Eighth Weigh-in

Whoohoo! I'm down 1.2 lbs this week for a total of 10.6 lbs lost. I'm now over the half-way mark to my 10% goal! I received another 5lbs sticker and immediately stuck it to my bookmark.

Note for next week: sit on the right side of the meeting. That's where I usually sit but today I had to bail early.

The left side lacks some serious enthusiasm. Where the right side folks were giving serious kudos and claps during all the sticker handouts, the left side was barely moving. Most didn't clap and the few that did, looked like they were dabbing hand lotion on or something.

So, I took up the cause and clapped as loud and as enthusiastically as I could. I swear, some folks on the left side mentally nudged their chairs away from me. Ha! Well, next time I'll go back to sitting on the right side. We know how to party on the right side!

PS
I've already planned my 10lb reward. I can't say what it is only that I've decided to treat my ninja husband at the same time. He knows we have a date next week, he just doesn't know what for!

I ♥ Becel Spray

My new favourite food find is Becel Topping & Cooking Spray. I was a little leary about it but plenty of the gals over at the WeightWatchers.ca forums seem to love it. So, I bought some about a week ago.

I've only used it on toast so far and have to say: this stuff is fabu. I usually eat my toast dry; I got tired of measuring out margarine and spending five minutes trying to make what little I had cover the entire face of the bread. With a few spritzes of this Becel Spray, woot! Good coverage and instant flavour without the fuss and without measuring.

I've heard it's also good on popcorn and vegetables. I'll have to do some more experimenting. For now, I'm just tickled pink that I won't have to eat dry toast anymore if I don't want to.

PS
Did I mention? As near as I can figure, it has no points. Whoo!

Beware of blog-reading ninja husbands

In his spare time, my husband is a ninja. I was beginning to think that he had stopped reading my blog because I had heard nothing from him with regards to my Danish exploits. However, knowing that he is a ninja – even a part-time ninja – I should've suspected something.

This morning, my scale is gone again.

I asked him about it to which he replied "What scale?" Sometimes I think I should've had full-disclosure before I married him. I.e., "I'm a ninja and I'll be able to get away with lots of things because I'm sneaky and can hide in empty rooms."

I bet my scale really is in Denmark this time.

Exercise in the mornings will not kill you but the cat might

Yesterday I took on a challenge posed by one of the WeightWatchers.ca forum members: get up early and exercise. If you knew me, you'd know that's a tall order. Get up early??? At the best of times, I'll schlup my way out of bed at about 7:20 a.m. despite having to leave the house at 7:30 for work. Alarms and hungry Siamese cats do nothing to hasten the process.

But, I did it. Got my tush out of bed at the ungodly hour of 6:34 a.m. and did my 30 minute WATP DVD. And you know what? I learned a few things.

1. Exercising early in the morning really does lead to increased energy throughout the day; and
2. If you don't feed the cats before exercising, they tend to get involved in whatever workout routine you're doing regardless of whether or not it helps or is, by any stretch of the imagination, safe for you or them.
   

Because I feel so good now, I took on the challenge again for tomorrow morning. Maybe one of these days I'll turn into a morning person?

Greetings from Denmark

While I'd like to pretend that my missing scale is living it up in Copenhagen, I must confess to a secret. I know where my scale is. To my husband who will undoubtedly tickle me to within an inch of my life, please be merciful. In fact, if you check now, the scale is not where you left it.

However! In my defence, I've been very good about it. I snuck a peek one day mid-week. Mentally berated myeslf and then put it back, vowing to only weigh once a week on official weigh-in day. Since then, I've been a peach. Except...I kinda forgot to put it back last Saturday.

Please don't tickle me.

Oh, and you'll be glad to know that I've convinced myself out of buying a new scale that tracks decimal figures, body fat and so on. I figgered it was no good for me to keep focusing on the scale when I can spend the exact same amount of money and get a nice workout top that I've been eyeballing. I think I'll order it after my 12th workout at Curves as a mini-reward.

Oh, and did I mention? Please don't tickle me.

Here's to the sweaters

I'm a sweater. No, not the fuzzy pink, periwinkle and brown sweater that your grandmother knits you in a misguided attempt at fashion. Rather, the kind of sweater that perspires going up stairs.

I've learned to suck it up, especially at Curves. Four machines in, and I can feel the sweat start to dribble. What makes it worse is I seem to be the only sweater there.

Well tonight I found out I was not alone. There was another sweater on the circuit. She was working the machines as hard as I was. But most importantly, she was sweating. I wanted to give her a hug. Here was a lovely young lady working out and sweating just as much as me, the overweight 32-year old.

I kept stealing looks at her. Not in a "hahahaha, you sweat just as much as I do" sort of way. But rather in a "wow, there's someone just like me!" sort of way. It was inspiring and I worked harder (and sweated harder) because of it.

So here's to you, my fellow sweater. May our grandmothers creations always be wearable in public.

Two months is a long time

I've been thinking about the last two months and how the time has flown and yet crawled at the same time. Along with that line of thought, I've been reflecting on my weight loss so far.

I won't pretend that losing slowly is an awesome fun-time feeling. It's disheartening. My mind casts ahead, doing mental calculations, and arrives at a date in the far far future when all the weight will be gone. "It'll take more than a year," that calculating mind of mine says. It's like I'm five years old again and a year was an unendurable eternity.

My logical mind can accept that it's going to take what it's going to take. It's my five year old self that I need to convince and to some degree, agree with.

In my almost two months on the plan, I've worked hard. It wasn't just following the plan or exercising more. There was more to it than that. Fighting emotions, cravings, being committed when everything else just wanted to let go. It was harder than I give myself credit for. And it's going to be just as hard in the months and yes, in the year, ahead.

So to my five-year old self, why yes, two months is a long time. What say we do something extra special when those two months are up?