Hee, hee, hee

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Yeah, sorry about not posting very often here -- too many social media sites, and I get confused.

 That being said, I'm very happy to announce that I've lost 20 pounds and 5.75 inches off my neck, waist and hips since the beginning of the year. That's 38 pounds in total lost from my highest weight, and the scales currently sit at 286.6.

I'm sure other people would look at that in horror and say, "How can you ADMIT to that weight?" I can admit to it gleefully because I haven't SEEN it since 2005. I'm HAPPY about weight 286.6, because it's an improvement on 290, and 300, and 324 (I may well have to get that number tattooed on me somewhere when this is all over). And my measurements have also gone down accordingly, so I'm down to two pairs of "skinny" jeans that I can't fit into (yes, I have "skinny" clothes that I've kept in the hopes that I would eventually be able to fit into them again, and it is a righteous boost every time I put on a piece and it fits). When I get to 275, my big reward will be a minor clothes shopping extravaganza, because I really need shorts and there are some freaking gorgeous t-shirts out there these days.

Do other people do that? Reward themselves when they hit a weight loss goal? I've been going big things for every 50 pound mark (got a professional and MAGNIFICENT massage for 300. Clothes shopping is scheduled for 275, another massage for 250, more clothes at 225, and I want to take motorcycle riding lessons for 200).

Anyway, that's the state of Melanie. How have y'all been doing?

Weightlifting: or, "Oh, my God, I'm HUNGRY"

Sunday, February 12, 2012

As you know (Bob), I'm 3/4 Eastern European. My people bred women who could pull a plow in case the Cossacks burnt the crops and they had to eat the ox that winter. Genetically, I'm designed to be muscular as all hell, and when I stop slinging the iron around is when I start packing on weight.

But weightlifting requires thought and discipline, and too often in the past I've said, "Screw it -- I'm tired/sad/stressed/what have you, I don't want to do squats, I'm just going to get on the stationary bike." Which is faboo for some people, but for me I can do cardio every day until the cows come home and not lose an ounce. Well, except for all the muscle that my body catabolizes.

So, come this year and I join MFP, and it really does make a difference being able to track what I eat and how I exercise. And by gum, I did lose 8 pounds that first month, but there were a couple of plateaus along the way that prompted me to take a look at what I was doing for exercise.

Yup -- cardio, mainly. Not good. So at the beginning of this month I started getting serious about the weights again. Hit the gym three times a week purely for weight work, bought NEW RULES OF LIFTING FOR WOMEN (awesome book, by the way), lifted heavy, ate a lot of protein.

Consequently, the scales have not budged an inch. Which I knew would happen, and is okay because I've been seeing visible changes in my arms, legs, and stomach. My clothes are slightly looser, and the tape measure (I'm only supposed to do it every two weeks, but I cheated yesterday) showed an eighth of an inch lost off my neck and hips. There might have been a corollating loss on my waist, but I'd just had breakfast so that kinda put paid to that. And I've been staying under my calorie limit -- been eating crap every so often, too, but then I eat something light and healthy for the next meal. I figure by the end of the month the scales should start moving down again.

That being said, I have noticed a rather major change in my metabolism this week. Before now, I would sometimes have to check the time to see if I should have a meal or a snack -- I didn't always get hungry, especially if I was wrapped up in a project (to the point where, 10 hours after I'd eaten something, I'd look up and wonder why the room was spinning, then think, "Oh, yeah...food would probably be a good idea").

11 days into the weights, however, and hoo boy, I get ferociously hungry every 3-4 hours. And I mean FEROCIOUS -- my gut rumbles like an express train, so much so that the cats have started to look at me funny. Maybe I'm saying something rude to them in Cat, who knows. Hunger stops me in the middle of my tracks, it wakes me up in the morning, it lets me know that my body needs fuel now, dude, and something with lots of protein, please.

As a result, there have been a few changes in my eating schedule. I've started doing egg white scrambles for breakfast (with a little bit of taco cheese, guacamole, sour cream and lots of salsa), drinking homemade protein shakes with cottage cheese, and I'm about the hit the store and go a little nuts in the dairy, meat and produce aisles. It still feels a little weird to be eating this much and this often, but the gut demands its tributes of protein and essential fats, and I must feed it before my husband wonders if its thundering outside.