Will power needed

It’s been a ghastly holiday season from a gastrological point of view.

I stopped weighing myself in early November and that was probably my big mistake.

Probably, because I indulged excessively in holiday cookies. As well as appetizers at the family get-togethers.

I will admit that I did not overindulge when it came to meals themselves. I’ve never been one to gorge myself on Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and cranberry relish. Never.

Unlike many peopme, my plate has always had plenty of white space on it. I merely take a small sampling of each dish. And I very rarely eat dessert.

I have never understood the purpose of holiday overeating. As a child, I watched relatives stuff themselves until they couldn’t any more, then they’d sit around and complain how full they are. “I can’t believe I ate so much.”

So why did you do it? No one forced you. There is no expected famine. Gluttony makes no sense.

I remember one sister-in-law, who shall remain nameless, brought a bottle of Pepto-Bismol to one Thanksgiving. My wife and I would visit one of our mom’s for a few hours, then we’d go to the other mom’s place for the evening.

This SIL did the same, going to her mother’s after finishing here.

After the Thanksgiving meal, she pulled out the bottle of Pepto and said, “I don’t know how you do it. Eating one huge meal then going to the other side of the family to eat another huge meal.”

We just stared at her. “We don’t eat a second meal when we leave here. We just have drinks and appetizers.”

I mean, seriously, it’s bad enough to gorge yourself at one meal but two in the same day?

But stuffing myself isn’t how I got myself in trouble. It was a cookie craving. We didn’t bake any this year (no spritz cookies! Sad face.), but we did pick up cookies from the suoermarket, including cookies freshly baked by some local bakeries.

And I ate those mindlessly, not counting or caring.

And I paid for it. I didn’t weigh myself — I was afraid of what the scale would say — but the visible evidence was there. My stomach was mocking me in the mirror. “You thought I was gone, didn’t you? Think again, because I’m baa-aack!”

I resolved, without making any resolutions, to get serious about exercise and eating right.

And I started the year off well. I ran the 1st, the 2nd, the 3rd. Unfortunately, my streak was to end there.

I was laid low by a cold. I didn’t run on the 4th because of chest congestion. Friday the 5th was worse. And I laid around that entire weekend, consuming nothing but liquids: coffee, teas, and soups.

Monday, the 8th, I felt no better and stayed home from work. Ditto Tuesday. Wednesday, I felt so bad I went to urgent care.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. The last time I took more than two consecutive sick days off was when I had shoulder surgery. Taking off sick from work just isn’t something I do.

Prognosis? Bronchitis and a left ear infection. They gave me antibiotics. Bit the thing that shocked me was stepping on the scale. Theirs read 218 pounds! That can’t be right! I’ve been on a liquid diet, for Cripe’s sake!

I weighed myself when I got home. My scale, which I’m still not sure how accurate it is, read 207.7 pounds. Better than their scale (why do they weigh younwith your shoes on?). Not as bad, but not good either.

Thursday I stayed home, but Friday the 12th I went in. My boss sent me home after half a day because I sounded so bad.

I had a three day weekend, thanks to MLK Jr Day, and when Tuesday, yesterday, rolled around, I made it to work. I went in even though I still wasn’t 100% (and still aren’t. I still have a cough, sore throat, and sniffles).

When I got home, I forced myself to run. It was a slow pace, just 5 mph, for about 1.25 miles. But it was better than nothing.

At that point, I had gone 13 days without any exercise.

I have to get back into a regular exercise routine. I have to get back into running shape and start lifting weights again.

I’ve let myself slide too far and I have to shore things up.

But dammit! It’s Girl Scout cookie time!

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Friday roundup

A Friday Haiku

It’s time to party

But we can’t since hackers stole

All of our info!

Equifax fux us over

By now, you’ve heard that back in July Equifax, one of three national credit bureaus that contain all our information, was hacked.

Approximately 143 million people could be affected. Information such as your name, Social Security number, date of birth, address, and driver’s license number could now be in the hands of unscrupulous cybercrimals.

In addition, 209,000 people could have had their credit card numbers exposed.

This is a data breach disaster of epic proportions. This makes hacks of Target, Wendy’s, Starbucks, TJ Maxx, Sony Playstation Network seem like peanuts.

Hacks like this beg the question, why do these credit bureaus exist? I mean other than to make our lives miserable when we try to buy a car. Why are they allowed to have access to, no, have control of all our information?

Didn’t anyone think it was a bad idea to have one company, or even three companies, in control of every person’s personal identifying information?

And why was this info stored where Internet hackers can access it? Shouldn’t it be on a stand alone system inaccessible to any outside snoopers?

And where is the outrage from Congress? Had this been the IRS that was hacked exposing 143 million Americans, the Republicans would have been all over them like flies on shit.

There would be Congressional hearings and investigations. Shouts of outrage at the IRS’s incompetence safeguarding American’s data. They’d grill the IRS Commissioner for weeks. They’d subpoena agency emails and records. Conservatives would be screaming for heads to roll and that the agency should be done away with once and for all.

Instead … silence. Why? Because Equifax is one of their buddy corporations who help the rich get richer by denying the poor and downtrodden credit.

This is our identities that were stolen and no one seems to give a damn. Everyone treats it like this is the new normal and we shouldn’t be surprised.

Well, I’m not just surprised by their lackadaisical attitude about guarding this information, I’m mad as Hell they had access to it in the first place.

Who wants to bet the Koch brothers info wasn’t affected by the hack? They probably keep the 1-percenters’ info secure on a separate gilded server accessible only to servants wearing tuxedos and white gloves with snooty attitudes.

Once again, a giant corporation fucks us over and no one cares.

Update: It looks like several Equifax executives sold their stock in Equifax before the hacking was made public. Scumbag bastards!

To find out if you were affected by the hack

Go to www.equifaxsecurity2017.com and click on the Potential Impact box at the bottom.

If you were affected, then they’ll give you a date when you can come back to sign up for a free year of credit monitoring.

Good luck.

Amwriting

Yes. I’m still dilgently at work editing the first draft of my urban fantasy fairy tale novel. And yes, I’m still finding it enjoyable.

As I read through it this first time, I’m getting excited because I still think it’s really quite good. Which is a strange reaction for me. Usually, I’m my own worst critic and I’m usually judgemental to the point that I start questioning the story’s worth and my own self-worth as a writer.

That isn’t happening this time. Should I be worried?

Why I still treadmill

For a while there, June and July, I was running outside. I’d get up early, greet the sun, and go for my run.

But now, darkness greets me, so I don’t morning run, I run as soon as I get home from work.

And I run on my treadmill. But why, you ask. Didn’t you tell us a while back that you found running outside more interesting than running on a treadmill? That the treadmill runs seemed to drag on forever?

Yes. Yes, I did. But running on the treadmill is so much more convenient and the weather is always the same. I don’t have to worry about the cold or the heat or rain or eventually, the snow.

Plus, and this will seem a little anal or OCD, I don’t like getting my running shoes dirty.

There. I said it. Running on the treadmill keeps my shoes looking pristine, as if I had just bought them. And I like that.

Running outside, my shoes would pick up mud, dirt, bug guts, and all sorts of icky god knows what kind of gunk. Yuck.

No thanks. I can deal with that on my everyday walkers, but not my running shoes.

Weird, right? But there it is.

Running and rowing

Anyway, I’m back to running a little over a mile a day (I admit I had a few bad weeks there trying to adjust my schedule and remotivate myself), except for the occasional rest day. Instead of increasing my distance, I’m gradually increasing the incline. I’m up to 5%, which doesn’t sound like much, but I can feel it in my hammies and glutes.

Then, after I run the mile, I immediately jump on my Cardiofit and row for several more minutes.

This keeps my heartrate up while working different muscle groups.

We’ll see if it makes a difference.

Weigh-In Friday

I made a decision on my diuretic. Last Friday, I weighed 204 pounds. Up from the previous Friday, but down from that Wednesday.

Well, on Saturday, I weighed myself and I had ballooned up to 208!

C’mon! It had taken me nearly two years to drop 30 pounds. I wasn’t about to put up with my weight going up and down like a yo-yo because of how much water I was retaining depending on how much salt I consumed.

My scale shouldn’t be like a roulette wheel where I wonder what weight it will stop on each time I step on it.

Therefore, I went back on the diuretic.

Today my weight is down to 200.7 pounds. Nearly what it was before I started monkeying around with my hypertension meds.

I’m back on track with my weight loss goal. No more experiments.

A Haiku about TheRump

He thinks he’s our king,

And we’re his loving subjects;

Fuck you, you orange turd.

And In Closing

For those in the path of Irma, stay safe. You’re in our thoughts. As are the people in Texas still trying to recover from Harvey.

For the rest of you, I hope ya’ll have a great weekend, even if some pimply-faced teenager in Russia is maxing out your credit thanks to Equifax.

Here’s a song to leave you with:

Enjoy.

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Some weighty thoughts

A long time ago, I read somewhere, can’t recall where, this was long before the Internet, so it was in a magazine, possibly “Prevention,” or “Shape,” or something along those lines.

A so-called health and fitness doctor said, “You’re ideal weight is what you weighed when you graduated high school.”

OK. There is one problem with that. What if you already had a weight problem then? Just because he seemed to have been at an ideal weight for him when he graduate high school, doesn’t translate to everyone having that same idealness.

For instance, I was just skin and bones when I graduated high school. I weighed all of 125 pounds. That translates to an underweight Body Mass Index (BMI) of 17.7. Normal BMI range for adults is 18.5 to 24.9. I was in the 9th percentile, meaning 91% of Americans weighed more than I did at my age and height.

I was able to suck in my gut so far, it would go up into my rib cage.

Yeah. I was one of those people who could eat as much as I wanted, not exercise, and never gained an ounce of weight. Those were the days.

Except it’s wasn’t my ideal weight. I was too skinny. For my height my ideal weight should be between 134 and 167 pounds. When I reach my current weight goal of 185, I’ll still be marginally overweight according to most health charts and I’ll have a BMI of 26.5.

I was a 17 as a teenager and a 33 just a few years ago

But when I reach that, I’ll still be healthier than I am now and I’ll also be healthier than I was when a I graduated high school.

So I have no idea where that so-called expert came up with the notion that your high school weight is your ideal weight, because that’s just a stinking pile of bullshit.

What is your ideal weight? Well, you could look at all the charts and graphs and measure and weight yourself until you come up with an estimate or you could just go see your health care professional, discuss your health goals and desires, and together you can come up with a healthy and reasonable weight goal. They might even be able to prepare a diet and exercise plan.

Do not put any faith into the Internet or so-called celebrity experts.

As they say, consult your doctor before you start any exercise or weight loss program.

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A weigh we go!

I’m reaching what for me is a milestone in my weight. 

Me, after my thyroid went wonky

Back in 1999, I blew up like the Michelin Man when my thyroid went on the fritz. Seriously, I have one picture that if I find it shows that is no exaggeration. My skin is white and puffy and you can hardly see my eyes because they’re just slits surrounded by puffy flesh. My lower legs were the worst. They had lost all their hair and were like playdough. You could push in on the flesh and leave a one-and-a-half inch indent that would stay there for quite some time. (Anyone remember the old pulp fiction action hero, The Avenger, who had lost nerve function to his face and could mold it like putty, changing his appearance to that of anyone? It was a little like that.)

I thought I was dying. I was scared.

My doctor ran me through a whole battery of tests to figure out what was wrong — nerve testing for my carpal tunnel syndrome symptoms, chiropractors for my severe back pain, blood tests to see why I was cold and tired all the time — which is amusing (now that I look back on it), because we had a ferret who had a thyroid problem and he lost all the hair on his legs, so my wife kept saying it was my thyroid; it took my doctor months to come to the same conclusion!

And my weight shot up because my thyroid wasn’t regulating body functions properly; I was retaining fluids and I was just too damned tired to exercise. This experience has also made me a little less critical of people with weight problems because as with me, it might not be their fault and might be a medical condition.

So since 1999, I’ve been well over 200 pounds. I think I might have peaked close to 250 before I started taking my thyroid medication.

Today, I weighed myself and I’m almost, but not quite, at the point where I’ll drop below 200 pounds. Honestly, I can’t remember when I was below that. Early 1990s when I was still running seriously, before I developed shin splints? 

Now I’m only a couple pounds on the wrong side of 200. Part of me wants to fast just to reach it, but my luck, my body will think it’s experiencing a famine and it will hold onto its fat reserves even more tenaciously. So, no. Fasting isn’t the answer.

I do think I’ll run more often now that I see I’m approaching that marker. Instead of running three times a week, I’ll try to run five. Yesterday was the first time i ran on back-to-back days and i felt good.

Even though i can see 200, I’m nowhere near finished; after 200, I’ll still have at least 15 more pounds to go to reach my goal, but 200 is a great marker indicating my goal is within reach.

Yesterday, for grins, I lugged around a 20 pound barbell. It was exhausting! And I used to carry that, and more, around all the time!

By the way, losing weight is hard. You have to do exhausting aerobic exercises, get your heart rate up, sweat, breath heavy, for at least 20 minutes at a time, every other day preferably, plus you have to watch what you eat, count calories, watch fats, increase fiber, eat more fruits and veggies, and drink a lot of water (not soda or sugary energy drinks), and even then, depending on your.motabolism, you aren’t guaranteed fast results or huge losses.

Anyone who tells you losing weight is easy or all you need is their magic pill or secret formulation or miracle diet or superfood, tell them to Fuck Off. In fact, punch them in the nose, give them a good kick in the groin, then tell them to Fuck Off. The punch and kick will be good exercise.

Eat right. Drink water. Exercise your ass off.

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Junk Food Junkie

Yes, folks, I’m here to tell you I’m a junk food junky. Always have been, probably always will be.

Now let me tell you, I try, yes I do. I try to eat healthy, or at least healthier than I have, but there’s just a certain something about heavily salted snack chips that I find irresistible. 

As I’ve said, I’m down 20 pounds from a year ago, part of that is walking, and now running, and part of that is eating salad or something light for lunch. 

I’ll eat a big breakfast, essentially an English muffin, egg, bacon,  and cheese (a slice of Velveeta! I can hear the gasps from here) sandwich. And I’ll eat a good dinner. In between, I’ll have some pretzels, a fruit like an apple or cutie, and a salad, just lettuces and spinach–I no longer add cheese or croutons or bacon bits or other salad accessories–and a low fat, low calorie dressing like raspberry walnut vinaigrette. 

But come evening time, like the song says, I become a junk food junkie. I know I shouldn’t, but I get this craving for salt, for something crunchy, crispy, and flavorful. I’ve tried munching carrots or apples or raw broccoli, but none of that satisfies my craving.

So I grab a bag of chips, or sometimes a can of shoestring potatoes, and I go whole hog. Lately, I’ve been scarfing down Lay’s new flavors (damn you, Lay’s!), but my old standby is cheddar and sour cream.

I’ll polish off a bag in a couple nights. We’re looking at 160 calories and 10 grams of fat per ounce. In a 13 ounce bag. That’s 2,080 calories and 130 grams of fat in just a few nights! Considering a 3,500 calorie gain or loss equals a pound of fat, that extra 2,080 is putting the brakes on the weight loss.

I’d probably have lost an additional ten pounds by now if it weren’t for junk food.

Guess I just have to run faster and farther.

“But at night I’m a junk food junky, good lord have pity on me.”

-30-

Run Ed Run Part II

Revenge of the Splints.

And then …

I had no and then. Sorry. But what I did do is over the last two years, I’ve tried to lose a little weight. I ate salads for lunches and managed to lose 16 pounds.

And I managed to gain ten. But I didn’t become disheartened. Instead I took a long hard look at my eating habits. I’ve learned that I don’t eat because I’m hungry. I eat because it’s a mindless habit. 10am is snack time. Noon is lunchtime. 2pm is another snack. And so on. Well, I’ve tried to limit how much I eat. I’ve become a nibbler. Between a good breakfast and dinner I will now eat a few pretzels, some carrots or snap peas, an orange or an apple. And that’s it.

So I’m down six pounds at last count.

As the weight has come off, I’ve tried to run. And I discovered something else about myself: I’m an impatient bastard.

I want to be in shape NOW. I want to run fast and long NOW. So I started up on the treadmill a couple months ago and instantly set it for a 12 minute mile.

I did that a few times the first week. At the end of the run I was gasping for breath. And my shin splits started to nag me again.

It was a conversation with my doctor that made me see the light. I said, “I can’t run like I did in my twenties.” And he said, “That’s because you aren’t in your twenties.”

Well duh. Obvious, now that someone said it.

So how do I run at my age? Slowly. Building up gradually. I went back to step one. I used my treadmill’s programmed functions to run a slower pace.

I started running at a slow pace for 12 minutes. Just enough to sweat, but not so much that I was winded.

And it’s working. In the last few weeks I’ve worked up to running 1.5 miles in a little under 20 minutes. Still not so fast that I’m gasping like a fish out of water, nor too stressful that my shins are protesting.

Plus I’m doing various lower leg stretches and using a yoga roller tube thingie.

I just have to be patient, no matter how much I’m chafing at the bit to set a personal best in time or distance.

One step at a time, as they say.

I just have to remember to go slow and easy and with time, I’ll improve.

I’m running again and that makes me happy.

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