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People, I used to haaaaaaaaaaaaate Brussels sprouts. My mom always prepared them by boiling the crap out of them until they became off-white lumps of mush and smelled like bad morning breath mixed with dirt. I believe – and my mom can probably back me up – that I never once at a Brussels sprout while living under my parents’ roof. Read the rest of this entry »
I stepped on the scale this morning and saw a number I haven’t seen since college: 120. Part of me felt pretty great about it, because I’m not very good at being able to see weight-gain or weight-loss in the mirror. It’s too gradual, and I’m too blonde.
(I know this is a repeat image, but I chose it because it's the first picture I've seen of myself since I started training where I can TELL that I'm smaller than I used to be.)
On the other hand, though, I still feel a bit dissatisfied with the state of my bod. There are still some areas I’d loooove to change. So this is a big lesson for me: the number on the scale is only part of the story. More important than your poundage is how you feel in your own skin. I know lots of women don’t weigh themselves at all, and I applaud that. I’m too good at convincing myself that my clothes still fit when I’m stuffing myself into them with a crowbar, though, so I have found the scale to be a useful tool in tracking my progress.
I believe that weighing oneself is a personal decision that takes a lot of introspection and insight. A scale can be a slippery slope if you’re the type to get obsessive and start flagellating yourself when you gain a pound after an indulgent weekend. But it can also be a quick way to keep yourself on track if you’re able to maintain a healthy perspective on your body and your fitness. There have been times during the past few months where I’ve intentionally stayed off the scale. I knew I had probably gained a couple of pounds and I didn’t want to feel guilt and anxiety (which can lead to unhealthy behavior) over it. During those times, it was easier to just concentrate on having a good workout and making sure that I was giving my body exactly what it needed, food-wise.
Although I’ve always been pretty active, the big turning point for me in losing the extra weight has been changing my diet.
…that might be an overstatement. There are probably greener salads in existence.
Anyway. As we move into warmer months and suddenly salads sound appetizing again, I thought I’d share my most recent concoction with you people. This was the result of opening my refrigerator to discover a teeny tiny amount of lettuce and some random produce leftover from recipes I made earlier in the week. And it was, in a word, incredible.
First things first: the ingreeds.
Good news today! I hopped on the scale this morning and I officially reached my off-season weight of 126 (that’s what I used to weigh between swim and water polo seasons). I haven’t weighed that little since college! For the past year, I’ve been yo-yoing between about 129 and 136 pounds. I can really see the changes in my face, plus my more lardy areas have started to disappear. Halleluja! All of the working out has been a major factor, but I can also tell that the changes to my diet have had a HUGE impact on my body. Basically, I only eat when I feel hungry, and I stop when I’m full. It sounds simple, but you’d be surprised how much you eat when you’re sitting there in front of the t.v., mindlessly chowing down on cereal and chips.
I decided to take my rest day yesterday because I knew we had some amazing weather in store and I’d rather work out tomorrow in the sun. So that was Day 45. I did walk a lot, though! Dave and I went to a tux shop and found his tuxedo for the wedding! He looks so gorge. I love him.
So today’s workout was a 4-mile run. The weather was incredible – sunny and 60, with a light breeze. I had my man with me, too. My legs were feeling sore and tight (not sure why, since I feel like I haven’t worked out that much this week), but then I started honking at all of the geese we passed and they were honking back, so I forgot about my legs. It kicked ass. I felt like Dr. Friggin’ Doolittle.
I was supposed to strength train afterward…but…the couch sucked me in and there was no escaping until Dave and I left for a wedding registry spree (that alone should count as strength training, actually. Did you know that there are 40 different shades of blue towels?). Anyway, I’m going to do my strength training tomorrow before I do my cross-training. So…pretty boring workouts for the past two days. But I’ve got a big fun one in store for tomorrow. Just you wait. It will knock your effing socks off.
(p.s. Do you love this picture? My dad took it with his cell phone. THAT’s how good he is at photography.)
When it comes to making soup, it’s time to shizz or get off the pot. Warm weather is just around the corner, so pretty soon we’ll be in full-blown salad season and delicious soups like the one I’m about to show you will be but a distant, faded memory.
Okay, scratch that. This crap is so good you’ll probably make it this summer and then sit there at your dining table, torn between your aversion to pitting out and your overwhelming desire to inhale the contents of the bowl before you.
Just before my birthday, Molly caught me lusting over her adorable little tea set. You can imagine my delight when she surprised me with one of my very own on my Big Day. I was never one of those little girls who had fake tea parties with her stuffed animals and imaginary friends, so I guess my newfound obsession with all things tea-related is a latent instinct from my childhood.
Isn't it so CUTE?! Don't you want to force your friends to come over and make them watch you pour them tea and then make them clink cups with you and drink with their pinkies sticking up?!
The tea Molly brought is called Provence Vanilla Rooibos (or something like that; the handwriting is hard to read) from a shop in Seattle called Teacup. And holy mother, let me tell you about how good it is. Even my stuffed-up, useless nose can tell that the whole condo smells like honey and vanilla and flowers. (Isn’t it funny how when you’re congested, you can only smell certain scents? For me, it’s been this tea and the fresh mildew on my shower curtain – which I promptly cleaned with bleach that I couldn’t smell for the life of me.)
When I first decided to try my little trick of drinking a cup of tea when I feel hungry – just to make sure that I’m not craving food out of stress or boredom – I was a little worried that I’d feel like I was depriving myself. And, yeah, when I threw my musty bag of Lipton into the mug that I’d just zapped in the microwave, I did think, “Man, this is just NOT as good as the burger I’m craving right now.”
But how can you feel deprived when you get to play with this?!?!
Something about the ritual (okay, I feel weird calling it that, but that’s what it is) of boiling the water, preparing my little tea thingy, pouring the water over it into my cup, and then squeezing just the right amount of honey…it’s definitely worth the extra 90 seconds or so. And I don’t feel deprived in the least. On the contrary, I feel pretty damn decadent. “Look at me! I’m so classy!” I think, while I let a HUGE belch rip and then laugh because it sounded like a bullfrog.
More often than not, my hunger is gone and I’m back to sitting at my computer, pretending to be a grownup.
Oh! And I guess you can order this flavor online!! Here’s the descriptsh:
Blended with not only the famous red leaf from South Africa and vanilla, but touches of lavender and chamomile and just a hint of hazelnut. We think you’ll find this the smoothest, most pleasing cup of rooibus tea you have ever had. A Teacup special, dedicated to all our customers that take the time to let us know what they are looking for.
I mean, yeah, it’s 36 bucks a pound, but a little goes a LOOOOONG way – I have eight ounces of the shizz and so far I’d estimate that I’ve had about 30 cups without even going through half of the bag. (Yes, that’s a LOT of tea but I’m SICK so cut me some SLACK.)
We’ll consider this a prologue to the series of posts I plan on writing about how I went from this:
Actually, this is better than I currently look because I've since gained 7 friggin pounds.
…to this:
That's me on the right, just before my last race of my swimming career in 2006. Can you believe that I hated my body back then? Gah, Wiggs. Figure it out.
I’m not there yet (clearly). But I figure that by writing this prologue, in which I outline my plan of attack, I’ll have more success staying committed to what I’m doing.
I first heard about this on The Girls Next Door (which is a GREAT show to watch if you want to have a healthy body-image…nothing like a bunch of trussed-up bimbos with nothing better to do than perfect their tans and get boob jobs). One of them – I believe it was Kendra Wilkinson – said something along the lines of: “The sleep diet is easy! Every time you feel hungry, just go to sleep for a while, and then when you wake up, you won’t be hungry anymore!” That show is amazing. You can’t make this stuff up.
A guaranteed way to get me to sleep is to feed me...this is me after my second Thanksgiving dinner this year. Note the double-chin that grew between meals 1 and 2.
So it turns out, though, that the Sleep Diet is actually a real thing, with some convincing-sounding and hard-to-pronounce scientific theory to back it up. Read the rest of this entry »
Oh man you guys, my mom made me the most delicious breakfast this morning.
Don't drool on your keyboard, please
She made semolina breakfast cake and put fresh strawberries over it. The semolina cake was delicious – very moist and light with just a touch of sweetness. To make it, dump 4 cups of milk into a pan over medium heat. As soon as the milk starts to steam, add 4.5 ounces of semolina flour in a thin stream, stirring constantly. Then add 6 tablespoons of sugar. Keep stirring for 10 minutes while brainstorming the title of your next book with your daughter, then pour into an oiled 8×8 pan and shove it in the oven at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes (until it’s firm and the top is golden-brown). While it’s baking, realize that your daughter is a genius because she came up with an AMAZING book title and tell her she TOTALLY deserves the wedding shoes you gave her yesterday.
When the cake is done, cut it into 2″ by 2″ squares. Can be served hot or cold. Best enjoyed while a doberman watches you eat.
My baby brother, Barkis
REMINDER! Don’t forget to enter The Beholder’s first contest! Leave a comment at this post and you’ll win a chance to have a character named after you (even if your name is Ongina LaDouche) in bestselling author Susan Wiggs’s next book.
Also, a mini-update on my half-marathon training: I’ll get all of my workouts in this week, but just in a different order. Today will be my cross-training day (instead of tomorrow). And I have HUGE plans for this workout, so make sure you check back. I’m bringing my mom’s nice camera with me and it will BLOW YOUR MIND. (I threaten to blow your mind a lot here on The Beholder. You’re welcome.)
I believe that everyone should have one delicious soup that they know how to make by heart. And while chicken soup and minestrone are yum, I like the idea of serving people a soup they’ve never had before…a soup that will make them think that you’re a genius, a soup that will inspire them to throw gobs of money at you and give you a free spa vacation retreat. A soup like the following.
This recipe is adapted from one in The Ultimate Soup Bible by Anne Sheasby. My Dave gave it to me last Christmas and so far it’s my fave from the book.
See the snow in the background?!
The book calls it Grandfather’s Soup, which always leaves me wondering if there has ever been a grandfather in the history of time who knew how to make soup. I mean, that’s grandma territory, right? Still, I like the name because it sounds like there’s a story behind it. A story that you could easily make up and use to impress someone who’s eating the soup.
Click here to keep reading this friggin awesome recipe RIGHTNOW!!!
