Easy. It's basic arithmetic. If 2+2=4, then 500 x 7=3500. That's it in a hazelnut shell. All we need to know to lose one pound a week. Decrease your daily calorie intake by 500 calories (three and a half double stuffed Oreos, one half pint of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream, or a wedge of red velvet cake) and after 168 hours, if we do absolutely nothing else, we'll have dropped 16 ounces. Pretty easy, huh? How is it that most of us capable women who balance corporate ledgers, P&L's, household budgets, even our own checkbooks, struggle to lose weight? It's all about numbers. It is so ridiculously simple, it seems complicated. Addition and subtraction.
Now, you're thinking that 1 pound of quivering flesh lost per week does not equal 20 pounds in 90 days, more like 12. That's right. To lose the twenty big ones in three months, we'll have to shed 1.66 pounds per week. Do the math. That means we've got to ante up an extra 335 calories per day to get there.
Here's the catch (you knew there'd be a catch, always is when it involves something worth working for), that extra .66 pound per week is going to be burned off. Literally. We are going to exercise everyday for the next three months, come hell or high water, for forty five minutes. Three quarters of an hour of aerobic activity a day will sear off approximately 300-350 calories. Again, count the beans. Three hundred calories per day x 7 days per week= 2100 calories (give or take a few). We'll have real data in a week to prove if we're on target. If you have to ramp up your power walking or cut back on your daily ration of International Delight Amaretto Creamer, no big deal. This plan is flexible, adjustable and it's tailored to you, by you.
The next question is: where does the pendulum rest in the number of calories we need a day to lose the blubber? This one is really easy. Google "daily calorie requirements" and you'll get as many corresponding websites as there are meal replacement bars on the market. Punch your height, weight and age into a handy, dandy formula, multiply it by your activity level, press "calculate" and viola!, you've hit your BMR (basal metabolic rate). Your BMR is the number of calories your body would fire off in a day if you opted to lounge in bed and watch "The Office" reruns for twenty four hours. If you simply did nothing else all day, that's the amount of calories you require to do nothing. If you decide to calculate your BMR, be mindful of the light, moderate and heavy activity level categories. Don't fudge here. Trudging up basement stairs all morning, lugging up laundry loads doesn't get you extra calories in the "heavy" activity category. Heavy activity refers to heavy activity; training for a 26.2 mile marathon, swimming across the English Channel. Some days, you may "feel" like you've finished the Iron Man, but more likely, walking the pooch and dragging out the wrought iron patio furniture will still only get you into the "light" activity category. Always better to error on the safe side, that way there's no surprises on Weigh In Day.
Basal Metabolic Rate is a fancy, scientific term for, in my case, 2000 smackeroos. For me to lose one pound a week, I'd have to cut back 500 calories day (are you following?) and that would put my Calories Needed A Day To Lose One Pound Per Week at 1500. There's certainly nothing scientific or magical about that. The good news is 1500 calories is what is recommended for the female contestants on "The Biggest Loser" and I'm not about to argue with the success of losers. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Remember, I am not a physician, exercise physiologist or a nutritionist. I am a 20PO.
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