You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Biggest Loser 2’ category.

1. I am no longer capable of composing cogent posts, so you’re stuck with bullet pointed lists about crap that goes on here.  Aren’t you lucky?

2. I’m still sick and tired.  I hear it ‘goes away eventually’, but I feel like this may be lies propagated by the right to keep people from realizing how terrible they’re going to feel until it’s ‘too late’ to throw one’s self down the stairs effectively anymore.

3. Please don’t send me hate mail for that last one.  Joke, loves.  Joke.

4. Everything is still a mess and it’s adding to both my stress and anxiety levels exponentially.  I get stressed when things are a disaster, and now, because I’m less than inclined to do anything about it I start getting anxious that That Boy is going to begin thinking I’ve lost all motivation and become the world’s laziest bum.  I feel guilty about coming across as lazy because my Type A, first born, overachieving self cannot handle that perception and then I start getting anxious all over again.  Dear Valium, why can’t you be safe for babies?!

5. I’m also vacillating wildly between thinking this whole thing is awesome (we did (not) try for FIVE years to make it happen) and thinking it’s the end of the entire world.  I hear this is because hormones are eating my rational brain as we speak.  This, I do not like one bit.  I am not an emotional girl.  I cry twice a year, approximately.  I cannot have my rational brain eaten by sob inducing hormones and still maintain my reputation as a cold hearted badass.  Oy.

6. The campaign is still going.  I can’t say it’s going well or not going well, really, because I haven’t been there.  I feel like crap and I’m distracted and I just plain don’t want to be there.  Promises, be damned.  I hear I have a good excuse.  I cannot wander around knocking on doors for hours in the hot sun, because the entire time I will be plotting ways to kill an ice cream truck driver and steal his rocket pops.

7. I kicked Britt’s ass in Biggest Loser Part Deux.  The last month of which I was unknowingly incubating a person.  This makes me kind of a big deal.  I’ve also lost 10 more pounds since I found out I was preggo, 2 of which were in the last 2 weeks.  Thank you very kindly, Mr. and/or Ms. Parasite for your lovely addition to my metabolism.  The making it so I feel like I’m in the hull of a round bottomed boat in the middle of a hurricane without my SeaBands also helps.

8. This wee human wants me to eat gluten.  I’m trying not to indulge it.  Except the other day when I met Britt at Shish and attempted to eat my body weight in pita.  Nom nom nom nom.  That’s certainly not very Gluten Free Ann Arbor of me, but well … mostly I needed a transitory reason to say “Gluten Free Ann Arbor” again and piss off that stupid Yahoo group that thinks it owns those 4 words.  Ha.  Sorry.

9. My back hurts.

10. Oh, and while I’m thinking about it … I got into GRAD SCHOOL!  Yes!  Both programs!  Sweet!  Now, the part where I tell them I can go for a semester and then need to take a hundred years off to care for an infant.  Shit.  World, your timing is impeccable.

Em.

Advertisements

1. We had pizza for dinner tonight.  I made my lovely family a terrific thin crust that they all thought was pretty tasty.  Thinking myself a badass, I also thought I’d try to make GLUTEN free pizza crust from scratch (because the only ‘mix’ I had on hand was my ridiculously over priced but amazing bread mix).  Yea.  About that.  So … take a box of graham crackers and subtract all forms of sweetener.  Then leave them out on the cupboard for a week to get stale.  Slather with pizza toppings and toast the snot out of them in the oven.  They will resemble dust in texture and … well, burnt dust in taste.  Yum.

2.  Some days, I fricking hate being GLUTEN free.  Knowing that I can’t cheat only makes it worse.  F this jazz.

3. I do not hate ice cream.  The local walk up ice cream place (which is far less ‘local’ than I would prefer … stupid living in the country) reopened so we headed down there after dinner tonight.  MmmmmmicecreamIloveyou.  My mother suggested we make it out summer goal to eat everyone of their 24 flavors, excluding the crap “kid ice cream” (superman, cotton candy, etc).  I think this is an admirable cause to take on … except the part where I can’t eat the ones that have cake in them.

4. I want someone to come clean my house so I don’t have to do it.  Mostly, the basement.  And by clean, I mean haul away the crap I already know no longer needs to live here.  Applications and interviews available through the comments section.  Compensation negotiable (by which I mean, largely nonexistant … unless I can pay you in crappy GF pizza).

5. I got a very sweet email today.  It kind of made my day.  The end.

6.  My desk is a disaster.  I am fearful the Department of Desk Safety may come knocking and take my lovely french colonial desk (and by lovely, I mean you can’t even tell it’s partly particle board) to live with a foster family that will love it enough to not pile unending crap on top of it.

7.  I had the shortest employment stint I’ve ever had this week.  I mentioned before that I was offered a job with the US Census.  After 2 days of training (well, one day of training and one day of them pretending we didn’t spend all day screwing off with the fingerprint pad) I was told my job was contingent on me upholding their departmental non-disclosure agreement.  The one that stands in direct conflict with the state law I swore to uphold years ago when I was granted a medic license (Fun fact: I once took 27 credit hours in one semester so I could finish my medical training at the community college while trying to finish my bachelors degree programs at the university.  Indeed, I was a crazy person.).  Yea.  Abdicate my previous responsibility (and sworn personal integrity) for some schmuck job that only lasts 4 weeks?  Not happening, US Census, so sorry.

8.  Other opportunities to fill in the income gap created by giving the Dept of Commerce the proverbial finger have already started appearing.  I couldn’t ask for them to be so speedy.  I’m just here for the ride.

9.  I dropped off my graduate school applications today.  I couldn’t mail them.  Mostly because they were due today and I finished them  yesterday … and because leaving those beauties in the mailbox instead of personally watching them arrive at the admissions office was terrifying me.  Please cross your fingers or knock on wood or cast some awesome sacrifice to your heathen deity for a speedy acceptance letter to arrive in my mailbox.  I will worry myself into a hot mess of heartburn and pacing regardless.

10. It’s still 74 degrees here, even after 10pm.  Please don’t let this be a sign of some bizarrely hot summer where I spend an entire 3 months melting profusely all over town.  We do not air condition our house.  We barely heat it, let alone cool it.  I hate that.  Well, I hate it when it’s hot.  I don’t hate it when the electric bill comes.

11.  Speaking of electric bills, we have hot water again!  The water heater died on Monday, and the replacement arrived today (3 days ahead of schedule! yes!).  I am not so stoked about the hit our savings account took to make that happen, but I am pretty elated that the new water heater uses something like 1/100th of the energy the old one did (that math is completely made up, but I swear, it’s a LOT less energy).  That Boy spent the day installing it.  If I can’t find him later, I think I’ll check the basement.  He’s more than likely sitting there staring at this new machine, drooling and mumbling, “Ooooooh, prettttty.“.

12.  Sometimes, I wish water tasted less like water.

Anything wacky going on in your neck of the woods?  Having a fabulous week?  Tell me about it in the comments.

Em.

This post is linked to Jen’s 7 Quick Take Fridays over at Conversion Diary.  You should go check it out.

I looooooooove trash talking Britt about this challenge.  This is especially true on days like today when she’s eating drive thru french fries and I had salad for two meals.  I have until Memorial Day to lose a higher percentage of body weight than she has or I’m out $50.

$50?!

What the hell was I thinking?

Oh yes, that she’d spent all her time eating chicken wings and homemade bread and pasta and other assorted shit I can’t eat so that I could have a calorie advantage without having to work too hard.

No longer.

After approximately 1 million years of my nagging, she finally got herself tested for GLUTEN issues (a post you should go check out if for no other reason than she’s also giving away Le Creuset … for mentioning which I think garners me an extra entry).  And, of course, she’s all gung ho GLUTEN free.  I get these text messages about GF this and GF that and how she feels so much better blah blah blah blah blah.

This is great.  Honestly, I’m stoked she feels better.

But her not eating bread is going to cost me this frickin’ contest, me thinks.  Not eating the majority of refined carbs was my advantage.  Now she’s not eating them either.

Shit.

Help me out here, friends.  Any new and brilliant ideas you can offer up to give me an advantage?  Ideas that don’t include words like run or jog or work out for 18 straight hours?

I would really hate to lose $50 to a girl that won’t eat lettuce.  Ok, I would really like to not lose $50 regardless, but the sheer number of hours of my life spent chewing on roughage that she hasn’t had to endure would just make it worse.

I’m already pop free and GLUTEN free.  What’s next, loves?

Em.

Hi there.  I’m Em.

(if you’re a regular reader, you’re probably concerned that this is about to turn into the bloggy version of an AA meeting …)

If you’re stumbling here from The Ultimate Blog Party 2010, welcome welcome welcome!  I’d love for you to pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee (or your favorite Irish whiskey … an an Oberon …), and hang out in my little corner of the ever growing blogosphere with me.  But … no one likes to party with a stranger, especially a creepy stranger, so let’s talk facts first.

I’m a 20something.  I started saying 20something when I could no longer say “early 20s”.  I have a whole bunch of quarter life angst about that whole aging thing, and so you’ll have to bear with the non-specifics.  I live in community with my adorable husband (a term that even after the forever we’ve been together makes me both ridiculously joyful and squeamish), my mother, my little brother and little brother’s girlfriend.  We all live in one big old farmhouse like the sandal wearing hippie I am (and they really aren’t …).

Em is not my real name, and I refer to the husband (Ah! Twice in two sentences!) as That Boy … just so you don’t get confused.  That Boy and I have been together just over 9.5 years. The looming decade anniversary makes me nervous … more nervous than 30 … maybe.  We don’t have small people yet, but we wouldn’t necessarily mind some showing up soon (That Boy would not admit to saying that outloud, I’m positive).

I work with high school kids for a living.  They entertain the snot out of me.  I wear sandals from snowmelt to snowfall.  I’m a big fan of sustainable living, recycling (because it saves money and the planet), and real food.  I’m one of those coupon clipping frugal girls, and I spend a lot of the summer pretending to be a farmer.  You should be stoked for all the inane pictures of my little green garden that are coming this summer … brace yourself.  I really like ice cream and complaining about things I don’t like on the internet.  I’m a bit of a perfectionist, and occasionally a little too lazy to do anything about it.

Average Radical started as a place for me to tell the world stories about the (sometimes bizarre, sometimes hilarious) goings on of my life, rant about what’s wrong with the world, and occasionally complain about my on again off again relationship with GLUTEN (booooo).  It’s become a sweet place for me to love on people, talk religion, share the occasional dollar stretching trick or recipe, and trash talk the infamous Britt about our ongoing head to head Battle of the Scales.

I kind of like it here.

I’m hoping you do too.  I’m giddy as a school girl when people hang out and comment, so if you’re digging what you’re reading, I’d love for you to party with me anytime.  I’m game if you are.

Now, back to that Oberon …

Em.

ps,

Did you know the UBP involved prizes?!  I totally didn’t at first.  Yea, I’m that brilliant sometimes.  Anywho, you can check out the full list of prizes on 5 Minutes for Mom.  Not that I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world, but if I were to go about picking winners, I’d love the Toshiba laptop (um, duh, who wouldn’t?!), the NIV 90 Day Bible, the Jillian Michaels Get Fit Pack (oooooh The Shred, how you scare me), or any of the retail store/Amazon gift cards.  Heck, I’d love to win just about anything (I’m not a contest winner historically), but mostly, I’m just happy to party along with the UBP’10.  Thanks again for stopping by!

1. When I have too many things to think about, I number them.  Mostly, I have the brain of a policy debater (don’t know what that is, look here … crazy, right?) and number everything in my head and polite conversation.  Welcome to my brain.

2. I have a lot of things to tell you, bliggity blog-o, but I’m hesitant to be oh so open with you even in this world of constant and complete technological disclosure.  Why? Le sigh.  I don’t frickin’ know.  One part of me thinks, “Well, I say everything else I think, might as well not stop now”.  The other part says, “But, this is some powerful shit that’s different than things you previously said, even contrary in some regards, and … well, what will people think?!”  Ah yes, I really just said that.  Shit sticks.  Tell me bloggy world, what’s a girl to do?  Out herself via interwebs so she can blog without censoring, or keep mum and keep the peace?  Comment as you see fit, please.

3. In the middle of that last point, our 75+ pound rough collie tried very successfully to sit in the middle of my lap.  That Boy is brushing the other dog (a less than brilliant golden retriever), and Mr. Smarty Pants I Should Be Herding Small Farm Creatures knows from the first spritz of the whatever the hell it is you spray on dogs before you brush them, he didn’t want anything to do with being in the vicinity.  Since he doesn’t climb stairs, and as such cannot flee that far, he apparently thinks sitting ON me, literally in the middle of my being, is a solid alternative.  This is exceptionally fun when I’m trying to write for you fine people.  I tried to use him as a table, but the clicking of keys distracts him and he lifts his head to see what’s up, effectively tossing the laptot (yes, tot, not top … it’s a wee little baby lappie) into the back of the couch.  Grrr.  I shake my fist at you, dog.

4. Someone needs to make gluten free oreos that don’t taste like cardboard or garbage, and they need to deliver them to my house post-haste lest I start gnawing off my hand.

5. I just remembered (literally, just now) that I had planned on making upcycled (the hipster name for used to be trash) home goods throughout the winter so I could spend my summer hocking them at the Farmer’s Market.  Oops.  I suppose there are still a couple weeks left.  I should probably get on that, eh?

6. I’m so going to lose the Biggest Loser Round 2.  Sure, I can lose a million pounds at the beginning, but then … nothing.  Who can eat salad and vegetables and not GLUTEN for weeks on end and not lose another stinking pound?  This girl, apparently.  I should probably write my $50 check to Brit right now.

7. I’m tired.  Not tired enough to sleep, though, maybe.  I haven’t tried yet.

Em.

Ah, sweet competition, how I adore thee.  It’s been 2 weeks (well, more like 2.5 … I’m a lazy procrastinating blogger, ok?) since the beginning of Round 2, and I’m still going strong.  By going strong, of course, I mean just eating less garbage than normal and tracking food/caloric content online via SparkPeople. I am not one to stress about weigh-ins, carb counts, or protein/fat ratios.  I just eat less crap and assuming there’s forward progress, call it good enough.  I don’t even know the calorie counts on my foods until I write it down, which is absolutely after I’ve already eaten it.  This means some days are over and some under, and I don’t honestly care either way.

And it works.  I’m down 13 lbs total in 2 weeks.  I’m calm and happy and not miserably sitting around bemoaning the things my calorie counter says I can or cannot eat.  Life is good.  Better than that, I’m in the lead. Oh yes, Britt may have gotten ahead of me in the first week, but no longer.  Last time we did this it took me a solid 3 or 4 weeks to pass her.  I’m pretty stoked about the quicker time frame.  Oh, and about winning, which is what I’ll be doing when this is said and done.  Hells, yes.

I’m also trying really hard to stay GLUTEN FREE, with some pretty solid success.  Yes, I may have eaten ridiculous garlic parmesan alfredo on highly gluten-y bowties this weekend (which, ps, was freakin’ amaaaaa-zing), but other than that … I’m doing pretty well.  Oh, and that oreo cookie.  Yea.  Other than that, I’m a GLUTEN FREE machine.  I hit the GF baking mix clearance motherload last night at the grocery, and although they were way more expensive than I’d like to pay for anything, ever, they were cheap for being good GF brands.  Perhaps if I have GLUTEN FREE cookies in the house, I’ll be less tempted by oreos and less inclined to tantrums when I can’t have them.  Maybe …

Overall, I’m pretty happy with these outcomes.  Even if no one was losing weight, we’re eating better food for sure (which I’ll probably talk more about the specifics of at some point in the future …), the thought of which makes me happier than being skinny.  And, did I mention I’m … uh … winning?!  ‘Cuz that’s bound to make my day every time.

Em.

What’s the first thing you did this fine New Year’s Day?  Was is wake up at 8am and come bolting downstairs to pee off as much of yesterday’s bloat as possible and hop on the scale?

No?!

This fine January day begins Round 2 of the Battle Royale that is the ‘biggest loser’-esque weight loss challenge I’m competing in with a friend (whom shall remain nameless unless she outs herself on her bloggy as well so I can link her …) and new to this second round, my mother.  This is some cuthroat competition.  This round of the challenge goes from New Year’s Day to Memorial Day.  That’s 21 glorious weeks of trash talking, clean eating, and scale watching.  We’ll weigh in every Friday, just like last time when we changed the weigh in day to pre-weekend as to avoid the influence of beer from the weekend on Monday.  On Memorial Day, the person with the highest percentage lost will take the prize (which this round is CASH MONEY! Yes!).  There are no other rules.  No diet plans.  No checkpoints or requirements.  F that jazz.  You do what you do, whatever works for you, and you get on the scale every week.  No questions asked.  If what you’re doing works, you’ll see progress.  If not, change it up and try again.  This laissez-faire approach does not mean we will not needle the hell out of each other with totally unsupportive bantor for the love of fun and competition.

And, for the record, I WON the last round by uh, 4+ percent.  Yea.  I’m a badass.  The problem, of course, is that the last round ended on Thanksgiving and the new one didn’t start until today.  On the one hand, it probably should have started right away to keep us honest through the holidays, but uh … yea, who the hell tries to lose weight while rolling out sugar cookies and two fisting eggnog?  Not I.  Not anyone with any real level of success.  We cut out losses ahead of time and called December a mulligan before we even started last time.  Somehow, at my house, this spiraled into “Eat-As-Much-Garbage-As-You-Possibly-Can-In-31-Short-Days”, and I will confess to being a little terrified this morning of what was going to show up on the trusty scale.  You mean, I didn’t weigh myself for the whole month of December?! Ha, no.  Sure didn’t.  What am I, some kind of masochist?

I closed my eyes while the numbers counted up this morning, not wanting to look at the damage my month long departure from the realities of real food and oh, silly things like, GLUTEN INTOLERANCE may have caused. But, then!

NO CHANGE!

Yes!

YES YES YES YES YES!

Muahahahahaha!  I am all that is …

Ok, let’s not get too excited.  You heard it here first.  My starting weight for Round 2 is the exact same as my final weight from last time, even with an entire month of crap eating in between and what feels like 40 extra pounds of bloated post-holiday gross that I’m carrying around with me.  Yay!

So, what’s the first thing I did after receiving this fabulous news this morning?  Stood in my pantry, decided I was too lazy to make oatmeal, and went with an oatmeal cream pie for breakfast instead.  Yea.  I’m sure going places fast.  Ha.  My ‘New Year’ starts on Monday (and not in that traditional kind of ‘I’ll Start My Diet on Monday .. no, next Monday, no, next Monday’ sort of way) which was decided and announced long before the holidays lest you think me some scandalous slacker.  We’re leaving shortly for a wedding weekend on the East Side and long car rides + hotel food + reception food I can’t control + rehearsal dinners + being 25 minutes from THE BEST PITA ON THE PLANET + having leftover holiday candy in my bag = a really bad way to start a year.  So, I moved it.  To Monday.  I know my limits.

I’ll be back sometime before then to fill you in on my other, not fatty related New Year’s plans.  I’m a wee bit OCD and a habitual list maker, so it should be fun!  Now, time for a frantic shower, last minute packing where I inevitably forget my toothbrush and my Blackberry charger, and then 3+ hours of nail biting terror through the frozen tundra of MI.  Joy! Glorious joy!

Em.

Past Tense

Advertisements