When Brownies Attack
This post is going to be hastily thrown together and for that, I apologize. I’ve been trying to write all weekend and shit just keeps gett’in in my way!
Friday was an amazing day…and also the beginning of a real eye opener for me. First, I’ll tell you about the amazing part…
I had the opportunity to attend an event at DFW airport in the American Airlines hangar. They were welcoming the new Boeing 787 Dreamliner to Texas. I usually only fly on 737′s when I travel. I can’t remember the last time I even saw a 777. The 787 is HUUUUGE! Anyway, it was a super fun event and it was so cool to stand in the hangar when they towed this massive airplane in. The only food in sight, however, was the ice cream bars that the Blue Bell company was passing out…and I am not ready to confront the ice cream demons!
I was there for hours. My feet were killing me from walking around the cement floor of the hangar in heels. Yowch! The only thing that made the pain worthwhile was the fact that I won a raffle prize: 2 round trip tickets!! The Hot Mess Hubby and I are gonna plan a vacation!!
By the time I left, I was absolutely starving. Normally, I would just deal with it but I had just dealt with a migraine headache that morning. Usually if I let hunger go unchecked when I’ve already had a migraine, it comes back with a vengeance. To make matters worse, my route home was crammed with super bad traffic because of an accident – and the usual work around routes were already congested because the Texas Rangers game was going to start. So, since I was so hungry and knew I was going to spend at least the next hour in the car, I danced with the devil: the McDonald’s drive-thru.
I can hear y’all gasping in horror all across the globe. :-) Don’t worry…really.
I haven’t been in a drive thru since December 15th. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve been to Sonic twice to get kiddy cheeseburgers for Kirby and Dyson as a special treat. I haven’t ordered anything for myself. Till Friday.
I’m really weird about ordering chicken at fast food places. It always seems slimy and slightly under cooked to me, so I just don’t touch it. I thought back to my Weight Watchers days and remembered that the occasional Happy Meal never hurt me…so that’s what I ordered. (I like my burgers plain & dry, so there wasn’t even any dressing to worry about.)
As I drove home, I dug into the Happy Meal. First bite…hmmm. Hmmm? What on earth? This burger has absolutely no taste whatsoever!! I grabbed a french fry. I always loved their french fries. Chomp chomp chomp. What?? No taste. NO taste. I made a face as I went back for another bite of my burger. I really didn’t want any more, but I wanted my stomach to feel less hollow. I took two more bites and I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. It was like eating dry fluff that had no taste. The fries were just slightly better.
I went over and over it in my mind. Before I started down this healthy living road, this was my life:
Breakfast at McDonald’s:
2 sausage biscuits, 1 cinnamon melt, 1 diet dr pepper
Snack:
Powdered donuts from the vending machine
Lunch (back to McDonald’s)
2 hamburgers, 1 large fry, 3 oatmeal cookies, 1 diet dr pepper
Dinner
Pizza or pizza rolls or frozen taquitos
I looooved the food. I thought it was so tasty and wonderful. As I would eat it, I would think “I really need to eat better, but I love this so much!!!” It seemed like such a drag to think about eating healthy. It was a world of deprivation that I didn’t want to deal with.
For the past 5 months, I’ve been cooking for myself. I’ve been eating more whole foods and less processed foods. I’ll tell you what: my blackened turkey burger with chipotle mustard is effing awesome. I would rather have that than that tasteless mouth full of fluff from McDonald’s. Yuck.
I realized…my tastebuds have finally grown up. LOL. I took the remaining half of my burger and threw it back in the bag. I tried a couple of fries, but it was still gross…and my stomach had stopped gurgling. I was done. I crumbled up the back and tossed it to the floor of my ghetto Hyundai. It was an entirely gross experience.
The next morning I woke up with a full day planned. I had to make brownies in the morning in order to test a recipe I’ve never done before…because I had to do a Pampered Chef party that night. So I put together the brownies. I’ll spare you the particulars, but I will say that they were incredibly rich. They came out smelling beautiful and looking perfect. To be sure I got it right, I did eat one. This one was a bit scary for me to do, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to have one bite of sugar and go into a relapse. I ate a brownie.
Around the 2nd to last bite, I started realizing how much the sugar was effecting me. I felt sick. Weak. Like I needed a shower. A pain started behind my eyes. I felt generally gross. I sat down on the couch for a minute, really regretting that brownie. I stayed there for 2 hours as my stomach turned into a churning, bloated, ball of regret. Ugh!!!
I don’t know how long I sat on that couch, but eventually I was in pain. Right behind my eyes. Crap…another migraine. I took a pill and, as I waited for it to take effect, I realized that this brownie was sooo not worth it. Not worth it at all. I felt like crap for hours.
When I felt better, I started gathering my stuff together for the Pampered Chef party – and I wrapped up the brownies and took them with me too. They weren’t staying in my house. I doubt I would ever want to eat one again, but I still didn’t want them in my house. Yuck!!
The rest of my weekend went by without incident, but these lessons I learned stayed with me. My tastebuds have grown up. I’m so proud. :-) I finally prefer real, healthy, home-made food to that dried out fast food crap. The turkey burger I made myself earlier was sheer heaven. Heaven!
In other news, Mr Scale is back in the bathroom and showing me no love. He’s probably pissed. I am slightly worried that the 5 day lapse in my meds has caused a stall in my progress. The 7 Dwarfs are coming next week and I was really hoping to lose 40 pounds by the time they rode into town. Doesn’t look like I’ll get to do that.
Overall, I learned that I really am changing. The things that used to thrill me now leave me wanting something better. I am so proud of myself for that…and grateful. Truly grateful.
Now let’s see if I can move some marbles this week. How are y’all doing??
Mr Scale’s Journal: Day 1
Day 1 of my captivity.
The Hot Mess Princess has relegated me to a tight space inside the confines of her closet. At first, I thought I was alone in the dark but it appears my worst fears have been confirmed: I’m caught between a shoe bag and a cat bed. The cat spends most of her day curled up in a cozy ball, napping. It’s as if she’s taunting me with her luxurious lifestyle while I sit here squashed up against the shoe bag, begging for an end to this misery.
I miss the bright lights of the bathroom. I long to feel the cold ceramic tile on my little rubber feet. The smell of shoes and cat butt is everywhere. This space is so tight, dark, and a little sad. So many clothes I never see the Hot Mess Princess wear. As I look around, I realize that she is obsessed with handbags. I think it’s a strange obsession, but I must admit she has pretty damn good taste. There’s a pair of shoes nearby with extremely pointy toes. They look like weapons. I am afraid.
The cat is a gray tabby, I’m sure. She seems quite full of herself. I’ve seen her bully one of the giant dogs before. She is not to be messed with. Just when I think my existence can’t get any worse, she rouses from her nap and stretches. The closet air suddenly smells like butt, mixed with tuna, and I realize I’m inhaling a cat fart. Why, God, why?
The black cat was in here earlier, ever curious. She sniffed at me and recoiled as if she was disgusted in some way. Bitch. At least the orange cat doesn’t seem interested. He’s the laziest animal I’ve ever seen. He literally sleeps on the bed 23 hours a day. The large bowl of kibble in the corner seems to have some kind of drugging effect on him.
There are tons of clothes hanging all around me. Many of them are very large. The Hot Mess Princess got dressed in here this morning, performing a strange ritual: she would wrestle with a piece of clothing while she tried it on, then swore expletives under her breath and put it back before grabbing something else. This went on for about 10 minutes before she finally found something that took the scowl off her face. I wanted to ask her why she has those ugly pointy shoes, but I have no mouth…so I just sat here and prayed the farty cat would not return.
The Man scares me. I don’t see him much, but his favorite outfit seems to be just socks. He staggers in here in the morning and pulls his clothes off the hangers as if he’s sleep walking. The hangers are wire. What kind of barbaric caveman uses wire hangers? His clothes are hung haphazardly over my head – this is because he shoves through them with no patience, looking for shirts without BBQ stains or pen marks. He has no idea the Hot Mess Princess keeps a secret stash of stain free clothing for when she has to take him outside to meet people.
I hear barking. Someone must be approaching the house. Or across the street. Or down the street. The younger dog seems to be very territorial and protective. And brainless. He chewed up the tv remote yesterday and then left the evidence all over his dog bed. Then he spent a half an hour staring at one of the kitchen cabinets like it was a Monet. What an idiot. If I had the ability to act out in any way, I would be too smart to get caught. Sadly, the only thing I can do is occasionally show the Hot Mess Princess a number she doesn’t like…but I risk getting kicked against the bathtub if I do. I try not to provoke her – especially since she shoved me up against the Man’s table saw.
As my day draws to a close, I listen intently to the Hot Mess Princess and the Man talking nearby. They are happy about something called baseball. I hear the Man say something about 3 balls, but I’m sure I’ve only seen 2 when he’s walking around here in the mornings. Curious.
I wish I could find a way to escape this hell. If she keeps her word, the Hot Mess Princess will take me back home to my sunny bathroom on Sunday. It seems like an eternity. Aside from spending the night on the table saw, I can’t imagine a crueler existence than leaning here in the closet where no one sees me or uses me. No one, of course, but the gray tabby…who has just yacked up a hairball right in front of me.
I pray for the sweet release of death, but I know that will never come. My lithium battery may give me life, but it also guarantees many more years of hell for me. I know this is not my last “vacation” in the closet.
Until tomorrow…
Grinding Up a Mountain Highway in a Tiny Little Smart Car
Hey y’all!
Last week, the forces of good fortune were conspiring against me and I had no idea. I’m sorry, that’s not entirely right. The forces of health care were conspiring against me.
Quite a few years ago, I had to have major surgery that resulted in me having to take medication for the rest of my life. Not taking the medication daily can result in my pre-cancerous condition returning. It can also have a negative effect on my metabolism. Great!
Needless to say, I’m pretty good at making sure I take my meds every single day. When it was time for a refill, I called my doctor’s office last week and requested one. There was plenty of time for them to call it in before I needed it. Well, they failed. I called and followed up with them on Friday, calling attention to the fact that they never called it in…and they never called me back. As a result, I went 5 days without my medication.
My progress on the scale has predictably stalled. In fact, this morning I woke up, went to the bathroom, got on the scale…no change. I watched the news for a while, went to the bathroom again, and the scale went UP a pound. UP? How is that even possible? Because it’s me, that’s why. Sheesh!
I feel like I’m trying to chug my way up a steep mountain highway in a tiny little Smart car. Putt putt putt putt….stall.
This morning, as I was flipping a rude gesture at Mr Scale and walking away, I realized that it might be time to put him away for a few days. I’m normally a big fan of weighing in every day or I start bargaining with myself (which opens the door to cheating for me). I’m not going to put Mr. Scale on the table saw again since this isn’t his fault, but I am going to move him from his usual position on my bathroom tile. I think he’s due for a vacation…perhaps in my closet next to the cozy pink bed that is a favorite napping spot for Sarah the cat, ruler of the Hot Mess Household and Official Bitch Slapper of Dyson the puppy.
I know that if I just wait this out, things will go back to normal. I’m back on my meds now. It’ll take about a week for things to sync back up again (I speak from experience). I’m not tempted to eat anything bad or derail myself in anyway, I just hate the lack of forward motion. I’m frustrated by it. I want to fix it. Unfortunately, the only thing that will fix this is patience…and I’m not very patient when it comes to losing weight. It’s a miracle I’m still sane. Writing this blog really helps. 
I go back to it again: I have two choices. The first choice available to me is to stay put and have faith. Weather the storm and be true to what I know in my head and my heart is fact: if I eat healthy and exercise, the scale will move. The second choice available to me is to turn around and go back to the “security” of an old, comfortable life. Eating for comfort. Sitting on the couch all day. Grabbing a candy bar or three during a stressful day at work. Eating a pint of mint chip ice cream while watching tv. Mentally zoning out of my own life.
It makes me proud to say that, although there are truly two choices here, there is only one choice for me…and that is to stay stuck on this road for a while longer. Soon my meds will kick in and my system will reboot and all will be as it once was.
Until then, I need a plan. I always feel more in control when I have a plan. Here it is:
Mr. Scale is on vacation until Sunday.
Dinner will be a lovely chalk-olate protein shake tonight and tomorrow.
Everything else is business as usual. By the time Mr. Scale gets back from vacation, he’ll be rested…and my system will be reset and running normal again.
Until then, you know I love to laugh…
I saw this old fitness pic this morning and I couldn’t stop laughing. Obviously, this chick is beyond delighted to be able to throw her leg up in the air like that (who wouldn’t)…but what the hell kind of fitness craze was going on here? She looks absolutely delighted, but he looks like he’s doing some kind of va-jay-jay Tae Bo. I don’t care how many calories it burns, that shit ain’t worth it.
Not cool, dude. Not cool.
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I Need Patience…RIGHT NOW!
...navigating the road to change with baby steps and training wheelsOne of my readers (hello, Ms Monica!) has asked me to share how I’m handling things foodwise and I promised to share that info here on the blog. So tonight I will explain the plan of attack I have used on my food demons for the last 4 months.
When I first started this “magical adventure of change” last December, I was a very different person than the savvy, has-it-all-together, laugh-in-the-face-of-Twinkies girl you see today…smirk. I was a Hot Mess. Back then, deciding to eat healthy meant flinging myself head first into extremes and setting myself up for failure with what I call “boot camp mentality”. A healthy change meant denying myself all enjoyment in food and forcing broccoli down my throat in large quantities. This, of course, sent me into withdrawals from Little Debbie cream filling (picture me sobbing “Why, God…why???” in a scalding hot shower…sort of reminiscent of Silkwood).
Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic – but it was bad. BAD.
The first thing I did when I got serious was to buy one of those huge books that gives you the breakdown of every food imaginable. This is the one I used:
The Complete Book of Food Counts, 9th Edition: The Book That Counts It All
I’m a Kindle girl, but I bought a hard copy of this sucker so I could hunker down on the couch with my highlighter and go to town. I highlighted every food (healthy and not-so-healthy) that I truly enjoy. Key word: ENJOY. If you know me at all, you know that the words pickle, lettuce, and bean were NOT highlighted. Blah!
With that accomplished, I set about making three lists:
· Foods I can eat (healthy foods or foods that I knew I could reasonably moderate)
· Foods that were naughty but I knew I couldn’t live without
· Foods that were so naughty that I would be giving them up… for 3 months
(I wanted time to really make healthy a habit before even trying to let these foods back in my menu plan)
Every single highlighted food was put on one of those 3 lists. Examples? You want examples? I’ve got examples!!
Chicken. I actually enjoy chicken very much. That went on the “Foods I can eat” list.
Buffalo wings. Naughty. VERY naughty. But I knew that I could not give them up…at least not cold turkey, so they went on the “Can’t Live Without” list.
Ice cream. Sweet Creamy Frozen Milk of Satan. I can’t have it. I can’t be trusted with it. If it’s in the house, I can’t stop thinking about it until I’ve eaten every last drop of it. So, as I wept softly to myself, I put ice cream on the “Give Up for 3 Months” list. Sweet mother of all things holy…I started to realize that I was serious.
Source: sweatsalty.tumblr.com via Hot Mess Princess on Pinterest
I mulled over the “Give Up for 3 Months” list. I considered each food listed. I thought about the taste of it, the enjoyment of it, and the impact of eating it while trying to eat healthy and “behave”. If there was anything that I knew I wouldn’t be able to moderate (like ice cream), it went on that list. That was about as “tough love” as I got with myself.
After I made my lists, I sat myself down for some good old fashioned mathematical fun. I figured out how many calories I would be able to eat a day and still lose weight. For me, that magical number was 1,400 calories per day. With that information in hand, I went back to my lists.
** For those of you who zoned out when I said I did the math myself, let me just say that I spent 20+ years following this diet or that, eating this or that, because every time I thought about going through the trouble of figuring it out for myself…I got intimidated. Google was my friend…and it’s yours too. Think twice before you let the diet industry tell you what’s best for you – that’s all I’m saying.
Back to my plan of attack…
I already knew I was a Hot Mess. Every time I tried to get healthy before, I allowed myself too many choices. I had always done what the diet & fitness industry said I should do and I didn’t pay attention to what I needed to do. I took a good look at all my failed attempts in the past and realized that I tried to run before I could walk…so I put myself on dietary training wheels.
Using the list of foods I could eat, I created a menu consisting of 1 breakfast, 1 lunch, 1 dinner, and 2 snacks. The entire day’s menu was within my 1400 calorie limit. I made sure the menu was balanced and contained only food choices that I was 100% happy with. There were no compromises here – no lettuce, no broccoli, no gnawing on raw carrots all day. I chose foods that I really enjoy: Special K Vanilla Almond cereal…grilled, super spicy chicken…cocoa roasted almonds…Laughing Cow garlic cheese wedges…Granny Smith apples…grapefruit…watermelon. These are all low calorie foods, sure…but they’re all foods I love. (Just FYI, those cocoa roasted almonds really killed my chocolate cravings.)
Here’s where you’re probably going to roll your eyes at me: I ate that same menu every day for about the first 2 months. Why? Because I didn’t want choices. That’s where I always failed myself. When I’m up at 5 am and trying to start my day AND new healthy habits, I don’t need to face off with a bunch of choices. This may come as a shocker, but I’m not exactly the perkiest bitch in the morning. I knew if I let myself have the power of choice, I’d sit on the couch in a half-snooze until it was time to grab my keys and head out the door…then I’d drive through Starbucks for a venti artery clogger and a maple oat scone. Not a good start for Dianne – and it would just get worse from there. I used that one menu like a suit of reinforced titanium armor, peeps…and I headed into battle with the food demons.
Eating the same thing every day was not and is not the final solution for me, but it did make things so much easier in the beginning. Sure, there were days when it got a little boring and there were times when I was really tempted to eat some kind of crap – but I just kept reminding myself how unhappy I would be if I broke my promise. I reminded myself how I would feel if I gave up…again. Overall, I found a real sense of security in eating the same meals every day. I clung to it like a life raft.
After about 2 months, I branched out a little and let myself make substitutions here and there. Now, 4 months later, I have about 3 different breakfasts, lunches, and dinners that I choose from. I plan to keep adding more choices until I can eat like a normal human being. I know that whatever combination of meals I choose, I’ll end my day somewhere between 1200 and 1400 calories. I don’t log my food anymore. Once in a while, I get buffalo wings…or pizza…or something naughty. I compensate by eating lighter the rest of the day. I haven’t had ice cream sweet creamy frozen milk of Satan since I started living healthy…because there’s some shit you just don’t mess with. Why poke a tiger with a sharp stick?
Source: imgfave.com via Hot Mess Princess on Pinterest
If I sound like an addict in a 12 step program, well…you’re not far from the truth. You don’t get to weigh 381 pounds because you just like cookies. But I’ll tell you what: alcoholics & drug addicts don’t have to drink or do drugs in order to stay alive. Not true for us food addicts. I’m not trying to make light of anyone’s struggles in any way, but facing the devil is somewhat unique if food is your drug of choice. Whatever the addiction, though, there are always underlying issues and this happens to be the way through it for me. Baby steps and training wheels…and it’s working.
Proof? Look at my weight loss ticker up there on the right. 36 pounds are gone now. I’ve lost 2 more pounds in the last couple days. The fat’s coming off whether it wants to or not…because I finally stopped following other people’s plans and doing what other people said would work. I haven’t done anything crazy like ignore my doctor or go on the “eat pork rinds all day diet”. I’ve been responsible with my health – and you should too. I slowed down and started paying attention to what was working…and what was not working – which is truly an accomplishment for someone who lives for instant gratification. It’s really hard to make a change & stick with it long enough to see if it works or not – especially when all you want to do is take a miracle fat sucking pill and sit your ass on the couch.
This patience shit can be frustrating! Now I’m fully on board because I see that this baby steps thing really works for me. A little setback doesn’t derail my progress for a whole day…or week. There was a time when one little screw up would be just the excuse I needed to give up and grab a pint of mint chip because I didn’t have a perfect day. Now all I care about is keeping myself on the road and moving forward – even if I’m not going as fast as everyone else thinks I should be. And that’s how I’m doing this…each and every day. It brings to mind a quote that I have hanging over my treadmill.
A year from now, I plan to be at least 100 pounds lighter.
Where will you be? Let’s go.
Flying Fat
Peeps!
I’m so sorry that I was quiet for so long…I went on vacation last week and completely lost my writing rhythm for some reason, something that doesn’t usually affect me but smacked me right in the 3.5 asses this time. I’m back!
Hot Mess Hubby and I flew off to visit my family last week. I work in the travel industry, so I actually have the opportunity to fly a lot. With planes getting more and more cramped as airlines try to increase capacity, my flight experiences have remained surprisingly positive. This is mostly due to the fact that I have the ability to see which flights are going to be jam packed and which flights have plenty of room – so I usually just plan my travel schedule around the roomy flights and then ask the gate agent to put me next to an empty seat so I’m not encroaching on someone else’s space. If I’m traveling with the hubby, though, I don’t worry about it…he’s used to me encroaching on him. That’s usually where my problems end when it comes to airplane travel – or that’s what I thought until we boarded our plane.
We were thrilled to be on a brand new plane. It was clean and pretty and had this really awesome ambient lighting on it. Here’s the light as seen over Hot Mess Hubby’s head:
I was so happy to have the hubby with me (he hadn’t seen my family in a year) and so excited to be flying on a new plane that I let my guard down for two seconds and completely forgot that all airplane seats are not created equal. It wasn’t until I scooted into our row (an exit row) and was clicking my seat belt extender in place that I realized…the armrests were permanently fixed. They didn’t flip up. Shit.
I turned around and slowly lowered myself into my seat, trying to remain positive as my 3.5 asses made contact with the armrests on both sides. As I forced myself down into the seat and felt my hips get pinched into oblivion, I tried not to say horrible things to myself and get negative. I really had to fight not to start my vacation off on a seriously bad note. Bless his sweet little heart, the hubby tried to help as best he could.
He had to help me fasten the seat belt because I couldn’t move anything from the waist down and the knees up – and I couldn’t see anything because the seat had shoved all my fat UP to the point where my boobs were holding my chin up. I was mortified…and in pain…and had to fight unexpected tears at this sudden, very unpleasant reminder of how very far I have to go in order to get to my goal weight. Suddenly, 34 pounds and 19.5 inches lost made me feel like a big fat slacker. And then the hubby, speaking in the soft & steady voice he uses to calm me down when I get all teary, starts pointing out the guy in 8A who’s shoulders are so broad he’s touching the lady next to him. He points out the lady in 10D who’s hanging over into the aisle probably to put some space between her and a guy who looks like his breath is pretty stanky. Hubby squeezes my hand and tells me how great I’m doing…and before I know it, it’s time to turn off all electronic devices and get ready for take off.
I wedged myself against the window and listened to music on my Kindle Fire. I had long silver earrings on as well, so imagine my surprise when hubby leans over to put the ear bud out of the my ear and tugs on the earring. Yowch! Can see the ear bud cord and the earring? I can tell the difference. Not sure what his problem was!
We had a wonderful trip and visited with tons of friends and family. It was harder for me than I thought it would be in that so many activities were planned around lunch and dinner – and our schedule was pretty full. There were a few times that we were rushing off to have lunch somewhere when I was still satisfied from breakfast. I don’t like stepping outside my normal eating routine and schedule, even after 4 months. I’ve been successful thus far for a reason and I’m almost superstitious about changing anything.
We stayed with my Mom, which meant sleeping in twin beds because that what she has in her spare rooms. Fun! Poor hubby’s bed was so uncomfortable that he was pulling the mattress down onto the floor every night for better back support. My room wasn’t much better. Every morning, I rolled out of my twin bed and looked up to see my giant reflection in a mirrored closet door. Hair all wild, eyes all squinty, and flab and fat in all its glory. Not a fun thing to look at in the morning. It was a good time, though, and nice to see everyone.
Before we knew it, we were back at the airport and getting ready to come back home. We boarded the plane and were lucky enough to get row 7, which is the bulkhead right behind first class. Lots of legroom! So there I am, standing in front of my seat and attaching my seat belt extender and…shit. Shit, shit, shit. The armrests in row 7 don’t move. Hubby’s eyes got all big and he asked me if they could bump us to the next flight. They could, yes, but I really just wanted to get home. I decided that I could suffer through the Playdoh Ass Factory one last time.
We took our seats. Hubby helped with my seat belt. I couldn’t sit back because there was too much ass between me and the back of the seat, so I asked hubby to fold up my jacket and give me some extra lumbar support back there. All of a sudden, I feel him put his hand back there and he starts shoving my ass down into the seat…as if he was tucking a shirt into his pants. Push, smoosh, cram, pack. He caught the horrified look on my face and then I just started laughing. He kissed me on the cheek and laughed with me. There were a few tears of humiliation in there, but I was just so grateful to be going home and back to my normal schedule.
Two and a half hours later, we were landing in the sweet, soft spring air of Texas. About 50% of my body was numb and I had a large bruise on my left leg from the arm rest digging into my skin. But I was home. Home, sweet, Texas home.
We’re in the middle of 7 Days of Sanity on my Facebook fan page if you want to head over there and join us. I have a feeling I’ll be working on making exercise a consistent habit for a long time. Let’s keep going with this!
Also, I just have to share this with y’all. I found this in SkyMall magazine on the plane and I really REALLY want to try and get one of these.
It’s really not in my budget at all, but wow…this looks like fun. And those Al-Qaida bugs won’t stand a chance…I’ll be going too fast! And there’s no seat, so there’s no need to tuck my asses into anything – or worry about those tiny bike seats that would have to be removed by a proctologist if I ever sat on one.
I would love to try one of these babies. What a great idea!!!
Click here to visit their website!
One more thing: April was about losing inches, apparently. My goal for May is 339 lbs by the end of the month. It’s time for me to forge ahead and get moving What’s your goal for May?
No time to waste…let’s do this!!
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