Day Thirty-One: You Like Pissed Off? Watch This.

Today was a #FAIL on the PCP. Probably my worst day ever. Pretty much ate the last of my PCP rations on hand, which included a drinkable yogurt, some bran flakes for breakfast, baby carrots for the a.m. and p.m. snack, some beef and mushrooms via the Crockpot for lunch, and a whole lotta coffee. Imagine my surprise when I was jonesing for fruit and some veggies. A friend suggested we met up for dinner at Noodles ; sounded like we both could use face time, and our kids love each other so why the heck not? I did my homework and looked up the nutritional info compared to my PCP diet requirements. But the meal I got, a small noodle dish and a small salad both with protein, ended up giving me heartburn tonight. UGH. I haven't had that since I was uber preggers six years ago. Fucking sucked. And when I got home, it was incredibly stormy and rainy, so no double header softball nor PCP exercise. And then I saw that I had left the Crockpot full of beef and mushroom out alllllll day long. Ruined. * I knew I would do this shitshitshit* So lack of good food + heartburn + no exercise = grumpapotamus.

I had some time to cool off though. The kid is traveling with her dad this weekend, so I went to Target luxuriously walking the aisles. I scored some more workout clothes and some smellgood soaps to reward myself with after particularly pungent PCP workouts. Tomorrow I will go to my usual Saturday cardio kickboxing and score my much-wanted vegs and fruits (wanted? when did I want vegs and fruit? progress!) at the grocer's and farmer's market. For now, I'm at home regrouping mentally with a DIY mani-pedi and, what luck!, G.I. Jane on TV. Nothing like a little inspiration ...

Day Thirty: The Big 3-0

Wow! It has just dawned on me that I'm a third of the way done with my PCP wave. Crazy! *high five, fellow PCPers!*

One of the factors in my decision to participate in the PCP was the fact I will turn 30 this coming spring. And I've done a lot in my 20s! But one thing eluded me, and that was true, absolute fitness. Which living in Boulder County, Colorado, is EVERYWHERE. I faced the fact that if I truly wanted to be in "peak condition," there were no longer any excuses. Not motherhood. Not the full-time gig. Not the time or money. I really wanted to look as good as I felt emotionally, mentally, spiritually, financially, etc. Feeling pretty good so far about my decision. In my 30th year, I'd like to do BRAN , climb a 14er and maybe run the Bolder Boulder. Looking good nekkid would just be a bonus.

Day Twenty-Nine: And the Cupboard was Bare

Not happy today. Not happy with myself at all.

See I went food shopping last Friday and loaded up on PCP foods to last me the week. But then the weekend came, and so did three guests who ate the food (as they should) and gobbled up any time I typically would have spent prepping any cooked and chopped food for this week. Monday came, and I realized that I had less food than anticipated to get me through to this Friday, which is payday. And while I have some flow in the bank, it's already squirreled away for the kid's doctor's appointment tomorrow. She's been having a minor, yet chronic health issue with her ear this summer. Each doc appt is costing anywhere from $45 to $90, depending on the number of meds she needs. And that's approximately what's left in my bank account for the next two days. So no PCP food shopping until then, which means until then, my diet plan is completely off mark. And I feel it!

I've exhausted all protein options, sans a giant thing of stew beef which after two days is still defrosting in my fridge; can't defrost it in the microwave coz it's from Costco, which means, yes, it really is a huge meat ice cube. Nor will it fit in the Crockpot. Must wait. I feel like I'm burning the candle at both ends. I also rationed out my drinkable yogurts to two a day, two fruits a day, and I'm eating mostly vegs from my garden. Tonight, a friend dropped off a spaghetti squash from his garden for me to try (never ate one before!) and so will give that a go. My dinner tonight: Cream of Wheat with cinnamon and milk. Tasty but not at all PCP. But with this week's rainy, cool weather (think Colorado in March, not late July), I needed something warm and satisfying and this was about as good as it was going to get. I'm bummed, but it's a minor setback.

In better news, I got through my exercises despite being a little pissy about my food situation and the inclement weather. It stopped raining enough for me to feel OK about exercising in the dark and dank >50 degree F temps. This is the kind of weather that typically gets my asthma riled up so I am pretty cautious about being active during these times. But I rocked the jropes and subsequent exercises and can now get on with my life.

Day Twenty-Eight: I Learned It By Watching You!

It was both a blessing and curse to only have 1300 jumpropes today. I was cruising through them, but the last few days my calves and feet are really starting to feel the aches and pain. Am wondering what shin splints are and what they feel like. Definitely since the cankle incident I've been hurting on my left lower shin/ankle area. It creaks. And since bootcamp my right foot across my toes on the top creaks, too, from too mush pushing off for sprints.

I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as I started my jropes on the driveway when one of the little neighborhood girls was walking home with her dad and doggie. I heard her before I saw her: "OH jumproping! Dad I wanna jumprope when I get home!!!" And so she did. They only live a few houses up the street, so I could see her bolt into the garage, grab her pink jumprope and have a go at it on the sidewalk in front of her house. She was cute, about my daughter's age. She was good! She would also watch me do my jropes and mimic me: rope *behind* you to start, let it *smack* the pavement with each rotation, jump at even pace, not too fast nor too slow. At one point I gave her a thumbs up, and she waved. Last week my kiddo was equally intrigued, asking me to show her how to jumprope. She didn't try, but one day she might. See as a kid I LOVED jumproping. It was one of the few things we could do at my elementary Catholic schools because the schools were housed in buildings adjacent to the church; our playgrounds were the church parking lot. Some of my earliest memories of school include jumping rope in my uniform and B&W saddle shoes to "Mary Mary quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" and "Miss Mary Black." Maybe one day I will attempt double dutch again? ;)

Speaking of gardens, I am enjoying some broccoli, zucchinis, and cucumbers on a regular basis. This might be the last of my broccoli, though, as some fat green catepillers feasted on that plant, and my most tomatoes are suffering from bottom-rot. Sad. Am hoping to pick up some veggies from local farmer's market this Saturday; thinking beets, berries, carrots, other? Mad props to any farmer, past and present, who can actually reap what they sow. Tougher than it looks!

Day Twenty-Seven: Love Me Tender

I cannot believe I went this long to decide and have my Indulgence No. 1. I could have used more this last week actually when cravings for chocolate were all-consuming. But when the time came, I had a flood of ideas on how to use my 200-400 calorie indulgence.

Often times, food for me is also about the experience: the restaurant, the view, the location, the ambiance, the crowd. And in the spirit of summer, I chose s'mores for my first indulgence. Since one was approximately 140 calories, I had two. They were glorious! I made them over the fire pit on the patio. It as dark, it was damp from afternoon thunderstorms, and there were coyotes off in the field behind my house howling away. But the s'mores were so worth it. I definitely felt a slight ache in my stomach about 10 minutes after I ate and I used a fair trade dark chocolate, which always contributes that lovey dovey feeling I get after a delish dessert. I'm feeling pretty head over heels smiley right now. Ahhhhh.

Day Twenty-Six: Let Them Eat Cake

Surprise: another weekend throws a wrench into the PCP plan. We have out of state guests for the weekend, which sucks up a lot of time typically spent on planning exercise and food.

Instead I woefully under-ate yesterday. I had taken someone to the Antiques Roadshow in Denver yesterday; tickets said expect two hours. YEAH, not two hours total, but two hours standing in line to just get in to see an appraiser(s). We were there for five hours. I carried this wooden box with an unknown brass instrument (later to be determined some Asian detonation tool for torpedoes, they thought) for these five hours; it weighs nearly 20 pounds. Think about it. Lugging 20 pounds around for five hours. Today my back and upper body muscles are en fuego. (And today my guests want to go for a hike? Mercy!) But yesterday trying to plan ahead, I had packed two drinkable yogurts in a small bag of ice, an apple and a bag of baby carrots. All of which I left in my purse which I left in my car. By the time we got out of the Colorado Convention Center, it was past dinner time so lunch was a moot point. I snarfed down my snacks in the car (YUM) and then had a decent dinner filled with greek tabouleh, zucchini, beets from the garden (not just any garden: my garden!) and a simple burger. The grandparents had brought my little one a Dairy Queen ice cream cake because she starts kindergarten next month. Being the only grandchild has its perks, eh? And while I knew I had an indulgence this week (200-400 calories? think of the possibilities!), this was not my kind of indulgence. Which I know for some people is blasphemous. But I am fully aware that I get three indulgences during these 90 days, so I want to make them count. And if I'm going to get the shakes or nausea from an indulgence, it better taste like heaven in my mouth. So, unbelievable even to me, I declined the ice cream cake and have plans for either tonight or tomorrow for my indulgence.

Also, since I was stuck in the land of old people and even older things yesterday, I missed my PCP exercises and so did Day 25 this a.m. and plan to do Day 26 tonight. I did the a.m. exercises at the park, and now have blood blisters from doing tricep dips on a grated playground surface. Oops. The V-sits and inclined pull-ups continue to torture me. Sweet.

Day Twenty-Five: Under the Influence

This morning I went to my usual Saturday morning cardio kickboxing class, and my Gym Buddy Andrea said she could tell whatever I'm doing was working (yah!). She said my upper body looked more tone; I told her I felt more like a German bodybuilder (no offense, German bodybuilders). But yes, I could tell, too, that my muscles were wanted to break through the surface fat, and once that surface fat is burned off, I will have this beautiful little nugget of muscle, and that's exciting.

I also had people in my life tell me they, too, were investigating the PCP for themselves. Wow! Whenever someone hears about this "thing" I'm doing, they come closer. They ask me very good questions. They've emailed Patrick. They want to know more (deja vu, no?). They have fears. They have goals. I think when people are out of shape, they often can point to the factors of influence that got them overweight. What's nice is that the reverse is also true: fitness has factors of influence that can be positive, and that factor, for once, could be me.

Day Twenty-Four: It's All in the Timing

It's just after 11p.m. MST and I just finished working out and I'm having my evening snack. Dude, where does the time go?

I feel like I can stay on track with PCP most of the time; there've been a few times when I could not find the time to consume one of the food items (typically it's been the one of the night time milk/yogurt, fruit, carb or veg). I've tried to make it up the next day or later in the day if I could. And when I push the exercise into the evening hours, I can really get derailed (am thankful that I have not missed a single exercise yet, but ... it's hard sometimes!). Note to self: do not delay exercises until evening on a weekend coz you're just fucked.

Case in point: since this afternoon I had a meeting at 430p.m. in Boulder, ditched out at 530p.m. to get the kid from preschool, drove to softball game in Longmont to drop off a jersey (but not play) by 6:15p.m. (was late), hurried home on the other side of town to welcome out-of-state guests, go to the grocery store to stock up on PCP goods, tidy up the bedrooms for said guests, eat most of my PCP dinner, digest said dinner and socialize with said guests. And then I worked out, in the dark, in the breeze, under the moon, where the shadows of my flowers spooked the shit out of me and where my tired trips up on the jropes caused me to get very creative with my swearing. The weekends are the worst when it comes to PCP.

My questions include: how important is it to eat our meals at the typical mealtime (breakfast between 6a-8a, lunch midday, dinner 5-7p) because anymore I'm eating lunch at 3p.m. and eating dinner with the 9 p.m. or 10 p.m. newscast. Granted on those nights, I don't get to bed before midnight but I just feel like time is running out on me. And hopefully, like in David Ives' play "Sure Thing," (see this neat YouTube version of the short play, done in Part I and Part II)I'll get chances over and over to get it right.

Day Twenty-Three: Make You Wanna Jump, Jump

The 1,050 jumpropes today made me feel like a bobblehead.

Day Twenty-Two: Fear Factor

Dinner: leftover whole wheat angel hair, salmon with lemon pepper seasoning, and a last-minute salad of cucumber, cherub tomatoes, and red and yellow bell pepper with balsamic dressing. Lizard not included.

New addition to the diet plan this week: yogurt. Three times a day yogurt?!?!? This is more yogurt than I've had, like, ever in my entire life. Trepidation! I just never liked it, not sure if it's a texture, taste or aftertaste kind of thing. But last night I bought some drinkable yogurts and some yoplait Very Vanillas. Now, I've seen people eat yogurt just out of the container or add granola, fruit, honey, etc. But I've never eaten it myself in anyway so was unsure how I should or want to eat yogurt. FYI: Drinkable yogurt was survivable. Very Vanilla went OK with Grape-Nuts but ... will seek other options. And once again I'm realizing something through the PCP. A big barrier in my experience with food is that ... I just don't know how. How to prepare it. How to buy it. How to eat it.

My neighbor Laura brought it up recently, recalling a funny summer memory from last year when her family had ribs for dinner and I sat there curiously looking at it; I asked her how to eat it properly, and she laughed and laughed. It's true: never had a rib before that. Did the same thing a few years ago when I visited a friend of mine in Los Angeles and we went to a sushi restaurant (another first time). I realized people use chopsticks, sure, but were forks or fingers were considered taboo or acceptable? I grew up in a family that had limited budgetary means that matched their taste buds. My mom thought Heinz canned spaghetti sauce was "too spicy" for her liking, so once I was on my own I made some progress, but apparently not enough.

PCP is having me to eat things I wouldn't normally. To stick with PCP, I'm must seek out diverse foods within these food groups (carb, protein, veg, fruit, cheese/yogurt). I don't want to eat a bushel of apples or pineapple for every fruit snack. I like salmon, which means I cannot eat it for every protein portion if I want to continue to like salmon. So now I have a fruit basket in my house! How Rockwellian! I'm learning that certain things like bananas and avocados are better ripe and what that looks like (ohhhhhhhh, see??? this might have contributed to my earlier dislike for produce! Eureeka!) and that certain combinations of food are complimentary. This week alone, I've eaten 1. dates 2. raspberries 3. my own homemade guacamole 4. yogurt 5. filet mignon grilled by me 6. rice cooker rice.

On another note, the exercise seems to be ramping up at a pace to where I'm starting to feel a little intimidated. I think it's the number (1,000+ jump ropes? what comes after? where does it stop?) and the fact I've hit an exercise (the pull-up) that I cannot do, period, and that doing a pull-up, let alone a whole set, might take some time to even achieve if I ever do. Once, after wimping out on a tough exercise, I had a roller derby girl named Venom tell me "C'mon ... You can do anything for 20 seconds!"And ... she was right. That's nothing! And it's my mantra now when I exercise. I can do this set of 15, right? I can jump 10 times 10 times in a row, right? I can attempt one pull-up, right? And I have >70 more days to try.

Day Twenty-One: I Run A Tidy Bakery

I don't know that I've ever had abs, especially as Patrick described in his PCP post today. In fact, I can honestly say that has never, ever been a fitness goal of mine. Am I missing out?

I've wanted toner arms. A trimmer frame. A smaller butt. Abs were an afterthought and, after a pregnancy and emergency C-section that sliced me open like a tauntaun, a fantasy. Like winning the lottery. Confession: I totally kept some maternity shirts in rotation way longer than acceptable for a non-pregnant woman because they hid my food baby. (Don't worry they're gone now)

Even now, I can't say that abs are on my wishlist(not that they aren't), but I can say what I would like to disappear. Remember the best part of the muffin ... is the top. Sing it!

Day Twenty: Ticky Tacky

A few people, including our fearless leader Patrick, have alluded to the fact that a feeling of monotony may be about us in the coming weeks as the novelty and enthusiasm of PCP wears off. I can see that. I stay on track with my exercises, no problem; I can now easily do 100 jump ropes if I flick my wrist, hold the rope just right and keep a steady pace. But when I'm tired, PMSy, hungry, or when my kid is yapping in my ear, it's crossed my mind to cut my reps short or that whatever kink or ailment of the day is enough to postpone the workout, which in my world, there is rarely any time to do something later. There is no later. Reminds me of that saying: If not now, when? If not you, who? No one else is going to get me in peak condition. No better time than now.


Other discoveries:
- Tried Shelby's jam recipe. I used strawberries for one batch, and raspberries for the other. The raspberries were my favorite! What a surprise. Guess what I plan to pick up at the market next time ...
- Do not leave fruit peels or pits in your work garbage, lest you get fruit flies and annoy yourself and co-workers. Lesson learned.
- Over the years I've learned to eliminate any excuses I might invent to avoid or reduce my exercise. Invest in comfy clothes, socks and shoes (for me, it's the perfect fitting pants with buttery soft tees and tanks, often picked up from thrift stores). Trim nails, shave legs, wear deodorant, use the bathroom, brush teeth/chew gum (minty breath goes a long way when you huffing and puffing). Sleep is key; caffeine is only a substitute. Find the right tunes or tune out the world: which do you prefer?
(This blog was inspired by my latest viewing pleasure, Weeds, and its theme song Little Houses.

Day Nineteen: Back on Track

I am proud to say I caught up with Day 18 exercises this a.m. and then did my Day 19 exercises this p.m. despite my cankle, which is on the mend. There were voices within that argued with me to bail. Grr! I got mad.

This evening, I tried like last week to take the kid and her BFF to the playground down the street. They ride bikes and climb on the playground apparatus while I jump rope, etc. But when we got there, a wicked storm was coming off the foothills and the skeeters were hungry, so I attempted a pull-up (uber fail) and then cranked out my inclined pull-ups. And then we scampered back home, where the girls played indoors and I attempted to finish my exercise on the driveway. Let me tell you: with lightning and dark clouds and high wind to my south, I was reminded of the movie Caddyshack as I jumped rope at all costs (when the priest plays on, despite the inclement weather, because it's his best golf game ever? YEAH. Was hoping God wouldn't smite me. Thanks, God!). I didn't want to stop because I was in the zone, ya know? I knew if I stopped, I wouldn't finish it later. That's not how I roll.

I also cooked up some steaks on the grill, and they turned out amazing! I used a marinade of mustard, balsamic, oil, rosemary and pepper (salt is typically used but was omitted for PCP reasons). I also broke out my new rice cooker/steamer. There are two camps: people who swear by rice cookers, and those who swear by boiling water in a pot. I've tried for years to make rice the "real" way and it's always been ... crunchy or mushy but always shitty. Today's batch of brown rice was just ... right. Nom nom nom.

Day Eighteen: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

The Good: Last night after softball, I hosted a cookout with the team at mi casa. It was lots of fun. I stuck with the PCP food plan and was able to resist multiple offers of macaroni salad, boozy beverages and, yes, even s'mores (that was REALLY hard, by the way). I had a burger loaded with vegs and a cucumber tomato salad with balsamic. Yum!

The Bad: While the food was cooking, I absent-mindedly ate some tortilla chips with queso as I chatted with a friend. After a few bites, it dawned on me it was totally not PCP. I also did not do my evening snack of fruit and milk (but I did eat a few raspberries, does that count?) Oops!

The Good: Yesterday, I scored some boxes of Near East Wheat Salad for greek tabouleh, which I think will fit in nicely with the PCP food plan, and some dates to try my hand at Shelby's recipe for PCP jam. I already had strawberries, and then someone brought garden raspberries to the cookout, so I snagged those, too, for some fruit spread goodness. Gonna try that tomorrow. Woot!

The Bad: "I got hurted," as my kid would say, playing softball last night. Took a wayward throw to the lower shin covering second base (it always seems like a heroic move to use your body to stop a bad throw, but then you wake up the next day and ummmmmmmmmmm it just seems stupid. Just sayin'). It's so tender and swollen I now have a cankle. It hurts to walk. It hurts to walk up and down stairs. It hurts to lie down. It hurts to wear pants. Suffice it to say I did NOT do my PCP exercises today. I plan to do Day 18 tomorrow in the a.m. and Day 19 in the p.m. Sorry ;(

Ugly: See cankle reference above. *sigh*

Day Seventeen: The Climb

Bumped up my jumpropes to sets of 200, now that we are at 850 per day. I either rock it or I trip every 20 or so, usually when my calves, ankles or wrists start to fatigue. Cursing abounds. I also can rock inclined pull-ups but not even one iota of strength to do a regular pull-up. Dang. Once, when I was in high school gym class while us girls made lame attempts to play volleyball, the boys were showing off by climbing up this rope attached to the ceiling of the gym.

Like young apes they shimmied up, hooted and hollered at the top, and high-fived their friends once back on the gym mat. As a tomboy not wanting to be outdone, I wanted to see if I could do it. I felt pretty strong. I worked at a restaurant back near Scranton lugging tubs of dirty dishes to the kitchen and kegs to the bar. I played two sports involving lots of arm strength. The boys elbowed and murmured as I took the rope. Our crusty ol' Catholic high school gym teacher even stopped to watch. And then I did it. Not saying it was graceful or well-timed, but I got to the top, touched the ceiling, and then got rope burns on my thighs on the way down. Gym Teacher even patted me on the back with an "Atta girl!" And approximately 10+ years later doing that now seems impossible because this morning this was the memory that blazed into my head as I hung from a monkey bar and couldn't even move up for one pull-up. But I did it once upon a time without even trying to be in shape; it was just because I had youth and manual labor on my side (think wax on, wax off). So I keep thinking "Imagine what I could do if I actually tried to have that kind of strength on purpose?"

Day Sixteen: Can I Get an Amen?

I drank the Kool-Aid.

No, not actual Kool-Aid (though it seems the perfect summertime non-boozy beverage; I prefer black cherry. You?) but the proverbial Kool-Aid. The PCP Kool-Aid. This is what I say in my head when people ask me about the PCP, and I try to explain with a simple statement: "Oh, it's this exercise/diet/blog thing I'm doing to get into shape." But then they ask more questions, and before you know it, I sound like a PCP apostle evangelizing about real food and exercising using your own body weight and that you can do it anywhere! No excuses! And that it's tough but I believe, I just have to keep the faith ... blah bla bla.

Then people seem to have this simultaneous look of admiration and fear in their eyes as they listen. I could never do that, they tell me. Or Good for you! That's inspiring! And as much as I'm telling them, I'm telling myself why I'm doing this, why I'm committed (or rather should be committed coz I know it might seem kooky) and why I can't ~ no, why I choose not to ~ eat the pizza or the scone or the brownie or the usual camping food for an upcoming trip, and why I choose to get up and crank out hundreds of jumpropes and other exercises and then blog about it for all seven of you to read the mental workings on someone hellbent on a higher calling. What I do choose is me. My best self. And I'll drink to that! (well, at least come late September. Kool-Aid, anyone?)

Day Fifteen: The Daily Grind

Snack, crackle, pop. My PCP breakfast? I wish.

My bones make awful sounds. They feel awful during certain exercises. Sometimes all it takes is a deep breath in, and my back clicks and clacks like a train on the track. Like a bad clutch, my joints pop, grind, slip. I come from a long line of women who suffer from osteoporosis so bad, their hands eventually become claws of stiff knuckles and their backs curl like question marks (a condition probably caused by all those Catholic babies they bear). I know the pregnancy and birth of my daughter five years depleted and stretched my frame. I also got a cavity (my first) at this time, which I hear is typical of pregnancy. I notice my left shoulder popping with every da vinci. Leg ups are downright painful and, might I add, noisy! Must soldier on.

p.s. here is a a PCP breakfast I made over the weekend. I call it "PCP on a Shingle" because it reminded me of a food story I once wrote about S.O.S., the U.S. military's comfort food. I started doing some semblance of this about two years ago when I developed an egg intolerance and I longed for a veggie goodness kind of breakfast dish. Basically it's an eggless omelet on toast.

PCP on a Shingle

1. Saute your fave vegs (I used mushrooms and broccoli florets)

2. Remove from heat and place one slice of your fave cheese on the vegs. (I used provolone; this white cheese with the mushrooms really evokes the colors and textures of the original S.O.S. dish).

3. Meanwhile, toast your PCP-friendly bread (for the uninformed, these are your shingles).

4. Once cheese is melted, put cheesy vegs on top of the toast and enjoy!

Day Fourteen: Just Say No

Scene: after work.

I picked up the kid from preschool; it was someone's birthday and they brought cupcakes. The kid, who doesn't like chocolate, offered me the lady bug motif chocolate cupcake. I pawned it off on someone else.

I went to Costco tonight to score mass quantities of protein. I avoided the people offering samples, which included hot dogs, chocolate ice cream bar, taquitos and cookies.

I had a blueberry Nutrigrain bar in the car, a commuter snack from my former life. I put it on my purse instead of my mouth, even though my stomach growled the entire ride home.

I came home, jumped 800 and prepared myself a garlicky dish of whole wheat angel hair, Bird's Eye Snap Pea Stir Fry medley (adding extra mushrooms) and lemon pepper salmon.

Day Thirteen: Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

This last week, my sleep and catnaps were peppered with dreams about my sweet tooth. One day it was how I just wanted to have just three, count 'em THREE, chocolate chips. Another was about a strawberry Starburst candy (and how you can't just have that, you have to have the lemon and cherry flavors, too). And the weirdest dream involved my neighbor who brought over a berry crumb pie for a party "for the kids, since I know you don't like fruit and you're on the PCP so I wanted to bring something that wouldn't tempt you." YEAH. As soon as she left, my dream self ate half the pie with a giant spoon and then tried to cover up this fact by smooshing the remaining half to fill up the rest of the pan. I woke up feeling very guilty and very afraid that this was a premonition.

**************************************************************************

I have to say all this eating has eliminated my usual daytime migraine/headache (and subsequent pain pill habit), so that's awesome. I don't miss the sugar in my coffee, another bonus. My stomach cannot stomach all this food (I do ok at breakfast and lunch but man dinner is a beast to digest) so am glad that the calorie intake will be changing soon. Also, this week I am very sore, could be my weekend bonus activities (kickboxing and softball) since my most sore muscles are the ones on my back by my shoulder blades. I definitely feel it when I lie down to sleep or stretch at my desk during work. Ow. But a happy ow. I didn't know I had muscles there! Am also happy to report I've lost two pounds and that my neighbor (not the one with the dream pie, the one who made me do a set of push-ups on her patio while I was wearing flip-flops) continues to be impressed and said so today, so put that on the list of pros for the PCP: bragging rights. Boo yah.

Day Twelve: In Good Times and In Bad

A few years ago I wrote a snarky MySpace blog entry about how I suffer from what I like to call "Janet Jackson Syndrome." See, sometimes I look like this:

And then sometimes I look like this:

The thing is at the various times when I was at my thinnest adulthood size, it was often at the worst times in my life. Broken body. Broken heart. Empty bank account. But I have a lean body, willowy arms, no gut, thin face. And being a relatively private person, people who wouldn't know I was experiencing my darkest days would cheerily comment to me "OH my goodness you look AMAZING," coz well I did. But I couldn't eat, never exercised and often lacked the energy to even cross the street. I didn't feel how I looked, which was a pity. Yet when I'm at my heavier adult size, with a round belly, a butt that won't stop, cherub cheeks, it's historically been during my happier times. Seems unfair, huh? So I'm hoping to build some good habits through my PCP experience ~ regular exercise without excuses, good food, lots of rest ~ so that I can look like the former and not the latter all year round.

Day Eleven: Try, Try Again

Surprising discoveries this weekend so far.

First, I am buying and eating fresh fruit. I'm not a fan of most fruit. I don't even like fruit-flavored things (except candy like Skittles and Starbursts. But not Jelly Belly; that's asking too much. Oh, and sno-cones at fairs and lemonade. Yep, I think that's about it.) So while I'm not loving this part of the PCP, I'm sticking with it because it's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The PCP, with its three-fruits-daily requirement for me, has kind of forced my hand at expanding my horizons and making new choices. Before, I would have ambitiously bought a bag of apples and by Day 4 of said apples, I would have called mercy and not tried apples again for two years. But maybe the key is variety. For example, on Friday for my a.m. snack I ate a banana and for my p.m. snack I ate a bosc pear during a work meeting. I ruled!

Second discovery: weekends are harder for the PCP diet than anticipated. Why? Lack of structure on the weekend can let things get all willy nilly right out the window. As I mentioned in Day Ten, dinner was going to have to wait until after my softball game. Well, after the game (we lost 5-2, but heck I played second base the entire game AND I accounted for one of those runs, so boo to the yah!) my team badgered me into joining them at the usual post-game bar. Sometimes we eat; most of the time they drink. I hadn't seen everyone in weeks so I felt obligated to be social and besides this was my night out (yes my life is very exciting, try not to be jealous). I felt OK with my iced water and cup of coffee to tide me over, but as soon as my friend seated across from me got her order of food, I knew I had to leave. Deliciousness was taunting me in the face. So I went home, it was 10p.m. and, too tired to cook or stomach the usual PCP dinner, I cobbled together my PCP carbs (simple bowl of generic GrapeNuts) with milk portions (so no vegs, protein or fruit). It was awesome, but not awesome for the PCP. Dang. Tomorrow was a new day to get it right. Right?

Nope. I ran into this problem AGAIN this morning (again, thanks to lack of planning on my part) when I woke up ready to hit the gym for my usual Saturday a.m. cardio kickboxing class, which I've done for three years now. I LOVE IT. But unless I wanted to wake up at 6 a.m. to eat that mammoth breakfast before the 9a.m. class (which you have to get there by 830a to get a pass that's how popular it is, which means leaving the house at 8a.m., so sleeping in is ...730a.m.? which I totally did!), eating would have to wait. But once I got home and showered, I remembered I was going to visit fellow PCPer Gwen today (who I might add is thisclose to her Day 90! Awesome!). So I grabbed some cheese and hit the road. Once I got home, I ate my breakfast meal ... at 2 p.m. Then the day got away from me AGAIN. My generous and lovely neighbors, curious about the PCP, ended up feeding me some of their dinner: lamb chops, artichokes and couscous because it was 7:30p.m. and I was ravenous with no meal in the works at my own house and they wanted to hear more about this PCP and incredulously wanted to see me do real push-ups (which I did a set of 12 on their patio ~ in flip flops!). During the work week, there is structure and predictability. Weekends ... not so much. So I need to change that. Which leads me to my ...

Third discovery: So knowing I had undereaten this weekend (with two additional activities) due to lack of planning and lack of structure, I went grocery shopping tonight and bought new things I've never bought for myself nor eaten before. The kid and I had a blast picking up vegs and fruit which I will prepare for the week's PCP. Fresh artichokes? Sure! I've never cooked one or eaten one that wasn't already in a pasta or cheesy dip, but heck I can Google how to cook it at home! Fresh bing cherries? Um OK I need another new fruit in the mix so I don't grow tired of the amicable bosc pear. Limes? Lemons? Sure! I need something to flavor that fish, couscous and who know what else. This experience reminded me of something the kid's preschool does, it's called a No Thank-You Bite. Whatever snack or lunch is served, you must try a NTYB before you can get seconds of the stuff you do like. Make sense to me! You've got to keep trying foods you're "sure" you don't like because taste buds change and you've got to keep trying new foods because they might just be your new favorite food.

Day Ten: Yea, though I slog through the valley of the shadow of fatigue, I will fear not

In an hour I will be playing second base for a city rec softball league, which I've played every summer for the last four years. But I'm tired. I need food but I can't run the bases on a full stomach. I did that once last year and I almost puked. But if I eat I won't run well this year and might puke. I'm in a Catch-22, and all I really want to do is take a nap. Dinner will have to wait; cheese and fruit will have to carry me home (run?).

Before I forget, here are some highlights from this week on the PCP:

- My friend, Cara the Marathoner, suggested instead of my usual cream n' sugar for my coffee to try vanilla soy milk. I'm not prepared to give up my coffee (which I've done three times in my life --- four times if you count pregnancy) nor am I willing to drink it black. I could go without the sugar though since I had gotten obnoxious with the amount I put in my java. Vanilla soy milk is just sweet enough I don't miss the sugar, she said. I was skeptical, but then I tried it. It's true. Mmmm. (thank you!)

- Yesterday I had to work out in the opened garage again. It might have been the heat or increased exercises but at one point the sweat was flying off me. I glistened. Bye-Bye fat!

- The kid spied me jumping rope yesterday and said "WOW, Mom. You're really good at that!" And that kept me going.

Day Nine: The Joy of Cooking

I am getting inspired. But I could use some help. I don't know how long this PCP food plan is in place for me (a week before a different one comes along? or here for the remaining 80+ days?) but I know I can get bored easily with food or I want to eat the same food for three weeks straight and then never eat it again. I don't want either to happen.

Just today as I was thinking about how to make my PCP food more desirable and more cohesive as a meal, Patrick emailed us about this very topic ~ it's all in the timing. Take the time to chop and steam. And while you're at it: Think colors. Shapes. Textures. Flavors. So I tried. I had fun. Not bad to look at, eh? Tasted like a meal. Like comfort food. For dinner I broiled some deli chicken meat, cheese, tomato slices on wheat bread, and then a simple pasta-cherry tomato mix. Delish. (No elephants were harmed in the making of this meal.)

Day Eight: Why Was Nine Afraid of Seven?

(Coz 7 8 9!)

DUUUUDES, I'm stuffed. And I'm not even done with my first true PCP dinner and bedtime snack. I feel like a kid who's doing their homework at the last minute racing to finish before the classroom bell rings. I definitely need to finagle a better system to prepping the meals ahead of time. Dinner's not so bad, but here I was trying to parent a kid who has itchy bug bites and is in need of anti-itch cream, who wants a glass of milk, who wants to go for a bike ride, in addition to trying to get laundry done post road trip because I have no clothes for work and exercise clothes stink to high heaven, and (!!!) I was cooking and exercising for the PCP. Yo, I'm tired.

So yea. Can you say Week One: Famine, Week Two: Feast? As did my fellow PCPers, I ate a ton of food today. For me, it was a struggle as I switched to eating most of my food during daylight hours instead of the previous habit of mindless nighttime eating. Also, I'm not a fan of fruit and here I am eating it three times a day. My coworkers saw me gag down an afternoon snack of grapes (a couple is fine, but how many grams?!?!?), more grapes than I ate in 2008 entirely. But I did it, so I consider this success. I just felt so full, I had to pace myself and found I was eating almost every two hours. I happily went to stores after work to pick up some last minute PCP equipment (pull up bar, resistance bands, steamer) and by the time I got home I was starving. Huh. If you had asked me at 2p.m. MST today if I wanted to eat, I would have said No thank you I'm full for the next week, please come again. And then once I got home commenced the chaotic scene in the house I described above. But the kid is almost in bed and I'm almost done with dinner (whole wheat angel hair, steak cut into strips, a salad, followed by snack of apple and milk). I can only hope I wake up hungry tomorrow and not still stuffed like a pinata with PCP foods.

In wonderful news, my garden is starting to produce, well, produce: broccoli, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, onion, etc. Can't wait to put those to use in the PCP. Bon apetit!

Day Seven: I'm Just a Girl

Let's talk about my person of inspiration, my "hero" for the PCP. I chose musician, fashion designer and celebrity mom Gwen Stefani for a few reasons.

She's admitted to having inner chubby kid complex, and how she doesn't just roll out of bed looking like a rock star; she literally works her ass off every day. She does real push-ups during her concerts. She's popped out two pups and as a working mom (sure she has nannies oh and probably a bazillion dollars. But that doesn't mean good parenting gets any easier) she still manages to put on lipstick and fun clothes. She appears to be both confident and vulnerable. And really, who hasn't felt that way?

Day Six: PCP or Bust

Another thing I am realizing with the PCP is you've got to plan ahead, be it the exercise, the food, the blogging or heck the sleep/rest to get all this done.

Yesterday as I was trying to head back to Colorado, I visited a Walmart store in central Nebraska (on a Sunday no less; can you say hell on earth?) to pick up some incidentals that would improve the five hour drive ahead of the kid and I. I picked up some baby carrots, but when I ate them later they tasted like they were washed with soap. I switched to a bag of pretzels. To circumvent the kid's request for Crunchy Cheetos, I got her some yogurt. Color us both happy.

But after the road trip, which got us back home after 11 p.m. MST, it left the fridge looking empty, vegs from last week limp and wrinkly, and my body was stiff from driving and I was so, so tired. I ended up skipping this morning's boot camp to get at least 6 hours of sleep. Did PCP exercises after work (have to say I do really prefer the a.m. workouts; isn't that weird for a night person to admit?) and I'm anxious to see what comes next. Tonight, my lovely neighbor made her killer brownies, and per the usual, offered me one. I took half one and will soon enjoy that on the eve before the start of the official PCP diet. Bring it.

Day Five: Red Glare

Last night I visited with friends at a home BBQ for the Fourth of July. It was a hoot. It was also a challenge.

The kiddo and I were there for about five hours, and I was offered food and boozy drinks often. Sure, I ate my dinner portion (one kabob of grilled chicken, mushroom and zucchini; a five Doritos -- instead of five handfuls -- and one salt-less, butter-less ear of corn, and a glass of ice water) and it was a wonderful meal with loved ones and I felt full, both in tummy and heart.

But when faced with the repeated question of well-intentioned hosts who asked Are you sure you don't need a drink? Are you sure you aren't hungry? I definitely felt the little angel and little devil on my shoulders debating that very issue. Even though my mouth said No, I'm fine thank you for asking, my mind, and later my stomach, struggled with issue. But rules are rules, and I really didn't want to bend the rules less than a week into the PCP. If I thought it was hard now ...

But near the end of the night my very good friend commented on how she was proud of me. And that's the best kind of positive reinforcement if I ever saw it and was grateful that anyone noticed I was truly, really trying.

The exercise routine (jumping rope followed by a series of some combination of sit-ups, lunges, push-ups and squats) currently continue to be the easiest part of the PCP. The mental struggle with food, for me, is the worst. I am realizing that I eat out of habit rather than actual hunger, I eat most of my calories in the evening rather than throughout the day, and that my decreased calorie intake is making me grumpy and very sensitive to things I would not normally get bent out of shape for, like my child asking for her dinner once we got home from school/work (and an insane lady who momentarily stepped into my body and stole my brain instantly thought at this request GAH you selfish child! Um yeah. That was weird.) or how my right contact lens is a little dry and therefore makes me want to lay down and sob on the floor of this coffeehouse right at this very moment and how my brain wants to rationalize that the second half of my morning bagel would make it all go away.

But, I take a deep breath, and I remember this.

Day Four: Exercising My Freedoms

The hardest thing about Day Four of the PCP was trying to find a place with free wifi to write this blog entry. But here I am sitting on the porch of The Mill, Lincoln's other awesome downtown coffee shop. I skirted in JUST as the outdoor barista started to close up shop for the July 4 holiday. But now I get to sit here guilt-free with my small (instead of usual large) coffee. Ahhh.

Seated to my left is a group of young immigrants, possibly from Ukraine or Russia or other eastern European place, talking enthusiastically with some words sounding familiar like salami, sandwich, Chicago and UPS. Or maybe that is my subconscious talking, as I would happily order a salami sammie from Chicago via UPS at this very moment because I am already hungry despite a late breakfast with friends. We ate at one of my new favorite places in Lincoln, bread&cup, which aims to serve local and in season food. It's terrific. I tend to get the 3 Grain Hot Cereal; it's already a small portion, so I added only half of the cream I typically would have, added half the walnuts and skipped the apple butter. And instead of helping my friends eat the giant cinnamon roll, I only had a small bite (you have no idea how much I love love love cinnamon rolls, and with caramel syrup!) Later today I will visit another friend for a July 4 BBQ; last night I was able to decline multiple drink opportunities but I am unsure if today I will be as lucky. I will prevail though!

The exercises continue to be doable, but my left calf is now on fire, which makes jumping rope without tripping nearly impossible; I do find that doing it faster, rather than slower, avoids messing up. Go figure. My calf is just incredible tight and is sensitive to the touch (and even laying down to sleep on it feels awful). I doubt PCP itself is to blame, but just the muscle itself being overworked from the double duty of PCP and boot camp. Oh well. These are the easy days, sweetheart, so suck it up. Happy Fourth of July, America!

Day Three: A Moveable Feast

Pictured to the right is what I packed for my 7-hour drive through Nebraska.

Traded in my orange Crunchy Cheetos for orange crunchy baby carrots (which really helped me through the last three hours of the drive). The sandwich, half left over from lunch would be my half dinner on the road. Two bottles of ice water, two audio books (which were mediocre) and, can't lie, the bananas weren't for me. I hate bananas. Those were for the kid while she stays at The Grandparents, who are lovely and generous people. But the kid DID get a bag of Crunchy Cheetos (see? even she knows the drill when we make a pit stop. Oh wait. Is that bad?), and she shared three with me. Three is better than half a bag, right?

When I pulled into Lincoln, I was STARVING. My stomach had been growling for about two hours. I called a friend, Cara The Marathoner, and asked her what she would get at Amigos. Amigos is a staple of Nebraska dining, and many of my pals who no longer live here discuss cravings for this fast food staple. Now in the four years I lived in Lincoln for college, I ate at Amigos fewer than five times, and I think most of those times it was 1. not my idea 2. massive amounts of booze was preceded its consumption. But suddenly I envisioned myself getting a drive-thru burrito or taco and inhaling it before I left the parking lot. By the time I left the Interstate, I snapped out of it, hit the sandwich shop across the street from Amigos (that's right, I stared that SOB in the face and walked away from temptation) for a simple provolone and bread sammie with mustard, and ate half. I even waited until I got into the downtown apartment I am staying at to eat, and it was good.

I know food will be my personal challenge during the PCP. (Seriously, Mel. It's Day Three. Get a grip!) And then to throw travel on top of that? I already worry how an upcoming trip to Northeast PA (NEPA, as us locals call home) will be: the land of pizza, Yuengling beer, pierogies, funnel cakes, meatballs as big as your head and other delictables from Polish and Italian cuisine. I'm doomed. Must get game plan now.

But I am happy to report that while I am in my Lincoln favorite coffee shop, I was able to resist the second half of my cheddar bagel with veggie cream cheese. But barely. Onto tomorrow!

Day Two: Sick and Tired

It's just after 7a.m. MST here in Colorado, and I've done my PCP exercises for the day; they were very doable and tolerable, especially outside in the cool air and new sun. But I'm definitely feeling the fatigue from two workouts yesterday (PCP and a boot camp I almost done attending) and a head & chest cold that's hopefully on its way out. Is there any advice on how to handle sickness with working out? I took an easy pace and completed every exercise in full. But man, I miss breathing through my nose. My head feels full of cotton, my throat full of broken glass.

I'm heading out of town this afternoon for the Fourth of July weekend. Dropping the kid off at her grandparents in Kearney and I go on to Lincoln, both cities in Nebraska where I went to college and lived for four years. (How does a girl from the Northeast end up in the Midwest? My mom's from Omaha and Nebraska is where those Irish ancestors of mine settled. I keep going back, though, for the friends and my godmother, one of the most important people in my life and a true role model. The free babysitting from the paternal grandparents is just a bonus).

Wondering how being on the road will be with the PCP (another reason for the early exercise today). It's about a five hour trek to Kearney, then another two hours to Lincoln. What are your favorite travel foods? The kid and I are fond of Crunchy Cheetos, but must find a better alternative for snack food on the road today. My jump rope and PCP exercise sheets are already in my purse, so even if I forget to pack a suitcase, I will at least be able to stick with the program. Bon voyage!

Day One, Vol. II: They're All Gonna Root For You

Just finished my first PCP workout in my new "gym" aka the backyard patio.

jumping rope
push-ups
sit-ups
squats

Nice but think I will definitely have to switch to a.m. workouts (the neighborhood is alive, noisy and busy in the afternoons, as it should be; neighbors and my kid wanted to know what was up with me and the jump rope, and I felt like my social hour in the suburbs was missed). I would have done PCP this a.m., but I'm still in the throes of my boot camp, session two, for the summer. I have two weeks left. Which means for the MWFs of the first two weeks of PCP, I will do boot camp in the a.m., and PCP workouts in the p.m. I kept telling myself It's only six days (five now), but truth be told today my body was already tired when I got home from work. Lucky for me, the PCP exercises align nicely with what we do in boot camp. On my non-boot camp days, I'm definitely going to start my day with PCP to ensure nothing at the end of the day gets in my way. Which is saying a lot, considering I'm a night owl.

The first week of PCP "diet" (oh how I loathe that word! I've never been a diet kind of person, and I don't believe PCP is anything even close to a diet. We need something better to call it. How about food solution? cuisine opportunity? fit fuel?): Just eat half. Whatever we normally would dish out for ourselves, eat half. Sounds easy. And it is easy to do ... until you're hungry an hour later. But I really stuck with it, and I realize today might be the easy day of it all.
Small bowl of cheerios instead of large. One morning coffee instead of two; one tsp of sugar instead of two. Five almonds instead of 10. Even half a nutrigrain bar when I was famished on the commute home (this PCP could really make the drive home dangerous for others if I continue to drive hungry). I noticed I really paid attention to my food so I wouldn't snarf it all down and that I could really enjoy the food. And that even with "half" portions, I felt satiated (but not stuffed) which snowballed into really looking forward to and appreciating the next time I got to eat.

Today I had a lot of people ask about PCP, and I was happy to share. Once I got over my embarassment and worry about revealing the blog, it was really awesome to see people outside the PCP are cheering us on, too. Viva la revolucion!