So I didn't workout this morning. Last night, after working all day at school and then heading over to Huntington in Coon Rapids for four hours, and stopping at the townhouse to feed the cats, I finally made it home at 9pm. I was dead on my feet. Plus, my ass muscles are so tight from all the squats and cycling and never-enough-stretching-yes-I-know-I-should-stretch-more-thank-you, that I easily rationalized sleeping in a little and skipping Wednesday spinning. Grim will probably throw a party.
You can see what kind mental state I was in. I still was dead when I woke up and it was easy to rationalize in my pleasure centered brain that I deserved a large Caribou Mint Condition with an extra shot of espresso and an everything bagel with onion and chive cream cheese from Bruggers for breakfast. I mean, not that I have to defend myself, but I didn't eat dinner last night and I am going to have cereal for lunch, so it's totally fine to splurge a little, right? Right. (Mom and Dad don't you dare say anything about this when I get home.)
So I order my coffee and I head over to the connected bagel place and order my bagel. The shop is filled with very fancy, shiny people (one guy was driving an Audi convertible and made a loud squeaking noise when he got out of his car and stepped ankle deep into a puddle. It was pretty funny). I'm waiting by the register for my bagel with three Martha Stewart look-alikes and two Tom Brokaws- all of whom are sort of snarling at me. The group are all looking me up and down because we are playing that fun suburban game called "Which-one-of-these-is-not-like-the-other-Which-one-of-these-does-not-belong?" And I totally stick out with my beat up Tevas and wet hair. Plus I'm fat and there aren't that many fat people in Perfectville. At least that I have seen. Maybe they keep them locked up. Or maybe I haven't discovered the fat part of Perfectville yet. I console myself with the fact that I totally could take them all, even if I just sit on them.
The girl comes over brandishing my bagel- and I can tell its my bagel because she is making eye contact with me. Now, this girl doesn't like me, and didn't like me when she took my order. Don't ask me how I could tell, I just could. And I can see in her eyes what she is about to do, and I am silently begging her with my now large puppy dog eyes, please-don't-do-it-please-don't-do-it...
and she yells, as loud as she can so that people in both Caribou and Bruggers can hear her, "EVERYTHING FAT FATTY BAGEL WITH EXTRA FAT FATTY REGULAR ONION AND CHIVE CREAM CHEESE FOR THE FAT GIRL". Everyone turns to stare at me because there is, of course, no one else in the entire world who would order something so disguesting. I hang my head and step forward, extending my hand. She holds the bagel with two fingers like it contains kryptonite, and drops it in my outstretched hand. One of the Martha gasps, she must have never seen anything so horrific before. Then the girl turns to Martha and says sweetly, "Fat free plain bagel without carbs with fat-free-carbless-tasteless-calorieless-cream cheese for someone who knows how to take care of themself". Martha takes it and turns to go. We lock eyes. I can't take it anymore.
I stick out my tongue at her. And leave.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Is it only Tuesday?
So today in Body Pump (lifting weights to music), sweat butt boy was behind me. This didn't bother me as much as the fact that he could not look me in the face and left-to-get-a-drink-from-the-drinking-fountain-every-time-I-came-anywhere-near-him-to-get-weights-or-try-to-make-eye-contact-with-him. I mean, geez, I wasn't going to get to close to him, I just wanted to make eye contact and point to my black pants, reassuring him that he won't have to see my sweaty butt again. Alas, I heard him asking for the St. Paul Y schedule at the desk- I don't think I'm ever going to see him again. Luckily, my black stretch pants held up under the strain of my behind- no sweat or holes, only white hair from my dog and some fuzz balls from the wash. I'm such a classy lady.
Body Pump was full today, but most of the ladies head home after class or hit the elliptical for their four-hour-high-intensity-workout-to-the-morning-talk-shows. Usually, the shower is not a problem. But as I meandered into the locker room I was hit with a wall of steam from the shower. No, I thought to myself. No. No. No. I walked toward the showers- and they were all full. &*%$! DON'T THEY KNOW THAT I AM BACK!!! I walked to my locker and grabbed my stuff, hoping that one of the ladies would be clearing out in the next ten seconds. As I walked toward the showers, something caught my eye. I turned. It was HER (you know, that woman who lives at the gym and does every machine and weighs eighty pounds and has perfect children named Jackson and Emmery). She had her towel, shampoo, etc. She locked eyes with me at twenty paces and stopped dead in her tracks. I turned fully towards her and straightened my back, making myself taller. There was going to be a throw down- Perfectville style. "Did I see that all the showers are full?" She spat. I nodded. She scowled. I scowled. A crowd of naked perfectville moms started to gather around us whispering "Is your money on the fat one or the one that looks like a ferret?". Someone in the back started to chant "Fight, Fight, Fight...". I dropped my stuff to free my hands, never breaking eye contact. She dropped her stuff and stepped towards me. I started to snarl picturing the fight scenes from Eclipse in my head (I heart you Jacob...) and then
all three showers shut off at the same time. We both looked towards the showers and then towards each other. She shrugged and bent down to pick up her stuff. I picked up my stuff. She graciously let me get into the first shower- so I didn't have to punch her in the head.
My shower was awesome. And long.
Workout: BodyPump 60 minutes
Food:
Frosted Mini Wheat's with Skim Milk
Carrots with Hummus
Leftover Pizza
Apple with natural PB
Dinner?
Body Pump was full today, but most of the ladies head home after class or hit the elliptical for their four-hour-high-intensity-workout-to-the-morning-talk-shows. Usually, the shower is not a problem. But as I meandered into the locker room I was hit with a wall of steam from the shower. No, I thought to myself. No. No. No. I walked toward the showers- and they were all full. &*%$! DON'T THEY KNOW THAT I AM BACK!!! I walked to my locker and grabbed my stuff, hoping that one of the ladies would be clearing out in the next ten seconds. As I walked toward the showers, something caught my eye. I turned. It was HER (you know, that woman who lives at the gym and does every machine and weighs eighty pounds and has perfect children named Jackson and Emmery). She had her towel, shampoo, etc. She locked eyes with me at twenty paces and stopped dead in her tracks. I turned fully towards her and straightened my back, making myself taller. There was going to be a throw down- Perfectville style. "Did I see that all the showers are full?" She spat. I nodded. She scowled. I scowled. A crowd of naked perfectville moms started to gather around us whispering "Is your money on the fat one or the one that looks like a ferret?". Someone in the back started to chant "Fight, Fight, Fight...". I dropped my stuff to free my hands, never breaking eye contact. She dropped her stuff and stepped towards me. I started to snarl picturing the fight scenes from Eclipse in my head (I heart you Jacob...) and then
all three showers shut off at the same time. We both looked towards the showers and then towards each other. She shrugged and bent down to pick up her stuff. I picked up my stuff. She graciously let me get into the first shower- so I didn't have to punch her in the head.
My shower was awesome. And long.
Workout: BodyPump 60 minutes
Food:
Frosted Mini Wheat's with Skim Milk
Carrots with Hummus
Leftover Pizza
Apple with natural PB
Dinner?
Monday, September 13, 2010
I'm BAAACCCKKKKK!
Well, for those of you dying from suspense, I did not lose or gain any weight this summer. The wedding came and passed and I did not die. Well, I almost died. But here I am, a new school year and the threat of another wedding looming on the horizon and I am still where I was when I started (for the most part- a moderate weight loss, but it might as well be nothing at all).
So I started with spinning this morning. I figured it wouldn't be too bad, and that Grim would go easy on me because, I mean, really, I am pretty fat. So he should either ignore me or take pity on me- those are the fat rules. People either pretend you don't exist or treat you like a sick puppy. But there is one more rule- the rule of HATE. Some (okay, the majority) HATE fat people and treat the like the fat is catching and the fat person should be burned alive in front of a cheering crowd in a football stadium before the big game.
Grim hates me. HATES. I put my bike in the back, in the dark but it is directly across the room from him. Every time he looks up, he sees me. And he seethes. He looked up and yelled, "Faster"...then he looked up and said "COME ON!!!"...and then he said "HHHAAARRRDDEEERRR!!!"...and this was my experience in spinning this morning. Every though my bike is 15 feet away from Grim, I was covered in his spit by the end of class. My ears were ringing from his screaming. My legs don't work. I've had to ask the director at school for the extra wheel chair and I have to give the students a dollar to roll me from class to class.
Also, one reason I love to go to the gym, and keeps me going, is my elaborate fantasy that every man in class has a secret crush on me. I mean, hey, I might not be the most svelte woman in the room (and I'm not even close- all the perfectville soccer moms are hot!hot!hot!) but I am young and funny and I have contact lenses now, so I am totally cuter then I used to be. Anyway, my favorite guy was on a bike next to me this morning. I worked my ass off just so that anytime he looked in the mirror to check his form and "accidentally" checked me out at the same time, I would look like a professional biker (which, no matter how hard I work, I never will). After the biking, we have a little stretching time. I purposely had my back to him, so when I stretched my glutes, he would have a great view. Not to brag, but in my little spandex pants (I won't even tell you how time consuming it is to get those things on) my butt looks pretty awesome. So as I was bending over, I snuck a peek at my guy and he was totally checking out my little toosh. He eyes were wide and he emitted a little startled cough. I knew it was from the shock at seeing such a cute behind and smiled to my self. Score! So after we had put our bikes away, and I had slowly made my way to the locker room (I was hoping that he would ask for my number, but he is probably waiting until it is closer to the weekend), I checked myself out in the locker room mirror. My eyes went wide and I emitted a startled cough. I had ... butt sweat. BUTT SWEAT. Yep, that's right, in my grey stretch pants, was a giant butt sweat mark. It even made its way to the front. I looked like I peed my pants. It was shaped like China and totally dark. There is no way, NO WAY that he could have missed it. Or that anyone else in class missed it, as I chatted with everyone about their weekends. So the lesson here is: he probably will never be asking me for my number, unless he likes sweaty women who look like Russian beet farmers, and I will never, ever wear grey stretch pants to spinning again. EVER.
Monday: Spinning 45 minutes
Food:
Frosted Mini Wheat (low fat and high in fiber- yay!)
Water
Carrots and Hummus
Chili
Apple with natural PB
Pizza with grandma
So I started with spinning this morning. I figured it wouldn't be too bad, and that Grim would go easy on me because, I mean, really, I am pretty fat. So he should either ignore me or take pity on me- those are the fat rules. People either pretend you don't exist or treat you like a sick puppy. But there is one more rule- the rule of HATE. Some (okay, the majority) HATE fat people and treat the like the fat is catching and the fat person should be burned alive in front of a cheering crowd in a football stadium before the big game.
Grim hates me. HATES. I put my bike in the back, in the dark but it is directly across the room from him. Every time he looks up, he sees me. And he seethes. He looked up and yelled, "Faster"...then he looked up and said "COME ON!!!"...and then he said "HHHAAARRRDDEEERRR!!!"...and this was my experience in spinning this morning. Every though my bike is 15 feet away from Grim, I was covered in his spit by the end of class. My ears were ringing from his screaming. My legs don't work. I've had to ask the director at school for the extra wheel chair and I have to give the students a dollar to roll me from class to class.
Also, one reason I love to go to the gym, and keeps me going, is my elaborate fantasy that every man in class has a secret crush on me. I mean, hey, I might not be the most svelte woman in the room (and I'm not even close- all the perfectville soccer moms are hot!hot!hot!) but I am young and funny and I have contact lenses now, so I am totally cuter then I used to be. Anyway, my favorite guy was on a bike next to me this morning. I worked my ass off just so that anytime he looked in the mirror to check his form and "accidentally" checked me out at the same time, I would look like a professional biker (which, no matter how hard I work, I never will). After the biking, we have a little stretching time. I purposely had my back to him, so when I stretched my glutes, he would have a great view. Not to brag, but in my little spandex pants (I won't even tell you how time consuming it is to get those things on) my butt looks pretty awesome. So as I was bending over, I snuck a peek at my guy and he was totally checking out my little toosh. He eyes were wide and he emitted a little startled cough. I knew it was from the shock at seeing such a cute behind and smiled to my self. Score! So after we had put our bikes away, and I had slowly made my way to the locker room (I was hoping that he would ask for my number, but he is probably waiting until it is closer to the weekend), I checked myself out in the locker room mirror. My eyes went wide and I emitted a startled cough. I had ... butt sweat. BUTT SWEAT. Yep, that's right, in my grey stretch pants, was a giant butt sweat mark. It even made its way to the front. I looked like I peed my pants. It was shaped like China and totally dark. There is no way, NO WAY that he could have missed it. Or that anyone else in class missed it, as I chatted with everyone about their weekends. So the lesson here is: he probably will never be asking me for my number, unless he likes sweaty women who look like Russian beet farmers, and I will never, ever wear grey stretch pants to spinning again. EVER.
Monday: Spinning 45 minutes
Food:
Frosted Mini Wheat (low fat and high in fiber- yay!)
Water
Carrots and Hummus
Chili
Apple with natural PB
Pizza with grandma
Monday, April 26, 2010
April 26th- Summer Dreams
I think we did something to make Grim very, very angry. Remember Grim, my spinning instructor? The one who must-have-at-sometime-been-in-the-army-and-now-confuses-soccer-moms-with-soldiers? I usually take a bike in the back, and this morning was no exception. I like the back of the workout room- it's dark, there's a fan, it's away from the mirrors, and most important- no one can see the tiny hole in the butt of my new workout pants showing my flowered Hanes! Anyway, I'm in the back, and I'm thinking to myself throughout the entire class..."His spit projectile is amazing". I mean, I had to wipe off my glasses at least twice!
Not that I'm complaining. I like being yelled at...it makes me feel like I'm doing something right. The tension on my bike was so tight that the tighter-thingy (technical, I know) wouldn't turn any further. It was like biking in mud. Glorious.
The swear was pouring. The lady next to me was crying. Grandpa fell off his bike sometime in the first five minutes, but we left him on the floor until class was over. By 6:15 he wasn't the only one kissing the wood.
I looked Grim in the eye as I was walking out after class...he bared his teeth. I think he likes me.
Exercise: 45 minutes spinning
Food:
Fruit and Veggies
Maybe a crust of bread
I'm on the prison diet
Not that I'm complaining. I like being yelled at...it makes me feel like I'm doing something right. The tension on my bike was so tight that the tighter-thingy (technical, I know) wouldn't turn any further. It was like biking in mud. Glorious.
The swear was pouring. The lady next to me was crying. Grandpa fell off his bike sometime in the first five minutes, but we left him on the floor until class was over. By 6:15 he wasn't the only one kissing the wood.
I looked Grim in the eye as I was walking out after class...he bared his teeth. I think he likes me.
Exercise: 45 minutes spinning
Food:
Fruit and Veggies
Maybe a crust of bread
I'm on the prison diet
Monday, April 5, 2010
April 5th- Women, Food and God
Last week was Spring Break, and for me, a complete break from reality. You know when you go on vacation and you periodically think about all the wonderful ways that you're going to change your life when you get back to the real world...well, that was me last week, especially concerning my diet. Here are some random thoughts that passed though my head during break...
1. I am not going to eat anymore carbs until Meghan's wedding, which, the horror, is in approximately 129 days.
2. I am not going to diet anymore, I love myself too much for that.
3. I am going to only eat cereal until Meghan's wedding, which, the horror, is in approximately 129 days.
4. I will eat sensibly until Meghan's wedding.
5. I will work out for at least two hours a day until Meghan's wedding.
6. I will do the raw foods diet until Meghan's wedding.
7. I am beautiful the way I am.
8. I need to change the way I am.
9. I am so much better than the stupid people who make me feel bad about my weight and appearance.
10. Why is my coping mechanism food? Can I switch that to drugs or alcohol?
11. Speaking of drugs, I heard meth is a fast way to lose some extra baggage. Hmm...
This is a little insight into my head. These thoughts flow through, all of them, all day long. I fluctuate from one extreme to another. And, not to promote Oprah or her magazine, I did read "Women, Food and God" this week and it changed my life...a little. I have to re-read it. But basically, it opened my eyes to my real issues instead of what I thought my issues were. Like, the past is in the past and can't hurt you anymore. And, you don't need to fix yourself- you're whole. Etc., etc., etc. I'm not really into the whole touchy-feely-lets-all-love-each-other-group-hug-stuff, but this book was really good, and I would recommend it to everyone.
Workout: Spinning 45 minutes
Food:
Cereal and milk
coffee with hazelnut creamer
2 clementines
1 banana
lettuce chicken wraps
1 fiber one bar
1. I am not going to eat anymore carbs until Meghan's wedding, which, the horror, is in approximately 129 days.
2. I am not going to diet anymore, I love myself too much for that.
3. I am going to only eat cereal until Meghan's wedding, which, the horror, is in approximately 129 days.
4. I will eat sensibly until Meghan's wedding.
5. I will work out for at least two hours a day until Meghan's wedding.
6. I will do the raw foods diet until Meghan's wedding.
7. I am beautiful the way I am.
8. I need to change the way I am.
9. I am so much better than the stupid people who make me feel bad about my weight and appearance.
10. Why is my coping mechanism food? Can I switch that to drugs or alcohol?
11. Speaking of drugs, I heard meth is a fast way to lose some extra baggage. Hmm...
This is a little insight into my head. These thoughts flow through, all of them, all day long. I fluctuate from one extreme to another. And, not to promote Oprah or her magazine, I did read "Women, Food and God" this week and it changed my life...a little. I have to re-read it. But basically, it opened my eyes to my real issues instead of what I thought my issues were. Like, the past is in the past and can't hurt you anymore. And, you don't need to fix yourself- you're whole. Etc., etc., etc. I'm not really into the whole touchy-feely-lets-all-love-each-other-group-hug-stuff, but this book was really good, and I would recommend it to everyone.
Workout: Spinning 45 minutes
Food:
Cereal and milk
coffee with hazelnut creamer
2 clementines
1 banana
lettuce chicken wraps
1 fiber one bar
Monday, March 22, 2010
March 22- Their Eyes Were Watching God
So, I've hit a plateau. The scale is now my enemy in every way. At night, laying in bed, I fantasize about ordering an air strike on all scales within a 100 mile radius. I imagine the scales as the Viet Cong, and myself as Forrest Gump, shooting scales left and right. The only problem is that I end up getting shot in the bum, laying up in the hospital, and eating ice cream. We all know what happens when I eat ice cream.
That, or ban all pictures of me that have anything but my foot or finger in them.
I add fitness classes- the scale stays the same. I eat less- the scale stays the same. I eat more- the scale stays the same. I don't eat- the scale stays the same. I sit on the couch the day- the scale stays the same. I'm naked- the scale stays the same. I'm wearing a winter jacket- the scale stays the same. I weigh myself with Mufasa- the scale stays the same. I go to a sweat lodge for a week long vacation and almost die- the scale stays the same.
I'm at the point where I am standing and shaking my fists at heaven and say, "WWWWHHHHYYYY????"
But this is the way it is. I can only keep doing what I'm doing, working hard and eating right, and hope that one day I'll get on the scale and have lost eighty pounds.
Workout: Spinning for 45 minutes
Food:
Coffee and ff creamer
Breakfast sandwich (low fat and vegetarian)
Banana and Water
Turkey sandwich with cheese, tortilla chips with salsa, orange
Fiber one bar
Chipolte (grandma's choice- I get it healthy with no cheese or sour cream)
That, or ban all pictures of me that have anything but my foot or finger in them.
I add fitness classes- the scale stays the same. I eat less- the scale stays the same. I eat more- the scale stays the same. I don't eat- the scale stays the same. I sit on the couch the day- the scale stays the same. I'm naked- the scale stays the same. I'm wearing a winter jacket- the scale stays the same. I weigh myself with Mufasa- the scale stays the same. I go to a sweat lodge for a week long vacation and almost die- the scale stays the same.
I'm at the point where I am standing and shaking my fists at heaven and say, "WWWWHHHHYYYY????"
But this is the way it is. I can only keep doing what I'm doing, working hard and eating right, and hope that one day I'll get on the scale and have lost eighty pounds.
Workout: Spinning for 45 minutes
Food:
Coffee and ff creamer
Breakfast sandwich (low fat and vegetarian)
Banana and Water
Turkey sandwich with cheese, tortilla chips with salsa, orange
Fiber one bar
Chipolte (grandma's choice- I get it healthy with no cheese or sour cream)
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
March 17- Happy St. Patty's Day!
In honor of St. Patty's Day, I would like to write an Ode to Potatoes- one of my favorite foods.
Oh, Potato
How do I love thee
Let me count the ways:
Mashed, tatored, mixed with cheese...
why do you have to be such a tease?
Baked and topped with sour cream-
add some chives, what a dream
Deep fried in a vat, dipped in ketchup
Lovin' that.
Dear and shy potato new
thank you for always being true.
I don't know if my Irish ancestors would agree with my poem, I'm pretty sure that eating potatoes everyday might make you hate them. Personally, my favorite potato is baked, topped with tater topping and sitting next to a grilled steak. Yum. Okay, I need to stop talking about food before I eat one of my students while daydreaming about a french silk blizzard or donuts...dooonnnuuutt (Homer Simpson and I have loads in common, like our love for beer, donuts, and drooling, as well as our ability to say completely inappropriate things at the right times)...Speaking of food, total pounds lost is 30. Yay for me.
Workout: Spinning
Food:
Low-fat breakfast sandwich and banana
Water
Turkey sandwich and two clementines
Diet coke
Veggie and black bean burrito, and skim milk
Oh, Potato
How do I love thee
Let me count the ways:
Mashed, tatored, mixed with cheese...
why do you have to be such a tease?
Baked and topped with sour cream-
add some chives, what a dream
Deep fried in a vat, dipped in ketchup
Lovin' that.
Dear and shy potato new
thank you for always being true.
I don't know if my Irish ancestors would agree with my poem, I'm pretty sure that eating potatoes everyday might make you hate them. Personally, my favorite potato is baked, topped with tater topping and sitting next to a grilled steak. Yum. Okay, I need to stop talking about food before I eat one of my students while daydreaming about a french silk blizzard or donuts...dooonnnuuutt (Homer Simpson and I have loads in common, like our love for beer, donuts, and drooling, as well as our ability to say completely inappropriate things at the right times)...Speaking of food, total pounds lost is 30. Yay for me.
Workout: Spinning
Food:
Low-fat breakfast sandwich and banana
Water
Turkey sandwich and two clementines
Diet coke
Veggie and black bean burrito, and skim milk
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