Can I Get a Wuh-Wuh?

Holy crap, I'm so tired.

My allergies have been craaaaaaaaaay-zaaaaaay these past couple of days. What's weird is that I always want to eat a chit-load of food when I'm all allergy-ridden. Well... I always want to eat a chit-load of food when I'm not allergy-ridden too. *le sigh*

My mom was visiting last week and we decided to re-re-re join Weight Watchers. Although this is my ump-teenth time joining, I always end up losing weight so, for me, it's worth it. I think a lot of people have misconceptions about what Weight Watchers (or as I call it, Wuh-Wuh) is about. You don't have to buy WW food or weigh-in in public. For the most part, WW teaches you how to eat healthier.

All calories are not equal. Weight Watchers knows this, but it's constantly struggling to get us fatties to know it as well. Many years ago they had the Core program, which was bad ass. It's now called Simply Filling, but back in the day it was an entire program unto itself. It should have been called the Whole Foods program because that's what it was essentially made up of: fruits, veggies, lean meats, dairy (bluah), whole grains... yadda yadda. The only issue I have with the Core/Simply Filling plan is that it's not entirely free of processed food. Evidently there are some trigger foods that we voluptuous chickies can't eat in moderation so they've limited dairy to the fat-free variety. They've also removed avocado and olives from the buffet eat-until-you're-satisfied list.

So, I'm choosing to do a modified Core/Simply Filling program. I said it. I'munna do it. While the wonderful thing about SF is that you don't have to track, I'm going to. Now I feel like I'm rambling. Prolly 'cause I am. But, you know what? I can do it if I want to. It's my prerogative, I can do what-I-wanna-deeew. It's my prerogative, I can live my liiIiiIiiIiife.

Fun fact: "perogative" has an extra "r" in it. Bobby Brown, you sonofabitch, you need to learn to ENUNCIATE!

Lupus Strikes Again.

Sonofabitch. I was doing GREAT last week: walking every day, eating well, gett'n stuff done around the house. Then Sunday hit, the weather changed, and BAM! lupus struck.

It's infuriating!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!

!

Seriously, all of a sudden it feels as though I was hit by a Mac truck. Tired (soooo, soooo tired), depressed, feeling utterly hopeless, headachy.

I hate being told what I can and cannot do. Especially by my own godforsaken body. Et tu, Brute?

Starting Weight: 250ish Pounds of Gorgeousness

When I first began (again) this journey towards better health, I was not what one would typically think a morbidly obese person would be like. I've always been blessed with high self-esteem (or... delusional narcissism, either way it works for me), so even at my highest weight I didn't see it. You know what I'm saying? Sure, I knew I had gained weight, but I was still figuring out the Lupus, the uterine issues, and dealing with the emotional upheaval of it all, so I gave myself a little leeway.

My weight didn't affect me the way it should have. If I were in my right mind, I should have been pissed, angry, or scared that I had allowed myself to become that unhealthy. I think over the years I'd become so p.c. that I no longer recognized what having the excess weight really meant. I had been conditioned to love people for who they were, not the color or shape of their bodies. So, in essence I ended up screwing myself over because I loved myself for who I was, warts and all.

Therein lies the problem, if you completely accept yourself for who you are right now, sometimes you don't see your flaws. I think that's how I lived for a very long time. I didn't recognize the unhealthiness of my ways - both physical and emotional. Don't get me wrong, I'm not meaning to generalize or say that you shouldn't totally accept yourself, I'm just talk'n about my experience.

<-- Take a look at this photo right here. I'm adorable, right? RIGHT?! *said with glaring eyes, one twitching slightly* My huge, sparkling personality really made up for my huge butt. I still had people giving me a lot of attention, my husband loved me unconditionally, and even though I was tired and sick, I was blessed.

There was only one friend of mine who actually said anything to me about my weight. He wasn't mean about it: he was just concerned, but when he said something it was really painful. I was pissed. How dare he? Doesn't he know what I've been going through? He has no idea how I've suffered!!

But really, I was embarrassed. He had called me out. In true Emperor's New Clothes fashion, he basically screamed out, "Dang girl, you nekkid!!!" I could no longer pretend that something wasn't wrong and that other people didn't see how big I had gotten. It still took a little longer before I did anything about it, but it got the wheels in motion.

A few weeks later, Elle and I joined Weight Watchers and started Fat Camp. We began at the end of July 2012 and I weighed in at 250.6 lbs (BMI of 44). Yeesh. From September to this February, I managed to maintain the loss through the increasing pain from my fibroids and endometriosis (was not fun). When I recovered from the hysterectomy, I began again.

What's different now is that I am starting to recognize the harm that the fat can do. It's not just "oh yuck, fat," it's really fucking up my organs and the inside of my body. Like, really. Seriously, I've got to give props to the Biggest Loser and the education that they provide on that show. When they would do the health consultations and explain how fat was hindering the body's natural state, it made an impact on me.

They talked about how obesity was similar to other horrible types of diseases and they constantly ask, "If you had cancer, wouldn't you take 2 hours a day for chemo?" Of course, the answer is yes, but most people don't see fat % as being as dangerous as cancer. In our society, we're fucking ourselves over with the shit we're putting in, on, and around our bodies and we just keep consuming.

Well, I, for one, am waking the fuck up. And I'm pissed at my ignorance.

The crappiest picture of me. Evar. Highest weight: 250 lbs.

Steel Cut Oats.

Today's adventure is all about steel cut oats. "Adventure?!" you might say. "ADFRICK'NVENTURE!!!" I would retort. For me, stepping into the kitchen is a miraculous and awe-inspiring thing. For the longest time, I've either been too tired, to sick, or too recovering-from-surgery to attempt anything other than a microwave dinner.

Luckily I have very high self esteem and don't let my inability to feed my family affect my woman-hood-ness. Damnit. With much rejoicing, though, I now have increasingly more periods of energy and have been toeing my way into that linoleum wonderland.

This morning I tried steel cut oats. First I had to spend 20 minutes searching the internet and reading about the difference between steel cut & rolled oats. I learned that they're basically the same thing except that the steel cut is less processed: the steel cut are just chopped up while the rolled are steam rolled for faster cooking time. Since my friend Elle had graciously donated a container to our home, I decided to try the steel cut.

I don't know about you, but it freaks me out when I cook anything that creates a film or light, airy, floaty bit that waives at me from the stove. That's what happened when I got to the 30 minutes of simmering. I tried to remove the excess layer, but it would stick to the side of the pot or evaporate or disappear into another dimension... I don't know. It just made me very uncomfortable. At this point I was thinking how in the world does cooking oatmeal rock me to the core?! Oh gahd... ooooh gaaahhd...

Anyhoosies, I assembled the ingredients that are all the rage when making steel cut oats: "milk", raisins, almonds, flaxseed, cinnamon, sugar. Typically I only have some stevia and soy/almondmilk, but this time I figured I'd go all out. I was, after all, a new chef... creating... exploring...

Exhibit A.

I added the ingredients with fervor. I sprinkled bits of goodness to and fro. I felt an inner sense of accomplishment that, YES I TOO CAN DO THIS! I'm not gonna lie, the cinnamon did fight with me. But as you can see here (Exhibit A), I splashed its guts all over the bowl CSI style. SCREW YOU CINNAMON!

Overall it was a great accomplishment. It was tasty, but a bit sweet. I think next time I'll take out the raisins and sugar and add just a scoach of honey.

The most interesting thing that I learned from this experience has nothing to do with oatmeal. It turns out that I have been duped by the advertising. "Sugar in the Raw" is just plain ole crappy-for-you sugar that has been sprayed with molasses.

And "raw " sugar is no better, Nonas added. "People are very susceptible to marketing. And just because something is natural doesn't mean it's particularly healthy for you," she said.
Raw sugar isn't even really raw. It's just slightly less refined, so it retains some of the molasses. But there's no real health real benefit from it. "There's no more nutritional value in raw sugar than there is in white sugar or brown sugar," Nonas said. 

The Raw Facts on Sugar, ABC News 

Sonofabitch. *sigh*

And another thing, Weight Watchers (and every other diet guru) always says that oatmeal makes you feel fuller longer and that it's supposed to hold you over forever and ever and ever. I find that that's not the case with me. I'm frick'n hungry right now. I think I may have to go back to my eggs, cheese, and Ezekiel bread slice.

Extreme Makeover Weight Loss & Big Ole Stanky Lie Edition

I really want to like this show. Even though he's lipless and full of cheese, there's a part of me who just wants to adore Chris Powell for the innocent beefcake that he is tries to portray. But... this show is getting annoying. When I first started watching it, I happily ignored the lies (there's no way in hell that Chris stays with the contestants for 3 months, pft not even three days) after all it was entertaining and it did inspire me to... well, not really do anything in real life, but I thought about... one day... getting off my ass.

You can tell that the contestants never see him. And if you're reading this and overweight, you know that there's no way that these folks are losing 200+ lbs on their own. I'm not saying that it's not possible to do that in a year healthfully, but I'm just not buying that most of them are. I know that one of the early contestants, James Garrison, was talking smack about the show on his blog. He's since had to remove his sass, but excerpts can be seen here.

I think we all know (at least I hope we all know) that these types of shows are... massaged, let's say... to be entertaining. That's coolio, if it gets me to start thinking of my health enough to make a change, you can take me for a ride baby. I just wish that Chris et al. would give the audience some credit and make the show a little less liar-liar-pants-on-fire-y. And tone down the cheese... oh gahd... the cheeeese.

For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about:

:*(

Bad Lupi day (again). What people don't know about Lupus is that when you flare you get really emotional. I've been really sad today. :(

Living With Lupus.

Living with Lupus sucks balls. On top of all of the pain and overall crappy feeling, you have to deal with the social aspect as well. It's an "invisible disease" which means that there's no obvious outward sign that you're sick. The average person just doesn't know how to process the information; especially without a wheelchair, cane, cast, eye patch, sling, mechanical leg, whatever, to draw reference from.

I get it. For the longest time I bought into the "lazy" theory or the "if I just ate better and worked out" b.s. that everybody parrots to you when you mention the word "tired." Right before I turned 30 I remember telling my boss that I was feeling run down recently. His response was that I should hit the gym, implying that my overweight was the cause of my fatigue. I agreed with him until a few weeks later when I had a stroke.

We were able to joke about his advice later, but it dawned on me then that people don't know what the fuck they're talking about. Yes, I choose to believe that, in general, people are coming from a good place, but for the most part they really are just spouting shit they heard from magazines and TV shows.

Sorry if I'm all over the place. I don't feel well and when that happens, my mind doesn't work so well. Right now I'm feeling sad and angry. It's frustrating to have to deal with this shit. Pain. You know when you have the flu and your body is inflamed and you feel like sore all over? It's sorta like that. My hands feel like they're on fire and someone has run them over with a steam roller. I'm fucking tired. Like I haven't slept in weeks.

It's so fucking frustrating. I want to believe that I can control this disease, in tiny ways I can, but really it's got me by the ovaries (well, one ovary now). My life is being held captive by Lupus (I hate that bitch).

From San Diego Lymer

Tired.

Lupi day. Tired. So tired.

My Own Biggest Loser: Starting Info

238.5     Start

As we all know, it's important to see the horror from whenst you came to keep you motivated throughout your weight-loss/ gett'n-healthy journey. I'll try to find some photos from when I was 250, but for now we'll do the starting info for my BL challenge. I took this info right after I bought the Withings scale, so the weight is probably a little high since it was in the afternoon.

February 4, 2013

Height: 5'3" (63")
Age: 38 (yeesh)
Weight: 238.5
Lean Mass: 49.2%
Fat: 50.8%
BMI: 42.2

It's so crazy the mind works. When I look in the mirror, I don't see the weight; but these pictures, man. What I am thankful for, though, is that even with all of this fluff, I still find myself extremely attractive. THANK MUTHA FUCK'N GAHD FOR HIGH SELF-ESTEEM (or delusions... that's fine, I'll take it).

In the side view, you can see the surgery scar underneath my boob and the bruise from the Lovenox shot (taken in December, mind you). Whenever I see my progress photos I always think, "Goddamn, I need a better bra." Heh. Other than that, I'm just excited to see my future progress.

Setting Myself Up for Success (Yah Boyiiiie).

Okay, so we don't have kids and evidently we don't like contributing to our retirement. That leaves us with a bit of $ to typically spend on fast food. This week, after watching The Biggest Loser reruns on HuluPlus, I've started my own Biggest Loser competition. Right now I'm the only contestant, but I'm pretending there are others. AND I WILL CRUSH THEM!!! *shaking fist into the air*

A few days ago I think I blogged about choosing a fitness monitoring device. I went with the FitBit One because it was cheaper, smaller, and it has a really great free support website. The website applications are cool and easy to use. I swear to god, I'm not a paid endorser, I'm just super pleased with this product. It also works side-by-side with MyFitnessPal. They sync with each other so that everything is nice and purdy.

I also splurged and bought the Withing's Wi-Fi Body Scale which does everything including the laundry. Dude. Duuuuude. This thing zaps all of your info from your bathroom to your computer AS SOON AS YOU STEP OFF OF IT! That's crazy, yo! After I weigh in, I run to the computer to see my progress: weight, body fat %, and BMI.

All of these devices interact with each other. It's like an electronic three-some of fat busting!! I will gadget myself to weight loss. Oh yes, I will.

Killer Tomatoes.

Did you know that one medium Roma tomato is 35 calories? I put one on my sandwich yesterday and another sliced on the plate. When I entered the info into MyFitnessPal I was shocked, nay stunned, to find that I had spent 70 of my precious 1200 calories on tomatoes. TOMATOES!

Sure it's better that than, say Cheetos  but sheesh. Did you also know, tomatoes are part of the (deadly*) nightshade "vegetables". OoooOOooOooo. Some say that we Lupi peeps shouldn't eat nightshade veggies because of their inherent inflammatory properties. If that were the case, then we should stay away from a number of tasty veggies that would honestly make me horribly depressed.

Luckily Lupus.org weighs in on the issue (edited, head over there to see the hole s[ch]piel):

Q: Will eating nightshade vegetables increase my lupus flares or joint pain? It seems that every place I read about this has a different opinion about this.

A: The nightshade vegetables include white potatoes, tomatoes, peppers (sweet and hot), and eggplant. While there is anecdotal evidence that some of these foods can be related to inflammation, there is no solid scientific evidence to support this concept. My advice would be for people to keep track of when they eat these foods, and to look for a pattern between consumption and a flare. If there does seem to be a connection, ...a person could avoid one/all of the nightshade vegetables without creating any nutrient deficiencies. 

Why tomatoes gotta be like that? Always gotta be gett'n all the attention... bring'n all the dramarama. Tomatoes are just another squirrel try'n ta get a nut.

OhMyGahg.

Can I just profess, right now, right here, in front of everyone, that I love Nick Kroll. Frick'n hysterical. Instead of a song playing over and over in my head right now, I have his Liz character (from PubLizity [it's based on our nayams]) saying "Ohmygahg". Oooooh how I love him.

On today's plate, I'm trying to figure out which fitness assessing device to buy. I'm looking at BodyMedia, Fitbit, & bodybugg. Buying one of these will automatically make me lose weight, right? RIGHT?!

I've also opened MyFitnessPal for the first time in months. I can't help but feeling this overall sense of foreshadowed doom. In the back of my mind I'm saying to myself, "Oh jeez, here we go again. Another attempt that I will just give up in a few weeks." How fucked up is that? I recognized the self-deprecating thoughts when I was talking to my husband this morning over a delicious Del Taco egg & cheese burrito (don't judge me).

We had just dropped our pup off at the vet to have hip surgery (which of course made me crave comfort food) and I was telling him of the wonderful plans that I had for my (and the pup's) future. I waxed on about how she'll be recovering at a similar rate that I will be, so she can do the little steadily lengthened walks at the park with me. Our stamina will gradually increase together, culminating in the most amazing mother/pup-daughter healing and healthful experience EVAR OCCURRING IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD!!

All the while thinking that he's thinking, "Oh god, here we go again" *mental rolling of the eyes*. So I said something to the affect of "or whatever" to which he immediately called me out. We talked about my defeatist attitude. It's so crazy because I'm typically a positive person. You know, one of those irritating "you can doooo eeet" types that think everything is possible. But for some reason my self-talk is horribly negative when it comes to weight loss and fitness.

In 2005/6 I lost about 70 lbs. I've done it before, so I know that I'm totally capable of it; however, it's those rumblings that all we fat people have that keep playing in my head like a broken record. "Even if you lose it, you'll gain it back... PLUS MORE!", "Exercise? You hate exercise.", "It's too hard.", "Think of all of the food you won't be able to eat.", "You did it before without very much movement, why do I need to walk this time?", "Tomorrow... tomorrow I'll start. I'm just not feeling up for it today."

So fucking ridiculous. Meanwhile, I'm stuck on medication that's doing who-knows-what to my body. Intellectually I know that I'm killing myself by remaining on this path. Why is this process so fucking hard? Ug, I can't even ask that stupid question, I know all of the reasons. It's just my ego. Stupid ego.

Obesity, Recover, & Slacklining (Oh My!).

Having a hysterectomy when you're morbidly obese is a fucking big deal. I'm at the end of the 5th week and my gut is still sore. The wobbly fat pulls at the incision making the healing process more difficult. Arg, it's so goddamn frustrating 'cause I just want to get to that point where I can start exercising without feeling like I'm going to hurt myself.

I went out today to visit with some friends. Afterwards we went to the park so that some of them could try their luck with slacklining.

Goddamn hippies. Does this guy look like a young Art Garfunkel to anyone else? It's hard for me not to see Garfunkel slacklining in this act. Hello slackline, my old frieend...

But I digress. Today started Day 1 of the Biggest Loser Fat Brown Chick Special Edition. It was rough, but this is totally doable. About 6/7 years ago I was able to lose 70 lbs, during which most of the time period I was recovering from knee surgery. Did that sentence make sense? I dunno. I'm tired. Whilst I was out with the dirty slackers I was in the sun. Lupus people shouldn't be in the sun, it's against our ways.

Whatever.

Catfish.

Was watching Catfish the TV show - the episode with Kya & Dani - and I ashamedly admit that in the end when the lovebirds are on the beach, I wished that Kya were thinner. Ridiculous. You get so used to seeing thin people in romantic comedies that when you see real-life-sized people it's odd. Something doesn't sit right.

I wonder if that's what people think when they see me and Hubby walking hand in hand. I'm sure we've been judged, that's just human nature. No matter how hard you work to change your "wrong" way of thinking, to grow as a person, there's still that flash of the old, bigoted, ugly you before your enlightened being can bitch slap it back to your subconscious.

I also saw the episode with Rico. That man is so frick'n unbelievably gorgeous. I kept giggling idiotically to myself when his beautiful mug came up on the screen. Lust turned to sadness, though, when I realized that he reminded me of a dear friend that I knew in high school. His name was Chad and he died suddenly at the age of 29 from a DVT. Ug and now I'm sad. Goddamnit.

The Biggest Loser.

Okay, so I'm a bit late to the Biggest Loser bandwagon. I started watching this season and got hooked so I added all of the previous seasons to my HuluPlus account. I'm currently in the middle of season 1.

It's so crazy to look at these people and realize that their starting weight is lower than what I currently weigh. AND THEY LOOK SOOOO FAT! I don't feel that fat. I mean, sure I've got fluff and when the tv goes dark I can see the reflection of a morbidly obese person staring at me, but I don't feel fat.

Yesterday TBL inspired me to make a Costco run to pick up the family-sized portions of fruits. Unfortunately, I'm still recovering from surgery and majorly overdid it. Damn you Costco!!! *shaking fist into the air* You've foiled me again!

Right now I've got some frozen organic chicken boobies in the oven. I bought the village-sized frozen green beans that I'm looking forward to devouring too. Very exciting. I might actually take some photos tomorrow.

The 'Bits.

Had the girly bits removed at the end of last year. Recovery has been going splendidly, but I can't wait until I'm healed completely. I think this year is going to be a good one.