The Diet Diaries

Did we know how to do anything right in the '70's?

Thanks to a very late night last night (read 3 hours sleep), a morning hike was out of the question. But thanks to a quiet house and a 4-hour nap, I was ready to go this afternoon. Imminent thunderstorms meant I was forced back into the gym, and did that ever translate into some bad television while working out on the treadmill! It was Ahrnold or Police Academy, so I chose to watch the latter. Bad hair, bad clothes, and most definitely bad acting.

I had to back off of such high protein - as good as I was feeling, it was creating muscle spasms, so now I'm focusing on healthy proteins and whole grain carbs with lots of veggies and fruits. So far it's doing the trick, although the weightloss slowed to only one more pound this week. On a happier note, I'm getting ready to do a bigger hike tomorrow as long as the weather cooperates. It's rained off and on all week - very unusual for New Mexico this time of year. I've decided that a 9-year-old is a perfect hiking buddy - he's close enough to the ground to discover the jackrabbits and interesting rocks, small enough to not want to race to the top of the mountain, and young enought to still not be embarrassed to be hiking with mom. We'll see who else I can rope into going with me, but I'm ok either way. Nothing quite like hiking outside - it beats a treadmill or elliptical trainer any day!

This is brief but had to share - I'm down 6 pounds from a week ago. How? Dance Dance Revolution for the Wii, hiking, and cutting the carbs back to a minimum and eating healthy proteins. And while the shed pounds are great, the best part is that the headaches are gone!

Some goofus long gone from the scholastic scene decided that the perfect day to hold graduation for our high school was Mother's Day. So every year, hundreds of families shift their Mother's Day celebrations to attend the graduation ceremony of loved ones. This was our year - and both sets of grandparents and some very dear friends put aside their own plans to join us in witnessing the passage of our oldest from high school.

After a wonderful (read brief) ceremony, we enjoyed dinner out and a long nap. And when evening approached, we climbed in the car and headed for the foothills for a family outing. My husband and older son took off on their mountain bikes, and my little guy joined me in a hike along the foothills of our beautiful Sandia Mountains.

We spied a rabbit scurrying behind some sage, got slobbered on by a very friendly dog whose owner believed that the leash law didn't apply to friendly dogs, and got some needed exercise. My son, who is now nine, made this observation when asked by his father how his hike was. After hiking up the Pino Trail and along the Nature Trail, he said, "I'm surprised by what we did NOT accomplish." He thought we'd get halfway up the mountain in the hour and a half we'd hiked. He was quite disgusted we didn't even make it to the giant boulders littering the trails along the steep climb up the face.

Hope you enjoy the photos!

It used to be a tradition in my husband's former company that a group of employees would meet before the crack of dawn at the base of our Sandia Mountains during our International Balloon Fiesta instead of fighting the traffic down to the balloon fields.  Why?  To climb halfway up the mountain by the time the sun rose and hundreds of hot air balloons decorated the morning sky.  I looked forward to these annual treks up the La Luz trail which topped out at the crest of the mountain.  We usually made the top by early afternoon where we hiked across to the High Finance Restaurant and devoured piping hot burgers before riding the tram back down to the base.

I haven't hiked the La Luz since those treks, but I am setting a goal of hiking up the La Luz to enjoy this year's Balloon Fiesta Mass Ascension in the fall.  At my current weight, there is no way I could make it.  And so I've had to come up with a plan to get me in good enough shape to hike several thousand feet up the face of a mountain.

I met this morning with Lisa Golden, a trainer at my gym here in Albuquerque.  She's a perky, happy blonde, and best of all, she's upbeat and sure that she can whip me into shape.  (We didn't discuss what the final shape would look like, but that's ok.  Anything is better than where I am now - foundering around, completely at a loss of how to get from point B back to point A.) 

We meet again next Monday to set this plan in motion.  She said things about increasing the speed on my treadmill (who knew that's what the up button was for), circuit training and things like working the back muscles, abs and lower body.  I smiled and nodded and acted like I was totally on board, but the Fat Lady inside, well, she was having a fit.  She's had a hard time adjusting to the word no; I can't imagine what she's going to do with words like "one more rep" and "five more minutes at that speed".  No siree, she is not going to be a happy camper at all. 

But I plan to be a happy hiker this fall, so she's just going to have to get on board and like the program.  Because, I, for one, really am excited.

I don't know about you, but I'm far more willing to stick to a diet for health than for beauty. Then again, I was the kid who would rather climb a tree than buy a new flavor of Bonne Bell lip gloss. Two minutes in front of the mirror was one minute too many - 60 precious seconds that I could have spent reading another half page of whatever novel had captured my interest.

And I've found that age hasn't changed me all that much. Yes, my hair (which seems to be gaining a life of its own as I get older) requires a bit more attention, and foundation is now part of the daily routine, but all in all, I'd still rather spend my time with a good book than in front of the mirror. And I've recently started to understand that this attitude has been a large contributor to my lack of commitment to sticking to a diet. I'm ok the way I am, I tell myself. My blood pressure is enviable, I exercise every day, my lab work all checks out. So, really, losing weight is just about looks, and that's not a huge priority with me.

Think again. Those extra pounds may not be changing the lab work just yet, but they will eventually. And anyone who remains overweight for extended periods of time is just asking for a visit from the diabetes fairy (and the gifts that little bugger leaves are far less appealing than a quarter under the pillow from the tooth fairy). Extra pounds really does equal extra risk. And thus a new panic has set in to beat the clock. If being chubby doesn't bother you, ask yourself if a heart attack will. And then don't wait for the heart attack. Get busy now while the getting is good!

I am a big fan of soup, although my family thinks it is just my way of getting rid of everything left in the refrigerator on the weekend (they're not too far off, but I protest loudly and pretend they're wrong).  I recently cleaned out the fridge and came up with one of my best concoctions yet (which means I was able to convince my husband and part of my kids to have a bowl).  In case you enjoy soup, here is the basic recipe - but feel free to substitute with what you have in the pantry and fridge.  Just leave out the jello; that's going a bit too far.

Creamy Green Chile Chicken Soup

• 2 cups chopped cooked chicken
• 1 (16 oz.) can stewed chopped tomatoes, Italian style
• 2 cups low salt beef broth
• 1/2 cup roasted potatoes, cubed
• 1/2 cup sliced mushrooms
• 1/2 cup chopped green chile
• 1/4 cup goat cheese, whisked into soup
• 1/4 cup chopped yellow onion

Heat in crockpot or simmer on stove until thoroughly heated and vegetables are soft.

Approximately 250 calories per serving (4 generous servings / recipe).

Serve sprinkled with grated asiago or parmesan cheese

Once a year a magazine I write for throws a huge party where restaurants and businesses who have been voted "Best of" some category provide samples of the award-winning wares. And as a contributor, I usually get invited to attend. This year was no exception.

The party is tonight, so we leave the kids to their microwaved popcorn and pizza and head out for a free date. In this economy, who turns down a free date?

It isn't until we pull into the parking lot that my husband turns to me and says, "Oh, by the way, tonight you're the designated driver.

What?" I ask, totally surprised. Did I miss a vote somewhere to get elected to this position? Where was I? In the bathroom or pulling a stray hair out of my chin in front of the mirror? I know for sure I didn't get a vote in this particular election.

"Designated Driver. You know - the one who doesn't drink."

I know what it is. But they have the "best of" everything just right inside the doors. What idiot wants to be a designated driver going to party with free strawberry flavored drinks and martinis and wine and and and... really, do I look that dumb?

I don't think so," I say. After all, it's because of me we have the tickets. That gives me the power, right?

Yeah, I called it first," he says.

I wonder when designated driver status took on the same rules as calling shot gun, but I give in.

We wander through the rooms trying such delicacies as tuna nachos (to die for, seriously), peach and salmon hor dourves (also wonderful) and egg rolls (not so good). I have a bite-sized red-velvet cupcake, another bite-sized cheesecake, and spy a few more delicacies which vie for my attention. And all the while, my husband keeps sampling the mai tai (which he threw out), margarita, and other flavored drinks.

And then it hits me. I just saved myself a pile of calories by being the designated driver.

As we drive home, I am no longer sulking at having lost the dibs on trying out the drinks. I'm thinking of just how guilty I don't have to feel about those tiny desserts I enjoyed. After all, I saved a ton a calories.

I might even win bonus points next year and volunteer for the job. After all, there will always be a best dessert winner waiting just for me.