Cleavers, cornsilk, and goldenrod.

These three herbs comprise the tincture I'm taking for a bladder infection. I really hope that they work. I do not relish the idea of taking a round of antibiotics. Why carpet bomb the whole system to rout out a few misplaced bacteria?

Tomorrow: Class from 9 AM to 4 PM. I hope I can fit in some exercise.

Upcoming post: Adventures in angel food. Stay tuned!

UPDATE: I am pleased to report that my herbal formula is kicking the UTI's ass!

Pilates hurts. And bones.

I love my Pilates DVD, I do. The thing that kills me is the inner thigh exercises. No other exercises I've encountered isolate those inner thighs like Pilates. Help me now.

It's good, though. Satisfying.

In other news, I've lately been startled to notice my own bones. If I scratch my dry winter skin, sometimes I'll feel a rib where there was just flesh before, or more spinal details than usual. It's odd, feeling one's body shift in subtle but definite ways. I think a person might subconsciously resist weight loss because s/he is accustomed to his/her body. Having this thing we identify as "self" shift and change is somewhat unnerving. Who is this beneath my clothes? This is not what I identify as "me."

Of course, when the weight loss is deliberate, it's a nice kind of surprise.

PS Had to buy a belt to keep my jeans up today.

Welcome to Plateau Town!

I dropped 8 pounds easily, and now I am hovering. Half a pound down, 2 pounds up, 2 pounds down, half a pound up. Last night I went to the WW meeting with a friend who happens to be a fitness professional. I asked her about body weight set points. She said that yes, she has experienced them, too--certain weights where your body decides it's happy and does not want to budge.

Thankfully, my friend is a fitness professional! She had some good tips. (WW does not have much to say about fitness. Their advice can be summed up in one word: Move! Not very nuanced.)

Here are her ideas for leaving Plateau Town in the rear view mirror:

1. Cardio, cardio, cardio. 5-7 days/week.
2. Try exercising in the morning to jack up metabolism for the whole day. (Not so feasible for me...)
3. Don't use all the food Points earned through exercise. You are allowed to let them go.

She gave me a mantra: Muscle is heavier than fat. Muscle takes up less space, Muscle burns more per hour than any part of your bod...

I was dismayed to find the WW scale said I'd gained half a pound, but the home scale said I'd lost one. My friend told me it was probably water weight. Sure enough, I came home and stepped on the scale: Same weight as at the meeting. Then I peed and tried again: One pound lighter.

No more chugging water and jasmine tea before meetings!

Reverse growth spurts.

You know how teens, puppies, and kittens grow in such a way that they have, say, huge feet and hands and tiny little torsos? I believe I am now a size smaller on the top half of my body than the bottom. I feel like I'm having a reverse growth spurt.

Getting back on the wagon: let's define.

Here's the scenario. You are taken out for lunch. You see the bread basket and, starving, estimate maybe 2 Points/roll. You eat two.

You discover later that the rolls at this particular Small Chain are double the points you thought. This means you are out of Points to eat dinner. Moreover, because you've already eaten out twice this week (happy birthday!?), you have consumed your allocated 35 "floating" Points per week. You can only earn so many Points from exercise, and anyway, you are incredibly sore and need to take it easy today.

If you skip supper, you will feel cranky and stressy and maybe end up just eating loads of high-carbohydrate foods later. If you don't skip it, you are guaranteed not to lose weight today. I mean, the point of counting Points is to stay within them.

Which is it? How does one get back on the wagon in time for dinner? This scenario keeps knocking me off my wagon this week--again, happy birthday?--and, because I'm not sure how to turn it around, I end up off the wagon well into the next day.

Letter to a Restaurant

1. Dear _____:

I love the new ________'s menu. The food is tasty, unusual, and fresh. However, I wish you'd bring back those mini-desserts that were so delectable and gave just the right amount of sweet at the end of the meal. OR, I would love to see a calorie-counting-friendly dessert option, such as fresh blackberries sprinkled with sugar and a touch of light whipped cream with a mint garnish, or poached pears with light cardamom ice cream and a drizzle of chocolate.

As you can see, I've given this a good amount of thought.

Warmly,
kStyle

Cheap workout thrills

G. got me one of those handy-dandy iPod arm bands. I got me a jumprope (6.99) and some decent sneaks (24.95) at KMart. Went to the park on this mild February day. Walked around the park once to warm up, stretched a little, and then skipped and hopped away, iPod energizing me with Fischerspooner and Jamiroquai.

Took me a couple songs to get the coordination, but then I was off and jumping. Biceps got sore, calves started complaining, endorphins pushed me on. Lungs worked for it. Once I stopped, I realized my abs had also been working hard, presumably to stabilize the body leaping through space. But the whole thing was fun! Remember when exercise was fun? OK, for me it's always fun, because I swim and dance and walk and canoe and avoid the torture machines, but this was extra-fun. Intense cardio in the outdoors that is not running = yes, please. For some reason, perhaps just because of how my joints are constructed, running hurts my feet and calves, but jumping does not.

Also, jumping rope is a nice way to get in those intervals: Jump for a minute or two, then walk around or do a few push-ups. Jump super-fast, then skip at a leisurely pace.

I will be feeling this tomorrow.

UPDATE, NEXT MORNING: Yeah, OW!

Eating Too Many Calories Is Not a Moral Failing.

I ate too many brownies last week. I made Valentine's brownies for my husband and then ate a lot of them myself. I discovered that all that sugar and chocolate put me on a horrible energy-and-mood roller coaster ride. On Sunday, fatigued, pale, and puffy, I got off the ride. I ate whole grains, nothing refined. I felt better within 24 hours.

I shared my story of brownies and redemption at the WW meeting, and rather to my surprise, the leader congratulated me both for my insight on how the brownies made me feel, and for taking the next step, ie, recovering and moving on. She emphasized throughout the meeting that what you already did is less important than what you do next. I liked that a lot.

Meantime, today my parents took us out for lunch for my birthday. They are so weirdly moralistic about calories. My dad was once overweight and then lost a bunch of weight (using WW without meetings) and has kept it off. Ever since he has had the self-righteousness of the converted, wielding judgment about food, fat, and exercise with a traditional pastor's relish of fire and brimstone.

Mom is currently trying to lose weight. Last time I saw her, she beat herself up all day for eating a spanikopita and then discovering, by looking through my WW food guide, that it was more Points than she thought. She is not even doing Weight Watchers. At the time, she had not even started her own weight loss efforts. For the rest of the day, she went on and on about how awful she felt for eating the spanikopita. Her righteousness is inner-directed, channeled into guilt. "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you..." Over the holidays she made fun of Oprah's weight. I told her not to pick on people for weight. As usual, she felt guilty, but perhaps more powerfully, she felt embarrassed for picking on Oprah because she herself is overweight.

Why is weight an OK target for ridicule? Oh, right! It's NOT! No matter how fat or thin you are!

I'd forgotten some of my folks' strange fat-moralism until my own WW journey began. I mentioned to my mom that in weeks 3-4 I gained 2.4 pounds back, and she was disappointed on a level far beyond what was acceptable. Everyone who's done WW assures me that gains here & there are normal and part of the process; what we're aiming for is an overall downward trajectory over time.

At lunch today, I mentioned a previous lunch FAIL. I had ordered a salad wrap in a food court, thinking it would be more healthful than a delicious, delectable Indian dish, only later to discover that my unsatisfying wrap contained a sneaky 1400 calories. My mom turned pale, and asked, with something akin to terror, what caused all those calories. "The dressing," I replied, matter-of-factly. Dad replied in a moralistic, preachy tone, "Salad dressing is bad. You have to be really careful." I snapped back an "I KNOW." A little support would have been nice, a little, "Wow! That's a crazy salad story! It happens, though." But no, JUDGMENT.

I could go on longer, about how my mom saw me looking hungry waiting for our food at the restaurant and tried to foist more bread on my plate, about other awkward, contradictory food events today, but...eh. I guess I just have to stop talking about my weight loss process with them altogether. Cut 'em off.

Evening treat

San Pellegrino with a drop or two of flavored Stevia drops. ooooh

The results of Points FAIL

I gained 2.5 lbs since my last meeting. I would be lying if I said I were not disappointed and not kicking myself. Intellectually I know I just have to take my lumps and move on, get back on the horse, stiff upper lip. But I'm having a rough couple of weeks.

The disaster that is grade 7 ELA substitute teaching has me feeling like I'm a Bad Teacher and I should Not be making this career move. On the other hand, the lead teacher did try to cajole me into staying the rest of the year, and the other 7th grade teachers also look fed up, wiped out, and exasperated this week. This is one tough group of kids. Again, intellectually, I understand this. But at the end of the day, I feel like a fat, failed teacher.

Emotionally, I'm feeling down, stressed, insecure. Does not help that it's the Worst Time of Year and the Worst Time of Month all at once, a condition for which my friend R. says, "Just write 'S.W.' on the calendar for the week." S.W.? "Suicide Watch," she explained.

Ah, gallows humor, so necessary in mid-February.

Not so hot.

I woke up feeling kind of ill. I think yesterday's feasting did not agree with my insides. I'm not actively sick; it's not like food poisoning. I feel sluggish and like my insides are stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey. I've read that one's system grows used to a lower-fat diet and begins to dislike rich foods. It appears to be true in my case.