The quest for happy imperfection…

That’s right. My “I am woman, see me shovel!” insanity is finally over. I woke up to two feet overnight, on top of the foot or more I’ve let pile up over the course of the week. It would have taken me almost all day. And it didn’t look like fun. Nevertheless, DH and I began the effort by valiantly shoveling out the Explorer so that he could get to work. Only to get high-centered. (If you try to pull through too much snow, it builds up under the center of your car, packing down the snow and raising your car up. The result? High-centered, where the center of your car is up too high, putting less weight on the tires and causing your tires to just spin in circles without going anywhere… while they laugh at you). Trying to get un-high-centered is one of the most frustrating things in the world.

So when the creepy toothless drunken plow guy said he’d do it for fifty bucks, I took him up on it. There’s a lot of other things I’d rather spend 50 bucks on. But, sacrifices had to be made. He towed the Explorer out and cleared half my driveway. Yeah, that’s right, I paid 50 bucks and the guy only cleared half my driveway. Welcome to the world of weasely plow guys.

Yesterday was pretty good- Sierra and I went out for another long walk yesterday. It was actually a long hour and half trudge through ankle-deep snow, uphill. I’ve decided to go ahead and count each 15 minutes as a mile- so 6 miles yesterday. Afterwards my muscles were totally exhausted all over. It was a quasi-nice feeling. We went with my coworker, her friend, and her dog. She’s in great shape, so she was talking about a nice light workout.  Yeah, my lungs nearly burst. I was the first to cry uncle and  say we should head back. But, I did better than last time. And, most importantly, I did it.

Food has been good. Yesterday and Friday were pretty benign. My crockpot turkey chili took the spotlight. Yum, easy, and healthy. I made chicken kiev last night- one of those ready made things from the deli. Yeah, not good. Not too healthy either. Chicken stuffed with butter? Should have paid more attention to that one before buying! Had that with some mashed potatoes made from red potatoes and some steamed broccoli. I used those ziploc steam bags for the first time- LOVE THEM! Those bad boys rock!

Today was a little more adventurous in the wrong direction. I was watching the Superbowl by myself, since hubby had to work and I didn’t feel like actually getting dressed to go anywhere else.  But, I had to run by the grocery store anyway… and things got a little sketchy. I had been craving hot dogs for awhile, so I picked up the reduced fat Hebrew Nationals, and some whole wheat buns (the only kind they had). So far, not too bad.  Well, then I wandered by the deli section. Got some pasta salad and some boneless chicken wings. Oops! I also bought some frozen eggrolls. Though, they’re only 60 calories a piece.

What I really wanted was some dessert. Something baked and sweet. So I lurked around the bakery section, carefully selecting my future victim. Box of delicious, freshbaked shortbread cookies? No. Too many innocents would die. Fudgy brownies? No, too many bystanders. My bloodlust would be too great.  Single delectable cupcake? No, it looked far too sweet and innocent for such a fate. Aha- the 4×4 square of chocolate cake. Perfect. I stalked my prey silently, sneaking up behind it. It was blissfully unaware of the pending bloodbath until it was in my hands. I could smell its fear, though it’s sprinkles taunted me. Tiny, multicolored circles that cried out “Do it! Do it!” I almost did. But the more I looked at it, the less appetizing it was. The frosting wasn’t real buttercream, the cake looked rather stiff and unforgiving. Certainly not Dutch-process cocoa. It didn’t have the moist appearance the would indicate real cream. It was probably made with regular, bulk sugar, not the finely processed smooth as silk baking sugar. Sigh. I put it down. I wanted chocolate cake, but this wouldn’t fit the bill. It might be okay, but it wasn’t going to be the delectable treat I was hoping for. Ugh. Sometimes I regret this “but only if it’s really good” thing!  I did end up with a very tasty dessert though. I had bananas with a little bit of Mrs. Richardson’s hot fudge and a bit of whipped cream.  I splurged and had two bananas instead of one. Small victories, right?

 Speaking of victories… Well. I did something bad today. I stepped on the scale. I really shouldn’t have. The last time I stepped on, I had gained 2 pounds up to 191 form TOM. TOM is just wrapping up, and so I wasn’t going to weight until next week, y’know, give myself a little bit of time to recover.  The 191 thing really threw me for a loop, another gain could be deadly. Not only did I weigh myself, I waited till almost midday, and I’d already eaten.  So I braced for the worst. Drum roll please… 187.5!!! Can I even tell you how stoked I am? I have lost 9 pounds. That’s one pound away from halfway to my first mini-goal… in like a quarter of the time I have to do it. That’s pretty awesome.

It’s weird… The number is dropping, but I don’t feel like I’m losing weight. Which doesn’t make any sense. I guess it’s because I don’t feel hungry, or deprived, or desperate. I haven’t cut out a single food. I haven’t denied myself anything I really wanted. I’ve been going to the gym, but I haven’t been killing myself or pushing myself to the edge. I’ve missed days and skipped workouts. Instead of 6 hours a week, I’m going 2. And the scale is responding. Responding better and faster than any of my previous weightloss attempts.  I keep getting these pangs of guilt- Ah!  a brownie! No! I missed a workout!  I start feeling desperate, like I need to run to the nearest treadmill and eek out my penance until I feel exhausted, tired, and miserable. I just don’t get it. So far I’ve done a great job at losing weight. Now I guess I just have to work on losing the mental weight that previous dieting has put on me.