DAYS 16-19

I promised myself I would, so I did. Today I finally weighed myself. And this is what happened:

19 days of blood, sweat, and tears, and I've officially lost 5.6 lbs! As I stood on the scale, trying not to hold my breath, waiting for the numbers to pop up, about a thousand things ran through my head. But nothing could have prepared me for the underwhelming - hmmm - that was my actual reaction. Not elation, not disappointment, simply satisfaction. Satisfaction in knowing that this journey is not a sprint, it's a goddamned marathon (two or three marathons, even!), and I'm just starting out. I am losing exactly how much I set out to (~ 2 lbs/week) and am on track to have a 10lb loss per month. And because of this, I need to start thinking about my rewards system. 

I knew the best person for this job would be my longest friend, Amber, so on Wednesday after my morning workout and haircut (supplementary photos are all on my Instagram Follow Me HERE!), I hopped on the train to NYC to meet her for dinner. Per my sister's instructions, we had decided on a healthy restaurant earlier in the week - a great place in Chelsea that specializes in vegetable plates called Westville. The portions were ginormous, and I was able to take home leftovers of roasted cauliflower, sautéed brussell sprouts, and shaved artichoke hearts, as well as most of my salmon and quinoa salad entree.

Breakfast (TL): Steel cut oats w/ 2 tbs natural peanut butter and 1/2 apple.
Lunch (TR): Grilled chicken and eggplant salad over mesclun w/ dijon vinaigrette.
Dinner: Blackened salmon w/ quinoa salad and roasted tomatoes. Market veggie plate.

 As we dined on this deliciousness, I asked Amber to help me out with coming up with some rewards for myself. She immediately started plotting. Knowing about my financial constraints (*shakes fist at hiatus/unemployment in the entertainment industry*), she tried to keep the rewards as cheap as possible, even coming up with a few free options. We agreed that the rewards shouldn't be weight dependent, so no food treats, not too many interim clothes, etc. We even tried to think of things that would be health promoting treats, an expensive exercise classes a la Soul Cycle, or a high end sports accessories from Athleta or lululemon. That night, even though I was exhausted from walking all over NYC, I continued brainstorming ideas. I never thought I was an incentive based worker, but it turns out I might be! My list is still in the works, but I can't wait to share it with all of you.

Thursday was supposed to be my rest day, I swear. I woke up, put on makeup, did my hair, and made a delicious brunch with my leftover veggies, quinoa salad, and added chicken sausage for some protein. I was planning on hanging out, writing up my blog entry and catching up on all the TV I'd missed since beginning my travels. But as soon as my mom asked if I'd want to go to the beach with one of our oldest family friends, I couldn't resist putting on my sneakers and abandoning all thoughts of resting. Though the walk was slow paced (my family friend hadn't seen me in two years and led about an hour long inquisition of my life -- she's not on FB, haha), it was still a good 3 mile loop. I felt proud of myself that I didn't feel resentful of being asked to exercise on my rest day. At no point during our walk did I even feel like I was exercising. I was simply catching up with an old friend.

Brunch (TR): 1 link chicken sausage over 1/4 cup quinoa salad, 1 cup roasted veggies.
Dinner (BR): Balsamic chicken over 1/4 cup cooked quinoa, zucchini, tomatoes, and mesclun.

The highlight of my week, however, was yesterday. After my morning workout (an intense leg day of a one mile treadmill warm up, weighted lunges, squats, deadlifts, leg extensions, leg curls, leg press, and finishing up with 100 weighted crunches), I showered and got ready to go back into NYC with my mom to meet up with her best friend since childhood (whom I call my "other mother"). I spoiled myself and used a bunch of my mom's fancy makeup (even getting her to give me a few of the items she'd impulse purchased and didn't end up liking after a few uses!), and sent this picture to my boyfriend. He called me immediately. "Your face looks so skinny, <insert nauseating pet name here>!" he said. I scoffed. How could this be? I'd only been gone a little over a week, maybe it was just the angle of the picture? I took another one from straight on and asked, "Really?" At this point, I hadn't yet weighed myself, so I kind of thought he was just being overly sweet and brushed it off. But as I scrolled through the week since I left LA, I could see he maybe wasn't being insincere. My cheeks and chin had started to subside. And I was feeling great about it. 

Invigorated and "feeling pretty" for the first time in...I don't even know how long, I walked through the city going picture crazy. I stopped and took photos of the flowers in bloom on Park Avenue, I made us pause at Intermix and take a picture on their couch. I smiled and laughed a lot. By the time the sun was starting to go down, I realized we'd walked about 60 blocks, just window shopping. Our feet were aching, and none of us had brought jackets with us, so we needed to find a restaurant for dinner. My other mother recommended a small Italian place by her apartment, and I was able to look at the menu and pick out about three healthy options before even sitting down. After my exercise intense day, I splurged on a glass of red wine with my dinner, and didn't even feel tempted to join in pre-meal bread eating. A first, for sure. 

I was the definition of happiness, even as we said goodbye and headed back to the car. Fully situated, I pulled up my health app, curious to see how many steps we'd actually taken around the city and was shocked to see that we'd almost cleared 13,000 steps, just over 6 miles (and that wasn't counting my mile on the treadmill earlier in the morning!). I was overwhelmed. I turned on the radio and attempted to sing along, but I was so damn happy that I kept getting choked up and being unable to continue. Though I am a crier (the HomeAway commercial with the dog getting left behind brings literal tears to my eyes), I couldn't remember the last time I'd been too emotionally overwhelmed to sing. I think my body is just so relieved I'm actually doing something to make so many positive changes that it sort of went into shock.

I'm grateful for my tears, though. They remind me to keep going. That this is the right path for me. That even though I'm just beginning, and I know there will be bad times and harder times ahead, I can enjoy pushing myself and coasting through this tidal wave of happiness right now. That I'm allowed to feel happy at any weight. As always, let's keep doing this. 

DAYS 7 & 8

This entry is brought you by the letters P. M. and S.

I once read an article that said most diets that start on a Monday are broken by the end of the week, and for some reason that's always stuck with me. I think the actual message of the article was that people who view their food intake as a "diet" are the ones who give up and fail, but I have always taken it literally (if you were wondering why I started my journey last Tuesday, that's why).

Yesterday, I was thoroughly enjoying my day off from working out (and heading over to one of my best friend's apartments to spend some time writing), when a sharp pain stabbed into my lower stomach. It subsided quickly and then struck again a few minutes later. Fuck, I thought. Was it time for my period already (or as I've started calling it thanks to a clever co-worker, my moon time)? In all my excitement about starting this new healthy life, I failed to remember that my period was on its way, which is kind of insane because as my close friends and family know, my period turns me into a sad baby overwhelmed by the crippling pain of stomach cramps and lower back pain. These symptoms have only gotten worse with my weight gain. According to my extensive internet research (trying to figure out at home remedies for cramping), I learned that my extra fat actually has an estrogenic effect on my glands. This excess estrogen creates a myriad of problems including emotional upheaval, irritability, sadness, and last but definitely not least...debilitating cramps. Sounds like fun, right?

So, as I circled looking for a spot, getting more and more annoyed, I turned the wheel in the opposite direction and made a bit of a detour to a corner market where I grabbed a bottle of wine and looked for something chocolate. I knew it wasn't the best decision, but I felt like I NEEDED it. How would I be productive if I was miserable, I reasoned with myself. The options were limited, so I grabbed a bag of Milanos and a bottle of red wine and continued on my way.

Upon arriving, I inhaled the bag of cookies. Only sparing two for my friend, because I knew otherwise I would eat the whole thing. 14 cookies and two glasses of wine later, I was still unsatisfied. The wine had relaxed my muscles enough that the cramps no longer felt like a demon baby was trying to claw its way out of my uterus, but the cookies had only satiated my emotional hunger, not my desire for real food. I input the cookies into my nutrition tracker and gasped. I had consumed almost a thousand calories worth of empty food, making me almost 500 calories over my approximate limit for the day. And I hadn't even had dinner yet! I felt guilty. How could I have done that to myself? I continued sipping on my wine, hoping I'd be able to do without dinner, but as the evening continued and the hours passed, I knew I needed dinner.  Luckily, I remembered I'd left some Trader Joe's ravioli in my friend's freezer a few weeks ago! Not the best choice, but better than ordering takeout. Unfortunately, she'd eaten the ravioli, and I finally gave in. I needed to order food. The only restaurant open was a Thai place down the block, so I ordered my favorite curry and a side of rice. I ate all the rice with half the container of curry in record time (yet again), and immediately regretted it. I felt completely bloated, filled way too far, and immediately the guilty and berating thoughts appeared. "You're such an idiot," I thought. "This is why you're so fat. You'll never succeed at this rate. You're such a disappointment."

I couldn't sit there anymore stewing in my shame and discomfort (plus, by this time it was about 1 am), so I took off. As I was outside and walking to my car, a gross thought entered my head - "You could make yourself puke," I thought. "No one's around. No one would ever know. You don't have to feel this full." I'm not going to lie, this wasn't the first time those thoughts had appeared. And I'm loathe to admit that I've done it a handful of times, just wanting to forget about the food I'd gorged on earlier. But I stopped myself this time. Yes, I had eaten too much. Yes, I didn't feel well. Yes, I'd made bad decisions. But making myself throw up was not going to help, and it most definitely wasn't the way to a happier and healthier life. I had to acknowledge that and accept that. Berating myself wasn't going to change the fact that I'd eaten too much. And it certainly wasn't going to make me feel better. In fact, if anyone actually talked to me the way I talk to myself, I would have cut them out of my life a LONG time ago.

So today, as I wallowed with my heating pad in day two of my heinous cramps, I realized the first thing I really need to do this week. I need to say goodbye to that terrible voice in my head that tells me I'm worthless. That voice sucks. She's mean and a bully. She's toxic, like that terrible girl from high school you always wanted to impress but knew she'd never give you the time of day. I think by working on getting rid of her, it will free my head to think in a more positive direction without fear of being reprimanded for failing. Because the truth is, I'm going to fail. There are going to be shitty days, days where I can't get out of bed, days where I will fall down and miss the mark. But that's okay. In a week of successful eating and working out, one bad day (even if it's really really bad) isn't the end of the world. And it certainly doesn't warrant me treating myself poorly. I need to stand up to that voice and tell her to fuck off. So, that's what I'm going to do. Today is a new day, and I've lived through it successfully.

On a separate note, does anyone have any suggestions for making it through your period cravings in a healthy way? Are there any tricks of the trade? Next month I want to be as prepared as I can be. Because, as always, I'm going to keep doing this.