Here we are, with the first week of the family weight-loss challenge under our slightly looser belts. Time for a status update.
As I posted last week, my sister Terry issued a challenge for all the women in our family to lose weight this summer, or die trying. The winner will get cash and fabulous prizes. I am referring to this dark time of pain as “Celery Summer”
Most of us got off to a slow start because of Fathers Day. I think we all felt that being unwilling to consume mass quantities of fattening foods (or beers, or Sour Apple-tinis) might somehow send the message to the men in our lives that we don’t love them. This rationale made perfect sense to me as I was perusing the menu at my favorite Italian restaurant on Sunday. In retrospect; not so much.
Our sister-in-law, Lisa, joined the challenge as well. I’m so glad! Ever since December, I’ve been worried that she had the mistaken impression that I did not support her weight-loss efforts. Nothing could be further from the truth! Just because of a little post I wrote: “My Sister-In-Law is Ruining the U.S. Economy” , that was no reason for her to think I wasn’t behind her 100%. Now that the president has assured us that happy days are here again, it should be safe for all of us to diet.
I called Libby for a progress report, but it was so noisy where she was that we couldn’t really talk. All I could glean was that she was at Grandpa Tony’s with my Mom & Dad. The place is well known for their deep-dish pizza and extra-thick milkshakes. No doubt some very scientific, secret weight-loss stratagem at work here.
Judy said she didn’t have a scale. That would seem to pose a bit of an obstacle to tracking weight-loss with any degree of accuracy. Perhaps I should point out that she isn’t going to be able to walk away with the grand prize just by claiming her jeans fit better.
Mary Kay will bear watching. Her husband, Pat, is pushing for the win. He’s appointed himself her trainer, and is cracking the whip with gusto. He drags her out of bed before dawn each morning for what he calls a “brisk walk”, but which sounds more like the Bataan death march. I may have to call Adult Protective Services to make sure he’s letting her eat.
Mom went to Weight Watchers and lost 4 pounds. What’s with the sensible eating plan? The sneaky devil!
I haven’t heard from a couple of sisters. Which means one of two things:
a) They haven’t really entered into the spirit of the thing yet or
b) They’re lurking in the weight-loss weeds, chewing their celery in silence and lulling us into a false sense of security.
As for me, I won’t lie. It has been tough. I managed a shmeezly 3 pounds loss, which isn’t much considering all the painful deprivation I’ve suffered.
The big culprit is my raging sweet tooth. Last night at around 11 I was searching the cupboards for something sweet. All I could find were mini-marshmallows and stale graham crackers, probably left over from my junior-high scout camp days. I still ate them, fantasizing about the chocolate needed to make them into s’mores – pitiful! I considered a snack run, but that would have involved putting on a bra and changing out of my comfy, 20-year-old, holes in the crotch, painted-the-living-room-in-them sweats. Only deeply ingrained laziness saved me from my yearnings for Ho-hos. I may have to start going to bed around 6pm to avoid the late-night munchies.
Today I found the hidden little Dove candy bars I had bought in the before-times (2 weeks ago) for the office candy dish. This is a business office, for goodness sake, not Willy Wonka’s shop! Executive decision: no more candy dish.
Late breaking news flash from Lisa. After joining the fray late, she has already lost 8 pounds. Damnation!
I’ll keep you posted on our progress. In the meantime, I’m off to the YMCA to burn off some Dove bars. Then I need to do some online research. Anyone know how to send a candy gram?