HCG Week 2 – Yes To the Future

Here we go. I am down 6 lbs this week (165.4) and am really excited to see what happens next. I just need to stay the course and keep strong.

Keep strong.

That’s not easy. Over the weekend I was tempted a LOT. Breaking the habit of eating at drive-thrus after rehearsal only took a few days. You just put the blinders on and drive home. Breaking the habit of taquitos and an iced tea before shows was easy. You just stop going to 7-eleven. I knew those habits were coming. It’s the surprise attacks from the outside world I’m still learning to be more mentally prepared for.

Saturday there was a cast BBQ and when I got to the theater, after a 6 hour tech for my next show, I saw nothing but treats. Literally everything I ate to gain these 20lbs was sitting there; ice cream, brownies, homemade cookies, pizza and chocolate. It was really hard to say no. Really hard. It would have been so easy to say, “Oh I’ll have a tiny bite.” Or just a small spoonful of ice cream. Or a piece of the chocolate bar. I knew it wasn’t going to really hurt me.

Or would it?

I have cheated on every diet I’ve been on. Even when I was a vegan I would cheat and have bakery items I knew had eggs and butter in them. I don’t want to be a cheater any more. I want to be confident that I am strong enough to say “no”. Especially to something as silly and inconsequencial as ice cream. Baby steps to saying no in other parts of my life.

Saturday night was the Seussical girls sleep-over, complete with junk food galore. This time it was all the salty foods I love; chips with french onion dip, carmel sauce, popcorn. I remained strong, eating apple slices and seaweed. I ate more calories than I was supposed to, but they were all approved and I felt that was a win for me. I remained stronger than the food. Even in the morning when it was free food (something I hate saying “no” to) and the hotel had panckae wrapped sausages. I love that! But I said “no”. Because I know that every time I say “no” to the now I am truly saying “yes” to the future.

Sunday morning at tech I was met with donuts, one of my biggest downfalls, and I was tempted once again. But I remained strong. It was REALLY hard!! I was actually surprised at how difficult it was to not eat them. It’s just food!

Then sushi Sunday night with the cast. A revolving sushi bar with every kind of sushi one could want. It was a little piece of heaven! I’m telling you, the universe put up a good fight these past two days. It threw all my favorites at me, yet I remained strong. And I went to sleep on Sunday quite proud of myself.

I didn’t cheat. I didn’t eat the foods I’m not supposed to. I stayed the course and remained strong. This is huge! I succeeded in being true to my goal and trusting that the outcome is worth putting off satisfaction. That is a reallybig deal.

The kicker? And the thing that tells me my lesson is not over? This morning I weighed myself and the scale didn’t move. Not an ounce. However, instead of beating myself up and turning to the sweets with a “What does it matter” attitude, I’m breathing and staying strong and keeping on the food protocol. Drinking more water and trusting the process. The universe tried to derail me again, this time with something it knew would hurt me. I remained strong. I am strong. I WILL do this and I will succeed.

Then I will have celebrate with some soy ice cream!

HCG- Friday success

I weighed myself this morning and had lost another pound (166). It seemed too good to be true. I stared at the number and started to tear up. I am doing this. This weight is coming off. I don’t know why I didn’t believe it would happen. People lose weight all the time. I just don’t feel like I deserve it and that once it happens, what will I do?

Those are two huge things to think about. I don’t deserve it? Who doesn’t deserve to be healthy and happy? Who doesn’t deserve to look great? Who doesn’t deserve to be rewarded for their hard work? What about me makes me feel a sense of shock and fear when I see something I’m working towards start to actually happen. I’m succeeding. So why am I scared?

And the issue of actually completing a task? Finishing something? This is a good thing Amie! This is a great thing, and I will succeed. It’s okay to be good at something and have a tangible outcome.

I’m not sure why I have such a block with this. I’m not sure why it scares me to lose this weight, so succeed, to be happy and have one less obstacle in my life. But it does.

As I look down at my belly, my “trouble spot” I realize I’m comfortable here. That’s no good. I have to get out of this comfort zone. I have to push myself harder and work smarter to lose this weight and become the brilliant working machine I know I can be. I have to go through these painful mental times and push into calm, powerful self esteem. I have quit too many times before because I was afraid to succeed. That has to stop. No more excuses. No more comfortable. No more imaginary issues that hold me back. It’s time to move forward.

Vying for Disasterella

www.disasteronheels.com

I came upon this blog through a friends Twitter account. (I love social media so much!) I fell in love with the name and then the writing. I realized I had found a kindered spirit in the blog-universe and someone I wanted to get to know, even if it remained a one-way relationship. I'm kind of used to those.

Then on Tuesday she posted her Walk of Shame video and a reminder she was still taking submission for Disasterella. Disasterella?!!? That is ME! All that was needed was a good Walk of Shame story. Well, if nothing else I have at least a dozen WOS stories that display my love of living life to the fullest.

I email her four options and ask her which one she wants to hear. She emails back that afternoon with palpable excitment, telling me she loves my stories and any one of them would work. And maybe she would like all of them to do a feature about me on her blog. Shut up! Yes, please!!

Here is what I sent her.
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I wake up and look at the wall next to me. It takes me a minute to realize I don’t recognize it. At all. I slowly turn my head to the side in an effort to get my bearings. I see the tell-tale bars of a hostel bunk bed. I wouldn’t have known this before last week, but since this is the seventh hostel in as many days, I’m getting used to memorizing the color of the beds. I’m pretty sure I’m still in Brussels, home of the blue-railing hostel. As I roll over to my stomach, getting on my hands and knees in an effort to keep my head from spinning, I feel my shirt stick to me. I realize with a frown that I am wet. Sopping wet, head to toe, along one side of my body. And I’m not wearing pants.

What?

I am not wearing pants. And I have to pee. I slowly move over to get off the bed when I see that I am on the top bunk. I look over the side, hoping my pants will be lying-in-wait for me to rescue them from their leg-less existence. My cursory look with blood-shot eyes reveals I have nothing there. Not my backpack or my purse…..or traveling companion. I take a deep breath and realize with a smack of confusion that I am in the wrong bed, in the wrong room and I’m still not sure if I’m even in the right hostel.

I peel the sheet off me and assess my situation. I have to get down the bunk bed ladder, preferrably without vomiting everywhere. I soon discover there is no graceful way to do this. I crawl down, ass in the air, praying quietly no one would wake up to my decending thong. I see 5 people in their beds, all sound asleep. As I pull my clothes away from my body- Why am I wet?!!?- I double check that my travel companion is for certain not in the room. He is not. There is nothing for me to do but walk through the hostel and hope to find him. In my underwear.

I have a fleeting thought that a shower might be nice, but since I cannot find my pants I’m certain a towel is not in my near future.

I open the door out to the hall, positioning a random shoe in the automatically-locking doorway in case I have to return. I walk down the hall, my urge to find my pants trumped by my need to find a bathroom. I succeed in finding the ladies room and splash some water on my face. The shower taunts me, but I tap the door with resignamtion and continue on my search. With newfound determination I head out to find my companion, and my pants.

Three doors, and room searches later, I find him, sleeping soundly. On the top bunk. At this point I am so happy to see him I no longer care that I have to climb, ass out, up to see him. This time with the tell-tale stirrings of people waking up so I’m certain the thong show was seen in all its glory. I also am too happy to see him to consider that he might not want a soaking wet, pantless, hungover girl crawling in bed with him. He didn’t. I was greeted with a groggy “Why the HELL are you wet?!!?”

I answer him with a pat him on the cheek and ly down next to him, squeezing myself next to him on the twin-sized bed, slyly stealing the covers from him. He tells me my pants are in my backpack, which is on my bed underneath us. I smile and tell him to wake me when it’s time to go. He laughs sinisterly, tells me the train leaves in 45 minutes and to get my pants on.

45 minutes? Apparently my hangover will follow us to Bruge.
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There you go. I hope she likes it. I hope I win. If nothing else, this might lead me to a double sided-relationship and a new blogging friend. There are worse things.

HCG- Days 3-5

168.4

Good morning to me! I am so eager to wake up every morning and see what the scale says. This fast dropping is exactly what I need to keep me motivated. And believe me, with a diet that is just veggies, protein and 2 fruits a day, I need all the motivation I can find.

Monday was a difficult day. I woke up with a pounding red wine headache from dinner the night before. The steak house with my girls was so much fun, and exactly what I needed as a “last supper” sort of thing, although my bank account disagrees with me. I spent much of Monday with a headache, which I was ready for. Everything I read said headaches are a side effect. I can handle a headache. It’s a small price to pay for a svelte, healthy figure.

Food on Monday- a grapefruit, 4 melba crackers, sliced chicken breast, green beans, tuna fish, 2 small cucumbers, and an apple. Along with lots of green tea, herbal tea and about a gallon of water. The water is the biggest part. I already drink a lot, but with this eating protocol they ask for even more. So I’m doing it.

I felt tired and awful Monday. No sense in denying it. I wasn’t hungry, but I was a little grumpy. At rehearsal I got a little light headed, but remedied it with more water. I'm sure the lightheaded-ness was more from the mask, gloves and cloak the Witch wears. I'm sweating buckets!

Tuesday was more of the same. Grapefruit, 5 shrimp, cauliflower, sliced chicken, 2 plums, 4 melba crackers, a tomato, water and tea. I added in a few cups of black coffee because I didn’t want the same headache I had on Monday. There are hunger pangs, but nothing that is going to kill me. I truly hate being hungry, but I’m learning it’s not the worst thing in the world. I always have something to eat with me, so when I start to get hungry to the point of sick I just pop in a tomato or cucumber slice. It’s not amazing, but it works. In the past, when I have tried calorie counting diets or deprivation diets, I always give up when I get truly hungry, falling into the “life is too short to be hungry” frame of mind. Life is short. But this eating pattern is only 30 days. I can feel hunger a few times because the pay off is worth it.

Things I’m noticing:

- I feel lighter. Maybe it's all in my head, but I am noticing that I just feel cleaner and less worn down in my body. I no longer feel like I don't fit in my skin. It's a hard thing to explain, but it's there. I also felt this way when I became vegan and gave up dairy. The first few days you really start to feel that layer of lactose clear out of your system. It's wonderful.

- Doesn’t take so much to fill me up. I used to be able to eat an entire medium pizza. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s good for a comparison. These days I’m eating really small portions more frequently and I have a hard time even finishing an apple. I know I need to eat all my calories for the day so I force myself to finish. Instead of three meals I am having better luck with 6 small meals spaced throughout the day. Plus it gives me something to look forward to.

- The cravings for crap food are still here. I got into some amazingly bad habits these past two months. Drive-thrus on the way home from rehearsal was the worst and I am feeling it this week. I wasn’t really hungry last night on my way home from rehearsal, but I wanted to stop and get something to eat. Simply because I wanted to. So instead I went to the supermarket and bought food to cook and eat for the next three days. Cooking was wonderful. I haven’t cooked for myself in a really long time. I think I had spaghetti in June. Seriously, that’s the last time I made something for myself to eat.

- I’m surprised to find myself less distracted by boys. Apparently I have an obsessive personality and always need to be thinking about how to do something. All of July I was thinking about boys and how to snag one. Apparently August is going to be about food and how I can survive without my bad habits. Boys included.

- I really want a milk shake

I am down three pounds. That is a big deal. This is working. It is difficult. It takes work and planning and commitment. It takes having the strength to tell myself “no” and honestly be okay with it. I am learning a lot about what I need and what I want.

Most importantly, I’m learning that I am worth putting in the effort.

HCG- Days 1&2- Two days of EATING!!

My favorite part of this diet, other than the projected weight loss? Phase 1. During the first two days on the drops you are asked to eat high calorie, high fat foods to stimulate your hypothalamus gland and store up calories with the hormone now in your system. Whipped cream on that? Yes please! Milk shake? Yup. Fries? Well, I don’t usually eat french fries, onion rings are my weakness, but sure! Two days of saying yes to everything.

These two days are also a time to say good bye to foods since the diet is so strict for 30 days. And ultimately I will not return to these negative eating habits, so it’s a true good-bye. Here is what I ate Saturday and Sunday:

Saturday- large blended mocha with whipped cream, two donuts, foot-long Italian subway sandwich with cheese, ravioli, cheese bread, 24oz beer, frozen yogurt, linguine, jack and coke, Taco Bell big box. (whew! That’s a lot of food)

Good bye donuts, blended mochas, Taco Bell and cheesy Italian food.

Sunday- McGriddle, large iced Carmel mocha with whipped cream, 7-11 taquitos, another iced coffee, cheeseburger, strawberry milkshake, filet mignon, Cesar salad, mashed potatoes, mac n cheese, ice cream, bottle of wine and shots.

Goodbye McDonalds, In-n-Out, 7-Eleven, and ice cream

There you go. Food I will not eat again for a month. There are no cheat days on this food plan. Looking at that food list I’m impressed and a little ill. This is not the food of a healthy person. This is someone who doesn’t care and is just eating because she feels she deserves it. No one deserves to treat their body like this. It’s a machine that needs love and nurturing and good fuel. The sad part? I felt great all weekend. No bloating or upset stomach or anything. That only tells me I am in deeper than I thought. My body should be repelling these foods, not accepting them as par for the course.

Tomorrow starts the 1000 calorie days for a month. 30 days of conscious choices and smart food plans. 30 days of getting back in touch with my body, why I eat what I eat and why I feel I “should”. It’s only 30 days of saying “no” and drinking tea instead of beer. 30 days to change my life forever? I can do this. I have to do this.

Here’s to tomorrow!

HCG- Why this one?

After weeks of reading every article online I decided on doing the HCG diet. Trust me, I didn’t enter into this lightly. As a struggling artist and soon to be starving grad student I certainly don’t have the $100 to spend on something other than getting out of debt. And, like always, I wanted to be able to be strong and say “If I just work harder I can do this without paying for programs or anything”. But when I’m honest with myself I see that I am not that strong. I don’t do well with long-term incentives. I promised myself a trip to Vegas and a new white bikini if I lost 20 lbs in 6 months and I couldn’t do it. I’m actually heavier than when I set that goal in January. I know that I need something with lighting fast results that will change my life. HCG sets that standard.

There is a lot of information about the HCG diet. More than I can put here. Plus you’ll want to do your own reading if you’re interested. The gist of the diet is HCG is the hormone that pregnant women use to pull nutrition from their body to feed the fetus. Oor bodies are pretty brilliant. Dr. Simione discovered that if he injected this hormone into non-pregnant people their bodies will start to use the stored calories the same way. Fast forward 54 years and I’m ordering it online. The claim is a woman can lose 20 lbs in a month (men upwards of 30lbs the first month) and keep it off because your body readjusts itself. Like a resetting. I have been this weight for 3 years. I need something to shake things up and get moving in the right direction.

The saying “If it’s too good to be true it probably is” might work with this diet. Afterall, of COURSE I’m going to lose weight quickly. I’m restricting my calories to 1000 a day, cutting out dairy, carbs and sugar. I’m obviosuly going to lose weight. However, the drops (whether placebo effect or true help) are what’s going to keep me in line and successful. I have to take the drops 3 times a day. So three times a day I am forced to re-evaluate what I’m doing and look at my choices. I can’t just blindly go through life any more, not paying attention to the outcome of my actions.

I got the drops this morning and I am ready to roll. I have a vision of what I’m going to look like in 30 days. I have motivation. My co-worker is doing it as well, giving me a burst of support. I am being open and honest with everyone so there is an understanding that this is important to me and I am determined to succeed.

I am doing this!

Time to work through the weight pain

I currently weigh 172.2 pounds. It’s hard for me to write that, let alone put it online where everyone can read it. 172 is an ugly number to me. One that I am not proud of. I see that and all I think is "I'm fat. I can't possibly be that weight. What the hell?!!?"

I don’t look like I weigh that much. I carry myself well, dress for my shape and position myself correctly when I take picture. But I weigh 172 pounds. That's the hard truth and and there’s no reason to hide behind it any more. There is such a stigma to the numbers on the scale and we are raised to never ask a woman’s weight or her age. I want to beat down that notion and learn to be at peace with my weight.

However, being at peace is not the same as being complacent, which is what I have been. Today I weigh the same as I did three years ago when I lost my father. I ate everything with him and then when he died I kept eating, didn’t care about calories or fat or the repercussions. I felt life was too short to say “no” any more and I wanted to enjoy life. And I have. I love my life and the people I share it with. And I know they all love me no matter what the scale says. There is great comfort and support in that.

I have tried diets and working out, Jenny Craig, low-carb and low-calories, personal trainers and endurance event training. Nothing has helped shed these extra 20lbs. I’m certain age is also a factor since I haven’t been able to lose since turning 30. It’s frustrating. I get fired up about losing the weight, read about every diet possible and then a week into it find a reason to stop. Usually it’s because I’m tired of feeling deprived. I won’t lie- more than once I have justified my poor eating with “I don’t have a father, might as well eat.” Or, “I’m going to die in 20 years any way. Why deny myself?” Or, “It’s not worth worrying about; weight doesn’t matter because my dad is gone.” It’s not a pretty picture to paint for myself, but there it is. I have been hiding behind my grief and allowing my weaker self to take over, and it has wreaked havoc on my body. I’m done.

The time has come to work through all the pain and self-esteem issues I am carrying. These extra pounds are all just bad choices. It’s sleeping instead of going to the gym. It’s justifying the drive-thru instead of being honest with myself and saying I don’t really need it. It’s looking for instant gratification with the joy of food instead of learning patience and calm and respect for myself.

It’s time to love myself, and that means putting my food choices and health before the fear that I’m going to miss something. I eat because there is a part of me that truly feels I could die tomorrow so why not enjoy life today. Living in fear is no way to live. I have no interest in dying at 52. I plan to live to be over 100. I have no interest in hiding in flowing skirts and sweatpants because nothing fits. I want to enjoy fashion and my body. I am very comfortable in my skin right now. I have no trouble getting naked in front of people because I accept that this is where my body is now and worrying about it, or hiding “seductively” under a sheet isn’t going to change anything. Part of getting older is accepting where we are in life and who we are, and then working hard to be better. Part of living is seeing there is a way out of any tunnel you’ve dug for yourself. The digging starts now.

I am 172.2 pounds. It’s too heavy for my size. It’s too heavy for my comfort. It’s not who I am. But I'm posting this number so I have a starting place and a jumping off point. This number is going to go down. It's going to change. I want proof that my hard work paid off.

I am not going to quit on myself this time. I'm too important to live half a life.