Fitness Challenge Update: Easter Bunny Blamed For Weight Gain

[This article was first published as Easter Bunny Blamed For Weight Gain on Technorati.]

We all knew it was a matter of time before I fell off the weight loss bandwagon. Quite frankly I'm surprised I went as long as I did.

This is the first week I posted a weight gain –a half a pound. I realize it's not much of a gain, but a gain is still a gain. And I promised to be truthful in this fitness challenge reporting.

Am I happy about this latest turn of events? No siree, Missy, I am not.

I could make up excuses. I have plenty of them. Part of the blame falls squarely on those emergency chocolate batons I ate last week, or rather inhaled, from the stress of my job.

And yes, I have been under quite a bit of stress lately. So much so that I actually backed into my garage door on my way to work. (Did I mention the van was in the garage and the garage door was closed as I was backing out? Who knew all that glass shattering would make such a racket?) 

But I rather think the Easter bunny should shoulder some of this weight loss gain blame. It's those darn tootin' tasty Cadbury mini-chocolate Easter eggs that appear in drug stores everywhere about this time.

I think maybe three bags of those little guys have appeared in my pantry and disappeared in the past few weeks. For the weight loss challenge (or challenged), the Easter season seems to be a difficult time of year for losing weight with aisle upon aisle of Easter candy.

According to one website, just one solid chocolate bunny contains 890 calories which would equate to more than the caloric intake of two meals for me.

Another site has a cute little slide show illustrating how much Easter candy you can eat at 100 calories. Apparently, I can only eat six of those tasty little Cadbury mini-eggs for 96 calories.

Thus, the problem.

My problem.

At six mini-eggs, I'm barely just getting started.

Darn Easter bunny. If he drops off any more of those eggs, I think we'll be eating rabbit stew. Apparently there's only 159.1 calories in a cup of that.

Fitness Challenge Update: Those Without Sin Cast The First Chicken Wing

[This article was first published as Those Without Sin Cast The First Chicken Wing on Technorati."

I don't need a scientific survey to tell me that most people lie about how much they weigh. I do it all the time.

It's not because I don't know exactly how much I weigh. I do. It's just I don't really think it's anyone else's business which is why I only report the number of pounds lost for my "Frying-in-my-own-fat Weight Loss Challenge," never my actual weight. To get that little piece of information, my dears, you'll have to have top secret government clearance or send a squad of Navy SEALs or Army Rangers to force an accurate accounting.

So you can see why I don't understand the fuss over whether New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie is lying about losing weight, or whether the First Lady deserves a pass for eating ribs or serving up fattening fair at a Super Bowl party.

In matters of weight and food, let those of you without sin cast the first chicken wing.

Those of us on this weight loss bandwagon work hard to try and eat healthy in our quest to shed our extra pounds, but we do falter in our struggle. I was reminded this weekend that we probably don't have to be so careful after reading a a news article coming out of Canada.  The article resurrects that Twinkie Diet from about a year ago which underscores that weight loss occurs when you use more calories than you take in no matter what you eat including vats of Twinkies. It also revisited that Imagine Diet.

The only thing I know for sure this week is that I really don't have any weight loss to report. I along with the needle on my scale seem to be stuck. (And, yes, I whacked it a few times. Still, a no go.)

And that, my dears, is no lie.

New diet pill promises 10% weight loss

[This article first published as New Diet Pill Promises 10 Percent Weight Loss on Technorati.]

According to a recent article, there's a new diet pill on the horizon--the first to receive tentative approval in more than a decade--that promises a 10 percent weight loss.

Still, there is concern about the drug's side effects. Apparently, the problem is not in creating weight loss drugs, but in creating weight loss drugs without side effects.

According to another news story, the "biggest problem in creating a weight-loss drug is that there appears to be no safe way to turn off one of the human body's most fundamental functions."

Tell me about it. They're talking about that thing that makes our bodies store fat the nano-second we cut back on food. You know, that thing that screams, "I'm starving! Save the fat, save the fat, save the fat!"

Yeah, that thing. Oh, how I hate that thing.

I sure wish losing weight were as simple as popping a pill, but there ain't no easy road to weight loss. No siree, Missy. I struggled like the rest of the fatsos this week increasing my workout intensity and watching my food intake, but not so much as to make that thing scream, "Save the fat, save the fat, save the fat!"

Apparently, I successfully outsmarted that darn tootin' thing as I am proud to report that my scale showed me 1.6 pounds lighter this week.

I suppose if losing weight were easy, 35 percent of the population wouldn't be fat, and we all would be running around looking like Heidi Klum or Brad Pitt.

If only.

Maybe one day someone will find a magic pill that will easily transform us back to that better, smaller version of ourselves. In the meantime, can't you just hear the Project Runway host saying, "One minute your thin and the next minute your fat!"

Thanks, Heidi.

Fitness Challenge Update: Losing Weight the American Way

[This article was  first published as Continuing Weight Loss the American Way on Technorati.]

Last week found me taking care of some stuff in Colorado, so I opted to give myself a pass for losing weight as long as I didn’t gain any weight.

Still, I managed to lose about a half pound and gain a new found admiration for people who travel all the time. The traveling road is brutal and fraught with too much sugar, fat and salt.  

While I sat in my aisle seat waiting for take off, I was once again reminded the importance of sticking with this frying in your own fat weight loss challenge. A rather hefty woman made her way to the back of the plan with a seat belt extension in hand. I don’t want to ever become one of those people who make the news because they get booted off a plane for being too fat or made to pay for another ticket because they can’t squish their behinds into their assigned seat. No siree, Missy.

Things like that mortify me and make me pray--a prayer of thanks that I never reached that size. A prayer of thanks for God’s blessings and strength to keep this weight loss challenge thing going. A prayer for the hefty woman and whatever baggage she hauls around her.

Traveling also gave me a chance to reflect. Here are a few things I learned on this trip:
#1… Gaining A New Perspective…I flew American Airlines and despite its bankruptcy woes,  everyone with American was very, very pleasant. Not a sour, dour person even when faced with some really, really stupid passengers.
You’re probably wondering what all of that has to do with this weight loss challenge. Well, when I start feeling grumpy (which I do from time to time with this dieting thing), I think of others who are having tougher times than me like those American Airline folks. While I'm worrying about what food to put on the table, they're worrying about how to put food on the table. See what I mean?

#2…Finding Healthy…Although I miss the little snacks we use to get for free on flights (pretzels, nuts, blah, blah, blah) such things aren’t good for my weight loss thing and certainly not good for the seatbelt extender in the back of the plane. I don’t even drink the free sodas on airplanes. (Sodas are bad, remember?) Instead, I drank my overpriced $3.50 Fiji water. For a snack, I even managed to purchase a 130 calorie healthy snack at the airport (some hummus and cucumber slices.) Of course, I had to look past all the fattening stuff, but it can be done, and for once, I finally did it.

#3… Missing Fitness Routines… Being gone made me miss my exercise/yoga regiment. I really did miss it. For the first time, I realized I don't have to talk myself into going anymore. I just don't need to go; I want to go.
So maybe some more pounds will want to go, too, and take a little trip far, far away from my behind.

Seat belt extender? No danger here.

Can You Weigh Me Now? Weight Fluctuations Cause Stress

(This article was first published as Weight Fluctuations Cause Stress on Technorati.)

I almost gave upon this weight loss challenge this week. I weighed myself and almost tossed the scale shot-put like into the backyard. It showed an increase even though I ate carefully, exercised and avoided all the stuff I wanted to eat.

Hells bells, I even avoided smelling donuts (One can't be too careful, you know. No siree, Missy.) Still, the scale showed an increase. When I picked up the darn tootin' thing to toss, I set the scale down again but in a different location and tried again.

This time It showed a 1.2 pound weight loss. And just to be sure, I sort of acted like the "Can-you-year-me-now" guy in that Verizon commercial except I was holding a scale and saying, "You-can-weigh-me-now."

The same, exact weight loss showed in several locations, so I can only surmise that the initial freak-out occurred because I had set the scale a bit topsyturvy on the tile.

Weight fluctuation apparently is normal. The Internet is filled with reasons why. Blame salt, the weather, hormones--you name it; just Google it.

Still, I probably shouldn't have eaten that tasty cheeseburger and french fries in celebration today of the 1.2 pound loss. In penance, at least I walked 45 minutes and went to my fat yoga class for two hours.

My yoga instructor told me she bought me some Valentine's chocolate that said, "You're No. 1" since I was the first person to sign up when she opened  her studio almost two years ago.

But then she decided that bordered on being a diet saboteur, so she didn't bring it to give to me. Instead, we all had to do extra yoga crunches because she said she ate nachos for lunch. (Like we would notice, since she's the size of a tooth pick.)

Something tells me those yoga crunches had nothing to do with nachos and a lot to do with that chocolate I didn't get. I think I gained two pounds just thinking about it.

I wonder how much thoughts weigh?

Fitness Challenge Update: Weighing In on the Plus Size Controversy

[This article was first published as Weighing In on the Plus Size Controversy on Technorati.]

Like most weeks of this weight loss challenge, I struggled.

First I struggled with the idea that apparently a size 6 is now a plus-size. At least in the fashion world. Who knew?
According to the January issue of PLUS model magazine, the average plus-size model 10 years ago was between a size 12 and 18. Now, the magazine claims plus-size models are between a size 6 and 14.
And as if that wasn't crazy enough (and don't you think it ought to be), the magazine claims that 20 years ago,  the average fashion model weighed 8 percent less than the average woman, but today the average model weighs 23 percent less than the average woman.
So I figure if I were a model, I'd be a Super Model. And by "Super," I'm not talking Super in a good way. More like Super-duper size.
So while I was pondering all of that, my school district decided to start a Biggest Loser challenge where you pony up ten bucks to participate and then agree to trot your super-duper derriere down to the nurse's office for an official weigh in each Wednesday. Then, in April at the end of the contest, the person who has the highest percentage of weight loss wins and collects all that moola.

All that sounded fine and dandy, but still didn't do much to move me to participate. I'm just not much of a joiner. But, then when they said participants could wear blue jeans on Weigh-in Wednesdays, well, they almost had me there.

You see, I'd do a lot to wear blue jeans and not have to stand in my closet pondering what to wear. I most certainly would pony up the ten bucks, but then there was that thing of having to have the nurse weigh me in.

It was a difficult decision. So much so that while I was weighing my desire to wear blue jeans against my need for anonymity, I smooth missed the deadline and now must continue my weight loss thing solo. I was a smidge disappointed that I allowed my indecision to make my decision.

Just as I was disappointed when my own solitary weigh-in showed no movement on my scale. I seem to be stuck. I'm not gaining, but I'm not losing weight either. I have lost inches, though, and that put me in a size smaller pair of pants.

Which, of course, made me feel super, and this time by "super," I mean super in a super-duper good way.

Is Anyone Really Out There? Week 12 Update--There Ain't No Cheese With This Whine

[This article was first published as Week 12 Update–There Ain't No Cheese With This Whine on Technorati.]

Let's just hang it all out there today. This is an old-fashion, full-blown, 5-alarm whinefest, and I'm not talking about the red-stuff-in-a-crystal-glass-kind either. No siree, Missy.

And since I'm still trying to lose weight, there ain't gonna be any cheese with this whine either. 

When I decided to be Ninja teacher at the start of the school year and fly  under the radar who knew just how invisible I would become?

I figured that perhaps if I kept my big fat mouth shut I'd stay out of trouble, and, if my big fat mouth stayed shut most of the time, as an added bonus, I might lose some weight, too. Toss in the whole "I'm Frying In My Own Fat Weight Loss Challenge" thing, and I figured it was a win/win of sorts.

Instead, this Ninja thing forced me to wonder rather Pink Floyd-like "Is anyone really out there?"

I thought by blogging about my weight loss struggles, there might be a word or two of encouragement from others. I thought perhaps readers might even offer up a tip or two. Or Dr. Oz would offer up some help. OK, so maybe not Dr. Oz, but you get it.

Something.

Anything.

But in the past 13 weeks I have been at this and despite being retweeted by a fair number, I've received only one brief note of encouragement.

One.

As in uno.

As in one more than none.

Does that mean that people retweet with abandon, but never actually read the stuff they toss down the Internet?

Or perhaps it's this Ninja thing. See how invisible I have become? 

At least I managed to become a half pound more invisible this past week, bringing my total weight loss to 10 pounds. And yes, I realize that I probably could have lost that half a pound just by sneezing. And, yes, I worry about gaining weight over the holiday season.

But I have other, more pressing worries. I became even more disheartened this week. As I entered Week Two of being sidelined by my sprained ankle and unable to exercise, I still had people come up to me and ask how I injured myself. Questions from people, you know, who claimed to read these things.

Which, again makes me ponder, "Is anyone really out there?"

If you are, do you think that perhaps you could bring some cheese for this whine?

Week 9 of the "Frying In My Own Fat" Weight Loss Challenge: Experts Appear Surprised by Weight Research

[This article was first published as Week 9: Experts Appear Surprised by Weight Research on Technorati.]

I don't know why researchers and health experts always seem so surprised when they "discover" this or that in their recent surveys about fatty this or skinny that. The latest surprise discovery was that three in 10 overweight or obese people don't view their weight as a health issue.

Maybe that's because some of those other studies showed that a lot of overweight people really don't view themselves as fat.

Then there was that sleep thing they connected to weight loss. Blah, blah, blah. Sure there are some scientific factors that weigh in here, but on a basic level, you don't need to be a rocket scientist or commission a study to figure out the more you are awake, the more time you have to eat.

If I were a gamblin' woman, I would wager that these experts' facial expressions must be something akin to a permanent rendition of Macaulay Culkin's "Home Alone" face.

Now, that's a face I can related to.  I feel that way every single time I step on that scale and those numbers refuse to move downward. 

This weight loss challenge has been quite a challenge lately.

Daunting actually.

I don't quite understand why it's so easy to put these extra pounds on, but so difficult to take them off. I found a recent article that provided a laundry list of stuff that can sabotage weight loss. The list was mainly a collection of common sense things.

Then, of course, another article discussed how mindless eating can cause weight gain, too.

Gee whillikers, another shocker there.

I'll tell you what sabotages weight loss… F-O-O-D.

Let's all practice our "Home Alone" face as we step onto the scale for Week 9 of the "I'm-Frying-In-My-Own-Fat" Weight Loss Challenge.


Can I have a thunder thigh roll, pah-leese?

Just as I suspected. Weight loss for this week:  one measly pound.

No shocker there.

Week 5 Frying in My Own Fat Weight Loss Challenge: State Fair Fryfest Serves as Too Much Temptation

 [This article was first published as Week 5: State Fair Fryfest Serves as Too Much Temptation on Technorati.]


The great State Fair of Texas gets underway in just a few weeks.

Sadly, I will not be one of the more than 2.6 million people expected to attend this year. Sorry, Big Tex, but I can't afford to get much bigger.
I love the state fair, but it's filled with all kinds of tasty, fried treats. (I can hear my arteries clogging just at the thought.)  New to the fryfest this year include deep-fried pineapple, fried salsa, fried bubble gum, and what I thought would be my personal favorite– a very special fried banana (think banana rolled in a flour tortilla fried then topped with whipped cream, powdered sugar, cinnamon, vanilla extract and then drizzled with caramel or chocolate syrup).
That little healthy apple in my lunch box doesn't look so good now.
Last year, The Dallas Morning News had the Cooper Clinic crunch some numbers on the winning fried food finalists at the fair. According to the article, if we ate those entries "you'd consume a heart-pounding, take-your-breath-away 5,089 calories, about half of them from fat."
Since I struggled to lose one pound this week, you can see why Big Tex will have to do without me there this year. 
I don't want to have to borrow his size 284 W x 185 L pants.

Frying in My Own Fat Week Three: Yoga Brings Little Stress Release

[This article was first published as Week 3–Yoga Brings Little Stress Relief on Technorati.]

I'm not quite sure if it's the lack of sugar, sleep or just a general malaise from this record setting heat, but quite frankly this "Frying In My Own Fat" Weight Loss Challenge thing is making me just a tad bit grumpy.

OK, so maybe more than a tad bit grumpy.

My yoga buddy, Becky, and I came within a nanosecond of earning the dubious distinction of being the first people on planet to be tossed out of a yoga class. Who knew yoga could be so stressful?

OK OK OK so maybe that's a tad bit of an exaggeration, but if we had actually put our thoughts into actions, let's just say my little yoga crane hands would have poked out Mr. Gumby Guy Yoga Instructor's eyes out, and that would have been a very, very un-yogi like thing to do especially during National Yoga Month.

It's not that I don't love yoga. I do, and with it being National Yoga Month, you can actually get a free week's worth of yoga at just about any place. Which, after my little class with Mr. Gumby Guy Yoga instructor, is a great idea so you can find an instructor that matches you like my favorite teacher of all time, Chris.

I most certainly can understand why people are reticent to sign up for a gym, continue an exercise program and or try something new. You get tired of people expecting you to do things you just can't do, and then chastise you for "not pushing yourself."
Since I apparently have these anger issues, for a fleeting instant, I almost succumbed to one of those slick advertisements and signed up for a fitness boot camp specials from Groupon.

Almost.

I thought maybe, just maybe, it would help jump start me a bit more after that crème brulee fiasco of last week.

Even though those boot camp sites claim their programs are for people of all ages and skill levels, well, just look at their camp videos. I didn't see one person who looked like me… old…fat…grumpy…tired…nonrunner…

I bet they have an entire army of Mean Mr. Gumby Guys.

Except these guys probably yell at you.

Instead, I purchased a nice little Groupon facial.

I figured I deserved a little stress reduction and a little reward. I lost two pounds this week, and I didn't poke anyone's eye out.

Carol: End of the Line

[The following article was first published as The End of the Line on Technorati.]

I returned home exhausted from the 3-day for the Cure 60 mile walk. I along with the other three members of my team--the Pink Me Out team--walked every inch of the course, and yes, we have the sore feet to prove it.

According to The Dallas Morning News, there were more than 2,700 walkers who participated in the Susan G. Komen walk to battle cancer. Organizers told us Dallas alone raised  $7 million. All in all, I suppose you can put a big check mark in the win-win column.

In my 3-day journey, I discovered lots of things (including Thing 1 who posed for pictures at one of the pit stops). And while I found Thing 1 rather amusing, it's really the other things that were more interesting and/or surprising. Things like…

•How well an event like this runs… It's well-orchestrated, well-planned and well-done--except for whoever thought it was a good idea to throw in some steps on the last day.

•My teammates and I were surprised at the number of participants who don't actually walk the entire course instead opting for a ride in the sweep van to the next pit stop or a bus back to camp. No judgments here. I do understand why some cannot complete the course. It was difficult to do. We just figured our level of being uncomfortable didn't come close to what cancer patients face.

•I was amazed at the generosity of some people. The people who I least expected to donate for us to walk donated a lot. The people who I thought would donate or who I thought would donated substantially didn't. I'm still surprised that our team did not get one donation from anyone on the Internet as a result of this or any other blog posting made. (But then, I'm still waiting for Oprah to read my book and "discover" me. Ah, if only wishes were horses, beggars would ride…")

•I learned I can technically "rough" it. I survived frigid  temperatures in a tent with wet hair (no electricity for blow dryers). I succumbed to three days of portable toilets (except for that one incident when I hobbled into a Starbucks for coffee and running water).

But most importantly, I learned firsthand that life as a participant beats life as a spectator. Hands--make that feet--down.

Carol: Week 17--107 degrees, Hot Yoga & Armadillos

[This article was first published as Week 17: Continued Heat Wave Dampens Training on Technorati.] 

Just as predicted, the start of school this week left little to no time for my 3-day for the Cure training walks with my Pink Me Out walking buddies (who could use a little bit of help with their fund-raising).

Of course, the record -setting 107 degree temperature did little to ignite much enthusiasm for our training expeditions. I couldn't even kindle enough desire to  plan for our training.

According to our virtual trainer, we're supposed to have 31 miles racked up this week. Jeepers creepers, I'll be lucky to finish my week with 10 miles.

I did manage to squeeze in a hot yoga class, though. (And, yes, I do think there's something inherently twisted about doing hot yoga when it's 107 degrees outside, but I also think there's something inherently wrong with putting up a donut shop next to a yoga studio.)

I was doing pretty good with the whole hot yoga thing until we got to that crazy crane pose. (Yeah, like that's going to happen in my lifetime.) Undeterred by my failure there, I successfully transformed myself into the next pose--a frog. Our very lovely yoga instructor who also happens to be a former yearbook editor of mine wanted us to be  jumping frogs visualizing a bug on the ceiling. Since there was a grasshopper stuck to the outside window, I was OK with that whole visualization thing, but at 53, not very OK with that jumping thing.

Well, all that visualization of critters got me to thinking about the armadillos that were wreaking havoc in my front yard at five in the morning. I don't know if you get bonus points (or miles) for chasing armadillos off your front yard, but surely that's gotta count for something.

Carol: Week 12 Kicking It Into Stupid Gear

(Article first published as Week 12: Kicking It Into Stupid Gear on Technorati.)

Sometimes I ignore warning signs, whether it's a simple telltale sigh from my spouse or something more "official" like those nasty little National Weather Service heat advisory bulletins.

Sometimes I'm a poster child for memory loss, like when I forget that the previous week of my training for the 3-day for the Cure was short on training and long on air conditioned conference rooms.

And then, sometimes, just sometimes, I'm just not the brightest crayon in the box.

Yep, Week 12 of my training found me kicking it in high gear on the stupid level.

It started on Monday when I, along with my two training buddies, decided it would be a brilliant idea to do an 8-mile walk... at 1:30 p.m. during a heat advisory. Despite slathering on sunscreen, packing lots of water, wearing light colored clothing and taking a few breaks here and there, by mile five things weren't looking so good. 

I, of course, knew the problem: heat exhaustion. I even ticked off all the symptoms to my walking buddies because, after all, I had previously written about those dangers in my Week 5 post.

Still, we remained undeterred, but things started getting ugly at the six and half mile marker when we collapsed on a bench located, fittingly, near a cemetery.

We almost called our husbands to come and rescue us, but the thought of them taking photographs and posting our failure on YouTube was enough to spur us on.

That and the sound of an ice cream truck (as if we needed a reason to celebrate National Ice Cream Month.)

Good thing I carry around an emergency five dollar bill.

Carol: 3-day for the Cure Update

(Article first published as Week 10 & 11: Shoes Provide Little Hope for Slackers on Technorati.)

Blame it on the week-long high school journalism workshop filled with 600-plus kiddos that I had to attend.

Or blame it on a lack of sleep resulting from chaperoning said workshop.

Or, let's just blame it on the rain. (OK, so you probably have to be pre-Generation Y to get that rain allusion.)

Perhaps all those factors combined to make it not only difficult to walk, but also impossible to find the time to dutifully report about my inactivity for my 3-day for the Cure training. I only managed to squeeze in four miles or so while attending the workshop. The previous week I kept to my walking schedule racking up two to three miles every day, but I'm such a slacker I neglected to report about it.

I didn't even get a chance to read the second part of the USA Today fitness challenge story.   

I did, however, read with interest another article  about those toning shoes that supposedly will give the wearer a more shapely behind, toned legs and tighter abs--all without having to set foot in a gym.

Oh, if I only had a pair of those shoes, I wouldn't have to obsess so much about my lack of training this past week.

 If life were only that simple. If it were, I'd be the first to slap down a hundred bucks or so (plus shipping and handling), and everything would shape up.

But my hopes for an easy out were snuffed by the seventh paragraph. The article quoted a professor from Johns Hopkins University's School of Medicine in Baltimore who very succinctly said those claims were "utter nonsense."

Moreover, according to the article, doctors warned toning shoes can cause other problems with balance and can strain Achilles tendons.

Perhaps  I'm better off with a pair of those ruby red slippers and my regular walking shoes.

Carol: Week 6--Training with Jack

(Writer's note: The following article was first published as "Week 6: One Goal Down, But Many More Miles to Go" on technorati.)

Week six looks very promising indeed; promising because school (woo-hoo!) is out for the summer.

A double woo-hoo because, in only six weeks, I reached the mandatory fund-raising goal of $2,300 necessary to participate in the Susan G. Komen 60 mile 3-day Walk for the Cure.
Whew, what a relief! I must admit that I was a tad worried that I would be unable to raise the required donations and would be left on the outside looking in after training all summer long in the hot sweltering Texas sun. I mean what sane person wants to walk about in 100 degree heat if they don't really have to?

But now that I have that little money thing under control, I can begin some serious training for the November walk. To do that, I have enlisted my trusty compadre Jack and his nifty little doggy backpack, a gift from my dog expert/writer sister Maggie Bonham. 

After reading about such unusual pet gifts as a pet high chair or pet chatter bowl,  a pet backpack really doesn't seem all that usual. In fact, you can find a wide assortment of backpacks for Fido at such normal, standard venues as REI or surf other sites  for the more serious dog hikers. 

 

Dog experts recommend that your dog doesn't carry more than 20 percent of his weight. For Jack (pictured above), who weighs 90-plus pounds that would mean about 18 pounds of stuff, but we're just going to stick with some water, maybe a snack and his collapsible water bowl. Of course, we'll follow all the advice for keeping Jack safe in the summer sun.

He's used to walking at least three miles a day.  Tomorrow, we're going to try five. Unfortunately, when I finally walk the 3-day for the Cure, Jack will have to remain at home not because I don't think he can raise the money to walk, but because pets are not allowed.

[For those keeping track: Jack and I actually walked 6 miles today. This past week I logged  10.5 miles &  attended two yoga classes.] 

Carol: Week 1--The Training Begins

(The following post first appeared in my column “On the Outside Looking In” at technorati.com Yes, I am walking in the Susan G. Komen 3 day for the Cure walk. If you can find it in your heart to help sponsor me, please click on the 3-day for the Cure logo on the right or simply click here.) 


Seven percent.

So far that's all I've raised on my journey for the required $2,300 sponsorship necessary to participate in the Susan G. Komen 3-day for the Cure, 60-mile walk.

Of course, it's only been three days since I started this, but patience and me fit together about as well as me and a pair of purple spandex pants. 

Like most things that I do, I went full steam into this becoming a participant thing. I created my fund raising page, emailed everyone in my address book and downloaded and read all 58 pages of my "Walker Handbook." 

That's when I discovered on page 43 that I'll be "camping out."

As in a tent. Now, my idea of "camping out" pretty much has been booking a hotel room with those nifty soft Egyptian cotton sheets. The closest I've ever gotten to camping out was spending the night in an RV at the Cotton Bowl for a Rolling Stones concert.

Page 56 of the manual really got my attention because not only will I be sleeping in a tent, I have to set up the tent. I shared this little piece of information with my husband, and let's just say that if he were a rolling-your-eyes-kind-of-guy, well, his eyes would be permanently stuck up inside his head. 

Undaunted by the camping news, I official kicked off Week 1 of my training with a 2.2 mile walk to the gas station to buy a lottery ticket. It will be a tough week to get all the recommended training in if I don't win the lottery because I have several teaching commitments that will interfere. 

Still, I will not be a Negative Nancy. Naysayer or Ninnyhammer like one person was.  Someone actually posted a comment that they didn't "understand why anyone wants to fund raise money to fight against cancer… These sorts of charity events seem to be designed to make the participants feel better, but what do they really do about the disease? Almost nothing."

Jeez Louise. I guess tell that to the almost 200,000 women who will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year and let's see what they think about such events. 

And if participating in an event makes me feel better, well, what in the Sam Hill is wrong with that?

Joel: What Was I Thinking?

I walked 5K tonight. No, the plan didn't start out that way. In fact, I was just going to take a nice relaxing 15-minute 3/4 mile walk and be done. 1 lap at the park and out. No problem.

Then I started thinking.

"Hey, I don't have anything else going on tonight. Why don't I go two laps like I normally do?"

Okay, that was simple enough.

Then I started thinking some more.

"If I can do two laps, I can do three."

As I came to the end of my third lap, I saw the guy who had been sprinting. He was all tired out and looked like he was finished. I asked him how far he had gone. His response was 3.1. I know that's four laps at the track (actually, four laps is 3.16 miles). I told him I was doing the same and was about to start my fourth lap.

So I committed myself then.

But ya know, I have been noticing over the past couple of weeks that the biggest difficulty with the exercise habit (as well as the eating habit) is not the physical challenge. That's big and all, but the biggest problem I have encountered he the psychological one.

It's hard to change who I am. I am a fat, lazy, out-of-shape, ugly 31-year old. Now, I'm in the process of transforming myself into a slightly overweight, athletic, ugly 32-year old. At least that's the plan.

Each time I decide to get off my butt and go work out, my mind is what wants to stop me. It's not my body being tired, but my mind telling myself that my body is tired. I have to beat it into submission. Ugh...

Carol Update: The Not So Chipper Me

My goodness I forgot to begin the last post with a "Your Mum's So Fat" joke in honor of the lack of Chubby Brits who failed to rise up to the occasion and participate in this little fitness challenge. So-o-o-o here are two of them (jokes that is, still no Chubby Brits)… Yo Mum's So Fat Joke #4…"They have to put speed bumps at the all you can eat buffet." Yo Mum's So Fat Joke #5… "She laid out on the beach and Greenpeace threw her into the ocean."

OK, so now that I am caught up, Here's a brief midweek update…

Monday…

• garage. semi-cold. kickboxing. (cat OK)
• went to Pilates Torture Time. Doomsday Becky postponed her trip by one day and did attend. Dora Who's Not The Explorer was out of town, and "A," who is Dora Who's Not The Explorer's daughter was not there either.

HOWEVER… (can I get one of those movie, suspenseful duh-duh-duhs and is that how you spell that?)

Two new people who were very, very, very very chipper  showed up, and they could do EVERYTHING without even one teensy groan or complaint. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, the Chippers could draw perfect circles and triangles with their legs. And, as if that isn't bad enough, let me just say that the words "lard" and "behind" never would appear in the same sentence as these two newcomers. Sadly, that is not the case in my case.


Still, I muddled through thinking not-so-happy thoughts.


Tuesday…

• Garage. Cold. Kickboxing. Pretty sure I now know all the words to the Black Eyed Peas song, "I Gotta A Feelin.'"
• Pretended all the Chippers of the world were on my punching bag.
• Doing fairly well with my standing Eagle pose.
• Tuesday night… yoga… Missy Chrissy Pretzel admitted that she was the one who told the Chippers about Pilates Torture Time class. Spent the entire class working on what Missy Chrissy Pretzel says is "letting go of all those hidden areas of stress." 
• So I tried to work on my Chipper issues.
• Worked on the Eagle Pose too, but I kept falling over.

I don't know why I can do the Eagle Pose better in my garage than in class. I keep falling over in class. 

As best as I can figure, that building must have some sort of foundation problems and the floor tilts.

Whine with Cookies, the Dolphin Pose & Setbacks

Yo Mum's So Fat Mum Joke #3…“She irons her clothes on the driveway” [Send me your own jokes… I’ll keep posting these until we get two chubby Brittish teachers for our fitness challenge…]

Time for the midweek update…Jeez Louise, though, I'm not sure why I'm bothering. Is anyone out there? Am I the only chubbette? Am I the only one who has Yo mum's so fat jokes? Am I the only one struggling here? I'm not feelin' the love here…

OK enough of the whineroma… Let's suck in our abs and get an update…

Saturday & Sunday… Walked both days 2 to 2.5  miles each day. Went out to eat twice (bad). Made chocolate chip/pecan cookies to give to the tech guys at work. Ate some too (bad). Ate some again (not good–not the cookies, they were great.). Ate some more later (still bad).

Monday…

• Woke up and drank lots of coffee.
• Went into the garage for kickboxing
• Didn't scare the cat.
• Did a little kickboxing & yoga
• Went to Pilates Torture Time. Got there before Doomsday Becky, grabbed a spot in the back row, made Doomsday Becky go to the front row, by the teacher. 
• Wanted to make rabbit ears for Doomsday Becky since I was sitting directly behind her and there was a mirror in front of her. It would have been hilarious, but the teacher kept watching. 
• Tried to do the roll down on the floor and roll back up thingy. Not happenin' in my life time even if pigs do fly.

Tuesday…

• Woke up, drank coffee, went into the garage for kickboxing.
• Cat not in the garage. No one to scare.
• Did a little kickboxing and yoga.
• Getting good at singing "Tonight's Gonna Be A Good Night" by the Black Eyed Peas. 
• Went to work. Ate two pieces of Emergency Chocolate. 
• Went to yoga in the evening. Doomsday Becky took my spot in the back of the room.
• Missy Chrissy Pretzel made us do this dolphin thing with push ups. Who knew dolphins could be so mean?
• Missy Chrissy Pretzel semi-redeemed herself by including a Leon Russell song in her music repertoire. 
• No Eagle Pose practice this time, but did Eagle sit ups. Yeah, you try wrapping one foot around your ankle. At least I was already on the floor. No danger of falling down.

Obviously, didn't make much progress in the weight loss category probably had something to do with the eating out, the chocolate chip cookies and my lack of restraint.

I guess I'll be like Scarlett O'Hara and say, "After all, tomorrow is another day."



 

Carol: Fat Joke #2, Midweek Update & Oprah Where Are You

Yo Mum's So Fat Mum Joke #2…“She laid out on the beach and Greenpeace threw her into the ocean” [Send me your own jokes… I’ll keep posting these until we get two chubby Brittish teachers for our fitness challenge…]

Purchased a new fancy, schmancy scale that does BMI and has BIG numbers for weight, so I can actually SEE the results.

Here's my midweek update…

Monday…

• Woke up.
• Drank lots of coffee.
• Drank more coffee.
• Went into the garage for kickboxing
• Scared the bejeebers out of the cat.
• Did a little kickboxing & yoga and pondered why Oprah wasn't reading my book so I could cash in, hire a personal trainer, buy a Wii and get a make over.
• Decided once again that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, so went back in the house and got ready for work.
• Went to Pilates Torture Time. Grabbed a spot in the back row. Made Doomsday Becky go to the front row, by the teacher. Karma… it's a…
• Tried to do this rolly ball thing. Yeah, when pigs fly.

Tuesday…

• Woke up, drank coffee, went into the garage for kickboxing.
• This time DIDN'T scare the cat.
• Did a little kickboxing and yoga.
• Wished  Oprah would just read my book so I could cash in, hire a personal trainer, buy a Wii and get a make over.
• Decided once again that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, so went back in the house and got ready for work.
•  Went to yoga.
• Missy Chrissy Pretzel decided we would do all mat work. 
• Almost got out my phone to take a picture of her to put on my punching bag, but my arms and abs were so sore I couldn't crawl to reach my phone.
• Practiced the Eagle Pose. She taught a new way to do the arms and get set up. Actually helped. :-)

Wednesday…

• Woke up, drank cofee, went into the garage for kickboxing.
• Didn't scare the cat. Cat's getting smarter.
• Wished I had that photo of Missy Chrissy Pretzel. My arms ache.
• Punched.
• Punched some more.
• Practiced Eagle pose.
• Went about 15 seconds before I fell over.

Let's see if I survive yoga tonight.