Vvvroooooooom.

The crisis is over. I am completely over feeling sorry for myself that I can't have candy, or cupcakes, or ice cream! The truth is, I can! I can eat whatever I want. There are however, consequences to my actions. If I eat like a fat-ass, I will get a fat ass. Plain and simple.

I have decided to head down the road of "not-fat-ass-ed-ness." I read somewhere that an extra 500 calories a day will lead to gaining one pound a week. Yikes! That’s only a few pieces of fun sized Halloween Candy! (Don't worry, I didn't miss out on the chocolate festivities.) One the other hand, burning an extra 500 calories a day, will equal losing one pound a week. I’ll take that one please.

Continuing on with this lame road theme I've got going here, I am hoping to get to FiveToGo Street by the time Turkey Day is here. My original goal was ZeroToGo Lane by then but I seem to be running on fumes. Honk.

Donut

I ate one.

Help, Help Please

Can somebody out there help me please? PLEASE! I have been at this weight now for about 6 weeks. I feel like giving up. I suppose I am just not meant to be any skinnier? I can tell you one thing though, I am not going to work this hard and eat this way just to MAINTAIN. It's not fucking worth it. It just isn't.

Can someone out there please help me? Or I quit.

Sticky Scale

I am having an issue with my scale. It seems to be stuck! I feel like I'm shrinking, but scale says I'm not, so I am convinced it's stuck. That's it, it's the scale! I will talk nice to it tonight and tell it to relax and then maybe it will un-stick itself. Yeah.

Overboard

I have a tendency to go overboard. It's no secret that the reason I gained weight was by going overboard. And today, big surprise, I went overboard. These last few days I have been determined to eat only low carb foods, so today when someone in the office ordered pizza I thought to myself, "Great! I can just eat the cheese off the top and be A-OK!" I have done this many times before and done just fine. Not today!

Today I went overboard! I hurried into the break room so I could select the two largest pieces of the yummy garlic chicken (everyone's favorite) and scurried back into my office so I could scrape the cheese off my pizza in peace. As I threw the pizza bones in the trash I realized I was in no shape or form full, so figured I could go get one more piece! So I did. But I didn't stop there. Imagine my delight when I realized there was one more piece of the garlic chicken left! You know that feeling you get when you see only one of your very favorite thing, like you better snatch it up and scream, "I GOT IT, IT'S MINE!"? That is how I felt. So I ate that piece too, and laid the last pizza bone to rest in the trash. (I even covered up the bones with a bunch of papers so no one would find the evidence and think I was (gasp) a pig!)

It wasn't until I was finished consuming a brick of cheese that I realized that even though I was eating low carb, I probably just consumed a gazillion calories! I obsessed about it the rest of the day and decided that the only thing I could do to melt the cheese was to have an "Epic Workout"

Here is another instance of me going overboard today! I told Maya I wanted to do cardio for an hour, and holy crap is an hour long! Jumping jacks was not the best idea at a time like that. As the cheese rolled around in my stomach, I thought to myself, "Why do I always have to go OVERBOARD?"

The moral of this story is always give your cat a kiss.

Compliment?

Sans: "Babe, your butt is looking great."

ElevenToGo: "Thanks!"

Sans: "No I mean it, it looks tighter, and has that little curve, and like it has a lot less..."

ElevenToGo: "Go ahead and say it."

Sans: "Celluilite."

Something every woman wishes to hear. I think?

Ketosis Focus

I am on a mission. My main focus is to be able to pee on that little stick and have it glow bright purple so I can declare: "I am in Ketosis!" In other words, I want my body to be burning fat for fuel. In order to do that, all the glucose in my body needs to be used up so I can switch to burning those fat reserves that like to hang out around my belly and gossip about my ass.

When people decided to go on a mission, they usually have a plan. Let me tell you, I have a two pronged attack for this mission.

Prong #1: I have hired a babysitter. I recruited the rudest, nastiest "food commenter" to check up on what I am eating. These are very special circumstances because I usually tell my "food commenter" to keep his comments to himself. On this occasion however, I have instructed him to scrutinize everything I eat, and basically baby-sit my lips. Luckily, he will be fired again once the stick glows purple.

Prong #2: I have purchased my very own personal trainer. Her name is Maya and she lives in my X-Box! How crazy is that? She is my very own yoga/pilates/aerobics instructor who looks amazingly realistic (she has moles and everything!) I may even be slightly attracted to her. Well, no. Maya gives you a fitness test to find out how in shape you are, then finds out your workout goals, and customizes workouts for you in order to help you reach your goals. Your workout is constantly changing and re-focusing so you can gain strength, flexibility, and hopefully lose those El Bees. I am hoping to have a long term relationship with her! OohLaLa.

I am ElevenToGo, and I approved this message.

Last Night AND This Morning

Alright, alright- Get your minds out of the gutter. No I am not referring to how many times I have schtupped my husband lately, I am talking about working out! After publicly declaring my intentions of working out more, I actually did it. It seems to me that by writing things out loud I tend to hold myself accountable.

After a scrum-diddly-uptious dinner at PF Chang's, I somehow managed to drag myself down to the gym and run for 40 minutes. I was so proud of myself that I said, "Self, why don't you wake up early and go to the gym?" Boo-ya, I did it. 45 more minutes on that treadmill. The whole time I was running, I couldn't help but hum the song "Let's get physical, physical, C'mon and get physicaaaaal" to myself the whole time. Then I thought to myself how horrible it would be if it were still prudent for women to wear those ridiculous sweat bands and leggings while working out. Not everyone can look as hot as Olivia Newton John in the "my-leotard-is-over-my-pants" look.



Let me hear your body talk?

Piggy Pep Talk

Today I am feeling totally rejuvenated. After my disappointing weigh in, I got a little bummed and had a few too many cookies. I fell off the exercise wagon for a bit, but I am ready to get back on! I realized yesterday that there is only 6 weeks until Thanksgiving. Turkey Day was my unofficial deadline for my goal weight so I figure I better kick my ass into gear if I want to make it.

I am making a few new resolutions. First of all, I want to pay better attention to what the hell it is that I am eating. I have a tendency to grab handfuls and handfuls of crack chips and before I know it I've probably eaten 20 carbs.

I have also reminded myself why it is that I want to lose weight. I know that I will feel so good about myself once I've made it to my goal weight. The only way to get there is by exercising more! I am going to start weekly exercise goals that focus on the total number of minutes I should work out each week. 120 minutes or so of exercise a week should start me off right!

Phew, A little pep talk to myself if just what I needed.
Ra, Ra, Shish-Boom-Ba, go me.

Sans Arm?

I do not have good news to report today. Today was the official weigh in, and sadly I did not lose any weight. I was pretty pissed off this morning, but as of right now I'm over it. I am telling myself that it's because I gained muscle, and even though I might not have lost any fat, well that's just too damn bad.

I am not however, taking this as a sign that I should give up. No one ever said it would be easy to lose weight. This is a slow process, especially since I am doing it the healthy way. I do feel healthier and more confident and that's all I can ask for so far.

I have bigger things to worry about as of now then my weight. My poor, poor kitty is really in a tough spot. She has had her cast on now for almost two months and unfortunately, her arm is not healing at all. In fact, it is the same as day one when we broke it!

We are at a point right now where we have to make a very tough decision. Surgery is inevitable. And beyond the expense of such an endeavor, we have to decide what type of surgery to have. Unfortunately, amputation is one of the choices. I am just hoping, it doesn't turn out to be the best choice for Jill.

The other option we have is a procedure that would place pins inside her arm, with an external fixture that would support the pins. That means she would have an apparatus sticking out of her bloody arm for who knows how long. It would also mean that she would have to have some sort of follow up procedure to remove the apparatus. It was also include rehabilitation of the arm, and possible complications from surgery that could ultimately result in amputation anyway. Now you see our dilemma. We want to save her arm, but if it's just not possible for our poor kitty, we will have to accept that. I have heard stories of plenty of happy three legged kitties. Let's just hope Jilley girl doesn't have to be one of those.

El Bees*

Long time no talk, little blog-o-mine. I take it as a good sign that I have not been resting my dreary head on the shoulder of my blog. I started this blog as a chronicle of my weight loss journey. At the beginning, it was hard to get through each day without feeling sorry for myself that I couldn't eat doughnuts in the break room! Lately though, it has been a different story. The eating habits I have been forming have become just that, habits. I don't crave the carbs like I used to, now I just crave my crack chips, and my low carb granola cereal with brainberries on it in the morning!

Let us not forget though that I still have ElevenToGo. In fact, my next weigh in day is being moved up to Friday to accommodate the Family Reunion. I am HOPING that I lost a few more El Bees*. Now that it's been awhile that I've been "skinner", it's much harder to tell when I've dropped a few pounds. I can tell however, that my chi-chi's have shrunk considerably. Damn.

Spirograph