My First Triathlon: Triathamom (Part 2: TRI and Succeed!)

(Find Part 1 outlining the preparations for my first triathlon here.)

After a year's worth of mental and physical preparation for my first triathlon I was really surprised to find my nerves were very calm the day before and on race day. Excited, yes. Nervous, not so much. This is very unusual for me. I always expect to get zero rest the night before an event. Last night I actually got about 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Woah. Definitely unexpected. Absolutely appreciated.

My alarm went off at 5:45 am. I got up and dressed and roused the house. For breakfast I ate an English muffin with crunchy peanut butter and a slice of watermelon. This worked well for my tummy today. We drove the 20 minutes to South County Pool in Riverton while my son chattered non-stop about Legos. I finally turned to him and asked him *nicely* to be quiet. (So maybe I was a little more nervous than I thought.)

Age on the right calf

Check out my tats

#559

We parked and I made my way over to set up in the transition area. Dee carried my bucket for me while I pushed my bike. (Note to self: bring a bigger bucket with a handle next time in case I have to pull a one-woman show). I set up my bike and helmet, shoes and socks, hung my towel on the bar, and taped my Ziploc baggie of fruit strips and capsules (anti-fatigues and endurolytes from Hammer) to my bike bar. (Note to self: buy one of those real attachments to carry things on your bike. Also, bring more water. Possibly a jug of it. One more thing: a better marker, like balloons, so I can quickly find my bike in the mass.) Then I waited in line for the port-o-potties. Dee hung out with me and it was fun having one of "my people" with me instead of being alone. We watched the sun rise while we waited. What a beautiful day!

My Port-O-Potty Pal

The best pit crew/cheerleading squad a mom could ask for!

At 7:25 am it was time to walk over to the pool for a briefing.  I sipped on a mixture of water and Beach Body Energy and Endurance while I listened and chatted with other ladies in the crowd. Soon, the event began and the Expert group of swimmers were in the water. I waded into the pool on the side worried I would need some time to acclimate, but the water was the perfect temperature so I made my way back to the deck and tried to figure out where I should be.

I can swim 300 meters in about 9 minutes which is right in between two classes. I wasn't sure if I should be bold and join the Intermediate class taking the risk of being dead last or if I should wait around for the Beginner class and let the time grate on my nerves. I decided to go for it and hope that adrenaline pushed me over that 9 minute line.

I for Intermediate

All my worrying really didn't matter in the end. There were obvious beginners in the pool along with experts. It was rather chaotic even though the race director seemed pleased and shouted something about how we were going to get all the swimmers through in record time. I wandered into the "line/crowd" where a bunch of other Intermediate ladies were.

As I got closer they called for the rest of the Advanced swimmers and a few ladies came forward. I thought I was in a pack of Intermediates but it turned out I was one of the first Intermediates to go. Oh well. I was anxious to get started and it ended up being a really excellent spot to be in. I was able to swim at my own pace without anyone passing me and me having to pass anyone. I did catch up to someone, but I held back a bit and let her pull ahead just for the sake of not having to crawl over each other.

I swam a little faster than I normally would but I really tried to keep it calm and controlled so as not to burn out too quick. I felt a little breathless through the entire 300 meters but nothing that hindered my swimming. I promised myself I could breathe later on the bike.

I did have a couple of tiny issues. At the beginning I was following a line on the pool floor which led me right into a wall. No harm done, I quickly corrected my course and continued on. Later in the swim a woman going the opposite direction, doing the backstroke, wandered into my lane and crashed into me before I saw her. It was a simple mistake and no one was hurt, but I was really glad it wasn't me who had made the mistake. My husband said from his vantage point on deck that I had it pretty good in the pool. People were swimming over each other and crashing into one another. Apparently it was pretty ugly in some places.

Back Stroke Betty and me

My husband and kids were right at the pool edge and I could hear them cheering for me as I swam past even with my ear plugs in. It was fun to flash them an "I love you" sign as I swam by and I loved that they got to be so close to the action. Plus, I wanted to show my husband those swim lessons had paid off. ;)


I chugged along making my way through the three 50 meter lanes, back and forth, under the rope, back and forth, under the rope, back and forth doing a steady freestyle stroke the entire time. While I had been waiting for my turn on deck I saw several ladies WALKING through the pool more than swimming. Walking. During the pre-race meeting they had told us we could rest and even walk a little in the pool, but that seemed so wrong to me. I came to swim. Swim I shall. I don't mean to sound judgmental. It's wonderful that any of these ladies were here and making it through the course by whatever means possible, but after seeing that, my biggest goal was to not be a walker.

9 minutes, 19 seconds later I pulled myself on deck and jogged over to the transition area. When I volunteered last year it was eye-opening to watch people get out of the pool and make their way to transition. You could tell the swim had taken many by surprise and absolutely wiped them out. That's scary considering how much was left to do. I was very grateful for all that swim practice when I was able to quickly get out of the pool and move over to T1 still feeling pretty fresh. Running from the pool to the bikes was a remarkable feeling. I felt like an athlete.

Drying off and getting ready to bike

Just sitting here on my bucket

I love YOU, Elle!

And we're off!

Once I found my bike I dried off, threw on my shirt and shorts, and sat on my bucket (Thanks to Teresa for that helpful hint!) to get my socks and shoes on. I grabbed my bike and ran out the gate. T1 time was 2:52. They had to remind me to put on my helmet (Too many things to remember!) and I was off. I let myself catch up on breathing from the pool, drank some water, and settled into biking.

The course was HILLY! Lots of ups. Lots of downs. But since it was an out and back ride it was even. I'm not exactly sure how long the bike portion was. The Triathamom website says it's a 12 mile course, but the map on the same website says it's an 11 mile course. I didn't want to carry my phone with me (Note to self: Carry your phone on your bike and run. It won't be a problem.) so I don't know how long the course truly was. I was passed several times (mostly by road bikes) but I also passed some people too. The ladies on the course were super about cheering each other on. There was a great sense of comradeship throughout the entire event.

There were several walkers again on the bike course. Many would hop off their bike and walk up the hills. I was very surprised by this and maybe it's perfectly normal and maybe even a smart race tactic but again I vowed to not be a "walker".

My worst fear on the biking portion was that I would get a flat tire. I STILL don't know how to change a flat tire which is very irresponsible of me but I just haven't taken the opportunity to learn. (Lazy much?) I saw at least four ladies on the side of the road with flat tires. I felt so bad for them. I could only imagine how frustrating that would have been. I saw one of these ladies on the run later and she was in tears. I could tell it had been a particularly trying experience.

At one point a woman passed me. Right after her gears must have locked up because she started to crash, but she was clipped in to her pedals and couldn't get out so she crashed with her bike. I stopped and pulled her bike off of her and held it for her until she could stand and grab it herself. Then I took off. It felt wrong to just leave people in compromising situations, but I don't know what help I could have been. They had officials on the course helping with flat tires so no one was stranded too long. Still, every time I saw someone else struggling I said a little prayer that everything would continue to go smoothly for me which it did.

Eventually the bike portion was over with a time of 51:04. Getting off the bike was hilarious. My legs were funky. I thought I had practiced for this but I had obviously been pushing faster than normal today. I bet the guy at the gate had some good laughs today watching people get off their bikes and trying to run. I pushed my bike back to my spot, guzzled some water, ditched the helmet, and walked quickly to the running portion. I had already fueled with 2 fruit strips, 2 AFs, and 2 endurolytes halfway through the bike course. I sipped water throughout too. (Note to self: find a better way to transport these things. It was kind of dangerous trying to deal with a Ziploc baggie and masking tape while cruising on a bike.) T2 time: 0:55. I looked for my family but didn't see them. I figured I'd see them at the finish line. Later discovered they were out to breakfast. (Note to self: create good feelings with husband on race day by packing a breakfast or snacks for everyone.)

Shortly after walking out the transition gate I was able to start running. I have been having a lot of problems with plantar fasciitis in my left foot the last several months. There has been a great deal of pain and stiffness in both feet and I've cut way back on my running miles, therefore losing some fitness ground. It's been very frustrating to see my abilities diminish and feel like I don't even recognize my own body anymore. Today there was no pain, but the run was not "easy". I breathed hard through most of it. That could be thanks to a lingering cough and the heat of the day too, but I still struggle with feeling like the run shouldn't have been a problem at all. I was first and foremost a runner after all.

The first half mile or so was almost completely downhill. The hill from hell. With switchbacks and everything. It wasn't so bad going down, but since this was another out and back course...what goes down must come up. Oh the dread. After running down the hill I found myself walking way more than I had ever planned. Now I am the walker. Oh well. It is what it is. I alternated between running and walking throughout the entire course until I got back to the hill which I walked up with zero shame. It was then a short, flat (Hallelujah!) run to the finish line. My family was waiting near the finish line and my oldest two jumped in and ran to the end with me. (Loved that!) Even with all that walking I had a 33:38 5K run which is pretty good for me.

Finally the finish line! It was awesome and accomplished and glorious and beautiful with my children by my side! I had a huge smile on my face, one that had permanently been stuck on there since jumping out of the pool. And then the announcer announced my name and my "story"...

Aaaand here's Evelyn Perkins! Back in 2011 she began a weight loss journey blah blah blah LOSING 100 POUNDS!!!

*Crowd starts cheering wildly*

I had forgotten that waaaay back in 2013 when I had registered for the race that the form asked for your "story". Back in Fall 2013 my story was this: I was at my lowest weight yet, right in the midst of training for and running three consecutive full marathons, eating perfectly, and at the peak of physical fitness and self control. Shortly after that I got so fed up with having to be minutely obsessed with calories and daily two+ hour workouts to maintain my weight loss that I decided to "take a break" over Christmas. A "break" somehow turned into months of unmonitored eating and not totally absent workouts, but certainly not the hours and hours I had been doing before. 50 pounds have poured back on since then. I have been trying so hard to find the right balance between a healthy body AND a healthy mind. Lately I have taken on the mantra "My body is an instrument, not an ornament." I've tried to find happiness in being plus size again but a healthy, capable plus size. Sometimes I can do it. And then there are times like this.

It totally deflated me. The shame. The remorse. The memories of what was and what was lost. The dishonesty of the moment. Ugly tears bubbled right up to the surface. One second I had been a triathlete. The next I was a sham. A woman came up to me. "Are you the one who lost all the weight?! Amazing! Just amazing! I was crying too!" (Well lady, we're not crying for the same reason.)

That was a little gray cloud that momentarily blocked the glorious sunshine of the moment. I tried to let it roll on by and just revel in what I had just accomplished, whether I had lost 100 pounds or 50 pounds. I hugged my family, grabbed some water, a bagel and some fruit, and headed out of the finishers' area. My kids were intent on getting some cotton candy. They had been eagerly anticipating it for days. Cotton candy! Oh and Mom's doing something too. We barely made it as the woman handed out her last four cotton candy cones. Whew!

The people who make me a TriathaMOM

We headed home with me riding high from the adrenaline and excitement of the event. I felt amazing for a few hours after and then the exhaustion hit. I'm a little tired and feel slightly achy all over, but pretty good otherwise.

I've been waiting for this day like Christmas morning and too soon it's all over. It really has to be one of the most ENJOYABLE events I have ever done. I had a literal smile on my face almost the entire time. It was challenging enough to be "hard", but it was absolutely doable. I love switching up the activity instead of pounding my joints beyond tolerance with miles and miles of solely running. The transitioning makes you feel like a rock star or a ninja. Oh, you think I only swim? Well, guess what... I'm riding a bike. Now look at me. I'm...running! A-HA! 

I had predicted my finishing time to be 2:15 (9 minutes swimming, 1:15 biking, and 40 minutes running with time for transitions). I guess I underestimated myself because I finished with a 1:33:59 time!

Swim- 9:19
T1- 2:52
Bike- 51:04
T2- 0:55
Run- 33:38

I finished 175th out of 313 participants. 64th out of 107 in my age group (30-34). While I could have cared less about time I am very pleased with my performance. I gave it my all and walked away with no regrets. (Well, maybe except for that stupid announcement thing.) I completed it (probably my only true goal of the day) and had a ton of fun doing it. I LOVE TRIATHLONS! I am perfectly ready to commit to an Olympic distance. (Spudman 2015 anyone??)

One thing marked off the Bucket List. Another one added.

The Triathamom experience is awesome! I would highly suggest this event to ANYONE! Well, anyone that's a woman I suppose. YOU CAN DO THIS!! Seriously. You can be brave and take swimming lessons and watch biking YouTube videos and work your way through the Couch to 5K program. Yes, you can!!

A little side note: I'm going to sound tacky here but I'm rather disappointed in the Triathamom "finishers' medal". This is supposed to be a necklace but even the charm is so scrawny and simple it reminds me those red spreading sticks in the Kraft cheese and cracker packs. I know I had a free entry but anyone who paid for this event paid something like $75 or more. You would think there would have been money left over for better medals. (Or at least more cotton candy.) That's coming from a girl who loves her race bling. I can't believe I'm going to admit this but it's probably half the reason I participate in events. The bigger and shinier the medal, the better.

Other than that minor detail...Triathamom=AWESOME!

P.S. My superhero friend Jen came shining through for me. Last night she texted me asking for my overall mileage today. She wrote my number on her arm and ran my distance today. I love the heart she brings to running and felt her speedy spirit today. Thank you Jen!

Out of Control

0.7 pounds lost this week. That makes a total of 9.0 pounds lost in 2012.

Nope. I'm not surprised at all with such a pathetic loss this weigh-in. I fell apart the last couple of days. I got busy with Baby Cee's birthday party preparations. And then I just got lazy. And then I just got out of control.

I really hate the relationship I have with food.

But then I am a self-proclaimed "all or nothing" kind of gal.

One day I'll learn to stick it to my nature and achieve balance.

One thing I did well this week: On my running days I ran to one and a half songs (instead of just one song), walked one, ran one and a half, etc.

One thing I can improve upon: Making sure I get my workouts done in the morning. This sure seems to help me be more in control throughout the rest of the day.

What I'm listening to: I don't know. I seem to be pushing "Next" a lot these days. Any musical suggestions for me??

If I could just shut my mouth...

...then I wouldn't be so embarrassed on Monday morning when I haven't lost half of the ten pounds I said I was going to lose before Thanksgiving. Or lost any pounds for that matter.

At least I didn't gain.

I have a feeling that if I could just shut my mouth I would also be able to lose those ten pounds. (Chocolate covered pretzels what?!)

*groan*

I'm done. I can't do this. Not now. Not through the holiday season. I've had it.

New plan of action.

Maintenance.

Until New Years.

Why does this not feel like the brightest idea either?

Good News and Bad News

Good news and bad news.

Which do you want first?

No weight gained, but none lost either.

This is the second week in a row that I've maintained my current weight.

While I'm grateful I haven't gained anything, I'm frustrated with this plateau. I have a goal of being under 200 pounds before January 20, 2012, Baby Cee's first birthday. I don't care if I'm at 199.9999 pounds. I just want to see a 100 on the scale versus a 200.

As of today that means I need to lose 30 more pounds in four months. That is totally doable. I just need to get strict with myself again. I have been anything but strict lately. Skipping workouts and eating chocolate covered pretzels isn't exactly "dedicated". It's time to change things up.

Blah. I hate change.

Joe and I decided to start P90X today. I read over the material last week and we even did the Fit Test to make sure we "qualified". I barely qualified, but qualify I did.

I'm afraid I don't have the most positive attitude in starting P90X. It just seems brutal and brutal isn't for me. But I need to do something different and the program is already sitting in my house. Might as well use it. Plus, Joe said he would do it with me and I will do just about anything to get him on board with this get-healthy journey.

Funny thing is, we were supposed to start today and he headed out of town on a business trip. Looks like it's just me and good ol' Tony Horton. Ugh.

Here I go. Hold me to it! Today is the day I finally start P90X.

(I have my "before" pictures but I'm only willing to show those side by side with the "after" pictures.)

Donuts and Pizza and Ice Cream! Oh My!

We have been off on a little mini vacation this last week. I figured we needed to get in one last hurrah before school started today. We took off to Hometown, Idaho and spent a few days with family and friends.

Any time I write "family and friends" here just feel free to insert "food and food".

Just bypass all the love and laughter and go straight to the food.

Ugh.

I feel like an alcoholic in a bar every time we get together for a reunion or a family get together. Sometimes I can hardly focus on the conversation because I can't stop thinking about the food or how to not eat all the food or what I need to do to avoid the unhealthy food or how many miles I need to run to work off the food I just ate.

It's such a mental "game" and I play it every single time we are gathered together in a familial unit.

Bother.

Since my running routine has been getting longer and longer the closer I get to my 10K and half marathon races, I have justified indulging a little more often. Carb loading, right?

Wrong. My body does not work that way. As my sister so lovingly put it, "Remember that you have fat stored up as a source of running energy. You don't need the extra."

She wasn't being unkind. She was being frank. And frank is what I need. Not frank furters.

My mom has been meaning to show me how to make homemade donuts for months now. That took place this last weekend. I must have absorbed some of the grease as we were frying them up. It couldn't have been the few I ate.

The family reunion we attended had one full table of desserts. I figured the 10K run I had done that morning needed to be rewarded...with rice krispie treats and chocolate cake.

The date night Phad Thai.
The family night pizza.
The late night root beer float.
The cheesy enchiladas at the in laws.

They all came calling and I'm never one to turn someone away.

It's no surprise this morning that the scale said I had gained...Yes, you read that right...GAINED 1.2 pounds back.

Last week I lost 0 pounds. This week I gained 1.2 pounds. This is not going the way I need it to.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

I've been reading a book on how to eat when training for a marathon. And since I'm in the midst of training for a half marathon I figured I ought to experiment upon the word.

And the word is: Carb-loading.

It scares me to death. What's this you say? Carbs are actually GOOD for you? It can't be. I won't believe it. Is it possible???

Let me clarify that this book teaches that "good" carbs are good for carb loading. We're talking whole grains, cereals, carbs in fruits and veggies, pastas, potatoes, beans, etc. Those kind of carbs.

So just like a good little marathoner I carb loaded...on rice krispie treats. Sure, I had loads of energy to get through my five mile run the next morning, but I just don't understand why I didn't lose a single ounce this week...

That's right. I lost 0.0 pounds this week. I think I can understand what those contestants on The Biggest Loser feel when they see a big fat ZERO on the score board. At least it wasn't a gain. At least it wasn't a gain. At least it wasn't a gain.

There is a lesson to be learned here and I do believe it has something to do with eating two three okay! maybe four plus a few more rice krispie treats. My body was craving them! For days I denied myself and then one night I just couldn't handle it anymore.

Ugh! I've got to get my head back in the game. I don't want to see another 0.0 loss next week. I fear that healthy eating will always be a struggle. I just may never conquer it completely. But that doesn't mean I have to give up completely.

You got me this week rice krispie treats, but next week I'm coming back!

Mama Said...

Days like this...

make me...

CRAZY.

I started to type "Days like this make me want to give up!" but I erased that because it's just not true anymore. I don't want to give up. In fact I'm terrified of giving up. I never ever ever never want to go back to who I was a few months ago and I just simple cannot let that happen.

Still, on a journey like this, you have fantastic days where you feel like a million bucks and you feel like you could be president of something if you really wanted to and then you have really rotten meager days like today.

Days where your body and your children and your life are joining forces to make running feel pointless and impossible and stupid.

The baby is screaming.
The three year old is crying.
The older two are bickering.
The sun is too hot.
The running clothes are chafing.
The car needs $700 in repairs.
The house is a mess.
The work is piling up.
The everything and anything are all wrong.

And where you could run for an hour only a day before, all the sudden you can't make it for 20 minutes. There's no way you're going to be prepared for  half marathon, much less a 10K. What were you thinking to make these kinds of goals?! And forget about what a crummy runner you are. How about what a negligent mom you are too? And let's not forget how shoddy your housekeeping skills are. And what about the kind of friend you are anymore. Pathetic. And this...And that... And...blahblahblah.

I suppose these bad days help us to appreciate those great days. At least that's what I keep telling myself in hopes I'll believe it.

Maybe Being Sick Isn't Such a Bad Thing Afterall...

We went camping last week which was so much fun. I hardly wanted to come back. Coming back meant having to face the real world again: bosses, work schedules, school prep, house work, even Facebook and blogging.

Oh and let's not forget...the scale.

Lest you thought that once a girl loses almost 40 pounds she has conquered her twisted love affair with sugar let me testify this is not so.

I caved and I caved BAD.

I tried to be good all week. I ate my veggies. I even brought along cans of V8 to chug when no veggies were available. I didn't have seconds at any of the delicious dutch oven meals. I even tried to steer clear of the community goodie box. But by Friday I had completely given up on healthy eating.

I crammed Milky Way Midnights like a woman obsessed. I had seconds on dutch oven pizza (How is it that everything is so much more delicious in the mountains?). I indulged in carbs, carbs, and more carbs.

Ohhh...I am so ashamed. The entire time I felt like everyone in camp was watching me, scrutinizing me, judging me for every little thing I ate. Now that doesn't sound psycho, does it?

When we got home on Saturday I just knew I had gained 5 pounds. Sure I had gone running twice and hiking once, but there was no way I could come away from all those calories unscathed.

Go figure. The scale was kind.

My stomach was kinder. It got sick. In fact, it got so sick that I had to literally RUN to the bathroom in the middle of the Primary Sharing Time I was teaching on Sunday (humiliating!). I think all that sugar finally caught up with me. I spent the rest of Sunday nursing a Gatorade and laying in bed.

My unintentional *ahem* "cleanse" eradicated my weak week. This week's weight loss: 5.3 pounds lost!

I did it! I lost 40 pounds (Actually 44.1 pounds total!) and broke away from the 240s!!

Can we go camping again?! I do believe my weight loss regimen requires it.

sTResS is an Emotion

In an earlier post I fessed up to being an emotional eater.

Emotions like: sadness, hopelessness, depression, fear, anxiety, happiness... (Yep! She eats when she's happy too, folks.)

And let us not forget STRESS.

Newsflash: I eat when I am stressed.

I hear about people NOT eating when they are stressed and unintentionally losing loads of weight. As much as I wouldn't want their problems that caused the stress in the first place, sometimes I wish I had THAT problem.

Instead of losing weight I find myself packing on the pounds in periods of pressure.

Times like now, when Joe is out of town AGAIN and I am left alone for days on end, but not really alone thanks to these four kids. These four kids who I love more than life itself, but who have a particular knack for driving me into a stress-induced feeding frenzy.

Tonight was particularly trying as bedtime was going later than usual, not less than three children were making some sort of tumult about various issues, I am tripping over toys and shoes strewn across the floor to get to the screaming baby who has been demanding my attention for the last twenty minutes while I try to hurry and finish making dinner or hurry and serve dinner or hurry and eat dinner or hurry and clean up after dinner so the mess isn't ten times worse tomorrow. Just hurry hurry hurry so I can soothe her screams.

Stress, I tell you.

And as that stress builds I can feel that demon inside me demanding one thing and one thing only.

"CHOCOLATE...CHOCOLATE....CHOCOLATE!!! CHOCOLATE NOW WOMAN!!!"

I can hear it even now as I write these words with a particularly alert at such a late hour Cee in my lap.

I am writing this post just trying to keep my mind and fingers busy and ignoring that inner voice, that call of the wild, that Jekyll to my Hyde, that incessant lust for chocolate.

Call a priest. I may need an exorcism.

Lest you thought I forgot...

Hi.

*waves*

Remember me?

I didn't forget.

In fact this little blog and its proclamations of fatty defiance kept me going some days and trying most days. there was one day when I wanted to completely give up, but I knew I just couldn't because I would be just too ashamed to face my 15 followers with the news that I had fizzled out so quickly.

Fizzle I did not. But almost.

See...There's this little thing called emotional eating.

*raises hand* Guilty as charged.

When things begin to get rough, the very first thing I want to do is run into the safe embrace of my refrigerator doors.

I had been doing quite well at my healthy eating this week. It had been really difficult to get any exercise routines in (besides the one half hour of playing Just Dance Wii with the kids that I am TOTALLY counting as exercise) but I had been eating healthy. Very little sugar. Decreased carbs. Lots of fruits and veggies and water.

Then Friday came and I got some rough news.

What was the first thing I did?

Well, after crying a bit, I scarfed down a Milky Way Midnight, my very favorite candy bar.

I don't know why that seemed like a logical thing to do or something that would make me feel better, because immediately after I felt...broken. I had lost some sort of control I had gained over the past couple of days.

The gate had been opened.

The rest of they day I also consumed pizza, three sodas, and a few other unhealthy things.

I felt defeated. One little candy bar David took out this Not-so Jolly Green Giant.

Dumb.

When I weighted myself the next day and saw my weight loss had not been as dramatic as I had hoped (Hmm...pizza, soda, chocolate...Oh My!) I had the nagging thought to totally give up and just resign to being fat forever.

But then I thought of this blog.

Can't do it.

I've got an audience now that's keeping me true to my word.

Dangit.

So...Thanks for following, thanks for spurring me on, thanks for making me embarrassed enough to keep going out of pure shame.

P.S. I have had a couple of people say they want to join me. Honestly, it takes me everything I have just to watch out for my own weight loss progress. I don't have the energy or time to host any kind of "Biggest Loser" contest. Not yet. A little friendly competition would be...good. But I'm not sure how to construct it without getting too overwhelmed or going overboard. Any ideas?

P.P.S. I am down 3 pounds this week. Nothing to write home about, but nothing to scoff at either.

P.P.S.S. I am rededicated today. Exercise, water, and limited calories. On to a better, candy-bar-less week 2!