MizFit and The Ellen Show
Mizfit is attempting to get on The Ellen Show, much like Ellen campaigned to get on the cover of Oprah’s magazine. Carla has always been delightful and helpful, so I hope she makes it!

Trapped in the spam filter
I migrated to a different blogging platform a few weeks ago, and I’ve been very happy. However, I noticed that the spam filter trapped at least two legitimate comments in its electronic nets. I only saw them because I happened to be browsing through the spam. If you left a comment that didn’t get posted that wasn’t spam, it might have gotten trapped. I apologize for that! To increase your chances of getting through, be sure to leave a real email address and not a fake one like none@none.com, which might have been the reason it got discarded.

Camera contest
I’ll draw the winner of the camera contest next week after I have a chance to check my PO box for any final entries. Thank you to everyone who entered!

Thank you for using my affiliate links!
Thank you to everyone who has purchased stuff on Amazon using my affiliate links. I had a really good month in January, and it’s only because of you. I really do appreciate it. My landlord appreciates it too.

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! Superbowl gift set winner
I drew the winner of the Superbowl gift set from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! this morning. There were 192 entries! Wow! The winner was Karen, who blogs at Musings From Grandma’s Attic. I emailed her this morning, but I might not have gotten past her Earthlink spam gatekeeper. If you’re reading this Karen, email me at blog [at] pastaqueen (dot) com with your address! As a consultation prize for the other 191 of you, I’ve posted three recipes from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! after the jump that you can use at your own Superbowl party.

However, I have learned it’s best not to wallow (or to try not to wallow anyway), so I’m going to continue on blogging about other stuff. So, don’t act too weirded out when I start talking about how to set your goal weight and things like that. I could whine about my headache all the time, but that would get old for all of us very quickly.

ETA: Oh, yesterday some people were getting a 500 error after they left a comment. I don’t know for sure why this was happening, but I would guess it was due to high traffic because it is weight loss resolution season. If it happens to you, just hit the “Back” button and try submitting your comment again and it should hopefully work. I will delete any duplicate comments…someday.

Thank you to my mother (and my father) for never fucking me up about my weight. They never put me on a diet, never called me fat, never made me feel self-conscious about my weight, and made me feel a sense of value and self-worth that had nothing to do with my body. I’ve read several weight memoirs in the past years and I’ve come to appreciate how exceedingly rare this sheltered kind of life is. It’s as if I grew up in a bomb shelter in the backyard while everyone else was exposed to the evils of magazines yapping about cellulite.

Thank you to my brothers for never teasing me about my weight, or if you did I don’t remember it. Thank you to my younger brother for setting a good example by losing a lot of weight four years ago and gentling nudging me in the right direction. It was awesome having someone to chat about the glycemic index with who didn’t fall into a coma afterwards.

Thank you to the makers of sugar-free fat-free pudding, no-sugar-added fudge pops, fat-free Cool Whip, Lean Cuisines, and diet sodas. There are probably too many weird preservatives and artificial chemicals in your products for my own good, but you helped me out more than you’ll ever know. Big props to the string cheese manufacturers, pistachio growers, and the fruit and vegetable farmers of the world. You give me quick, healthy snacks in a fix. Rock on.

Thank you to Arthur Agatston, whose book gave me good ideas on what types of foods I should be eating (not chocolate frosting), Ana Caban, who makes great Pilates DVDs (that have made my butt a bit perkier, perhaps?), and Cathe for the weight-lifting DVD (that made me unashamed to wear a tank top last night).

Thank you to the happy fun and fitness trail that runs next to my apartment. I love running amongst the bugs and leaves, even when I have to drag myself out there against my will. Your delightful nature always wins me over and I never regret spending time with you. (Except when you’re covered in ice and snow and freezing fog.)

Thank you to all the bloggers and commenters who cheered me on. I remember when you all first started stopping by I wondered, “Who are these people and why are they being so supportive? How odd.” I didn’t understand why strangers could be so excited and happy for me. But when I was running my half-marathon and someone yelled, “Go, Jennette!” at mile 13, I truly understood. You need people cheering you on or else you’ll faceplant on the pavement. Thank you for keeping the skid marks off of my rosy cheeks.

Thank you to my treadmill, my dumbbells, my Pilates mat, my YMCA membership, and my poor broken bicycle. Thank you to my heart-shaped silicone muffin pans, my silicone whisk, my breadmaker, my hand-mixer, my skillet, and my cookie sheet that I’ve roasted hundreds of veggies on. Thank you to fat-free cheese. Thank you to my cute activewear, my sweat-wicking socks, my running shoes, my MP3 player, and to cheesy techno music. Thank you to sexy boys and adorable children on the trail. Thank you to personal records and finish lines. Thank you to sunny days and endorphins.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Then last night I looked at my dirty dishes in the sink and I didn’t want to wash them. And I thought about driving to the grocery on Thanksgiving Eve to buy shortening and shuddered. But mostly I knew that if I baked a loaf of pumpkin bread, I would eat half a loaf of pumpkin bread before Thursday morning. I would tell myself not to. I’d believe that I could restrain myself. But who am I kidding? If I bake a loaf of pumpkin bread I’m going to eat half of it in a day. That’s just who I am.

So I put away the recipe and stuffed the thawed pumpkin back in the freezer. I’m glad I made that choice. I’m glad I realized that even though I planned to bake pumpkin bread days in advance and borrowed my mother’s bread pans that it wasn’t too late to turn back.

I wish I could make pumpkin bread and not eat it, like making an ash tray out of clay even though I don’t smoke. It’s fun to create something. See! I made this! Isn’t it puh-rty? Doesn’t it smell good? And why aren’t you using my lopsided ash tray? I may not smoke, but I inhale pumpkin bread.

You have to know who you are. Then you have to deal with it. Sometimes this means you don’t get to make pumpkin bread. But I will eat what I want to today (in reasonable portions). Then I am going to run. A lot. Because that’s who I am.

——

Since it is the day to give thanks, thank you! Thanks to all my lovely readers! I love that you know what a cherimoya is even when I don’t. I also love writing so much that I would probably be rambling on this here blog even if no one was reading, but I do love that there are people out there reading. Have a happy holiday!