In the spirit of the Olympics, which frankly I am adicted to, we are going international. I like watching sports where the athletes have to consume massive amounts of calories a day just to stay in training. Like cross country skiing. 12,000 calories a day. Seriously. I need a job like that. "The Swiss are looking strong, time for another doughnut, get some more ski time." I think I could handle that. Eat, ski, eat, ski, ski, ski, eat, sleep. OK, I might not be competitive, or even very good. But I think I could eat like I was. Oh, wait, I already did that.
Anyway, I read something the other day that vaguely has something to do with international eating, but admitedly nothing to do with the Olympics. This study compared the way French women and American women eat. I, for one, would love to know how they manage to eat all those creamy sauces and delicious pastries and still look fashionably slender. I know that if I ran into a French woman on the street she would think I was fat and I would think she was a bitch and we would probably both be right. Still, there must be something she could teach me. Just like there are things I could teach her. Like Jerry Lewis isn't really that funny and horizontal sailor stripes do not, in fact, look good on everyone.
The study started out with the two groups of women being given identical, but massive, amounts of food. Each group was told that they could eat as much as they wanted to. To eat until they were "satisfied". Not surprisingly, the American women ate way more than the French.
The reason - surprisingly simple. When asked how each woman judged whether or not they were satisfied the American women responded that they ate until they were "full". The French women responded that they ate until they "weren't hungry anymore".
Not hungry anymore? Are you kidding me? It's really that simple? Well, it must be because Dior doesn't make stretch pants.
So the trick is being able to know when you're not hungry anymore. It's easy to know when you're full. God knows I've felt that belt-loosening, lethargy set in often enough after a big meal. It's America after all. If something is tasty, well, then Super-Size it. And we've all been taught to clean our plates. And how often have we made fun of the devastatingly small portions of French cuisine? Who knew?
I know it's easier said than done, like most things in life. But I'm all for a plan that allows me to eat anything I want. Eat away - just stop when you're not hungry anymore. Hmmm. I don't know how well it'll go, but I'm going to give it a whirl. For the next week I'm going to revel in food. I'm going ot cook my favorite dishes. Even dessert. I'm going to eat whatever I want, deny myself nothing, stopping when I am not hungry anymore. It's a risky little game, but I'm up for the challenge.
It's definately weird to be trying to lose weight and talking about eating what I want. Sort of like being concerned with fuel efficiency and buying an SUV. But, as I've said before I'm not interested in a "diet" so much as a new lifestyle. I have had success so far, but I'm always interested in aomething new. Especially as it pertains to eating more sweets.
Now wax up the skis and snap on your ski boots. There's been a lot of snow of late here in the hills of Eastern Kentucky and I've got to work up a hunger. I can totally do it.
Showing posts with label healthy eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healthy eating. Show all posts
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Perils of Gambling
I don't know exactly what I was thinking. My luck has never been what anyone would call good, especially when it comes to predicted outcomes. So why I thought it would be a good idea to go to Keenland Racetrack last weekend to play the ponies with my best girl friends - I don't know.
Now before I go any further let me state, without a doubt, that we had a really great day. The weather not only held, but actually turned out to be pretty darn good. We all looked smokin' hot, if I do say so myself. And, more importantly, we had escaped our everyday lives, if only for a day, to celebrate the impending end to one of our good friend's bachelorette days.
The trouble started at the first race. Being a native Kentuckian, I am somewhat familiar with the horse racing industry. I know what the odds are, what exactly a furlong is, the difference between fillies and mares, and I even half-assedly follow a couple of different jockeys. And I could even tell you what it means to win, place, or show and what it means when they list super-fecta, tri-fecta, and exacta winnings. So you would think that I could look at a betting sheet and over the course of 10 races at least manage to come out even, give or take a few bucks. You would be wrong.
Every horse I picked came in dead last. Seriously. One race I picked two different horses, thinking to increase my odds. They came in last and next to last.
The first race I bet $5 on Call It The Blues to win place or show. Led the race for almost a mile then dropped to dead last like he was doing it on purpose. Race 2, I bet on Hot Little Mama because, I mean come on. The name says it all. Repeat of last race. At this point I have lost a small amount of money, but I'm not worried. It's only the third race. My luck's bound to pick up, right? So I bet on Sweet Lemon Chello. This time, she doesn't even make a showing. Starts last and ends last. All right, this is about enough. So I decide to set out race four and just reset my luck a little. I just set back, watching all my friends rake it in. WTF? But, I don't begrudge them any of it ( really, I don't) I just want a little bit of the taste of victory for myself.
So next up comes race 5. Here's where I start to employ a little strategy - so to speak. I look at the odds and carefully choose two horses who appear not to suck too much. Everybody knows that you never bet on a favorite, even if they win, the odds were so good that you almost never win any money. So I put down another $5 on an Irish horse with decent 8-1 odds, that should pay out pretty decent and $5 on a 20-1 horse that had bad odds, true, but was being ridden by a jockey with a better than average track record. This was the infamous last, next to last finish. Meanwhile, my friend (The Bride, BTW) bets $20 on Lucky #7 because, get this, she left her program laying open on the bench while she went to the powder room and a bird came along and, shall we say -picked, it for her. She won. The odds for that particular horse were 5-2, so she didn't win whole lot, but still. I mean, really. People who find bird poop on their programs are now considered to be luckier than me?
At this point I did what any sane Kentuckian would do. I started drinking. Piss on them ponies. If I'm going to throw my money away, I ought to at least enjoy it, right? So I proceed to the Equestrian Bar, a Keenland tradition, where I proceed to consume no less than six (yes - really) Bourbon Manhattans. Say what you will about Kentucky, but the liquor sure is fine and in Lexington my drink was done up right. A whole lot of Bourbon (Woodford Reserve, for those keeping score) and very little Manhattan (sweet vermouth).
The next five races were enjoyable if unprofitable and all in all I had one of the best days out with the girls that we've managed to have in a while.
The moral of this story is this. Don't gamble unless your prepared to lose. And don't prepare to lose with out preparing to drink.
p.s. I didn't totally blow my diet. I had no lunch and I walked off my drink with a nearly mile and a half walk tot he car, followed by a 30 minute drive to the restaurant where I had grilled salmon and broccoli and vast quantities of water. Not the best day nutritionally but, hey. Life happens, you know?
Now before I go any further let me state, without a doubt, that we had a really great day. The weather not only held, but actually turned out to be pretty darn good. We all looked smokin' hot, if I do say so myself. And, more importantly, we had escaped our everyday lives, if only for a day, to celebrate the impending end to one of our good friend's bachelorette days.
The trouble started at the first race. Being a native Kentuckian, I am somewhat familiar with the horse racing industry. I know what the odds are, what exactly a furlong is, the difference between fillies and mares, and I even half-assedly follow a couple of different jockeys. And I could even tell you what it means to win, place, or show and what it means when they list super-fecta, tri-fecta, and exacta winnings. So you would think that I could look at a betting sheet and over the course of 10 races at least manage to come out even, give or take a few bucks. You would be wrong.
Every horse I picked came in dead last. Seriously. One race I picked two different horses, thinking to increase my odds. They came in last and next to last.
The first race I bet $5 on Call It The Blues to win place or show. Led the race for almost a mile then dropped to dead last like he was doing it on purpose. Race 2, I bet on Hot Little Mama because, I mean come on. The name says it all. Repeat of last race. At this point I have lost a small amount of money, but I'm not worried. It's only the third race. My luck's bound to pick up, right? So I bet on Sweet Lemon Chello. This time, she doesn't even make a showing. Starts last and ends last. All right, this is about enough. So I decide to set out race four and just reset my luck a little. I just set back, watching all my friends rake it in. WTF? But, I don't begrudge them any of it ( really, I don't) I just want a little bit of the taste of victory for myself.
So next up comes race 5. Here's where I start to employ a little strategy - so to speak. I look at the odds and carefully choose two horses who appear not to suck too much. Everybody knows that you never bet on a favorite, even if they win, the odds were so good that you almost never win any money. So I put down another $5 on an Irish horse with decent 8-1 odds, that should pay out pretty decent and $5 on a 20-1 horse that had bad odds, true, but was being ridden by a jockey with a better than average track record. This was the infamous last, next to last finish. Meanwhile, my friend (The Bride, BTW) bets $20 on Lucky #7 because, get this, she left her program laying open on the bench while she went to the powder room and a bird came along and, shall we say -picked, it for her. She won. The odds for that particular horse were 5-2, so she didn't win whole lot, but still. I mean, really. People who find bird poop on their programs are now considered to be luckier than me?
At this point I did what any sane Kentuckian would do. I started drinking. Piss on them ponies. If I'm going to throw my money away, I ought to at least enjoy it, right? So I proceed to the Equestrian Bar, a Keenland tradition, where I proceed to consume no less than six (yes - really) Bourbon Manhattans. Say what you will about Kentucky, but the liquor sure is fine and in Lexington my drink was done up right. A whole lot of Bourbon (Woodford Reserve, for those keeping score) and very little Manhattan (sweet vermouth).
The next five races were enjoyable if unprofitable and all in all I had one of the best days out with the girls that we've managed to have in a while.
The moral of this story is this. Don't gamble unless your prepared to lose. And don't prepare to lose with out preparing to drink.
p.s. I didn't totally blow my diet. I had no lunch and I walked off my drink with a nearly mile and a half walk tot he car, followed by a 30 minute drive to the restaurant where I had grilled salmon and broccoli and vast quantities of water. Not the best day nutritionally but, hey. Life happens, you know?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Oh, For Shame!
Had a relatively busy morning this morning culminating in a run-by trip to the Wal-Mart. Which as you know, you can never quite just run in and get anything at the Wal-Mart. It always turns into an hour long "Oh yeah, and I need to pick up . . . " trip and a big fat chunk out of my checking account. And yes, I always refer to it as 'The Wal-Mart'. I know it's hick as hell, but I do so hate that place. I hate it more because I need it. I know that they are socially corrupt and I really shouldn't patron 'The Wal-Mart' but when you live in super small town Eastern Kentucky like I do, sometimes you just have no choice. I would love to fight the power, so to speak. But I can't, I'm just too hungry.
Which brings me back to my original point. I finished up my shopping and pulled my semi-cart into the lane. Sadly not the express lane. Only at 'The Wal-Mart' would they recognize the futility of anyone getting out of there with less than 20 items. I think it's only a myth. But I digress. Again.
So I'm in line. And I'm feeling kind of hungry. I get my usual Diet Mt. Dew, which I know is still horrible for me, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made. But I'm still thinking I'm hungry. Danger! Danger, Will Robinson! But do I listen? Do I make the smart choice and head to the conveniently connected SubWay for a Jared approved healthy lunch? Nooooo, I do not.
I grab . . . (wait for it) . . . the Combos.
That most hateful of all junk foods. Oh, I am helpless to resist them. Which is, I suspect why they are located right next to the Slim Jims and National Enquirer. There must be so many out there like me. But even then, I don't realize that I am making a poor decision. It is only later when I am halfway down the road and almost all the way through the bag, that I realize what a truly stupid stupid thing I have done.
True, it does not rate up there with the buffalo chicken wing-fest I had the day after New Years. Or even the fine German restaurant located temptingly close to my brother's new house. On the everyday bone-head move scale though, it certainly rates right up there.
I indulged in about an hours worth of self-loathing, before I realized what a slippery slope that was and snapped out of it. I will just have to do better next time. I will have to make smarter choices for the rest of the week. Hummus and baked pita chips are just as delicious as Combos. They are. They really are, I swear.
I will chalk it up to just one more reason why I should avoid 'The Wal-Mart'. Along with the ridiculously low priced cheesy poufs and the lure of the take and bake pizza. I will just have to burn a little extra gas and haul my ass to the nearest Target, where I know there will still be Combos, but at least I will already be feeling a little more socially responsible. It is easy to avoid the cheesy pretzel goodness when I am not already hovering a Pig Pen like cloud of shame.
Which brings me back to my original point. I finished up my shopping and pulled my semi-cart into the lane. Sadly not the express lane. Only at 'The Wal-Mart' would they recognize the futility of anyone getting out of there with less than 20 items. I think it's only a myth. But I digress. Again.
So I'm in line. And I'm feeling kind of hungry. I get my usual Diet Mt. Dew, which I know is still horrible for me, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made. But I'm still thinking I'm hungry. Danger! Danger, Will Robinson! But do I listen? Do I make the smart choice and head to the conveniently connected SubWay for a Jared approved healthy lunch? Nooooo, I do not.
I grab . . . (wait for it) . . . the Combos.
That most hateful of all junk foods. Oh, I am helpless to resist them. Which is, I suspect why they are located right next to the Slim Jims and National Enquirer. There must be so many out there like me. But even then, I don't realize that I am making a poor decision. It is only later when I am halfway down the road and almost all the way through the bag, that I realize what a truly stupid stupid thing I have done.
True, it does not rate up there with the buffalo chicken wing-fest I had the day after New Years. Or even the fine German restaurant located temptingly close to my brother's new house. On the everyday bone-head move scale though, it certainly rates right up there.
I indulged in about an hours worth of self-loathing, before I realized what a slippery slope that was and snapped out of it. I will just have to do better next time. I will have to make smarter choices for the rest of the week. Hummus and baked pita chips are just as delicious as Combos. They are. They really are, I swear.
I will chalk it up to just one more reason why I should avoid 'The Wal-Mart'. Along with the ridiculously low priced cheesy poufs and the lure of the take and bake pizza. I will just have to burn a little extra gas and haul my ass to the nearest Target, where I know there will still be Combos, but at least I will already be feeling a little more socially responsible. It is easy to avoid the cheesy pretzel goodness when I am not already hovering a Pig Pen like cloud of shame.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Why the KY State Fair Hates Me and Wants Me to Fail.
I just spent 24 eye-opening hours at the KY State Fair, a fairly decent state fair - to be sure. I have managed to make it almost 30yrs (4 of which I was a dedicated FFA member) and have never had to attend the state fair. Just to be clear - I hate a fair. I am one of those crabby, hateful people who hates a fair, circus, or parade, or any other gathering of "the public" in which there is merriment and joy. I would be relatively happy being a hermit, I am sure.
There was only one thing that could cause me to overlook all this bourgeois crap. It was a concert of Journey featuring Heart. That's right Journey. And Heart. Oooohhhh . . . Barracuda!
What I discovered at the fair, though, is that you CANNOT be on a diet at the fair. I felt like Templeton the rat in the animated Charlotte's Webb movie. "A fair is a veritable smorgasbord!"
There were hamburgers, hot dogs, sausages, potato ribbons, cotton candy, ice cream, a beirgarten, corn dogs ( a personal downfall ), and of course, the obligatory funnel cake. Damn the fair! We had to walk almost a mile to and back from our hotel to the concert so I felt that a corndog was justified. Come on, it's a literal State Fair Corn dog. And truthfully, it was the most delicious cord dog I've ever had in my life. And I consider myself a (former) connoisseur.
So, bottom line: Concert - awesome. The new lead singer for Journey kicks ass! And Heart, come on. If I can still rock out when I'm in my 50s then everybody else can, as my favorite comedian Kathy Griffen says, suck it! But do not go if you are watching what you eat and can't deal w/ temptation. Unless, of course, there is a kick ass concert that you absolutely can't miss.
Next up U2 and The Black Eyed Peas in Oklahoma in October. I can hardly wait. For U2 I would brave any corndog - State Fair or otherwise.
There was only one thing that could cause me to overlook all this bourgeois crap. It was a concert of Journey featuring Heart. That's right Journey. And Heart. Oooohhhh . . . Barracuda!
What I discovered at the fair, though, is that you CANNOT be on a diet at the fair. I felt like Templeton the rat in the animated Charlotte's Webb movie. "A fair is a veritable smorgasbord!"
There were hamburgers, hot dogs, sausages, potato ribbons, cotton candy, ice cream, a beirgarten, corn dogs ( a personal downfall ), and of course, the obligatory funnel cake. Damn the fair! We had to walk almost a mile to and back from our hotel to the concert so I felt that a corndog was justified. Come on, it's a literal State Fair Corn dog. And truthfully, it was the most delicious cord dog I've ever had in my life. And I consider myself a (former) connoisseur.
So, bottom line: Concert - awesome. The new lead singer for Journey kicks ass! And Heart, come on. If I can still rock out when I'm in my 50s then everybody else can, as my favorite comedian Kathy Griffen says, suck it! But do not go if you are watching what you eat and can't deal w/ temptation. Unless, of course, there is a kick ass concert that you absolutely can't miss.
Next up U2 and The Black Eyed Peas in Oklahoma in October. I can hardly wait. For U2 I would brave any corndog - State Fair or otherwise.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Getting Used to a New Trainer and other impossible goals
My trainer quit the gym. Just up and quit with no good reason. I know she has her own life and everything and doesn't exist just to whip my ass into shape, but still. My new trainer is actually the owner of the gym and she is super nice and helpful and there is absolutely nothing wrong with her whatsoever. I think, personality-wise, I might actually like her better. It's just that . . . well . . . you kind of get used to a trainer, you know?
It's a very personal relationship a woman has with her trainer. You tell her things you would never tell anyone else, not even your husband whom you love more than anything. You know, things like your weight. She's seen you sweat and groan through your toughest workouts and she's even measured your thighs, for god's sake! And you actually feel compelled to tell her the truth because you know that her sole job in your life is to make your body better. And that's exactly the way you like it.
Now she's gone and you have to get used to someone new. It's a bit like dating, I suppose, after having been in a long term relationship. I can't imagine anything more horrible. Now all I have to do is manage to carve out a good relationship with my new trainer without growing too attached. I have some serious issues.
My next impossible goal is somewhat more short term, but no less unrealistic. I want to lose 3.5 lbs. by the end of the week. 6 days. Not entirely impossible, but still highly improbable.
You see, I have these jeans . . . and then there's this concert . . . and well, you get the picture. I tried the jeans on yesterday and they actually fit. And fit pretty well, I might add. But I can't get over the fact that I'm hovering at 213.5lbs. and I can't help but feel that the jeans would look even better on me if I was at 210.
I know it's ridiculous, but still. I figure if I bust my hump all week then even if I don't lose the whole 3.5 lbs. I will at least have lost something, and hopefully even have jump started my metabolism so that next week is a little easier on the scales, too.
Call me crazy. Call me a dreamer. Just don't call me for the next 6 days. I will be at the gym.
It's a very personal relationship a woman has with her trainer. You tell her things you would never tell anyone else, not even your husband whom you love more than anything. You know, things like your weight. She's seen you sweat and groan through your toughest workouts and she's even measured your thighs, for god's sake! And you actually feel compelled to tell her the truth because you know that her sole job in your life is to make your body better. And that's exactly the way you like it.
Now she's gone and you have to get used to someone new. It's a bit like dating, I suppose, after having been in a long term relationship. I can't imagine anything more horrible. Now all I have to do is manage to carve out a good relationship with my new trainer without growing too attached. I have some serious issues.
My next impossible goal is somewhat more short term, but no less unrealistic. I want to lose 3.5 lbs. by the end of the week. 6 days. Not entirely impossible, but still highly improbable.
You see, I have these jeans . . . and then there's this concert . . . and well, you get the picture. I tried the jeans on yesterday and they actually fit. And fit pretty well, I might add. But I can't get over the fact that I'm hovering at 213.5lbs. and I can't help but feel that the jeans would look even better on me if I was at 210.
I know it's ridiculous, but still. I figure if I bust my hump all week then even if I don't lose the whole 3.5 lbs. I will at least have lost something, and hopefully even have jump started my metabolism so that next week is a little easier on the scales, too.
Call me crazy. Call me a dreamer. Just don't call me for the next 6 days. I will be at the gym.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Clean Eating or Clean Off My Rocker?
It happened like this. I was cruising the magazine rack at my local Target because it would appear that I have replaced my addiction to food with an addiction to glossy magazines. And since I just got back from a 2 week trip in which I traveled over 3300 miles, I had fully exhausted my stash. So there I am looking for something new and I find Vogue Decor (didn't care for it), National Geographic Travel (always on the lookout for the next great destination), and Clean Eating (Loved it!) I wasn't really expecting to, like it - that is, but turns out it's not totally for sandal wearing, granola eating, tree huggers. I will own to two out of the three, but let it be known that I love my fashion too much to wear sandals, at least of the Jesus Creeper variety. And since I am stuck in a dieting rut and my energy has bottomed out I was open to trying anything.
I like it. So far. Clean Eating is not really a diet, which I like. It's more of a way of eating. Pay attention to what you eat. Eat whole unprocessed foods, organic when possible. And learn how to prepare healthy meals for yourself instead of relying on restaurants where you don't really have control over what your eating.
I love that I get to eat yogurt, which I have been doing already. And I was skeptical about substituting honey and/or agave nectar for sugar, but I like it. I don't know if I can completely cut out the white sugar but I have definately cut it down drastically. I have switched from white flour products to whole grains and the best part is that my kids haven't bitched about it. Amazing! I'm not so sure about the quoina and bulgar (exotic grains) not so much because I'm afraid to try something new, but because I'm just not sure how practical it will be to find it in my tiny tiny town. And eating locally is a big factor. I have made friends at the farmer's market.
I've been doing this for about a week now and while I haven't really dropped any pounds (I haven't actually lowered my calorie intake) I have already noticed the energy going up and my mood improving as well. That was an unexpected but totally welcome bonus.
So, the bottom line, after a week of clean eating is this. I don't know if I can stick to it 100% of the time, but I have resolved to try to stick to an 80%/20% type of thing. The 20% allows for life and other crap that gets in the way and as long as I don't go crazy and start snorting Pixie Sticks it should be OK. I liked the grilled pork with peaches, but the raw hummus - not so much. So check it out, if you're looking for something new. Or even if you're not, it's totally worth the effort. Besides who can say no to an eating plan that includes lemon shortcakes with strawberries, blueberries, and fresh cream?
I like it. So far. Clean Eating is not really a diet, which I like. It's more of a way of eating. Pay attention to what you eat. Eat whole unprocessed foods, organic when possible. And learn how to prepare healthy meals for yourself instead of relying on restaurants where you don't really have control over what your eating.
I love that I get to eat yogurt, which I have been doing already. And I was skeptical about substituting honey and/or agave nectar for sugar, but I like it. I don't know if I can completely cut out the white sugar but I have definately cut it down drastically. I have switched from white flour products to whole grains and the best part is that my kids haven't bitched about it. Amazing! I'm not so sure about the quoina and bulgar (exotic grains) not so much because I'm afraid to try something new, but because I'm just not sure how practical it will be to find it in my tiny tiny town. And eating locally is a big factor. I have made friends at the farmer's market.
I've been doing this for about a week now and while I haven't really dropped any pounds (I haven't actually lowered my calorie intake) I have already noticed the energy going up and my mood improving as well. That was an unexpected but totally welcome bonus.
So, the bottom line, after a week of clean eating is this. I don't know if I can stick to it 100% of the time, but I have resolved to try to stick to an 80%/20% type of thing. The 20% allows for life and other crap that gets in the way and as long as I don't go crazy and start snorting Pixie Sticks it should be OK. I liked the grilled pork with peaches, but the raw hummus - not so much. So check it out, if you're looking for something new. Or even if you're not, it's totally worth the effort. Besides who can say no to an eating plan that includes lemon shortcakes with strawberries, blueberries, and fresh cream?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Not Too Bad For You Summer Chicken Salad
1 lb each boneless skinless chicken breast and thighs, grilled (I like the quickness of the George Foreman)
1/4 cup diced white onion
1/2 cup chopped or slivered Almonds
1, 1/2 cup chopped strawberries
1/4 cup low fat mayo
1/2 cup fat free sour cream
Mix together, refrigerate for one hour. If making ahead of time save the strawberries to add at last minute. You could serve this in whole wheat pitas, but I like it just on it's own.
To carry it into the fall substitute red grapes for the strawberries and walnuts or pecans for the almonds.
1/4 cup diced white onion
1/2 cup chopped or slivered Almonds
1, 1/2 cup chopped strawberries
1/4 cup low fat mayo
1/2 cup fat free sour cream
Mix together, refrigerate for one hour. If making ahead of time save the strawberries to add at last minute. You could serve this in whole wheat pitas, but I like it just on it's own.
To carry it into the fall substitute red grapes for the strawberries and walnuts or pecans for the almonds.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sum, Sum, Summertime
Reasons why Summer rocks for the dieter
1. Fresh Vegis from the garden or farmers market.
2. Swimming is considered wonderful aerobic exercise.
3. Likewise walking on the sand gives you a rockin' ass.
4. When it's so hot outside who feels like eating anything heavy.
5. It's way better to feel tired from gardening/playing outside/ swimming with the kids than because you logged an hour on the treadmill.
6.When it's time to hydrate - Iced Tea on the deck.
7. Yes it's hot out, but it stay light until like 9:00, so take a walk in the evening.
8. Fishing build tri-ceps muscles.
9. Fish is totally good for you, and when you catch it yourself it's even more delicious.
10. A fake tan that actually looks good. Neutrogena Spray On Self Tanner. Even coverage, not arrange. Perfect for shorts that I can finally wear.
1. Fresh Vegis from the garden or farmers market.
2. Swimming is considered wonderful aerobic exercise.
3. Likewise walking on the sand gives you a rockin' ass.
4. When it's so hot outside who feels like eating anything heavy.
5. It's way better to feel tired from gardening/playing outside/ swimming with the kids than because you logged an hour on the treadmill.
6.When it's time to hydrate - Iced Tea on the deck.
7. Yes it's hot out, but it stay light until like 9:00, so take a walk in the evening.
8. Fishing build tri-ceps muscles.
9. Fish is totally good for you, and when you catch it yourself it's even more delicious.
10. A fake tan that actually looks good. Neutrogena Spray On Self Tanner. Even coverage, not arrange. Perfect for shorts that I can finally wear.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Back in the World
Well, I'm back from vacation. Actually I was back a week ago, but it's taken me this long to figure out how to get back in the swing of things. Have you ever noticed that? That you often need a vacation from your vacation. And boy was this a vacation. Over a period of two weeks my husband and I drove 3,300 miles and spent about 44 hours in the truck. I could tell you where all the best rest areas and gas stations are all across the mid-west. Unfortunately I could also tell you where you can get the best doughnuts, deli sandwich, cheese curds what have you.
But finally I'm home. I thought that it would be relatively easy to get back in the groove. Not so much. Thankfully I (somehow) managed to not gain any weight while gone. I didn't lose any either (I was averaging about 3lbs/week) but a vacation is a vacation after all. However I also realized that I hadn't cooked and actual meal in three weeks. Turkey sandwiches and salads don't count. What's more I didn't even want to cook, which I usually love. It was like I'd left my whole identity in the U.P. I didn't really know who or what I was. Damn this summer limbo!
So I did the only thing I could think to do. I went to the grocery store. Now, of course I had been in the grocery store while on vacation. But my list was more like grapes to go with the cheese to go with the wine, some nice crusty bread, wine, and charcoal to cook the beer brats. So I re-introduced myself to my favorite neighborhood grocery store. Spent some time in the produce section. Loitered near the fresh fish. Cruised the perimeter and filled my cart with fresh healthy items. And the best part was, when I got home, I really didn't feel like I was missing all that much. Sure I enjoyed the beers and wine and cheese and brats, but I really didn't miss them all that much. I was too busy enjoying the fresh blueberries that were on sale. Love them. And the Homemade pizza margharita I made using fresh ripe tomatoes, spinach, and a little bit of Parmesan cheese and a tiny bit of mozzarella to hold it all together. We've made breakfast burritos with whole wheat tortillas, turkey sausage, egg whites and all the fresh peppers and onions you can hold.
So I think I've finally gotten it. I think I'm over the vacation slump. Now if I can just figure out how to get my mojo back at the gym . . .
But finally I'm home. I thought that it would be relatively easy to get back in the groove. Not so much. Thankfully I (somehow) managed to not gain any weight while gone. I didn't lose any either (I was averaging about 3lbs/week) but a vacation is a vacation after all. However I also realized that I hadn't cooked and actual meal in three weeks. Turkey sandwiches and salads don't count. What's more I didn't even want to cook, which I usually love. It was like I'd left my whole identity in the U.P. I didn't really know who or what I was. Damn this summer limbo!
So I did the only thing I could think to do. I went to the grocery store. Now, of course I had been in the grocery store while on vacation. But my list was more like grapes to go with the cheese to go with the wine, some nice crusty bread, wine, and charcoal to cook the beer brats. So I re-introduced myself to my favorite neighborhood grocery store. Spent some time in the produce section. Loitered near the fresh fish. Cruised the perimeter and filled my cart with fresh healthy items. And the best part was, when I got home, I really didn't feel like I was missing all that much. Sure I enjoyed the beers and wine and cheese and brats, but I really didn't miss them all that much. I was too busy enjoying the fresh blueberries that were on sale. Love them. And the Homemade pizza margharita I made using fresh ripe tomatoes, spinach, and a little bit of Parmesan cheese and a tiny bit of mozzarella to hold it all together. We've made breakfast burritos with whole wheat tortillas, turkey sausage, egg whites and all the fresh peppers and onions you can hold.
So I think I've finally gotten it. I think I'm over the vacation slump. Now if I can just figure out how to get my mojo back at the gym . . .
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