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Low Carb Fluff, Delicious Fluffy Fluffiness and How I Got Back Here

I’ve been away lately. Well, not away, away as in on a big adventure somewhere, but you know, I’ve been avoiding my blog, whilst adventuring on as we do in our regular lives. And, shockingly, but not, I’ve changed weight loss strategies again. I’ve circled around, probably passed go, but wasn’t handed the Monopoly money on the way round. Why do I go through strategies, like socks? Seriously? I don’t know. I think that Continue reading “Low Carb Fluff, Delicious Fluffy Fluffiness and How I Got Back Here”

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Yoooo-Hooooo I’m Still Here, So’s My Monkey

A friend politely pointed out this week, and last week too, so I’ll take the hint, that I haven’t actually written a post since April. Uh… what? I have no idea what the heck she’s talking about. I write at least 2 posts a day; I admit, I write them in my head. I have so many excuses. Wanna hear them? What is it with humans and excuses anyway? My monkey is still right here. In fact, he grew a bit in the interim. F’ing fleabag. I’ve got excuses for that too, wanna hear them?

I’m busy. I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m carefree, or careless? I don’t give a flying *ck. I’m still tired. Did I mention hungry, no wait, hangry? I’m happy. Lots of squirrel activity, for sure. Not just in the yard either… my brain has been hyperactive. So, yeah, I know these are lame. Sad. But, all are true, and none are true. Nothing stays the same for long. I can use one of the above excuses for about two seconds and then BAM, I’ve got another one.

La La La
La La La

There are some cool new things. I’ve started (gulp) voice lessons for one. Yes, that’s gonna require a full post all to itself. Suffice it to say, I love to sing… to myself. Well, to my hubs, who admits he’s tone deaf and that music just goes in one ear and out the other. (SQUIRREL, once on a long car trip, I was asleep. I awoke to find that my hubs was listening to music in Spanish. I mentioned that I was impressed that he could enjoy Spanish music, he looked at me quizzically, tilted his head and in his wee Irish accent smiled and said, “Och, so it is.”) So singing to him is like singing to the air. I sang all the time to my babies. They’re not babies anymore and they tend to shush me now. They used to love it. Anyway, my dad is a great singer. He’s got a lovely voice, always has. Music has been a big part of my life, and well, someday I’ll write the post I’ve already written (like a thousand times in my head) about music and how much joy it brings me. How we used to sit on the big ranch porch with aunts and uncles, cousins and guitars and sing and sing. I know a bunch of awesome old folk songs, and old country. I’ve got a few new things in my bag too! You know… progress and all that.

And even though when I say the words out loud, “I’m a bit shy” people tend to burst into raucous laughter spontaneously, it’s definitely a true statement. Well, about singing anyway. So, there’s that. I’ve even gone and “performed” with other students at a local cafe. We had a band! (A wee check off the old bucket list). I almost died of fright and embarrassment, but that’s another post entirely. So now, I’ve got a keyboard (thank you Craigslist), an amp, microphone, mic stand, guitar and a knack for driving my kids nuts with it all. I love to run into the living room, grab the mic and tell them to “Get UP!!!” or sometimes I even sing things like, “Hey, Hey, Hey, please feed the dogs. They’re hungry little hogs…” or whatever happens to come out, with me, you just never know!

My oldest son is home from college and we’ve started guitar lessons. Yep. I’ve got funny little callouses on myguitar finger tips. It feels weird to type. (Hey, put that up in my excuse paragraph… that’s a good one!) It’s not taking up that much time since I’m not a good practicer, but you know. I need to know how to chord so I can take my guitar on my women’s trip to Costa Rica in January for the evening bonfires and sing alongs. Oh, yeah!! My friend is leading Wellness Adventures to Costa Rica. You should totally check it out and consider one. I’ll be live blogging/posting/social media-ing the whole time. You’ll hear a lot about that one, so stay tuned.

To be fair, I have been writing a lot, but you know, real jobs. I’ve been writing lots of professional bios for a real estate company here. It’s been surprisingly fun and I’ve met some people that I just adore. They don’t realize they’ve got such great stories!

So, well, that’s just part of what’s going on. I’m back on the wagon with my eating. Sigh. 30 pound monkey’s gotta go. Ha! Maybe I should write a weight loss song. Oh hell, I’ve already done that in my head too. Okay, fine. My goal is to start blogging again. Here, and on Friday For Good… and AdVerb Creative. Do me a favor and check them out. If I’m not doing it. Ping me. Help me. I need to write. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed you too.

Taking A Bacon Break

baconYes, I’m braking for bacon! I’ve been on this Ideal Protein diet and I’ve done well! I love the way I feel eating low carb. However, the routine has grown stale. I’ve taken a leave of absence from my lovely coach and my IP way of life. I’m trying on the Low Carb, High Fat diet that so many people are having success with. Okay, it’s a glorified Adkins type diet, I admit, but well, my family really seems to like this one. My dad and brothers have had good success while on this. Have I mentioned I’m built like a football player? (grin) I’m just lucky that way. I like muscle, and it likes me. (so does fat, though… who am I kidding?)

Yesterday was my first day, and I’m trying to keep my carb intake under 30. It wasn’t hard. I’m eating bacon. “I’m a bacon-aterian”, as my son once announced when he was about 4. I’m taking that idea, and I’m running with it. I mean, for gosh sakes, who wouldn’t want to be a bacon-aterian.

The hardest part though, is getting over my fear of fat. No, I’m not scared of myself, but I’m sort of balking (okay I ate about 8 pieces of bacon yesterday) but in my head, I’m balking at ingesting fat. It seems so counter-intuitive. I will go have my blood work done soon just to be sure I’m not absolutely freaking my numbers out. The research says my numbers will get better, but well, (*blush*) they’re already good! Except that blasted scale number, that one’s still bad.

Anyone out there on a LCHF stint? Can you please chime in here? Tell me how great you’re doing with full fat cream, lots of butter and sour cream by the spoonful… please?

Being Good This Week… (Squirrel!!)

My Ideal Protein coach is desperately trying to get me back on track. I’ve got 8 pounds of the 10 T-giving to

Promising to BE GOOD!
Promising to BE GOOD!

Christmas pounds I gained, left to lose. Sigh. So, she snapped a photo of me in her office, eating a protein bar and actually writing it down. I admit, writing it down helps. So, I started out being good. You know what they say about “good intentions” and the road to hell and all that? So, my intentions are there. Really! I’ve written everything down, and guess what? Yep, that furry little animal with the fluffy tail, and/or the shiny something that caught my eye, well, yes, that distraction happened! It was a good distraction though. Does that count as part of my “being good” this week?

slainte!
slainte!

Our 8th wedding anniversary happened! That’s a fine and very good thing. We celebrated a day early, you know, to reminisce about the lovely rehearsal dinner in Costa Rica with our friends and family.

Yes, we went out to celebrate our rehearsal dinner. Why not? It was a lovely night 8 years ago! So, away we went, braving the madness that is South By Southwest happening right now in our town, to this meal at the Four Seasons. This particular celebratory meal, included a starter, drinks, main course, a couple of sides (one of them was a vegetable, in my defense. Brussels Sprouts… flash fried, but a veggie nonetheless) and a tower of doughnuts, piping hot with special sauce and ice cream. They also brought a plate of bon bons on the house with “Happy Anniversary” scripted in chocolate down the plate. I indulged, okay, over-indulged and enjoyed my favorite company, my lovely hubs. The food was not spectacular despite it’s spectacularly stupid price, and we both were underwhelmed. However, the company was perfect.

Then, on the anniversary of our actual wedding day, we decided to head out again. We are worth a two night binge. We are! This time, we were not disappointed with our local fare at Jack Allen’s kitchen. We started at the bar for our hour wait, where we met a lovely couple from Santa Cruz, California. While we were chatting, I realized that the hubby and I had picked out my engagement ring in Santa Cruz over 11 years ago! How serendipitous was that? They were about to celebrate their 48th anniversary, and I loved her still strong New York accent when she said, “Before you know it, you’ll be celebrating 48 too!” I’ll be well into my 80s by then, and I have no doubt, we’ll be celebrating then too!

Our meal was less than 1/3 the price of our rehearsal meal the night before and about a thousand times better. I exaggerate not. The steak was perfection, the salmon delicious and the drinks and dessert, well worth eating. The company was still the best part of the meal, but we learned our lesson. The Four Season’s just can’t keep up with native Austin cuisine. Lesson learned! So, though my good intentions got lost in my good times, my heart is full and happy. Belly too. Besides, who wouldn’t want to celebrate our beautiful Costa Rican beach wedding / jungle reception again and again.

Magical Costa Rican Wedding. Definitely worth celebrating over and over!!
Magical Costa Rican Wedding. Definitely worth celebrating over and over!!

I’m a lucky, lucky girl. My diet can restart now.

Good Is Good

so goodSo often, I find myself smacking these keys when I’m feeling feisty. Sometimes, I mean feisty in a bad way. I write when I’m frustrated, mad at myself, mad at the world, or just feeling tired of the battle. Today, I’m definitely feisty, but it’s all good! It’s sunny, 60 degrees and beautiful! I’m not mad! I lost a pound, I gained a pound of muscle, lost an inch or two and all that Monkey business. In total, I’m 30 something pounds lighter than I was last June. I feel pretty, and happy. I’m not there yet. That’s what this blog’s about, and so much of the time it’s a struggle. Today though, good is good.

Recently, I’ve kicked up my volunteerism a notch. I’ve joined a group called Impact Austin, a group of philanthropic women who give 5 very large grants to non-profits every year. I’ve accepted a position on a Board of Directors for a charity that serves kids and suddenly, I’m so happy! I’m busy as all get out, but it feels so good to do good. It always does, but man, when you hit your forties (or at least when I hit my 40s) I started to question what kind of differences I was making in the world. My day job is business development. I am paid to build relationships and so it’s kinda perfect for me. It’s natural and easy, and luckily for me, genuine. However, am I changing the world? Am I making a difference? Okay, okay, I know that yes, I definitely make a difference to the people I work with and the clients I call on. I’ll never forget the “I love to see you walk in our door. You are always such a ray of sunshine!” compliment thrown my way one day as I walked in and had a good laugh with a client. Those moments are gifts, but really, I can’t see that the world is a hugely different place because my clients saw my sunshiney face that day.

This other stuff though, it has made me feel so fulfilled, energetic and worthwhile. I feel like I’ve grown into my own, quite suddenly. My life has taken on a sense of purpose that seems slightly different, slightly more elevated, slightly more, well, better. Good. Life is good.

And good is good.

Your 12 Hours Starts Now. Go!

fatclock 1This morning, The New York Times published an interesting article on their wellness blog. Though it seems that we’ve been hearing variations on this study forever, I like that there have been several experiments around this idea and it’s so very simple!! Basically, the “never eat midnight snacks” or “don’t eat after 6pm” mantras are pretty solid advice after all! Researchers fed mice different diets, high fat, high fructose, or high sucrose and mouse kibble. The mice who were allowed to eat kibble anytime they wanted ended up obese. The mice eating, whatever, but restricted to a time window, stayed sleek and healthy despite being allowed to cheat and eat whenever they wanted occasionally on the weekends. The poor obese mice, who used to eat whenever they wanted, when subjected to a time window of 9-12 hours, ended up losing weight. So, there’s hope people!

Though research hasn’t been done on human subjects yet, the scientists suggest that it won’t hurt to note what time you start with that first cup of coffee and stop 12 hours later. Sounds like a plan. I’m starting today.

Here’s the article.

Except at the Ranch

This week doesn’t count!!!! When you’re at the ranchito, it’s powdered donuts, alcohol, card games, and fire! Oh, and s’mores! So if I take a break to enjoy, and I call it in advance, these calories don’t count, just so we are clear!

IMG_4274.JPG

These Hips Don’t Lie

I’ve been in hiding from you. I’ve been hiding from me. Yep, and the truth. It’s been a lame (and futile) attempt to hide from the truth. This snarfing (and drinking, oh I will miss you Pom momtinis) with reckless abandon for the last month under cover of the “holidays” has been asinine, or maybe I should say ASS-and-nine. There’s really no hiding from the truth, is there? So here you go. I said my hips don’t lie and well, dammit if they’re not a full inch bigger.

And I gained ten pounds.

There.

I said it.

Back to the grind.

33 pounds to go.

Yeah. These hips don’t lie. Damn their honesty. (shakes head, looks at ass in mirror… limps away)

Credits roll: A special thanks to Ruby Red Vodka, cheesecake, Krispy Kreme, gluten free baking (I got skills) and the absence of Will Power. You’re a deserting sh*t Will.

Thanksgiving: I’m The Turkey

Gobble. Gobble. Gobble.

So, yes, my one day of eating freely, turned into 3 days of gobbling, AND 3 freaking pounds. The real truth is that I didn’t feel good after doing it. So why, why, why, why did I do it? I’m not stupid. Really, you may beg to differ by now, but I’m really not. I think that I just got tired. I was tired of being vigilant. I got tired of putting forth extra effort to find good food. I got tired of being good-ish and losing so slowly. I was all set to phase off my Ideal Protein regime before Christmas and then resume in the new year. You might have noticed, I got tired of writing. Well, maybe not tired of writing, but lazy on the blog front. I’m sorry. I missed it so. My fingers are flying and my brain is whizzing and my heart feels happy with every word I type.

I’m three pounds up, but I’m back on the horse. I’ve got a renewed vigor and desire to go ahead and tap that bell at the goal line. (What analogy is that? It makes no sense, but I like it. It is staying) To add insult to injury (in a literal sense), I’ve gotten a new Physical Therapy person at a new clinic. My surgeon’s office was great, but their PT guy was so busy that I couldn’t get in and not only was I slacking on the food front, I was slacking on my rehab, which frankly, is flat out astonishing. Unforgivable. I so want to play tennis again and be able to do all my activities without pain and swelling, that I’m kind of flabbergasted that I let life and busy-ness get in my way. I took a break from being good. I was bad.

kneeiceMonday though, thank God for Monday, I got back on the food wagon. Today, I hit the PT. Holy wow. I love my new gal. She really pushed me. In fact, she said, “Your knee’s gonna be mad, I’m not gonna lie.” I didn’t care. I went from not wanting to change clothes, go out in the cold in shorts, drive to the PT place and get going, to holy crap my legs are wimpy and weak and I’m so glad I got my ass out here to work out. It felt so good! It was a bit disheartening to realize that my good leg is actually my weak leg. What the…???  It was frustrating to have your muscles not respond like they’re supposed to. She promised to make me strong again and re-emphasized that microfracture surgery is kind of a big deal. She reminded me that most athletes don’t get back to their sport for 6 months after that kind of surgery. She was encouraging and kind. She brought me back from the brink of knee hell. Yes, it’s swollen and a wee bit sore, but it hurts so good. Hand me the ice pack, a protein bar and my laptop. I’m back! Dammit, I’m back, with a tiny limp, a few extra pounds and a head of steam. Watch out.

Let’s go!

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