Such excitement we have
First of all, whatever political stripe you come from, if you're in these United States GO VOTE. It's just damn silly not to.
My Hub has discovered the joys of fitness accessory shopping. He bought a chin-up bar and new work-out clothes, the latter because I told him he'd feel better about working out if he had an appropriate outfit. He dismissed this as "girly" but bought a pair of shorts and a shirt anyway, and I found him posing in the mirror and checking out his own butt. Do I know this stuff, or do I know it?
He's lost 15 pounds now, which puts him solidly in the 180s for the first time since I've known him, and besides YRG he's changed up his off-days to work on muscle. We are now squabbling over who gets to do what when, since both of us can't use the freeweights at the same time. A compromise is in the works; basically, we need to figure out how to coordinate so that I'm doing my reps while he's doing chin-ups, and then he can do his while I'm doing crunches and whatnot, or one of us getting the exercise bike before the other, yadda yadda. It's wacky.
I have shifted my one "off" day per week to Monday, because that's when it will usually happen anyway. Weekend workouts are more fun anyway.
There's a certain amount of studying the glycemic load of foods going on at our house, and trending back toward the six-meals-per-day concept. Ye Olde "Eating For Life" BFL cookbook has come back out. Brown rice and whole-wheat pasta have booted out the white varieties (which shall shortly be headed to a food bank nearby). All the whole grains that I tried to introduce into our household last year are now getting a second look, now that my Hub is into the whole fitness thing. Oddly, this is all happening at a slow, meandering pace, so it's only been lately that I've looked back and thought, "Hey, a lot has changed in six weeks."
Basically, I've quit sugar. I've been dabbling with it all week and now I'm making it official: no more candy, cookies, cake, or whatever, because they just make me mental. Weirdly, this comes about a month after I realized that I'd stopped drinking alcoholic beverages-- heck, I've phased out almost all beverages besides water, tea, and coffee (I am so totally not ready to quit caffeine); I think I had some diet soda in there somewhere, when my stomach was upset, but that's pretty much it.
As a crutch for getting myself off sugar, I'm resorting to apple juice. I know, I know, but it's in a controlled container-- a 90 calorie 100% juice drinkbox from Trader Joe's-- and I can keep it at my desk and take a sip a few times every hour. It beats the hell out of my damn-near-uncontrollable urges to hit the vending machine or snitch Halloween candy. (Which is still EVERYWHERE at our office. I hate people, I really do.) NO MORE SUGAR, man.
Here's the weird thing: there are some foods that I refuse to eat because even the thought of them gives me a very visceral reaction, based on bad experiences in the past. Burger King Whoppers are on that list, because they give me a horrible, nasty intestinal experience afterward. Fried chicken is also on that list, thanks to a terrible experience with food poisoning whilst on a very long flight a few years back. I'm trying to put sugary foods on that list, because they make me feel like I have the flu: achy, irritable, and exhausted (probably due to the crash at the end).
Back to the glycemic load thing: thank you, NutritionData.com, for having the glycemic load of foods listed on there with everything else. I had been irritated at the glycemic index for making carrots and peas and corn look bad (dude, I'm a girl from the Great Plains, I live on sweet corn in the summer), but the glycemic load thing changes that so that life makes sense again. Corn is better for you than pasta, watermelon is not the devil, and I can rest comfortably in my knowledge that in general I can stick to my "the less processed, the better" rule of thumb.
Happily, I seem to have re-discovered my motivation, due to-- I'm sort of ashamed to admit this, it's so shallow-- seeing myself in pictures. Ack, argh, aiee. It was one thing when my Hub was still tubby, but he's slimming down fast and looking visibly better than in recent pictures, and I feel like I must catch up. He already has several advantages: 1) he's a boy, and boys lose weight easier than girls, 2) he's new at this, so the shiny hasn't worn off yet, and 3) he needs less sleep than I do for lord only knows what reason. Bah. I must get a move on.
In other news, RIP my darling pedometer, which developed a crack in the casing and, yesterday, disintegrated all over the stairs. I need to get a new one like NOW.
And that, my friends, is all the news from this end of things. Later!
My Hub has discovered the joys of fitness accessory shopping. He bought a chin-up bar and new work-out clothes, the latter because I told him he'd feel better about working out if he had an appropriate outfit. He dismissed this as "girly" but bought a pair of shorts and a shirt anyway, and I found him posing in the mirror and checking out his own butt. Do I know this stuff, or do I know it?
He's lost 15 pounds now, which puts him solidly in the 180s for the first time since I've known him, and besides YRG he's changed up his off-days to work on muscle. We are now squabbling over who gets to do what when, since both of us can't use the freeweights at the same time. A compromise is in the works; basically, we need to figure out how to coordinate so that I'm doing my reps while he's doing chin-ups, and then he can do his while I'm doing crunches and whatnot, or one of us getting the exercise bike before the other, yadda yadda. It's wacky.
I have shifted my one "off" day per week to Monday, because that's when it will usually happen anyway. Weekend workouts are more fun anyway.
There's a certain amount of studying the glycemic load of foods going on at our house, and trending back toward the six-meals-per-day concept. Ye Olde "Eating For Life" BFL cookbook has come back out. Brown rice and whole-wheat pasta have booted out the white varieties (which shall shortly be headed to a food bank nearby). All the whole grains that I tried to introduce into our household last year are now getting a second look, now that my Hub is into the whole fitness thing. Oddly, this is all happening at a slow, meandering pace, so it's only been lately that I've looked back and thought, "Hey, a lot has changed in six weeks."
Basically, I've quit sugar. I've been dabbling with it all week and now I'm making it official: no more candy, cookies, cake, or whatever, because they just make me mental. Weirdly, this comes about a month after I realized that I'd stopped drinking alcoholic beverages-- heck, I've phased out almost all beverages besides water, tea, and coffee (I am so totally not ready to quit caffeine); I think I had some diet soda in there somewhere, when my stomach was upset, but that's pretty much it.
As a crutch for getting myself off sugar, I'm resorting to apple juice. I know, I know, but it's in a controlled container-- a 90 calorie 100% juice drinkbox from Trader Joe's-- and I can keep it at my desk and take a sip a few times every hour. It beats the hell out of my damn-near-uncontrollable urges to hit the vending machine or snitch Halloween candy. (Which is still EVERYWHERE at our office. I hate people, I really do.) NO MORE SUGAR, man.
Here's the weird thing: there are some foods that I refuse to eat because even the thought of them gives me a very visceral reaction, based on bad experiences in the past. Burger King Whoppers are on that list, because they give me a horrible, nasty intestinal experience afterward. Fried chicken is also on that list, thanks to a terrible experience with food poisoning whilst on a very long flight a few years back. I'm trying to put sugary foods on that list, because they make me feel like I have the flu: achy, irritable, and exhausted (probably due to the crash at the end).
Back to the glycemic load thing: thank you, NutritionData.com, for having the glycemic load of foods listed on there with everything else. I had been irritated at the glycemic index for making carrots and peas and corn look bad (dude, I'm a girl from the Great Plains, I live on sweet corn in the summer), but the glycemic load thing changes that so that life makes sense again. Corn is better for you than pasta, watermelon is not the devil, and I can rest comfortably in my knowledge that in general I can stick to my "the less processed, the better" rule of thumb.
Happily, I seem to have re-discovered my motivation, due to-- I'm sort of ashamed to admit this, it's so shallow-- seeing myself in pictures. Ack, argh, aiee. It was one thing when my Hub was still tubby, but he's slimming down fast and looking visibly better than in recent pictures, and I feel like I must catch up. He already has several advantages: 1) he's a boy, and boys lose weight easier than girls, 2) he's new at this, so the shiny hasn't worn off yet, and 3) he needs less sleep than I do for lord only knows what reason. Bah. I must get a move on.
In other news, RIP my darling pedometer, which developed a crack in the casing and, yesterday, disintegrated all over the stairs. I need to get a new one like NOW.
And that, my friends, is all the news from this end of things. Later!
posted by Meg at
10:20 AM
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