I stepped on the scale this morning.  (Now keep in mind, Wednesday's weigh in on my home scale was at 249.)  Today: 245.5.  The semi-switch to core?  The excessive amounts of water?  This new "jogging" habit I've started?  I'm not sure.  But something is working.  AND...I swear, the beast looks...feels, a tad bit smaller.  I'm sure it's all in my imagination...but it does.  AND...I'm on the second to last hole in my belt.  Yay.  One day at a time folks...one day at a time.

For lunch today, I brought a turkey sandwich (4pts total), a bag of pretzel sticks (2pts) and a jello.  I ate half the sandwich at lunch, as well as half of the pretzels.  For whatever reason, I decided to do what (some) skinny people do, and save the other half for later.  I've never understood this crazy practice.  In fact, I've always finished my entire lunch, and had to fight the urge to go back into the cafeteria to get something else because I was still hungry.  And then a light bulb suddenly illuminated inside of my thick skull.

Brain says to me, "You eat too fast."

I say to brain, "No I don't, I'm just always hungry." 

Brain replies, "Perhaps if you'd try eating just a bit slower, you'd find that indeed, you are fuller on a lesser amount of food."

To which I reply, "But how is that possible?"  If I ate 6pts worth of lunch in 10 minutes, or in 30 minutes, it's still just 6pts.  How does the length of time make a difference?"

My brain so politely explains to me, "The human body takes 20 minutes of eating for me to send a signal that you're full.  So, if you eat that sandwich and pretzels in 10 minutes, I haven't sent that signal to tell stomach that you're full.  In this case, you'll continue eating because you haven't received the signal, and thus gain weight.  But, if you take that same amount of food, and eat it slowly...over 30 minutes, you won't need to buy more food to feel full.  You'll not only save money, you'll save calories too.  Do you understand?"

Me to brain, "Well no shit."

I tested this theory out on Saturday afternoon, pre baseball game binge.  (Beer binge is more like it.  There's just something about cold over priced draft beer at a baseball game that tastes so damned good.)  Anyhoo, I made a turkey sandwich (on toast, quite tasty, I might add) with some pretzel sticks, and a Coke Zero.  I took about 30 minutes to eat it, and surfed the web in between bites.  I can honestly say, I was completely satiated by the end of my meal.  What a revelation!  

As I previously mentioned, I overdid it on the beer at the baseball game.  I think I had about 4...(and these weren't 12oz'ers, either)...plus one hot dog and a half an order of fries.  I had saved myself 19pts for the game...which I'm sure I went over with the hot dog and beer...and I have no way to justify it.  I just did.  Plain and simple.  Later that night, we ordered pizza.  Again, I clearly wasn't on the wagon.  Seriously, weekends are my WORST time.  I'm so bad.  Ugh.  I'm weak. 

I'm at the gym this morning, walking on the treadmill.  I'm going at a pace of roughly 3.7mph...incline of like 4.  I'm half listening to music, half reading the book I brought, when some stroke of genius idea pops into my head, "Let's jog."  Now, I've got no cartilage in my right knee (softball injury from high school)...a shifting kneecap in my left knee (once again, softball.  I was a catcher...need I say more?)...and jacked up bones in both feet (that's an even longer, more lame story.  It's something to do with genetics...lack of oxygen.  To sum it up, I have to wear these dorky orthotics in my shoes.  Anyhoo.)---so, I put the treadmill at a negative 3 incline...easy on my knees and feet...and put the speed at 4.5mph.  The last time I remember jogging for an extended period of time, I managed to make it a whopping 7 minutes without stopping.  People, that was quite a feat, let me tell you.  But there was something different about this morning.  I remember glancing at the panel when I first started, and I had already walked about 1.6 miles.  So I mentally told myself, "Self, ha ha ha...let's try to get to 2 miles.  See if you can do it."  Well, I did it.  And then I kept on going.  I upped the speed to 4.6 mph, and kept up the pace.  (Any faster and I would have shot off that machine and slammed ass first into the wall behind me.  Not a pretty picture.)  By some stroke of God, or Buddha...or what have you, I still kept jogging.  I realized ::eventually:: that I had been running, wait...jogging...for at least 20 straight minutes...and the paramedics HAD NOT YET BEEN CALLED!!  My friends, I was getting close to the 3 mile mark.  At 2.9 miles, I had lost my faith.  I was completely drenched in sweat...sports bra giving in under the pressure....I didn't think I was going to make it.  But something inside of me told me to keep going.  Don't be a quitter.  Finish this.  And I did. 

In the end, I did a total of 3.11 miles, burned 504 cals, and was on the treadmill for 51 minutes.  The walk back to the mats to stretch...to the locker room to shower...well, for the first few hours of the day...interesting.  It's just about 1pm...and I still feel shitty.  Not nearly has bad as I felt the first few hours of the morning.  I felt like some Goomba's were roughing me up in some back Brooklyn alley.  (I guess when you run, and this is pure speculation, you unconsciously tighten your abs?  Any runners out there?  Am I right?)  Christ almighty I'm hurting.  But, it's a good hurt.  It's a hurt with a sense of accomplishment.  

In other news, I stepped on the scale this morning.  248.  I keep going up.  What the fuck?  I'm sure a bit of it is the lifting I did yesterday.  I was sore just from that.  And, I did go over my pts by roughly five, dipping into my flex pts...putting me at around 10 for the week.  But still.  Even though I know that in the grand scheme of life that .5 lbs isn't the end of the world, but you can't help but feel like a bit of a failure when that number creeps up...even if it's for reasons beyond your control.  I think the ideal way to track weight loss would be to actually measure yourself each and every day.  Yes, technically you could do this, but it would be time consuming.  Hmmmm...perhaps I've found my nitch.  :)

So far today, I've had 13pts.  I get 32 total.  I'm saving the other 19 for going out tonight...it...dinner...beer etc.  Melissa and I (former roomie...dear friend) are going to see Shrek and going for dinner and drinks.  Gotta have a girl's night every now and again, ya know?  

Well folks, I'm going to do some work.  Overrated, I know...but alas, something has to pay for my lavish lifestyle.  (Ask me about closing my car door on Wednesday.  Priceless.)  Ta ta for now.

So I made vegetable soup last night.  I'm talking, from scratch, fresh veggies and all.  (You'll soon come to realize how much I LOATHE cooking.)  About 2 months ago, we had a "Biggest Loser" contest here at work.  For the final week prior to the last weigh in, I did the cabbage soup diet.  It's not something I'm proud of, but it worked.  I ended up losing 12lbs that week, and won second place.  ($200.00, which I used to join WW.  Crafty of me, wasn't it?)  Anyhoo, back to the soup.  I hate vegetables, with an intense passion...and any way I can get them down my throat without gagging...bring it on.  When I did the cabbage soup, I actually liked it.  (By day 4, the smell was emerging through my pores...and I wasn't so keen on it...which I'm sure you can understand.)  So, I decided to make another batch...as a way to get my veggies in, and get things "moving," if you will.  :)  I used 12 cups of water...2 packages of onion soup mix...fresh onion, garlic...and a dozen different kind of veggies.  It looked gorgeous...I was really proud of myself.

After I let it simmer for a bit, I dished myself a small sample.  Ick.  Totally bland.  Now, I'm not a salt person at all.  I've added salt to my food maybe 2x in my life.  But this crap...it needed it.  So, I added some garlic salt.  (I wouldn't make a very good vampire.)  I ate a small bowl of the soup...and it wasn't bad.  For me.  It won't be winning awards any time soon...but it's edible.

I wake up today, and look at my eyes.  They are insanely puffy....they look like I'd been up all night fighting with the bf and crying.  (Something I'm accustomed to.  Not fighting like physical fighting...just the typical arguing couples do...you know how it goes.)  I step on the scale.  I'm up one lb.  I step off.  I step on again.  Still up a pound.  I try one more time...thinking that the third time is the charm.  Not gonna happen today.  Could it seriously be that bit of salt I had in the soup?  Or the one beer I had? I have no idea.  Something sure was the culprit though.  I had (I think) about 96oz of water as well...so who the hell knows.  I'm going to eat more soup tonight...and we'll see what happens come tomorrow morning.

On a good note, I finally made it back to the gym this morning.  I hadn't been since last Friday, which is highly unlike me.  I've had trouble sleeping the past few nights, and I just couldn't wake myself up in time to go.  I'm glad I went today...I feel good.  I lifted...for about 45 minutes...love lifting.  As I've stated on a few DWLZ posts, I don't like cardio.  I'll do it...on my off days, but I don't like it.  (I only like to run if I'm being chased.)  I've heard so many conflicting view points on what type of exercise to do when trying to lose weight.  Some people swear by cardio.  Some people only lift.  When I lost the 100lbs, I was with Curves.  I loved that place, despite that fact that 95% of the clientele were at least 20 years older than me.  I went there for a little over a year...then got to a point where I didn't think it was doing much for me.  (Now that I think about it, I'm not sure.  I stayed up late one night and got sucked into these DVD's, which of course, I purchased.  Will power and myself aren't the closest of chums.)  They were called Power 90 (a Beach Body production) and they were pretty good.  You wouldn't think so to look at them, but they gave you a decent workout.  After I tired of those, I went to the local rec center in my hometown...then I'd mix and match.  I'd try to move every day.  And after much debate, I joined Lifetime Fitness in February....and let me tell you, I love that place.  (Lifetime, if you're reading this...can I get a free windbreaker for plugging your place?  C'mon!)   Long story short (I'm the queen of being long winded...you'll soon get used to that)...I'm in limbo.  I consider what I did at Curves to be a majority lifting.  My cousin on the other hand, also doing ww, has lost roughly 50lbs so far this year...and insists that the only thing he does is walk 4miles a day on the treadmill.  I would love to do that, but I can't...for 2 reasons.  First and foremost, it bores the hell out of me.  And secondly, I don't want lose skin.  I know that you need to tone your body as you're losing weight, to avoid the saggy skin syndrome.  (That sounds like a really lame club.  "I'm part of the triple S, Biotch!"  Seriously, I need to stop.)  So what do I do?  When it comes to weights vs cardio, what's the winner?  Anybody out there who's had success at this cruel joke known as weight loss, please let me know what you've done.  I'm curious to hear the responses. 

251.5 this morning.  Actually, I was 246.5 on my bathroom scale, but I've noticed that every other scale I step on (I'm totally serious) weighs me 5lbs heavier.  (It figures, doesn't it?  I can never catch a break).  So, 101.5lbs to my goal.  Since I haven't been under 200lbs since...oh Christ...probably Jr. High, I wonder what size that would be?  In fact, the 18's that I currently wear (and the one random pair of 16's that managed to squeeze themselves into my collection, no pun intended, of course) are the smallest pants I've owned since I started this whole insane journey.  

So let me ask you, what size will I be?  My goal is 150lbs.  I'm around 5'6" tall...have very broad sholders...no ass what so ever....I'm all stomach.  I've got chubby thighs...and insanely muscular calves (man legs, as the bf so kindely refers to them as).  My arms are...getting there.  They could definitely stand to lose a few inches, but they aren't circus worthy.  Basically, it's all my stomach.  This giant Michelin situated firmly around my waste.  Lucky me.  Sometimes I ask myself if I'd rather be one of those big girls with the really huge ass, or have the big belly, like me.  Honestly, I don't know.  Any thoughts?

If you've parused the picture of me I have so kindly attached to this blog, (and haven't yacked yet) this was me at my heaviest, well over 300lbs.  I think I was only about 22 or so.  It's so sad to think that I let myself get that big.  To be honest...I never felt as big as I was.  I didn't have any health problems...played sports...in fact, for my size, I was rather athletic.  Granted, I did live with the usual social problems that big gals live with.  I was forced to wear hideous clothing...my "male social life" was a tad different from normal sized ladies.  (I'll get more into that later.)  I had minor self esteem issues...but all in all, I wasn't completely miserable.  Or so I thought.  Now that I look at some of these pictures, it just floors me.  I can't believe I looked like that.  And believe me, I've got a ways to go to look like what I desire...but from where I started, that's a long way, baby.  (I put on my size 26 jeans, and 26/28 top last night...the official inspirational "before clothes" that I keep around.  :)  It puts such a smile on my face to have these articles of clothing drape off of me.  Hard work does pay off.  I can't wait for the day when I'm FINALLY at my goal weight, and I can put on the pants I'm wearing right now...see those bad boys fall down to my ankles.  That my friends, will be the ultimate victory.