Tag Archives: dieting

Just Keep Swimming

I was just finishing off a bowl of chocolate chunk ice cream and thought to myself, “I should really post on my diet blog again.”

 

Well, here I am, almost 3 months later and zero pounds down. I could blame it on the fact that I broke my foot running the bridge run, but that feels cheap. After giving up the elliptical, treadmill, any body weight training like squats and lunges, and yes, even spin class was making my foot hurt, I decided to try the only other option, swimming.

 

You might be thinking, oh yea! Swimming’s fun! Nope. I remember being a kid at the YMCA one summer and learning to swim was cool because you got a new colored band to wear around your neck for each improvement you made, and at the end of the summer if you swam in the deep end you got a black band, and only the really cool kids had a black band.

 

I also remember one of the most embarrassing moments of my life when I attended a pool party in 7th grade with all my friends (and by friends I mean a bunch of girls who hated each other, because…middle school), all the guys were doing flips off the diving board. Typical Allie move, I decide to try and be cool, one of the guys, and as everyone watches me, I stand at the end of the diving board, muster up all my gymnastics knowledge and coordination, take a big jump and….belly flop.

 

I also enjoyed boogie boarding in middle school, I would go to the beach with my best friend Brittany and we could boogie board for hours and hours, all week long. My entire back peeled off one summer. Only problem was, without my boogie board I felt like I might drown. The worse part was a few times I got sucked under by a wave and salt water would go all up my nose and down my throat and in my lungs and in my ears and eyes and it was just AWFUL. One of the worst feelings ever.

 

Needless to say my entire life I’ve been a nose-plugger. Any time I jump into water, or even dip my head under, I plug my nose with my fingers. Any time I can’t touch the bottom I have what probably constitutes as a minor anxiety attack. No wonder I put off this whole “swimming for fitness” thing for several weeks, but I had no other choice, and finally one day I just went. I swam 25 meters and had to stop to catch my breath. For the first few times I had to stop after every 25 meters and breathe. Oh, I also had my head above the water, like I didn’t put my face in, so my neck was killing me the next day and I also felt like an idiot.

 

This week, in the last 4 days, I’ve easily swam somewhere around 3000-4000 meters. This is after about 6 weeks of swimming at least 3 days a week, but once I finally got the hang of it, I didn’t want to stop. I know, it sounds just as weird coming out as it does to hear it. I actually found a form of exercise I don’t loathe. Isn’t that bizarre? Now you all think I’m a weirdo.

 

Swimming is nothing like any other form of cardio. The best thing is no one knows when you’re sweating profusely. Your thighs don’t rub together and you don’t have to keep pulling your shorts down. You don’t have to bring a towel to wipe your sweat because it’s dripping onto your bike (but you do have to bring a towel, it’s a pool after all). No one’s yelling at you to pedal faster or zumba harder or hold that plank longer. There’s no music, playlists, or “get pumped music.” All I hear is my inhale and my bubbles. And sometimes I don’t hear anything because my ears fill with water. You don’t have to wear makeup or worry about your hair. The makeup will run and make you look like a day-old prostitute and your hair is in a tiny bun in a skin-tight cap. And the very best part? That one-piece sucks in all that tummy. Oh yea baby, it’s like spanxx for your workout.

 

Now I can jump into water and not plug my nose! That’s a huge deal for me. I could probably also not drown now, so that’s good too.

 

I’m addicted and I just can’t enooouuuugh. I just can’t get enoouuugghh I just can’t get enoouuggh.. .

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Temptations

I’ve found that the harder I try to lose weight and “be good,” the more random people make it challenging for me. I made note of a few examples over the last week or so.

First, one fine Monday, I had a particular hankerin’ for Wendy’s, as I sometimes get. What? I enjoy their “sea salt” fries and floppy burgers every once in a while, okay? I told myself that what I really needed was quarters to do laundry, and used Wendy’s as an excuse to ask someone behind a cash register for laundry change. Two birds with one stone, people. I also said to myself, “Self, you don’t have a lot of money right now since you’re saving up for your New York trip, so let’s keep this order sweet and simple, under $3.” No big, that’s what value menus are for. With all of this churning in my dieting brain, I ordered a Jr. Cheeseburger…NOT a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, just to clarify. And a value fry. And a small diet coke, just for kicks and giggles. The lady told me my total would be six dollars and something. I said no, no. Just take that drink off, I didn’t need the carbonation anyways. She then told me my new total was four dollars and something, whatever lady, just give me my burger before I change my mind about this trip entirely. I asked the not-so-friendly worker if she had any quarters and she answered, “I already closed my drawer.” Oh, awesome. So I drive away and when I get home I see that there are actually TWO Jr. Cheeseburgers in the bag. And I DEFINITELY did not eat both of them. Nope, definitely not. And in case you were wondering, that meal was 940 calories.

Second, I joined some friends at a restaurant/bar downtown this past Sunday to watch some rugby. Well, I just went because Rob bribed me with brunch. My dieting brain + hunger pangs told me to get the ham and cheese, which sounded like a simple sandwich that would satiate me until dinner. My “ham and cheese” was plopped in front of me, the “sandwich” was actually two giant pieces of texas toast with about half a pound of ham in between, melted cheesy deliciousness covering the entire square footage of the sandwich, and a perfectly cooked duck egg on top. It looked incredible, but all I saw was CALORIES CALORIES CALORIES. Funny enough, one of the guys with us looked at me and said, “Allie, you won’t eat that whole thing.” And I replied, “Challenge accepted, sir.” And so it goes…I ate the whole darn thing. And it was SOO GUD.

I'm not even sorry

 

As my friend Abby would say, the struggle is real.

 

 

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Not-so-funny Fortunes

Really?

Really?

The Asians are just way too smart for me, they clearly have the same “skinny Goddess” as we do here in America, who plans and plots scenarios and makes sure they go her way before they even happen. Hence, this fortune cookie, that I opened after devouring a box the size of my face of General Tso’s chicken, an egg roll soaked in duck sauce, and several crab rangoons. How funny! Not.

Indeed, Skinny Goddess, tomorrow I MAY diet. I didn’t, though. I didn’t diet at all. TAKE THAT, UNIVERSE!

I must say though, I do strongly encourage everyone to splurge on copious amounts of Chinese every few months or so. It’s quite therapeutic, and although all you want to do afterwards is sleep, or complain about how terrible you feel for eating so much, it’s totally worth all that shame and self-loathing.

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The Forever Diet: it is what it is, ladies!

I decided to forego carbs starting the day after Christmas, after eating at least a gallon of butter-smothered holiday chex mix for 72 hours prior. Actually, I decided I needed to lose about 15 pounds…what I had gained over the course of the past 6 months. Actually just complex carbs, because literally EVERYTHING has carbs in it. No joke. Yogurt has carbs. Beans have carbs. Peanut butter has carbs. And I ain’t givin up peanut butter and beans, people. Yogurt, you can go, but the beans and PB are staying.

 

This no-carb idea was just a way to “kick start” my little pow wow. I thought to myself, “surely, if I don’t eat bread, crackers, potatoes, or pasta for a week or two, I’ll drop at least five pounds.” That left me with salad, chicken, salad, tuna, salad, eggs, and maybe some salad minus the lettuce if I was feeling really crazy. I LITERALLY DID NOT PUT A [COMPLEX] CARB IN MY MOUTH FOR SIX DAYS STRAIGHT. That’s right, except for when my boyfriend made me breakfast, like the sweet man that he is, and there was toast. It’s okay. And then I got some kind of stomach bug/food poisoning and all I ate that day was crackers and peanut butter. Whoopsies. But seriously, you guys, like a week!

 

And I did lose a few pounds, but now I’m stuck at 7 pounds down…lots to go. Before I start these regular rantings, I feel it’s necessary to give a little background. Maybe a little, “I am … therefore I think” activity.

 

I am a woman…therefore, I think I’m fat.

I am in my twenties…therefore I think I’m broke.

I have friends…therefore, I think I have no time for exercise (some days).

I love food…therefore, I think I must always diet.

 

Ah, and there we have it. I have been dieting, to some extent, since high school. Since I was fourteen. That’s ten years. TEN YEARS I have been dieting, exercising, doing it all right. And have I ever been happy with my weight? Abso-freakin-lutely not. And I’m not fat, I’m well aware of that. I’ve never been “overweight” according to BMI charts, I’ve never been called fat (directly), but most days I look in the mirror and I’m not happy with what I see. I’ve come to the conclusion that every girl has a mindset somewhat related to mine, we are never happy. And even if, by some miracle, we are happy with our weight, there’s something else we find to be unhappy about, our hair, our nose, our toes, who knows. I also enjoy poetry.

 

The older I get, the more comical it is to me. I’ve become so insensitive to my own thoughts that my constant weight battle is slightly entertaining. Like a couple months ago I stepped on the scale, as I do every day, and the number had been increasing pretty steadily, and finally I thought to myself, “welp Allie, you’ve done it again. You’re fat and now you have to work off all that food you’ve been eating, and it’s gonna suck.” (Even though I JUST did that! Ten months ago, I was the most in-shape and happy with my body as I had been in years.) And I’ll stand in front of the mirror and poke my stomach out and make a fart noise with my mouth. Another day, another diet. One day of cheating equals one week of salads and gym trips.

 

OH, it is glorious to be a girl.

 

More to come.

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