Phase 3: OMG!

So, phase 2 didn't last long. I kept cheating, switched back to phase 1, kept going back and forth trying to figure out what worked best for my body. Trainer Jill saw me waffling about and sent me a very specific NEW meal plan, to be followed for the next 4 weeks. Same meal plan, every day. Again, I've promised to not share exact details, but let me at least tell you about breakfast . . .

For the past four days, I have eaten a large portion of broccoli, a large portion of green beans, a small portion of hummus, and 6 hard-boiled egg whites. Oh, and my coffee to help me stay sane and to wash it all down. (Now don't get on me about the coffee. I have recently discovered it, and I don't know how I survived the past 10 years without it. Considering that most of my family & friends should have Diet Coke running intravenously in lieu of the 64 oz. mugs, I seriously do not understand the double-standard, but to each his own.) Back to breakfast . . . It was taking me entirely too long to chew up all those green chompy veggies. I felt like the lazy cow in the field, chewing her cud. Mama just doesn't have that kind of time in the morning! So today, I tossed my lightly steamed veggies into the food processor and let it whir away just to the point of chunky, not pureed. I mean, I do still have all my teeth, so I have a little pride. Then I topped the mish-mashed veggies with the hummus, scooped it into the egg whites, and ate it like a very strange devilled egg. Yum. Surprisingly, hummus is delish any time of day. (I was highly dismayed that Costco did not have my fave hummus in stock on Thursday! They ALWAYS have it; until now that my diet depends on it!)

Obviously, I have been tappin' the Beano. I discovered Beano Meltaways, & I'm in heaven-- strawberry-flavored, dissolves in an instant, and you only need one to do the job of 3 regular Beanos. Now I just need to dump them out of the bottle and into a Tic Tacs container and I'm good to go in any public setting. Unless the kids see it and start nagging for a Tic Tac and curious store and restaurant patrons wonder why I'm yelling, "No, these are MINE and they're expensive and I won't share!" Although, on second thought,  my son could really use some . . .

So I'm a few days into this new phase of dieting, and I already look leaner. Admittedly, I was not too keen on it when I saw it on paper. In addition to broccoli for breakfast, it requires me to eat a plethora of spinach, (and not in yummy fruity shakes but in its leafy, stemmy glory), cottage cheese, a food I have to choke down-- it's a texture thing. Bleh. And greek yogurt. In between workouts. I wasn't sure if it would stay down during my Zumba class, but after a couple songs, I felt fine. The problem is I do my own workout before I teach a class, and I was going too long without a meal. So now I'm prepared. Toss an ice pack and my yogurt into a baggie (and a spoon when I'm smart and remember it), and I'm good to go.

Trainer Jill wasn't lying about the cooler thing. I have to keep one on hand, filled with whatever meals I'll need at certain time increments throughout the day. To be unprepared is to fail. Because that's when blood sugars get all out of whack and you go for the nearest edible thing around, eat too much of it, and screw up your blood sugars even more. It's a vicious cycle. Then your mealtimes get all messed up, too, and your macronutrients, and your math, because then you'd have to figure out your proteins, complex carbs, and fats all over again. It may be hard to follow this regimen, but at least the thinking has been done. Am I in the mood for Mexican or Italian? Doesn't matter. It's time for cottage cheese. Should I eat an apple or a banana? Neither. They're not on the menu right now. See? No thinking required. What is required is trust. Trust that my trainer knows best. Trust that my body will respond the way I want it to. Trust in myself, that I have the willpower to not give up on this crazy goal I've set for myself.

It's amazing how, when you take away mindless eating, you have no choice but to face yourself. Face your fears, face your issues, face your self-deceit. I have these moments, when I can almost hear aloud my ego and deeper self arguing. My ego pouts, stomps, kicks, whines, "But I waaaaaaaannnnnnnt it! I want a banana split. I want a bowl of cereal. I want a bag of pita chips. I want a jar of peanut butter!! I want it, damn you, and I deserve it, and it's really not that bad, and it tastes so good, and I just waaaaaaaaannnnnnt it!" And then my deeper self just watches. Observes. Doesn't judge. It asks me what I really want. And then I close the pantry door and walk away. Because what I really want is to reach a goal that requires much sacrifice, time, and patience. In that moment, I won. Too bad it doesn't always end that way. But the deeper self does make sure that it's just one spoonful of peanut butter or just 2 pita chips. It's my deeper self that reminds me, if I slipped a few times today, get back up and do it right tomorrow. Stop wallowing in the mud of regret, guilt, and shame. Because that's when you get so muddy, so entrenched, you decide it's just too hard to get back up.

Some of my fitness class participants were so inspired by my progress and journey that they asked me to put together a challenge for them. A one-month program to empower them to lose the fat or to change their eating & exercise lifestyle. So I initiated my first ever Fat Blast Challenge with Christy. I advertised it for a little over one week. We have almost 40 participants! I really do hope they achieve success and feel empowered with the knowledge they need to change their lives!

Well, my last meal time is calling my name . . . peace out!

I'm a Zumba-Model . . .

Okay, so this sounds like a much bigger accomplishment than it really was. Let me paint you two pictures. One is reality. One is fantasy. I'll let you figure it out.

Story #1: I hear via facebook about auditions for Zumba dancers for the new Zumba game for Playstation and wii. I get all the details, go to the auditions, where hundreds of sexy-adorable Zumba girls from all over Utah are lined up, number in hand, and I await my turn. It finally arrives. I stand in front of a camera; they take my photo, front back, then some video footage. They say, you'll know by tonight. I wait by the phone anxiously all evening. It doesn't ring. I check my messages the next day. Nope. I figure, oh well. Tough competition. But then Monday I get a call. They sent me an email, probably to the worng address-- they need me, they want me! Today! I scramble for a sitter for the kids, try to work out their schedules, throw my veggies and turkey into a cooler, and go. When I arrive, I'm rushed to hair and make-up. Everyone adores me, tells me what an amazing dancer I am, raves about my natural beauty and awesome tan. I see other Zumba dancers I know, and we pow-wow and swap choreo. We high-five and hip-bump and say zumbalicious and we love Beto. We hug good-bye, promise to facebook each other, and return homes to our families, who are of course awaiting to hear about our adventurous day.

Story #2: A production company is not too thrilled with the original cover of the new Zumba video game. They hand the task over to another studio, and I happen to know a guy who works there. He hooks me up with the info, I go audition. It's nice and easy. No one else is there. I see a short list of names of people they've auditioned so far & ask how many they're taking. Oh a couple girls and a guy. They'll let me know by that evening. I don't hear anything, so I figure, oh well. It wasn't inconvenient to audition, so no harm done. But then Monday I get a call. They want me! They need my expertise! Today! I scramble for a sitter for the kids, try to work out their schedules, throw my veggies and turkey into a cooler, and go. When I arrive, I'm introduced to several different people, the camera crew, the hair and make-up, the models. The professional models. The professional, gorgeous, flawless models who have never Zumba'd before. I'm asked to show the models how to do some Zumba moves. Realization hits: I'm not "the looks". I'm "the talent." I get that same heavy feeling in my gut that I felt at Governor's School for the Arts in high school when my faculty advisor recommended that I direct instead of act. Once they see these models dance, though, they ask hair and make-up to get me ready. Now I get to be in the shots, too. Though I'm not sure if they'll actually use these, because I'm not color-coordinated with everyone else. They switch the male model's outfit so he matches me better, and I feel a bit more relieved. They wanted me bare-midriff, and I feel self-conscious about my stretch marks next to these young, dewy-skinned female models with long torsos, petite waists, perky round boobs (real or not, I still want 'em) and abs you could bounce quarters off of. I feel old. And wrinkly. But man, I've got the moves. The director keeps asking the models to move more like me, swish their hair like I'm doing, and follow my lead. When we have breaks, I stop dancing, drink water, call my kids. The models watch themselves in the mirror and a couple nibble on some packaged Nabisco mini-cookies. One model doesn't. She's the one who just competed in the bikini competition on Saturday at Cottonwood Hieghts High School and won for her category. She complains of eating only oatmeal and egg whites, and right now I'm envying her because I wish that were my diet.

Okay, okay. You've guessed by now that story #2 is reality. I want to pause to briefly defend the professional models. Despite their unintentionally making me feel so self-conscious, what with their flat abs, straight white teeth (yes, I'm still wishing my parents had gotten me braces), perfectly-wide-apart eyes, cute caucasian noses, and thick, non-graying heads of hair . . . they were actually quite nice. If I looked like that, I'd watch myself in a mirror every chance I got, too. Hello. The hair and make-up girls were kind enough to feed me the "you don't look old enough to have 3 kids" line. And let's face it, the production crew really did NEED me. But to all my gorgeous Zumba friends . . . I didn't get this spot for being an amazing Zumba dancer (I can immediately think of several who are better than I am within a 20-mile radius). I got it because I had a connection. And I am so grateful for that connection.

Connections. Connections lead to ooportunities. Opportunities lead to adventures. Connections only come when you're willing to let people into your life. When you appreciate people, even if they're not all exactly like you. Even if they don't share your beliefs. Even if they don't match your personality. Even if they don't love sushi, or like to exercise, or read books. This is the way I try to live my life. Some people think that's superficial, that it's best to only have a few close friends who are exactly like you, and everyone else is, well, a waste of your time. Persnally, I like my way better :)

Checkin' Out the Competition

Sorry it's been awhile since I last blogged. Blogging is a diversion activity from cheating. And yes. I have been cheating. Just a bit. Here and there. I still managed to get down to 118.8, but after Mother's Day weekend (yes I treat it as a 3-day holiday, since Father's Day is a 365-day holiday, I figure it's only fair), I'm sure I negated that loss! But I did do something productive this weekend, besides my 7-mile hill run.

On Saturday, I joined my trainer for a little field trip to Cottonwood Heights High School where we joined the 30-some other people in the audience to watch fit, trim, spray-tanned, and bedazzled ladies strike poses on a stage. If you, like myself, are new to this scene, then you'll enjoy my observations of a figure & bodybuilding competition. We arrived a few minutes late, tossing our ten dollar bills at the ticket boy and scuttled in to make sure we hadn't missed the figure category. From the various unique poses on the stage, Jill knew right away they were still on the bikini category.

What surprised me right away were the variety of shapes and sizes up there. Now don't get me wrong, no girl was by any means plump, but some were softer and curvier than others. You had to admire their courage, even if some so apparently looked out of place. Some looked awkward in their poses (slouchy or stiff) or overly made up (wigs, overdone spray tans, eyelash extension, bumpits). Then others looked like pros. They could hold a pose unwaveringly, and their bodies were flawless. I realized with shock that even if I were up on that stage today, I'd blend in pretty well, at least once the spray tan camouflaged my stretch marks and if I sported a blingy bikini. A "bikini" body is one that is trim but not too muscular, curvy without being meaty, thin without being gaunt. In actuality, I may already be too "buff" for bikini.

Unfortunately, I'm not quite there for figure. Definitely need to lose some more body fat. While the bikini girls were allowed to choose their own poses (front, side, back) and strut with some attitude, figure girls have more specific poses, though for the side pose, they get to choose their best side. The figure girls were divided into two categories: short & tall. But Jill said in bigger competitions, there's actually, short, medium, tall. The judges/officials decide what category to put you in, but I'm guessing I would usually end up in the short. While the bikini girls got to wear any kind of bikini they wanted to, figure girls have to wear the blinged out teensy-weensy triangle bikinis. (If you have sewing talents, this is the business to get into, people! $300 for about 1/8 yd of shiny velvet and a handful of fake jewel stones.)

Now, if you really don't want much competition, enter the women's bodybuilding category. Here, there's also short & tall, as well as lightweight and . . . heavyweight? Guess I should've paid more attention, but I knew this category had nothing to do with me, so I didn't take notes. These ladies are the ones who look, well, not like ladies. Their poses are even more specific. An announcer's voice, btw, tells them what poses to do and which direction to face. Then they stand there, sometimes cramping up, sometimes shaking as they flex their muscles as hard as they can for the judges who sit below. It's interesting. These women spent months, maybe years, working for this body, and they only get a few minutes to actually show it and be judged on it. The bodybuilders also get to do a routine in the evening, but we don't stay for that. Again, it doesn't apply to me, though a routine would be fun to watch, at least more interesting than the stiff, precise poses.

Within 30 minutes, it was all done. We didn't stay for the awards, but today I met the girl who won for bikini-- read my next blog entry, it will explain . . .

So what's in it for these girls, is the question.What did they win? As far as I know, a trophy. Self-satisfaction. A sense of achievement. But no money. These regional competitions are for experience, and the more they place in, the better their odds of getting to compete at higher levels, where there are cash prizes and sponsors and all that tangible stuff that says, yes, you are a winner! Which is why the crowd was small and the competition not too fierce.

Sounds like my kind of competition . . . I wouldn't feel bad at all if I placed 2nd out of two :) The question now is, will I do it? I felt pretty confident about it after watching the competition. But then Trainer Jill emailed me my new eating plan . . . broccoli & green beans for breakfast?

I'll keep you posted . . .

Week 1, Phase 2: Not the Best

Stood on the scale this morning. No loss this week. On the bright side, no gain, either. I'm trying not to get too hung up on the number on the scale. My abs are looking more defined than ever, so I know my body is still progressing. But it sucks to not see that number go down when I know I still have fat to lose if I'm going to achieve my goal of a figure body. I want to lose 4.5 more lbs to hit 115. That sounds so crazy-- 115! I haven't weighed that little since high school, but now that I've hit 119.5, it seems so reachable.

I'm struggling with Phase 2 of my eating program. Instead of getting all my complex carbs with breakfast, they're now spread throughout the day. I should be excited about this, but it's not so easy. Instead of getting my nice, hefty filling bowl of oatmeal every morning, I get a bite of bread here, a pita chip there. It's just enough to get me wanting more, but then bam, hit my limit. No carbs for you! (you gotta say it like the Soup Nazi) It's a torturous tease.

Needless to say, I cheated at least once every day this week. By cheating, I mean I ate a handful of almonds when it wasn't a designated meal time and doubled my fat allotment. Or I ate too much fruit or ate it too late in the day. I also made the mistake of buying oranges at Costco-- they looked so good. But apparently oranges are super high on the carb list, esp. in the quantity at which I ingest them. Considering that my kids are favoring bananas (and mini-marshmallows, let's be honest) over oranges, and the hubby says they're "too complicated" (because they require slicing or peeling and they're juicy and drippy-- wahh), I'm the only one in the house who'll eat them. And I have tons left-- blasted buying in bulk. I tried bringing them to a family birthday party, sliced and ready for enjoyment. The hubby said no one would eat them. "Why not?" "Because they're drippy." "So's watermelon. Everyone eats watermelon." "I don't. Too drippy."

I brought them to the party anyway.

I was the only one who ate them.  And bam. Doubled my fruit carb allotment AND broke the "no fruits after meal 2" rule.

Those were the not-so-naughty cheats. Then there were the naughty cheats. And yes, I'm confessing because it is you, my 5 followers, who keep me accountable. Naughty cheat #1 came on Thursday, because that was my official cheat meal day. Which is another part of phase 2 that is difficult; I'd rather keep my cheat meal on the weekend, but now it's every 4 days, which means it's always changing and it typically falls during the week, when I don't really need a cheat. But back to Thursday . . . I needed to find some birthday and Mother's Day gifts, so I went to my friend's boutique store. She had free miniature gourmet cupcakes. They were adorable, and so teeny. Surely one would be okay, since it WAS my cheat meal day. I tried the lemon one. Yum. I continued shopping. Then I wondered what the coconut one tasted like. I absolutely adore coconut. One more teensy-weensy cupcake couldn't hurt too much, right? So, I casually sidled up to the cupcake table. I slowly, daintily savored the coconut cupcake. Mmmmm. I figured Thursday WAS my cardio day, and I had run 4 miles that morning in just 32 minutes. Surely I deserved one more cupcake; I had to taste the chocolate-chocolate chip one. Yes, people, I ate all 3 flavors!

Naughty cheat #2 & 3 I blame entirely on the social situation in which I was placed. Friday night, our lovely neighbors invited us over for a bbq dinner and s'mores. I did just dandy with dinner-- chicken breast, one slice of watermelon, and lots of salad, no dressing. Who ever thought plain salad greens could taste so good? But they really do now! I knew the s'mores would be a temptation. I have a thing for fire-tanned marshmallows . . . I meant to just allow myself one marshmallow. But when Kelly handed me her half-eaten s'more, marshmallow spilling out the sides (they made them with striped fudge cookies instead of Hershey's bars and graham crackers), I couldn't let it go to waste.

Saturday night was a big family birthday celebration. Again, I survived the finger foods for the most part, though I did have a few tortilla chips with my sis-in-law's homemade mango-avocado salsa. But then out came the Costco cake, ice cream, and drum roll . . . BYU Creamery mint-chocolate brownies. I had already told myself I wouldn't get cake, I'd just have one bite of whatever my youngest left on her plate. Let's just say, it was one very large bite. Even if I could have resisted cake, I could not resist tasting the brownies.

It was a rough weekend, folks . . . and so now we see why the number on my scale did not budge this week. This week when I read The Very Hungry Caterpillar to my little girl, I realized I was the caterpillar. All week, he ate fruits and veggies. And then the weekend came, and he ate his way through all sorts of goodies until he had a stomachache. Then he ate through one green leaf, and felt much better. Today is my green leaf day. I'm debating on if I should continue with phase 2 as is & just try harder, or if I need to make some adjustments so that I'm not caving in so easily to cheats. I did much better with 6 meals than 5, and much better with all my complex carbs in the morning. Today I'm feeling more like the big, fat caterpillar instead of the be-a-u-tiful butterfly. Maybe I need two weeks in a cocoon!

On a positive note, my re-vamped strength training program is going well. My triceps and abs were especially feeling it this week. I need to figure out how to isolate my glutes more-- it's so hard for me to get them sore. I can squat and lunge all day, and I'm still not sore the next day. I tried to lay off the inner thighs, but I was craving running this week. I got in 4 miles on Thursday, 3 on Saturday, plus elliptical since the stairmill was occupied, and I can tell the running is bulking my adductors. How do I get my running fix and keep my inner thighs slim at the same time? That is the question. I welcome advice.

And encouragement. Keep it comin'-- as you can tell, I need all I can get! This weekend, I plan to go watch an NGA Figure & Bodybuilding competition with my trainer. I figure this will either give me the push I need to work harder, or let me know that I'm in way over my head!

This week, I'm starting some coaching of my own-- gonna help my class participants and anyone interested to lose some body fat in the month of May. This should also help me do better this week, because I hate not practicing what I preach! We can do this, we can do this, we can do this . . .