Benches Before Work
Trying to be quick before work today. I have been off for several days now and I am kind of dreading going back. I like staying home. But I like money too so… This is Little Red Riding Hood. It has a back too. All of the benches have backs obviously, but some of them are decorated with something extra. This is one of them.
This bench has texture and depth and it’s really kind of cool. The next one is kind of plain like the Snow White one, so it gets second tier post status. Aren’t I just Judgey McJudgey over here. My site. My opinions. This is Let Down Your Hair. The Rapunzel story.
That takes care of 2 more. We are at 6/20. Next up is our intermission pictures. There is/was a Dodge, now Fiat, dealership in the middle of town that always has something we like to take a picture of. So we wasted about 15 minutes there, looking at cars, while my girl complained that this is NOT what we came here to look at! She was right. Plus it was scorchingly hot on all that black asphalt. But I still took too long to take a photo of a Super Bee Charger. 392 Hemi. $46,000. Black as night paint. Called “Pitch Black”. I’ll just put those pics here to save time. The front. And the logo. That’s all anyone cares about anyway.
That should lead me nicely into Zoo pictures and Beach pictures. And also fishing, flowers, clouds, sky, birds, wildlife, and some landscape pictures that I teased with, but never posted. My goal in the next few days, (weeks?), is to get this “current” photo folder clear before it gets cold again, and before the kids go back to school. I haven’t even mentioned my summer slim down plan or what I am doing to achieve my goals for skinniness and less B/P medicine. Big fat nothing, that’s what. I am eating less. It’s only working a little bit. And very slowly. Cardio is the thing. At least that’s what the doctor said. It’s always cardio. Let me stop here and try and figure out the next post. I have to shower and do another load of laundry before I go. I may or may not post overnight. I have to get up early tomorrow to take my girl on her annual summer trip to my sister’s house for a week before school starts. And I desperately need my hair colored. I look old. Yucky gray roots. I miss my hair that used to grow in all the same color. Not fair. Then me and the boy are going to meet the BF for lunch at his work. Don’t we seem busy? Monday funday. Then I have to work all week. All week. Man. And the boy has his last week of football camp. Ok I think that’s enough of the list of things to do from one small woman in the world. If you are still reading, THANK YOU! I wish I had prizes or something, but it’s just this. Beep beep beep beeeep. Blast. That’s the timer. Measuring out my life in minutes. Load change. Shower up. Sprinkler switch. STOP. TYPING. !! Gotta go. Later.
This Is Not The Way.
Sorry Doc. I guess I will have to start that diet next week. I haven’t had those delicious breakfast burritos in soooo long. With that spicy good Hot Picante sauce that the McDonald’s Corporation is being super stingy about handing out with their breakfast foods. Signs everywhere restricting the “sauces per order per item”. It’s so stupid. And even when you ask for more packets, AND are willing to pay for the extra sauces, they act like it’s a huge inconvenience, or that you are committing a crime against the purity of their food preparation. Where are these sauce packets that it takes so long, and three different people, to get? Are they stashed away in a secured vault with a time lock or some kind of multiple employee fingerprint/eyeball unlocking mechanism? Seriously they aren’t that good. This is the truth: Sometimes, even when I really really want McDonald’s, or the kids do, I’ll just skip it because I know what a pain in the ass it will be to get what I actually want. Plus the two stores closest to my house are terrible with service, speed, and getting the orders right. Even with the nuggets, the sauce is wrong or missing altogether, more times than not. Doesn’t McDonald’s have enough money without over doing the sauce thing? Its a sauce conspiracy! But I don’t want to have a whole post complaining. I mean, I did get it today. Spent my money. And ate all of it. And tonight the Charmin Corporation will be thanking me for using lots of their fine product. Gross Point Ending. Play on words. Later.
Well It Sure Feels Like A Brand New Start
I know it’s not February first yet, but according to the air temperature it’s like a whole new season. We need to come up with some kind of phrase to identify this trend in unusual, possibly alarming, weather system changes. I can do 50 degrees all “winter”. I’ll even take the occasional one day snow storm followed by three days of melt. However my little daffodil buds are getting confused. Here’s a picture of them looking sad and sort of green-yellow in the grey and dirty dirt. The ground is not ready for them to sprout yet, but the heat says, “Come on up! The air is fine!” But it’s not.
I shall monitor their early progress for you. Via words and more pictures. Although be prepared for this site to take another sucky turn. As you know, I pride myself on posting just about every day with brilliant and insightful, meaningful, inspiring words and positive vibes and energy to you and the world abroad. Uh. huh. Well, I post every few days. And it’s almost always positive. That won’t change. The new issue is that I may actually have something else that I will need to be doing, full time, and for a good amount of money. Hint hint. Cough cough. Ahem. If I ain’t being too subtle here. Something worthy enough to give up my day job as resident blobber, blogger, desperately searching for an outside gig. I will let you know by the end of the week if I can finally change my Facebook status to: Works. Period. Anyway, February is always my lucky month for work related stuff. That’s when I got my last job too. It’s weird when stuff happens like that isn’t it?
I’m about to go get some food with the family and have a margarita. Just one. And it will be small. Well, smaller. We have an awesome place very close by. And I checked my med info. Moderate alcohol is ok. One drink every week or two will probably be just fine. And FYI, in case you were wondering, I have my next doc appt. this week to check on those meds, and even though it seems unlikely, I really think I feel better. Like, not sick feeling. Clear headed and without any throbbing or eye and temple pain. Maybe that BP was killing me. Sometimes drinking the kool-aid isn’t always a death sentence. Hard lesson to learn. In just a few days, I have tried to overhaul my sodium intake and step up the exercise regimen. We, me, everything, that you eat for convenience or that comes in a processed package is LOADED with mg’s and mg’s of that sneaky sodium. I spent my last few days buying some snazzy new jeans and t-shirts to transition myself slim again. Thanks to the new spandex and technologically advanced textile manufacturing, my jean size didn’t change! And no one will ever see the tags that say “high stretch fabric” or “extreme tensile strength materials”. Those labels are on a big old garbage truck heading for the dump. And I purposely shopped for colorful fruits and vegetables today. I think I shall be more boring to hang out with, but, I shall be hanging out a lot longer. Alright, one more picture because I like to take pictures of the skeleton trees. Later.
What’s that old saying? Feed a fever and starve a fat cell?
So hungry!! Why is food so tasty?? FYI, I am not eating that right now. That was last week. When I was unhealthy. Remember? I talked about finding the giant chip? Well, that’s it. I put it next to the remote for perspective. And that’s the 16 oz. dip container. Which I threw out yesterday because it does not need to be in the house anymore. I am trying to be good. So far, I am averaging out to about 1500-2000 cals a day. Which I also already said, but thought I would say again so I can lead into the whole starving myself thing. In the days leading up to my big interview (No call at all today. Is that Friday the 13th good luck or bad luck? We’ll never know) I tried to drink buckets of water and eat minimal food quantities. Well that plan backfired on Wednesday because I felt sick as a dog when I finally did eat. I was so hungry that as soon as I started eating some food my stomach cramped and I thought I was going to throw up. Plus I had a raging, pounding, piercing headache because I drank coffee in the afternoon like a dumb ass. I have been trying to limit my coffee drinking to about noon. I have been getting heartburn and headaches if I try and drink it all through the day like I used to. At one point I was even drinking it on the ride home from work at 5 and 6 at night. That’s crazy right? Anyway, I notice it more now, especially if I stop for awhile in the morning, like to exercise or shower, or drink more water and eat. If I try to have coffee on an empty exercised and watered stomach in the afternoon, I feel like someone is trying to stab me in the head with a knife. That’s probably NOT a good thing. So that’s one more thing to add to the “old” list.
Anyway, that’s it really. Just wanted to talk about the correlation between food and exercise. Definitely works better and delivers more results if you do both. Eat the healthy way. And in evenly spaced increments. No starvation tactics. And exercise every day. 30 minutes plus, if you can. I also needed an excuse to post these potato chip pictures. The other one is below. The giant potato chip is sitting over the top of the dip container! We are the party people. Dinner is on the way so I gotta go, but keep reading if you haven’t today and find a related post below that! Eating less+ exercise = Bones! Later!
Ham String Curls!
That headline is only going to be funny to one person, but I don’t care. I had a novel idea today to work out BEFORE I posted anything. The weather is supposed to be nice a again, and so far it is. Paul Konrad spoke of 50’s and warmer temps and clear skies. But it still feels cold to me. Plus I have a volleyball game to go to for Stevie. Second one. The first was Monday. It was very exciting and the matches were close, usually a point or two, but they ended up losing. I thought they did pretty good for only having 4 practices. And those were over Christmas Break. I’ll put pics up if the girl lets me. Anyway, I won’t have time later to work out and I don’t trust the weather to wait for a few more hours. Plus I wanted something fast and complete. So I went to my old standby: The Firm. 45 minutes of pure elevated heart rate and sweat. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t eat or because my heart hasn’t worked that hard trying to move me around in weeks, but I felt slightly sick in the middle and for a minute there, thought for sure I was going to throw up. My stomach flipped and all I could hear was my heart beating in my head but I just stood there lifting my stupid dumbbells until it passed. So you know this tape has got to be good right??
That picture above really has nothing to do with my workout besides the ham string curl, curled horns, thing. It’s a stretch I know. Anyway, I like doing the Firm workouts because they combine cardio and weights and they make me sweat because I am out of shape. Rebekah is the ring leader. She’s cute and so evil with her friendly, constant chatter about what we are about to do next. Ham String Curls is one of the things she says that gets into my nightmares while I sleep. She says it all sing-songy and I am lured into the abyss. You can see her devil eyes about halfway through the workout. She’s looking up at the camera and I feel her thoughts enter into my brain, “C’mon you fat ass, kick it higher, lift that heavier weight, burn burn burn!” I may just be hallucinating that last part though. I am working my way back into the P90X sets. I was doing them every day last year, but I totally fell off the wagon and rolled into the street, down a hill, across a stream and then down another hill until I landed in a giant hole of marshmallow middles, blubber butts and shame.
But I’m back. Three days in a row! It’s a new year record! It’s all part of the master plan: Run. Walk. Weights. And add some push ups. (The tape gives you some ab moves–not too crazy. You can always add more if you like) One of the new sites that I am following, linked over to the right there, or click on the name, called WhatUp Chickenbutt just did a post on girl vs. regular push-ups. She said skip the girl ones all together and go for the man ones. Do them every day and see what happens. Well I will tell you, I did lots of girl push ups when I started P90 because I could not do even ONE real pushup. By the time I quit the P90, I could 10 regular ones. Took about 40 days for me personally to get there. I tried one today….and I’d generously give myself about one HALF of a real push up. I went down. Skimmed the ground with my gut. Froze there shaking and tried to push myself back up. I would say I was on the ground longer than the up and down motion. Then I tried it again after my Firm workout and I’d say I improved to about a Three Quarter pushup. I felt more confident though! But I still couldn’t do one. It’s a good idea though and I like a challenge. Do what is right for you! It’s no fun to fail right out of the gate. Besides, the girl ones are not all bad because they do allow you to build up some arm strength using half your weight until you can finally hoist your whole body up and down. So work up to whatever you can handle. Obviously I am one of those people that has to work out every day or I will not work out at all. One slip and I’m doomed to the couch. Anyhoo, the Firm is a good way to ease back into the hell of P90. The Firm box says you can see results in 10 workouts. I will let you know about that. It’s probably true. In fact I know it is because I used it last year too. It’s a nice break from the P90 intensity and it feels like you can dance. Rebekah does those old aerobic moves you used to see all the time. Things like plyo’s, switchups, wraps, it was all very confusing at first but I got it now. It makes me feel like I know what I’m doing and I enjoy seeing myself mirroring what the girls are doing on screen. I just can’t finish the whole thing yet. So close, but no cigar. I recommend this particular one because you get a good combo of cardio/weights that will make you sweat and feel good but won’t discourage you from trying it again if you can’t do everything all the way through. I put the pic below.
These pictures always turn out so gigantic. Well, I have lots more to write about, and I need to get some food. I’ve been good so far, keeping the cals at about 1500 to 2000. That seems like a lot but it’s not for me considering how much I was eating just a few days ago. And I’m trying to keep it as low-everything bad as possible, but this is the part that takes the most work. Jumping around like a wounded animal gasping and clawing the air for breath is easy. Shopping and cooking healthy for yourself and your family, under the whining protest that it’s “gonna be gross” and fighting against the constant, gnawing hunger for a few days (or weeks depending on how far gone you really are) is hard. Here’s to coffee and breath mints! My meal of choice for the newly turned fanatic. I’m just kidding. That’s my diet every day. Later.
Denial Ain’t Just a River in Egypt
I will let you decide which noble and majestic, wild beast I will be currently comparing myself to. I’ll give you a hint: It’s not Marty. (That was a layered hint. See, you have to know first of all, that that is a pic of an elephant and a zebra. Then you need to know about the very funny, but child-oriented, movie called Madagascar–the first one–which means you either: have to have kids, have no kids but love cartoon movies, or either have kids or not have kids but LOVE Chris Rock. “Oh I could hang here. I could hang here!” That’s my favorite quote and I have been perfecting my perfect Chris Rock impersonation. It is magnificent!) Much like that elephant above.
I do have a fantastic memory. And I am strong and powerful. And coincidentally, I kind of have a big nose. Luckily, my teeth are good and no tusks are growing out of my head just yet. Unfortunately…I am in current possession of a larger-than-life body to lumber around in. I can deny it no more.
The catalyst for this sudden realization, was clothes shopping at the mall over the weekend, as it most always usually is. It was not, as previously reported here, my mother’s gentle and loving, reality wake-up call, that she gave me a few weeks ago. You can read the whole post here if you want, but if you don’t like to jump around, I can sum it up by telling you she pretty much told me I was a big fat, fatty-bo-batty, in plain, clear English and said I should do something about that. Even though that doesn’t sound funny, it was actually VERY funny. In fact, it still is pretty funny. It makes me laugh just typing it. Only a mom can tell you that you are a cow and it only stings for a second, then it turns into hilarious laughter and a trip to the Starbuck’s to add another winter layer to the protective hide. But back to the mall.
A while back I went to buy some “interview” clothes. And I had the chance to wear them to a job fair and to Thanksgiving dinner. Then my daughter helped me wash the clothes and shrunk my perfectly fitted blouse into a shirt that I could barely get over my arms and shoulders, much less button again. When I say, perfectly fitted, I mean that it was already snug. EXCUSE ALERT!! I have very broad shoulders and a large ribcage with extra boobage, that none of my sisters or mom have. So that’s what I tell myself when I can’t find a nice button up blouse to fit me properly. No matter, that when I look at past pictures, I don’t seem extra large (in women’s clothes–yes, shameful secret, I have to shop in the misses or the women’s section. The juniors are mostly beyond my range and style threshold now. Also, I like my pants unripped and not looking like they got dragged through a dirt pile before I wear them.) Anyway, the point here, is that I was looking for something to wear in case I need to go on an interview. I kind of decided to look on a whim. We were there because my son wanted a suit coat and shirt and tie to wear for his 8th grade graduation pictures this week. (Yay!! Almost there!! He found everything he wanted in 15 minutes. Fits perfectly. Looks sharp. Not so for his mom. Sad face.) I know I know. Just get to the point.
As I was wandering around from store to store, department to department, trying to find a basic blouse to go with plain black dress slacks, I realized that:
1. I felt like a giant dumptruck. I was grossly dressed in ill-fitting jeans screaming for mercy, ripped up shoes and a hoodie, with frizzy hair (sorry A, I know that hurts, it will get better), little make-up and a bad attitude. My own fault. Plus that dread cycle coming up has put me in pity mode for a few days. I hate it, but at least realizing it helps make it go away for me.
2. Patterns are the staple in women’s clothing and they can not only be ugly as hell, but they have the ability to make you instantly feel like an old lady with one bad color scheme.
3. My son and BF are hilarious. They meant to be funny with their comments about the clothes and my size issue. I was gently told I should consider something “not so fitted” especially if the buttons will be straining to stay buttoned. Even when I am standing. OUCH. What??? I have not been totally in the dark about this, but you know, bloating and not drinking enough water, and blah blah blah. My daughter’s new favorite phrase is, “You just got hit by a reality truck!” Well, I got hit by the truck, run over, and then it backed up and ran over me again. It was really the, “Are we going to have to go to Lane Bryant?” comment that pushed me out into traffic. It was said in a totally joking manner with no sarcasm or malevolence at all. But that one stung. Like, I almost cried, stung. And I have a pretty thick skin, like an elephant, metaphorically speaking. Sometimes it completely sucks to be female. For the record, I do still fit in the regular store sizes, I even have a two to three size leeway before I have to give up the general department store or move to the Plus size section. I tried the clothes on, so I know. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with Lane Bryant stores or clothing. It’s just the next level of dressing nice for the bigger girl and NOT resorting to stretchy pants and sweatshirts. Which IS terrible. But that’s not going to happen.
4. My daughter is hilarious and dashed around the clothing racks looking for the perfect blouse because, “It’s not a big deal mom, just start exercising and eating better and it will be fine. You know you can do that.” and just like that, on and on, while she picked stuff out, matched things up and made me try them on while she determined which is the best. All while trying to cheer me up and soothe my hurt feelings with humor and the promise that after we shop we can go eat our last meal of fried greasy food because fried food always makes you feel better. My little Buddha.
I will say, for myself, personally, or for anyone who has the variety pack of kids, and this is most definitely a MUSH ALERT (skip it if you must): I feel extremely lucky to have a boy and a girl to raise and be raised by. They each bring their own unique personalities, and, still being formed, world views to the table along with some staggeringly stereotypical behaviors and ideas, that I can only attribute to their basic gender and gene pool that combine to make them the perfect balance between never wanting them to grow up and leave my sight and life or sending them packing to their dad’s for a long vacation. The definitely keep you grounded and aware of the world even when you don’t want to be. And most of the time they don’t even know they are doing it to you. Yes, I would like to order two of the offspring reality trucks to be delivered to the mall on Sunday. Schedule a drive-by and then a basic run-and-back-over, for about 2 pm. I’ll also take a Diet Coke while I wait. Thank you!
In the end, I bought a few different blouses. I need to dress better anyway. I look like a…well, I don’t know what I look like. I have no style whatsoever. I have been counting on the fact that the whole rest of my life will be in a scrub uniform so who cares. My daughter says I am just a real basic mom. I stay the same. “You’re just the standard jeans and black t-shirt mom. The simple mom. With the same clothes every day and the black shoes.” She struggles with the words but she means it in the most positive way. And since I’m so evenly proportioned, body wise, symmetrical, is what she means. I don’t really get fat in any one area, I just kind of “puff up”.
Now, tell me, who would NOT like to be described as “puffed up”? To make a long story, even longer, I faced my fear. Woke up yesterday, sent the kids to school, did my usual coffee/Words/computer/job search/money search/throw in a load of laundry morning and then suited up to hit the trail for a brisk four mile walk/run. Break the barrier. Start the exercise process again. Ease back into good health and healthy eating. Again. But, before I left the house, I took pictures. Horrible, shameful, lumpy pictures. So bad, I already warned my children to stay off my phone and not to be looking at all my pictures lest they be scarred for life. Nothing naked. It’s clear enough, without the nudity, that I need help. I mean, if we are facing our fears the proper body image is necessary. I have a distorted view of myself as my BF will gladly tell you is true. It’s not what you are thinking though. I see myself as far BETTER looking and THINNER than I actually am. Weird right? I always think I am smaller and weigh less than I actually do. AND, I am always very surprised when I see myself in a picture or in a mirror because that is not how I view myself in my own head. I don’t think I look like a model or anything. I know I don’t. I just over estimate my looks and body size. Probably my sense of humor and skill at writing too, but that never stops me from typing word after endless word. Let me just pause here, to say thank you, if you are still reading this, because with my attention span, I am not so sure I would still be reading me. And also, I hope there are not too many errors, because I really doubt I will go back and check it. Also, I am getting nervous this is taking so long because I have to walk to the library today as my exercise. Briskly, walk to the library. Change it up. Stay fresh. So I don’t quit on the second day.
Back to the post: I did good yesterday. One hour for four miles. Not groundbreaking. Not record setting. But it was outside (45 degrees—50-55 today! Unbelievable) and I did sweat. Then I came home and did something even crazier. Even more dangerous and fear inducing. I weighed myself. On a scale. An actual scale, with numbers, that tell your weight in pounds. I usually judge my weight by the jeans I can fit into. I have the 8-10-11 multi-pack of jean sizes. Different company’s but surprisingly accurate in helping me gauge my weight to within a few pounds. The only problem with my system is that I only have 5 pairs of jeans total to wear and weigh by. Four now. I lost the 10’s in the thigh rub incident of a few days ago (a tragedy I transcribed here some days ago, in far more words than necessary, as is my custom). It’s really a complicated system and sounds kind of confusing when you say it out loud, but the 10’s were the fat jeans. Pushing the highest weight I could go basically while staying UNDER 200 pounds. That is very important as that is the magic number for me. I have never, and will never (hopefully) see that number on a scale. Even pregnant I never hit it. And I tried. Long story…my boy decided to come three weeks early and spoiled my gain plan. Anyway, the 11’s are stretchy. Spandex is a wonder material. So even though the size is technically larger, my butt needs to be smaller to fit in them. But one of the 11’s is stretchier than the other. So it’s a matter of how stretchy do I want them and how comfortable will they be for the whole day? That’s the middle weight. The 8’s are the smallest. Again supposedly with Spandex, but one pair is decidedly stretchier than the other, by far. One pair I feel perfect in.
The other pair though, gives me, what I like to call: The JMT’s. That would stand for Jumbo Muffin Tops. Or “Juffins” as me and Stevie like to cackle about. One day, recently, the muffin tops were really spilling over and we were laughing about how they jiggle when I laugh and get worse when I sit and how I need a tighter buffer shirt to wear under my real shirt to try and skim them over, like frosting on a messed up, cracked and crumbly lumpy cake. I said, ” I don’t just have muffin tops, I have jumbo muffin tops. I have Juffins!” and we laughed hysterically. I am sure I am not the first or only person to have come up with that, but I’m taking credit in my world because I never heard it before and I said it and my daughter and son were there when I did. So that makes it official!
Got all that? Here’s the key to the whole thing. The weight was not as bad as I thought. And even if it was, who cares. I was ready to cry and curse all the delicious food in the world and my lack of willpower and laziness anyway. I still will. Probably forever. Nobody can be good ALL the time. Nobody. The point is I am aware. It is reality. It is not nice or pleasant but it’s OK. I will not reveal the number. It’s too much. But I will say that it is less than my top preggy weight and that is a miracle in itself I will not take for granted. And in the spirit of almost-full discretion, I weighed after the exercise and butt ass naked. Not pretty but I needed any help I could get for this. On the other hand, I am pre-menstrual though and I am a gainer beforehand. I have gone as high as five or six extra pounds. Which I always thought was such a croc and makes no difference, but when you are only 5 foot 5 on a good day, standing rimrod straight and you are over 40, it makes a whole hell of a lot of difference. Obviously I have enough sense of self to not let things go crazy crazy and it also means my jean theory works pretty good. But I need to go buy smaller jeans if I want to keep this up. I read in a magazine that the French ladies tie a ribbon around their waist before they eat and when it gets tighter they stop. Same concept with my jean system. That waist band can only dig into your belly flab for so long and for only so far before it becomes painful and medically dangerous and you must stop. I could bust a spleen sometimes, I wear them so tight.
Alright. For real now. I have to end this. I have stuff to do and miles to walk. My legs is sore! And the temp is up to almost 50 degrees! And it’s sunny! I must go outside! I must stop using so many exclamation points! Thanks for making it all the way to the end! You all get 100 bonus calories to use as you please! Have a great afternoon and I’ll chat back here later with the rest of the stuff I had planned. See you on the sidewalk.
I should be ashamed of us
We “snack” like a bunch of cheap drunks at an all-you-can-eat-free-buffet-happy-hour for scroungy ass hobo’s in the sketchiest part of town. It’s ridiculous our diet. And no great mystery why we are all a little thick in the middle. Chili, with cheese AND sour cream (two heart attacks for the price of one). Chips AND dip. Sushi (what??). From Target. (double what??). Pigs in a blanket (me). Halloweenies (my daughter). Cocktail weenies in a biscuit (fact). 911! Whatever you call them they still equal chest pain in the middle of the night. It’s atrocious. And after I leave for school, the kids will probably eat a frozen pizza for “dinner”. And I will eat my pre-packed baggies of trail mix and coffee in my Soc. class while praying I don’t die of a coronary on the car ride home. That is, if I don’t pass out in the stairwell first just trying to get to class. Can everyone say huff and puhhh…Eh. Forget it. Apples and water all day tomorrow. Cleanse and flush. We’ll cure it with overkill. Sleep sweet. And upright. Night night.
Are you sick of looking at that gaudy duck too?!?
Our weather has taken a turn for the better these last few days. It’s our last blitz before the horrible cold and (according to the weather predictors) record breaking freezes and snow inches. Yay. The only good thing about the snap in temperature is that it ends any allergic sneezing and runny eyes and noses. Annoying. The cold sucks though. I don’t know why I stay here where it’s all “seasonal”. Oh wait. I know why. Family. No job. Can’t sell the house. Can’t buy a new one. Etcetera.
Anyhow this nice weather really causes me to procrastinate on the schoolwork. But it does inspire me to get off my fat butt and exercise. Which I desperately need. How long can I keep pushing the 40+ envelope before I get some medical problem that I will actually have to go to a doctor for?? Let me tell you, you creeping, increasing, scary pounds on the scale…not much longer. After my initial health kick earlier this autumn where I shed a pants-applicable 5 pounds. I have managed to hold steady without a lot of effort. That means little to no exercise but no eating either. I’m squeezing the clothes on, but it is not pretty. There are lumps and bumps where there should be none.
So here I am again. Finding myself having to go run and eat healthy. If only I could keep it up for longer than a week or a jean size. Now, at least, I have the added inspiration of trying to outrun my daughter. Since she started cross country (it’s over now—but she did really good) I tried to help her with practice runs, but I am far too slow. These damn kids are fast. And they make it look pretty easy. I was practically having a seizure on the trail. I was counting down in my head by hundreths of a quarter mile just to make it two miles without stopping. I felt pathetic, old and out of shape, but there was no one around to hear me count and watch me dry heave and it did give me something else to think about besides my collapsing lungs.
And I did finish that two miles. 26 minutes. As usual. Every single time I start “running” again, that’s my go-to time. (Let’s not forget I broke a foot this summer so back off!! It’s a miracle I can run at all!! Let’s go with that excuse ok??) Anyway. It’s only been two days of avoiding crap food. Processed, sodium infused, alcohol infused, fried, etc., and I have to say I think I feel a bit better. I can breathe and my head doesn’t hurt too bad. The key is to drink alot of water. Something I have also been neglecting. I can tell that right away though. Because my eyes get all loopy and I feel dizzy. I also tend to go for the dramatic flair and claim that my throat feels like it is closing and I can’t sleep. I actually went to bed last night feeling hungry. My stomach was protesting the fact that I didn’t stuff it so full of food it could try and trick me into sleeping flat so it could give me massive heartburn and laugh in my ear, “HA HA, you have to sleep sitting in a chair!” Spoiled American.
I have heard of this anti-inflammatory diet (which is very similiar to a blood pressure diet or sodium restricted diet) and I guess that’s the one I will have to settle into. It seems to be credible and addresses quite a few of the problems I have been having as a woman aging in this world. It’s so hard to make the right changes even when you know you should. I give myself until 45. That’s the outer limits of my neglect and disregard. After that I think my ability to skate by like a paunchy middle aged lady will totally catch up to me. And I would hate to wait that long and be forced to change. Fun stuff huh??
I wanted to do more than just this post today. But typing on the computer for hours on end makes me really really REALLY crabby. I’m not sure why. But I am feeling the irritation building. I was able to finish my paper. With 7 hours to spare! And I applied for more jobs today. I think that’s what sets me over the crabby edge. The internet is awesome for job hunting and applying but it can be super tedious and repetitive at the same time. Now I am here. Getting ready for school tonight and trying to post something worth reading.
I’ll do some lighter, fun stuff later. No need to keep it so serious. Here’s a picture I took of Stevie’s cross country conference race. These are the 7th grade girls lined up and ready for the whistle. I like the way it looks. Kind of fishbowled out with the coaches behind them. It looks like something exciting is about to happen. These kids are awesome! Track is in the spring so we need to get training! It gives us something to look forward to during the long winter and a goal to shoot for. Skinny and fast. Fall back. Spring forward. All right.
So, kids have a way of getting right to the heart of the thing
My lovely daughter just told me that she saw the, “younger, skinnier, more beautiful version of me” on the beach in Michigan. She was wearing a black bathing suit and had clear skin and the skinny body with the same kind of black hair that I had, when I used to get my hair colored black. My daughter said she saw this woman, and was so surprised because it looked so much like me, that she just stared at her until the woman started looking back at her like she might be crazy.
So I guess that’s nice. (?).
However…since I was eating at the time of this news flash, and I caught a completely unintentional glimpse into my fattiness, I proceeded to go ahead and finish all the crap in the house that I like (that would be White Castle’s, Kettle Cooked Potato Chips and Oreo’s–luckily there was only a little of each). And now I will finish the bottle of wine I opened 2 days ago. Because tomorrow, in addition to my RUN (National Running Day! Click it or check the next post and get in on the fun!), I have to re-boot my dietary intake. And by re-boot, I mean drink only water and starve myself for 3 weeks or so. I have 18 days to become the younger, skinnier, more beautiful version of myself!
That’s healthy right?
I’m not really going to starve myself. That would actually be impossible. I really like food. And I get really hungry and pretty crabby when I’m trying to be “good”. So I’ll just make better choices in the next 18 days. (I picked 18 because of the Warrior Dash. It’s in 18 days so I’m going to use that). It’s a short, attainable amount of time. And if I want to eat a bunch of crap I can do it after the race!
First side note: I also want to clarify, that even though I suggested that my daughter was calling me fat by using some kind of psychologic, mind-bend to passively indicate beauty is equated with thinness and youth, she DID NOT intentionally mean to make me feel bad. She was just telling a funny story and I added all the rest! She even said, “I guess that lady couldn’t have been more beautiful than you, because she looked just like you.” And that’s a direct quote.
Healthy. Unhealthy. Exercise. Sloth. Water. Alcohol. This site is all over the place. I can’t decide to be good or bad. Everything in moderation and add some activity! That’s probably good enough.
**On a second, side note: I had to have lost a few pounds today just from pure sweat and suffering. That rainstorm never did pan out for us and it’s been sweltering here all day. It’s good and hot in the house now. Everyone looks droopy, like water starved weeds. Still not turning it on though. That’s probably going to be a fight later when the BF gets home. Hopefully once he gets going on the topic, the heat will press down on him, crushing his urge to argue and squashing his ability to fight back. He will collapse in a heap of wilty protestation, and me and the kids can drag him to the bedroom and let him sleep it off. It’s always cooler at about 3 am so I don’t know what everyone is complaining about! All that whining about winter and how cold it is…blah blah blah…well, it’s HOT now!! Enjoy!
Alright I better go. I have to call in a take out order for dinner. So healthy!
just shy of pretty 