I’m back by popular* demand, and I’m back with vengeance! Or, I’m just back. At the end of last year, I realized that I had only committed to a year’s worth of writing and had only met one of my two goals, so it seemed fruitless to continue my writing exploits. I felt I was running out of synonyms for the word chubby and I’d tackled every angle I could think of. PLUS, I’m still packin’ some major heat around my midsection. Did I really take on this project for a year and still come out pudgy on the other side? Well yes I did. But I learned a few things along the way.
I didn’t pack on weight overnight and I sure as hell am not going to get rid of it instantaneously either. And do I weigh less now than I did when I started a year ago? Yes I do. Am I in better shape? Fuck yes, I am. Did I complete a half marathon in December? You bet your sweaty balls I did. I tried a million different things – I learned what works for me and most importantly, I learned what doesn’t. Here are just a few of the things that DON’T WORK for me…
1.If I go out to eat, I will not order of the “light menu.” Fuck that. I’m not spending good money to stare loathingly at my own meal while drooling over everyone else’s meals. I want your best food and it will probably have the most calories. Lesson learned: Going out should be a treat – not a regular occurrence.
2.Working out in the morning will turn me homicidal. It’s bad enough being to work at 7 am. Try and make me be active before that and I will cut you.
3.Deadlines don’t work for me. If I don’t hit my weight loss goal by the time I expected to, I will drown my sorrows with peanut butter and a spoon. Sometimes the spoon is optional. NO MORE DEADLINES!
4.I used to have a rule – you can eat in my class as long as I get to sample whatever it is you’re eating. I found myself sampling weird student-made concoctions just to prove that I was awesomely in charge and at the very least, consistent. Kids can’t eat in my class anymore – largely because the school has had a bug infestation problem, but still – quite helpful rule change. Although my students are trained now that if they bust out gum, they damn well better offer me a piece.
5.Without accountability, I will suck. And I’ll probably lie about it. It’s just me weighing in? Meh, I can justify the crap out of anything. It’s all muscle…I’m retaining water because of all the fruit I’ve been eating, the students have been practicing weight gaining voodoo on me. You name it, I’ve concocted it in my crazy head. Now I have a trainer who doesn’t sugar coat ANYTHING. And I find myself working a lot harder.
So there you have it; a few of the things I’ve learned about myself through my weight loss journey. Ha ha, weight loss journey…doesn’t that sound like something you’d hear on Oprah or a self help book? So I didn’t reach my goal in a year, but I learned a lot and I’ll just keep on keepin’ on. A few things that have changed and are working for me are these:
1.A personal trainer is making all the difference. I know that sounds super pretentious and fancy schmancy, and believe me, I'm paying out the ass for it. But meeting with someone three times a week who is getting paid to kick my ass is vamping up my style.
2.I’m not alone – B Money is doing it with me this time around; and by B Money I mean Barrett Badass Brenner. He’s already lost ten pounds this month! (jackass…) So now we’re making healthy breakfast smoothies and shopping for the leanest meats together – it’s so cute it’s nauseating.
3.I still gots my boot camp ladies for a once a week gossip and kickboxing fest. We’re pretty fierce. And not in the “Christian from Project Runway” way; we’re badass. Don’t mess with us in a back alley or we will cut you. Wow, a lot of cutting references today…
4.I stopped buying desserts, even the “healthier” ones. Weirdly enough…I don’t miss it that much. After dinner, I just kind of feel done. And if I don’t, I’ve been making tea and then kicking Barrett’s ass at something so that I don’t miss the sweet feeling of Skinny Cow in my belly.
There’s probably a lot more that I can’t think of at the moment because I am distracted watching Barrett play dodgeball on the Kinnect. The way he’s watching his movements show up on screen is like watching a puppy who has just discovered a mirror for the first time…
The last thing I’ve discovered is that a rigid Monday blog writing schedule isn’t going to work for me anymore. For one, I don’t always have something newsworthy and then I just end up pulling something out of my ass that sounds forced and stupid. Second, I have usually spent all day Monday listening to students complain that they shouldn’t be expected to do anything because it’s Monday. (Interestingly enough, they have these same excuses for everyday of the week). And finally, my Monday evenings are largely monopolized by watching the Bachelor and hoping that these dimwits here me yelling at the TV when I scream things like, “Bitch, you’ve known him for eight minutes! He’s not the one! Go crawl back in the hole you came out of!” I just can’t stop myself. But for anyone who has been watching, isn’t Courtney the worst!?!??!??! To stick with the theme of this afternoon’s blog, I just want to cut her! But Bachelor aside, I figured I’ll just write when the mood strikes. Maybe it will be once a week, maybe once a month, who knows??? But I’ll keep some blogs coming your way, even if it is just to exercise my own creative outlet.
*By popular demand, I mean my mom and a few friends who are bored and like to surf the web at work
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Monday, December 5, 2011
Greetings from Las Vegas!
I write to you from a seat at Gate 26 in Las Vegas, *patiently awaiting my flight to take me back to Portland, where I will slumber for 6 hours and then excitedly arise to educate **eager young minds. And as tired as I am and will be tomorrow, I can’t help feeling stoked that I met one of my big goals this year. And as some of you may have suspected, I did not blow off the 13.1 miles of exercise for a marathon of drinking. Tempting as it may have been. There were moments when the signs for cheap beer sounded like a hell of a lot more fun than running/walking in the freezing cold. But I did it! I completed the ½ marathon in less than 4 hours..which is when they were going to start pulling people off the course. I had this vision of running and hiding from the shuttle vans that were picking up people too slow to finish the race. Actually that might have been fun now that I think about it.
So my goal was just to finish, and I wasn’t really giving too much of a rat’s ass how long it took me. I originally intended on walking the whole thing, but there were some spurts I just felt like running, even if it was just a couple blocks and I wanted to pass somebody because I was sick of staring at their asses. I ended up running a portion of each mile, so I was feeling pretty good about that. I was moving the entire time, with the exception of the 10 minute stop at the Honey Buckets. And NO, I was not in the honey bucket for the whole time….ewwwwwww!!!!! The lines were just REALLY long…although there was one really pushy grandma behind me who told me to hurry it up next time. What did she think I was doing in there? Having a tea party!?! You can kiss the fattest part of my ass, granny!
So after that, I was rockin’ and grooving to my play list and just taking it one mile at a time. Until I was on the ninth mile. That mile went on F.O.R.E.V.E.R. I had my I Pod on pretty loud, so I didn’t notice that mumbling to myself was actually out loud for others to hear. So when I “muttered” “Where the fuck is mile 9?!?!” a gentleman to my left told me we had passed it a while ago and we were coming up on mile 10. Oops. Well, 10 down…3 to go!
It wasn’t until I finished the race that I realized my feet were murdering me and my blisters were epic nasty – I was just too busy trying to get to the finish line. And when I did, they had just run out of medals for the ½ marathon, so I got one for the full marathon. Now I’m fully aware that I didn’t actually run an entire marathon, but that medal went to my head! I found myself checking out other peoples’ ½ marathon medals and thinking to myself, “Couldn’t hack the whole 26 miles, eh?” Never mind these people had the ½ marathon medals because they finished before me and were in time for the real deal medals. We’ll chalk it up to exhaustion and delirium.
Alright, gotta make this quick, they just called my rows for boarding! So congratulations to anyone else who has ever done a marathon or race of any kind, and kudos to those of you who can run the whole thing! Big thanks to the Dorwin family for hanging out with me and making the whole experience more fun!
*Lie
** Bigger lie
So my goal was just to finish, and I wasn’t really giving too much of a rat’s ass how long it took me. I originally intended on walking the whole thing, but there were some spurts I just felt like running, even if it was just a couple blocks and I wanted to pass somebody because I was sick of staring at their asses. I ended up running a portion of each mile, so I was feeling pretty good about that. I was moving the entire time, with the exception of the 10 minute stop at the Honey Buckets. And NO, I was not in the honey bucket for the whole time….ewwwwwww!!!!! The lines were just REALLY long…although there was one really pushy grandma behind me who told me to hurry it up next time. What did she think I was doing in there? Having a tea party!?! You can kiss the fattest part of my ass, granny!
So after that, I was rockin’ and grooving to my play list and just taking it one mile at a time. Until I was on the ninth mile. That mile went on F.O.R.E.V.E.R. I had my I Pod on pretty loud, so I didn’t notice that mumbling to myself was actually out loud for others to hear. So when I “muttered” “Where the fuck is mile 9?!?!” a gentleman to my left told me we had passed it a while ago and we were coming up on mile 10. Oops. Well, 10 down…3 to go!
It wasn’t until I finished the race that I realized my feet were murdering me and my blisters were epic nasty – I was just too busy trying to get to the finish line. And when I did, they had just run out of medals for the ½ marathon, so I got one for the full marathon. Now I’m fully aware that I didn’t actually run an entire marathon, but that medal went to my head! I found myself checking out other peoples’ ½ marathon medals and thinking to myself, “Couldn’t hack the whole 26 miles, eh?” Never mind these people had the ½ marathon medals because they finished before me and were in time for the real deal medals. We’ll chalk it up to exhaustion and delirium.
Alright, gotta make this quick, they just called my rows for boarding! So congratulations to anyone else who has ever done a marathon or race of any kind, and kudos to those of you who can run the whole thing! Big thanks to the Dorwin family for hanging out with me and making the whole experience more fun!
*Lie
** Bigger lie
Monday, November 28, 2011
Gobble Gobble!
Ahoy maties! Long time no chat; Hope your holidays were plentiful and filled with awesomeness. Mine were! The whole fam came down to the Couve to partake in the festivities and we devoured turkey and stuffing like it was going out of style. Shockingly enough, I’m actually down a couple of pounds – how you ask? Well that’s a little tale in itself…
It started a couple of weeks ago when I decided to take the plunge and sign up for L.A. Fitness since it’s only about $30 a month. Plus that pesky initiation fee, but who’s counting? Well I guess it’s pretty standard that when you sign up for a gym, a complimentary training session and fitness evaluation come with. Why pass up free? So last weekend I went in for my freebie session, and they send me to a desk where David, my trainer, is sitting down waiting for me. He stands up to shake my hand, and BAM! We are eye level. Being 5’2 (or if we’re dropping truth bombs I’m 5’1 and ¾) I don’t meet too many guys who are my height. He’s a cute little mini-me! It’s not quite as intimidating to be trained by a Keebler elf, so I’m feeling good. (And P.S. it’s completely kosher for me to make fun of him because I’m short too).
But then, being the pint-sized little devil that he is, David started dropping truth bombs of his own. As in, he made me measure my body fat content. Want to ruin your Sunday morning? Find out that you are wallowing in a big sea of excess fat! I mean, I’m aware my ass isn’t fitting into size 2 jeans, but I’m also able to live in a blissful land of denial that the second helping of homemade mac and cheese isn’t killing me slowly. The wakeup call hit me hard, but not as hard as the 20 minute workout that came next. I don’t know how that tiny sorcerer managed to warp my muscles into limp piles of Jell-0, but he did. He had me doing wall sits while bouncing medicine balls, holing lunges for far longer than should be acceptable, and planks that made obscenities fly inadvertently out of my mouth. It wasn’t until about 4 days later until I could sit down on the toilet without lowering myself slowly while weeping.
It didn’t take long to convince me that this guy was legit and if I really want to transform myself, I’d need some accountability. (Although I probably could have done without him pointing out the girls in the gym he’d like to “have relations” with – we get it. They’re hot. Is this supposed to be motivation?) But I did it. I made a 12 month commitment to get my ass kicked twice a week – and I dropped quite a pretty penny to do it. For that amount of money, I better look BANGIN’ in a year’s time. So between my personal training sessions over the last week and my long walks gearing up for the ½ marathon on Sunday, I actually managed to lose weight over the holiday week. If that’s not BOMB DOT COM, I don’t know what is!
So next Monday I will be writing this blog from the Vegas Airport, hopefully relaying you with details of how I made the marathon my bitch! I’m out to buy some water resistant socks tomorrow and I’m then I’m raring to go! Have an excellent week and I’ll check in with you soon : )
It started a couple of weeks ago when I decided to take the plunge and sign up for L.A. Fitness since it’s only about $30 a month. Plus that pesky initiation fee, but who’s counting? Well I guess it’s pretty standard that when you sign up for a gym, a complimentary training session and fitness evaluation come with. Why pass up free? So last weekend I went in for my freebie session, and they send me to a desk where David, my trainer, is sitting down waiting for me. He stands up to shake my hand, and BAM! We are eye level. Being 5’2 (or if we’re dropping truth bombs I’m 5’1 and ¾) I don’t meet too many guys who are my height. He’s a cute little mini-me! It’s not quite as intimidating to be trained by a Keebler elf, so I’m feeling good. (And P.S. it’s completely kosher for me to make fun of him because I’m short too).
But then, being the pint-sized little devil that he is, David started dropping truth bombs of his own. As in, he made me measure my body fat content. Want to ruin your Sunday morning? Find out that you are wallowing in a big sea of excess fat! I mean, I’m aware my ass isn’t fitting into size 2 jeans, but I’m also able to live in a blissful land of denial that the second helping of homemade mac and cheese isn’t killing me slowly. The wakeup call hit me hard, but not as hard as the 20 minute workout that came next. I don’t know how that tiny sorcerer managed to warp my muscles into limp piles of Jell-0, but he did. He had me doing wall sits while bouncing medicine balls, holing lunges for far longer than should be acceptable, and planks that made obscenities fly inadvertently out of my mouth. It wasn’t until about 4 days later until I could sit down on the toilet without lowering myself slowly while weeping.
It didn’t take long to convince me that this guy was legit and if I really want to transform myself, I’d need some accountability. (Although I probably could have done without him pointing out the girls in the gym he’d like to “have relations” with – we get it. They’re hot. Is this supposed to be motivation?) But I did it. I made a 12 month commitment to get my ass kicked twice a week – and I dropped quite a pretty penny to do it. For that amount of money, I better look BANGIN’ in a year’s time. So between my personal training sessions over the last week and my long walks gearing up for the ½ marathon on Sunday, I actually managed to lose weight over the holiday week. If that’s not BOMB DOT COM, I don’t know what is!
So next Monday I will be writing this blog from the Vegas Airport, hopefully relaying you with details of how I made the marathon my bitch! I’m out to buy some water resistant socks tomorrow and I’m then I’m raring to go! Have an excellent week and I’ll check in with you soon : )
Monday, November 14, 2011
The Turkey Day Conundrum
Ahhhhhh, the holidays are upon us. Next week we will become tubby from turkey, plump from pie, stout from stuffing, bloated from something starting with a “b”…. I think we’re done with the alliteration portion of this program. So how do you guys keep from ballooning up over the holidays? I’m accustomed to wearing elastic pants and stretching out my stomach a few days ahead of time to allow for maximum consumption. I usually make holiday eating an Olympic style event. It takes preparation and training, and then on game day, you give 110%.
So how to adapt after 27 years of bountiful Thanksgivings? I don’t see myself making “skim” versions or anything, because I still believe mashed potatoes aren’t real mashed potatoes unless you can see the butter glistening from across the room! And there are some holidays worth being fat for, but it’s that attitude that gets me in trouble in the first place. Turkey Day is my all time fave, but I think I need a happy medium between a boring and bland Thanksgiving and a holiday where I spend 3 hours on the couch groaning and clutching my stomach in agony. Maybe I’ll cool it on the thirds and fourths this year…this is going to be a challenge of epic proportions.
In other news, I’m getting ready to head to Vegas in a few weeks for the ½ marathon! And I’m not just excited because I get to take a day off of work and have a hiatus from the kids… It’s going to be super awesome and I’ve started to kick it into high gear. I’m walking three miles and weight lifting most days and then upping it to 5 or 6 miles once a week. Next week I’ll be doing a 7 or 8 mile walk and then finally I’ll bust it out to a nine or ten stretch. So come December 4th, I’m going to be rocking the strip like nobody’s business!
So the moral of the story is that I’ve got to keep my eyes on the prize – can’t be overcome by pumpkin pie and let all the hard work from the last few weeks go to shit – Must. Keep. Going. I know myself all too well – if I start chowing down in my usual fashion, all will to exercise and strive for awesomeness is GONE. I will enter a food coma and not come out of it for a good long while. So I’m asking all of you – how do you stay relatively healthy? Or are you like me and just say to hell with it – go big or go home? Any advice would be glorious!
So how to adapt after 27 years of bountiful Thanksgivings? I don’t see myself making “skim” versions or anything, because I still believe mashed potatoes aren’t real mashed potatoes unless you can see the butter glistening from across the room! And there are some holidays worth being fat for, but it’s that attitude that gets me in trouble in the first place. Turkey Day is my all time fave, but I think I need a happy medium between a boring and bland Thanksgiving and a holiday where I spend 3 hours on the couch groaning and clutching my stomach in agony. Maybe I’ll cool it on the thirds and fourths this year…this is going to be a challenge of epic proportions.
In other news, I’m getting ready to head to Vegas in a few weeks for the ½ marathon! And I’m not just excited because I get to take a day off of work and have a hiatus from the kids… It’s going to be super awesome and I’ve started to kick it into high gear. I’m walking three miles and weight lifting most days and then upping it to 5 or 6 miles once a week. Next week I’ll be doing a 7 or 8 mile walk and then finally I’ll bust it out to a nine or ten stretch. So come December 4th, I’m going to be rocking the strip like nobody’s business!
So the moral of the story is that I’ve got to keep my eyes on the prize – can’t be overcome by pumpkin pie and let all the hard work from the last few weeks go to shit – Must. Keep. Going. I know myself all too well – if I start chowing down in my usual fashion, all will to exercise and strive for awesomeness is GONE. I will enter a food coma and not come out of it for a good long while. So I’m asking all of you – how do you stay relatively healthy? Or are you like me and just say to hell with it – go big or go home? Any advice would be glorious!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Was That an Eight Year Old Dominatrix?
Um……apparently my scale didn’t get the message that it’s a holiday and therefore calories don’t count, because it’s not budging. It’s not my fault I had to test the candy PRIOR to giving it to trick or treaters…I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the death of dozens of neighborhood children. I DO NOT WANT THAT BLOOD ON MY HANDS! So after ensuring that the Butterfingers, and Baby Ruths, and Almond Joys were safe for consumption, I will sleep soundly tonight knowing that kids of all ages are alive and well and enjoying a poison-free sugar high.
The fact that it’s Halloween has had multiple effects today. A) Teenagers have been moody because I made them work on a “holiday.” B) I must be getting old, because I cannot stop talking about how the costumes these days are too revealing for children! I could have sworn an 8 year old dominatrix just knocked on my door under the guise of a “punk.” C) I am once again reminded that my midsection isn’t quite where I want it to be to fit into a skanky costume.
I’m 20 pounds lighter than last Halloween, but that doesn’t mean that my cellulite needs to be on display for the world to see. But oddly enough, I wasn’t eyeing the risqué costumes with the same zeal and envy as last year. Have I grown past my desire to dress like a complete whore? Hmmmmm, something to contemplate, because I am sitting here in my non slutty sweat pants, writing this blog, and running up and down the stairs handing out candy to youngsters, and I’m perfectly OK with that. (Well technically we just turned out the lights because now all the teenagers are out and those nasty Whoppers are the only candy we have left).
But if slutty costumes aren’t my motivation, I can tell you what is. I’ll give you a hint: it’s green, has dead presidents’ faces on it, and I usually use way too much of it at a certain coffee establishment that starts with an S and ends with a tarbucks. That’s right…SHOW ME THE MONEY! Boot camp just got real, ya’all! Each member is putting in money every week from now through the holiday season – after New Years, whoever has lost the most percentage of weight gets the whole shebang! That’s quite a little kick in the ass if I ever heard of one! So ya know, if dressing like a streetwalker and/or having a healthy heart doesn’t give me the jumpstart like it should, there’s always cash! So bring it on folks, because I’m poor and in need of my fix! (My Powell’s Bookstore fix that is!)
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
The fact that it’s Halloween has had multiple effects today. A) Teenagers have been moody because I made them work on a “holiday.” B) I must be getting old, because I cannot stop talking about how the costumes these days are too revealing for children! I could have sworn an 8 year old dominatrix just knocked on my door under the guise of a “punk.” C) I am once again reminded that my midsection isn’t quite where I want it to be to fit into a skanky costume.
I’m 20 pounds lighter than last Halloween, but that doesn’t mean that my cellulite needs to be on display for the world to see. But oddly enough, I wasn’t eyeing the risqué costumes with the same zeal and envy as last year. Have I grown past my desire to dress like a complete whore? Hmmmmm, something to contemplate, because I am sitting here in my non slutty sweat pants, writing this blog, and running up and down the stairs handing out candy to youngsters, and I’m perfectly OK with that. (Well technically we just turned out the lights because now all the teenagers are out and those nasty Whoppers are the only candy we have left).
But if slutty costumes aren’t my motivation, I can tell you what is. I’ll give you a hint: it’s green, has dead presidents’ faces on it, and I usually use way too much of it at a certain coffee establishment that starts with an S and ends with a tarbucks. That’s right…SHOW ME THE MONEY! Boot camp just got real, ya’all! Each member is putting in money every week from now through the holiday season – after New Years, whoever has lost the most percentage of weight gets the whole shebang! That’s quite a little kick in the ass if I ever heard of one! So ya know, if dressing like a streetwalker and/or having a healthy heart doesn’t give me the jumpstart like it should, there’s always cash! So bring it on folks, because I’m poor and in need of my fix! (My Powell’s Bookstore fix that is!)
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Monday, October 24, 2011
I am a Tower of Power!
So for the love of all that is holy, and for my sanity as well as yours, I decided to put this whole Eeyore sad sack thing on the back burner for now and be HAPPY! And what isn’t there to be happy about? Persimmons have finally made their way back to Costco! (I can only buy one dozen at a time because I can go to town on a bowl of those bitches). I showed a movie last week in class, and therefore there was considerably less whining. I went to a concert put on by Tower of Power and got my underwear signed by some aging funk stars! It was brand new underwear in case you were wondering…I didn’t want the funk stars to smell my funk if you catch my drift…AND, to top it all off, I went out Friday night and drank like a college frat boy, and IT. WAS. AWESOME. I haven’t done that in ages and it was the remedy I needed.
But beyond that, I also stuck to my workout goal. Granted, it wasn’t a super high reaching goal to get three workouts in, but it tripled the amount of workouts I’ve had in the last few weeks. I zumba’d (is that a verb?) with the teachers, burned massive amounts of calories at boot camp, and worked out at LA Fitness (more on that to come).
Boot camp had an edge this week because I was the only one there. Just me and Amber. No distractions, nowhere to hide, no mercy. Amber’s working out along side of me, and I have no legit excuses because I didn’t just push a human out of my vagina 4 weeks ago. I had to suck it up and go the distance. Among other things, I did 140 triceps dips that day. My shoulders were on fire. If I could have smacked Amber I would have, but she would have needed to lift my arms up to help me do it. But that one on one workout was the kick in the ass I’ve been missing and needing. I left there with my lungs week and my body a throbbing mess – and it’s the best I’ve felt in a LONG time.
So now for the gym. Quick backtrack – Barrett and I quit the membership to the old folks country club because it was too pricy and we were finding more resourceful ways to work out. But then like a beacon of awesomeness, I came home one day to find a 30 day free pass to LA Fitness taped to my door. Thirty days of a free gym membership? Don’t mind if I do! So yesterday I stroll into the gym ready to drop it like it’s hot, but I forgot that anytime you go into a new gym, they do that whole consultation thing about your fitness goals and your workout history and your blood type and childhood aspirations and yada yada yada. So I’m about to meet with my new gym correspondent, whose muscles are too big and whose teeth are too white, and I start feeling just the teensiest bit intimidated. But then he starts talking, and he’s a doll and not intimidating at all, and is even more fabulous because he’s gay. This guy is going to be my new gay best friend and we’re going to be workout buddies and shopping partners. BUT THEN….he mentions his wife and daughter. BACK THE TRUCK UP. How are you not gay? You just used the phrase, “Let’s get real girl, mmmmkay?” Why are the good ones always straight!?!?!? Such a shame.
So my allegedly straight new gym buddy gives me the tour, and it’s pretty fancy schmancy - a lot different than I’m used to, but the equipment is plentiful and clean, so sign me up! I hop on a treadmill, and because I forgot my I Pod, I’m doing a lot of people watching to make the time go by faster. Holy hot pants, Batman! What’s with all the matching gym wear? When did it become uncool to throw on yesterday’s smelly t-shirt and call it good? AND WHERE ARE ALL THE OTHER CHUBBY PEOPLE!?!?!? Why is everyone in shape and wearing color coordinated outfits? I can barely get my work clothes to match, let alone my gym shoes and gym shirt! I miss the old farts! What is this place!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
I didn’t realize it at first, but it hit me when I was working out at this place that it’s been a LONG time since I’ve been to a legitimate fitness club. Not that the gym at the country club wasn’t great, but it helps your self esteem when you’re the youngest one there by about 60 years. So now I’ve got a lot of catching up to do and I think I need to go shopping for studly gym attire. But to step it up a notch, I’m insisting to myself that I get four workouts in this week, and at least two of them will be at the big, scary new gym. And I’m excited about it, because hot diggity damn, it felt soooooooo good to work out again – it was just the stress relief and “me time” that I needed. So here’s to “me time” and happiness and restored optimism that will hopefully last longer than a week – cheers and ‘til next time!
But beyond that, I also stuck to my workout goal. Granted, it wasn’t a super high reaching goal to get three workouts in, but it tripled the amount of workouts I’ve had in the last few weeks. I zumba’d (is that a verb?) with the teachers, burned massive amounts of calories at boot camp, and worked out at LA Fitness (more on that to come).
Boot camp had an edge this week because I was the only one there. Just me and Amber. No distractions, nowhere to hide, no mercy. Amber’s working out along side of me, and I have no legit excuses because I didn’t just push a human out of my vagina 4 weeks ago. I had to suck it up and go the distance. Among other things, I did 140 triceps dips that day. My shoulders were on fire. If I could have smacked Amber I would have, but she would have needed to lift my arms up to help me do it. But that one on one workout was the kick in the ass I’ve been missing and needing. I left there with my lungs week and my body a throbbing mess – and it’s the best I’ve felt in a LONG time.
So now for the gym. Quick backtrack – Barrett and I quit the membership to the old folks country club because it was too pricy and we were finding more resourceful ways to work out. But then like a beacon of awesomeness, I came home one day to find a 30 day free pass to LA Fitness taped to my door. Thirty days of a free gym membership? Don’t mind if I do! So yesterday I stroll into the gym ready to drop it like it’s hot, but I forgot that anytime you go into a new gym, they do that whole consultation thing about your fitness goals and your workout history and your blood type and childhood aspirations and yada yada yada. So I’m about to meet with my new gym correspondent, whose muscles are too big and whose teeth are too white, and I start feeling just the teensiest bit intimidated. But then he starts talking, and he’s a doll and not intimidating at all, and is even more fabulous because he’s gay. This guy is going to be my new gay best friend and we’re going to be workout buddies and shopping partners. BUT THEN….he mentions his wife and daughter. BACK THE TRUCK UP. How are you not gay? You just used the phrase, “Let’s get real girl, mmmmkay?” Why are the good ones always straight!?!?!? Such a shame.
So my allegedly straight new gym buddy gives me the tour, and it’s pretty fancy schmancy - a lot different than I’m used to, but the equipment is plentiful and clean, so sign me up! I hop on a treadmill, and because I forgot my I Pod, I’m doing a lot of people watching to make the time go by faster. Holy hot pants, Batman! What’s with all the matching gym wear? When did it become uncool to throw on yesterday’s smelly t-shirt and call it good? AND WHERE ARE ALL THE OTHER CHUBBY PEOPLE!?!?!? Why is everyone in shape and wearing color coordinated outfits? I can barely get my work clothes to match, let alone my gym shoes and gym shirt! I miss the old farts! What is this place!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
I didn’t realize it at first, but it hit me when I was working out at this place that it’s been a LONG time since I’ve been to a legitimate fitness club. Not that the gym at the country club wasn’t great, but it helps your self esteem when you’re the youngest one there by about 60 years. So now I’ve got a lot of catching up to do and I think I need to go shopping for studly gym attire. But to step it up a notch, I’m insisting to myself that I get four workouts in this week, and at least two of them will be at the big, scary new gym. And I’m excited about it, because hot diggity damn, it felt soooooooo good to work out again – it was just the stress relief and “me time” that I needed. So here’s to “me time” and happiness and restored optimism that will hopefully last longer than a week – cheers and ‘til next time!
Monday, October 17, 2011
CRY BABY
So, I know, second blog in a month that has been skipped. I’m not making a habit of it, I swear! Last week I had a case of the flu/cold/whatever requires a Nyquil at 7 pm. Trust me though, you wouldn’t have wanted to hear from me…not only would you probably have caught my germs through the blog, but it would have been another endless pity party featuring yours truly.
You know how in movies, there’s usually that video montage of moments that plays to some sappy song that captures an ongoing theme? Well picture this. Janis Joplin’s “Cry Baby” is wailing in the background and the scene starts with Emily weeping in the morning over her tea because she has to go to work, and then it pans to Emily blubbering on her lunch break, and then laying on the couch watching Desperate Housewives and whining (all the while stuffing her face with whatever processed food is within reach) and finally, stepping on the scale with a big over dramatic sob. And there you have it, folks! While this is a minor embellishment for theatrical purposes (I know…the fact that I would exaggerate is shocking), I’ve been a giant succubus of joy. Seriously – I’m like those guys in Harry Potter that can suck any happiness right out of ya!
To put it nicely, work has been sucking my will to live. Not only am I drowning in a sea of paperwork and grades, but I’m teaching the classes that kids don’t want to be in. Or so they tell me on a regular basis. Nobody wants to be in the “I need extra help with reading” class, and try as I might, I can’t seem to make learning about text book features any fun for them. So I meet resistance every day. And my optimism is waning and my self esteem is going down the crapper. And have I let this affect my life and healthy lifestyle? You bet your ass I have!
What’s wrong with me!?!?!? How am I letting 14 year olds have this much impact? And why is it that the positive comments and interactions throughout the day never quite stick with you the way the crappy ones do? But holy hell, I can’t even listen to myself mope anymore. Every I time I start to whine, I just want to bitch slap myself! And the thing of it is, I’m sacrificing the things that make me feel better and stronger. I’ve been mustering up just one workout a week and eating like I’m carrying triplets. Miraculously, the stress has managed to keep me from ballooning up the Good Year Blimp, but the scale still isn’t pretty – I’m down to a just a 21 pound loss. If you want to put a positive spin on it – I’ve lost about 40 pounds this year. Unfortunately…I’ve gained 19 of them back…
So what to do, what to do… I can’t keep whining and coming up with excuses. It’s dumb. And lame. And stupid. So I can either let these ass hats eat me alive, or I can go all Michelle Pheifer Minds on their asses, get a leather jacket and be a badass who doesn’t take crap from no one! ORRRRRR, I could accept the nature of the beast and stop letting it control my life outside of school because hater's gonna hate. ORRRRRR…I could get a badass leather jacket AND stop letting them get to me. Because I’ve got stuff to do and tiny thighs to get, and a half marathon in 6 weeks! So let’s break this down in a non-whiny way.
MY SOLEMN COMMITMENS THIS WEEK
1.I will NOT complain about my job this week to ANYONE. If I’m sick of hearing about it…chances are other people are as well.
2.I will do something positive for myself everyday that doesn’t involve the boob tube. (this is very self helpy, but I don’t care)
3.I will get 3 workouts in this week – starting with Zumba tomorrow in the staff lounge. (This has been organized by the staff…I don’t just randomly bust out in Latin exercises throughout the school building.)
4.I will count EVERY LAST DAMN WEIGHT WATCHER POINT THAT GOES INTO MY MOUTH
5.When I am stressed I will Google pictures of baby hippopotamuses because they make me happy.
You know how in movies, there’s usually that video montage of moments that plays to some sappy song that captures an ongoing theme? Well picture this. Janis Joplin’s “Cry Baby” is wailing in the background and the scene starts with Emily weeping in the morning over her tea because she has to go to work, and then it pans to Emily blubbering on her lunch break, and then laying on the couch watching Desperate Housewives and whining (all the while stuffing her face with whatever processed food is within reach) and finally, stepping on the scale with a big over dramatic sob. And there you have it, folks! While this is a minor embellishment for theatrical purposes (I know…the fact that I would exaggerate is shocking), I’ve been a giant succubus of joy. Seriously – I’m like those guys in Harry Potter that can suck any happiness right out of ya!
To put it nicely, work has been sucking my will to live. Not only am I drowning in a sea of paperwork and grades, but I’m teaching the classes that kids don’t want to be in. Or so they tell me on a regular basis. Nobody wants to be in the “I need extra help with reading” class, and try as I might, I can’t seem to make learning about text book features any fun for them. So I meet resistance every day. And my optimism is waning and my self esteem is going down the crapper. And have I let this affect my life and healthy lifestyle? You bet your ass I have!
What’s wrong with me!?!?!? How am I letting 14 year olds have this much impact? And why is it that the positive comments and interactions throughout the day never quite stick with you the way the crappy ones do? But holy hell, I can’t even listen to myself mope anymore. Every I time I start to whine, I just want to bitch slap myself! And the thing of it is, I’m sacrificing the things that make me feel better and stronger. I’ve been mustering up just one workout a week and eating like I’m carrying triplets. Miraculously, the stress has managed to keep me from ballooning up the Good Year Blimp, but the scale still isn’t pretty – I’m down to a just a 21 pound loss. If you want to put a positive spin on it – I’ve lost about 40 pounds this year. Unfortunately…I’ve gained 19 of them back…
So what to do, what to do… I can’t keep whining and coming up with excuses. It’s dumb. And lame. And stupid. So I can either let these ass hats eat me alive, or I can go all Michelle Pheifer Minds on their asses, get a leather jacket and be a badass who doesn’t take crap from no one! ORRRRRR, I could accept the nature of the beast and stop letting it control my life outside of school because hater's gonna hate. ORRRRRR…I could get a badass leather jacket AND stop letting them get to me. Because I’ve got stuff to do and tiny thighs to get, and a half marathon in 6 weeks! So let’s break this down in a non-whiny way.
MY SOLEMN COMMITMENS THIS WEEK
1.I will NOT complain about my job this week to ANYONE. If I’m sick of hearing about it…chances are other people are as well.
2.I will do something positive for myself everyday that doesn’t involve the boob tube. (this is very self helpy, but I don’t care)
3.I will get 3 workouts in this week – starting with Zumba tomorrow in the staff lounge. (This has been organized by the staff…I don’t just randomly bust out in Latin exercises throughout the school building.)
4.I will count EVERY LAST DAMN WEIGHT WATCHER POINT THAT GOES INTO MY MOUTH
5.When I am stressed I will Google pictures of baby hippopotamuses because they make me happy.
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