Pregnancy hormone leads to weight loss?

Initially when I first heard about the hcg diet it made no sense to me. I do NOT lose weight while pregnant, even in the earliest stages. The baseball moms were whispering about this diet that someone was trying...you spray hcg under your tongue 2 or 3 times a day, ingest 500 calories of food (very defined food list and schedule) and experience significant weight loss fairly quickly. The argument about using the hcg in addition to the low calorie diet was that the hcg made your body act like it's pregnant and forces it to go to the fat to get calories you are deficient in rather than getting it from the muscle. Supposedly it helps get rid of that deep seated fat and continues to amp you up like you have ingested 1500 calories.

Now several moms have tried it and have had pretty good success. I think several have used an appetite suppressant which helps them deal with the only 500 CALORIES a day. Ultimately I think they've been pleased by the results.

Last week one of my running friends mentioned that she was considering this diet. Of course this isn't something you can do and actually run or do much exercise while doing it. It just got to me that apparently this diet (which has actually been around for years) is burning like a wildfire around the women I know here.

But here is my problem with it...beside the fact that it's only 500 calories! For me at least my food issues aren't just the overeating or the eating of the sweets. For me it's the place food occupies in my life. It's a main focus. I love food. I like the taste. I like the texture. I like the colors. I love how I feel sitting on my sofa with an cupful of soup or chili and a piece of fresh sourdough bread. It is just so pleasing to me. I watch the Food Network for crying out loud! And enjoying food isn't a really a problem. It's one of those things that separates us from the other animals. It's art that you can eat.

The danger is when you aren't actually savoring the food, but just mindlessly putting in your mouth, chewing, and swallowing without real recognition of the flavors. It's having my hand in a bowl of m&ms, grabbing about 10, popping them in my mouth, while I'm reading, and not really tasting the chocolate and crunchy candy shell, then grabbing another 10, repeat until the bowl is empty.

Sometimes diets since they are restrictive and you don't just sit there and eat and eat and eat, do allow you to regain that appreciation of foods' flavors. And that's great because appreciating the flavor of the orange is what it's all about.

The problem with diets, though, is they can feed the food obsession. I can become even more obsessed with food while on a diet because it's the charting, the planning, the weighing , the counting, .... Again it's all about food. Food, food, food. I've seen the pattern in myself several times. I've lost lots of weight on Weight Watchers many times. I've gained it back too.

What I'm trying now is to just let it happen. I'm certainly more motivated to lose some weight because with all of the work I'm doing physically I don't want it to be for naught. I've just naturally been doing better with grabbing a handful of grapes rather than a couple of cookies. I do think about it of course, as I make my choices. I'm trying to avoid the whole total immersion into a food plan thing, though. I don't think it solves my food problems even though it makes me look better for a year or two.

This winter will be a test of my resolve, though. Watch me tout the beauty of hcg under the tongue come January!

New Shoes for Me

There are days these days when it's all about me. You don't hear moms who can say that very often. And really, it's not completely accurate. But hey...there are moments in those days when it is about ME.

I started running a year or so ago because I could run 3 miles a little faster than I could walk 3 miles. That allowed me to exercise then go on with the rest of my day which was at that time about everyone else and what they needed. I picked running because I could then do all of the other things I needed to do and still squeeze in that time for myself without sacrificing anyone else.

It changed about 8 weeks ago though when I decided to train to do a half marathon. Half marathons are 13.1 miles which takes most of us two or more hours to do. In my case way more than 2 hours to do, but I'll get to that later.

So this training starts to add up. My short runs shot up to an hour long instead of the half hour. I had to add a long run to the routine and that took at least 2 hours. There is a good 4-6 hours of ME running. I also became more known to people around here as a runner, so when a boot camp class was scheduled I was on the email list. And I joined. So that added 2 evenings a week at an hour and a half each to my "training". See...it's becoming more and more about ME. MY. I.

Before my boot camp class I would make sure that the crockpot was cooking something savory and yummy. That salad was made. That there was sourdough bread to be served. And then...off I went. The R actually served the meal. I would come home dripping in sweat, desperately seeking a shower, after which I'd get into my jammies (see where this is going?), scoop some savory crocked food into a bowl, slice and butter a piece of bread and hunker down for my dinner. So this hour and a half becomes closer to 2 and a half hours that are all about ME. Because I also selected the tv show to watch while I ate. I. am. so. selfish!

I don't feel that it's all about me while I'm running or being booted around. It's hard, hard, work. I've never put myself through anything as difficult physically. I'm just not that type. The boot camp is great for me because I do not set the pace. My body feels like it's really been used once it's over. Part of the high is seeing that I can meet these challenges; it's not completely endorphins, though those help! Once the run is done, I can feel what I've done for MYself.

This all about me thing can be pretty good. We all need to put ourselves at the top of the list sometime. Some families are better about cherishing everyone in the family I suppose. Before the half marathon I did last weekend, the other women, their families, and my family got together for a pre-race pasta dinner. One of the women has done it for most of her big races. One of the daughers, just a year younger than the N, gave each of us ladies a chocolate truffle and a note of encouragement. Something to the effect of "You go, girl!". Never in a million years would that occur to my family.

The next morning, on our pre-sunrise ride up, one woman (the one with the lovely truffle daughter) talked about the notes her kids wrote and left out for her over night. One of the other moms talked about the little recorded notes her kids had put onto her ipod. It made me realize that my running was something that I just kept in a seperate box from my family. They weren't that aware of it since I tend to run before most of the household has gotten up. The N is really the only one who thinks to talk to me about it and his comments are mainly about my time goals. And not necessarily in a good way (like if I miss a goal by a couple of minutes he'll harp on it!) Maybe part of it is that I have all boys and a husband who is pretty blunt.

A lot of the encouragement I receive is from other women...and it is that typical girlie talk about "you can do it", "you are so ready",... You know, the kind of superficial, nice talk that is kind, but not really specifically about me and my skill level. I did have one woman tell me how "proud" she was of me, which I took as a misuse of the word proud. I can't imagine anyone but me being proud of me.

It was nice when we crossed the finish line (the slower 2 of us) and the other 2 women were cheering us on. It was nice to be seen and recognized. Usually I run alone, cross the line alone, get my water alone, use the toilet, then drive home alone. And since they were so rested, being so much faster and all, they were able to help get water, since I had completely lost my breath sprinting to the finish once I finally (and believe me I was so thrilled to finally see it!) saw the timing clock : 02:32:46. Our marathon training friends had finished in less than 2 hours (01:57 and 01:59). They knew we needed some help! We had both had some foot issues during the run so it was nice to be able to sit and catch our breath. It's nice to have someone who understands why we're mad at our damn shoe because it feels like there is a rock in there when there isn't.

I didn't feel bad though that my family didn't focus more on what I've been doing. I've kept it to myself in a way. I don't make a big deal about it or talk about it alot. It MY thing. But it was also nice to share it with a few other women who made it THEIR thing, too.

And to my marathon training friends "You can do it! You are so ready!" And I so mean it!

Don't Sweat the Sweat!

I've always been embarrassed by how much I sweat. Other women could aerobicize without even a glisten, but I'd be dripping, desperate for a towel.

While running, the sweat does it's job. I'm not aware of dripping while in forward motion. It's once I stop that it literally pours out of my pores. My kids no longer dive at me when I return from a run. "Ewwwww, you're wet!" is what I hear as I run upstairs for my shower.

But it's been the classes I've been taking recently that has made me become comfortable in my sweat. The women, all younger and fitter than I, sweat. Seriously sweat. Our instructor drips sweat. All over her cute outfits. She works us hard. We all sweat. It's a good thing. It's a sign that we're working and getting something out of it.

So get your sweat on!

Oh the memories...

It's hard to believe I got a college degree all those many years ago and this is how I spend my time! Actually this year I didn't stress much over J and M's birthday party. Once we decided we weren't going to spend $200 bouncing around I let go and didn't think much about it at all. After all having a sleep over is practically free (except for the little lego sets for the goody bags).

Saturday morning I did my long run for the week (12 miles!). Then it was time to think about having a bunch of 7 year old boys in the house for the evening and night. I kept my body from stiffening up after the run by doing housework, standing around in the kitchen making meatballs and cake.

I wasn't happy though. J and M have 2 friends who don't get along. Literally they fight. Long ago we had decided that when one is invited over we wouldn't have the other one over because it was just not fun for us at all. Unfortunately that would mean that one friend would be excluded from the big sleepover. And that was our initial plan as unsettling as that is. Yes. We were going to be jerks. I think that we had hopes that this would be the weekend he would be at his dad's. I know I had hoped it would work out that way. Of course it didn't. In the couple of days leading up to the big day and the big day itself he was here. All. of. the. Time. In the end we decided we would just have to deal with ever friction came up between the boys. I went over and talked to his mom and explained it all. And he came over for the party. Yay! I felt much relieved. It felt like we were on the right path again.

Having both of the boys didn't really add much to the general level of stress anyway. It's just hectic having that many kids in our small house. I had envisioned sending the R downstairs to be the enforcer, but no... he went to sleep. So...I stayed up until the last boy had fallen asleep. They did pretty good - it wasn't that long after midnight. I was extra tired though since I'd gotten up early to run. I had planned on making pancakes and sausage for breakfast on Sunday, but the N was up first and helped make each kid's breakfast. What a sweetie!

Once the party was over and the boys went home we could settle in and celebrate a quiet birthday. J and M busied themselves with legos for most of the day. I may have napped! It's funny, but it wasn't until the evening during nighttime snuggles that we really stopped to reflect on 7 years ago. It's amazing how long ago that seems. My tiny boys...all three of them really. The N was only 3, but acted so big. I remembered how he had just cried so heartbrokenly on the phone when he realized that I would be staying at the hospital. Now he just smiles when I remind him of his sweetness and tell him how we talked on the phone that first night, how we did our goodnights, sang our songs, told our stories until he went to sleep holding the phone. I reflect too of what has changed. I realized I don't hold them enough anymore. I miss it. So much.

Yesterday my neighbor told me she's 14 weeks pregnant with fraternal twins. She wants to pick my brain. To hear about what it was like. I can see bittersweet times are ahead. I already feel tears pricking my eyes and I haven't even really gone back yet. I'm looking forward to visiting my memories. I can feel my boys in my arms now. They really love it there, they just don't seek them out as often as they used to. And I don't seek them out as often as I used to. There's no good reason for that.

Too often it seems as though I am angry with them. I AM at times. I get so tired of getting on them about the same old things. I don't like seeing toys in every room of the house. I don't like having to always tell them to make their beds and get dressed before going to the computer or the tv. I don't want to argue about homework before ps3. They are participants in our relationship, too. They have an end to keep up. They have to think about how I feel about things, too. It's not all about them, or all about the R, or all about me. We're a family and we have to care about what is important to each other. But they need to realize that these moments where I get angry are fleeting moments. That we move on from it (once they pick up their crap!). I feel that they take it to heart too much. Instead of just going to take care of whatever they need to, they get sullen. It seems to snowball then. I don't think I should have to coddle or plead with them to do their jobs. If they don't follow through they deserve to have some consequence which may be my annoyance. Guys, just pick up your stuff so we can move on!

I look forward to having freshly remembered their babyness and bringing them into my arms to tell them all about it. It will be nice to change the conversation every once in a while. We need that.