If this blog could talk, it would say (in its best Mrs. Doubtfire impression), "HelllllOOOOO!!!" Good gravy boat, it's as if The Pledge of Glory no longer exists! In both blog form and my physical form, unfortunately. Let me begin by saying, I have gained some weight. It's only fair that I would... three months of eating and drinking like the fatter-Jackie of yesteryear will do that to a person. I have also been exercising far less than I once was. I shan't make excuses, and I'm honestly pretty disappointed in myself. Once consistently weighing in between 190 and 195 lbs, I am now tipping the scale around 195 to 200lbs. Woof.
This disappointment is something I address daily. I have many conversations with myself about the fact that weight-loss and health are long-term issues, and set-backs are bound to happen. What disappoints me most is not the fact that I won't lose the 40 lbs (I stupidly set this goal prior to weighing myself. 'Tis quite sad, but I actually thought I weighed MORE than 221.6 lbs before taking The Pledge. My body has since indicated, loud and clear, that 181.6 lbs might be a bit of a strectch for me). I'm disappointed that I made an eight month commitment to my health, and seemingly threw in the towel after about four. I had made sound, healthy choices and changes from August to January. The sort of healthy choices I was hoping to adopt for life. I was not dieting; merely altering my lifestyle. I must admit, it's a bit disheartening to know that I haven't been able to maintain these behaviors for even seven months. SO, now that I've had that pity party of one...
WHAT AM I GONNA DO ABOUT IT?! Well, a very "special" friend of mine has likely found the perfect way to halt my three month Will she ever re-board the wagon?! bender. This "special" friend, who I like to call Ms. Kelly, suggested her and I do a "Reboot" ala Joe Cross. So who is this "thinspiration" of a man and what the hell is a Reboot, you ask?! Well, Joe Cross is someone who revolutionized his health at the age of 40. Struggling with both high blood pressure and high cholesterol, Joe pledged to consume only the juice of fresh fruits and vegetables for 60 days. He began this pledge, his very first Reboot, in late 2007. By March of the following year, he was no longer on any of the medications he was taking "night and day" as a man 100 lbs overweight. As for the Reboot itself... Cross's website, www.jointhereboot.com, describes it like so:
A Reboot is a period of time in which a person commits to eating or drinking only fresh fruits and vegetables. Reboot is not a diet, it is a time for the body to reset, cleanse and take in all those vital nutrients Mother Nature intended for us. The Reboot Program allows you to take control of your diet, improve your health and wellness... The goal is to help you break a cycle of unhealthy eating, or simply enhance the quality of your diet by increasing your intake of fruits and vegetables.
As I write this blog, day one of our 10 day Reboot is coming to an end. Fortunately for us, we are still able to chew... the first three days involve drinking AND eating fruits, vegetables and sprouted seeds (don't ask me to explain the latter lol). I plan to blog every day of our Reboot, so I encourage those of you interested in raunchy farts and epic poops to keep reading! I've practically eaten my weight in berries and spinach today, so my already "over-active" stomach was having a hay-day! Praise cheeses I was able to exile myself from my coworkers a bit... I spent the better part of my nine hour shift at the front desk's far computer in a coma brought on by my own bodily gases ;) Okay, so I'm exaggerating a bit... sure, my fruity-veggie gas was toxic, but according to my Reboot diary my gas at least came in the form of "raunchy, yet fortunately rare farts." Speaking of fortunate, I think Kelly and I are pretty lucky to have a third muskateer in on this endeavor... our good friend Holly is tackling the 10 day Reboot with us, too! Thank Gaga, we haven't already turned into that couple that "diets" and runs half marathons together... I can call us a couple, right?! Here's hoping! Anyway, wish us luck as we continue this 10 day quest to Reboot our bodies!!! Like I said, I'll be blogging daily throughout this process. As always, your moral support is greatly appreciated!
Here's to all y'all and the overwhelming support you've already sent my way... especially in the past year! As you may or may not know, I turned 23 years young on the 18th of March. I must admit, 22 was truly an excellent year for me. It very well could've been the best year of my life. Between spending a semester in Italy, coming out of the closet, meeting some truly fantastic people and getting healthy, I have virtually no complaints! Sure, I may have seemed a little pessimistic about the current state of The Pledge of Glory, but this Reboot has me feeling really good about re-boarding the healthy-wagon! And I wasn't really being pessimistic, I was merely being honest about my recent lack of commitment. All in all, it's hard to be disappointed in myself when my work-pants are still comically large... when the scale regularly reads less than 200 lbs (as a year ago I would've told you that was pert' near impossible)... when Mama Hauser is taking a dress I ordered in August in nearly eight inches! Set backs will happen, but we must remember the satisfaction of progress and channel that positive energy!
Here's hopin y'all have seen the new movie version of Dr. Suess's The Lorax! If not, allow me to enlighten you...
"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."
I'd like to leave you with yet another quote... just because it's been SO DAMN LONG since I last blogged, and I've compiled quite the list of them. But before I relay this hilarious quote, i must give my childhood bestie (and a loyal Pledge reader) a shout-out. Randi, this long-time friend of mine, found great strength and courage in the 22nd year of her life, too. You might say she really grew some tits (not to be confuzed with balls...) and came into her own. But despite these newfound tits, Randi recognizes that life might still bite ya in the ass. And what does she have to say about that?!
"Sometimes our tits... take some hits."
But hell, that doesn't make her wanna be any less of a woman! You're one helluva gal, Randi! You will forever be the Whitney Houston (R.I.P.) to my Tina Turner! I'm so very proud of you!!!
Again, I'll be blogging the next 9 consecutive days, every step of the Reboot way!!! Stay tuned!
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Is it just me, or is it a lil' too preachy in here?!
I stand at work, miserably full. I have just come from the employee cafeteria, which is normally stocked with, at best, semi-edible food. Before I continue, I must admit that I initially spelt "stocked" like "stalked." And now I have yet another confession, every time I type the word "spelt," I immediately double-check that the word actually exists via Dictionary.com. Turns out every time I look it up, it's still a word. Anyway, back to my story...today our cafeteria was surprisingly stocked with relatively delicious food. By the time I took my break, there was one egg roll left, which was more than enough fried goodness for me, as well as an abundance of this chicken stir-fry of sorts. It was so salty and delicious, I decided I could have a very generous helping. Followed by an even more generous helping. Followed by yet another (and perhaps most generous) helping. Yup, the girl who recently told you she was recommitting to The Pledge ate three helpings of cafeteria stir fry with virtually no hesitation. Sure, I thought to myself, "The first excessive portion was probably enough." But the devil-portion of my conscience (aka fat Jackie) was shouting "MUST EAT STIR-FRY" so loud I couldn't hear a damn thing the increasingly meek, health-conscious Jackie was trying to get out. This triple-portion meal was the perfect way to conclude a weekend of un-Pledgelike behavior. Last weekend was supposed to be the last of my glutton-fests, but this weekend was just as bad, if not worse.
I started writing this edition of The Pledge so long ago, I can't even remember how many gluttonous weekends I've had since. What I do know is that I've deemed literally every Monday in February a "new beginning" or a "fresh start." I said I was starting anew Monday the 6th after a fun-filled fat-Jackie weekend... I sad I'd recommit again Monday the 13th after an equally unhealthy weekend... and I said "enough is enough" yet again Monday the 20th after a, you guessed it, horribly un-Pledgelike weekend. And the Monday-Friday routine hasn't exactly been the healthiest either. What does a girl need to do to reboard the Pledge-wagon and lose these last 10-12 lbs?! Perhaps eat a fried Snickers... or maybe even half of one would do the trick!
I've said it once and I'll say it again, I have absolutely no will power after a long and annoying night of work. This normally isn't an issue, as there's not typically a lot of food just chillin' around the hotel. But it was an issue last night when a group of guests shared their leftover Mexican food. Remember how I said I was going to stop eating red meat until the end of The Pledge?! Well, for whatever reason, I didn't consider the steak fajitas they gave us red meat (I have since given up red meat for Lent... While I'm definitely not Catholic, I've almost always effectively given up something each Lenten season). And nothing was going to stop me from eating some leftover enchiladas! I was already feeling a bit disgusted with myself after my little food-fiesta when I saw what appeard to be a container full of burritos. "Who needs a burrtio?" I asked myself. But these weren't burritos... these weren't burritos at all. They were FRIED SNICKERS. The fat kid inside of me has always wanted to try a fried Snickers. Luckily my coworker Michelle and I shared this deliciously American treat, but nevertheless I ate deep-fried candy last night. I think that's rock bottom for a wayward "dieter." At least I hope it is...
So I attempt to start anew yet again, but this time on a Thursday (as I've obviously had no luck with Mondays). And there's no better day to recommit than a GAGAerobics-Thursday!!! I'm so in love with the fact that I've found a fun and healthy hobby to do with friends, lovers, strangers, teachers... anyone who cares to join! Consider this yet another invitation to do so... we GAGAcise at 6:30 every Tuesday and Thursday night at Sotto!!!
On a more somber note, I've recently started reading Marya Hornbacher's Wasted: A Memior of Anorexia and Bullimia. It is a horrifyingly fascinating account of a young woman's life all but destroyed by eating disorders. At just nine years old, Hornbacher began purging. Her every childhood memory revolves around food... literally every one of them. Having not lived with something so consuming, it is impossible for me to articulate these struggles. I've always felt that having an eating disorder is like being haunted by a horrendous demon, but this book conveys a life riddled with anorexia and/or bulimia as an even more intense, lifelong experience. Reading this book is as close as I'll ever get to being inside the mind of an anoretic and/or bulimic, and I'm realizing that living with these disorders is a virtual hell on earth.
Of all the intense situations recounted in this book, there's one particular occurrence I'd like to discuss. If I remember correctly, Hornbacher is roughly 14 years old and at the height of her bulimia. She's sitting in detention eating a bag of chips when her hippy and likely overweight teacher wags her finger and says, "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips." I'm praying to GAGA that those of you who work with young, impressionable minds (or ever come into contact with them, for that matter) NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THIS. As for those of us who don't, I'm begging that we don't say shit like this to each other! This seemingly innocent comment could be enough to spiral even the most secure of people into some weird state of self doubt and spur thoughts of body dysmorphia. GAGA only knows the unhealthy weightloss means one might adapt upon hearing such comments...
Why would anyone ever say something like that anyway?! Just to feel better about the fried Snickers they ate yesterday?! I'm gonna keep preaching for a bit, so I encourage you to skip to the next paragraph if you're sick of Jacko's lil' soap box rants. Anyway, we live in a culture where women (especially) are conditioned to constantly long to be thinner. What I find so sick about it all is that we put this pressure upon each other... It's not just our media-poisoned society, which I'm always so quick to blame, that's culpable. It's as if we think it's some big competition. Rather than banning together and encouraging one another to get healthy, we cackle when that bitch from high school gets fat. And I'm just as guilty as the next chick of participating in these little "Haha-she's-fatter-than-me-now" cackle fests. I don't care how much of a bitch she may or may not have been... as my roommate Morgan pointed out, we shouldn't wish fatness upon our worst enemies. Weight-gain not only compromises one's physical health, but it has obvious implications on one's mental well-being. The torture one could inflict upon themselves in response to weight-gain or even just snarky lil' belittling comments is so ridiculously unnecessary.
Being healthy is not a competition. I'm sick of that bull shit. I want even the bitchiest of all bitches to be healthy and feel good about themselves (after all, there's likely a reason he or she is such a bitch).
Here's hoping I didn't misspell hoards of words throughout this horribly rambling and preachy rant. And GAGA only knows how uneducated I sound when trying to wrap my head around perplexing things like eating disorders. But I think I've come to a bit of a conclusion... As Americans, we are not encouraged to be healthy. We are convinced we must be thin. Healthy and thin are not synonymous. If they were, we wouldn't see the quest to be thin in such a competitive manner. At some point, I'm sure a lot of us have said, "I'm skinnier than her, right?!" I, however, highly doubt you've find yourself asking whether you're healthier than that same person. I will finally conclude perhaps the preachiest of all Pledges with an excerpt from Hornbacher's memoir. She addresses how her struggle with eating disorders has turned her into a dual-figure of sorts. She also touches on the presence of that constant longing to be perpetually thinner. But first, I must ask... after this ridiculous post will anyone ever read The Pledge of Glory again?!
"My double image, the evil skinny bitch who hisses, Don't eat. I'm not going to let you eat. I'll let go as soon as you're thin, I swear I will. Everything will be okay when you're thin." - Marya Hornbacher's Wasted: a Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
I started writing this edition of The Pledge so long ago, I can't even remember how many gluttonous weekends I've had since. What I do know is that I've deemed literally every Monday in February a "new beginning" or a "fresh start." I said I was starting anew Monday the 6th after a fun-filled fat-Jackie weekend... I sad I'd recommit again Monday the 13th after an equally unhealthy weekend... and I said "enough is enough" yet again Monday the 20th after a, you guessed it, horribly un-Pledgelike weekend. And the Monday-Friday routine hasn't exactly been the healthiest either. What does a girl need to do to reboard the Pledge-wagon and lose these last 10-12 lbs?! Perhaps eat a fried Snickers... or maybe even half of one would do the trick!
I've said it once and I'll say it again, I have absolutely no will power after a long and annoying night of work. This normally isn't an issue, as there's not typically a lot of food just chillin' around the hotel. But it was an issue last night when a group of guests shared their leftover Mexican food. Remember how I said I was going to stop eating red meat until the end of The Pledge?! Well, for whatever reason, I didn't consider the steak fajitas they gave us red meat (I have since given up red meat for Lent... While I'm definitely not Catholic, I've almost always effectively given up something each Lenten season). And nothing was going to stop me from eating some leftover enchiladas! I was already feeling a bit disgusted with myself after my little food-fiesta when I saw what appeard to be a container full of burritos. "Who needs a burrtio?" I asked myself. But these weren't burritos... these weren't burritos at all. They were FRIED SNICKERS. The fat kid inside of me has always wanted to try a fried Snickers. Luckily my coworker Michelle and I shared this deliciously American treat, but nevertheless I ate deep-fried candy last night. I think that's rock bottom for a wayward "dieter." At least I hope it is...
So I attempt to start anew yet again, but this time on a Thursday (as I've obviously had no luck with Mondays). And there's no better day to recommit than a GAGAerobics-Thursday!!! I'm so in love with the fact that I've found a fun and healthy hobby to do with friends, lovers, strangers, teachers... anyone who cares to join! Consider this yet another invitation to do so... we GAGAcise at 6:30 every Tuesday and Thursday night at Sotto!!!
On a more somber note, I've recently started reading Marya Hornbacher's Wasted: A Memior of Anorexia and Bullimia. It is a horrifyingly fascinating account of a young woman's life all but destroyed by eating disorders. At just nine years old, Hornbacher began purging. Her every childhood memory revolves around food... literally every one of them. Having not lived with something so consuming, it is impossible for me to articulate these struggles. I've always felt that having an eating disorder is like being haunted by a horrendous demon, but this book conveys a life riddled with anorexia and/or bulimia as an even more intense, lifelong experience. Reading this book is as close as I'll ever get to being inside the mind of an anoretic and/or bulimic, and I'm realizing that living with these disorders is a virtual hell on earth.
Of all the intense situations recounted in this book, there's one particular occurrence I'd like to discuss. If I remember correctly, Hornbacher is roughly 14 years old and at the height of her bulimia. She's sitting in detention eating a bag of chips when her hippy and likely overweight teacher wags her finger and says, "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips." I'm praying to GAGA that those of you who work with young, impressionable minds (or ever come into contact with them, for that matter) NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THIS. As for those of us who don't, I'm begging that we don't say shit like this to each other! This seemingly innocent comment could be enough to spiral even the most secure of people into some weird state of self doubt and spur thoughts of body dysmorphia. GAGA only knows the unhealthy weightloss means one might adapt upon hearing such comments...
Why would anyone ever say something like that anyway?! Just to feel better about the fried Snickers they ate yesterday?! I'm gonna keep preaching for a bit, so I encourage you to skip to the next paragraph if you're sick of Jacko's lil' soap box rants. Anyway, we live in a culture where women (especially) are conditioned to constantly long to be thinner. What I find so sick about it all is that we put this pressure upon each other... It's not just our media-poisoned society, which I'm always so quick to blame, that's culpable. It's as if we think it's some big competition. Rather than banning together and encouraging one another to get healthy, we cackle when that bitch from high school gets fat. And I'm just as guilty as the next chick of participating in these little "Haha-she's-fatter-than-me-now" cackle fests. I don't care how much of a bitch she may or may not have been... as my roommate Morgan pointed out, we shouldn't wish fatness upon our worst enemies. Weight-gain not only compromises one's physical health, but it has obvious implications on one's mental well-being. The torture one could inflict upon themselves in response to weight-gain or even just snarky lil' belittling comments is so ridiculously unnecessary.
Being healthy is not a competition. I'm sick of that bull shit. I want even the bitchiest of all bitches to be healthy and feel good about themselves (after all, there's likely a reason he or she is such a bitch).
Here's hoping I didn't misspell hoards of words throughout this horribly rambling and preachy rant. And GAGA only knows how uneducated I sound when trying to wrap my head around perplexing things like eating disorders. But I think I've come to a bit of a conclusion... As Americans, we are not encouraged to be healthy. We are convinced we must be thin. Healthy and thin are not synonymous. If they were, we wouldn't see the quest to be thin in such a competitive manner. At some point, I'm sure a lot of us have said, "I'm skinnier than her, right?!" I, however, highly doubt you've find yourself asking whether you're healthier than that same person. I will finally conclude perhaps the preachiest of all Pledges with an excerpt from Hornbacher's memoir. She addresses how her struggle with eating disorders has turned her into a dual-figure of sorts. She also touches on the presence of that constant longing to be perpetually thinner. But first, I must ask... after this ridiculous post will anyone ever read The Pledge of Glory again?!
"My double image, the evil skinny bitch who hisses, Don't eat. I'm not going to let you eat. I'll let go as soon as you're thin, I swear I will. Everything will be okay when you're thin." - Marya Hornbacher's Wasted: a Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Monday, February 6, 2012
Whatever happened to flossing?
I'll begin by saying I almost cried tonight at work. There were no trying hotel guests. I hadn't been disciplined by management. And there weren't even any gaycist slurs thrown my way. Nope. I found myself fighting back the tears not when I missed Madonna's halftime show, but when I found out she had sung Like A Prayer. The moral of that pointless story: I'm a ridiculous person. And a privileged one at that.
How does one transition from such an irrelevant story?! Not smoothly, that's for sure... lets talk about flossing, shall we? It was but one of my many New Years resolutions. Well, February has only just begun and I've already stopped flossing. I've even stopped trying, for that matter. Where have all the good intentions gone?!
Speaking of good intentions, I am recommitting myself to The Pledge of Glory this week!!! Wednesday, February 8th marks 6 months of GAGAcising and health-consciousness!! Some of these months were healthier than others, and it's safe to say the month of January was likely the least healthy of them all! For whatever reason, I was most reminiscent of fat-Jackie throughout the month... neither eating nor drinking in moderation. Despite my success, I was just so damn sick of trying to lose weight. It starts to get to one after awhile, so apparently I deemed the month of January a "maintaining month." Weighing in between 192 and 195 lbs, I'm fairly confident I was able to do so without taking any steps back. I now have until April 28th to drop the last 10-13lbs, so there's no time like the present to recommit to my pledge!!! But of course I couldn't do so without having a fat-kid holiday of a weekend...
Whoever came up with the "I'm going to eat myself silly the day before dieting" ritual was a complete idiot. But who's the bigger yutz, the person who came up with the stupid ritual or the one who realizes how ridiculous it is and does it anyway?! Don't answer that... Anyway, yesterday just so happened to be that "last day of food-freedom" for me. Well, lets be honest, I treated the entire weekend like that. Without boring you with another lengthy excerpt from my food-diary, I'll try to briefly convey just how absurd my weekend eating habits were. It all began Friday night, when I started drinking at about 4:30 and didn't stop until midnight when I was wolfing down an insanely delicious Parthenon Gyro Chicken Caesar Pita sandwich. Mmmmm. Saturday, a day in which I was prepared to help family friends move, turned out to be a "stand around and watch the movers work while we eat bagels, pizza and Scotcharoo-bars" fest. And the true gluttony began Sunday when I had my first SHAMROCK SHAKE of the season, which I would never regret, but also an 11 pm piece of cheesecake. I don't even like cheesecake, but knowing my hours of food-freedom were disappearing I ate that slice just for the sport of it! The only merit I can find in the pre-diet glutton fest is the awful feeling you experience after such excessive indulgence... I, personally, felt so disgusting, wasteful and even weak-willed after a weekend of dizzying consumption. Here's hoping I remember that feeling the next time I try to eat my weight in whatever may be tempting me.
I've decided these last 10-13 lbs may be a real challenge to take off. I've also realized that virtually all of the "bad foods" I eat involve red meat of some form, particularly the many variations of mystery-meats served in the work cafeteria. To avoid consuming unhealthy foods like corn dogs or what they tell us is prime-rib, my co-worker and new bestie Michelle has given up red meat altogether. She has inspired me to do the same, or at least try to do so until the end of The Pledge. Thinking I'd already started this "no red meat" thing last week, I found myself eating both pepperoni pizza and bacon this weekend! Woof. I guess today starts day one of this quest, too!
A quick little update regarding my twice-weekly GAGAerobics gig (again, we GAGAcise every Tuesday and Thursday at Sotto at 6:30pm) -- I absolutely live for this! We're four sessions in, and I consistently have 6-8 GAGAcisers showing up to each class. Not a huge group, obviously, but it's actually a great size for the space and my non-mik'd voice. Nevertheless, there is always room for more GAGAcisers!!! Come one come all! I don't care how old you are nor do I expect you to wear pink-zebra spandex pants! If you're looking to have fun and get a great workout in, GAGAerobics is for you! And don't tell me people are going to laugh at or make fun of you... not happening in my GAGA-themed exercise class!!! And if you'd rather just watch, by all means we'd love to have you! The bartender on staff will gladly serve you a ring-side drink!
Here's hoping y'all will get yourselves your first Shamrock Shake of the season!!! Having been abroad last spring, the shake I drank yesterday was the first I'd had in two years! Life's simple pleasures should be enjoyed more regularly!!! But what a challenge this seasonal drink will pose to The Pledge...
"Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're probably right." -- Ellen Hauser, educator, church-choir director, mother-extraordinaire
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
How does one transition from such an irrelevant story?! Not smoothly, that's for sure... lets talk about flossing, shall we? It was but one of my many New Years resolutions. Well, February has only just begun and I've already stopped flossing. I've even stopped trying, for that matter. Where have all the good intentions gone?!
Speaking of good intentions, I am recommitting myself to The Pledge of Glory this week!!! Wednesday, February 8th marks 6 months of GAGAcising and health-consciousness!! Some of these months were healthier than others, and it's safe to say the month of January was likely the least healthy of them all! For whatever reason, I was most reminiscent of fat-Jackie throughout the month... neither eating nor drinking in moderation. Despite my success, I was just so damn sick of trying to lose weight. It starts to get to one after awhile, so apparently I deemed the month of January a "maintaining month." Weighing in between 192 and 195 lbs, I'm fairly confident I was able to do so without taking any steps back. I now have until April 28th to drop the last 10-13lbs, so there's no time like the present to recommit to my pledge!!! But of course I couldn't do so without having a fat-kid holiday of a weekend...
Whoever came up with the "I'm going to eat myself silly the day before dieting" ritual was a complete idiot. But who's the bigger yutz, the person who came up with the stupid ritual or the one who realizes how ridiculous it is and does it anyway?! Don't answer that... Anyway, yesterday just so happened to be that "last day of food-freedom" for me. Well, lets be honest, I treated the entire weekend like that. Without boring you with another lengthy excerpt from my food-diary, I'll try to briefly convey just how absurd my weekend eating habits were. It all began Friday night, when I started drinking at about 4:30 and didn't stop until midnight when I was wolfing down an insanely delicious Parthenon Gyro Chicken Caesar Pita sandwich. Mmmmm. Saturday, a day in which I was prepared to help family friends move, turned out to be a "stand around and watch the movers work while we eat bagels, pizza and Scotcharoo-bars" fest. And the true gluttony began Sunday when I had my first SHAMROCK SHAKE of the season, which I would never regret, but also an 11 pm piece of cheesecake. I don't even like cheesecake, but knowing my hours of food-freedom were disappearing I ate that slice just for the sport of it! The only merit I can find in the pre-diet glutton fest is the awful feeling you experience after such excessive indulgence... I, personally, felt so disgusting, wasteful and even weak-willed after a weekend of dizzying consumption. Here's hoping I remember that feeling the next time I try to eat my weight in whatever may be tempting me.
I've decided these last 10-13 lbs may be a real challenge to take off. I've also realized that virtually all of the "bad foods" I eat involve red meat of some form, particularly the many variations of mystery-meats served in the work cafeteria. To avoid consuming unhealthy foods like corn dogs or what they tell us is prime-rib, my co-worker and new bestie Michelle has given up red meat altogether. She has inspired me to do the same, or at least try to do so until the end of The Pledge. Thinking I'd already started this "no red meat" thing last week, I found myself eating both pepperoni pizza and bacon this weekend! Woof. I guess today starts day one of this quest, too!
A quick little update regarding my twice-weekly GAGAerobics gig (again, we GAGAcise every Tuesday and Thursday at Sotto at 6:30pm) -- I absolutely live for this! We're four sessions in, and I consistently have 6-8 GAGAcisers showing up to each class. Not a huge group, obviously, but it's actually a great size for the space and my non-mik'd voice. Nevertheless, there is always room for more GAGAcisers!!! Come one come all! I don't care how old you are nor do I expect you to wear pink-zebra spandex pants! If you're looking to have fun and get a great workout in, GAGAerobics is for you! And don't tell me people are going to laugh at or make fun of you... not happening in my GAGA-themed exercise class!!! And if you'd rather just watch, by all means we'd love to have you! The bartender on staff will gladly serve you a ring-side drink!
Here's hoping y'all will get yourselves your first Shamrock Shake of the season!!! Having been abroad last spring, the shake I drank yesterday was the first I'd had in two years! Life's simple pleasures should be enjoyed more regularly!!! But what a challenge this seasonal drink will pose to The Pledge...
"Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're probably right." -- Ellen Hauser, educator, church-choir director, mother-extraordinaire
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
GAGAerobics Takes Madison
Just thought I'd quickly update The Pledge with a very pleasant announcement. Beginning tonight, Tuesday, January 24th, I will be leading group GAGAerobics sessions at Sotto every Tuesday and Thursday!!! Sotto, Madison's newest "gay-friendly" bar and dance club, will open its doors at 6 pm, and the GAGAcising will commence at 6:30! To say this is somewhat of a "dream come true" for me is cheesey, yet not overstated.
In a perfect world I'd be in the financial situation to rent out the space, and we'd all GAGAcise for free. But as most of you know, my job pays the bills and really nothing more. With that being said, GAGAerobics sessions are $3 each or two for $5. I want to make it very clear that I am not being paid to lead these sessions. We'd like to keep them as affordable as possible, and I'm most interested in simply sharing the experience with people who are looking to have good, healthy fun! To be surrounded by people who love GAGA, are invested in my goal or are just looking for a fun workout is payment enough! I need to GAGAcise anyway, so why not do so among friends?
What I find hilarious about this whole thing, is that I'm far from the typical aerobics instructor whose body you're covetting throughout a workout. No one is going to look at my body in envy. While I am not "the face" of fitness, what I'd like GAGAerobics participants to remember is that I am the face of improvement... someone who has made health a priority in her life, at least to a greater extent than it's ever been. Like Madonna's quote from the last edition of The Pledge says, "You can always change, become a better version of yourself." I'd like to think I'm doing that.
And I thought I had to be drunk to compliment myself! Speaking of which, don't comment on my figure if you see me, perhaps a little schnockered up, at a bar... as a couple friends learned last night, you'll likely get a lengthy response in which I shamelessly pat myself on the back for my weight-loss efforts. Sometimes it's hard to be modest when you feel good about yourself... and I was feeling particularly good last night for a few reasons.
Well here's hoping I see you at an upcoming GAGAerobics session!!! Whether it's this week or in March, I'll be at Sotto every Tuesday and Thursday ready for you! It's surely an experience!
"To enjoy each day as it comes is the greatest success of them all." -- a cheesey graduation card
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
In a perfect world I'd be in the financial situation to rent out the space, and we'd all GAGAcise for free. But as most of you know, my job pays the bills and really nothing more. With that being said, GAGAerobics sessions are $3 each or two for $5. I want to make it very clear that I am not being paid to lead these sessions. We'd like to keep them as affordable as possible, and I'm most interested in simply sharing the experience with people who are looking to have good, healthy fun! To be surrounded by people who love GAGA, are invested in my goal or are just looking for a fun workout is payment enough! I need to GAGAcise anyway, so why not do so among friends?
What I find hilarious about this whole thing, is that I'm far from the typical aerobics instructor whose body you're covetting throughout a workout. No one is going to look at my body in envy. While I am not "the face" of fitness, what I'd like GAGAerobics participants to remember is that I am the face of improvement... someone who has made health a priority in her life, at least to a greater extent than it's ever been. Like Madonna's quote from the last edition of The Pledge says, "You can always change, become a better version of yourself." I'd like to think I'm doing that.
And I thought I had to be drunk to compliment myself! Speaking of which, don't comment on my figure if you see me, perhaps a little schnockered up, at a bar... as a couple friends learned last night, you'll likely get a lengthy response in which I shamelessly pat myself on the back for my weight-loss efforts. Sometimes it's hard to be modest when you feel good about yourself... and I was feeling particularly good last night for a few reasons.
Well here's hoping I see you at an upcoming GAGAerobics session!!! Whether it's this week or in March, I'll be at Sotto every Tuesday and Thursday ready for you! It's surely an experience!
"To enjoy each day as it comes is the greatest success of them all." -- a cheesey graduation card
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Friday, January 13, 2012
Haus Rules
Morgan: I think living together again will be good for us. We'll be healthy influences on one another. How would you feel about having some house diet rules?
Me: I don't really do diet "rules."
Morgan: Well, I don't mean rules like, "No Drinking." I mean funny rules like, "No Angry Hummus."
What's "angry hummus" you ask?! Well, angry hummus is somewhat of an event that takes place after several hours of being nice to hotel guests. After work I'll sit down to chat with Morgan over a tub of hummus and some pretzels, and the gorging commences. With every story I tell about an annoying situation (or dare I say a trying guest), I'll chow down on another pretzel dunked in an even more laughable amount of hummus than the last. By the time I'm through venting, I've eaten half a tub (or about 5 servings) of hummus. Thus the instatement of our first of three house rules, No Angry Hummus. Yes, I understand that hummus might actually be somewhat "good" for me, but not in ice cream size portions. The other rules read as follows: No means NO and No Weighing on the Rag.
We've instated the No means NO rule, because we've struggled a bit in the past with the whole "eating in numbers" thing. We've been known to talk each other into eating things we should just so no to. Or sometimes, like the other night, we'll even talk each other into eating things we've found the will power to refuse. After an excellent aerobics session with our fabulous instructor "Pat," who lovingly refers to me as "Jackie with the fabulous hair," Morgan and I decided to take the State Street route home. And this route just so happens to run right past Qdoba, my ultimate weakness. Morgan suggested we go there for a little post-workout meal, and somehow I was able to say no. When we got back to the apartment she suggested it once again, and after I said no she hinted at going there yet again. After saying no a third or fourth time, I finally gave in. We went to Qdoba and while it was delicious, the joy that typically accompanies this experience just wasn't there. I was suddenly quite angry knowing that our awesome workout would be for naught, and I was also rather angry knowing I had said no at least three times.
And this the day after I'd had a conversation with Morgan about needing allies! I understand that The Pledge of Glory is completely my battle, but sometimes I could get by with a little help from my friends. You know, if we're at a bar together and I say I don't want a drink, I don't want a drink. I'm assuming anyone who knows me understands why I'm saying no, so PLEASE don't try to persuade me or tell me I look like I could use a drink! Hell, you hardly have to know me to have heard me preach about The Pledge... if you've met me even once, chances are I've taken it upon myself to tell you all about my little project. Anyway, I'd like to think I'm not one who needs to be schnookered up to have or be fun, so just be my ally and go with it. It can be damn hard for my fat inner booze-hound to say no, so please don't invite me to second guess that no when I actually do.
At the time of the Qdoba incident I was a little perturbed with Morgan, but this was definitely compounded by my bad, period attitude. Which leads me to our next rule, No Weighing on the Rag. This rule was purposed by Ms. Morgan after hearing me bitch innumerable times about the extra weight I carry around when menstruating. The whole Qdoba thing happened not only while on the rag but also shortly after the holiday season. Therefore, the scale was reading really lack-luster numbers in the high 190s/ low 200s range (those are some freakin' November numbers). So I was freaking out a bit about the 20lbs I'd have to lose in only four months... yes, I'd lost 20 in the four months prior, but loosing the weight will be increasingly more difficult from here on out.
Despite having vowed never to step on a scale during my period again, I was doing so and overreacting about pert near everything. Needless to say, as soon as I'd ditched the tampons my weight was drastically lower! Define drastic, you say. Well, on the rag the scale was consistently reading at least 198.9lbs. Almost immediately after saying farewell to "Aunt Flow," which is a ridiculous period euphemism my friend Paula (and no one else) used to say, the scale read 192.9!!! Hells freakin' bells! My weight has been fluctuating in the 192-195 range ever since, but after quite the SNOW DAY, FAT DAY it's sitting on the higher end of that spectrum. SNOW DAY, FAT DAYs, for the record, involve eating as much of whatever you want in celebration of a wintry storm. Even without Brianna, my best SNOW DAY, FAT DAY comrade, I had a pretty successful SNOW DAY, FAT DAY. I won't bore you with another food diary entry, but lets just say I ate out three times yesterday. Naturally, Qdoba was one such restaurant destination... so Ms. Morgan, one of my greatest Pledge allies, don't think I'm still salty over the Qdoba thing... I never really had the right to be salty about it from the get go.
Wow. Having failed to blog since December 23rd, I have SO MUCH TO SAY! I apologize about all the rambling that has taken and will continue to take place. I suppose I should address the holidays, but I don't really have anything insightful to say about them. I ate pretty much whatever I wanted and hardly "held back" at all. During the Tjoflat Christmas celebration, I guess I was pretty successful in wedging myself in a corner where I couldn't escape every two seconds to get some of mother Ellen's famous sweetened puff corn or one of sister Liz's ridiculous Paula Dean chocolate chip cookie dough truffles... they were literally giant balls of cookie dough dunked in delicious chocolate. Liz, did I thank you for providing perhaps the most difficult diet temptation yet? Overall, I guess I was pretty successful in not drinking a whole lot over the holidays... except for maybe that one night in downtown Whitehall where things got a little crazy at the "S&M" bar... what happens in S&M, stays in S&M.
Despite the holidays, I've managed to lose roughly 27lbs since this whole quest began in August. For those of you not real gifted in the math department, I've 13lbs to lose in order to meet my 40lb April 28th goal!!! Anyway, people often ask me something along the lines of, "So what's your secret?" I almost always struggle to answer this damn question. First of all, when you were an incredibly gluttonous, lazy college kid, a few healthy changes can work wonders for you. Simply getting my ass of the couch to GAGAcise or rollerblade thrice a week has been huge for me. And drinking at least less frequently than a college kid has done wonders as well.
But if I could sum it all up, I guess knowing myself has been the real secret. Though I can't seem to learn this lesson, I know I cannot sit down with a tub of hummus and eat a reasonable portion of it. It's as simple as portioning a bit out and enjoying it in moderation. Also, some nights I know I cannot go to a bar and just have one drink. The solution is simple. I shan't put myself in that situation on this particular night. Some nights I know I'm incapable of even passing by a Qdoba without coveting some Mexican Gumbo and ultimately stopping in. Once again, a simple solution... take a different route home. So lets know and understand ourselves! Know the temptations you can and cannot resist, know your triggers and discover the root of your unhealthy habits. To me, it's no coincidence whatsoever that I've been capable of revolutionizing my health in the same year I've announced, acknowledged and celebrated my lifestyle. Having come out, I'm no longer seeking comfort in unhealthy habits like excessive eating and drinking (with the exception of a few SNOW DAY, FAT DAYs here and there). Here's to a 2012 dedicated to total health... of mind, body and spirit!
Speaking of the new year, lets talk resolutions! Mine are as follows (and in no order of importance): Complete The Pledge, floss, MEET GAGA and leave Madison no later than September. As for that final resolution, do cities exist where the lesbian circle isn't so freakishly small?! GAGA, I hope so.
A quick story to demonstrate how effectively I often put my foot in my mouth... In the work cafeteria the other day, I gazed longingly at a vat of mystery meat (sometimes that stuff appeals to me... GAGA knows why). I asked my coworker what he thought it was, and he responded, "I don't know. It's probably pork, and I don't eat that stuff." So, thinking he's just another one of my interesting coworkers who refuses to eat pork because its gross or because pigs are allegedly very intelligent and therefore more aware of their suffering (not my rationale here, people) I say, "Oh, you're one of those, aren't you?" To which this coworker responds, "A Jew? Yes." Bahahaha thank GAGA this particular coworker has a great sense of humor...
Yet another tangent... The bathroom wall just told me, "Both sex outside of marriage and homosexuality are sins in God's sight." Yeah, and so are my SNOW DAY, FAT DAYs. As one of my oh-so-wise study abroad professors said while watching me dish copious amounts of Chef Bruno's homemade lasagna onto my plate, "GLUTTONY. Gluttony is in the third ring of Dante's inferno."
Here's hoping your 2011 was filled with as many positive experiences with wonderful friends and family as was mine! If the world indeed ends in December of this year, I will have at least spent 23 amazing years in the presence of some truly wonderful people. That, and won't have to pay back my student loans ;)
“No matter who you are, no matter what you did, no matter where you've come from, you can always change, become a better version of yourself.” - Madonna
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Me: I don't really do diet "rules."
Morgan: Well, I don't mean rules like, "No Drinking." I mean funny rules like, "No Angry Hummus."
What's "angry hummus" you ask?! Well, angry hummus is somewhat of an event that takes place after several hours of being nice to hotel guests. After work I'll sit down to chat with Morgan over a tub of hummus and some pretzels, and the gorging commences. With every story I tell about an annoying situation (or dare I say a trying guest), I'll chow down on another pretzel dunked in an even more laughable amount of hummus than the last. By the time I'm through venting, I've eaten half a tub (or about 5 servings) of hummus. Thus the instatement of our first of three house rules, No Angry Hummus. Yes, I understand that hummus might actually be somewhat "good" for me, but not in ice cream size portions. The other rules read as follows: No means NO and No Weighing on the Rag.
We've instated the No means NO rule, because we've struggled a bit in the past with the whole "eating in numbers" thing. We've been known to talk each other into eating things we should just so no to. Or sometimes, like the other night, we'll even talk each other into eating things we've found the will power to refuse. After an excellent aerobics session with our fabulous instructor "Pat," who lovingly refers to me as "Jackie with the fabulous hair," Morgan and I decided to take the State Street route home. And this route just so happens to run right past Qdoba, my ultimate weakness. Morgan suggested we go there for a little post-workout meal, and somehow I was able to say no. When we got back to the apartment she suggested it once again, and after I said no she hinted at going there yet again. After saying no a third or fourth time, I finally gave in. We went to Qdoba and while it was delicious, the joy that typically accompanies this experience just wasn't there. I was suddenly quite angry knowing that our awesome workout would be for naught, and I was also rather angry knowing I had said no at least three times.
And this the day after I'd had a conversation with Morgan about needing allies! I understand that The Pledge of Glory is completely my battle, but sometimes I could get by with a little help from my friends. You know, if we're at a bar together and I say I don't want a drink, I don't want a drink. I'm assuming anyone who knows me understands why I'm saying no, so PLEASE don't try to persuade me or tell me I look like I could use a drink! Hell, you hardly have to know me to have heard me preach about The Pledge... if you've met me even once, chances are I've taken it upon myself to tell you all about my little project. Anyway, I'd like to think I'm not one who needs to be schnookered up to have or be fun, so just be my ally and go with it. It can be damn hard for my fat inner booze-hound to say no, so please don't invite me to second guess that no when I actually do.
At the time of the Qdoba incident I was a little perturbed with Morgan, but this was definitely compounded by my bad, period attitude. Which leads me to our next rule, No Weighing on the Rag. This rule was purposed by Ms. Morgan after hearing me bitch innumerable times about the extra weight I carry around when menstruating. The whole Qdoba thing happened not only while on the rag but also shortly after the holiday season. Therefore, the scale was reading really lack-luster numbers in the high 190s/ low 200s range (those are some freakin' November numbers). So I was freaking out a bit about the 20lbs I'd have to lose in only four months... yes, I'd lost 20 in the four months prior, but loosing the weight will be increasingly more difficult from here on out.
Despite having vowed never to step on a scale during my period again, I was doing so and overreacting about pert near everything. Needless to say, as soon as I'd ditched the tampons my weight was drastically lower! Define drastic, you say. Well, on the rag the scale was consistently reading at least 198.9lbs. Almost immediately after saying farewell to "Aunt Flow," which is a ridiculous period euphemism my friend Paula (and no one else) used to say, the scale read 192.9!!! Hells freakin' bells! My weight has been fluctuating in the 192-195 range ever since, but after quite the SNOW DAY, FAT DAY it's sitting on the higher end of that spectrum. SNOW DAY, FAT DAYs, for the record, involve eating as much of whatever you want in celebration of a wintry storm. Even without Brianna, my best SNOW DAY, FAT DAY comrade, I had a pretty successful SNOW DAY, FAT DAY. I won't bore you with another food diary entry, but lets just say I ate out three times yesterday. Naturally, Qdoba was one such restaurant destination... so Ms. Morgan, one of my greatest Pledge allies, don't think I'm still salty over the Qdoba thing... I never really had the right to be salty about it from the get go.
Wow. Having failed to blog since December 23rd, I have SO MUCH TO SAY! I apologize about all the rambling that has taken and will continue to take place. I suppose I should address the holidays, but I don't really have anything insightful to say about them. I ate pretty much whatever I wanted and hardly "held back" at all. During the Tjoflat Christmas celebration, I guess I was pretty successful in wedging myself in a corner where I couldn't escape every two seconds to get some of mother Ellen's famous sweetened puff corn or one of sister Liz's ridiculous Paula Dean chocolate chip cookie dough truffles... they were literally giant balls of cookie dough dunked in delicious chocolate. Liz, did I thank you for providing perhaps the most difficult diet temptation yet? Overall, I guess I was pretty successful in not drinking a whole lot over the holidays... except for maybe that one night in downtown Whitehall where things got a little crazy at the "S&M" bar... what happens in S&M, stays in S&M.
Despite the holidays, I've managed to lose roughly 27lbs since this whole quest began in August. For those of you not real gifted in the math department, I've 13lbs to lose in order to meet my 40lb April 28th goal!!! Anyway, people often ask me something along the lines of, "So what's your secret?" I almost always struggle to answer this damn question. First of all, when you were an incredibly gluttonous, lazy college kid, a few healthy changes can work wonders for you. Simply getting my ass of the couch to GAGAcise or rollerblade thrice a week has been huge for me. And drinking at least less frequently than a college kid has done wonders as well.
But if I could sum it all up, I guess knowing myself has been the real secret. Though I can't seem to learn this lesson, I know I cannot sit down with a tub of hummus and eat a reasonable portion of it. It's as simple as portioning a bit out and enjoying it in moderation. Also, some nights I know I cannot go to a bar and just have one drink. The solution is simple. I shan't put myself in that situation on this particular night. Some nights I know I'm incapable of even passing by a Qdoba without coveting some Mexican Gumbo and ultimately stopping in. Once again, a simple solution... take a different route home. So lets know and understand ourselves! Know the temptations you can and cannot resist, know your triggers and discover the root of your unhealthy habits. To me, it's no coincidence whatsoever that I've been capable of revolutionizing my health in the same year I've announced, acknowledged and celebrated my lifestyle. Having come out, I'm no longer seeking comfort in unhealthy habits like excessive eating and drinking (with the exception of a few SNOW DAY, FAT DAYs here and there). Here's to a 2012 dedicated to total health... of mind, body and spirit!
Speaking of the new year, lets talk resolutions! Mine are as follows (and in no order of importance): Complete The Pledge, floss, MEET GAGA and leave Madison no later than September. As for that final resolution, do cities exist where the lesbian circle isn't so freakishly small?! GAGA, I hope so.
A quick story to demonstrate how effectively I often put my foot in my mouth... In the work cafeteria the other day, I gazed longingly at a vat of mystery meat (sometimes that stuff appeals to me... GAGA knows why). I asked my coworker what he thought it was, and he responded, "I don't know. It's probably pork, and I don't eat that stuff." So, thinking he's just another one of my interesting coworkers who refuses to eat pork because its gross or because pigs are allegedly very intelligent and therefore more aware of their suffering (not my rationale here, people) I say, "Oh, you're one of those, aren't you?" To which this coworker responds, "A Jew? Yes." Bahahaha thank GAGA this particular coworker has a great sense of humor...
Yet another tangent... The bathroom wall just told me, "Both sex outside of marriage and homosexuality are sins in God's sight." Yeah, and so are my SNOW DAY, FAT DAYs. As one of my oh-so-wise study abroad professors said while watching me dish copious amounts of Chef Bruno's homemade lasagna onto my plate, "GLUTTONY. Gluttony is in the third ring of Dante's inferno."
Here's hoping your 2011 was filled with as many positive experiences with wonderful friends and family as was mine! If the world indeed ends in December of this year, I will have at least spent 23 amazing years in the presence of some truly wonderful people. That, and won't have to pay back my student loans ;)
“No matter who you are, no matter what you did, no matter where you've come from, you can always change, become a better version of yourself.” - Madonna
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Friday, December 23, 2011
I am the 15%...right?!
I fear enduring the holiday season and resisting all of its temptatations will be even harder than anticipated. I got a little taste of what's to come last weekend when I travelled to the 715 to celebrate my friend Paul's college graduation as well as my cousin Hannah's. All I did was gather with friends and eat... and eat... and eat. I even got in the habit of pre-gaming my meals with entirely seperate meals. On Friday night, for instance, I was riding with Paul's parents to Eau Claire and we decided to stop at the Norske Nook to pick up a pie. We had every intention of just grabbing the "Pie of the Month" and continuing our trek to Eau Claire, but upon seeing the pie-rotator Paul's father insisted we have some pie then and there! And once we discovered they were serving up Friday fish fry, our pie-stop quickly turned into an all out meal. While we all knew Paul would be cooking us a lovely dinner, that certainly didn't stop Paul's dad from ordering the fish-fry platter nor did it stop me from scarfing down the fish wrap (a relatively healthy option were the lefse not slathered in butter). I was at least wise enough to hold off on pie, but only because I was saving myself for the giant piece of lingonberry apple swimming in ice cream I'd have later. But hey, if you're going to "cheat," do it right... and when it comes to pie, ain't nothing more "right" than Norske Nook! And lingonberry apple that!
Food is my drug and that was just the beginning of a long bender of a weekend! I continued my excessive eating on Saturday, when we dined at the Green Mill following Paul's graduation ceremony. Rather than get their delicious "Il Primo" pizza topped with various meats and gorgonzola, I opted for a raspberry grilled chicken salad...still topped with gorgonzola! Nevertheless, I was pleased with this moment of strength. This "strength," however, wouldn't last long. I literally left the Green Mill and went straight to Randy's Family Restaurant, home of the most fabulous pancakes on Earth. So could I resist getting a pancake for dessert?! At a restaurant I very rarely get to go to?! Absolutely not. I had one of Randy's famous pancakes with a delicious cup (or 5) of coffee. And the best part of lunch #2?! The company! I sat with my best friends Katie and Tiffany, and we chatted for almost two hours while waitress Goldie kept the coffee coming! There's nothing quite like good food, coffee and conversation. Something, something about this place.
There would be more good eatin' in store for Saturday. From Eau Claire, my lovely mother and I headed to River Falls for my cousin Hannah's senior vocal recital. By this time I was feeling drunk. The combination of excessive food and especially coffee had me feeling as though I'd gulped one too many Bud Lite Limes... you know that stage of drunk where the pleasant buzz suddenly has you feeling dizzy?! Yup, that's what too much coffee and a lack of healthy food will now do to me. So I got a LifeWater and an apple, and I started feeling better. When we arrived in River Falls, I was ready to inhale some delicious pizza...nevermind the fact I'd just recovered from my food-hangover of sorts. I still felt fine after downing a few pieces of pizza, and by the time the amazing recital was over I was ready for an array of Christmas goodies! The reception offered carmelized crackers, shortbread cookies, chocolate cherry cookies and Subway-like M&M cookies, to name a few! Why start minding my caloric intake then?! Neeldess to say, I didn't and I wouldn't later that night when we got back to Whitehall. In my beautifully festive childhood home, there were 12 dozen peanut butter blossom cookies and homemade chex-mix waiting for me. I was able to eat just one cookie (as well as the sample of dough Mom saved for me) and a fairly reasonable portion of chex-mix... impressive, right?!
I wish the weekend of glutony stopped there... but I would eat a City Cafe omelette the next day, more Norske Nook pie and some of Jeff Hauser's most delicious grill creations. Sunday night would conclude over a couple drinks and some much needed karaoke with my best friends Paul, Monique and Shane. If only I could stop my rambling food diary there... but I would return to Randy's Family Restaurant on Monday morning, where I decided whole wheat french toast was a healthy option. GAGA almighty, the food diary finally stops there! You're welcome.
As you all know, I've been preaching a lot lately about not "perseverating" over the food and weight thing. Well, after reading an entirely too detailed and lengthy exerpt from my food diary, which I don't actually keep, you and I both know not perseverating is easier said than done. I'd like to think I don't obsess over the "cheating" I do, but my ability to recite everything I'd eaten this past weekend proves otherwise. This is just another challenge in healthy eating...not obsessing. I simply need to remember that this health revolution is about feeling good about myself. Therefore, it is counterproductive when I obsess and feel bad about unhealthy food consumption. Forward our motto!
Here's to a joyous holiday weekend! Please, remember the Pledge of Glory's stance on Thanksgiving when you do your holiday eating... if eating food you love with the people you love makes you happy, so be it! While easier said than done, let's not obsess over all the food we "shouldn't have" eaten this holiday season. But here's hoping I can at least stop myself before getting food-wasted!
"My body may be a work-in-progress, but there is nothing wrong with my soul." -- Bree Osbourne (a pre-operative male-to-female transsexual played by Felicity Huffman in the 2005 film Transamerica)
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Food is my drug and that was just the beginning of a long bender of a weekend! I continued my excessive eating on Saturday, when we dined at the Green Mill following Paul's graduation ceremony. Rather than get their delicious "Il Primo" pizza topped with various meats and gorgonzola, I opted for a raspberry grilled chicken salad...still topped with gorgonzola! Nevertheless, I was pleased with this moment of strength. This "strength," however, wouldn't last long. I literally left the Green Mill and went straight to Randy's Family Restaurant, home of the most fabulous pancakes on Earth. So could I resist getting a pancake for dessert?! At a restaurant I very rarely get to go to?! Absolutely not. I had one of Randy's famous pancakes with a delicious cup (or 5) of coffee. And the best part of lunch #2?! The company! I sat with my best friends Katie and Tiffany, and we chatted for almost two hours while waitress Goldie kept the coffee coming! There's nothing quite like good food, coffee and conversation. Something, something about this place.
There would be more good eatin' in store for Saturday. From Eau Claire, my lovely mother and I headed to River Falls for my cousin Hannah's senior vocal recital. By this time I was feeling drunk. The combination of excessive food and especially coffee had me feeling as though I'd gulped one too many Bud Lite Limes... you know that stage of drunk where the pleasant buzz suddenly has you feeling dizzy?! Yup, that's what too much coffee and a lack of healthy food will now do to me. So I got a LifeWater and an apple, and I started feeling better. When we arrived in River Falls, I was ready to inhale some delicious pizza...nevermind the fact I'd just recovered from my food-hangover of sorts. I still felt fine after downing a few pieces of pizza, and by the time the amazing recital was over I was ready for an array of Christmas goodies! The reception offered carmelized crackers, shortbread cookies, chocolate cherry cookies and Subway-like M&M cookies, to name a few! Why start minding my caloric intake then?! Neeldess to say, I didn't and I wouldn't later that night when we got back to Whitehall. In my beautifully festive childhood home, there were 12 dozen peanut butter blossom cookies and homemade chex-mix waiting for me. I was able to eat just one cookie (as well as the sample of dough Mom saved for me) and a fairly reasonable portion of chex-mix... impressive, right?!
I wish the weekend of glutony stopped there... but I would eat a City Cafe omelette the next day, more Norske Nook pie and some of Jeff Hauser's most delicious grill creations. Sunday night would conclude over a couple drinks and some much needed karaoke with my best friends Paul, Monique and Shane. If only I could stop my rambling food diary there... but I would return to Randy's Family Restaurant on Monday morning, where I decided whole wheat french toast was a healthy option. GAGA almighty, the food diary finally stops there! You're welcome.
As you all know, I've been preaching a lot lately about not "perseverating" over the food and weight thing. Well, after reading an entirely too detailed and lengthy exerpt from my food diary, which I don't actually keep, you and I both know not perseverating is easier said than done. I'd like to think I don't obsess over the "cheating" I do, but my ability to recite everything I'd eaten this past weekend proves otherwise. This is just another challenge in healthy eating...not obsessing. I simply need to remember that this health revolution is about feeling good about myself. Therefore, it is counterproductive when I obsess and feel bad about unhealthy food consumption. Forward our motto!
Here's to a joyous holiday weekend! Please, remember the Pledge of Glory's stance on Thanksgiving when you do your holiday eating... if eating food you love with the people you love makes you happy, so be it! While easier said than done, let's not obsess over all the food we "shouldn't have" eaten this holiday season. But here's hoping I can at least stop myself before getting food-wasted!
"My body may be a work-in-progress, but there is nothing wrong with my soul." -- Bree Osbourne (a pre-operative male-to-female transsexual played by Felicity Huffman in the 2005 film Transamerica)
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Let's hear it for the boys!
Christmas is but 10 days away, and I've never had such lack luster holiday spirit. Maybe it's the lack of snow on the ground... maybe it's the lack of gift-buying money in my wallet... or maybe it's that damn radio commericial that keeps telling me "85% of people gain weight over the holidays." Nothing screams happy holidays like constant fear of destroying four and a half months of weight loss... I'm now weighing in between 196.1 and 198.8 lbs, and I'll be damned if I sabotage that progress (total loss ranging from 22.8 to 25.5lbs)! And as for that holiday weight-gain statistic (well, statistics in general), my friend Michelle once told me 70% of statistics are inaccurate.
Oh, lord. The woman on this week's episode of What Not to Wear is selfconscious about her height. She said, "I'm already 5'10" or 5'11," so heels put me over 6' and I feel freakish." If being 6' tall makes me freakish, just call me and all the fabulously large people in my life a pile of mutants! Why would anyone ever feel insecure about being long, lean and all together superior to others? Sure, we tall people will allegedly live shorter lives (yet another likely inaccurate statistic), but I find this to be a trade-off for the exceptional quality of our tall-lives. But in all seriousness, this What Not to Wear participant is just another example of a woman unhappy with her body... even women who aren't selfconscious about their weight will find some physical feature to perseverate over. It's exhausting, really.
I also find my constant preaching about women and "our" issues quite exhausting (as I'm sure y'all do). I've realized that in my women's rights "crusade" I've neglected the issues and injustices relating to other groups of people and particularly men. Many issues aren't really specific to men or women... last Pledge I said that men don't perseverate over the weight thing like women. What I should have said is that men aren't likely to do so as frequently. But how can I actually know such a thing? When it comes to weight and body image, sure, men aren't likely to talk about such things. Struggling with weight, perhaps like being a victim of sexual assault (on a much different, yet somehow similar level), is largely considered a "female thing." While men suffer from similar matters, they're proably too ashamed to talk about their experiences. Men are taught that to struggle with and even talk about such matters is emasculating. While men may may struggle with weight and body dysmorphia less frequently than women, it seems especially difficult as they feel they can't talk about it. Not that it's an easy thing for women to talk about, but at least our femininity isn't put into question.
In an effort to quit preaching in circles, let's talk about the exceptional men in my life! Just as I constantly ramble about women's issues and ignore how these same matters might affect men, I often praise the strong women in my life and fail to salute the inspiring men around me. So here's to my gay-boyfriends! You know who you are, and I hope you also know how much I appreciate your love, support and thoughtfulness. And let us not forget the exceptional straight men in my life... here's to those of you who remind me that you're not all bad. And a very special shout-out to my father -- a man who at one time lived with four very strong women and ultimately helped raise three independent daughters.
You're probably wondering when I started taking myself and this damn blog so seriously... maybe now that I'm no longer eating like a 12-year-old (spaghetti, pizza-bagels, PB&Js, mac n' cheese, etc.) I'm acting less like one. Hahaha not likely! Speaking of my inner child, she's curious about the meaning of some Christmas carols. Let's talk "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause." Is Santa in this song actually the kid's dad?! And has every body always known this?! I sure as hell haven't. How about "Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer"... Grandpa clearly killed grandma and is trying to blame Santa, right?! "You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa we believe!"
Well, here's hoping my weekend trip to the 715 will get me in the Christmas spirit! I can only imagine the goodies that await me... peanut butter blosoms, carmel puff corn, almond-bark pretzels, and so on and so on. Here's to that 15% of us who won't put on any holiday pounds!
While World AIDS Day was observed over two weeks ago (December 1st), I would like to pay my belated respects in quoting the late Ryan White. White, having been expelled from his middle school because of his infection, was somewhat of an American poster child for HIV/AIDS in the 80s. While White was only given six months to live, he lived five years longer than anticipated. White is also the first male I have chosen to conclude The Pledge of Glory.
"AIDS can destroy a family if you let it, but luckily for my sister and me, Mom taught us to keep going. Don't give up, be proud of who you are and never feel sorry for yourself." -- Ryan White
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
Oh, lord. The woman on this week's episode of What Not to Wear is selfconscious about her height. She said, "I'm already 5'10" or 5'11," so heels put me over 6' and I feel freakish." If being 6' tall makes me freakish, just call me and all the fabulously large people in my life a pile of mutants! Why would anyone ever feel insecure about being long, lean and all together superior to others? Sure, we tall people will allegedly live shorter lives (yet another likely inaccurate statistic), but I find this to be a trade-off for the exceptional quality of our tall-lives. But in all seriousness, this What Not to Wear participant is just another example of a woman unhappy with her body... even women who aren't selfconscious about their weight will find some physical feature to perseverate over. It's exhausting, really.
I also find my constant preaching about women and "our" issues quite exhausting (as I'm sure y'all do). I've realized that in my women's rights "crusade" I've neglected the issues and injustices relating to other groups of people and particularly men. Many issues aren't really specific to men or women... last Pledge I said that men don't perseverate over the weight thing like women. What I should have said is that men aren't likely to do so as frequently. But how can I actually know such a thing? When it comes to weight and body image, sure, men aren't likely to talk about such things. Struggling with weight, perhaps like being a victim of sexual assault (on a much different, yet somehow similar level), is largely considered a "female thing." While men suffer from similar matters, they're proably too ashamed to talk about their experiences. Men are taught that to struggle with and even talk about such matters is emasculating. While men may may struggle with weight and body dysmorphia less frequently than women, it seems especially difficult as they feel they can't talk about it. Not that it's an easy thing for women to talk about, but at least our femininity isn't put into question.
In an effort to quit preaching in circles, let's talk about the exceptional men in my life! Just as I constantly ramble about women's issues and ignore how these same matters might affect men, I often praise the strong women in my life and fail to salute the inspiring men around me. So here's to my gay-boyfriends! You know who you are, and I hope you also know how much I appreciate your love, support and thoughtfulness. And let us not forget the exceptional straight men in my life... here's to those of you who remind me that you're not all bad. And a very special shout-out to my father -- a man who at one time lived with four very strong women and ultimately helped raise three independent daughters.
You're probably wondering when I started taking myself and this damn blog so seriously... maybe now that I'm no longer eating like a 12-year-old (spaghetti, pizza-bagels, PB&Js, mac n' cheese, etc.) I'm acting less like one. Hahaha not likely! Speaking of my inner child, she's curious about the meaning of some Christmas carols. Let's talk "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause." Is Santa in this song actually the kid's dad?! And has every body always known this?! I sure as hell haven't. How about "Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer"... Grandpa clearly killed grandma and is trying to blame Santa, right?! "You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa we believe!"
Well, here's hoping my weekend trip to the 715 will get me in the Christmas spirit! I can only imagine the goodies that await me... peanut butter blosoms, carmel puff corn, almond-bark pretzels, and so on and so on. Here's to that 15% of us who won't put on any holiday pounds!
While World AIDS Day was observed over two weeks ago (December 1st), I would like to pay my belated respects in quoting the late Ryan White. White, having been expelled from his middle school because of his infection, was somewhat of an American poster child for HIV/AIDS in the 80s. While White was only given six months to live, he lived five years longer than anticipated. White is also the first male I have chosen to conclude The Pledge of Glory.
"AIDS can destroy a family if you let it, but luckily for my sister and me, Mom taught us to keep going. Don't give up, be proud of who you are and never feel sorry for yourself." -- Ryan White
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
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