IF I’M DEAD TOMORROW……It was worth it!

 

My Harley Stud and I celebrated my ten pound weight loss this morning with a scrumptious buttermilk blueberry pancake (or is that blueberry buttermilk pancake?) breakfast complete with sugar-free syrup, sausage (lite) and fresh melon with coffee.  It was…

TO.DIE.FOR.

and I mean that literally. 

Let’s forget the irony of the somewhat destructive choice of celebrating weight-loss with food indulgences, there is another destructive concern at play here.  (Don’t be fooled by that sugar-free syrup and lite sausage.  It is still sausage and eating four of these pancakes cannot be considered light even when they are accompanied by sugar-free syrup and Smart Balance instead of butter.)

Quite by accident, about a year ago, I stumbled across a recipe for buttermilk pancakes.  We tried it and since that day nothing else will do.  We used to just buy the box mix and add water and sometimes an egg but no more.  We are hooked.  Nothing else will do. 

We don’t make pancakes every weekend but we make them quite often so I always try to keep buttermilk on hand.  When we decided to make pancakes this morning, we discovered that the buttermilk in the fridge had an expiration date of Feb 5th. 

…..but I really wanted pancakes.  I opened it and gave it a sniff.  It smelled like buttermilk.  Isn’t buttermilk half spoiled anyway?  What does bad buttermilk smell like?  I surely don’t know.  …..and I really wanted pancakes. 

So my recipe calls for 3 cups of buttermilk.  I only had 2 cups.  I figured that I could counteract any icky after-life properties of the expired buttermilk with substituting cream and skim milk to make up the difference. 

Might I say that they were the best darn pancakes we’ve ever had.  And if we don’t survive the night, it will soooooo be worth it.  And just to be sure that the recipe doesn’t die with me, I’ve included it below for your culinary enjoyment.  I will leave it up to you to use fresh or expired buttermilk.

 

Buttermilk Pancakes

3 cups flour

3 TBS white sugar

1 TBS baking powder

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

3 cups buttermilk (or 2 cups buttermilk 15 days past expiration date mixed with 1/2 cup heavy cream and 1/2 cup skim milk)

1/2 cup milk

3 eggs

1/3 cup butter melted

1 tsp vanilla

Mix the dry and wet ingredients separately and then combine.  For uniform pancakes, use a gravy ladle to spoon onto buttered griddle.  You know the rest. 

*Disclaimer*

These pancakes are a little more work than adding water to a box mix but are truly worth the effort.  Be warned.  Easy box mix pancakes will never do once you’ve tried these little discs of yumminess.

 

Hugs and Kisses,

SMB

AUNT MARTHA, CHILDBIRTH, MENOPAUSE AND NOW THIS….

I went to the doctor with My Harley Stud today for his physical. She suggested that he try to lose 5 lbs. FIVE POUNDS! I hate him. She told me to lose thirty.

And to add insult to injury: Today at lunch, I swear the escalator at Dillards groaned when I stepped on.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

THE SECRET TO WEIGHT LOSS

All this time, I've been banging my head against the wall, searching for the motivation, failing and picking myself up to try again. Little did I know that all I had to do to find the sticktoitiveness to succeed at my diet/fitness plan was to go to the doctor. Dr. Black Cloud supplied with me with all the information necessary to conclude that I need to get fit and thin PDQ or I should start shopping for burial plots, I can look forward to an old age filled with disease and medications that will surely bankrupt me. Bottom line: Dr. Black Cloud is scaring me skinny.

Since making the executive decision to switch my family to the South Beach Diet way of eating, I've lost 14 lbs. My Harley Stud has also lost 14 lbs. This really ticks me off I'm so happy for him and God bless his soul, he isn't even trying and is losing the same amount by default. You see, he eats whatever I cook in the evening and eats however he pleases throughout the day. However, I don't buy sugary, high fat treats so he has less to choose from. Still and all, he is matching me pound for pound without any apparent effort and THAT IS SO UNFAIR isn't it wonderful!

I still have a long way to go but I am optimistic that I can still lose another 10 lbs before my class reunion. I still won't be at goal but finally moving in the right direction works just fine for me.

Daughter #1 has made it her personal mission to kill me, drag me all over the county to walk 4 miles a day, oversee my food and beverage consumption like the food nazi that she is (She hates that name) get me in better shape before my reunion.

Oh and by the way, wii wii no longer shouts to the heavens in his way too cheerful fashion that I'm OBESE! I am now just merely OVERWEIGHT. The damn wii wii still makes the announcement with a smile on his face and isn't even aware that he's in danger of having a remote shoved up his arse. Stupid wii wii!

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

SMB-READY TO SERVE IF CALLED

Last week I told you about how Daughter #1 is home for the summer and has become the Food Nazi. She has placed the whole family on THE ZONE. Better known by me as THE DAMN ZONE. As in when someone offers me a cookie at work, I politely decline saying, “No thanks, I’m in THE DAMN ZONE.”

D1’s US Navy connection says that many Navy Seals eat on the Zone Diet to achieve maximum performance in their training. The way I see it, between my fitness regimen with the Wii Wii, THE DAMN ZONE and the time I spend at the shooting range, I’ll be ready should the Navy Seals need my assistance for any special ops. And if my call to duty comes when I have PMS like I did this month, I could end the war on terror in 24 hours. Just sayin’.

“Mr. President, I am equal to the task.”

I’ve been giving D1 a lot of crap about taking control of our daily intake but the truth is that as much as I’ve been saying that I want to lose weight, I’ve gotten nowhere in the last year. It was time someone took the bull by the horns. My very first post almost a year ago proclaimed my committment to fitness, weight loss and health improvement. I’ve been dedicated to my fitness routine. I must have the metabolism of a slug because nothing seems to work.

D1 had her hairs cut and hi-lighted yesterday. She went to my stylist, Stacy. She was explaining to Stacy how she has put us all in the Zone. D1 says Stacy was very concerned about my welfare. She said, “Your mom really likes to have a glass of wine at night, can she have that?” I was thrilled to hear that someone has my back.

The answer, in case you’re wondering, is that yes, I CAN have a glass of wine, I just have to be sure to have a slice of turkey and a few nuts too. I can live with that.

The DAMN ZONE may seem a bit extreme but really I’m eating the same things I was eating before but in different portions. The Zone is 30% fat, 30% protein and 40% carbs. Not so bad, it’s just that every time you eat anything, you have to make sure that you have all three components. Kind of like……………..if you give a mouse a cookie………….you have to give him a glass of milk. Only not as good.

I’m not gonna lie. I miss butter. Last night’s shrimp scampi was really good but it would have been bettah with buttah! My butt will be bettah without it and there you have it. The problem is that when I don’t get results, I give up and give in. My stick-to-itiveness has lost its sticky. Does anyone out there have the secret glue that will help me stick to the plan?

On a brighter note: Wii Wii says I’m 34 years old. Of course Wii Wii also says this EVERYDAY:

• You’re obese! And dang if it doesn’t say it very cheerfully. Wii Wii apparently doesn’t know that SMB has a gun and knows how to use it.
• You’re lazy and stupid! OK, what it actually said was, “You’re going to have to work harder and smarter to reach your goal.” Stupid Wii Wii
• You ARE poetry in motion. Suck up!
• I’ve got nothing but respect for your performance. It’s about time I got some respect.
• Too slow. Grrrrr
• You’re taking to this track like you OWN it! Now THAT’s what I’m talkin’ about.

I’ve got a 30 year class reunion (Never mind that I’m only 34 ) at the end of August. Please, Lord! Is it wrong to pray for weight loss? Does it count that I promise to serve my country when the navy seals call? I promise to work for world peace. That’s got to be worth something, right? And just so you know, I don’t have to be super-model thin. Don’t even want to be. I just want to be a better SMB. A more fit SMB. And if you could lift all that sags, I would greatly appreciate it. Amen.

THE GRINGA IN THE BACK

After the talk I had with myself on Monday, there was no getting around going to the gym after work. I’m usually able to get out of the office on Mondays at a reasonable time and make it to my favorite class, Latin Impact. It’s basically aerobic dance exercise using Latin music and Latin moves. The class is taught by a very nice woman who is incredibly fit and probably close to my age. English is her second language and most of the class is taught in Spanish. That’s OK with me because I’m fluent understand directional queues in Spanish like right, left, forward, back, look, Not that way, STUPID!

I didn’t make it to class last week but after taking this class the week before, I couldn’t walk without pain for three days. Yet another indication of how badly out of shape I am.

I should probably point out here that I have a fair amount of rhythm, I can dance. I’ve taken a few dance classes, performed in the Dolphin’s half-time show, had a part as a party guest in the Nutcracker which required dancing, etc. I’m not completely without any dance ability. Until.it.comes.to.Latin.moves. Ay Caramba! My hips just don’t want to move like that.

The class starts and I’m smiling, happy to be out of the office, and feel good about taking that first step to get back on the diet/exercise wagon. The instructor is a natural. She starts with the warm up and the hips are going. I’m enjoying myself and feeling pretty good about being able to keep up even if the hips aren’t cooperating. The class progresses into the cardio segment. She’s taking us all around the room, right, left, back and forth, diagonally forward and back, turning around. Oh yeah, Ms. Tiny Dancer loves to make us turn around and around to the point that I’m almost dizzy. The worst part about turning around is the wall of windows. I always stand in the back. I don’t mind if I laugh at me but I would hate to have to hurt someone don’t want others laughing at me. So around and around we go and don’t think for a minute that there aren’t men people suddenly lined up to use the machines right by the window. I smile as I turn because I’ll be damned if I’m going to show that I have no idea what I’m doing even though it’s quite obvious I’m nice like that.

By the middle of the class, I’m still smiling but I’ve figured out that leftover roasted brussel sprouts aren’t the thing to eat for lunch on Latin Impact Monday. I’ve figured out that the teacher doesn’t have a plan. I don’t think she has choreographed this class. But she has developed a strategy. “As soon as the gringa in the back figures out what we’re doing, change it.”

And as if it’s not bad enough that I’m the only one in the class whose hips can’t move independently from the rest of her body, I’ve got what appears to be blonde Cheryl Burke (Dancing with the Stars) right in front of me. The problem with having “Cheryl” in front of me is that I’m competitive a follower inspired by greatness. Having this woman in front of me raises the bar. I’m trying harder. And it ain’t pretty.

At one point in the class we were expected to shake our booty in a circular motion really fast while waiving our arms in the air in a opposite circular motion. What the……? While this might be attractive in a hip-hop sort of way on a young girl with a cute booty, on me……….not so much.It’s like that old pat your head and rub your belly sort of thing. I’m sure I could get it if they slowed it down to a waltz tempo but seriously….? Not happening. Let me tell you there is nothing sadder than a white girl desperately trying to shake her booty, waive her arms, while burping roasted brussel sprouts, attempting to do it with style like “Cheryl” and smile at the boys thru the window because everybody knows, “You never let em see you sweat”. Alas, the sweat, the terror on my face, and the complete lack of Latin vibe was all too obvious.

By the end of the class, I was no longer smiling, I didn’t care what the boys thought, I hated Cheryl and I was thinking very mean thoughts about Ms. Tiny Dancer. I stared at the clock, willing it to move faster so I could be done with this whole mess.

The class was finally over. Ms. Tiny Dancer thanked us for coming, praised us for doing such a good job and told us we were very smart women to be able to follow her directions. It’s amazing what a few nice words can do. I’ll be back next Monday. It’s my favorite class.

ONE DAY AT A TIME, MY ARSE! I want it NOW!

By now, you've probably seen the cover of this week's People magazine. You know the one with little Valerie Bertinelli, the girl we all loved in One Day at a Time. She is 48 now, soon to be 49 years old and revealed her smokin' hot, new body, in a bikini no less, on the cover. Yeah, I hate her. But seriously, good for her. This struck a chord with me because we are the same age. Well, she's a bit older. *smirk*

Ironically the People magazine arrived in my office mailbox yesterday: The very same day that I woke up, took one look in the mirror and said, "Who the hell are you?" I didn't recognize the face staring back at me. I look like crap! There are bags under my eyes that you could pack for a month long vacation. There are lines on my face that would give MapQuest a run for its money. I don't even want to talk about my grey roots. Does anyone know how to get your hair to stop growing? Oh and let's not forget the mini me that's attached itself to my mid-section. Oh yeah, there's a whole other person cohabitating with my body. I've got proof. Just look at the scale. Wait! Stop! You're just going to have to take my word for it on that. Bottom line: I've come to the realization that I'm no longer pushing forty. I'm draggin it.

It took a while but I finally got over the shock of this over-night transformation, (Don't tell me it didn't happen overnight. That's my story and I'm stickin to it.) So I sat myself down and had a talk with myself. It went something like this:

Me: "Damn, girl! You've really let yourself go."

Me also: "Go where? Where are we going? "

*Apparently the new me is not only a wreck, she's also stupid. Grrr.*

Me: "We've got to do something about this. What do you propose that we do?"

Me also: "I like donuts. Can we go get donuts?"

Me: "That's it. You're going back to the gym today! You're going back on the South Beach Diet" There is no excuse for a woman your age to let herself go like this, Do you hear me, Soldier?"

Me also: "Does that mean we can't stop at Dunkin Donuts? Not even for a muffin?"

Me: "You are really thick, you know it?"

So then I get to the office and see cutesy, little Ms. Bertinelli on the cover. That might have p*ssed off a weaker woman. Not me! It just strengthened my resolve. If VB can do it by her 49^th birthday, by gosh, so can I. *Oh dear Lord, have I lost my mind?*

I've got until December 2009 to literally get my rear in gear. I'm going to start drinking more water and less wine beer coffee. I'm going to get more rest. I'm going to hit the gym or exercise elsewhere vigorously 4-5 times a week. I am going to follow the South Beach Diet because it works for me when I actually follow it. I'm not saying that I'll be modeling any bikini come December but mark my words:

I will be a smaller, fitter, crankier happier Smart Mouth Broad.

And I'll be doing it all…….One Day at a Time.

NAMASTE

I made it to Yoga (aka Yogurt class) today. You might have heard me mention that I joined a new gym because it offered more classes and was closer to my office making it more difficult for me to talk myself out of going on the 30 second drive there. I left my office early today to try the yoga class. I have very little experience with yoga but there are a few things I know for sure:

1. Yoga is harder than it looks.
   
2. I am wound up tighter than a top.
   
3. It's not acceptable to laugh out loud at yourself when you can't assume the pose. (I learned this lesson the hard way.)
   
4. Yoga improves your flexibility and that is something that we all need to work on as we get older.
   
5. It's hard for me to remain silent for an hour.
   
6. There are some positions that this body just doesn't want to assume no matter how much I will it to go there.
   
7. Yoga reminds me of a very somber hokey pokey and that makes me laugh which is of course…..is not tolerated.
   
8. It's hard to ignore belly fat when your nose is in your navel.
   
9. If you let me lie there for too long, I'm going to fall asleep.
   
10. It's hard to find your inner peace when you had to cut off two cars and scare the crap out of three pedestrians to make it to class on time.
    

There are a lot of things I need to know about yoga but we'll start with just 10: (Braja, are you out there?)

1. What in the name of stretch pants and bottled water is a chakra and why does it have so many colors?
   
2. Will it eventually become clear to me how to breathe AND twist myself into a pretzel at the same time?
   
3. Is it considered bad form to yell BOOYAH when you finally make it to the toes you've been reaching toward for an hour?
   
4. Don't be fooled by the title of this post. I have no idea what that word means. So?……….. what does it mean?
   
5. It does get easier, right?
   
6. Is it possible that maybe yoga just isn't for everyone? (Even though I really want to do this.)
   
7. What makes yoga pants…..yoga pants?
   
8. When people say "hot yoga", are they referring to the temperature in the room or the participants in the class?
   
9. Why "hot yoga"?
   
10. Is there something that I should know but I'm so clueless that I don't even know to ask?
    

If you are a yoga instructor, take yoga classes, or stumbled in a class once and can answer any or all of my questions, please leave a comment here. If you are as clueless as I am, please tell me that too. I don't like to walk alone.

I MISS BUTCH

I miss Butch. I'm lost. Seriously. One day and I'm hooked. Never mind the fact that in this economy I'm afraid to spend even a dollar that I don't have to because I don't know where the next dime is coming from. Never mind that the cost of a personal trainer is like a car payment. Never mind that for the past 48 hours, I've found it hard to rise from or lower into a seated position. Never mind that the bastard threw my age in my face. Before Monday, I never knew what I was missing. But now……………well……………..there's no going back.

No, I'm not going to hire Butch as my personal trainer unless I win the lottery. But I would REALLY like to. And since I don't buy tickets, winning the lottery is not likely. Butch made it interesting. I'll just long for the day when money is no object. Butch pushed me. Butch ridiculed me. OK, maybe I don't miss that part so much. Butch knew what he was doing. And therein lies the problem.

This is a new gym for me. I may not have gotten great results at my old gym but I knew where everything was and how it worked. The torture exercise equipment at this gym is unfamiliar to me. Who knew there could be so many different ways to work a muscle?

I returned to the gym yesterday sans Butch at my side. It was pull day. That means biceps and …..uh……..chest, I think. I guess I should have taken notes. Armed with my ipod jamming away, I walked to the section where Butch had shown me the "pull" machines where. The only one I recognized had two men working there and they didn't move away during my entire workout. I was finally able to decipher the code to work a few of the machines. I set my weight at 30lbs. I have no idea if that is too much or too little but I used to do much more. But I'm starting over now and I didn't want to over-do. I worked my way through four machines and decided since Butch was nowhere to be seen that should be enough for one day. I walked upstairs to my old friend the elliptical. Now don't forget that Butch told me to do no more than 30 minutes cardio and that I should stay in the "fat-burning" zone which means my heart rate should be no higher than 120. At first, I thought this sounded great. I don't have to exercise as long as I was doing before and I don't have to work as hard. This proved to be more difficult that you might think.

I'm not sure but I think my heart rate was higher than 120 when I got on the machine. I had to climb two flights of stairs just to get there. I was never able to get my heart rate below 129. According to Butch, if you work too hard during cardio, you start to burn muscle instead of burning fat. I thought I was going to like working out with less intensity. Instead, I found it very challenging. I flipped through several songs on my ipod trying to find the right tempo. I finally settled on these:

• Michael pre-27 nose jobs and hanging baby off the balcony Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel. (This is such a great song. You can't help but move. The tempo was a little too quick so I had to visualize myself doing slow, controlled plies. This practice worked to some extent.)
  
• John Cougar Mellancamp's Cherry Bomb. (I got to daydream about the good old days when a sport was a sport and holding hands meant something…………baby.)
  
• Sara Evans' Otis Redding. (If you've never heard this song, you're missing it. It stirs my soul and evokes emotion in me that make me long for a simpler time)
  
• Marty Stuart and Johnny Cash singing Doin My Time. (Not only was the tempo a little slower but doin' my time was a nice fit, don't you think? Prison, Gym……..Potato, Potatto)
  
• Crystal Lewis' God's Been Good to Me (The story of my Life)
  

Thirty minutes of cardio completed and I was out the door. I noticed today at work as the day wore on that it became harder and harder to lift my arms. Butch would be so proud.

DO I LOOK THINNER YET?

I'm back on the wagon. A few weeks ago I announced that I had canceled my gym membership and discussed the possibilities of continuing my fitness program. I explored all the possibilities of working out at home and arrived once again at this conclusion: If I plan to exercise at home, I will put it off until next year tomorrow. Until Thanksgiving, I had been exercising regularly 3-5 times a week for the past three years. And getting nowhere. The holidays gave me an excuse but the truth is I was frustrated and bored.

Last Friday, I walked into a gym near my office and signed up for a new membership and an appointment for a personal training session today at 5pm. The membership came with a free session aka a personal training sales pitch. I would love to have a personal trainer but that simply is not in my budget. I'm sure it would be great to have a trainer and might even be the key to a successful fitness routine but alas, my wallet said a big fat NO!

My trainer for a day's name was Butch. The session began with an interview. I was required to give an obscene amount of very personal information such as my height, weight, age. Then we discussed my goals. My total body fat was measured by a device that looked very much like a playstation controller. I was appalled with the results. But you can't really trust a game controller for accurate information, right?

Butch continued the interrogation interview by asking about my goals, my level of commitment and how I planned to achieve those goals. I answered every painful question honestly because I'm so pure of heart *wink* and I'm a really bad liar. And of course, since he isn't blind, there was no real point in telling him that I'm 5'10" and weigh 120lbs.

We talked about increasing my metabolism, increasing my fitness level, reducing my body fat and shedding the excess poundage.

Then Butch started a sentence by saying, "Since you're approaching 50 years old…………." And I heard nothing after that. Seriously? I only just turned *cough* forty-eight *cough* I just sat there staring daggers at the boy. In situations like this my life becomes a cartoon fantasy like Calista Flockhart's character in the old show, Ally McBeal. I was suddenly transformed into Clint Eastwood. I gave Butch a look that said, "Go ahead Punk, make my day."

He noted my stare and the red bead on his forehead and continued, "Well, I'm sorry but you are." And I shot him.

Returning to the real world, I quickly explained to him that we can't be friends if he is going to say things like that. He smiled and realized he was dealing with a neurotic bitch sensitive woman who is struggling with her advancing age and the extra pounds it wants to bring along.

Before he said something else that would cause me to ram his foot down his throat might offend me, we moved on to the work-out portion of the session. Butch put me through several abdominal exercises, all new to me. Hopefully, I will be able to stand straight tomorrow. We proceeded to legs and glute work. I was familiar with some of the exercises but he was able to show me a few new tricks too.

If Butch knows what he is talking about, and that still remains to be seen, I'm going to be a very happy woman. It seems that I've been working too hard. I have to admit this was a hard pill to swallow. He suggests that I work out no more than four times a week with strength training. I should supplement my workout with cardio training but no longer than 30 minutes and at medium intensity which is where I will burn the most fat. My old routine included an hour of high intensity cardio supplemented with as little weight work as possible and as many classes as I could fit into my schedule. He also claims I haven't been eating enough. (He wasn't around for the cupcake fest this weekend.) But I think he meant that I should eat more often. Words of wisdom about eating before and after exercising were stressed and more blah, blah, blah, and blah.

I've lost 10 lbs in the last 3 years. It's been a yoyo experience at best. I'm going to try Butch's way. If he's right, he'll be my new best friend and my hero. If he's wrong……………………..I'll shoot him again.

WHAT IS A BANDWAGON? And why is it so easy to fall off?

I jumped on the traditional January bandwagon today………………..backwards. Technically, I guess I jumped off. At a time when millions are flocking to gyms and weight loss centers everywhere; I canceled my gym membership. Yes, I did. I walked in sans exercise equipment and signed my name on the dotted line. There is a thirty day notice policy in effect that allows me to continue not working out until February 15^th but officially, I am no longer a member.

You may or may not remember that my motivation for establishing this blog was to create a place where I could hold myself accountable by proclaiming my successes and failures publicly in my quest for better fitness, a more youthful appearance and most importantly arse removal. If you are a new reader or don't remember that post, you can click here to see what I had to say in my very first blog post. Since that time, I have posted about a few of my gym experiences, and discussed my diet regimen or lack thereof occasionally but for the most part, this blog has become more about my nonsensical life and all the joys that lie therein. I'm OK with that. It is what it is.

That being said, I still feel the burden that is finding the ever-elusive fit me, the healthy me, dare I say the smaller version of me that is out there somewhere, I just know it. Someone told me that they saw her at Whole Foods but by the time I got there, she was GONE! **sigh**

Here is the real deal:

• In the three years that I have been working out on a regular basis (with the exception of the holiday season this year) I have basically gotten nowhere. I lost and gained weight throughout and in the end can say with pride frustration that I am ten pounds lighter than I was when I started. Not good enough. I guess it's better than finding myself ten pounds heavier but three years! Come on!
  
• I want/need to find a diet that is as much about changing my eating habits as it is about losing weight. I have no interest in going on a temporary fad diet because history shows, the weight just comes back. I understand that in order to lose weight the caloric consumption must be more restrictive now and will loosen up a bit for a maintenance plan. I think I will be going back to the South Beach Diet because it's healthy and it includes all the food groups. I am a foodie and cannot will not cut any one food group out of my diet. SBD does restrict carbs but eventually you add them back in measured doses.
  
• My workout has become stale. I know that I enjoy classes more than working out independently but my old gym's class offerings didn't accommodate my schedule. It caters more to the stay at home mom, the senior citizens and the independently wealthy crowd. Every time they try to open an after-normal working hours class, it is poorly attended (meaning I'm the only one who shows up) and is eventually canceled.
  
• There is another gym near my office that offers multiple evening classes. It is a national chain. They have another location not too far from my house should the desire strike me for a weekend workout. The membership is the same price as my old gym. I'm not sure what the time commitment is.
  
• I have a treadmill in my bedroom that currently serves as a clothes hanger. The motor needs to be replaced. I can't imagine this repair would be too costly.
  
• I get the Fit Tv channel, I have a dvd player and I own several exercise videos. The problem with working out at home is that I always think that I will do it later and later never seems to happen.
  
• I've always wanted to be a runner but since our trip out West on the bikes last year, my knees have aged to 78 while I have only progressed to the ripe old age of none of your business. Osteo BiFlex wants to be my friend but I keep forgetting to take the darn pills.
  

I have to do something and it really should be now. Time is slipping by fast and it's already been over a month since I've exercised. Sadly my eating habits have gone to hell in a hand-basket too. It seems that the whole world is telling me to get up off my arse and just do it. People magazine showed three women on their cover that lost half their body weight. Thankfully, I don't have that much to lose. So why is it so hard for me to stick to a plan? I get at least 10 emails a day on my blackberry telling me to lose weight and exercise. Well, maybe not in those exact words.

Geri over at New Wrinkles did a recent post where she tells just how important exercise is to the aging process. New Wrinkles is a blog dedicated to giving important information on all sorts of health topics. It seems some people feel it's a better use of their time to actually give helpful information on their blog instead of the (almost) daily dose of silliness you find here. **wink**

So, peeps! Any suggestions? What's a girl to do? Are you frustrated too? Have you found the answer? I'm not talking resolutions here. What's your plan to get into shape? Or have you just decided that being fat and sassy ain't all that bad?

Oh and today I read over at Bear Naked that Physical Fitness helps your brain! SIGN.ME.UP! I need all the help I can get in that department. This case of Midlife Distraction is killing me.

DANG THAT PAULA DEEN, ANYWAY

OK, so if you go back to the beginning of this blog, you will find that it was started with the idea of improving my fitness level and losing weight. I was putting myself out there into the great big bloggy world and making myself accountable. It is an ongoing struggle that challenges me and sometimes p*sses me off. I've exercised regularly for a few years now after a long lapse of sedentary living. But even with all my extra activity, my quest for weight loss has failed miserably. But I always say, "Even when I fall flat on my face, I've progressed at least five feet and two inches." I'm not a quitter. I started pushing myself in the gym to try new things and spice up my work-out routine. I began to "really" watch what I ate as opposed to the healthy appetite diet I had been practicing for years. And things were going well. I lost a few pounds, 14 to be exact. And I blogged all about it.

Then along came Paula Deen and all her yummy, creamy goodness. Our trip to Savannah was so much fun. Dare I say, toooooo much fun! There was that wonderful meal about which I've already told you and then there was candy, more fried food (what trip to the old south would be complete without fried food?) and then the beer and did I mention that thanks to D1, I was stocked with Sweet Tea vodka? Oh and Pualani introduced me to Mojitos. If you haven't had one of those, you really should. Of course, I wouldn't have missed any of it for the world. But my week off the diet wagon has pushed the scales in the wrong direction, dang it and that's just not fair. Why is it that it takes months and years even to lose weight and it all can come undone in one stinkin week! OK, it didn't all come undone but when you're trying to lose weight and instead you find it........ Well, it ain't right.

So today, it was back to the gym. I've been taking a Hip Hop Booty class on Mondays. The instructors are two young, fit personal trainers who apparently spend their evenings out in clubs because these guys can DANCE! I feel strongly that if I have to exercise, I prefer to be entertained during the process. Usually the entertainment is self-provided as I can laugh at myself and that works for me. But these guys are my new source of entertainment. I forgot to bring my camera into the gym and so all I had was my phone and the above picture didn't really capture what I was after but let's say this is the preview to next week's post when I show you what Hip Hop Booty is all about. Stay tuned and as long as I survive the week and don't forget that I promised, I will tell you all about it with pictures and maybe even video if I can figure that out. *sigh* Bear with me, people, I'm learning. And I've come so far.

I’VE LOST MY MOJO

I WOULD LIKE TO WISH A VERY HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO MY CANADIAN FRIENDS!

I may not have mentioned this before. I'm a foodie. YourDictionary.com defines the word as a noun: slang-a person having an enthusiastic interest in the preparation and consumption of fine foods. Yep, that's me. I am a Food Network addict. I'm on a first name basis with Paula, Giada, Rachael, Tyler and Bobby. (In my own mind) But even before my discovery of the Food Network, I was a foodie. Even before I knew there was a term to describe me, I was a foodie.

I love to dine out. I will find something I think is interesting and new to me on the menu and order it. I love to try new tastes and textures. If I like a dish, I will pick it apart, dissect the flavors with my tongue and go home and try to recreate it or at least my version of it. My friends and family tell me that I'm pretty good at it too. I thought about posting recipes on this blog but the problem is that most of the time, I wing it. I could tell you ingredients. I can't tell you measures. It's a feely thing. You know, whatever I feel like. And usually no two attempts are the same. I like it that way. It keeps it interesting. Though it can be a little frustrating when I really like something and want to recreate it again exactly as it was first prepared but alas, I can't remember how much of anything I included. *sigh* I could blame this on my midlife lack of concentration but the truth is I've always been what my mother described as "a little scatter-brained". I like to think of it as charmingly distracted. I always have a lot on my mind, you know.

Thinking, thinking, I am always thinking about everything. Like right now, as I write this, Mayzie, my good ole' dog, is licking the arm of my living room chair. So excuse me while I go beat her with a spoon, reprimand her in an appropriate fashion.

She got down when she saw me coming but here she is behaving herself on the floor. You can't really get mad at a face like that.

OK, now see what I mean, I got a lot goin' on. Now where was I?......

It's not just restaurant offerings that I like to recreate. I also like to come up with my own delicacies which I affectionately refer to as "Smart Mouth Surprise". These are words that can send spasms of anxiety enthusiastic anticipation into the hearts of my family. Hey, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I think they've relaxed a bit since I received my PhD in culinary arts from the virtual school of the Food Network. Who says television can't be educational? I think my niece, Smart Mouth in Training, said it best: "I'm so glad we came to your house for dinner today, Aunt Smart Mouth, because I've really been craving something weird to eat." To which I replied: "I'm so impressed with your culinary sense of adventure." At this, her brother, GameBoy, lifted his head from his handheld game device of the day and stared at us both with a look of complete confusion. (Proof that he does listen while playing) And Smart Mouth in Training explained: "She likes that I try stuff."

So now I've gotten completely away from the problem at hand. My problem in a nutshell is my avid interest in creating yummy dishes for my family has created an ever-increasing waistline that is NOT desired. As mentioned in my earliest posts, even my doctor, thinks my expanding waistline is was a problem. So I put the wheels in motion. I super-charged my exercise routine. I started decreasing my portions and cut back on excess starches, sugar and fat in my diet. It's been about ten weeks since I've put this plan into action. I've lost 14 lbs, went on vacation, gained a few, came home, lost a few and now I'm kinda stuck. I'm at that unavoidable plateau that all "losers" reach at some point on their weight-loss journey. And my journey is far from complete, folks.

I'm bored. I was able to tough it out over the last ten weeks but lately I'm cheating more. I need new inspiration. I've lost my mojo. The foodie in me wants to create something fabulous. It's hard to produce a "fabulous" dish when you can't use cream, butter, bread, potatoes or pasta. Isn't it? I've found oodles of help at one of my favorite sites, Kalyn's Kitchen, but I'm looking for new inspiration. If I have to slap one more slab of grilled protein on top of a bed of salad, I think I'll scream. Not that I don't like that type of dish. Dang it, I just want my carbs back!

Help me, friends. I'm reaching out into the blogosphere. Take me under your wing. Teach me your secrets. There has got to be a way to have the figure of a goddess and still eat like a king. OK, that's probably not true. It's either one or the other, I know, I know. But while I'm trying to figure out whether I want to be a goddess or a king, please send me your secrets, advice or just let me know that I'm not alone and you feel my pain.

I'm gonna go eat a carrot.

HOLDING MYSELF ACCOUNTABLE

A week or so ago, I walked into the local supermarket and witnessed a little boy hopping onto the scales. He was very excited as he told his father, "Look, Daddy, I'm 40 pounds!" All I could think was "Oh my gawd! I have to lose a four year old!" Well, I'm pleased to say that after a change in diet and exercise, I now only have to lose a three year old.

It was about six weeks ago that I started this blog. I was mortified motivated by the proclamation of my physician that I was indeed no longer a spring chicken. After I recovered from the shock of that statement, I sat myself down and made a list of goals and then posted them on the internet for all the world to see, thinking that maybe this might help to keep me on track. So in the spirit of accountability, it's time to see just how far I've come.

The original goals listed were as follows:

• Lose weight or grow taller – no luck on the growing taller but as of this morning, I have lost a total of 13lbs. (more than 25% of my weight loss goal)
  
• Improve my fitness level – I've taken up spinning classes and I'm still trying to make it back to iron bodies. I find that while I have been working out at the gym independently for over 2 years, a drill sergeant instructor motivates me to work harder and challenge myself.
  
• Lower my blood pressure – Turns out that the blood-pressure reading was most likely a false high brought on by the utter excitement (NOT) and anticipation of my lower-body inspection.
  
• Eat a healthy diet and practice portion control – I started the South Beach Diet, (loosely) I stay in phase I because I never seem to make it thru the two weeks without cheating. If I wasn't losing weight, I would tighten up my restrictions but I prefer to be strict most of the time and have fun on the weekends. Almost daily, I visit Kalyn's Kitchen for recipe ideas.
  
• Lose weight (I thought it might help to list this one twice - Sometimes I need a reminder, it's that mental pause thing.
  
• Blog all about it – obviously.
  
• Define myself as "at that age when……I am energetic, fit, healthy and lovin' life! – I may not be there yet but definitely working in the right direction! Step by step, I'm gettin' there.
  

I've learned a few things along this journey too:

• Readers have told me that I inspire them with my little successes and determination.
  
• I don't need chocolate as much as I thought I did. (At least most of the time)
  
• Friendship is not about geography.
  
• I can still be a foodie and make healthy, delicious dishes for my family.
  
• When I go on a diet, MHS loses weight!
  
• I really need to invest in a better, more supportive sports bra if I plan to continue to spin. You want your legs to go at the speed of light but not your uh, well, you know. It's not pretty. Recommendations, anyone?
  
• The support and encouragement of friends and family is key to your success. So, friends, care to join me on this quest for fitness? It's more fun with buddies!