My Advice? You Want MY Advice?

178.4 lbs. Two days ago, it was a big WHOO HOOO! Today, it’s old hat.

Due to learning/mastering a new job, I have been off-line. Anybody going through withdrawal symptoms, sorry about that. However, I need to earn money for gym fees and Trader Joe’s runs.

I nearly got kicked in the face during yoga class yesterday. No, the Drip Sisters didn’t return. It was another young woman with the runway poker face (supermodel wannabe). The room was wide open, but she had to set up within “smell my feet” range of my mat (which was already there because I got to class on time). The next non-Susan foot that comes near my face is getting yanked or slapped. I don’t care if it creates a ruckus in class. And yes, we were breathing and stretching to reggae, Pearl Jam and George Harrison again. Anything Beatles makes me smile (unless it’s Cirque du Soleil: I find it creepy and too European. Plus, I don’t pay beaucoup mega big bucks to see anything French Canadian unless it’s wearing black and gold and skating for the Bruins).

I have several friends who are also working on their fitness (and I’ll bet anybody reading this who isn’t working actively to improve fitness has at least 1 friend who is). One was telling me about hitting a plateau and asked me for suggestions for breaking it. Even though this person is a HUGE Looney Tunes fan, I didn’t recommend the Dynamite Diet that I threaten under the circumstances. Rather, I suggested that he vary his exercise routine with something like swimming. I find it amusing that people are asking me what they should do about diet and exercise. To the dipshit in the parking lot who told me I was angry because I was overweight and the discussion board jerkoff who called me a “fat fucking whore” because I could write better than he does: kiss my lily-white ass, you gomers. I’ll bet you’re both still miserable human beings.

Oh, and no, I won’t go swimming myself. It completely undoes my nail polish and I work HARD to put that on and get it right. Even the steam room erodes it. If OPI (What so proudly I hail. Best  nail polish and products in the business) comes up with a waterproof nail polish, I volunteer as a test subject.

The inner thigh flaps are rapidly shrinking. When in Forward Fold (Utinatasana?), I noticed I can see slivers of daylight between my  thighs. This makes me eligible to wear corduroy without risk of starting a fire.

The waist that I thought I saw a few weeks ago is becoming a reality. It’s very shy: I only get a glimpse of it from time to time. However, unlike Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, I WILL prove that it exists.

The arm flaps are slowly tightening up. I blame myself for the slow progress: I should be working my triceps harder than I do. I’m supposed to be developing my push-up ability, which depends on good triceps and chest muscles. Clearly, if I’m referencing this as “supposed to be”, I’m not doing it. Yeah, I know: I said doing a push up was a goal. Annoyed sigh. I’ll work on it; stop nagging.

When I get to the 50 lbs. down mark (174.6 lbs, or 3.8 lbs. from where I am now), I will get measured again. Until, then, I’ll just keeping trying on those size 12 jeans to see if I’m getting closer to successfully zipping them.

Another aspect I’m really enjoying with respect to this is watching my BMI drop.  It has gone from 35.4 to 27.9. Granted, I will be eligible for group medical insurance through my job, but if I have to buy my own insurance, I know from ugly experience that the first thing a company asks you is how much you weigh and your activity level. And then, the computer turns you down if it doesn’t like the answer. Who needs an actual exam and a blood chemistry panel when you have an algorithm? Suck it, United Health Care, Blue Cross and Aetna.

The necessity to measure and record everything I put in my mouth has had a couple of unintended benefits: 1) it does make me more mindful of what and how much I’m eating. My Net Diary essentially imposes a budget of calories and although exercises allows it to be stretched, it’s not a blank check. I’m striving to hit certain nutritional markers (daily recommendations of fiber, calcium, fats, protein, etc.) and there’s not much room for things like ice cream or a cheeseburger. 2) Cravings for things like chocolate and cheeseburgers have largely died. Partly because I’ve corrected whatever part of my brain demanded them and partly because I don’t want to blow out my calorie budget for the day with one snack (Whoever at McDonalds or Burger King thought to market their products as “snacks” is probably some evil little skinny vegetarian marketing drone (which makes him evil anyway) who, like a scientist in a bad 1950s sci fi movie, has vowed to destroy humanity) and 3) I’ve been cash strapped lately and being mindful about what I’m eating and how much has allowed me to stretch out my food supply rather than the panicked gobbling I used to do when faced with a money/food shortage.

I’m heading into this holiday weekend with reason to celebrate. I doubt I’ll wake up nearly 4 pounds lighter tomorrow morning (but that would be SWEET!), but I’m in a lot better shape than I was on the Fourth last year. And I’ll be taking the pictures to prove it.