Blame it on the rain.... Or not.

Well..... I started strong and then I fizzled a bit.

Isn't that just the way of the world.

I'm not referring to just my blog but my diet too.

I had a rough week.  Those that were around me were well aware of the fact that my primary goal this week was to kill my husband.  We have since made up but the money woes and "domestic" disputes that got me going.... Kept me going.

By Monday (which for me is weigh in day) there was no happy news.  And despite my attempt to get back on track, I continue to be off kilter.

I could blame it on the fact that my doctor's office made me mad.   I could blame it on the fact that my husband was being a typical man.  I could blame it on work, or life, or lack of rain.....  Or you know (Milie Vanillie style) I could blame it on the rain.  The end result is that I made poor food decisions and I need to get back on track.  I made poor activity decisions and I need to get back on track.  Hopefully this will all happen.

It's a process.

Ahhhhhhhh.... Fitness. Yay.

Well I guess it was inevitable.  I used every excuse in the book but I could put it off no longer.  If this whole "lifestyle" change is going to be of any use I am going to have to add some sort of motion to this thing.

I can pretend like I'm looking forward to it but I'd be lying.  One of my favorite authors, Dave Barry, writes in Stay Fit and Healthy until You're Dead:

When to Actually Start Your Fitness Program

Not today, certainly.  You've done enough today!

I would rule tomorrow out, also, seeing as how it 

comes so soon after today.  You rush into these things, 

and the next thing you know you've strained a ligament

or something.  So I would say the best time to begin

would be first thing after Easter, although not the one 

coming up.

I agree.

Well, mostly I agree.  At least my 12 year old self (who is really very selfish and likes watching TV and eating mashed potatoes) agrees.  But grown up Melissa understands that it's important.  So I'm starting slow.  I convinced myself to get up and walk while my son was at football practice.  I wish you could understand the amount of time I had to spend mentally convincing myself to do this before I got up and put on some moderately appropriate clothing.  Of course when I went looking for my long neglected running shoes I found that the dog had eaten one of them.  I swear to you.  The dog ate my running shoes.

Who does this happen to?

Me.

I didn't let it stop me.  This is the part that I'm most proud of.  I made my son bring me an old pair of his shoes (that I paid nearly $200 for so you'd think they'd be comfortable but you'd be wrong) and I went walking.  I walked a little over 2 miles.  It was slow.  BUT I DID IT!!!  It was more of a mind over matter thing... and I guess a skin rubbing off my ankles in these ridiculously uncomfortable, slightly too big shoes.. thing.  But I did it.  Now you should all pat me on the back.  Then you should give me a glass of wine because I earned a few extra Weight Watchers points.

The Chubby Chick vs. Cheese

I love cheese.  I LOVE it.  We have a serious relationship that has gone on for much longer than my marriage.  I can take a slice of cheddar and just savor it.  I hear Barry White singing in the background as I eat it.  This relationship is not healthy.

So now I'm dieting.  I think I hear my cheese calling from the refrigerator.  If I could eat it in moderation I would be OK but my problem is that with perfectly healthy intentions I'd have a little cracker with some goat cheese smothered with mustard seed drizzle sauce and black out only to wake up to find my point calculator had exploded.

So last night I decided to cook fajitas.  This is my attempt to not "punish" my family with "diet" food just because I'm dieting. (I'll fight that battle another day.)  I figured I'd have the meat and veggies but not have the toppings and tortillas that they eat.  But because I'm a good wife and mother (this is said through gritted teeth and an insincere smile) I prepped all of it.  This meant I grated the cheese.

Have you ever heard of this disease called "Alien Hand Syndrome"?  It's a real disease.  It involves brain trauma and suddenly your hand is doing things that your brain is not fully aware of.  I developed this disease last night.  I was shredding the cheese and I'd turn around only to find that my right hand was trying to force me to eat the cheese!!!  It wasn't me doing it.  It was my alien hand!!!

I did survive and had chili lime flank steak with fajita veggies, and avocado for under 10 points.  I'm proud of myself.  But I miss my cheese.

If you're interested:

Flank steak, Limes, Avocado, Onions, Green Peppers, Cherry Tomatoes, Chili Powder, Salt, Pepper

Spritz a pan with olive oil and put in sliced veggies.  Salt and pepper to taste.  Remove.

Using same pan (because dishes!) spritz with olive oil.  Squeeze lime juice liberally on both sides of steak.  Rub in chili powder, salt and pepper.  Sear both sides and cook to desired temp.  Rest and slice. 

Serve with or without cheese.

Here I am!

I am many things… a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, the world's BEST aunt, fundraiser organizer, PTO board member, president of the altar guild, ECW board member, wedding coordinator, volunteer, day care director and all-around cool gal.  So why is it, I wonder, that lately my life seems to be defined by me being "the chubby chick"?  No one else says it.  But I feel it.

"Who did you say Bob was dating?"  "Oh Emma, she's the really tall blonde."

"Who made this fabulous cheese dip?"  "Robert, the firefighter."

"Who did you say was going to volunteer at the carnival?"  "Melissa, the chubby chick"

Yep.  That's me.  Melissa, the chubby chick.  Probably in line at the buffet table somewhere near the cheese.  It's OK.  I own it.  But I'm done.

I went to the doctor the other day and she gave me a disapproving smile.  "You've gained 8 pounds in three months.  You will need to come in and have another cholesterol test."

BUT!!!!

"But Doctor, I hurt my leg and I haven't been able to exercise.  And I had a car accident.  And Benny just started back to school. And I've got a lot happening at work.  And…."

I have to own it.  Now in front of God and Country I am going to admit:  I am 5' 4" tall and I weigh 233 pounds.  I wear a size 18 if I wear something with a size.  Mostly I aim for XXL because that usually means it has no waist line and/or uses elastic.  I wear bike shorts under my dresses because my legs rub together when I walk and that's uncomfortable.  I sweat more than others and when I sit on a leather or plastic chair I usually try to slide forward instead of standing straight up because if I stand straight up you can see the outline of my rear end because of the sweat.

I have never admitted any of that to anyone.  And there are even worse things.

So here I am holding myself accountable.  I've joined Weight Watchers and this is going to happen.  I hope you will join me on my journey.  I plan to reveal the humor there is in all of this.  I hope to keep myself sane and on track.  And of course, I gather my self worth from likes, shares and comments so keep them coming!!!