Starting Over.

Today, I weigh 250.6 pounds.

There, I said it. The number---that dreaded, awful, huge number---that plagues my thoughts on a daily basis. It has been written out in bold print for the world to see. I am ashamed, I am mortified, I am disgusted.

But why? Why am I ashamed to share that number? Why does it make my palms sweat, and my knees weak, to think that people...not just my husband, but people I know...will see that number and think "Crap. She IS fat."

It will not change how much my best friend loves me. It will not change the wonderful relationship I have with my parents. It will not cause people to un-friend me on Facebook, or unsubscribe from my blog (I hope.) 

That number---250.6---is just that. A number. It is not who I am. I will not be defined by that number. I will not allow myself to be defined by my weight, just like I won't let myself be defined by my infertility, or my Southern heritage, or my liberal politics. I won't allow myself to be typecast, pigeonholed, or labeled. Because I am more than the sum of my parts. I am more than a fat girl, a childless mother, a tree-hugging hippie. I am more that the definitions society wants to place on me as part of its stereotypes. 

There have been obstacles in my path so far--ones that I should have scaled over or navigated around--that stopped me in my tracks. So now it's time to pick myself up, and dust myself off, and figure out just why I keep falling down to begin with. 

I may need a band aid over to cover my scraped ego. I may even need a kiss and a hug and a pat on the head.

But I will continue my journey, even if I have to tread through the brambles in order to find my path.

Who cares if I have to start over? Who cares if I've done it a million times before, only to fail?  This time might just be the time that it all makes a difference. So I'll get up in the mornings and go to the gym that we haven't visited in two weeks. I'll count my calories and eat more vegetables and avoid my trigger foods. It's back to the grind, back to the full time job that is trying to lose weight. I will tell myself that this 2 week layover was a setback, not failure. And I will move on. To a healthier, happier, thinner me.

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Abby's Weight Loss Journey, Day One, is today.

Our Battle With The Bulge Begins With My Personal Battle With The Alarm Clock

Do you know how many muscle groups it takes to lift a hair dryer, and then blow dry one's hair?

Almost as many as it takes to successfully remove clothing, step into the shower, and bathe.

Of course, I was never really aware of this until recently. You see, Brian and I joined a gym.

It's a small little place, with tons of equipment packed into it. Each elliptical and treadmill has its own television, which works out well for those that want to watch ESPN (Brian) or Jerry Springer (the chick next to me the other day) while they sweat away the pounds.

Me? I'm an iPod girl. All the way. Put some tunes in my ears and I'm ready to go. (Especially if it's the New Kids on the Block.)

We've been at it for a little over a week now. For the first few days, we were going in the evenings after work, just to get the feel of the place and the people who worked there. But as we pulled into a packed parking lot last Wednesday afternoon, we decided that it might be better to try the early mornings before work, in hopes that the line for the water fountain wouldn't be three people deep at any given time.

And it works. Arriving at the gym before 7:00 a.m. ensures us side-by-side training equipment for the duration of our stay.

However, when the alarm clock rings in the wee hours of the morning, we inevitably have a conversation that goes something like this:

Brian wakes gracefully, for the most part. It takes him a few minutes to get the brain engines revved, but once they are, he's up and pleasant and ready to face the day.

Me?

I SUCK at getting up early. Always have, and probably always will. I'm usually cranky in the mornings, I rarely say more than five words at a time, and if you were the one who woke me, then you should rue the day you were born. I'm not a nice morning person. Which is why, when Brian first suggested getting up early for morning workouts, I may or may not have growled at him.

But, believe it or not, it seems to be working. I'm awake and chipper (and sore) by the time we leave the gym. I have more energy throughout the day. And I'm hoping to start racking up some serious pounds lost soon.

Just promise me you'll pray for Brian, y'all. Because he's in charge of waking me each morning. Poor guy.

Wait For Us, Band Wagon!!

Guess who's jumping on the "Let's Lose Weight Because It's The New Year And We're Really Fat" band wagon!

If you guessed Team Abby Gabs, then you'd be 100% right!!

Of course, we're not doing it just because it's January. Yes, everybody else is bustling to their local 24-hour gymnasiums, buying stock in fad diet books, and venturing out in the wee hours to buy bigger stretchy pants for their afternoon jogs. But that's not the reason we're doing it.

Between the two of us, Brian and I definitely need to lose some weight. It seems there's some sort of mathematical equation that involves increasing ages, decreasing activity levels, and expanding waist lines. 

Who knew?

(Other than Oprah, that guy on the Biggest Loser, and Richard Simmons?)

At any rate, we've got our work cut out for us. The bad news? We've got at least 125 pounds to lose between the two of us. And that's a low-ball number.

The good news? (Fortunately, there's more good news than bad.) Brian is home 4 days a week now, so we actually have time to dedicate to fitness. And, better than that, he's totally on board with the whole thing. In fact, he's the one really driving us to start ASAP. (Had it not been for the monkey flu of death, we would have started at the 'official' beginning of the year. Whatever that means.)

Brian is so keen, he even posted the following on Facebook over the weekend:

(It's ok. You can gag over my response. We tend to be way mushier than most couples, both in real life and on social media websites. We can't help it---we strive to annoy people with our ooey-gooey-ness.)

I'm not going to lie, when I threw in the towel in 2012, there were several different reasons for it, none of them very good ones. The main reason, I'm ashamed to admit, was my own lack of conviction. Pair that with several extenuating circumstances (being dumped unceremoniously by someone I considered a dear friend, stress over Brian's last semester of nursing school, my overall knack for excellent laziness, and the temptation of food-oh-so-glorious-food) and what little bit of success I had early last year has been all but erased.

So, we're starting 2013 with a new slate. The fridge has been emptied of all junk food and refilled with fruit, lean meats, and plenty of vegetables. Our schedules are being created around planned exercise excursions. We plan on joining a local gym in the next several weeks so that we have somewhere to go for our workouts. (Because no matter what they tell you, as convenient as working out at home can be, it's way too easy for us Lazy Pants People to come up with an excuse not to do it.)

Our only rules going into this new phase of our lives? 

1) To concentrate on how we feel physically, and how our clothes fit, and how much energy we have--NOT a number on a scale.
2) To help each other through daily cravings, and allow ourselves to cave every now and then, for the sake of our own sanity.
3)To support each other completely, no matter what.

That's our plan for now. I'm sure you'll hear about it on the blog from time to time. And maybe, just maybe, if I'm a perfect wife, I can convince Brian to do a video blog with me to talk about our journey.

But I'm not making any promises, people. He's not shy, but he's not necessarily ready for his close-up yet either, Mr. Demille. 

My Sad, Chubby, Crumb-y Truth

Remember when I was all like "Watch me, readers, I'm losing weight at LIGHTNING SPEED!!!" Remember when I was posting blogs about jogging and eating healthy and finding my inner athlete? Well, I realized yesterday, as I polished off an entire bag of Chex Mix, that there's a good chance I hadn't mentioned how far off track I've gotten in the past few months.

See, first there was summer. Then there was kidney stones and injuries and vacations and road trips and general time-wasting. And now there's just...boredom and laziness, compiled with an ever-expanding waistline and too-tight jeans.

Go me.

And so, my sad, crumby truth is that I've spent the last 4 months regaining more than half of the weight I managed to lose at the beginning of the year.

It started off with little things: a teaspoon of sugar on my multi-grain Cheerios, a diet soda with lunch, a homemade pizza with extra cheese. But you know what they say....trigger foods create a dieter's worst nightmare. I went from occasional treats to constant cravings. From eating out twice a month to eating out twice a week. From a random diet soda on a random afternoon to having a 12-pack of Pepsi in my fridge.

It's a slippery slope, people.

I'm not the only one who's suffered from my lack-of-will-power, either. If I put a green leafy salad with simple grilled chicken in front of my husband, he will eat it with gusto. If I put a huge grilled steak with a twice-baked potato slathered in sour cream and cheese in front of my husband, he will eat it with an equal amount of gusto. And when I say, "Babe, I'm craving chocolate," he doesn't just come home with a candy bar. He comes home with OPTIONS: ice cream, miniature Reese cups and a Paula Deen double-chocolate pound cake.

It's true. He loves me.

But we rarely acknowledge the growing tummies that separate us when we hug.

I think about starting over at least 100 times a day. Each time I look in the mirror, each time I struggle to button my jeans, each time my knee cracks when I heft myself off of the couch. And then I'm faced with taking the actual steps---tossing out the junk food, making that first grocery list, digging out my calorie counting apps and notebooks---and I totally stall out. I just don't have the energy.

Instead I'm all like:

"But Abby, you'd have the energy if you'd start working out again!"

Yeah, yeah. I already know that. In fact, I know a LOT about weight loss.

I know what it takes to lose weight. I know the math. I know the foods I should avoid. I know how many calories I have to burn each day. I know the proper form for a push-up. I know running is harder on the joints, but better for the burn, than time spent on an elliptical. I know that "low-fat" options aren't always better than regular fat options in moderation. I know the first step is just doing something about it instead of complaining with no action.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I KNOW!!!

What I don't know is why I keep failing. Why I'd rather put on my pajamas and lay on the couch than run a lap around my neighborhood. I don't know why I lose 30 or 35 pounds, only to give up just when I'm starting to really get a good head of steam going. I don't know why I give up. I just do.

So now begins the tedious task of psyching myself up to do it all over again. I have to convince myself that it's worth it. That I'm worth it. I have to try and forget the achy muscles, sore calves, and blistered feet, and instead try and focus on better sleep, thinner thighs, more energy. I need to jump-start my life.

Got any jumper cables I can borrow?

Abby Gabs News: A Video Blog

While watching the news with my husband the other day, a question popped into my head. I turned to him, and the following conversation ensued.


Abby: Do you think they teach the newscasters how to talk like that in school?
Brian: I dunno. Maybe.
A: Like...is there a text book? 
B: Guest speakers, maybe?
A: *In bad newscaster voice* "Today in class we will teach you how to use the inflection of your voice to make your point."
B: You should blog about it.


So I did. In video blog form. Enjoy.

Can't see the video? Point your browser here: http://youtu.be/eGafzYC4dTw

An Afternoon Jog

Thunder crashes above me as I shut my front door. I glance at my watch, and up at the clouds, and determine that I've got just enough time to finish my run before the worst hits. I reset my heart rate monitor, allow it to capture the information it needs, and set off at a brisk walk. 

The air smells heavy. I notice the honeysuckle beginning to bloom, catch the sight of light lavender wisteria, too. Spring is here, and I want to soak up every minute.

The voice from my phone, my virtual coach, tells me to begin to increase my pace. I take a deep breath, fill my lungs with air, and then start to run. My feet slap the pavement at an even tempo. I concentrate on lengthening my strides, landing on the balls of my feet, keeping my head up and my breathing even. Four in, four out, four in, four out. The rhythm is still new to me, yet I revel in its comfort.

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A flash of blue out of the corner of my eye and I look over just in time to see a blue jay land on a low tree limb. He watches me jog by, then flits off into the woods, searching for shelter from the coming storm. Just as he disappears into the green, a bolt of lightning snakes across the sky. I hold my breath, count the seconds: 1, 2, 3, 4...CRASH. The storm is getting closer. And I've still got a mile to go.

I follow the instructions given to me by my pocket coach. Sweat begins to trickle down the back of my neck. My calves are beginning to strain in protest. My left foot feels like it's beginning to go to sleep. I have a slight cramp creeping up my right side. And still, I press on. I have to remind myself to breathe. Four in, four out, four in, four out. The flowers, the birds, the storm all melt into the background. It's just me, the pavement, the movement, and breathing.

As I round the corner, a fat raindrop lands on the ground in front of me. It soaks into the blacktop as I jog past. A few seconds later, another falls, this one smacking me square in the face. I wipe it away, check my heart rate, and pull out my phone to check my stats. Half a mile to go. And I decide to power through.

One or two raindrops turn to ten, twenty, hundreds. As the rain touches earth, the smell of green fills my lungs. I take off my glasses, shove them into my pocket, because covered in water they are useless to me. I lift my face to the sky, letting the rain wash over my hot skin, and a laugh escapes from my throat. In a moment, I am a child again, playing in the rain, and I delight in it. 

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It doesn't take long for the bottom to drop out. The rain pelts me in sheets. I cannot hear my pocket coach over the pounding of the heavy droplets onto the road and trees around me. My finish line is within sight, and I take a huge breath and sprint. My lungs scream for air, my calves weep with pain. As I duck beneath the awning over my front door, race complete, I feel exhausted, more-than-winded, sore. 

And absolutely fulfilled.

Another Weight Loss Video Blog

It's been awhile since I updated everyone, so here is the latest in the series of weight loss video blogs I'm calling "ARRRGH! An Abby Gabs Video Blog." Believe me, it will all make sense eventually. Enjoy.

Can't see the blog? Point your browser here ----> http://youtu.be/1duYx422N0I

I'm linking up again with Yeah Write. From what I understand, it's a little untraditional to submit a video blog for these linky parties. Oh well, I'm nothing if not a rebel. Make sure you stop by later in the week to vote for your 3 favorite blogs that are posted! (I won't judge you if you don't pick Abby Gabs. Much.)


**EDIT** Turns out, the song I had in my head had nothing to do with being frustrated. In fact, Offspring was singing about keeping things separated. What can I say? I think my lyrics are better.

Contradictions

Somewhere inside of me, there's an athlete begging to be released.


I can hear her screaming, banging her fists against the wall, chanting numbers at me as I crunch, crunch, crunch my way to a thinner waistline. I can feel her inside of my brain, pushing me to run farther, run faster, run longer, even when my lungs and my legs want to give out. I can feel her spirit as it leaps in excitement every time I lace up my cross trainers and strap on my heart rate monitor. 


She's within me. Somewhere.


When I reach for that second helping of starch, My Inner Athlete directs my spoon toward the roasted winter vegetables instead. She steadies my hand that sweetens my coffee every morning, speaks to me through nectarines at the grocery store, and steers me away from the cookies in the bakery. It's My Inner Athlete that causes my eyes to pop open an hour before my alarm is set to go off. She's right there, in my head, whispering "Take to the road, wake up your calf muscles, let's burn some calories before sunrise."

"It's hard to beat a person who never gives up."

I can feel her, slowly taking over my thought processes, sending me, the Fat Girl, into an emotional tailspin.


Each time I make the decision to put myself and my health first, the Fat Girl in me cries out. "You can't do this! It's too hard! You're just going to fail again!" She whines with every lunge, weeps with every squat, begs me to stop each time I increase the speed on the treadmill. She keeps me up at night, nagging me with sore muscles, taunting me with cravings for foods I don't need, waving my shortcomings in my face like so many flags.


Last night, I completed an entire Army PRT program. With support from Dana and guidance from Justin, I power jumped, dead lifted, and half jacked with the best of them. By the end of the conditioning drills, I felt faint. Exhausted. Nauseous. Sore. 


And inexplicably, utterly defeated. 


My Inner Athlete was nowhere to be seen. When I should have been singing my own praises, I was instead left drowning in self doubt. I climbed into my car, drove to the stop sign, put the car in park, and wept. The Fat Girl was singing in my head. "I told you it was too hard! You're too big for this! You can't keep up with trained athletes!"


I dialed my husband's cell phone, begged off grocery duty, turned my car toward home instead of the store. And halfway there, My Inner Athlete finally broke through, shouting over the din of the Fat Girl. "Are you seriously going to let some sore muscles stop you? You just completed a friggin' bootcamp workout. Why are you sobbing like a baby?? Get over yourself, woman! YOU'VE GOT THIS!!"


Her words broke through, and the tears stopped immediately. I slammed on the brakes, made an illegal U-turn and headed straight for that grocery store. Because if I could do V-squats and mountain climbers and 8-count pushups, I sure as hell could pick up some ground beef, zucchinis, creamer, and cat food.

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In that moment, the Fat girl shut up. In that moment, My Inner Athlete won.


One day soon, the Fat Girl will be gone forever. Because as I'm shedding pounds and inches, I'm also shedding my insecurities, my past, my fear, my failures, and my Fat Girl.


I may not be running marathons or even miles (yet) but I'm getting there. I'm getting stronger and stronger with each passing day. And every time I listen to My Inner Athlete, I make the right decision. For my family, for my husband, for my health. For me.

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Yet Another Weight Loss Blog

So, for those of you keeping tabs, you're well aware that I'm in the middle of a 3 month challenge to lose 10% of my body weight. I've been pretty diligent about updating you with my progress each and every weight in. 


This past Tuesday was our one month weigh-in. With each monthly weigh-in, we also measure (bust, waist, hips, arms and legs), and we participate in a fitness challenge (push-ups and crunches.) 


While I only managed to lose 1/2 a pound last week...

Sad face.

...I managed to post a HUGE number for inches lost in January!!!

Happy face!!!

I managed to lose 13.5 inches in 4 weeks!!!!!!!!!!





The fitness test went just as well. (Yet another reason to Woo Hoo with the best of them...) When we first started, way back on the 3rd of January, I could barely do 15 push-ups in a minute. And they were painful. And practically impossible. But yesterday, I not only DOUBLED my push-ups in a minute (30! Wo0!) I did the first 15 in under 30 seconds. HUGE improvement.  Combined with adding 10 more crunches to my total, the inches lost, and a combined weight loss of almost 6 pounds, I'm feeling AWESOME about how far I've come in a little under a month.


I am discovering so many advantages to working out and eating healthy. I'm feeling stronger, slimmer, and sexier every single day. I feel good about myself for the first time in decades awhile. I am sleeping better, and I have more energy. 


But the one perk I hadn't expected was how much better food would taste when I cut all the processed foods and refined sugars out of my diet. Once upon a time, I would have told you I was fat because I loved to eat, even though eating for me just meant shoveling as much food into my face as possible. But I'm enjoying food SO MUCH MORE now that I can actually TASTE it. Every nuance in a dish is appreciated, from flavor to texture to spice. 


For instance, I had a nectarine the other day that was flat out the most delicious thing I've ever had in my life. I had an affair with that nectarine. I licked the juice off of my arm and sucked it off my fingers. I made yummy noises that would have led some to believe there was some sexual activity happening in my kitchen. I enjoyed eating that nectarine so much that it was practically pornographic.


When I told Dana about my love affair with fruit, she laughed and said I should have recorded it for the blog. 


So I did.


Here's my short film entitled "For The Love of Fruit." Enjoy.






Because it's just not romance without a little Kenny G.


In short, I'm jazzed by my progress, and SO excited to see what's ahead on the weight loss path I've chosen. Dana has been so supportive, and together, I think we really can conquer the fat. 


Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a particularly fat and juicy apple waiting for me at the dining room table.


If you can't see the video, point your browser to: http://youtu.be/ioX6XobSFC4

Weigh-In Tuesday and a Soapbox Rant

Today I'd like to share with you another 1.4 pound weight loss!!!

(Source)

Well, thank you, Mr. President. :0)


I'm still feeling really good about my progress. Yes, there are things I could be doing better (eating more veggies comes to mind) but I've made huge strides these last few weeks to improve my health, and I'm feeling stronger and leaner every day!

That's my "Popeye" face.

I'm battling a little with what I'm calling "The Biggest Loser Mentality." If you've ever seen the show, you know that any given contestant can lose up to 15 pounds or more in one week. Every Tuesday, when I step on that scale knowing how good I feel and how much better I look, I'm always expecting to see a major difference in my weight from the week before. And when the scale only moves a pound or two, I feel disappointed.


Logically I know that a steady 2 pounds per week weight loss is ideal--not just because it's healthier, but it's easier to maintain over time.


But emotionally---I want that "HOLY FREAKIN' COW DID I REALLY JUST LOSE 14 POUNDS?!?!?" moment.

(Source)

But usually, after I think about it for awhile, and receive a pep-talk (usually accompanied by graphs and/or charts) from "trainer" and BFF, Dana, I immediately start feeling better about my progress.


So, with today's 1.4 loss, that brings my total weight loss to 

5.3 pounds! Woohoo!!!

Yay me!


So, while we're on the subject of weight loss and general healthiness, I'd like to dust off my soapbox for a minute and share my two cents on a current news story you may have heard about--namely, the Paula Deen controversy.


For those who haven't heard, Deen recently made a statement that she had been diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. She'd known about it for awhile before coming out to the public, and now has made a lucrative deal with the company that creates the meds she's taking for the illness. She has been publicly crucified by health organizations, media outlets, and even her own peers, for continuing to serve the same southern comfort foods on her show and in her restaurant, despite her diagnosis.

(source)

Celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain has been one of Paula's biggest critics from the very beginning. When asked his opinion about Paula's recent news, he responded, "When your signature dish is hamburger in between a doughnut, and you've been cheerfully selling this stuff knowing all along that you've got Type 2 diabetes ... it's in bad taste if nothing else."


Let me say this: I've been a big Paula Deen Fan for many years. I own at least 4 of her cookbooks. I have met her and her husband, Michael. And I have dined in her restaurant. One of my favorite possessions is my Paula Deen apron, which reads "The Lady Can Cook."

However, that I am a bonafide Paula Deen fan has absolutely no bearings on how I felt when I first heard about this story. 

My first reaction was empathy for her family. Both of my parents also have Type 2 Diabetes, and I know the struggle that it is to completely overhaul your entire lifestyle in the name of health. It's difficult both emotionally and physically (especially when your Mom craves chocolate like mine does.)

After that initial wave of empathy, though, I was left feeling angry. Angry for Paula that she has become the media's poster child for "Fat Southern Woman with Diabetes." Angry that she's being touted as irresponsible because she hasn't changed the recipes featured on her show. 

Angry that she's being held responsible for an entire nation's eating habits.

If you've ever seen Paula's show, you know that she makes comfort food. There's no questioning the fact that she uses full fat ingredients, ranging from butter to sour cream, in practically every dish she serves. Do I have her cookbooks? Yes. Do I cook from them every single night? No. Why? Because I know that eating like that leads to weight gain, and that weight gain leads to other health problems. Like Type 2 Diabetes.

I know that chowing down on Paula's sinful Lemon Cake is an indulgence. Just like a big slice of pizza, an even bigger cheese burger, or a vat of ice cream. It's a "once in awhile" thing, not an every day thing. Everything in moderation--that's the key.

I liken it to blaming McDonald's for America's obesity problem. Here's the thing, people: McDonald's serves what sells. Fatty french fries, greasy burgers, "chicken" nuggets--that's what people want when they hit the drive-thru.

I use the word "chicken" lightly, because what you're really getting is breaded, deep fried pink goo:

(source)

How many boxes of chicken nuggets do you think McDonald's would sell if they had THAT picture on the box? 

How does this relate to the Paula Deen controversy? Simply this: if you've been remotely educated in the human body, you know that you can't eat rich, creamy, fattening foods every day of your life without suffering the consequences. Some people, including Paula (and myself up until about 3 weeks ago) choose to take their chances with those consequences. Punishing her by humiliating her publicly and using her as a scapegoat isn't going to end the obesity epidemic in our country. 

But education, honesty, and individual responsiblity might.

Paula continued with her show, and her restaurant, and her recipes, not because she wants to harm the public, but because it is her national identity. She became famous for her southern style of cooking. To expect her to immediately change her MO because of her own personal (private) health concerns would be like asking the CEO of McDonald's to take chicken nuggets off the menu because of the above picture that was leaked to the media.

As long as we're buying, they're playing, people. And as long as we continue to place the blame on others, rather than with ourselves, America is destined to be fat forever.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

I wish Paula Deen nothing but the best in her battle against diabetes. I'm sure that, over the course of the next few years, we'll see a big change in how she conducts her show. I'll keep watching, enjoying her adorable on-screen personality, and saving that Stick to Your Teeth Chocolate cookie recipe for a special occasion.

As for the McDonald's reference, the same information could be given about most every fast food restaurant in the world. I just chose McDonald's for this blog because of the photo above, which came through my Facebook news feed a few days ago. It seemed relevant to this story, so I shared it. I like McDonald's french fries as much as the next guy, but I'm dedicated to spending my money where it best influences my new healthy lifestyle. And McDonald's ain't that place.

Things I'm Loving: The Weight Loss Edition

I swore I wasn't going to make this blog all about weight loss. In truth, I don't intend to. But this week, my focus seems to be on hand weights and skater's squats and calorie intake. It's stunting my creativity. 


BUT, it's also shrinking my arse. So that's a good thing.


I had two thoughts while in the shower this morning. One--I really need to stop being a slacker and write a blog today. And Two--What my readers REALLY need is a LIST blog. So, I'm sharing with you my five favorite things that are keeping me on my toes on this weight loss journey.

Abby's Top Five Weight Loss Tools 

(Including a Few That Might Surprise You)

Number one: My Sportline Heart Rate Monitor

I normally put the most important item at the bottom of the list. But, in the event that you get bored with my weight loss blog, I wanted to get this one in first. This little beauty has made exercise fun again:

Ah, the magic of technology. You see, as I'm working out, the black band (which secures around your chest) keeps track of my heart rate. It sends the information to the adorable little watch on my wrist, so I can keep track of a whole slew of different bits of information. For instance: it will tell me how many calories I'm burning. It will tell me if I'm in the "zone" that I want to be with my heart rate. There's even a handy-dandy stop watch feature that's great for drills. (PS: The watch tells time, too. Ya know...it's all "watch" like that way.)

Now, my particular HAM was purchased at our local Dick's Sporting Goods, and happened to be on sale for around $50. There's a myriad of different products out there that do the same thing, varying in price range from $25 to $250. I say, look for the item that has the features you'll use most. Mine is very simple, easy to use, and tells me everything I need to know without getting all....mathematical or scientifical. 

And let me tell you, readers. There is nothing more satisfying than lying in a pool of your own sweat at the end of a workout, and seeing a HUGE number of calories burned. It makes the throbbing in your hamstrings so worth the pain and suffering.

Number two: Spark People--the awesomest website EVER (Except mine.)

If you haven't heard about SparkPeople.com yet, I'm thrilled to be able to share it with you. Spark is a website dedicated to fitness and healthy living. Here you'll find countless tools to help you with your weight loss program. My favorite features? The Trackers.

Before I talk about the Nutrition Tracker, let me tell you a bit about the others first. With the Fitness Tracker, I can keep up with what workouts I do every day. My favorite part---I can create my OWN workouts and, using my handy dandy heart rate monitor, tell my tracker just how many calories I burned during that workout. The Weight Tracker is pretty self-explanatory--you keep track of your weight and measurements here. Each time you do, Spark generates a series of graphs to show you how much you've progressed since joining. (For those of us who are visual learners, this feature will make you dance in your computer chair.)

Now, the Nutrition Tracker. It. Is. Awesome. You can either allow Spark to create a meal plan for you, OR you can just track what you eat each day on your own. Spark will give you an "allowance" based on your height, weight, and activity level, but it's up to you to keep track of what you eat in a day.

It's SO easy to use it's practically idiot proof. Which is good for me. Because I suck at tracking calories. And here's even MORE good news---there's an app for your phone, too! So now you can track your calories when you're away from your computer, too! Praise Smart Phones!


Oh, and one more awesome thing about Spark....SparkRecipes.com. In a nutshell, here you'll find a gazillion and one recipes--some entered by dieters, others by Spark's dietitians--to keep your meal plan delicious. You can also upload your favorite recipes to find out the nutritional values. Yes. Yes, I say.




Number three: My Crockpot
Sound like a weird weight loss tool to you? It's not. See, I workout with Dana at least three times in a week. Due to our work schedules, we usually don't get done before seven p.m. And believe me when I say, the LAST thing I want to do after burning 750 calories running sprints on the elliptical is COOK. Enter my handy dandy crock pot.

These things are so versatile, people. Seriously. I can make a hearty beef stew, an easy Asian pork tenderloin, or a delicious chicken and black bean filling for tacos. And most of these recipes are simply mix, dump, set it and forget it. (And yes, all those recipes are from my SparkRecipes cookbook.)


It's just another awesome thing to finish a workout and know that I'll have a hot, yummy meal waiting for me when I get home. All without having to cook it, and clean up, when my muscles are screaming "MOMMY!"




Number four: My Cute And Very Pink Water Bottle
It may not be a struggle for you, but for me, remembering to drink enough water in a day is a challenge. I tend to only drink when I'm thirsty, and I'm learning quickly that not staying hydrated throughout the day makes staying hydrated during a workout that much harder. So, I picked up a few different water bottles at my local sports store, and it seems to be helping. 

Especially since it's Rainbow Brite pink.


I mean...that's kind of hard to miss sitting on your desk. Am I right?


Number five: Multicolored Tabbies
I can hear you saying, "WHAAAA??" How can an organizational tool found at Staples make losing weight any easier? I'll tell you how, readers. It allows me to keep reading all my favorite foodie magazines AND keep track of the recipes I want to keep. Behold.

Now, I can drool over Rachael Ray's slightly scandalous stuffed cheeseburgers, but only mark her super-light minestrone stoup. That way, when I'm flipping back through after that initial read, I'm reminded of the healthy recipes I want to try, while avoiding those full fat pitfalls that await me hidden in the pages of the magazine. I don't have to cancel my subscription to Food Network Magazine--I just have to put a cute orange tabbie on the pages I want to peruse later.


Never underestimate the power of color coordinating, people. Seriously.


(Got any weight loss tricks or tips you'd like to share with me? Email me at abbyc613@gmail.com, or leave a comment below!!!)

How Abby Got Her Groove Back: A Video Blog

Week One weigh-in, introduction to my new trainer and workout regiment, and a little fun besides. Enjoy!





If you can't follow the link, point your browser here: http://youtu.be/gZgTMsO8jEo

It's a Brand New Shiny Year! (You Knew That Already...Right?)

On New Year's Day, my sister-in-law wished her friends and family a happy new year in a grand proclamation. It was so profound, in fact, I've decided to share it here.

She is wise. She is eloquent. She is eleven and a half. (She also writes a blog.)


Every person on the face of the planet faces a new year with goals/ambitions/resolutions. Call them what you will, we all hope to be better every January first. I am no different. Each year my goals grow less and less specific. My list-o'-resolutions has shrunken in size as my age has increased. I try to focus more on family, friends, fun. But this year, I want to be better at lots of things. I want to improve. I want to actually meet one of my goals...maybe even surpass it.


I mentioned in a previous post that my only new year's resolutions this year were to be nicer to myself, and to refrain from growing anymore kidney stones. Well, part of being nicer to me includes being nicer to my body. And that means eating better, being more active, and being smarter about food.


You guessed it, readers. I'm joining the cattle call of 66% of Americans who resolve to lose weight in 2012! Woo!


Part of me feels like this:

It's a new year! It's time to start fresh! I can DO THIS!!!

The other part of me feels like this:

The scale hates me.

*Honesty Alert*-----> I have promised myself that I was going to lose weight every January since 2003. I have failed to accomplish that goal every single time. I don't know why this year is going to be any different. I can't promise that it will be. But I have some new weapons on my side of the trenches. And I think they'll make all the difference in the world. 


My Personal Atom Bomb?  I have a workout buddy/personal trainer. Yes, she is my best friend. And yes, we'll probably be splitting a bottle of red wine at the end of every week while we commiserate over the unfairness in the truth of our waist-to-hip ratios. But the truth of the matter is that I have someone who isn't only willing to support me through this journey, but will be actively taking it WITH me. What a concept. If I weren't so scared of her Army-inspired workouts, I'd be flat out thrilled.


I'm not going to turn my blog into a wellness, fitness blog. You're not going to get daily rants about my elliptical, or regular information regarding my weigh-ins. I'm sure there will be some funny moments that I'll share regarding exercise (because let's face it. Exercise is funny.) But don't expect much to change around here this year.


Well...except for my header. And my button. And the basic look of my blog in general...(fingers crossed that you like what you see!)