Clearing the air.

There are three people right now that I can think of who should have their own blogs. I will approach you all privately, only to be rejected. The Informinator is one that I will just mention publicly. There is so much I could say about her. It would never end. If I am lost and need an address or direction orientation, I call her first. If I were in jail or in surgery or trapped under something heavy, I’d call her first. Somehow, she’d know what to do.

She doesn’t have a smart phone and this is now a huge point of contention between us. Up until 2 months ago, we had a pact to stick together on the phone thing. We said we’d get smart phones together in February of 2013. But then my Dumb Phone died and my husband had a smart phone sitting unused at his office. I don’t think the Informinator is over this betrayal even now. Weeks have passed. She still won’t make eye contact with me. Maybe that’s because I’m usually sweaty when she sees me, but I think it’s the smart phone issue. I tried to console her. I said, “Informinator, if you had a smart phone, you’d be SOOOO smart that you’d want different friends. We’d all be too dumb for you. Think of it as a way to keep your relationships strong.” She just gave me the stink eye and kept on walking.

At any rate, since she doesn’t have the blog I try to get her to have, she contributes to mine by way of smartness and wry comments. If you ever read the comments section, then you’ve seen her little nuggets. The most recent one was this:

The Informinator says:

Are you ever going to tell them you never made it out of the driveway because you had a flat tire? They deserve to know.

This comment made me laugh out loud. It followed my HEY EVERYONE I’M GOING BIKING post. I did try to bike the 12 miles. I tried hard. I planned my route, packed my backpack, got dressed, pumped my tires, and got myself a large water bottle. I was ready.

Then, because I saw the Informinator’s name on AOL’s instant messenger, I messaged her about this. I mean, OBVIOUSLY, IMing the Informinator before biking is a precursor to actually biking.

(9:17:12 AM) missysnapp: Tires are pumped. Backpack secured. Lock in backpack. Publix is destination.
(9:17:34 AM) informinator: rain coat?
(9:17:35 AM) missysnapp: Must make it to Publix.
(9:17:37 AM) missysnapp: Ha
(9:17:44 AM) missysnapp: No rain in forecast till later
(9:17:50 AM) informinator: or will you be too fast for the rain to even land on you.
(9:17:58 AM) missysnapp: you are so right
(9:18:14 AM) missysnapp: much larger chance of overfilling my backpack.
(9:18:25 AM) missysnapp: Conditioner is on the list, if that scares you at all.
(9:18:33 AM) missysnapp: 😀
(9:19:11 AM) informinator: just remember the kmart debacle of 98. or whenever it was.
(9:19:44 AM) informinator: do not buy a giant jug of gatorade.
(9:19:49 AM) informinator: or a lantern
(9:22:17 AM) missysnapp: Duly noted.
(9:22:28 AM) missysnapp: To allay your fears…
(9:22:36 AM) missysnapp: I am not wearing my spandex bike shorts.
(9:22:42 AM) missysnapp: But only because I could not find them
(9:22:54 AM) missysnapp: I am off!

Immediately after this online conversation, I went outside to take pictures of myself ABOUT to go biking. They are so stupid that I will post one. Plus, besides the stupid factor, it proves that I was ready and willing to go biking.

Actually, it proves nothing except that I am a big enough loser to pose with my bike.

About 10 seconds after taking this shot, I got on my bike and pedaled three times.

Only to discover that the front tube was totally blown. Even if I had a spare tube in my possession, which I didn’t, I couldn’t have changed it. I don’t know how to change bike tires.

And that was that.

I was really mad about this. This forced me to go for a long walk, which wasn’t nearly as interesting or as exciting as my Publix adventure. Who knows what would have happened?

I have my tire ready to take in tomorrow. Maybe we’ll get another shot at this biking thing.

I’ll take pictures…

What I learned from a pair of jeans…

What I learned from a pair of jeans…

Posted on July 19, 2012

Tonight I went to Kohl’s with my mother-in-law. She went with me to save me 20% and to keep me from committing a crime against eyes across America.

I’ve been lying to myself about what size jeans I wear. The truth is, I haven’t worn any REAL jeans in like 8 months. Maybe a year (the lies blur the dates for me). If you were around last summer when my blog went limp and dead, you might know that I spent the summer writing the text for an iPad app which is a choose your own adventure style book thingie. (You can get it on iTunes if you want to support the arts…or the arts wannabes. Search on ebook Time Machine and it will come up. Time Machine: Age of the Emperors. It’s not as weird as it sounds.)  During that summer, I was up to all hours every night, working on some pretty stiff deadlines. Looking back, I have no idea how I did it. I guess I did it with God’s help, the help from 1000 other people, and quite a few 3 a.m. pop tarts.

Which brings me back to the jeans.

If you sit at your desk long enough and eat enough pop tarts, you will part company with your jeans.

I did.

And then I began lying to myself about what was actually going on.

Tonight, I found the truth. Even after working out like a dog for 5 days and eating like a Jenny Craig poster child, I still haven’t lost enough to go shopping. And my jeans still don’t fit. Nor do most of the pairs I tried on at Kohl’s tonight.

I did find some that fit reasonably well. They did not take 20 pounds off me, as I had hoped, or make me look like an Olympic hopeful. Rumor has it there’s no shortcut for that.

They did teach me a thing or two about self-deception, though. You can tell yourself anything you want about what size you wear. But if that isn’t actually your size, you won’t have a fighting chance of stuffing those lies into a pair of Levi’s. I tried it.

And then I left the pack of lies on the floor of the fitting room and went home with a larger sized truth.

I wish I could say that I feel really honest and noble. But I kinda just feel like I own bigger jeans.

 

Jeans addendum and other things you don’t need or want to know…

If you were writing a blog about squeezing into too-tight jeans and I were reading it, I would want to ask the question: Why are you buying them if you aren’t happy with it, nim nim?

My mother in law said you have to cover your hiney with SOMETHING.

True. But there’s an awful lot of elastic available that people go for when dieting. So why jeans?

Well, I’ll tell you, since you didn’t ask.

I’m leaving Monday on a Wheat Farm Adventure. As in, I’m going to visit with some friends on a wheat farm. I don’t know what farmers do or what occurs on farms. I am suspecting it’s bad. Bad, bad things occur on farms…things they can’t tell you in the grocery store when they are scanning the barcode of your enriched wheat flour. I imagine walking through the wheat grasses and being bitten on the ankle by a mole hog. Or a pig. Or a coyote.

A farmer might tell you this is not an accurate imagining, but it’s my imagination and my jeans. You can’t take that away from me.

So when I asked what people wear on farms in July, I was told: WEAR JEANS.

That’s why I went shopping last night. And came face to face with the lies, then with the truth, then with the bigger sized jeans.

Also, my sister in law, inspired by my recent skating landslide victory, challenged me to a race in a local roller rink. Why do people keep torturing themselves trying to beat me?

I won. This time I beat TWO OLD PEOPLE.

I know. I may wear bigger jeans than some skaters, but I still skate like a greased vapor. She really should have known not to challenge me; I was wearing elastic pants…

Day One – Success

Day One of Operation Disappear was a success. Well, you can’t measure the success in any new muscles or a massive loss of fat cells. But I am measuring it in having met my goals.

I had to talk to Beloved pretty convincingly to get her to try out her bike. She was finally willing at 7 tonight. After 30 hard minutes, she did it. It was awkward. It wasn’t pretty in any way. But she did it. She stayed up on her own. Tomorrow should give us something to build on.

I ran this morning. I waved to an actual neighbor. I’m glad I couldn’t see the look on her face, because again…people do not jog out here. She was walking her dog, which is perfectly acceptable in the country. After 2 laps around, I saw a little dog in the next door field. He looked like Bolt. For some reason, it didn’t occur to me that small Bolt-like dogs can sail through barbed wire fences. But they can. And he did. And suddenly I was being chased by a barky, ridiculous little country dog in my own field. At one point, I stopped and turned to face him. All I could think to do was swipe at him backhanded like I was brushing crumbs off a table. I didn’t want to yell at him, because his owner was in the field he SHOULD have been in. The whole thing was very ugly. It is precisely what one can expect if one takes up running out here.

This afternoon Mama’s Boy and I biked the jogging path. That was nice.

I haven’t had a Diet Mtn Dew since Sunday. I don’t have any tremors, but I sure do miss it. I have a mild headache that I dearly hope doesn’t become severe. Dr. Oz says you are supposed to acknowledge the pain and shout things like “Bring on the Pain!” I did that on the way to Publix tonight. It came out sounding a bit more like “Please go easy on me….”

I can do this.

It’s practically already done.

Ha.

Redneck Exercise

Today I went to clean house for a man who is 88 and very interesting. He’s the best. He keeps his house cleaner than I keep mine, so I’m not sure why he keeps me around, but whatever. I guess. I always come away from seeing him feeling like I’ve gained a whole lot more than he has.

Today I had gained.
Weight, that is.

The last time I cleaned was about 2.5 weeks ago, at which point Beloved was with me, “helping.” She talked me into stepping onto his scale. I didn’t want to do it. But in my mind, I thought, “Well, this could be good. I’ll weight ONLY when I’m here and I’ll work hard on fitness between cleanings.”

Today it was time to weigh in again. I still didn’t want to. In my head, the worst case scenario was maintenance.

I saw that needle go up to a number that about freaked me out. How in the world did I gain 5 pounds in 2 weeks? ON A DIET. I know. It’s like I’m storing nuts for the winter. And the nuts weigh a pound each.

Only I’m not. And there’s no such thing as winter here.

I am storing something, though. 24 pounds of it.

I realize that there are people who think 24 pounds is not a big deal. For people who want to lose more than that, I might seem silly or disrespectful right now. I know this isn’t the worst problem ever. However, in the last 4 years, I have become the worst dressed person in central FL. The only person worse than me is Underwear Boy and he apparently doesn’t own clothes. So, in ways, I am worse.

So, I’ve been turning this one over in my big brain. I’ve come up with a few things:

  1. The gym is not happening for me between now and the end of August. It’s too far away and I have too many people in tow. So I can forget this one.
  2. No one thing is going to eliminate the 24 pounds. I can’t exercise to death. I can’t starve myself.
  3. I’m going to need a combo pack effect here. Abstaining from desserts? Probably pretty important right now. Drinking water? Yes, definitely. Dropping diet drinks? A must. Liposuction? Well, d-uh. OF course.
  4. My plans are usually very insane and intense and ultimately quite stupid. I do not understand or practice moderation. Either I am chewing 1000 calories a day in Super Bubble, or I am fasting. Neither is good right now.
  5. So I need to work with what I’ve got. I have a big field. I have children who want to play. And I have HEALTHY OPTIONS.  I will never accomplish this by making weird cold turkey statements. I will take small steps and consistent steps and see where that gets me.

THE PLAN

I WILL drink 4 bottles of water a day.
I WILL NOT drink more that 1 diet soda a day. The eventual goal is dropping it altogether. And I will no longer buy 12 packs.
I WILL exercise 30 minutes, 5 times a week. The field is my location. Running and biking are my activities.
I WILL TRY for 1300 calories a day.
I WILL write down what I eat.

Tomorrow I need to buy bananas. And spend at least 15 minutes helping Beloved ride her bike. And since Todd doesn’t have to leave for work early, I get to sneak in a breakfast run.

This is the beginning.
Of something.
I’m hoping it is NOT the beginning of gaining 5 more pounds.