Weekly Recap February 20

Total points eaten out of possible 210: 140 (n/a)

Total Weekly Points Allowance eaten out of 49: 20 (n/a)

Days tracked: 4

Total Activity points earned: 6

Meals eaten out: 5

Favorite thing I ate this week: Fried Chicken from Buttermilk Channel

Favorite thing I cooked this week: Asian Turkey Meatballs from Skinnytaste

Least favorite thing I ate this week: Chicken Gyro from diner, so over cooked!

Triumph over food: Not ordering an appetizer at Buttermilk Channel, just some cocktail nuts to nibble on.  Wanted to save myself for the fried chicken and I’m glad I did, it was better than I remember.

Weekly Recap February 13

Total points eaten out of possible 210: 201

Total Weekly Points Allowance eaten out of 49: 48

Days tracked: 7

Total Activity points earned: 12

Meals eaten out: 2

Favorite thing I ate this week: Tie between Asian glazed chicken drumsticks (Skinnytaste recipe I made) and a Salted Caramel cupcake from Sprinkles.

Least favorite thing I ate this week: DiGiorno pizza and Wyngz (yes Wyngz not wings)

Triumph over food:  This is more of a triumph over “tracking” – after not tracking all day Saturday and Sunday and feeling like I’d totally gone off the rails I decided to track it all to find out the damage.  I went through and added it all up for the past two days (had to guesstimate some of it) but put it all on paper nonetheless.  Turns out, I still had WPA points left and my activity points were untouched so it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought.  Always try and track, even if it’s a disaster.  Tracking is an accountability only to yourself – so take it seriously and have integrity when taking care of you – you’re worth it!  Whether you track it or not, you’re body will when you get on the scale!

Same weight, different date

Superbowl Sunday. Giants vs. Patriots. AGAIN! The last time these teams faced each other was 2008 and back then I was fat and not-so-happy.  I remember the day well because it was a major turning point for me.  I couldn’t find anything to wear for the Superbowl party and compensated for it by putting on a full face of makeup.  As if that would take attention away from my muffin top!  After that party, some pictures were posted on Facebook and the sight of myself scared me into a Weight Watchers meeting.  After that, I lose 23lbs.  Truly a milestone for me.

Four years later and a lot has happened.  I lost 23lbs, got married, gained the weight back, had a baby and went back to work.  Since giving birth to my son, I’ve lost 28lbs!  I started going to yoga!  My cholesterol is lower.  In short, I feel great.  The truth is, I am back to my pre-pregnancy weight.  But, my pre-pregnancy weight was nothing to brag about.  Remember I’d gained all that weight back?  So essentially now I’m right back where I started on Superbowl Sunday of 2008.

But, things couldn’t be more different when I look in the mirror.  Now that I’ve got a regular 3x a week Bikram Yoga practice my body looks better!  Toned, a bit tighter, just a little bit trimmer around the legs, arms and stomach.  Don’t get me wrong, I still have a LONG way to go (don’t have a 6 pack yet!), but this is a huge leap forward for me.  I’ve never been able to keep any kind of exercise program going.  My first yoga class was back in November and since then I’ve taken 55 classes, or an average of 3 per week.  I did a 30 day challenge for crying out loud.  This give me great confidence!  When I’m in yoga and not feeling it or having trouble with a particular pose I just say to myself “Marie, you did a 30 day challenge, you can do this!”  Sad to say, but I need this confidence boost every now and then, becuase to me, I am not the “yoga type”.  I’m not someone who “goes to the gym” or “owns a yoga mat”.  But I am, I do.  Who have I become?

Having my son and dealing with gestational diabetes has really put things in perspective for me. (Oh and turning 30 – forgot to mention that!)  Having gestational diabetes puts me at a higher risk for Type 2 diabetes and that’s a scary thought.  I’m also worried because Type 2 runs on both sides of my family, so I really need to be careful.  I realize now that I have to take care of myself if I want to be healthy and happy.  I have to actually make an effort to be well fed and exercised to reduce the risk of diabetes.  This is serious stuff!  I hate to admit it, but sometimes we have to be scared by something to really make a change in our lives.  And I am!

Now, my non-negotiables are yoga 3x a week (no matter what) and cooking healthy meals 5x a week.  This is my baseline expectation for myself every week so I can lead a healthy lifestyle.  The scale may not reflect it, but I am not the same as I was the last time I was this weight.  I’m in control now.  Eating and exercising and enjoying a better body.  Just more proof that the number on the scale is only one piece of the puzzle!

Lock your knee, Lock Your Knee, LOCK YOUR KNEE

On December 20th,  I concluded my Bikram Yoga 30 Day Challenge.  30 classes in 30 days.

Hours of yoga: 45

Ounces of water consumed: 720

Activity points earned on Weight Watchers: 180

Number of Oreos you can eat with 180 activity points: 125

Towels rented: 37

Loads of Laundry: 10

Parking tickets received: 1

Times I got to the studio and was locked out of class: 1

Times I got to the studio out of breath from running to avoid being locked out of class: 3

Number of times I cried during class: 1

Number of times I wanted to leave the room: 4

Number of times I had to clarify my name is “Marie” not “Murray”: 3

New yoga outfits bought: 2

Number of pounds lost: 0

Cases of ringworm contracted: 1

Ear infections contracted: 1

Number of times I left class feeling amazing: 30

 

The 30 Day Challenge: Day 9

Yes you read that right. Day 9 completed.  I am crossing off the days on a calendar like a child waiting for Christmas day.  It’s very satisfying to cross days off a calendar – I only wish it was like an advent calendar that gave you a little piece of chocolate each day!

I wanted to write more but I’ve had no time with taking care of Dylan and just getting to yoga everyday.  No idea how I’m going to do this for two more weeks when I go back to work.  But, luckily I’ve got some friends and family helping with Dylan duties so I will be able to do it.  Without their help, none of this would be possible.   Plus, my friends have been so supportive giving me pep talks and reminding me that I can do it!  It’s funny, but when I was in labor and just wanted to give up and tell my doctor to “give me a C-section already and let’s get this over with!”, she said to me, “Marie you have no idea how strong you are.”  Honestly, I didn’t even remember that happening. (Labor has a way of fogging the memory).  Ran reminded me of it when we were talking about how great my doctor was during my pregnancy and Dylan’s birth.  What a cool thing to say to someone who is just about to give up on anything – not just childbirth (which you can’t give up on by the way).  “You have no idea how strong you are.”

Maybe this is a problem when we’ve basically gone through life without major turmoil.  We’ve never been pushed to our limits.  We’ve never had major loss or heartbreak.  Maybe this is why during my very first Bikram class over three years ago I actually ran from the room BEFORE the first posture.  I had no idea how strong I was.  I stood up in that 104 degree room and felt so lightheaded that I got scared and did the ONE THING you’re not supposed to do – I left the room.  Literally, at your first Bikram class the teacher will tell you “You’re only objective today is to STAY IN THE ROOM.”  At the first sign of discomfort I ran away.  I left the room and had to be calmed down with cold towels and soothing words.  It was SO embarassing.  If you had told me then that after giving birth I would be doing a 30 day challenge and subjecting myself to the Bikram “torture chamber” every day, I would have never believed it in a million years and then put an Oreo cookie in my mouth!

I’m always being reminded that its OKAY to be uncomfortable.  It’s actually part of life.  You have to feel it and let it pass through you and then forget it.  This is a very hard thing to do.  Usually to avoid these feelings I turn to food.  Maybe if I stuff enough cookies in my mouth these feelings will go away?  It’s soothing.  It’s my version of a pacifier stuck in my mouth.  As adults our bottle and pacifier are taken away but we have loads of other ways to self soothe – drugs, sex, food, alcohol.  Being in that heated “torture chamber” every day for 90 minutes is one giant exercise and “being uncomfortable”.  Forget doing the postures, just being in a 104 degree room for 90 minutes and sweating your butt off is uncomfortable.  Having your already clingy yoga cloths literally drenched in your own sweat makes your skin crawl.  You are itchy, dripping, your hair is a mess.  The lines of your underwear are visible in the mirror underneath wet clingy clothes.  You are the actual definition of a “hot mess”.  Then they want you to lock your knee while standing with the other foot in the air like an “L”!!  You have to just let it go.  You have to live there.  Occupy Uncomfortable.

Tomorrow I’ll celebrate 10 days in a row.  My neck and back ache a little but I’m surprisingly in good shape.  I’m hoping by the end of these 30 days I’ll be more comfortable in my body and my mind.

The 30 Day Challenge: Day 1

On Monday, after a week worth of serious contemplation and planning, I decided to embark on the infamous Bikram Yoga 30 Day Challenge.  At Bikram Yoga Park Slope, where I normally practice, the 30 Day Challenge is defined as “taking 1 class every day for 30 days in a row” after which you receive a month of free yoga to fulfill a 60 Day challenge.  Why, you ask, would I want/need to do this? Well…

Back in late July I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Dylan, at 8lbs 4oz.  Since then I have been on maternity leave from my job.  It’s been a magical time of bonding with my baby and enjoying being home and a housewife.  But as you know, all good things must come to an end so, on December 5th I go back to work.  With the clock ticking I started going to Bikram Yoga again 2 weeks ago in an attempt to get rid of some of the baby weight.  Since Dylan’s birth I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight, but I’m still not at my “pre-pregnancy weight” and my jeans from that era were fitting just barely (muffin top!).  I finally got sick of feeling and looking like the Pillsbury dough boy.  Now I know, I just had a baby!  I mean, I have a great excuse for being overweight.  But, I don’t want excuses to stay unhealthy and unhappy.

I’ve been breastfeeding this entire time and for a while that was a great excuse not to diet or exercise.  One of these days I will write an entire post on breastfeeding and how challenging it is to do.  It’s also rewarding which I why I am still doing it.  But it’s a big time commitment and it really ties you to your baby (as if you weren’t tied down already!).  Now that I’ve mastered breastfeeding, I decided I had to try and do something healthy for myself and take advantage of what’s left of my maternity leave.  I came to grips with the fact that Dylan is going to have more formula bottles per day while I am at yoga and that is Okay.

After flirting with the idea of the 30 day challenge for 2 weeks I finally asked Ran what he thought.  He is always so supportive and proclaimed, “Of course you can do it!”.  I made a calendar and cross referenced it with the yoga schedule and Ran’s work schedule to find out if I really could attend 30 classes in 30 days.  There were some gaps, but nothing major that couldn’t be fixed with a hired babysitter and asking some friends and family for help.

Then the fear set in.  What if I can’t do it?  What if it’s too hard?  What if it’s too painful?  I was freaking out Monday before the 5:30 class I was planning to attend.  I got lazy and stayed on the couch and over ate.  Man, was I uncomfortable!  I was so scared to take on a new challenge I ran right to my comforts: TV and Food.  Then I figured  – I have nothing to lose by trying.  I have to lose weight.  I have to get healthy.  I know this.  I want this.  Even if I fail, I still win because I tried.  I went to class, I did the postures and got the benefits.

Ran came home from work Monday and I asked him to take some “Before” pictures of me.  I made sure to put on my most ill-fitting outfit so they would look horrific, and believe me – they did! And then, I went to class and signed up for the 30 day challenge.  I have taken the first step. Stay tuned.  I will only post those frightening “Before” pictures when I have some amazing “After” pictures to put alongside it. Namaste!

Will this winter EVER end??

I just took a shower in preperation for bed time and had to slather half a bottle of body lotion on to calm my wintery dry skin.  It’s March 29th.  Shouldn’t “March” be acting a little less lioness and a bit more lamb-like at this point?  I never dreamt I’d still be wearing my winter coat and bundling up just to take Bamba for a walk on March 29th!  So I ask you, will this winter EVER end?

Isn’t it bad enough Snowpocalpse had us under mountains of dirty snow for over 2 months? Isn’t it bad enough, that the aforementioned snow kept me from wearing all my nice winter boots for fear of ruining them?  Isn’t it bad enough that I’ve been pregnant this whole time and haven’t been able to enoy one single Hot Totty?

Admittedly, I spent half of this winter cozy on the couch enjoying my new found food freedom (courtesy of Baby), and the other half dutifully cleaning out closets and re-organizing the apartment to make room for baby.  So I guess, the winter hasn’t been all that bad.  We can certainly say that we’ve accomplished something.  We started our major re-organization project in the kitchen which was probably the most difficult of all the rooms in the apartment because we had to start “living the life we live now”.  (Not the one we aspire to).  C’mon you know what I mean!  Oh, no?  You didn’t read last month’s “de-clutter” issue of O magazine?  Well, in that case, let me tell you: That bitch can sell anything.  Oprah sold me on throwing out stuff that I haven’t touched in a year and on “living the life I live now.” If you saw last week’s episode of “The Middle”, perhaps you get the idea.

In short, Oprah says, “Stop holding on to things that are not about who you are today.”  Things like (but not limited to): the treadmill you don’t use, the guitar you don’t play, the clothes you don’t wear, and the cooking stuff that just gathers dust while you order takeout.

Take a second and really think about the stuff (or shit, depends on your mood) that is taking up space in your home.  Mentally go through all the rooms, one by one, first the obvious ones, and then places like the closets, the garage, the storage unit, the storage unit you have at your mother’s house – all of it.  Can you identify at least 20% of crap you can safely say you have not touched or even thought about in the past year?  Throw it out, donate it to charity, leave it on your curb for someone else.  Just do it.  We did, and I have to say, I feel so much lighter and happier.  I wake up every morning with less clutter on my mind and in my heart.  It’s such a better to wake up and start your day, I promise.

Plus, you come to terms with who you are right now instead of always thinking about who we want to be. Let’s just be who we ARE and that will make us the happiest of all.

So, where did we net out?  Oreos are still in our cabinets, and healthy shakes have been thrown out.  But we also made space for all our lovely kitchen stuff that we’d like to use more often (if only we could remember where it is!).  Old clothes that don’t fit were donated and work out gear was safely stowed away for post-baby weight loss actitivities.  The shit in this apartment, is now a much better of picture of who Marie is today then it ever has been.  And knowing that, has made me calm and settled in a way I haven’t felt before.  Now that that’s outta the way, I can start thinking about the future.

 

I’m not fat. I’m pregnant, you asshole.

Yes, you read that right. I’m not fat, I’m pregnant. But, no, you’re not an asshole. Oh gosh, where do I even start? I know that it’s been far too long since this blog has seen any action and for that I sincerely apologize. As many of you know, I really only write when I have a well thought out message for a blog post. No one, including me, wants to read about every banal detail of my everyday life – so I try to skip that and just write about the really good details and things that I feel are worth sharing. I’m sad to admit, I haven’t had any well thought out messages for you in a REALLY long time.

This blog post has been brewing in my head for a while, but for some reason, it took a brand new iPad 2 to get me writing again. Friday night at midnight, Ran and I went to the Apple Store for the third time that day to see if the line had decreased enough for us to actually stomach it. By midnight, it had and so, in we went for some retail therapy of the Apple variety. I had been thinking about getting a iPad for a while, but was convinced that there was really no reason for it. I have an iPod, an iPhone, a desktop and work laptop. Plus, Ran has an iPad, iPhone, iPod and a macbook. Seriously, we should buy stock in Apple. So basically, there’s absolutely no need for ANOTHER iPad in the house. Except that my desktop is 4 years old and super slow. It’s not used for much except the occasional web surf and to update my iTunes. After some consideration and notification that my tax return this year would be VERY generous, I decided to get the iPad to use as a computer rather then getting a new computer. The desktop will still have a home on my desk – because I can’t bear to part with the only PC left in the house. Old habits die hard, I guess. (You’re welcome Bill Gates)

Happy to report, that I am writing this blog post with my iPad 2 (in it’s snazzy docking station with the wireless keyboard connected -Hell, I have to make this feel like a desk top experience and I can’t figure out how to type on the iPad without going crazy).

I’m also home alone tonight. Well not entirely alone. Ran is out for the night and I’m sitting here with our little dog Bamba. I can’t help but notice that as Bamba came into our lives this summer I stopped writing. We decided to get a dog pretty quickly. Ran was talking about it for years and I had been saying “Imagine?” every time he brought it up. (That was my *nice* way of saying “Not a chance in hell”). But as soon as we saw our friend Manuela’s puppy Lola, I started to think “Maybe I could be a dog owner.” Lola is a toy poodle and was just 8 weeks old. She was so tiny and the sweetest apricot color. She’s hypoallergenic and was just so darn cute! After a weekend spent on the Brooklyn shore talking non-stop about puppies, Ran and I were in touch with the dog-breeder who sold Manuela Lola asking about Lola’s sister, Zoe. I wasn’t truly convinced about getting a dog until I saw a picture of little Zoe. I remember seeing it on my computer screen at work and thinking, “She looks sad like me, I will give her a happy home.” From that moment, I knew “That was MY dog.” We picked her up about a week later and changed her name from Zoe to “Bamba”. The name “Bamba” may sound familiar as I’ve mentioned the snack “Bamba” in the blog before. Bamba is a snack from Israel that looks like a cheese doodle but is actually peanut butter flavored. When Bamba was a newborn puppy, she was kinda peanut butter colored and I just always liked the name Bamba for a dog. I also always liked dogs with food names: Waffle, Applejack, Muffin, and Oreo – for example. I have to admit, I selfishly thought getting a dog would be good for us as it would force us to walk it and get a little exercise. More on that epic fail later.

It’s St. Patty’s Day, a perfectly lovely Thursday night, and I’m home alone with the dog and a fridge full of food. Normally, this would be a torture test. But now that I’m pregnant (remember that from the first paragraph?) I can kinda eat more than I’m used to. In fact, I’m actually eating for 2 – really! So I can nearly eat “as much as I want.” Sounds pretty great right? Of course, being pregnant is a lot more complex than “eating like a Gavoon” (Italian slang world for slob). But being able to eat is one of the great things you can do when you can’t drink, skydive or have Diet Coke. And to make sure my baby is nourished, I’m eating! I’m not counting points and I’m not really beating myself up over my food choices. However, I am trying to eat “real food” and I’m staying away from fast foods at all costs. The one thing I can report, is that my baby craves chocolate EVERY DAY. I like chocolate every now and then, but I swear, now I want Oreos ALL the time. Oreos, Entenmann’s chocolate donuts, Cadbury Creme Eggs, Jell-O chocolate mousse, M&Ms. You name it, I’ve eaten it in the last 19 weeks.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my 20th week of pregnancy and finally – I look like a pregnant woman. For the first 17 weeks or so, I just looked fat. Good ol’ chubby Marie. And I was eating like a Gavoon! Before everyone knew I was pregnant, they must have thought “Geez Marie is eating non-stop and really letting herself go!” Thinking that, was definitely not helping my self-esteem. I wanted to have a button on that said, “I’m not fat, I’m pregnant you asshole!” To let people know EXACTLY what was going on in my mind. Here’s the thing. I’ve been fat, I know what that feels like and I wasn’t exactly thrilled that people were thinking I was going back to that place. I can write page after page about how overweight/obese people are passed up for promotions at work, made fun of, and thought of as stupid and lazy all based on the amount of weight they carry. None of us want to admit that this is the state of things, but IT IS the state of things. And I have to admit the truth, I didn’t want to be included in that group.

Here’s the other nasty confession I have to make. This summer when I was “taking the summer off” I was actually “putting the pounds back on”. A summer of lazing by the beach and eating off the Ravioli fair truck at Seagate was making my bathing suits give me a wedgee. Around the beginning of October, Ran and I both were feeling disgusting realizing that our fall wardrobe was not fitting the same as last year. We took matters into our own hands and embarked on South Beach Diet phase 1 for 2 whole weeks. We ate crustless egg quiches and grilled chicken breasts. We nibbled on string cheese and baggies of pistachios. We had NO sweets, except for the occasional mound of ricotta cheese flavored with almond extract (Ran was not a big fan). We were even forced to go out to dinner a few times during those 2 weeks and we NEVER cheated. I have to say, we did really really great on this thing. I lost about 7 pounds and Ran 9. We really felt great. What do you think happened next?

Choose your own adventure – Affair with Cheese style. Marie and Ran went off the South Beach diet phase 1 and tried(!) to keep the pounds off. I was motivated, but Ran was pretty much over it. He was glad he lost the weight, but not really interested in continuing the journey. Pizza crept its way back into our life, so did Oreos and cheese on bread. I know (though I didn’t have the guts to weight myself) that the pounds were coming back. By the time I realized that, I also realized I was pregnant and any thoughts of dieting went out the window.

Luckily for us, our conception journey was very easy and happened about as quick as it can happen. Truly a blessing.

From the day I discovered I was expecting till about 5 weeks ago, I was a mess. I was morning sick all friggin day and my only refuge was when I was sleeping. Which, let me tell you, I wanted to do ALL the time. I was a zombie when I’d come home from work. In fact, I could barely get myself to work. It was a foggy 10 weeks or so. I was distracted, worried, excited, scared, tired, hungry, sick to my stomach and wondering if I could really handle this whole thing. Those were some intense emotions which would normally send me into a bit of an eating tail-spin (except for the nausea). Now that I’m out of the woods with all the morning sickness, I really have to watch what I’m eating. I need to truly be eating the way our bodies are meant to: Fruit and Vegetables with a bit of dairy/meat/carbs on the side. This is a hard thing to do. I’m Italian, we think a slice of pizza with mushrooms on top is a balanced meal. The challenge is on. I’m doing my best to snack on nuts, baby-bel cheese (for portion control), and fruit. I’ve been limiting my egg and cheese breakfast to 1x per week. I’m putting blueberries on my yogurt and granola in the morning. I’m trying, I swear.

I also haven’t asked or let the doctor tell me how much I’ve gained. I mean, is that the most important thing right now? I told the doctor, if there’s a problem – tell me. If there isn’t – don’t tell me. It’s not worth the headache. I need to be healthy now not counting every .2 on the scale. Keep your fingers crossed for me that this strategy doesn’t come back to bite me in the butt later on.

For now, I will focus on the journey of the next 20 weeks. In that short amount of time, we will finally get to meet our baby and I know she/he won’t think I’m fat. At least not for the first few years.

Hungry Heart

I often feel at my saddest moments that my heart has a hole in it and that nothing I can ever do can fill it back up again.  I keep trying though, I keep trying to fill it with all sorts of bad habits.  Shopping, watching TV, gossiping, and of course, eating.  One would think it would be more productive to try and fill it with good habits, so I’m working on that separately.  That’s why I write this blog, for instance.  We have an expression at Weight Watchers – of course I can’t remember exactly how it goes, but it’s something like “Are you hungry in your stomach or your heart?”

At first I used to think, “What’s the difference? I’m hungry, I want to eat now.”  (When hungry, I’m just a petulant child.)  Then I internalized that statement and sometimes when I have a little bit of will power and presence of mind, I ask myself that question, “Where are you hungry?”

Tonight, I can’t sleep.   No particular reason, just can’t seem to fall asleep. Tried reading in bed, tried turning off the light, even tried a little facebook and so far nothing has worked.  While sitting at my computer, I thought, “oh maybe I should eat something?”  Something with chocolate, something sweet, something to fill the hole in my heart.  Ugh, but I already brushed my teeth for the night and I don’t have anything good in the kitchen.  I just want to nibble, pass the time.  I sat at my computer and pondered this another moment. “Maybe you should write about this?”  Okay, I will.  Might as well, nothing else to do at 12:46.   I decided that I would write and I would eat.  I have about 10 cherries in my fridge.  Fresh, delicious, plump cherries.  Yes, I will eat those.  I nibbled, I wrote – it was nice.  So what are the “key learnings” here? (that’s something they would say at my job!) Key learnings:  1)don’t just eat because you feel empty, eat because you feel empty in your stomach.  2)No one ever got fat eating 10 cherries. 3)fill that hole with love, real love, not the love in a can of redi-whip – its fake whip cream and fake consolation for a black hole in your heart 4)go to bed Marie, it will all be alright in the morning

Call to action: Wedding dress stories needed

Hello Everyone,

I’m working on a piece about my own experience buying and fitting into my wedding dress.  I’m seeking information from real women about their own experience with wedding or bridesmaid dresses.  If you have answers to any of the following questions, please email me your responses at affairwithcheese@hotmail.com.  All answers can be kept confidential.

Thank you in advance!

~Marie

Questions to consider:

Did your wedding dress fit you the way you wanted on the day of your wedding?

Were you horrified at the thought of buying a dress 2 sizes bigger than usual?

Did you argue with the seamstress?

If so, about what?

Did you crash diet before your wedding?

If so, which diet?  And, did it work?

Were you disappointed when you saw pictures of yourself after the big day?

Did you feel fat the day of your wedding?