Perhaps the only thing worse than an addiction to food is an addiction to nicotine (edit: okay, so there are a ton more addictions that are worse but, hey, work with me here). I’ve touched upon the topic in previous entries but haven’t felt comfortable expanding on it because I feel like an incredible hypocrite. Eating healthy, literally working my ass off, trying to make the most of my years on this planet, and basically undoing it all with every drag of a cigarette.

I would say I’m about an average smoker, maybe above average. When I wake up at 5am every morning, the only thing I can think of is having my morning cigarette. If it’s a work day, I’ll have one on the way to work. Then another after breakfast. And another before lunch. And then of course the necessary one after lunch. Post-meal smokes were the absolute best. When I’m done with an intense workout, I’ll light up. And of course the last one before bed. By the end of the day I’ve had at least 10-12, even more if I’ve had drinks or go out to dinner with a friend.

The spotlight on my smoking seemingly started to shine even brighter on me after I began my weight loss journey. When I was heavy, maybe friends and family thought I was totally okay with what I was doing to my body. I never complained about my body image out loud, and never expressed the desire to quit smoking.

The other day my boss (a worse smoker than me) asked me, “so, are you doing the weight loss thing for looks or health?” Mostly health, I answered, a tad dishonestly. “So then what the fuck are you doing still smoking? Idiot!” That may sound harsh, but my boss and I have worked together for over 11 years; we have that kind of relationship. He knows I do well with tough love and brutal honesty. And most of all, he was right. 

Quitting had been dancing around in the back of my head for some time, but I made my final decision when I started taking Couch 2 5K seriously. My endurance has been getting better, but what about when it’s time to start jogging for 20 or 30 minutes at a time? The thought seems like a pipe dream with the current state of my lungs. I don’t expect to be magically cured after a few days, but it is the first step.

So what’s my plan? Well, I don’t really have one. There’s the patch, the gum, the pills, the hypnotism, you name it. So far my plan is to “smoke” an electronic cigarette (pictured above) whenever the urge strikes. The white part is the battery and the red things are nicotine cartridges. They’re sold in all kinds of strengths and flavors. I got “light” which contains 6mg nicotine. When I inhale, the tip lights up just like a regular cigarette and I feel a warm vapor enter my lungs.

I’ve been smoking the thing all day at work. Sitting in the conference room with all my coworkers, in my office while working. I also walked out to where I usually smoked and puffed on it like an idiot. After a few minutes I was like, this is stupid. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to because it does not satisfy my cravings like I thought it would. But that’s sort of the whole point, right? Kicking the habit in the least painful way possible, eventually not needing any sort of alternative.

It’s been exactly 12 hours since my last cigarette (I smoked my last one on the way to work this morning) and I’ll be honest. I don’t know if I’m gonna last another day. But I’ll try it for at least a week, and by then maybe I’ll be okay. I tell ya, I think quitting smoking will be so much harder than it was to change my eating and exercise habits. Eating healthy and working out is actually, dare I say, FUN?!

Well, compared to quitting smoking I’m sure it’s a walk in the park.

Is, hopefully, another gal’s treasure. Spending an afternoon purging my closet of clothes that no longer fit is nothing new. Only before, I was making room for larger sizes. Today, I made room for smaller ones. Granted, I am a shopaholic, and whether or not the clothes fit me I would’ve probably been buying new ones at a high frequency anyway, requiring me to start my monthly donate pile.

Today’s cleanout was more difficult than it usually is. I had to make quick decisions about what to keep or toss or else I’d be mulling it over all day and end up keeping it. Only to stash it in the back of my overflowing closet, then mull it over again the next time. Then there was the easy stuff, like my wife beaters. Who the hell needs 30 wife beaters?

It’s funny, I have a small section of clothing that I’ve never worn but have kept for years, waiting until I was “skinny” enough to fit in them. Now they’re either way out of style or are too big for me. Took up all that valuable closet real estate for nothin’! In the donate pile they went. I also have ratty old hoodies and t-shirts that were too big for me even when I was heavier, but for one reason or another they held sentimental value. Those were incredibly hard to get rid of, but in the donate pile they went.

But wait, there’s more! Tomorrow I get to tackle the stuff in my dresser, and all the old winter coats and jackets I’ve got in the hall closet. It sometimes stings a bit that I’m giving away clothes that still have tags on them, but that temporary pain is soothed knowing that a less fortunate, probably chubby and aspiring Reduced Fat Girl is out there somewhere enjoying it.

Last night I had a dream that I was browsing for high heels. Being 5’1″, I love me a good platform pump, but I find them stressful to walk in, so I’ve been opting for lower heeled maryjanes or t-straps. Anything that has straps securely placing the shoe on my foot.

In my search, I found these (left), these, and these that tickled my fancy. I was originally in the market for the black ones, but I loved that turquoise color so much that I put those in my cart too. After all, it’s only a dream, right? And you can do whatever the hell you want in dreams, where no monthly budgets or shopping bans exist.

Except when I woke up this morning and checked my email, I saw that I had an order confirmation from Zappos for these exact shoes that I supposedly dreamt about. Apparently I had straddled the line of consciousness while online window shopping and could not discern dream from reality.

Since I can barely keep my eyes open right now, I am most likely sleep-blogging and will not make much sense going forward. Bob Harper’s Kettlebell Cardio Shred workout DVD kicked my mothafuggin’ ass tonight, so there’s another reason I’m all loopy. Let me tell you, swinging a cast iron kettlebell, with full force, while facing your TV, gave me high anxiety. One slip of a sweaty hand and I’d be sleep-shopping for a new plasma right now. Admittedly, I had to stop a couple times during the workout because it was becoming too much, so I’m going to try it again in a few days, completely, and post a review after.

Ok that’s it. That’s all I gots tonight. Nighty night.

So I had this pair of black, size 12 dress shorts that I plucked out of my closet. It’s hard to tell in the photo but they’re sort of satin, though not quite as shiny. A tad shinier than your basic black dress slacks. It was a relatively warm (read: not freezing) night out, so I paired them with some opaque tights, heels and a casual top, and wore them on my date with Angie.

Shorts and I don’t mix, never have, maybe never will without the aid of tights. I wasn’t quite sure what it was going to look like when I put them on, but I was pleasantly surprised. First of all, the size 12 fit and was even a tad loose. Second-of-ly, I felt incredible. And I never say that about myself. Out loud, anyway. Something about showing all that leg in a subtle way made me feel sexy. I may or may not have walked past the mirror a few times checking myself out.

As an added bonus, the top I wore gave me a discernible waistline. When I was at my heaviest I didn’t know what kind of shape I was. Some people are clearly apples, or pears, or hourglasses. I was just kind of a big-all-over shape. But as I drop the weight I’m beginning to see that I’m actually quite bottom-heavy. Sure, I’ve got big boobs, but man are my thighs thunderous. My ass and calves are quite monstrous as well. Luckily I don’t have cankles.

Anyway, I feel sick and need to go to bed. This entry was much longer than I thought it’d be, but then again it’s truly difficult to get me to shut up. Goodnight!

Shirt: Skiing is Make-Believing Tee [] Size L
Cardigan: Subject of Notebook Cardigan [] Size L
Shorts: Dressy Sateen Shorts [] Size 12
Belt: Don’t remember, but it was from

…might certainly still make you sore as hell all over. My legs hurt. My back and shoulders hurt. My hamstrings want to detach themselves from my bones. And I’m walking with the speed and agility of a 90-year-old with advanced osteoporosis.

Today was just about the laziest day I’ve had in months. The sun was still sleeping by the time I woke up at 7am, and that set the tone for the rest of the day. I got up to eat breakfast, then went back to bed. Got up to eat lunch, went back to bed. Got up for snacks in between, went back to bed. At 3pm I realized how ridiculous I was being, so I changed into my running clothes. And then went back to bed.

Okay, now I was just being stupid. The odd thing was I was excited to start week 4 of Couch 2 5K, even had to talk myself out of doing it yesterday. Despite being frightened to death about jogging for five minutes straight, I was eager to test myself. But my body was rebelling, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

Eventually the mind won, and I completed the workout. There were several instances during the jogging intervals that I wanted to quit, but I dug deep and powered through. I kept thinking about the 200+, 300+ pound people on The Biggest Loser busting ass on the treadmill, so there’s no reason I can’t do it either. The trick here was to never, ever, ever look at the clock. Nothing can discourage me more than huffing and puffing through an interval and looking down and seeing that I’ve still got three minutes to go.

Halfway through the final five minutes of jogging, I thought my legs were going to give up. Ironically, speeding up was the answer. My legs were probably getting bored at the pace I was running. I got down on the mat to stretch when it was all over (speaking of, I keep forgetting to search for proper post-run stretching routines) and I could barely reach my toes. Flexibility was always something I excelled in, even at my heaviest. Yesterday’s workout was tough on my hammies, so I’m thinking I kinda overdid it today.

Tomorrow will be an unscheduled rest day, which fits because Angie and I will be going out for a much needed dinner, drinks and gossip session. I miss that gal!

Anyone who knows me knows that I am the ultimate gadget whore. If it plugs in or uses batteries (snicker), and takes one step closer to making humans obsolete, I’ll take two please. The other day I randomly searched “body fat calculator” online and found several sites where you could enter your stats and it would produce a percentage. Because their data is based on averages, the numbers were all over the place. Then I thought to myself, there must be some type of gadget I could buy that would measure this for me. I thought back to high school gym days and remembered the caliper, but knowing me I’d measure incorrectly and it’d be useless. Plus, it’s not an electronic gadget.

I went to and typed in “body fat calculator,” not really knowing what I was going to get. The first thing that popped up was this video game controller looking thing, and suddenly I remembered. Oh yeah… THOSE things! At $26 and some change, it was a bargain, so I picked one up.

Apparently there is a whole method to using one of these. The top reviewer on the product page said you had to use it three hours after a meal, have a glass of water one hour prior, empty your bladder, then measure your body fat. Other sites have said to use it first thing in the morning. One source said you must be naked while using it. Jesus! I don’t really know which guideline to follow, so I think I will just take a piece of advice from each and use it an hour after my weigh-in morning breakfast, just after I go pee. In whatever clothes I’m wearing. I suppose as long as I’m measuring under very similar circumstances each time, the readings should be fairly consistent.

But enough about that, let’s talk about my body fat percentage. 37.3%?! Holy shiz balls. I wish I knew my % when I started back in May, but I’m gonna guess that the number is really fuggin’ high. Oh well, that’s the past, and here’s to a future me at 25%. ;)

You probably didn’t notice, but I updated the site a bit, moved the weigh-in chart to its own page, and disabled the Progress Photos page for now. I wish I had some decent “before” photos, but as you can understand I avoided cameras like the plague. I’ll try to update the “Before/In Progress” photo on the top right of this page once a month or so. Oh, I almost forgot. Decent weigh-in today. Down -2.6 for a total of -93.7, and I’m officially in the 180s! Woot!