Family ties

I had been looking forward to Thanksgiving because it involves family time, pie, and a break from my sometimes hectic job. The break from work was great, the pie was glorious, and 99 percent of the family time was lovely.

The other one percent left me saying, "I will CUT that bitch!" My family Thanksgiving was not without adventure. This is a long, rambling tirade...so be warned.

Back in the day my family used to celebrate Thanksgiving with my father's side of the familyb and it involved renting an entire church in order to have enough room for everyone. I didn't realize till much later in life that it isn't typical to have over 50 first cousins. Later my parents moved us across the state and currently our Thanksgiving typically involves our immediate family (minus my older sister in England) along with my fake uncle (a friend of my father's from work who we've adopted) and my mother's older sister along with her family--my cousin and her boyfriend, their two kids, and my aunt's new husband. Sometimes there is a random person mixed in as well because my mom likes to take in strays, but this year it was limited to our regular crew.

My younger sister and I were seated at the table playing a card game when everyone arrived partly because my stupid cold led to me being banished from the kitchen. She was winning, and I was pretending I was winning. Here is what went down:

Uncle: *Something about how much weight I've lost, blah blah blah, making me feel really uncomfortable by yelling this out in front of everyone*
Aunt: *comes into the room*
Uncle: Blah blah blah about me losing weight, then adds that my sister looks great too (cause she does) and says, "They're both losing weight!"
Aunt: *looks at both of us* Well, Leslie is.
Me: *shocked into silence and considering cutting people*

I don't even know what to say about this, really. My aunt went on to discuss my NINE-YEAR-OLD cousin's weight with her. I should mention that my aunt is essentially a crazy biotch. Also, she's far more overweight than anyone in my family has ever been. Recently she found herself without a home and ended up living with my parents for several months wherein she made my mom feel like crap about herself all the time and drove both my parents insane. My mother is still a little nutty because of it and I'm always yelling at her to not let my aunt's insanity affect her so much. Also, I enjoy her husband's company far more than I've ever enjoyed hers and I only met the guy a few months ago. But come on, is it really that difficult to deliver a compliment without it being completely backhanded and insulting someone else? For my aunt, yes. ..because she sucks at life.

I should also mention that my younger sister is one of my favorite people ever. I'm very close to both of my sisters and also incredibly protective of both of them. And of course, this blow from my aunt had to come at a time when my sister had a crappy week where stupid people made some very mean comments about her and so her self-esteem was already suffering. The thing is, it shouldn't be suffering at all! She's beautiful, and sweet, and funny, and smart, and she is not fat. She has lost weight recently, also, and regardless she is perfectly healthy and takes care of herself. Also, she's one of those super nice people who spends her spare time volunteering at a food bank and such. I spend my spare time napping and drinking beer. To sum it up, my sister is awesome.

Not only did my aunt deliver a lovely dose of bitch to my sister promptly upon her arrival, but she did not say anything else to her or about her the entire afternoon. My sister was left in tears, as any sane person would be. Sidenote: my aunt and cousin also criticized a bunch of the food that my mom had spent days preparing and so my mother wasn't in the best of mindsets either. Why do families suck so much sometimes? As a result of all of this, next year we have already made alternate plans that don't involve extended family.

The thing is, I should have said something. Usually I don't realize that I should be mad about something until way later, but in this case I was instantly angry. But I didn't say a word; instead I changed the subject and privately told my sister that my aunt is a crack ho who deserves to be hit by a car. Also, later I poured her many drinks and cheered her up. But since then I have been kicking myself for not saying something. At the time I wasn't sure if it would make my sister uncomfortable or upset my mom by creating conflict, but my aunt doesn't deserve to get away with crap like that. Happy f-ing Thanksgiving to us--now I feel guilty for having lost weight and creating the situation in the first place, my sister feels horrible, and my aunt probably didn't even think twice about it. She is a ridiculous bitch and I strongly dislike her, but sadly I still love her at least a little because she is family and I am supposed to.

I hope my sister realizes how awesome she is and that she shouldn't pay any attention to my aunt. I hope I realize that I shouldn't let anyone make me feel guilty for having accomplished something, and that I should stick up for myself and others when something like this happens. And I hope my mother realizes that even though her sister is a crazy ho it doesn't mean that she is anything like her.

And most of all, I hope my sisters both know that the thing I am most thankful for this Thanksgiving is that I have them, and that I am especially glad that I will never have reason to threaten to cut them for being bitches. Unlike my mother, I am so fortunate to have sisters that I can count on for anything and that I consider my best friends.

Also, if you think I am too cool to make the following photo my Christmas card photo, you would be wrong... I have no shame. Except how do I get rid of my dog's creepy zombie eyes if the red eye remover doesn't work?

Close enough!

I managed 76 pushups and then did the final 24 as girl pushups. I say that's close enough for now! It's 76 more pushups than I was able to do before. I think I'll do level 2 now and see if that gets me all the way to 100.

Also, I'm going to start doing the 30 Day Shred in December just for kicks. I need something new to keep me entertained.

The best part of waking up...

...is seeing a "friggin' Scottish dude throwing a ball! How is that not awesome?"

That was my sister's response when she showed her husband her kickass box (pictured above) of oatmeal and his response was, "So?" I agree with her--how is this not awesome?

My older sister (I have two, I'm the middle, in case you didn't know) lives in England and therefore often informs me about interesting English food products like ox flavored potato chips (which you can be certain I will tell you more about as she is mailing me some), and today she sent me a photo of her oatmeal box because we have interesting conversations like that.

I'd say this is a step above the typical Quaker fellow. My oatmeal doesn't even have the Quaker guy, it just has a picture of oatmeal, cause I am cheap and buy generic brands.

I just felt like sharing. How would you like to wake up to that?

Challenges

My workplace is exceptionally health-friendly. There’s a local program that often hosts events and/or challenges for employees like an annual “Biggest Loser” competition and currently a “November Fitness Challenge.” The point of the fitness challenge is to rack up as many minutes of exercise as you can, and then the team with the highest average minutes wins. My coworker and I formed a team, not so much to compete to win, but just to participate and have something to guilt us (motivate us?) into exercising. I’m rocking and have almost my whole minute log filled in, so I’m going to have to expand onto a sheet of paper to log my additional minutes. I feel very hardcore.

This year they have a new challenge over the holiday season—it involves maintaining instead of gaining. Apparently the average person gains 5-10 holiday pounds and often does not lose them. I’d rather avoid that, so the coworker and I signed up today.

From now until the beginning of January we have to go get weighed in each Monday, and they give us helpful information and pats on the back, etc, etc. This could either end well (and give me a reason not to eat an abnormal amount of pie) or it could end badly (and make me feel like crap for eating an abnormal amount of pie). We’ll see if I’m able to maintain (or even lose… preferably that pesky two pounds that’s keeping me from having lost 75 pounds total) over the holiday season, or if the baked goods come back to haunt me. Either way it will be fun to participate!

In other news, I am still sniffly and not feeling well. So if this post seems a little incoherent it would be due to the cold medicine I just took. Tonight is my 100 Pushups Challenge final test wherein I see if I am, in fact, capable of doing 100 pushups consecutively. It’s entirely possible that I’ll have to stop to blow my nose in the middle.

Ugh.

I am sick. I have developed a lovely cold just in time for the upcoming holiday weekend, and of course I have to cram five days of work into three days all while I feel like crap.

I'm especially annoyed about this because it is really pretty out today and I was going to go for an 8-mile run. And I was looking forward to it. But I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like death, and so it's probably a better idea to lie in bed with kleenex and orange juice, right?

As a result, I may not be blogging much for the next few days. I will be eating lots of soup and taking vitamins, however.

I want to be a part of it... New York, New York!

Guess where I'm going next year on vacation? You'll never guess! Okay, you got it. New York City!

I am beyond excited for this trip that won't be occurring until at least March. Three friends and I will be flying over for a week or so and also taking a side trip over to Boston. I don't even know what to say. I've dreamed of visiting these places for as long as I can remember, and now I'm finally going! I've already been checking out travel books from the library and surfing the internet in order to compile a list of possible activities, including the following:

• Eating a bagel and drinking coffee in front of Tiffany's.
  
• Playing hide and seek in Central Park. Well, maybe not, but I want to go!
  
• Falling in love with a dreamy British boy at the top of the Empire State Building.
  
• Pursuing truthiness and the glorious man who is Stephen Colbert.
  
• Climbing the dinosaurs at the American Museum of Natural History.
  
• Buying a Dwight Schrute bobblehead at the NBC Experience Store.
  
• Doing the string dance with Conan O'Brien.
  
• Drinking tea with Eloise at The Plaza!
  
• Braiding Tina Fey's hair and making her my BFF.
  

Oh boy! I've got quite a full schedule already. I hope my travel partners want to do some of these things, too, but I don't think they'll have a problem with a couple of them. Who doesn't want to fall in love with a dreamy British boy, seriously?

And do you know what else I want to do while in New York? Be my goal weight and wear cute dresses like this one:

So there it is. My motivation and the reason I posted my weight loss countdown on the lefthand side of this page. My silly and girlie weight loss motivation is being cute in New York, because how often do I go there?

I'll make a brand new start of it in old New York.

Like a party in a mug...

You should all go try this one too. It's not as good as the sugar cookie tea (but really there is little in life compares to the awesomeness that is sugar cookie tea). If you like gingerbread, you will like this tea. And I like gingerbread. I'm becoming such a tea junkie lately.

That's right, I am sitting at home on a Friday night drinking tea and snuggling with my dog in front of the television. I'll try not to be quite so awesome in the future.

Poverty does not improve my social life, that's for sure. But who needs a social life when things like sugar cookie and gingerbread tea exist?!?!?!

Yes, yes I do realize I need to get out more.

Hot damn!

Yesterday evening I completed day two of week six of the Hundred Pushups Program. I noticed during week five that days two and three suddenly featured nine sets of pushups, and I found that to be very unfriendly. Last night after I finished all the sets and thought my arms might very well fall off, I decided to add up the total number I had done over the course of nine sets.

150. Crap, that’s a lot.

In between sets I’m supposed to rest for a little under a minute, and I get bored easily, so I have taken to doing squats or lunges in quick sets so as to work my legs as well. I added those up too—65 squats (including those really horrible jumping squats… I hate those) and 45 lunges. I am so hardcore. I also ran four miles and did some half-hearted bicycle crunches, in case you were curious.

Allegedly by Monday I will be able to do 100 pushups in succession. We’ll see.

Things people say

People will talk… and sometimes the things that they say kind of suck.

Oddly enough I’m noticing that one of the hardest things about losing 70+ pounds is dealing with what people say to me. Exercise and healthy eating have become a way of life, and I enjoy both of them, so that aspect is no longer difficult. But things people say? Sometimes that’s very tricky.

There are the people in my work environment who make comments that are phrased so oddly that I can’t decide if they are complimenting me or not. Or the people who feel it is appropriate to tell me what they think I should weigh. I’ve been asked if I developed an eating disorder. I’ve been told not to lose any more weight or I would be too skinny. I’ve been told how much better I am now compared to my former self. People I haven’t seen in awhile have stared me in a way that makes me uncomfortable. I’ve heard friends describe their own weight gain with adjectives that always leave me wondering what they thought of me 70 pounds ago.

It’s tricky.

Of course, I’ve also heard compliments. Just yesterday I received the best compliment yet: a woman who works in an office near mine came up to me (in a public meeting) and said quietly, “I didn’t want to just yell this out in front of everyone, but I can tell you’ve lost a lot of weight and I just wanted to say that I think you’re doing a great job and you look awesome. I know encouragement can really help.” Talk about a compliment that I appreciated. It is nice to hear sometimes that people notice my weight loss, and even better when they mention it to me privately without making a huge deal. I’ve been in situations where someone yelled it out in front of a crowd of people, and it was exceptionally awkward for me.

The problem is that deep down inside there will always be a little part of me that wonders what all of these people will think (or say) if I gain the weight back. I certainly don’t plan to gain the weight back, but I also never planned to be morbidly obese in my early 20s either. Sometimes life doesn’t go as planned. All of a sudden my body is fair game for a topic of discussion, and all I did was change how it looks.

These things that people say stick with me. The years and years of insults are still fresh in my mind, and the comments from friends who don’t realize what they are saying still sting. People refer to other overweight people in a derogatory way while speaking to me and I still feel like they are slapping me in the face. I used to be fatter than that person, does that mean they said those things about me? Or do people love me more now that I’m not as fat? It’s sad that I would even have to think something like that. I don’t want to let people’s comments affect me so much. It’s my body, and if you ask me I should be able to do what I want with it.

So sometimes people will say things. I just have to learn not to listen.

Sometimes I am an airhead.

We are officially done with the 30-Minute Breast Cancer Awareness Fitness Challenge, and as I was doing my daily perusing of the blogosphere I came across a post on Elastic Waist discussing the challenge.

I found this tidbit particularly interesting:

Now, scientific studies suggest that 30 minutes of fitness five times a week (or 30 days during the challenge time frame) will reduce the risk of breast cancer by 20 percent (and if you want to know about other ways to improve your odds, you might want to check out this Women's Cancer Handbook), but we set the stretch goal to six days a week, or 35 days total.

Did anyone else miss the part where it was 30 minutes per day, six days per week? I certainly did. I did all 42 days!

I found it rather hilarious. I’m not too worried about it, cause some of that was some seriously easy activity (like relaxing yoga), and I probably would have done all 42 days even if I did realize that. Once I take a day off it turns into seven, usually, so I find it’s easier to exactly do a rest day, but instead do a day here and there where I do 30 super-easy minutes on the elliptical at a very slow pace. Also, a lot of that was during the half-marathon craziness and it helped to do a little something even on easy days in order to keep my muscles moving. Still… I should read things more closely!

Also, I got a flu shot. I’ve never gotten one before but I was at a health fair for work (my job is random) and this nice lady wanted to inject things into my body, so I let her. Who would argue with that? So if I get the flu this year I am going to be pissed. But at least my odds of getting breast cancer are lower!

Ohmygod, Ohmygod, you guys.

I have just had a life-changing experience involving Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride herbal tea. I say life-changing experience because my life will never be the same again now that my mouth has been filled with such delicious herbal tea goodness.

I'm on this herbal tea kick lately and tend to drink a cup in the evenings--it's warm, yummy, and is a good distraction from baked goods. Today I went to the grocery store because I needed tea (and bananas) and discovered the Celestial Seasonings holiday teas are out... and the sugar cookie variety piqued my curiosity.

Seriously. Go drink it. You'll thank me.

I tried to get a photo of me, the tea (I put a splash of milk in it), and my senile 15-year-old dog all at once and ended up with what you see below. The dog lacks concentration, as you will note. Please admire me in all my no-makeup glory... If I look tired it is because I had to work till 8 p.m. tonight. But now I'm home with delicious tea and a snuggly blanket on the couch! A gold star for you if you know what Broadway musical the title of this post is from.

No, I will not shut my pie hole.

Ah, the holidays… a time of love, hugs, snow angels and trying to keep my mother from feeding me every five minutes.

This could be a problem.

In addition to being at my parent’s house for Thanksgiving and Christmas, I recently decided to cash in some vacation time and spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve at my parent’s house in order to enjoy things like free food, heat and laundry. “I have to take advantage of the perks of being your daughter before I feel like I’m too old to take advantage of you,” is how I believe I phrased it when telling my mother I’d be hanging around. Plus, I have mucho vacation time saved up and my parents have the world’s most comfortable recliner that sounded like the perfect place to vacation. It’s my own cheap alternative to rich people vacation destinations like Hawaii or Europe. I bet those vacations don’t come with hugs and recliners!

The problem is this: my mother likes to bake. She also likes to feed me. Also, there are some deep-seated issues when it comes to dealing with my mother and body image/weight/life, but those are not something I feel like getting into. What I do feel like getting into is a pumpkin pie. My mother is really, really good at this whole baking and feeding me thing. How is a girl supposed to survive a post-Christmas week surrounded by baked goods?

Don’t get me wrong; there will be some ingestion of delicious homemade goodness. Who deprives themselves during the holidays? Stupid people. There will be pie—oh, glorious pie. But this year I hope to balance my unhealthy eating with plenty of healthiness. Also, there will also be lovely time spent running on snow-covered streets during daylight hours because I won’t have to be at work and can enjoy things like running in the cold when it is light outside. I’m hoping that by spending the week doing two things that I love (eating pie and running) it will balance out well.

I’m pretty sure I can avoid going on “vacation” and gaining 20 pounds as long as I keep in mind that I really would rather not gain 20 pounds in a week. Actually, I don’t think that is possible… is it? As of right now, I’m heading into Thanksgiving next week 73 pounds lighter (darn you, elusive 2 more pounds needed in order to hit 75). I’d like to keep it that way. Also, I would like to eat lots of pie.

Late Bloomers

I spent part of yesterday cleaning out the shed and going through boxes of stuff that used to be stored at my parent's house. As a result, I found a lot of old photos of myself.

Wow.

I didn't discover things like tweezers or personal grooming until a very late age. Adolescence was not kind to me. I called my younger sister to tell her that I found photos that definitely show how we each got much better looking with age and she pointed out that she had to wait for me to discover things like flat irons so I could teach her. How did we miss out on things like that?

It's also weird to see how my weight fluctuated throughout the years. I went from 180 to 220 and bounced around in that range from age 14 until now. That, coupled with the lack of a hair brush in my life, clearly demonstrates that I am a late bloomer. Does that mean I have a good reason for being socially awkward?

Today I randomly started watching a show called "The Pickup Artist" and it reminds me that there are other late bloomers out there. I have caught this show a few times before and each time I think to myself, "Why don't they have a show like this for women?"

Here is a preview of the show that I took from the Vh1 website. Kindly be amused:

• VH1 TV Shows
• Music Videos
• Celebrity Photos
• News & Gossip

Dear Leslie-

The next time you go to the gym, please follow the adorable Kristen Chenoweth's lead, call me up, and allow me to prompt you into shouting random outbursts at your fellow fitness junkies. Perhaps you will scare away the possesive treadmill users and old men who like to stare at your lovely lady lumps. Check it out!

Things only a fat girl understands

I kept trying to think of something interesting to write about today, all the while whining to a friend about how I’m having a “fat day,” when I realized that a fat day is a pretty interesting topic in itself. I have always been overweight and firmly believe that there are things in life that naturally thin people just don’t understand. You know how Kate Winslet has been quoted as saying something like, “Once a fat kid, always a fat kid” or whatever her actual quote is? I love her. We should be best friends. My inner fat kid totally still lives on—and she is often a stupid whore.

For the record, I know I am only slightly overweight. I know I can’t gain 10 pounds overnight (nor did I, but I feel like I did). But you know the days that you wake up and don’t feel like yourself? That’s today for me. I’m bloated, and cranky, and after a quick glance at my calendar I have also realized this is all due to biology and so I’m totally allowed to have a fat day today. Suck on that, hormones!

As a result of thinking about how weird it is that I label a few days each month as my “fat days,” I have compiled a list of things that I’m pretty sure only fat girls really understand:

1. Fat days: a day in which you feel fatter even while still logically understanding (sometimes) that you are the same size as yesterday. Often due to hormones or the quality/quantity of food ingested prior to the fat day, these fat days are silly and you should all just ignore them.

2. Chub rub: the act of chafing that occurs due to bare thighs rubbing together. Often this leads to abandonment of clothing items like shorts or skirts, but can be easily remedied with baby powder, Vaseline, or hardcore lotion. My sister has just informed me that wearing shorts under skirts helps, and I am rather sad that I didn’t find this out until today. Chub rub is a very unpleasant sensation and makes it even more satisfying to sit with your legs wide open in an unladylike manner while saying, “Ahhhhhh….” Don’t lie, you’ve done it.

3. Girdles: devices of torture designed to constrict areas of the body (frequently the tummy) that were obviously designed by a masochist. Personally, I’m a fan of letting it all hang out.

4. The non-chair sit: how to make it look like you're sitting while actually not putting any weight on the tiny chair someone gave you for fear of turning it into kindling—as described by my sister, who is hilarious. My response: “That’s a skill, right there. And requires some hardcore thigh muscles.” I’ve also employed this technique when someone offers to let you share half of their chair (HA!) or sit on their lap.

5. The locker room change: the act of changing (in rapid succession and often while contorting in strange manners) so as to avoid having anyone see your body while you are completely naked. A frequent method involves putting on one shirt while simultaneously removing the other, and is something I mastered during middle school gym class. This is also an addition from my sister (she’s clever) who pointed out that this can also apply to girls with poor body image and low self-esteem. Also, prudish people who don’t like to be naked in front of others. There’s nothing wrong with nudity, but there’s also nothing wrong with not wanting to parade around naked, people.

6. The fat girl camera angle: always from above, at a downward angle, so as to avoid pesky double chin shots. Photos taken from below, at an upward angle, are to be promptly burned and never thought of again.

7. The non-jiggly wave goodbye: the act of waving while holding your upper arm close to your side so as to avoid “getting the bingo wings going” as my sister just described it.

8. The need for industrial strength sports bras: enough said (addition by the sister: “Skinny girls with big racks can commiserate with that one.”)

So there you have it. Live on, inner fat girl! Just try to be a little nicer to yourself, okay? And no, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.

I hate the gym.

And I think it hates me right back. I have a few questions for those of you who regularly inhabit gyms:

1. Are people always so unfriendly? I mean, I don't expect anyone to tell me their hopes and dreams or anything, but would it kill them to smile and say hi back to me? As I told my sister, "No one at the gym wants to be my friend!"

2. Should the treadmill give me motion sickness? It isn't so much when I'm running on it, but after I get off it makes me dizzy and gives me the horrible nausea that usually accompanies motion sickness. I would like for that to stop, please, because it is making me dislike running. Luckily it goes away after awhile or I'd probably just give up.

3. Do all body builders grunt strangely and proceed to stare at you when you're on the cardio equipment? Cause seriously... that's awkward. And furthermore, why are they acting like they are hardcore body builders when they live in the middle of nowhere? Is there really that little for them to do here?

4. Are people always so possessive about their cardio machine? Today an old man came in and asked me how long I'd be on the elliptical. I replied, "Only 2:37 more!" and he proceeded to stand there... and watch me. It was a very long 2:37.

5. Should the weight equipment be easy to figure out? Cause often I look at it and am lost as to what a machine actually does. It just looks like a big hunk of metal.

6. Do I need to mention the creepy old man from the other day? Please tell me that's not normal. I've been running on the treadmill without the magic yoga pants (gasp) just in case he shows up again. I don't want my booty to be easily visible and defined for him to look at. TMI?

Will I stop hating the gym as time goes on? Cause right now I can't wait for spring to arrive so I can go back to running outside. It's so much more interesting to see cows frolicking in a field rather than a television or a wall when I'm running. Nothing frolics in the gym--not even the grunting body builders.

Stupid Economy.

I had a moment of panic today when I realized that the holiday season is quickly approaching. Mainly because I’m broke and/or haven’t bothered to do any Christmas gift shopping so far this year. Life is so expensive! Still, Christmas is totally my favorite holiday. I like twinkly lights and hot chocolate and hugging people, and it involves all of those things! I plan ahead for gifts for my family but I always forget to think about the other people I like to give things to—my friends, coworkers, grumpy-looking bums on the street corner, etc. Then there’s always the work gift exchange that pops up, or a person who gets you a gift when you didn’t get them one. It’s very tricky, this holiday season, especially when you are trying to pinch pennies.

As a result, one friend and I have declared that we will be the type of friends who give each other cool homemade gifts instead of spending money on each other (cause we’re both broke, and she understands this dilemma). When I think about it, I should employ this technique with several people in my life. I have my family covered and am thanking my lucky stars that I only have two sisters instead of seven, but there are so many people that I like to give things to! It brings me such joy to give people something wrapped up prettily and watch them open it. If I were a millionaire this wouldn’t be a problem at all.

The only question is, what to make? Naturally I decided google would have the answer. I found this lovely list and as a result I am totally going to make completely off-the-wall gifts for a few people. It will probably rock.

A random sidenote: I am thisclose to having lost 75 pounds. It’s taunting me.

Gross.

This would be part of why I am afraid of gyms:

I didn't work today so I ventured to the gym much earlier in the day than usual. As I'm running along on the treadmill I notice that a creepy old man (with a walker, no less) was standing behind me... WATCHING me. He was just standing there staring at my ass! Who does that?

I didn't know what to do. As a result, I just kept running and he eventually left.

Oh, it gets better. Next a woman came in with her teenage son and he took up residence at a table... right behind me. I don't know if he was staring at me or not, but I was already paranoid from the old man. I still kept running though.

Creeeeeeepy. Luckily this isn't a problem when I'm there in the evenings.

I'm still afraid of the weight equipment. How do you figure out how that stuff works? Also, I'm saving the 30 Day Shred for awhile as I wanted to keep going on the 100 Pushup Challenge (only two weeks left). I like to finish what I start.

And now I'm going to relax in the comfort of my own home where no one stares at my ass.

Slacker mode: Disengage!

You can make a lovely hat out of previously-used aluminum foil. Or so said a handy-dandy recycling tip at the top of my Gmail today. I encourage all of you to make a perfectly wearable hat out of tin foil today and wear it to woo a fella'. Go ahead, and tell me your results.

I have been quite the fitness and health-food slacker the last several days. It all began with a horribly pain-ridden knee keeping me from following Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred and catapulted into me eating pizza and Cheetos until I felt ready to explode. I even skipped an entire day of the Breast Cancer Awareness 30 Minutes Challenge, and I felt guilty as heck. So there you go, my sins for the week.

Starting tomorrow I am going to track my food intake for at least a week so that I will be more aware of what I put into my body. I've used this method in the past, and I've found success in the accountability required of me. Also, sigh, I am going to do Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred tonight. I am committing to it right now and pre-scribbling it into the BCA Challenge spreadsheet right now so that I can't skip out.

I did participate in an new exercise for me yesterday, yoga. I discovered Tara Stiles' yoga videos on YouTube and had fun squirming around on my bedroom floor. Here is one routine that I found particularly entertaining... This one's for you, Sarah Palin. Oh, and I attempted a head stand, and I nearly died.



Also, I've been saving this video in my Firefox browser for a week now, and I thought it was time that I shared it with all of you. Richard Simmons is freaking awesome! This makes me want to dig out all of my dusty Sweatin' To The Oldies tapes. And buy some very tiny shorts and a bedazzled tank top.



Since I'm already on a video posting rampage I also want to share this with you, because I find it entertaining as heck. Left for fries, right for democracy! Glasses boy is dreamy, and this is fun, too.



Okay, now to stop blabbering and actually be active.
Here I go.
I'm going.
What are you still doing here?
Okay, seriously, bye.

A snippet from my evening...

Phone call to my sister:

Sister: (whispering) Hello?

Me: (Thinking she's just trying to be creepy cause I always do weird stuff like that when she calls) Hello!

Sister: (whispering) I'm in the library.

Me: (whispering) Okay, I was just calling you back cause I didn't get your text till right now as I was in the longest meeting ever.

Sister: (whispering) You don't have to whisper, you're not in the library.

Me: (still whispering for no apparent reason) Yeah, I just realized that.

Lazy Sunday

So I've been sitting here for awhile watching episodes of the show "True Life" on MTV. Yes, my life is that exciting. I love weekends. Don't worry, this isn't all I've done today--I also cleaned my house and went for a long run (outside!!! yay warm fronts!) as well as walked the dog. And then I sat on the couch and cuddled with the dog and a blanket. I love random marathons of documentary shows.

This show in particular made me think of an episode I saw not long ago called, "True Life: I can't stay thin."

Assuming I'm doing this correctly, you can watch it here:

True Life - MTV Shows

My heart hurts for those two people. Do you think someone who grew up thin and doesn't struggle with weight or body image truly understands that it's a very difficult thing? I often wonder. I hope people who haven't struggled with weight don't watch something like that and judge the two people featured. Sadly, I am sure that some do exactly that. I wish I knew a way to make people understand what it's like. The other day someone at work asked me what made me decide to lose so much weight and I didn't have a clue of what I should say--it's like they thought I decided to be overweight, and that is a stupid thing to believe. Anyway, this show really stuck with me and I thought I would share.

And that's about as interesting as I'm going to get today. At least I can add "wrote a blog post" to my list of things I accomplished." Now I'm going to learn about girls who are compulsive shoppers...

Things to work on:

1. Not letting other people's comments bother me so much.

2. Being even more awesome than I already am.

3. Writing down a list of soup ingredients when I make a batch so I can recreate the magic at a later date.

4. Figuring out the correct form for a squat and/or a lunge.

5. Not deciding that a good alternative to taking the dog for a walk is taking her for a car ride to the grocery store to buy ice cream. Actually, I take that back, that one was totally worth it (and kept the dog happy).

Treadmill woes.

The treadmill is boring. That's right, I said it. BORING!

Is it always boring? Today was the first time I'd ever run on a treadmill for more than the five minutes it took to test out some running shoes. I'm pretty sure I chose the wrong treadmill in the gym because I took one that faced a wall--and it was just a boring, white wall, not even an interesting wall. Anyway, I'm pretty sure staring at a wall made me motion sick so next time I'm going to choose one where I can stare out a window or at the television or something. I was listening to a podcast and thought that would keep me distracted enough but it did not. I ran for 30 minutes and then gave up and did the elliptical for awhile (that's probably good since I was trying to take it easy on the running this week... in fact, I totally cheated on my vow to "take it easy," now didn't I? My legs were itching to run! I can't help it!)

My lack of interesting things to look at led me to create a super fun treadmill game... I started out at a nice, normal speed. Soon, I got bored and decided to see what happened when I went to a higher speed. After awhile that got boring too so I slowed down. Then I wondered what would happen if I went to a MUCH higher speed--and so on and so forth. There was a lot of sprinting involved. Yeah, I'm bad at resting. But at least I amused myself!

The gym owner came over to chat as I finished up and commented that I work out hard. Ha. Is that a compliment? I wasn't sure.

I shall now continue to perpetuate the single girl stereotype by sitting on my couch in my pajamas and watching reruns of "What Not to Wear." My life is so difficult, I tell ya... ;-)

Food blogs

Blogs make it so easy to procrastinate. Seriously. If I find an interesting one I can sit there reading for awhile and lose all track of time—this is dangerous because a lot of times I’ll be taking a break from work and my “break” turns into an hour. Oops.

I found a new one recently that has me all kinds of entertained: Eat, Live, Run. Over time I’ve come to realize that I missed out on learning about things like healthy eating and proper nutrition, and this blog is really informative. Plus, the author inspired me to put peanut butter in my oatmeal, and is that ever a delicious idea!!! I've gotten a lot of really cool food ideas from her. And I recommend the peanut butter in the oatmeal thing to all of you.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading about food and nutrition lately. It’s amazing that I don’t already know what I should be eating. Another thing that’s been helping me are Jillian Michael’s podcasts of her weekly radio show. Shawna introduced me to them and I’ve been listening when I work out lately. Not only does she give her listeners information about exercise, but she also has a lot of good food tips. I’ve found some to be particularly helpful because I have a friend who is trying to deal with being pre-diabetic and has to eat high-protein breakfasts. Did anyone else not know that oatmeal has protein in it? I certainly never knew that. Also, I kind of love Jillian Michaels and think she has fabulous hair. I would like to be best friends with her and her hair dresser, please.

How do people grow up knowing these things about food? And a random sidenote: my parents made me a ton of homemade applesauce (apples and cinnamon, and that’s it) and it is seriously awesome. If you’ve never made your own applesauce, go try it. Right now. Also, tell me interesting things about food that you never knew before.

I feel so productive.

Not only did I join a gym today, but I actually went to the gym! Oh yeah. I am so punk rock.

Due to the fact that I live in the middle of nowhere I had a limited number of gyms to choose from. I chose the one that isn't a chain (I'm all about supporting local business)--turns out its kind of ghetto fabulous, which I'm also amused by. It has a lot of cardio equipment and a whole bunch of weights and whatnot, and it was moderately cheap, so it seemed fine. The owner wasn't busy while I was there so he offered to show me how the equipment works, which was nice of him cause big electronic things tend to frighten me.

I must admit that I really almost chickened out. There is absolutely no reason why I should be afraid of gyms, but I kind of am. I swear my gym class experiences in school have damaged me emotionally--and I'm only partly kidding. Anyway, it turns out that it wasn't as terrifying as I expected. Luckily I was talking on the phone to a friend when I pulled into the parking lot and she yelled at me and told me not to be afraid of the gym people (she has a gym membership already so I trusted her).

After signing up I came home and thought to myself, "Self, why don't you actually go use that membership?" Back to the gym I went. I only logged in a little time on the elliptical since I'm trying to take it easy for the rest of the week. For the most part, I was the only person there. Later a man came in and did some weight lifting and hardcore grunting. It was pretty uneventful.

There you have it. Don't be afraid of the gym. They aren't that scary. Am I the only person afraid of gyms?

A new adventure!

I am joining a gym. That's right, the girl who is completely terrified of gyms and had never run on a treadmill until recently is joining a gym. It's not as expensive as I thought, and so I'm going to go for it.

Why, you ask?

Because it is f-ing cold outside. I know myself. As much as I say that I'll go running when there is a blizzard going on, that is a lie. It's f-ing cold out there, people.

So I'm going to join a gym--but probably only until it warms up enough to be outside again. Running in one spot sounds incredibly boring compared to running through the countryside. Details of my gym adventures to follow eventually.

Not so super. Don't let the photo fool you.

I forget that I don’t have super powers. Sure, it’s good to push yourself, but sometimes a person’s body just needs a break. I think I'’ve hit that point.

For the past few months I'’ve been doing some hardcore half marathon training and now that I'’m done with that event I have been thinking of what to jump into next--—there’s the 30 Day Shred, or I could be a triathlete, or I could just keep on trucking and go for a full marathon (which I plan to do. Portland Marathon, October 4, 2009. I am so there). I find motivation in setting goals for myself.

Monday evening I decided it was perfectly logical to run four miles. I'’m pretty sure that was a bad idea after having run a half marathon just two days prior. My legs were screaming at me the next morning. Also on Monday, I started the 30 Day Shred at level one. Sadly, I did not want to cry after completing the level one workout so Tuesday I moved on to level two: —much more to my liking, as this horrible thing called a plank jack made me want to punch myself in the face. That'’s just how I like to feel when I’m working out.

The problem is that I’ am fatigued. My legs are unhappy. I know that exercise does make a person feel pain, but that'’s the good pain and the kind of pain that I strive for. This is “"post-half marathon and I’'m doing too much"” pain. The kind of pain that leads to injury and suffering. Before all of you 30 Day Shred enthusiasts tell me that I’'m supposed to feel this way, allow me to explain: I haven'’t given my body a day off in quite some time, I have been warding off a cold for a few days, and I’'m pretty sure if you look up the definition of “over training” you would find a picture of me.

Last night I was reading “Runner’s World” at the library while waiting for Shawna to get off work (mainly because I saw that it featured an article on winter running and I wanted to find out if it was a bad idea to do things like run during a torrential downpour) and found an article about recovery time. According to people who know these things, I was supposed to take a break from running for a full week after a half marathon.

Oops. Maybe that’s why I feel like this? So for the next week, I am officially taking it easy. I need to remember this before I start to think that I can fly or walk through walls or anything.

America is awesome.

Last night was the type of night that people will never forget. Amazing. That’s all I can say. Ironically I wasn’'t even watching the results when it was announced that Obama won. During the last election results took forever so I figured I had plenty of time and was waiting for Shawna to get off work. As I stood outside the building, shivering because it was f-ing cold last night, I heard people shouting and horns honking. A few seconds later my mother called me, cheering, and I said, “"Oh damn, I just missed the exciting part, huh?”"

Luckily Shawna and I made it to a television in time to hear Obama speak. We joined the crowd in a downtown bar and ordered a couple beers (so much for my pledge to never drink again. I drank about half of a beer called “Blonde Bombshell” which I ordered because it has a cool name). Afterwards we enlisted the help of a stranger to take photos of us in front of the Obama headquarters. Turns out the strangers were also Obama fans and we ended up hugging strangers on the street corner and then cheering for a person riding a bicycle while carrying an American flag. I love America.

For your amusement, here are photos of our adventures:

Guess who our next president is?

Someone awesome and I'm oh so glad.

Time to vote!

Have you voted yet? If not, you should. I am wearing my Obama button today just because I can. I see that Shawna already beat me to a post about election day—she’s just too quick! Tonight will definitely be interesting as we watch the results come in. Yay democracy!

I had a strange experience recently regarding politics. First of all, I’m totally in favor of people forming their own political opinions. I have my beliefs, but I can assure that they are the complete opposite of many people in my life. My father is Republican (or so he says… I suspect he’s lying to himself) and many of my closest friends are the most conservative people you’ll ever meet. That’s never been an issue for me even though I am, by most definitions, a raging liberal. Luckily I have the right to believe what I want to believe. Yay America!

The town I grew up in is small and conservative. This past weekend I stopped to visit my parents on my way to Boise for the half marathon and on my way out of town I went to a gas station to fill my tank up. Currently my car is sporting an Obama bumper sticker. It’s also sporting an awesome sticker in the shape of Oregon with a green heart in the middle as well as a band-aid bumper sticker where I hit a parked car awhile back. I’m a classy broad, really. I didn’t even think about this until the gas station attendants proceeded to begin making derogatory statements about Obama… and then about ME! Clearly, I had my window rolled down. Clearly, they meant for me to hear them. D-bags.

Luckily I decided to be a bigger person and just ignored them. I hate confrontation anyway. I have no problem with them having a different opinion than I do—my problem was that they decided to voice it that way. There is a time and a place for politics and being disrespectful (and downright mean) while helping a customer is not one of them. I thought it would stop there and I really wasn’t very concerned. I was in a town with McCain/Palin signs on every corner so I suppose things like this can be expected. But then the pump stopped and they asked if I’d like the tank topped off—I responded, “Yes, please.” (Look how polite I am! Even though they were being rude!) One attendant then put in a whopping FOUR MORE CENTS and said, “That’s enough for her. You know Obama wouldn’t even top it off at all, he’d share it with everyone.” The men laughed, and one took my receipt, shoved it in my window, and walked away without another word.

How is that okay? Just because I don’t have the same opinions they do they decided it was acceptable to act like that? A huge reason why this annoyed me so much is that if they don’t top the tank off at least a little bit (certainly more than four cents) my tank doesn’t go all the way up to the full marker, and holy CRAP that is annoying.

These men were jerks. I wrote a letter about it to the gas station manager because I was that bothered. I don’t care what they believe in—they should believe in respecting a person’s right to their own opinion as well.

And that is one reason why I was so excited to have voted. No matter how ridiculously obnoxious that experience was, at least I know I have the right to choose my candidate. Yay voting!

It's election day!

Leslie and I are going to gather this evening and bite our nails as the results come in. Go vote! Apparently (if you don't live in Oregon and therefore vote by mail) you can get an "I voted" sticker, and claim some free swag. Nice! Go make me proud, and get a free coffee while you are at it.



This is a historic day, and I think we all know that. You may have read or heard this being read on CNN today, and I think it's quite beautiful.

There is a moment, a simple moment, before history gets recorded.
Before it goes in the books.
Before it appears as a question on a game show.
Or, on a midterm exam.
A moment right before the headline is written.
There is a moment when history lives in the present.
When we can watch it unfold in real time, right before our eyes.
And we can all assume our place in it.
Some people live for history
We live for the moment just before.

I am a camera whore.

Sometimes I wonder why I am motivated to live the way I live. Why I exercise regularly, why I eat healthy foods, why I proceed to be as awesome as possible. Today that very thing came into question again when I had an off day. You know the days when stuff is just not working? That was my day today.

I think that perhaps the time change threw me off. My hangover is gone (hurray!) but I woke up just feeling kind of gross. I ate crap yesterday cause I felt like crap, and my impending sickness seems determined to arrive. When I went for my four mile run the skies decided to open up and release a torrential downpour. The wind was icy cold and slapping me directly in the face, I was soaked, and it was dark and unpleasant outside. I didn't even take my favorite four-mile route because it was pitch black and I prefer to stick close to street lights in order to avoid being murdered or eaten by wild animals. As I trudged along and tried unsuccessfully to avoid puddles I thought to myself, "Self, what the f are you doing outside right now? It's cold and unfriendly out here." Then the hail started.

So here is a weird and narcissistic thing I sometimes do when I feel this way: I look at old photos of myself and remember what I have accomplished. That's right, I'm a camera whore and very vain. Don't judge. I forget that 70 pounds is a lot and sometimes I have to remind myself. I figure the changes I have created in myself are pretty good motivation. Also, not dying due to obesity related illnesses is another huge plus. All but one of the following are photos from the races I've done--not for any particular reason, I just thought it was interesting. I shall now proceed to humor myself. Enjoy.

Here is me at about 220 pounds:


The first 5K, April 2008:


The second 5K, July 2008:


Birthday 10K, September 2008:


And half marathon, last weekend:


I think that part of the reason I do this sometimes is that I don't realize how I have changed my body until I see photos of myself. So it might be a little strange, but it helps me remember that even though I may want to rip my legs off and hit myself in the face with them sometimes (like when I run 4 miles during a horrendous storm) there is definitely a method to my madness.

And that is enough of my rambling for today.

Half Marathon: FINISHED!!!!

Official time: 2:32:46!

Don't I look so victorious and non-sweaty in this photo? It's because we took it before I ran. I'm tricky like that.



I arrived in Boise on Friday and stopped to see a friend who just had a baby. Later I met up with a few other friends and we went to a corn maze in the dark which is just as creepy as it sounds. Also, I had a really good excuse to consume mass amounts of pasta and bread. Oh how I love me some carbs...

The next morning I had to pick up my packet and such at 8 a.m. My friend drove the course with me the night before whereupon I said awesome things like, "You call this a hill?" and "I'm going to kick these hills in the vagina!" Over the course of 13.1 miles there were three major hills--the first was gradual over three miles, the second was a baby hill and the third was a crazy ass-kicking hill that has probably sent someone into cardiac arrest at one point. Basically, I was glad I'd trained on hills, but still rather scared.

Before the race I was incredibly nervous. No matter how I looked at it, 13.1 miles seemed like a damn long way. Before the other races I have done (and I've only run three... two 5ks and a 10k) I was nervous but knew that it was only a limited amount of torture. A half marathon meant a couple hours of torture. Scary stuff.

Before I knew it we were lining up at the start. I tend to be ridiculously chatty so I ended up talking to a woman who had a baby five months ago. She hadn't actually trained for this type of distance and told me she'd only done 6 miles at a time. She stuck with me for about a mile and fell back--I hope she finished! She seemed very nice. Anyway, I tend to be okay at pacing myself so I tried to stay at a somewhat slower pace at the beginning in order to not want to die towards the end of the race. I kept seeing things people had dropped--a car key, energy gel, lip gloss... who carries lip gloss with them during a half marathon? I thought that was weird.

By mile three I started to get a little warm (I wore a zip up jacket cause it was f-ing cold and raining) so I became very creative in my methods of unpinning my number and pinning it to my tank top so I could tie my jacket around my waist. I'm amazing. It took some serious skill to do that and continue running, but luckily it distracted me from the torture of the first hill. Before I knew it I was over the first hill and running through a cute little town. Volunteers cheered me on, which was nice of them, and a man stared at my fellow runners and I as if he were wondering what the heck hundreds of people were doing running by his house. That would make a person curious.

Around this point I noticed that I was running behind a giant man. He was ridiculously tall. Also, he and his running buddy kept taking walking breaks so I would catch up to them (slow and steady wins the race, except they totally finished before me but whatever) and just as I would pass them they'd start running again, go super fast, and walk awhile later.

The second hill was tiny (if by tiny you assume I mean only moderately painful) and the next few miles passed by without incident. I chatted with a few old men around me. It's strange but it seems like I always end up with the old men--during the 10k I made friends with an old man and ran with him the whole time.

And then came the third hill... Ah, the torturous third hill. It hurt. It hurt badly. As we began to climb it the view was of the road winding up a gigantic mountain in front of us--I could see people waaaaaay ahead of me reaching the summit. I'm from Oregon; I don't throw the word "mountain" around lightly. The f-ing hill was huge. At one point the road leveled out a bit and I said to one of the old men running next to me, "This is the top, right?" He hesitated, so then I told him to please lie to me. He obliged. Five seconds later I said, "You really are a liar. But I appreciate the effort."

This hill did not mess around. The man I had been speaking proceeded to say, "Oh there will be a nice walk in a minute." In my head my reaction was, "Walking?!?! Pshaw! Walking is for sissies! There will be no walking!" When I was maybe a tenth of a mile from the top of the hill I looked around me and everyone was walking. Not a single person was still running--next to me, in front of me, or behind me. At this point I knew I had to walk. I find no shame in this because it was either walk to the top of the hill or die trying to run just for the point of running. That hill was a bitch.

Finally I did reach the top, and my new friend told me that it really was the top. Also, he warned me that right at the end there was another tiny hill that surprises you but once you are over it the finish line is right there. He was a wise fellow. I believe the third hill ended around mile 8 or 9... Somewhere around this point I noticed that I could hear my arm flab slapping against my side--I'm not saying that to be self deprecating, I just had never noticed that it makes a sound because usually I run while listening to music. During the race I wanted to focus and listen to nature, so I was discovering all kinds of interesting things. So that was fun. I started to wonder what the heck happened to mile 10 because I swear it took awhile to show up, but eventually it did. Miles 10 to 11 were moderately uneventful. There was running. I ran, and ran, and ran. At one of the aid stations the cups were bigger than usual and my attempt to drink whilst running led to me pouring water directly down my shirt, but it was very refreshing so I figure it served the same purpose. Eventually we came back towards town where a nice man had his hose turned on for the runners passing by his yard. Right before mile 12 one of the volunteers yelled, "You have under a mile left!" Either someone didn't inform her what mile marker she was at or she was just lying to us so we'd keep going--either way, it was mean, because then I saw the mile 12 marker and knew it was actually just OVER a mile.

I ran up the final incline and saw the finish in the distance! Woo hoo! That's always my favorite part. I decided to show off and sprinted to the finish, if by sprinting you take it to mean "ran at a slightly quicker pace in order to not look like a turtle could beat me." I saw my cheering squad, which consisted of a few friends and my parents, and raised my arms above my head while yelling, "WOOO! I AM DONE!" Lucky for all of you, they captured me looking happy to be finishing:



After the race I went out on the town with a few friends, and it was then that I remembered why I don't drink very often. Back in my college days I did my fair share of partying and could hold my own when it came to beer drinking. Now, however, I rarely have more than one or two drinks. Even having one drink usually leaves me feeling gross so I tend to just not bother. Last night involved WAY too much booze for me... Today I feel like crap and had to drive seven hours to get home. Unpleasant, to say the least. My night ended like this:



So now I can say I have finished a half marathon. I think that's pretty cool. Also, it was f-ing hard. I feel very badass.

For some reason (I think the adrenaline made me a little insane) I told the cheering squad that I'm going to run the Portland Marathon next October. It went something like this: they asked when I was going to do a full marathon and I responded with, "I don't know... how about next October? That's when the Portland Marathon happens, I think." So now I have basically committed myself to going for the full marathon. I'm just glad I have almost a year to prepare for that one!!!

I finished in 711th place out of 908 people. I'll take it! That means I ran about 11:30 miles and I'm quite happy with that. I finished earlier than I expected and definitely accomplished my only goal (to finish). I'm proud of myself!