Garcinia Cambogia Burps Are Worse Than Rob Riggle Ruining Football Broadcasts and Random TV Shows

If you give a mouse garcinia cambogia capsules on an empty stomach he’s going to taste their disgusting herbal-ness every time he burps and threaten to call a bunch of friends to infest your walls if you don’t then give him a cookie to settle his stomach.

I’ve heard a lot about what GC is supposed to do and have googled “does garcinia cambogia work?” more than once but keeping it real, I’m not sure if it does anything but taste pretty bad just yet. Still my best friend swears by it and so I’m taking it faithfully. If I start shrinking at a pace incongruous with my diet/exercise effort I will definitely let y’all know.

Yesterday I mentioned that I am trying some new things and that I would update you guys on what’s going on. I’mma go all Sophia from Golden Girls for a second (RIP Estelle Getty). Picture it, Turlock, Ca, 1984. A four year old me meets a girl named Erin Riley, one part of a set of twins who would be among the more athletic and authentic people I’d ever come across. When you go to Catholic school, typically your class sizes are smaller which means you get to know everyone really well. Another byproduct of small classes is that in order to have sports teams, pretty much everyone interested has to make the team unless you want to letter in forfeiting due to not having enough players. This meant that in third grade through high school I had a lot of people on my sports teams for whom “warming up” meant raising the temperature of the bench with their ass. Not so for Erin who was genuinely talented in every sport she played. Still, more impressive than her talent was her grit. This was a girl who did not give up, who played hurt, who would have earned a fist bump from Rocky Balboa for her heart.

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Okay back to present day. I have had a lot of diet and fitness partners over the years, ranging from people who say, “hey, let’s do this 10k together!!” and never train a day after you’ve registered and trained and booked hotels and yeah, grrrr to people who mean well in the beginning of a diet but stop showing up at Weight Watchers meetings they said they’d meet you at or returning your calls when they’re off the wagon. So I wasn’t necessarily sure my idea was a good one when I texted Erin last week to see if she was interested in being weight loss buddies. To my surprise and delight, not only did she accept the challenge but she had a lot of ideas that really affirmed my choice. She said that we should start texting pictures of our meals to each other, the rule being that we wouldn’t judge but we would be accountable and that we should think about doing the Insanity workout or using a running app that she had heard good things about. Guys, it is going really well. I know I can send her a picture of my lunch salad or tell her I skipped breakfast or that I really want a chili dog and she will send back a few appropriate and encouraging words like “hey, it’s not good to skip breakfast” or “that looks really good” or “let’s enter a chili dog eating contest together.” Okay I made up that last one.

The other thing we are doing concurrently with my aforementioned best friend of the Garcinia Cambogia fandom is reading The Secret. This is a book that I have heard a lot about because I both live on earth and because I used to interview realtors for trade magazine articles. But it’s not something I ever read because it seemed like something for people who want to just wish and not take action and I have always been someone who takes action. I’m learning that I was wrong. That the action of changing your negative thoughts to positive can be harder some days than doing better than even the worst guy in the back row of the Billy Blanks Tae Bo videos. We are reading it slowly so that we can really absorb the teaching and a lot of it is resonating with me. I will keep you posted on it as well as everything else I have going on.

In closing I would just like to say that I am super surprised nobody has named their baby Garcinia yet and that it just might take the cake over Neveah for the most obnoxious name yet.

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My Mea Culpa or Why Ugly Friends Are Not the Answer

I have a friend who disappears a lot. Whenever I see her, it starts with an apology from her. How she is really sorry she has not seen me for the past 30 days, six weeks, four months, insert super long time period. Then she asks anywhere from two to ten times if I am sure I am not mad at her for disappearing, for ignoring my periodic phone calls and texts asking how she is, how it’s going, if she wants to get together. Communications that generally end with my saying, “no, I am not mad at you.” If she didn’t live in a gated community I might go by her house and see if anyone buys that bs about just being in the neighborhood.

When I see her I find myself thinking that she is among my favorite people in the world and I have a great time with her but I also kind of know that she will disappear again. And because I love her and because she is worth it, I wait and I understand and I work not to take it personally. I had the pleasure of attending her destination wedding, a lavish affair filled with a ton of her family and her new husband’s friends/family. When I introduced myself to her family they were surprised that she had invited any friends and more surprised that I had made the trip. It was then I really and truly got that her behavior had really rooted out people who were not interested in being true friends to her and I decided it was their loss.

The closest most people probably come to this is when a friend gets a new boyfriend/girlfriend and falls off the face of the planet. It hurts to have someone who used to choose time with you over so many things suddenly decide their time is best spent with their love interest but it happens and it’s natural and we all do it to some extent so you can either be the friend you want others to be or you can give up. If you choose the latter, you would eventually have to realize that unless you are friends with some unredeeming, foul looking people everyone will partner up at some point and you will go through the cycle so stick with the people who are worth waiting for.

Long analogy made longer, I’m sorry that I was gone so long without any word about my diet and fitness efforts. The idea of blogging for fun/accountability/therapy is new to me this year and clearly I had my first long-term disappearance. Writing this it doesn’t feel like I’ll mess up again but life has a way of putting you in a spin cycle and spitting you out sopping wet sometimes and let’s just say I’ve been through the wringer a bit lately. Unfortunately unlike a lot of clothes I can’t be bothered to hand-wash, I have not shrunk since I last wrote. However, I am doing some new things that I can’t wait to tell you about in the very near future. I will be back, hopefully tomorrow or the next day but definitely sooner rather than later.

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Have I Mentioned I Don’t Really Like Juice?

Since yesterday I have become fairly obsessed with reading weight loss success stories online. Lots of the ones I read from people who had juiced reported that longstanding medical issues or scars on their body had healed as a result of juicing. Honestly? I kinda chalked it up to the kind of wishful, hyperbole-filled thinking that flies online, a place where people honestly believe Bill Gates will give them $5,000 of his hard-earned money for sharing a post when he isn’t even leaving much to his own kids in his will. But this morning I glanced down at my thumbnail and stopped in my mental tracks. Just over a year ago I split my thumb nail almost down the middle. Nothing has worked to heal it- nail hardener, liquid bandage, actual bandages, etc. Once I thought I nipped it in the bud by cutting my nails really short almost to the crack. But when the nail grew out the crack was right there again. I have long hair and am prone to playing with it and so it would always get caught in the crack, annoying me and leading to mental schemes on how I could get it fixed once and for all- tea tree oil? Thumb transplant? But this morning after four loonnnnng days on the juice fast, it is almost healed. Only a small crack still shows and I can’t even feel it anymore. I still cannot believe it.

Sooo this is something. My flattening stomach is another. I am nearly at 8 pounds lost in the 4 days. I am honestly not sure whether the weekend will be harder or easier. I guess I will just have to wait and see.

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Water You Gonna Do Without Any Food for 30 Days or Water Fasting: The Only Thing That Makes a Juice Diet Look Easy

Ask directions from Rocky Balboa and he will tell you, “There’s no easy way out. There’s no shortcut home.” So too is there no shortcut to my non-fat jeans. I am not even aspiring to my skinny jeans at this point. I will take my non-fat jeans all the way to the bank. This morning, on the fourth day of my juice fast, I was in need of some inspiration. At six am there are few options so I did what any half-starved chick, overheated (I hit rare periods during this fast where I am really hot on a level that seems out of sync with even the high temperatures outside) with a modem would do- I took to the Internet. And I discovered that there are people out there fasting with only water. ONLY WATER. For up to 30 days which is oh the most you can do without DYING.

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I now feel like a total asshole for complaining about hunger on the juice diet. I complained on the Atkins diet and I got meat, eggs and occasionally some delicious cheese. I believe my words last night were, “I’d give my left nut to be on Atkins about now.” But I also watched some videos from people who had done juice fasts. Some pretty small looking people lost 20 pounds in 30 days while some bigger people lost as much as 40 pounds. Why these really small people are even going on extreme diets is beyond my comprehension but it does occur to me that however small they are to me, they may be bigger than they used to be/want to be. Twenty pounds in a month is enough to make even the most jaded, seasoned dieter sit up and take notice. I am hanging on for dear life at times but hey, I’m hanging on. And now I feel less alone. Even if some of my company would make my non-fat jeans look like clown pants. 

By the way, I have been asked if I am open to reader questions and the answer is absolutely. I am not necessarily an “expert” on health/fitness but I certainly have a wealth of practical experience and at the very least you will get a thoughtful and possibly even amusing response. 

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Amber and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day Two

Okay it’s Day 3 of the Juice Fast. Anyone who has ever read about juice fasting knows that day two is notorious for being as painful as getting a chainsaw shave from Stevie Wonder. Around 6 pm last night a headache unlike any I have ever had gripped me and didn’t let go until 10 pm when I fell into deep sleep. But when I woke up at 4 am I felt great- energetic and ready to face another day of juice (I normally wake up at 6 am but I couldn’t get back to sleep so I just rolled with it). Today has been good. I am down six pounds as of this morning and just about to have my second juice of the day. In fact, today would have been perfect if not for this picture on a magazine that came this morning.

Whyyyyy would a picture of the most awesome looking burger ever have to come in the mail today?? Curly fries AND cheese sauce. We are looking at the chupacabra of burgers, folks:

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Fat, Sick and Needing Bread

Desperate times result in desperate measurements. Isn’t that the expression? Huh, seems like it come swimsuit season. I haven’t blogged for a few weeks because I have been doing some work on myself and what the next step in my health journey should be. Like any good Netflexian, I turned to the many documentaries on there for inspiration. Though I watched enough that I’m wondering how to dress up as the Monsanto Monster (Monsanto Soylant is People, anyone?) in October and feel a sweet wash of relief that I’ve never tried their “hamburgers” every time I pass McDonald’s, it was “Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead” that really resonated with me. Somehow the sight of those two big, grown men slurping down juices like milkshakes and shrinking more quickly than Janet Jackson off the carbs stuck with me. So this is it. Day One. I hope tomorrow is Day Two. But for now, I’m knee deep in a concoction that has only fruit and vegetables and smells like the bottom of a cafeteria trash can. Maybe that’s the secret to truly pacing yourself-extreme nausea olfactory style. I am hoping to choke this one down in time for lunch. Anyway, I plan to keep y’all updated on this because I think this plan has real potential to change lives. Whether my life is one of them, who knows. Here’s hopin’.

hatch

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Somehow XXX Isn’t As Sexy On a Clothing Tag or Why You Can’t Lose Weight While Eating Like A Diabetic in a Dark Theater

Before there was FitBit or the Nike Fuelband, there was the BodyBugg, a little device capable of answering that burning question all dieters face- no, not “does tanned fat make me look smaller?” but the often-asked “why can’t I lose weight?” 

When I first saw this little gadget on The Biggest Loser, I was blown away. Finally Jillian had a way to prove that weight loss is indeed scientific, utilizing a formula no more complicated than calories out- calories in= weight loss.

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I knew that I had to get one and I did long before most people even knew the gadgets were possible. Everywhere I went cashiers or nosy old people would eye my band asking, “so what’s that?” The worst times were when I was at the supermarket buying oh, say enough chips to warrant them first asking, “Oh, are you having a party?”

Knowing the precise number of calories burned all day really puts things into perspective. There can be no denying that the grueling 30-minute run that morning won’t be completely erased by the bacon ultimate cheeseburger or that the quick weight loss you saw at the beginning of other diets was most definitely water weight because it takes an unholy amount of time to create a deficit of 3,500 calories unless you want to eat way less or exercise way more.

The Bodybugg has evolved over the years and can now give me information about how soundly I sleep which I use to calculate absolutely nothing. But my reliance on its hard data has not changed. At the beginning of every earnest attempt to reduce the size of my butt into something resembling either a vegetarian or a small Asian boy, I strap on my Bodybugg and get to work. If it works, work it. If it comes in a crinkly plastic package and sounds better than a vegetable, avoid it. Or be prepared to work it off. At least with the Bodybugg you can watch it sloooowwwwly disappear.

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