The End of Week Thirty-Three

Ah… another week and more weight loss. It appears that by telling myself I didn’t care if I lost any weight caused me to lose 2 1/2 pounds. I’m hoping that if I tell myself to gain a couple that I’ll lose even more. At this point I don’t  care how irrational things sound – it’s whatever it takes.

Down a few pounds and  I have a nice, sore bruise on my left calf. I got it from trying to swing my legs up and over some damned bars twenty-five times while hanging from my forearms. That was Wednesday and it’s still sore. Flexibility has never been my strong point to begin with and there are certain movements that just ain’t gonna happen – but I finally did manage it a few times. The other twenty-two resulted in an altogether new type of pain as I banged the end of it instead of swinging over it. I swear the Marquis de Sade thinks up these damned things.

On a positive note, though, I actually did do it. I’ve tried at least once a week since first trying it months ago – never getting my legs up high enough. If the gymnasium gods are willing, the next time I’ll do it a few more times and won’t be quite as bruised. Now that I know the pain involved, there’s a lot of incentive to get it done right.

Victor banged his knee on Monday and was favoring it a bit during some of the exercises, but he worked through it, as well. Ya just keep doing what ya have to do.

This is why we have a personal trainer. Not to cause pain, but to push us to do things we wouldn’t otherwise do. I don’t see myself going back repeatedly to try and do something on my own. I just don’t. I need him to keep pushing me when I don’t want to do it. Which is all of the time. I really don’t want to do it – even though I see the results, feel the results, and know it’s the best thing I’ve done for myself in years. Left to my own devices, I’d bake cookies.

And he does keep pushing. And I’m not baking cookies. And we’re both losing weight. And feeling better – albeit sore in places…

I think the smartest thing we did was to commit for a year. It would actually be pretty easy to tell ourselves we’ve more or less achieved our goals so we could slow down and relax a bit. Forty-five pounds is a lot of weight to lose. However, it has become more than weight loss – it’s about actual health and well-being. And we’re committed to seeing it through – and feeling better, stronger, and just being healthier.

Tonight, it’s pasta night at our house. Homemade spinach pasta. As I have mentioned many times, nothing is off limits around here. Victor made a pretty big batch last week and after making cannelloni and ravioli, the rest went into the freezer. It came out this morning and he turned it into linguine.

The joys of being married to an Italian…

He made a fairly basic scampi-style sauce. He started by cooking the shrimp shells in olive oil, garlic, and white wine. He cooked it all down, and then strained it. From there, he quickly sauteed the shrimp and then added the wine sauce, lemon zest, lemon juice, parsley, crushed red pepper, and a pinch of salt and pepper.

He quickly cooked the pasta and then mixed it unto the sauce with a bit of butter and freshly grated parmesan. He had saved a bit of pasta water just in case it needed some – but it was perfect as-is.

Very simple but just loaded with flavor. I completely cleaned my plate – and was borderline close to licking it clean, as well. It really was good.

Nineteen weeks left before we’re on our own.

We can do it.