Here We Go Again

Because I'm a sucker for those online deal sites, and because I'm once again motivated to lose the extra person I'm carrying around, I purchased a Living Social deal for a local weight loss center.  Basically it entails me going to this place twice a week- once for a weigh-in and once for a B-12 shot.  The deal was for a month, so we'll see how it goes.  They gave me a diet plan, which consists of one of their protein supplements and an egg in the morning, a salad and a supplement for lunch, and a protein, salad, and veggie for dinner.  I'm not eating meat now, because the HCG put me off of it, so I'm trying to find suitable veggie dinners.  I'm not supposed to have dairy, I guess, because there is no mention of cheese anywhere, but I am using cheese as a protein substitute in my dinners.

This is day 4, and I've been really good, so I feel like at this point I may stick to it, so it's safe to post about.  I don't exactly have the best track record with weight loss success, so I'm hoping the whole monitoring aspect will be the key to making me stick to it.  I have an innate desire to please strangers for whatever reason, so this appeals to that part of my psyche.

In preparation for beginning this plan, I indulged on this as a last meal:

And it was fucking delicious. Especially considering this is what I'm eating now: 

 These boxes contain packets of powder that, when mixed with water, become the main entree for breakfast and lunch.  I supplement with lunch with these:

Your mouth is watering, right?  In all honesty, the protein powdery things aren't so bad.  I have an orange one that tastes like Tang (hee hee "tang") in the morning, and I have a caramel pudding one for "dessert" for lunch.  They have a bunch to choose from, so I'm going to try some different ones when I go back tomorrow.

I am also drinking enough water to float the Titanic, and I am limited to 2 diet sodas per day, which I was thrilled to learn I am still allowed to have.  The beauty of this plan is that it takes the guess work out of what I will have to eat for most of the day.  I only have to plan my dinners.  Apparently I work better in a controlled environment, because I have really had no problems sticking to this thing at all.  Hopefully my efforts will be rewarded at my next weigh-in.

Karma's a Bitch, and So Was She

Even though I made the decision to go back to HR, and I know it's the right decision for myself and my family, I spent yesterday in a funk.  I was supposed to be in the orientation for my nuclear med program yesterday, but instead I spent time going through all the paperwork for the program as well as the 2, count 'em 2, jobs that I attempted and failed in the medical field.  The thing is, I could have been terrific at both and would have made an amazing Nurse or Nuclear Med Tech, but I couldn't get out of my own head.  I spent the entire time in school, at clinical, in those jobs thinking what am I going to do if  when I kill someone?  I ultimately made the decision that I do not want to be responsible for more people's lives than I have to be.  I've already got 3 little nuggets to shape and form into well-adjusted, productive adults.  I need to concentrate on them and leave healthcare to the professionals.

Anwho, I think part of my foul mood yesterday was feeling like I'm having to go back, tail between my legs, to a career that I never really enjoyed.  I left my last job on the worst of terms, so much so that it completely fueled my decision to go back to school and ditch the industry permanently.  I spent 3 and a half years at my last company, and the last 2 and a half were a daily exercise in torment and abuse.  My manager was a master at skirting the line between operating within her legal rights and flat out harassment.  Spending every day on edge wondering what I would possibly do wrong to incur her disappointment, or many days, wrath, was pure torture, and I was so ecstatic the day I walked out of there for good.

So, throughout this whole decision-making process, my last job has been hanging over my head as a reminder that maybe they don't want me back.  Not my previous company, of course (they definitely don't), but HR in general.  But, I have been talking to an HR Director about a possible position that would be an amazing career opportunity.  It would be more visibility and responsibility than my last job, and I think I could do wonderful things.  I already like her so much, because she seems very smart, but more importantly, concerned for the good of the company instead of her own career.  All of the women in management at my last job were horrible, back-biting bitches.  I get a very different vibe from this organization.  Nothing is set in stone, and likely won't be until mid-summer, if it works out, but I already feel more valued and appreciated.

The icing on the cake came today when my neighbor, who I didn't realize works for my old company, happened to mention that they posted my old position.  The person who replaced me has been there for less than 2 years is already leaving.  It's not just me.  It's everyone who has to work in that area.  While I was there, there was close to 100% turnover on my team at least twice.  But for some reason, the fact that the girl who replaced me has come and gone means that much more.  I don't know why it matters, but it does.  I feel like a weight has been lifted, and this is a sign that I will be ok.  It really wasn't me.

Back From the Dead

So, over the last month, I've endured tests, final exams, a raging sinus infection that turned into a wicked case of vertigo, field trips with the kids, and dropping out of school.  Well, not dropping out as much as deciding to forego this whole medical career thing in favor of going back to my old career, which I don't suck at, and bringing in some much needed income to the house.  I thought and thought and thought some more and decided to be ok with the fact that I'm really good at Human Resources and way to skittish to work in the medical field in that I lack the attention to detail, emergency response skills, and ability to quiet my emotions that are required to be a medical professional.  I thought I wanted a career that really made a difference and helped people.  I decided I can do that from an HR perspective just as well but without all the blood on my hands if something goes wrong.  So, decision made.  Now all I need is the job.

Until then, this is the kind of shit I'm doing in between hanging with my 3yo and shuttling the older kids back and forth:

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebrities

I thought this was the funniest.  My closest match was this chick, who I had to Google.  She's Asian, and I'm  of a very pasty European descent, so I don't even know how that happened:

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celebrity

And it probably goes without saying, but I am not doing the crackhead diet anymore, and I'm still a big chunky.  I'm tired of thinking about it, so I am eating healthier for the most part and not obsessing.  I haven't put on a bathing suit, yet, though, so things may change.

Sayonara Saboteur

Throughout all of my many many MANY weight loss attempts, one factor contributing to my failure remains constant- my scale.  I get obsessed with it.  Every stall, or worse, gain (gasp!), creates a feeling of failure, and as an emotional eater, guess where I turn.  I stepped on the scale for the last time yesterday morning.  I'm still at a 9 pound weight loss, which is frustrating, because although I haven't been sticking to the ridiculous 500 calorie daily limit, I am eating an average of about 1000-1200 calories per day, which should still be restrictive enough for me to continue losing.  Whether I'm losing inches instead or just at a stall, that number is a daily reminder of how far I am away from being the healthy person I want to be.  Instead of focusing on the number, from now on, I'm going to focus on my fitness and energy levels.  I have been feeling much better since I've started eating cleaner, cutting carbs, and increased my calorie intake from the first week on the diet.  Oh, and I did walk with the entire family yesterday afternoon and discovered that my near death experience on Tuesday must have resulted from the heat, because I did much better with the cooler temp and overcast sky.  Anywho, I will weigh myself again at some point, but I will probably wait until I can feel a definite difference in my clothes, so whatever number pops up won't make or break my fitness plans.

Training Day 1: Dramatic Description of Events

Well, I did it.  I stuck by my word and started my training plan, and I almost goddamn died.  I spent 75% of the time convinced that I was going to throw up, pass out, or both.  These are the thoughts that went through my brain:

"Hey, this isn't so bad.  But it is kind of warm outside."
"Boy, that first hill was rough, but good for me for getting out here and moving."
"Geez, this second hill is really tough, and it's really getting hot out here."
"I'm glad I have my Ipod, although R.E.M.'s 'Bad Day' isn't very motivational when you're breathing heavy."
"I think I'm going to jog for a bit, since I'm going downhill anyway."
"Fuck.  That was a mistake. I'm walking from here on out."
"Jesus, I love Mumford and Sons, but 'The Cave' is kind of demotivating, and I'm starting to get suicidal."
"Thank God for Ke$ha, and Victoria's terrible taste in music, because my shit is too heavy to exercise to."
"Holy balls, why did I decide to walk in the middle of lunch hour, and why is there no breeze?"
"Oh my God, this was a mistake.  I think I'm going to die, but I will get to the end of the neighborhod."
"Yay for LMFAO and their stupid music.  I might just make it after all."
"I am too fat and out of shape for this shit."
"Oh my God, why did I walk to the end of the neighborhood?  Now I have to walk all the way back."
"Uh oh.  I am definitely going to vomit.  I can feel it in my throat.  Just keep moving, and keep your head down."
"Is is possible for your heart to actually explode in your chest, because I'm pretty sure that's about to happen."
"Fuck you, LMFAO.  You're not sexy, and you definitely don't work out.  You're skinny nerds with ridiculous hair and clothes. Why am I listening to you?"
"Why did I leave my cell phone at home?  How am I going to call the EMT when my heart explodes?"
"Here comes the vomit train again. I refuse to hop on board."
"I am definitely going to pass out.  Which patch of grass looks the softest?"
"Keep moving, or else these people are going to find you passed out in their yard."
"Oh my God, another fucking hill!  You have got to be kidding me!"
"This was the worst mistake of my life.  I cannot believe how much this feels like torture.  It's worse than that time I smoked that spice shit and thought I was going to die, because I really am going to die this time."
"Oh, thank God I can see my van from here!"
"Maintain.  Maintain.  Maintain.  You're almost there, and you can pass out on your couch."
"Jesus, I made it!  Oh, thank God!  Damn, I have to do this shit all over again on Thursday."

So, there you go.  I literally thought I would die the entire second half of my walk.  And I only walked 2.5 miles for 40 minutes.  But, at least I got off my lazy ass and did something.  So, the game plan for Thursday is to make sure I'm super hydrated, go earlier in the morning, and make sure I've eaten something to give me some fuel, because this was seriously the worst physical experience I can remember in a long time.  It's been an hour and a half since I finished, and my legs still feel like a baby deer's trying to learn to walk, my heart is finally slowing down, and my hearing is beginning to return.  I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure I had a stroke.

The Quest to be Thin

Holy God.  Did you see this news story today?  It was on a couple of the morning shows and Yahoo! is running it, too.  Apparently stupid bitches (much like myself) are so determined to lose some extra poundage before their wedding day that they're subjecting themselves to tube feeding.  What. The. Fuck.  I thought my ass was crazy.  But, you know what's really insane?  These chicks are still ingesting more than the 500 calories I'm supposed to be eating on my plan.  They get a big, bad 800 calorie feeding per day, but they look like freak shows with tubes hanging off their faces in the meantime.  One issue I have with this is that my limited time in nursing school taught me that NG tubes pose infection risks with the whole foreign object being inserted into the body thing.  That's why they're placed in hospitals and removed before the patient goes home.  I mean, I'm sure there are folks who are sickly that have these gadgets at home, but they're not up and walking around Wal Mart or whatever freaking everyone out and picking up God knows what disease.

My other issue is why can't these bitches crash diet like the rest of us?  It's insane, and I mean all of it- crash diets, fad diets, surgical procedures, etc.  What have we come to that we'd rather starve ourselves and butcher our bodies rather than put down the ice cream carton and bag of potato chips and get our asses off the couch and walk for 30 minutes a day?  It's the immediate gratification that we crave.  That's the problem.  No one, myself included, wants to put in the time and effort it takes to do it the right way.

Well, starting tomorrow, I'm no longer in the crazy group.  I am going to start running.  And by that, I mean wogging (walk/jogging).  I plan to build up slowly to the point where I can run a full half marathon.  I have my eye on this one.  Ideally, I'd like to plan a vacation for the whole family centered around my run, but I don't know what my job/school situation will be then.  Regardless, I'm determined to at least be physically able to do it by then.  It's almost a year away, so I'm going against my natural instincts and not setting a goal that's too aggressive.  I'm going to modify my current diet to allow for more calories and possible whole grains, if I determine that my body needs them for energy to exercise.  I will continue with the hcg, though, because as I said before, that shit is expensive.

Week 2 Check In and Some Truth

So far, I've lost 9 pounds, which is great, but I'm really having a hard time getting past how moronic this whole plan is.  I'm torn between doing what I know I should do and sticking to this retarded plan because I dropped so much cash on it, and I hate to waste money.  One thing I'm not doing is eating 500 cals per day.  I'm probably between 750 and 1000, which is still not as much as you're supposed to eat, but it's better than 500 measly calories a day. I really want to start running, so if I do that, I have to eat more.

If anyone is reading this and thinking of trying hcg, I would advise against it.  It's not that I'm starving all the time (I'm really not) or that I feel deprived.  It's more because it's expensive to get the real stuff (the homeopathic stuff is shit), you're not encouraged to exercise, and you're training your body to depend on such a low calorie amount, that when you increase your intake, the weight you lost is bound to come screaming back.  I know that there are people that do this and keep the weight off, but they do ridiculous shit to keep their weight in check.  Things like "steak days" which consist of not eating anything all day and then having a steak for dinner with a tomato.  Or egg days, where you eat a dozen eggs throughout the day, prepared however you like.  And these people swear by this method and are very defensive when people point out how stupid it is.

The allure of the hcg diet is the quick weight loss, which is what sucked me in.  I was hoping to use it as a jump start to get me going on my journey.  I have, in essence, given myself an eating disorder.  I weigh myself constantly to keep myself in check to make sure I'm losing weight.  I feel good when I deprive myself from one of the only 2 fruit servings I get per day, because I feel like it will help me lose weight faster.  I'm too exhausted to be productive around the house, but I'm terrified to eat any more than I am, because I don't want the pounds I've lost to come creeping back.

I'm a third of the way through this ridiculous ordeal, and as much as I want to get my money's worth, I'm tempted to say fuck it, up my calories, and starting walking, because when I lose the extra person I'm carrying, I want to be able to say I did it the healthy way, not the psycho starvation fad diet way.  And when I lose this, I want it gone for good.  I don't want to spend every day of the rest of my life obsessed with the scale.  That, to me, seems more miserable than being fat, so what's the point?