Tag Archives: diet

Mile 1741: Just Say No


“Getting good at starting over
Every time that I return.”
–Foo Fighters, “Walk”

Miles Last Week: 61
Total Miles: 1741

For August, I gave myself the 15-Minute Challenge, where I would do some sort of extra exercise for 15 minutes every day.

I’m not going to lie. I stopped doing that after, like, a week and a half.

BUT I did increase my daily mileage by half a mile and I’m working myself up to the next level of resistance. SO THERE.

I’m sorry. No one was being hostile. I’m just overly defensive about personal failures.

Given my track record on these monthly challenges, I think I’ve pretty much proven that adding activity is not necessarily the way I should be going. It’s mostly a time thing. I’m already spending a bit of time on the elliptical, and it’s difficult to feel motivation to do a whole other thing, too. I’m sorry to disappoint you with my laziness.

Time for a new tactic. (See what I did there?)

@7slimmingsecrets is an Instagram recommended to me by my sister. They post fitness inspiration quotes (that sometimes make me feel good), recipes (that I don’t make), exercises (that I don’t typically do), befores-and-afters (that I automatically compare myself to), and whatnot. Every now and then, the account shares a challenge, like this one I saw yesterday while scrolling through.


Should I be worried that this isn’t on their page anymore? Probably not, right?

Of course, my first thought was, “Psh, there’s no way I would do that.”

Then I changed my mind. Perhaps it was fortuitous that I saw this on the last day of the month. It won’t be easy, but I’m gonna do it for these first three weeks of September. I can totally do three weeks…I think…maybe.

No candy.
Last week, I made the mistake of going to CVS when I was hungry. And because they keep all the candy by the registers, I could barely stop myself from adding three bags to purchase and eating them over the last week. I think I’m due for some time without it.

No cake.
I can’t think of any birthdays I’ll be celebrating for the next three weeks, so this shouldn’t be too terrible.

No chips.
I probably shouldn’t admit this in any type of public forum, but I’ve always been a big fan of Cheetos. I can sense that you’re already judging me, but those squiggles of edible Styrofoam covered in cheese dust are freaking delicious. As a matter of fact, there is an unopened bag of Baked Cheetos in the kitchen right now, calling to me. Luckily, it should keep for the next few weeks–actually, let’s be honest, it’ll totally keep longer than that for a lot of reasons.

No white bread.
It’s highly likely that I eat more white bread than I realize. This might not work out well for me.

No fast food.
It seems unpatriotic, somehow, to give up fast food for a while. This is America, after all–the land of golden arches, bells of tacos, and royal burgers. I hope I won’t be found guilty of treason.

Let’s also get one thing straight. I don’t count pizza as fast food. It frequently takes longer than 20 minutes, which is not fast at all when you’re hungry. You can get served in a real restaurant more quickly than that. I guess I’m just saying that I might hurt anyone who says that pizza is fast food. You can’t make me count it.

No chocolate.

No ice cream.
I had a farewell bowl last night. I think I’ll be okay.

Crap. I’m already craving those Baked Cheetos.

This is going to be even worse than I thought.

Mile 349.5: The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week


“When all you got to keep is strong,
Move along, move along, like I know you do.”
–All-American Rejects, “Move Along”

Miles Last Week: 46
Total Miles: 349.5

Last week was a bad week, and for a lot of reasons–except for Friday. Friday was good.

We don’t need to talk about most of the reasons that some people might have seen a slightly murder-y glint in my eye at times. We should, however, reflect on a couple of things:

I felt like I was dying every day at the gym.
There was pain. So much pain. And soooo much sweat. Even though I didn’t change any of my workout, my legs were on fire halfway through it. I didn’t want to sacrifice any miles, so I slowed my speed and upped the incline just to feel like I was doing something. I still felt like I was slogging through a tar pit–a tar pit on fire. Every day. I did make myself go the usual distance, but my legs were definitely not happy about it.

I ate terribly (well, slightly more terribly than usual).
There may have been a few too many snacks… and Reese’s peanut butter hearts… Goddammit, why are they so delicious? I might also still be eating emotionally due to the Sherlock finale. It was intense, guys.

I gained two pounds.
I know that people fluctuate and that it’s silly to dwell on a relatively small gain, but the most frustrating thing is that I knew before I weighed myself yesterday that I had put on a couple. I could feel it. Of course, I feel exactly the same after losing fifty pounds, but when I’m a little bigger, suddenly I’m like “WHAT IS GOING ON?”

I’ve had bad weeks throughout this project, but nothing quite like this so far. I don’t recall regaining that much weight in one week or having that much trouble on the elliptical since I started this thing last April. And to top it all off, I can’t honestly say that I’ve lost fifty pounds, anymore.

Much like Alexander, who had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day in Judith Viorst’s children’s book, I am just going to accept that everyone has bad days/weeks at some time or other and move on. Even if there are people who have perfect weeks all the time, I think I’ll just lie to myself about it. Sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with a little denial.

The good news is that there were no invisible, inflamed tar pits at the gym today–that I know of, anyway. We’ll see about tomorrow.

Mile 750: Ugh. Calorie Counting.


“And these flames boil in reclaim
On the way down.”
–Young the Giant, “12 Fingers”

Miles Last Week: 48
Total Miles: 750

Well, here we are. The halfway mark. Seven hundred and fifty miles down, seven hundred and fifty to go. So, why don’t I feel very satisfied or accomplished?

Because, as of today, I’ve only lost nine pounds.

Now, I know that losing nine pounds is nothing to thumb my nose at, but it’s not exactly great, either. After four months of working out, I think I should have a bit more to show for it–or a bit less, depending on how you see things. In six miles, I can easily burn at least one thousand calories if I believe what the machine tells me, which I do–robot apocalypse permitting. So, what’s the deal?

My only conclusion is that my eating habits are even worse than I originally thought. Apparently just trying to make healthier choices and having a bit more fruit isn’t going to be enough for this chickadee.

Ugh. As much as I hate it, this week I’ve had to force myself to reconcile with the idea that, no matter what I do, I’ll never be one of those people who can eat whatever they want, even if I’m burning a thousand calories per workout. Again I say UGH.

I’ve put off calorie counting for so long because I know myself well enough to realize that once there is a number out there, I’m going to obsess over it. It’s all I’m going to think about every time I eat something. It’s the same reason that I barely weigh myself once a week and I don’t measure myself. (Plus, and I’m loathe to admit this, but I might be just a little scared of what those numbers are.) I’m already obsessing over miles every week, and I didn’t want to worry about another number. I mean, it’s been a long time since I’ve taken a math class. I may nor may not be entirely certain how they work anymore.

So, I had a piece of pizza and a moment of silence as a small part of me hated those people who never have to worry about dieting. Then I downloaded the MyFitnessPal app.

For anyone who doesn’t have it, MyFitnessPal is online calorie counter/diet and exercise journal. Based on your current weight and activity level and your goals, the app will calculate the number of calories you should have per day. Then, you can either scan the barcode of your food, search for it in the database, or just add the number of calories every day into your journal. Plus, you can add the calories you burn while exercising. When you’re done for the day, the app tells you your projected weight loss for the next five weeks.

Not my food diary, but a good example. Source

Not my food diary, but a good example.

My new goal in using MyFitnessPal is to just be more conscious of what I’m eating. Call me crazy, but I still think I can get a handle on this “all things in moderation” thing.

In just the few days I’ve been using the app, I’ve been really surprised with how the projection will change from day to day. One day, it will say that I could lose twenty pounds in the next five weeks. The next day it will say that I might only lose ten. Of course, that has everything to do with what types of food I’m eating and whether I exercise. In fact, the only days I’ve had trouble staying under my calorie goal are the days that I haven’t been able to work out.

So, I suppose that the only way to really do this is to be conscious of both diet AND exercise. The experts have been right all along.

How much does that suck?

Mile 610: On Cravings


“Cause I know that you’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout it,
And I know you think you’re out of your mind.”
–Hanson, “Waiting for This”

Miles Last Week: 47.25
Total Miles: 610

You don’t have to be pregnant to have cravings. I think we all suffer from them–be we with child or not.

Example #1: All morning at work I just wanted to eat something warm and gooey and cheesy. Doesn’t that sound delicious? In my lunch, however, I packed a PB&J, apples, grapes, and a yogurt. Not warm, not gooey, and not cheesy–but still all right, I guess. If you’re into that sort of thing. Which I usually am.

Example #2: The only thing I’ve given up in my daily diet is pop (or soda or Coke or whatever the regional colloquialism is in your region). I’ve totally sworn off carbonated beverages. Usually I’m just fine with my flavored water, but some days—BAM–it just hits me. I feel like I NEED to have a Dr Pepper or an A&W Cream Soda or a Mountain Dew or whatever.

We all know the feeling, preggo or not preggo. We’ve all had that moment when “Hmmm, that sounds really good” changes to “OH MY GOSH IF I DON’T HAVE A CHEESEBURGER RIGHT NOW I’M GOING TO EXPLODE.”

Diets suck, friends. That’s why I’m trying to be an All Things in Moderation type of gal. I worry that if I cut a bunch of things out, the chances that I will just binge on the forbidden fruit later will skyrocket.

So, what’s a girl to do when that urge for a big, giant pizza with extra cheese, washed down with a orange soda, hits you like a mack truck?

I do the normal thing. I shove that urge down as far as I possibly can and go about my business. Basically, I’m treating myself like a three-year-old. Oh, you want that thing? Look at this other thing instead! Sure, it’s not as great as that first thing, but it’s shiny!

What can I say? I was raised Catholic. Repression is an art.

Here’s to hoping that this particular type of repression won’t be as psychologically damaging as other types of repression. If anyone has any tips, though, feel free to share. I’m really trying to avoid any diet-related mental trauma.