Serious re-commitment is what I'm trying to do. No, it's what I AM doing. Serious 100% ass kicking, no excuses, no wavering, no second guessing re-commitment. I am learning things that common sense has told me I should already know, but in writing some of these things down and looking at my own failures and short comings in black and white, it's like another A-HA moment.
I'm trying to picture myself at "optimal health" but I can honestly say that I don't know that I will ever see myself as one of those "I'm forever going to make the healthiest decisions." type of gals or that people will look at me and say, 'She is the picture of perfect health.' I don't know that I will ever be a "Throw away the bar-b-que nachos, they will make me sick and hand me a stalk of celery sprinkled with sea salt, you junk food heathens!" Type of person...perhaps I will be, I just don't see that, today.
I am trying to picture a happier, healthier, smaller assed me. The problem I have is that I still see the miserable, flabby six chinned me in the mirror, that's the part that needs fixing. That's what the focus is on.
I have also come to the conclusion that June 1 will be it. I will be in transition, or completely out of transition and in maintenance on June 1. That will be my one year anniversary. That will be it, no matter what the scale says. I have also decided that I would like the scale to read 40 pounds less than it does now. Okay 44 pounds...that would be 100 pounds lost in a year. Can I do it? Quite honestly it scares the living shit out of me. The reality is 44 pounds is 11 pounds per month. Very easy to do on this plan. The Devil's Advocate in me is saying, "If it were truly that easy, wouldn't you already be there?" I know its not easy but neither is child birth and I did that shit twice. I can do this shit twice, too.
The void seems to think he has the magical solution to jumping back into the program head first. More sex. Funny, that's his answer to everything. "Crisis in Lybia, you say? They obviously should change the name of their country to Labia and have more sex. Problem solved. Unions protesting against the possible elimination of collective bargaining? Hmm...they should just have a giant orgy, problem would be over." That's what would happen if he ran the world. When it comes to my weight loss issues, unfortunately it doesn't burn NEARLY enough calories for the amount of effort required.
So, here we are again, recommitting, again. Saying that's it again. This time, I think it's going to be different. It has to be. It WILL be. (Power of positive attitude and all that bullshit..)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I think I'm in love
with Dr. A and his Habits of Health. Well, at least after chapter 1. He told me what I've known now, for long time..."It's not my fault my ass is this size." There are a variety of reasons, beyond my control, which have lead to having the amount of junk that is in this trunk. Me thinks that chapters 2-10(?) will tell me what to do to combat these reasons that are beyond my control and I'm getting the feeling that a "Change is a coming." And that I may not enjoy parts of it. Alas, that's what we are here to do. No one said that Operation S.A. would be kittens and rainbows shooting out of my ass. (For those of you lost on who Dr. A is and what this is all about, it is my homework assigned to me by Coach K.)
Couch to 5K begins one week from today. I have officially declared March 1 the start day. It should be good. No, it WILL be good. Gotta have that positive attitude, right?
The void is driving me insane right now. He's had a very stressful week, with lots of work crap that I wouldn't want to deal with, and I understand that, BUT. I don't drink milk, SOOOO, I don't check the expiration date on it. I bought it Monday, the date on the jug is today, it smells fine, so drink the shit, or buy your own goddamned milk. I came home yesterday to find 98% of the bedding on our bed in a heap on the floor. Automatically, I know that the remote is missing. What are you, a two year old? Lets throw a fittie and throw everything in a pile because you actually have to get up and turn the television off. (P.S. the remote had fallen behind the bed, simple common sense would have told one this.) This morning, we throw another fittie screaming, "FUCK, OUCH," because we have tripped on a blanket lying on the floor. ITS A BLANKET NOT A BRICK! And it's a blanket which YOU have kicked off over night. Duh....These are the times in which I need a true home gym so I can go and do some intense weight lifting and grunt my frustrations out. Actually, I think I might buy a medicine ball and play a little catch so I can throw heavy shit at him.... and he wonders why I feel the need to drink...
Couch to 5K begins one week from today. I have officially declared March 1 the start day. It should be good. No, it WILL be good. Gotta have that positive attitude, right?
The void is driving me insane right now. He's had a very stressful week, with lots of work crap that I wouldn't want to deal with, and I understand that, BUT. I don't drink milk, SOOOO, I don't check the expiration date on it. I bought it Monday, the date on the jug is today, it smells fine, so drink the shit, or buy your own goddamned milk. I came home yesterday to find 98% of the bedding on our bed in a heap on the floor. Automatically, I know that the remote is missing. What are you, a two year old? Lets throw a fittie and throw everything in a pile because you actually have to get up and turn the television off. (P.S. the remote had fallen behind the bed, simple common sense would have told one this.) This morning, we throw another fittie screaming, "FUCK, OUCH," because we have tripped on a blanket lying on the floor. ITS A BLANKET NOT A BRICK! And it's a blanket which YOU have kicked off over night. Duh....These are the times in which I need a true home gym so I can go and do some intense weight lifting and grunt my frustrations out. Actually, I think I might buy a medicine ball and play a little catch so I can throw heavy shit at him.... and he wonders why I feel the need to drink...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
BBQ nachos and fried pickles
Yes, these are two foods I nibbled on over the weekend. Do I know better? Yes. Should I have eaten them? No. Were they worth it? At the time, yes, now on the scale...no. But let me paint a picture for you. I will title it, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Drew's wrestling tournament on Sunday, Grade School and Junior High State. $39 to enter. (I believe I have already announced a "You've got to be fucking kidding me" on this one.) Luckily he made weight and we did not have to pay to $20 fee to change brackets. (Little bastard lost 9 pounds in 5 days. I love him, but I hate him.)
We get to the venue, which is Hy-Vee Hall. There are no seats in Hy-Vee Hall. (You've got to be fucking kidding me)
Admission for me to get into the meet $15. For Jaci $10. (You've got to be fucking kidding me)
3-4,000 people, seats that were wheeled in for people to "sit" in, maybe 500. (You've got to be fucking kidding me.)
Standing, yes standing for 6 1/2 hours to watch Drew wrestle 2 matches. (You've got to be fucking kidding me.)
Upon leaving, this cranky, (scratch that) bitchy, tired, sore from standing on concrete all day mama wants a freakin' beer. Where does hubby stop? Hooters. (You've got to be fucking kidding me)
I am not lying when I tell you our waitress' name is Basil. (You've got to...I think you can see where I'm headed here.)
I drank at least 6 beers, they were Select 55, so it was like technically only three. I did sample the friend pickles. I did also sample the BBQ nachos the kids had at Hy-Vee Hall. I was at a point of, I really don't care. I am tired, I am stressed out. I am bitchy, the last thing I want to eat is a plate of lettuce. The pickles were great, the beer was good. I ordered a grilled mahi sandwich, hold the bun with coleslaw for my meal, Spaghetti, our waitress. (Oh, wait, BASIL, yes, that was her name, my bad.) lost our ticket, so it took forever and three more beers for the rest of the food to arrive. Needless to say, it was not a stellar, on plan experience. I am happy to report that I did not gain any weight. I maintained. I will take that.
I start my homework this week with Coach, I am hoping I can learn a few ways to cope with the "I'm bitchy and really don't care" thing. However, I'm sure there will be days in my future where I say, fuck it and eat the pickles. It would just be nice to learn some "head tricks."
Little Bro and his wife started the plan this week. One meal into it, I get a phone call from him telling me, "I fucking hate you." His first meal..oatmeal. I told him to suck it up, it will get better. I have had four more phone calls from each of them. They are too funny. My brother is already a bitch, so I feel really bad for his students this week, cuz he will probably be at cuntasaurus rex level by tomorrow!
Drew's wrestling tournament on Sunday, Grade School and Junior High State. $39 to enter. (I believe I have already announced a "You've got to be fucking kidding me" on this one.) Luckily he made weight and we did not have to pay to $20 fee to change brackets. (Little bastard lost 9 pounds in 5 days. I love him, but I hate him.)
We get to the venue, which is Hy-Vee Hall. There are no seats in Hy-Vee Hall. (You've got to be fucking kidding me)
Admission for me to get into the meet $15. For Jaci $10. (You've got to be fucking kidding me)
3-4,000 people, seats that were wheeled in for people to "sit" in, maybe 500. (You've got to be fucking kidding me.)
Standing, yes standing for 6 1/2 hours to watch Drew wrestle 2 matches. (You've got to be fucking kidding me.)
Upon leaving, this cranky, (scratch that) bitchy, tired, sore from standing on concrete all day mama wants a freakin' beer. Where does hubby stop? Hooters. (You've got to be fucking kidding me)
I am not lying when I tell you our waitress' name is Basil. (You've got to...I think you can see where I'm headed here.)
I drank at least 6 beers, they were Select 55, so it was like technically only three. I did sample the friend pickles. I did also sample the BBQ nachos the kids had at Hy-Vee Hall. I was at a point of, I really don't care. I am tired, I am stressed out. I am bitchy, the last thing I want to eat is a plate of lettuce. The pickles were great, the beer was good. I ordered a grilled mahi sandwich, hold the bun with coleslaw for my meal, Spaghetti, our waitress. (Oh, wait, BASIL, yes, that was her name, my bad.) lost our ticket, so it took forever and three more beers for the rest of the food to arrive. Needless to say, it was not a stellar, on plan experience. I am happy to report that I did not gain any weight. I maintained. I will take that.
I start my homework this week with Coach, I am hoping I can learn a few ways to cope with the "I'm bitchy and really don't care" thing. However, I'm sure there will be days in my future where I say, fuck it and eat the pickles. It would just be nice to learn some "head tricks."
Little Bro and his wife started the plan this week. One meal into it, I get a phone call from him telling me, "I fucking hate you." His first meal..oatmeal. I told him to suck it up, it will get better. I have had four more phone calls from each of them. They are too funny. My brother is already a bitch, so I feel really bad for his students this week, cuz he will probably be at cuntasaurus rex level by tomorrow!
Friday, February 18, 2011
For F%#* sake
people...corn is not a vegetable, it is a starch. Last night was the third such event I have attended in the past month or two in which a buffet meal was served consisting of meat, cheesy potatoes and the "vegetable" was corn....Oh and don't forget the dinner roll. Thank God the void hates salad and I could eat his salad too.
I went for a run last night, okay, fine, a jog...down the road to the south was wonderful, heading back to the north, awful, as I was heading straight into the wind. It felt pretty good, though, and my thighs hurt a little this morning, so that is always a good sign. Someone tried talking me into running the 5K at Dam to Dam this year. She said that there are tons of people who run it, so it keeps you motivated to keep running and you are never the slowest...I beg to differ, she's never seen me run. I do however have a faster pace than someone else who shall remain nameless...I dunno, I'll debate that. Two 5K's may just be enough for me, we'll see.
I also had another random, "you've lost a ton of weight, girl" comment. It was followed by, 'what's your secret?" I was holding a can of Ultra that was swimming in it's koozie, so I said, "I drink beer out of skinnier cans." (Yes, drinking beer, yes we've had this conversation.) (Yes, I should have told him exactly what program I was doing, but I honestly think this was just one of those 'making conversation' comments and not one that was truly interested in the program. I've learned to decipher the difference.)
I'm going to get a few more random comments off of my chest today, as I feel the need to purge them, so bear with me....
The dumbass I work with, who technically doesn't work in my office anymore, but still stops by almost daily to annoy the fuck out of me, is REALLY annoying the fuck out of me this week. It's a good thing he doesn't stay here more than about 10 minutes because A) I would punch him in the face and B) My tongue would be hamburger, because I have been biting it so hard in an effort not to reply to his fucking retarded commentary.
There are some people in this world who truly need reality checks on how "unimportant" they are, compared to how "important" the THINK they are. Seriously, would it kill you to say hello when spoken to? Especially when you are addressed by name? I do know the family in which you grew up and it was not a monarchy, you are not royalty, by any means, so can the "bow down before me princess act," bitch.
Dear Mr./Mrs. elderly person who brings in a newspaper clipping from another newspaper or magazine. I'm sorry, but no, I cannot just re-print this. It's called plagiarism. I will try to contact who actually wrote it and ask their permission to reprint it, but I'm positive that I cannot just re-type a 6 page magazine article and call it good, just because you say please.
On the same lines, Dear Mary Alice, Kiss my ass....real estate transactions are a matter of public record. They are a bitch to decipher and try to retype and no I don't have time to do it very often. You just want to be nosy, so hike your happy ass up to the courthouse and look it up yourself, if you are dying to know who bought what. I am only allowed to work 40 hours budget cuts that the schools and county are facing, visits from the state secretary of agriculture, a soldier surprising her son at school are all a little more fucking important ways to spend my 40 hours versus figuring out what the Jones's paid for the house down the street.
There is a real down side to losing a large amount of weight. Shocking, but true. Yes, the new shirts, jeans, etc in smaller sizes are great, but all new underwear is not so fun. Why you might ask? Because the new, smaller underwear is all "cutesy" shit. I have no plain old, womens version of a whitey tighty in my drawer. There are some days where you just really want a plain old pair of skivvies to wear under your sweat pants. You know, the kind that won't crawl up your ass when you're trying to get the cobwebs off your ceiling fan. Or the kind that you don't have to look at each direction three or four times to decipher which is the front and which is the back. (I have enough trouble with that the way it is.) So sadly, one of the next things I need to buy myself is a pair of granny panties. (At least I can comfort myself with the fact that they will be a smaller size.)
I went for a run last night, okay, fine, a jog...down the road to the south was wonderful, heading back to the north, awful, as I was heading straight into the wind. It felt pretty good, though, and my thighs hurt a little this morning, so that is always a good sign. Someone tried talking me into running the 5K at Dam to Dam this year. She said that there are tons of people who run it, so it keeps you motivated to keep running and you are never the slowest...I beg to differ, she's never seen me run. I do however have a faster pace than someone else who shall remain nameless...I dunno, I'll debate that. Two 5K's may just be enough for me, we'll see.
I also had another random, "you've lost a ton of weight, girl" comment. It was followed by, 'what's your secret?" I was holding a can of Ultra that was swimming in it's koozie, so I said, "I drink beer out of skinnier cans." (Yes, drinking beer, yes we've had this conversation.) (Yes, I should have told him exactly what program I was doing, but I honestly think this was just one of those 'making conversation' comments and not one that was truly interested in the program. I've learned to decipher the difference.)
I'm going to get a few more random comments off of my chest today, as I feel the need to purge them, so bear with me....
The dumbass I work with, who technically doesn't work in my office anymore, but still stops by almost daily to annoy the fuck out of me, is REALLY annoying the fuck out of me this week. It's a good thing he doesn't stay here more than about 10 minutes because A) I would punch him in the face and B) My tongue would be hamburger, because I have been biting it so hard in an effort not to reply to his fucking retarded commentary.
There are some people in this world who truly need reality checks on how "unimportant" they are, compared to how "important" the THINK they are. Seriously, would it kill you to say hello when spoken to? Especially when you are addressed by name? I do know the family in which you grew up and it was not a monarchy, you are not royalty, by any means, so can the "bow down before me princess act," bitch.
Dear Mr./Mrs. elderly person who brings in a newspaper clipping from another newspaper or magazine. I'm sorry, but no, I cannot just re-print this. It's called plagiarism. I will try to contact who actually wrote it and ask their permission to reprint it, but I'm positive that I cannot just re-type a 6 page magazine article and call it good, just because you say please.
On the same lines, Dear Mary Alice, Kiss my ass....real estate transactions are a matter of public record. They are a bitch to decipher and try to retype and no I don't have time to do it very often. You just want to be nosy, so hike your happy ass up to the courthouse and look it up yourself, if you are dying to know who bought what. I am only allowed to work 40 hours budget cuts that the schools and county are facing, visits from the state secretary of agriculture, a soldier surprising her son at school are all a little more fucking important ways to spend my 40 hours versus figuring out what the Jones's paid for the house down the street.
There is a real down side to losing a large amount of weight. Shocking, but true. Yes, the new shirts, jeans, etc in smaller sizes are great, but all new underwear is not so fun. Why you might ask? Because the new, smaller underwear is all "cutesy" shit. I have no plain old, womens version of a whitey tighty in my drawer. There are some days where you just really want a plain old pair of skivvies to wear under your sweat pants. You know, the kind that won't crawl up your ass when you're trying to get the cobwebs off your ceiling fan. Or the kind that you don't have to look at each direction three or four times to decipher which is the front and which is the back. (I have enough trouble with that the way it is.) So sadly, one of the next things I need to buy myself is a pair of granny panties. (At least I can comfort myself with the fact that they will be a smaller size.)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Double post day
Yes, it is a double post day because I am TRAPPED inside my office on this beautiful day and am trying to keep busy.
Not that I want you stalker friends reading other blogs, because I'm selfish and insecure and need you all to adore me, BUT bleautifulnewme.blogspot is great for those of us on Coach K's plan. You will find an ASS load of recipes on there.
HOLY Bat shit Batman, I just found out that WF has alfredo sauce. I am thinking of shirataki noodles, a little grilled chicken, some broccoli and WF alfredo and this will be one happy girl...
Also, the blog I found had a fantastic looking breakfast sandwich that I am DYING to try, I will report on that once I get to the city and get some MF sausage patties.
Another thing the blog suggested that I had never thought of, substitute your WF pancake syrup for the water when you're making your pancakes or pancake muffins, less mess with all the flavor, making them much more portable, which is a must for me when I typically eat breakfast on the run. (Actually, on the drive, in my van).
The big news of the day is a wrestler from Linn-Marr defaulting his opening round match at the HS wrestling tourney because of "religious reasons". (He was supposed to wrestle a girl.) Here's what I think. 1) In all of my years of Bible School/Sunday School/Catechism/church attendance/church council doin's, I have never heard "Thou Shalt not wrestle a girl." 2) I don't blame the kid for not wanting to wrestle a girl, it's one thing to be 6 and lose to a girl at a pee-wee tourney, because said girl has three older brothers and is tougher than whale snot. It's something quite different to lose to a girl at the HIGH SCHOOL STATE MEET. (Not saying that he would lose, chances are he'd wipe her ass, but still...nothing is certain on a wrestling mat, that's why they wrestle and don't just award medals based on rankings) 3) As a mother of a wrestler and also having a daughter. GIRLS SHOULDN'T WRESTLE! Yes, those of us with vaginas should be allowed to do the same things those with manginas do, but just because we have the RIGHT to, doesn't mean we should. I have watched countless wrestling matches since Drew started the sport in 1st grade. A large majority of the moves require a large number of crotch grabs. 4) If we, as a society insist on letting girls wrestle in high school, by all means, there should be boys allowed on the volleyball team.
One more hour, then I will be escaping and going for a run....never thought I would utter the words "I Can't Wait," in conjunction with that phrase.
Not that I want you stalker friends reading other blogs, because I'm selfish and insecure and need you all to adore me, BUT bleautifulnewme.blogspot is great for those of us on Coach K's plan. You will find an ASS load of recipes on there.
HOLY Bat shit Batman, I just found out that WF has alfredo sauce. I am thinking of shirataki noodles, a little grilled chicken, some broccoli and WF alfredo and this will be one happy girl...
Also, the blog I found had a fantastic looking breakfast sandwich that I am DYING to try, I will report on that once I get to the city and get some MF sausage patties.
Another thing the blog suggested that I had never thought of, substitute your WF pancake syrup for the water when you're making your pancakes or pancake muffins, less mess with all the flavor, making them much more portable, which is a must for me when I typically eat breakfast on the run. (Actually, on the drive, in my van).
The big news of the day is a wrestler from Linn-Marr defaulting his opening round match at the HS wrestling tourney because of "religious reasons". (He was supposed to wrestle a girl.) Here's what I think. 1) In all of my years of Bible School/Sunday School/Catechism/church attendance/church council doin's, I have never heard "Thou Shalt not wrestle a girl." 2) I don't blame the kid for not wanting to wrestle a girl, it's one thing to be 6 and lose to a girl at a pee-wee tourney, because said girl has three older brothers and is tougher than whale snot. It's something quite different to lose to a girl at the HIGH SCHOOL STATE MEET. (Not saying that he would lose, chances are he'd wipe her ass, but still...nothing is certain on a wrestling mat, that's why they wrestle and don't just award medals based on rankings) 3) As a mother of a wrestler and also having a daughter. GIRLS SHOULDN'T WRESTLE! Yes, those of us with vaginas should be allowed to do the same things those with manginas do, but just because we have the RIGHT to, doesn't mean we should. I have watched countless wrestling matches since Drew started the sport in 1st grade. A large majority of the moves require a large number of crotch grabs. 4) If we, as a society insist on letting girls wrestle in high school, by all means, there should be boys allowed on the volleyball team.
One more hour, then I will be escaping and going for a run....never thought I would utter the words "I Can't Wait," in conjunction with that phrase.
See? I told you
I am not a numbers person. After debating my 12-18 mph and getting a calculator out... (I had to borrow one from the kids) I determined one of two things. I have super human speed, or my speedometer on my ellipitcal doesn't work for shit. I'm going with option number two. 12 mph, ok, that might be perceivable, but 18? Good lord, that's like Olympic speeds and that sure as shit, ain't me. So, I have decided that I will never again look at the little digital rotating numbers on my screen, as I don't even trust that it can tell time correctly. I will put my i pod back on, do my set program of 8-10 songs and be happy.
This morning, oh what a morning. Drew wanted up so he could go run outside. He was going to run to the highway and back, roughly two miles, pretty hilly terrain. I woke him up at 6, went back to bed. Should I have worked out? You're damned right. But, alas, I did not. Here's why...I am positive I cannot do hills yet. It was dark. I was tired. AND I plan to run out side, heading the opposite direction Drew went this morning, very little incline, when I get off work tonight. In the daylight.
I should stress that me working out in the morning, is nothing short of miraculous, as I am not a morning person. As in, if I could sleep til 11 every day, I would, happily.
While good things happen when i wake up in the morning and exercise. (Its done and out of the way. I feel good. I have a lot of energy. I get to work earlier.) There are drawbacks to my ass being upright and mobile before 7 a.m. namely: more often than not I get off the elliptical one eye still shut and exhausted, therefore when I stumble out of the shower and try to tip toe into the closet without waking anyone else up, I end up putting my underwear on inside out, backwards, or both. OR, I put on socks that don't match. (which some days I do anyway because, hey they are 2 socks, they are clean, they are going into my boots and no one will see them, so who gives a shit....I despise folding socks) Or yesterday, I put my underwear on backwards and i grabbed two different colored earrings. One gold hoop, one silver. Yep, that's me...
Again I would like to stress how sublimely unfair it is to have someone in the house with a 14 year old boy's metabolism. He's down to 131 this morning. I, being perfectly on plan am up 3 pounds. Being a girl SUCKS! (I forgot yesterday, that I did lose another 2 pounds last weigh in). He has 2 more pounds to lose by Saturday at 2 p.m. Technically only one, but he wants to leave the house Saturday morning weighing roughly 128.5 in case there is some scale differential. I would give my left ovary to weigh 128.5. Actually, I take that back, I wouldn't, as if i weighed that, people would start planning a benefit for me and wondering what was ailing me.
I am very intrigued by the TreadClimber, advertised on tv. I can't switch channels when that commercial comes on. I want one in the worst way. I would imagine, however, it costs roughly the same amount of dollars that it would cost to side my house and siding will win out.
My husband and daughter thought I was trying to kill them last night as the dinner menu featured grilled fish and broccoli. I thought I was being pretty damned nice serving theirs with tartar sauce. The void actually said that it wasn't so bad and we should have more meals like that. My daughter, on the other hand, fought me tooth and nail and ending up spitting out the last few bites. I made her a deal, next time, she could have a little cheese on her broccoli or she could have a salad. I think I might just fix fish and broccoli for supper again tonight! LOL!
This morning, oh what a morning. Drew wanted up so he could go run outside. He was going to run to the highway and back, roughly two miles, pretty hilly terrain. I woke him up at 6, went back to bed. Should I have worked out? You're damned right. But, alas, I did not. Here's why...I am positive I cannot do hills yet. It was dark. I was tired. AND I plan to run out side, heading the opposite direction Drew went this morning, very little incline, when I get off work tonight. In the daylight.
I should stress that me working out in the morning, is nothing short of miraculous, as I am not a morning person. As in, if I could sleep til 11 every day, I would, happily.
While good things happen when i wake up in the morning and exercise. (Its done and out of the way. I feel good. I have a lot of energy. I get to work earlier.) There are drawbacks to my ass being upright and mobile before 7 a.m. namely: more often than not I get off the elliptical one eye still shut and exhausted, therefore when I stumble out of the shower and try to tip toe into the closet without waking anyone else up, I end up putting my underwear on inside out, backwards, or both. OR, I put on socks that don't match. (which some days I do anyway because, hey they are 2 socks, they are clean, they are going into my boots and no one will see them, so who gives a shit....I despise folding socks) Or yesterday, I put my underwear on backwards and i grabbed two different colored earrings. One gold hoop, one silver. Yep, that's me...
Again I would like to stress how sublimely unfair it is to have someone in the house with a 14 year old boy's metabolism. He's down to 131 this morning. I, being perfectly on plan am up 3 pounds. Being a girl SUCKS! (I forgot yesterday, that I did lose another 2 pounds last weigh in). He has 2 more pounds to lose by Saturday at 2 p.m. Technically only one, but he wants to leave the house Saturday morning weighing roughly 128.5 in case there is some scale differential. I would give my left ovary to weigh 128.5. Actually, I take that back, I wouldn't, as if i weighed that, people would start planning a benefit for me and wondering what was ailing me.
I am very intrigued by the TreadClimber, advertised on tv. I can't switch channels when that commercial comes on. I want one in the worst way. I would imagine, however, it costs roughly the same amount of dollars that it would cost to side my house and siding will win out.
My husband and daughter thought I was trying to kill them last night as the dinner menu featured grilled fish and broccoli. I thought I was being pretty damned nice serving theirs with tartar sauce. The void actually said that it wasn't so bad and we should have more meals like that. My daughter, on the other hand, fought me tooth and nail and ending up spitting out the last few bites. I made her a deal, next time, she could have a little cheese on her broccoli or she could have a salad. I think I might just fix fish and broccoli for supper again tonight! LOL!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Yikes!
Two whole weekdays without talking to you stalker friends! You've been waiting on pins and needles for me haven't you? (I'll try not to delude myself into thinking your worlds revolve around my little postings. Secretly, I know they do, it's okay, we'll keep it a secret.)
So, we have whole family on programness this week. Well, sort of, as on plan as a few of my family members can get. Drew is wrestling at State Junior High this weekend. He informed me of this on Saturday. Registration was due, on line, on Sunday. In our hungover haze, we donned our sexiest sweatpants and headed into FS (no internet at home, spoiled with unlimited high speed access at the office, can't bring myself to pay for it at home) we signed him up. Longest, most detailed registration form, I have seen and it cost $39. (Hopefully, there is a t-shirt that comes with it and it better be one fucking fantastic t-shirt) Anywho...the weight classes were divided into five pound increments, until the 130 mark, then it jumps to 10 pound. So we called Drew to ask what he weighed, he said, 133, so we registered him at 130. The common sense in me figured, anyone under 135 wrestled 130, anyone over wrestled 140. I had the opportunity to read the fine print on Monday. If you are even a 10th of a pound over, you wrestle up in the next weight bracket AND they assess you a $20 penalty. SOOOO, we are cutting weight. I figured 3 pounds, no biggie. Drew got home from his weekend with my folks at the Beef Expo (which means loads of junk food) he stepped on the scale weighing 137. He's down to 132.6 today. We're doing 2 a day work outs, plus practices and we've cut out all carbs for him, which means no carbs for Dan or Jaci either. (other than the cookies I baked for him for valentines day, which he has kept out of eyesight/reach of the kids)
The two a day work outs consist of me getting up at 6 hitting the elliptical, waking him up when my 1/2 hr is done and then he goes for a half hr, twice a day, plus, he runs from the high school to my office after school. Plus, jump roping, etc.
Monday night, upon discovering his 137 pounds, he went down and hopped on the elliptical for a half an hour. I woke up Tuesday morning to do my little work out. I thought I was going to die. I knew the tequila and I had been a little too friendly Saturday night. And the two cigarettes (yeah, yeah, yeah, I KNOW, save it) I shared with Squeaky Pete were not smart, but certainly, I haven't fallen THIS far out of shape in a matter of 4 or 5 days. I shit you not, I made it 16 minutes. (granted I did do 3 1/2 minutes of it at 19 mph) I literally fell off the elliptical in a huffing and puffing, dizzy heap and have never been so grateful for the cold concrete floors in the mancave. Struggling to walk and speak, I woke the kids up so Drew could do his work out.
Amazingly, I repeated the effort this morning. Again, made it only 15 minutes. (I did look and I was averaging between 12 and 18 mph) So, at a bare minimum, I went a mile and a half.) I then got out my resistance bands and did some work with those. FINALLY, it dawned on me...Drew cranks up the resistance on the elliptical, to, like, maximum levels. Why did I not think to look at that sooner? Oh well, the good news, and of course, I realize that mileage on an elliptical is different than mileage jogging on a road course: even at warm up and cool down stage, I am doing 12 miles per hour. That means, a 10 minute mile is certainly not out of reach if I take my training seriously. (At least I think...I'm not a numbers person here, hence the non-number career path.)
Anyway...that's the shiznit for now....but for shit's sake, would someone remind me to turn the resistance down tomorrow morning! :)
So, we have whole family on programness this week. Well, sort of, as on plan as a few of my family members can get. Drew is wrestling at State Junior High this weekend. He informed me of this on Saturday. Registration was due, on line, on Sunday. In our hungover haze, we donned our sexiest sweatpants and headed into FS (no internet at home, spoiled with unlimited high speed access at the office, can't bring myself to pay for it at home) we signed him up. Longest, most detailed registration form, I have seen and it cost $39. (Hopefully, there is a t-shirt that comes with it and it better be one fucking fantastic t-shirt) Anywho...the weight classes were divided into five pound increments, until the 130 mark, then it jumps to 10 pound. So we called Drew to ask what he weighed, he said, 133, so we registered him at 130. The common sense in me figured, anyone under 135 wrestled 130, anyone over wrestled 140. I had the opportunity to read the fine print on Monday. If you are even a 10th of a pound over, you wrestle up in the next weight bracket AND they assess you a $20 penalty. SOOOO, we are cutting weight. I figured 3 pounds, no biggie. Drew got home from his weekend with my folks at the Beef Expo (which means loads of junk food) he stepped on the scale weighing 137. He's down to 132.6 today. We're doing 2 a day work outs, plus practices and we've cut out all carbs for him, which means no carbs for Dan or Jaci either. (other than the cookies I baked for him for valentines day, which he has kept out of eyesight/reach of the kids)
The two a day work outs consist of me getting up at 6 hitting the elliptical, waking him up when my 1/2 hr is done and then he goes for a half hr, twice a day, plus, he runs from the high school to my office after school. Plus, jump roping, etc.
Monday night, upon discovering his 137 pounds, he went down and hopped on the elliptical for a half an hour. I woke up Tuesday morning to do my little work out. I thought I was going to die. I knew the tequila and I had been a little too friendly Saturday night. And the two cigarettes (yeah, yeah, yeah, I KNOW, save it) I shared with Squeaky Pete were not smart, but certainly, I haven't fallen THIS far out of shape in a matter of 4 or 5 days. I shit you not, I made it 16 minutes. (granted I did do 3 1/2 minutes of it at 19 mph) I literally fell off the elliptical in a huffing and puffing, dizzy heap and have never been so grateful for the cold concrete floors in the mancave. Struggling to walk and speak, I woke the kids up so Drew could do his work out.
Amazingly, I repeated the effort this morning. Again, made it only 15 minutes. (I did look and I was averaging between 12 and 18 mph) So, at a bare minimum, I went a mile and a half.) I then got out my resistance bands and did some work with those. FINALLY, it dawned on me...Drew cranks up the resistance on the elliptical, to, like, maximum levels. Why did I not think to look at that sooner? Oh well, the good news, and of course, I realize that mileage on an elliptical is different than mileage jogging on a road course: even at warm up and cool down stage, I am doing 12 miles per hour. That means, a 10 minute mile is certainly not out of reach if I take my training seriously. (At least I think...I'm not a numbers person here, hence the non-number career path.)
Anyway...that's the shiznit for now....but for shit's sake, would someone remind me to turn the resistance down tomorrow morning! :)
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