My thyroid is OK, I guess. I'm back on medication. More tests in eight weeks. I'll return to our regularly scheduled blogging very soon.

I had been benching using a 40-lb. bar - the kind with the weights already attached - but today as I whipped through a set of those, my trainer said, "No way, missy. That's crap. Get over here." After three presses with the bar, sans weights, she said, "Clearly I underestimated you," and stuck 10-lbs. on the end of each side of the bar.

Now I know in theory bench pressing 75 pounds isn't a big deal, but trust me it feels like a big deal. At least it is to me. I've never been able to lift that much, and my weights are increasing every week. At some point I'm going to have to stop saying that I hate weight lifting because it's the majority of what I'm doing in the gym and I, well, I love it. Lifting weights, and seeing how it's transforming my body, is giving me an appreciation for what my body can do in a way that losing all that weight didn't do.

Here's the thing: losing weight made me thinner, and it uncovered a whole slew of body image issues I wasn't really prepared for. Lifting weights has shown me something new to try and love about my body, as opposed to hating or feeling self-conscious or apologetic for not taking up as much room anymore.

I feel strong. I am strong. I have a real bicep muscle! Look at that!

I lost another pound last week, and that was with my period. I'm still watching my diet pretty closely, though yesterday was an eating bacchanalia with things such as french toast sticks and fried chicken. Honestly, nearly everything I ate yesterday touched hot oil at some point. I'm paying for it today, but it was a nice treat. I weighed in at 141 pounds in case you're playing along at home.

The ear infection really curtailed my running efforts last week. I ended up staying at home sick for two days, and when I tried to do the cardio climb of death, my ears plugged up and I started hacking. I kept away from any serious cardio until this morning. And my thyroid issue is making me exhausted, so I'm not running on top of everything else.

If it was warmer out I'd be more irritated but since it's still cold here in Chicago, I'm not losing sleep.

So remember back in January my levels had dropped to 3.34? No? OK, well, they did. Down from 6.682. Guess where they are now?

5.84. You'll note that the high end of the considered normal range is 3.0. I was so close, wasn't I?

At least I know I wasn't crazy for feeling as though something was up. I'm telling you, folks, no one knows your body better than you, and if you think something is amiss, go with your gut. My levels certainly aren't as high as they were a year ago, but they got pretty frickin' high in just four months. I'll call my doctor tomorrow, we'll try a new medication, I'll get tested after three months, ascertain how I'm feeling, and then I'll do some serious thinking about what my next move should be. I won't keep doing this for the rest of my life. We need to figure out a game plan for taking care of this.

I'm still pretty exhausted, but I'm keeping up. I haven't worked out since Monday, but that's because of the whole ear infection thing, nothing else. I'll be in the gym tomorrow as I think the worse has passed. I won't be doing 90 minutes of kickboxing again, but, you know, lifting and the cardio death circuit. I'm hoping the ear infection won't interrupt as it has been, but I can work through that and I'm pretty certain it's clearing up.

I'm looking forward to a nice, long, hard, sweaty workout.

In other news, I lost another pound. That's five pounds in the four weeks since I've kicked up my lifting routine, and in spite of the elevated thyroid levels. I weigh myself once a week and that's what it's saying. Even without the scale, I can feel that lose in my jeans. Nothing is tight anymore, which is nice now that it's warmer.

I really didn't want to buy all new summer clothes. My closet taunts me no more!

Admittedly I know that in light of what the elevated thyroid has done that I've been pushing myself extra hard. I won't say that the weight gain and the exhaustion hasn't been a motivator to keep at it, even on the days I don't wanna. But my health has become really important to me and it's worth the effort if takes to keep me healthy. And it sucks that it takes that much effort but I can't change that. Only continue to work at it.

But I have to tell you: I'd be really happy with a pill that would bring me back down to normal.

UPDATE: Ugh. Unlike in the past, my doctor wants me in her office. I got a call from her nurse this afternoon, as opposed to the doc herself, and she requested an in-person follow-up. Is an endocrinologist in my future? I don't know why this makes me so nervous, though it's probably a really good thing as a specialist might help nail down why my levels are fluctuating.

Anyone else experience this? Drop me an email.

The latest Jenny Craig commercials came on, featuring Queen Latifah.

Is it just me or does she seem painfully awkward in those spots? I had to get up and leave the living room it was so terrible to watch. This is a woman who was nominated for an Oscar so it's not like she can't act. It's almost as if she's mortified they're making her say those words for that awful campaign. "Size Active." Lord in heaven. You can be active at ANY size, JC.

Honestly, it's as though she's figured out how lame the whole thing is and is just gritting her teeth through it.

You all know I've been lifting all winter. With the new routine devised by my trainer, and four lifting sessions per week, I'm stronger than I've ever been. I'm seriously considering taking pictures of my arms for you. I'm not sure what clicked - and it wasn't the new muscle definition as that's only a recent development - but I've gotten really into strength training.

But I've always defined myself as a runner. Not a fast runner - though it's true I've gotten faster by no real effort on my part, other than I've just been at this a while - or a competitive runner - though it's true I'm always looking to lap someone out there - but a runner nonetheless. After discovering for myself last year the joys of running outside, running indoors on a treadmill was the worst experience ever. Completely took the joy out of the one thing that brought me the most joy.

And I'll tell you that me and my fancy running gear were ready to run outdoors this winter had Chicago not been hit with one of the worst winters we have ever had. I've lived here all my life. I don't remember it ever being that cold or icy or snowy.

All this is to say that I'm out of the habit of running. I'm thankful I was able to find something else to occupy my workout time with - again, for real, I'm actually strong for the first time in my life - but it's warming up again and it's time to get back to running. The thing is, I don't want to abandon my weight training whatsoever. In fact, we're adding on a fifth day of training. All that plus an hour of hard cardio kickboxing mixed in there and it doesn't leave a lot of time or energy for running.

Running has always been my main form of exercise and I've always approached it as such. It just happened to make me happy, too. but now my focus has shifted, and my exercise is in the gym, lifting weights and grunting up a stupidly high incline, sweating buckets. So now I suppose I need to view running as less of a measure of exercise, and more something I do on the side a few times a week. And for as much as I love lifting now, I really don't want to lose the running ability.

How do you balance all of this you athletes out there? I know this means that my ability to run long distances may be compromised - though let's be honest, I've never been interested in more than six miles at a click anyway - but does that matter?

This week I'm going to make myself get out there at least three times to get back in the swing of things, even if it's at a slow pace.

In other news, I went in on Friday for more thyroid testing. When I hear something, you'll hear too.

"This getting old business is for the birds," she leaned over and whispered to me today.

To be fair, this is a lady who last week was mowing her own yard with a push mower. Gas powered, but still. My grandmother is in such great shape, we should all be so lucky.

Here is the thing: when I talked to her the other day, days before she was in the hospital, she told me that my dad, JP, had told her that I was "as thin as you've ever been," she said. "He said you really look terrific." I sorta hemmed and hawed in response, not knowing what to say. In an attempt to put my personal politics about words such as "thin" completely aside, there was no choice for me to take that as anything other than a compliment, no matter how much I wanted to protest. "Oh, Gram, I just eat well and take care of myself is all." And it's true. I really do. But in those instances such a response just feels like a code word for "Seriously. I'm still so fat."

As soon as I'd walked into her room today, we talked for about two minutes before her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she said, "You really do look beautiful honey. You really are so thin." And I can assure you, I didn't have to worry about my complicated feelings about language to know that she wasn't reinforcing any ideas about feminine ideals or that I'd finally lived up to some expectation of beauty. She simply saw a happy and healthy me. A person who, yes, is thinner now, but who looks better as a result of a healthier lifestyle. The look on her face was so pure and unadulterated - like she was caught off guard - and she was just happy that I looked good.

Sometimes I think I get so wrapped up in the idea that I have to apologize for what I've done - because others didn't do it, couldn't do it, or chose not to - that I have to laugh. It's OK to be happy because I am healthy now. It's OK to be pleased with my appearance. It's OK to be proud, even, for having lost weight and continued to improve my body. Once in a while, it's OK to let your grandmother compliment you for being thinner than you've ever been and not feel like you're betraying any particular ideals - yours or anyone else's.

1) Low-carb tortillas
2) Mushrooms
3) Scallions
4) Basil

I thought pizzas. All I needed was some goat cheese and some pizza sauce. So I headed over to Trader Joe's. I was going to grab a regular ol' marinade but I noticed a fat-free pizza sauce on the shelf. It was the only pizza sauce on their shelves, and while I'm leery of fat-free ANYTHING, I decided to give it a go.

Holy smokes was I glad I did! Not only did I cut out all of the extra additives and calories of a regular pizza sauce, but it wound up being ten times tastier, too. And while the tortillas were a bust in terms of being able to hold the ingredients well, I've switched those out for whole-wheat pitas. If you have a broiler, these are a STUPENDOUSLY fast and easy meal, low in fat and able to carry whatever veggies you have at your disposal. I HIGHLY recommend using soft goat cheese and using a fork to "shave" it on top.

So there you go: Trader Joe's Fat-Free Pizza Sauce.

The other thing I picked up at Trader Joe's was Better than Peanut Butter. For YEARS I've been avoiding this stuff like the plague for logical reasons: what product, I ask you, would have the nerve to even make such a statement, let alone name their product with such a phrase. Plus, I find the idea of fake food - soy substitutes notwithstanding - a bit nauseating. For me it's always felt like there were a group of food scientists in basement, plotting with the sorts of people who try and con us into believing that a size 8 is fat, and resurfacing with pretend foods for all of the fatties.

But, as I've said, I'm really trying to make a more conscious effort with my food, and while you won't see me swapping out every high-calorie indulgence (even the reduced fat, natural peanut butter I've been eating for years remains high in fat and calories by comparison), I do miss the consistency of peanut butter with my daily Granny Smith. I have to admit? The Better Than Peanut Butter may not be better than the real thing, but it doesn't taste like self-hatred in a jar.

I woke up and headed to the gym on Saturday for two straight hours. I took kickboxing and then did all of my upper body work, followed by the cardio drill from hell for 15 minutes. When I got home, I ate both a breakfast AND a dinner and slept for almost an hour. I don't regret working out that hard - I don't usually have a Saturday to devote that much time in the gym, and it feels like a necessary indulgence once in a while when I can shake it - but I don't think my body appreciated it. I'm inclined to believe that being off my thyroid medication did not help matters, which is why I conked out. I'm in decent shape - a hard workout shouldn't cause me to sleep almost immediately. But it did.

I swear to God, my whole insurance snafu better straighten out this week because I really need to get back on the medication.

I'm running later this afternoon so I'm not beating myself up over five minutes.

I was talking with some friends about miscalculating weight loss efforts - underestimating food intake, overestimating exercise output - and a look at my workout logs attests to that. I didn't do nearly as much cardio as I thought I was doing - perhaps I oughta actually pay attention to those logs and act on them sooner, huh? While I do believe the insane incline drills are what has pushed off some of this recent weight loss, along with bike commuting a couple of days a week, I've also gotten much stricter on myself with my meals, forcing myself to make really healthy choices when I'd rather take an easier route.

I miss the natural peanut butter with my afternoon apple, but I'd always rather have those extra calories somewhere else. My veggie subs don't really need cheese. Stuff like that. The things that aren't particularly bad choices whatsoever, but can add up. If I really wanted them, I'd have them, and just cut in other places.

In thyroid news, next week I go in for follow-up testing because I learned last week, when I originally intended on going, that my insurance had refused to pay for the testing back in January. It's since been resolved, but it meant that I've been off my thyroid medication for a week. Yesterday, after I operated on six hours of sleep - which is never good for me, even when I'm on my medication - I crashed. Felt that absence of the Synthroid HARD.

Tomorrow will be upper body work and kickboxing. Sunday will be running, maybe some yoga. I have a house to clean and work to do this weekend so the yoga may lose out!

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

Looks like the five-mile run will happen after work, once my muscles loosen up a bit. I'll be doing lots o' stretching today.

Another note about the Open-Faced veggie sandwiches: I don't know why I thought I should even bother with the fat-free cheese, as if somehow in the several years it's been since I'd tasted that garbage they'd find a way to improve the taste and texture. It was ass on a plate, everyone, and don't even bother. Since I still don't have a cheese substitute, today I'm going to swap out the fat-free cheese for some grated Parmesan. I don't imagine it'll change the POINTS value at all if you want to try it at home.

Other than the rubbery nonsense I'd subjected myself to, the lunch wasn't half bad. I probably won't make this dish again, but I wanted to use those veggies and this was a quick way to do it. I'm tossing out the cheese, by the way, because it's not as if I'm going to find a better use for it.

Today and tomorrow promise to be beautiful so I'm commuting to work via bike. I hooked up a rack to the bag, which means I won't have to wear my messenger bag, which will hopefully make the journey a bit more manageable. It's a great way to get to work, though. Despite traffic, it's actually pretty relaxing and it's nice to get a little extra exercise.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph it's about time.

It's not as if I am so stubborn that I wouldn't have purchased a bigger pair of jeans - though not in these jeans since they cost about $150 - but I would so that I'm not faced with a summer in black pants. I'm not ridiculous. Still, it's nice to feel as though there might be an end in sight, or at least a break.

In other news, I'm trying out a new (old) Weight Watchers recipe I found when I went hunting through my cookbooks last night, trying to find something from which I could use the veggies in my house. I haven't eaten it yet, and foolishly (and accidentally) I grabbed the fat-free cheese at the store (grumble), so I can't vouch for its tastiness. Still. All those veggies sauteing in my house smelled great.

Open-Faced Veggie Sandwich
(For the WW folks, it said 5 POINTS in the book, but I had to use what I had in my house so I think mine might be a little lower, maybe like 3.)

4 slices of Natural Ovens Sunny Millet bread
2 cups of zucchini
2 cups of yellow squash
1 cup of mushrooms
1 cup of roasted red pepper
3 garlic cloves (I like garlic, your mileage may vary)
1 tsp of dried basil
1 tsp of black pepper
1 tsp of salt (the recipe calls for this but I don't use salt)
4 slices of tomatoes
1 cup of fat-free cheese

Spray pan, get hot. Saute the veggies together. I started with garlic, then mushrooms, then the squash and zucchini. I left the red pepper and seasonings till last. Cook until soft.

If eating per serving, toast one slice of bread lightly. Place one slice of tomato on the toasted bread, then top with some of the vegetable mixture. Sprinkle 1 Tbsp of cheese, broil. Eat.

Like I said, I can't vouch for this just yet but I think it sounds delicious in theory and makes use of a whole mess of vegetables. It makes enough for four servings, but watch out since a one slice constitutes a serving.

Seriously that woman is kicking my behind. It's all very inspirational working with her. She's got me doing these stupendously hard incline drills on this Nordic Track treadmill that, if you've got access to this particular treadmill and are in need of an ass kicking, I HIGHLY recommend it.

Today's drill was me walking at 2.0. No biggie, right? Well, the incline was set at 25.0 for three minutes. Most people set the incline at 1.0, tops. The next three minutes are still at 2.0 with the incline up to 35.0. After that, it's 1.0 walking at 50.0 incline for three minutes, working back down to 25.0 the same way you came up, so to speak, for a full 15 minutes. People, it's ridiculously sweat-inducing and hard and if you all don't start trying it you're crazy. Honest to God, if you need a kick in the pants, something to change it up, this cardio drill is for you.

I stepped on the scale Friday and saw that I'd lost 2.5 pounds last week as a result. At least I think that's why.

I was not good at keeping up with my work outs. I drank too much Friday night and had to spend all day baking cupcakes for my sister's birthday so I completely skipped the gym. Another day found me, unexpectedly, driving a total of 10 hours for a work-related event and there was nothing I wanted to do less after 10 hours in the car than work out.

So we try again this week. There really isn't anything that should keep me from getting all of my work outs in - four sessions with weights (one down) and a kickboxing class. In between all that will be some running with my dog and bike commuting to work. I'd really like for a week to go by and just stick with the schedule. Sometimes life just doesn't let you.

Wednesday is my day off so I'll be heading in to the doctor to get more blood work done. Hopefully my results will show something positive. Hopefully we can switch up my medication. My clothes all fit just fine, but I'd like to be able to eat a meal and not have it impact the feel of my waistband against my stomach.

I'm telling you, I feel those extra pounds. Being neatly in a size 10 is not as nice as a comfortable one.

I missed spinning this morning by two minutes. TWO MINUTES. They'd locked the doors on me. Now, the door is as such where you couldn't see me standing there, and the music is so loud no one could hear me knock. I wasn't going to be an ass - I was late, that's what happens. A locked studio door is the universal sign for "No spinning for you, lady." So I did my lower body weights routine for an hour, followed by this super intense cardio routine that my trainer has me doing after each workout, on a specialized treadmill - think inclines that start at 25 and go to 50. Oy. It wasn't that big of a deal, considering I was biking to work today. Still. I was hoping for a spinning class. I got up at 5:30 a.m. for it, after all.

I'm feeling better in the past few days, certainly better than I was when I saw those pictures. I started my period on Sunday, and now that it's Tuesday, I think it's safe to say that my cycle contributed somewhat to my reaction.

Oh! Someone asked the other day about the whole "push/pull" lifting routine I was doing a few weeks ago and asked for a better explanation. I wish I had time to go into it, because I just don't, or that I could find it online to link to it - I looked, I swear. But! This month's issue of Oxygen explains the whole thing so I'd go and pick up a copy. This month's issue is, eh, OK. Maybe just read the magazine from the stand. :)

I have to tell you that now that I work downtown, my life is decidedly simpler. Like not having to get up at the crack of dawn to work out and make it to work on time rocks.

She was awesome. We had a solid workout together and we're very simpatico in terms of how we view weight training and the client/trainer relationship. Also she did not creep me out like the last trainer they hooked me up with, who made weird sexist comments about how "girls are" when working with trainers and who wanted me to report back to him every week with what I was eating.

The only caveat is that she made me promise to lift four times a week. I'm certainly better at lifting than I was - and let me tell you how much of a difference I could feel when she was putting me through the ringer this morning. Twenty push ups? No problem! Go me! - but Lord is that a lot of extra lifting. I'm going to do it, because I promised, and she said on the fifth day I do my cardio but I imagine I'll add some extra running in there. I just can't imagine not running every day again, now that the weather has shaped up.

Anyway, so we're going to meet every Monday morning now. A nice way to start out the week, I think.

I had a nice run with my dog on Saturday, even though it was still a bit too cold so I had to wear gloves. We're going running again tonight after work, though I suppose it'll be gloves again. Whatever. It's not freezing and it's not snowing so I'm not complaining.

****

It's only fair, I think that I share with you the moments where I totally lose my shit, where I fall apart into a pile of irrational goo, all made up of my insecurities and body image issues.

There were some decidedly unflattering pictures of me taken last week. The angle, the way I was sitting, the ten pounds of bloat on my face from the night before - which included much cheese and wine with my girlfriends as we celebrated an engagement - all contributed to these horrible shots. I about wanted to crawl into a hole and cry.

This reaction is so primal to me, so apart from my conscious thought. At the time, I felt really good about how I looked, and I know that the dress makes no cover up or excuses for my large stomach. It's a clingy, form-fitted wrap dress and I love it and it makes my tits look big and so I love wearing it. But those pictures seems to undo, or attempt to undo, all of the work that it's taken for me to be OK with not being perfect in a dress that asks nothing but, simply because I love it.

I took some deep breaths, quieted myself for a while, and realized that yes, I had gained some weight since January, but I was actively working on it - wine and cheese notwithstanding. Yes the medicine has done some damage, but this was a tough winter, too. I was sick a lot, tired ... I hibernated some.

Seeing myself in a picture that reminds me of my old life - when I didn't take care of myself and engaged in numerous bad habits of both the emotional and physical nature - shakes me up but it shouldn't. I am active. I work hard. I keep at it. I have faith in myself and trust myself enough that I'll continue to take care of my body so that I'm never that person again.

Not that "fat" person. Just that unhappy person.

I stepped on the scale Saturday morning to learn that nothing had changed since I'd last stepped on a scale, was captured in that picture, and that morning. 146. No ups or downs. Just 146 pounds. It's amazing, truly, what bloat, a night with no sleep and a bad camera angle can do.

My sister called me yesterday to tell me she found a picture of me from my 25th birthday party. "This doesn't even look like you," she said. My sister, you need to know, is not one to use this sort of language or point something like this out. "Your face was about three times bigger and your belly is actually hanging out."

The thing is, I remember these pictures. And that my bare belly ended up hanging out of most of them. Why no one told me is beyond me. Anyway, I remember these pictures and that I don't much resemble the person in those pictures anymore. And it's not solely because I'm older. Or because I'm thinner. Both are contributing factors, to be sure.

Mostly, though, those pictures don't much resemble me because I wasn't particularly self-aware in my twenties and certainly didn't value myself as I should have and it showed. I was, as I told my sister, a "hot mess."

Oy. I was a hot mess if ever there was one.

So anyway, it's still hard to see an image where I'm reminded of those days and not get upset. The difference now is that I've learned how to shake it off. It's hard, and it's still humbling, but it's better.

Oh my GOD. That could not have been a more stupid, though wonderful, thing to do. You know, they don't call Chicago "The Windy City" because of the actual wind, but when the weatherman predicts gusts of wind of up to 35 mph, a person oughta listen.

I, however, was not that person this morning. I was way too seduced by all that sunshine and 60-degree weather. I've said before, this was a tough winter and I've been so ready to be outside. That said, I'm not regretting my decision to not listen to reason or weather reports. It's hard after the last several months of just pure, unadulterated cold misery to complain. Yes it's windy, but it's warmer, sunny and I'm on a bike.

Plus, holy Moses whatta workout. It's a five-mile jaunt to my office that also includes a few hills. And, again, you combine 35-mph winds and you're golden.

I fully plan on doing this every day during the warmer months, on top of my regular work outs, because it's really the only way to go in the city. I'll save money, be more eco-friendly and have thighs as solid as tree trunks. I can't say I'm completely looking forward to the ride home, but maybe the wind will be at my back this time.

While part of our mutual agreement with each other is that we'll never, ever move to the suburbs, we do enjoy the convenience of shopping the burbs. It isn't that we don't have stores like Bed, Bath & Beyond (duh), it's just that the drive or walk between it and, say, Target, is ginormous. You work in Saturday afternoon traffic, and it's disaster.

Target was our last stop, needing to pick up odds and ends for the house. This time it was a new rug for my kitchen. Scott went off to grab a birthday card and I went towards the area rugs. I spotted one I liked on a high shelf, and scooted it towards me to get a better read on the size.

No sooner had I done this did a heavy, cardboard pole come swooping out from the middle of the rug - it was rolled up on the shelf, the pole was inside - and landed with a hard thud on the top of my foot, on that soft, delicate spot.

"JESUS CHRIST."

The first thought in my head, right after church, no less, and my next thought was total embarrassment for yelling that out AND in a Target, where no doubt there was a child nearby. Someone heard me, and asked me if I needed help. I was frantically trying to get a hold of Scott, who wasn't picking up his phone, because while it certainly hurt, I was more concerned with the fact that I was completely unable to stand and a crowd of Target workers began to gather around me.

Five minutes later, Scott came running up the aisle to find me sitting in a chair, Target team around me, with a bag of ice on my foot. One incident report later, we left Target for the birthday party.

"On the bright side," said my loving boyfriend as I hobbled out of Target, "You're going to fit right in with all of those old ladies at the nursing home today!"

I spent the rest of the day on my butt, foot elevated. Scott took excellent care of me, buying me ice wraps and Advil, getting me food and just generally making it so I wasn't doing anything but resting my foot. We battled it out a bit because I am not good at being helpless, but eventually I gave up the ghost. It helped that Uncle Bob (Scott's uncle on his dad's side) kept bringing me fresh glasses of red wine all day because, as he mentioned, I was injured and needed it.

It's much better than it was on Sunday, but it's still very sore and bruised. I've promised Scott that I won't run or lift or anything until it's stopped hurting. I mean, walking to the brown line from my office, which is about a half-mile away, makes it sore right now. I think it'll heal just fine - no lawsuits for me, though I have been in communication with the corporate offices at Target - but it's putting an awful cramp on things for me. I'd just bought a new helmet and bike rack on Saturday. I'm itching to get back out on the road. Especially since last week I'd stayed off my feet because of my IT band.

This is all just stupendously unfair. It's spring! I want to be outside running!

I'm hoping to be back out there by Saturday.

In other news, all of my summer clothes fit. Every last one of them. All of those new clothes I bought last year fit just fine. I cannot tell you how nice that was to learn last weekend when I was switching out clothes. I think it's just my jeans that make me feel the slight weight gain - jeans are not always the most forgiving of clothing items, after all.

Cargo pants don't mind five extra pounds, quite obviously.