Friday, August 26, 2011

WW Weigh-In, Week 25

Weigh-In: 136
Mood: Bemused

I have no clue what netted me a 136, especially considering my water retention is ramping back up. I give! I have determined, though, that I'm not going to go on any more baking frenzies for awhile. In five weeks I've managed to actually lose... well, nothing. Which is crap. And one thing I've been doing consistently over those weeks, except this past weekend, is bake evil desserts.

It appears I've found my trigger food. I can take it easy with chocolate bars, I can do just one serving of ice cream, but put me near a cake or cookie-like substance and I lose all sense of proportion... or portion. The same thing happens with potato chips. There's a reason I don't bring many of those into my house.

Fortunately I'm well back into working out, and I've been on top of it. I'm still sick unto death of my treadmill and my elliptical is possessed (really, it is) so after forcing myself onto the treadmill all week (I can at least read on the blasted thing) I'm going to repeat last week's hiking theme with the boys. We're heading to the same nature preserve for another gatoriffic hike tomorrow, and Sunday we're heading to a different park that also has hiking trails. This one even promises to have a playground for the boys for afterward.

And yes, there will be more alligators. It's Florida -- we can't escape them. The boys have been informed that if we see one at anything resembling close range the only instruction I have is "RUN!!!!!!!"

Gator cardio. Gotta love it.

I'm curious to see figures for the next two weeks' weigh-ins. There WILL be saintliness, and I'm interested to see if it will be rewarded.

Monday, August 22, 2011

WW Weigh-In, Week 24

Weight: 138
Mood: Relieved

Yep, relieved about sums it up. Honestly, I haven't been eating like someone who's trying to lose weight recently. My activity was spot-on for the week, though, and that's what saved this weigh-in to any degree despite what I crammed down my gaping maw.

I've reached that point where I'm bored with my food again. This time, it seems to be my lunch that's really getting to me. Breakfast is good, dinner is good, snacks are usually okay (yes, usually... some issues there although it's not the worst of it), but lunch?

Nope. There is no way that eating a Chipotle burrito bowl two times in two weeks equals a good choice for someone trying to lose weight, especially not when combined with an outing to McDonald's, a Cuban sandwich, and 2 oz. of Dirty Potato Chips Black Pepper and Sea Salt flavor. Again, I didn't consume this all in one day, but it's still not sane.

Don't ask me about the cookies-and-cream-cheese bars. I'm not talking. See veiled snack references above.

In spite of all this I'm at 138, which all things considered is good, and arguably maintaining. It's not goal, though, and I'd really like to see 130. I've got a new lunch plan which should take care of some of the cravings (must. have. peanut. butter. NOW.), so it's full speed ahead.


Mammogram results are back and normal. My re-scan on the ovarian issue is at the end of September. Meanwhile, I'm able to give myself numerous diseases and dire conditions (curse you, Doctor Google!), so the rational part of my brain is torn between trying to ignore the fact that I feel like crap (Silly Amanda, you're just talking yourself into feeling lousy!) and trying to explain to the anti-malingering gene that I really do feel sick (Really, Amanda, just because you're capable of talking yourself into feeling sick doesn't mean you aren't legitimately ill).

Good times.


I spent Saturday de-fleaing the house. Choreboy washed Teddy and put the flea meds on him Friday, so Saturday the Elder and I cornered all three cats and managed to get their flea stuff on them with zero bloodshed. Score! Then we locked down the cats and sprayed the bedrooms, followed by intensive vacuuming. After that, we moved all the cats into one of the flea-free bedrooms and poisoned the rest of the house, after which more vacuuming ensued.

I came close to freaking out when the Elder said later on that evening that he'd found a flea, but he followed it up quickly by saying it was dead. I tell you, four furry housemates in Florida during high flea season? Not fun for any of us.

Sunday I couldn't face the treadmill so the boys and I headed out for an 80 minute hike at one of the local nature preserves. The Gum Zombie spotted an alligator so he was tickled. That got my heart rate up (we were on a path called "Alligator Alley" during nesting season -- what was I thinking?), and it stayed up until we were well away from all vaguely swampy areas. Now I have shin splits because I'm so accustomed to the treadmill that I completely overestimated my ability to walk on normal ground. Genius.

But it was a good end to the last, perfect summer. This was the last year my boys were able to attend the same summer program because the Elder ages out once he turns 13. And he's not yet hit puberty big-time, so he and the Gum Zombie are still my little boys. But the hair over the Elder's upper lip is darkening, and I was just looking at our vacation pictures from last year and noticing how much older both boys now look.

My babies are growing up. They're supposed to, so it's all good. I just feel a little... lost. I'll snap out of it, but I miss my little boys. And I hated to see the summer end.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Ultrasound Results, in Brief

I had a pelvic ultrasound the same day I had my mammogram, and the u/s results are in. I've got a small fibroid in my uterus, which is a non-issue. And I've got a cyst on my right ovary, which may or may not be a non-issue.

They'll be re-scanning me in 6 weeks, and we'll go from there depending on what the results are.

As for the mammogram, no results in on that yet. Word is that 70% of first-time mammograms need a repeat, and considering the whole fibrous-breast issue, I'd put that more like at 90% for me.

Looks like 2011 is Year of the Medical Tests. I tell ya, you get past 40 and the whole body goes downhill :P

Thursday, August 11, 2011

WW Weigh-In, Week 23

Weight: 137.7 (okay, 137.66, but I'm rounding up today)
Mood: Less annoyed than I was.

So the scale is creeping down again, albeit slowly. I've still got some weird retention issues going on, so I'm just going to throw it to the hormone gods and try to remember them when I have another super-impressive weigh-in.


The Elder had his 7th grade physical today, and I am happy to announce that not only can the boy hear perfectly, but I now have documented proof! Those of you who live or have lived with an adolescent understand my excitement.

Gotcha, kid. Heh.

He wasn't too happy about the turn-your-head-and-cough-fest, but I told him that I was the wrong person to approach to expect that to get him out of anything. I just had a pelvic ultrasound yesterday (with The Probe), as well as my first mammogram. No, I didn't share ALL this information with him, but I did make it clear that sometimes we just have to suck it up for our health, and it's only once a year so although I truly feel his pain (so to speak), he's going to have to deal.

Regarding the mammogram, by the way, it was totally no sweat. Even though I'm still retaining a bit of fluid, it didn't get above mildly uncomfortable. So ladies, if you're of that age, get out there and get those boobies squished! If a pansy like me can take it, anybody can.

Speaking of age, Choreboy turns 50 in a matter of days. I'm still working on getting him to go in for all those fun "I'm 50 and over!" medical tests. No, I'm not holding my breath. The man is cute, and that cuteness is equaled only by his hardheadedness.

Outside of all that, I got nothing. Oh, except a new bathing suit. But I'm not posting that on the web. Y'all will have to wait until we get back from vacation sometime later on this year and see if I allowed a camera near me while I was wearing less than full coverage. And my dears?

I just don't see that happening. But it's freaking adorable, and I have that on very good authority.

Have a great weekend, all :)

Sunday, August 07, 2011

WW Weigh-In, Week 22

Weight: 138.5
Mood: Resigned

You know how last week I mentioned that the emotional end of the PMS-fest wasn't off the charts? Yeah, that might have been a bit premature. Last Sunday night Choreboy and I were peacefully watching TV when something in my brain flipped and we ended up having a 20-minute "discussion" involving the TV, the air conditioner, and the number 77.

I never said I was logical. And if I had, that particular moment in time would have proven otherwise.

I also did indeed make the chocolate peanut butter cake.




Full disclosure: the need for two cakes was because the first was in part for my mother's bridge group, and that combined with my kids' intake wouldn't leave enough for the office. So of course I had to make cake number two (which I liberally decorated with Reese's Pieces on top of the ganache) to ensure the office got a complete cake rather than three rather tiny slices. Clearly this was entirely a humanitarian effort.

I'm avoiding mentioning the four slices I managed to consume on my own.

So the cake didn't nuke my weigh-in. Outside of the four slices I totally didn't mention in the fine print above, my food intake was on point for the week. What gave? Well, the hormonal water retention fest nailed me, probably in conjunction with the fact that I couldn't exercise. And I'm still retaining bucketloads of that water, which isn't improving my mood in the least.

And although the cake didn't necessarily cause the scale gain, I'm relatively certain it didn't help either.

We'll see what this coming Thursday brings. I'm not holding my breath. I am, however, going to pry my butt out of this chair and go get on my treadmill post-haste. I can exercise again, and I'm going to burn off every calorie possible before next weigh-in.