Week 19: Wining, dining and a blast from the past

Total weight lost: 16 lbs

I’ve been in Washington for just over a week now, and I’m pleased to say that all heck did not break loose just because I am on vacation.  Yes, I’ve been enjoying the occasional BBQ, the frequent meal out, and I’ve raided the goodie cupboard more times than I would like to admit, but happily the scale has not shown any ill effects from my choices thus far.

I spent the first part of this week cleaning out my childhood room.  It’s a task I’ve been meaning to accomplish for ages, and I figured what better time than when I’ll be staying in the room next door for an entire month.  I found a lot of treasures and a lot of junk.  I discovered my pre-historic gameboy in like-new condition, safely nestled in its uber-cool fanny pack case (Yes, I tried it on.  And yes, I took a picture).  I found my first camera, ‘le click,’ with a half-used roll of film in it, which I intend to complete and have developed.  I re-read a diary entitled, “My Darkest Secrets,” where the first thing I wrote was, “I got a 3.95 GPA last quarter.”  I kid you not.  My GPA was apparently my darkest secret, followed by:  “There is a boy at school that I think I like” and “Today we started PE at school”.

Back when overalls were cool...ish

I also finally got rid of a lot of the clothes I had stashed away and forgotten about.  I tried on my old prom dresses (they fit!), and I made myself give away my last remaining pair of overalls.  I know they’ve been out of style since the 90s, but they are just so darn comfortable.  I thought about keeping them for old time’s sake, but I knew the temptation would be too great.  Sure, I may start by limiting myself to donning them strictly as lounge-wear, but it would only be a matter of time before they would make their way back into my wardrobe full time.  I just can’t risk another embarrassing raid by the fashion police.

In other news, last night I had the pleasure of hanging out in Seattle with a couple of good friends.  I had forgotten how much I love the city:  the view of the water and the space needle from I-5, the ‘rain’ that never really gets you very wet but can wreak havoc on carefully curled hair, the place where the famous pink toe truck used to reside.  And now, I can add a new item to my long list of things I love about Seattle:  El Gaucho. 

It’s supposedly a very well known steakhouse, though I had never heard of it until last night.  I have it on good authority that Bill Gates takes his guests there (which may explain why I have not heard of it—Bill and I run with slightly different crowds).  Anyway, as we approached the restaurant, I saw a man standing outside the door behind a podium, just like they do at fancy clubs in the movies.  I assumed his purpose was to kindly decline admittance to those who were not cool enough to enter, and I had a fleeting moment of panic (perhaps brought on by my recent trip down memory lane) that he wasn’t going to open the door.  Fortunately, I had left my overalls at home, and he just politely held the door as we all trooped in.

The flaming Bananas Foster

The inside was amazing: black-leather covered doors led to a dining room and bar that epitomized ‘classy’.  Elegant black booths sat empty but beautifully set, and the pristine bar was stocked with bottles of what I can only assume were the most expensive liquors.  We were not there for the alcohol (though the cocktails were exceptional).  We were there for dessert.

The waitresses (yes, we had more than one), brought us menus and placed our napkins on our laps.  I ordered the Chocolate Bourbon cake, while my partners in crime requested a house specialty, Bananas Foster.  Both were indescribably delicious.  Yes, I shared my chocolate cake like the polite girl that I am.  Well, I shared two bites.  After that, I was perfectly content to finish off every last candied pecan all by myself.  It was the kind of dessert that’s worth falling off the diet wagon for.  Heck, I’d take a running jump off the diet wagon for that particular cake.  And that’s not all.  At El Gaucho, I was even escorted to the ladies’ room by one of the well-dressed waiters.  Oddly awesome, right?

Here’s to being back in the Pacific Northwest, if only for a month.  I’ve missed it!

Week 18: 20 is the new 30...

The only time it wasn't my fault...

Total Weight Lost: 14 lbs

I’d like to say that the three weeks without my scale were liberating and successful:  I rediscovered my love for fruits, vegetables, and portion control.  I forged a healthy relationship with myself that had nothing to do with a number.  I slipped easily into my ridiculously small jeans.  But that would be a big fat lie.  I’d also like to say that it wasn’t my fault.  I was stressed.  I was tired.  I was too busy, too bored.  But that would also be a big fat lie.  Because the truth is, the only time anybody has put cake in my mouth for me was at my wedding. 

So here is what really happened over the last three weeks.  I did feel a bit liberated without the constant reminder of what effect my dietary choices had on my weight.  On previous Fridays, I would be careful of what I ate because I knew my weigh in was the following day.  But without that annoying detail hanging over me, I felt free to eat all the salt I wanted with my chicken strips and fries.

I figured if my weight got out of hand, I’d notice because my clothes would be tighter.  Seems like a sound theory, right?  There was just one fatal flaw:  you may remember that I wear a lot of elastic pajama pants.  And now that it’s summer, a lot of dresses.  It’s amazing how stretchy cotton can be.  Looking back, I imagine I could have gained about 10 pounds before noticing much of a difference in the way my clothes fit.  It was nothing short of a miracle that I only gained one.

That brings my total weight loss to 14 pounds, which leaves me 16 pounds to go in my last seven weeks, if I want to meet by goal.  And that’s the million dollar question:  do I want to meet my goal?  Sure, it would be great to see what I look like at a BMI of 22, but honestly, I think that weight will not be sustainable for me.  After all, I haven’t weighed that little since my sophomore year of high school.  And I didn’t even have hips yet then.

I’m not giving up on my goal; I intend to keep going with weight watchers and see where my body wants to be.  But I don’t intend to start starving myself or exercising 2 hours a day just to get to that point by my 30th birthday.  Especially since I’ll be on vacation for four of my seven remaining weeks.  I don’t know about you all, but I usually don’t come back from vacation weighing less than I did when I left.

I think my new goal by my 30th is to be down twenty pounds.  I like this new goal for a couple of reasons.  For one, I will be at the weight I was when Allison turned one.  And though I could see all kinds of flaws at the time, I look back at the pictures and think:  Holy schmoly I looked GOOD!  Hindsight is 20/20, and in my case a bit conceited.

The other reason I like the new twenty pound goal?  It’s what my doctor suggested.  When he told me I should only expect to lose a couple of pounds a month, I was a bit disappointed.  And skeptical.  I thought surely I’d be able to lose a bit more than that.  But maybe he knew what he was talking about.  Maybe.  He does have a degree in medicine after all.

So here’s to “Twenty by Thirty.”  Am I copping out by making my goal easier?  Maybe.  But I’ll still be twenty pounds lighter.  My BMI will be well within the normal limits.  I’ll still have done my body a favor by watching what I eat and exercising daily.  And maybe I’ll look back at pictures of my 30th birthday and think, “Holy schmoly I looked good!”.