Recipe for Melting Fat

This is Dillypoo after getting off the treadmill in the morning:

See all that shine on my face? It's melting fat.

The hardest part about getting that fat melted? Getting started.

But once I'm up and on that treadmill, I feel exhilarated and empowered.

6:00 a.m. Shut off alarm and crawl out of bed.

6:10 a.m. Get on treadmill and start walking.

6:11 a.m. Crank the treadmill faster and start running.

6:22 a.m. Reach the one mile mark and reduce speed to brisk walk.

6:32 a.m. Grab small weights and do 50 overhead lifts and 100 arm curls.

6:41 a.m. Reach the 2.25 mile mark and stop treadmill.

6:50 a.m. Hop on Nordic Rider and do 50 arm pulls and 100 leg pushes.

7:15 a.m. Collapse in bathtub for soothing soak.

Sitting by the Owlery

Dillypoo has been impatiently waiting for a call from Ellen Degeneres. I applied to be on her upcoming show about the new Harry Potter theme park in Florida.

A post on her website earlier this month asked:

"Do you have a precocious child who knows everything there is to know about Harry Potter books and movies? Is talking about Harry Potter his or her favorite subject? If so, we want to hear about them! Click here to tell us about your little wizard."

To which I responded:

"As a precocious child of 46, I consider myself an avid Harry Potter fan (although at my age, "precocious" may be a dubious label). My family and friends would say I'm a crazed Harry Potter fanatic. Whatever. What do they know? (A lot, apparently.) So here's my question: How "little" do you have to be to earn a coveted spot on the show? I've lost a lot of weight this year so I'm much smaller than I used to be. Does that count? How about the fact that I own five wands, have personalized Harry Potter license plates on my car and I actively support SPEW? I've also read the books more than a dozen times each. If you're not too fussy about how old your wizards are, please send me an owl!"

Turns out she was pretty fussy. Two small boys (who I doubt could lift, much less read, Deathly Hallows) got the owl post.



Weigh Day Update: Dillypoo definitely has her mojo back! I lost .8 pounds this week, which pushed me past the 40 pound mark!

Crap Theory Update

The Crap Theory is valid!

"Scientists have finally confirmed what the rest of us have suspected for years: Bacon, cheesecake, and other delicious yet fattening foods may be addictive.

A new study in rats suggests that high-fat, high-calorie foods affect the brain in much the same way as cocaine and heroin. When rats consume these foods in great enough quantities, it leads to compulsive eating habits that resemble drug addiction, the study found."

You can read more about it here.

I'm brilliant! Who'd a thunk it?

Moving Dillypoo

Dillypoo is a bit sore today. But that's a good thing. It means I've been exercising.

I walked four miles in the park yesterday with The Professor. I walked 1.25 miles and ran 1.0 miles on the treadmill this morning.

Yes, Dillypoo ran. And I used small weights, too.

I still can't believe that this Dillypoo:

Is the same as this person:

I was reading one of my inspiration bloggers this morning, Sheryl over at Bitch Cakes. Her most recent post struck home:

"I never ran as a child, or an adult for that matter. I played no sports. Heck, I was so lazy I hardly walked. Truthfully, prior to age 35, I barely moved. So running, to me, seemed like the most painful and horrible thing you could put your body through. And if you're severely out of shape and overweight (like I was), running really is nothing short of torture - not to mention embarrassing."

Substitute age 35 with age 45, and I could've written that statement.

I had all kinds of excuses for not running (or exercising, for that matter). Running was for younger, fitter, thinner, active people, not me. My boobs were too big. My knees were too weak. Getting sweaty was gross.

Adding rigorous movement to my daily routine has been one of the biggest challenges I've ever faced.

Even bigger than learning to drink diet soda.

It's a challenge I still struggle with, but I meet it and beat it with a greater frequency. I'm winning the battle with my inner-child, who prefers to sleep in most mornings and drive through Taco Bell for dinner.

My excuses are also fewer.

My boobs aren't nearly as big as they used to be (thank you, Club WW). My knees are stronger than I thought. Sweat is a little more tolerable if I think of it as melting fat instead of losing vital bodily fluids.

I actually enjoy exercising. I ENJOY it!

I like the way my body feels when I push it further or faster. And I've noticed that when I don't work out, my back and neck ache worse.

Who knew?

And the best thing about this new attitude is the way I look. My formerly fat face:

Is much thinner now:

Which makes up for the loss of cleavage.

Yesterday, The Professor told me that I have a tiny face! Of course, the compliment was a bit back-handed as it was part of a larger question: "Why does it take you so long to put on make-up? You have a tiny face!"

It's been too long since any part of Dillypoo was tiny.

And I like this new, smaller me.

Dueling Snack Jars

The Professor and I have his and hers snack jars. The jar on the left is his. It's filled with his favorite granola bars, cookies and peanut butter crackers.

The jar on the right is mine. It's filled with my favorite 100 calorie cookie and cracker packs, pretzels, nuts and other low point goodies.

This evening I wanted to break up a granola bar from my jar over some fresh raspberries and yogurt.

Dillypoo wanted some crunch with dessert.

But when I looked in my snack jar, THEY WERE ALL GONE.

The Professor is eating my snacks.

Dillypoo: "You ate all of my snacks!"

The Professor: "What?"

Dillypoo: "You ate all of my one-point granola bars! From MY jar!"

The Professor: "Yeah. I ate all of your pretzels, too."

Grrrrrr!

He's lucky I think he's cute. Why else would I put up with his nonsense?

A Step in the Right Direction

My little pep talk to myself last week may have worked. I exercised more, tracked in my food journal and made healthy food choices this week.

And I lost 1.2 pounds!

The trick now is to stay on track and show another loss next week.

Which shouldn't be too difficult, so long as I stay away from these:

Why? Why? Why did you have to make these, Weight Watchers? Chocolate covered pretzels and caramel? Really?

The End

Jess, The Last Muggle to Read Harry Potter, is finishing the series tonight. She started in July. I discovered her last month.

I've grabbed my copy of Deathly Hallows and am reading along as she reads the last few chapters and posts periodic updates.

Which means Dillypoo is going to be up past her bedtime.

My apologies ahead of time to the out-of-town clients that I'll be entertaining at work tomorrow. I may be a little groggy.

Artist at Work

This is my little cousin, The Divine Miss E, also known as the Lady in Waiting to my niece, The Princess of Darkness. She's nine and a budding artist. She called yesterday to invite me and The Professor to a group exhibition featuring her work.

So The Professor and I drove to Granbury today for cookies and punch and third grade art.

Now, Dillypoo is barren by choice. I don't spend much time around kids unless they're related or I inadvertently cross their path at the Super Target (and where I'll trot my cart to the opposite end of the store if the glazed donut monster is a screamer).

No, maternal is NOT a word often used to describe Dillypoo.

Which is why I was bit apprehensive as we got closer to the venue. I wasn't sure what to expect at an elementary school art show other than lots of little people. I remember there was a lot of screaming and barely controlled chaos the last time I went to a grade school production.

Thankfully, the exhibit was held at a community arts center instead of the school auditorium. All of the little rug rats were smartly dressed and on their best behavior.

And I was uber impressed when I saw Miss E's mixed media collage of trees:

Isn't that lovely? Or am I just a beaming, biased Dillypoo?

If You Don't Like the Weather, Stick Around for a Few Days

Just another typical week in North Texas: snow, rain, freezing temperatures and sunshine!

Last Words

The unfortunate series of events surrounding the accidental drowning of my iPhone last Wednesday evening:

10:00 p.m. Turn off the tee vee and get ready for bed. Tidy up the room while listening to my iPod (Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince - again). Put my iPhone in the back pocket of my jeans while I putter.

10:10 p.m. Decide to do a load of laundry. Peel off my jeans and toss them into the basket. Carefully tuck my iPod into the waist of my pajama bottoms.

10:15 p.m. Carry basket of dirty jeans down to the laundry room. Empty the dryer and start the washer.

10:20 p.m. Fold and put away clean clothes. Re-position iPod in the waist of my pajama bottoms.

10:30 p.m. Stare at wardrobe trying to pick out work clothes for the next day. Decide to check Weather Bug on my iPhone to see if it'll be warm enough for short sleeves. Wander out to the tee vee room to get phone.

10:31 p.m. Search couch and desk for phone. Suddenly recall the sensation of putting something in the back pocket of my jeans, which are now in the washer.

10:32 p.m. Dart back into the closet to see if iPhone is sitting on a shelf or nestled in with my socks and undies.

10:33 p.m. Start cursing and frantically running around. Dash downstairs to the laundry room.

10:34 p.m. Stare at sudsy water swirling in the front loader washing machine. Twist dial until the beeper sounds and the lock clicks. Wonder briefly how much water will pour onto the floor when the door opens.

10:36 p.m. Spot the lime green case of my iPhone amid the black of sodden denim. Start whimpering.

10:40 p.m. Lovingly carry phone upstairs whispering, "Don't die! Don't die!"

10:42 p.m. Towel dry and try to pour water out of the casing. Read phone's final, faint message before shorting out forever:

"This device not compatible with iPhone."

Life Lesson No. 3

Make sure your iPhone isn't in the back pocket of your jeans before you do a load of laundry.

Wishful Thinking

Once upon a time, Dillypoo used to wish she was thinner and more active. Unfortunately, the Wish Diet never worked. Not even waving my wand made the fat disappear or my heart start pumping.

I should know. I tried it.

Inner Child Dillypoo: "I wish I could eat that bag of Doritos and lose weight."

Grown Up Dillypoo: "Put down the Doritos and go outside to play."

Inner Child Dillypoo: "No! I want cheesy chips! And a Snickers bar!"

Grown Up Dillypoo: "I wish you'd grow up."

Inner Child Dillypoo: "I wish you'd go away. Accio snacks!"

Last year I finally stopped listening to my inner child and joined Club WW, set up a treadmill and began blogging instead. And lo and behold! It worked!

Inner Child Dillypoo finally started to lose her baby fat.

But occasionally I have to remind myself that the Wish Diet doesn't work. That lost mojo I've been looking for? It's been hiding behind wishful thinking again.

I stopped working out and started wishing for better weather or dryer sinuses or new sneakers. Any or all of those things would make it easier to exercise.

And then I started wishing that my guilt for not exercising would go away.

I stopped journaling and tracking every morsel that passed my lips. I wished that the good eating habits I learned last year would make the bad habits I was falling back into not matter.

I was back on the Wish Diet.

So after confessing myself disappointed in myself this weekend, I went searching for my mojo and found it lurking under my treadmill. Making myself rise early to exercise is making it easier to eat healthy and get back on track.

Inner Child Dillypoo: "6:00 a.m.! It's sooooo early!"

Grown Up Dillypoo: "GET UP!"

Inner Child Dillypoo: "Go away! I want to sleep in."

Grown Up Dillypoo: "Wishful thinking, missy! Now hit that treadmill!"

I'll let you know this evening if I banished the Wish Diet early enough to make a difference on the scale for this week.

ETA
This post was inspired by Shannon and her Table Topics Tuesday blogs. Thanks for the inspiration!

ETA - Again
Today's Weigh Day results are in and Dillypoo gained 1.2 pounds this week. Looks like I decided to abandon that Wish Diet just in time. Let's see if I can lose that 1.2 next week, and maybe a tad more. Which means I should probably go to bed soon so I can get up at six o'freaking clock to work out.

Morning Mojo

Dillypoo has lost her mojo.

You may have noticed the lack of Weigh Day Updates lately. Or maybe you haven't. Does anyone read this thing?

Hello? Anybody out there?

I've been losing and gaining the same 1.5 pounds since the middle of December. I'm what they call "maintaining." Except I'm still 15 pounds (or so) away from my goal, so I really have no business being on maintenance.

And I can't really call this a plateau because that would infer I'm actively pursuing my weight loss program without result.

And I ain't actively doing anything.

Exercise? Very irregularly. I walked in my first marathon but I did nothing in the weeks leading up to it (not even a treadmill).

Tracking in my food journal? Not so much. I go days without recording anything more than the date.

Cooking? I had saltines and cheese for dinner last night. The Professor ate pretzels. Does that tell you anything?

I am, quite honestly, unimpressed with myself. I've been in a hazy fug since the first of the year and I can't seem to clear it.

I'm hoping this public confession will motivate (or guilt) me into action again. That's why I started this thing in the first place. I need to exercise! I need to journal!

And I need to understand why the dog keeps pushing her food bowl down the stairs:

There's nothing like the pitter patter of tiny chunks of dog food clattering down the stairs to disrupt a morning blogger.

Silly dog.

Stick it Where the Sun Shines

Sweet Donna over at My Sweetest Things gave me a Sunshine blog award!

I've never received a blog award before. Blogging is a pretty narcissistic activity. It's like writing in a diary and leaving it open for anyone to read. That's not something you expect to be rewarded for.

Especially when discussing personal things, like my weight or The Professor's housekeeping skills.

I'm always surprised and delighted to discover that somebody is reading my nonsense. Thank you, Donna! You're on for that Whataburger date the next time you're in North Texas.

I think I'll pass the award along to Casey at Poodleism. Her sassy commentaries on everything from pop culture to politics to cubicle life often leave me in a fit of giggles.

Sparklypoo

Yes, Dillypoo went back to Mr. Dillard's jewelry department and bought the same crystal necklace that she cut in half last week.

No, I have no sense or will power when it comes to sparkly things. But at least I'm well adorned.

Life Lesson No. 2

Never leave paper money lying around for the dog to eat.

Cherries

Dillypoo is craving cherries.

I've searched almost every produce section in a 15 mile radius of my house looking for them. I'm going through withdrawal. The DTs of Bing cherries.

It ain't pretty.

I blame Costco for my addiction. They had Bing cherries back in January. Big, sweet, juicy cherries!

I'm drooling just thinking about them. Again.

Each weekend I talk The Professor into stopping at a different grocery store so I can dash in and look for cherries.

Some might call this an enabling action. I call it love.

Two weeks ago:
Dillypoo: "Let's stop at Kroger and see if they have cherries!"

The Professor: "I'll wait in the car."

Dillypoo (10 minutes later): "They didn't have any cherries."

The Professor: "What's in the bag?"

Dillypoo: "Cookies from the bakery. Want one?"

Last weekend:
Dillypoo: "Let's stop at Central Market and see if they have cherries!"

The Professor: "I'll wait at the bookstore."

Dillypoo (10 minutes later): "They didn't have any cherries."

The Professor: "What's in the bag?"

Dillypoo: "Cookies from the bakery. Want one?"

Yeah, there's a reason I'm at Weight Watchers.

Bread and Toilet Paper

The Professor and I are at my parents house this evening. Mama isn't feeling well and Daddypoo has been taking care of her. He called earlier this afternoon and invited us over for dinner.

Which he wanted me to prepare when I got here.

So, the chickens are in the oven, I've updated both of their iPhones and The Professor is channel surfing on their new 52" tee vee while I blog.

I think The Professor has died and gone to heaven.

When Daddypoo made his invitation for us to come out and cook this evening, he also asked if I'd pick up a loaf of bread and some toilet paper.

I think it's been a while since either of them has left the house.

I bought them a loaf of bread and some TP while I was at the Super Target parting with my paycheck. And I thought it funny that my parents like cheap bread and premium toilet paper, and The Professor and I like premium bread and cheap toilet paper.

Not sure what that means, but I thought it funny.

Life Lesson No. 1

Never use scissors to pinch a loose bead on your brand new crystal necklace.

A Drop in the Bucket List

Guess what I did on Saturday?

I walked in my first marathon!

Yes, Dillypoo participated in a 5K, and it was so much fun!

I talked The Professor into dropping me off near the starting point with a promise to pick me up after I finished. That meant I didn't have to get there three hours before my race just to find parking (the marathon, half marathon, ultra marathon and 10K started before the 5K).

Thank you, sweetheart!

I still had to wait about 45 minutes in the cold (it was a brisk 38ish degrees Saturday morning). My fingers were numb by the time we started.

I did pretty good for my first time, I think. I finished in 50 minutes and 8 seconds, averaging 16 minutes a mile! And I was the 3,142nd person to cross the finish line out of 3,730 participants. But I was walking and a lot of them were running.

I was even walking fast enough to pass other people!

I can't wait to do it again!