Week 4: Doctors and swimming lessons

Total Weight Lost:  7 lbs

I finally made it to the doctor this week for my phsyical.  I arrived at the office about twenty minutes late with Nicole in tow (Allie stayed at a friend’s house).  The receptionist was quite understanding about my inability to get there on time; she just took my insurance card and asked me to have a seat.  It was then that I had a chance to look around and note that I was younger than every patient in the waiting room by a good 40 or 50 years.  Had I stumbled upon a geriatric physician by mistake and nobody told me?  Did I look geriatric and that is why nobody seemed surprised to see me?  I shrugged, figuring a doctor is a doctor, and smiled politely while the other patients cooed at my darling baby girl and asked how old HE was (I swear she was wearing pink!).

For being so late, they actually called me back pretty promptly.  I was greeted by a very nice nurse named Rachel, who instantly won me over by telling me how cute my baby girl was.  She asked me to step on the scale, which I did (after removing my shoes, coat, cell phone, keys, and hair tie--you can’t be too careful when it comes to scales).  I was pleased the scale was unable to measure my height, which allowed me to lie, as usual, and claim to be 5’3’’.

Rachel then led me to an exam room where she took my pulse and my blood pressure.  She perched herself on a stool with my chart and a pen and continued to take my health history.  “Are you taking any medications?”
    “No.”
“Do you have any medical conditions?”
    “Nope.”
“Any surgeries we should know about?”
    “No.”
“C-sections?”
    “No.”
“Any hospitalizations?”
    “None.”
“Hmmm...any allergies?” she asked hopefully.  I shook my head.  Rachel put her pen down and looked up at me.  “Why exactly are you here?”
I explained that I was embarking on a new health and fitness routine, and I wanted to get an idea of how my health was right now so I could accurately assess my improvement.  Rachel nodded and said the doctor would be in momentarily, which miraculously, he was.

To his credit, Dr. Gill never told me I needed to lose weight.  I’m not sure if it was because I was already addressing the situation or if there is some unwritten rule that doctors are not to mention weight to a mother of a child less than two years of age in the event they will receive an unending tearful diatribe about how the baby never sleeps or stops crying unless it’s in the car going at least 30 mph and if it weren’t for coca cola and the drive-thru nobody would ever have any peace.  It could also be because most of his patients are over 80, and having a little extra weight at that age in case of emergency is advised.
   
Anyway, Dr. Gill listened to my heart, my lungs, and a brief explanation of my plan.  He thought the added exercise was a great idea and said that my initial rate of weight loss would eventually taper off to about 2 to 3 pounds a month.  (This does not sound like much to me, but I’ll take what I can get.)  Dr. Gill then handed me an order for lab work to check my cholesterol, triglycerides, glucose, etc., and said he’d see me in six months.

I had my lab work done on Thursday, and by Friday the office called and said that all of my numbers were perfect.  Which is great news, because now that the ‘getting healthy’ part of my plan is taken care of I can just focus on fitting into my ‘skinny’ jeans.  Kidding, kidding.  I will continue to strive for better health.  In particular, I’ll do some research on how to raise my HDL (healthy) cholesterol.  Mine was at 40, and it should be at least 39, so there is definitely room for improvement there.

In other news, Allie had her first swim lesson on Monday.  (I know this blog is supposed to be about my health and fitness efforts, but I figure my daughter’s fitness efforts are somewhat relevant and marginally more entertaining than my own.)  Allie has been excited about swimming lessons for two months (ever since I took her to sign up and check out the pool).  She could hardly contain herself when I told her quiet time was over and it was time to get ready for her first session. 

She was dressed in her swimsuit in record time, and she had already thrown a towel, two pairs of underwear, a sock, and her nightgown into her swimming bag by the time I changed Nicole’s diaper.  “Honka, honka!” yelled Allie.  “Honka” is a made up word that I have heard used to mean everything from “yes” or “no” to “Mummy dear, I am all packed and ready to go to my first swimming lesson” which is what it seemed to mean in this case.  I told her we could go as soon as I fed  Nicole.

While Nicole ate, I could hear Allison running back and forth on our front porch screaming, “honka honka HONK-AAAAAHHHH”  I sent happy, calming thoughts to the poor soul that would soon be instructing multiple over -eager three year olds in water safety before I handed Nicole to Chris and got Allie in her carseat.

When we arrived at the pool, we found Allie’s best friend, Evelyn, with her mom, Carrie, already waiting.  Allie and Evelyn stomped their feet, giggled and hopped up and down while Carrie and I discussed the safeness of our beloved three year olds entering a pool without us.  Before we knew it, the pool coordinator came out to introduce the swimming instructors.  The pre-school class instructor was Nick, who looked to be about 14 years old.  He smiled nervously and took a step back as five three year olds with no respect for personal space crowded around his knees.  Carrie and I exchanged a look.  Oh dear.  They were going to eat him alive.

But Nick finally gained some control and the kids followed him through the door and into the pool like little ducklings.  I felt so proud (and maybe just a little sad) as Allie fearlessly followed her new leader without even checking to see if I was watching.  The kids walked down the steps into the 2’8’’ wading pool, and Nick had them all lined up in no time.  By this point, we could not hear anything that was going on because the parents all wait behind a giant glass window during lessons (probably to keep crazies like me from yelling things like “are you sure you are watching my child properly?!?  She can’t swim you know!!!”).

I watched as Allie blew bubbles, splashed, kicked her feet, splashed, back floated, splashed, and splashed some more.  I couldn’t be sure from my vantage point, but I guessed that most of the splashing was not instructor sanctioned.  At any rate, the kids all survived the 40 minute lesson and followed Nick back out to their parents.  I wrapped Allie in her towel and asked her if she had fun.  She shook her head sadly and said, “Well, he didn’t even let me jump in.”  By the time I had her dressed and ready to leave she was much more enthusiastic.  Her favorite part was floating on her back, and she can’t wait to go again.  Success!

Before I sign off for the week, I want to mention a few links some of you have shared with me:

www.livestrong.com (You can create a free account and use it to track the calories from everything you eat)

www.ohsheglows.com (Vegan recipes--I haven’t tried to make any yet, but there are some much-better-for-you desserts that look delicious)

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/10/god-of-cake.html (A hilarious entry about a girl who loves cake--if you like cake or things that are funny, you will laugh out loud)

Week 3: Goodbye, scale. Hello again, elastic pants.

Total Weight Lost:  7 lbs

I expected this week to be challenging for two reasons.  One, we had company.  And company is as good an excuse as any to go out to eat, have dessert every night, and buy all the snack foods I don’t normally allow in the house in the name of hospitality.  I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to stay on plan even with guests.  Of course, it helped that one of our guests was pregnant and following a very strict diet (which is weird for me, because my plan during pregnancy was more like “eat everything in site, and if you don’t see food, go buy more”).  Anyway, between our guests’ healthy eating habits and Nicole’s rigorous nap schedule (which doesn’t allow much time for eating out), I did okay with avoiding the usual gain that comes with out of town visitors.

The second thing that I thought might be a challenge was our anniversary on Friday.  Now that I’ve found my soul mate, I have little use for the evolutionary desire to attract a mate.  I like to celebrate that fact by getting dressed up and going out for appetizers, dinner, drinks and dessert.  We had the babysitter lined up and everything, but Nicole and I both woke up with colds Friday morning, and we had to cancel.  Instead of my much anticipated four course smorgasbord, I ended up cooking a healthy meal at home.  Not much of a celebration of five years of marriage in my mind, but it was certainly nicer on the scale the next morning.

Now I’m down seven pounds, and I keep thinking I should be seeing some changes in the way my clothes fit.  I was puzzled momentarily until I looked down and noted my daily uniform of a tee shirt and elastic waist pants.  Not just any elastic waist pants, but the ones I wore during the last months of my pregnancy.  It turns out that your weight has to change A LOT before elastic pants will fit incorrectly.  It’s one of their finer qualities.  In order to more accurately check for improvement, I pulled out my tub of pre-pregnancy clothes and found my favorite pair of jeans.  I’m not going to lie, putting them on probably counted as my daily cardio, but I did get them buttoned and zipped.  They even looked decent if you didn’t look above the waist band where all the extra stomach that didn’t fit in the pants was hanging out.  I only left them on for about ten seconds because A.  They were wildly uncomfortable and B. I was afraid I was going to pop the button off of my favorite pair of jeans, but at least I have an idea of where I’m at now.

I’m happy with the way things are going, so my only added goal for this week is to give up my obsession with the scale.  As some of you have pointed out, one should not weigh oneself everyday while trying to lose weight.  I expect that means one REALLY shouldn’t weigh oneself several times a day and a couple of times at night after getting up with the baby.  In an effort to decrease my weigh-ins to once a week, I’ve shoved the scale into the back of the cabinet under the sink in our bathroom.  It’s not completely inaccessible, but I’m hoping I’ll at least be too lazy to drag it out multiple times a day.  And that, my friends, is progress.

Week 2: Chocolate Cake and Wedding Rings

Total Weight Lost: 4 lbs
Total Waist Lost:  1.25 inches

I knew when I signed up for this that it was unlikely that I would lose weight every single week for six months.  I figured there would be at least a couple of weeks where I’d maintain or maybe even gain a bit.  What I didn’t know is that I would have one of those weeks so close to the beginning of the six months.  As in week two.  That’s right, I somehow managed to gain a pound since my last weigh in.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that this week got off to a bit of a rocky start.  In fact, it started with buttery crab cakes, potatoes slathered in olive oil, and two big slices of buttery french bread.  Oh, and a piece of Mom’s famous chocolate cake that I baked to contribute to the lunch our good friends invited us too.  Makes your mouth water just thinking about it, right?  And even though that one lunch caused a two pound lurch in the scale the following morning, I don’t regret it.

Regardless of my mantra, “it’s just for six months,” I really want this to be a life-long change.  And there is no way that I will be forgoing chocolate cake for the next 70 years (I intend to live until I’m at least one hundred, but I’ll eat whatever I please when I’m a centenarian).  The challenge will be in making chocolate cake and other such treats the exception rather than the norm.  I think I’ll need a better plan for the left-overs next time.  Chocolate cake (and chocolate anything for that matter) has a very short lifetime in my kitchen, but a long lifetime on my hips.

At this point you may be shaking your head with a knowing smile thinking, “Umm...I believe I know what caused your weight gain this week.”  But not so fast, cowboy.  Despite my less than nutritious choices at the beginning of the week, I was still well within the confines of my WeightWatchers plan (I track all my foods with WeightWatchers online).  So what happened?

My first theory is that it doesn’t really matter what I eat; I’m destined to be the weight I am now, and I might as well eat whatever I want.  It was this thread of logic that led me to the McDonald's drive-thru.  But as I drove home, munching on those deliciously fattening chicken mcnuggets and a side of fries, I decided I wasn’t quite ready to throw in the proverbial towel.  I’ll chalk this week’s unexpected outcome up to ‘one of those things’ and move on to bigger and better things. 

Like me losing over an inch from my waist in two weeks!  An inch may not sound like much, but that is about the equivalent of a pant size.  Of course, I happen to have a build identical to that of a Bartlett pear, so it probably did not mean a pant size for me, but  I’m pleased none-the-less. 

And it gets better...my wedding ring fits.  (By ‘fits’ I mean that I can get it on and take it off without the aid of warm soapy water and/or butter--it still looks a bit like a rubber-band around a sausage when I put it on.)  But that is progress.  I haven’t been able to wear my ring since last June when I was six months pregnant with Nicole and we moved to Maryland, land of the hot and humid.

My plan for next week is to just keep on keeping on: meaning sticking to my weight watchers points allowance, choosing healthy foods when I can, and exercising five days a week.  If things continue to go poorly, I’ll quit.  Just kidding... ;)

Week 1: 5 lbs down, 25 lbs to go!

Well, week one is officially over.  I have to admit, the first three days were the hardest by far.  All I could think about were the things I wasn’t allowed to eat and drink.  I kept looking in the mirror and getting on the scale several times a day in the hopes that my effort was paying off--as if eating right and exercising for just one or two days would suddenly bring about major change.  Delusional, I know, but lack of caffeine can make you do funny things.  I was so cranky without my daily dose that I snapped at anybody who spoke above a whisper and glared at certain members of my family who had the gall to drink caffeinated beverages in front of me.

It even occurred to me to run to the store with the sole purpose of buying a coke, and I may have done it if it weren’t for the support of my two loving daughters.  Support is probably not quite the right word--let me explain.  Before children, if I wanted to get a coke from the store I would simply grab my wallet and my keys and leave.  Now, if I want to get something from the store I must first wait for Nicole to wake up from her nap.  Then I need to change her diaper,  feed her and find something for her to do while I chase Allison with her pants, shirt, socks and shoes (she is a bit of a pj junky, so no matter the hour she is indubitably lounging in footie pajamas or her Tinkerbell nightgown).  I then spend a good fifteen minutes threatening to leave Allie behind if she does not put on her clothes.  When that doesn’t work, I strap Nicole into her car-seat and pretend to leave, so that Allison will come running down the stairs saying she’s ready to cooperate.  After I’ve coaxed her into clothing, I tell her she needs to go potty before we leave.   She smiles politely and says “no, thank-you.”  I insist that she ‘just try,’ and she finally does, but then she needs a potty treat and a snack for the road, and all the while Nicole is screaming at the injustice of having been put in her seat thirty minutes before we actually leave.  And we haven’t even made it to the car yet.  I could go on, but I think you see my point.  Because of my kids, resisting tempting treats is not much of an issue.   If the foods and drinks aren’t at my house, I definitely won’t partake in them. 

This means that the most challenging part of my new lifestyle was my weekly trip to the grocery store.  One evening a week, Chris tries to get home early enough for me to go to the store sans children.  I don’t think it quite qualifies as ‘mom’s night out’, but it definitely gives me some down time to relax and be on my own.  Last week I was so relaxed that I was caught completely off guard when I walked into the store and my senses were accosted with donuts, freshly baked white breads, cookies and cupcakes.  I’m sure there must have been some fresh produce and a couple cans of vegetables and beans somewhere in those aisles, but I only had eyes for the refined sugars and flours.  I’m still not quite sure how I made it out of there with just the items on my list (okay, and an impulse package of beef jerky). 

If I had a penny for every time I thought, “it’s just for six months!” during the first three days of my program, I’d probably have enough money for a personal trainer and a chef.  Unfortunately, when they said, “a penny for your thoughts,” they didn’t mean my thoughts.  The closest thing I had to a personal trainer was Allison coming in every five minutes while I was walking on the treadmill and asking if I was done yet.  “This is taking so long,” she whined.  Inspiring, eh?  I did try a couple of new recipes this week, including an Asian Glazed Salmon which I thought was delicious, Allison thought was gross, and that Chris said wasn’t too bad (he’s not a fan of seafood).  We also imitated mongolian grill stir-fry that was better received by my entire family.

I am happy to report that by the second half of the week, things got a lot easier.  I don’t crave sugary foods as often, and it is getting easier to eat only when I’m hungry, not when I think it sounds fun to watch an episode of Friday Night Lights with a coke and a handful of animal crackers.  I don’t feel like I have any more energy than before, and I may even be more tired.  But it’s probably not fair to blame that on lack of caffeine and sugar--Allie and Nicole have been getting up several times at night to see me.  It makes me feel loved that they miss me so much, but mostly, it just makes me feel sleep deprived.  My clothes don’t feel any looser yet, but they definitely aren’t any tighter.  I see pants with a button in my future--maybe even pre-pregnancy jeans!  But let’s not get too carried away--I’ll see if I can make it through week 2 first.