Operation: Lose the Bloat has been a successful endeavor. 9lbs of bloat have been shed in the past three days, and I've got two more morning weigh-ins before I actually have to wear my size 16 dress. It already fits better than it ever has, but there's a bit more progress to be made.

Tonight my husband is drinking whiskey, and it's REALLY HARD not to also have my own beverage. Grumble.

I'm taking this bloat-loss thing pretty seriously. Today I went for a run, intending to keep at it for at least 30 minutes. I kept my pace slow and steady, and after 14 laps (two miles), I decided to just keep going. After 21 laps I was pretty tired, but at that point my brain had latched onto the idea that it'd be pretty cool to run for four miles instead of just three.

And so, even though it took me an hour and nine minutes, I successfully jogged for four miles. That's my longest distance yet.

This Friday marks the one year anniversary of this blog and my weight-loss efforts. On average I've really only lost about four pounds a month, but that's okay. Weight loss is weight loss.

My younger sister's wedding is this coming Saturday, and I've acquired quite a bit of bloat from the last week or so. Damn you, delicious hard cider. In any case, my dress is a size 16 and was already a bit tight before the bloat. Therefore, this will be the week of OPERATION: LOSE THE BLOAT.

Today I ran as a warm up and then lifted weights. The overhead press still sucks, and I'm still working with just the bar. I squatted with 55lbs, and deadlifted 115lbs. I tried out my new fancy weight-lifting gloves, which will hopefully prevent my hands from becoming rough and calloused.

Tomorrow: lose more bloat.

Mini goal: Fit into dress on Saturday.

Slightly more longterm goal: Weigh under 228 or less by the time I go to Vermont (July 11th).

My husband is really into weight-lifting. It hasn't always been this way, but now he spends about an hour or so in the garage every morning, lifting and squatting and whatnot. And since he's seen pretty noticeable physical benefits from lifting, he's been pushing for me to try it as well.

I resisted for a good long while, citing the following:
1. Lifting sounds hard.
2. The garage is full of scary spiders that are bigger than my face, and I don't want a spooky spider to attack me whilst holding a million-pound barbell. That shit just sounds dangerous.

But last week, with the advent of summer, I decided to try something new. Husband made up a workout full of instructions and videos to watch, and I gave it a go.

The first attempt did not go well, with me feeling unable to do anything properly. I took a pity-party break in which I sat in the garden and cried. The pity-party then turned into an anger parade, in which I moved things around near the weight rack and cursed loudly. And then, because I was not willing to be a complete failure, I gave it one more good college try and actually got through the full workout. Sort of.

Workout A is comprised of squats, "yates" rows, and bench presses. The squats are really what did me in, as I felt I was going to either fall over or do bad things to all my muscles. Or both. I used only the empty bar for the squats, but was able to add 10 total pounds to the bench press and 20 total pounds to the rows.

Today I attempted Workout B, which was a bit less frustrating. Workout B entails more squats, overhead presses, and deadlifts. The overhead presses made me feel like a puny little child, as I was barely able to press the empty bar. Ah well.

So this summer, between running and drinking all the tequila, I will also try this weightlifting thing. Maybe it'll stick and I'll like it. Maybe I won't. At least I'm trying.

The "I'm Gonna Do This For REAL This Time!" Post, Summer '13 Edition

So the last month of school was a complete diet and exercise failure. When the kids are bad, everyones' nerves are shot, and the weather is warm, it is impossible not to drink after work. IMPOSSIBLE.

So I drank all the tequila, and the ciders, and then some beer. I ate food that definitely wasn't paleo, and certainly wasn't calorie-friendly.

And as a result, I've lost no weight since prior to Jamaica. I'm still hovering around 235, which isn't terrible, but isn't where I wanted to be by this point in the year.

In any case, summer is now officially here (and has been, as of yesterday). And since there are no more work-related excuses, I have PLENTY of time to exercise. Yesterday, I gardened (more like earth moving, since most of my time has been spent shoveling and moving soil) for an hour and ran for 40 minutes. Today, being worn out from yesterday, I ran for 22 minutes and gardened/earth-moved for 45 minutes.

Yesterday, as I was determined to avoid additional bug bites (see: my dog has a flea problem and so do I), I decided to spray myself down with 23% deet before my run in our woods. After very skillfully and professionally spraying my lower half, I accidentally sprayed myself directly in my left eye. There was a lot of swearing, followed by a lot of spitting because some got in my mouth whilst swearing. Long story short, my run was delayed by 15 minutes or so because my eye needed flushing.

It was a great start to what I'm sure will be a successful summer of awkward fitness.