Day Fifty-Eight: Burn, Baby, Burn

So yeah ... my muscles hurt. But I like it. So do Fred and Sidney.

Day Fifty-Two: Role Model? or Rolls Model?

After my bath last night, I was getting dressed and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was in a new pair of skivvies and (sadly smaller) bra and I thought "Hey .... wait a second. I look ... trim!" Well, more trim. But there it was: muscle lines in my upper body, sleek calves, tightening thighs and ... what's this? Possible lines forming on the sides of my torso?!?!? Sure I still have a soft, gooey center, but ... it's smaller; the sides, narrower. NO WAY. See, I've always been a fairly modest person and typically Just Say No to Nudity kind of person (name that movie! anyone? anyone? Bueller? no, not Bueller! But guess! Great, great movie) especially since losing my eighth-grader body shape since the kid's arrival on the scene nearly six years ago.

Sure back then I traipsed along southwest Florida's beaches as a newly-minted 23-year-old vessel of human life in a two-piece, but I was comparative eye candy against octogenarians with breast implants. I was gonna win that swimsuit contest, hands down. But after the Great Birth, I felt deflated and my ego/body/self image never quite recovered. Which I am now reminded of every time I do planks (hello lower torso! I can see you waving to me as I stare down my own shirt! I'm waving, too! See?!?! See? My middle finger? Yep, that's for you, buddy!) *sigh* ... I also get this nifty little stabbing pain in my lower left abdomen that never goes away no matter how many ab exercises I do. I feel it every time with crunches, kung fu sit-ups, leg ups, side crunches. And I often feel sick to my stomach after these sets quivering on the floor. Will I ever feel or look good again?


This body image issue was doubly on my mind as I read this article today about Glamour featuring a photo of a "real woman" who is a plus-size model (ha, yea I know, right?) in this month's magazine. She's the person in the photo above. I was torn: I recognized some of myself in her, with her curves and lumps and dimply flesh yet there is joy and laughter and a messy ponytail. And then a small part of me was suspicious: is this just a ploy to get Fat America 'ok' with their curvy, lumpy, dimply selves? How does PCP fit into this movement of loving who you are physically, even with an unPCP body? Is this movement just breeding physical complacency and even laziness and gluttony? Is being unPCP acceptable if you make it popular? Argh too many questions ... brain freeze.

Day Thirty-Eight: When Other People Suck

Dear You,

I heard You snicker in my direction as someone asked about the PCP and wanted to see the muscle lines appearing on my bicep. You snickered as you walked by so perhaps you didn't think I would notice, but I noticed. And then I called You out on it. Did you just snicker at me? Why would you snicker at me? I know I'm not as tough or as hardcore as You. But You never judged me before for my size, whether I was willowy or post-pregnancy lumpy. And You see me almost everyday out with the jump rope or writhing down on the floor of a dirty garage attempting ab exercises that You know hurt me physically and egotistically. And I thought You understood because you most of the time help me find the time to fit the PCP into my life and You humor my questions about fitness. And You yourself have something that resembles peak condition; isn't that something I should have, too? Your snicker now makes me think otherwise ...

Your snicker sucked. Your snicker stuck. Not forever, but for now. But You will still find me out with my jump rope and out on the floor of the garage and showing people my blooming muscles lines. So thanks, I needed another motivator.


Sincerely, Me

Day Thirty-Five: Thank You, Sir, May I Have Another?

As I write this, I'm munching on a plate of beautiful beets and tasty zucchini. Happily. When did this happen? And when did "only" 1,400 jump ropes become a welcomed relief? This last week I've been hardcore cravings for Mexican food and for ice cream. Like very specific cravings, the kind I've only had back in the preggers days. And today, after a sudden, urgent visit to the pediatrician for yet again the kid's chronic ear bleeding and subsequent referral to a specialist, some familiar thoughts visited me ... like how this stress and anxiety would be momentarily relieved only by, say, a cake donut or some cheesy nachos at home. I came home, tried to eat lunch but had no appetite. I had my afternoon snack instead. I took a nap. I woke up and did my jump ropes. Again, my shins are on fire. And my appetite returned. And I have my beautiful beets and tasty zukes. And tomorrow will be more of the same. Yes, please.

Day Thirty-Four: Lay Your Hands On Me

Nothing new to report, except this kink in my upper right body continues to torture me. Might go get a massage to see if I can get some relief that way. Other than that, I'm just sticking to the food and exercise plans and trying not to let self-doubt creep in. Tonight I cooked some garden zucchini with basil, olive oil, garlic and oregano, and made another batch of Shelby's jam recipe (I'm forever eternally grateful!), and my exercises, while not easy, went quickly. Keeping the faith ...

Day Thirty-Two: Catch Up and Muster

I'm sore today. And Patrick sent us an email today about stretching. Serendipity?

I feels as though as there are not enough massage therapists or hot baths to ease my tension in my body tonight. It's my right shoulder blade area and migrates north up my neck into my skull and straight out the front my forehead. Tension so tight it caused a migraine today. Felt sensitive to movement and light. Sick. Oh well. But I got a lot done: my usual Saturday cardio KBing and belated Day 31 PCP exercise, which went surprisingly smooth for how awfully tired I was at the time. I think my migraine could be blamed on the lackluster nutrition of the last few days (totally my fault that I under-ate; the PCP plan is there for a reason!), lack of good sleep and exercising midday in the hot sun. Duh. Never doing that again! Never realized how much learning I would be doing on the PCP...

Tomorrow is Day 32 workout in the a.m. and Day 33 workout in the p.m. Few things lately are as satisfying as crossing off my exercises for the day. Am happy to report I scored beets and cucumbers from the local farmer's market. Got everything else at the grocer's. Cupboards full again. Ahh. Much better.

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 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!