VLCD - Day 1

VLCD Day 1: 152.2

Today was hard. I won’t lie. This is not for the faint of heart.  I have consumed nearly ½ my body weight in water, which means I am peeing every 12 minutes. That is going to get old, fast.   On the plus side I did not have a headache today. I feared the dreaded withdrawal headache from carbs and sugar, but it’s been ok. I felt a little cloudy today but nothing terrible.   And I drank black coffee and didn’t die. So I’m taking the small win. 

Am I hungry? Hell yes I am hungry. I figure the first 3 days are the worst so I’m going with that.  I probably won’t weigh myself for a few days – give things time to kick in a bit. 

Again – this is not for the faint of heart.

Today I consumed, shrimp, chicken, lettuce salad, asparagus, blueberries and an apple. Oh, and a melba toast.  I did whip up a little dressing concoction of apple cidar vinegar, dijon mustard, salt, pepper and a splash of water. It wasn’t bad. Tangy – but it’s going to work for me.  I am not really craving sugar so I am also taking that as a small win.

HCG Phase 1 - Loading Days

LD1 - 150.8 lbs.  I have no idea what my weight was today (LD2) as I was out of town with no scale in sight.  

Out of town is not a bad place to be for loading days.  Happily, fattening food can easily be acquired on vacation.

I thought long and hard about what food to eat for loading.I did a mix of good fats and terrible fats.  I ate until I was full but not to the point of feeling sick.   I loaded with the following (in no particular order)...

Coffee with 1/2 and 1/2 + sugar,  chocolate covered cashews, scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy, hash brown potatoes, a hot fudge sundae,  almond butter, peanut butter, a croissant with jam, blueberry muffin with butter, two 4 ounce tenderloins -- one with Bearnaise sauce (oh my god) and the other with a horseradish crust, stuffed mushrooms (stuffed with crab, spinach and cheese), au gratin potatos (I saw god and god is thinly sliced potatoes with cream and caramelized onions and cheese!),  a cheeseburger (no bun) with guacamole, french fries, a chocolate malted, barbeque ribs.

Overall I feel ok-ish albeit a bit meh -- part of this struggle is going to be halting my workout routine. I already feel soft.   I am nervous about day 1 of VLCD. Very nervous.  Hopefully I don't gnaw off my arm or someone elses. I have planned ahead and have all my food for the next few days measured, bought and packaged.  I suspect the morning will be the worse. I love coffee with cream and sugar. Going without will be torture.  I don't really do black coffee. It tastes like an ashtray.  I tried some of the stevia and HATE IT.  So bitter with a nasty aftertaste . No thanks. I might try 1 TB of milk and ice it down a bit to cut the bitterness.

My goal is 20 pounds and to keep it off and kick the sugar/carbs.    This is supposed to be a 21 day protocol but I have hcg troches for 28 days so I might as well gut it out 7 more days.  I started the Hcg on LD1 - they taste like tangerine and take about 5 minutes to dissolve under my tongue.

The HCG Diet Decision – a bit of backstory

I have decided to take the HCG diet plunge.  A bit of backstory about my situation.  I’ve decided to blog about my experience. I did a lot of reading about the diet prior to making the decision to do it and maybe my experience will be helpful one way or the other to someone else. Or maybe it illustrates what an utter disaster this diet is. I’m not sure which way it’s going to go. I’m guardedly optimistic.

  

I am 49, 5’4 and weight 150.2 lbs.  For the longest time I hovered at 137 lbs and then I turned 47. My weight shot up to 154 pounds – the most I have ever weighed including pregnancy.   I am active. And I define active as working out for 45 minutes or more 4-5 days a week.  I lift weights and do cardio.  2 years ago I started taking Personal training group classes (kinda like cross fit but not labeled as cross fit).  I lost 1 pound but was more toned. Still my pants didn’t fit.  After 9 months I started logging everything I ate.  1240 calories a day. I started running and completed my first 5K.   In three months I lost 1.8 pounds.  I tried various combinations of high protein, low fat and low carb.  Nothing moved the needle up or down.  If I ate really really well nothing happened. If I slipped (like during the holidays) nothing happened.  Yeah… super frustrated. All my weight is in my middle – as if someone inflated an inner tube around my gut.

I went to my doctor and was told and I quote” Yeah, it just gets harder when you get older. Just wait until you hit menopause, it’s gets worse.” Really? This is what I can expect from my health care professional – a heart to heart that this is as good as it’s going to get?  So sorry – you are doing all the right things but there is no physical benefit.  I don’t accept that.

I am healthy but have health stuff including hypothyroid and auto immune issues.

I sought out a boutique NP Practice in my hometown that specializes in women’s health, paid $300 out of pocket for a consultation.  She ran some blood tests. My thyroid was a hot mess. We spent 3 months adjusting my meds both the T4 and T3.  I felt great.  She also corrected my adrenal function with some supplements.  I still felt great but couldn’t drop a pound.  I tried B12/lipotropics (again – felt fabulous) but no real weight loss.  After A LOT of discussion and reading I’ve decided to take the plunge and try a 21 day protocol of hcg sub lingual troche pellets.  My goal is 15 pounds. 

The hardest thing will be no coffee (I like mine with milk and 2 sugars) and the obvious elimination of all fats and carbs. I don’t do a lot of carb loading but I do like some carbs.  I have some GI issues so lots of raw veg can be a challenge for my guts.  This will be an interesting experiment.

I am going to start my loading days on May 30 and 31 and get right down to it on June 1.

Stay tuned.

Hot Yoga - An Update

Yeah. I still haven’t done it yet. I can’t mentally get past the fact that I’ll have to be in hot room with a bunch of lithe young yoga moms while sweating.

The certificate expires in June. I’m contemplating how attached I am to the $30.

Right now I’m not feeling so attached.

I know.

I’m pathetic.

Saying Thank You

Recently, my son was diagnosed with Little League Shoulder which you can read about by clicking on the link.

My son made an appointment to chat with his baseball coach about his arm, his ability to try out or not try out and potential involvement in the 2012 JV Baseball Team. I give the kid major snaps for being proactive to have this discussion. At 15, I preferred to deal with difficult situations by mostly feeling sorry for myself, crying a lot and avoiding all manner of adult interaction.

It was a good conversation. He was reassured that even if he can’t play, he can still be involved on the team. Keep book. Do stats. Lead in other ways. I could see the relief wash over his face when he shared the news of his meeting. I’m also sure the relief washed over mine. I’m pretty sure I’m taking this whole shoulder setback harder than he is.

In addition to feeling huge quantities of mama duck pride, I was just so very grateful to his coach/teacher for taking the time to meet with him. I totally get that this is a part of his job and that he should be meeting with kids; but we all know that some teachers just don’t get it. And this one does. And I am appreciative. That should be acknowledged.

I really wrangled with sending his coach an email. (I fully admit I’m talking out of both sides of my mouth here since I just blogged about the value of hand-written notes, but I think we can all agree, email probably was appropriate in this situation).

I don’t want to be one of “those mothers” who inserts herself their kid’s athletic scenarios. I’ve witnessed those mothers. There are unpleasant people and I have no desire to model myself after the athletic version of the stage mother demanding more playing time for their kid. But as a tax-paying parent of the MMSD, I wanted his coach to know that a.) I am aware of the discussion and b.) thankful of his time to meet with my kid on this issue and reassure him of his value to the baseball program.

And so I did just that. And I’m glad I did. He was appreciative of my appreciation. Clearly we could have formed a mutual admiration society. But I do think it’s important to acknowledge the things that people do for us day in and day out, even if they are part of the job expectation. I don’t think we do that enough. I know I am guilty of taking these types of gestures for granted, albeit unwillingly.

The human animal needs a pat on the head for a job well done. And I was happy to give it.

Rejected

I received my first art show rejection today for the Spring Green art show.

Bastards.

I shouldn’t be too upset. Of all the shows I’ve applied to over the years, I’ve only been rejected by two. My odds are actually pretty good. Unfortunately I was really hoping to get into this one. Better luck next year I guess.

After the great Kohler debacle of 2011, I’ve decided to take a slightly different approach to the whole art fair thing. Mostly I’m focusing on outdoor shows and fattening up my consignment opportunities. If I can give someone my stuff to sell… they haul it, set it up, sell it and pay the sales tax for modest commission, seems like a win-win to me.

But who are we kidding. Art Show Rejection is the equivalent of “your baby is ugly”. And my baby isn’t ugly. My baby is darn cute actually.

Art show snobs.

Sigh.

"Can I call you Stef?"

No. No you can’t, with few exceptions which I will comment on shortly.

Stef is informal. It implies a certain level of familiarity. In the professional world, you may not call me Stef. I will correct you. And if you do it again, I will deliver a succinct, yet terse, reminder. It doesn’t matter that I’ve worked for the same company for 20+ years. It doesn’t matter how many projects we’ve been on together. It doesn’t matter if you’re my favorite barista at Starbucks. If our relationship is strictly professional, meaning we’ve never traded hat sizes over a martini, you’re not “Stef” worthy. Sorry. Don’t take it personal. I simply prefer Stefanie.

Exceptions to the Stef rule.

1. You are a blood relative. Blood. Not marriage. An in-law can acquire Stef privileges but only if you can prove you know the correct spelling of my name. Hint. There is no “ph”.
2. You are my legalized spouse.
3. I’ve known you for a ridiculous number of years, which means we’re besties or pretty good friends. (Kel, Carlson, Carol, Janet, Tam, Jacquie, Cindy, Lisa, Graz, Scott, Kev). It probably also means we have traded hat sizes, sipped a few drinks (maybe a few too many), shopped, cried, laughed until we almost peed our pants (maybe we did, I won’t say), gave honest feedback about each other’s bad fashion choices, shopped for shoes, swimsuits, lingerie, watched movies, cooked, baked, helped each other out of tough spot and know each other’s secrets.

You get the idea. If you don’t fall into one of the three categories, “Stef” is like nails on a chalkboard. I start to twitch and the hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. If you do you fall in the aforementioned categories and you call me Stef, I don’t even notice. It’s all good.