I went on a hike yesterday along the Coastal Trail on the western edge of the Presidio with Vivek. We meant for this to be more of a leisurely hike, but we walked almost the full length of the beach and of course went up and down the steep paths.
Today, then, is a day of rest. I'm working from home this a.m., so breakfast of acai berry tea and a yogurt-cereal bowl with Kashi Go Lean, vanilla TJ's yogurt, blueberries and dried cranberries. Yum.
January 12, 2009
January 10, 2009
Workout #3
I traded today's scheduled 2-mile walk for a 10-mile bike ride with Vivek -- including my new bike's inaugural ride over the Golden Gate Bridge. I'm super excited to say that this was the first time I was able to make the final climb to the bridge without getting off and pushing my bike up the hill. In fact, I didn't have to get off the bike until the last half-block of the ride. I am, however, going to be quite sore tomorrow, I do believe.
As we often do on our rides, we stopped and took a break for lunch at Marina Sub. Chewing slowly and enjoying every bite was a tough task after waiting more than 20 minutes for our turkey sub, but I tried as hard as I could. French Onion Sun Chips for a side dish. Delish all around.
As we often do on our rides, we stopped and took a break for lunch at Marina Sub. Chewing slowly and enjoying every bite was a tough task after waiting more than 20 minutes for our turkey sub, but I tried as hard as I could. French Onion Sun Chips for a side dish. Delish all around.
January 9, 2009
Yum, chicken
Yum, grilled chicken breast. Yum vinaigrette. Yum salad and cucumbers.
Mostly, yum butternut squash soup made with sage, cream and chestnuts. Delish.
Mostly, yum butternut squash soup made with sage, cream and chestnuts. Delish.
Workout #2
OK, I did it. I hauled myself into the gym. It wasn't a stellar workout -- 30 minutes of walking at a 3.5 to 3.8 mi/hr pace, 2 measly minutes (at a 1:1) of 5 mi/hr running, and 3 whole minutes (whoa!) on the elliptical.
But hey, it was something.
Breakfast: Rye toast, low fat cream cheese, lox. And sips from a Naked probiotic drink. (The whole thing has 180 calories, so I'm trying to make it last all morning.)
And, of course, coffee. My beloved coffee.
But hey, it was something.
Breakfast: Rye toast, low fat cream cheese, lox. And sips from a Naked probiotic drink. (The whole thing has 180 calories, so I'm trying to make it last all morning.)
And, of course, coffee. My beloved coffee.
January 8, 2009
The Back-Story
Every good diet-and-exercise blog has to start out with a story, right? Right. So here's mine:
I've always wanted to lose weight. I have some fairly odd childhood memories of thinking I was fat, actually. The JCPenny catalog listed shipping weights for its items -- typically 0.75, 0.6, 0.9 for kids' clothing. I would look at the catalog, however, and think this odd decimal number somehow corresponded to the weight of the child the clothes would fit -- and as I did the math, I was too heavy for the clothes. Go figure.
I also couldn't do a chin-up (and still can't, even when I'm exercising) and ran quite slowly in gym class and, later, at field hockey practice. Surely, then, I was fat.
In middle school, convinced of my weight issues, I started eating salads with no dressing to cut calories. I'd sometimes skip lunch or pack odd low-fat (but nutritionally devoid) items such as marshmallow sandwiches. (Um, yuck.)
In college, I found a rare dieting salvation: I lost weight without even trying. I'd come from a family who loved eating (I was never, ever sent to bed without supper) in a small town where driving was much more common than walking. On my college campus, I was walking -- to class, to the grocery store, to see friends. I climbed stairs. I carried books around. And I ate sensibly; a meal plan with only 2.5 cafe visits per day will do that to you. After just a few months, I noticed that my legs were thinner. From somewhere near 150, my weight moved closer to 140. Hallelujah!
It got even better! In my junior year, as my first truly serious relationship ended, I had my first slight panic attacks. I dealt with the anxiety (who knew I could be so healthy?) by hitting the gym, at a hardcore pace, three to four times a week. I biked, ran on the treadmill and hit the elliptical. Sometimes I added a weight circuit at the end of the workout. The goal? To ease the miserable feeling in my heart and head. The result? Size 6 jeans, 135 pounds.
I achieved that success, however, with a lopsided approach: My workouts were great, but my nutrition level was crap. A diet of Reese's Pieces for breakfast, a turkey sub and smoothie for lunch, diet Cokes until deadline and frozen sorbet for a late dinner was not unusual. Hardly healthy. Consequently, the weight loss didn't last.
In my last year of college and master's studies, I put on a pound here and there as I focused on graduating. I moved back into my size 8 jeans. It would only get worse as I left school and began working. I spent long hours at my desk or driving from assignment to assignment in my car. I moved, a lot -- too often to ever settle into a routine. And even if I wanted to exercise, there plenty of excuses: The gym in an Indiana apartment complex felt lonely. In Texas, it was hot. (And Bally's was too focused on making a buck.)
In California, however, I did find a plan: A new friend who had just started running and needed a buddy. I trained with her for a 12k and played on a co-ed soccer team with my then-flatmate (now boyfriend). For six months, I was in amazing shape. I could eat whatever I wanted: Bring on the carbs! But as soon as the 12k was over, however, so was my drive to train. I stopped running but kept eating.
It's been a long, two-and-a-half year road since then. I've biked, hiked, sprinted, lifted weights. I've gone from Diet Coke to regular Coke to no Coke and back again. My eating habits have changed from erratic to regular and rich. I now work in a Silicon Valley firm laden with free food. Much of the food there is healthy, but let's be honest: When the choice is between lightly seasoned salmon and BBQ ribs, which are you going to pick?
It's time, however, to end that party. At 159.6 pounds (in workout clothes, holding my iPod, on the gym's digital scale at work -- like the excuses?), I'm about the heaviest I've ever been. I've been hovering at this weight now for about six months. I lose five pounds, I gain it back.
The time is now. My running buddy is back in business; no fewer than two diet books are en route to my office; and I have lots of reasons to shed my extra pounds, not the least of which is my own self-esteem.
The time is now. The pounds are going. And I'm recording it all here.
I've always wanted to lose weight. I have some fairly odd childhood memories of thinking I was fat, actually. The JCPenny catalog listed shipping weights for its items -- typically 0.75, 0.6, 0.9 for kids' clothing. I would look at the catalog, however, and think this odd decimal number somehow corresponded to the weight of the child the clothes would fit -- and as I did the math, I was too heavy for the clothes. Go figure.
I also couldn't do a chin-up (and still can't, even when I'm exercising) and ran quite slowly in gym class and, later, at field hockey practice. Surely, then, I was fat.
In middle school, convinced of my weight issues, I started eating salads with no dressing to cut calories. I'd sometimes skip lunch or pack odd low-fat (but nutritionally devoid) items such as marshmallow sandwiches. (Um, yuck.)
In college, I found a rare dieting salvation: I lost weight without even trying. I'd come from a family who loved eating (I was never, ever sent to bed without supper) in a small town where driving was much more common than walking. On my college campus, I was walking -- to class, to the grocery store, to see friends. I climbed stairs. I carried books around. And I ate sensibly; a meal plan with only 2.5 cafe visits per day will do that to you. After just a few months, I noticed that my legs were thinner. From somewhere near 150, my weight moved closer to 140. Hallelujah!
It got even better! In my junior year, as my first truly serious relationship ended, I had my first slight panic attacks. I dealt with the anxiety (who knew I could be so healthy?) by hitting the gym, at a hardcore pace, three to four times a week. I biked, ran on the treadmill and hit the elliptical. Sometimes I added a weight circuit at the end of the workout. The goal? To ease the miserable feeling in my heart and head. The result? Size 6 jeans, 135 pounds.
I achieved that success, however, with a lopsided approach: My workouts were great, but my nutrition level was crap. A diet of Reese's Pieces for breakfast, a turkey sub and smoothie for lunch, diet Cokes until deadline and frozen sorbet for a late dinner was not unusual. Hardly healthy. Consequently, the weight loss didn't last.
In my last year of college and master's studies, I put on a pound here and there as I focused on graduating. I moved back into my size 8 jeans. It would only get worse as I left school and began working. I spent long hours at my desk or driving from assignment to assignment in my car. I moved, a lot -- too often to ever settle into a routine. And even if I wanted to exercise, there plenty of excuses: The gym in an Indiana apartment complex felt lonely. In Texas, it was hot. (And Bally's was too focused on making a buck.)
In California, however, I did find a plan: A new friend who had just started running and needed a buddy. I trained with her for a 12k and played on a co-ed soccer team with my then-flatmate (now boyfriend). For six months, I was in amazing shape. I could eat whatever I wanted: Bring on the carbs! But as soon as the 12k was over, however, so was my drive to train. I stopped running but kept eating.
It's been a long, two-and-a-half year road since then. I've biked, hiked, sprinted, lifted weights. I've gone from Diet Coke to regular Coke to no Coke and back again. My eating habits have changed from erratic to regular and rich. I now work in a Silicon Valley firm laden with free food. Much of the food there is healthy, but let's be honest: When the choice is between lightly seasoned salmon and BBQ ribs, which are you going to pick?
It's time, however, to end that party. At 159.6 pounds (in workout clothes, holding my iPod, on the gym's digital scale at work -- like the excuses?), I'm about the heaviest I've ever been. I've been hovering at this weight now for about six months. I lose five pounds, I gain it back.
The time is now. My running buddy is back in business; no fewer than two diet books are en route to my office; and I have lots of reasons to shed my extra pounds, not the least of which is my own self-esteem.
The time is now. The pounds are going. And I'm recording it all here.
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