Beck's Diet Solution - for me?

I picked up this book at the library last night. It's one that's been in my consciousness for a while. I even looked at it once and thought - wow, that seems like a lot of work - and put it down. But it's a six-week program that promises to change the way I think about eating, and that sounds like a giant relief. So I am willing to do a little work.

The way it's laid out is that there's a step to do each day, or attempt to do until it's mastered. The first day was to write on a notecard the reasons why I want to lose weight. Here's what I came up with:

• I want to look strong & sexy.
• I will be able to wear cooler clothes and shop in boutiques!
• I will be able to stop worrying about my weight.
• I will conquer my food issues.
• Nakedness.

Pretty succinct, but how glorious would it be to really stop worrying about my weight, stop watching it creep up, stop thinking about food as, alternately a dangerous and wily enemy and cuddly source of nuturing love and numbness? Pretty glorious.

late lunch

tuna melt
greens

5pm

Hey look what i can do!

OK, nevermind, I was going to post the label for my tuna melt that I created on Nutritiondata.com but apparently that's a no-no. The site is pretty sweet, though.

But anyway, it says my tuna melt has 361 calories. Yum.

Mission Success.

WILL. BE. MINE.

I am done. Done with my own excuses. Success begins now.

I am on a mission of failure

So this was supposed to be it. The time that I finally got my shit together and really stopped eating like a fool and actually lost weight. I made it the title of my blog! I have a statement! I am supposed to lose 30 pounds by my 30th Birthday. And I haven't lost any. Not one. Or I have, maybe one or two, and then I promptly gained them back. I'm teetering on the edge of 200 pounds. That's fucking scary. And it seems like such a long way back to where I was just a few years ago. When I moved out to LA, I weighed about 175. That's how I still think of myself, and yet I'm getting further from there, like every month.

So what now?

My mom and sister and I are going to Key West for my 30th Birthday. It's hot there. I will likely have to wear a bathing suit. I want to like the way I look in it.

My online food diary:

Breakfast:

Coffee, 16 oz with 2 packets raw sugar and 1/2 &1/2
Oatmeal - one packet with 6 walnut halves, chopped.

Detox Week!

Last week I ate no meat, dairy or sugar or white flour and consumed no alcohol for FIVE WHOLE DAYS! Well, almost. I broke the detox at 7ish on Friday at husband's work Xmas party. It did feel pretty good, though. Healthy, but kinda difficult. I'm a cream and sugar in my coffee kinda gal. I love cheese. Focusing on bringing lots of fruits, veggies and whole grains into my diet was good. I made quinoa for the first time. It was pretty tasty, like couscous only with a distinct nuttiness. I had sauteed spinach for the first time in ages, I'd forgotten how much I love it. I think I had more veggies in the last week than in the last month. And a lot of soy, which reminded me how I survived seven years as a vegetarian.
Then the weekend came. Why can I not be trusted around baked goods? Why do I follow something less than ideally healthy with more less than ideally healthy food? Do i just need to follow the sort of strict eating plan I concocted last week? It honestly felt good. I allowed myself to be a little hungry. I didn't focus on chocolate of sugary stuff because I wasn't going to eat it. I wan't allowed. Could I do that for a longer time? Could I do that forever? Would it be worth it? Why am I asking so many questions to the empty empty interwebs? I know who I should be asking. Me.

Hip-hop pottomus

Photo by Sabrina Campagna via FlickrLast night, I went with a friend to a long-discussed hip hop class. At a real-live dance studio. With real dancers. It was a blast. I haven't danced on a regular basis since high school, when my career in musicals was cut short by the director's unfortunate choice of "My Fair Lady" as my senior-year musical. I had campaigned for "Grease," having wanted to play Rizzo forevah. Nary a jazz hand since.
Although the dancers last night were almost all - ok maybe all - better and smoother and hip-hoppier than I am, it was great to move my body like that. To allow it to have some attitude, and a little sexiness. It felt great to sweat unconsciously, because I was just trying to keep up, to learn the next move.
I was, however, extremely body-conscious. I was in a room full of people who take dance pretty seriously, and their bodies show it. They were thin, strong, beautiful. I felt rather huge and clumsy in comparison. Granted, even at the thinnest I would ever want to be, I'd still be way bigger than most of those girls, and several of the guys. I'm 5'9", built like I should be pushing a plow through a giant field of wheat. So whatever. I know that, and mostly it's ok. I just miss the feeling of being at home in my body. I almost never do. Right now, it just feels like too much.
The teacher last night was great. Complimentary without being schmaltzy, with enviable moves and attitude. I can't wait to go back to her class, which I'll definitely do soon. Until then, I'll practice my pop and um...little groove.