New Year Goal Number One

Not surprisingly, upon initial reflection as to what my most pressing goals for 2011 were to be, what came screaming at me front and center was my weight. Now folks, I’ve always been what many may consider “curvy” and at many points in my life I have considered that an attribute. And, although I’ve never been slim, by my early twenties I had come to terms with my body, which probably could have been featured in a certain 90′s rap video. (I’ll give you a hint…he likes “big butts and he cannot lie.”)

Unfortunately, after two kids and way too many ingested calories my “curves” have become less of an attribute and more of an unfortunate circumstance. And stuffing my curves into a pair of jeans is now starting to resemble stuffing a bunch of meatballs inside a nylon sock. Yep. Go ahead and visualize it for a moment. Not pretty.

Enter Goal Numero Uno.

Lose weight.

Obviously, weight loss is not a new concept for me. And if I were to be entirely honest it’s a concept which annoyingly inhabits much of my brain power (well, weight loss and planning my son’s future inevitable stint in the pokey for indecent exposure…more on that at a later time.) I have been consumed with the idea of a Heidi Klum body for as long as I can remember and have taken some drastic measures to get there (to read further into these humiliating moments of mine go here and here). The longer it takes me to get my Heidi Klum butt the better Kirstie Alley is starting to look as my end-goal.

But this year is different. And why is that, you might be asking? Because this year, I have changed my tactics. I have become a full-fledged member of a fitness facility. That’s right. I have joined ranks with the millions of aerobic devotees in this beloved country and signed my name on the dotted line to a 12-month commitment towards attaining a better body.

It should be as easy as that. Right? Well, let’s just say that my initiation as a gym rat didn’t go quite as planned. Let’s just say that I now have a posse of baby boomers who purposely avoid me and my preferred cardio equipment. Let’s just say that I made quite an impression with my fellow workout compadres. Yes, I did.

More to come…

Mindy

The Dreaded Picture

I’m fairly certain that most everyone has experienced this at one time or another.

How about you? Ever been featured in a photograph in a not-so-flattering manner? And upon discovery of said photograph a shock of shivers (and not the fun kind) trickle down your back at the realization that members of the public have not only seen you looking like this but it is now forever in existence thanks to digital media, a’la Facebook?

For some, perhaps the picture showcased a particularly unkind double-chin. For others it could have been a visual red-flag revealing one’s need to permanently remove a collection of turtleneck sweaters and acid-washed denim jackets from one’s wardrobe. Or, quite possibly, that small-rod perm you swore would transform you into an America’s Next Top Model jumps off the photo paper with a less than attractive effect.

For me, the picture only solidified a pressing feeling I’ve been unable to permanently tamper down. And God knows I’ve tried.

The picture reminded me (in a not so kind way) thatI have got to drop some pounds. I’m talking serious butter here, people.

The denial by which I have heretofore managed to utilize as a replacement for any real commitment to dieting has now forever been squashed due to the mental image now imprinted on my brain.

The dreaded picture.

So, you might be asking yourself, Mindy, haven’t you already made such revelations in previous blog posts, such asthis? And, didn’t you, in fact, enlist your husband to act as your Weight Watchers weigh-in coach?My answer would be a resounding yes. And that was a big fat ton of fun. Not. Weight loss is a process, people. Apparently, for this suburban wife it’s a long one.

So, what am I going to do with this newfound motivation-via-humiliation?

Well, I plan on taking a big, deep look at why I overeat and what I can do to work on that problem. And I also plan on finishing my recent Amazon purchase, the book, “If I Am So Smart, Why Can’t I Lose Weight?” by Brooke Castillo. I’ve only read a couple of chapters thus far but I really like the tone of the author’s writing and her attempt at bringing humor to an otherwise depressing topic.

And I’m all about the humor. I’m also all about finding the positives in negative situations.

Yes, I’m a bit of a chunky monkey. And, yes, I like to eat Cheezits. Lots of them. A weakness. But, I’ve got a host of other attributes that make up a whole lot more of who “Mindy” is than my pant size. Which, admittedly, is a little bigger this year than last year. But, this is why they make yoga pants. See? I’m all about the positives.

And I’m learning that it’s a lot more effective to focus on your attributes than to dwell on your negative characteristics. It makes much more sense to remind yourself what’s particularly “kick-ass” about you and once you’ve mastered the whole “loving” yourself situation, the rest will fall into place.

I admit that this post has been a bit therapeutic with some psycho-babble thrown in, but in true “The Suburban Life” form, I’m telling it like I see it.

Changes are afoot, my friends, and when I’m able to crop a proud “After” picture beside it, I’ll share the Dreaded Picture with you all.

P.S. Happy Birthday to my mom! Love you tons (no pun intended.)

Mindy


Desperate times…my hubby is my WeightWatchers coach.

I have been a “Weight Watcher” on and off for several years now. On when I have extra money and well, extra motivation. Off when I realize that only counting points one day a week does not make for an effective weight-loss regimen or a very loyal “Weight Watcher” for that matter. And, lately I’ve beenin the off pattern. Until now.

I’ve been revamped with some new motivation. Here goes.

1. Everyone around me is getting skinny, ‘cept me.

2. My “fat pants” are starting to pinch. Crap.

3. I’ve slowly crept past my “will never weigh that amount again” amount. Super-crap.

4. My boobs are getting too big.

So, I have decided to fire off on a new quest…a quest to lose weight. Again. For like the forty-hundredth time. But I think this time will be a teensy bit different than the others. Why, you ask?

Because I have subjected myself to something I swore I would never do. I have broken the unspoken code of our kind…I have breached the most agreed-upon rule I have learned since becoming a “woman.” I told my husband how much I weigh.

Allow me a moment to collect myself…it seems so much worse now that I’ve put it out there for the web-world to read. Find your happy place, Mindy. No, not Krispy Kreme! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! Channel Denise Austin, Jane Fonda, the Buns of Steel folks…hell, at this point channel Richard Simmons!

Okay, I’m back. And I’m okay.

So, the story goes…

Me: Um, hey, Jer. I have something to ask you and it makes me feel a teensy bit uncomfortable.

Him: What?

Me: I don’t know how to put this…

Him: What’s up? Let me guess…you want to become swingers! (He starts snickering.)

Me: Yes.

Him: Wh-wh-what? Seriously? (Men are so simple, bless their hearts.)

Me: No. I want you to start weighing me. Like, be my Weight Watchers coach.

Him: (Confused and slightly bewildered) So you’re saying you don’t want to be swingers?

Me: Focus, Jer. That was a joke. Seriously, get a grip. Did you hear what I said about weighing me?

Him: (I can tell he’s coming back from the ‘swinging’ reference.) Okay, yes. I heard you. Are you sure you want me to?

Me: Yes. I do. I think it will really help me if I know I have to be accountable to someone. And not a friend. It’s pretty easy to convince a friend to skip weigh-in and hit the Rooty Tooty Fresh’n Fruity for breakfast instead. You will keep me focused.

Him: Um, I don’t know if this is a good idea. You’re going to get all mad at me and stuff.

Me: No, I’m not. I’m going to be a total grown-up about it and you’re not a judgmental person so we should have no problem.

Him: Okay, give it to me. What’s your weight?

Okay, so here’s where it got a little ugly. After about 15 minutes I was able to write down my weight on a piece of paper and slip it to him. He looked down at it, looked at me, smiled and then slipped it into his desk drawer.

Me: What was that smirk about?

Him: I didn’t smirk.

Me: Yes, you did. You smirked right after you looked at the paper. What was that about?

Him: Mindy, I didn’t smirk. I simply looked at the paper. And if you’re going to act like this each week then I’m not doing this. You can’t be mean to me.

Me: Humph.

And…that was this morning. First weigh-in. I can’t say it went too well but I’m holding out hopes that next week is much smoother. I can say this much though…Jer is one brave muchacho.

Love to all, Mindy

Weight Loss Woes – How many epiphanies can one actually have?

Have you ever logged on to a weight loss website and read one motivating story after another of how a down-in-her-luck overweight mom pulled herself up by her bootstraps and finally lost the weight that had been plaguing her for years? And then, after reading said motivating story you say to yourself, “That’s it. I am tired of this extra weight and I think I am finally ready to take care of it. For good. Just after I eat this last Oreo.” What you have experienced is an epiphany. Dictionary.com defines an epiphany as “a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.” Sounds life-changing, right? It should be. Unless you have them all the time. Like every few days.

Okay, I admit it. I am a member of about 3 different weight loss websites and due to my over-zealous ability to produce an epiphany on a semi-regular basis I am actively seeking answers to all of my weight problems, i.e. why am I so fat? Some background here…I am overweight. Always have been. But, I am still a stunningly beautiful woman who just happens to have a few extra lumps in her trunk. Anyway, each website boasts its own set of rules claiming to help you reach your weight loss goals. How many points do I consume on a daily basis? How much exercise am I getting? Do I have supportive family and friends? Do I keep a food diary and journal my feelings? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I don’t fit into my skinny jeans because I EAT TOO MUCH FOOD. Okay, I don’t actually possess any skinny jeans. But that really isn’t the point here. The point is, why do we seek the same exact answers from so many different sources? Why do I feel compelled to self-inflict pain from three separate websites all telling me the same thing? Am I really hoping that I will be lucky enough to happen upon the holy grail of weight loss solutions moments after I log-in to website number two? Well fellow insight-seekers, I am here to tell you that there is no holy grail. Like I said, I’m overweight because I eat too much. Plain and simple.

Herein lies the problem. How does one stop eating so much? And if one does stop eating so much for, say, like, a whole day, how does one than stop oneself from then bingeing on Oreos and cheese crackers the entire next day? They don’t make Cheez-Its in a big box and offer up several tantalizing flavors for nothing. They know what’s up. That’s a great snack, people! The point is, epiphanies be damned. True, unencumbered weight loss will happen when you are finally ready to give up the bad habits you have accumulated throughout your existence. In my thinking, an epiphany is just a way of buying yourself more time. The real change begins the minute you put the Oreo down or throw cheese crackers away. And I will. Soon. But I just opened a new box of Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its.

Love to all, Mindy