tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34881912682528162802024-03-20T16:39:54.036-07:00Jen's 40 by 40My journey to lose 40 pounds by my 40th birthdayJenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-1174250184123714252010-11-05T00:20:00.000-07:002010-11-05T08:24:24.539-07:00It's All About "I"So, I recently took an online self assessment that coincided with People Skills training that I took today at San Francisco State as part of a professional development course offered through CSU system. The assessment ranked participants on one of four behavioral styles: 1) dominant, 2) interactive, 3) compliant and 4) steady.<br />
<br />
My results showed me scoring literally as high as you can in one behavioral style. For those of you who work closely with me currently and those who know me the longest, it's probably pretty easy to figure me out. But, just for fun, here are the four brief summaries of the beharioral styles*. See if you can find yourself in these. But, more importantly (hint, hint), see if you can find me:<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Dominant Style </u></strong><br />
Dominants are time-sensitive; so don’t waste their time. Be organized and get to the point. Give them relevant information and options, with probabilities of success. Give them written details to read at their leisure – all on a single page. The Dominant Styles are goal-oriented, so appeal to their sense of accomplishment. Stroke their egos by supporting their ideas and acknowledge their power and prestige. Let the D Style call the shots. If you disagree, argue with facts, not feelings. In groups, allow them to have their say because they are not the type who will take a back seat to others.<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Interactive Style (I)</u></strong><br />
Interactive Styles thrive on personal recognition, so pour it on sincerely. Support their ideas, goals, opinions, and dreams. Try not to argue with their pie-in-the-sky visions; get excited about them. The I Styles are social-butterflies, so be ready to flutter around with them. A strong presence, stimulating and entertaining conversation, jokes, and liveliness will win them over. They are people-oriented, so give them time to socialize. Avoid rushing into tasks. With the Interactive Styles, in general, be interested in them.<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Steady Style (S)</u></strong><br />
Steady Styles are relationship-oriented and want warm and fuzzy relationships, so take things slow, earn their trust, support their feelings, and show sincere interest. Talk in terms of feelings, not facts. The S Styles don't want to ruffle feathers. They want to be assured that everyone will approve of them and their decisions. Give them time to solicit co-workers' opinions. Never back a Steady Style into a corner. It is far more effective to apply warmth to get this chicken out of its egg than to crack the shell with a hammer. With the Steady Style, in general, be non-threatening and sincere.<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Compliant Style (C)</u></strong><br />
Compliants are time-disciplined, so be sensitive to their schedules. They need details, so give them data. They are task-oriented; so don't expect to become their friend before working with them. Friendship may develop later, but, unlike the Interactive Styles, it is not a prerequisite. Support the Compliant Styles in their organized, thoughtful approach to problem solving. Be systematic, logical, well prepared, and exact with them. Give them time to make decisions and work independently. The Compliant Styles like to be complimented on their brainpower, so recognize their contributions accordingly. With the Compliant Styles, in general, be thorough, well prepared, detail-oriented, business-like, and patient.<br />
<br />
Okay, so, what do you think <em>my</em> dominant behavioral style is? Drumroll please.....<br />
<br />
Seriously, I scored so high at the top of the chart of an Interactive that it's not even funny. Well, actually it is. And, honestly, it's why the blog format I chose to keep me motivated on my weight loss goal has worked so well for me. I'm a people pleaser, plain and simple. I need my little bits of encouragement. My star stickers and applause at my Weight Watchers meetings for every weight loss milestone. The "Atta Girl's" I've been thriving off, thanks to all of you who have been supporting me during my 8 months of weight loss. And, in turn, I enjoy giving the "Atta Girls" right back to my "girls" who are battling the bulge right alongside me.<br />
<br />
It's the energy of the interaction that keeps me going. But, it's also the same social tendency that had me tipping the scales in the first place! <br />
<br />
Perhaps the funniest part of today's session was when the instructor showed us four comic strips. One of the comic strips featured was one my co-worker was convinced was indicative of my Interactive style. It was a comic that showed a woman with stacks of sandwiches on the counter all around her. In the comic, she shares with the man -- presumably her husband -- "Aren't you pleased? I made you a sandwich for every day of the year!"<br />
<br />
My colleague said that's the Interactive Style because she's a people pleaser. In her defense, others in the room agreed. However, I argued that the Interactive was the next comic over; the one with the person saying, "Wow, it says it's new and improved, it must be great!" <br />
<br />
When the instructor shared with us what I knew, that the sandwich-maker was the "Steady" personality style, she asked for an "Interactive" to share why this wasn't indicative of their style. Promptly, I raised my hand and said, "An Interactive would <em>NEVER</em> take the time to make all of those sandwiches!" The leader, an Interactive herself, said, "Exactly! An Interactive would say, 'Heck with that, let's go out to dinner!'"<br />
<br />
And therein lies the explanation of why my tendencies for socialization and eating out got me into my weight gain mess originally. And, it's also why the blog format for my personality style has helped me take the weight off.<br />
<br />
Immediately after the training session, I got in the car to battle the traffic to head back to Benicia for my son's soccer team's final practice, which is traditionally the parents vs. kids soccer game. And, yes, as Interactives tend to be, I was a little late. About 15 minutes, to be exact. I'll blame it on the Bay Area traffic, but my colleague knows we were also roaming around San Francisco State in search of the perfect snack and beverage for our car ride home. A pork bun and large Diet Coke later, we braved the traffic and I arrived about 15 minutes late to the parents vs. kids soccer game.<br />
<br />
I was so ready for the competition. My husband worried that I would land myself into the ER. I assured him I would be fine and requested, as a good Interactive should, "Please take pictures for my blog." <br />
<br />
Not to brag (yeah, right), I scored the first goal of the game. It was definitely a team effort, but I sealed the deal and did a somewhat reserved victory dance that, nevertheless, mortified my 10-year-old son. It was obvious to me that my Interactive, people-pleasing self was very much satisfied by my success. But, we were dealing with 10-, 11- and 12-year-olds and I knew it was more important that they win. <br />
<br />
That didn't stop me from assisting in one more goal for the parents. I kicked the ball to the mid section just before the goal (don't know the right terminology, but those details aren't important), at which point one of the father's of one of the kids headed it into the goal. Nice! <br />
<br />
But, the kids came back with three goals, two of which were scored by our son, Will. Guess that's the next best thing to doing it yourself, right? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HFkiaQ-jaF5-0CQYgNv0YL27eys83MBebDyXYKKvS3MhHjheHNRzq88dp78ZTII0EHRt1CbpnrnOPxx29eZspZ3rm1M2Ifw3UsoGjtXUIxWcw9Im1AiQoKSpoWMppvsS7ZK9NqfbwAM/s1600/11+04+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HFkiaQ-jaF5-0CQYgNv0YL27eys83MBebDyXYKKvS3MhHjheHNRzq88dp78ZTII0EHRt1CbpnrnOPxx29eZspZ3rm1M2Ifw3UsoGjtXUIxWcw9Im1AiQoKSpoWMppvsS7ZK9NqfbwAM/s320/11+04+10.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>Our son attributes my goal-scoring skills to him. I see it a little bit differently:-)</em></span></div><br />
So, the last couple of weeks have been tougher to stay on track on my diet, primarily because of Halloween and social engagements over the past two weekends. I've gained .5 pounds over the past two weeks, leaving me with three pounds more to go before I reach my 40 pound weight loss goal. <br />
<br />
Until next week,<br />
<em><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Jen</span></em><br />
<br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">* <span style="font-family: inherit;">See how compliant I'm being by noting the following attribution: Copyright © 2010 Alessandra & Associates, Inc.?</span></span></em>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-64654244834865383802010-10-21T23:01:00.000-07:002010-10-21T23:10:19.647-07:00A Walk Down Memory LaneSometimes I find myself getting a little nostalgic. This week has been one of those times for a number of reasons.<br />
<br />
First, it's my mom's birthday tomorrow (today by the time many of you read this). As most of my blog followers know, my mom passed away in January after a very long and difficult illness. We took the kids up to Grass Valley last weekend to leave flowers at the spot where we scattered her ashes. Grass Valley was one of her favorite places, and for many years it was her childhood home. She still has relatives there, including her cousin and her husband, as well as her aunt and uncle. We spent the afternoon with them, visited the site, enjoyed lunch and reminisced.<br />
<br />
It was the first time we visited the spot with the kids. It rained, which was a bummer but also fitting, so we couldn't stay long. We did stay long enough for the kids (and my husband) to enjoy the Halloween Oreo cookies that my mom's cousin brought up with us, along with a quart of milk. Being so close to my 40-pound weight loss goal, I didn't partake in the indulgence. <br />
<br />
I took what is one of my all-time favorite pictures of the kids that afternoon. They had Oreo cookies -- with bright orange frosting -- stuck in their teeth, so I asked them to smile with their mouths closed. I love this picture and hope mom was smiling down on us as she watched the kids enjoying their cookies, milk and each other after they each laid a flower down for her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZR_Sd7u9nQSwn_-l3So8cDDRpaBfWASu7Hf96Vh3mmVBWGdBUDFkArpYJr8nKfSDW2hnkubrxFYFzbMcvN8XdXkKh-lqIaBkHVI0GKq0rx3fO8GxGwCSGrtofxPV8yrnN50fSVMZW6aY/s1600/IMG_9650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZR_Sd7u9nQSwn_-l3So8cDDRpaBfWASu7Hf96Vh3mmVBWGdBUDFkArpYJr8nKfSDW2hnkubrxFYFzbMcvN8XdXkKh-lqIaBkHVI0GKq0rx3fO8GxGwCSGrtofxPV8yrnN50fSVMZW6aY/s320/IMG_9650.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I've also reconnected this week on Facebook with several of my elementary school-aged friends, something prompted by me being "tagged" in a 5th grade class picture from John Cabrillo Elementary School in Sacramento. The original post, which was made by a classmate who I am now friends with on Facebook, had "dunno" as the caption for me, something I gave him a bit of a hard time about given I thought I was somewhat more memorable than that.<br />
<br />
He promptly told me that he just couldn't remember my name, but remembered that I was Christen's friend. Of couse he did. All the boys knew Christen, who was my best friend from Kindergarten through high school. Sometimes (actually a lot of times) I felt very much in her shadow, especially because a lot of the boys had crushes on her. I distinctly remember my mom telling me -- in elementary school, no less -- that the boys like her because she has "bedroom eyes." She added that my eyes are more "Let's go out and play basketball" eyes. I recognize that it's a bit of an unusual comment for a mom to say to her fifth grade daughter, but she was right. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-FZz0HIQF3dT0rd3nuGgPMF6zH0nf0DxKsU7i3069uTWpNXLSsOGZTr375zBCxUlbK_cjjdY17x-QExqDDzO_B-TPeckm4xpKii2GkjmsrWy_5zfEfQGqhYJM0FHazNnl6PPre0eMC4/s1600/Jens+5th+grade+class+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-FZz0HIQF3dT0rd3nuGgPMF6zH0nf0DxKsU7i3069uTWpNXLSsOGZTr375zBCxUlbK_cjjdY17x-QExqDDzO_B-TPeckm4xpKii2GkjmsrWy_5zfEfQGqhYJM0FHazNnl6PPre0eMC4/s320/Jens+5th+grade+class+pic.jpg" width="232" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">In this fifth grade class picture. I'm the one in the yellow snoopy shirt on the far right in the second row. </span></strong></em><em><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Christen is in the fourth row, smack dab in the middle. </span></strong></em><em><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">I have to say, it was probably not only the eyes, </span></strong></em><em><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">but the amazing feathered hair that caught the boys' attention.</span></strong></em></td></tr>
</tbody></table>So it struck me funny when my fellow elementary school buddy and my new Facebook buddy, Annette, today commented online how she remembers she and I would get in trouble because we wouldn't go to the library with the girls, but would instead go play football with the boys.<br />
<br />
Now I will let you in on a little secret. While I was very much a genuine tomboy growing up, by fifth grade, I believe my primary motivation for playing football with the boys may have indeed been the possibility of an accidental tackle now and then. But I digress.<br />
<br />
So as a tribute to my childhood and my week's walk down memory land, I would like to list my Top 10 favorite memories from my youth:<br />
<ol><li>Hello Kitty</li>
<li>Trading stickers</li>
<li>The ice cream truck</li>
<li>Atari</li>
<li>Hopscotch with chicken rings (do you know, my son doesn't even know what chicken rings are?? I guess they use rocks now).</li>
<li>Must-have accessory? Comb in the back pocket!</li>
<li>Roller Skating at Cal Skate (and, <em>yes</em>, the boys would ALWAYS ask Christen to couples skate, while I stood on the sidelines)</li>
<li>My friend Christen's car, a red VW bug convertable with a black top, broke down on the way to high school on what was "Nerd" dress up day. She dressed up; I didn't. She ended up having to get out in traffic and push the car (with taped, horn-rimmed glasses, plaid skirt, knee high socks and all), while I steered us to safety. </li>
<li>Going to my very first concert, Wham!, with Christen and our moms</li>
<li>The day my longest friend and neighbor, Barbara, came to my house after school with one side of her formerly long hair buzzed with a cross shaved into it. The other half remained long. She was in high school at the time, and she'd had a dream about this particular style and decided to go ahead and do it without getting permission from her parents. She asked me to come home with her because she didn't think her mom would yell at her if I was there. It was her parents' anniversary. With a bouquet of flowers in her hand and me by her side, poor Barbara opened the front door to a very surprised mother who very promptly and sternly asked me to go home. That was the <em>only</em> time Dorothea ever asked me to leave their home.</li>
</ol>To all my childhood friends: Love you guys and am so glad for Facebook to have a chance to reconnect with you. <br />
<br />
To my mom: Happy Birthday and I miss you terribly. <br />
<br />
To my faithful followers of my journey to lose 40 pounds by my 40th Birthday(ish): I am pleased to report that I'm down another pound this week, thanks to Weight Watchers and putting in some more time at the gym. This brings my total weight loss to 37.5 pounds.<br />
<br />
2.5 pounds to go! Here's this week's picture:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9azy6u1UB1EXxkg3Icj76atJGrVXlDFYrl_G43JwFLOaToOqgemHjwcR8t2tlAF5J05uH1UMh-AieBta8EJlIHpzQaUMJIU4DM881QsBUm-XadbJ9m1dSfwPEZhGcSWt_3Tsz2dTZk8/s1600/10+21+10+40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9azy6u1UB1EXxkg3Icj76atJGrVXlDFYrl_G43JwFLOaToOqgemHjwcR8t2tlAF5J05uH1UMh-AieBta8EJlIHpzQaUMJIU4DM881QsBUm-XadbJ9m1dSfwPEZhGcSWt_3Tsz2dTZk8/s320/10+21+10+40+by+40+pic.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Until Next Week,<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><em>Jen</em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-74626115540798789822010-10-14T21:19:00.000-07:002010-10-14T23:29:25.166-07:00Better Late Than NeverFor those of you who know me, you'll know that I tend to like to be fashionably late. Sometimes, I'm really really fashionable. This started early in life for me. I will have to ask Melody, my mom's cousin who was 14 years old at my birth, to confirm my facts because she likes to remind me of them, but I was born nearly two weeks past my due date. Melody knows because she stayed with my parents for a week or so near the anticipated time of my birth, and she was so disappointed that I decided not to be born until after she had already gone back home. I must have hit the womb-snooze button just a few too many times. It gets me every time!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUQONVCmzyWg4_vZUJ29CX95PCiNAmPO-aDnqd1jZr_ssT7t0jkGqmwQ-2pLKPYhiTxbEuMtonwdPBl4JkdvOBC347I7_UpHkAAFxi02MstWlMSNoT8V_6-2CA1AUYTMV4yk5nuYy9aM/s1600/Jen+Baby+Pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUQONVCmzyWg4_vZUJ29CX95PCiNAmPO-aDnqd1jZr_ssT7t0jkGqmwQ-2pLKPYhiTxbEuMtonwdPBl4JkdvOBC347I7_UpHkAAFxi02MstWlMSNoT8V_6-2CA1AUYTMV4yk5nuYy9aM/s320/Jen+Baby+Pic.jpg" width="244" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Little chubby "Jen Jen," as my Grandma used to call me, at three months old.</span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Well, as most of you who read my blog anticipate April 15th as tax day, for the last couple of years, I've opted to file an extension, allowing me to work down to the wire and submit our taxes by October 15th. Well, part of this reason is that for some godforsaken reason, we got hit hard last year on our taxes and currently still owe $800 to the IRS (we're on the lovely payment plan). Well, I wasn't in a big hurry to find out how things would go this year, so I lived in the Land of Denial for a few extra months. </div><br />
This morning, my husband and I were greeted with an early morning e-mail from our accountant. Good news, our taxes are finally filed. Bad news, we now owe just over $3,000 more in taxes between the State and Federal governments. And frankly, I'm not even sure how that happened as my colleagues and I took a 10 percent paycut with mandatory furloughs last year. Talk about adding insult to injury!<br />
<br />
This fiscal fiasco caused my husband and me to reminisce about the days, pre-children, when we lived in my grandparents' old house on V Street in Sacramento just after we were married. My dad was the landlord and we only paid $500/month in rent for a cute little 2 bedroom, one bath home. We both worked in media, and had 2:30 - 11:30 p.m. shifts. (He was a media analyst at a news monitoring service and I was a videotape editor for the 5:00, 6:00 and 11:00 p.m. newscasts at the CBS affiliate.) <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcItzO4abQvj4Lg-71ZOtx4Nb520nDaZRKRsll8b0nORGvBbRT1Mz131oI6Umj4s4wi1unMLM_0E2zD37_KW8jF3lycfanw_jskRn2pSpT5kNjpeXcJXxydJDPqvNQiNh7PGafdBpmBw/s1600/Honeymooning+in+Hawaii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcItzO4abQvj4Lg-71ZOtx4Nb520nDaZRKRsll8b0nORGvBbRT1Mz131oI6Umj4s4wi1unMLM_0E2zD37_KW8jF3lycfanw_jskRn2pSpT5kNjpeXcJXxydJDPqvNQiNh7PGafdBpmBw/s320/Honeymooning+in+Hawaii.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jen and Christian in the "good 'ol days" honeymooning in Hawaii</span></em></div><br />
My husband and I agree that this shift was the best we've ever had. We'd wake up at 10:00 a.m.. Go out to lunch. (Our favorite lunch hotspot was Original Pete's on J Street, where we would order the lunch special that included a side salad and personal pizza, for which we would always order a side of Ranch dressing to dip it in.) We would then go to work, get home at around midnight, and watch David Letterman and Conan O'Brien before heading to bed at around 2:00 a.m. Then we'd start all over again the next day.<br />
<br />
In those days, we could carry on a conversation at the dinner table without being interrupted. We could go to the movies at a moment's notice. I had the metabolism to support my pizza and Ranch dressing addiction. And we <em>always </em>got a tax refund.<br />
<br />
Of course, it goes without saying that we wouldn't give up our two beautiful children, hectic lifestyle that comes with being working parents, and toy-strewn hardwood floors that so desperately need refinishing for the life we led back then. <br />
<br />
But, I wouldn't mind getting that metabolism back.<br />
<br />
However, I will say, that today (and featured in the picture below) I wore the very same skirt that I purchased to wear to my bridal shower more than 14 years ago. It's a size 6. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJFFJ7wQiUlYXkR3gO_S9_-Qr5FkpLT-YBA3kRQGnZmQZd-8z-OVYfZ6equxlmZ1a1hISUoVxPOKMjrPZd3hXP3e7aeLyfcynlzXA3VgRI8lvFYv6-1HnRKfOaA6T8fNOJ5O1NQF90Cg/s1600/IMG_9590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJFFJ7wQiUlYXkR3gO_S9_-Qr5FkpLT-YBA3kRQGnZmQZd-8z-OVYfZ6equxlmZ1a1hISUoVxPOKMjrPZd3hXP3e7aeLyfcynlzXA3VgRI8lvFYv6-1HnRKfOaA6T8fNOJ5O1NQF90Cg/s320/IMG_9590.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Take <em>that</em>, Internal Revenue Service! I'm now 3.5 pounds away from my 40-pound weight loss goal. <br />
<br />
And yes, I'm going to miss my new 40-pound weight loss deadline of October 15th. But as Melody can attest, I will get there....eventually!<br />
<br />
Until Next Time,<br />
<em><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Jen</span></em>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-23366520895872723262010-10-07T21:54:00.000-07:002010-10-07T21:57:24.953-07:00Weigh It ForwardWhen I originally thought of the concept of creating my Jen's 40 by 40 blog, my single intent was to provide a venue that would hold me publicly accountable to stick to my diet. At the time, I couldn't think of any other way to motivate myself. Turns out, I was right. And now I'm only five pounds away from my 40-pound weight loss goal.<br />
<br />
But what has proven to be the most surprising part of my blubber battle on the blogosphere is how many other people it has motivated to battle their own bulge.<br />
<br />
I received quite a surprise last week when my friend Katie, who had just celebrated her 30th birthday, posted her own blog link to my Facebook page. I originally turned to Katie, who lives in Portland, when I first thought of starting my blog back in February. She had been blogging for a while at that time, and was able to give me some pointers on getting my own blog started. She's been a faithful follower of my efforts, and has been one of my greatest cheerleaders. <br />
<br />
Her blog post for last week was entitled "30 by 30." Inspired by my own effort, she decided to begin following Weight Watchers and started her own exercise program. By her 30th birthday (she makes me feel so old), she had been successful in losing 32 pounds! It was amazing to see her before and after picture and it literally made my day.<br />
<br />
But then it got better. I posted her blog link on my own Facebook page. And my friend Patricia commented that she's hoping to have a similar story to share by her December 31st birthday. Turns out Patricia, who also followed my lead and enrolled in Weight Watchers, has already lost four inches off of her waist and is down a pant size. Way to go Patricia!<br />
<br />
<span data-jsid="text">Then a colleague of mine, Kay, commented on my Facebook page, "She's not the only one who was inspired by your efforts. Your blog was very instrumental in my getting on the weight control bandwagon." </span><span data-jsid="text">Kay, by the way, is looking fabulous and just has this great glow about her now.</span><br />
<br />
<span data-jsid="text">And then, another colleague of Kay's and mine chimed in saying that both Kay and I have motivated her to get healthier.</span><br />
<br />
<span data-jsid="text">In addition to these fabulous women, my sister-in-law, Cheryl, who began going to Weight Watchers and hiking regularly after following my 40 by 40 efforts, recently e-mailed me to let me know she has lost 18 pounds!</span><br />
<br />
<span data-jsid="text">It occurred to me that, much like the movie "Pay it Forward," I had started my own "Weigh it Forward" effort. It's been quite an unexpected outcome, and I guess that's why it feels so good. Almost as good as fitting into a Size 8 again.</span><br />
<br />
<span data-jsid="text">And I have not doubt that Katie, Patricia, Kay and Cheryl will also inspire others and "Weigh it Forward" themselves. Way to go ladies, and keep up the great work! You're all helping to keep me motivated to shake these final five pounds.</span><br />
<br />
<span data-jsid="text">Here's this week's picture:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLVogY6DVcsTtAz8c6xN6e9qBlq7N7YOzWawWb7y3I7Nke2aXFjevdfrQ9GF7baiIsSCqSj0nwnGZXfsgUCOX5F29no9eXdWERSbVJTfrh8uuBJ3hl1HcLPUEH6X89Elh0UqVkzEukVo/s1600/40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLVogY6DVcsTtAz8c6xN6e9qBlq7N7YOzWawWb7y3I7Nke2aXFjevdfrQ9GF7baiIsSCqSj0nwnGZXfsgUCOX5F29no9eXdWERSbVJTfrh8uuBJ3hl1HcLPUEH6X89Elh0UqVkzEukVo/s320/40+by+40+pic.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><br />
<span data-jsid="text">Until next time,</span><br />
<span data-jsid="text"><em><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Jen</span></em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-22928068331131132052010-09-23T21:28:00.000-07:002010-09-23T21:54:34.192-07:00National Imperfection DayIn my mind I started with one concept for today's blog post. But a dinner discussion this evening got me thinking about another.<br />
<br />
My husband, who teaches a fourth/fifth-grade combo class at an elementary school jokingly shared with our son that he used him as an example in class today. Apparently, today is National Imperfection Day, which prompted my husband to assign his students a journal project in which they list one of their imperfections, embrace it, realize we're not perfect, and then also discuss how they can improve.<br />
<br />
As an example, he shared that our son Will, a fifth grader, has this really unusual ability to get a "milk-mustache" every single time he takes a sip of something. The crazy thing is, he even gets a milk (or punch) mustache after drinking out of a straw! I honestly don't know how he does it, and we have a running joke between the two of us about "having a lot of work to do before prom."<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWB2j9yvS5Adn38vtdIbpdRWfqWeONZZR3E51Dj_xPWpJFcTXyICF1byESqwM1b4TvShyphenhyphenphhZ9QNmiNgwTY7EGhB5D3VWaOmTHGK2pIh7dBMnGRlVL5n4mrr9yG_0kFifiq8ReDTaHU5M/s1600/IMG_9556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWB2j9yvS5Adn38vtdIbpdRWfqWeONZZR3E51Dj_xPWpJFcTXyICF1byESqwM1b4TvShyphenhyphenphhZ9QNmiNgwTY7EGhB5D3VWaOmTHGK2pIh7dBMnGRlVL5n4mrr9yG_0kFifiq8ReDTaHU5M/s320/IMG_9556.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6BUV5y914iyyIZhC_xtaLUskkcqYnvmrnN1vMxoizqAJYwXg4x69A1pvbZsQMJwDaMTDi96FNoNvQ9D5woFuXs_zMDc-_y7onOAKyVLxfDyJBVXRaEtiRHZprP4qyRFNwkD4wsNmafg/s1600/IMG_9559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6BUV5y914iyyIZhC_xtaLUskkcqYnvmrnN1vMxoizqAJYwXg4x69A1pvbZsQMJwDaMTDi96FNoNvQ9D5woFuXs_zMDc-_y7onOAKyVLxfDyJBVXRaEtiRHZprP4qyRFNwkD4wsNmafg/s320/IMG_9559.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Got Milk?</span></em></div><br />
I began to realize my son's tendency to get beverages and food all over his face was somewhat unique to him when I volunteered in his class a couple of years ago. It was a class party and all the kids were eating cupcakes that I made. At some point in the party, I notice chocolate frosting all over Will's face. I promptly grabbed the napkins to pass along to the class, thinking all of them would need to tidy up. But it wasn't long before I realized that my child was the <em>ONLY</em> one in the class that had chocolate all over his face.<br />
<br />
We laughed about his tendency, and it became funnier when we realized that Will actually knows a few of my husband's students from various athletic teams he's played on and also from his new role as sax player in the Benicia Elementary School Band. <br />
<br />
Our dinner discussion continued as my husband shared with us his own greatest imperfection, which he also shared with his class: Procrastination. My husband has very many strengths. Very many. In fact, he's drying our daughter's hair after making dinner and giving her a bath, just so I can work on my blog. I will forever appreciate all of the wonderful characteristics of my husband. Truly, I will.<br />
<br />
But sometimes, his procrastination drives me crazy! If you know us well enough, you'll know that my husband has been working on his master's degree ever since our son was three years old. Now our son is 10 years old, has a larger shoe size than me, and will be towering over me likely before he turns 11. And yet we wait, as we have for four years, for my husband to get inspired to finish his thesis. The good news is, he only has until Spring before the classes he took before have to be retaken. It seems to be motivating him, as looming deadlines always do, and for that we are grateful.<br />
<br />
So then I asked my husband what <em>my </em>greatest imperfection is. After a short pause, he explained that I have a tendency to let things go and go (like clutter in our bedroom or kitchen), and then all of a sudden I get fed up and frustrated and want to tend to it immediately. He's right about that, but I argued that at least I get things done....eventually. I remember a college roommate of mine commenting how funny it was that I would vaccuum at midnight once in a while, a practice that would occur after I ultimately got fed up with not tending to it earlier. <br />
<br />
Actually, I can think of greater faults of mine and told my husband that. He eventually came up with many more as our son chuckled and our three-year-old daughter Piper sucked her thumb. We all agreed that Piper is too young to have an imperfection, but thought perhaps her biggest one was not being able to decide on a Halloween costume. Her latest idea is a toilet.<br />
<br />
The truth is, I actually kind of like what I husband calls my biggest imperfection. It's what got me motivated to take my weight loss journey public and start my blog. I'd had it with my escalating weight and decided in an instant one morning last February what I had to do. And shortly after, I had a logo, started a blog, went back to Weight Watchers and began actually making use of my gym membership.<br />
<br />
And now, I'm down to only 5.5 pounds away from my weight loss goal of 40 pounds! How's that for a National Imperfection Day celebration?<br />
<br />
Here's this week's picture!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg267mL5QAg8el8g-SRO23_mH_kujeY3Ei5pVE73i2iXhFZg077TyYjsOhe31EIP66C-8OtAfjQN1dmwQuAi202t0m3nzJhIjvbJYYZ9m4Of5daYJtgvGp_0lxn_1mcpuA71ehBqQJDoSo/s1600/IMG_9555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg267mL5QAg8el8g-SRO23_mH_kujeY3Ei5pVE73i2iXhFZg077TyYjsOhe31EIP66C-8OtAfjQN1dmwQuAi202t0m3nzJhIjvbJYYZ9m4Of5daYJtgvGp_0lxn_1mcpuA71ehBqQJDoSo/s320/IMG_9555.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Until Next Week,<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><em>Jen</em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-69413436760995915252010-09-02T22:04:00.000-07:002010-09-03T08:02:51.445-07:00Trying to Get the FeelingIf there were an award for the worst planned month, I think my husband and I would win it. Don't get me wrong, I loved taking three trips in a four week period, but holy cow, did it do a number on our August budgeting, not to mention my diet. <br />
<br />
First, there was Disneyland with the kids. Next, we did Santa Cruz and Carmel for my birthday weekend. Then, as I mentioned and was eagerly anticipating in my last post, Christian and I went to Las Vegas for our first real adult vacation since our pre-schooler Piper was born. <br />
<br />
I did my best to prepare myself for the big trip to Sin City. I worked out extra prior to the big trip. I even packed my workout clothes in the new Samsonite luggage I got as a birthday gift. I packed two days worth of workout clothes, just in case I got motivated two times out of three days to hit the Mirage Casino and Hotel gym.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqw6RjPtp9EdQsiabEfcbRvXYX5pFe1fbutoaasrq6_D_kxoVY4aUa0tvi7qhTZwXIW5abtY9d46huaqkyXl0uwivL6uBVUZugnTkM6JccWY3XcywNYbH3HP5ift1Cr7tBUXfL8URWnbs/s1600/mirage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqw6RjPtp9EdQsiabEfcbRvXYX5pFe1fbutoaasrq6_D_kxoVY4aUa0tvi7qhTZwXIW5abtY9d46huaqkyXl0uwivL6uBVUZugnTkM6JccWY3XcywNYbH3HP5ift1Cr7tBUXfL8URWnbs/s320/mirage.jpg" /></a></div><br />
But everything about Las Vegas screams indulgence. And, honestly, what's the point in going there if you're not going to indulge a little bit? From the Wheel of Fortune slot machines to the yard-long frozen alcoholic beverages, to the all-you-can-eat buffets and the amazing restaurants, it would have been a sin <em>NOT</em> to embibe in Sin City.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCtAs5uKRLDXEKqffaK9E1oky0bUC8Ddg9HyeTBONj8dzSPn7io1ip3w9pOBacaYAy_M4jTHdQGdZq25wC5nHmDlqgRGhS7Rtwl4ZauFpKuVgwt0kpvKfBkz1KJrNhyX4XomiSm3NF5o/s1600/gambling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCtAs5uKRLDXEKqffaK9E1oky0bUC8Ddg9HyeTBONj8dzSPn7io1ip3w9pOBacaYAy_M4jTHdQGdZq25wC5nHmDlqgRGhS7Rtwl4ZauFpKuVgwt0kpvKfBkz1KJrNhyX4XomiSm3NF5o/s320/gambling.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>So I did.<br />
<br />
We went to one of my favorite places -- Fat Tuesday -- merely minutes after our Southwest Airlines plane touched down and checked into the hotel. Amaretto and Pineapple was my yard-long drink of choice. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRuISTaF-yM7mbIz7CvOMuf39MaUzdaH-RtZ5-iczAJzDS9RKG0z1iwylNJZ8BQ812DjxRT8syApIiua69UsRuOXpKToDVNGptYzNjubNvO1KQ4ILyPC1VTLuVkqQzv0SJCX3RJGaLKk/s1600/fat+tuesday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRuISTaF-yM7mbIz7CvOMuf39MaUzdaH-RtZ5-iczAJzDS9RKG0z1iwylNJZ8BQ812DjxRT8syApIiua69UsRuOXpKToDVNGptYzNjubNvO1KQ4ILyPC1VTLuVkqQzv0SJCX3RJGaLKk/s320/fat+tuesday.jpg" /></a></div><br />
By the way, if you think<em> THAT</em> is bad, there was a big guy in line in front of us literally strapping on to himself a <strong>100-ounce </strong>container of some frosty adult libation. The contraption had a strap around his neck as well as his waist! I've never seen anything like it and don't even want to think about what the Weight Watchers points value of his drink would have been!<br />
<br />
We spent our first night walking the Las Vegas Strip and taking it all in. We saw the water show in front of the Bellagio...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJHRU2WtlEY4PsiztNvLbcYX4FyA3KG58oIvxIrwZcdm-_vfEyjnoi9G_ajiBPpI2dAzS8qfb8w9RjRC286NkYjKNN8pcgkuXjcwsPlnM42nAvG2H6mxQzZCCn4fBiW9uM7wCY3IpU_g/s1600/bellagio+water+show.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJHRU2WtlEY4PsiztNvLbcYX4FyA3KG58oIvxIrwZcdm-_vfEyjnoi9G_ajiBPpI2dAzS8qfb8w9RjRC286NkYjKNN8pcgkuXjcwsPlnM42nAvG2H6mxQzZCCn4fBiW9uM7wCY3IpU_g/s320/bellagio+water+show.jpg" /></a></div><br />
...and met one of many Elvises lined up and ready to pose for photos in exchange for tips.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaf2eHSfn663HW3SIuzeV_vWilSoA3SicJbrsEP-0pyYvJFySlH1DoNFmHV1gGNKSORw07tWjbxQoR8ZcjRY8bn2J2nWgn3cU_QDa8I4iHP0L_slz2krvNMmecDbrglKHF2g61zMSy4A/s1600/jen+and+elvis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaf2eHSfn663HW3SIuzeV_vWilSoA3SicJbrsEP-0pyYvJFySlH1DoNFmHV1gGNKSORw07tWjbxQoR8ZcjRY8bn2J2nWgn3cU_QDa8I4iHP0L_slz2krvNMmecDbrglKHF2g61zMSy4A/s320/jen+and+elvis.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We ended up at the House of Blues, one of my favorite restaurants, for dinner and enjoyed live music and warm spinach dip with house made kettle chips and pasta with shrimp in a cajun Alfredo Sauce. It was clear the weekend wasn't going to bode well for my diet. But, by that point, I wasn't too worried.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmyhTxe1KWE_xHneaoHwAV-QTh0yG-HnMahX-0yW3ah-9lqNc8wywL58GVAhmfp-G-2zA9voKtO35Sqn6xjmX4GGNY5SgW_At9iBDZK6dbMtqzzx-c8MSVOgbnAh-ZusJWxWxmyr139U/s1600/jen+at+house+of+blues.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmyhTxe1KWE_xHneaoHwAV-QTh0yG-HnMahX-0yW3ah-9lqNc8wywL58GVAhmfp-G-2zA9voKtO35Sqn6xjmX4GGNY5SgW_At9iBDZK6dbMtqzzx-c8MSVOgbnAh-ZusJWxWxmyr139U/s320/jen+at+house+of+blues.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The following day, we spent as much time as we could at the Mirage pool in 107-degree weather. I've honestly never seen anything like the pool at the Mirage. It was like a giant fraternity party with probably 150 people in the pool, many with adult beverages in hand, simply trying to stay cool and have some fun in the sun. We lasted just about an hour out there until it was time for a nap (Christian) and pedicure (me).<br />
<br />
With newly painted toes and freshly rested eyes, Christian and I departed for what was to be one of the highlights of the trip -- the Barry Manilow concert at the Paris Casino. Christian sprung for third-row seats as a birthday present to me, and it was absolutely fantastic! I love Barry and have been a big fan since I was a teenager. I've seen him several times in concert and even met him once when I was 19. But, I've never seen him from the third row. It was a blast! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl50x5eD8SorpIHjQSrzR5IhY5YoIXsbxwwXJ5cbhonF8Bwrmwf-6Xy4ZESsjQaJNv3Q6BKf8iCkOS3kr3NjyKVB9l-44lE07KpbvyNpiyhPMRxEYNbw1I3rxfnFausy-Ni8Ax7B0xU_0/s1600/jen+in+front+of+paris+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl50x5eD8SorpIHjQSrzR5IhY5YoIXsbxwwXJ5cbhonF8Bwrmwf-6Xy4ZESsjQaJNv3Q6BKf8iCkOS3kr3NjyKVB9l-44lE07KpbvyNpiyhPMRxEYNbw1I3rxfnFausy-Ni8Ax7B0xU_0/s320/jen+in+front+of+paris+sign.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AmexZX-UHbT7QjHY37wbMaQ65ULNqCvrwJEmmAEa-JVNvz-neLV9ksWVY66Cb2OdlYPmUeXyxTe5dVbIk8t6cxkqn-nGmSGJLXab1C1qq1SvYmi3ZX0d2AP5KZ36FANKda5ljcJ4pG8/s1600/barry2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AmexZX-UHbT7QjHY37wbMaQ65ULNqCvrwJEmmAEa-JVNvz-neLV9ksWVY66Cb2OdlYPmUeXyxTe5dVbIk8t6cxkqn-nGmSGJLXab1C1qq1SvYmi3ZX0d2AP5KZ36FANKda5ljcJ4pG8/s320/barry2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3imrERQtcVK9G3vXxzpXVloMwbmmeChPhWMbM7i1sbdOV3rZtKHu4Ufidlc1Xt6vPIDtbSkAcuGufVAQuLGPsREMZZ_YEFpp3SwkMMrcDTC_amnXoY0OAFVuBhIS32fQ4H9aL7HXCO3Y/s1600/Jen+at+Barry+concert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3imrERQtcVK9G3vXxzpXVloMwbmmeChPhWMbM7i1sbdOV3rZtKHu4Ufidlc1Xt6vPIDtbSkAcuGufVAQuLGPsREMZZ_YEFpp3SwkMMrcDTC_amnXoY0OAFVuBhIS32fQ4H9aL7HXCO3Y/s320/Jen+at+Barry+concert.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Afterwards we went to Tao, a restaurant in the Venetian. I love Tao! If you haven't been there, I highly recommend it. After our delicious dinner of sushi, Pad Thai noodles, Coconut Shrimp and mini donuts with three dipping sauces (caramel, chocolate, and white chocolate), we decide to head back to our hotel room. We toyed with hitting the Tao Nightclub, which is a hot spot for celebrities, but it was 12:30 a.m. and this 40-year-old just didn't quite feel like the night club scene. Instead, we went back to the room and I crocheted a hat that I had sold on my etsy shop that weekend. I understand how completely lame that sounds, but my blog is all about being honest, so there.<br />
<br />
Our last day had us nearly out of spending money, so we decided to get yet another yard-long drink and hit the movies. We saw "The Other Guys" with Will Ferrell and Mark Walberg. Seriously funny. There is a scene in the movie where they end up in Las Vegas and Mark Walberg is in the background drinking a yard-long. It was pretty classic.<br />
<br />
About an hour before we had to head back to the airport, we decided to hit Margaritaville for a mid-afternoon snack. It wasn't a yard-long, but I enjoyed a modest mango margarita and Christian and I shared nachos, a particular weakness of mine. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhSenT6KsFh1adZS1UHTQeRK-nreo6zIquIaZKuZR4zHuKfIhLdDgqKQeWxjey_FUf5rUpZEiJEA91BGMPrHrJ-7jVt1hrD4gWI2vfa1Io0qJW22exCSCKJ0Mq6G4_Y3PBlqcJAFU5LI/s1600/jen+at+margaritaville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhSenT6KsFh1adZS1UHTQeRK-nreo6zIquIaZKuZR4zHuKfIhLdDgqKQeWxjey_FUf5rUpZEiJEA91BGMPrHrJ-7jVt1hrD4gWI2vfa1Io0qJW22exCSCKJ0Mq6G4_Y3PBlqcJAFU5LI/s320/jen+at+margaritaville.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOxEDOhbjQbuBcwBXGO69E49DZQr3VENM5mEA3BkxefmeUZz5XKor9UF3OsUuGtvwFoTHd3seo6iclIar4JbL0tVtgjK3D1AOmxTrJYa-YiLzh6tTzpDoXnUJTgBSy_GLzgkoX548_Vo/s1600/nachos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOxEDOhbjQbuBcwBXGO69E49DZQr3VENM5mEA3BkxefmeUZz5XKor9UF3OsUuGtvwFoTHd3seo6iclIar4JbL0tVtgjK3D1AOmxTrJYa-YiLzh6tTzpDoXnUJTgBSy_GLzgkoX548_Vo/s320/nachos.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I wish there was a way for me to feel the stuffed, heavy, disgusting feeling I feel after eating nachos <em>PRIOR</em> to ordering them. They were good, but during the entire plane ride (and then car ride home from Sacramento to Benicia), I was stuffed. And a little bit disgusted with myself. <br />
<br />
As if Las Vegas wasn't enough of a dietary challenge and disruption to my workout and Weight Watchers meeting schedule, I had a last-minute business trip to Seattle that I had to leave for the morning Christian and I got back to Las Vegas. Due to the nature of my work as a fundraiser for a college, I had two receptions and a dinner to attend, all filled with culinary delights and good wine.<br />
<br />
As lovely as I find Seattle (and the weather was simply gorgeous), I was so happy to finally get back home to get back on my diet and back on the treadmill! I'm not a very disciplined traveler. I find it nearly impossible to stick with my Weight Watchers program while on the road. And while I always pack my workout clothes with wonderful ambitions about using the hotel gym, I have never once have actually worked out on a business or pleasure trip. <br />
<br />
It took me a few days to get back in the swing of things (thus, the missed blog and additional cheating the days after I arrived home). In the words of Barry Manilow, I struggled "Trying to Get the Feeling Again" diet-wise. <br />
<br />
I am pleased to report that I have been nachos-free since Las Vegas and am now "back in the saddle" and on a regular workout schedule and back to counting my Weight Watchers points. I am also happy to report that I'm down another 1/2 pounds since my blog post two weeks ago. It's not much, but at least I've taken the weight off that resulted from my jet-setting life in August. That brings my total weight loss to 31 1/2 pounds, which means I have only 8.5 pounds to go until I reach my 40 pound weight loss goal. <br />
<br />
Fortunately for me, I don't have any extensive travel plans in my future. Here's this week's picture!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzij5Lc94LS_cs03IgcUlQzO38A4dpeqqpaqVe4wBhAnISLDFz8a9IiKQbLkWMytEO1TKnDeEhiiIykgoQyQIcJ6rIQQ23yRubGGEA3ItxhSjUg-9XLXJ4FFTa41yqYH2efkbX8oYNnek/s1600/09+02+10+40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzij5Lc94LS_cs03IgcUlQzO38A4dpeqqpaqVe4wBhAnISLDFz8a9IiKQbLkWMytEO1TKnDeEhiiIykgoQyQIcJ6rIQQ23yRubGGEA3ItxhSjUg-9XLXJ4FFTa41yqYH2efkbX8oYNnek/s320/09+02+10+40+by+40+pic.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Until next week,<br />
<em><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Jen</span></em>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-59706140987182587852010-08-19T23:36:00.000-07:002010-08-19T23:38:43.175-07:00Happy Birthday to Me!My highly anticipated 40th birthday occurred last Sunday, August 15th. As those of you who read my last blog, you'll remember that I was granted a two-month extension on my 40-pound weight loss goal, which I originally hoped to have completed by my big day. The new date I've set for myself is October 15th. Given that I now only have nine more pounds to go, I'm fairly certain I'll make that deadline and may in-fact beat it by a couple of weeks. I hope I didn't just jinx myself.<br />
<br />
My birthday weekend was a blast! We took the kids to the Santa Cruz area and stayed at my mother-in-law's cabin in Felton. We enjoyed a day at the beach and rode rides at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyYGqedYlEdsuPAaBS3nlMnxi1HCP5A-Aka4kbvLCNvKZbr337bN_bOubjZLIyIw7VykSQ5NeMdrS9QcvJEgOHotnRWNP_nIIFLatm6KQwyzVwnJom4RKyww9Vli3vOsAUl2vE1sxmps/s1600/Piper+buried+in+sand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyYGqedYlEdsuPAaBS3nlMnxi1HCP5A-Aka4kbvLCNvKZbr337bN_bOubjZLIyIw7VykSQ5NeMdrS9QcvJEgOHotnRWNP_nIIFLatm6KQwyzVwnJom4RKyww9Vli3vOsAUl2vE1sxmps/s320/Piper+buried+in+sand.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxG_N2Le8gEHvnqzMjBTh2TuI7l25ncb6YetrvI-6xTs9cpV_IIVRiVVS9HnVX2-e3ho2ofA5Ruc18zs5SXeRz5iWppj8faJTygjJ0Stk63kabDbq24v91koRTB4WEdiuQN-Dwa8ZrFDQ/s1600/Jen+and+Piper+on+Ferris+Wheel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxG_N2Le8gEHvnqzMjBTh2TuI7l25ncb6YetrvI-6xTs9cpV_IIVRiVVS9HnVX2-e3ho2ofA5Ruc18zs5SXeRz5iWppj8faJTygjJ0Stk63kabDbq24v91koRTB4WEdiuQN-Dwa8ZrFDQ/s320/Jen+and+Piper+on+Ferris+Wheel.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We spent the next day in Carmel followed by a birthday dinner at my favorite restuaurant in the world, <a href="http://swissbistro.com/">Lugano Swiss Bistro</a> in the Barnyard Shopping Center in Carmel Valley. We discovered the restaurant on our first family vacation we took 8 years ago with our son Will, who is now 10. We (probably me more than my husband) fell in love with the place and now go at least one time each year, typically coinciding with my birthday weekend. On a good year, we get down there twice. This trip, I got the honor of wearing the birthday hat and got to kiss the big Swiss cow for good luck. That was a first!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5q_YeqMhuNjg_ZsnbIDadWjjc1_Yx2PhshPSj8r2wUIDb-pF59Y7qbQNfhSip18tAEYqVlIlDACej7FEPEv19LG8R8yHigYu7XQbydZaLavMvVgLIcBMV4NZQt_-o52u-_KLjODBJKzQ/s1600/Jen+Will+Piper+Fondue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5q_YeqMhuNjg_ZsnbIDadWjjc1_Yx2PhshPSj8r2wUIDb-pF59Y7qbQNfhSip18tAEYqVlIlDACej7FEPEv19LG8R8yHigYu7XQbydZaLavMvVgLIcBMV4NZQt_-o52u-_KLjODBJKzQ/s320/Jen+Will+Piper+Fondue.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Iu7Xk63YpmbGibmKr0ErpL8Enb5HUJJcS1mvuBdAKPAcMMTrc2PVax_et2yxar6oWHpy0KJcT8mNiSVw5sCpsb1rc_e4-6UkkOj-tKqICyi38lvg8EeI6vA3pM3sU4bhgch7oCJUa8k/s1600/Jen+Kissing+Cow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Iu7Xk63YpmbGibmKr0ErpL8Enb5HUJJcS1mvuBdAKPAcMMTrc2PVax_et2yxar6oWHpy0KJcT8mNiSVw5sCpsb1rc_e4-6UkkOj-tKqICyi38lvg8EeI6vA3pM3sU4bhgch7oCJUa8k/s320/Jen+Kissing+Cow.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZY_iyFsOxfKs6kcgsuFMvuRvkaAnimKbyOAWiVc3wmuDWXFsxbO0dQ-_Vnktit7BYxCLdppz08b32ctoMwiba3aGxEXqkTqhVfltaR2teNIMIe6RLMwxQpqFCMG5gSEUjn6It1MAkIQU/s1600/IMG_0813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZY_iyFsOxfKs6kcgsuFMvuRvkaAnimKbyOAWiVc3wmuDWXFsxbO0dQ-_Vnktit7BYxCLdppz08b32ctoMwiba3aGxEXqkTqhVfltaR2teNIMIe6RLMwxQpqFCMG5gSEUjn6It1MAkIQU/s320/IMG_0813.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me with Lugano owner, André Lengacher. I just realized when looking at this picture that the patio table that is just behind us is the table we sat at when Christian and I visited the restaurant for the first time. </span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>As if this wasn't celebration enough, Christian and I depart tomorrow (today, for those reading this on Friday) on our first real vacation alone since Piper was born 3 1/2 years ago. He's taking me to Las Vegas, and surprised me with tickets to see Barry Manilow, who I have adored since I was a teen. I can't wait! I'm hoping for a wonderful, relaxing trip that includes lots of sunbathing by the Mirage pool, froo froo drinks, sleeping in, shopping, dinner at Tao (and possibly a trip to the nightclub to see if we see any celebrities), and, yes, gambling. Wheel of Fortune quarter machine, here I come!<br />
<br />
The days prior to my 40th birthday, I did a lot of thinking about my 30's and what I hope my 40's will be like. My 30's were wonderful. We had two children who we both adore. We moved to Benicia, which we really enjoy, and bought a house with a view in a neighborhood we love. <br />
<br />
But my 30's were also the most difficult period of my life so far. My mom was diagnosed with dementia when I turned 30, just after Will was born. She so desperately wanted to be a grandmother, but didn't have the chance to have the quality grandmother experience she waited so long for.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvN4znj0o02lZaefW1KkCRtslG6L9vtN-xoVXxNoj_tCYyMDHR0iZemq-WwtCmuEs8XQIRiZ-vHoN8Q8TrB2H65JRJJblEymS42ASqBZrE1_FSf6YrO-NgbxUeYkbjY5Ey2HilYUlc3-E/s1600/mom100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvN4znj0o02lZaefW1KkCRtslG6L9vtN-xoVXxNoj_tCYyMDHR0iZemq-WwtCmuEs8XQIRiZ-vHoN8Q8TrB2H65JRJJblEymS42ASqBZrE1_FSf6YrO-NgbxUeYkbjY5Ey2HilYUlc3-E/s320/mom100.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mom holding Will just after he was born.</span></em></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidMImzT1MYCIwz-HfmdsBVzpDmeg_a39by29-N27kdiOQ96pNNDK0BlssiyCLoxsbBBABM8Dz82KVAD0_W4y8CBUgyAzmBL_zNCJ4xuJuTC4i7Lhd5BbkfWVrp6DLSPv_JUALCnRc93yQ/s1600/mom108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidMImzT1MYCIwz-HfmdsBVzpDmeg_a39by29-N27kdiOQ96pNNDK0BlssiyCLoxsbBBABM8Dz82KVAD0_W4y8CBUgyAzmBL_zNCJ4xuJuTC4i7Lhd5BbkfWVrp6DLSPv_JUALCnRc93yQ/s320/mom108.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me with mom at the Alzheimer's home where she lived for several years. This photo was taken in </span></em><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>October 2003 at her birthday celebration, which was </em><em>just a few months </em><em>after she moved there.</em></span></div><br />
She passed away earlier this year. Those 9 1/2 years were hard. And dad moved on, and eventually got re-married. And while I'm happy for him, that was hard too. Then my brother was deployed by the Army to Iraq, where he is serving currently. And while things are calmer there than they were at the start of the war, it's still nerve-wracking knowing he's there. That's been hard, but I know he feels good about being there, so it makes it easier.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjen1ZUmjgCk8q50tgzVsb65HRIawcD6Pbl5mTB7u55pEe1tpUUy-dSWkJutv88y7B3JjX3SFg55ngfxh4f00ym8bUpHt7vvk9G0hrvr1PALNAG47ugnhuTcbNcwxaR5_Km9cHGlWgkfio/s1600/IMG_8922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjen1ZUmjgCk8q50tgzVsb65HRIawcD6Pbl5mTB7u55pEe1tpUUy-dSWkJutv88y7B3JjX3SFg55ngfxh4f00ym8bUpHt7vvk9G0hrvr1PALNAG47ugnhuTcbNcwxaR5_Km9cHGlWgkfio/s320/IMG_8922.JPG" /></a></div><br />
My hope for my 40's is that it will be a decade of a much healthier lifestyle for me. I hope it's filled with many wonderful family memories with Christian and the kids. It will be a decade that will find us welcoming my brother back home from Iraq, and one that will have us sending Will off to college somewhere, hopefully somewhere close. Both kids will be going through a lot of changes and by the time I'm 50, Piper will be in middle school...oh goodness, I imagine that will be an entirely different blog!<br />
<br />
I am also determined not to beat myself up so much in my 40's, and give myself more down time. Sometimes I feel I go, and go, and go....from work, to the gym, to home, to start crocheting to add items to my etsy shop (shameless plug: <a href="http://www.luluandcharlie.etsy.com/">http://www.luluandcharlie.etsy.com/</a>), to labeling blankets for Project Linus, to etc. etc. Not to mention, squeezing in family time, and going to Will's sporting and school events. <br />
<br />
In my 40's, I'm going to cut myself some more slack. For example, I wanted to get a workout in tomorrow morning before heading out to the airport for our Vegas trip. That would have meant lugging Piper to the gym daycare, stopping by Raley's to pick up a prescription, hurrying home to take a shower, dropping off a Project Linus blanket at the local hospital for a teenager who is recovering from being hit by a car, finishing packing, and heading of to the airport. I just got crazy thinking about all that would be involved in trying to accomplish all of these things.<br />
<br />
So, my new, mature, 40-year-old self decided while I was running on the treadmill at the gym this evening that I will skip the gym tomorrow morning. Instead, I will take my daughter to Starbuck's for breakfast in the morning, stop by the hospital to drop off the Linus blanket, leisurely pick Will up from school, head home and about 30 minutes later head to the airport with Christian. Whew, I'm calmer just thinking about it.<br />
<br />
And if I decide to, I'll use the Mirage gym to workout when we get to Vegas. But, since what happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas, I guess I won't be able to tell you if I did or not.<br />
<br />
Here's this week's picture, which is not ideal, since I'm freshly sweaty from the gym. But, my more practical 40-year-old side says, it'll be just fine if you all see me in my lycra shorts and sweaty Army shirt.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdmVI_-thXSY_Tt1F19bi1OYKvzeI8hCXJNyL2QhukaG97kYiUaSH9Rc5A_dEHau3fr1anDGsR-4yBgKII-PlWXLfdkCGffX0RzoClJbB7hQnUhQp5YQ-4z1obXqhjWb1DJRjJoaToJU/s1600/IMG_9281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdmVI_-thXSY_Tt1F19bi1OYKvzeI8hCXJNyL2QhukaG97kYiUaSH9Rc5A_dEHau3fr1anDGsR-4yBgKII-PlWXLfdkCGffX0RzoClJbB7hQnUhQp5YQ-4z1obXqhjWb1DJRjJoaToJU/s320/IMG_9281.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
Until Next Week,<br />
<em><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Jen</span></em>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-68069256067614841302010-08-05T23:53:00.000-07:002010-08-06T00:07:20.298-07:00And She Lived Happily Ever AfterOnce upon a time, a not-quite-40-year-old Queen named Jennifer traveled with her royal family to a far away land. It is a magical land. There, you can find beautiful princesses and handsome princes. You can meet magical faries and a mouse named Mickey. And soft cuddly characters like Eeyore and a silly old bear named Pooh, who loves to eat hunny and doesn't even stop once to consider the Weight Watchers points value.<br />
<br />
They call this land Disneyland. Some call it the Happiest Place on Earth.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFl1m7ab0rzPVMBbKgEz-flW0o090wW8BF9gOBhsNRteeU-bWTIRRl_Q2VOlqeRVVxNREXBC9Q2Jejg_BQcV_IQGGaqw8WGd8spAORbcaAwkw6f9OY-dbl18HkgU1z1tymo62w501YI5s/s1600/mickey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFl1m7ab0rzPVMBbKgEz-flW0o090wW8BF9gOBhsNRteeU-bWTIRRl_Q2VOlqeRVVxNREXBC9Q2Jejg_BQcV_IQGGaqw8WGd8spAORbcaAwkw6f9OY-dbl18HkgU1z1tymo62w501YI5s/s320/mickey.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>After months and months of anticipation, and daily questioning by Princess Piper if the day had come to travel to this far away land, the Royal Family boarded their carriage – a 2008 Toyota Camry. They drove for miles and miles, stopping occasionally to use the royal throne at the Golden Arches. It really wasn't that royal, but it would do in a pinch. <br />
<br />
On these occasional pit stops, King Christian, Prince William and Princess Piper would feast on Chicken Nuggets, french fries, and chocolate chip cookies. But not Queen Jennifer. Instead, she opted for a grilled chicken sandwich without mayonnaise, apple slices and a King Sized Diet Soda.<br />
<br />
You see, Queen Jennifer was determined to lose 40 pounds by her 40th birthday. And that birthday, August 15th, was rapidly approaching. So she did everything in her power to try to stick to her diet and exercise plan for this weeklong adventure in this magical land.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABlTplWDTFedkW_6xY4U0nBsZ8Ph8H_sS82Ibj4NHPYJtWOzrWfJb__KcZz-NT1RfCGJlq4s10079WSDVgUyj4Bfx5rtDENRL3kx_zs7RVToTR9f3OEY0Et4HifWV0fvMCmqPlS7cgPM/s1600/Eeyore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABlTplWDTFedkW_6xY4U0nBsZ8Ph8H_sS82Ibj4NHPYJtWOzrWfJb__KcZz-NT1RfCGJlq4s10079WSDVgUyj4Bfx5rtDENRL3kx_zs7RVToTR9f3OEY0Et4HifWV0fvMCmqPlS7cgPM/s320/Eeyore.jpg" /></a></div><br />
She exercised at the gym every day leading up to the trip, and partook in no cheat days because she was saving all of her extra points for the voyage. In her trunk, she packed fancy clothes and practical shoes and even workout clothes, thinking just possibly she would be able to jog around this magical land of Disney each morning. <br />
<br />
That silly queen. She thought she would have the energy!<br />
<br />
But she quickly learned that a day in the land of Disney would zap every ounce of strength she had. She went to bed each day when the clock struck midnight with throbbing aching feet, only to wake up the following morning at dawn with the same throbbing aching feet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxmccMCms3nGBLOUl7OUWicsHHMf2BxXgk1BdYBtKFHvpzKCAZ-aV2RtWuWuNprGUM4b2mf13pOLtr1RJaSiFNiT850PItoXVKelkvHKUWFKvgzGIGGKqk3F1zvBDDFK7Kb8sXfLXAds/s1600/Tired+Piper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxmccMCms3nGBLOUl7OUWicsHHMf2BxXgk1BdYBtKFHvpzKCAZ-aV2RtWuWuNprGUM4b2mf13pOLtr1RJaSiFNiT850PItoXVKelkvHKUWFKvgzGIGGKqk3F1zvBDDFK7Kb8sXfLXAds/s320/Tired+Piper.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Princess Piper at the end of a very long day at Disneyland.</span></em></div><br />
It became clear that the exercise strategy was not going to be successful on this voyage. Instead, Queen Jennifer rationalized that the walking all day around this gigantic land and its neighboring land, California Adventure, would be exercise enough.<br />
<br />
During the trip, the Queen resisted many of the temptations this land had to offer: freshly baked Churros, Mickey Mouse shaped cookies, and the most delightlfully smelling Kettle Corn that you can imagine. There were fresh beignets in New Orleans Square, corn popped in tomorrow land, and candy so light it was just like cotton. The queen knew that these culinary distractions would only keep her from her goal. So she stuck with her two-point Weight Watchers Almond Sensation Bars for breakfast, did her best to order salads and vegetarian burgers for lunch and dinner, and tried with all her might to ignore the delictible smell of Kettle Corn that seemed to be around each and every corner.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincpHy_F861crEo1kKuCVuOhjXyiWR37nF8OgID_owdmnJbXZydnnGW4fjKd7oU-od-MUYnzVQ2MGM2x_66otI1wlykF0Sk-haSLuGobdATCxFOEI7NaD8IaGyUtgQ_AH4yd-R3SX_oJo/s1600/piper+and+cookie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincpHy_F861crEo1kKuCVuOhjXyiWR37nF8OgID_owdmnJbXZydnnGW4fjKd7oU-od-MUYnzVQ2MGM2x_66otI1wlykF0Sk-haSLuGobdATCxFOEI7NaD8IaGyUtgQ_AH4yd-R3SX_oJo/s320/piper+and+cookie.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Princess Piper enjoying every bite of the castle cookie she decorated herself</span></em> </div><br />
That worked for a couple of days. But then she slipped, ever so slightly. One night, she had a hot fudge sundae. It was good...and worth the points. Another night she convinced King Christian to agree to ordering Spinach Artichoke Dip as an appetizer at dinner at a wonderful little restaurant called the House of Blues. And then there were some other very minor insignificant cheat moments that involved frozen lemonade and a margarita, the queen's particular weakness.<br />
<br />
But all-in-all, she did fairly well. Better than many others fared in this far away land.<br />
<br />
The Queen and her King, as well as her prince and her princess had such a wonderful time on their journey. It was quite possibly one of the very best vacations they had had. Princess Piper proved to be quite an adventurous little one at her young age of three, which meant the Royal Family could enjoy all of the thrills this land of Disney had to offer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD99h4skVTIV0CKXffCd2Bw66mTovQR8o61TCZWrn7atQs0ThsADbIy9VT6_6alDc4g6PHRheMnFRVuqrY752_BPHFXxHZHYb-whnWUP2WwYT71RshA_aQwc1xLRxLh_mG3bMou5A9HoU/s1600/Splash+Mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD99h4skVTIV0CKXffCd2Bw66mTovQR8o61TCZWrn7atQs0ThsADbIy9VT6_6alDc4g6PHRheMnFRVuqrY752_BPHFXxHZHYb-whnWUP2WwYT71RshA_aQwc1xLRxLh_mG3bMou5A9HoU/s320/Splash+Mountain.jpg" /></a></div><br />
When the Queen arrived home after a very, very, very long carriage ride heading north in I-5, she collapsed into bed after they arrived back to their castle shortly after midnight, knowing she had to report to her official queen duties at work in just a few short hours. When she arose from her slumber, she decided to step on the scale to see how she was doing. To her great surprise, she learned she had <em>GAINED 7.5 POUNDS</em>!<br />
<br />
"Oh shucks," she exclaimed! After all, queens don't curse, you know.<br />
<br />
"How in the world could I have gained 7.5 pounds in one week?! " And then she said, "I just wish I had more time to complete my weight loss goal."<br />
<br />
And then, the strangest thing happened. The very same Fairy Godmother that Queen Jennifer saw during Breakfast with the Characters at the land of Disney appeared. Sure, it was a little bit weird, given that the Queen Jennifer was all ready to begin her shower and get ready for the day, but she decided to play along.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-gtR-mv3SY7v1GaSbWNiUKXykKhZuRWmAJzUYezYTg9HFQUgzve2duE-nJdHksroUFIXiT4qgy_-w8LfkitZKBn_6gDiRGCXe6c6PrVxc6BdYWgabnNkfF5q-8nZDMUCCCy731MfHnA/s1600/Fairy+Godmother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-gtR-mv3SY7v1GaSbWNiUKXykKhZuRWmAJzUYezYTg9HFQUgzve2duE-nJdHksroUFIXiT4qgy_-w8LfkitZKBn_6gDiRGCXe6c6PrVxc6BdYWgabnNkfF5q-8nZDMUCCCy731MfHnA/s320/Fairy+Godmother.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cinderella's (and Queen Jennifer's) Fairy Godmother and Prince William at the Breakfast with the Characters in the land of Disney.</span></em></div><br />
The Fairy Godmother said, "I am here to grant you one wish. I know you had a wonderful time in the far away land with your Royal Family and you have a big birthday coming up. So my gift to you is to grant you one wish...any wish you want."<br />
<br />
The queen thought and thought. And while a million dollars seemed like a good wish, for the purpose of her blog, Queen Jennifer said:<br />
<br />
"I wish I could be granted an extension on losing the remaining weight needed to meet my 40-pound weight loss goal. It's clear that I'm not going to be able to do it by my birthday, even though I've come such a long way."<br />
<br />
And just like that, the her wish for a two-month extension was granted. Her Fairy Godmother assured her that all her friends and family members who are following her blog will be proud of her for her accomplishments to date and would continue to cheer her on as she continued her journey to lose the remaining weight she needed to lose 40 pounds prior to her new deadline: October 15th.<br />
<br />
Queen Jennifer was so relieved. And as her week went on, and the water retention resulting from the trip to Disneyland and her increased sodium intake from eating out every day subsided, her weight went down and down.<br />
<br />
And as of this writing, she was back down to 154.5 pounds -- 12.5 pounds shy from her goal of 142 pounds and only .5 pounds above her weight from her last royal blog post two weeks ago.<br />
<br />
Despite a slight gain, Queen Jennifer knew that she would, indeed, live happily ever after.<br />
<br />
Here is this week's picture:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgecLjbq6CKD33Bj3410U3zMNHkNlVs7fQjGsxxebccDYbWWCLjKKs_MWjMX2Ruc7uhNH6Vi_7r4s3NX0GZS4p_6FABAuZHg-2CctVUq3W_5yRNLNLhqKxnctMA0sV3RRmhB86KWIKuNJg/s1600/IMG_9203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgecLjbq6CKD33Bj3410U3zMNHkNlVs7fQjGsxxebccDYbWWCLjKKs_MWjMX2Ruc7uhNH6Vi_7r4s3NX0GZS4p_6FABAuZHg-2CctVUq3W_5yRNLNLhqKxnctMA0sV3RRmhB86KWIKuNJg/s320/IMG_9203.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Until Next Week,<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><em>Queen Jennifer</em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-7696462074933473892010-07-23T00:38:00.000-07:002010-07-23T00:43:10.687-07:00A Bum DealI must tell you about a real milestone I hit at the gym tonight. I started off on the elliptical trainer, on the "fat burner" setting for my age and weight. I did that at level 16 (out of 20) for 33 minutes. After that, I rowed for 15 minutes on the rowing machine while I kept my eyes open for a treadmill machine that I could snag to finish my workout with a one-mile jog. It was a particularly popular night for treadmills.<br />
<br />
At the gym I go to, there are approximately 16 treadmill machines that line the room in an L shape. Six of them are in the front of the room, right in front of the front window. The remaining 10 treadmills line the side of the room so the walkers'/joggers' rear ends face the wall. <br />
<br />
Immediately behind the six window-facing, on-display-for-all-to-see treadmills is a line of two recumbant bikes and four elliptical trainers. Behind those are a slew of exercise bikes, rowing machines, stairmasters and some elliptical-looking machines that I have never tried, but seem to involve a hybrid of running and cross-country skiing.<br />
<br />
Whenever I'm on the elliptical trainer, my favorite machine, I can't help but notice the backsides of all of the walkers and joggers on those six treadmills in the front of the room. After all, there isn't much to look at, except for the television screens displaying one of many barbecue cookoffs on the Food Network or the KFC World Cup Women's softball game. <br />
<br />
There's the little old lady that is dressed in her street clothes walking on low speed at no incline. And the 40-something-year-old guy who runs super fast in his short shorts. There are moms like me trying to shed some extra weight walking at a fast pace on an incline in their capri workout pants and a long t-shirt to cover their somewhat jiggly bum. And, of course, there's the 20-something-aged girl with her blond hair in a ponytail, iPod strapped to her arm, jogging away with just a hint of a glow and not an ounce of fat on her perfectly taut body. Boy, do I <em>hate</em> her!<br />
<br />
I always wondered why anyone would ever choose one of those treadmill machines in the front row. The only redeeming quality of their location is they are immediately behind the television screens so you can read the closed captioning better if you don't have a headset that can tune into a radio frequency to hear the audio.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, since starting to work out at the gym four months ago, I have done absolutely everything I can to avoid ever being in the front row of treadmills. So as I was rowing on the rowing machine this evening, I was praying and praying that one of the other treadmills on the side of the room would open up so I could jog without anyone seeing my rear. Don't get me wrong, it's much better than it used to be. There was a time when I would jog and it would literally take my bum a few strides to catch up with the rest of me! Now, it seems to "hold its own" and keep up with my other body parts, which is definitely progress. <br />
<br />
After I finished my 15 minutes of rowing, the only open treadmills were in the front of the gym. I had to make a big decision. Do I stick with my plan to jog a mile, or do I chicken out and go home 10 minutes early?<br />
<br />
This would be a really lame blog post if I chickened out, and I knew it. So, I stepped right onto the second treadmill from the left in the front of the room, right next to the 40-something-year-old man running in his short shorts. I <span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">pushed</span> start, and 5.0 for speed and ran. I worried about my backside being on display, but I tried to keep my focus on my iPod tunes and keeping in stride with mister short-shorts. I jogged for 12 minutes, exactly a mile. And I didn't die. And nobody laughed. At least not that I saw. <br />
<br />
Just as exciting as my exercise breakthrough, I lost 1.5 pounds this week! This brings my total weight loss to 28 pounds. I've got 12 more to go to reach my goal. <br />
<br />
Here's this week's picture: <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBiZhgOJmIeUdAld6ytij1nvO3mrmoqSqczzqpeu2-_S-Q9HXPhy7IuXd5WeR_Wm0WyqMmXa8pvZOJN6LG7I0pGONNlkRv4zyJTW_hcZdYEYI4hjomtqlhIs3alKSnueDChqJvQzbMEPk/s1600/Jens+40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBiZhgOJmIeUdAld6ytij1nvO3mrmoqSqczzqpeu2-_S-Q9HXPhy7IuXd5WeR_Wm0WyqMmXa8pvZOJN6LG7I0pGONNlkRv4zyJTW_hcZdYEYI4hjomtqlhIs3alKSnueDChqJvQzbMEPk/s320/Jens+40+by+40+pic.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And since I haven't posted it in a while, here's my pre-diet photo, taken at a Project Linus event on February 20th of this year. I feel like an entirely different person!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HcM_uKctQZK6XVCJbtfk00MGfJZcZ_-qNdG09Qp1FFKWWwg8NAoFi5eJB2E8Dcg2WH0eu3FiHrqPPUgeLqACETR5kGW1i40iqrAaVvOHdEkedWlOdry-cbqvxTw2NKhx_2Vksns99Fw/s1600/pre-diet-photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HcM_uKctQZK6XVCJbtfk00MGfJZcZ_-qNdG09Qp1FFKWWwg8NAoFi5eJB2E8Dcg2WH0eu3FiHrqPPUgeLqACETR5kGW1i40iqrAaVvOHdEkedWlOdry-cbqvxTw2NKhx_2Vksns99Fw/s320/pre-diet-photo.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We are taking the kids to Disneyland next week, so my next blog post will be in two weeks. Hopefully I'll have double the results!<br />
<br />
Until then,<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><em><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: magenta;">Jen</span> </span></em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-62462806197043243092010-07-15T23:40:00.000-07:002010-07-15T23:46:06.928-07:00Non-Scale VictoryI have been the model Weight Watcher this week. More motivated than ever to reach my 40 lb. weight loss goal by my 40th birthday (which, by the way is exactly one month from today), I religiously went to the gym every day this past week, except for Sunday, which I spent fishing for 7 hours with my son. And honestly, since he kept wanting to check to see if his bait was still on the hook every 5 minutes, the amount of time I spent re-casting for him probably ended up being a pretty good workout.<br />
<br />
So you can only imagine my frustration when stepping on the scale this morning only to find I had not lost one single ounce. Not one!<br />
<br />
I thought back to Tuesday's Weight Watchers meeting when Norma, our group leader, discussed our topic of the week: NSVs. NSVs are Non-Scale Victories, which Weight Watchers says show you're living more healthfully. "They're momentum-savers when the numbers on the scale stall," the cover of this week's hand-out says.<br />
<br />
I had certainly stalled, so I decided to take matters into my own hands today and enjoy my own NSV. It started with a call from work to my 10-year-old son, Will.<br />
<br />
Me: "Will, after work I want to go to the mall and buy a new pair of jeans. Will you come with me and take photos for my blog?"<br />
<br />
Will: "Awww."<br />
<br />
Me: "Oh, come on, I'll get you a treat."<br />
<br />
Will: "What kind?"<br />
<br />
Me: "A pretzel and/or a Mrs. Fields cookie."<br />
<br />
Will: "<em>AND</em> or <em>OR</em>?" (Clearly, "or" was going to be a deal-breaker!)<br />
<br />
Me: "Okay, fine, you can have a pretzel <em>AND </em>a cookie<em>."</em><br />
<br />
So after I got off work, Will and I went to Sun Valley Mall in Concord to go to The Gap (and Wetzel's Pretzels and Mrs. Fields Cookies) to find mamma a new pair of jeans.<br />
<br />
Since I began my diet at the end of February, I hadn't purchased any new clothes. The jeans I have been wearing are my Size 14 Gap "Boyfriend" jeans (they boast a roomier thigh, which tends to work best for me). When I wear them now, I have to cinch my belt so tight that I have a "ruffle" waist when I'm finished. Up until now, I hadn't wanted to spend the money on new jeans, knowing I'd be losing even more weight.<br />
<br />
But, I needed a NSV, and my baggy jeans were becoming a bit embarrasing. <br />
<br />
I wasn't quite sure what my new size would be. Realistically, I thought perhaps at best I would be a Size 10 now. But, just in case, I loaded up my arms with Size 12's and Size 10's, and I threw in one Size 8, just in case. I stuck with the Boyfriend Jean style (but in a capri length), my standby, but also tried the "Curvy" fit and "Easy Straight" style, which features a low rise, easy in the hip and thigh, straight leg opening, and stretch materials (the signage said it was just a tiny bit slimmer cut than the Boyfriend Jean, so I grabbed a Size 10 in those).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPO7qihuzap15Bxp_k0awxyCk7ukcGJmjQChlTTW9ncgpE37Ctx2Uq7n2dZ4UBQBHFVYsRZlJEJWkXo51X1cq6_hI3x23zHlE8qIETyFHLi9WucdxAymPDrMQq7jsyl_6w_4svZkHhWB4/s1600/IMG_9036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPO7qihuzap15Bxp_k0awxyCk7ukcGJmjQChlTTW9ncgpE37Ctx2Uq7n2dZ4UBQBHFVYsRZlJEJWkXo51X1cq6_hI3x23zHlE8qIETyFHLi9WucdxAymPDrMQq7jsyl_6w_4svZkHhWB4/s320/IMG_9036.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo Credit: Will Whitty</span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I also grabbed a few skirts and t-shirts to try on along with the denim. And Will and I headed into the wheelchair accessible dressing room, which would be of ample size to fit us both and provide room for Will to take photos. He knew the rule, though: "No underwear shots!" And while they are not in the camera, I'm certain the images of me changing will surely remain ingrained in his head and will torture him for life. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hrKWrEZjUzAo3166TKlYCsvViueXtDxnCAWZu8ccN6duEp21_XPSEEG9JViA_8uMNbfqCTyNeztsIitV8VOrfGz8koektCH35Gciz1pejNEjmKmmfo5s_x9u8wNrjmK0BPK5Nd_fIWE/s1600/IMG_9055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hrKWrEZjUzAo3166TKlYCsvViueXtDxnCAWZu8ccN6duEp21_XPSEEG9JViA_8uMNbfqCTyNeztsIitV8VOrfGz8koektCH35Gciz1pejNEjmKmmfo5s_x9u8wNrjmK0BPK5Nd_fIWE/s320/IMG_9055.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Will knew to stop taking pictures when I was in the process of changing, </span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">so he turned the camera on himself. He does look somewhat disturbed by our outing, </span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">but with a pretzel and a cookie, he did get a pretty sweet deal!</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">My fitting room strategy is to always try on the largest size first, so I can be pleasantly surprised if something doesn't fit, and then can move down a size. But for some reason, I couldnt't find the Size 12 capri style Boyfriend Jeans, so I tried on the 10. Surprisingly, they pulled up pretty quickly, not getting stuck on those "Casey Thighs" I have been cursed with. In fact, they buttoned just fine and were somewhat roomy in the thighs. When I got them in final position, one thing was clear: the waist was WAY too big.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-c2WYuRsfA0PpRnfoKvfnopedxqiqArrJF0jTV-yQo_hioVcdCF6TViF5iQ82WQnJ_uZcRScVzE71awwwErum7jLPimLHSjXcd_W9QgfLDGE4otQTrCZJQdAB6MQENTDPPjWpkRfSmA/s1600/IMG_9047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-c2WYuRsfA0PpRnfoKvfnopedxqiqArrJF0jTV-yQo_hioVcdCF6TViF5iQ82WQnJ_uZcRScVzE71awwwErum7jLPimLHSjXcd_W9QgfLDGE4otQTrCZJQdAB6MQENTDPPjWpkRfSmA/s320/IMG_9047.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Size 10 Boyfriend Jeans...too big in the waist.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, I rumaged through the pile of denim on the changing room bench and found the only Size 8 pair of denim capris in the group. I tried them on...and, drumroll please....THEY FIT! Holy cow (well, Skinny Cow), I never, ever would have thought I would have lost three pant sizes by now! Woo hoo, talk about a non-scale victory!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjCzMQgfndI2-d480J2paN890E66agwnaNiAwVJnmuz9YGronptEtIc1TpPUgY8WISCg6gV8Fv75V66SFj4X1HE0wvVFXutO3BL8AmxNjY-sbo2grXUjXf0LEuDNgb0BM3OB8mBQ4ISU/s1600/IMG_9048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjCzMQgfndI2-d480J2paN890E66agwnaNiAwVJnmuz9YGronptEtIc1TpPUgY8WISCg6gV8Fv75V66SFj4X1HE0wvVFXutO3BL8AmxNjY-sbo2grXUjXf0LEuDNgb0BM3OB8mBQ4ISU/s320/IMG_9048.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Size 8 Boyfriend Jeans.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Those were definitely a keeper! I tossed them in the "to buy" pile. Then I got a little greedy and tried on the denim Size 10 mini skirt with the frayed edge. They were cute, but I somehow didn't feel quite ready for a mini-skirt. But, I asked the 10-year-old to confirm (or deny) my suspicions.</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5ELGEogRuWx5AXi9lU3cPfAhLz1KdKsG3cAeYIDCn8T1T-y_L4pmimrUoLy2tWwOOuuQy3zjRtkQInOrZ43iZjJTnFg3QxG-7GzIZxl4kS5HhID9VTMLWAlfi2u7vZfYjEeYyWJtnlA/s1600/IMG_9040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5ELGEogRuWx5AXi9lU3cPfAhLz1KdKsG3cAeYIDCn8T1T-y_L4pmimrUoLy2tWwOOuuQy3zjRtkQInOrZ43iZjJTnFg3QxG-7GzIZxl4kS5HhID9VTMLWAlfi2u7vZfYjEeYyWJtnlA/s320/IMG_9040.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The aforementioned denim mini.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Me: "Will, do you think I'm ready yet for a skirt like this?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Will: "Do you want me to tell you the truth?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Me: "Yes"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Will: "Not quite...but almost."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Gotta love that kid. And with that, the denim mini was discarded in the reject pile.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvHI1ljOpvot_OvcP4XiqbJ4UcJLYKy7vRM56-ggne6X8iFLhickYbenwHkoG2KjIElH7VWJExZy5AaO45jyPSZi8GmV4cWXy8EtZuyygxFgpyTHrjCxputUm7Jel5uQNcPeQCIdVYkQ/s1600/IMG_9056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvHI1ljOpvot_OvcP4XiqbJ4UcJLYKy7vRM56-ggne6X8iFLhickYbenwHkoG2KjIElH7VWJExZy5AaO45jyPSZi8GmV4cWXy8EtZuyygxFgpyTHrjCxputUm7Jel5uQNcPeQCIdVYkQ/s320/IMG_9056.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Changing Break.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I tried on a sampling of t-shirts, most of which I bought (in a size MEDIUM, not that ghastly XL that had been overtaking my closet!), and then tried on the Size 10 Easy Straight jeans with the Destructed Finish. Keep in mind, the Easy Straight Style is slightly slimmer than the Boyfriend jeans, so I felt okay with going a size up in these. They fit GREAT and the stretchy material is super comfortable. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaLZwnj2rGCBVF4MPD86osK1683XP88LYU9I3nwZBH72SnWlKhBz69l0drfM28Z5lFGoodlorui6NmCsunTLmtGYIvn6W40iNCt9yj4ghblGmSplc53WoGcTMvGkYtLlNku5bVrGoqSo/s1600/IMG_9062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaLZwnj2rGCBVF4MPD86osK1683XP88LYU9I3nwZBH72SnWlKhBz69l0drfM28Z5lFGoodlorui6NmCsunTLmtGYIvn6W40iNCt9yj4ghblGmSplc53WoGcTMvGkYtLlNku5bVrGoqSo/s320/IMG_9062.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">A medium pocket tee and Easy Stretch Size 10 Jeans: LOVE these!</span></em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Seriously, this was a no brainer. I LOVE these jeans. They went into the "must-have" pile. I gathered up the two pairs of jeans, five t-shirts, and grabbed a super cute tote and sandals on the way out. After all, all sale items were an additional 25% off; how could I resist?!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwj-BBglKW2IBgkqYI3iqBbhpEmnhwy7p3PM35YGK6tR5UgLy7jUvqZ7xAg0Iy2x-EBrwIH9b2HIpP9IwKxI5ESKj8XNpUL3sT02Rjek1jZbP9yIfTIBS3sNKabjbpi_CMM62DXBGD8-4/s1600/IMG_9063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwj-BBglKW2IBgkqYI3iqBbhpEmnhwy7p3PM35YGK6tR5UgLy7jUvqZ7xAg0Iy2x-EBrwIH9b2HIpP9IwKxI5ESKj8XNpUL3sT02Rjek1jZbP9yIfTIBS3sNKabjbpi_CMM62DXBGD8-4/s320/IMG_9063.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And with that, Will and I hit the checkstand and were soon on our way to Mrs. Fields Cookies. They had a deal: buy four cookies and get one free. So, we got five to be shared by Will, Daddy, and Piper. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I got a Diet Coke.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">But, more importantly, I got a No-Scale Victory that is going to keep me motivated, even though the scale stalled for me this week. My hope is that I will have a "Scale" Victory to report next week because I don't think we can afford for me <em>not</em> to.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Until Next Week,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><em><span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Jen</span></em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-19712517630062664612010-07-08T23:34:00.000-07:002010-07-09T09:12:50.752-07:00Battle of the BulgeMy trip to Hawaii was a mix of business and pleasure, as well as the displeasure of seeing my brother Geoff off as he and his fellow Army soldiers were deployed to Iraq. It was so fun to spend time with both he and his wife, Girlie. However, right off the bat, I new I'd be in trouble diet-wise if I didn't stick with my plan of fish and fruit and do my best to squeeze some exercise in.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQ_dyIzxeG0Qrj_K1rCF9jf-HQjWWePUrkSJixGrTUqziT1ZF82yxO-nq4Cv0ZtgfSyJFhENMp6Epb4ggVNjo4evPoVITqjC-P84XW2WVRQnwHXcpFgsAUXo_sj-SapkejogmjRhzWmM/s1600/IMG_8766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQ_dyIzxeG0Qrj_K1rCF9jf-HQjWWePUrkSJixGrTUqziT1ZF82yxO-nq4Cv0ZtgfSyJFhENMp6Epb4ggVNjo4evPoVITqjC-P84XW2WVRQnwHXcpFgsAUXo_sj-SapkejogmjRhzWmM/s320/IMG_8766.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Day 2: My brother and I had fun boogie-boarding on Oahu's North Shore.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIT2ahQZxbTP0vjwqGzP36G-un4Lo0_CgPlwvtvP3acHa766tQ2k31_u4tJP7-vGXs3bmbicxfWBPOQqwLfUMcAWKToqeACv9Hnz2m8EwghZ5x92uIVojZrFQXlrH-BGluquEZXlWXNU/s1600/IMG_8765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIT2ahQZxbTP0vjwqGzP36G-un4Lo0_CgPlwvtvP3acHa766tQ2k31_u4tJP7-vGXs3bmbicxfWBPOQqwLfUMcAWKToqeACv9Hnz2m8EwghZ5x92uIVojZrFQXlrH-BGluquEZXlWXNU/s320/IMG_8765.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Kowabunga!</span></em></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETWD_t-IcyRu7P2dKVU4Xizxonn01inyeOJ5Ub3rUmmLj_J-kr9ZMMuYW1dqHpodfrnII0Wo3kkRl8bayKUfxv8N4GNSuFWPinV9CXHvjZIqWzOpoRwxQOCfW1EuCU7R2am2atJG6_E0/s1600/IMG_8770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETWD_t-IcyRu7P2dKVU4Xizxonn01inyeOJ5Ub3rUmmLj_J-kr9ZMMuYW1dqHpodfrnII0Wo3kkRl8bayKUfxv8N4GNSuFWPinV9CXHvjZIqWzOpoRwxQOCfW1EuCU7R2am2atJG6_E0/s320/IMG_8770.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Day 3: Geoff, Girlie and I spent the day driving around Oahu. </span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">We stopped at Hanauma Bay to take this picture.</span></em> </div><br />
I never really realized until this trip, during which I got to spend five days with my brother before he deployed, how much my brother loves to eat! Fortunately for him, being in the army involves mandatory "PT" that typically includes running six miles each day. With a workout routine like that, you can stand to enjoy life's culinary pleasures.<br />
<br />
But, I could tell from the moment my brother picked me up and took me to lunch at local hot spot -- <a href="http://mauimikes.com/">Maui Mike's</a>, which is famous for their fire-roasted chicken -- that I was deployed on my own mission. My mission was to survive my brother continually tempting me with all of the culinary treats Hawaii had to offer. <br />
<br />
At our first feast, instead of choosing the Maui Wowie Melt Sandwich at Maui Mike's, which is shredded chicken with oozing cheese accompanied by greasy french fries (my brother informed me was their specialty), I chose shredded skinless chicken with barbecue sauce and no side of fries. Plus a Diet Coke.<br />
<br />
After lunch, we spent some time shopping -- my brother loves to shop, which is great! -- and it wasn't before long that he appeared with an itty bitty Godiva chocolate bag with little nibbles of chocolate. Of course, he offered me some and, as a good diet soldier does, I resisted.<br />
<br />
"You realize I'm on a diet, right?" I asked him. "You read my blog. And besides, I'm saving my bonus points for Hula Grill on Saturday night." <br />
<br />
"But you're on vacation!" He countered. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLIw63Dub41R1LwfBRj4Wm7Z8mKeqkbZ7ofFhp6DzVgmRnXNiWth1mEi90qlZkL5IHea3mL_ckT3iyH2Twvk1Jy4ThtSHTc3DipppSoCNp6lBvosd-7waJeBEZ174jrsyYBCLgLVP5tF4/s1600/Jen+at+Hula+Grill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLIw63Dub41R1LwfBRj4Wm7Z8mKeqkbZ7ofFhp6DzVgmRnXNiWth1mEi90qlZkL5IHea3mL_ckT3iyH2Twvk1Jy4ThtSHTc3DipppSoCNp6lBvosd-7waJeBEZ174jrsyYBCLgLVP5tF4/s320/Jen+at+Hula+Grill.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me on my "cheat night" at my favorite restaurant on Waikiki -- Hula Grill</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>Throughout the trip, he offered me everything from banana lumpia and cookies, to Egg Fu Young for breakfast and caramel corn. Oh, and malsadas, which is like a donut but with the hole. Malsadas, which is lighter and less dense than a regular donut, are fried and best eaten while hot. It wasn't hard to find Malsadas Trucks (and shrimp trucks) in Hawaii. I stayed away because I knew they were the enemy and I was battling the bulge.<br />
<br />
We joked about how his trying to tempt me with fatty foods was good training for trying to wear down any insurgents he might meet while deployed in Iraq. By my fourth night there, and after two sweaty, one-hour sessions at his gym at the Army Base, I gave in. It was his last full night before deployment and he wanted to go to a Thai restaurant for dinner. This was the evening we had originally planned to barbecue fish and I was going to make my Weight Watchers 2-point-per-serving corn and goat cheese salad.<br />
<br />
But, Thai food won out. I rationalized that he was going to be away from home for so long and that perhaps I was being a bit of a stick-in-the-mud over the diet thing. I ordered Pad Thai, my favorite, and figured that since my brother was leaving for Iraq the next day, perhaps it would give him some enjoyment. He managed to score a free, warm tapioca pudding when the waitress learned he was headed to Iraq. I waved my white flag, picked up my spoon and had some. It was delicous. <br />
<br />
So, when he offered to make me a Pina Colada after we got home from the Thai restaurant, I said, "Sure." For heaven's sake, he had even included a pineapple garnish...how do you say no to that?!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj24cDplvrpWsQh__j-ycR07cp3rQVxOlYIpL3Qp1097nywhX5L0VPidKx7O-VkOR_2bK4lsHVQ7-ewGmti4lfqyfM8jJm4gPEnE-R2ktpBIToRzLXNMDKOJVQovnOvvC2XRGf1T51Uq2A/s1600/IMG_8818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj24cDplvrpWsQh__j-ycR07cp3rQVxOlYIpL3Qp1097nywhX5L0VPidKx7O-VkOR_2bK4lsHVQ7-ewGmti4lfqyfM8jJm4gPEnE-R2ktpBIToRzLXNMDKOJVQovnOvvC2XRGf1T51Uq2A/s320/IMG_8818.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>It takes exactly four days to wear down an insurgent, I informed my brother.<br />
<br />
When it came time for his wife and me to drop him off at midnight on my fifth day there, it was surreal. There's no doubt that, while he would miss Girlie very much, he was definitely ready and excited to go to Iraq. He felt that until he actually deployed that he wasn't a "real soldier." This was an important step for him and he had been training for it for more than two years.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sZ7_65cKCgk1cTF3A3EhIc2rU1yAl3LeQaMdXvylEEjjoQSMt-6smldbykNUt9YOsCQpco2R9bJKp6e4enD1b1SXnyWGWa0Ji9nO1UOfI86Uuf3isCBhUfKrsbQwFgBkc4-Ve9L0kXI/s1600/IMG_8922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sZ7_65cKCgk1cTF3A3EhIc2rU1yAl3LeQaMdXvylEEjjoQSMt-6smldbykNUt9YOsCQpco2R9bJKp6e4enD1b1SXnyWGWa0Ji9nO1UOfI86Uuf3isCBhUfKrsbQwFgBkc4-Ve9L0kXI/s320/IMG_8922.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I was proud of him. But, it was so sad to see all of the army wives there waiting to hug and kiss their husbands for the last times in at least six months. (They'll be deployed approximately a year, but can take a 2-week vacation beginning in six months). And to see all of the sons and daughters in their pajamas, who waited there with the rest of us until around 3:30 a.m. when the last soldier had boarded the last bus...heartbreaking, simply heartbreaking. There was a moment when all of the soldiers were lined up in formation and there was one little boy who was running around yelling, "Daddy, daddy, daddy" trying to find his daddy in a sea of camoflage. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooeXYfi7VfGUfUsc8r1xr_dubmOQaA26_Qb47lzDz_AxXgx03dN4vdJZRueckI7Xmm5ludYvE0MyU320lBuD1dhDuybJVmLYhT5GnMdXV4jLB-w1UmbJ5mExtP7hRfm9lf7wTlVJCUMs/s1600/IMG_8890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooeXYfi7VfGUfUsc8r1xr_dubmOQaA26_Qb47lzDz_AxXgx03dN4vdJZRueckI7Xmm5ludYvE0MyU320lBuD1dhDuybJVmLYhT5GnMdXV4jLB-w1UmbJ5mExtP7hRfm9lf7wTlVJCUMs/s320/IMG_8890.JPG" /></a></div><br />
As Girlie and I drove back to their home on the base at 3:30 a.m., I had a much greater awareness and appreciation for the sacrifices that our men and women in the military make. But perhaps more inspiring was the sacrifice made by the families that they leave behind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNM3UFFeoLea3jGEaFkJMDhkYCKXu6kS6JObc29G9UTUWsCRSMao3tfO-mOQohdnvL7QiDwgZwFoTpaGkn7V9Nrp0n9g4q_gYT3vFYKR73ffrfGsmi2pmz2Bj1Oha5GtOoINfBdFTL5kg/s1600/IMG_8907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNM3UFFeoLea3jGEaFkJMDhkYCKXu6kS6JObc29G9UTUWsCRSMao3tfO-mOQohdnvL7QiDwgZwFoTpaGkn7V9Nrp0n9g4q_gYT3vFYKR73ffrfGsmi2pmz2Bj1Oha5GtOoINfBdFTL5kg/s320/IMG_8907.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Geoff and Girlie saying goodbye</span></em></div><br />
And suddenly, enjoying tapioca pudding and a Pina Colada with my brother the evening before he left didn't seem so sinful. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpsye8K9gEOcI1BVcC9cQUBdddwUgqc1EeYyCV0g4eAoZp-pi9fm16TJoAPebP2Ki5BexkVh5kzIM-KGXFQtLiYT2wtRASh5EuGq8O0PJNVj5DMbgUo5LXKzg5rbky0c3DDaDMGcTJi0/s1600/IMG_8862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpsye8K9gEOcI1BVcC9cQUBdddwUgqc1EeYyCV0g4eAoZp-pi9fm16TJoAPebP2Ki5BexkVh5kzIM-KGXFQtLiYT2wtRASh5EuGq8O0PJNVj5DMbgUo5LXKzg5rbky0c3DDaDMGcTJi0/s320/IMG_8862.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">So proud of my big brother!</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I'm happy to report that even though I cheated a bit more than originally planned during my week's stay in Hawaii, I lost 2.5 pounds since my last blog post two weeks ago. This brings my total weight loss to 26.5 pounds. I have 13.5 pounds to go to meet my 40-pound weight loss goal by my 40th birthday on August 15th.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr29CV60Um21HIkKIaGDg_54Gh4RMX8xqmZIPisEabZ5GIIguoP7YUD1igaYC1odSpmgFBdLf8Al0ObgoF8xoI9TSvePKRK2dYrtSCSfuaePNZftv3e0B0vujXpVIOCag2G35Bdo_OA_k/s1600/IMG_8909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr29CV60Um21HIkKIaGDg_54Gh4RMX8xqmZIPisEabZ5GIIguoP7YUD1igaYC1odSpmgFBdLf8Al0ObgoF8xoI9TSvePKRK2dYrtSCSfuaePNZftv3e0B0vujXpVIOCag2G35Bdo_OA_k/s320/IMG_8909.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Pretty sure this is against the rules, but I am on a mission!</span></em></div><br />
This is definitely going to be a nail-biter down to the finish, and I've begun working out every day this week to try to throw my body's metabolism into overdrive. And I can assure you, my muscles are sore!<br />
<br />
Here's this week's pic.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVN0u_wZbmRclMdEysfLBy7Q3zQhN3ctccnkgZv8Hb4pa0wSa6FelvQcliTLckTJkKGTppowf6CagyjCruOkTj8A1UZXfMAx4JukXch2S4XsgreOINRsebt6f428Z05YFqIWmYbIa4PLY/s1600/IMG_9022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVN0u_wZbmRclMdEysfLBy7Q3zQhN3ctccnkgZv8Hb4pa0wSa6FelvQcliTLckTJkKGTppowf6CagyjCruOkTj8A1UZXfMAx4JukXch2S4XsgreOINRsebt6f428Z05YFqIWmYbIa4PLY/s320/IMG_9022.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Until next week,<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><em>Jen</em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-56042150157606905032010-06-24T21:59:00.000-07:002010-06-24T22:00:45.247-07:00Sweet 16First, I must update all on my last post, which dealt with my foot injury and the blood test that showed I was positive for Rheumatoid Arthritis. The good news is that I visited the Rheumatologist on Monday of this week and she said I do NOT have Rheumatoid Arthritis. Woo hoo! Apparently some lucky people like me test positive because they have extra antibodies in their system and, since I've always been a bit of an overachiever, the fact that my body would provide more antibodies than I would need seems to make sense to me. <br />
<br />
That doesn't explain the random foot injury, but I'm going to make an assumption that the shoes I workout in are too old and don't give me the arch support I need when I work out. Just another reason to go out and buy new shoes!<br />
<br />
Now, onto the weight loss challenge....<br />
<br />
I hit a major milestone this week, earning myself another award at Tuesday's Weight Watchers meeting. This week, I celebrated my 16th week attending Weight Watchers. (Actually, it would have been 17 weeks if it hadn't been for last week's foot fiasco). They give a 16-week "clapping hands" award when you complete four months attending Weight Watchers meetings. This is a milestone because, as their research shows, if you make it to 16 meetings consecutively, you are more likely to make your goal weight. Come to think of it, in ALL time times I've gone back to Weight Watchers, I have <em>never</em> received the 16-week award, so this truly is a milestone. <br />
<br />
Plus, it marks another reason to get an award and a round of applause. Because, for those who know me best, it is all about the prizes. Although my husband's hopefully-soon-to-be-completed Master's Thesis would argue that extrensic motivation is not as important as intrensic motivation (at least in the classroom), I disagree. It's all about the 5-pound star stickers and the 10 % keychain, upon which my 25-pound weight loss ring and 16-week clapping hands are placed. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZDmyyCPyYtnixKoMRyOn4quya06SOiqb8PDbMqZ3tgZ-dfxgJb-cVm6eL1kFNKhi4T69q48DfnmVdbH33ty2CSsujnWxC1a6moz2DVee5CRwqhxFYcVINTtHJKYTf4Ns9I17sCMOUQw/s1600/keys4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZDmyyCPyYtnixKoMRyOn4quya06SOiqb8PDbMqZ3tgZ-dfxgJb-cVm6eL1kFNKhi4T69q48DfnmVdbH33ty2CSsujnWxC1a6moz2DVee5CRwqhxFYcVINTtHJKYTf4Ns9I17sCMOUQw/s320/keys4.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">My Weight Watchers weight loss bling</span></em></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I write today's blog post, I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'm leaving for Honolulu on an 8 a.m. flight out of Oakland for a business mixed with pleasure trip. Unfortunately, Christian and the kids aren't able to join me because we're saving our vacation money for a big trip to Disneyland at the end of July. I'm heading to Honolulu because the <em>Training Ship Golden Bear</em>, the training vessel of The California Maritime Academy (where I work) is going to be arriving on Monday and I'm going to be staffing an alumni reception and major scholarship fundraiser there, as well as coordinating logistics with local television crews that want to interview our students who will have just completed a two-month international training voyage.</div><br />
But, as an added bonus, I get to visit my brother, Geoff, and his wife, Girlie. Geoff is currently stationed at the Army's Schofield Barracks, which is just outside of Honolulu. He is being deployed to Iraq next week. The fact that his deployment coincides with my trip to Honolulu is perfect and I'm really looking forward to spending time with him and his Girlie before he leaves.<br />
<br />
I'm so proud of my brother. During a time when the industry he was working in tanked, he decided to make a move that would provide a more stable source of income, retirement, and a host of other wonderful benefits for him and his wife. He joined the Army at the age of 41. To answer your question, "Yes, you can join the army at that age!" Forty-two is now the cut off.<br />
<br />
Geoff endured many grueling weeks at boot camp in Ft. Knox, at twice the age of many of his fellow enlistees. But he did it. And boy was I proud of him when Will (who was then 8-years-old) and I flew out to see him graduate from boot camp at Ft. Knox. He looked amazing and had a renewed sense of confidence and focus.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLHjtXsBd6SZ0phpEaoR63zrkdqdTbTDAWiMPw-hVmq1XclRGZMRheQ6ikutut9VOxje8FIrb0Mx7fJjwRxNO19PNyXQdly2BYI5NuKuKY-IOhegl99YVB8KXHjgUE2LTWnPn7MFzCtI/s1600/Geoff+and+Will.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLHjtXsBd6SZ0phpEaoR63zrkdqdTbTDAWiMPw-hVmq1XclRGZMRheQ6ikutut9VOxje8FIrb0Mx7fJjwRxNO19PNyXQdly2BYI5NuKuKY-IOhegl99YVB8KXHjgUE2LTWnPn7MFzCtI/s320/Geoff+and+Will.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is one of my favorite pictures. This is Will (almost 2 years ago...I can't believe how much younger he looks) and my brother at the mall in Louisville, KY just after we attended his boot camp graduation at Ft. Knox.</span></em> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>And next week he'll deploy for a year. He says he'll have Internet access, so I'm hoping he's able to follow my blog because he's been a great cheerleader for me during this weight loss process. Geoff, please take care of yourself and know how proud we are all of you for turning your life around. And when you come back in a year, we'll have a big party and won't count our points at all! Deal?<br />
<br />
Ah, now, onto counting points and going to Hawaii. I'm very very nervious about this trip and keeping on my diet. I'm already packed and have packed my workout gear and my brother says there are plenty of places on base to work out. I've also packed my favorite Weight Watchers "Almond Sensation Bars", which are simply amazing and have been a staple for me pre-workout and for breakfast. My strategy is "fish and fruit"...if I can stick with those, I should be good. We are going to the Hula Grill, my favorite restaurant in Hawaii, as a send-off and, yes, I may very well have some Hula Pie and a Lava Flow. But, I will do my best to repeat my fish and fruit mantra as best as I can and work my butt off at the gym there.<br />
<br />
I had a good week of working out and eating right. I was successfully able to take the four pounds back off that I put on mysteriously last week after my foot injury. So, I'm back at a 24-pound weight loss and feeling great.<br />
<br />
I won't have a blog post next week since I'll still be in Hawaii. So you'll have to wait two weeks until my next update, which will hopefully be a good one.<br />
<br />
Here's this week's picture!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKBv7iJX3RgYf9xmH7t4DRCyH5ajIqn4xNqfHQ9P7gkq0ZwY5p0sa3el6SoXE-BdGB7hyBqoIyeMkekJGZsY5CfQhOl7Q367lrNVwiFelaUwB_TGTqehiylB-JnEhJ6voD2sJoFtE_3M/s1600/06+24+10+40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKBv7iJX3RgYf9xmH7t4DRCyH5ajIqn4xNqfHQ9P7gkq0ZwY5p0sa3el6SoXE-BdGB7hyBqoIyeMkekJGZsY5CfQhOl7Q367lrNVwiFelaUwB_TGTqehiylB-JnEhJ6voD2sJoFtE_3M/s320/06+24+10+40+by+40+pic.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Aloha,<br />
<em><span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Jen</span></em>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-17537503549982831282010-06-17T18:04:00.000-07:002010-06-17T18:22:13.816-07:00Got Thrown a Curveball<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>To follow up on my last week's blog post, I'm pleased to report that our son's baseball team -- the Benicia Minor A Cardinals -- won the championship game last Friday, earning them the top spot for the season, not to mention a photo in the <em>Benicia Herald</em>. To make a great week even better, Will's All-Star team won the all-star game!<br />
<br />
Cheers to the Cardinal's for an exciting season...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtvOFBOXCeSebKTUz_nLbhDc0qYuztKitreGpLt0J0_I7leiAPQ6dQLLrqrc3Pq7SauCteETtGeL8h_-JXf9-QKGyMW3NIyP4wc_AbqfdsHM_bsawzJUgrm0u6RP950JsSxqus6WzoD0E/s1600/Champs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtvOFBOXCeSebKTUz_nLbhDc0qYuztKitreGpLt0J0_I7leiAPQ6dQLLrqrc3Pq7SauCteETtGeL8h_-JXf9-QKGyMW3NIyP4wc_AbqfdsHM_bsawzJUgrm0u6RP950JsSxqus6WzoD0E/s320/Champs.JPG" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Will (second from the left in the back) and his Cardinal's teammates and coaches.</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="left">..and cheers to Will, our handsome little All-Star!</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><em><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
<div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqu8R1-oDIeafJpUy1AJ-ksLY-9etiFVSQjsqKy5Hbbhycw62S3Ez2F3COlI_tbTJjBYGaHvvHB77Tp_6kCGDXjnAH1Zd_k6OXnOGv5C323OL-VHW-GhB5JzES1llYb8Ws80p5Rzr1Wi0/s1600/IMG_8677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqu8R1-oDIeafJpUy1AJ-ksLY-9etiFVSQjsqKy5Hbbhycw62S3Ez2F3COlI_tbTJjBYGaHvvHB77Tp_6kCGDXjnAH1Zd_k6OXnOGv5C323OL-VHW-GhB5JzES1llYb8Ws80p5Rzr1Wi0/s320/IMG_8677.JPG" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>To carry on with the baseball theme, I had a bit of a curveball thrown at me this week. I'm sharing this against my husband's wishes. "No need to worry anyone unnecessarily," he's told me. But, heck, I haven't been "obeying" since the Baptist preacher at our wedding threw in the whole "honor and obey" bit during our vows (the look on my face and smile on my husband's face at that point in the wedding video is priceless). <br />
<br />
The way I see it is this blog chronicles the ups and downs of weight loss and life as I approach my 40th birthday. I can't hold back now. So, here goes...<br />
<br />
I woke up Tuesday morning with the alarm clock buzzing at 6:00 a.m. That's the time I set it for the night before thinking I'd actually squeeze a workout in before going to work. It was clear that going to the gym would be out of the question, given the intense pain in my right foot. I couldn't even walk on it and literally had to hop to the bathroom. It got worse and worse and was reminiscent of a similar incident I'd had about six years ago following a faculty/staff vs. students softball game at the college I work at. <br />
<br />
After that game, I'd gone home only to discover a couple hours later that I couldn't walk on my foot. I hadn't injured it during the game, so it was a bit of a mystery. I drove myself to the emergency room (not one of my better ideas) because it was Will's bedtime and I thought it would be best if my husband stayed home with him. I tried to hop to the ER entrance until a nice lady brought out a wheelchair for me. The x-ray taken back then didn't show anything broken, and I was told it was just a sprain. So I hobbled home with the crutches they gave me and my tail between my legs feeling like the old, out-of-shape, former high school softball player that I was. The next morning, my foot was fine.<br />
<br />
The episode this Tuesday felt the same. And I was cursing myself for getting rid of those wooden crutches from six years ago as I hobbled, hopped and held onto my husband's arm as we arrived to the doctor's office along with our kids.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, they had a set of crutches, even though they were mismatched and had seen better days. I gladly took them and did my best to maneuver myself around with them while not breaking my neck. The doctor was a bit perplexed by my sudden onslaught of pain. He asked if I had had an abnormally hard sleep the night before. I hadn't. He poked and prodded various parts of my foot and ruled out gout and planters fasciitis. I was pleased because they both sounded pretty nasty.<br />
<br />
Then he said, just to be sure, he wanted me to get some lab work done to test for rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, and lyme disease, and also to test the general percentage of swelling in my body (or something to that effect). Then, he wanted me to get an x-ray and prescribed an anti-inflamatory.<br />
<br />
And before we knew it, there was our plan for Christian's and the kids' Summer Break: Day 7. We went to the lab, got my blood drawn, drove to John Muir in Concord, waited in the waiting room, got my x-ray, drove to Raley's, and picked up my prescription. <br />
<br />
Trying to navigate around on crutches with the most excruciating pain you can imagine was brutal. And the simple bumping on the freeway in our car jarred my right foot enough that it nearly brought me to tears. When we got to the parking lot, the thought of having to make my way on crutches all the way across the parking lot, down the long corridor to the radiology department did cause me to have a brief meltdown. Fortunately, a nice man in a red polo shirt, I believe he was a volunteer for the hospital, wheeled out a wheelchair and pushed me to the radiology waiting room. Bless him.<br />
<br />
After a bit of a wait, we finished the x-ray and Christian wheeled me out with our three-year-old daughter Piper on my lap. She sucked her thumb, like she does when she gets tired. It had been a long day already, for both of us.<br />
<br />
The next day, I stayed home from work again. My ankle/foot was still swollen and hurt, but I was able to walk without the crutches. The doctor called late that afternoon and told me that the x-ray turned out fine, but that my lab work turned up positive for rheumatoid arthritis. Of course, he added, sometimes these tests turn up false positives.<br />
<br />
I could joke about how I'm falling apart the closer I get to 40-years-old, particularly given the theme of my blog. But I can't quite bring myself to make light of it. I think I've spent too much time on Wikipedia and WebMD, not to mention the message boards for those dealing with rheumatoid arthritis. If that ain't enough to scare you.<br />
<br />
Hopefully the doctor is right, maybe it is a false positive. But somehow, with the knee issue I was having and my other foot incident six years ago, I'm starting to wonder if there is something to it. I'll learn more after my first visit with the Rheumatologist on Monday.<br />
<br />
With all that's gone on the last few days, the impact of a 3-pound weight gain this week hasn't hit me as hard as it might have before. Perhaps some of it is water weight....my ankle is still pretty swollen. I kept on track with my diet this week, so the weight gain is a bit of a medical mystery as well.<br />
<br />
I told myself I was going to get back to the gym tonight since I haven't gone since last Sunday. But, I think I'm going to feel sorry for myself for one more evening. Instead, I'm going to kick my feet up on the couch, put an ice pack on my right foot, watch the NBA Finals with my family, and have a glass of 2-point Chardonnay.<br />
<br />
Here's this week's pic.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheWnrJB5Y_SwPqWR6wRdSKnHP1_-Iu-ipWg91MiYupFZKpVG0f-SIiEIsfUjRsOItPzOoAkkeIDlusAp-Bfbtnwq1-s8b2RHKb1ZFvAULXiPqMvuqA0kQflurRQn9TtVXSfMPLGr3wNo/s1600/IMG_8686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheWnrJB5Y_SwPqWR6wRdSKnHP1_-Iu-ipWg91MiYupFZKpVG0f-SIiEIsfUjRsOItPzOoAkkeIDlusAp-Bfbtnwq1-s8b2RHKb1ZFvAULXiPqMvuqA0kQflurRQn9TtVXSfMPLGr3wNo/s320/IMG_8686.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Until next week,<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><em>Jen </em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-1029617816662503462010-06-11T00:54:00.000-07:002010-06-11T00:54:56.488-07:00An All-Star WeekGummy worms = 5 cents each<br />
Gatorade = $2.00<br />
Frito Boat with chili and nacho cheese = $2.50<br />
Losing another 1.5 pounds this week = Priceless.<br />
<br />
It seems like many of my blog posts have a bit of a baseball tie-in, primarily because I started my diet just about the time my son's baseball season started. So bear with me for another baseball-themed blog, but this one might be my favorite yet.<br />
<br />
I volunteered for six hours, three different days this week in the canteen at the Benicia Little League baseball field. Why, you ask? Well, the truth is that the Whitty household's mandatory six-hours of volunteer service per child participating in the league fell between the cracks. This is due primarily to the fact that our 10-year-old son Will was "called up" from his Minor B Padres team to the Minor A Cardinals team early on in the season. We hadn't yet fufilled our canteen duties on the Padres team because our shifts hadn't come up yet at the point when he switched teams. And by the time he joined the Cardinals, they already had their canteen/snack parents schedule completed. So, in order to save the $75 we would have had to pay for not volunteering this season, I decided to be Benicia Little League's Volunteer of the Week, staffing the canteen at Maria Field three times.<br />
<br />
The truth is, I've ALWAYS wanted to work in the canteen, but never needed to because, up until this season, my husband always fulfilled our volunteer hours by coaching. I have so many fond memories of playing softball when I was a kid and getting to go to the "snack shack" after the game to buy Fun Dip, a hot dog and a Dr. Pepper. In fact, the trip to the snack shack was as much of a highlight as the game itself. Truth be told, it actually may have been <em>better</em> than the actual game. So, it was honestly really fun to volunteer this week making young kids' days by counting out their gummy works, smothering their nachos with cheese, and grabbing their Gatorade.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDb-6y6CZ-5YyA4QgaibFYuzF7RGUkfoOSsuGwZ1zMJY0Bz9v1L8q3SRzmuwjv9uQUblTWr1F97OAwuhftfoNtZbyb_Np5_F_PUHnwihwQJqcJtUHGaELzYzgVWYYLs-zIYouVtbQzeI4/s1600/IMG_8638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDb-6y6CZ-5YyA4QgaibFYuzF7RGUkfoOSsuGwZ1zMJY0Bz9v1L8q3SRzmuwjv9uQUblTWr1F97OAwuhftfoNtZbyb_Np5_F_PUHnwihwQJqcJtUHGaELzYzgVWYYLs-zIYouVtbQzeI4/s320/IMG_8638.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Workin' it at the canteen</span></em></div><br />
Don't get me wrong, I was nervous. Really nervous. I wasn't quite sure how I'd handle scooping up creamy nacho cheese and pouring it into the "small boat" filled with round tortilla chips. (The "small boat" is then placed inside a "big boat" to capture any overflowing cheese.) The truth is, with each serving of nachos I dipped up, it never got easier. Nachos have always been a weakness of mine. Nevertheless, I stuck to my guns and never once partook in anything more than a Diet RC Cola from the soda fountain.<br />
<br />
As proud as I am of myself, there's another member of the family who has me beaming with pride -- our son Will. As I mentioned, Will was called up early in the season from the Minor B league Padres team to the Minor A league Cardinals. When it happened, he was beyond thrilled, but I was a little bit worried that he'd have trouble adjusting to a new team when the season had already begun. He has always been a more reserved, shy boy, and really, really sensitive. So when he struck out each time he was at bat for the first few games, I worried he'd get discouraged. <br />
<br />
One of the things he mentioned to us when he was called up was that he wasn't as good as the other players and that would mean he wouldn't make the All-Star team like he did last year. My husband asked him if he'd rather play with a higher caliber of teammates, or be the best person on the team. Will agreed he'd rather be playing with a more competitive team. <br />
<br />
So Will kept at it and kept at it until he began hitting in-field triples and doubles and quickly earned the nickname of "Will Power." Every time he goes to bat, you'll hear the parents in the stands chanting, "Will Power!" That's not to say he doesn't occasionally strike out. In fact, each time he does, it's hard for him to fight back the tears welling up in his eyes. We keep reminding him that in the big leagues, when a player gets one hit out of three times at bat, that is considered <em>good</em>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUm3UkCfMJWu0bDH_Tvx9ZgYbn3KlbiL1k5Z7jW7eQlNfZ27truJUpNV5xuxVaAJVC1pn33Dp7AMJluOB34bxyHZIAJs5d7YJAO9-_yjnmJkgl75cqIZAb2acDULj_HvSAgfPOxZgj80/s1600/IMG_8415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUm3UkCfMJWu0bDH_Tvx9ZgYbn3KlbiL1k5Z7jW7eQlNfZ27truJUpNV5xuxVaAJVC1pn33Dp7AMJluOB34bxyHZIAJs5d7YJAO9-_yjnmJkgl75cqIZAb2acDULj_HvSAgfPOxZgj80/s320/IMG_8415.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Will Power!</span></em></div><br />
Will's team finished the regular season in 2nd place. They won their first two games in the single-elimination post season tournament, earning them the right to play in the championship game tomorrow night. (By the time you read this, it will actually be "today"...the game is Friday at 5:30 p.m.) The first place team lost their second game of the tournament, so the Cardinal's are going into tomorrow's game against the A's with the better record. We are very excited and encourage anyone who reads this and is in the area to come on down to Benicia's Community Park to root for the Cardinals!<br />
<br />
And tonight, we had quite another surprise, aided in part by my volunteering in the canteen. When Peggy, the former bartender turned Canteen Coordinator, and I were cleaning up the outside table displaying ketchup, jalapeno peppers, mustard and other condiments, I noticed a group of parents and kids huddled around the bulletin board. Curious about what they were looking at, I walked over to see what all the interest was about. The players who were selected to the All-Star team in the varoius divisions in Benicia Little League were just freshly posted. I casually looked through the names, not thinking too much of it, when Will Whitty's name appeared as one of the four players selected from the Cardinals to play on the All-Star team. When I was sharing my excitement with Canteen Coordinator Peggy, one of the league's board members happened to hear me and asked who my son was. When I told him Will Whitty, he said, "Oh, sure, I know him. He was actually the <em>only</em> player who was called up from Minor Bs to make the All-Star team."<br />
<br />
I was bursting at the seams (fortunately <em>not</em> due to my weight, now that I've lost 24 pounds so far, leaving me with 16 more to lose by my 40th birthday on August 15th). I couldn't wait to go home and tell him the exciting news! He is over-the-moon excited! After the news sank in a bit, I went into his room and sat down on the bed next to him and asked what he's learned through all of this. <br />
<br />
He said, "I learned that even if you're called up to the next league and you think the other players hit better than you and play better than you, you just have to keep on trying and practicing, and never lose hope."<br />
<br />
Talk about priceless.<br />
<br />
Until next week,<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><em>Jen</em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-43349074117416824582010-06-03T22:06:00.000-07:002010-06-03T22:08:57.402-07:00Working (Out) MomIt's not easy being a full-time working mom with two kids. But to be a full-time working mom trying to lose 40 pounds by her 40th birthday finding time to attend weekly Weight Watchers meetings while also working out at the gym at least four nights a week, chronicling it all in a blog, well it's darned near impossible. <br />
<br />
That's why I'm pleased to report that this week I lost another two pounds, bringing my total weight loss to 22.5 pounds!<br />
<br />
I'm writing this blog during the very brief break I have while my husband goes to the store to get some items for his last day of work for this year's school year. He teaches a 4th/5th grade combo class and he's doing his annual all-nighter finishing up report cards. The only time I get to work on this blog is the amount of time it takes him to drive down the hill to Raley's and then to Starbuck's to get gifts for the parents who helped out in his class this year.<br />
<br />
While I write this week's blog, our son Will is writing thank you notes to his teacher and the two daycare ladies who have watched him every day after school since he's been in Kindergarten. He's also writing his final thank you note for his birthday gifts, this one to my dad and his wife, Debbie. I'm doing my best to crank out this week's blog with constant interruptions, like....<br />
<br />
<em>Will: How do you spell terrific? It is T-E-R-R-I-F-I-C?</em><br />
<em>Me: Yes</em><br />
<br />
This week was extra challenging to get to the gym. But I'm pleased to say I was able to four times, despite my son's baseball game that went into extra innings (sooooo exciting!) and an evening my husband spent at the Giants Game, which resulted in me hauling the kids to the gym so they could play in the daycare room while I got a workout in.<br />
<br />
<em>Will: I wrote a B when I meant to write a D. Does it look like a D? </em><br />
<em>Me: They're not going to care."</em><br />
<br />
<em>Will: How do you spell Debbie?</em><br />
<em>Me: D-E-B-B-I-E</em><br />
<br />
I kicked my workouts up a bit this week and tried to vary my routine a bit to keep my body guessing, hoping the uncertainty would kick up my metabolism. Each day I did my usual 33 minute workout on the elliptical machine, but kicked it up on the level so by tonight I was on Level 10. (Oh no, my husband just got home, I'll have to hurry this up so he can get back on the computer.) On top of that, one night I did the treadmill, running 10 minutes and walking quickly on a steep incline for 5 minutes.The other three workouts I did the recumbant bicycle on Level 10 on the random hill setting (NOT easy). The worst is when the bicycle pauses for you when you're having trouble keeping up. It makes you feel like such a failure.<br />
<br />
<em>Me: Will, you also need to write the envelopes for Mrs. Wida, Teresita and Leslie.</em><br />
<em>Will: Why do I have to write envelopes?</em><br />
<em>Me: Because it's nice</em>.<br />
<br />
<em>Will: How do you spell Leslie?</em><br />
<em>Me: L-E-S-L-I-E</em><br />
<em>Will: Ah, man, I spelled it wrong in the card! I wrote L-E-S-L-A-L-I-E.</em><br />
<em>Me: Just cross it out and fix it.</em><br />
<br />
The great thing about working out is I get to add Weight Watchers points to my daily diet, which you can use to eat more each day or bank and add to your weekly 35 bonus points. The duration and intentisy of my workouts earns me 3 extra points each time I work out. So far, this week, I already have 9 bonus points banked. That may come in handy given that I'm working the canteen this Saturday for my son's Little League Game. I'm worried about the endless supply of nachos I'll be in charge of during my shift. You <em>know</em> how much I love nachos!<br />
<br />
<em>Will: Mommy, I'm done.</em><br />
<em>Me: Ok, go brush your teeth.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Will: Are you going to tuck me in?</em><br />
<em>Me: When I'm done with this.</em><br />
<em>Will: Okay</em><br />
<br />
Well, both my son and my husband have been patient enough waiting for me to finish this, so I'll close with this week's picture of me, taken by my son while my husband was doing report cards. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP332qjoGANzg9waOrnsB-Kt8yk0Xk_thz7bdaTqnSuXeN6klm1JnISOH2L70Xt36qUXsOOOStOLHQvGO6lCvbr6sEmzvT6O-od_EuCannq5kgbIuyI2xNqeLuWVZ1I_dR5-BUPymDGbw/s1600/06+03+10+40+by+40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP332qjoGANzg9waOrnsB-Kt8yk0Xk_thz7bdaTqnSuXeN6klm1JnISOH2L70Xt36qUXsOOOStOLHQvGO6lCvbr6sEmzvT6O-od_EuCannq5kgbIuyI2xNqeLuWVZ1I_dR5-BUPymDGbw/s320/06+03+10+40+by+40.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Until next week,<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><em>Jen</em></span>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-83533193887750065612010-05-28T02:04:00.000-07:002010-05-28T02:05:16.707-07:0014 "Glorious" YearsI just got back from seeing <em>Sex and the City 2</em> with a group of girlfriends (thus the very late time of this blog post). The movie continues the story of Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha as they struggle to manage their love lives, friendships and careers in New York City. As always, Samantha was a hoot. Charlotte attempted to juggle the challenges of motherhood with the help of her hot nanny. Miranda tried to find the perfect balance between career woman and mommy. And Carrie and Mr. Big struggled with how to keep their relationship from getting stale after two years of marriage. (Turns out, a black diamond ring may just do the trick.) <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EicDq7JKiCFoURv-ZtlmcFXoVBvFOP9wzjf_P2fCfh7iumTjVMb1rewRcbX4zE0FX4DbMgd8-MMea6x7VcvqCIz1lphakNHD4mOyPw_dfYGTyzmvjOovjSWT-ik4N0v0Qu54syuNmBo/s1600/sexandthecity2-mv-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EicDq7JKiCFoURv-ZtlmcFXoVBvFOP9wzjf_P2fCfh7iumTjVMb1rewRcbX4zE0FX4DbMgd8-MMea6x7VcvqCIz1lphakNHD4mOyPw_dfYGTyzmvjOovjSWT-ik4N0v0Qu54syuNmBo/s320/sexandthecity2-mv-6.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The ladies of Sex and the City 2 get a chance to visit one of the most extravagant </span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">vacation </span></em><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">destinations </span></em><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">on the planet.</span></em></div><br />
Before the movie, we decided to get a drink, something I anticipated so I fit in a workout at the gym and quick shower before we left. I knew the 35 minutes on the elliptical trainer would be enough for me to earn two additional Weight Watchers points, which just so happens is the points value of a glass of Chardonnay. For fun, I decided to try on some of the blue jeans that were folded on the top shelf of my closet to see if they would fit well enough to wear to the movies. The jeans had been perched there for a couple of years, just waiting for me to shed some weight so I can fit into them again. My size 14 jeans are pretty baggy now, so I weeded through the Size 8 and 10 jeans and settled on the Size 12 ones, which fit just about right after a couple of deep knee bends. <br />
<br />
I skipped dinner so I could save enough points to enjoy a small bag of Hot Tamales candy at the movie. I sneaked the store-bought candy in my purse because I didn't want to be tempted to buy the super jumbo box at the theater. Pre-diet, I could easily consume the super large box of Hot Tamales and a small box of buttered popcorn, which, next to Mexican Food and a margarita, is definitely a weakness for me.<br />
<br />
But tonight, instead of movie theater popcorn, I ordered soft pretzel nuggets, without the cheese dipping sauce. At first I thought it was a good choice, until I realized all of the butter the nuggets were soaked in, much of which leaked out of the box and onto my Size 12 jeans. After this blog post, I'll be soaking them overnight and sleeping with my fingers crossed that the butter will wash out because, after all, a lot of work went into me fitting into those jeans again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqpYjTjrW0oEnwnUrNSTvvoDjeL8q_4d8szc8ew8rldRT0yk-ZqKvyY1buCInN2tdazwSXjzg_itfQIfdqKIxSgVsQM8pAGUZip31T6LTlgU0jvDedYBllu8FZbZP769N1nvrJN0AQ2k/s1600/IMG_8435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqpYjTjrW0oEnwnUrNSTvvoDjeL8q_4d8szc8ew8rldRT0yk-ZqKvyY1buCInN2tdazwSXjzg_itfQIfdqKIxSgVsQM8pAGUZip31T6LTlgU0jvDedYBllu8FZbZP769N1nvrJN0AQ2k/s320/IMG_8435.JPG" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me at the theater in my Size 12 jeans, complete with the butter stains on both legs.</span></em></div><br />
On Tuesday of this week my husband Christian and I celebrated a milestone -- 14 years of marriage. Woops, I should say 14 "glorious" years, as my husband likes to sarcastically point out. Carrie and Mr. Big have nothing on us! As I mentioned in last week's post, I'm a social eater so celebrations are typically a challenge for me to enjoy in moderation. We decided that we will celebrate our anniversary with a date night this weekend, so this week I'm banking all my bonus points for that meal. However, we still wanted to do something to celebrate with the kids on Tuesday, and I worried how I'd be able to do that and stick within my 21 daily points allowance.<br />
<br />
Christian made a delicious Seared Scallops with White Beans and Bacon recipe from his <em>Men's Health Magazine</em>, a surprisingly low-point recipe he's been wanting to try for a while. It was delicious -- and so elegant!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzLinWN49pUN0ZlFFbv21Em_-uRvSs3royJinG7ok7vJJPylgGJpJYl_BYfqFVqeCmtJfdciHq84zkJay9KtZEKjBPzkX9a7lWyXJXn5u3umm9u8FPxWinZkRGeTq3E_NUTuTlTQWMpc/s1600/scallops+recipe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzLinWN49pUN0ZlFFbv21Em_-uRvSs3royJinG7ok7vJJPylgGJpJYl_BYfqFVqeCmtJfdciHq84zkJay9KtZEKjBPzkX9a7lWyXJXn5u3umm9u8FPxWinZkRGeTq3E_NUTuTlTQWMpc/s320/scallops+recipe.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Seared Scallops with White Beans and Bacon....so yummy!</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>While we feasted on our meal, the kids enjoyed grilled cheese sandwiches. We ate by candlelight illuminating the table from the tin can lantern Will had brought home that day from school.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_B5vyW0TOPq8A4WFzUNXuCtCpcmP0idpc2gD6a7tT_0BeuNjJ3Dk_9RMwPkAn2K7dxs1j8oSq2uVr6lbFyz2V8T18ydOrJr7nXwoIgFzWEjkPc0nt4wtDb4_829Sf4y6C5iUgSNHZXy4/s1600/will+at+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_B5vyW0TOPq8A4WFzUNXuCtCpcmP0idpc2gD6a7tT_0BeuNjJ3Dk_9RMwPkAn2K7dxs1j8oSq2uVr6lbFyz2V8T18ydOrJr7nXwoIgFzWEjkPc0nt4wtDb4_829Sf4y6C5iUgSNHZXy4/s320/will+at+table.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Will's tin can lantern was the perfect finishing touch to our anniversary dinner table.</span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The morning of our anniversary, Christian had left out a chilled can of Diet Pepsi with a note saying "Enjoy Now" next to a bottle of champagne that said, "Enjoy Later." I decided to surprise him by making Chocolate Covered Strawberries and dipped Madeline cookies for dessert, something I knew he and the kids would enjoy. I bought some fat free Cool Whip for me that I could dip plain strawberries in, which was actually a really nice low-point treat along with the champagne. I did treat myself to one chocolate dipped strawberry and some champagne.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpyZT9s75gPVoFoLHb_kH-uSDIu7zWhNW7PxvvSeV2ZMWzXkwChYOCvg2VrBxQPdzh-dS667e-Nr7ZR-kZjIymH8m6t7sdAnHL8YFpnuyGzYUxFT2zFUJ_5EsErphrtn3FTtES11hD6E/s1600/IMG_8396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpyZT9s75gPVoFoLHb_kH-uSDIu7zWhNW7PxvvSeV2ZMWzXkwChYOCvg2VrBxQPdzh-dS667e-Nr7ZR-kZjIymH8m6t7sdAnHL8YFpnuyGzYUxFT2zFUJ_5EsErphrtn3FTtES11hD6E/s320/IMG_8396.JPG" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Isn't this just beautiful? I was pretty darned impressed with my display that I just had to take a picture.</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was thrilled when I entered my points to my Weight Watchers online tracker that between dinner, dessert, champagne, and my modest breakfast and lunch, I used exactly 21 points that day. I was able to stay within my daily allowance, even with a little bit of indulgence.</span> </span><span style="font-size: small;">That is <em>definitely</em> worth celebrating!</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">This week's weight loss was more modest than last week's 3-pound loss. I lost .5 pounds this week, bringing my total weight loss to 20.5 pounds. This week, my goal is to "kick it up a notch" with extra exercise, something I haven't been able to fit in as much as I'd like in the last couple of weeks.</span></span></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8UKmAYszMT-ipWNPq16RGKPxud6J2Y9lgtWgg_EkXz_21QcM5oTAWYNSdIVHF8Vv1Yi7MugrgpzVIjCFxn7DjJgN3yPj3OJb_CC_mj_YUUckVPWeww60KWYcY7y5UnCv1JL1-NKbWU0/s1600/img_8434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8UKmAYszMT-ipWNPq16RGKPxud6J2Y9lgtWgg_EkXz_21QcM5oTAWYNSdIVHF8Vv1Yi7MugrgpzVIjCFxn7DjJgN3yPj3OJb_CC_mj_YUUckVPWeww60KWYcY7y5UnCv1JL1-NKbWU0/s320/img_8434.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm going to have to let these jeans loosen up a bit more before I can kick like the Karate Kid.</span></em></div><br />
<br />
<div align="left"><br />
</div><br />
<div align="left"><br />
</div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-81302504192590875562010-05-21T00:58:00.000-07:002010-05-21T09:41:03.327-07:0020-20 HindsightWow, what a week! I lost three pounds over the last seven days, bringing my total weight loss to 20 pounds. With about three months away until my 40th birthday, I am at the half-way mark of my 40-pound weight loss goal! <br />
<br />
It's been quite a ride since I originally decided to go public with my weight loss challenge to myself. To celebrate my 20 pounds milestone, I thought I'd take a trip down memory lane and list the top things I've learned about myself, weight loss, and life.<br />
<br />
<strong>You've got to dig down deep to find what will really motivate you. </strong>For me, it was the public accountability that I needed to really be successful at losing weight. For many people, that approach wouldn't work. But for me, putting it out there on record for the world to see has made me much more accountable. I've been in several situations since I started my weight loss effort -- be it a tempting food situation or a day where I don't want to go to the gym even though I should -- and I think about my blog and all of the messages of support I have received, and it keeps me going and motivates me to do the right thing. Other people might be motivated to lose weight by setting a goal of participating in a marathon or triathalon, or trying out for Survivor (yes, someone who reads my blog did that and made it a couple of rounds!). None of these would have worked for me, and it just took me really digging deep to figure out what would.<br />
<br />
<strong>I'm a social eater. </strong>I've always been jealous of the people that lose weight when they are under stress. I'm not an emotional eater. I don't pig out when I'm stressed, stuff my face when I'm sad, or binge when I'm frustrated. I'm a social eater, one that uses food to celebrate. But the problem was, I'd always find a reason to celebrate. It's Friday! It's the last day of school! Will got an A on his report! It's Saturday! It's payday! My self-designated celebratory meals and social events are where I historically tended to get in trouble. We rarely eat out anymore, and when we do, my choices are a lot less cheesy and creamy. When we go to social gatherings, I make it a point to arm myself with healthy options. I also bank my additional exercise points and weekly bonus points when I know I have a big party to go to over the weekend. And I get a pedicure instead of a pizza when I'm proud of myself.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgep2XpNKzalZCe2V-qjAunFnXG2Dn7PfoaQ5hWfh9fFJDa1uFhmqTcMDA7J2-yEDO-kxNy6o9oihmQFoWNKxw7tyFTFUxr8CqGtgue6uSpv6EQajYQX_gfZN0_zTdGEckD3hg5QB1p9Uo/s1600/IMG_6758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgep2XpNKzalZCe2V-qjAunFnXG2Dn7PfoaQ5hWfh9fFJDa1uFhmqTcMDA7J2-yEDO-kxNy6o9oihmQFoWNKxw7tyFTFUxr8CqGtgue6uSpv6EQajYQX_gfZN0_zTdGEckD3hg5QB1p9Uo/s320/IMG_6758.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Celebrating at a crab feed!</span></em></div><br />
<strong>It takes a village. </strong>I have been so blessed to have such a wonderful and supportive husband helping me behind-the-scenes of my weight loss effort. He makes my lunch every day! Sure, I think his original motivation was to save us money so I wouldn't buy my lunch out all the time. But once I really got committed to losing weight, he began faithfully packing my lunch with Lean Cuisines, Greek Yogurt, fruit, veggies, 2-point Weight Watchers Almond Sensation Bars (the best!) and Vitamin Water. Andrea has been a great workout buddy and we keep each other accountable, making sure we get our butts of the couch and onto the recumbant bikes and elliptical machines at Benicia Health and Fitness. My Weight Watchers leader, Norma, and my fellow Tuesday night Weight Watchers friends are a must-have to celebrate all of the 5-pound milestones. After all, it's all about the 5-point stars and the rounds of applause!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXV4T3rKyvYyxNK3EW_TgCMT8cJKhGSepr5Ub5-DBRMWR9dWJEfZCystzMF24tNCXNC6bpSsm1ZpytSMzIEZnza10ILYTdG7WeqMrJyOR1f12QYWguyzQwQqNi5WtQX449iz8hBL2jXw/s1600/christian2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXV4T3rKyvYyxNK3EW_TgCMT8cJKhGSepr5Ub5-DBRMWR9dWJEfZCystzMF24tNCXNC6bpSsm1ZpytSMzIEZnza10ILYTdG7WeqMrJyOR1f12QYWguyzQwQqNi5WtQX449iz8hBL2jXw/s320/christian2.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">My husband the lunch-maker and official Christmas-tree-cutter-downer</span></em></div><br />
<strong>Motivation is contagious. </strong>When I first started my Jen's 40 by 40 blog, my only goal was to keep me accountable to lose weight. I really hadn't considered that I would inspire others to adopt healthier lifestyles as well. But now I have a handful of friends who, inspired by my blog, have embarked on weight loss challenges of their own. Who knew? <br />
<br />
<strong>Don't take yourself too seriously.</strong> A co-worker of mine suggested I watch Kirstie Allie's Big Life, a reality show that chronicles the actress's latest attempt to lose weight. One night, I decided to watch it. If you have seen it, you'll know that Kirstie enlists her hefty handyman, Jim, in her battle with the bulge. She makes Jim participate in weigh-ins with her, go through rigorous workouts, and frequently embarrass himself. In the episode I saw, Kirstie had six-pack abs spray painted on Jim -- a technique she noted is common in Hollywood. It was so hilarious to see his "six pack" abs sprayed onto his enormous bulging belly. Likewise, Jason Alexander, who played George in <em>Seinfeld</em>, recently donned spandex (and then the "full monty") on a commercial that celebrated his 30-pound weight loss on Jenny Craig. Here's a link if you haven't yet seen it: <a href="http://www.jennycraig.com/commercial/jason. ">http://www.jennycraig.com/commercial/jason. </a> I think a sense of humor is important when battling the bulge, and my blog has helped me add a little sense of fun and humor into my own effort.<br />
<br />
<strong>Exercise won't kill you.</strong> Now that I've been going to the gym 3-4 days/week, some of my friends have asked me if I find exercise addicting. The answer is no. But, what I can say is that I definitely can't envision exercise <em>NOT</em> being a regular part of my life. This is a HUGE transformation for me. After nearly six weeks of working out My knee pain is virtually gone, which if you read the week's post about the months and months of pain I'd been having, that's really significant. I thought for sure I'd need surgery to fix it, but it turns out that exercising has helped strengthen it enough to make the pain go away. It's interesting that simple vanity didn't do enough to motivate me to work out all these years. I guess that's because it's easy to hide flabby thighs in jeans, tights and skirts. But what <em>has</em> kept me motivated to work out this time, is my desire to strengthen myself so I don't have do deal with joint pain and other aches associated with gettting older. I want to be strong, vibrant and healthy in my 40's, 50's and beyond.<br />
<br />
And lastly, <strong>it feels great to be 20 pounds lighter!</strong> I want to thank all of my friends, family members and colleagues who have been such a great support system for me. Check out my progress in pictures:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkEaLGB5p5rmXoEI3aPJj8byDtzgKLHnCWtpmDNwKNnju0QBJYEF7suFxT0GtEx_d5fa2McoJSKqBZQVB_HYBFBCwbg30OmE4pe5APRgdcjxid7Lm14OgWqIBg-9ZL9ycP_25bQN5GVI/s1600/pre-diet-photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkEaLGB5p5rmXoEI3aPJj8byDtzgKLHnCWtpmDNwKNnju0QBJYEF7suFxT0GtEx_d5fa2McoJSKqBZQVB_HYBFBCwbg30OmE4pe5APRgdcjxid7Lm14OgWqIBg-9ZL9ycP_25bQN5GVI/s320/pre-diet-photo.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Me pre-diet at a Project Linus Event (2/20/10)</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_hqrn_lp2a4F0CdAt2Q9vQsr_FRi-53lLmakS8K5AizbAygHAVAvmXQrL3Tao_sjLMfL6Tlt1WpDFjvGL5ZSZl-RtqK9E4r88D0Y2kuNkvHkSpOINoodTK8rJptglMjWkdrcx-ve1_I/s1600/40+by+40+pic+03+25+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_hqrn_lp2a4F0CdAt2Q9vQsr_FRi-53lLmakS8K5AizbAygHAVAvmXQrL3Tao_sjLMfL6Tlt1WpDFjvGL5ZSZl-RtqK9E4r88D0Y2kuNkvHkSpOINoodTK8rJptglMjWkdrcx-ve1_I/s320/40+by+40+pic+03+25+10.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">March 25, 2010</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihMY5rloda500gGsULXsTXsKoI8sEmyrQxf62hx63b2CtNOaP1JG18JTY6aOvDXTIuMgoM0WNSQYKAsHCwrLSSb4K8CcWFzERdLVuin0cGuBNiGlIy79DXRerlYShxvDU0_-8zOii-tcE/s1600/4+15+10+Jen%27s+40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihMY5rloda500gGsULXsTXsKoI8sEmyrQxf62hx63b2CtNOaP1JG18JTY6aOvDXTIuMgoM0WNSQYKAsHCwrLSSb4K8CcWFzERdLVuin0cGuBNiGlIy79DXRerlYShxvDU0_-8zOii-tcE/s320/4+15+10+Jen%27s+40+by+40+pic.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">April 15, 2010</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbPgiRYJWakjRb5CBfdzZKCkMPMBLtUFSlhVB6ICj4xuhPm7AOoCiVbe_VjrvvpYwqCa9i3F7_oN0vARFwa2qCZiWVPP_Dz-dT80IgCkef9SouZMt4jC-lvYwizWBIUlkSCZrtf5rNs8/s1600/40+by+40+pic+05+20+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbPgiRYJWakjRb5CBfdzZKCkMPMBLtUFSlhVB6ICj4xuhPm7AOoCiVbe_VjrvvpYwqCa9i3F7_oN0vARFwa2qCZiWVPP_Dz-dT80IgCkef9SouZMt4jC-lvYwizWBIUlkSCZrtf5rNs8/s320/40+by+40+pic+05+20+10.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">And today (after a workout)!</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-48645311265080671552010-05-13T23:18:00.000-07:002010-05-13T23:29:12.758-07:00Picture PerfectThis week's weight loss was not as dramatic as last week's, but I did lose a respectable .5 pounds, bringing my total weight loss to 17 pounds, with 23 more to go by my 40th birthday on August 15th.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I mentioned in last week's post, Mother's Day was also our son's 10th birthday. It was a really nice day from beginning to end, starting with me getting to sleep in until around 10 a.m., followed by Will opening his birthday gifts and me opening my Mother's Day Gifts. Piper gave me a beautiful framed painting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEf-SJpvf0g46pkMUh2ASF3-z9M3Zi_QF3mypJZL8ii4FUR-GUZYhlBfJ_WKQs-KsNSWNAb7QusW1wvtI6g2F5bg1-G-6K0Rcx0GlLBINkqtrEo8hyphenhyphenjhrB8tAmarAagU69W6Zr4HhAkc/s1600/Piper's+picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEf-SJpvf0g46pkMUh2ASF3-z9M3Zi_QF3mypJZL8ii4FUR-GUZYhlBfJ_WKQs-KsNSWNAb7QusW1wvtI6g2F5bg1-G-6K0Rcx0GlLBINkqtrEo8hyphenhyphenjhrB8tAmarAagU69W6Zr4HhAkc/s320/Piper's+picture.jpg" wt="true" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Will wrote me a poem, that I just have to share:</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>Roses are red</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Violets are blue</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>They are pretty...</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>But not as pretty as you.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Sunflowers are yellow</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Shamrocks are green</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>They are easy to find...</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>But not as easy as you.</em></div><br />
I had to restrain myself from laughing too hard at the ending's double entendre, but how darned sweet is that?<br />
<br />
One of the most unexpected surprises of the day for me was actually being happy with the pictures that my husband took of me with the kids that day. Honestly, I can't even think of the last time I took a picture with my kids that I liked. Granted, I'm still 23 pounds away from my goal, but I've taken enough weight off already to see a real visible difference.<br />
<br />
I don't have any photos out in the house right now featuring me, well except for our wedding pictures on the wall and the framed picture of me in the sixth grade in my Dodgers softball uniform and my Farrah Fawcett hair with my ball cap strategically placed so as to not disrupt my hair's perfect feathering (a gift my husband gave to me one Christmas because he thinks the picture is hilarious). <br />
<br />
So to literally <em>like</em> the pictures from that day was really refreshing for me. I mean <em>really</em> refreshing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghidAvBmTihhSvMkjk7SZZS2f2_snB3-77DMDCFFDGPX8izqYXpZ-QBhyphenhyphenkHRhzgltBp0ijB40njKj0KdamMZYRfotIeE10dbX2AOPcaPBgLKXh13m83n3Ef4uvMidM2XQQy-_rdCKYFzY/s1600/Will+and+Jen+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghidAvBmTihhSvMkjk7SZZS2f2_snB3-77DMDCFFDGPX8izqYXpZ-QBhyphenhyphenkHRhzgltBp0ijB40njKj0KdamMZYRfotIeE10dbX2AOPcaPBgLKXh13m83n3Ef4uvMidM2XQQy-_rdCKYFzY/s320/Will+and+Jen+.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Will and me on Mother's Day/his birthday</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We decided to take the kids bowling, something Will thought would be fun for his big day, and something we have never done as a family since Piper was born more than three years ago. We had a blast, even though in the first of the two rounds we played, I came in last place. Yes, even my 3-year-old daughter beat me! And to my friends and family who have known me the longest, yes, I did attribute my defeat to my crooked right arm. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V3mwM4LXT4EzmF96il77f7snifF0XEVfG9v1x4CuktZjX-yl5YL-V1btspwi6Mzq1cd3p2wjxNJ1lsCbalOUjOEjUNvmqlmaGwmn2QTa1lbm096eIxNvvTWjpAR4sdPj-Ih4SvM5wI8/s1600/IMG_8032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V3mwM4LXT4EzmF96il77f7snifF0XEVfG9v1x4CuktZjX-yl5YL-V1btspwi6Mzq1cd3p2wjxNJ1lsCbalOUjOEjUNvmqlmaGwmn2QTa1lbm096eIxNvvTWjpAR4sdPj-Ih4SvM5wI8/s320/IMG_8032.JPG" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">17 pounds ago, I would have never shown this butt shot</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>(For those of you who don't know, my crooked right arm is the result of a swingset mishap in the '70s that resulted in a dislocation and four breaks in the growth area near my elbow that very well could have resulted in me having the arm the size of a 7-year-old for the rest of my life. Fortunately it didn't, but it did mess up my form at horse camp as a kid, as I was the only one who couldn't straighten both arms for the acrobatic horse performances. If my childhood friend and horse camp partner-in-crime Barbara is reading this, she's laughing right now and I actually think I can hear her all the way down in San Diego. She loved hearing me have to explain every year to the horse camp instructors why I can't straighten my right arm.)<br />
<br />
But, never fear, by the second round of bowling, I redeemed myself.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfx5ulfEaT2LiTPfOtAC-UQdKV2-Bdi2l_infqo2pDFRl2fa58iNdK_1D8Y8UWKi_06i-YIBK5Lw60_fd1yk4xQkxjNswLf0nWq8mbhZp699Ki02YHtUKs3Ry6TCOlYrSvFxk-QiLT2CE/s1600/IMG_8040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfx5ulfEaT2LiTPfOtAC-UQdKV2-Bdi2l_infqo2pDFRl2fa58iNdK_1D8Y8UWKi_06i-YIBK5Lw60_fd1yk4xQkxjNswLf0nWq8mbhZp699Ki02YHtUKs3Ry6TCOlYrSvFxk-QiLT2CE/s320/IMG_8040.JPG" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Note the crooked right arm.</span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>And while my husband thinks this photo of me is hilarious, I'd say judging by this scoreboard, I definitely got the last laugh (just to reinforce the point, J stands for Jennifer and C stands for Christian).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOa3uhlHLUK9YBJdxwWsjZ1fEEp7WOikGYJKRfUpqzOLsK5dKo__YVgztdc5gHeaIRTkYXupqJPcqkoGipUWz68ycwZ9MJpflQ44ZyhxA0gWynbgCfRYtM6w8D6Cx1qF_j7u9bdIGczRA/s1600/IMG_8054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOa3uhlHLUK9YBJdxwWsjZ1fEEp7WOikGYJKRfUpqzOLsK5dKo__YVgztdc5gHeaIRTkYXupqJPcqkoGipUWz68ycwZ9MJpflQ44ZyhxA0gWynbgCfRYtM6w8D6Cx1qF_j7u9bdIGczRA/s320/IMG_8054.JPG" wt="true" /></a></div><br />
The day ended with a wonderful dinner at Benihana, something I worked out extra for all week and saved my 35 weekly Weight Watchers bonus points for so I could enjoy it without guilt. Benihana is a favorite birthday venue for the Whittys because, after all, nothing beats the "birthday drum" and an onion volcano to celebrate a big day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovcDJ9nG8IaoHCYjZQ1nvJUdkq251kp86bj_24jF1YxIMbd5pNJV2JuX-WD1pj3C7r2-8UhdwBeckYtnZ9Ya2mC0cCAehD5pzE_nIl2OhjYc7LVf-OC5sXJfxv02qknF9UODJMiDovog/s1600/IMG_8056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovcDJ9nG8IaoHCYjZQ1nvJUdkq251kp86bj_24jF1YxIMbd5pNJV2JuX-WD1pj3C7r2-8UhdwBeckYtnZ9Ya2mC0cCAehD5pzE_nIl2OhjYc7LVf-OC5sXJfxv02qknF9UODJMiDovog/s320/IMG_8056.JPG" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Note the enthusiasm of the guy with the birthday drum.</span></em></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2UqSjwXBeFyM2uhMJ7LkWWRftnKp5eoxpoyQgckk7RlhNFYuDMtZbSG8dv_tP0LtBD1dEBNgBB_NBH-6dITnNzsbJ6YMh12mm6SsD-fG2CmbzZwCi4d9sXdz5QLh2iQyn3Awf03_DF4E/s1600/Will+at+Benihana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2UqSjwXBeFyM2uhMJ7LkWWRftnKp5eoxpoyQgckk7RlhNFYuDMtZbSG8dv_tP0LtBD1dEBNgBB_NBH-6dITnNzsbJ6YMh12mm6SsD-fG2CmbzZwCi4d9sXdz5QLh2iQyn3Awf03_DF4E/s320/Will+at+Benihana.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Happy Birthday Will!</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here's hoping I drum up some great weight loss results this coming week!</span> </span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-88085315554704028142010-05-06T23:17:00.000-07:002010-05-06T23:22:30.388-07:00Losing Weight is a Real MotherI don't ever want to revisit the 70's. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED the 1970's, the period up until I turned 10 when life revolved around chasing after the ice cream truck, collecting stickers and playing baseball with the boys down the street. <br />
<br />
But the 70's -- as in the period from 170 pounds to 179 pounds -- I plan to never <em>ever</em> visit again. As you know from last week's blog, I had a frustrating few weeks, seemingly unable to get below 170 pounds. My body was so used to consuming a six pack of diet soda a day and sitting on the couch every night crocheting blankets for my etsy shop (<a href="http://www.luluandcharlie.etsy.com/">http://www.luluandcharlie.etsy.com/</a>), I think it kind of panicked when I replaced diet soda with water and began working out four days a week.<br />
<br />
This week, the metabolism gods were definitely with me...I lost 4.5 pounds, bringing my total weight loss to 16.5 pounds! Here's this week's pic:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqUGcynkbxZA_h08yjFAT8GWv5r0tZ0inlRIt4WpLgr6umOoJQyWmALJTTBbbtSIP9eXh25zCPxTSCD7WLTCY8DHyILCKgqA2o30uVjNCGU5GaTd4edJMXiOSEBz6_oqFOB5Cg4OMkfI/s1600/IMG_7915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqUGcynkbxZA_h08yjFAT8GWv5r0tZ0inlRIt4WpLgr6umOoJQyWmALJTTBbbtSIP9eXh25zCPxTSCD7WLTCY8DHyILCKgqA2o30uVjNCGU5GaTd4edJMXiOSEBz6_oqFOB5Cg4OMkfI/s320/IMG_7915.JPG" tt="true" /></a></div><br />
So, while I've had a great week of weight loss, another loss has been weighing on my mind in recent days. This Sunday will be the first Mother's Day without my own mom, who died nearly four months ago after a decade-long battle with dementia. She was such a classy and talented woman. She was a published writer, an impeccable knitter and needlepointer, a devoted Kindergarten teacher, a wonderful listener, and supportive voice that always encouraged me to follow my dreams. She was the one who suggested that I "give a nice boy a try" during a phone conversation we had when I was in college and was telling her I thought this new boy I just started dating was "too nice." That boy is now my husband of nearly 14 years. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCeFbK5f5tg_bLbXPLrrDYWsMvkAvPkmAMsKurAivNbCkaFZzMl6EWNrKvvU2ySxoMfUWZdieQ2GolYWoAG1Dg1TkTi4osDh_XuLx2o1OZdKY1FzwMHrSJrq9EEAeEe4TU1WXgAv23LM/s1600/Mom54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCeFbK5f5tg_bLbXPLrrDYWsMvkAvPkmAMsKurAivNbCkaFZzMl6EWNrKvvU2ySxoMfUWZdieQ2GolYWoAG1Dg1TkTi4osDh_XuLx2o1OZdKY1FzwMHrSJrq9EEAeEe4TU1WXgAv23LM/s320/Mom54.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">She's not heavy, she's my daughter: Mom and me in the 70's.</span></em></div><br />
This Sunday is also my son's 10th birthday, so Mother's Day will definitely be a bittersweet day for me. But it will be mostly sweet as we will be celebrating my son hitting the double-digits, plus I just ordered the most delectable chocolate cake smothered in a rich chocolate ganache for his big day. Will is a sucker for chocolate cake; the richer the better. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqSM9Z2xltYU_PjfyXXWeTlfUH9UZBjJVuCBBnW5OD4qZ8P3p6Wrk_eCsqmcNY1n0DwXehE0eqpCF3mplNeaGEw55B4mxYTLqjDhXI_ZkU_cx7wg-AKWpKeZr7smdAImN9R3mrDon9xc/s1600/IMG_7912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqSM9Z2xltYU_PjfyXXWeTlfUH9UZBjJVuCBBnW5OD4qZ8P3p6Wrk_eCsqmcNY1n0DwXehE0eqpCF3mplNeaGEw55B4mxYTLqjDhXI_ZkU_cx7wg-AKWpKeZr7smdAImN9R3mrDon9xc/s320/IMG_7912.JPG" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Will up to bat during his last baseball game of his single-digit years</span></em></div><br />
In anticipation of Mother's Day and my son's 10th birthday, I decided to create a list of the Top 10 things I love about being a mom. In Dave Letterman style, I'll start with number 10.<br />
<br />
10. I love how a knuckle punch and a pep talk from me can turn my son Will's stike outs into a powerful hit into the outfield.<br />
<br />
9. I love that when our 3-year-old daughter Piper comes into our room at 4 a.m. to sleep with us, she always comes to <em>my</em> side of the bed.<br />
<br />
8. I love the "teachable moments" that make me feel like Mike Brady from the Brady Bunch, without the bad perm.<br />
<br />
7. I love that Piper loves Hello Kitty, just like I did as a little girl.<br />
<br />
6. I love that for Will's birthday celebration he only wanted to invite two friends, Lucas and Anders, to go to Scandia and have a sleepover because, as he says, <em>"If I invited more, I wouldn't be able to spend </em><em>as much time </em><em>talking to Lucas and Anders. Plus some of the other kids at school that I play with </em><em>say bad </em><em>words."</em> How's that for making you feel like you're doing something right?<br />
<br />
5. I love how soft my daughter's hair feels when she cuddles up to me and tucks her head under my chin.<br />
<br />
4. I love when Piper sits on Will's lap with her favorite blankie and sucks her thumb.<br />
<br />
3. I love how when my kids argue that it reminds me of when mom used to yell to my brother and me, <em>"Someday I hope you have children just like you!"</em> And that I understand now how she felt.<br />
<br />
2. I love that I have never uttered the words, <em>"Someday I hope you have children just like you!"</em> to my own children when they bicker.<br />
<br />
1. I love to hear "Mommeeeeeeee" when I come in the front door.<br />
<br />
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there! Yes, losing weight is a real mother, but I'm determined to lose the remaining 23.5 pounds I have left on my journey to loose 40 pounds by my 40th birthday on August 15th.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-13400141062536744412010-04-29T22:07:00.000-07:002010-04-29T22:10:09.916-07:00Throw Me a Bone, Will Ya?!As I write this, my children are enjoying Easter candy. My 9-year-old, Will, chose the large Hershey's Kiss, while my daughter Piper is enjoying spring colored M&M's. I excused myself to get a head start on my blog so I don't have to sit at the dinner table watching them lick the melted chocolate off their fingers.<br />
<br />
I'm going to be honest with you. I'm in a bit of a funk. I gained a pound this week, after another week of really disciplined eating. I drank water instead of Diet Soda. I worked out four days a week at the gym -- for the second week in a row. My only significant cheat day (for which I saved my weekly bonus points) was on Saturday, at our friend Patty's 60th birthday party. Patty and her family are known for throwing parties with amazing food. I knew I was in trouble going into it. And the Mariachi Band sealed the deal. How can you listen to a Mariachi Band and <em>not</em> eat nachos and tamales, and drink Sangria?<br />
<br />
But the rest of the week I was great! I drank my water. I stayed within my daily Weight Watchers points. I even special ordered my fish without the sauce at a work function on Friday night. <br />
<br />
I worked out at the gym on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday <em>and</em> Thursday of this week, despite my now TWO aching knees. I am even one of the very few women at the gym who braves the downstairs weight room, which is typically where you'll find the beefy, tank-top-wearing, tattooed men working out to blaring rock music just before they go across the hall to bronze themselves in the tanning beds. And if you're really lucky, like I was tonight, you'll get to endure one of these beefcakes grunting with each bench press. Even Pink on my iPod couldn't drown out the sound. <br />
<br />
Nonetheless, four times each week following my 35-minute workout on the elliptical trainer, you'll find me in the dudes' weight room leg pressing 110 pounds. No grunting.<br />
<br />
And after all that, I <em>gained</em> a pound this week. GAINED a pound! And please don't tell me that muscle weighs more than fat. I know that it does. But it still doesn't help when you're staring down to read 1-7-0 on your scale each morning. <br />
<br />
With the up a pound, down a pound weight loss over the last couple of weeks, I'm back at a total 12 pound weight loss, on my way to losing 40 pounds by my 40th birthday. Here's this week's pic. Not the most flattering given that it was post workout.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxHzM5AepE7SjtFF9dJM53btb0efxOgHWm_jFpeiIh9sRpFEav_Xdz792xSqqcIkIGQOZ9WcPFcGP8LqcMkBGWYZ6-QlNSlWLsRnO4BvVyGfS5B2JoPgG-ZVK3Ff3xLAcVObEDQz92WI/s1600/40+by+40+pic+-+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxHzM5AepE7SjtFF9dJM53btb0efxOgHWm_jFpeiIh9sRpFEav_Xdz792xSqqcIkIGQOZ9WcPFcGP8LqcMkBGWYZ6-QlNSlWLsRnO4BvVyGfS5B2JoPgG-ZVK3Ff3xLAcVObEDQz92WI/s320/40+by+40+pic+-+2.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><br />
Oh metabolism gods, I'm begging you to <em>please</em> throw me a bone this week!Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-91959976951459693992010-04-22T22:24:00.000-07:002010-04-22T22:24:28.375-07:00Jennifat No MoreSince my last blog post a week ago, I have had one Diet Pepsi. <em>One</em>. For those of you who know me best , you will realize the significance of this.<br />
<br />
Typically on any given day I would easily consume four to five diet sodas. <em>Easily</em>. In fact, I would always start my day with one. Fresh out of the shower, I'd get my bathrobe on, fire up the Sonicare electric toothbrush, and go to the refrigerator during the two minutes the toothbrush was going -- which is just enough time to get a Diet Pepsi or Diet Coke, whichever was on sale that week. And on the days I would go to Taco Bell or Subway for lunch, I'd purchase the largest Fountain Cup they had -- usually 48 ounces, I think -- and fill it to the brim with Diet Soda. And I'd usually down one for dinner too.<br />
<br />
So hopefully, you all now see the significance of me only having ONE Diet Pepsi this week. And the only reason I had it was because we had turkey burgers for dinners one night and I simply can't imagine eating that with anything else.<br />
<br />
I decided this week to drink water instead of diet soda, just to see if it made me feel any differently, healthier maybe. I was inspired by a fellow blogger who is blogging about her own weight loss. She eliminated diet soda from her diet and noted that she felt better and even slept better, which she could tell in part because of the many dreams she had been having.<br />
<br />
So I decided to give it a shot, hoping that in addition to possibly feeling better and less sluggish, that perhaps replacing diet soda with water would help me lose more weight this week. (I'll let you know later in this post if it did). Here's what I did notice: My skin is much more hydrated. In the past, I'd wake up in the morning with my face feeling really dry and tight. I'd slather on some face cream and yet a couple of minutes later, I'd feel like I needed more. This week, that didn't happen. I still put on face cream, but the water definitely made a difference with my skin. <br />
<br />
I also noticed, like my blogger peer, that I did have more dreams. Strange ones. I dreamt one night that I got a second job at the Gap on Powell Street in San Francisco. And I LOVED it! I also dreamt that my family and I moved into my parents house (my mom was still alive in this dream), and the kids and my husband and I all shared a room. Of course, I'm not sure if I should attribute these dreams as having anything to do with eliminating diet soda and, thus, getting a better night's sleep. I think they have more to do with my husband being one of the 22,000 California teachers who were handed pink slips. <br />
<br />
I also went to the gym, as promised in last week's blog post, four times this week. That's more times than I've gone since I started my weight loss challenge. I've done, on average, 30 minutes each time on the elliptical machine, followed by 60 leg presses on the machine at the gym, something my physical therapist wanted me to do to help strenghthen my knee. Tonight I leg pressed 100 pounds. The other times I only did 90 pounds, but the guy before me (easily in his 60's) leg pressed 500 pounds, so I felt I needed to kick it up a notch. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyxkDkJ8oKV_ZggGvlPj02rS-CGGNTyWv44TEcibveJb-6CwHH_6hAb6FoyhZHbSc-2oj5MU_yYVJWzii8qUpEcHnCzbFXX15ekRfAZ1eTFA5J2Zla51J3DXTzUaXL2JaHRWZpIsww7nI/s1600/2010_04_22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyxkDkJ8oKV_ZggGvlPj02rS-CGGNTyWv44TEcibveJb-6CwHH_6hAb6FoyhZHbSc-2oj5MU_yYVJWzii8qUpEcHnCzbFXX15ekRfAZ1eTFA5J2Zla51J3DXTzUaXL2JaHRWZpIsww7nI/s320/2010_04_22.jpg" tt="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tonight at the gym. Special thanks to my gym buddy Andrea for delaying our workout so I could download some new music on my iPhone. Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas are definitely better to work out to than all those sappy ballads that had taken up about 90 percent of my former playlist.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I feel GREAT! I really do. My legs feel stronger, and my knee isn't hurting as much. In fact, it's almost not hurting at all. My physical therapist, Jeannie, is thrilled with my progress. In fact, she's eliminated my twice weekly visits (which have been costing me a $15 co-payment and $4 bridge fair per visit) for two weeks, to focus on my workouts at the gym instead. She's going to check back with me in a couple of weeks and we'll go from there to see if she discharges me.</div><br />
Realizing that exercise could help alleviate my knee pain was an eye opener for me. My lifestyle had become so sedentary, with no exercise incorporated whatsoever. I don't know if not exercising could have <em>caused</em> my knee pain, but I do know that exercising now is helping to <em>prevent</em> it. For me, that's enough to make a real lifestyle change. I definitely don't want to be a weak, flabby, forty-year-old. I want to be strong, vibrant, healthy and hydrated.<br />
<br />
On that note, I have to share a text message I received this week from my brother Geoff. The one who used to do karate kicks that came just about an inch from hitting my face when we were younger. The one who gave me arm noogies that always left a bruise. And the one with whom I argued non-stop, driving our parents crazy to the point where decisions like who would get to sit in the front seat of the car when we were driving with mom were decided by me having Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and my brother having Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Honestly, I don't know what happened on that seventh day. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZSS2kK0anzuh74srJbyxzukgiDZVUeO4Jbp6DHbKsYwTyKGV0byB5bi2noZAjQcOetFmkLbSU6UCNSvryqQGLvlvosZuPlskfLZSIFdnI8YITCQhnmJ5MqIGor3M2Habm2o33smZxQg/s1600/mom126+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZSS2kK0anzuh74srJbyxzukgiDZVUeO4Jbp6DHbKsYwTyKGV0byB5bi2noZAjQcOetFmkLbSU6UCNSvryqQGLvlvosZuPlskfLZSIFdnI8YITCQhnmJ5MqIGor3M2Habm2o33smZxQg/s320/mom126+(2).jpg" tt="true" width="252" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">This picture, taken in the 1970's, of my big brother Geoff, me in the eye patch I had to wear for a time in third grade because of my"lazy eye," and my mom in her curly perm and bell bottom jeans, makes me laugh every time I see it.</span></em></div><br />
"Please don't take offense to this," he texted. "But since you've lost weight, I just thought of a nickname for the old you -- Jennifat. Now you are back to Jennifer...congrats! Don't be Jennifat again." <br />
<br />
And then he typed in that winking smiley face. Only a big brother could get away with that.<br />
<br />
I'm happy to report that little sis lost weight this week! I lost the pound I gained last week, plus another half pound. Bringing my total weight loss to 13 pounds!Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-53855760455997030502010-04-15T23:28:00.000-07:002010-04-15T23:29:30.873-07:00My Knee is Killing Me"My knee is killing me!" I didn't realize how often I had been saying that phrase until one night our 3-year-old daughter Piper opened the family room door while my husband and I were watching TV to exclaim, "My knee is killing me!" a new excuse she had created to get out of bed and avoid going to sleep.<br />
<br />
It was then that I realized I needed to figure out why the heck my right knee was, indeed, killing me. And for the last 6+ months, that's exactly what I've been doing. My treatment started with a Cortizone shot by my primary care provider for what was believed to be bursitis. That worked for about three months, but then the pain came back stronger than ever, accompanied by a clicking in my knee.<br />
<br />
I ignored it for a while, wondering if perhaps my weight was having an effect on my knee. After all, as my doctor explained, every 10 pounds of weight loss takes 40 pounds of weight off your joints. So if at the beginning of my weight loss journey I was 40 pounds overweight, this is an additional 160 pounds on my joints! Perhaps that's the culprit.<br />
<br />
But even so, the pain became so persistent that I decided to go to an orthopedic doctor, Dr. Oberlander, who I was told has a particular talent for knees. Being that Dr. Oberlander is the orthopedic specialist for the Oakland Raiders, I figured my knee would be in very capable hands.<br />
<br />
I visited Dr. Oberlander for the first time about six weeks ago. Not having worked out in several months, I felt a little bit silly visiting his office with my non-sports-related injury, and walking down the hallway leading to the exam room filled with professional athlete-signed jerseys. He took an X-ray of my knee, which turned out negative. The next step, he recommended, was to get an MRI to see if there was a meniscus tear.<br />
<br />
Ah, if only it were so simple. Truth be told, I think that losing 40 pounds by my 40th birthday will be easier than getting my insurance company to approve an MRI. I should write another blog with the theme of trying to get an MRI by my 40th birthday! Blue Shield denied the request because I had 1) not taken a non-steroid anti-inflamatory for four weeks and 2) not gone to physical therapy for four weeks.<br />
<br />
So a week ago, I purchased a bottle of Motrin and visited the physical therapist, Jeannie, for my first bi-weekly visit that will continue until early May. Her observation, besides the fact that I have flat feet: my knee is swollen and warm to the touch (a sign of a persistent minor injury), I have GREAT ligaments (apparently that was in my chart!), and I need to get some more practical shoes (I could have told her that). Up until now, I've always lived by the motto that it's better to look good than feel good. But now that I am approaching 40 and my knee is killing me, I need to take a trip to the Walking Store for some sensible shoes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ik8TRBf01LZfwcmiiOUBGk3IoO3aYU_zwA3MxBtsnYSXRtYDZi0IyPjsVXTRD8EfSPXEAwBikvsnLlSsqPnk44SW-Wj2xkQgGIOWBbG-QXZiwoUOtAvAiCG_bSpxbsp4r3Gnffv9mso/s1600/IMG_7601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ik8TRBf01LZfwcmiiOUBGk3IoO3aYU_zwA3MxBtsnYSXRtYDZi0IyPjsVXTRD8EfSPXEAwBikvsnLlSsqPnk44SW-Wj2xkQgGIOWBbG-QXZiwoUOtAvAiCG_bSpxbsp4r3Gnffv9mso/s320/IMG_7601.JPG" width="320" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">My knees marked up with pen after my first physical therapy appointment. The coolest part? When I showed the kids my written on knees, my 9-year-old son said, "Wow, Mommy! Your legs are skinnier!"</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>During our last visit, Jeannie asked how soon after working out at the gym (which she is aware I do not do very much of) my knee started to ache. I honestly couldn't answer that question because I hadn't worked out in a couple of weeks. So yesterday evening, at her direction, I went to the gym and worked out on the elliptical machine for 30 minutes. One hour and 45 minutes later, my knee started to ache, which I thought wasn't too bad. But then, I did my assigned knee exercises before I went to bed and a sharp pain shot up the inside of my knee. This time, my knee was <em>really</em> killing me.<br />
<br />
I was so excited to tell Jeannie about this during my 3:30 p.m. physical therapy appointment. I knew for sure she would tell me to take a break from working out at the gym because I was overdoing it on my knee. Predicting this outcome, I had it all planned out that, instead of going to the gym, I would instead get a pedicure. Ah, the best laid plans.<br />
<br />
To my surprise, she actually told me to rotate going to the gym and doing my exercises, but just don't do both on the same day. She suggested, "Today, go ahead and go to the gym, and then tomorrow do your exercises." When I told her I was fully expecting (and hoping) she would order me not to work out today she laughted and said, "I don't think in my entire career I've ever told anyone <em>not</em> to work out."<br />
<br />
Right after my appointment, I went to the gym. I did 20 minutes on the recumbant bike, and 10 minutes on the elliptical machine.<br />
<br />
And <em>THEN</em>, I got my pedicure!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRswI49sBNZQYik-Iezm6JjI4U0hY6Mc5me3NaklzN2nbFZmANYnjIo1uB6ik1-IvtzrwjoZOSFK2L3NOCh0-CPphbaVTx2qqareF200dOYX4HosdNlL8jYL-m4kIdGs0OE1ozRmSRVhE/s1600/toes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRswI49sBNZQYik-Iezm6JjI4U0hY6Mc5me3NaklzN2nbFZmANYnjIo1uB6ik1-IvtzrwjoZOSFK2L3NOCh0-CPphbaVTx2qqareF200dOYX4HosdNlL8jYL-m4kIdGs0OE1ozRmSRVhE/s320/toes.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><br />
Let's hope stepping up my exercise program will help me battle the bulge this week, especially since I gained a pound over the last week, bringing my total weight loss to 11 1/2 pounds towards my goal of losing 40 pounds by my 40th birthday on August 15th. Honestly, I'm not really sure why I gained a pound this week because I've been pretty disciplined with my eating. My goal for the upcoming week is to drink a lot more water and go to the gym at least four times. Let's hope this makes a difference. In the meantime, don't my toes look great?<br />
<br />
Here's this week's pic of me, along with the "before" pic for comparison. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydw6iL9QGIQE_nkSaLP-UTQAdIf5xvPU-MR0NZwXoWQXOhX-EypSmhZy5NwaV0T9QpqalwHtZlkSEmH3sf63xILCYoX-hnAdhvTDkvjmKLthAH_TPeWKkb2nVSD4UwUxt6XyyfBtIZeM/s1600/jen+before+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydw6iL9QGIQE_nkSaLP-UTQAdIf5xvPU-MR0NZwXoWQXOhX-EypSmhZy5NwaV0T9QpqalwHtZlkSEmH3sf63xILCYoX-hnAdhvTDkvjmKLthAH_TPeWKkb2nVSD4UwUxt6XyyfBtIZeM/s320/jen+before+pic.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Before (at a Project Linus event on Feb. 20th). I absolutely detest this picture of me!</span></em></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqd5CTLEpe9pUhHDaJs3tiYW7JfmrhnsmoHuWqlmTs3CRSzOkSFceffR6AiLuqiyPWq-S5Veni3y6IXW8Ljng26MqgZB2ZGZ9YTyhRkypDMSPqmlTomIsXHuH8NnrrAhYlplTarqNIbOg/s1600/4+15+10+Jen%27s+40+by+40+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqd5CTLEpe9pUhHDaJs3tiYW7JfmrhnsmoHuWqlmTs3CRSzOkSFceffR6AiLuqiyPWq-S5Veni3y6IXW8Ljng26MqgZB2ZGZ9YTyhRkypDMSPqmlTomIsXHuH8NnrrAhYlplTarqNIbOg/s320/4+15+10+Jen%27s+40+by+40+pic.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">And today, 11.5 pounds lighter (in my practical shoes).</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-20079086566756371282010-04-08T22:00:00.000-07:002010-04-08T22:00:38.363-07:00My Very Own Easter Egg HuntIf you've done Weight Watchers before, you'll know that you are allowed a certain amount of points each day. Currently, I get 22, which translates to about 1,100 calories each day. In addition to that, you have 35 "bonus points" that you can use each week. You can split your bonus points up to add five more points to each day's allowance, or you can use all of your 35 bonus points for one big event, like a wedding, a fondue feast, or a trip to the movies so you can have a mega box of Hot Tamales and a medium buttered popcorn. <br />
<br />
I prefer the latter approach. There's something about having one day a week when I can just pig out as much as I want that helps get me through the week. However, I'll be honest that this approach usually leads to, how should I say it, "stomach issues" since your body is so used to a low fat diet and kind of freaks out at the fat and calorie overload. Sorry, TMI, but it's true.<br />
<br />
So, needless to say I was probably looking forward to Easter Brunch at Mira Vista County Club far more than my own children Will and Piper were. All week, they eagerly awaited the great egg hunt the club holds every year for the kids. Despite the fact that it started pouring just about five minutes prior to the noon start time, the kids made the best of the hunt. And Piper, for the second time in her three-year career of egg hunting (closely chaperoned and coached by mommy), once again, found the "golden egg" which earned her one of the five candy-filled Easter baskets reserved for the victorious hunters.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUBEJnQ45fiZtgOATM1xHhoL6TwjQiptBL_ciebckAUJ-q7f5W8ah-y1nho3JeDd0SVC-lqoa414cYWq8kbgwtN_Q1UiVhdtluUQh9oDkBi93E3YDfnuM9id8kCaqxYBEQzBFK1cKjqI/s1600/will+and+connor+egg+hunt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUBEJnQ45fiZtgOATM1xHhoL6TwjQiptBL_ciebckAUJ-q7f5W8ah-y1nho3JeDd0SVC-lqoa414cYWq8kbgwtN_Q1UiVhdtluUQh9oDkBi93E3YDfnuM9id8kCaqxYBEQzBFK1cKjqI/s320/will+and+connor+egg+hunt.JPG" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Will (in the hood) and his cousin Connor search for Easter eggs in the rain at Mira Vista Country Club.</span></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28wz-inpLI1Z_5GDaQLEplDm-9umDRAM64UXcoHQZWjS7QcFkjeP50SYshyphenhyphenmzI0DAJL7lhcvcqIWFYMplWkgBTfl5aT0VoCSYS-k4uFPgBB749utkPhZB_AZpsRRFZ7-9n_5SvLgwPvA/s1600/piper+and+basket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28wz-inpLI1Z_5GDaQLEplDm-9umDRAM64UXcoHQZWjS7QcFkjeP50SYshyphenhyphenmzI0DAJL7lhcvcqIWFYMplWkgBTfl5aT0VoCSYS-k4uFPgBB749utkPhZB_AZpsRRFZ7-9n_5SvLgwPvA/s320/piper+and+basket.jpg" wt="true" /></span></em></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Piper shows off the Easter basket she won after finding the "golden egg." Check out those cute pink toes!</span></em></div><br />
The only eggs I anticipated on Easter were eggs benedict. I had a modest piece of two-point cheese for breakfast to tide me over until our 1:00 p.m. brunch seating. Meaning, I still had 20 points left in my regular day's allowance, and also had 35 points to splurge with. There's not much better than 55 points in the bank and an all-you-can eat brunch!<br />
<br />
It was like I was on my very own Easter Egg hunt, searching for treats hidden in roll top chafing dishes and iced appetizer displays.<br />
<br />
I had sushi, salami and cheese, and salad with ranch dressing for starters. This was followed by eggs benedict with crab and the yummiest butternut squash raviolis topped with alfredo sauce. I slid down jumbo shrimp with cocktail sauce, a few mimosas, roast beef with creamed horseradish sauce, and crabcakes with aioli sauce.<br />
<br />
And don't even get me started about dessert. There were chocolate covered marshmallows with nuts, chocolate dipped cheesecake balls on a stick, and of course my mother-in-law dressed the table with cute little chocolate eggs down the center, which I couldn't resist. There was even caramel corn for the kids, or the kids at heart, like me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgUG-g7PjYJRSsIPvfCUlW_aCF-yjA2voGznAy4JynJDVezmoe3liyoLABgs6vCMjVA6WVzG5iebBd3p3BYm7ajO9hyphenhyphensPQWknnwxz7vq2FFZaW549OAw0y2gLoDP7g0mYrnYITkAb8Fc/s1600/jen+and+christian+at+easter.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgUG-g7PjYJRSsIPvfCUlW_aCF-yjA2voGznAy4JynJDVezmoe3liyoLABgs6vCMjVA6WVzG5iebBd3p3BYm7ajO9hyphenhyphensPQWknnwxz7vq2FFZaW549OAw0y2gLoDP7g0mYrnYITkAb8Fc/s320/jen+and+christian+at+easter.bmp" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>This picture of my husband and me was taken just before our 1:00 p.m. brunch seating at the club.</em></span></div><br />
I literally rolled out of there feeling, quite frankly, a little disgusted with myself. But that feeling didn't last too long because I knew I'd be right back on track the following day. And I was.<br />
<br />
Better yet, I had a great week of weight loss. I lost another 2.5 pounds, bringing my total weight loss to 12.5 pounds...well on my way to losing 40 pounds by my 40th birthday on August 15th!Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-42821901658964770742010-04-02T01:03:00.000-07:002010-04-02T01:03:17.862-07:00Thank God for Matzos!I knew I was in trouble Monday morning when I arrived to work. I walked into the break room to put the lunch my husband lovingly packed to help me meet my weight loss goal when suddenly, I come face to face with my nemesis -- Yehuda Matzos.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlf5n6L-yHcltEOLH9nd9YJRlYsMvDsI2Klz2A1k36OFeAv64-aUdWrcI7kpvkJ7USGn2UsBG5Q3Bx4GMXS6DO1oVT-nw9S8te1vNXCgBF0f6cRuzj-agY0gawk35NR6o_dQJPyuyfwU/s1600/240px-Matzos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlf5n6L-yHcltEOLH9nd9YJRlYsMvDsI2Klz2A1k36OFeAv64-aUdWrcI7kpvkJ7USGn2UsBG5Q3Bx4GMXS6DO1oVT-nw9S8te1vNXCgBF0f6cRuzj-agY0gawk35NR6o_dQJPyuyfwU/s320/240px-Matzos.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br />
My Jewish colleague Lee brings Matzos into work once a year, during Passover. He places it on the table, along with a tub of whipped butter and salt (and pepper, but no need for that as far as I'm concerned). With the exception of all of the Christmas goodies found in our breakroom in December, the day Lee brings in Matza is by far my favorite. <br />
<br />
If you aren't familiar with it, Matza is the substitute for bread during the Jewish holiday of Passover, when eating chametz—bread and leavened products—is not allowed. Apparently, eating matza on the night of the seder is considered a positive mitzvah, i.e., a commandment. In the context of the Passover seder meal, certain restrictions additional to the chametz prohibitions are to be met for the matza to be considered "mitzva matza", that is, matza that meets the requirements of the positive commandment to eat matza at the seder.<br />
<br />
So really, it would have been a sin <em>NOT</em> to eat the Matzos. And since I've always been the obedient God-fearing type, I had some. With butter. And salt. It was good. It was great. I had another one. It was even better.<br />
<br />
I knew that before I got further into my Matza Meltdown, I'd better get online and track the points on Weight Watchers' online tracking system. And so I tracked: <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">X = {2TBSP butter (2 points) + 1 Matza bread (2 points)} x 2 servings</div><div style="text-align: center;">drumroll please....</div><div style="text-align: center;">8 POINTS!</div><br />
Yes, 8 points. More than one-third of my daily allowance of 22 points. And before you say (like my friend Patricia did), "Just use some of your weekly 35 bonus points," if you must know, I had already run out of them by Monday. A certain work-related black-tie event which was on Saturday at the Westin St. Francis on San Francisco's Union Square -- complete with boneless short ribs, mashed sweet potatoes, grilled ham and cheese triangles, brie and grapes on little toast circles, and an open bar -- took care of my bonus points for the week, thank you very much!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBeljuasqCgH9YeQjXUP9MSWjLr9jUcK2bNT8s8M6Aomxz5hMyZPHvgUw27eopmeamSuH6QhcV8QyhSayH10IaRRYSgJQDu8oBhD0BxWLpsVLqsgqzIqVvmnj5MpwbBSJvwokGFSAybs/s1600/jen+and+holly+at+gala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBeljuasqCgH9YeQjXUP9MSWjLr9jUcK2bNT8s8M6Aomxz5hMyZPHvgUw27eopmeamSuH6QhcV8QyhSayH10IaRRYSgJQDu8oBhD0BxWLpsVLqsgqzIqVvmnj5MpwbBSJvwokGFSAybs/s320/jen+and+holly+at+gala.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>My friend Holly (left) and I at the black tie event over the weekend.</em></span> <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The event was certainly a good use of my bonus points for the week!</span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>When you combine the matzos with my breakfast, a modest-two-point Yoplait Yogurt, and the lunch my husband packed (an 8-point Weight Watchers pizza), it's pretty easy to see that by 1 p.m. that day I was screwed! Somehow, I had to get through the rest of the day on a mere four points. Yet, I was supposed to go to a dinner that very evening with my fellow committee members who worked on my son's school fundraiser two weekends prior. We were going to debrief the event, make suggestions for next year, toast our great work, and celebrate our "job well done" over our meal at the Union Hotel. <br />
<br />
That was just trouble waiting to happen with only four points left, and I knew it. There is no way I could limit myself to one glass of wine and a bowl of 0-point celery sticks during a celebratory feast.<br />
<br />
So I skipped the dinner meeting. It wasn't too difficult because when that morning (before the Matzos) I told my son I might not make his baseball game because I had a dinner meeting, he looked at me with those sad eyes. It didn't matter to him that we were celebrating a job well done raising $28,000 for his school. It just meant I would miss his game.<br />
<br />
Before I go on, I must skip back a couple of weeks in my son's baseball career. He is at the age where they "try out" for baseball. The options for his age group (9/10) is Minor B or Minor A, with Minor A being the higher skill level. Will tried out and was disappointed when he learned he was selected for the Minor B Padres team. He had a great coach, and a few friends on the team, but he was disappointed. Nevertheless, he made the best of it and after the first few games of the season, he was clearly the team superstar, hitting triples and doubles on a regular basis.<br />
<br />
One afternoon, we got the call. A coach for the Minor A Cardinals had seen Will play and wanted to draft him to their team. Will was absolutely over the moon when he found out. You couldn't wipe the smile from his face for days. To make a good situation even better, he has a lot of friends on his new team. Even though we knew it would be a little bit of an adjustment for him to transition to a new team, we agreed to let him do it. <br />
<br />
We brought the video camera to his first few games. Every time he got up to bat, my husband taped it. His first time at bat, Will got hit in the leg. Second time at bat, he struck out. Third time, he struck out again. That was followed by a walk, and then a strike out. And another one. Yet another one. Even then, Will never got discouraged and literally had a smile throughout each game.<br />
<br />
Even so, it was clear to me he needed his groove back. He didn't seem to have the confidence he had when playing in the other league. And as a good -- albeit competitive -- mother, I gave him a pep talk. I told him that every time he goes to bat, he needs to believe that he is just as good as all the other players in the Minor A league, otherwise the coaches would not have hand-picked him. I suggested he try to visualize during the game the coaches pitching to him since he was able to hit off of them at practice. I told him that we all knew he was a great player, but that he had to believe it too, even if the kids pitch faster than they do in the other league.<br />
<br />
And this is where my Matzos-misstep turned to be a blessing. Rather than join my fellow committee members for dinner, there I sat with my husband and daughter Piper in the stands at the friggin' freezing Field #1 at Community Park. With four points left in my day, my tummy was growling and my body was shivering, but we all rooted as Will went up to bat for the first time during the game.<br />
<br />
He struck out.<br />
<br />
But you know it can't end there. I wouldn't devote this much blog space to talking about my dear son striking out. That would be cruel!<br />
<br />
Will got up to bat for the second and last time of the game. I overheard one coach telling him that he knows he can hit because he's seen him do it. The other coach yelled out, "Come on Will, hit a homerun!" And with that, Will walked up to the plate with his bright red batting helmet with the chin strap and his dark blue aluminum bat. And a smile on his face.<br />
<br />
The pitcher pitched a perfect strike and Will, with a single smooth stroke, <em>NAILED</em> it. Absolutely nailed it! It went all the way into left field, took one bounce and hit the fence. He ran. And ran. And ran. And as the third-base coach waved him home, the stands erupted in even louder cheering and even little sister Piper was jumping up and down. Our son got an in-the-park homerun. It was amazing. More amazing than Matzos. I'm so glad I was there to witness it.<br />
<br />
His teammates gave him a high-five as he headed back into the dugout. His coach awarded him with the game ball when the competition was over. Over the moon doesn't even begin to capture it. His team lost the game, but who the heck is counting?!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilk49liRR161GbVD6PaGboAQUgNjCBbkgDWkkXApsiTKGZO4ojzhDDSiX8jQfKeKT6VcueSCGdZs62YsJl7mhfZnzR2ruKyNH-zSKlsZMncYXeE3AN8Orh5iOfLDi061DNaTG3wOR5qiQ/s1600/Will+game+ball2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilk49liRR161GbVD6PaGboAQUgNjCBbkgDWkkXApsiTKGZO4ojzhDDSiX8jQfKeKT6VcueSCGdZs62YsJl7mhfZnzR2ruKyNH-zSKlsZMncYXeE3AN8Orh5iOfLDi061DNaTG3wOR5qiQ/s320/Will+game+ball2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><em>The game ball</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To celebrate, Will had nachos from the snack shack. I had a 2-point piece of cheese and a bowl of carrot sticks, with a TBSP of fat free ranch to dip it in. </div><br />
Ah, the sweet taste of victory.<br />
<br />
That wasn't the only triumph in the Whitty household this week. I'm pleased to report that despite the Matzos, I lost another 1.5 pounds, bringing my total weight loss to 10 pounds. 10 down, 30 to go!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><br />
</strong>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488191268252816280.post-4817208473785494202010-03-26T00:16:00.000-07:002010-03-26T00:22:14.565-07:00To Where You AreI got home from work this evening (well actually got home from having my nails done because I have a black tie event to go to this weekend), and after sitting down briefly to watch Lilo & Stitch The Series with my daughter, I decided to get dressed to go to the gym. Because, after all, I knew I had to write my blog post tonight and I have to make sure I look like I'm committed to working out like I said I would in last week's post.<br />
<br />
When I headed down the hall to leave, my daughter asked, "You're wearing your pajamas?" I explained that they weren't my pajamas and that I was going to the gym. She asked, "Why are you wearing your pajamas to the gym?"<br />
<br />
The truth is, my black workout capris with the white and light blue stripes down the sides have been worn more often while lazing on the couch and, ultimately, to bed than at the gym. In fact, they haven't entered the Benicia Health & Fitness doors in about eight months. Even a three-year-old knows that!<br />
<br />
And with that, I headed to the gym for the second time this week to work out on the elliptical machine. Tonight, though, I brought my iPhone in hopes the music would make the time fly by faster than it did when I went earlier in the week. During that workout session, I was forced to watch "Food Wars," which was playing on gym television. I've never watched that show before, but judging from the closed captioning, this episode was basically a whole bunch of potbellied men from Texas blind taste-testing barbecue kielbalsa and brisket from a brother's and sister's competing BBQ restaurants.<br />
<br />
Somehow, it seemed cruel to have to watch that while working out. But, then again, seeing all the overweight men in cowboy hats licking their calloused fingers after eating greasy sausage was somewhat motivating for me as I continued on my journey to shed my own potbelly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdvUHS0BbHWFrUWlsUef_uAMvdpWUUBmWujtl0EZQerUSLtG6xaL_caaM8Ycw1AR88xUtiYGIReXjfQjYIpdYM5sGojkWEZ74zP5634P2v0iq4NqFCqlh39sPYdzb2t6luikNniWuN-SI/s1600/Jen+and+Will+and+Benicia+Fitness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdvUHS0BbHWFrUWlsUef_uAMvdpWUUBmWujtl0EZQerUSLtG6xaL_caaM8Ycw1AR88xUtiYGIReXjfQjYIpdYM5sGojkWEZ74zP5634P2v0iq4NqFCqlh39sPYdzb2t6luikNniWuN-SI/s320/Jen+and+Will+and+Benicia+Fitness.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">My son Will joined me on my first day back at the gym. </span></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">He likes to do the kids' circuit while I workout.</span></em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">But tonight, I ventured to the gym alone with iPhone in hand and my husband's earphones in my ears because I can never seem to find my own. I tried to step in time to Keith Urban's "You Look Good in My Shirt" and "run just as fast as I could" to Pink's "Just Like a Pill." I just LOVE Pink!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7xhnGr6-X5ZTHtWbrOewgBYHJD_MyXiA3pI86gOoWdwe1fMdded8KkT5kyng6qaiRKqgra7smZxjqD5jfaHSjdDwOpNV2xbSPumGo4Ve0JIJ-0bTfjp2NdaQ_7uqv2zjnmBg0OfRk_k/s1600/jen+working+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7xhnGr6-X5ZTHtWbrOewgBYHJD_MyXiA3pI86gOoWdwe1fMdded8KkT5kyng6qaiRKqgra7smZxjqD5jfaHSjdDwOpNV2xbSPumGo4Ve0JIJ-0bTfjp2NdaQ_7uqv2zjnmBg0OfRk_k/s320/jen+working+out.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>It's not pretty, but I took a photo of me with my iPhone while working working out on the elliptical machine. </em></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>Just in case you didn't believe that I actually made it inside the gym doors!</em></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And then Josh Groban's "To Where you Are" came on, which is not your typical workout song. That's one of the songs we used for the video montage at my mom's memorial service in January. She passed away on January 10th after a very long illness. I miss her. I think about her a lot, and I remember all the Weight Watchers meetings we used to go to together years ago. We were both so proud when we reached our goal weight together. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHAJbfKY4a0n-BEAscK_IvBvSMSfmg9-VTQ_eUxX495qJrTMOyWHEetrTgZ9nkuZ-DNT-wmTmok9zccgoSpw07ieEndWKsM1lLvNTx4eRwsPzSub5q9GrY4-mRT5U51UcO1HTEwh6jNE/s1600/Jen-and-Mom-WW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHAJbfKY4a0n-BEAscK_IvBvSMSfmg9-VTQ_eUxX495qJrTMOyWHEetrTgZ9nkuZ-DNT-wmTmok9zccgoSpw07ieEndWKsM1lLvNTx4eRwsPzSub5q9GrY4-mRT5U51UcO1HTEwh6jNE/s320/Jen-and-Mom-WW.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It was towards the end of my 30-minute workout when Josh's song came on. At that point, I was getting a little winded, but I seemed to hit my stride when he sang:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><em>I believe that angels breathe and that love will live on and never leave. Fly me up to where you are beyond a distant star. I wish upon tonight to see you smile, if only for a while to know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are. I know you're there. A breath away's not far to where you are.</em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I do believe in signs, but recognize that Josh's song playing on the iPhone was likely just happenstance given that it's one of not many songs on my play list. Nevertheless, the timing of it all gave me an extra spring in my step and reminded me that mom would be proud of me. And I'm certain she's rooting me on from heaven as I attempt to lose 40 pounds by my 40th birthday. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The good news is the exercising and eating right is working. I lost another 1 1/2 pounds this week, bringing my total weight loss to 8.5 pounds. For fun, here's a photo of me just before I started my journey, when I was 8.5 pounds heavier....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-DriTtjJrlZYMWtHKM4_uVVsMDcI541JWuszk6A0BmBKlgraE9kk_jfdv_Z1kNfbHnNSg54mMB-1kDatrCgtR5i3Xq2YYF7JZQl1LALRfvoNl3kAhjTOvJlb4M4d4-iuaGa04JxhiWI/s1600/pre-diet-photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-DriTtjJrlZYMWtHKM4_uVVsMDcI541JWuszk6A0BmBKlgraE9kk_jfdv_Z1kNfbHnNSg54mMB-1kDatrCgtR5i3Xq2YYF7JZQl1LALRfvoNl3kAhjTOvJlb4M4d4-iuaGa04JxhiWI/s320/pre-diet-photo.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">and here's a photo of me from today.....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzpOe5eL0reqMCQNHd4gC4C4SO-dqbK0c-ZI-ipry7cO299YIBMSeMTfRun94PCTwFILwxLCHb5vA25tLsyg9rkF7gpeuiITCACLHq2vY-GpXLu51TT0rGIGJlrE8CxPT9JH5eXxGwAI/s1600/40+by+40+pic+03+25+10_picnik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzpOe5eL0reqMCQNHd4gC4C4SO-dqbK0c-ZI-ipry7cO299YIBMSeMTfRun94PCTwFILwxLCHb5vA25tLsyg9rkF7gpeuiITCACLHq2vY-GpXLu51TT0rGIGJlrE8CxPT9JH5eXxGwAI/s320/40+by+40+pic+03+25+10_picnik.jpg" width="194" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">It's not a terribly dramatic change just looking at the picture. But, I can tell you that I definitely feel better and more in control of my diet. And my jeans are baggier than they were four weeks ago!</div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06557541712824745817noreply@blogger.com4