Well, I really really tried working out in the snow but alas, the weather (and my laziness) got the better of me.  So without making any more excuses, here’s what I learned this week:

1. Cutting out junk food isn’t that easy, especially during Christmas

2. Keep a cookbook (Weight Watchers in my case) in your car. That way, if you are starving and need a quick easy idea on the way home, you have something available.

3. I don’t care what they say about chewing gum. It always makes me hungry after a while.

Now for my (sad) stats – all stats are compared to original numbers:

Weight: 132.3 pounds = lost 4.4 pounds

Body Fat: 34.2 % = lost .8%

Arm: 11 inches = gained .4 inches (okay seriously this needs to stop!!)

Bust: 35.4 inches = lost 2.8 inches

Waist: 31.5 inches = gained .4 inches

Hips: 39.4 inches = lost .4 inches

Thighs: 40.55 inches = lost .35 inches

I didn’t do very well this week. I cheated on my food – birthdays, parties, etc. I thought working out would take care of things, but apparently I ate significantly more than I worked out. So here’s what I learned this week:

1. After two weeks, I can kick it up on the elliptical to level 9 on both ramp and speed.
2. After two weeks, the last 10 minutes don’t get easier on the elliptical.
3. During the day, while I’m at work, I actually wish I was working out!
4. Going to the gym in the morning isn’t as bad as I thought. In fact, there are days when I actually wish I was working out instead of working.
5. Weight Watchers once again changed their plan. I’m getting sick of trying to stay on top of it.

Weight: 133.6 pounds = lost 3 pounds

Body Fat: 34.6 % = lost .4%

Arm: 10.8 inches = gained .2 inches

Bust: 36 inches = lost 2.2 inches

Waist: 30.5 inches = lost .6 inches

Hips: 39 inches = lost .8 inches

Thighs: 40.7 inches = lost .2 inches

Okay so week one is done and I am a bit late posting this. So how did it go? Was I a complete angel?… heck no! But was it my fault… no! I was working out feverishly every day. I didn’t mind the 5:30am wake-up, nor did I mind being the only one at the gym besides the cleaning lady. Things were going very well until Tuesday afternoon. That’s when hell came crashing in on me in the form of a 24-hour bug. On the plus side, I am now complete adept at driving on the freeway while getting sick in my computer mug and not crashing into things. On the minus side, I didn’t work out on Wednesday. Instead I lay there like a slug in my bed while my poor dog begged me to take her out walking. Obviously, my eating went to pot although I did manage to steer clear of desserts until Friday. Oh well, what’s a girl to do.

So how did I do for my first week? Not bad!!! Check out the stats… (although I’m convinced the waist went up in inches b/c of muscle… yeah right!)

Weight: 134.4 pounds = lost 2.4 pounds

Body Fat: 33.7 % = lost1.3% from last week

Arm: 10.2 inches = lost .4 inches

Bust: 36.2 inches = lost 2 inches although I’m convinced my husband gave give last week in hopes that I was really that big!

Waist: 32.67 inches = added 1.57 (WTF???)

Hips: 39 inches = lost .8

My work is hosting a weight loss contest and yours truly has decided to join. Here’s how it works. The contest starts 12/1/08 and ends 06/05/08. There are two ways to enter.

1. Pay $50 to enter. You win the contest by losing the most body fat. If you don’t win, you forfeit your entry fee.
2. Pay based on how much fat you commit to losing. If you don’t win but meet your goal, you get your entry fee back. If you don’t win and don’t meet your goal, you forfeit your entry fee. The more you commit to losing, the smaller your entry fee. In my case, I want to lose at least 25% body fat. I put in $75.

Here’s how body fat lost is calculated:

((Current Weight)*(Current Body Fat%))-((Future Weight)*(Future Body Fat%)) divided by ((Current Weight)*(Current Body Fat%))

Today i weighed myself. HOW DID I GAIN ALL THIS WEIGHT. I’m a freakin’ “Lifetime” member of Weight Watchers and I managed  REGAINED all my lost weight and then some in THREE YEARS!!! Food looked really good… and exercise looked really bad. Nate measured my body and took pics. He kept telling me to stand straight b/c my boobs looked lopsided. Yeah, I was standing straight!!! I think it’s my tank top… or the big boobs holding my tank top.

Okay so here’s the plan. My goal is to weigh myself, tape myself, and take pics every week. I’m going to work out 1 hour each weekday morning – upping it from half an hour. I’m also switching to the Weight Watchers CORE plan. I’m not going to be super stringent but just following it moderately. I figure anything is better than what I’ve done so far. There are 26 people who are playing and there’s a potential to win $1000 and go back to being a healthy.

So here are my stats and pics. Don’t run out of this blog screaming!

Weight: 136.8 pounds

Body Fat: 35% (eegads!!!!!!)

Arm: 10.6 inches

Bust: 38.2 inches (say what?????)

Waist: 31.1 inches

Hips: 39.8 inches

Thighs: 40.9 inches

I came home the other night in a pretty melancholy state. I found my husband Nate in the kitchen and he gave me a great big old hug. You know the kind… the one where you can just sink in to. Nate’s amazing. He knows me inside out. He knows how terrible I’ve been feeling lately and he just let me bury myself in that hug. Once we broke apart, he looked at me and said, “I think I know what’s going to make you feel better… puppies!” Puppies? Plural? Wait, I knew about his dad’s new 9-week old puppy, but when did we go from singular to plural? Before I could get a question out, we were in my car, racing the mile to my dad-in-law’s house where we found the two cutest little things rolling around, jumping around and scrambling to get in my arms. They were so excited they tinkled – on my hand – and I DIDN’T CARE. Yep, that’s how happy they made me. These two little puppies made my night… and really so did my husband. He knew exactly what I needed.

I guess I should tell you how the puppy duplication happened. My dad-in-law has a friend who bought puppy #2 but wasn’t sure if she’d keep it. We’ve been on pins and needles since hoping she doesn’t! This morning we found out that dad-in-law gets to keep both! Hurray for happy endings!

That’s what I did. I paid for torture. It sounded like a great idea at the time. Hey Ani, my friend Regan says, Dan is doing a boot camp on Mondays and Fridays at Green Lake. It’ll be fun. Let’s do it. “Aw that’s awesome,” I say.

Aw. That’s. Awesome. What was I on? I am PAYING a man to drag my butt out in public, bark out instructions, while I lift an 8 lb. torture ball with Velcro through my squatting legs. I am PAYING a man to have me run back and forth between trees. I am PAYING a man to tell me that Diet Coke is bad for you and that aspartame is made out of formaldehyde. Yes, he crossed the sacred Diet Coke line!

What is wrong with me? Oh, I know… that’s how desperate I am to get back in shape. Right now, I can barely feel my arms. My legs are quivering. I’m about to go take a healthy dose of Advil and jump in the shower… but not before I bend down and try to kick myself for the insanity i’m putting myself through. Bootcamp. What a great idea…

I’m kinda in this blah mood today and I was trying to think of things to cheer me up. Right away I thought about Kona, which then got my mind to start thinking about this doggie food sample we got today at some feed shop that sells food for pets. First let me say that the whole world is losing it. The dog food brand was from the guys who wrote “Chicken Soup for the Soul.” No. Really. “Writers” are now making dog food. Wholesome dog food. It’s called “Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover’s Soul.” Doesn’t it make you people who read the original book feel kinda dirty?

So I kinda giggled at the display and walked away, when I heard one of the workers asking my husband if he would like a sample. Free pet food? Uh, yeah we’d like some. But here’s where my mind starts going. Why would we need a sample of dog food. Have they seen most dogs? Dogs will eat anything. Anything. My dog will be in heaven if she gets a piece of dried spaghetti. More importantly, my dog can’t speak. She can’t tell me if she thinks it’s so-so, a little too bland, a little too spicy. Right? Am I right here?

Ever watch Curb Your Enthusiasm? It’s a now-defunct HBO show with Larry David, one of the creators of Seinfeld. If you haven’t seen it, it’s hilarious… as long as you don’t mind being uncomfortable with finding so many inappropriate things so funny. You see, Larry is like George Costanza from Seinfeld, but 20x worse. He is selfish, self-centered, and bears the wrath of most who encounter him. Wait, is it bear or bare? Whatever.

So I’m watching season 5’s “Kamikaze Bingo.” The short version is that Larry shames the son of a kamikaze fighter into suicide. Basically, Larry brought up the idea that if his dad was a kamikaze, shouldn’t he be dead rather than living in a nursing home. The story goes on in the typical Curb Your Enthuisiasm way, but the ending was what killed me. Larry goes on to piss off all the people who live at the nursing home and they all decide to gang up on him during a bingo game. Larry starts backing up into a door while all these old people come slowing charging at him like the monsters did in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video. Then all of a sudden you hear the revving of a wheelchair, the crowd parts and the kamikaze dad comes racing down the bingo hall in his motorized wheelchair screaming “BONZAI!”

So at this point you must be wondering (assuming there’s a “you” out there actually reading this) why I’m sitting here recapping a TV show episode. I’ll tell you why. Right after I hear “BONZAI!” I start cracking up. I mean I’m hysterically laughing when all of a sudden I see this black object fly past our living room window and I hear something crash against the window. I run outside to find a tiny baby bird with a yellow breast essentially taking its last breaths. I run inside to grab a towel, reach down and cup the bird in my hands… and the baby bird quivers and DIES! DIES!!! So I run behind the house calling out my husband’s name. I don’t bother going inside since my loving dog would surely attack what was in my hand. Meanwhile, Nate comes outside with this shocked look on his face. He heard me laughing and now I’m standing in front of him, cupping a dead baby bird, crying hysterically and screaming “the baby bird is dead! It’s dead. It died! A crow killed it. Fucking crow!” So he grabs the towel from my hand and the baby bird lands with a thud on the ground.

And so you see, this is why I told you the Curb Your Enthusiasm story. You think this kind of shit happens only on TV shows, but oh no… not when it comes to my life.

Epilogue: Nate buried Baby Bird O’Leary (BBO) in our backyard and has a great big cinder block on the patch so no furry animal can get to it. I’m going to make a pretty little patch of stones and plant some seeds. I guess I’m a closet animal lover after all…

Here’s what the BBO looked like.

It’s 7:00 am and I’m masochistic enough to launch my work email to check out what my day is going to look like. Some people think I’m nuts for doing this, but it’s much better to have the screaming out of the way at home, while the dog looks on like nothing is wrong.

So what do gambling and email have in common. You know that feeling you get when you put the nickel in the nickel slots (yes, I’m cheap), pull the lever, and then wait… that’s how i feel when i launch my Outlook. I click on the Outlook icon, hold my breath, wait for the connection, and then see the numbers start popping up next to my in-box.  If it stops at 5, I’m happy. Anything past that means i’m going to have a crapper of a day. Now I know 5 sounds like I’m a spoiled brat, but don’t begrudge me this. I used to be one of those people who would get 80 emails in the morning, and I still have empathy for the poor souls who have to experience this, but the reality is, sometimes it’s not quantity. Sometimes it has everything to do with WHO sends the darn email. So how do I rank today? Pretty good, 3 emails, one from THAT guy, but all in all a pretty good morning.

It’s amazing how quickly you get used to having wet doggie noses around. My husband, Nate and I got our doggie, Kona, two days after we got engaged. Now I’m sure it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but for a girl who’s only claim to a pet was a caterpillar that managed to live a few hours before it died in a jar full of water, it’s a big deal.

Kona is a Siberian Husky that we rescued from an owner who enjoyed being inebriated and declaring how he was so sick and tired of running after “that dog.” So fast forward three years and Kona has become a central character in my life. Yep – a dog. I used to make fun of people like me. People who would get down on all fours and start talking baby talk to their pets. People who would refer to their pets as “my baby girl” or would chime in with pet anecdotes while others would be talking about their kids – like you could compare the two.

So how the heck did this ball of fur get so deeply enmeshed in my life and heart? Last week, I was at my mom’s house in L.A. far away from Kona. I was sleeping on the couch and had my arm hanging and I kept imagining a wet doggie nose pushing into the palm of my hand. I woke up from my nap because it felt so real only to remember that i was 1200 miles away from my fluff ball.

Wet doggie noses. They’re the best.