And you were so scared...

I'm feeling a little like Grover right now. (Quick! Name the book!)

Today's run was actually pretty darn good. It would have been pretty darn gooder if my gym's A/C had been on, but whatevs. The schedule (which I totally meant to link to in the last post and then totally forgot) called for me to run 5 minutes, walk 3, run 5, walk 3, and then run 5 more. The first 5 actually weren't all that bad. From the get-go, though, I used my towel to cover up the clock on the treadmill and just focused on the music on my iPod. The next 5 minutes was fine, too, but the last 5 was more of a struggle. About 2 minutes in I realized that no way in heck was the song that was on going to carry me for the rest of the time, so I quickly scrolled through my workout playlist (no easy feat when you're dealing with an armband whilst running, I might add), and found one of my go-to songs and made it through the rest of the run alive.

What song was it, you ask? Well, I'll tell you, I answer. It's called Is This the Way to Amarillo? Is that a country song, you ask? Why no, it's not, I answer. It's a song from the 70's, written by Neil Sedaka and sung by Tony Christie (though until I googled it, I would have sworn it was Tom Jones). Why, on earth, is this a song you even know of, let alone use as a power song while working out, you ask? Because of the greatest. reason. ever. (I answer.)

My husband forwarded me this 3 years ago, and ever since it has been a constant source of happiness to me. And because I like you so much, I hope you like it as much as I do:


Warning: contains a couple quick shots of some bums (of the naked kind, not homeless), so maybe don't watch if your mother-in-law's in the room (assuming she's anything like my mil, that is)

Smooth Move

You thought this was going to be about Ex-Lax, didn't you? Sorry to disappoint, but it's about my current biggest challenge on the weight-loss front. I'm moving! And homeless! And visiting friends and family! It's the perfect storm for not only *not* losing but for a full-on gaining fest!

We moved out of our house about 2 weeks ago, left California a week ago, and now we're on a prolonged farewell tour before we head off for Africa. Oh yeah, did I mention I'm moving to Africa? But since denial is my favorite coping mechanism, I'm remarkably calm about all that THAT'S going to entail; what I'm having the hardest time with right now is dealing with all the craziness the moving, homelessness, and visiting is wreaking on my attempt to exercise and eat well.

Here's what I've done right during all this:
***Asked my mom not to buy the cookies and sugar cereals she usually stocks up on before we visit--"for the kids"--because I know I can't control myself with those in the house.
***Brought my scale with me. Yes, I am toting a scale around in my luggage. You don't even want to know what the expression on my husband's face looked like when I told him it would be joining us. But see, I know me, and I know that if I don't have a way to consistently track my weight it becomes waaay too easy to fool myself into believing that "I'm doing fine; I can have this half a cake" or "I'm doing fine; exercising is not necessary!" The last time we moved, I was without a scale for 2 months, and in that time I managed to gain 17 pounds. Yes, 17. Granted, I was pregnant, but this was the first trimester! 17 pounds! Two months! So in order to prevent a recurrence of that lovely experience (p.s. NOT pregnant), I brought my scale, and I'm using to keep myself honest. My husband stopped shaking his head at me last week after we got to my mom's house (and I hadn't had access to the scale for a few days). I had just come off of a weekend of less-than-stellar eating and a long day of traveling, and I felt really huge and bloat-y. I was sure my weight was up, and I could feel myself slipping into that Screw It All mindset that tends to hang around when I'm already feeling liked I've messed up so bad there's no recovering and I might as well eat the house. Lo and behold, I got on the scale and discovered that I had actually LOST! 1.2 pounds! Woo! Bottom line is that I need me the accountability, so I'm doing what it takes (i.e. giving up precious weight in my luggage) to have it.
***Laying out my exercise clothes before I go to bed so that I can easily sneak out of the room without waking up the almost-two-year-old-that-doesn't-like-it-when-I-leave-him and get my walk in early before the day gets crazy.
***For almost a week now, I've been working on keeping up with my food journal. This is one of my biggest weaknesses and is almost always the first thing to go on the slippery slope to stuffing my face with crap. Consequently, my eating has been getting better. Perfect is never going to happen, so good and better is my aim.

I know I can do better though. I need to drink more water. My exercise can be more intense. I need to weight train.

Does anybody have some good tips for when you're traveling and/or when your life is just generally in a state of upheaval?

Rouge: It's not just for harlots anymore!

(Does anybody call it "rouge" anymore? )
I've been a little scruffy lately. Let me explain. I found myself sitting on the couch the other day (how did I get here?) watching What Not to Wear and thinking, as secret footage of a contestant was shown, "She went out of the house like that?" Then I glanced down at my baggy-kneed exercise pants (which had certainly not been used for exercise that day), ran my fingers through my lank, greasy hair and wondered if perhaps I ought to consider my own appearance for a wee moment. I am well aware that I have inner beauty in abundance, but perhaps masquerading as a homeless person is not the best way to let that shine. A pajama day every now and again is nice, but when it becomes a daily thing for me, the grub starts to take its toll on my psyche. I've noticed I'm a lot less likely to stuff handfuls of Cheetos (or chocolate chips or couch Skittles) in my mouth when I've pulled myself out of slob mode. Taking a shower, putting on clothes I didn't sleep in and even slapping on a little makeup--it can lift my spirits! Then again, the quarters people tossed in my purse on trips to the grocery store came in handy...