I worked out today. That makes three days in a row. Yay, me! I even did it without my son nagging me into it. Since he’s come down with a nasty case of poison ivy, the last thing he was interested in doing was joining me, which meant I could have skipped the workout.

But I didn’t.

Twenty minutes on the exercise bike. Twenty minutes with free weights. Twenty minutes of napping afterwards. What can I say, I’m a slug?

But I’m a slug who worked out for three days in a row. So there.

Is it just me or does it seem like to you, too, that every where we look these days there are news stories, advertisements, reports, studies and medical alerts all bearing one message: “You’re too fat! You’re too fat! You’re TOO FAT!” Is it any wonder, then, that anorexia and eating disorders are increasing among the middle-aged?

Fat. Over-weight. Excess BMI. Obesity. We’ve even got a war on it, complete with Congressional funding. How sick is that?

Not long ago I wrote about Shaquille O’Neill’s show in which he attempted to create a ‘boot camp’ for overweight kids. It is, as I explained, a dangerous approach to take with children who are already suffering from low self-esteem. But adults are no less susceptible to these media messages, to this condemnation from outside which so closely mimics our inner-tapes: “You’re too fat! You’re too fat. You’re TOO FAT!”

Surrounded by a never-ending barrage of negativity about our current size, coupled with commercials that equate ordering a hamburger with finally — finally — having things “your way” — is it any wonder so many of us turn to food as the one highlight of our day? The one thing that demands nothing of us, doesn’t discriminate against us, does not compel us to first measure up to some outer standard before delivering that oh-so-sweet gratification?

Now, in addition to being told we need to be careful with whom we make friends, lest we “catch” obesity from them — we’re also told that being thin doesn’t really mean you’re thin. In fact, you may look thin but you’re fat on the inside.

Know why I think we’re fat?

Because there’s an endless barrage of messages telling us that we are. It’s known as failure syndrome in the educational arena: we believe up front that we won’t succeed, so we sabotage ourselves rather than actually try our hardest and still fail.

This week I resolve to stop paying attention to outside messages about my weight, and to focus instead on simply doing what I know is good for me: moving my body for at least a half-hour a day; filling up on fruits, veggies and water; and putting my health ahead of whatever the scale says.

FatBlogger has a truly thought-provoking entry on the many roles that food plays in our lives.

Food is in the Garden of Eden, forbidden fruit, crunchy delicious Red Delicious. Don’t eat from the Tree of Knowledge…or nutritional labels. God was right, some things we just don’t want to know.

Food is both deceiving and up-front, both friend and foe, food is a killer of dreams… and African babies (and Mid-Atlantic Appalachian babies too).

Food saves all. I’m hungry. What is food to you?

Food is my best friend and my worst enemy. It’s my mother’s constant nagging about my weight and her needling to have seconds of her pecan pie. It’s the silencer of my son’s constant talking and the trigger for wonderful talks at our family table. Food is what I deny myself routinely while showing my love to my family as I cook for them.

I think it was Audrey Hepburn who once said how much she resented food because it’s something we seek to control our relationship with while not ever being able to actually live without.

Visit FatBlogger and share what food means to you.

I haven’t lost a single pound this week. The good news is that I also haven’t gained a single pound, either.

Anna is doing great, though: 9 pounds down. She’s going off of Alli but still following the eating plan. Way to go, girl!

Chelle dropped two pounds for a total now of forty! She credits her success to Slim-Fast and water.

How’re you doing? Are you ready to lose more this coming week?

I’d be a Skinny Mommy by now if stress or typing actually burned significant amounts of calories. Having spent the entire morning battling with my feed reader, I’d just finished organizing various folders to pull in feeds that I read for my various blogs. The whole idea was to make my blog reading more efficient, more streamlined, leaving me a bit more time each day to, oh, maybe exercise?

And wouldn’t you know it, after three hours of updating everything — right at the very moment I was going to save my work and be done with it — something went wrong. Something horrible: all of my feeds disappeared. All of them!

Unlike, say, payroll software or other software designed by people who actually KNOW that data needs to be automatically backed up, my feed reader doesn’t do that. I’m screwed. I’ve lost everything. An entire morning’s work.

Needless to say, the whole experience got my heart rate going, but I’m guessing that doesn’t really count as exercise, does it?

It was only a matter of time before the male bra, coined in an episode of Seinfeld, actually caught on.

To ease discomfort experienced by overweight males whose chests, like those of their female counterparts, bounce, wobble and tug during exercise, creators of the “Male Support Vest” (manufactured by bra company Enell) are marketing their “manssiere.”

At a whopping $85 each, the item’s not expected to catch on with mainstream America. After all, there’s quite a bit of stigma attached, what with all those jokes between Kramer and Frank Costanza.

I’m guessing any guy who springs for one will figure out faster than my daughter did, when she finally got her first bra, that the damn things are more pain than they’re worth.

Ever considered that contemporary office furniture in your cubicle as your personal gym?

The Alberta Centre for Active Living offers four “yoga at your desk” videos. The routine is designed to counter the effects of sitting at your desk: sore shoulders, poor posture, weak back and abdominal muscles.

Each video is about the length of a coffee break, which means you’ll be too busy exercising to bother with the vending machines.

A little over a month ago, I started taking Alli as part of my effort to lose weight. Here it is, 33 days later and my 30-day supply is out. By that you can probably figure out that I didn’t take it every single meal on every single day: I skipped taking the pill when I knew I’d be eating something high in fat.

As a result, I didn’t experience the “unwanted treatment effects” that frighten so many folks from trying the pill. (Well, with the exception of one night when I turned over cooking duties to my husband, who’s ignorant of what constitutes “dietary fat.”)

That’s the key — and I can’t emphasize the point strongly enough: if you want to avoid the ick factor while taking that pill, don’t eat more than 15-17 grams of fat per meal. Period.

And the weight loss? Oh, it was wonderful at first: seven pounds lost in two weeks. Who wouldn’t like that? The last time I lost weght this fast I was taking Miracle burn, but I’m a bit too cautious with my health these days to dabble with thermogenic supplements now.

Since that seven pound loss… nothing. Not one more pound. Not. One.

Even so, I don’t feel like Alli failed me. In fact, I give it credit for doing something I hadn’t been able to do myself prior to taking it: I’ve learned to eat low fat simply out of fear of those “treatment effects”. After a month of eating that way, I feel physically better than I have in years.

I have more energy, my skin is clearer, I sleep better at night and I’m not sluggish and tired by 4 p.m. anymore. Yes, some of that may also be due to exercising a bit more regularly these days, but I have no doubt the dietary change has also helped.

Now, although I’d love to have lost a bit more weight by this point, I know seven pounds in a month is a respectable loss. I’m happy with it. I really am, although I’d secretly hoped for a “miracle” in that little pill… some magical alchemy that peeled off 20 pounds with no real effort from me. Some near-instantaneous fix.

But perhaps I did get one, at least in part: I’ve made a switch to a far more healthy way of eating, and I’ve had a chance to realize how much good that does my body. I doubt I’ll buy any more Alli — though I won’t rule it out — but now I know how to eat right for my own sake, and not merely to avoid the “ick factor.”

Last night, I dreamt of you.

How gorgeous you were, spread out and waiting for me. Pink in all the right places, hard bone gleaming with juice. White mounds glistening, creamy liquid running down and making puddles beneath you.

Oh, how I want you, 12-ounce Porterhouse steak and baked potato with sour cream.

I want you bad.

There’s more news about the study that found a rest break between bouts of exercise helps burn more fat. In fact, it has other benefits, too, including more epinephrine (adrenaline) and a rapid decrease of insulin due to lower blood glucose levels.

The study focused on men using an exercise bike and found the best fat-burning took place in a group that rode for two 30-minute blocks divided by a 20-minute rest period.

Of course, this is all dependent upon getting into the “cardio zone” during both exercise episodes, which is best monitored by periodically checking your heart rate or using a pulse oximeter.

Still, who’d have thought that we’d hear exercise news encouraging us to take a break, eh?