Win Some, Lose Some, But Mostly Lose.

I was tidying up the bathroom and went to move on to the boy’s room.  I stopped dead when I saw this:

Berry Boy had apparently decided to measure himself and his brother.  With permanent marker.

yeah, I was super impressed.

Interestingly, he also took the time to measure two of their Star Wars minifigures Captain Rex and Obi Wan:

you know, in case they grow.

Funny

We just got back from a trip to see family in BC, up North in Dawson Creek.  For the entire 11 hour trip there, Berry Baby consistently referred to it as “Awesome Creek”.  Because he genuinely thought that that was what it was called.  We only wish it was awesome.

While we were there, Berry Guy took all the kids to McDonalds for lunch, where Berry Baby kept asking him for “big knockers”.  It took him five tries before he realised that Berry Baby was actually trying to say “binoculars” (he likes to take his fries container and pretend that they are binoculars).  He has since improved his pronunciation to “big noculars”.

Which reminded me of when we were in New Orleans getting fast food and the lady behind the counter kept asking us if we wanted a “big assed tea” with our meals.  After a few tries (and Berry Boy gasping “she keeps saying the “A” word!!!!”) we figured out that she was asking if we wanted a "big ICED tea”.  Gotta love the accent.

Berry Boy had his first day of school before we left for BC.  He woke up at 3am the night before school and told us he couldn’t sleep.  Excited? I think so.

My Mom has an obese cat.  It’s almost appalling how fat this cat is becoming.  I was discussing this with one of my nieces who is 10 and she told me “Grandma says we can’t give the cat too many treats.  Only THIRTEEN PER DAY!!”  And then she snorted.  I love that girl.

In other news, I spent an entire day baking 3 kinds of cupcakes and 4 kinds of cake for my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary.  I then spent approximately 8 hours decorating said cupcakes and cakes with my 15yr old niece.  It was SO MUCH FUN!! She had thought out some really awesome designs and we put them onto the cakes together.  They turned out beautifully.  I will maybe post a picture or two when I get some.  Cake is fun.  And fattening.  I will now go run a hundred miles to make up for the amount of buttercream I have sampled.

Buttercream

This morning, for breakfast, I had buttercream icing with a side of cupcake.

I know.  It’s disgusting.

I only mention it because it seems like every time I’m on Facebook I see these ads that say stuff like “Jennifer Lopez lost 50 bazillion pounds of belly fat by following this! amazing! diet secret!”.  I’ll tell you, I don’t need to click on the ad to find out how she did it.  I already know.  She did it by not eating cupcakes slathered in buttercream icing for breakfast.

At least, I’m pretty sure that’s her secret.

So after work (and the cupcake) I got home for lunch, starving, and I scarfed down a platter of nachos.  With sour cream.  I am a total rock star when it comes to this nutrition thing.

Rock. Star.

Pretty much every running magazine that I read has articles saying “need to lose 10lbs?” or “can’t get off that last 5?” and promising all kinds of weight loss secrets that we might not know yet, and I keep thinking, “yes, I do need to lose 5lbs, but I’m pretty sure it’s not going to happen until I stop eating like crap”.

Except, I really really really like eating cupcakes and nachos.  Like really a lot.

So anyway.  I’ve started this cupcake thing where people pay me to gain weight make pretty cupcakes for their weddings.  It’s super fun, and I’m not too bad at it.  And I found this killer buttercream icing recipe that I can’t (evidently) get enough of.

Since I have this new Cupcake Problem, I figured it would be a good idea to put the money I’m getting toward some new running clothes (hello Lululemon – I’ve missed you and your overpriced but super cute workout clothes), since I am going to have to start running some of Suzy’s 100mile weeks in order to counteract some of this buttercream.

Because here’s the thing.  I’m a lateish 30-something-ish, and the running just isn’t totally doing the trick anymore.  Apparently, you can’t eat like crap and expect to run it off forever.  You have to keep running a lot AND eat better.

Sucks.

So I bought some sweet running capris and the short sleeved running t-shirt that I’ve been wanting for the last year.  I’m hoping that they inspire me to greatness.  Or at least less buttercream.  Those capris are tight.

Cake

I ran immediately after work this afternoon so that I could eat buttercream icing while I practiced icing a special cake.  Because that’s what bakers do, no?  Eat the icing while they work?

Anyway, I “dirty iced” it (I can say stuff like that because I watch Cake Boss on TLC.  I’m pretty sure that makes me an expert) and then broke out the icing bag and my piping tip.

The cake turned out really well for a first attempt – here it is:

It’s a ruffle cake, 6 inch round, 3 layers.  I filled it with lemon curd filling and iced it with vanilla buttercream.

I tinted it a light lavender because I thought it would go well with the yellow of the lemon filling.  Kind of ignore the top there.  I wasn’t exactly sure how to finish it on top so I tried a couple different things and then my hand was cramping so I just smeared icing into the center and called it a day.

And then I ate it.

4lbs

So we went to the lake on Sunday to hang out – it was 30 degrees and perfectly sunny.

While we’re chillaxing on the beach, Berry Guy tells me that he is not going to drink any more Coke for a few days because he needs to lose 4lbs.  Which for him is pretty much accurate.  He’ll say he needs to lose a few pounds, so he won’t eat at McDonalds one day and whammo, he’s lost whatever weight he wanted to lose.

He’s a loser.

So anyway, while we were at the lake we went for ice cream with the boys, because that’s what you do when you go to the lake.  And after Berry Guy had his double scoop of ice cream in hand, I ordered a single scoop for myself instead of a double.  And when he gave me a questioning look, I said that I was also going to lose 4lbs.

Yes, I was being a smartass.  But yes, it is now game on.

So later, when we were at Walmart and Berry Guy was paying for some stuff, I went into the McDonalds to order us all some supper.  I ordered him the Big Mac meal with a Coke.  I had a salad.

You know how it is.  If you’re not sure you can beat them, then sabotage them.

Ah, Morning

It’s that time of year again.  The time of year when I think that I really should Become A Morning Runner! and Get Up Early! and Enjoy The Morning Quiet!

I know.

I do this every year, at least once.

So I ran early one time last week, and then promptly ignored my alarm every other morning after that.  Even though that one morning run was glorious.  I’m super awesome like that.

And every time I ignored my alarm, I had major regret once I was up and going.  I want to enjoy the morning, and I hated that I kept on wasting these great running opportunities on these perfectly beautiful mornings.

But this week is Birthday Week, and after failing once again to rise with my alarm on Monday morning, I decided to give myself the gift of no more regret.  I decided to get up and run all this week as a birthday gift to myself.

It was a very inspiring moment.  Probably because it happened in the middle of the day, when I was fully caffeinated.

So I went to bed last night and had the worst sleep ever.  Of course.

But I  still woke up before 6:00 this morning, only to find that my entire lower back was seized up – presumably from the gardening I was enjoying yesterday.  No matter, I figured that the run would help to loosen things up at bit.

Except that I couldn’t bend far enough forward to tie my shoes.  Even in a sitting position.  It was awkward.  And painful.  And ridiculous.  It seriously took me about 5minutes to tie my stupid shoes.

But I persisted, got them tied and decided to ignore the fact that one was slightly tighter than the other.  It just wasn’t worth the effort to try and retie them.

Then I got out to the road to find it had been freshly graded.  Yesterday, there had been nicely worn tracks in the road that were smooth and perfect for running.  Now, the road was covered in nice loose gravel.  Great for the cars, horrible for the runners.

In spite of all the odds stacked against me, the run itself was great – slow, but great.  The air was fresh, the sun was already warm but not too hot, and there was a light breeze on the way back.  Perfection.

I’m going to do it again tomorrow.

I Got Beat by a Joggler…

Yeah, sometimes race day doesn’t *quite* go the way that you were hoping.

First, I have a suggestion for the organizers of the Saskatchewan Marathon.  The race is in May, and this is Saskatchewan.  It’s not hot yet.  We can start the race later than 7am and still manage to avoid the “heat of the day”, which I’m pretty sure doesn’t even actually occur yet in May.  Just a thought.  Because when I’m standing there shivering at 6:45am, teeth chattering, I’m wondering why I got out of bed so early to suffer so much.  10am would be good for me, thanks in advance.

And now, the actual race.

I had several race strategies, the first and most important of which was Finish Under Two Hours.  Which meant that the clock could say 1:59:59 and I would be ecstatic.  So to accomplish this, I had printed off a pace band to help me stay on target, I had great tunes loaded on my iPod, and my Garmin was all charged up and ready to go.

I forgot my pace band and my iPod.

So, I changed my plan to Stick To The Two Hour Pace Bunny.  The race started and for the first 3km I had him well in my sights. 

And then I lost him.

So, I changed my plan to Keep Running Hard.  No problem.  Garmin had me clocking paces around 5:30/km, and with my walking through the water stations this kept my km splits right around the 5:40/km mark, which was exactly what I needed to hit 2hrs.  Then I passed the Gu station (they hand out these little “Gu” packets that you squirt into your mouth) and all they were handing out were Vanilla Gu’s.  I can’t eat Vanilla Gu.  It looks like mucus.  So I passed on the Gu which I was kind of counting on for a shot of extra energy, but I wasn’t worried, because I felt awesome.

Until km 12.

That was when my legs said “ok, we’re done now” and my pace ground to a near halt.  Or at least that’s what it felt like.  I walked a minute, fixed my shoe that was bugging me, and my race strategy became Walk Only Once Between Water Stations.

Incidentally, this is also where I got passed by the Joggler.  The guy who was juggling three balls while running.  While running faster than me.  I hate getting passed by people like that.  It’s like the time I got passed in a 10k by the guy wearing the full chicken suit.  That should just never happen.

So anyway, around km 15 there was a sweet little boy at the water station handing out Timbits.  I grabbed a sour cream glazed and his expression told me I had just made his day.  I ate it with some water and thought I might rally a bit.

I didn’t.

From there my strategy quickly began to downgrade to Just Enjoy The Run, then Run More Than Walk, then Run To That Sign, then Run To That Crack In The Road, to Finish The **** Race So That You Can Go Eat Breakfast.

I sincerely wished that I had my iPod with me to drown out the sound of my own suffering.

Nevertheless, I made it to the final hill, took a walk break just before it, and then charged up it.  Ok, it was more of a shuffle.  My friend Bree was there at the halfway point on the hill and I begged her to run it with me.  Ok fine, I was almost crying.  She made the ultimate sacrifice and ran the hill with me – even though she had already run it in her 10k race.  True friend.

With Bree shouting stuff at me like “You can do it!!!”  and “you look really hot!!!!”  and “hurry up so we can eat breakfast!!!”, I made it up the blasted hill and sprinted to the finish with a finish time of 2hrs 6min.  A personal best, but not my 2hr goal.

And then I went and ate breakfast.

The end.

Spring(ish)

It’s sunny, the snow is melting, I had a fabulous run outside the other day, and I had my first iced coffee of the year at Starbucks.  Nothing is sweeter than warm Spring sunshine and an iced Caramel Macchiato, triple shot, half sweet.

So today I was craving something sweet (ok, I crave something sweet every day) but I’m trying to be a little more disciplined about my sugar intake, because apparently studies show that excess sugar can lead to people getting fat.

Who knew.

Anyway, I really wanted a Coke, but past experience has shown that drinking too many Cokes leads to tighter pants.  But then I remembered that I make really really good iced coffee.  Which is a little sweet, but not too sweet, and would totally satisfy my caffeine/sugar craving.

So I am at this very moment sipping on a perfect glass of iced coffee and loving life.  And in honour of this extremely happy moment, I will re-post my iced coffee post from last summer, so that you, too, can partake of some fabulousness in your own life.

Enjoy.

Love (originally posted July 2010)

This summer hasn’t exactly been booming with productivity so far.  I’m pretty sure that this week the most exercise I’ve done has been running down the stairs to get Fudgesicles from the freezer.

Yes.  All those Boot Camp sessions are going to good use.

What I have been doing a lot of is making (and drinking) iced coffee.  Starbucks came out with this fabulous Gazebo Summer Blend and I can’t drink enough of it.  Well, I can, but for some reason the constant shaking doesn’t seem to deter me.

So I thought I’d give you a nice pictorial guide to making iced coffee.  Because, you know, I don’t have 6 loads of laundry waiting to be folded and put away anything else to do.

So first, you might want to start with the Starbucks Gazebo coffee:

you will also want some Vanilla coffee syrup (although you could just sweeten it with sugar if you like)

Brew your coffee at double strength:

I ground the normal amount of coffee for my press, and then just filled it half full of water.

While your coffee is brewing, you will want to put some ice into the bottom of a pitcher.  For half a press-full of coffee, I use about 2-3 cups of ice.  When the coffee is done, pour it over the ice like so:

Then, take a pretty cup, put more ice in it, and drizzle some of the vanilla syrup over the ice…

then pour the slightly chilled coffee over that, about 2/3 full…

then splash in a little milk to top it off…

Give it a little stir to make sure that the syrup isn’t just at the bottom, and say “hello lover”…

Sip, sigh contentedly, and repeat as needed.

Runaway

Apparently, I am a flight risk.

So much so that I cannot be out of sight of Berry Boy for more than 30 seconds before he’s looking around and saying “Mom?  MOM??”

I literally cannot sit on the toilet in peace without someone frantically knocking on the door to find out where I am and what I am doing.  Really?  You don’t know what I’m doing in the BATHROOM?

It’s as if they’re afraid I will escape.

Things I Should Probably Stop Doing If I Ever Want My Scale To Stop Swearing At Me…

Fuelling my long runs with Coke

Having “just a little” chocolate with my cup of coffee (over, and over, and over again)

Allowing Chris to tempt me over for coffee with the promise of Gooey Butter Cake

Assuming that I can eat whatever I want just because I run (the whole “I run so that I can eat” thing isn’t working out so well anymore)

Making meals with copious amounts of cheese and/or heavy cream and/or butter…so, basically, stop making yummy food (or just stop getting my recipe ideas from The Pioneer Woman)

Allowing the Cadbury corporation to plague me with tiny innocent caramilk-filled bunnies

Allowing the Cadbury corporation to plague me with tiny innocent caramilk-filled snowmen

Trolling baking blogs

Making cupcakes

Making delicious buttercream icing

Eating cupcakes

Eating cupcakes while watching The Biggest Loser

Squirting buttercream icing directly into my mouth from the icing bag

In The Groove

I had a post all written up with a huge rant about how my weight seems to be climbing instead of falling, and how I have this inexplicable layer of fat around my belly that has never been there before, causing me to hike up the waist on my pants to cover the bulge every time I sit down, but I’m over it.

Because, here’s the thing:  all those things are still happening, but I don’t really care.

I’ve made a new discovery about myself.  It’s way more important to me to feel fit and strong, than to feel skinny.

I’m really surprised.

Seriously.  Because being “skinny” has always been very, very important to me.  I’ll admit it.  I’ve obsessed over my pant size, lamented the loss of smaller dress sizes, and occasionally wished that I had the willpower to be anorexic.  I know, there’s nothing healthy about that.  I’m just being honest.  Besides, anorexia will never be my problem – I love eating way too much.  Bulimia will also never be my problem because I am puke-phobic.

Since my hip problem has settled down and my back no longer seizes up 10 minutes after a run, I have hit my running groove again and it feels excellent.

And I’ve realized that when my legs are strong and (relatively) fast then I don’t really care what size they are.  When I can complete a solid 8k run the day after a long run, and not be in excruciating pain after, I don’t care that my weight is about 10lbs more than it *should* be.

Strong trumps skinny.

I love it.

And don’t worry, I’m totally aware that while I may not ever have an eating disorder I can certainly have an exercise disorder.  I’m doing my best to be sensible – I feel like I could run every single day, but I won’t, because I would probably wreck something.  I’m still striving for balance, I’m still spending time with my Bible (daily, even, a totally new discipline for me), I don’t freak out when life intervenes and I can’t get the run in that I had planned to.

But I’m loving the change in my head.

*This is not to say that I won’t have a drastic meltdown and complete mental reversal when my next PMS episode strikes

*Also, I do not mean that I don’t want to be skinny at all anymore.  I do.  It’s just less important.  At the moment.  And I reserve the right to change my mind with the swing of my hormones.

Ah, Love

It’s Valentines day, and I’m working out Berry Guy’s Plus/Minus for the day.

You know, like in hockey?  A plus for every goal that gets scored (by your team) while you’re on the ice, but a minus for every goal scored against your team while you’re on the ice?

Anyway, here’s how the day is breaking down:

PLUS – Berry Guy remembered that it was Valentines Day

PLUS – He told me that he had left a Heart Shaped cookie on the table for me

MINUS – it was a cookie that I HAD MADE the night before

MINUS – there wasn’t actually a cookie on the table for me

PLUS – he gave me a card for “Love Week” (because it’s our anniversary on the 19th) with a chocolate bar attached to it

Seems like he’s doing ok.*

We get to spend our Valentines Day in the neighbouring town for Berry Boy’s hockey play offs.  Yay me.  At least I have chocolate…

*but it’s only 2pm

aaaand we're back...

I know I've said it before, but I love Starbucks. And I think Starbucks loves me too.

Because right when I'm in the throes of post-Christmas Blend letdown, they bring in the Casi Cielo blend again and my heart regains its happiness. And just as I'm mourning the loss of all my favourite Christmas baking at home, they bring back their Petite Vanilla Bean Scones.

Now, my happily beating heart *could* just be the caffeine rush from the Americano I just bought to help me eat the Petite Vanilla Bean Scones, but I like to think it's bliss.
You say "caffeine high", I say "pure happiness". Tomato, tomato. (huh, that doesn't come out quite the same when you just type it...)

Anyway.

So I know this old bloggy thing hasn't really been happening lately, and I'd apologize but I'm pretty sure no one cares anyway, and also I don't actually feel bad about it. I'm not ready to shut 'er down, but I'm also not super dedicated to it like I used to be.
So I guess we'll just take it as it comes.