The Diet is to largely abandon eating refined/processed carbohydrates. I very, *very* occasionally indulge, but those instances are very rare. As a general rule, I don't eat things like white rice, sugary foods or foods made with refined flour.

One of the biggest losses, then, is pasta. MAN, I love me some pasta. Spaghetti, lo mein, ramen, it's all delicious. I could have pasta all day and have a happy moon mouth, I think. But my blood sugar? Would not be nearly as delighted.

So the other day, I read about this stuff:



Basically, they mixed tofu with yam flour and came up with a "noodle-like product". Sounds scrumptious, right?

Yesterday, after asking a few people at Whole Foods who gave me quizzical looks upon hearing the question "do you have tofu pasta?", I finally managed to locate the tiny section near the yogurt where they carried the stuff. At $1.75 for an 8oz. package (that's the cooked/final volume - it comes packaged in liquid, and all you're supposed to do is drain/rinse it and then parboil/microwave it for a few minutes), it's not exactly as cheap as regular pastas are. However, at only 40 calories, 6 carbs and 4g fiber for the whole package, it's a heck of a lot cheaper in dieting allowance terms, so I figured it was worth a shot.

I read a few reviews online today before I made it that had me slightly trepidatious. People complaining about the smell, the texture, wah wah wah. I made it tonight, though...and it's good! It really is good. It's not the same as eating real noodles, of course - they're a little more slippery and textured sort of like chewier-than-usual ramen - but they more than do the job. I mixed some ground turkey with some of the pasta sauce I fell in love with yesterday and had a really nice bowl of "spaghetti" for dinner.

Yeah, it's not quite like my mom's spinach spaghetti with mushroom meat sauce...but it'll do. It'll do quite nicely.

There's this imaginary line, you know, between you and everyone else that relates to all the different qualifiers that make up each individual's identity. (While the common ideology of "I am not a label" and whathaveyou sounds very nice, I still have to argue that labels do come into play in defining Me from You from George on 5th Avenue.) I am a lot of things, and recently - now - I am an athlete and a dieter. I can call it a not-diet all I want, but it is the truth, and that's okay.

The thing with that invisible line between labels, though, is that I'm never sure just how transparent or solid it is or needs to be. Part of this goes back to what I said before, about other people's perceptions of my and commenting on the fact that I look so different now, but part of it is an internalized concern for how much of a deal *I* should make of The Line to other people, and how much I'm required to make it disappear more or less in different situations.

I'm not being clear, am I? I'm sorry.

For example: if a dieter were to go out to dinner with a large group of friends, by virtue of the volume and activity and other contributing factors, The Line isn't necessarily a very visible thing. The dieter may order grilled fish and vegetables, and everyone else orders what they do, and the meals come and all diners enjoy their food with little notice. If, however, a big deal is made of the dieter's order, when all the food shows up, silly little peanut gallery comments about "look how 'good' you're being! I should have ordered that instead of this burger!" etc. that line becomes a bit more opaque.

Damn, I'm still talking in circles, aren't I?

Okay, so Boss is planning some sort of lunchtime...event...thing for our department next week. She doesn't have details yet, which is fine with me. But she came to my cube today and asked if I could eat BLTs. I stammered something about how I could probably do that, yeah, and then I guess either she'd had a followup prepared or else sensed my hesitation, because she then asked if turkey was okay, and if I liked a particular kind of bread.

After she left, I started thinking (well, kept thinking) about what I felt about the exchange.

I don't like BLTs. I never have. I didn't see much point when I was younger, as tomatoes did not appeal to me then, and since getting older - long before I ever started dieting - I knew that they were a nutritional bust, offering many empty calories and little exchange for anything useful (protein what?). To be honest, I don't think I've ever eaten a BLT in my life. But here I was, when she asked, mentally preparing myself to have to deal with eating a BLT sometime next week which - though not ideal - would be better than not eating anything at all (both from a "I will be hungry" standpoint and an "I will look like I am not participating if I don't eat something that, presumably, everyone else will be eating". Which, well, duh, stupid logic, but there you go.) When she asked the followup questions about my special preferences, though - low fat meat, wheat or wholegrain bread - I felt BAD that she was going out of her way to make special allowances for me (who is standing solidly on the other side of The Line from most people). I suppose I shouldn't feel bad when others offer allowances and options for me, but somehow I do because I know it's not their initial inclination. It's not even so much that I feel bad about being Different, but just about them having to go to the *trouble* to account for my being different.

I'm just not sure what the appropriate protocol for situations like this really is - do you actually voice your different preferences (if asked), or just demure and say that whatever is offered will be "fine"? I wouldn't say anything if the choice weren't offered at all, but when it is, how do you tell whether or not it's a real (vs. empty/polite offer that you're supposed to turn down)?

I read a lot of fitness and diet blogs and articles. Recently, the biggest thing that everyone is talking about is Alli (pronounced 'ally' as in 'in the war against fat!'), the first over-the-counter FDA approved weight-loss drug.

Now I, personally, have no desire to try this drug, because the stuff I'm doing on my own seems to work just fine. Other people, though, would be tempted, I'm quite sure.

Thing is...well, there's all these restrictions. I know, UGH, right? Pills are supposed to make losing weight EASY. That's why you TAKE THEM instead of doing other, harder stuff.

But look, just look at what they want you to do in order to make Alli an effective part of your weight-loss plan:

Weight loss OTC diet pill Alli works with regular physical activity, exercise and good food with low calorie diet.

emphasis mine

Um. *scratches head* Is anyone else seeing...no? Okay, maybe if I read further, I'll understand better.

Our research showed that people taking orlistat and following low-fat diets lost almost five percent of their initial body weight, about seven to 15 pounds, over four months

and

It is my hope that people will take one capsule before each regular meal, breakfast, lunch, and supper, and alter their fat and calorie intake," Anderson said. "If they commit to exercise six days a week, most people can lose weight steadily.


Seriously.


SERIOUSLY?

Is anyone else smelling a scam here?

While Alli may actually do what it says it's supposed to do (which is block the body's absorbing fat), wouldn't all of the conditions you're required to follow while taking the drug do the same thing? I mean, the drug doesn't help with outlandish amounts of weight. The top loss over the study averaged out to just 1 pound per week. If you're excercising 6 days a week and eating a reduced-fat, reduced-calorie diet, 1 pound per week *without the aid of the drug* is a more than attainable goal.

And that would be *without* all the nasty side effects, which include many of the same side effects that were warned about shortly after Olestra was introduced as a miracle ingredient to make fat-free potato chips. Effects like nausea and queasiness, diarrhea and the ever so popular anal leakage. Seriously, Alli warns you that until your system becomes acquainted with the drug and you become aware of how it will affect you, you should wear dark pants and adult incontinency aids (i.e. Depends).

Is that not disturbing to anyone else? Like, even a little bit? And the FDA APPROVED IT.

Much luck to any and all who feel like they need to use Alli to lose weight. I just hope they know what they're getting themselves into, and that they don't expect to just pop a pill with a Big Mac and large fry and have everything be hunky dory.

I have a closet full of clothes. More clothes than I have hangers, actually, or room to hang them all even if I *did* have hangers.

It's not, however, a close full of clothes that I can actually wear. My clothing is broken down into about sixteen million different categories, the major ones of which include

1) Clothing that fits exactly right

This category has approximately 5 items in it.

2) Clothing that is a little big, but still easily wearable.

Another 6 or so items...

3) Clothing that is *way* too big, but that I still wear when I don't have anything else that's clean

A dozen?

4) Clothing that is so big that I could not decently appear in public in it, for it would all fall off and leave me naked and exposed (or maybe exposéed, should some anonymous source capture a photo of me in all my natural glory and print it for millions to gawk at)

The rest of my wardrobe, sans pajamas and socks.

And, really, I'm not sure what to do about all these piles and piles of useless fabric that I have clogging up my laundry baskets and slowly taking over my closet floor.

I haven't given them away to goodwill yet because, well. I guess I'm scared to. I'm scared that (however long) down the road, I'll regain all the weight I've lost, which is what happens to MOST PEOPLE, and then I will have no clothes and will have to blow a bunch of money on bigger sized purchases that make me sad (unlike the smaller size purchases now that still eat up a lot of money but that make me happy aside from the effects on my wallet).

I keep reading articles and journals and things, right, and today I got so depressed over one that linked to all these studies that showed that pretty much nobody kept off whatever weight they lost for more than 5 years (this includes people on any/all diets, and those who also embraced their diets as 'lifestyle changes'). If you can keep off the weight for 5 years or more, you're an anomaly of nature. And, geez, isn't that scary? It sure scares the hell out of me. It's intimidating and disheartening and, man, what am I doing trying to fight science and nature and whatever anyway, right? If it's predetermined that I *will fail*, who wants to hear that?

Bah.

Anyway, I have many many clothes that do not fit, and only a few clothes that do, and while I keep buying new items that fit (in incremental amounts), I keep growing out of (growing into? growing under?) them, which leaves me with EVEN MORE clothing that I cannot wear.

My life is so hard.

Okay, after that last post, I promise, no more whinging. For a while, at least.


So the 5K I ran yesterday? Made me feel so awesome that I decided it'd be rilly rilly neat to do more. Somewhere.

First, I got a bit ahead of myself and was looking at marathons. Which, yeah, maybe one day. But not anytime soon. Especially with every marathon-prep site I've looked at saying "You have to be a runner for a while first. No, really. No, REALLY. Like at least a year hokay." Which, you know. Makes sense. You don't want random Joe Lazyass tumbling off the couch and into a 26+ mile thing that he's going to have a heart attack on somewhere in the middle of mile 2, right?

And, while the half-marathon (logically, 13ish miles) is a goal slightly more tenable, I still think I probably need to take smaller steps in-between before I get there. Eventually, though. Like next year?

Two half-marathons I would eventually like to do:

Rock 'n' Roll Half-Marathon Virginia Beach, VA

This one is specifically so appealing because duh, music. One of the most motivating things in doing the 5K this weekend (which, yeah, I know is a short run) was some of the live music that had been stationed along the course. Around 3/4 of a mile in, just as we were coming up to the start of the second big hill, there was a small brass band playing "You Are My Sunshine" that just made me feel so happy to be out there. Since we were running through a neighborhood, a lot of the people that lived in the houses along the course came out to support the runners on, spray us with hoses and waterguns, cheer and play music. One guy had a long line of sprinklers set up on his lawn, and a sound system blasting the music from Rocky. It was awesome. At another point, just a little before we hit the 3 mile marker, there was an a capella women's chorus out in front of church, singing "We Are Family". It was just, man, such a motivating thing, having all this different music coming in at different points along the way. I mean, and I know this isn't something new about myself; the only way I really get myself to exercise most days is by firing up the techno/dance mp3 mix and going to town in my living room. So the idea of more than 20 live bands lined up along this 13 mile stint? Sounds REALLY REALLY AWESOME.

Shamrock Marathon/Half-Marathon/8K Virginia Beach, VA

I just think this one sounds neat, and it's in VA Beach (as is the Rock n' Roll), which I think is doable since crazy aunt & uncle live near there and would probably let me stay with them. Actually, even if I couldn't make it up to the half-marathon yet, I could probably do the 8K for the one next March. Which would be a fun field trip, I think!


In the meantime, in December I plan to do Run at the Rock in Burlington, which is only 30-some miles away from me. It's 7 miles in a woodsy traily area, which I *love* (I was running through the wooded trails around the library here before it got so hot outside), and I think I could work up to that distance by December. Even if not, it's not really pressured, since you have over 3 hours to complete it before they close the course (which is, uh, walking rate, and not at all fast, if you wanted to use the full time).


And now, to pull a quick 180^o on ya, these look amazing. NOM NOM NOM