Day 49: Back to the Quaker

The Quaker dude looks friendly enough, but his smug, steely-eyed stare makes me automatically drop 5 pounds.

I'm back over 160 pounds (160.8, to be exact). Technically, that's within the healthy weight range for my height (I'm 5'9"), and people are often surprised I weigh that much, because the poundage is distributed pretty evenly. However, I like to keep it between 155–159. Ideally, I'd like to be between 145–149, so another 10 pounds down the drain would be awesome. That means whenever I hit 160 again, I have to up the exercising and control my eating habits better.

Eating oatmeal every morning for breakfast helps me drop few pounds. A good virus does the trick, too, but I'm enjoying the summer and don't really feel like sacrificing my current state of sun-kissed vibrancy for a slimmer figure. I could inhale oatmeal every day for long stretches -- I once consumed it every morning for a month, with absolutely no variation in how it was prepared or what was included with it. Some people might get sick of that routine, but I'm what you call a systematic eater for breakfast and lunch (I need some culinary spontaneity with dinner, though).

I used to eat flavored oatmeal, but I didn't like consuming all the added sugar, so now I prepare two packs of plain oatmeal with skim milk (water makes it too watery for my taste, and I like the added calcium) and add a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar, blueberries, bananas, and whatever other edible items I have lying around. I'm usually sated with this meal, plus coffee, and I immediately feel leaner and meaner.

After a few weeks of hitting the Quaker (or any private-label brand -- plain oatmeal is plain oatmeal), I don't crave higher-fat breakfast repasts. That said, on September 20, the day after the Dash, you can bet your booty I'll infiltrate the nearest Long Island diner to scarf down a cheese-laden omelette with home fries and a gigantic buttered English muffin. Warriors deserve rewards in the form of over-the-top repasts.

Day 50: Week in Review

Man up, hausewife!

Thursday: 30 minutes, 2.5 miles (soooo close to 2.6 I could feel it!)
Did what I said previously: 5.0 for the first 0.5 of each mile, then 5.5 for the second halves.

Next up: Adding a 5.5 to 1.0–1.5. If I can't do it, I can try alternating the next night on the 5.0's (a minute at 5.5, then back to 5.0); then the next night, try to make the middle one entirely 5.5, and then try again. I bet this doesn't make sense to anyone else but myself, but screw it, it's my blog and workout journal, I can write in hieroglyphics if I want.

The rest of the week was pretty horrid. Horrid in that I pretty much walked like a 90-year-old, because I figured it was better than nothing, and I just didn't have the energy to do more than that. My friend Donna thinks I might be anemic. It's either that or I have chronic fatigue syndrome or general malaise (I was actually diagnosed with this once) or some other crazy illness, because shit just ain't right. Gots to get me to a doctor ASAP.

Friday: 30 minutes, 1.5 miles
Walked at 3.5 the entire pathetic way.

And you thought that was bad:

Saturday: 30 minutes, 1.0 mile
Walked (if you can call it that) at 2.0 the whole way. For some of the time, I even had my head resting on the treadmill console. If Jillian Michaels had seen me, I would have had my ass kicked.

Sunday: 30 minutes, 1.0 mile
At least tonight I kept my head up!

So the record remains at 2.5 miles in 30 minutes (though I'm oh-so-close to breaking that 2.6-mile marker), or 43:03 minutes for the entire 3.3 miles. Good to know I have seven weeks left to get my act together.