When It Rains, It Pours

I'm holding on, people, by my fingertips. When I'm not doing have-tos, I'm laying down to heal my brain and heart. Bad news is coming in. Some of it directly affects me. The world, my world maybe, feels like a difficult and scary place at the moment. There is light at the end of the tunnel; I just hope it's not a train.

I know there is good. Fred and Sidney continue to pop a little more. The scale reads a lower number for multiple days (so it must be true, right?). I may need a belt with my skinny jeans; I really hate belts though. And then there's the kid who doesn't ask about Chinese food or Oreos as often. I continue to have a hankering for celery. I struggle with trying to eat enough, sleep enough, move enough, be enough to those in my life. The other day I was questioning if the PCP is just selfish and vain in the pursuit of eye-candy bodies or something that makes us better so we can better serve those important to us, by sticking around longer with better health AND eye-candy bodies.

I miss my old jumprope.

Crisis

Ugh my free time the last few days have been occupied by small fires in my personal life, so I do as much of the exercises (admittedly not all, usually anything involving a bar) as I can in the late night before exhaustion sends me to bed. One of these crisis is with the ex (seriously, don't ever get divorced, it totally, totally, totally, totally sucks), which is a major life changer and will be ongoing, and one was minor and with the child (who probably had H1N1 this week since experts say it's too early for seasonal flu; she's doing better now and went back to school today).

And of course you all know my jumprope broke and I hope to right after I post this to run to a store and hunt one down. The ones at Target were NOT like my beloved jumprope so I'm on a mission, a mission from GAWD, to find a worthy replacement. Also, I'm probably not eating enough historically during these highly stressful times I tend to lose my appetite AND not sleep well) but when I eat it's PCP things (having a thing for green beans, as well as celery lately). So there's that.

Day 101 (Day 66 Revisited): Palate Ponderings

I still hate yogurt. Like really, really hate it. Really. Really really really.
I like pears. Bosc >Bartlett
I might become a vegetarian after this. Or a pescatarian.
I might keep protein shakes in my life after this.
I still hate bananas.
I like apples. Not all of them though.
I like vegetables more than fruit still.
I crave vegetables.
I crave GrapeNuts.
I still crave brownies. Just smaller brownies.
I wonder why they are called GrapeNuts.
I like steak better than chicken.
I like pork better than chicken.
I don't know when I stopped liking chicken.

Day 99 (Day 64 Revisited): Stone Soup

Fall is here in Colorado, and it's very pretty out. Ironic, isn't it, that I link to one of my fave local bloggers, whose web site is userealbutter.com. (Follow @userealbutter on Twitter! She did a presentation last month I attended on "Food Porn." It was HOT.)

Anyhoo, I love this time of year. Traditionally, I stocked up on the following:
- maple & brown sugar flavor oatmeal
- one box of Cream of Wheat
- cinnamon
- brown sugar
- other baking staples, such as white sugar, white flour, baking soda, baking powder, that spray-on butter+flour for pans, wax paper, foil
- one canister of hot cocoa
- staples to make soups and chili

The cooler weather, dare I even say wintry considering this weekend Boulder is expecting snow to fall??!?!?, just puts me in the mood to bake something wonderful in the oven and have a pot of something delicious on the stove. It warms the house, it warms my soul.


Ever read the children's book, "Stone Soup"? One of my childhood favorites.

Anyhoo, with the onset of autumn, I feel kind of lost without this ritual at the moment and, considering I was hoping to be done with the PCP by now, I'm feeling a bit wistful, too. I mean, the PCP has given me great insight into my eating habits, which were indeed naughty, the true culprit of my softening middle and bubble butt, but I like soup. I wonder if I can make a PCP-friendly soup. Or a version of soup (hot food in a bowl). Tomatoes, mushrooms, a protein? No salt, of course. Perhaps a stone?

Day 98 (Day 63 Revisited): Me Dress Pretty One Day

New pic! Had to show off my new shirt. I bought two new ones to PCP in. Boo yah! They're purty. They're mediums. Did I mention they're purty?

Mom and Kid Sister left this morning. The mood lifted in my house. I had a craving for green beans. I also awoke at 6:30a.m. to jump rope in my closed, empty garage, which was a cool 58 degrees inside (warmer than outside!). Fall in Colorado is here, which means anything from sunny glorious days to weather like this week, which is rainy, overcast and ... a forecast of snow this weekend? I wonder if those purty tops come in long sleeve.

Day 96 (Day 61 Revisited):

I've got to make this quick, as I've got two giant baskets of fresh laundry to fold, a quiet house and quickly evaporating energy.

Busy hosting Mom + Kid Sister. But it's been easy to jump ropes in the a.m. before we head out for the day and do strength in the p.m. once we got back. I was wheezy during the entire day today despite the inhaler. Oh well. That's fall for ya. I'm also craving soup. Speaking of cravings ... I've been very disciplined about sweets and such. And then ... my mom baked brownies last night.

Oh. My. God. TORTURE! And from my own mother!

I should have known. Now I've been able to resist baked goods and ice cream, my two sweet weaknesses, before no problem. But this time, I smelled the brownies baking. I'm a sucker for a warm, gooey brownie. And then I watched Mom + Kid Sister eat them. Kid Sister even got to take the two center brownies, my favorites coz they don't have any crusty sides. And then smell, the SMELL!, was all in my house.

I took a bath.

When I was done, everyone had gone to bed. I went downstairs and looked at the pan. I left it uncovered overnight in an attempt to ruin their gooey goodness. The pan is half gone today. At least by not my hands.

Day Fifty-Seven: The Ties That Bind

I talk to my mom every weekend. We are not terribly alike, but I look forward to these phone calls. I have a lot of relatives, but not a lot of family, ifyougetwhatimsayin'. Mom is always there for me in the proverbial sense. I can make her laugh, and she can make me feel like I can do anything.

She arrives here in late September for a visit, right during my Day 90 completion of the PCP (a little more than a month away ~ woot!). She lives in the South these days, so distance and money keep visits far and few between. Like three years in between. As you can imagine, we are excited for her visit to Colorado for one week. I was asking her on the phone what groceries I need to buy to keep her happy at my homestead and she said something to the effect of "nothing weird ... none of that healthy stuff."

At least that's what I heard. See I was raised on Tuna Helper, Campbell's Tomato soup (milk recipe), Tang and the occasional block of orange government cheese. Mom was never an adventurous eater, either; and to top that off, she was a yo-yo dieter. And she bakes. A lot. She's very good at it. Ruh-roh ...

I'd like to end the PCP on a good note, but Mom is already asking for burger-and-shake places. Hmmm. I love Mom, but this is an inheritance I wish to avoid.

Day Forty-Three: A Little Help from My Friends

Thanks to all who had feedback on my utter dismay at coffee being reduced in my diet. *sigh* I'll get over it; I always do. And I don't hate you, Patrick; I'm sorry. That was the java addiction talking. It's being threatened. I know. Coffee is my blankie. My comfort item. My stuffie, as the kiddo would say. I like having one in hand most of the day, even when I don't drink most of the hot bevvie. I also like the ritual of going to get one.

And this next seven days is full of moments where I'd like to have my comfort item at the ready. The kid ends preschool; bye-bye familar and safe cocoon! The kid starts kindergarten; hello people, I will gauge eyes out if my child is harmed, forgotten or left behind in anyway! Nice to meet you! The kid gets yet another inner ear procedure at the doctors, though unsure at this time who will do more squirming and crying, her or me; why Doctor, let's hope this time we FINALLY get to the source of the problem as, no offense, I hope to never see you again. Ok thanks bye now. And this week is a particularly *sensitive* week to tell this female she has to cut back on her coffee consumption. Just sayin' ...

Nah it's cool. I'll get through it. I still get to have coffee just not as much as I'd like and much like a spoiled child I will reign in my emotions and do what is indeed best for me. *eyeroll* I'm kidding. And Patrick, damn you, calling my bluff out with the whole "peak condition or coffee? it's your choice" ~ who do I look like, King Solomon? But I have to say this last week I've noticed has this awesome sense of community and PCP love and support kicking into high gear. Thank you all so much! I read your blogs; I'm amazed that anyone, especially strangers, read mine. I think about you guys when I have my tough moments down in the valley; your kind words, advice and your own tough moments in the valley of PCP help me feel less alone. xoxoxo melanie

Day Forty-Two: I'll Cry if I Want To

The jump ropes were smooooooth today, if I may say so myself. Cranked 1,500 out lickety split with nary a trip amongst my sets and I managed to impress a carload of booming-music, disaffected teens who were cruising up and down my street in their sweet, sweet ride. Thanks, morons.

Also received the next week's exercises + diet plan. FINALLY: a week more of 1,500 j-ropes and then we go to the timed portions of j-ropes. Something new! I wonder if I can hang. I'll probably hate it. But who cares! I want to see if I can do it. Uncool: Patrick docked coffee from my diet. Well, he said we could have one cup a day. Um, hello? You cannot be serious. Now, folks, let's remember this blog post as where I throw a hissy fit.


IDONTWANNA!NO!YOUCAN'TMAKEME!IHATEYOU!WHYOHWHYOHWHYOHWHY!WHYDOYOUHATEME!WHYAREYOUDOINGTHISTOME!ARRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH NONONONONONONONOIDONTWANNA!YOURETHEDEVIL!

OK. I think I'm OK now. No, nope, that's just not true.

I've quit coffee before. Like four times or something. And it was sucky every time. Like really sucky. And pre-PCP I was having >one cup in the a.m. and MAYBE >one cup in the afternoon. I was content with this. But now I'm back to a 3-cup a day habit (you SAID coffee was permittable! you SAID!) and now I have to cut back and yes I want to cry. Weep, even. Couldn't I just do, like, extra sets of tricep dips? or side crunches? Please? Pretty please?

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!