Isa- what?
Look – I’ve tried every diet there is. The nutrisystem deliveries? Revolting. Nutritionists? Evolved into whack-job emotional eating therapy sessions. One summer I tried the Montignac/GI Diet/Suzanne Somers thing with a friend of mine. After a month or so we agreed we’d never felt better; never had more energy; never enjoyed so much cheese. She looked tremendous. I couldn’t do up my pants. And of course as any who know me know….I’m a Weight Watcher lifer – right down to the app on my iPhone.
I know what you’re thinking – obviously having been on every diet means that I….erm… needed to be on every diet. Not so. OK, maybe a little, but I was rolling along quite nicely until I got pregnant. Over and over and over again!
With each weekly WW meeting I figured out new and improved ways to beat the system. And then suddenly, the system stopped working for me. Or maybe I stopped following it….Either way, I’d reached that dreaded zone we never-say-diet-it’s-a-lifestyler hates: The Plateau.
So when my dear friend told me she was going to do a “cleanse” I poo-poo’d her. Crash diet now, gain it back later. That’s what I’d heard, read, studied. Belittling her efforts became a bit of a sport. What was she thinking?
Question is, after she lost 11 lbs in 11 days – what was I thinking? And when could I start?
September 8 was D-Day. After all, Labour Day’s the new New Years, right?
Bring on the Isagenix.
My new mantra became shake, shake, meal. Breakfast and lunch are replaced with these shakes, followed by a “healthy” meal. And I must tell you the first day was brutal. BRUTAL. I was warned I might suffer a headache or two, but when I crawled under the covers, fully clothed, ice pack on my head and gel mask on my eyes, I thought I was in rehab. Turns out this cleanse was, in every sense, a detox. I also happened to have had a tetanus shot that morning. I can blame the shot. Or the lack of Diet Dr. Pepper. Either way, I was sure this was it. The end. The end of isagenix, and the end of my life.
But the sun rose again and I carried on. Shake, Shake, Meal. Shake, Shake, Meal. I ditched the gag-inducing Ionix (a Vitamin B liquid/motor oil that failed to get my engine running) and stuck to the shakes. I added a few pineapple chunks and a smattering of mango to the vanilla and I swear, it could’ve passed for a pina colada. Almost.
And then came cleanse day number one. The moment of truth. I shot back 4 ounces of the Cleanse for Life liquid and waited for the magic to happen. I had to do 4 glasses of the stuff which, while not completely vile, isn’t something I’d ever savour. But whatever natural speed/appetite suppressant was in there was working. It was a breeze. So much so that I went for it and did another cleanse day the next day.
Now, if someone had told me I’d drink nothing but 16 ounces of some sort of aloe vera berry juice I’d have shown them the door and ordered Chinese, just to prove them wrong. But I did it. With only mild cheating. A couple of carrots here, a cuke or two there. And then there are the oddly compelling IsaSnacks. Strange little wafers that taste like chalk and yet…..become somewhere comforting when there’s nothing else to chew.
And so it went….For 11 days.
I stepped on the scale, whipped out my measuring tape – supplied by the kind folks at Isagenix to prove their point – and….Lo and behold, I’d lost 10 lbs. And 18.5 inches. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. And to be honest – I don’t care. I did get a bit nervous that there may be some sort of heart-attack inducing natural speed in there – but according to my trustworthy chiropractor – it’s all good. In fact, he wants to start taking it now too!
It’s no secret that the whole isagenix world is based on a pyramid scheme. Tho’ I guess it’s not a scheme if it works. But there’s a shady feeling about the whole thing. And yet… I’m all over it. Hook, line and sinker. I don’t miss my diet pops or my processed turkey sticks. I have a new-found appreciation for water, almonds, and tea. I know how evangelical I sound – ironic when you consider one of my many sidelines of work is writing inspirational blogsites – but when something works, it works.
Oh – and for those naysayers who wonder how much more I’ve gained back? I’m down another 3lbs . Schadenfreude – kiss my shrinking ass! Everybody else, hop on the IsaTrain – it’s a sweet, clean ride…..
2 comments:
September 9, 2009 No Comments
What I Did on my Summer Vacation
1 comments:
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Anonymous said…
- the father did really teach it to them. notch another one for jack ass. summer lovin!
September 7, 2009 No Comments
Lulu’s for Lemons
Check out the following statement:
“Look at your cute clogs…I remember when you only wore high heels, were dressed to the nines, and had your hair cut ‘n coloured by that rip-off guy….Now you’re all comfy and relaxed….”
How would you interpret this?
a) that you’re fabulous and chilled; mellowed with age.
b) that the person speaking has a secret ladies’ shoe fetish
c) that you’ve let yourself go
If you said anything other than (c) you’re a moron. Or a man. Same same sometimes. “Comfy”? There’s not a whole lot worse you could call a person, without being straight-out rude! Fact is, lululemon is the best – and worst – thing to happen to a girl since the invention of lycra.
Lulus, and all their knock-off compatriots, have definitely helped the humble sweat pant grow in leaps and bounds. (Excuse the phys ed refs.) But when once they were seen as a somewhat chic way of dressing shlubby (in my mind that is) they’ve now become the ubiquitous uniform for stay at home moms, exercise fanatics, and those of us who need to shed a few.
In other words, they’re the new Fat Pants.
They’re black. They’re flattering. They suck you in in all the right spots. We all wonder how we lived without them…And yet…they let the world know you’re got nothing to wear, something to hide, or both. Outside of the gym, that is. I have one friend who refuses to wear her yoga pants after 12 noon. Another who will only wear them once she’s inside the actual gym. And then there’s me, who (until the clog/relaxed/what happened comment) refused to wear anything but!
Erm, “butt” being the operative word here.
Having a four-month old baby should be excuse enough for kicking back a la lemonata. And yet, it’s not. With my other kids I always knew another pregnancy was on the cards, so never really invested. Sure, I joined a gym (or two) but rarely went. And of course I’m a Weight Watcher lifer. I always got back down to the starting line, give or take 5 lbs. But this time, it’s done. No more babies to be born from this body. It’s time to get back on the horse. The clothes horse that is.
But with an unforgiving, post-partum, 3-baby body it’s easier said than done. Hence the yoga pants. And now it seems they’re no longer an option. Or are they? Sure I remember the days of yore: not necessarily skinny, but definitely stylish. I was the chick who was dressed and blown dry on Sundays. In my apartment. And now? Jeans are my fancy pants. What happened? Have I let myself go? Is the most stylish thing about me my beloved iPhone?
It is pretty stylish…
But I digress. Someone suggested I don’t care as much now about how I look.
WHAT?!?
I straighten my hair for god’s sake. I may colour it myself now, but I still straighten. With products. So I must care. Right?
Let’s set the record straight.
I’M.NOT.GOING.ANYWHERE.
Or anywhere exciting. It’s a short drive from my home to my kids’ schools. Throw in a couple of detours for food ‘n sundries and I’m done. For that I should dress up? How? Back in the day when I did get styley, I was also getting paid. Most of my money went towards feeding my shopping habit. Nowadays, my money isn’t really mine. It’s “ours”. (Well, actually…my money is mine, his money is ours… but I don’t really have any…And that’s another story…) Either way, it’s spoken for.
But not anymore. I’m turning over a new leaf. Or reverting back to an old one. I’m packing up my yoga pants. Putting away my sensible shoes (albeit high-heeled ones). All dressed up with no place to go? That’ll be me. Suited and booted and rarin’ to go. Nowhere. But in style.
At least for this week……
October 30, 2008 No Comments
Resolve This
I will, I won’t, I swear, I’ll try…..Talk, talk, talk, doesn’t anybody…erm…do anymore?
I’m talking about New Year’s resolutions. It’s January 12th. Do you know where your resolutions are? Are they down the crapper? Come on, you can admit it. Still eating? Smoking? Lounging? Working too hard? Not working enough?
Probably.
Rather than fall off various wagons and miss crucial deadlines, I didn’t even bother making resolutions. It’s not that I think I’m perfect. Far from it. I’m just as much a fixer-upper as the next gal, if not more so. Always in need of a fine tuning here, a slight shaping there, a little motivation…
Motivation!! Maybe THAT’s the problem. I’m so unmotivated (insert: “how unmotivated are you?”). Well, I’m so unmotivated that I can’t even make a bloody New Year’s resolution.
But with all the studies showing how fruitless they are, really, who can be bothered?
VIVA LA REVOLUCIONE!
Yep, I’m rebelling against resolutions. For me, this New Year’s backlash isn’t about staying home on New Year’s Eve. Au contraire!!! But Jan 1st? Could there be a worse time to start making empty promises? I mean , puh-lease people – it’s a national holiday! We’re all still on vacation!
The good intentions of Christmas – I mean – The Holiday Season – are sweet. Nice. Charming. But come January? Buh-bye. I almost want to start smoking – almost. Except I need to be supportive to those who resolved not to. Eat less? I resolve to do that every week. But in January? Sheesh…I’m a Weight Watcher’s Lifer and haven’t been since the ‘007 began. Working too much? A non-issue for me. Starting work? Erm…It’s January. Isn’t showbiz dead in January? Isn’t it?! All the best movies came out in Dec and the best TV is on hiatus ’til, well, Sunday. And people are just starting to get their work-groove back. Right?
That’s what I tell myself.
And then there’s the working out issue. Talk about been there, done that… I used to be a daily do’er. Complete with trainer. Mr. Mexico, no less. That’s right, the real Mr. Mexico. While Miss America was saving the world or getting wasted, Mr Mexico was training me. Until I fell for someone else – Bikram. Cuz folks, let me tell you – nothing beats a Bikram body. Nothing. Except you can’t do hot yoga pregnant. So that was replaced by walks. Power walks. Then strolls. Then stepping into the car. And now? The closest I come to a workout is lifting my fork to my mouth.
But not for long. Because I joined a gym. I joined a new, hot, fancy shmancy gym. I figured the price alone will drive me onto that treadmill. Except for one thing. My gym isn’t open yet.
That’s right, I’m so loathe to make a new year’s – or anytime – resolution that I pre-joined a gym. Back in Sept. I figured I’d give myself a couple months to procrastinate and then, when it opened, I’d go. Is it a coincidence that it looks like it’ll be opening in January? Perhaps. But because I joined a while back, and didn’t make any announcements, it wouldn’t be a real New Year’s resolution. And thus I wouldn’t be breaking it.
Here’s the thing – while it’s still not open officially, it’s getting close. Every week I get emails informing me of the club’s progress. The lobby’s done. The equipment’s in place. The classes are up and running. Unlike me. All that’s left are the showers. And any minute now those changerooms will be rarin’ to go – but will I? What excuses will I have left? By the time it opens it won’t be about breaking New Year’s Resolutions. It’ll be about breaking in my shoes and breaking out of my lounging habit. The other day they even left me a message about setting up a fitness consultation. Is it too late to resolve not to waste time talking on the phone? Would that count?
Tick tock….January’s flying by….If the resolutions are out the window, does that mean we have to keep the secret promises we made to ourselves…in September? I’m changing my mind. I am going to make resolutions. And stick to them too. If Jan 1st is the day, so be it. January 1st, 2008. Shame I missed the boat this year, then….A real, lovely, lazy shame…
January 12, 2007 No Comments
Go Cheap or Go Home
Is cheap the new black?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. But is cheap the new black?
Erm, not at Zara. Yeah, it’s chic ‘n cheap but it’s also crap. And not in the disposable way Le Crapeau…I mean Le Chateau… is crap. We’re talking ripped-while-still-on-the-hanger crap, as opposed to wear, tear, and toss crap. Oddly, their kids’ line is not crap. Mind you, it ain’t cheap. But it’s stunning – especially for boys.
Ditto H &M. Awesome duds for the kids, but for ladies? Duds of a different kind. For this gal at least. Believe me, I’ve tried. But ’twas not to be. The fit, the fabric, or just the itch factor – there was always something a bit off.
Winners? Dirty. Old Navy? XXXXXL. Fairweather? Puh-lease. And the list goes on.
So I stuck with fancy. The supersoft shirts, yummy sweaters, perfect pants. All mine. For a price. A very hefty price. And y’know what I found? That a lot of the high end stuff was crap too! No sooner had I washed and worn than I’d find a little teeny tiny hole. Or a snag. Or an unravelled cuff or jagged hem. And don’t get me started on cotton tees that start to ball. It’s the worst.
But what’s a fashion victim to do? Shelling out the big bucks didn’t work. And the cheap and cheerful left me feeling anything but…
Until now.
There’s a new kid in town. Let’s call him Joe. For real. ‘Cuz the place is called Joe Fresh and basically, it’s clothes shopping at Loblaws.
WAIT!
Before you delete and think I must’ve completely lost my mind, read on. I actually debated sharing this dirty little secret. In fact, some friends kindly suggested I keep my mouth shut (at least until after they’d checked it out themselves). But alas loyal readers, you’ve earned it. You’ve shared my blog, you’ve liked my blog – you’ve actually read my blog! So here’s a little tidbit for you.
Joe Fresh. As in Joe-who-used-to-own-Club-Monaco. As in the guy who got lured away by the kind folks at Loblaws. As in who the hell cares? You won’t. Cred be damned! If you can get over the fact that it’s, well, grocery shopping for fashion, you’ll be glad that you did.
Housed in suburban Superstores and in the Old Caban space beside, yup, Loblaws, you will meet Joe Fresh. Nice, plain, simple. And did I mention, cheap? Tees for a tenner. Jeans under $30. And yoga pants and tops that fit and feel EXACTLY like your Lulus – but without the hefty price tag (pants are $29)(that’s right, no type-o: $29)
AND not only are the clothes flattering – the sizes are somewhat generous too. So you can try on stretchy jeans and check out your butt – or thighs, or hips or calves – and marvel at the fact that you’re wearing a size smaller than you thought. Who doesn’t love that? Especially compared to all the fancy pants around that were definitely not designed for women of childbearing age. Paige Jeans excepted.
I got a bit carried away this morning: jeans, shirt, vest, sweater, and more. What with these prices…And the turnover is crazy fast as the stuff flies off the shelves…’Cuz at these prices… Finally, I do hear you, skeptics. It may all turn out to be more disposable fashion crap. Only time will tell. But again, at these prices…
3 comments:
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Anonymous said…
- Went today and it’s like Club Mon of old, although not as styley. Very good basics, although for me the pant cuts were not nice. Very cheap store-like, although, not the yoga pants which are fab and will be worn on the plane by a non-outside yoga pant wearing person. But I take great offence to your dissing of Winners and Fairweathers. You’d be surprised what basics you can find there that don’t feel disgusting. And well, Winners is for hunters and you ain’t ever been one of those. I have some wicked stuff from there and now I add Joe to my list of easy basics. Thanks for the tip.
- 11:20 AM
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Anonymous said…
- This is Dave’s friend Rob… my Wife has been bugging me about this Lulu crap for months now. I sent her right over to the super centre and now she has her Lulu knock off’s and is loving life. Thanks for the tip. You rock. By the way, I personally know one of the managers of Winners and the biggest and best hidden treasures are at the Winners in Barrie right off of the 400. There is a tip for you!
October 12, 2006 No Comments
Jean Genius
1 comments:
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Anonymous said…
- Alternate titles to your latest posting:
“I Dream of Jean-ie”,
“Beyond the Rainbow” (points if you get the reference), and my fave
“Jean Smart”
(who by the way, ROCKED on “24”. Hello, Emmy–are you listening?)
June 16, 2006 No Comments
Women be Shoppin’, Women be Shoppin’, Women be Shoppin’
4 comments:
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Anonymous said…
- okay that was the shopping– but the FOOD– hello? Where’s the food? No trip to NYC is complete without a sampling from the delights to be found (insert turista exclamation) “only in New York!” And I know you MOAM– you sampled some tasty vittles. Fess up!
- 5:25 PM
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Anonymous said…
- Your “fashionista friend” thanks you for the shout out and assumes you found your way back to Sullivan St. — O&B bags unharmed.
I miss you already!
- 12:06 PM
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Anonymous said…
- Concert t to the concert! You are a maven!
- 4:33 PM
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Anonymous said…
- you feel very very alive and in somewhat of control ….or not
June 13, 2006 No Comments
Anonymous said…
kyra said…