Tag Archives: lchf

Too Comfortable

I have this thing, this issue, this constant. When *xyz* gets going good, I get comfortable, get cocky, get way too sure and boom! everything falls apart.

I almost always weigh and measure my food to track it. LCHF life. Totally worth it. But I know there’s a future date out there where I’ll say it’s okay to NOT weigh because I’ve got this and that becomes another day and another and then pounds creep up on me. And break. Rewind. Redo. It’s a vicious cycle.

In writing I write daily when my story is sparkly and new and I love everything about it. I’ll plug along until mid-point and sleep in one morning then another and another…and before I know it I’ve barely written words in a month or more, and I’m in love with lazy wordless mornings.

Work is the same. Working out is the same. Washing my face every night is the same. Taking my daily vitamin? Check.

It’s just my norm.

Now that I KNOW that, it’s something I can tackle. Intentional eating, meditation, workouts, planning. Intentional LIFE.

I can do it!

Shout out to the book Atomic Habits for helping me process this! If you haven’t read it, you should.

What I’m Loving: DGD’s 4th birthday ❤️, hot tea, Saginaw Night Writers, spending time with DH, making my I Want list

What I’m Writing: So Much For Happily Ever After

Just Dance

My entire life I’ve wanted to dance.

Way back when I was a kid our school’s dance team was the best. Every girl I knew wanted to dance for them. The process to make the squad was brutal and the girls who did it worked their butts off all year long. A lot like dance teams today.

I didn’t know anything about dancing.

When I was little dancing wasn’t allowed. By the time I reached high school dancing was allowed but frowned on.

It didn’t matter, though, because even if I COULD have danced, I can’t. Dance. Not a bit. I have no rhythm. Elaine on Seinfeld’s a better dancer than me.

That didn’t stop me from trying.

Not that I would have been able to do anything with dance team if I could have danced. Their skirts were too short and that was very important to my elders back in the day. Funny the things that mattered back then.

Anyway, there’s no happy ending to that part of the story. I didn’t have some amazing Footloose moment and sock it to the religious patriarchy with their no-no-nos and dance my heart out under the Friday Night Lights. Like I said. Can’t dance.

Fortunately my late teens/early 20s were spent in the 80s when the ability to dance in the clubs on college night just meant you could jump around for hours and shout the words they wouldn’t play on the radio and do the Cotton Eyed Joe. I could Cotton Eyed Joe with the best of them. But that’s not real dancing. I mean not real dancing the way I did it.

Flash forward to a few years ago when I saw this new class at the Bill Bartley Y. Zumba. I love Zumba with every ounce of my being. I can’t dance, but I can Zumba. Everyone can Zumba.

I Zumba’d for the first time in a long time tonight.

I’ve been Sweating’ to the Oldies. Everyone can do that too, but, sorry Richard, it’s just not as fun.

I’m listening to Atomic Habits, and the author James Clear talks about announcing your intentions. About saying what you are going to do out loud even if you’re alone in a room. Giving voice to your intentions makes you far more likely to get them done.

So here I am. Announcing my intentions. I’m going to dance. I’m going to dance Zumba style. And who knows? Maybe one day I’ll find my rhythm.

What I’m Loving: Zumba, duh! Atomic Habits, Diet Dr Pepper, Dumplin‘, LCHF

What I’m Writing: So Much For Happily Ever After (hit 52k today!)

 

 

 

 

Great Week

I loved this week so much. A big part of that was two Dallas Stars games, but it was more than that.

The Calm app is so helpful. I can’t wait to see the positive influence on my attitude during a work week.

Moving more, breathing deeper, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel of DH splitting time between here and Wichita Falls. All of that added up to making a good week.

I’ve lost 11 pounds since Thanksgiving. LCHF works when you love it instead of playing at it. That also made a good week.

We took the train to the second Stars game this week, and I LOVE the train. That made for a good week.

I wrote more and read more and played more. It was the perfect way to spend the second week of winter break.

Looking forward to Monday!

What I’m Loving: The TRE from Fort Worth to AAC, Sundance Square, the Dallas Stars, Sweatin’ to the Oldies, LCHF

What I’m writing: So Much For Happily Ever After

Goodbye 2018

…You weren’t all bad, but man oh man did you stink.

Fortunately the sucky parts of life lead to big lessons. For me the lessons were mighty.

1. The outside chaos becomes inside chaos if I let it. I’m addicted to news and have been my entire adult life. The outside chaos of the Trump administration led to a lot of real emotional damage in my heart and mind. The hate and human rights atrocities compound day after day.

At the state level the Texas government is set to destroy public education. Texas is not alone, but Texas is where I live so Texas is my constant and it just floors me to see educators who insist on voting for these awful people because they’ve been bamboozled by culture war spewing hate mongerers.

Solution: limit the news input and work on changing things instead of letting things simmer. Give to candidates and causes, block walk, talk to people and help where I can.

2. Grief needs time and space and rushing through it to get back to “normal” will reach out and smack me in the face.

Solution: own my emotions, embrace them, walk in them and trust that God will get me through. Don’t “fake it till I make it” because that just leads to a breakdown.

3. Goals aren’t key. Goals end when I reach them and I switch back to what came before. (See NaNoWriMo, weight, starting over…the list is never ending).

4. Embrace the good: I have a new granddaughter 😍, Brian and I get to see each other more over break, my students rock, I enjoy my job, the list here is also never ending and I need to give thanks daily.

5. Meditation matters: This is new for me. I mean I’ve meditated before but not consistently. The Calm app is making this easy and it makes an incredible difference.

6. Affirmations make a difference and negative self-talk destroys. It’s easy to fall into negative self-talk, at least it is for me. I have to make a conscious effort to change that and I am doing so.

7. Be happy with me where I am even though I want to be better. This one is huge and something I am working on daily. I like me. I like my life. I like what I have to give to the world.

I’m glad to let 2018 go and I’m looking forward to 2019.

Currently reading: Atomic Habits

Currently Writing: (working title) So Much For Happily Ever After

Currently loving: DoTERRA On Guard mouthwash, cauliflower pizza crust, Dark Shadows TV show on Amazon Prime and Within Temptation’s Resist.

Low Carb Helps

I’m a week and half in to my LCHF eating, back on track after months of not worrying about my diet.

10 days.

My acid reflux is gone.

My mood is significantly better.

My menopause symptoms are gone.

I’m thankful for all of that. But the biggest change is in my ankle.

It could just be time after cortisone a month ago, but I think it’s more than that.

My ankle was impinged. Doc said he couldn’t say exactly why, but we were going to try cortisone and if that didn’t work we’d move to exploratory surgery. My ankle is filled with hardware so MRIs can’t tell us anything.

The cortisone made a HUGE difference, but I still had to wear compression socks and boots.

Last Saturday I noticed the pain was gone. Yesterday I had full ankle mobility for the first time in months.

I’m not a doctor, but it’s pretty great that I feel better across the board AND the inflammation in my ankle is gone.

I have an ugly relationship with food. Low Carb helps with that. Hopefully this helps even more!

My Name is Mary Beth Lee, and I’m a Sugar Addict

Weight.

Weight.

Weight.

Weight.

“I don’t care. I’m eating creme brûlée.”

That’s how it started last December.

Who am I kidding? It started when I was four. I still remember seeing my picture and thinking man, I’m fat.

But this iteration of my addiction started last December 17.

Two and half years into a low carb lifestyle, solid size 10 and holding I went to Vegas with hubby for our anniversary.

On the flight there I told him I was eating creme brûlée. By the time we landed I’d decided to put my eating plan on hold.

Again.

Even though low carb loving me has a ton more energy, can maintain my weight, has the best blood work, has no arthritis pain, breathes better and rarely gets sick.

But, I told myself, it’s no big deal. It’s four days in Vegas. I can handle it.

And, I sort of did.

The thing is, after that, those “breaks” happened a little more often. A piece of chocolate here, mashed potatoes there, chips and hot sauce and queso. Tamales. Margaritas.

You know. Little celebrations where food became my go-to instead of my fuel.

And I mostly maintained. I gained 10 pounds over six months, but I could drop that in a month with dedication and exercise.

That’s what I told myself as I took out the size 13s and 14s.

And then my father-in-law’s terminal cancer turned into a dark, dreaded awfulness. The every two week trips became weekly back and forth from Ft. Worth to Lawton. DH stayed there mostly. Life was a waiting game and fast food and family and stories and shared desserts and visiting and mourning and trying to stay positive and knowing the inevitable end was here.

When my father-in-law passed away,) I vowed to get it together, get back on plan, take care of myself.

The 10 pounds had become 20. The 14s, 16s.

I banned sugar from my existence. I got my flu shot.

My voice disappeared for three weeks. The first week was a weird laryngitis. The next two weeks were filled with the kind of sickness where chicken noodle soup seems like the perfect answer. Adding a piece of carrot cake to that McCallister’s order was just medicine.

The 20 pounds became 30.

And of course, that weight destroyed my body. Arthritis reared its ugly head. My ankle impinged. I had to use a scooter to get around.

You’d think THAT would be my wake up call. It took about three weeks more for me to get my head straight.

My relationship with food is all kinds of messed up. It has been my entire life. I know that. My body chemistry is different from the norm. As my doctor says, I need to steer clear of white foods. 😊

It’s not “fair,” it’s a pain in the neck to eat with friends, it’s life without ice cream–and don’t even get me started on devil’s spawn Halo Top, that slippery slope to sugar hell.

I can wish all day that working out was the answer. It’s not enough for me. Neither is simple calorie reduction.

One thing works in a way that is healthy for me. No short cuts. No “time off.” No sushi.

I started this blog a bajillion years ago with the plan to focus on weight loss, writing and family. I have no idea how many pounds I’ve lost and gained, but let me tell you, I am expert level at both.

That’s got to stop.

I know it.

So here’s to me losing weight while getting healthy, again. If we’re friends in real life, I hope you won’t be offended when I turn down the M&Ms or your homemade cupcakes or those Christmas tamales. My body needs me to say no.

First training session 

OMG.

Today I learned how to do a squat. The trainer, Shane, told me I’d be doing this, and I laughed at him. Yeah right.

If you know me you understand.

But no, really, today I did squats. 

And I learned how to bend and sit.

If you’re someone who knows this stuff, it looks pretty easy.

If you’re me…OMG.

I didn’t actually realize how hard I was working until it was time to leave and I had to walk again. Lol.

My knees are jelly now. 

I’m proud of me, and I’m thankful for the trainer who says “You’re not broken” while he helps me start down this road to strength and real mobility.

*cool thing about the trainer: he did his master’s at MSU. Yay Midwestern!

Gym Time

When I was nine we moved to Texas.

What I remember from that time: every girl could do a cartwheel and most wanted to be  cheerleaders. I could not do a cartwheel, but I did want to be a cheerleader.

In junior high we started gym classes. Nothing in my junior high world was worse than gym. 1. I was overweight. 2. I couldn’t run, shoot baskets, serve volleyballs, hit softballs, do cartwheels, climb ropes or any of that awfulness. I did love that parachute thing we bounced a ball around on, and scooter races were always fun. 

Today I went to the gym I joined before leaving on vacation. I’ve been one other time. That was to meet with the trainer last week.

The trainer told me I have a mental block where athletics is concerned. He thought it might have been because of a bad coach. But it isn’t that. I LOVED one of my junior high PE teachers. She absolutely believed in me. She believed in all of us. 

I don’t really know what the problem is. 

But I know the trainer is right about my mental block.

I know because I have to psych myself up to drive up the road to go, and then I have to psych myself up to get out of the car and go inside.

Today I sat in the parking lot and told myself to stop being so ridiculous.

And then I took this selfie.


I told myself one day I’d look back at the photo and laugh.

But I don’t know. I look at it now and don’t really feel very funny.

A million moons ago I started this blog because it was January, I’d started a diet and I wanted to develop my writing voice.

Going to the gym is just part of the story.