The Skinny Jeans Story

When skinny jeans came into fashion, there was an outcry – what person in their right mind who didn't have Kate Moss legs wear these things?! And yet, they persisted. "Oh, I could NEVER wear those," I thought when I saw them, but secretly, I coveted them. Slinky dark wash jeans with black high heels? Bright red ballet flats? ME WANT.

But I could NEVER wear those.

I used to work in Kensington Market in Toronto for a lovely Mexican/Italian man who owned a trendy little shop there. He told me I should wear skinny jeans. I snorted – yeah, right! But he was serious. He said I should show off my curves and what he called my "Brazilian body" (uhhh sure – I'm as white as white comes, but I do have a large butt, so I guess that's good?).

NOT going to happen. But still, my eye would catch on magazine spreads with models wearing skinny jeans, white t-shirts, and trendy hip-length vests with long silver chains around their necks (and of course, the giant sunglasses).

I've struggled with my weight since I left Toronto and went from walking EVERYWHERE and playing ultimate four nights a week to an office job where I drive back and forth (and still play sports four nights a week). When I moved out I thought, hmm, I could stand to lose ten pounds. That was two years ago, and I've GAINED ten pounds (from an injury) since then, lost most of it despite being in a car accident, and right now struggle just to stay at the weight I moved out here at, despite being quite active (I even completed my first triathlon this summer!).

So, this isn't a story of how I was fat, lost the weight, and now I wear my skinny jeans, hooray! There's nothing wrong with that story – but it isn't mine. And it won't ever be, not because I don't think I'll lose the weight I want to, but because I wear my skinny jeans right now.

Last Christmas I was shopping for new jeans online (which my astute partner saw and immediately shoved his credit card at me because he's awesome and hates shopping for gifts for me – fair enough) and I saw them. My dark skinny jeans in a style I knew fit me.

On sale.

DONE.

And they came and I loved them. Maybe I don't look like Keira Knightly in them, but you bet your ass I rock them with my black heels.

"Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today."

Now I HAVE To Do This

It has been horribly cold and rainy and overcast all week. This is our typical May long weekend weather, albeit a few days late. I am sensibly concerned about the weather for this triathlon because I hate running about the city while soaking wet. Perhaps this is unreasonable. However, since I live in a province where it snows every damn month of the year (the first year I was here, the only month it didn't snow was August. True story.), I think of it as good survival instincts.

Here is the current forecast for Sunday (a large improvement over the one from a few days ago which said NO SUN FOR YOU and also here's a 12 degree high):

TheWeatherNetwork.ca

I had one of the worst runs every last night, which included me stopping at 4.5km to have a cry, then back to finish at 5.5km, despite planning to do 10km, or 8km if I beat my PB time (ahahahahaha). My knee was grumping at me, and it just set off a chain of "why can't I control anything in my life, and nothing goes according to plan, and some things are so up in the air and WHY CAN'T THE CAT AND DOG GET MARRIED AHHHHH". When Tom got home, I was lying on the couch with ice on my knee, and what must have been an impressive scary face because he took one look and said "um, should I go get some chocolate?" - hands off, he's mine.

There are two easy ways to tell my stress level: what am I eating, and how am I running. Considering the M&M cookies I just inhaled as well as last night's breakdown, we can safely put me in the Stress Code Red category. The triathlon is causing me stress, but mostly it's Big Life Decisions ™ that are all hanging in the balance right now until further moves are made. Last night I was seriously considering pulling out of the race, but I told one of the managers at work about entering it (d'oh) and he told the entire team in a meeting today (double d'oh).

Also, because apparently my amnesia has sufficiently kicked in, I may be doing the MS Ride in June (160km in two days). That's a lot shorter than the RTCC (220km in two days), so it'll be a piece of cake, right? RIGHT?!

I need more cookies.

Be Vewry Vewry Qwuiet

You may have noticed that I haven't mentioned my knee lately.

SHHHH!!! It'll hear you! It can sense weakness.

It's actually been holding up pretty well (*knocks on every available surface*) which my awesome RMT thinks is because my hamstrings are getting stronger, thus keeping my knee in line. So it turns out I was right – running is both the cause of, and answer to, my knee problem.

In other training news, I've found that my distance runs (or runs I do as the second half of a brick workout) come with what I can best describe as joint pain in my knees. Now I feel old. Thanks a lot, training. Yesterday I did 19km on a stationary bike followed by a 5km run. I felt really good (except for the joint pain) and I'm hoping the weather will hold/I can trick my bike back into rideable shape so I can try out the bike tri course this afternoon.

On a completely unrelated note, I need a cup of coffee. I learned today that making bad coffee stronger does not make it better. Who knew?

P.S. Since I've sort of been phoning in these posts, here's a link to something awesome.

Rants And Updates

It's been a rough couple of days back-wise (SIGN!*) which means I couldn't work out as much as I wanted. I missed a run *frown* which was especially hard since Tom went on a run without me and I stayed behind, watching Criminal Minds and eating staring longingly out the window. I am trying to be good and rest when I'm hurting so that I don't make it worse (bet you can guess how well THAT's going).

The funny thing is that I can run, bike, and swim usually completely pain-free. I can also lie down (like a CHAMP). What I can't do is sit. Which makes for awkward times at work, and at home when I always feel lazy for lying down instead of sitting like a normal person.

/Injury Du Jour Rant

In other news, we are heading out to Jasper sometime soon (try and schedule around THAT burglars) for a rugby tournament which I plan to photograph. Hooray for using my expensive camera! I haven't purchased a decent telephoto lens for it yet, but I'm hoping to take advantage (tee hee) of the higher fps to get some good action shots.

/Nerdy Photography Talk

If you are a runner, or a person who likes to read good blogs, check out my new BFF (only she doesn't know it yet – creepy FTW!) over at I Came To Run. But don't enter her giveaway. THAT PRIZE IS MINE.

Only five weeks until my first triathlon! SCARED!

*Tom holds up a pretend sign every time I complain about my back or knee. Apparently I mention it a lot. I think that is a wild exaggeration.

Day Six and Seven: The Final Results!

So after a brutal six days, Tom and I kyboshed the total no-carb diet. My urine turned orange on Saturday (how's that morning coffee tasting?), which Dr. Google informed me is a sign of ketones, an indicator of anemia, liver disease, and/or diabetes. Now, obviously one day of this does not mean I have any of those conditions; what it does mean is that my body was in distress. Ketones are formed when the liver glycogen stores are depleted (Wikipedia). I knew that part of the no-carb process was to deplete that store in order to force your body to draw energy from fats and proteins instead of carbohydrates (which are a "cheap" form of energy). But there is something that doesn't feel right about forcing my body into that kind of distress.

The symptoms we experienced during this diet were:

1. Bitchiness

Let's just say it was a good thing Tom was away for work most of the week.

2. Stomach pain/severe nausea

It was bad. To be fair, I think a lot of this came from suddenly eating a ton of cheese (I usually never do) and eating high sodium, high fat meats like turkey/chicken pepperoni snausages or whatever they are.

3. Fogginess/confusion/utter stupidity

We would forget words. There were several times I didn't feel safe to drive. It was almost like being buzzed all the time without it being any fun.

4. Weakness and general sucking for workouts

I added 15% to my swim time, and a whopping 20 minutes to my bike time (BRUTAL). I felt awful during my workouts and my times really suffered.

5. Losing weight very quickly

My starting weight was 153.2 pounds. The lowest I weighed during the six days was on the fifth day at 144.5 pounds. That's an 8.7 pound loss in five days (!). While the numbers are fun to look at, I can't believe that this is a healthy way for me to shed pounds. And the way I felt was honestly not worth it. I was sleeping 9-10 hours a night and still needing an hour nap each day. I woke up dreading the day because of what I would have to eat; everything I could eat made me nauseated. Opening the fridge would actually make me choke back bile (and not just because I haven't cleaned the fridge in a while).

There are some positives to take away from this experiment.

1. I do consume a lot of easily removed carbs.

Although delicious, I don't NEED to have sugar in my coffee every day. A meal doesn't HAVE to have a bread component to be complete. Eating three yogurts and two pieces of fruit a day is probably excessive.

2. Eating more veggies is easy if I pay attention to it.

One meal I really enjoyed on this diet was tuna salad (with mayo) that I ate using cucumber slices as "scoops". It was like dipping tortilla chips (same crunch) and I didn't need bread to eat my tuna (although I do love me some tuna sammich).

3. Planning meals makes a huge difference.

If you're just grabbing food, you make poor choices. A little planning ahead can mean you eat with purpose instead of mindlessly. On that same note, it is VERY easy to mindless eat carbs. It's as if your body doesn't have an off switch to tell you that's enough. When you are eating protein or fat foods, your body  has a trigger finger on that off switch, and it'll let you know when enough's enough.

For the next week (at least), we're still eliminating refined carbs (sorry Shreddies, I still love you!) and milk. We've added back in fruit and potatoes in limited amounts. Hopefully that will help us find a bit more balance.

Swimming: A How-To Guide

Swimming starts with the time-honoured tradition of changing in a room full of other womenfolk, half of whom don't give a damn who sees them naked and half of whom have a constant look of terror in their eyes and seem to be hiding government secrets under their towels. Sprinkle in a few teenagers with perfect bodies complaining about their "chub" (deep breaths….must not comment). Having successfully navigated this stage, you jump under the shower to rinse off in order to keep the pool clean (HA) under nice warm water. Then you walk out of the change room and are treated to the blank stares of the people in the hot tub. Quick, to the water!

Slide in from the side and oh holy jebus, that's cold. You must get your head under water and start moving, or else you will bolt back out and into the hot tub. Ignoring your sense of self-preservation, dog-paddle across the length in the slow "lane", which is really two lanes filled with people floating in diagonal lines, making them impossible to pass, or water jogging. I can't even talk about water jogging.

http://www.lustroushenna.com/.a/6a013483f8bf49970c0133f4906221970b-320pi

These people kick me. A lot.

Ok, made it to the end! Duck under the torture rope lane divider and put on your goggles. To keep out water, they'll have to be tight enough to leave extremely attractive racoon eye rings. You will have to do this while old men who aren't even wearing swimsuits sit in plastic chairs at the edge of the pool. They will not move the entire time you are there.

Start swimming! If you're me, that means twisting your body completely to the side to compensate for that shoulder problem, and constantly forgetting to kick. Considering I have wee tyrannosaurus arms with bad shoulders, I have no idea how I manage to actually get anywhere. Stop every lap and half to cough out the gallon of pool water you've inhaled. Allow many people to pass you. Swear enthusiastically when you realize that almost everyone else is swimming with fins or some sort of hand paddle that makes them go really fast (and scrape your leg with the hand paddle if they are in the lane beside you). Swear even more when you realize the guy in his fifties who has passed you twice ISN'T wearing fins or hand paddles.

http://www.kiefer.com/_Images%5CBlobs%5C660182-kiefer-stroke-perfection-swimming-hand-paddle.jpg

Weapons of severe scratching.

When you're finally done, drag yourself back to the change room. Catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror with ratty chlorine hair, red racoon-goggle eyes, and mascara smeared back to your ear because you forgot to take off your make up. Feel pretty. Frighten teenage twigs. Feel better.

Repeat weekly.

Mission:DIET

I think I've lost the same six pounds at least four times now.

It's frustrating; I go all "MISSION:DIET" for a few weeks, lose those six pounds, and hit the big scary wall of 150lbs. Then, I get frustrated to see the scale not move, or worse, wildly swing up and down from 148 (yay!) to 153 (buh?!).

I recently read Portia de Rossi's book, "Unbearable Lightness". It was a chilling account of how a seemingly healthy diet led to her lowest weight of 82 pounds. But the part that has stuck with me the most is the epilogue, where the author describes her post-recovery life with her wife Ellen Degeneres, and her current relationship with food. She doesn't think about food anymore. Let me repeat that.

She doesn't think about food anymore.

If she wants some ice cream, she eats it. If she feels like celery, she eats it. And she maintains her weight at 130lbs (at 5'7", this is still slim, but more importantly, she feels healthy). Part of the reason I get frustrated about six weeks (or six pounds) into a diet is that I'm exhausted from focusing so much on what I'm eating and when. The focus is often on what I can't have, and it's mentally exhausting. I start to feel like I don't deserve to eat this or that. And I don't think that's a healthy way to think.

My body deserves food – it deserves good food that will help fuel it. That doesn't mean it deserves McDonald's, not because McDonald's is "bad" for me, but because when I eat McDonald's, I feel terrible. Start paying attention to how you feel after any given meal – it's easy to divorce that reaction from what you ate, but I've been trying lately to connect it in a meaningful way. Then, when I'm craving those tasty McNuggets, I think about how I felt after I ate them last time. Is it worth it?

In an effort to break through this plateau, I'm going to try a new approach for this week. Instead of fixating on the food (although I'm still trying to make healthier choices), I'm going to try and burn 3,500 calories this week (or the equivalent of one pound of fat). I don't know how it will affect my weight loss, but at least it might give me a week of mental rest.