Breaking Through The Dreaded Plateau

I know I haven’t blogged in awhile, but rest assured, I have been faithfully following my diet and exercise regime.  Sadly, I had nothing earth shattering to report.  After seven weeks of regular workouts and miserly calorie counting I had lost a solid seven pounds and then got stuck in the dreaded wasteland of diet plateau.  For two whole weeks, my scales did not budge by so much as an ounce!  Well, except for the one pound I gained temporarily after a day of ill-advised carb consumption.  I had even declared a moratorium on red meat, prompted bythe agonizing guilt that I felt from consuming an enormous hamburger at Red Robin over two weeks ago.  I succumbed to the questionable wisdom of most diet promoters (with the obvious exception of the Atkins Diet) and followed their advice to reduce my intake of red meat.   Some diet promoters even say to cut it out completely, and oh what a difference you will see!   Well, my answer to that is horse pucky!!!  After over two weeks of abstinence and attempting to quell my red meat cravings with soy substitutes, I had not shed any weight!  None. Nada.

And while we are on the subject of soy substitutes, let me just say that it is better to just give up red-meat-esque foods or allow yourself the occasional treat of real moo cow, because soy substitutes just don’t cut it!  That’s not to say that I don’t like the Morningstar Spicy Black Bean Burgers.  Those, I like because they don’t even remotely pretend to be a hamburger.  And the Morningstar maple flavored breakfast sausages aren’t too bad, I suspect because the maple flavoring helps to disguise the faux sausage flavor.  But the Grillers?  Puh-leeeeze!!!   This is the most miserable substitute for cow meat ever, with the possible exception of Boca Crumbles.  I tried the Boca Crumbles in spaghetti sauce, foolishly thinking that the spices and tomatoes would disguise the tiny, flavorless pieces of cardboard.  I choked down one serving and had to throw out the rest.   So, I am going to allow myself the occasional splurge of real, mooing cow meat.  In fact I have a date with a Draft House Olive Burger next week and plans for a steak cookout with friends and I am going to enjoy it!  Every juicy, sinful bite!  All the while, working hard to stay within my daily calorie limits, or as close as possible anyway.

But I digress.  Yesterday I was bemoaning my weight loss plateau in my mind as I wiled away my lunch break on my elliptical trainer.  I was angry that all of my faithful exercising and diet deprivation was getting me nowhere and trying to talk myself out of giving up outright.  Although I was sweating and my heart rate was in the appropriate cardio and fat-burning zone, I realized that I wasn’t working all that hard.  My body has gotten accustomed to this workout, like a favorite worn out tee shirt that you like to wear to bed every night.  I realized that I needed to shake things up and work harder.  And what do you know, staring me right there in the face was the up arrow button for increasing my resistance on the elliptical trainer.  Quelle surprise!  There was my answer!  It had been mutely staring me in the face for weeks now and I had ignored it, probably on purpose, for fear of inducing a stroke or at the very least wobbly legs.  But here I was, seven weeks into my workouts and my legs are strong, people!  Strong, I tell you, and pretty muscular to boot.  What the heck was I afraid of?  So, I tentatively increased my resistance to a two.  OK, not bad.  After about five minutes, when I realized that I was not going to topple over dead, I increased it to three and then eventually four.  Ah, now there was that burn in my thighs that I had been missing!  So, I labored on and increased my workout to a full 60 minutes since I was having a slow day at work anyway.  And this morning I was rewarded with a two pound weight loss.  I hope it’s permanent, but just in case, I am going to be jabbing that button up to the highest setting I can stand from now on and going for a full 60 minutes whenever possible.  The plateau has been busted and I remain hopeful that my endeavors will continue to be rewarded.  Of course, that Olive Burger is a reward in and of itself and I am going to work extra hard this week to earn it!

Hot Sand

I had big plans for a beach walk today, I really did.  I had some errands to run this morning and a sick friend to visit in the hospital, but I really had planned on a beach walk – at least three miles.  So what happened?  It got hot, that’s what happened!  I didn’t get to the beach until almost 2:00 PM.  As I was  trudging across the sand, loaded down like an old, decrepit, lumpy pack mule, I found myself  puzzled to discover that the usual refreshing sea breeze was noticeably absent and the sun left like it was about 200 feet from the surface of the earth.  As soon as I set up my chair and kicked off my flip flops, I found myself doing the hot sand dance. You know this dance - it’s kind of a cross between the Funky Chicken and the quickstep.  And if any of you youngsters ask “What on earth is the the Funky Chicken?” I will personally come to your house and do the Funky Chicken on your head!  Google it.  Nuff said.  Anyway, I knew right away that a three mile walk was going to be particularly miserable today, so I resigned myself (with a certain amount of glee) to simply bobbing in the refreshing Gulf waters to stay cool and drinking about a gallon of iced tea when I was out of the water for short periods of time.  

I knew that if I was to meet my fitness goal, this left me only one option - my trusty elliptical trainer.  I came home, hot and salt encrusted and without benefit of a shower, or any other refreshment, I did my due diligence of 45 minutes on my squeaky elliptical trainer, while watching a DVD to save me from complete and utter boredom.  But seriously- I have to get some WD40 on that thing – STAT!  Afterwards, my shower was nothing short of heaven on earth and I felt no guilt whatsoever when I ate a couple of tacos for dinner.  None. Nada.

My goal tomorrow is to get to the beach before the temperature reaches blast furnace conditions and get in a beach walk.   But if my normally reliable sea breeze is missing, I will consign myself to the Gulf waters without a morsel of guilt or regret, maybe even burning a few measly calories by snorkeling.  But when I come home, my elliptical trainer will be waiting for me, like a dog waiting patiently for its master to come home and take it for a walk.  And I will perform my cardio ritual without complaint, because guess what – I lost a pound and that, my friends, is motivation enough for me.

Small Victories

Ah gentle readers, you may have wondered if I had given up on my fitness quest.  Fear not, good friends, I am still fighting the good fight, I just haven’t had the energy to blog, so I must regain some discipline.

When last we spoke, I was vacationing in North Carolina with my daughter, granddaughter and son-in-law.  I had hoped to get  a couple of good walks in, but the combination of my daughter’s first trimester fatigue and the miserable North Carolina heat and humidity put the kibosh on my grand plans.  Still, watching my three year old granddaughter run, jump, bounce, climb, slide and then run jump and bounce some more during a visit to Monkey Joe’s made me tired just watching her, so I figured that counts, right?  Well maybe not, but it sure was fun!  To have that kind of incandescent energy would be mind blowing at my age.  We did some walking at the aquarium and played in the sand and surf at Myrtle Beach on another day.  I did not count calories or try very hard to eat the perfect, healthy diet that I have been striving for.  I did not really exercise.  Instead I enjoyed the stress free pleasure of being with my family, of letting my vivacious granddaughter entertain me for hours on end and shopping with my daughter, watching Tangled and Toy Story 3 (while trying not to sob uncontrollably at the end) and just generally being lazy.  And I did not gain once single, solitary, jiggly ounce.

 

This, my friends, is a small victory.  In the past, a week of vacation eating would add five to seven pounds to my fishy white underbelly and I would have to starve myself miserably for weeks to lose that vacation weight, or worse yet, it would stay with me forever as a constant reminder of what a fun vacation I had.  Not exactly the type of souvenir that I like to bring home. I would much prefer a cheesy snow globe or a refrigerator magnet than a permanently attached addition to my wobbly bits.   So, it seems that I may have actually put on some muscle, boys and girls - the kind of muscle that helps to boost the metabolism ever so slightly and helped me maintain my weight, in spite of my lack of exercise and less than stellar eating habits for six days.

I have only been home for five days now and have gotten right back into my diet and exercise regime. The scales have yet to move in the downward fashion that I dream about, so they are still the enemy, mostly.   But - I actually maintained my weight on vacation without gaining and I was able to get right back in the saddle and start exercising after my short respite.  I walked three miles on Monday, did 45 minutes on the elliptical on Tuesday and again today.  Wednesday was housecleaning day and I still maintain that anything that makes me sweat and makes my back ache constitutes exercise, so I’m counting it.  It’s going to be a glorious weekend for long beach walks, so that’s the plan.  Even if my scales refuse to budge, I can see real, actual muscle definition in my thighs, more than I have seen in a while, so I know that I am doing something right.  Small victories are better than no victories….