The Playoffs 15

Anyone who's ever gone to college knows about The Freshman 15. It's the weight an 18-year-old puts on from being away from home for the first time, constantly surrounded by copious amount of food in the dorm cafeteria and all-you-can-drink keg parties at the fraternity house down the street. They are out of routine, not on the football or cheerleading squad exercising every day after school, and sleeping through any class that starts before 11 a.m. By the time they all go home for holiday break, boom! Everyone's chunkier.

When the San Francisco Giants baseball team was in the 2002 and 2003 playoffs, I found myself in a similar situation. Instead of going jogging after work along the gorgeous Crissy Field coastline, there were very important games I HAD to see…..at a sports bar…..with pitchers of beer and plates of nachos. The problem with a playoff series is that they can go on for weeks upon weeks. And if your team is lucky enough to make it to the World Series, as we did in 2002, those weeks turn into months. Before you know it, one missed jog around the neighborhood turns into 17. Pile the sports bar calories on top of it and you've suddenly gained The Playoffs 15!

The Giants' recent run for the pennant has proven I have still not taken these learnings and applied them. I have spent the last two evenings with my eyes glued to the flat screens at a place here called Rosemunde's Sausage Grill. It is every bit as delicious as it sounds. Literally more than a dozen different kinds of specialty sausages to choose from. The fries are to die for. And there's an excellent selection of specialty beers. So as I rooted for enough wins to take us to the World Series, I stuffed my face with said deliciousnesses. Never mind the previous two-week-long series that got us to this one, or the end of the regular season prior to that, which was a nail biter down to the end, so I HAD to watch all those games too.

Needless to say, Weight Watchers tracking is not one of the 'stats' I've been paying any attention to lately. It's much more interesting to see how our star closer Brian Wilson matches up against the league's other best pitchers. But, I am still subjecting myself to weekly weigh-ins. If I'm going down with the team, I at least want to know it. I thought I was beating the odds when last week when I weighed in at a new all-time-low for myself. Pleased as punch I figured I could keep on doing what I'd been doing and get away with it. Well, that philosophy turned into strike three when I stepped on the scale this week…… UP 4.5 LBS! It was a new record stat: largest gain in a week since starting Weight Watchers. Boy do I not need that on my ERA.

There are a couple more critical games this weekend. I’m not sure my behavior will change completely, but maybe it isn't necessary to sit in the sausage joint again for starters. Hopefully I can monitor myself a bit better and avoid another error on the scale. And hopefully I can celebrate doing so by popping open a bottle of champagne with a Giants World Series berth.

LET'S GO GIANTS!

How Winos Celebrate Birthdays

We don't celebrate with cake. We celebrate with karaoke.

So We Meet Again

I'm sure you all recognize the above image. The Scale. My mortal enemy. Throughout the years it has appeared regularly in my nightmares, cackling and taunting me. The very thought of stepping onto it at the doctor's office has caused me to cancel appointments.

But I didn't cancel my appointment yesterday. For the past few months, I have had to skip my weekly Weight Watchers weigh-ins because they coincided with my weekly team runs. I tried to stick with the e-Tools, but without those weigh-ins, I really had nothing to hold me accountable. So when I went in for my annual check up at the doctor's office yesterday after not getting on the scale for three months, I was terrified—and sure that I had gained all my weight back.

Before stepping onto the scale, I contemplated removing my jeans right there in the middle of the hallway—everyone knows they add about a pound!—but I thought better of showcasing my thong to the twelve year old boy in the room across from me, so I sucked it up and just got on. As the nurse moved the metal weight to the right—thud, thud, thud—I cringed. She wrote down the number on her chart, and I anxiously peered down at it.

The good news: When all was said and done, I had only gained 2 lbs. And probably only one with the jeans. Just sayin'.
The bad news: When all was said and done, I had gained 2 whole lbs. For the past three months, I haven't lost any weight. Boo.
The lesson: The weekly weigh-ins matter. Though the cackle of the scale rings in my ears and conjures up feelings of fear and inadequacy, I need it, because it is what ultimately keeps me in line.

So I just upgraded my membership from e-Tools only to a full, monthly pass. Weigh-ins start back up again next week. I have waged a full-on war with my mortal enemy, The Scale—a war I plan to win.

I did it!

Cue "Eye of the Tiger," everyone. Because I killed the Kauai Half Marathon last week! 13.1 miles? Check! PLUS, I raised over $5,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in the process thanks to the incredibly generous support of friends and family, many of whom are reading this blog. Thank you, thank you, thank you!


It was my first race, and traversing the garden isle of Kauai before the sun even came up was a surefire way to get me hooked on marathon running. Watching the sunrise over the lush, green mountains as I approached mile 5 was definitely one of the more unforgettable experiences of my life—as was the incredible rainbow that appeared in the sky above me just half a mile before crossing the finish line.

I didn't get the greatest time—my average pace was exactly 11 minutes per mile—but in my defense, the course was really tough! Very hot and VERY hilly! I consider it good practice for the Nike Women's Half Marathon, which I'll be running in October in San Francisco. :)

So what did I do to reward myself after successfully completing my first Half Marathon?

Spent 10 amazing days on the island with my best friend.

Took in incredible sunsets.

Kayaked tropical rivers.

Hiked to secret waterfalls.

Explored the wondrous and mysterious Na Pali coast.

Floated among hundreds—hundreds—of dolphins.

And, of course, indulged in many a delicious, fruity cocktail!

Bring on the next race!

Summer in San Francisco

I am wearing a scarf today. It is the middle of August.

Even though us San Franciscans get tired of hearing it, the old Mark Twain quote rings all too true: "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco."

How does this relate to weight loss? Well, I mentioned the scarf. But add to that the fact that I wear a fleece everywhere I go because it's been too cold not to. My daily outfit all summer has consisted of a fleece or vest, and a different colored scarf. Welcome to Summer in San Francisco.

Let the below picture from Wino JWHA's birthday last week serve as proof of that.

Sure, we all had a great time... but notice how everyone's in winter clothes? Turtlenecks, scarves, sweaters... even a wool coat! It just ain't right.

When I lived in places that had hot summers—L.A., Boston, D.C.—I had more motivation to lose weight, because I knew summer's arrival meant the donning of summer apparel: shorts, skirts, tanks, bikinis. Because San Francisco summers are an exception to the "hurry-and-lose-weight-so-you-will-look-decent-in-that-bikini" rule, I have lagged this summer, and have sort of fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon. I guess I have gotten a little too comfortable in my fleece and scarf.

But I leave for Kaua'i two weeks from today. The fleece is coming off, and the bikini's going on. And when I get back, it will be Fall in San Francisco—which means warmth and sun.

So it's on. No more lagging. Back to tracking, tracking, tracking. Because my scarf and fleece won't be there to save me in Hawaii—and they shouldn't have to save me now, either.

Say Yes To (zipping up) The Dress!

Now that Wino Tristan's wedding is complete (see post below), it is on to the next one. T-minus 4 weeks til showtime for me and plenty still to do. After a grueling 16 week order time, I was finally able to pick up my wedding dress this weekend. The wedding dress I started this whole Weight Watchers thing for in the first place.

I wasn't exactly thrilled with the whole wedding dress process. First, it's a lot of work getting those things over your head and back off again, not only for you but for the salesperson helping. By the time you try on a dozen, it is practically a workout. Then, most if not all of them were 2 sizes down from what I wound up ordering. So instead of stealthily slipping up the zipper of them, the helper girl would have to pull the sides back to give me a better look of how a more appropriate size might fit. Not exactly an ideal way to get excited about the thousands of dollars you are about to spend when one is pouring out of satin and lace. Hmph.

Sixteen weeks is a long time to wait for something. When I plopped down my credit card for the most expensive garment I have ever bought, it was early April. I looked back at my progress on the Weight Watchers weight tracker since that time and was surprised to discover I have, overall, only dropped about 6 pounds since then. Talk about some yo-yo dieting! The strange thing is, my body now is noticeably slimmer. I don't know if I've gained muscle or what, but even with only a 6 lb total difference since then, I walked into that bridal shop in better shape than when I placed the order.

Not really knowing what to expect when it was time to see how my dress would fit, the sales chick and I did the shimmy once again to get the thing over my head. Then, time to zip. Expecting some sort of a struggle, I literally had to ask her -- is it all zipped up? "YES!," she said. Whew! I thought. I looked at the front and back in the three-way mirror and was relieved to see that I was pretty happy with the way all body parts were being displayed inside and out of the thing. Granted, it is built to hold your junk in place and make it look good. But, hey, I was holding up my end of the bargain too!

So, the stress is over, right?! Wrong. Now time to find a decent tailor that won't cost me another grand to make a few final adjustments. At least I'm not worrying about them having to somehow let the thing out though. If that were the case I'd be seriously contemplating pulling a Bridezilla!

(Please pardon the wrinkles in the dress picture; it has not been presssed for wear yet.)

To Have and to Hold...On to Pounds!

It is exactly one week until my father walks me down the aisle. It has been a blur of activities, mostly fun, but some stressful. I had heard that in the weeks prior to your wedding, pounds magically fall off! “Don’t worry, Tristan, you will drop, like tons of weight right before the wedding.” Well guess what, that DOESN’T happen. It is true that I am just three little pounds away from my goal weight, but I am here to report that it was done through good, old fashioned weight watchers hard work. After the famous nacho blow out (with fellow bride and wino, Erika), I knew something had to change. I began watching portions and counting points- something, I confess, I hadn’t done in months. With all of the wedding activities, I was able to maintain, but not lose. So two weeks ago, I made a few small changes: more protein, less quantity, and fewer sips of wine. The result: 5 pounds and more nipping in of the wedding dress.

As I stood in the fancy-pants bridal salon and took a look at my arms, I realized that I have lost 28 pounds. It took a whole year to get it off and I am still not at the finish line. However, I am ready to take my fathers arm and to smile, knowing that I worked hard to get where I am. Just because I am getting married, doesn’t mean that the barn door is open for cheese and bread fest. Instead, I will continue to strive for the balance weight watchers has helped me achieve. When I started at weight watchers, my motto was “Slow and steady wins the race.” Instead of thinking that I had to lose 30 pounds (sounds scary, doesn’t it!), I just took it day by day and bottle of wine by bottle of wine. And now, I am the bride I want to be. Thanks to all of my fellow winos & to my fabulous fiancé for supporting me and for tell me to slowly back away from the gummy worms.

Signed, The Future Mrs. Margetson