10 miles

Today, I was planning on getting seven miles of running in.

For the first ten minutes, I wondered what the heck I was thinking. I didn't feel as though I had "it."

But it was cool out, even at 10 a.m., so I knew this could be a good day, if I could make it past the hard beginning.

I know the loop I run is 7/8 of a mile, so I was planning on going around eight times. I do all these mind tricks. I like to figure out the percentage of my planned run I've done, and that motivates me to keep going -- plus, it keeps my mind busy converting fractions into percentages in my head.

I did the 8 loops (7 miles) in 73 minutes, and I felt good, so I wanted to see if I could hit 90 minutes or 10 miles. At 90 minutes, I was still feeling fine -- plus, I was getting compulsive: I wanted the 10 miles.

I felt like I was slowing down, but I was probably speeding up in order to get through it.

I did the 10 miles in 105 minutes. That's my longest run in both time and distance. In fact it was 35 minutes more than I'd ever run at a stretch before.

By the end, my legs were feeling pretty heavy, but it was fine. Tomorrow will definitely be a rest day.

For the week, I got 235 minutes of running in, which is six minutes fewer than last week. Last week, I had four days of running; this week I had three. I also had the 50-minute Pilates class. One side effect of the running is that I didn't have any soreness in my legs after Pilates, as I usually would. I did have soreness in the arms and abs.

Bad music from the turn of the century

My latest musical kicks (old stuff!):

My Own Worst Enemy -- Lit
Inside Out -- Eve 6
All the Small Things -- Blink 182
Santa Monica -- Everclear

It totally says SoCal circa 2000 to me.

PUAs, yet again

I'm reading this hilarious book: The Game, by Neil Strauss.

It is ostensibly a memoir of his years in the Pick-Up Artist (PUA) community. The book's presentation is a hoot, as well, as it's designed to look like a Bible, complete with gold pages and a little ribbon to keep your place.

I don't believe a lot of the book.

I do believe the pickup stories and accounts of piggish behavior.

I don't believe the narrative arc. It fits too nicely together for it to be real. Things happen to perfectly; it's too much like a novel.

My fixation on reading about men trying to get women annoys my poor, long-suffering husband: "Why are you so fascinated with this garbage?"

He knows the story, but I tell him again.

Last summer, I was suddenly getting approached by more idiots than I ever did in my life. At first, it was sort of interesting, but then I just got embarrassed and annoyed. I'm thinking, "What the heck is up with this?"

So I turned to the great oracle, Google.

I plugged in, "Picking up women." And I found them, the PUAs, the most unintentionally hilarious group I've ever discovered. They all have code names: The Gambler, Mystery, Style. And more. They have whole patterns and schticks they use to hit on women in clubs. I was never a club person, so a lot of this is, for me, like reading about a completely different culture. Some people get irritated at their apparent misogyny. To me, they seem more than a little pathetic.

And, while I find them and stories funny, I also feel as though they did me a service.

Because, through them, I figured out that I was giving, "IOIs." Everything has a stupid acronym in the PUA community, and IOIs are "indicators of interest."

When I was really fat, I could look everywhere, as I was invisible to most people. People wouldn't look at me because, as we all know, being fat is contagious and if you look at a fat person, it just may happen to you.

But, once I was simply chubby, I was suddenly in The Game again, which totally shocked me after being out of it for so long.

So, when I'd look at or -- heaven forbid! -- smile at a stranger, as I used to do as a friendly, fat, goofy mom all the time, it was apparently guy code for "She wants me." But only once I was thinner, of course.

So I learned to be careful about where I put my eyes, and I'm stingier with my smiles, particularly with strangers. I'm back to acting how I did in my 20s, when I had good instincts about such matters.

Even though I (objectively) look better now, I don't get nearly the number of morons trying to make conversation or try out their stupid lines as I did last summer.

So, thank you PUAs!

Pilates

I never feel stupider than when I'm doing Pilates, particularly with a live instructor.

"Knit your ribcage."

"Squash the grape."

And always:

"Relax your shoulders, Kathleen!"

The worst part is the whole breathing thing: Inhale when you push out. Exhale when you pull up.

Or is it the other way around?

Plus, it changes for each little exercise. I know I'm not an idiot, but for some reason I'm not good at following these kinds of directions. I'm not good at knitting my ribcage or isolating my core. Or exhaling when I lie back and inhaling when I come up.

I started Pilates again partially because I got a decent deal, of course. But also because I've been neglecting much but running. My legs are incredibly firm, but my legs have never been an issue. Right now, in particular, it's more my core that needs work.

This should help.

Blueberry treat -- for me!

Here's one I can eat:

1 cup frozen blueberries
blended with
1 cup unsweetened yogurt
1/2 t. cinnamon
1T. ground flax seeds -- or chia seeds (not ground!)

Blueberry treat -- for kids!

OK, before you get all excited, know that I can't eat this.

I invented it today for my kids.

1/4 cup frozen blueberries -- heat in microwave in bowl
Add 1/2-3/4 cup unsweetened yogurt
Put 1/2 T. flax oil, 1 T. wheat germ, 1/8 cup oats, 1/2 t. cinnamon and 1 t. sugar on top (I used beautiful "vegan" sugar I found at Whole Foods that was nice and sparkly) on top. I add the sugar last so it's pretty. I'm guesstimating on the ratios, of course.

I present it unmixed and then have the kids mix it.

High maintenance

Paul likes to tease me about being high maintenance now.

He thinks he's really funny.

In some ways, he's right, though. I'm the goofy woman at the restaurant asking the chef if there's any sugar in his vinaigrette.

What's amazing for me is that it doesn't seem to irritate people all that much, as I always imagined it would. As I get thinner, I feel more entitled, I think.

I mean entitled in a good way, not a step-on-others-and-be-nasty kind of way; I was too much the martyr before.

Food!

Although yesterday started off rough, food-wise, it ended great.

I went to a potluck that actually had wonderful food that I could eat!

I also lucked out in that I didn't bring vegetables, which I usually do -- and all the most stunning items were "clean" veggies.

Intervals

I should be doing them.

I should be doing a lot of things.

Right now, though, I don't want to mess with what I have in the whole slow running thing, which is so meditative.

Maybe next month I'll start doing little sprints at least one day a week.

70 minutes today

I just got in 70 minutes this morning, which ties my longest run ever, time-wise.

In many ways, the whole thing was a bit ill-advised, though, as I hadn't eaten breakfast. Usually, I eat breakfast as soon as I get up, but I wanted to run instead and I didn't want to run on a completely full stomach. Then, the run got postponed a bit as a couple of the kids woke up and needed me. I didn't get out the door until 8:30, a good hour later than I was planning.

Regardless, it was just OK. I'll make sure I eat next time.

Rough Day

Because of a lot of general busy-ness, I'm having a rough day on the plan. Without the car, we ran out of fruit for my smoothies. Because I had to run and get the car, I didn't eat breakfast properly (it was a little too spread out). I think because of that, I was having a bunch of cravings today. I also didn't get my typical long Wednesday morning run.

First, the potato chips at the grocery store were looking way too good. Then, the corned beef in the fridge (there's sugar in corned beef, so I can't eat it) was tempting. Finally, I made toasted bagels for my kids -- and I thought I was going to chomp on those.

I didn't, of course, but I felt "close," closer than I have in a while. I also started thinking that I might've accidentally gotten something processed somewhere in there, but I don't think so -- it was all from the messed-up breakfast. That feeling of temptation is familiar; I remember having it for most of my life. I haven't, however, had to deal with it that much lately.

Post Number 300

Heck, I'm nothing if not prolific. For Post Number 300, I'm going to pontificate a bit on the nature of blogs, memoirs and other personal writing.

The hard thing about blogs and memoirs is the dance between honesty (at any given second) and respect for those in your life. Sometimes, I undoubtedly cross the line. One great thing about being married to Paul is that he's also a writer. He truly "gets" it. He knows he's a character in my blog and that the "he" who is a character in my blog isn't exactly the "he" who is my husband. I also allow him to use me as a character in his talks with the guys at work. I'm more careful when I mention my kids -- and even more careful about other people. I can't expect as much as Paul gives from minors and from others I don't know as well.

What Week One Was Like

I didn't start the diet with particularly high expectations.

I had spent the last six months before I started actively working a variety of weight-loss ideas. I walked for an hour a day. I counted calories. For a while I even tried the goofy Subway diet. (I lost nothing, which is probably because I was already eating so few calories; plus, I didn't start off weighing 450 pounds, as Jared did.)

But I was getting increasingly frustrated. I felt awful and I looked terrible. It felt like I couldn't lose weight, no matter what I did.

So, I asked Tiffany if I could start her plan.

She, I think, was a little shocked. We'd talked about weight issues for years, but I wouldn't go on the plan.

It was very much a whim. I asked about it on a Saturday, and I started on Monday.

It was right about the time we were moving back to L.A., so I cooked and premeasured a bunch of meals for me and stored them in the fridge, so I didn't have to think about what I was going to eat.

The shocking thing was I was no longer thinking about food. That happened right away.

I wrote this to Tiffany on Day 2: "I really haven't been tempted to go off it. I went to Trader Joe's today, which is usually a pretty dangerous place for me. I got the kids some shortbread cookies, and I haven't been interested in them at all."

I thought no sugar and no flour meant pain and sacrifice; instead, it brought me freedom.

What Not to Wear, the home edition

My 10-year-old, who enjoys the "What Not To Wear" show, is my new, unasked-for fashion consultant.

"Mom, Stacey and Clinton would hate those shorts. They're way too baggy."

I'm just wearing them to park day -- it's fine.

"No, it's not fine. Stacey and Clinton have people dress nice to walk their dogs."

Oh, but those are single people, sweetie!

"Mom, you can't wear that blazer. It looks too big on you."

Darn! I thought it was fine.

"Mom, Stacey and Clinton would hate those shoes. They look old -- plus, they have almost a square toe. And they're flat."

She's right on that one. Those are my "comfort" shoes.

"Your (top) looks too big in that dress."

OK, OK, OK. ...

She's also gunning for me to dress badly once I finish losing weight so I can get nominated to go on the show.

I think not.

Losing the frumpies

People think that losing weight is all 100 percent positive. It is on so many levels. First, I feel as though I'm 25; I was always high energy, but now it's just insane. Second, I have a happy husband back, instead of one who is unconsciously irritated with me.

At the same time, there are side effects that aren't so fun for me, purely based on the fact that I look different, even though I'm the same person.

I was telling one of my brothers about some of it. He wasn't totally getting it. Heck, most people don't.

I don't see my brothers all that often, but we talk on the phone a ton. Because we don't see each other, our internal pictures of what the other looks like are often very skewed. In my mind, my brothers are younger and slimmer; in their minds, I'm younger and heavier.

I'm totally the frumpy mom of babies and toddlers to them, so I had to explain: No, it can be uncomfortable that I'm not so much the frumpy mom anymore since I've lost weight. (For one thing, I didn't have a choice but to get new clothes, both hand-me-downs and ones I had to buy.) And that can mess up the status quo with people who have known me. So many relationships change. Tiffany talks about this happening to her as well.

I get accused of getting too thin even though I'm still a minimum of 15 pounds overweight. Or the compliments turn into hand-wringing about people's own weight or fitness level -- despite my assurances of people's attractiveness. Or they make other inappropriate implications about my moral code because, suddenly, I must not have one.

My silly brother had the best line: "Tell them you're thinner, but you're still Kathleen. You're no threat to them. They need to chill."

He's right. Plus, I need to chill as well. It's not my issue. And most people are fine.

But this is why I just want to be finished with this whole business. I want to be settled where I'm going to be, so I can stop changing so much. It's too darn disconcerting.

Frames & my anorexic tendencies

All fat women think they have a "large frame."

Because, then, you're that much closer to being at a proper weight, according to the weight charts. They often break the ideal weight ranges down by frame size. If you have a large frame, you can weigh more. At least that's the implication.

I'm no exception. Of course I thought I had a large frame.

I think, though, that I probably really have a small or medium frame, as my wrists are small and my hips (I'm just discovering!) are narrower than I thought. But I still look as though I weigh far less than I do to most people. Who knows why. And that's one reason I occasionally get the cracks about my budding anorexia. I've got quite a ways to go before that's a real concern.

Stuck at home

The car is misbehaving.

We have a wonderful mechanic who told us what he thought the problem was. "But it would cost a lot of money to fix it," he said. It turns out he was thinking that $200 was a lot of money. Paul and I were envisioning a $1,000 charge or more. I love that guy.

It's probably good that I'm homebound, as I'm getting a lot of work done. I'm aiming to find a couple of misplaced library books today.

I'm walking on all my errands, and it's nice now because there is a little grocery store very close to me, in addition to the produce market that's a bit further away. The only issue is my girls have a class tomorrow that'd be nice to get to. Otherwise, we have no urgent reasons to need a car this week.

Day 522

I figured out my number of days on the plan today.

I tend to lose track. People who are in AA get it, but others laugh when I tell them I've been on the plan for x number of days, like it's so terrible that I'm counting them.

It's not terrible at all.

It's great.

So I don't mention my number of days anymore.

A conversation :-)

Paul: Hey, I think you could run a 10K.

Me: Of course I could.

Paul: So, why don't you?

Me: Well, they cost like $30 or so.

Paul: Oh, that's a good reason!

Me: Plus, runners are really into carb-loading. And sports drinks. There'd be all kinds of food I can't eat.

Paul: That'd be annoying.

Me: Yes.

60 minutes

Just got my 60 minutes in.

Got a bit of a stitch in my side around the 40-minute mark, which tells me I was going too fast. So I slowed it down, and it went away.

I got some new running music: Black Kids (media darlings from a while ago (last summer?) who remind me of The Cure) and The Veronicas. The Veronicas are British identical twins or identical-looking sisters and they do dancey-techno crap, which I don't usually like. But running brings out different musical leanings for me.

Accidentally eating sugar

Here's what I mean when I talk of "accidentally" eating sugar, which I know sounds suspect:

1) It's a Halloween potluck and my youngest comes up to me and says, "Mom, can you hold my lollipop?" I say yes and then a few minutes later I unconsciously pop it in my mouth. This happened on Day 4 or so. Haven't done that one since.

2) We're at Taco Bell (for the one and only time in like five years!) and the kids are drinking lemonade. I'm drinking unsweetened tea. Someone wanted to try my tea, and I got handed the cup of lemonade back by accident. I took a swig, as the cups were identical.

3) I'm at a potluck and I try cooked veggies, which, it turns out, had sugar added. I don't like quizzing the cook, as it feels rude, but I pay later when I don't.

That's the kind of thing I mean. It's not like I can accidentally take a bite of a cookie or something.

Chinese food recipes

I'm the worst person to give recipes because I tend not to follow them. Sure, I'll follow a new recipe, but, I usually freehand my cooking.

So, when I make Chinese food, I pour toasted sesame oil into a pan, add minced garlic and minced fresh ginger and stir-fry for a bit. I add the tofu or chicken and stir-fry that. Then, I put some tamari or other wheat-free soy sauce in the pan, along with some water. Then, I add a whole huge bunch of sliced bok choy and shredded carrots, if I have them, and stir-fry until it's all wilted.

Serve over brown rice.

Unmentionables

It's so much easier for me to find clothes that fit now.

What's harder is finding appropriate foundations. Before, I could go to what I always called, even when I was heavy, the "fat lady stores," aka Lane Bryant or The Avenue, where they always had something that would work and wouldn't cost very much.

Now, though, since my band size has gone from 44 to 34, virtually no one has my size in stock. I have to go to Nordstrom's or the fancy underwear store in Beverly Hills. Then, I'm spending $50 and up. Which just about kills me.

So I was thrilled yesterday to find a number of things that fit yesterday at Nordstrom's Rack on the clearance bin, including one $78 number marked down to $7.50.

Eating out

I don't eat out at Chinese or Thai restaurants anymore. I will make my own versions of Asian food because I can use the wheat-free soy sauce or tamari -- and I won't throw little pinches of sugar in.

The easiest places for me to eat are simple seafood/steak places.

Wahoo's Fish tacos offers brown rice now, which makes it nice for me to eat there. They don't have as many veggies as I need, so I have to eat out of my cooler when I go there as well.

Whole Foods' hot food bar almost always has something I can eat. The ingredients are always helpfully listed. It's really expensive, though.

Cold turkey

I've known about this eating plan I follow for, literally, years.

But I wouldn't go on it.

Tiffany and I have been friends since 2000, and I saw the way she ate. I was always over at her house. I never saw her fat, though, and I just thought she just had more willpower.

Not eat sugar and flour?! Are you nuts?!!

I thought she was vainer than me, that she wanted to be slim more than I did.

In the meantime, I tried every other plan on the planet. They worked, of course, but the weight loss was slow (surprise!). Plus, I couldn't stop thinking about what I was deprived of. I lost patience and couldn't stay on anything long enough for it to "work" in a significant way.

Now, I don't think about things I don't eat. There's something that happens physiologically that ends the cravings.

I went cold turkey on sugar, wheat and flour on Oct. 22, 2007. I have had those things accidentally since then, and I feel more cravings when that happens. This hasn't meant that I never go to fast-food restaurants (most places will give me a "protein-style" burger and have unsweetened tea), but I don't do it often.