So last week I wrote my blog from the airport and was mostly reminiscing about how I completely screwed the pooch during my vacation. As it turns out, I didn’t gain any weight that whole week. I didn’t lose any either, but that still counts as an awesome victory in my book! This week I got back to point tracking and resumed exercising four times a week. I even busted out some of my moves from high school swim team (and could do about an eighth of what I used to do). I say for the most part I was doing quite well, with the exception of Saturday night.
When friends come to town, and more importantly, volunteer to be the designated drivers for the evening, you don’t turn that shit down. You take FULL advantage. Now that I’m old and I can practically tuck my boobs into my pants, nights out don’t come around that often anymore. I’m usually in my sweat pants by 4:30 pm, so this was a treat to go out drinking with friends. So one drink turned into two, turned into four, throw in some shots (can’t take those like I used to either) and pretty soon I’m thaaaaaat girl. Saturday night was one of my tamer nights, but get liquor in me, and I’ll tell you anything and more you could ever want to know about me. I’ll stick my finger in random peoples’ random orifices, and I will lick drinks off of tables. And then I’ll eat. And eat. And probably eat some more. So Saturday night after drinking my last “Adios Mother Fucker,” I came home and gorged on Pad Thai like it was going out of style. It’s funny how alcohol can make your common sense and better judgment go right out the window. I wonder if people know about this side effect…maybe they should put warnings on the bottles.
But despite my best efforts to drink like a 22 year old and sabotage all my hard work for the week, I still lost 1.3 pounds. So my grand total for the month of January is six pounds even. At first I was a little discouraged. It took me a whole month to lose six stupid pounds? But then I thought about it again – 6 pounds is equivalent to 24 sticks of butter! I am 24 sticks of butter lighter than I was on January first, and why in hell wouldn’t I be proud of that? Is the weight loss going slowly? Yes, but am I obsessing about food and feeling guilty every time I indulge a little? Fuck no, I’m not. (Well not most of the time anyways). I’m working out and I can do more than I can a month ago, and I feel like my face looks a little bit less like a Cabbage Patch doll. And I treated myself to a pedicure, my five pound reward, and damn it, I feel pretty good! If I keep at exactly this pace, I’ll be 72 pounds lighter at the end of the year, and I would look smoooooooookin! I’d tap it.
So February is a brand new month and starting out with one hell of bang. On the first I’m flying to Hawaii. I know, I know, I just got back from vacation, but this was a stellar deal and I’ve been planning it for months. Don’t be a hater just because you’re stuck at work. I’m a substitute teacher right now so I’m poor no matter what I do; might as well be poor on a beach in Hawaii. But I have a good feeling about this week – my mom and I are staying with my aunt and planning on doing a lot of cooking at home. I’ve also decided to do some hiking and lots o’ swimming, so I think I can stay the course. So next week, feel free to hate my guts, because I’ll be writing this blog from the beach. Sucks to not be me. Although most of you would probably look better in a swim suit, so you have that going for you. Have a fantastic week! I know I will.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Win Some, Lose Some
Ooooohhhhhhh, brother. The week started out so promising. The first few days were full of Denise Austin workouts and stationary bikes, and staying within my Weight Watchers points. Ah, the glory days. Then things started getting sketchy at girls night with my second helping of strawberry shortcake, but I was still tracking my points and maintaining balance. And then came vacation. BOOM! System meltdown!
So now I’m sitting at the airport, waiting for my plane back to Portland, and thinking about this week. The vacation didn’t start out on such a hot note; I showed up in San Diego sick as a fucking dog. I blame substitute teaching and all the kids whose sole purpose is to spread germs! Little ass-hats. So straight away I have no energy, and come on now, who can expect me to work out under these conditions!?!?! It’s just unreasonable! Thankfully I’m very brave and was able to drag myself out of bed the next day and make it to the beach, but just barely. It was kind of heroic, really. If you’d been there, you probably would have been inspired to move mountains.
So working out is not in the cards, and to top it off, we’re getting taken out to dinner and being force-fed home cooked meals. What was I supposed to do? Turn down these generous offerings? Say no to a second helping? That would have just been rude! I wasn’t raised in a barn! So, being the polite and awesome person that I am, I ate for the sake of others and didn’t enjoy a morsel. HA! Nah, to be honest, I ate more than I should have, but I did some damage control. I went to the grocery store and bought some Weight Watcher breakfasts and lunches so I could keep myself in check for at least part of the day. Dinner time, on the other hand, was a whole different ballgame. I like to think that I could have been worse. I stopped myself at two pieces of pizza when I could have easily eaten four. I ate half my cupcake instead of a whole one. OK, OK, I finished the other half ten minutes later, but there was a noticeable break! And, as I became less phlegm-filled, we started walking around more and trekking our asses around the zoo and along the coastline.
Even with my minimal efforts to stave off ballooning up like a hippopotamus, I’m fairly certain the scale promises to kick my ass when I get back tonight. They say that calories don’t count on vacation; unfortunately, I tend to treat my life like a vacation. I guess this week will be a reminder that my ass will get fatter, vacation or not. Am I going to let a few, calorie filled days on vacation turn into an excuse to stop following my goal? Fuck no! I’m going to get right back on the horse, even if that horse might buckle under my gargantuan behind. Here’s to a fresh start tomorrow.
So now I’m sitting at the airport, waiting for my plane back to Portland, and thinking about this week. The vacation didn’t start out on such a hot note; I showed up in San Diego sick as a fucking dog. I blame substitute teaching and all the kids whose sole purpose is to spread germs! Little ass-hats. So straight away I have no energy, and come on now, who can expect me to work out under these conditions!?!?! It’s just unreasonable! Thankfully I’m very brave and was able to drag myself out of bed the next day and make it to the beach, but just barely. It was kind of heroic, really. If you’d been there, you probably would have been inspired to move mountains.
So working out is not in the cards, and to top it off, we’re getting taken out to dinner and being force-fed home cooked meals. What was I supposed to do? Turn down these generous offerings? Say no to a second helping? That would have just been rude! I wasn’t raised in a barn! So, being the polite and awesome person that I am, I ate for the sake of others and didn’t enjoy a morsel. HA! Nah, to be honest, I ate more than I should have, but I did some damage control. I went to the grocery store and bought some Weight Watcher breakfasts and lunches so I could keep myself in check for at least part of the day. Dinner time, on the other hand, was a whole different ballgame. I like to think that I could have been worse. I stopped myself at two pieces of pizza when I could have easily eaten four. I ate half my cupcake instead of a whole one. OK, OK, I finished the other half ten minutes later, but there was a noticeable break! And, as I became less phlegm-filled, we started walking around more and trekking our asses around the zoo and along the coastline.
Even with my minimal efforts to stave off ballooning up like a hippopotamus, I’m fairly certain the scale promises to kick my ass when I get back tonight. They say that calories don’t count on vacation; unfortunately, I tend to treat my life like a vacation. I guess this week will be a reminder that my ass will get fatter, vacation or not. Am I going to let a few, calorie filled days on vacation turn into an excuse to stop following my goal? Fuck no! I’m going to get right back on the horse, even if that horse might buckle under my gargantuan behind. Here’s to a fresh start tomorrow.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Operation Shrinking Ass
Operation Shrink My Ass is successfully underway! Last week I lost three pounds and this week I lost another 1.7 for a grand total of 4.7 pounds! Just missed the mark on five pounds, (I promised myself a pedicure when I lost five pounds) but considering the week I had, I’m just stoked that I didn’t balloon up. A week of birthday parties, football games, and PMS related chocolate cravings made for some serious challenges. And anyone who thinks that PMS cravings are nothing but mind over matter has clearly never been a woman and should feel free to shove it. But despite my setbacks, with a little moderation and exercising this week, I managed not to add anymore cushion for the pushin’.
This week I tried a few new exercises this week to keep things spicy; some were a hit and some, ummmm, not so much. I incorporated some jogging into my walks, and I didn’t immediately want to cut off my own feet. I’ll take that as a good sign. I also thought I’d try something called Cardioke, which is exactly like it sounds: a combination of cardio and karaoke. I looooooove to sing. No one likes to listen, but I’ll sing anytime, anywhere! Why not when I’m working out? Well, I now have mad respect for performers who can dance their asses off and sing at the same time. My rendition sounded a little like this: Don’tcha *huff* wish your *puff* girlfriend was *pant* hot like *huff* me *gasp and keel over to die.* I’m telling you, singing while working out is INTENSE. And kind of fun. But mostly intense.
I was actually kind of enjoying the workout until it got to the cool down. The creator of Cardioke is Billy Blanks Jr., the son of the Taebo Empire. So Taebo Jr. and his wife wrote a song that is sung during the cool down, and for real, it’s called “You are Enough.” It’s supposed to be motivational and spread the message of self acceptance, but all I can think to myself is, “No shit Billy. Of course I’m enough. I’m actually more than enough, hence the reason I’m doing your fucking Cardioke video in the first place.”I swear a lot when I’m sweaty. I had to turn it off and finish stretching on my own, otherwise I might have vomited in my mouth. Would I do Cardioke again? Yes. Would I turn it off before the inspirational-vomit-inducing cool down? Most definitely.
The other exercise video I tried that was a “never-again-you-couldn’t-pay-me-to-do-this-shit” was the 8 Moves workout. From the title I gathered that there would be eight key moves, but I thought there would be at least some sort of variation for each move. Nope! It was eight moves on repeat for 40 minutes! And half of these moves are animal moves, as in, walk like a bear, crab walk, slither like an alligator, and waddle like a duck. You are supposed to do these animal imitations for minute long increments, but my living room is about eleven square inches, so I’m just crab walking in teeny tiny circles around the ottoman. So not only do I look and feel like a jackass, but I’m also bored out of my skull. Sweaty and bored, but bored nonetheless. I ended up stopping it half way through and went for a jog instead. Lesson learned.
So after singing and bear walking my way through the week, I’m down almost five pounds and feeling pretty good. The end of this week is going to bring forth another challenge I haven’t faced yet: going on vacation. My awesome boyfriend is taking me to San Diego for a long weekend, and I know myself all too well. All I will want to do is plop my ass down on the beach with a good book and stuff my face full of daiquiris all weekend. So I’m going to have to find some sort of compromise and maybe sneak a workout or two in between beach reading and daiquiris. Should be an interesting week…stay tuned!
This week I tried a few new exercises this week to keep things spicy; some were a hit and some, ummmm, not so much. I incorporated some jogging into my walks, and I didn’t immediately want to cut off my own feet. I’ll take that as a good sign. I also thought I’d try something called Cardioke, which is exactly like it sounds: a combination of cardio and karaoke. I looooooove to sing. No one likes to listen, but I’ll sing anytime, anywhere! Why not when I’m working out? Well, I now have mad respect for performers who can dance their asses off and sing at the same time. My rendition sounded a little like this: Don’tcha *huff* wish your *puff* girlfriend was *pant* hot like *huff* me *gasp and keel over to die.* I’m telling you, singing while working out is INTENSE. And kind of fun. But mostly intense.
I was actually kind of enjoying the workout until it got to the cool down. The creator of Cardioke is Billy Blanks Jr., the son of the Taebo Empire. So Taebo Jr. and his wife wrote a song that is sung during the cool down, and for real, it’s called “You are Enough.” It’s supposed to be motivational and spread the message of self acceptance, but all I can think to myself is, “No shit Billy. Of course I’m enough. I’m actually more than enough, hence the reason I’m doing your fucking Cardioke video in the first place.”I swear a lot when I’m sweaty. I had to turn it off and finish stretching on my own, otherwise I might have vomited in my mouth. Would I do Cardioke again? Yes. Would I turn it off before the inspirational-vomit-inducing cool down? Most definitely.
The other exercise video I tried that was a “never-again-you-couldn’t-pay-me-to-do-this-shit” was the 8 Moves workout. From the title I gathered that there would be eight key moves, but I thought there would be at least some sort of variation for each move. Nope! It was eight moves on repeat for 40 minutes! And half of these moves are animal moves, as in, walk like a bear, crab walk, slither like an alligator, and waddle like a duck. You are supposed to do these animal imitations for minute long increments, but my living room is about eleven square inches, so I’m just crab walking in teeny tiny circles around the ottoman. So not only do I look and feel like a jackass, but I’m also bored out of my skull. Sweaty and bored, but bored nonetheless. I ended up stopping it half way through and went for a jog instead. Lesson learned.
So after singing and bear walking my way through the week, I’m down almost five pounds and feeling pretty good. The end of this week is going to bring forth another challenge I haven’t faced yet: going on vacation. My awesome boyfriend is taking me to San Diego for a long weekend, and I know myself all too well. All I will want to do is plop my ass down on the beach with a good book and stuff my face full of daiquiris all weekend. So I’m going to have to find some sort of compromise and maybe sneak a workout or two in between beach reading and daiquiris. Should be an interesting week…stay tuned!
Monday, January 10, 2011
Week 1...BOOYAH!
Watch out world, because I am three pounds lighter! True, it’s not the 50 pound jumpstart I was hoping for, but I’ll settle for a few pounds. Part of me was hoping that if I just cut out Christmas baking, the pounds would just kind of disappear on their own, and I’d just magically be cured and fit into a size six. Turns out, it doesn’t quite work that way. Maybe that’s why I’ve given up so quickly in the past - the results weren’t instantaneous and I’d become frustrated. Well, my plan is to stick to the tortoise and the hare philosophy this time – slow and steady wins the race, so the hare can go piss off while I revel in my three pound loss.
So this week has, no joke, been one of the longest weeks of my life. To start with, I was a substitute teacher for an elementary PE class all week. If that doesn’t make the hours stand still, nothing will. Hour after hour of tying kids’ shoes, playing referee to screaming first graders, and telling students, “I know he threw a ball at you. He’s supposed to – it’s dodge ball.” On top of that, I was going through massive withdrawals chocolate, hydrogenated oil, and artery-clogging-goodness. I’m pretty sure my body went into shock the first day that it wasn’t being stuffed full every 20 minutes. I was afraid it would go into starvation mode and cling to every ounce of fat for fear of never being fed again. Sticking to my allotted weight watchers points this week, especially the first couple of days, was damn near impossible. I felt hungry ALL. THE. TIME. I woke up famished in the middle of the night on Monday and consumed an entire can of garbanzo beans. Why garbanzo beans? A) Because I love them and B) I thought it would be lower in points value. Just so you know; an entire can is seven points – which is more than that ice cream sandwich I’d been eyeballing. I didn’t do the research until the next morning and was immediately wishing I’d had the ice cream instead.
I guess the thing I like about this whole Weight Watchers plan is that it doesn’t eliminate any certain foods from your diet. I tried South Beach one time and lasted 3days; and as it turns out, I’m a raving bitch when I don’t have any carbs. This week I had a Belgian waffle for breakfast one morning, and I went out to dinner and had lasagna another night. I just made better, healthier choices throughout the rest of the day. Hmmmmm, this seems like it should be common sense. How have I not grasped this concept before? Probably because I tend to be kind of an all or nothing kind of gal – if I “cheat” or eat something I shouldn’t, I usually just say fuck all and consume everything in sight, and then I promise myself I’ll start fresh the next day. I think that’s how I wound up being chunky in the first place… There’s the little light bulb going off! Well, no more. If I consume an entire pint of ice cream, that doesn’t mean I should raid the rest of the cupboard and gorge on anything I can get my greedy little hands on. So here’s to my newfound grasp of balance! May it stick with me for more than just a week.
As for the exercise portion of this program, I stuck to my goal of working out four times this week. And let me tell you, I’ve lost A LOT of stamina. I was winded about 45 seconds into my first workout and was just about ready to call it quits, but thankfully shame kept me going. A man on the stationary bike next to me, who looked older than God, was plugging along at a much higher resistance level and a much faster pace. Well, shit. I thought to myself, if he can do it, I can chug along for twenty more minutes. Grow some lady balls, Corak! And I did. And for good measure this week, I also threw in some Pilates, uphill walks on a treadmill, and a workout from Exercise on Demand TV. This week, my goal is still to do four workouts, but maybe add a couple of minutes onto each one, or step up the resistance level a notch or two, and maybe try something new this week.
So, despite my challenges and lost stamina, overall I’m feeling pretty good this week. I know what you might be thinking – congratulations, you accomplished one week of eating healthier and exercise; do you want a fucking medal? Well, maybe I do want one. For me, getting started is the hard part. Sticking with it isn’t going to be a piece of cake, either, but I’m glad I had a positive experience to jumpstart my quest. Let’s just hope I’ll have something positive to write next week too, and not a pity party featuring yours truly. Until next week!
So this week has, no joke, been one of the longest weeks of my life. To start with, I was a substitute teacher for an elementary PE class all week. If that doesn’t make the hours stand still, nothing will. Hour after hour of tying kids’ shoes, playing referee to screaming first graders, and telling students, “I know he threw a ball at you. He’s supposed to – it’s dodge ball.” On top of that, I was going through massive withdrawals chocolate, hydrogenated oil, and artery-clogging-goodness. I’m pretty sure my body went into shock the first day that it wasn’t being stuffed full every 20 minutes. I was afraid it would go into starvation mode and cling to every ounce of fat for fear of never being fed again. Sticking to my allotted weight watchers points this week, especially the first couple of days, was damn near impossible. I felt hungry ALL. THE. TIME. I woke up famished in the middle of the night on Monday and consumed an entire can of garbanzo beans. Why garbanzo beans? A) Because I love them and B) I thought it would be lower in points value. Just so you know; an entire can is seven points – which is more than that ice cream sandwich I’d been eyeballing. I didn’t do the research until the next morning and was immediately wishing I’d had the ice cream instead.
I guess the thing I like about this whole Weight Watchers plan is that it doesn’t eliminate any certain foods from your diet. I tried South Beach one time and lasted 3days; and as it turns out, I’m a raving bitch when I don’t have any carbs. This week I had a Belgian waffle for breakfast one morning, and I went out to dinner and had lasagna another night. I just made better, healthier choices throughout the rest of the day. Hmmmmm, this seems like it should be common sense. How have I not grasped this concept before? Probably because I tend to be kind of an all or nothing kind of gal – if I “cheat” or eat something I shouldn’t, I usually just say fuck all and consume everything in sight, and then I promise myself I’ll start fresh the next day. I think that’s how I wound up being chunky in the first place… There’s the little light bulb going off! Well, no more. If I consume an entire pint of ice cream, that doesn’t mean I should raid the rest of the cupboard and gorge on anything I can get my greedy little hands on. So here’s to my newfound grasp of balance! May it stick with me for more than just a week.
As for the exercise portion of this program, I stuck to my goal of working out four times this week. And let me tell you, I’ve lost A LOT of stamina. I was winded about 45 seconds into my first workout and was just about ready to call it quits, but thankfully shame kept me going. A man on the stationary bike next to me, who looked older than God, was plugging along at a much higher resistance level and a much faster pace. Well, shit. I thought to myself, if he can do it, I can chug along for twenty more minutes. Grow some lady balls, Corak! And I did. And for good measure this week, I also threw in some Pilates, uphill walks on a treadmill, and a workout from Exercise on Demand TV. This week, my goal is still to do four workouts, but maybe add a couple of minutes onto each one, or step up the resistance level a notch or two, and maybe try something new this week.
So, despite my challenges and lost stamina, overall I’m feeling pretty good this week. I know what you might be thinking – congratulations, you accomplished one week of eating healthier and exercise; do you want a fucking medal? Well, maybe I do want one. For me, getting started is the hard part. Sticking with it isn’t going to be a piece of cake, either, but I’m glad I had a positive experience to jumpstart my quest. Let’s just hope I’ll have something positive to write next week too, and not a pity party featuring yours truly. Until next week!
Monday, January 3, 2011
The What and Why of my Bizarre Quest
It’s October 25th- almost a week to go until Halloween. You know what that means; it's time to spend money that I don’t have on a costume so I can attend some parties and avoid getting crap for being a party pooper. Don’t get me wrong, I like Halloween. I’m a fan of carving pumpkins and handing out candy to kids in adorably age appropriate costumes, but personally, I hate wearing them. I tried wearing jeans and a sweatshirt one year and just going as a college student, but I didn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night. So my game plan this time is to hit up the Halloween costume shop, be in and out in 15 minutes, and spend less than $20. Ha! Fat chance as it turns out.
Once I enter the costume shop and get past the creepy goblins with eyeballs popping out, I look around, and I’m instantly reminded why I hate shopping for Halloween costumes. Outside of the small section for kids’ costumes, the aisles are lined with costumes that are designed for skanks and whores. As far as the eye can see, there are costumes for slutty pirates, slutty fairies, slutty butterflies, slutty geishas, slutty bananas, and slutty teenage mutant ninja turtles. I didn’t even think bananas could be slutty, but the Halloween industry has proven me wrong. Now I want to clear one thing up before I go any further. I am not a prude and I am not offended in the slightest by revealing Halloween costumes. I understand perfectly that no judgment should be passed on Halloween; this is the one night of the year everyone gets a free pass to dress like a hooker. Hell, if you want to dress like a skanky banana every day of the year, I say go get your fruit salad on and more power to you. My only beef with slutty Halloween costumes is that I could probably not fit one past my knees before it burst at the seams. Nothing makes you feel chunky like being in a Halloween shop and realizing the only costume that fits you is the oversized Oscar the Grouch in his trash can. Side note: I looked adorable. I’m not blaming this self loathing on the Halloween shop; I’m taking full responsibility for my squashy stomach and the junk in my trunk. (Well, I partially blame Outback Steakhouse and their irresistible prime rib. Oh Outback, I wish I could quit you). The fact of the matter is, it’s no one’s fault but my own, but it took walking into that costume shop to make me say, “Enough is enough!” I decided that I could either wear my Oscar the Grouch costume and stare enviously at the girls dressed in slutty, inappropriate costumes, OR, I could get my ass in gear and actually be one of the skanky girls! And thus the idea for this blog was born.
My original intention was to begin writing this blog the day after Halloween, but as it turns out, trying to start a new diet and exercise regime with the holidays looming probably wasn’t my best idea. I got back to the gym a bit, but quickly undid any good work with my aunt’s homemade rocky road and my mom’s super-amazing-triple- chocolate-chip-cookies. I admire people that can maintain willpower during the Christmas season – you are far stronger than I. So as it is New Years and the season of resolutions, and all the chocolate has been cleared out of the house (largely because I ate it all), I am excited to start my quest anew. Instead of being all talk and no action, I set out some reasonable parameters and goals to assist me in my journey. I have signed up for Weight Watchers online and am now recording what I eat and keeping track of my points, and have stocked the fridge and cupboards with nutritious snacks and meals. My goal is also to hit the gym four times a week. I shouldn’t have a ton of excuses because it’s right down the street (although believe me, I’ve spent many an hour creating creative excuses). And I’m not coming from a completely inactive background; I was a swimmer in high school, and an avid drunk sprinter in college. A few months ago when I lived in China, I was working out diligently 5 or 6 times a week with a group of foreign teachers. In fact, they’d probably be shocked and appalled if they knew how quickly I let my exercise habit slide when I got back to the good ol’ USA.
Now, you may have noticed that there’s a separate but equally important part in the title of my blog, and that’s the half marathon part. I realized that just wanting to fit into something slinky might be just a tad bit vain, and I should probably also be focused on another, less materialistic goal. Not that bearing everything but my nipples to the world isn’t a great goal, but you know, I could stand to add another substantial achievement as well. So as it turns out, I have a list of 30 things I want to do before I’m 30. I made the list a few years ago, and a scant few things have been crossed off, and I’m coming scarily close to reaching my deadline. Well, I have 3 years left, but that’s not much time to travel around the world, get another degree, and kiss Gerard Butler on the mouth. One of the items on my list is to complete a half marathon, even if it’s just walking. BAM! Enter goal #2 for the year, and the perfect complimenting goal for my Halloween conquest. As it turns out, there is a half marathon in Vegas every December on the strip, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to be there wearing something slutty. Well, not slutty, but practical and comfortable. So now I have my sights set on completing 13 miles while cruising by the Bellagio and the Venetian, and I have almost a year to get there. That’s where you come in.
Anyone who knows me knows that I make to do lists almost daily and spend a good 45 minutes color coding them by priority and difficulty level. And anyone who knows me well knows that after the first item or two, I usually get side tracked or distracted by something shiny, and I completely abandon my game plan for the day. But I want things to be different this time. This is a goal that I’m eager to work toward, and I’m going to be pretty darn peeved with myself if I neglect it and have to give up on my catchy gimmick. So, in order to stay true to my goal and also exercise my writing muscles, I’m going to be writing weekly blog entries about my quest. Now, don’t think for a second this will just be a record of what I’ve eaten and my activity level for the week with some motivational commentary. Barfity barf barf. I personally have read way too many of those in Shape Magazine (usually with a Butterfinger in hand while I’m reading it), and they do nothing but make me want to force feed someone lard. So this blog will be something a little different, and you can probably expect some of my musings and rants as well. I apologize in advance for getting side tracked. And if you’ve ever read my blog on China or met me in person, you know I swear like a mother fucker. I apologize for that as well. I hope you enjoy, and even if you don’t and you never read this blog again, I hope to see you out on Halloween. I’ll be the one wearing next to nothing. Cheers and happy New Year!
Once I enter the costume shop and get past the creepy goblins with eyeballs popping out, I look around, and I’m instantly reminded why I hate shopping for Halloween costumes. Outside of the small section for kids’ costumes, the aisles are lined with costumes that are designed for skanks and whores. As far as the eye can see, there are costumes for slutty pirates, slutty fairies, slutty butterflies, slutty geishas, slutty bananas, and slutty teenage mutant ninja turtles. I didn’t even think bananas could be slutty, but the Halloween industry has proven me wrong. Now I want to clear one thing up before I go any further. I am not a prude and I am not offended in the slightest by revealing Halloween costumes. I understand perfectly that no judgment should be passed on Halloween; this is the one night of the year everyone gets a free pass to dress like a hooker. Hell, if you want to dress like a skanky banana every day of the year, I say go get your fruit salad on and more power to you. My only beef with slutty Halloween costumes is that I could probably not fit one past my knees before it burst at the seams. Nothing makes you feel chunky like being in a Halloween shop and realizing the only costume that fits you is the oversized Oscar the Grouch in his trash can. Side note: I looked adorable. I’m not blaming this self loathing on the Halloween shop; I’m taking full responsibility for my squashy stomach and the junk in my trunk. (Well, I partially blame Outback Steakhouse and their irresistible prime rib. Oh Outback, I wish I could quit you). The fact of the matter is, it’s no one’s fault but my own, but it took walking into that costume shop to make me say, “Enough is enough!” I decided that I could either wear my Oscar the Grouch costume and stare enviously at the girls dressed in slutty, inappropriate costumes, OR, I could get my ass in gear and actually be one of the skanky girls! And thus the idea for this blog was born.
My original intention was to begin writing this blog the day after Halloween, but as it turns out, trying to start a new diet and exercise regime with the holidays looming probably wasn’t my best idea. I got back to the gym a bit, but quickly undid any good work with my aunt’s homemade rocky road and my mom’s super-amazing-triple- chocolate-chip-cookies. I admire people that can maintain willpower during the Christmas season – you are far stronger than I. So as it is New Years and the season of resolutions, and all the chocolate has been cleared out of the house (largely because I ate it all), I am excited to start my quest anew. Instead of being all talk and no action, I set out some reasonable parameters and goals to assist me in my journey. I have signed up for Weight Watchers online and am now recording what I eat and keeping track of my points, and have stocked the fridge and cupboards with nutritious snacks and meals. My goal is also to hit the gym four times a week. I shouldn’t have a ton of excuses because it’s right down the street (although believe me, I’ve spent many an hour creating creative excuses). And I’m not coming from a completely inactive background; I was a swimmer in high school, and an avid drunk sprinter in college. A few months ago when I lived in China, I was working out diligently 5 or 6 times a week with a group of foreign teachers. In fact, they’d probably be shocked and appalled if they knew how quickly I let my exercise habit slide when I got back to the good ol’ USA.
Now, you may have noticed that there’s a separate but equally important part in the title of my blog, and that’s the half marathon part. I realized that just wanting to fit into something slinky might be just a tad bit vain, and I should probably also be focused on another, less materialistic goal. Not that bearing everything but my nipples to the world isn’t a great goal, but you know, I could stand to add another substantial achievement as well. So as it turns out, I have a list of 30 things I want to do before I’m 30. I made the list a few years ago, and a scant few things have been crossed off, and I’m coming scarily close to reaching my deadline. Well, I have 3 years left, but that’s not much time to travel around the world, get another degree, and kiss Gerard Butler on the mouth. One of the items on my list is to complete a half marathon, even if it’s just walking. BAM! Enter goal #2 for the year, and the perfect complimenting goal for my Halloween conquest. As it turns out, there is a half marathon in Vegas every December on the strip, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to be there wearing something slutty. Well, not slutty, but practical and comfortable. So now I have my sights set on completing 13 miles while cruising by the Bellagio and the Venetian, and I have almost a year to get there. That’s where you come in.
Anyone who knows me knows that I make to do lists almost daily and spend a good 45 minutes color coding them by priority and difficulty level. And anyone who knows me well knows that after the first item or two, I usually get side tracked or distracted by something shiny, and I completely abandon my game plan for the day. But I want things to be different this time. This is a goal that I’m eager to work toward, and I’m going to be pretty darn peeved with myself if I neglect it and have to give up on my catchy gimmick. So, in order to stay true to my goal and also exercise my writing muscles, I’m going to be writing weekly blog entries about my quest. Now, don’t think for a second this will just be a record of what I’ve eaten and my activity level for the week with some motivational commentary. Barfity barf barf. I personally have read way too many of those in Shape Magazine (usually with a Butterfinger in hand while I’m reading it), and they do nothing but make me want to force feed someone lard. So this blog will be something a little different, and you can probably expect some of my musings and rants as well. I apologize in advance for getting side tracked. And if you’ve ever read my blog on China or met me in person, you know I swear like a mother fucker. I apologize for that as well. I hope you enjoy, and even if you don’t and you never read this blog again, I hope to see you out on Halloween. I’ll be the one wearing next to nothing. Cheers and happy New Year!
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