Interesting. I hadn't given an update since I started my "new" weight loss plan that involves self-bribery. I am apparently extrinsically motivated. Who knew?

I started on May 1 with a weight of 195.6 (the weight I seem to have been stuck at for months and months now). I did much better about my eating for the week, while doing so-so at the working out (I did manage at least a brief workout five of the seven days that week). Lo and behold: one week later (May 8) my weight was 193. A 2.6 lb drop earned me (at $3 per lb) $7.80. The working out is what really adds up; five days of working out (only one of which was a two-workout day, sadly) earned me another $16, for a total for the week of $23.80. Whatever money I earn for myself I will just set aside for what I hope will be a killer shopping spree for all new clothes when school starts in August.

Anyway, this week hasn't been quite so stellar, although I still have a few days left. We've done more eating out than we should, and my weigh-ins have really fluctuated, with a high one morning of 194.2 and a low a two mornings later of 191.6. This morning it was 192.2. That still gives me a net loss for the week. Hopefully I can shed a little more between now and Thursday. The problem this week has been work--I've been grading rough drafts of research papers, and they've been...well...rough. I'll fully admit: I didn't spend nearly enough time working on the paper with this group of freshmen, and they aren't self-motivated enough to look up some of this stuff themselves. Of course, they should already know it; there's no reason any kid should make it to 9th grade without having had some exposure to research methods, notetaking, outlining, and citing sources. This may make the final papers, which get turned in later this week, pretty sketchy. We'll see. Anyway, the rough drafts have gone slowly enough that I've been getting up early in the morning and using my workout time to grade papers, and I'm still not done. I'll have to get the last ones done today for sure, because I need to hand them back to the girls this afternoon. Keep your fingers crossed on that one.

So, the weight loss is progressing, although oh so slowly. Hopefully I can drop a little more this week to sweeten the $.

In a sporting world full of jackass superstars, overpaid prima donnas, and thugs constantly getting arrested, it's nice to see a really inspiring act of sportsmanship.

A softball player at Western Oregon University hit a home run with two runners on base in a game against Central Washington University. However, her joy turned to anguish when she blew out her knee rounding first. Suddenly, a really bizarre ruling came to light. If any of her teammates tried to assist her in traveling the bases, she would be called out, and if her coach subbed in a pinch runner, the hit would only count as a single. The poor girl couldn't make the bases on her own. So, what to do?

The Central Washington players didn't hesitate. Two of the girls approached the batter, asked which leg was hurt, and carefully carried her between them around the bases, stopping at each base for her to touch with her foot to make the run count. They said afterwards they weren't thinking about winning or losing the game, only that the girl on the other team had hit a home run and deserved to have it count.

Why can't we have more athletes like this?

OK, so, apparently I don't understand weight loss at all. Yesterday morning's weigh-in after a night of meat debauchery: 195.6 lbs. This morning's weigh-in, after eating reasonably well yesterday AND working out for over an hour: 197.0 lbs. WTF? Not fair. I know, I know, today's weigh-in probably more accurately represents the feeding frenzy from two nights ago, but still. Not fair at all. It's only my second day of the experiment and I'm already in negative numbers, but not the negative numbers I'm supposed to be seeing. Dang it. And I couldn't run this morning because I apparently pulled a hamstring in my excitement yesterday morning, so I had to rely on sit-ups and push-ups, which probably won't help much. Crud.

So, it's the first day of May. I find myself weighing the same as I did the first day (I weighed myself, the 4th) of April: 195.6 lbs. Eek. Actually, I had expected worse; we ate at Texas de Brazil last night, and as I've described before it's somewhat of a meat orgy. So it could have been worse, but still. Obviously, I've made utterly no progress at all in the past few weeks. So I'm trying to regroup (again, I know, it's getting a little silly) and try to figure out a way to motivate myself.

Here's my thinking: from today, there are fifteen weeks until school starts (oh, the horror; there's nothing worse to think about for a teacher who isn't even out of school yet than the fact that school starts in a few months) for the next school year. Here's my idea. Apparently just cheering myself on to lose weight isn't nearly enough to get me going. Maybe I can bribe myself. I've got two separate plans.

Plan one has to do with the actual weight loss. Each pound I lose will be worth some dollar amount ($3 is what I'm thinking of so far; $1 seems too small and $5 seems a bit much, at least it did when I first started thinking about this, but maybe $5 might be more motivation!). The money I accumulate over the summer will go towards buy the new clothes that I'll hopefully need for next school year.

Plan two has to do with the exercise. Each day I workout will also be worth money. The first day is worth only $1, the second day $2, the third $3, and so on. If I were to work out for seven days in a row, it would be worth $28 (and maybe I might reward myself by rounding it up to $30). I might even consider adding a dollar to each day that I work out twice. I don't know; I haven't ironed out all the details.

Now, I haven't quite decided what to do about any possible weight GAIN I might run across. Maybe if I end a week with a weight gain, obviously I wouldn't get any money from the weight loss, but I could possibly penalize myself by removing half the money I earned from working out. Hmm.

Ultimately any money I get from all this would go towards the clothes shopping I will hopefully need to do at the end of the summer to prepare for the start of the new school year.

Any suggestions as to how I can fine tune this plan? The good news is I've started out well; I managed to run this morning, despite every urge to the contrary.

You'd think with my super-reliable alarm clock there would be no question of my getting up at 4:00 a.m. to run, right? I have a pretty determined, furry, 23 lb alarm clock who does not like schedule changes. If I get up once at 4:00 a.m., he's pretty sure I should get up all the time at 4:00 a.m. Even if I turn off my regular, electrically-powered alarm clock, the fuzzy black one will be at the side of the bed within just a few minutes, with his beady little eyes glaring reproachfully. He wants OUT. Even though he pottied only seven hours ago (and this is the dog who got stuck in the house once for a day and a half WITHOUT having an accident), it is time for his morning constitutional, and he will not be denied.

Oh, I try to deny him, certainly. I tell him to shush. He continues to rustle around. I tell him to shush again. He scratches at the bedroom door (and no, we can't let him have the run of the house all night because his toenails on the hardwood floor drive us crazy, and if you're thinking we should crate him, well, you don't know much about the vocalizations of Shiba Inus). I shush him again, and he jumps on the bed and starts rolling around, kicking and biting at the blankets. Out of sheer kindness to my husband, I finally get up and take the dog out before he wakes up too.

Usually by the time I've shushed the dog as many times as I can, I've killed between 30-45 minutes. At that point, it's close enough to the "other" time I have to get up that I go ahead and get up for good.

The dog is both persistent and consistent. This battle rages every single morning, weekdays, weekends, and holidays. With such an irresistible force, you'd think I'd be lean and mean from all my morning workouts. Nope. Despite my demoniacal conscience, my Jiminy Cricket from hell, I haven't been running nearly as much in the mornings as I should. The most mornings I've done in a week has been three. I think I only ran once last week. Not good. If I can't get into a routine with my running in the morning by the end of May, I may have to give up and go back to mornings at the gym. Meh.

I didn't mention in my last post that we had just arrived home from a kayaking trip. If you read the previous post, you know I have been struggling with a crisis of confidence of late. This kayaking trip was an attempt to regain some of the joy and ease I used to feel on the river.

We went for a three-day weekend to the Nantahala River in North Carolina. The Nanty is a mostly class II river, meaning it's not really a river for true beginners but it isn't particularly difficult either. We spent two days on the river, and the trip was...good. I didn't leap for joy after I got off the river and shout, "I'M BACK!" but I had fun, which I haven't really had for the past few trips. The first day I was particularly tentative, pretty much just floating the river with a few minor course corrections. I felt uncomfortable in my boat and had to get out a few times to stretch. Part of it was certainly the weight issues I've been struggling with--I'm about ten pounds above the recommended upper range for the boat I've been using. But I'm sure a lot of it was simply tenseness on my part. I did loosen up throughout the day, enough to be willing to run the class III "Nantahala Falls" rapid at the end of the river. It wasn't the best run I've ever made, and I flipped at the bottom of the rapid. My husband afterwards admitted that he firmly believed I needed to flip (and of course hit my roll). Well, he got his wish. However, it wasn't the instinctive roll that I've had in the past. When a kayaker is completely comfortable and confident, he or she won't really even think about the steps it takes to roll a kayak back over again; the muscles simply take over. My roll obviously had lost this muscle memory, so I had to think about it. I set up the first time and felt the water pull at my paddle as if it were trying to pull it from my hands. I tucked my paddle back against the boat for a few seconds before I set up again. Then I counted to three, sort of psyching myself up (or out) for the actual attempt. But this time, unlike the last few times I've flipped over, the roll attempt worked, just like it should have. I was somewhat surprised, honestly.

Anyway, I made it back up. That right there was an improvement. As I said before, I didn't exactly clap my hands together and say, "Well, I guess I'm back to normal." The next day we put on the river with another paddler from the Memphis area, a guy who's a little newer to the sport. He's got a great roll (I envy it), but he'd never done the Nantahala before. I was slightly more adventurous on day 2, hitting more eddies and trying more moves that the day before, but I still didn't venture particularly close to the edge of my comfort zone. Again, when we got to the Falls at the end, I felt at least confident enough to run it. This time, I ran it upright. Still not the prettiest run I've made, but better than the last time. This second run made me feel better about my ability to run a rapid, the previous run when I flipped made me feel a little better about my ability to roll, and those are the two things I've been struggling with.

So, after two days on the river, I can say that, well, I'm still not close to 100%, but I do feel better. Of course, now we aren't going to have a chance to get to any river again for a few weeks. The next few weekends we'll either be out of town on family trips or I'll be working hard grading papers and preparing for the end of the school year. Hopefully the confidence I've gained will not ebb before I can get back in my boat, and hopefully I can drop a few pounds before that time arrives.

I miss my mom.

Today is the one-year anniversary of the death of my mother. I honestly don't believe there has been a single day since then that I have not thought of her. I'm constantly hearing or seeing things that trigger the thought, "Oh, I should tell Mom about this" or "Mom would love this". Many times things have happened during the day that I've wished I could talk to her about. I miss the sound of her voice on the long answering machine messages she used to leave (she'd always say, "I was just calling to say hi" and then leave a message that would inevitably get cut off by the machine because it had exceeded the time limit). I miss the confetti that used to fall out of every piece of mail she'd send me (when my husband and I got married we had gold confetti on the tables at the reception--little hearts and angels--and Mom must have swept every single bit into a bag or something, because for the seven years we were married before Mom passed away she'd put a couple bits into the envelops or tucked into the wrapping paper of whatever she'd sent us). Not long ago my father sent me an envelop with a few things, and wrapped in some tissue paper along with one of my mother's opal rings were a few pieces of confetti. I wept. Hindsight is always 20-20, and if I had known that the day she went into surgery (April 19, 2007) would be the last day I would talk to her, I would have let her know what a wonderful mother she was, and how proud I was to be her daughter. I like to think that she knows that anyway.

But boy do I miss my mom.

Remember Virginia Tech.

OK, so a funny (funny "huh?", not funny "ha ha") thing happened to me on the way to becoming a better kayaker: I got worse.

Not worse as in my skills have diminished, but I've lost two very important things to a kayaker (not my boat and my paddle): my confidence in my ability to run a rapid successfully, and confidence in my ability to roll back up if I DON'T run a rapid successfully.

I can't really explain why this has happened. It happened once before, back when my roll wasn't nearly as consistent as it has been (until recently, of course). I had two successive bad days on an easy river I had always enjoyed, swimming several times. I got some bumps and bruises, but more importantly, I got a really bad feeling of being out of control and not being able to do anything to help myself. For some reason, it really had an effect on my kayaking. I spent about a full year paddling very timidly, not willing to push myself or to try any moves or skills that might up my risk of flipping. If I did flip, I might try a halfhearted roll attempt, but it was pretty much a guarantee that I would swim. It wasn't until a weekend the next summer where we went back to the same river with a group of beginners that I suddenly snapped out of my malaise. Instead of worrying about my own paddling abilities and the likelihood I had of flipping over, I had a bunch of "newbies" who were swimming left and right or frantically paddling down the small rapids like baby ducklings behind me as I led them to safety down the easiest line possible. A we went along on that river and on another familiar river the next day, I realized that the newbies who were clinging to my stern down the rapids were NOT swimming. That more than anything gave me some confidence in my line-picking abilities. My new river running confidence and some roll practice on very small rivers with current helped tremendously, and I finally got enough courage in my abilities back to start trying the class III Ocoee.

From then until my spring paddling experiences this year, I haven't had any problems. Until about two months ago I hadn't had any swims in, gosh, maybe a about a year? And I hadn't had any real trouble with my roll--I've never had a flip-free run on the Ocoee, but it's never really surprised or shaken me when I've flipped. Then came a trip on the Locust Fork of the Warrior River in Alabama, about two months ago. This was the third time I've paddled that river, and I've always had a great time. I felt good, but I had a surprise swim in the middle of a class II rapid. I flipped and then tried three times to roll back up. The first time, I hit a rock that sent me back over when I was about three-quarters up out of the water. When I tried the second time, I brought my head up early, a cardinal sin in eskimo rolling that is guaranteed to drop you back in the water. The third attempt brought me up just as a curling wave slapped me in the face and prevented my getting any air. I abandoned the attempt and bailed out. I was shocked and a bit disappointed in myself. Later in the day, I had two more combat rolls. Neither was in a particularly rough place, but neither time did I successfully right myself on the first try. I left the river puzzled about my sudden difficulties.

About two weeks later we went up to the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee for an annual event called Creek Week. There are numerous rivers and creeks in the area, giving paddlers of just about every ability level (except perhaps people who've never been on moving water before) choices to go run. The first day I went with a large group on a class II-III river with more technical rapids (meaning they required more moves back and forth to avoid hazards) than any river I had previously run. I had a pretty good day overall, but I found myself not enjoying the river as much as I normally would. I started doubting my abilities to navigate the rapids successfully. I began viewing each new rock as an opportunity to flip over and find out how shallow and rocky the bottom really was. I stopped looking all the way down the rapids for the best possible route and started only looking at the water immediately in front of me for obstacles to avoid. I got intimidated, and started wondering how much it was going to suck to take a swim. So I pretty much set myself up to do just that, which I did, about halfway through the trip. I tried a few roll attempts, shanked them all (there were a few obstacles that affected the attempts, but that still isn't a particularly good excuse), and punched out. I'm probably lucky I only had one swim. The next day we went to a different, easier river, and I ended up not even running the whole thing because we had a newbie who had multiple swims and required hiking out back to the put-in. I won't lie; one of the reasons I volunteered to escort her rather than continue down the river was because I was nervous about a new river and wondering if I would swim that river as well. The third day I actually opted not to paddle at all, partly out of soreness from my long demanding hike of the day before, and partly out of that same intimidation. I had proven to myself that I couldn't handle creeking and technical water. Therefore I should not try any more of it.

We hadn't paddled since then, despite a few opportunities, and most telling of my new fears of failure, it didn't bother me that we didn't get out there. My husband was angling to run some new rivers, creeks of course since it was spring and the rain-dependent stuff was running, and I was terrified of the thought of running something new. I occasionally suggested some old standbys we'd done before, but they didn't tempt him. So we didn't paddle, and I was secretly glad when the opportunities passed by. Somehow I'd gone from enjoying my hobby to fearing it. Not good, especially for something we've spent so much money and time on.

This past week a group finally committed to going into the Ozarks and running a class II-III creek. I "playfully" voiced as many oppositions as I could: it's too far away, we have to get up too early, it'll be too cold, can't we run something closer, how hard will I have to try, etc. I didn't get my way, and I found myself reluctantly riding along on a trip into banjo country. The trip ended up taking way too long (over 6 hours instead of 4, due to some interesting navigational choices, a small gas tank, and a driver who got lost), and when a few people voiced concerns over whether we had time to run shuttle (get a vehicle down to the take-out so we had a way to get back to our cars after the river), I mentally crossed some fingers. Maybe we'd just give up and go home! I was a little carsick from the windy roads, a lot tired from the early morning wake-up time, and more than a little scared to put on the river. Again, I was already anticipating the beat down I was expecting to get and wondering how many times I was going to flip over. Sure enough, I made it probably less than 300 yards (only into the top part of the second rapid) before disaster struck in the form of one of my fellow boaters suddenly coming out of an eddy right in front of me. I panicked--I'm sure I could've prevented a flip if I'd thought my actions through, but I flinched away from him, which dropped my upstream edge and gave the river the edge of my kayak to grip. It flipped me, right in front of a big rock I had already identified as a major hazard (the current can push you against a large enough rock and pin you there). I made probably the worst roll attempts I've made in a long, long time, and bailed out. As soon as I got to the side of the river, I made up my mind that I wasn't going any further. I was close enough to the cars, and I had a key to our truck, and that was it. I was not going to spend the next ten miles of river swimming every rapid and dragging down the group. Hell with it. So I walked away.

I know everyone I was with was probably really disappointed in me. You know, get back on that horse again, and all that crap. If at first you don't succeed, yadda yadda yadda. I felt justified: it was cold, it was windy, I wasn't "feeling it", and I was ultimately sparing the group from having to shepherd me down the river. The truth is, I hadn't wanted to get on the river in the first place, and I was more than happy to get off it.

So, here's the position I find myself in. I have lost confidence in myself and my abilities. I have started fearing and dreading every kayaking trip. I have ceased having fun. I do NOT want to quit kayaking. This is a hobby I started doing with my husband, and I really like doing this together (well, except for the whole not liking it so much any more). I have made a lot of friends through kayaking that I do not really have much other cause to see and spend time with. I love the scenery and the outdoors. So the question is, what do I do now? How do I get back my confidence? How do I stop focusing on failure? How do I get the fun back?

One friend asked if identifying the causes might help. I really don't know what the causes are. There are been a few things about winter paddling that are different from the summer paddling that I so much enjoy. All the gear that one must wear to stay warm and protected makes me feel claustrophobic and smothered. I had some trouble with this in the depths of my last paddling crisis. I was about 75 lbs overweight back then. It helped to lose weight--my best paddling was after I had lost about 45 lbs. Unfortunately, since then I've put back on 20 of those lbs. Perhaps ramping back up the weight loss attempts will help. Also, summer is just around the corner, and maybe I'll start feeling better about my paddling when I don't have to wear so much gear. I have been wearing hand coverings called pogies to keep my hands warm; they're kind of like mittens that attach around the shaft of the paddle, so your hands are actually on your paddle but covered by something that keeps the wind off. Not as warm as gloves or mitts might be, but you have a better contact with your paddle because you can feel it in your hand. It's possible that they are affecting my roll--I can't feel the air on my knuckles to tell if I'm in the right set up position--I've worn the pogies on the last five rivers I've paddled, and I've swum on three of the five. I bought a playboat last year, and that's the boat I've taken to roll classes to practice with. It's extremely easy to roll, while my river running boat is actually pretty hard to roll. I suppose it's possible I've gotten lazy enough with my roll techniques to "lose" my roll in my river running boat. The group I kayak with had some controversy recently over the efforts of some people to "step up" and get better so they could run more difficult rivers. I got pretty upset by the whole thing. I have this strange issue with believing that I am "required" to do something (for example, I can swim laps for hours, but as soon as someone insists that I do it, like a coach, I don't want to do it anymore). As soon as I perceived that there were people I kayaked with who felt that I NEEDED to become a better boater, I got mad. Maybe I'm regressing just to spite someone. I don't know.

In any case, another suggestion my friend made was to go back to doing stuff that I like, and maybe "step down" for a while. My husband agreed; he said that perhaps going back to rivers I was extremely comfortable on and familiar with and working on fundamentals might be the way to get confidence back in both my rolling skills on the river and my navigational skills. We're planning on heading east this weekend, to the Nantahala and the Ocoee. I don't know of any other Memphis paddlers going kayaking with us that weekend, so I won't have any "performance anxiety" in front of any other people. Hopefully I can spend some time on rivers and find the fun again. I'll let you know how it goes.

Early morning, April 4,
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky.
Free at last!
They took your life,
They could not take your pride.
-U2








Photos from offical website

OK, wanted to show some of the food storage/transportation items that I've recently purchased that will hopefully help me eat better. I have four items, for a total cost of about $35 (not counting shipping; I ordered these from the internet but I've heard that some of them can be purchased at stores like Linens 'N' Things or Bed, Bath, and Beyond). These are things I'll use to take food to work, since I have seen over the years that if I leave food at work, such as a box of crackers or can of nuts in my desk, I will snack and snack until they are gone instead of parceling them out appropriately over time.

Since I'll be eating breakfast early because of my morning workout schedule, I figured I needed encouragement to bring fruit or veggies to snack on in the mid-morning. I needed something big enough to bring a substantial amount of snack food, enough to keep me from getting hungry again before lunch, but still something that I could bring healthy food in.

Meet the Healthy Food Snacker.



Assembled, this looks kind of like a water bottle or thermos. When you unscrew the lid, you'll find a cool little snap-in jar that can hold a 1/2 cup of either small fruits or veggies or some yogurt or dressing to dip said fruits and veggies in. When you take out the little jar, you'll see a little bitty blue ice pack that snaps into the bottom of the jar. The rest of the bottle holds about 2 cups of snacks. I've been bringing veggies and ranch in mine. The little ice pack doesn't stay frozen very long, but it'll keep the stuff inside cool enough to last from home to the gym to work, where I can then put the whole thing in the fridge. Even without putting it in the fridge, everything stays cool enough to consume within a few hours. It even has a little plastic carabiner on the lid if I needed to clip it to a bag.

The next two items I will be using for my lunches--I'll probably just switch them out each day while one gets washed.



There are two different kinds, but both have the snap-in ice packs and removable containers for small portions of whatever. These will be good for sandwiches or salads, fruits, veggies, chips or crackers, whatever. That'll give me enough to make a good solid lunch that should tide me over for several hours. I need to make sure I don't try to pack every inch full of food, though; if I filled one of those little removable containers with M&M's that would probably not be a good thing. I also need to keep the sandwiches reasonable; slathering it with mayonnaise or stacking it high with meat or cheese will defeat the purpose. I should really do salads every day, but I think that will get monotonous really fast.

Last but not least, my afternoon snack.



This little snack holder also has one of those plastic carabiners to clip to a bag or purse. There's a snap-in ice pack as well as a removable divider. Fill the two sides with cubed cheese, small crackers, raisins, or nuts, or take the divider out for larger crackers or big pieces of fruit.

If I can be faithful about using these items and filling them with the appropriate foods (and then drinking my SlimFast shake on the way to the gym in the afternoons), I will hopefully eat better and lose weight as well as take care of the environment by reducing the amount of waste I throw away (plastic bags, etc).

I'm excited. Hopefully I can use these tools the right way.

OK, so I have been a monument to inefficiency and laziness for the past week. It has been Spring Break, and in the grand tradition of people everywhere, I sat on my butt the whole week and did nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Squat.

Well, I take that back. I went all through Guitar Hero II and III and got five-star ratings on every song (on easy and medium; a rock goddess I am most certainly NOT). And I watched such wonderfully mind-expanding movies as Clue and Ratatouille. And I was not entirely sedentary. I did have my hand weights and exercise ball at home, so I did actually work out at least once a day each day, lifting arms, doing squats and lunges, and doing crunches (after I would play a song on Guitar Hero, I required myself to do a set of something before I could return to the game). And I did manage to behave myself on the eating, for the most part (darned Cadbury eggs). So I did not end Spring Break on a horrible weight gain.

However, neither did I end the week on a significant loss. (Nor did I grade any of the papers I should have graded over the week.) I have successfully established that minor physical activity coupled with somewhat moderate eating is not enough for me to drop poundage. *insert shocked look here*

So, I'm trying something new for the next few weeks, hopefully for the entire month of April if it looks like it might have some success.

First of all, since I've done poorly over the months dragging my butt out of bed at 4:00 a.m. to make the long drive to the gym, I'm going to try sleeping in a whole half hour (4:30 instead of 4:00) and running through the neighborhood for at least 30 minutes each morning, then coming home to do crunches on my exercise ball before showering and heading to work. I'm hoping that the extra half hour, coupled with less frantic ablutions after my workout (usually I have to pack up all my toiletries and several outfits to take with me before I leave for the gym, as well as cram breakfast down my throat), might make my morning ritual more of a, well, actual ritual as opposed to something I do once or twice each week.

Now, I started small this morning. Very small. I am not much of a runner under the best and fittest of circumstances (I'd pretty much rather have smoldering bamboo slivers shoved under my nails), and I haven't kept my cardio up very well recently. I walked for five minutes to warm up, then ran for a minute. I repeated that until my 30 minutes were up. My goal is to gradually increase the length of time I can stand to run (those one-minute intervals seemed very long to me!) while decreasing the time I walk in between, until I can run for a full half hour without stopping. Then I can increase the time I run from them (which may mean I will need to start getting up earlier again).

This also may be helpful to me in the long run (ha ha, see what I did there?) when it comes to weight loss. Running is a much more high-impact sport than most of the other cardio I've done, and it seems that the higher impact cardio is more efficient for weight loss.

I will still go to the gym in the afternoons after school, for weightlifting and more cardio. I think weights will also help: more muscle mass=more stuff to burn calories with.

The next thing I'm trying, along with the whole running thing, is food-related. Dinner seems to be the meal of the day that has the biggest impact on my weight. Meals such as burritos and pizza are absolutely devastating to my weight, but it seems to affect my weight more when I eat those things for dinner instead of lunch. I've seen as much as a three-pound swing in my weight due to those foods eaten at dinnertime. Obviously moderation in my portions is a big part of successful weight loss, but along with my attempts at that, I am going to stop eating meals after 5:00 p.m. for a few weeks. In the afternoons I will instead start eating something small (or perhaps drinking a Slim Fast shake) as I leave work (which can be anywhere from 3:45-4:45) to give the energy to survive a gym workout. Then when I get home I will maybe have a small yogurt or a cheese stick, something small and <100 calories. I'm hoping that will be enough to keep my metabolism up in the evenings without my wanting to gnaw on my ankles from hunger.

Now, I know that not eating in the evenings is going to make me hungry. I will need some help on the willpower front. As far as the rest of the day is concerned, I will try to eat a breakfast that is filling enough to keep me going until lunch at 10:45 (I know, what kind of crazy school makes the kids eat lunch so early?). I've bought a nice big box of Shredded Wheat. If I find myself getting hungry earlier, I can bring carrots and dip like I did today (I got a really cool snack container that looks like a thermos but has a small ice pack in it instead and keeps veggies and dip cold)--I ate about a cup of carrot sticks with a little ranch dressing at around 9:15 this morning, and that kept me going. I'll try to stick to sandwiches and salads for lunch, and then bring some fruit or yogurt for a mid-afternoon snack. Then whatever I eat when I leave work, and my evening snack...I really hope this works!

So, here we go with the renewed (again) attempt at weight loss. My goal is 10 lbs in the next eight weeks (that will take me to the end of the school year). I would love to lose more than that, but hopefully 10 will be completely reasonable and will make me happily surprised when I drop more than that. I've got a long way to go, though, to get to my target weight of 150 lbs. Maybe be the end of next school year...

To a teacher, or a student too really, there isn't much more unfair than a snowstorm on a Friday afternoon.

It'd been building up; the newscasters had been hyping the storm for a few days. But it really didn't look like it was ever going to get here. It seemed to dawdle over Arkansas a lot longer than most weather fronts do. I figured it wouldn't even get here until this evening. I half-expected schools and businesses to close for the day anyway, simply from the threat. In the South, the mere possibility of severe weather sends droves of people to the stores to load up on essentials, just in case we're all trapped in our homes for a few hours. But I knew we wouldn't get out of school. Today was the last day of this grading period, so all the teachers were trying to get grades recorded and all the students were grubbing for extra credit. Also, our lower school had Grandparents' Day today, and with all those guests on campus there was no way they were going to cancel anything.

But sure enough, my students returned from their lunch period to inform me that it had started to snow. It was pretty light, more tiny ice crystals than actual flakes, and snowing with no real enthusiasm for the job. At first it didn't even stick but rather blew around in big swirls. The girls kept asking if I thought there was any chance we'd get out early. I felt it was unlikely; in the six years I've taught at the school I think we've had something like three snow days. And sending kids home early is logistically much more difficult than canceling school early in the morning before the students arrive. Not all our kids drive themselves, not all our parents can change their schedules that quickly to come collect their children, and we have no school-provided transportation available. So I told the kids to strap themselves in and deal with it.

But by golly after a while it started to stick, first on the playground wood chips, then on the grass. Apparently the powers-that-be decided that sticking on the pavement would come next, because an announcement came over the loudspeaker at about 2:25, just at the beginning of the last class of the day, announcing that the seniors were released (our 12th-graders receive a number of privileges that come with seniority). After they had cleared the hallway (it took all of maybe three minutes), a second announcement released the sophomores (our juniors were off-campus at a retreat and had apparently already been released), and a final announcement at about 2:35 released the freshmen (I teach 9th grade).

It was entertaining to see the reactions of the freshmen: 1) excited about the rare escape from school (although I was quite gratified to hear more than one student in my last class complain that they were going to miss their favorite class); 2) overjoyed at the chance to run around in the snow; and 3) distressed at the effect the weather might have on their Friday night plans (really, how many parents are going to want to run shuttle for a gaggle of giggling girls to the movie theater in the snow?). These conflicting emotions really highlight how the freshmen are perched between childhood and adulthood.

But, man, somehow getting a forty-minute snow day is like winning $20 in the lottery. It's appreciated, but it had the potential to be so much more.

I wonder what this relapse into winter weather will do to our local flora, after enough warm days to bring out the buds on the trees. The daffodils had started to bloom, and the forsythia bushes were working on some nice flowers. Some of the pear trees had started blossoming too. Oh well. We may not have many flowers this spring. Poor little guys, so easily beguiled.

And this is the greatest video of another video...

This is the greatest video of all time.

As I try to remotivate myself (again...and again...and again...there seems to be a real problem here), I've got a few things that I'm going to try to focus on. Found this article on another blog and thought the points were really interesting.

10 Tips to Change Yourself From a Dedicated Couch-Potato to a Gym Enthusiast

Written by Gretchen Rubin of the Happiness Project.

Exercise helps keep you happy and vital. Studies show that folks who exercise are healthier, cheerier, more energetic, think more clearly, sleep better, and have delayed onset of dementia. What’s more, they get relief from anxiety and mild depression—comparable to medication and therapy.

But of course, no one really disputes the benefit of exercise. The trick is actually DOING IT.

My own favorite activity is reading in bed—preferably, while snacking. It took me a while, but I’ve managed to get myself into the habit of exercising regularly.

These ten strategies helped me stick to my routine:

1. Always exercise on Monday. Starting the week on the right foot makes it easier to stick to your plan.

2. Never skip exercising for two days in a row. You can skip a day, but the next day, you must exercise no matter how inconvenient. This rule dramatically increased the number of times I exercise over the course of a month.

3. Remember, exercise GIVES energy. If you feel too tired to exercise, remember that exercise boosts energy. It took me a long time to notice that I’d drag myself to the gym, work out for forty minutes, and leave feeling far more energetic than when I went in.

4. Any work-out “counts.” Give yourself credit for the least effort. My father, a runner, always said that all he had to do was put on his running shoes and close the door behind him. Why does this work? Because if I know I can quit after five minutes, I get started—and once I start, I usually follow through with my usual routine. Getting out the door is by FAR the toughest part.

5. You don’t have to shower. One problem—mostly for women—is that taking a shower can take too much time. Look for exercise like strength-training, yoga, or walking, that don’t make you sweaty.

6. Throw money at the problem. Spend more to go to a more convenient gym, or to get an iPod, or to work with a trainer. Exercise pays off BIG in your quality of life, so this is a place to splurge.

7. Don’t set the bar too high. I have a friend who thinks it’s not worth exercising unless she’s training for a marathon – and so she never exercises. She’d be better off going for a one-mile run five times a week.

8. Don’t kid yourself. Belonging to a gym doesn’t mean that you go to the gym. Having been in good shape in college doesn’t mean you’re in good shape today. Be honest about what your habits really are now.

9. You have time. Just take a twenty-minute walk. If you can’t do more, do that! Just a twenty-minute walk will really pay off.

10. Exercise for SANITY not VANITY. I find it more motivating to think about the fact that exercise is going to make me feel happier, calmer, and more energetic, right now, rather than to think about vaguer long-term benefits, like strengthened immunity or longer life. It’s not clear that exercise has much impact on weight loss, so don’t be give up when the pounds don’t fall off. It’s worth doing for so many other reasons.

If you want to visit the original blog, here's the link: Life Remix.

I was Stumbling through the Internet and tripped upon a series of photos so horrific I must show them here, to freak people out as much as I'm freaked. I've seen these pics before, but I wandered across them again and will probably have nightmares because of them.

Allow me to preface this by saying that I HATE BUGS. I include spiders in the category. I'm not a female typically given to the screaming meemies very often, but bugs will do it to me almost every time. Oh, not every bug; I really like lightning bugs, and lady bugs, and even itty bitty sugar ants are pretty inoffensive.

It's the "icky" bugs I don't like. Anything that stings, bites, pinches...those are the ones I don't like. Well, honey bees are OK. Everything else is out.

I think this all stems from a traumatic incident from my childhood. We lived in northern Arizona, in a pretty rural area. Not too far from our house was a cow field and pond where we would all play. One evening my brother came home from an afternoon of playing with his friends in the field. My brother went and showered, leaving his clothes hanging in the bathroom. A little while later I went into the bathroom. As I walked through the doorway, I thought I saw a big piece of fat rusty-colored yarn laying along the wall. I didn't really notice it again until I went to walk OUT of the bathroom, and noticed the yarn was WALKING TOWARDS ME. This is what it was:



This had apparently been ON my brother's clothing, and had dropped to the floor while he was showering. Let me say that again: it was ON MY BROTHER. Oh dear God.

Needless to say, there was some screaming and leaping into the sink. My brother came running, but he was barefoot. My mom ran to the rescue, but she had sandals on. My dad came in, and when he stepped on the centipede it stuck out from under the front and back of his foot. That might give you an idea of how long the bug was. The horror.

Even worse is the fact that the monster centipede was not alone. At the same time I was sitting in our bathroom sink and screaming, my brother's best friend was sitting at the dinner table at his home when suddenly his mother went crazy, slapping at him and dragging from his chair. She opened the back door and tossed him out, smacking at him frantically. It wasn't until then that they realized she was slapping at the humongous centipede that was crawling up over his shoulder. Let me say that again: it was crawling up OVER HIS SHOULDER. I want to scream just thinking about it.

Anyway, ever since then, I have hated bugs. Really the more legs, the less I like it. So spiders are pretty high on the list of yuckiness.

So imagine my emotions upon seeing this series of photos:







Oh sweet Jesus. I cannot even IMAGINE how I would feel if I came home and saw those legs sticking out from beneath my clock. Heck, I'm looking at my clock now every few minutes just to make sure those legs AREN'T hanging out.

Supposedly this is a huntsman spider, and it's pretty common in places like New Zealand and Australia. All the more reason for me to NEVER go there.

The only entertaining part about these pictures is one of the comments left on the website where I found the photos. It reads, "I woulda removed the clock.. not by taking it off the wall, but by setting my house on fire and never living anywhere near that location ever ever again." I think that's about right. I don't want to live anywhere that has big f*%&$^# spiders like that. It's bad enough I live in the South, where all the bugs bite, sting, and pinch anyway.

OK, I'm headed to bed. May as well take some NyQuil to try and stave off the nightmares. Urk.

So, I've had a day to think about the Knight Rider movie that was on this past weekend. I was an avid fan of the original TV show (didn't we late 70's-early 80's kids have the COOLEST TV shows ever?) with The Hoff. Nothing was more awesome than that Trans Am, by golly. I even got to sit in it at Universal Studios. Way cool.

Anyway, the new version is...interesting. Probably a bit better handled than the other recent remakes of 80's TV. Don't get me wrong; I really like the new Battlestar: Galactica, but it's a whole different animal than the original. Much more serious; not nearly as much lighthearted humor. Very dark. A kickass show, but very different. And I did watch a few episodes of the ill-fated Bionic Woman. I actually kind of liked it, but again, much darker than the original. Don't know why it didn't make it. Haven't seen the Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, but I've heard it's pretty good.

So I watched Knight Rider with baited breath. Could I accept that the new KITT was a Ford Mustang and not a Pontiac Trans Am?






HELL YES I could, just as well as I handled Bumblebee as a Chevy Camaro instead of a Volkswagon Bug in Transformers.






Sure, I was a little taken-aback at first; I mean, how could they mess with the original? But then I watched the show. Damn, if that Mustang isn't SWEET. I mean, DAMN. And how cool is the indestructibility of the car? Pretty freakin' awesome--in the original show, it was a special coating on the car; in the new version, it's nanotechnology at its finest.

Oh sure, it's all about product placement. I know Ford paid big bucks to get KITT into the family, just as GM paid handsomely to get all the Autobots to be GM products (and did you notice that Barricade, the evil Decepticon police car, was a Ford Mustang? Ha ha, GM people, funny!).

But the Knight Rider of new is better-connected to the Knight Rider of old. Essentially, after 25 years, the FLAG Foundation arm of Knight Industries is reorganizing to fight crime and injustice, and conveniently the new driver of KITT (Mike Traceur) is the son of Michael Knight, allowing for a nice cameo for The Hoff at the end of the show.

When do episodes begin airing? Not sure. But I will definitely watch, for now, and hope it develops into a solid show. That car is too freakin' cool to pass up. I want one. And I will park it right next to my Bumblebee Camaro.

I can't help it...I'm addicted to LOL stuff. I love the critters of I Can Has Cheezburger. And I love Star Trek. So what could be better than LOLTrek?

There are times when a battle between two sports teams becomes the most meaningless thing in the world. Last night was one of those times.

During the third period of the Florida Panthers-Buffalo Sabres hockey game, one of the Panthers was knocked to the ground, and as he fell his leg flew up and his skate blade struck the neck of his teammate, Richard Zednik, cutting Zednik's carotid artery. Zednik managed to skate to the bench, leaving a trail of blood.





Zednik was helped off the ice and all the medical personnel in the building rushed to his aid, while his teammates, the opposing players, and the fans stood around in stunned silence for about fifteen minutes. Thankfully, they received the news that Zednik had been stabilized and was being transported to the hospital. The packed crowd in the arena, Buffalo's ice, gave the news a rousing standing ovation. Zednik has since undergone surgery on his neck and is reported to be in stable condition in intensive care.

Despite the posturing, and the rowdiness, and the bantering and insults that often are associated with sports, no true sports fan EVER wants to see a life-threatening injury to a player, no matter how much they might jokingly call for one. I certainly have called for the heads of various athletes over the years, but never have I truly wished for something terrible to happen. The Buffalo fans showed their class by rejoicing over the news that Zednik was being helped. Those are the truest fans of all: those who love the game for the game itself, not for any violence or injuries that might come along with the game.

I am not a Panthers fan, but I am certainly rooting for Richard Zednik today.