are we there yet?

Not writing, for me, is like standing still while the whole world is moving. The truth is, i am constantly creating. picking out lines. hunting for words in poignant moments. anticipating words to obliterate my concious. These days i spend my time between gadgets, in the limbo of work, in coffee shops, imagining conversations, haunted by muses and demons--redundant ghouls.

My life in flash fiction: Waiting. waiting. Are we there yet?

Verging

Verging, if its even a word, is what i'm feeling right now. I have just recently gone back to the gym and I'm taking small baby steps in getting back into shape again. Now if only i can be as tentative about taking huge bites out of my all-you-can-eat tempura hahahaha.

Seriously, i find that this word is appropriate also for my current realities. I have not written anything for so long it's ridiculous. I consider myself a reflexive writer so it would seem, even if only to me, that i must have been brain dead for the last couple of years. But now all of a sudden, my blood is ablaze for the written word and my poor fingers are dented from trying to catch up. I've recently joined the land of the living through twitter and thus far, i am a minnow in an ocean full of sharks. What can i say, brevity has never been one of my strong suits.

The word is also gaining some speed on the career front. The proverbial 7-year itch has come a-knocking and i find myself inventing the greener grass on the other side.
Ironically, the same can also be said of this very post, as yes, it has really been 2 years since i even thought of this blog.

So here we are, verging...emerging...converging...as if my old perspective picked itself up, dusted off the grime of my self-imposed coma and decided to take me for a walk.

Eating my word

Hokie dokie, so its been over a month since my last post and honestly, I thought there would never be any other. See, I have this little issue called discipline, self-discipline that is, and that is to say, i don't have it, hence the issue.

The first week that i went on my half-rice quest was the hungriest week EVER of my year. It was also the busiest of the month as my boss came down from India and commenced to, as bosses are wont to do and for no apparent reason, breathe down my neck non-stop for three weeks.

As I have the strong propensity to eat when under fire, the cravings began to set in. Oooh little things like the Nestle drumstick (why do they call it a drumstick?), double cappuccinos, Cream-O Premiums (redundancy of chocolate), Royal Tru-Orange, yummy cheesecake and the occasional burger, pizza and beer because I thought I deserved it. It wasn't as bad at first because at least i was still running but frustration went on an all time high when, after that first week of neglect, i stepped on the scales and it showed that I had gained 1.6 lbs. My brain went on the metaphysical equivalent of spinning around the room. 1.6 pounds, really? I had gained. 1.1 lbs more than i intended to lose that first week. I was now 145.1 lbs. Nnnnnooooooooo!

What happened next was inevitable...i went shopping. Zipzip went my credit card (and my husbands--so sorry, John) and splat went my self-esteem. all throughout the weeks that followed I saw both my expense account and my weight slowly (but oh so surely) go in the red. Rice, cups of it, pots and pans of it, was again back on the menu, so was pasta (lotsa lotsa pasta) and the unavoidable ooey-gooey new york cheesecake that i worship.

Grace finally came in two bouts. One, I had not seemed to lose my interest in running. Quite the opposite actually; it was further intensified after having almost literally run into Cattski, an old friend, in I.T. Park and whom I have been running regularly with since. The unwavering interest in running had slowly been fanned to a passion by my just as unwavering best friend Haide's support and encouragement. In the month of July, I had finished two marathons operating mostly on inspiration and friendship.

The second boon came in the person of Xenia Marti, a petite, soft-spoken, elegantly-mannered lady who power lifts on her free time. It might have been on one of our coffee breaks or late night "lunches" when, probably tired of hearing my incessant complaints on how my weight is still the same despite my hardships and sacrifice, XMarti calmly remarked that although my weight has stayed the same my body has not. Then she proceeded to reintroduce me to the concept of fat turning to muscle. Aaaaahhhh Eureka! Of course! It was like a perforated sky had opened up before me. And just like that, i pushed away the remainder of the meal that i had managed not to wolf down and said, check please!

Truth be told, i have not been asking for half cups of rice to go with my meals. Truth be told, i have not been measuring at all. My philosophy, if i ever had one, is to eat when I'm hungry. But with the addition of one word, my total outlook towards food (and yes, yes life too) has been somewhat altered. That word is moderation.

Moderation. I have decided that this small, humble word will be my word for the rest of the year--the word out on my street. My wish word and word of discipline. Moderation will be my appetizer, entree and dessert and yes, my beloved brunch. I figure, with moderation, i can have anything I want out of life, love and all of this good earths gastronomic delights only in less embarrassing proportions.

4 pounds; Big Deal!

MONDAY:

breakfast at 11am (store-bought)

• decaf coffee
• 3 skyflakes crackers (garlic flavor--love those little buggers)
• calamansi juice
• and lotsa lotsa water

I spied a digital weighing scale in a neighboring work station and happily skipped my way over and hopped onto the darn thing. Five seconds, and then, GASP! Heart in throat. Oh freak! The numbers on the screen boldly read 148 lbs. taunting me, daring me to gainsay it. What? So the coffee and the juice had sugar and the traitorous crackers had probably turned to sugar as well in the relaxing environs of my metabolism...but 4 pounds, this was madness! If this is what breakfast can do to me then my lunch will be absolutely devastating.

lunch at 2pm (home-made)

• half a cup of rice (whooppeedoo!)
• 1 mediu...average-sized...ok, fine large-ish chicken cordon bleu
• decided to skip the lemon-butter sauce as was really worried about the 4 lbs from breakfast
• agua, baby

i knew i shouldn't but i found myself wandering back to the digital weighing scale a half an hour later. This time the scale read 148.2 lbs. Huh? How could this be. My uneventful, lackluster breakfast was worth 4 lbs. while the lunch that I'd been looking forward to all weekend was a measly .2 lbs.?

Oh i get it, the damn thing is broken or at least in need of calibration. whew!

Dinner at 6pm (resto across office)

• half a chef salad with dried out grilled chicken bits and some gunky dressing that i suspected to be a truckload of mayo and mustard
• H2O

I had told my friend Joyce about weighing myself about 68 times that day and she said she wanted to weigh herself too. I led her to the offending equipment and watched her face fall (Joyce is VERY VERY weight conscious). "I gained 4 lbs?" she said in a soft, disbelieving voice. "I was 112 lbs. this morning now I'm a hundred sixteen?"

Haha, i was right! " That thing is off by 4 lbs." I said.

"Oh it is?" a guy named Mike piped in. "i was wondering about that, i thought I'd gained weight."

Thirty minutes later, another guy gets on the by-now-much-maligned-machine... i waited for it and was aptly rewarded... "Hah?!? Na-nambok ko? (i gained weight?)"

and this is just Monday....

Half-rice, please...

Ultimately, and as i have come to realize, if I am to lose 30 pounds in the next 5 months and a half, i am going to have to do some major changes in the way i eat. At this point, I laugh my crazy little head off. Watching what we eat is unheard of where I'm from. My family is best known for three things, two out of those three are cooking and eating what we cook. The last one, well, is fierceness--the bolo-brandishing kind that we all inherited from my Lola--but then again, that's for a different story.

Needless to say, dieting, for someone like me is a herculean task and one, i am sure, will be challenged on a daily basis. On the other hand, A little over 6 years ago, I lost 25 lbs. and hit my ideal weight of 105 . Of course i had also lost my job too, my only source of income, and therefore, had to adjust my lifestyle (i.e. no more eating at fancy restaurants) drastically. On top of that I had nothing else to do but finish off my gym membership.

Outside of being unemployed, that was probably the healthiest year of my life (mentally, physically, yada yada). I would run in the morning and go to the gym in the afternoon. I was eating more fish and vegetables simply because meat was expensive. But the clincher, i believe, was the rice. I wasn't consciously trying to eat less rice as much as I was consciously trying to extend the reach of my finances.

So, for this crusade, i figured that's where i would start. Cut the carbs and take it from there. Considering that i have about 5 months to do this, i would need to lose 1.5 lbs a week to hit my mark. I don't know if that's healthy or safe but it seems like a number I can live with. And how am i going to do this, pray tell? By practicing these words: "Half-rice please..."

Big effing deal, right?! But when you're Filipino, that's like saying "keep the change". It doesn't leave our mouths without catching in our throats like a wishbone.

So here we go; first week of pact-with-devil-type mission. Destination, 1.5 lbs lighter by way of half-rice.

Let's hope i can get those words out without choking on them first.

Because I said I would

As i embark on this precarious journey, a conversation i had with a former teacher comes to mind. We were at the pantry of our office bemoaning the fate of the written word and how it has been handed over to the maladroit hands of bloggers the world over. Afterwhich, therefore, we collectively (us and our evil multiples) decided that we would never succumb. "Why would we want everybody to know what we are doing?" We pondered.

And right there is precisely the reason why i am writing a blog--because i want the whole world to know that i am sick of being the "chubby" sister, Ms. oh-but-she's-got-a-great-personality, and having to tell myself over and over that "it's the inside that counts...". But before we call Oprah, i also have practical, albeit vain reasons; because there's a thin girl inside me that's just dying to wear a bikini or at least look good in short shorts and most of all, because shopping for clothes for big women is commercial- grade torture.

So, i made a proverbial-pact-with-the-devil type of promise with my best friend; I, who have been er, overweight for much too long, was to write about my long perilous trek down losersville and i was going to make it public to make it real. While she, who had recently gone rabid about running, was going to tell the whole world about it too.

Because I said I would, and because i have run out of excuses for being fat, here I am! I am going to (try and ) lose weight and come clean about it in public (whether or not i do or don't). Yes, it's a sneaky way to motivate myself but its's also a good excercise on personal accountability, which I would like to think, that I am big on (among other things, and yes, the pun was intended).

To end this, let me start with some vital info that this neo-blogger will endeavor to sink her teeth into while on this mission, while on this blog:


ideal weight: 105-110 lbs

current weight: 144 lbs (shame shame shame)

weight lost so far: 6 pounds since May 4, 2009

body type: big boobs, non-existent hips and saggy bottom

metabolism: fast as molasses

known physical activities: running at least 3 times a week (if it doesnt rain or if i'm
not bogged down by meetings)
walking 15 steps to the office pantry at least 5 times a day
walking to the ATM across my office building (approx. 70
steps) twice a week

diet: 3 square meals a day (with rice)
coffee once a day, decaf
the ocassional snack
and the occasional ice cream cone every 3-5 days

bad habits: mini pizzas and garlic sticks

best weight-gain excuse: my husband eats like a construction worker

worst weight-gain excuse: it's not me it's the pill

food weaknesses: pasta and cheesecake

challenges: repulsed by oatmeal and most cereals, feels ridiculous doing
tae-bo or hip-hop abs (or whatever the current areobic
excercise is), fear of being mugged while jogging or running,
have no idea how to count calories, don't know how to swim,
can't dance, loves to eat and adores restaurants