Thursday, January 27, 2011
A Day of Silence
For those of you who read Barbara's blog, you know that her husband has been battling Multiple Myeloma now for a very long time. He lost his battle yesterday.
I had the immense pleasure of meeting Barbara in Chicago. And though we didn't have a lot of time together, she managed to say some things to me, that although I had heard them before...really hit home. I believe that her words will play a part in changing my life. I have told her as much before.
It makes me very sad to think of the pain that she and her family are going through. My heart goes out to her.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
From the Mind of a Coo Coo Bird
Scales (aka, Satan's numerical instrument)
Electric Bandlady was throwing poop pellets at her scale today. You know...poop pellets. Anyways, her scale is batshit crazy as well.
*Can we pause for a moment and talk about the term "batshit crazy"? I mean, why is batshit anymore crazy than say iguana shit? I've heard of apeshit crazy, but never like lamashit crazy...I was just wondering*
So, back to the scale. It hit me. You know back in the day, like in the 60's or 70's or something, women burnt their bras in protest and as a symbolic way to say UH NO! I AM WOMAN HERE ME ROAR...well wouldn't it be fun if we did that with our scales? Burnt them. oooh oooh...or SHOT THEM with RIFLES?
But alas, I could never do it.
But now I want you to really think for a moment. Isn't it funny that it is us, our little old selves, that put this ENORMOUS amount of weight (pun pun pun alert) on the number on the scale. Take me for example. Bitch and moan. Why just this morning I was fussing. And is anyone else on my ass about the number on the scale? nope. Just me. I am the only one really who cares if I weigh 170...or 160...
A Book in Our Eyeballs
Okay. This is top secret. So, I am just sharing it with you, my 650 plus followers. DO NOT TELL ANYONE. But I thought of the most INGENIOUS invention today. Patent pending (ps. not really).
So sometimes when I go to a really boring meeting, I wish I could be reading a book instead. Like, while I am in the meeting. So today, I thought it would be fantastic, if someone could invent a little machine that goes into your eyeballs and you could read a book inside your eye balls and no one would know. Like an internal Kindle! OH SNAP! I know. I am a genius. And think about it. It wouldn't have to be limited to books. You could Facebook inside your eyeballs as well.
I am telling you kids. This could be big.
Gen made a nice post about finally finding her Green Zone again. In this post, she mentioned some us more seasoned bandsters, and how it doesnt seem to her that we talk a lot about having or not having restriction, pbing, etc.
I think I do, its just that I inundate you guys with a bunch of other nonsense, so it all blends together. But, I would also assume that for me, once I got restriction, it stayed with me for awhile and I didn't need to talk about it. But in my response to her on her blog...it made me think.
Stay with me on this one.
Restriction, in all its glory, is no longer make or break for me. When I decided to lose some more weight last month, I thought restriction might help...so I got my second fill of the year. But..I was too tight, got the unfill, and now...my restriction is mediocre at best. And I am okay with that...BECAUSE...
I don't need it as much anymore. I certainly need my band. I love that I can't eat enormous amounts of certain things.
But after Dr. Friedman took out .5ccs, I can still eat bread, pasta, chicken... Things that when I was at my tightest...were a no-go or difficult.
And that's okay. Of course I can say this now because I am at goal. And it's easy to say it when you arent struggling everyday. But it is a weird thought.
And Gen raised another interesting point. She, and she is not alone in bandsters who have said this, finds that at her optimal restriction, food starts to become a non-issue for her. She experiences no real physical hunger and has to remind herself to eat. I NEVER had that happen. Even at my tightest, real hunger would return in 3-4 hours. And I constantly thought of food. Still do.
Holy Smoked Ham
I just realized that tomorrow is my two year bandiversary! Holy koala shit (see...doesnt sound right). That's crazy.
But, what made me think of that was that I had my 2 year blood work done and got the results back. I am apparently pretty deficient in vitamin D and vitamin B-50. So I am on 6000 IU's of vitamin D a day (um...that's a lot), and a B-50 supplement. Good times.
And I have been meaning to answer a few questions about the B-12 shots. Zara asked about shooting it in the ass (muscle) vs stomach (fat). I asked my nurse and she said either way it gets to where it needs to go. Muscle will get it there faster. Fat makes it less painful and it's easier.
Also, I know that I don't need to take the shots. I can take the sublinguals, and that is what I did for the first two years. I just wanted to see if I got an extra boost from the shot.
Ice Cream Sandwiches
Um. I love you.
Cinnamon Toast Crunch
Um. I love you too. I have decided it's just not safe to have this in my house. Against my better judgement I bought a box on Saturday. It's gone now. Not gone as in...in the trash. But gone as in...down my throat. Last night, as I was eating it in the dark, as fast as one can eat those beautiful squares of sugary goodness...I realized I probably looked absurd. So, I polished 'em off, chugged some milk, and said...toodles (although I know they are gone...they are not forgotten).
Oh The Scales Of Injustice
I havent been drinking my damn calories. I barely had any ice cream.
And yet my friends, the scale hates me. It just does. It however, LOVES the number 170. And that is what I have resigned myself to weighing for the rest of my life. There. I give up.
Okay, not really. Not yet anyways. I upped my cardio again this week. For the first time in my life, I ran 3 miles...without stopping. I am pretty proud of myself. You should know though, that I am an ugly runner. For example, at about one mile...the sweat starts. Bad, bad sweating. The red face cometh. At about 2 miles, I am sweating so much that Heather offered me her sleeve to wipe my head on (and muttered something about how it was so gross). At about this time, again, I will contribute it to the sweat now all over the treadmill, my earphones (and I just bought new ones that hook over the ear bc the crappy ones that come with the iPhone always fall out), well my new earphones start popping out.
And if there is ever a time when you DONT want to be without music, it's when you believe the treadmill is trying to kill you.
But I made it. In about 34 minutes. And then I went and did 45 minutes of circuit. I ran again this morning. 2 miles and then a mile at 15% incline fast walk. I will do circuit over lunch.
And we will see if the scale moves.
It should be noted that the first week I lost 8 pounds. The second week I GAINED 3 back. So to all of the haters saying that I have an advantage with the band...I say...OOOOH REALLY? Because like I pointed out, mama can eat some crappy food and gain weight just as easy as anyone else. So I guess you could say that I lost those three pounds...and I am back to my eight pounds down.
I was painting the master bedroom with weekend (which was previously occupied by our roommate who is no longer our roommate). It was a wretched red color. We have opted for a gray blue called Harmonious. Doesn't it make you just want to sing? The new furniture should be coming soon from Overstock. I am beyond excited.
Anywhoozle, Heather had picked up an extra shift at work to make money for new said purchases. Have I mentioned I love her? So I was wearing my sweats and sports bra to paint. I wouldnt do this if she was home, bc I would be too worried about what my stomach looked like when I was bent over. But then I walked by a mirror and thought..."Huh...not that bad".
So carry on wayward soldiers. To hell with the scales (I dont mean it. I dont mean it scale Gods!). Happy Wednesday!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Anyways, last night when the doctor, that I of course do not like and who does not support weight loss and often has nasty little comments about it (has this become a run on sentence yet), well, the doctor was telling the contestants their "real age" and their body fat. And one female contestant had a body fat of 54%. The doctor said that, and I am paraphrasing here, that basically, because she has such an abnormal amount of body fat, that she will have to work out (and this is actually what he said) "90 minutes a day, 6 days a week, for the rest of your life."
If someone told me that to lose weight and maintain it, I would have to do that...
I would say...mmmmkkkay. I QUIT. NO. I mean, that's not even a realistic expectation and I didnt really understand where he was coming from. Because she could certainly change her body fat percentage...whatever. I didn't get it. Neither did Heather.
So I called my doctors office today and wanted to find out what my last reading for body fat percentage on the big person scale in the office was.
In July, the last time I had a fill, it was 32.5.
This last fill, two weeks ago, it was 30.5.
Which considering I havent lost much actual weight since July, that's cool.
Wanna know what my starting total body fat percentage was? 54.2 percent. Basically just like that girl.
I don't know what that means. I wanna tell her there is hope.
Lord, maybe I need to go sob into Heather's lap again.
NO. Just kidding. I am feeling good.
Ooooh. One last thing. Guess what I did today? I gave myself my own B-12 shot. Like a big girl. Right in the belly fat. And it didn't even hurt.
Here's what happened. Heather and I were sitting in the bathroom, I on the toilet, her on the side of the bathtub.
*please note the lid was down on the toilet and I was using it as a chair*
We had just gotten out of the shower and were sitting in our little towels, talking. I actually had my head in her lap, and she was inspecting my back for "the cancer". I had a pouty face on, and upon Heather asking me what was wrong I said:
"What if I am just meant to always be fat"?
And then the tears came. And the snot, because I was face down in her lap afterall, which is prime-o drainage for snot when one is crying.
I am sure this came as a shock to her, because I don't really ever talk (out loud anyways) about feeling fat, or hating my body. And I KNOW I am not fat. But sometimes it is just overwhelming to have to work so hard to get away from 170. It's overwhelming because I DO work hard. I workout a lot. I don't eat terrible. I am active, healthy, and have more muscle, thus more calorie burning abilities, than ever. And YES, I am aware that I always say comparing yourself to others is DANGEROUS and RARELY BENEFICIAL to ones self-esteem...but sometimes I do. I say "Well, that girl doesnt even work out and she is thinner than me damn it". Or other bandsters weigh oodles less...why can't I?"
Blah. Yucky opiaufmn;fj lkjf alkfjldfja;lsjkf abv*&^!&^$!
And so I cried. I cried as she told me that I was beautiful, sexy, perfect. And I couldnt really stop. Heather supports me and understands that I want to lose a few more pounds, but doesn't think it is necessary. I just feel a mess sometimes. It is so silly to regret...anything really. And it is a waste of energy to hold a grudge against myself for allowing my body to get so stretched out that it will never be "normal".
But sometimes I do let myself go there.
And eventually I stopped crying....and snotting.
And today is better. I did cardio this morning for 40 minutes and I am getting ready to do circuit during my lunch.
I guess you just have to be the best person you can be right NOW. You use what you've got to get what you want.
So carry on my soldiers!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
How To Boil A Frog
In junior high, whenever we had to serve a detention sentence, we would have to hand copy a "moral story". All of these stories were intended to teach a life lesson while cramping our hand and making us vow to never do whatever it was that earned us detention in the first place...or at least vow to never get caught again.
Well, one of these stories has stuck with me. And that story my friends, is the story of the frog and the hot water.
You see, if you drop a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will jump out. The water is too damn hot. Frogs aren't that dumb. And neither are humans. But let me continue on with Mr. Frog. Now, let's say that we place the frog in luke warm water instead of boiling. The frog will just relax and chill. And as he gets comfortable, we can turn the heat up a little bit. The water gets hotter and the frog adjusts.
And we keep turning the heat up. Little by little. And before too long, the water is so hot...it's boiling. And the frog, because he has adjusted to the heat, little by little, boils right along with the water.
And it dies.
Because it got used to the hot water. It adjusted. And then, it was too late.
Life can be like this.
We can get used to it. Whatever IT is.
That's how we became fat right? We didnt wake up one day 50, 100, 250 pounds overweight. We would have said HELL NO. SOMEONE FIX THIS! It crept up on us. And we looked the other way, thought a different thought. And little by little, we let the weight creep up. Until one day we were dying.
It's not just weight though. This can happen with anything. Finances. Relationships. Work. We can adjust to the things that hurt, or are "amiss". We chalk it up to life. We become accustomed to "it". And that is a scary place to be. A dangerous slope.
But even being aware of this fact...it's hard to take a stand sometimes. It's hard to really say "This is not right". It's easier to shut that voice down.
So I have no answers or wisdom. I was just thinking about this yesterday and wanted to share with you guys. It should be noted that when I wrote the majority of this post, I was experiencing a temporary layover in pity party land.
You will be happy to know that my flight has departed and I am feeling better.
It's still a good moral lesson though don't you think? Sort of the Aesop's Fable of Frog Cooking?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Cottage Cheese Taco Dip
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
16 oz. cottage cheese (small curd)
1 env. taco seasoning mix
1 (8 oz.) jar salsa
2 tomatoes, chopped
8 oz. Cheddar cheese, shredded
Combine cream cheese, cottage cheese and taco seasoning mix in bowl; mix well. Spread on large serving dish. Chill for several hours. Layer salsa, lettuce, tomatoes and cheese over mixture. Serve with taco chips.
You can really top the cottage cheese taco seasoning mixture with whatever. I dont like olives, so I only did olives on half and added jalepeno slices on half.
First, have you ever happened upon one of those HUMONGOUS scales in a grocery store? I am not talking about the ones that weigh produce. I am talking about the ones that weigh humans? They are in everyone of our Publix grocery stores down here. The sit right in the front of the store, near the door, where everyone from God to granny can see your weight.
Who in the hell gets on a jumbo scale in public? I wonder this all the time. For me, it causes tremors and reminds me of how I used to be terrified by those people at amusement parks who would yell on the microphone as you walked by. "Step right up. Let me guess your age....or your weight!"
I would walk by as quickly as I could. Who would one some man whose voice is being amplified to guess your weight to the world? WHO?
Which takes me back to the scale in the grocery store.
Do people weigh before grocery shopping to deter themselves from buying junk food? I dunno? But I always wonder.
So the other, by a rare stroke of something, Heather went into the grocery store with me. Usually she is like the old men who just sit in their trucks while their little ladies shop. Anywhoo...we are walking into the grocery store and I see the scale and am about to say "Who gets on those damn things"...
When my sprite little girlfriend hops on.
And my question was answered.
They are weird.
Locker Room Etiquette
So in the morning when I work out, I shower after circuit. There are 2 showers in our locker rooms here at work. Today, 2 girls from circuit (one who I know is UBER slow in the shower) beat me to the locker rooms. I dilly-dallied around the gym for about 10 minutes, thinking I would give them time to get in the shower and be done. Well. NO. By the time I got back there, they were still chatting like two slow hens. Finally they got in the shower. And there I sat. In my towel. Just waiting.
And thinking. Who takes forever in the showers at work when you know someone is waiting? WHO? So at least 12 minutes later they both emerge. I get in the shower, shampoo, condition, and clean my dirty bits in under 2 minutes.
They were still not dressed by the time I did my hair, makeup, got dressed, and left.
Lumpy Cold Things
I have never really eaten cottage cheese in my life. Over the holidays, I ate, and now make...a really yummy cottage cheese taco dip. Man it's good. But I never just eat it plain.
My coworker bought one of those 100 calorie cottage cheese and fruit mixer things for me. So I mixed in the strawberries and tried to eat it just like that.
Amy no like. It's the weirdest texture! So I ate it with wheat thins and it was pretty tasty. Well, that might be exaggerating a smidge...but it wasnt bad, and for 100 calories and 9 grams of protein...I think I can do it again.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Lady Talk About "The Station"
There. Now we can talk about anything. And I have. I have talked about my lady station, ham wallet, dangly bits, in detail. Do you remember Mr. Turkey from the era of "bloggers talk about shaving their pubic hair"?
Well. It is fair enough to say that Mr. Turkey's waddle was, and is still, an accurate depiction of what's going on in my business region.
And it is also fair to say that since I was a youngster, about the time when I discovered my first little sprigs down there, I have had a love hate relationship with "my girl". Mostly hate. Don't like it. It's ugly.
Well, something happened yesterday. And I knew in my heart of hearts, you would want to know about it.
I got out of the shower and was sitting in the bathroom "hoovin" the bottom of my feet. You know..using the sandpaper thingie. And I started looking at my freckles. Well, I was following my freckles and noticed a few on my inner thigh and a couple close to my inner buttcheek, and then I noticed a freckle right outside of my cha cha.
Thank you tanning beds.
But as I was plundering around looking for potential skin cancer I realized...
I no longer hate my vagina.
We have made peace.
And I don't know when or why this happened. I will tell you one place I have not lost weight is in my actual dangly bits. Still dangly as ever. And since I have lost weight in the meaty section of the cha, the danglers are more pronounced. But...I'm okay with it.
And perhaps its because I am a, how shall we say this...perhaps because I am with a woman now...you kinda have to be cool with the vagina. It's not really an option. So maybe being forced to accept it has helped.
Regardless. I think it's life changing.
I know it just changed yours!
Well, I bet a couple of you are going to look for vagina freckles next time you are nakie.
So go forth and make peace with your junk. Shake hands with it. Hug it. Give it a pat. Life's to short to be angry with it for not looking lady like.
End of Week One: Biggest Loser
Remember, we had a goal of 2 pounds a week so we can reach our 10% individual goal by the end of the 3 month competition.
I lost 8 pounds according to the official scale.
On my scale, I am down 4...which is a more accurate reflection.
It's fun to see the scale moving again.
Of course this morning several of my competitors chalked my weight loss up to my band. I just smiled. I wanted to say..."Do you know how much weight this little band has helped me lose in the last 6 months? ZERO."
Of course I wasnt really trying since I was in maintenance mode, but I will tell you what. My band didnt stop me from snacking yesterday. It didnt stop me from getting ice cream or a candy bar. No it didn't. I DID! I stopped myself. And my band didn't help me run on the treadmill yesterday. Nope. I DID.
So suck it.
Wooo, I feel better.
I forget to tell you guys though that there is a rule preventing WLS surgery patients from being in the competition. If you are within your first year of WLS, you can not participate. Well, I suppose you could, but you couldn't win. This is the third time they have done the competition. The first time I didn't play because I was still within my first year out, and although there wasnt a rule at the time for the WLS patients, I did feel I had an unfair advantage because I was still losing pretty good. The second time, I didn't compete bc I was at goal and didnt feel like I wanted to lose anymore.
Sadly, my partner ate like crappy cocka this weekend. I still think she will be down.
Let us see...what else.
OH...Heather and I now live...ALONE! Just us. Can you believe it? I still havent wrapped my mind around it.
Life is beautiful.
Monday, January 10, 2011
B-12 Shots: The Target Saga
So one time, my coworker who had bypass, gave me one of her B-12 shots. She administered it (she's a nurse) and off I went on my merry way. Well, I don't know if it was a placebo effect or WHAT, but a couple hours later I got home and was HYPED up! I found Heather in the back yard, where I danced around like a wild tree nymph and then dry humped her leg, danced a little more, more spontaneous dry humping.
So I asked Dr. Friedman if there really was an energy boost with the shot vs the sublingual. He said maybe the day of the shot. And he wrote me a prescription.
So today I went to Target to have it filled.
Here is where you need to start paying attention.
My coworker pays $5 for a 30 dose vial of B-12. So, that is the price I had in mind.
When I went to pick up my prescription, it was $31....for 10 doses!
I stared at them blankly and then poor girl tears almost started falling. I had $33 dollars in my bank account to make it for another 2 weeks.
I said "Why so much".
They said" insurance doesnt cover it because it's a vitamin".
So I paid my money and left, dejected.
I called the doctors office on the way back to work and talked to the nurse, Jennifer. Remember I work for the hospital system where I had my surgery, and she said at the hospital pharmacy it is much cheaper.
I called the hospital pharmacy. Sho' nuf. $12 for a 30 dose prescription! So, I can't do math, but if you take in the dosage, I think Target charged me about 4x as much as the hospital.
I called Target and said..."Can I return these meds and syringes? I can get them over here for $12, and get 3x as much".
Well, you can't return meds. BUT, after they put me on hold, they came back and said "Next time you come, it will be free. And from then on, just tell us what your pharmacy over there charges, and we will charge you the same".
OH. IS IT THAT EASY? Can I just name you a price since you just apparently make yours up as you go? Huh, well in that case...the pharmacy in FRAGGLEROCK only charges a penny.
So, what can we learn children? That not all pharmacy's charge you the same and you should shop around.
I get back to the office and Deanna (coworker) is going to teach me how to give myself a shot. I am not particularly squeamish...I donate blood all the time. But once we got to the part where I actually had to poke myself...I couldnt do.
There is some sort of mind block that prevents one from sticking oneself with a needle. So she had to do it for me.
And it didnt hurt at all.
Friday, January 7, 2011
I called my doctors office this morning to see if I could get a prescription for the heartburn.
Negatory Ghost Rider. They must not have seen me batting my eyelashes and pleading.
They said that I was too tight and to come over and he would take a little out. So off I went. Dr. Friedman said I was just making up reasons to come and see him.
He is so smart.
He did not say "I told you so". Good man. But he did take half of my fill out. So, that left me with .5cc fill.
He said that what was probably happen (I shall put it into Amy speak) is that the fluid wasnt leaving my band completely so when I laid down, it was coming back up. Something like that.
So, that's the story folks. Consensus is that it's not good to have acid reflux. You just never know when you get to experience something new with your band!
Please Send Band Fairy With Answers ASAP
Funny. But not very helpful. hahaha...I would read one comment and think "woo, I am overreacting"...and then I would read the next comment and think "I am going to die".
I didnt read any of the comments until this morning, but here is how it went down last night.
I ate some soup for dinner around 6:30. We laid down in bed around 9. I fell asleep and within 5 minutes, it shot into my mouth like a rocket. I was coughing and hacking, Heather was pounding on my back. I went to the bathroom because I thought I was going to throw up, but I didnt. I made myself a little mountain of pillows, and slept at a slight recline the rest of the night. It didnt happen again. I had even taken a zantac before bedtime.
SO, my plan of action is...I am going to call my doctors office and see if I should come in for an unfill, or if they think if Dr. Friedman prescribes me some medicine...if I should see how the weekend goes.
I have only had soups for my meals, but yesterday I ate a mini packet of m & m cookies and they went down just fine. So it's not like I FEEL like my actual restriction is too tight in regards to food, but this reflux thing is not cool. I don't want to do damage just because I am being greedy.
I will keep you posted! Thanks again and Happy Friday!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
I'm Fully Loaded
It was fill day! Yippeeee. Yippeeee because I of course got to see Dr. Friedman who is looking great! He is doing well and on a good track. It made me feel so much better. He told me he wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon.
He better not be lying to me. Because I will kick his ass. Gently.
He told me he hadn't read my blog in awhile...that the last time he read it "I had started dating a woman".
So we chatted for awhile, caught up, laughed like school girls. I told him everything I have been eating. He told me he didnt believe me, because I hadnt gained any weight.
I told him I was for-realz. And that I was only being saved by working out. But just barely.
So he said, "Okay, I will give you a .5cc fill."
I just stared at him. With big doe eyes, blinking.
And he said "You want more. I will give you more if you think you need it. You know your band".
So I got 1cc.
And I hope I don't regret it. I ate the Creamy Chicken Divan Soup that I posted about yesterday. I ate close to 2 cups, nice and slow. No problem.
But about 30 minutes into my sleep...my stomach acid started coming back up into my mouth. In all my years of being banded (that sounded fun), I have never had heartburn. Never. In fact, I am not sure I have ever had heartburn in my life. But it was gross. I would fall asleep and wake up as it literally gushed into my mouth. I would swallow it back down and try to sleep again. I would say this happened about ever 10 minutes. I was a little panicky. Heather was scared I was going to drown.
By 3 am I decided I would try to sleep on the recliner. And for two hours, I slept...no stomach acid.
This morning I ate a can of cream of chicken soup. It took me about 30 minutes, but it was just fine.
So I am still feeling out the fill. I feel like I am a baby bandster again. I am a little afraid to eat something solid. But I might give it a try later.
I shall keep you posted my friends!
OH...I forgot to tell you that while I was at the doctors office, I got to speak to two potential bandsters. Of course I pulled my shirt up for them, let them feel my port. I am excited for them!
OH, ONE MORE THING. SO, I know some of you have been so tight that you had the reflux. Can someone explain to me what our band being too tight has to do with that?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Amy Tired. Thoughts Are Sparce
I am pretty sure this may turn out to be the longest day of my life. I didn't sleep very well last night, and I woke up early to workout...which is normal for me on Tuesdays and Thursdays (I wake up at 5am and circuit is 6:30), but Wednesday's I usually work out over lunch...but not today because...
I get my fill today! I get to see Dr. Friedman and I didnt want to be a sweaty pig beast!
SO, I ran on the treadmill this morning and spent some time stretching. I miss stretching. I dont ever do it anymore...and let me tell you sumpin...after doing weights month after month...your muscles get a little tight.
Anywhoodle. Back to my fill.
I should tell you that my restriction is sad, sad, sad. And it's been that way for months, months, months. Although I still get stuck about once a week, it's always my fault and usually results from trying to eat like a completely unbanded person. But this will give you a good idea of how loose my band is.
I can go to sonic and order a regular sized cheeseburger, take off half of the bun, and eat the entire thing right out of the wrapper. In less than 5 minutes. Pizza, cupcakes, onion rings...all right down the old pipe-ola.
So I am excited for my fill, but also a weensie bit nervous. I mean shitballs...I am going to have to:
a) chew my food (such a hassle)
b) eat slow (I have returned to shoveling)
c) actually think about what I am putting in my mouth
Man...it's hard to be me.
As for yesterday, the first day of the BL challenge, I can tell it will take awhile for my mind to understand that we are getting back in control. I had to run some errands for work and kept passing fast food restaurants and would say in my head "oooh, I can stop there and get (insert bad food choice)"...
I had to say NO AMY! You have soup at work!
I also have milk chocolate chips in our pantry at home. They are left over from making Christmas goodies. They live in a ziplock baggie. Sometimes I sneak a few in my mouth when Heather is not looking.
So last night I threw some down my throat and then skipped back over to the couch to cuddle. About 3 minutes later, we here a noise coming from the cupboard. We look over and it turns out the plastic baggie, in my haste to hide it, must have been barely on the damn shelf. It dropped, scattering chocolate chips all over the kitchen floor.
As I hustle over to scoop them up on my hands and knees Heather said "Did you eat some of those?"
humdeedumm....I can't hear her
Then she said, "AMY IRENE WORKMAN...dont ignore me. Did you eat some?"
DAMN YOU FOOD GODS FOR CURSING ME WHEN I WAS TRYING TO BE ON THE DOWNLOW. DAMN YOU!
Creamy Chicken Divan Soup
So I have been shoving this recipe around my desk, under my calendar, on my computer, in my purse...for months. I finally decided to make it. It was a nice change from my normal rotation of soups I make.
2 tablespoons butter
1 medium-size sweet onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, chopped
1/4 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1 (48-oz.) container chicken broth
2 (12-oz.) packages fresh broccoli florets (about 12 cups)
1 (8-oz.) package cream cheese, cut into cubes
4 cups chopped cooked chicken
1 (8-oz.) block sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded
Salt and pepper to taste
Preparation1. Melt butter in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat; add onion, and sauté 5 to 6 minutes or until tender. Add garlic and red pepper, and cook 2 minutes. Stir in chicken broth and broccoli. Cover and bring to a boil; reduce heat to medium, and cook 10 to 15 minutes or until broccoli is tender. Stir in cream cheese.
2. Process mixture with a handheld blender until smooth. Add chicken and shredded cheese. Cook, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes or until cheese is melted. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately with almonds, if desired.
Note: If you don't have a handheld immersion blender, let mixture cool slightly; process mixture, in batches, in a regular blender until smooth, stopping to scrape down sides as needed. Return mixture to Dutch oven, and proceed as directed.
I actually stuck to the recipe (pretty much). I added more garlic then it called for, I used a liberal amount of ground black pepper, and I bought a rotisserie chicken and chopped it to bits.
It is really good. I have been eating it all week, and have a few frozen for after my fill.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
You Know What's Hot...
And So The Game Is On
Here are the numbers--
My weight at home: 170.5 (this is the weight that my ticker will reflect because it's the only scale that matters in my heart)
My weight on the work scale: 176.5 (this is the weight that will matter for the competition)
My partners weight: 174.5
My Goal: 10 % (this is the ticker at the top of my page. In pounds, that is 17.6 pounds. We will be rounding to 18)
Again, the competion lasts 3 months. We are required to weigh in once a month on the "official" scale. I have my partner, Lisa, aiming for a 10 % loss as well. I feel that we can beat even the bigger competition if we can reach our goal.
I am pretty excited about it.
Here is our "before" fat picture.