Thursday update

Breakfast: Pepsi
Lunch: 4 Chick-fil-A Nuggets from coworker 1, half-chicken salad on wheat from Co-Worker 2, the other half of the now room-temp Pepsi from breakfast.

If we are what we eat, then what am I?

Deep breath...without further ado... here's what I put in my mouth this week.

And before any of you even ask, no I didn't forget the breakfast items. I just didn't have any.

Monday
Lunch: Dr. Pepper
Dinner: Lemon Pepper fish (Tilapia, I think), collard greens (boiled, not braised), sliced tomatoes

Tuesday
Lunch: Turkey Burger Patty, Potatoes, leftover collards
Dinner: Popeyes Strips, Cajun Fries

Wednesday
Lunch: 1/2 California Roll, 1/2 Crunchee Roll
Dinner: Oatmeal

Tell the truth and shame the deviled eggs

I'd like to start this post with a short story.

Yesterday, I went to the dentist for my 6-month cleaning. He found a small cavity...yikes!!!

Doc was astonished, because my teeth were so healthy just 6 short months ago. He asks, “Have you been eating a lot of chewy candy or something?”

I reply, with a look of absolute innocence as I think about the Starburst and Laffy Taffy habit that has turned into nearly a crack addiction, “No, doctor.”

The End.

Also yesterday, a blog visitor asked what was I doing differently with food to achieve the new body I longed for in the "Farewell" post. It got me to thinking a lot about what I've eaten since I started working out so hard, and the truth is... I really haven't done anything different.

My work days are hectic, and I'm legendary for making a lunch out of say, Skittles, homemade deviled eggs and peanut butter pretzels scrounged from co-workers. It's not that I love those food combinations, it's just that they were nearby. And yes, that IS what I ate today. 

Clearly, with the cavity news and the diet inquiry, the Food Angels are trying to get me to take a closer look at how, when, what, and why I eat.

I pledge to all of you -- my three blog readers -- that I will document in this public forum, everything I eat and drink for the next week. 

If I know I have to tell all of you the truth about what I eat, maybe I'll make better choices out of shame, which will lead me to making better choices out of desire. We'll see.

Farewell to arms (and butts and hips and thighs)

Now that my armpits have returned to normal, I am on to obsessing over other parts of my body, specifically my hips, thighs and upper arms which have all somehow taken on a life of their own.

I’m not gonna beat myself up about it (or allow anyone else to do so), but I am going to wage war against the wideness like I’m the U.S. and my hips are N. Korea. (Or, would I rather be N. Korea, because they can probably win….?) Either way, it’s on! And by “on,” I mean the wideness is coming off.

I hereby declare that between now and some vague day in early Spring 2010, I will:

I can do this. I know I can.

The plan is already in full effect. I ran two very slow, very sweaty and very painful miles yesterday, but I felt great when it was all done. Except for the sweating part, but I guess that’s what N. Korea would call collateral damage.

I didn’t even care that two little barefoot babies streaked by me like 10 times with their ponytails just bouncing like running full speed was nothing to them. Or, that a size 2, geriatric grandmother with silver hair swooped past me, walking faster than I was running. Nope, none of that bothered me. Because I was out there, slowly but surely, one step at a time, running my way closer to bidding farewell to arms (and butts and hips and thighs).

Trying not to sweat it

I’ve been in a fight with my own armpits ever since the outside temps rose above 68 degrees.

For reasons unknown to me, I turned into sweaty girl when summer came, and, if you know me at all, you know that I have a thing for being clean. I bathe frequently. And by bathe, I mean, fill the bath with hot, steaming water, scrub forcefully until the skin tingles lightly, then stand up and rinse in the shower. On hot days, I have been known to do this at least 3 times.

I love it. Probably was a mermaid in a past life. Or, a glutton for punishment.

The pits sent me on several trips to the local Wally world on a mission to find something, anything…to beat the heat.

I must have spent about $59.62 on different products before I found THE ONE. Degree Clinical Strength. Powder scented, with TRIsolid technology, and a 20% drying ingredient that I can’t pronounce or spell. Even the $12.00 price tag for deodorant was irrelevant, because I needed to be dry. I had to be dry.

Common sense should have told me that any deodorant with technology probably was a bad idea.

The box said you get the best results when you apply it night and morning, so I did just that for about four days and nights before I awoke to something odd. My right armpit was not…feeling…quite…right.

And by that, I mean, the whole area was hard and swollen, like the Yellow Jacket Boyz had gotten in there and had a stinging contest. What tha fuh….? AAwwwwarggghhhouch! Sweet baby Jesus, it hurt. Sweet Father Lord in heaven, it was bad. Merciful Father of Creation, I was in pain.

But dummy me, I got up that day and applied more deodorant. Because I can take the pain, but I can’t take the sweat. Hours later, at work, I Googled my armpit situation and learned that superduper strength deodorant can sometimes have adverse effect, you know, like, clogging up your sweat glands.

Needless to say, I took to the bath as soon as I could, scrubbing and exfoliating with all I had. I went about a week without deodorant, and guess what? I didn’t need it! That’s how serious that stuff is.

It finally went away and I went back to my regular scheduled program. Unless my armpits open up and a waterfall pours out, you can bet I’m never doing that again.