Monday, October 7, 2013

Day 129: The Dawn of Boot Camp, Plus Other Odds and Ends

Good Neighbor Anne and I have started a week of Boot Camp. For me, this means daily food logging, aiming for no more than 2,000 calories (FYI, to achieve a one-pound weekly weight loss, Fat Secret has me at 2,200 calories); daily aerobic exercise, either walking or zumba; daily core work; weight-lifting every other day; lots of water; and eight hours of sleep each night, if at all possible. 

Sadly, this last goal will be the most challenging for me; I get up at 7 but cannot seem to turn my light off at 11. Midnight is my natural bedtime, and on Saturdays, my one day to "sleep in," I naturally wake around 8. So I know my body wants eight hours . . . I'm just not the boss of my body, apparently.

Today I'm waiting for both an editing job and my new printer to arrive (my old one died on Friday — a bad, bad day for many reasons). But I've already taken my walk (and sweated a gallon — it's humid here), lifted my weights, and worked my core, and I'm feeling good.

Actually, I'm feeling sweaty and stinky, but nonetheless virtuous. 

OK — on to "old business," aka the things that are starting to pile up around my computer again.

I read a great article called "Rev Up Your Metabolism!," which acknowledged that metabolism slows as you get older. The authors recommend checking out the online Metabolism Calculator and then subtracting 500 calories from what you naturally burn each day in order to lose a pound a week (because a pound equals about 3,500 calories). I was torn between whether I'm "lightly active" or "moderately active," so I tested both — and both are very close to what Fat Secret is telling me! So this week I will play the numbers game and see what happens.

I've always loved math. Now it's math's turn to love me.

Next up! I mentioned a few days ago that I read an article by Tory Johnson, who's lost 62 pounds so far . . . and of course I'm happy for her, but I found her approach unsettling. 
  • One of the first things she did was to rid her kitchen cupboards of all carbohydrates, even healthy ones like brown rice. This seems crazy to me. How can cutting out an entire food group be good for you? 
  • She offers this nugget of wisdom: "Food is fuel; it does not have to be amazing, entertaining, or exciting." Um . . . wow. This is pretty much a 180 from my philosophy of live to eat. If I'm not enjoying what I'm eating . . . I'm going to look for something more enjoyable. Fortunately, I do enjoy lots of healthy foods. 
  • Finally, she describes an interaction with her girlfriend: "Cindy wants to lose weight, too, but when she acknowledges that no, she doesn't want to give up her glass of white wine at night or her margaritas when she's out with girlfriends, I'm skeptical." Because . . . you can't possibly want some small pleasures and also be serious about losing weight? The word "skeptical" struck me as needlessly bitchy and judgmental.
Since I may also sound needlessly bitchy and judgmental right about now, let me quickly say that weight loss is such a personal thing, and everyone has to find the approach that works for her. I wish Tory Johnson all the best.
. . . but I'm also glad that she's not my besty.

I did like how she lost 11 pounds and got ready for the world to hand her a medal — and then no one even noticed. That is exactly how I felt during the first months of my weight loss. Where's my standing O, world? Are you kidding me?? And I love her suggested distraction of painting your nails when you've got the munchies — when your top coat is wet, you won't be reaching in to the potato chip bag. (Though what's she doing with potato chips in the house if she won't even allow brown rice?!)

Hmm. I am really stinky, but UPS hasn't arrived yet, and I'm afraid to abandon my post. It may be time to break down and call someone. This girl needs a shower!!

But first, two more things from my pile. The first is a true marvel that one of my Betsy-Tacy pals knew I would want (which I totally do, despite the weirdly armless nature of the players — even though, as Mimosa points out, all foosball players are armless. But these seem especially so. Not that I have anything against the armless):

And this, a joke that my pal the Maybelline Queen sent me a long time ago. It's totally misogynistic and totally sexist, and nonetheless it makes me giggle every time I read it:

One day, long, long ago, there lived a woman who did not whine, nag, or bitch.

But this was a long time ago . . . and it was just that one day.

The End
Have a great week, everyone! If you want to do Virtual Boot Camp with Me and Good Neighbor Anne, let me know and I'll post your goals here as well.


—Lady C, planning to get an "A" in Boot Camp

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