The List of Why I’m Pissed

Just a word of warning…this might be a long post, but if that bugs you–tough. It’s my blog. I’m feeling the urge to write, and I’ve got a solid hour before I even think about bedtime. Take those two reasons combined with the fact that I’ve really started feeling crappy about my personal health (yes, read that as “fatness”) lately, you’re in for a treat. (Not a chocolate-covered one, either).

You may have noticed my absence from the blogging arena over the last few months. (then again, maybe not). I’ll be honest–I’ve really not felt like blogging (not just here, don’t feel neglected) but at my main (writing) blog as well. I think part of the reason–possibly a big part of it–is in going back to school. I just don’t have the time, motivation or energy some days to sit and type. My schedule has adjusted from waking up at 6:30 to now waking at 4:30. (Yes, AM). Instead of enjoying the sunset and going to bed around 11, I wake up in the dark and go to bed in the dark–I usually hop into bed before 9:30. In the meantime, I’m making dinner, cleaning, napping…all things I must do to maintain sanity and some type of healthy lifestyle to keep going.

But it’s wreaked total and complete havoc on my body. In the past two years, I think I have gained almost 30 pounds. I attribute this to a few things–a job change where I don’t get to set my own schedule, where I wake up so early it feels like I’m still on the day before, a really rotten lunch time (my lunchtime is 10:10 am, leaving me desperately famished when it’s time to go home despite a snack or two during my lesson prep time), being mentally, emotionally, physically & psychologically drained after raising other people’s kids for an entire day and literally needing a nap to keep myself awake past 5pm. (no longer than a 20 minute power nap, but still).

The jogging phase last spring worked really well for me. Coming out of a cold, dreary Ohio winter, stopping at the park three days a week and getting my creaky body to move was refreshing. Energizing. And novel. I had no false hopes that I would magically transform into a jogger (even if I led you to believe that here). I don’t enjoy jogging enough to keep at it for the rest of my life (despite my previous blog comments). And this time, there wasn’t a lot of weight loss/muscle tightening as there has been during past jogging lapses…I mean session.

And why keep at something if you don’t like it and it doesn’t seem to be working? (I could insert a comment here about a teacher I work with, but I’ll keep that to myself).

I think I’m rambling, and it’s 30 minutes til bedtime. What I got on here to say tonight, mostly for myself, is that over the last few months, I’ve really been feeling shitty and I have no one but myself to blame. Period. Well, I could pass a bit of that on to the hub, since he takes me out to dinner now and then and has good intentions, like tonight, of getting me dessert after a fairly decent dinner at home by buying me Hostess SnoBalls which I feel obligated to eat just to make him feel good (I’d rather have HoHos). But no one is pointing a gun at my temple and forcing me to eat. (no one except the voices).

Here’s what’s pissing me off about this whole extra 30 pounds thing (I like lists, in no particular order)

1. I am eating a healthy breakfast every day. I have only had donuts approximately 3 times in the last three months. If that. And one donut was a gift from my son’s best friend who works at Jolly Pirate. (He always was my favorite).

2. I’m eating light lunches. A Lean Cuisine and some type of veggie or fresh fruit to go with, a water or diet Ginger Ale or plain iced tea. I’ve had a cafeteria lunch twice. Once was the new pizza, which was the first and last time that creature gets near my mouth, and once was when I was sick and had salad for lunch…and it made me queasy. Corn dogs at school never make me queasy. Occasionally I’ll add in a yogurt. Or maybe sunflower seeds. All properly portioned, of course.

3. I’m having this issue with severe sugar/chocolate/candy cravings after lunch and dinner. For example, today I as 110% satisfied with my roasted turkey lean cuisine and apple. But about ten minutes later, I practically ate my arm off to get a piece of halloween candy from my good-reward-for-the-kids stash, which turned into two pieces which turned into four and a hunk of Dove chocolate. And I wasn’t even remotely hungry. I kept telling myself as I shoveled in the mini Twix, but the connection to the brain was lost when those chocolately atoms hit my tongue. Like I’ve lost all common sense. I have two degrees from college yet I don’t know how to stop eating when I’m not hungry? Ridiculous.

4. Likewise, I was a fool and purchased a huge-ass (I can use that word because it’s what the candy creates) bag of tootsie roll-related candy. I didn’t do this under the premise of halloween, but under the premise (is it a premise if it’s true and factual?) of being very dedicated to my writing over the last few months, and in preparation for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November, which I’ll be doing for the first time ever. Why tootsie rolls for writing? Because in grad school (I told you I have two degrees) I did a research project on how I learn using different multiple intelligences (modalities, if you’re into that type of stuff). My discovery was that when I have something chewy or something to suck on (Hey, candy. This is the food blog, not the porno blog), it literally helps me focus on the work I’m doing. If I start working on an essay, if I suck on a tootsie pop, it really does help keep me focused for much longer than if I didn’t. So I bought the candy in hopes I’d be a NYT best selling author by now. All I got was a New York sized waistline.

5. Another thing that pisses me off (in case you’ve forgotten why I started this list): my Wii Fit. The kid forced me to get one a month ago. I like it. Fun, cute, interactive, my Mii is utterly adorable and never has a bad hair day…but the body test every morning was pissing me off to no end. I know weight fluctuates. But in the days before the gianormous bag of candy in my kitchen, I was gaining three pounds a day after walking, eating healthy and drinking all my water. Oh, and 45 minutes of Wii Fit thrown in for good measure. WTF? I know I’m fat but I did not gain 5.4 pounds in a single day. Unless the dog was on my back on the balance board.

There are other reasons I’m pissed but it’s close to bedtime and I’m losing steam. I think what I’m most hacked off about is that I’ve let this weight creep up while bitching about it but doing nothing about it, really, except giving in to my stupid behaviors that are leading me right into trouble. I can’t diss the entire candy bag, but I need to stop eating three pieces here, three there, six later, two for midnight, etc. And I need to exercise more. Period. I recently read a research report where they found that folks who did an average of 300 minutes of exercise per week were the best losers of all. I used to do that, count minutes. Then my pedometer ran out of batteries.

I just found the pedometer today, accidentally, in the bathroom drawer. Do you think that’s a sign?

Thanks for letting me vent. You know I’ll be back. Except next time, I’ll make it entertaining.

Still here

I’m still here, battling the forces of sugar and evil. About to put on my mask and cape (so slimming!) to head to the state fair where I know I’ll lose a minimum of one deep-fried battle.

I’m still jogging, albeit at a slower clip since coming back from a week at summer camp.

I’ll catch you up soon. In the meantime, donuts of the world–unite!

I Don’t Think I’m Normal

Being a fatgirl for most of my life (since age 4, I surmise), I go on the assumption that the way I eat is the way most people eat: fingers out of the way, all hands on deck.

Before you think I just slap my face around a trough at mealtime (oink! more corn, please!), I need to explain where this thought came from.

My little bro had heart surgery yesterday (by little, I mean 30, but a little bro will always be a little bro) so today I hung out in his room while he rested with his wonderful pain med drip. In the room, there’s one small window that overlooks the vestibule of the heart hospital. It also looks into the waiting area of families awaiting news on other heart surgeries. While I watched, a woman (my age) and a man I figure was her dad sat down with a paper sack full of lunch between them. She had something–I couldn’t voyeur that far, (love people watching behind shaded glass~) but he had a sandwich and a Frosty. And a book.

Mind you, this was around 3pm. I’d had a bowl of Fruity Pebbles around8 this morning, so I was a wee bit hungry. Some people watch Playboy, I watch food court. As I watched him eat (after pouring the entire salt packet on his sandwich….in a heart hospital….ugh), I realized something. Five minutes later, he was still eating. And reading. And chewing.

I think he’d taken like three bites in that five minutes. In the same time span, I could have eating his sandwich, fries, frosty and have been in line for something else. He wasn’t paying a whit of attention to his food. Rather, he was engrossed in his book.

For some reason, this made me reflect on how I eat. For me,there’s some type of unbreakable laser-like spell with any type of food in the vicinity. And not in a good way. If you ever watch Cesar on the Dog Whisperer, it’s like when the dogs get so fixated on another dog, or a rabbit or a person and can’t see anything else in the universe except that thing–until Cesar breaks the spell. (Poke me in the ribs, Cesar, and see if I stop eating). It really is scary to be food in my presence. There is no cease fire.

But this guy…he ate about half the sandwich then proceeded to wrap up the rest and toss it out. I like to think it was the massive sodium content, but after watching him eat two bites of his Frosty, read for five minutes and eat two more bites, I realized the real deal–the man is not stark raving mad around food. He enjoyed his lunch, ate til he was (presumably) full and enjoyed his dessert. I imagined myself with a Frosty–no one gets near it til it’s gone.

This made me very aware of how I eat, and I tried carrying over those thoughts (shameful, if truth be told) through dinner. I ate slower, tried to enjoy my food without dying to scarf it down. It was nice. I don’t know if it will last but I keep reminding myself that his slowness and enjoying the food vs. my maniacal food attacks are probably why he was skinny as a beanpole and I’m as fat as a tomato.

Jog Log #7: Who, me? Like Jogging?

7-6-09, Monday

8:47 am

B.R. Park

20′08

17:46 min/mi

1.13 miles

190 calories

Pre-jog thoughts: Wanted to jog in my head, body not so convinced. But as soon as I hit the path, I get jumpy and ready to run. That’s a good thing.

Jog thoughts: The bitch on the iPod was mysteriously absent  until the last five minutes. Figured she’d leave me hanging when  I needed her most. I need her to mark my spots on the run with her cheery “5 minutes completed”. I managed pretty good, but I’m going to have to figure out how to get her to follow me on every run. Maybe I should bring her a donut or two…

Post Jog: Really happy to be jogging again. WHAT? Yeah. I’m afraid to admit it out of fear of jinxing myself, but I do feel so much better after jogging.

What I Noticed: When I started my run, I was in a pissy mood. When I finished, I was physically spent, but felt like I’d cracked through a shell and emerged a new person. I like jogging because it gives me that feeling every day.

First time for…not feeling my lungs would burst at the end. Progress, progress.

Jog Log #6: Lookie What I Found! My Butt!

7-1-09, Weds.

10:42 am

B.R. Park

20′09

17:32 min/mi

1.14 miles

193 calories

Pre-jog thoughts: I was ready for the 20 minute contiuum. Jogging Monday made me feel ready to jog today. I don’t know that I can beat my old time, but I’ll give it a try.

Jog thoughts: I ran, as usual, but when my iPod friend told me I had one minute left, I felt possessed to blow her away. I picked up the pace and made my best time (and calorie count) ever. I figure if I keep jogging the same way, nothing much will change. Like the number on the scale.

Post Jog: Sucked wind. Felt good.

What I Noticed: I didn’t notice much about the jog. What I noticed came when in front of the mirror before a shower. Walking by the mirror, I caught a glimpse of something I haven’t seen in years, possibly decades: My butt. Well, allow me to clarify. I have a butt, plenty of one in fact. The square footage of my behind rivals the land holdings of some third world countries. Unlike those countries, there’s been no real deliniation between the butt & thigh.

No more unibutt! I have the slightest bit of definition on the behind that separates the two regions so they can duly be noted on the next update of the world map. Now that’s progress. I don’t care what the scale says.

First time for…actually admiring myself in a mirror. I’m not getting too carried away, but it is a nice change.

Jog Log #5: After the Reunion

6-29-09, Monday.

8:47 am

B.R. Park

20′14

17:58 min/mi

1.13 miles

189 calories

Pre-jog thoughts: I can’t believe my class reunion is over. You know, I weighed myself once near the start of June–and had lost nothing. Total bullshit. I vowed not to weigh myself again. Ever. We still had fun, but I need to burn off some of those extra calories from mom’s.

Jog thoughts: Excited to jog. I feel so much better following every run. That in itself scares me. To death.

I didn’t feel like I’d smash any records, but I promised myself I’d not walk. Even if it took me 12 hours to finish, I was jogging the whole way.

Post Jog: Shocked as heck that I broke my last record. Shocked.

What I Noticed: The hills aren’t as intimidating now as they were when I started. I read advice in a runner’s magazine (I didn’t just buy it for the pictures) that suggested not looking ahead on hills, but focus on the bit of road just beyond your toes. Worked for me. Of course, my calves didn’t follow that advice and still know the hills are hills.

Meet Focaccia, My New BFF

I’m a whiz in the kitchen. I’ve been reading cookbooks since the age of 5, possibly even the age of 4 when mom got me & my sister the Disney Party Cookbook (why wouldn’t she let me broil the bacon-wrapped hot dogs? I’m still battling that demon). I have my favorites but have been known to go on binges at B&N totalling in the hundreds when there’s a particular display of pretty kitchen guides.

There’s only one thing that scares me in the kitchen: breads. Not quickbreads…I can whip out a cranberry orange rosemary loaf faster than you can butter a loaf pan, but real bread with real kneading and…gasp!…real yeast does a number to my self-confidence between the stove & sink.

So, my purchase from the Cookbook of the Month club a few years back of the Bread Bible probably wasn’t one of my smarter investments. I’ve read it with a loving fear, kind of like when I read IT in 5th grade only during true daylight hours (and still cried at lunchtime because I didn’t want to walk home for lunch because I had to pass storm drains). These breads are gorgeous, amazing and delicious.

And impossible.

Two days ago, stumped for a dinner plan, I got the brilliant idea of slicing up banana peppers from our garden, sauteing them to a crisp (technically frying) and layering them on a focaccia crust (from a tube) for a simple veggie-ish pizza.

Brilliant with the exception of no focaccia in a tube. I didn’t feel like running to the store, and I recalled a recipe for focaccia in the Bread Bible that promised me it was easy and required no kneading.

I’m not an idiot: I had a backup plan (pizza place number and a coupon) but thought I’d give focaccia a whirl (literally–it’s a soupy yeast dough you make with a MIXER! Who knew?!).

Long story short? We’ve had focaccia two, going on three, nights. And everyone (still) loves it.

The only thing easier than making focaccia is driving thru for donuts. Really. Here’s the recipe (shorthand version, courtesy of The Bread Bible)

2&3/4 cup unbleached flour

3/8 t. yeast (I go with 1/2 t. because they don’t make a 3/8 teaspoon. And I don’t do fractions. At all.)

Whisk together in a Kitchen Aid mixer briefly to incorporate. Slowly pour in room-temp water, 2 cups minus 2T. It’ll be soupy but it’s supposed to be. Don’t get scared that you’re making paper mache paste. I promise, it will work.

Leave this on about 4 or 5 speed for about 20 minutes. Cookbook says 20, it’s been more like 25 for me. Through the magic of cooking, the soup will come together in a ball-ish form, somewhat like melted mozzerella. When it starts creeping up the paddle like kudzu gone crazy, add:

3/4 t. sugar

3/4 t. salt

and let it mix for a few minutes. While that’s going on, grease a big bowl and have plastic wrap ready.

Scrape the dough into the bowl, cover with plastic wrap and put it somewhere moderately warm (I just tucked it into the microwave) for 5 hours.

Yes, 5 hours. When I go back to the classroom in the fall, I’ll make this before I leave in the AM and take it out to bake when I get home in the PM. Yes, my family will still be wanting focaccia then.

Make sure you mark on the bowl (or eyeball) where the dough should be when it has risen to 2x its original volume.

In about 5 hours, seriously lube up a sheet pan with olive oil. Don’t scrimp–this stuff will stick like crazyglue to your pan in any spot where it isn’t lubed up. Trust me. Dump out the dough, stretch it good but gently to get it to fill the pan. Let it sit for about ten minutes, then stretch again. Letting it relax a bit makes it go into corners easier (kind of like people drinking at a party).

If it’s still being a bitch, let it rest 10 more minutes and try again. Then drizzle it with olive oil and cover with more plastic wrap. Back into the warm place for another hour.

After 30 minutes, preheat your oven. The book says 475F, I went with 500 on my convection oven. I want that sucker hot and crispy.

An hour after you put it in, check to see if it’s doubled again (mine didn’t double again last night, but it was still perfect), take it out, take off the plastic and sprinkle with whatever herbs you like. I just did dill, salt and fresh pepper last night. Make dimples with your fingers and add more olive oil if you like, then toss it in the oven for about 10-12 minutes. Keep a close eye on it, though. You want bread, not charcoal.

When I used this as pizza dough, the boys clamored for leftovers. They never clamor for anything, especially leftovers, so I took it as a sign that focaccia should be at every meal. Just trying to figure out how to get it out on my 4th of July holiday spread…

Jog Log #4 (The I-Ran-20-Without-Walking Log)

6-24-09, Weds.

8:35 am

B.R. Park

20′07

18:05 min/mi

1.11 miles

187 calories

Pre-jog thoughts: My brain was so ready for this run for some odd reason. Maybe not enough shiny things or pretty sprinkles to look at for entertainment. I was up at 6:30, as usual, and from about 6:50, the brain wanted to jog. Since the temp is supposed to hover in the 90s today, I obliged. Plus, remember: the earlier you hit the park, the fewer weirdos in your path.

Jog thoughts: Evidently the body did NOT get the brain’s memo today re: being stoked for a run. Body bitched the entire time, from first strike. Odd pain in the right knee cap–not a usual spot for pain. The calves were a bit sore today as well, which flummoxed me (love that word!) until I remembered the dog & I took a new path at the park yesterday with lots of stairs.

Starting out, I had a gut feeling I wouldn’t make a new personal best. First off, Tiger is tired of me and second, I just didn’t feel it. Instead I set my sights a bit loftier: run all the way through to the last little hill. This means no walking up the hill after the half-way point. Jogging only to the last hill, walk about 30 seconds, jog.

Guess what? I did even better. I didn’t walk for one single minute of my jog (or second). Did you hear me? I RAN 20 STRAIGHT MINUTES WITHOUT STOPPING. Not something I thought I’d do when I’d eyed that plate of donuts around Easter time.

Post Jog: Walking it off felt good. No more pain, except that darn niggling cramp in the left calf. That’s almost always there. Did some good stretching, came home to take the dog down to the little park by our house.

What I Noticed: Disgusting things. While I love and utilize public parks for their beauty, evidently the scuzzy people use it as their bedrooms. If Trojan ever needs market research on the cheap, they should stop by the parking lot and check out the variety of prophylactic wrappers in the dirt around the parking lot. Oh, not just wrappers either. Real horses in every color there, too. Nothing says “romantic night” like ripping off the foil top in a public parking lot. You know you’ve got yourself one hell of a man if he takes you to the parking lot for a romantic night.

The only reason I’m obsessed with the amount of condomage around the parking lot is because it’s distracting me from the number of empty syringes lying next to them. Hey, better safe than sorry. At least someone’s using protection.

First time for…:laughing while I jogged. Passed an elderly man having a tough time walking.

“Gotta stay in shape somehow,” he comments, motioning to himself while walking.

“Yeah, I know,” I reply.

“You do that every day?” he asks. I assume he means the jogging, not the profuse sweating and heavy panting. Although, if one of those condom wrappers are his…

“Hell no. I’d be dead if I did,” I laugh back. He laughs too.

It’s good to be me. I’d be better to be a size 12 me, but still good.

Jog Log #3

6-22-04, Monday

10:05 am

B.R. Park

20′10

17:39 min/mi

1.13 miles

192 calories

Pre-jog thoughts: I hate jogging. I hate jogging. I hate jogging. Ass is too big. Still hate jogging.

Jog thoughts: Again with the “I can always walk” mentality. I just didn’t feel too great or energetic. I am, however, noticing the slight effects of jogging on my body. I passed by a window yesterday wearing a new pair of capris (thrift store, yeah!) and stopped for a second glance. My gut wasn’t preceeding me. I think I might actually be able to see my toes in the shower. Will check on that one.

Post Jog: Just about fell over when Tiger Woods called me on the iPod to tell me that was my fastest time ever. Then I went home and watched him lose at Bethpage Black. Hope I didn’t jinx him.

What I Noticed: More weirdos at the park. Shouldn’t these people be working? Seriously. Do you really need to drive to the park to smoke your cigarettes so I inhale your nastyass fumes as I jog by? And do you think non-smokers don’t know you’re smoking in the woods themselves if they can’t see you? Helloooo….smoke stinks. And so do your morals.

First time for…: crossing the same starting line I start from. Not a real starting line, just a big square of grafitti from the local wanna-be gang bangers association. Like a welcome mat the the park. I usually only make it to the little tree at the curve but for some reason, I made it further.

Jog Log #2

6-20-09, Saturday

9:22 am

B.R. Park

20′08

18:05min/mi

1.11 miles

187 calories

Pre-jog thoughts: I forget. It’s Weds. of the next week and I forgot to blog my last two runs (before today). I know there was a reason I didn’t do it Friday…hmm…oh yeah. Lightening. I’m not so much into that scene. Electricity & me…not such good friends.

Jog thoughts: Again, I forget. Probably feeling pretty good. I don’t think I had any major issues to hash out.

Post Jog: Morning jogs feel better because there are less park weirdos sitting around in their cars. I do remember as I jogged, more people came into the park. Like at one point I think I counted 10 cars. And there aren’t really that many parking spots. Weird.

What I Noticed: A strange red patch of grass in the woods near where I start. I was a little unnerved, so I pulled out my Nancy Drew magnifying glass and investigated, half expecting to find a body and blood. It was only red from where a few idiot kids had been setting off fireworks the night before. Good thing for me. I was hardly dressed to be interviewed by CNN for finding a dead body.

First time for…: Jogging up the hill at the halfway point. Whoever designed my course is an idiot. Who puts a hill at the halfway point? Oh, wait. Strike that. It’s me.