It's been a difficult week here.  First, a friend  retired, someone my husband sees most days at work, likes immensely, respects, and relies on at work.  My husband has been "down" or depressed about 5 days in his entire life, but he's pretty down about this. The good news is that the friend is going to through-hike the Appalachian Trail, and dear husband hopes to meet up with him and hike a section.

Second, a friend of ours who occasionally camps/rides with us passed away on Sunday, VERY suddenly, at age 65, so the week has been full of worrying about his wife, taking food to the family, copying and delivering pictures of past rides, and passing the news to other horse-friends. Today is visitation, with the funeral tomorrow.

I did manage to walk/jog 2 miles on the treadmill Monday (not nearly as enjoyable when you have to keep your shirt on....our son was in and out of the house, darn it), then yesterday I hiked the Heritage Trail (mostly paved, with a fairly steep and long uphill) in the sunshine with my trusty traildog, Sigmund. It was nice to have a sunny day with temps in the low 50s.

My husband has now lost about 16 lbs on that nasty Nutrisystem diet, and I'm holding at 4 lbs lost on my diet/exercise plan. What is that definition of insanity?....doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?  That's me: sticking to my food plan, even tho it obviously is NOT working.  Actually, it's a bit ambitious to call it a "plan."

1435 miles to Moab.

Ode to my thighs...

Today two dear friends came to town to do a hike/walk with me.  We had planned to do a 5K in Louisville but when we found out that usually thousands, actually THOUSANDS of people participate in this particular 5K, we decided to do our own private 5K.

So we met here at my house. The weather forecast was for a cloudy morning, then sunshine, with temps climbing to 50.  Well.......not exactly. It was a cold, windy, gray 36 all dang day.  But we persevered.

We hiked a paved trail, thru the edge of town, up a pretty steep  hill, around a former state hospital grounds, then back down.  All in all, I think 4 miles.

And good grief!  Going up that hill, my big ole thighs just powered along.  Absolutely NO problem.  Now, while I curse them (and my big butt) frequently, and could just die when I see myself in a photo, those big ole thighs have some serious muscle in them.  Covered with some serious fat, but still, serious muscle. I'm grateful (well, I'm trying to be grateful) for them, and vow to try to not be so mean/mad/hateful toward them.....like fantasizing about taking a really sharp big knife and slicing some of them off, or maybe a medical grade chain saw......uh oh, I may have said too much. 

Anyway, I'm going to try.  As my gynecologist (about a size 3) said at my appointment Friday, "There are all kinds of fitness; you're very fit."  The unspoken part of that was, ".....but fat."  Like it's a news flash.

So.......1440 miles to Moab.

AHA! An answer

I've GOT it!!  Just did 2 miles on the treadmill, and loved it.  I've found the answer.

Please note: if you are a squeamish person, or have just had lunch, or are skinny, do NOT read on........

I walked on the treadmill for 2 miles at a #2 incline.....TOPLESS!  Yes!  Well, I had my sports bra on so my boobs wouldn't bounce. No one was home (finally, alone in the house).  Turned up the iPod, took off my shirt, and flung it.

Had the blinds up halfway, so I don't think anyone could see me from the road.  I'd better not see any videos of a fat girl on a treadmill without a shirt.  It was fun, and freeing. I've seen commercials of The Biggest Losers and those brave people who weigh way more than I do (at least this month, so far, unless I visit the Peep aisle more than I should....fingers crossed) always have their shirts off.  On National Television!  By the way, I'm sticking with my opinion that some of them actually drop dead on those treadmills and are dragged off out of camera view.

Anyway, I feel so much better.  However, I can't take my pants off and walk/jog....my thighs would rub together and maybe start a fire.

How's it going, Peeps?

I just do NOT know why I canNOT get back into exercising. I enjoy it (well, for the most part).  Why can I not get back on that treadmill?  Every single darn day this week I've gotten out of bed with every intention of getting back to it. Sure, the weather's been cold, &/or rainy, and mostly dark grey, cloudy skies, but for crying out loud. I need to get off my fat ass and get going.

So far I've lost 4 lbs since .....hmmm, might as well say January 1st, altho I don't think I started then.  Geez. Be careful driving past my house; you might slip on all my melted fat on the road.

And now, I've discovered something both wonderful and heinous......chocolate dipped Peeps.  I'm not even going to wax eloquent about them. Suffice it to say, they're delicious.  For those of us for whom sugar is not only a food group, it's the mother lode of all food groups, Peeps are manna from heaven.  Thank the Lord they only come 3 to a package.

And no, I did not eat all 4 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. I gave several to my son.  Speaking of him: today is his birthday. I bought the cutest TINY cake for the 3 of us here at home.   Progress?  *shrug*

My apologies to those of you who thought this would be an uplifting, success story of a blog, where the fat just melts off and I become addicted to running marathons and wear a size 2 and am named  athlete of the year by Sports Illustrated, where I say things like, "It's not a diet; diets don't work. I've come to realize it's a lifestyle change."  Where I SEE THE LIGHT.

Well, I do see the light, but I'm afraid it's still the refrigerator light. 

But I'll keep trying.  Tomorrow: the treadmill.

OH NO!!!!!!!!

A neighbor just delivered my Girl Scout cookies....oh no, please no.  I think she was sent by the devil. She doesn't even HAVE any daughters.   I've had two good days. Yes, two. I think my jeans feel a bit more loose.  Hey, I have a wonderful imagination.

Today is a gorgeous day, sunny but windy.  Still, it gives one hope for spring. I saw some daffodils' green tips peaking up thru the mulch.

I haven't been walking on the treadmill.....too noisy. Personally, I feel that's quite the creative excuse....er, reason.

I haven't been hiking......too scary. We have had a possible intruder in the abandoned house about 1/4 mile behind our house. I hike or ride past that house, ALONE, when I hike or ride. So until I get a big ole gun, I'm a bit chicken.  At least until the scaredy-pants part of me wears off.  *sigh* Another excuse.

However, I did grab one of our dear, sweet, calm horses and ride him bareback around outside for about 15 minutes. Haven't been on since early November; he was a dear. (not a deer).

Here's the question: can I count the miles I ride toward Moab?

Enough of my silliness today.   Now where did I put those GS cookies?  NO NO NO NO

In case you're wondering.....samoas are the only cookie worth buying.

Oops, mileage correction & confession

Math was my worst subject. I have "math anxiety," as they call it now.  Putting a prettier label on it instead of calling it what it is: math incompetence.  I am a right brain.

Anyway, the correct mileage NOW to Moab is 1446. Subtracting the total AZ mileage of 40 miles, which is including the walking mileage I did while my dear husband was at his meeting.

Speaking of that, I have a confession......I actually  lost the rental car in the HUGE shopping mall parking lot on our last day in Tempe.  This is embarrassing: I spent  over an hour walking around, growing increasingly frantic (only in my mind; I am sure I looked as cool as one can look while walking up and down rows of cars for over an hour, sometimes with people in cars following me, waiting to take my parking spot).  I actually stopped and told two drivers creeping along behind me that they'd be welcome to my spot, if only I could find the darn car, and if they see a little green Cobalt with Tennessee plates, come back and tell me.

So, 1446 miles to Moab. Or at least I THINK it's 1446. I'm not good at math.

Warning: harsh words & whining

Back home.....blah.  But at least the weather has improved since we left. Here is the absolutely, freaking bad news: I did all that hiking, sweating, huffing and puffing, for 12 days (well, at least most of them), and actually GAINED 3 lbs!  38 miles, counting the walking miles before we left AZ.  The 3 lbs I had lost in the previous 2 weeks of walking, jogging, huffing and puffing.  It FOUND me and wants me to give it a good and permanent home. Might even bring some friends.

Well, not this fat girl.  Once again, I'm staring at spring coming like a freight train and I've wasted January and February......not seriously losing any weight.  Do I want to see myself on one of those horses, rolls of fat, fat thighs, sweating like every fat girl does in summer heat?

I am monumentally pissed. Excuse my language, but this is riduculous. I began (again), as always, on Monday morning....start fresh, get serious, this time......yada, yada, yada.  And when I got to work, fresh off my oatmeal breakfast, there was a large bag of Valentine goodies with my name on it. One of our very sweet nurses always makes treat bags  for each of us for holidays.  Did I mention it's one of our skinny nurses?  I'm the only fat one.

And speaking of "the only fat one," that's the story of my life.  Well, except for the few years I was skinny around 2000, and the other scattered few years of normal weight, I'm always surrounded by skinny people.  If I am doomed to be fat for all time, can't some of them gain a few pounds???!!!!

Ok, that's it for today. I can sit here and write volumes of complaints and excuses, or I can get up and get to work on walking/jogging, starving, so that when I get on my horse, he doesn't think, "Hey! One at a time here!"

And yes, of course I ate the Valentine goodies.  Oatmeal for breakfast, oatmeal at McDonald's for lunch (we stop there after seeing patients at our satellite office, on the way back to see more patients at the regular office), then little (but many) Valentine goodies on the way home from work.  Sheesh. I'm an idiot.  A fat idiot.

But hell, I'm going to work on it.  Moab, here I come.