It felt like as soon as my Whole30 journey began, it was over. It was a fast month, and the time flew by like nothing, leaving me realizing more than ever: you can do anything for 30 days. Excited by my changed body structure/composition and weight loss, I set out for the next step in my journey. How was I going to take myself to the next level? How was I going to maintain this new, healthy lifestyle?
My blood results showed great improvements in my T3 and T4 levels, as well as my TSH. I definitely cannot stop with this lifestyle. I have removed gluten, and incorporated a mass amount of fresh, organic (wherever possible) fruits, vegetables, and lean meats. I have re-introduced dairy, non-glutenous grains, and sugar (yikes!) with no problems. My journey is far from over.
Although I had formed all these new, healthy habits, I was beginning to dread making my way to the gym, bearing the cold outside (it’s still very much winter here), and trying to plow my way through some form of routine. I ended up dreading every second of it, and coming out feeling like I could have put in way more effort. I hated that feeling. I mean, come on, you just gave it your all for 30 days..who are you? After hearing all the hype about Shakeology (and researching the heck out of the ingredients), I decided to try a Beachbody Challenge. One week in and I knew it was going to work for me. I am SO EXCITED that I found this. So, what does this have to do with anything?
My first blog post explains the “WHY” on my new decision, and I have a lot of exciting information for you. I am so excited to get in the best shape of my life (and only have to work out 30-minutes a day 😉 )
If you’re interested, contact me today and we can chat about your goals! I can even become your free coach! If you want more information on Shakeology, or the Beachbody programs, here are a few links to help you get started:
I think that has to be my husband’s favorite text ever.. I’m sure many men dream of sultry texts from their wives, illustrating what’s to come that evening. ..but not mine. Nope, he’s just stoked that burgers are in his near future. That’s his favorite dinner, too (I got lucky), and if I throw on a few pieces of bacon and a fried egg, I win the wife-of-the-hour award…easy peasy. I wish I could see the smile on his face when he got it.. much better than “chicken breast and salad for dinner”, I’m sure.
Mine will be sans bun, as usual, and maybe I’ll go the “grass-fed, organic, triple the price, local, 100% all-natural, Alberta beef” route.. that would be healthy. 😉
P.S. I had a Naturopath appointment last night, and thus have a blood test today…soon… I am diabolically afraid of needles..especially the kinds that stab into my veins. This will also be my first blood test in many, many years where I do not force J to accompany, stand too close for comfort, and allow me to burry my head and nails into his body. He’s the best human stress ball there is. ❤ When I am nervous, I’m kind of like a 10-year old who’s had way too much sugar: hence the burger post.
Before the wedding, I was getting a bit obsessed with ‘getting fit’. I was working out to exhaustion, eating specifically according to my ‘plan’, and working with a ‘coach’. I say coach in quotations because, looking back, I should have listened to my husband: she had no idea.She made me cut out foods that I loved, and I listened. I’m not talking chips and cookies here, either. I’m talking organic, unsweetened coconut milk in my smoothies. But she told me it was bad, so I listened. She made me stop eating carbs at lunch, and I listened.
Guess what happened? I was cranky, upset, hungry (at times), over full (at other times)..but most of all, I wanted coconut milk, and carbs at night. BADLY.
I was so worried about the wedding. I was so, so paniced. The used-to-be fat girl inside of me kept worrying that when I got my wedding pictures back I would regret it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. If I hated the way I looked in my wedding photos, I’d always regret it.
The big day came, I had my hair and my makeup done, my Mom laced me into my dress, and I put on my earings. Guess what? Not once did I think about what size I looked. Not once. For me, this was a miracle.
I went the entire day, and I felt like a princess. I was so happy, and so surrounded by people I loved. It was magical. And I didn’t think about my size. Not once.
On our honeymoon, I walked around in my little bitty bikini…and I rocked it (at least I think I did). I ate way too much food, and I had absolutely anything and everything I wanted for two whole weeks. I didn’t worry about a carb, a fat, and a protein with every meal. I didn’t have 6 meals a day or stop eating carbs at lunch, I just ate. I just lived.
After 14 days of this craziness, we flew back home. I mustered up the courage to climb aboard the scale to judge the damages. Pulling the blue glass scale out from beside the bathroom sink, all those feelings came back. I hadn’t even weighed myself yet and I was thinking “you shouldn’t have eaten all that”. Guess what? I lost 4 pounds during our trip.
I joked with J that the ‘burger’ diet was good for me, and he smiled. He loves seeing me confident in myself, I can tell. “I told you,” he said “you just have to eat when you’re hungry, and stop when you’re full. I know you’ll never let yourself go overboard”. I love him.
So that, my friends, is my new plan. Since we only really buy organic fruits and veggies, grass-fed meats, and whole grains, I should be good to go. Noted that this ‘plan’ probably wouldn’t work for someone who’s taste buds are in a loving relationship with oreos and lucky charms, but I think I’ve got this in the bag.
I am going to up the workouts now that we’re back, and I’m going to eat like a normal, healthy person. Lots of fruits, lots of veggies, and carbs whenever I damn well feel. If I want ice cream, or frozen yogurt, I’m going to eat it..just not for five consecutive days. I am excited to see what happens next. I want abs, and we all know those are made in the kitchen. Come on kitchen, get cooking! 😉
I feel happy…and I feel healthy. I could get used to this wife stuff.
I keep thinking maybe I have bitten off more than I can chew…but how could that be? Maybe it’s a reasonable amount to bite, and a fair amount to safely chew, but the swallowing isn’t really working for me.
In reality, I’m not doing any more than the average person, but wow, I am exhausted. This, my friends, is a whole new level of tired for me, it’s not the ‘Oh, I need to get 8 hours tonight” kind of exhaustion, but it’s more like “I need a week where I don’t have to do anything but sleep, and all my responsibilities are being taken care of by someone who has the same motivation as I do”…haaaaa. Ya think that’ll ever happen?
The best way I can explain this is emotional exhaustion..but it’s almost past that point. It’s Monday, I just had a full two days off to relax, and I simply cannot fathom sitting here at work all day.. I won’t make it. I have a pounding headache, and my eyes can barely stay open, nevermind focus on anything. I have no patience, and I am uninterested in doing my work. What the hell is going on?
People with children, I have no idea how you do it. I cannot imagine ever having that ability. You are amazing.
I am trying not to be a whiner. I am 25, I don’t have kids (see above point…and again, HOW do you do it?), I work full-time (but who doesn’t?), try to work out at the gym daily, and I have dogs (too. many. dogs.). I have a husband, and a house which is way too big for us (no one informed me that even if you don’t use your two spare bedrooms, they still manage to need cleaning..or they end up as storage areas for everything you don’t want to deal with). Still, sound’s do-able, right? It’s a moderate work load. So why is it that I am so exhausted? I honestly don’t get it…and trust me, I’ve tried to put on my big girl panties and get it done. I can’t. Not without crying and having a break down about how everything is just too much. Every day I try to think of something to quit to lessen the load: my job (please can I win the lottery and be a puppy rescuer?), the gym (but I know that will make things 10X worse), the dogs (hahahaha…kidding, never). None of those things are reasonable. I need to get it together.
Since I was diagnosed hypothyroidism/ Hashimoto’s, I promised I’d never use it as an excuse. I will not gain weight, I will not say I can’t lose it, I will never be too tired to get out of bed, or not have the energy to stay awake at work. Nope. Screw you, Hashimoto’s. But I’m starting to think that might just be the cause of this problem…
Ahh, I need a snuggle, and my naturopath. I missed my appointment this weekend, too, and now I can’t get in for another two weeks.
Why? Because, well, this happened:
Yeah, that’s a cast, for his broken knee. I cried like a uncontrolable baby when they told us the x-ray results. How could I let that happen?! (Again, people with kids….? HOW?!). Oh, and did I mention that I am IN LOVE with this little guy? Did I mention that the day after this little incident occurred, we had someone coming to meet and adopt him, and I was happy he would be leaving so I didn’t get even more attached? Oh, and now he has to stay with us for 6+ weeks while he heals? Oh, and did I mention that he’s SO snuggly, sweet, and possibly even cuter than before with his little yellow cast? Great, just great, Sam. Please don’t make me keep you, Dad will be so mad.. ❤
I’ve been back to work since Monday. I’ve gone through the natural progressions, as expected upon return to work after a full month off:
Denial – “I’m not going back to work. It’s simply not possible. It must be some kind of misunderstanding. “
Hope – “Maybe there will be a mass power outage and I’ll get just one. more. day. off.”
Panic – “I have to work tomorrow. This was my vacation and the house still isn’t spotless! I should have scrubbed the baseboards.” (pet peeve..I need a house cleaner)
Acceptance – Usually occurs on the actual drive to work.. “I can do this. Only 5 more days until the weekend”
Panic – I re-visited this stage on Day 2. I am just not destined for this “full time employment” thing.
Acceptance – “I can do this”
Panic – “NO I CAN’T! I want to be a stay at home dog Momma and take in strays and save the world, one snuggly baby puppy at a time.”
Well, you get the jist….
Day 4 and I’m still alive. I haven’t quit, or walked out, or had a mental break down, things are okay. So, on to the point!
Yesterday, I’m sitting at work, pondering life (litearlly, I need a career change, but that’s another story), and I get an e-mail from the animal rescue I volunteer with. Well, what’da you know..they desperately need foster homes for some dogs. Can I take one?
Okay, call husband.
“Look, babe, these dogs desperately need fosters.”
Nope, we can’t get another dog.
Okay, let’s try this again:
“But all they need is love, and understanding. And you only have to keep them until they get adopted. And they provide everything. It’s no cost to us!”
He informs me that, APPARENTLY, we already have two dogs.. (duhh)
“Okay, well that’s a great reason to foster! What difference will one more make?”
Apparently we alsodon’t have timefor another dog. And who is going to clean up it’s poop?
“I will. And maybe it will get the idea of having three dogs out of my mind. Maybe it will be a wake up call for me and I will learn my lesson without consequence. I will be happy with only our two.”
That did it! Gosh, that’s reverse psychology if I ever used it. It’s my new tactic (#crazywife?).
With a little “I’m going to be right” chuckle, he reluctantly agreed.
Woohoo! We will take one! But did we want a dog or a puppy?Who doesn’t want a cute little puppy? (someone who wants to sleep and have a clean floor…)
But an older dog could have house-training issues, too.
I let the coordinator decide: we would take whatever they needed us to.
Next thing you know I’m setting up a time (same day!) to pick up a puppy. I could have my ‘pick of the litter from Kennel 4’, and take any supplies I needed. Holy smokes, didn’t see that coming so fast.
We showed up at 7pm, and walked down the hall along the individual kennels towards Kennel 4. Little noses and longing eyes peered at us as we walked by: “are you gonna pat me?!”
Oh. My. Goodness. Kennel 4 where have you been all my life?!?! Cute little puppies snuggled eachother in every corner of the room. One was awake and walked up to the gate to greet us. Ahh!! After a solid 15 minutes of trying to pick, the coordinator stopped by:
Is there any way you can take two?
Jamie looked at me with eyes, in a way to say “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
Next thing you know, we’re loading up two puppies in a tiny crate, grabbing a second set of supplies from the shelves, and being told constantly “two is way easier than one..”. I’ll admit, I started to panic at this point. We now have four dogs.
These little monster’s have been great (granted, it hasn’t been 24 hours yet..). The shelter said we could name them for their time with us, but they would be listed on the website by their provided names, so they could keep track easier. James told me not to name them. He said I would get too attached… I think he’s right, but this little guy is definitely “Tiny Tank”:
His brother, will remain nameless (or be called AJ, I suppose), until the mood strikes me:
I’m so cold. All the time! Right now I am sitting in my office with the space heater running at max, trying to over-ride the air conditining that my manager has blasting in this place. It makes me so sleepy though… this blog post, while perhaps quite useless and uninformative, is my attempt at making it through the next few hours of my shift without taking a desk nap.
It’s summer time here, and the weather is great..it’s hovering around 30 degrees (that’s 86 in Fahrenheit, according to Google..which might not seem hot for some, but for us, it’s pretty standard. It sometimes might get to about 35 (or 95F), but that’s about the max). It’s also insanely dry here and there’s no ocean…so the heat feels a bit like a desert. But guess who LOVES IT? This girl. Maybe I need to move somewhere I hear about on TV where 100F is the norm…mmm…let’s cook an egg, shall we?
You know that feeling of climbing into a scortching car after it’s been sitting in the sun all day? Lovely..only a few more hours..haha James thinks I am absolutely nuts and we constantly fight over the air conditioning level in the car. Air conditioning sucks. Give me hot, hot, sweltering, unventilated car heat anyday over AC.
P.S. I am getting married in two weeks.
On that note, let’s unleash the Bridezilla for a bit, shall we? I’ve never been to a wedding, and this is the first one I’ve ever been a part of planning…so please correct me if any of my stated information or feelings are wrong.
Say someone invites you to a wedding.. a wedding that has specifically stated (through both word of mouth and their beautiful wedding website) that children will, unfortunately, not be invited to the event due to space constraints, as well as the fact that the venue does not allow minors. Now, would you think it would be reasonable to ask the host(s) if you could PLEASE bring your kids? “No one else even has to know”.. Or, how about request that you please ADD ADDITIONAL PERSON(S) to your invite? I’ve had several inquiries lately, ranging from “My husband can’t come, so I’m bringing my child in his place”, “My son wants to come, and he is bringing his girlfriend”, “Will there be booze at the ceremony??” to “I think it’s absolutely unfair that my children cannot come and we will not be attending since our family comes as a single unit.”, and even “I am thinking of leaving my husband, but I am unsure. Would it be okay for me to put an alternate name down as my plus 1, just in case?”. <– That is real.. I swear it is.
Crazy. Maybe I’m crazy, or maybe they are. Everyone has told me since the begining of this planning that I cannot be worried about other people, that “this is [our] special day”, and “not to let it get to [me]”..but I feel like a bit of a psycho/meany-pants/bridezilla/control freak when I have to say “no”, “no”, “no”, “yes”, “okay”, “maybe”, “sorry”, “sure”, or, “I’ll get back to you”, to each of these requests.
I get it..but please understand, folks… I’m truly sorry you can’t bring your kids, and (as a non-parent) I cannot beginto imagine how horrible it must be for you to have one free nightaway from them (I’ve offered to pay for a sitter). I’m also sorry that our venue only allows us to accomodate a small number of people, and that we have chosen to have an intimate wedding with only our close family and friends. I am also sorry that your 14-year old son wants to bring his girlfriend, but unfortunately I am not interested.I am sorry that you feel the need to drink during our ceremony, but that, unfortunately, will not be available until afterwards. I’m also sorry that I’ve never met your five year old golden retriever, and I’m sure he’s lovely..but we are not having animals at the wedding (other than Monkey and Benjamin, because they are my soul babies). <– okay, I guess that answer’s it.. It’s me who’s crazy.
Oh wait, no I’m not sorry. We invited each and every single one of you to share in our special day because you’re important to us. Please come, and pack a smile and well-wishes…that is all we ask. If you don’t agree with the way we are organizing our big day, we truly hope you can get over it, but if not, you will unfortunately not be welcome (and no, your sister’s cat cannot take your place).
So, my special friends, that ends my crazy rant (sorry if I offended anyone).
I promise that if I am ever invited to a wedding I will come as I am, and if Jamie is not available (or even not invited!), I will come alone. I will not ask if I can bring my sister’s cousin’s friend and his entire family. I promise.I will cheer when you kiss, and I will probably cry too, even if you are wearing black and ONLY invite children–I want your day to be perfect–for you.Good luck fellow brides, try to remember to breathe..
Yesterday, my Dad must have been taking a trip down memory lane as I received a few consecutive pictures in my Facebook inbox. There I was. A beautiful, dark haired little girl with her bangs cut straight across, wearing my early 90’s finest and blowing out the candles on my birthday cake. What was I thinking in that moment? I bet I was excited it was my birthday, and even more excited for cake.
The picture made me sad, almost instantly. I’ve never seen it before and I feel like I have no idea who that little girl is. I can see my round little nose and my big brown eyes and my dark hair..I can see it all. That’s me. That’s where I started. It made me wonder where things changed. When did I stop being this innocent, happy little girl? When did I become this person who is so critical of herself? This girl who spent years crying when she looked in the mirror, wishing she could have a different nose and a skinnier body, and no stretch marks, and even longer agnoizing over her future and what it would be like. What changed?
I wasn’t born fat, but I got there pretty quickly. I was a chubbykid (not quite unhealthy, but plump). When I started kindergarten I was bigger than the other kids, but I was always tall and had a large structure (I won’t say big boned, because we won’t go there…haha). I didn’t feel weird or out of place then.
My Dad left when I was 3. I have no memories of my family as a perfect little “unit”. My mom went to school and worked a night job–I spent most of my younger years at my Grandma’s. She fed me whatever I wanted—food is love, you know. It is abnormal for a 7-year old child to feel like I felt. I developed OCD and ate like crazy. Food made me feel safe. Hiding in my room made me feel safe. My Mom was stressed and she was busy.. She had so much going on, but she still did everything she could have done. She yelled sometimes like any normal parent, but I don’t think it ever crossed the line of ‘normal’. I hope one day I will be as amazing of a parent as she was. I don’t know what distinguished me from the other kids, or what made me have these feelings, but I don’t believe anything my family could have said or done would have changed it.. It was something deep inside of me. It’s who I was. By the time I was in my first year at University, I was 220lbs and miserable. I was just existing.
There are several, defining momentsthat stick out when I think about when everything changed. When did I loose that happiness, and that innocence? When did I stop feeling like that happy little girl in the picture and star feeling like the fat, unhappy girl (the one that still lives in a big part of my heart and soul). Now of course, my life isn’t defined by these moments but they definitely made an impact. They are so small and so seemingly insignificant, but I think they’ll always be etched in my memories.
I remember in Second Grade, measuring the school field with a partner–we had one of those wheels on a stick that clicks for every meter travelled? I was pushing it around and he was walking slightly behind me. He said he was cold and I said I wasn’t.
“It’s because of all your whale blubber.”
It’s funny now, I guess. It was a witty comment for a second grader, but man it hurt.. I remember waiting until I got home after school, locking myself in my room and crying. I’m sure that little boy doesn’t remember that. I’m sure he said it, and that was that. Funny how that works.
I vividly remember standing outside my fourth grade classroom in my purple leggings and having kids tease me as they walked by. I remember leaning up against the hard, brick wall with my backpack in front me, feeling so alone and trying to hide my pants from the kids as they walked by. All the other girls could wear leggings..but I was different. I was fat. I remember trying to hide the fact that I got teased. I didn’t want my Mom to think less of me or to be embarassed of me. From such an early age I was so worried about disapointing her..I didn’t want her to know she had the fat daughter that no one liked–she deserved more.
And then there was back-to-school shopping. The one, dreadful year that I transitioned into adult clothes. I hated them. I didn’t want to wear old lady clothes..but I didn’t fit into kids clothes anymore. This was probably around Grade 5. I remember my Mom standing outside the change room while I tried to hold back my tears, telling me it wasn’t her fault I didn’t fit in kids clothes–I was just too big. I remember this day so vividly. I remember the feeling I had, and being so hurt by my Mom. I’ve never told her this, and I’m sure I never will.
I wish I could go back to that happy little girl blowing out her candles and tell her she was beautiful. I wish I could help her become a confident, happy young lady. I wish I could go back to that 14-year old who quit basketball because she didn’t want to wear shorts and tell her she was GORGEOUS. I wish I could run back and tell her everything would be okay, and she’d be getting married to the man of her dreams (who is SO, so, so, SO, SO, SO handsome), and that she’d have a beautiful home, and beautiful puppies, and a happy, happy life. But I can’t go back, all I can do is go forward…and going forward, my outlook is going to change.
I can’t explain how this strange, random sequence of thoughts has occured in the past few days since receiving those pictures…but this is one of those moments. All I’ve been thinking about is how I wish I could go back and change so many things, but I can’t. All of them are just thoughts, and feelings, too: I wish I had more confidence, I wish I was happier and that I’d made different choices. But maybe I don’t need to go back, maybe all those things made me the woman I am today. I am learning to love her. She is a beautiful, compassionate person. She has more empathy than a lot of people, and loves deeper than anyone I’ve met. From this day forward, I am going to start loving that girl. I’m going to eat chocolate when I want and not feel guilty, and I’m going to run like the wind. I’m going to wear a bikini on my honeymoon and rock it, stretch marks and all. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to make that little girl proud.
I usually spend a good 2 minutes trying to think of a witty blog title, but today this just seems fitting.. because it’s Monday and that is all. I don’t like Mondays (surprise)… I’m just not destined to be employed (bahaha…I wish).
Friday I met up with my trainer. I weighed in at 2.5 pounds lost (nevermind that this morning I am back to my regular, static weight that just won’t budge), and I lost 0.9% body fat. I am pretty sure that the margin of error is greater than 1%, but I’ll take it.. small victories.
As for my measurements, someone please try and explain THIS sequence of events:
My last round of measurements (with one month difference in between):
Gained a 1/2″ around my chest.. I found a way to be happy with this (what girl wouldn’t be?!)
Lost 2″ around my waist (woohoo!!)
Gained 3/4″ around my hips (I have been squating like CRAZY and I had virtually zero bum to begin with…so I also found a way to accept this..)
This month of measurements (as taken on Friday with one month difference in between):
Lost 1/2″ around my bust
Gained 1″ around my waist ( 😐 )
Lost 3/4″ around hips
Okay, what in the hell is going on?! I swear I go into these weigh/measure/body fat days and I am feeling soo great, and then I come out wanting to cry (and being SO confused). I don’t have a copy of my pictures yet, so I will post them as soon as she sends them over..but part of me doesn’t even want to look. UGH!
Part of me wonders if I am simply not working hard enough, do all these girls that look amazing really work THAT much harder than me? I mean, I work out to the point of absolute exhaustion and wanting to puke AT LEAST 4 times a week (I aim for 5-6), and I eat PRETTY FREAKING GOOD!! I dont want to make excuses and thyroid this, thyroid that..but I just don’t get it..
Well, I sucked it up and resisted the urge to go home and cry in my bed. I went home, got my gym stuff on and headed out. In order to combat my I HATE CARDIO attitude, I have been running to the gym and getting Jamie to pick me up after he’s done work. This gives me a solid 15-20 minute run, and a good 45-60 minutes at the gym. Friday night workout = lots of space at the gym. I was literally the only girl there. I was lifting hard and angry, I was sweating like crazy and I had a sad, empty feeling in my stomach. I had taken up shop in the corner of the gym and I was hoarding gym equipment in a cute little array next to me on the bench (in a way you can only do on a Friday night), when a guy started walking towards me. Oh god, I thought, I have too much stuff….I’m an ass. *panic*. BUT GUESS WHAT HE SAID?!?
“I don’t know how to say this in a non creepy way…but I saw you here a few months ago and you are looking REALLY good. I have really noticed a big change and you must be working really, really hard.”
Seriously, I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. I must have said thank you 15 times.. I NEEDED that. I probably needed that worse than I’ve needed it in my entire journey. 70+ pounds lost and this was the time that I really, really NEEDED to hear this…and it happened. I definitely took it as a sign that everything is going to be okay.
HAPPY MONDAY everyone! Thanks for reading.
Oh, and just because I love this picture, here’s Ben yesterday with his new bandana.. Can you say crazy dog lady??
Usually when I wake up on Friday’s, my first thoughts are:
BABE!! We can stay up LATE tonight and SLEEP IN tomorrow
Tomorrow is cheat dayand I’m eating Indian food (I am addicted and it’s my ‘cheat’ choice every single week)
I get to wear jeans today
Point 1 and 2 were right on time…however today I decided not to wear jeans (our office has been letting us wear jeans for the past week to celebrate the Calgary Stampede). Instead, I have opted for a Fancy Friday..hehe. My mom bought me this dress in Vegas, and I have to fight not to wear it a few times a week (in love). I don’t have a lot of ‘expensive’ (the dress was about $100, so only really ‘expensive’ to my small-town budget) clothes, and I think I just love the way the fabric feels. Oh, and it makes me feel fancy –hence Fancy Friday..Ben really likes it too, as you can see. He spent the entire morning following me around, flopping down, and licking my ankles (weirdo).
After work, I am meeting with my trainer getting my measurements done, progress pictures taken, and body fat tested. This will be my second test as I did another one exactly one month ago. I’m pretty nervous. I’ve been working so hard, and I really hope the number has gone down. I don’t really feel like I look any different. With my luck, it’s probably gone up a few percent.. haha.
These are my previous progress photo comparisons. These photos were taken one month apart, I was working my ASS off and eating clean, clean, clean. As you can see..I look exactly the same.In fact, I may even look worse in the front facing one.. lol 😦 Boo!!!! But I didn’t give up!! I am still working out 6 days per week, eating careful, and remaining hopeful.
P.S. I know I don’t need to loose any weight. But I do want to build muscle and tone my body. 3 years ago I was 220 pounds, and I’ve fought HARD to get to this stage. I’ve sweat, and cried, and thrown up from working so hard. It’s been a serious struggle…but I made it to this point. Maybe someday I will post “220lb me” photos..but not today.
It was a long, hot day. I got home around 6pm and had mentally prepared myself for the gym the entire ride home. I was hot, sweaty, and my feet hurt. “Why can’t it just be Saturday?” crossed my mind more than once (rest day!). I got home, opened the door, and my two crazy monkeys came running over to see Mom. My goodness they make me happy beyond words (that’s another post..or seven).. I don’t know what I’d do without them.
After our workout, we came home and devoured these delicious, extra-lean, grass-fed beef burgers on lettuce buns (something you wouldn’t have caught him dead doing when we met) that my wonderful man made for us. The patties were weighed out and ready to grill! He isn’t 100% ready to be a passenger on my ‘ I weigh my food ‘ train, but he does what he can to support me and for that I am grateful. So, so good…and worth the workout, even after my long day. I had a lot of trouble sleeping last night, but that’s just the way it is for me some days. Some weeks I sleep for probably about 70 hours..others I sleep for about 35. Hashimoto’s you’re silly..and a pain in my ass.
On another note: Today marks exactly 45 days until I walk down the aisle! I’ve decided to spend the next 45 days doing WHATEVER it takes to feel like (at least) 2- million bucks on that day. It’s time to step it up a knotch! I’ve always struggled with my body image, and although I am now at a ‘healthy’ weight, I still feel like I am that 220-pound girl who was too shy to even glance up from my own little world. I know that for myself, the better I feel about myself, the happier I am. I want to ROCK that honeymoon bikini with NO fear, no regrets, and a huge smile on my face.
My lunch today was DELICIOUS. I tend to get sick of salads, especially since I don’t eat salad dressing, but this was just perfect. It’s really just a normal salad..but the avacado ‘dressing’ is TO DIE FOR (and guilt free!!)
Cut up half a ripe avocado and “mix” it with your greens ( I used spring mix and baby kale) until they’re ‘coated’..I find it easiest if you use your hands for this 🙂
Add some lemon juice (I used half a lemon), salt, and pepper (this made a delicious, creamy, guilt-free “dressing”)
I also added some basil from my garden into the greens..this is optional, as you have to like basil. I LOVE basil..
I also added 3/4 of an apple as my carb (the other 1/4 went directly into my belly while chopping..apples are my weakness!)
I also used snap peas, cucumber, baby tomatos and orange peppers, but just throw in whatever you have/like. That’s the beauty of salads.. haha
(I ate this along with a leftover burger patty with mustard and sirracha–PROTEIN is important 🙂 )