WeightWatching – Four weeks into the program

I’ve been on WeightWatchers for a month now — and while I’ve lost only 7 lbs., I’m very happy with my progress because I had tried and not lost weight for the last year or so.  I had grown or not moved from my weight at all, and seeing the pounds being shed has been more than just gratifying.

Another thing that has made me rather happy about my progress is the fact that I know I could’ve done better by not indulging my sweet tooth or cravings and yet I still lost weight.  I’m not knocking myself because I’ve made major progress insofar as changing my eating habits.

1.  I’m eating more vegetables now that it is not only a meal option, but a snack of choice.

2.  Because I know I have a tendency to eat more than my weekly points allowance and my daily points allowance combined, I try to move more to earn “activity points” to swap at the end of the week when my reserves are running low.  I walk when I can, and instead of walking at a leisurely pace, I actually try and kick it up a notch to earn me more points.

3.  I still eat my treats but I now weigh what is worth the points and which ones I can do without.  So instead of shoving food into my system like there was no tomorrow, I’ve learned to be more judicious about which ones I actually pick up and put into my mouth.

4.  I’ve become more creative with “bulking up” the right type of food to satisfy my hunger.

I thought I’d keep an online diary of recipe/food items I’m using in my own daily meals and share ways I’ve made WeightWatcher’s a part of my life without feeling like I’m starving myself to death.  It’s like my personal recipe book, too, so that I can continue to make my food choices interesting despite being lower in calories.

There’s also a lot of ways you can make every day food — even fast food (!) work for you.  I know it has worked for me…

Book Signing: Joel Osteen – A Rock Star in my book

I fall in line at Joel Osteen’s book signings not because of me but more because of my sister, Ofie, who actually introduced me to his body of work. I see him as a life coach more than a pastor or a televangelist. I watch him occasionally when I catch him on TV on Sundays, but I don’t particularly seek him out.  Today, he’s signing his latest release: Break Out!: 5 Keys to Go Beyond Your Barriers and Live an Extraordinary Life.

I find his teachings inspirational maybe because while he teaches from the Bible, his words are relatable. I don’t feel like he is preaching from the pulpit above me — but rather that he is talking to me from across the table perhaps.

The line has snaked around 46th from the 5th Avenue storefront and I’m part of the latter half of the line. I continue to see people walking past me towards the end of the line clutching books to be signed. They had a 2-book limit, so I simply got one for myself and one for my sister.

Someone walked past and loudly said “They’re selling dreams.”. I think not. People are always drawn to messages of hope. We all look for affirmation that we’re okay, that we will be okay or that we can be okay. And I don’t think that is a dream. I think that’s true for everyone of us.

This is already my third time to fall in line for Joel Osteen, and the last two times, I’ve had the good fortune of shaking his hand as he walked into the store. This time around, he got off closer to the far end of the line and walked down the sidewalk shaking everybody’s hand. No photo op except to snap him up as he walked past, but he shook the hands of the people who forked up the money to help his book make it up the bestseller lists, and who are now standing in line for his John Hancock. That makes him a rock star in my book.

Lace and Feathers

It was  a beautiful day in New York today.  I decided to tak e a walk outside during my lunch hour for a change.  The park seemed too crowded,  so I headed to M&J Trimming, one of my favorite notions stores in the city.   I can spend the whole day in there just browsing.  I just wanted to unwind and be amongst things I’d love to run my fingers through and texture I can touch.  I was hoping to browse their shelves and shelves of lace to find something to experiment with as far as “imprinting” on polymer clay is concerned.  I browsed, I touched, and picked two patterns.

On the way out, I stopped by their wall of feathers and a lightbulb lit up in my head that made me pick up one.  (Projects will be in the GothamChick blog.)

Sometimes, all it takes is a quiet moment to help me get myself out of a rut.  Sometimes, it works, sometimes it doesn’t —sometimes it just doesn’t go.  A momentary distraction, I guess.  It helps.

People seem to be busy today, or tonight in Manila.  I didn’t hear from BFF Fe.  She has a funny habit of waking up at 2am which is now past, so I guess she’s fast asleep.  (She finally did say hello when she woke up Friday morning.)  I did catch my youngest brother, Nikki.

By evening, my allergies hit me hard.  My eyes are puffy and teary, and the allergy meds are taking time to kick in.  I”m trying to just “quiet” down before I turn in.  The boy’s homework’s all done, bathed and he’s headed to lala land.

I’m still struggling through the allergies.  I just logged on because I had to print something out.  I guess my lace and feather will have to wait until tomorrow when the allergies will hopefully be gone.

Riding it out

I’ve been trying to catch up with rest today, but it’s difficult to lie still when your body is periodically racked with heavy coughing.  I am also not used to sleeping with my head this high since I cannot lie flat because of the asthma.  All the struggle for air has also exhausted me, so while I am not confined to the bed because of this, I find it such a chore to move around.  I did breakfast and then tried to rest two hours, then hit lunch and now get my break before dinner.  (Since it’s just 1pm, I’m confident I’ll get some shut eye in before I have to return to the kitchen again.)

I hate it when I’m sick because while I’m not sickly, when I do come down with something, I tend to get hit hard.  A simple cold or sore throat can easily be a precursor to asthma which usually takes me a week and a half to ride out.  I’m almost done with the first week and will hopefully get to the “half” instead of a second week.  I’ve been offered a ride to the hospital if needed but I think that’s a little too extreme.  I’ve been worse. I just need to ride this out.  It’s also not like the things I do will get done if I don’t get up.

I feel helpless, though, in the face of all that I had planned for the weekend.  Of course I haven’t picked up my pliers, I haven’t had the chance to do any knitting (a precaution against further aggravating the asthma) although I think I have the right knitting needles now.  The only thing that has moved is my art journalling although that has moved at a literal snail’s pace.

I have been waiting to hear from a friend but who, I guess, has been busy processing things.  I patiently wait.  One thing I’ve learned in recent years is that when some thing is beyond your control, you can either pray or just lay in wait.   Spoken like a true disciple of Fe’s theories of the universe. =)  (I know, pal, the universe is listening.. I just don’t think it’s heard me just yet.)  I try not to do any processing myself because I’m afraid the old impatient me will kick in.  It just makes me wonder how one can put a friendship on hold.  Sometimes, processing takes more than one to do — like I usually process with Fe.. but that’s me and her

I try to take things lightly and just sit back here in bed.  I would normally be already up in arms for not getting a response — but the answers will come in time.  Perhaps the absence of an answer is an answer in itself.  (Although Fe would argue against that.)  I just know I’m exhausted — literally and figuratively.  It’s like constantly drowning and coming up for air.  I really shouldn’t be complaining because I’m used to being ignored.  I remember one time I had written letters endlessly with nary a response until some mischievous room mate picked up the letters and sent me a hair-raising reply that brought my friend to the rescue.  It sounds amusing recounting it now, but relating that to what’s been happening makes my heart sink anew.  I thought I was promised this would not happen again.  But we each have our guilt and grief that we must deal with our own way.  Process, we must.

Sleep would be such a welcome respite from it all.  Endless sleep.  That would help my heart catch up and rest from running after each and every breath.  The dreams would bring me some place where all is well.  And maybe I might meet a little girl there I missed out on meeting in this life — and she might help me touch this heart that needs to know it’s alright to be happy now, that the sins of the past are forgiven, and the promises that have been made can be kept without it being at the expense of others.  I know she would want that heart to move on — and she would say it’s alright to be happy.

I just wish the asthma would go.  I just want to be able to sleep uninterrupted for a change.  I woke up just before 5am this  morning — and I can’t remember now if it was because I couldn’t breathe because of the cold or my chest was congested and I had to cough to clear my airways.  I hate waking up because I gag and retch when I try to cough then.  Nothing left for me to do but just ride it out.