Yeah, I know it's been months since I last posted. It was beyond my control. My computer died back in April so my blogging days came to an abrupt stop. Now my computer is back and better than ever! Wish I could say the same about myself.
Well, I am 30. I am still fat. I'm not as fat as I was in January, but I am not as unfat as I wanted to be by now. I have been getting a lot of compliments lately about how I look. Lots of people asking if I have lost weight and telling me I look like I have "gotten smaller". According to my scale I haven't lost anything, but according to my pants I have. I have dropped another pant size which makes no sense to me. So either my scale is broke or I have magic elf's sneaking in my closet at night and letting out my pants. I'm going with option 1 because quite honestly option 2 creeps me out.
This isn't entirely my fault. Well, actually it is, but not really. Allow me to explain. For months I had been having pain in my left ankle and foot. It started out as a little bit of pain when I ran or sometimes when I walked. I blew it off as me getting old and paid it no attention. It got worse, but I kept pushing myself and making up reasons why it hurt. In my own little world I am a doctor, you see. So I can diagnose any problems or pains I may have. I should sue myself for medical malpractice because I was way wrong. When it got to the point that I was limping all day and couldn't sleep because my foot hurt so bad I got a second opinion from a "real" doctor. Turns out I'm not old. Well, I am, but that's not why my foot hurt. My foot hurt because it was fractured. More than once actually. How or when these fractures occurred I haven't a clue. I do know how they got worse instead of better though! I learned my lesson. If it hurts, go to the doctor.
Due to my fractured foot I had to stop running. Honestly, I was cool with that. I live in the south and it's Summer time. If you don't know what a southern Summer is like, go to the nearest sauna, walk in fully clothed, and tell them to turn that bad boy up to the max. Sounds wonderful, doesn't it! I am still dancing once a week. I just lay off the moves that call for jumping or spinning. There have been a few times when I thought I was cool to dance or run. Those were the times you saw me limping off the stage or calling someone to come get me. Lesson 2: It will not get better if you keep breaking it.
So now I am starting over. My ankle is much better now and I don't have to wear a brace unless I am going to be on my feet a lot. I can't run so I'll walk. When I first started this journey I did it by walking. So for 20 minutes a day I will walk and gradually get back to running. I am trying to work in other exercises that don't involve my feet. I AM down a pant size and almost down another. I am making progress. Going from a size 22 to a size 14 is still a big accomplishment. This is the smallest I have been in almost 10 years. I feel good about that. The journey continues.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
My little runner
I just wanted to take a second to brag on my oldest daughter, Loxley, who will be 11 in a week. She started Girls on the Run this year. GOTR is an awesome organization for girls. It gets them active, teaches them about teamwork and self esteem, and these girls form great friendships with each other. GOTR is the reason I started running.
Today we ran the Run for the Money 5k. It's a local charity event, and this was our first time running in it. It was also my sisters first 5k. I must say she did very well for her first time. She ran the whole 5k! So did Loxley! I was very proud of her. This is the first time she has ran a full 5k without stopping! She has done well this year, and this was her fourth race. She was determined to run the whole race. Every time I asked her if she wanted to stop she would shake her head and keep on going. She stuck with it and crossed the finish line running! She had a goal and pushed herself to achieve it. She gave it her all, and I am very proud of her! I just wanted to have a 'mommy moment' and do a little bragging. We are proud of our girl on the run!
Today we ran the Run for the Money 5k. It's a local charity event, and this was our first time running in it. It was also my sisters first 5k. I must say she did very well for her first time. She ran the whole 5k! So did Loxley! I was very proud of her. This is the first time she has ran a full 5k without stopping! She has done well this year, and this was her fourth race. She was determined to run the whole race. Every time I asked her if she wanted to stop she would shake her head and keep on going. She stuck with it and crossed the finish line running! She had a goal and pushed herself to achieve it. She gave it her all, and I am very proud of her! I just wanted to have a 'mommy moment' and do a little bragging. We are proud of our girl on the run!
Friday, April 15, 2011
My first 10k!
First, let me apologise for waiting so long to update everyone. It's only half my fault. The other half is Mother Nature's fault. She knocked out my Internet for a week, and I forgot my password. So it wasn't because I didn't do the 10k. I did it! First, let me brag on the city of Charleston and the people who put the Cooper River Bridge Run together.
They were expecting 30,000 to 40,000 runners and walkers. Now I have never actually seen what a group of 40,000 people looks like, but I can imagine bringing them into your city in an organized fashion would be a daunting task to say the least. I have been in 5k's that were absolute disasters. Runners not knowing where to go, courses that were poorly marked, parking and traffic disasters, and so on. I would not be surprised to find out that this race was put together by an OCD support group. I have never seen anything more organised in my life. You knew exactly where to go, exactly where to start, and they made standing in the middle of 40,000 people fun. I always had medical personnel in my sight before, during, and after the race. That's good news for a fat chick trying to run. The buses to take us to the bridge (if your hotel was on the other side) were on time and they had plenty. Actually, I never knew that many buses existed. It made my first 10k awesome, and not a panic attack waiting to happen.
All of this made getting up at 4am a little exciting. My husband wasn't all that excited about it, but he thanked me later when we got on the first bus and were able to get to the Dunkin Donuts first for coffee. At 4am it is important to beat 40,000 people to coffee. We had a 3 hour wait till the start of the race. Another good thing about being first? You get to snatch a chair on a restaurant patio instead of standing in the road. So the wait wasn't that bad! The start was another story.
I was shaking when we got to the road to start. We were towards the back so we had to wait. Waiting does not help your nerves. Another reason I was shaking was because I was freezing to death. The wind coming off the water was painful. When I started running I started hurting. My lungs felt like they were going to explode from breathing in that cold air. That's just something I am not used to, and didn't think of when I bought my treadmill so I could run indoors. I had to stop and walk. I was disappointed, but the pain was pretty bad and I didn't want to risk not finishing. I walked a ways to warm up, and when I started running I felt great. Then came obstacle 2. I was mixed in with the walkers. It's hard to keep running when you have a wall of people in front of you walking. I did my best and my husband was great about pushing me. Not literally pushing, encouraging pushing. When I got the the end of the bridge my feet were killing me. I was wearing the world's worst socks and got blisters. I pushed on anyhow, taking little breaks on my feet by walking really fast instead of running. When I crossed the finish line I did it running. No way I was going to turn that corner and let all those people see this fat chick walking down the street. I swear they were moving it away from me, but I caught up to them and crossed it!
I truly did my best. I have no doubt about that. I learned things from this race that will help me prepare better for next year. Now, do you want to know my time? I bet you do. I bet you have been reading this thinking "how long did it take you fatty?" My goal was 'under 2 hours'. Well, with pain and blisters and walkers in my way I still did it in under 2 hours. My time was 1 hour, 37 minutes and 22 seconds! Bam! 10k goal accomplished! I could have done so much better had I thought about the things that slowed me down before the race instead of during, and that makes me proud of myself. So my goal for next year is 1 hour and 15 minutes or less.
What's next for this fat chick? I am doing a 5k this weekend with my oldest daughter and my sister. I am still losing weight. I will update on that soon, but I am getting compliments all the time. I feel great, but I am still having issues sticking to this whole 'exercise' thing. There has to be an easier way. I bet there is an app for that. There is one for everything else. So, the journey continues...
They were expecting 30,000 to 40,000 runners and walkers. Now I have never actually seen what a group of 40,000 people looks like, but I can imagine bringing them into your city in an organized fashion would be a daunting task to say the least. I have been in 5k's that were absolute disasters. Runners not knowing where to go, courses that were poorly marked, parking and traffic disasters, and so on. I would not be surprised to find out that this race was put together by an OCD support group. I have never seen anything more organised in my life. You knew exactly where to go, exactly where to start, and they made standing in the middle of 40,000 people fun. I always had medical personnel in my sight before, during, and after the race. That's good news for a fat chick trying to run. The buses to take us to the bridge (if your hotel was on the other side) were on time and they had plenty. Actually, I never knew that many buses existed. It made my first 10k awesome, and not a panic attack waiting to happen.
All of this made getting up at 4am a little exciting. My husband wasn't all that excited about it, but he thanked me later when we got on the first bus and were able to get to the Dunkin Donuts first for coffee. At 4am it is important to beat 40,000 people to coffee. We had a 3 hour wait till the start of the race. Another good thing about being first? You get to snatch a chair on a restaurant patio instead of standing in the road. So the wait wasn't that bad! The start was another story.
I was shaking when we got to the road to start. We were towards the back so we had to wait. Waiting does not help your nerves. Another reason I was shaking was because I was freezing to death. The wind coming off the water was painful. When I started running I started hurting. My lungs felt like they were going to explode from breathing in that cold air. That's just something I am not used to, and didn't think of when I bought my treadmill so I could run indoors. I had to stop and walk. I was disappointed, but the pain was pretty bad and I didn't want to risk not finishing. I walked a ways to warm up, and when I started running I felt great. Then came obstacle 2. I was mixed in with the walkers. It's hard to keep running when you have a wall of people in front of you walking. I did my best and my husband was great about pushing me. Not literally pushing, encouraging pushing. When I got the the end of the bridge my feet were killing me. I was wearing the world's worst socks and got blisters. I pushed on anyhow, taking little breaks on my feet by walking really fast instead of running. When I crossed the finish line I did it running. No way I was going to turn that corner and let all those people see this fat chick walking down the street. I swear they were moving it away from me, but I caught up to them and crossed it!
I truly did my best. I have no doubt about that. I learned things from this race that will help me prepare better for next year. Now, do you want to know my time? I bet you do. I bet you have been reading this thinking "how long did it take you fatty?" My goal was 'under 2 hours'. Well, with pain and blisters and walkers in my way I still did it in under 2 hours. My time was 1 hour, 37 minutes and 22 seconds! Bam! 10k goal accomplished! I could have done so much better had I thought about the things that slowed me down before the race instead of during, and that makes me proud of myself. So my goal for next year is 1 hour and 15 minutes or less.
What's next for this fat chick? I am doing a 5k this weekend with my oldest daughter and my sister. I am still losing weight. I will update on that soon, but I am getting compliments all the time. I feel great, but I am still having issues sticking to this whole 'exercise' thing. There has to be an easier way. I bet there is an app for that. There is one for everything else. So, the journey continues...
Saturday, March 5, 2011
My Curse
One thing I hear in response to weight loss is "your boobs are the first thing to go". Not just in response to my personal weight loss, but in general. I must say that I was super excited about that. I know, I know, I should be happy about being 'blessed' with an ample bosom, and women pay good money for "boobs like mine". Well, I am willing to pay good money to get rid of mine. Or at least find someone to take pity on me and pay for me to get my boobs down to a single letter cup size. One can only hope...
So I got fitted for a bra today. I was proud of myself when she told me I was a 38. I used to be a 44. That is a huge improvement. So based on that I was expecting the cup size to be smaller too. It only makes sense right? I mean everybody told me "the first thing you lose is your boobs". Imagine my shock when she said "you're an F, but I can probably get you into a DDD". Wha? Excuse me? Did you say F? As in Freaking huge?
I just stood there with my mouth hung open. I was probably drooling a bit. I think I lapsed into a coma from the shock. I snapped out of it right before she tried to shake me. I shuddered and asked her to help me find a bra in that size. I refuse to call it "my" size.
In case you haven't noticed, I really hate having big boobs. I hate buying shirts because no matter what I wear my boobs show. I hate the looks and comments I get from strangers. If I had a dime for every time I was asked "are those real?" I could afford a breast reduction, and a home in Beverly Hills.
I just needed a plain white bra to wear with a white T-shirt. She found several styles for me. By now I was in a state of deep depression. I perked up a bit when she handed me DDDs and not Fs. I decided to make the best of my trip. And what do women do when we are depressed? We shop. And they had a killer sale.
So I got about $200.00 worth of bras for $68.00. Not bad. I figured I would reward myself for getting down to a 38. I haven't had any "pretty" bras in years so I got a couple. There is something about a pretty bra that makes a woman feel good about herself. I have no idea why, but it does. I don't know if the sight of his wife in a pretty bra is going to make my ever so frugal husband not want to choke the life out of me for spending $68.00 on bras (oh, and a super cute pair of earrings and a killer dragonfly ring).
So the good news is I have lost enough weight to get back into a size 38 bra. (My pre-kids bra size was 38) The bad news is about 200 or so people have lied to me about losing my boobs. I am willing to forgive them. If they all got together and chipped in they could get me that breast reduction. It's the least they can do for lying to me.
The journey continues.....
So I got fitted for a bra today. I was proud of myself when she told me I was a 38. I used to be a 44. That is a huge improvement. So based on that I was expecting the cup size to be smaller too. It only makes sense right? I mean everybody told me "the first thing you lose is your boobs". Imagine my shock when she said "you're an F, but I can probably get you into a DDD". Wha? Excuse me? Did you say F? As in Freaking huge?
I just stood there with my mouth hung open. I was probably drooling a bit. I think I lapsed into a coma from the shock. I snapped out of it right before she tried to shake me. I shuddered and asked her to help me find a bra in that size. I refuse to call it "my" size.
In case you haven't noticed, I really hate having big boobs. I hate buying shirts because no matter what I wear my boobs show. I hate the looks and comments I get from strangers. If I had a dime for every time I was asked "are those real?" I could afford a breast reduction, and a home in Beverly Hills.
I just needed a plain white bra to wear with a white T-shirt. She found several styles for me. By now I was in a state of deep depression. I perked up a bit when she handed me DDDs and not Fs. I decided to make the best of my trip. And what do women do when we are depressed? We shop. And they had a killer sale.
So I got about $200.00 worth of bras for $68.00. Not bad. I figured I would reward myself for getting down to a 38. I haven't had any "pretty" bras in years so I got a couple. There is something about a pretty bra that makes a woman feel good about herself. I have no idea why, but it does. I don't know if the sight of his wife in a pretty bra is going to make my ever so frugal husband not want to choke the life out of me for spending $68.00 on bras (oh, and a super cute pair of earrings and a killer dragonfly ring).
So the good news is I have lost enough weight to get back into a size 38 bra. (My pre-kids bra size was 38) The bad news is about 200 or so people have lied to me about losing my boobs. I am willing to forgive them. If they all got together and chipped in they could get me that breast reduction. It's the least they can do for lying to me.
The journey continues.....
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Victory!
Just when I thought I was doing a crap job at losing weight I get good news. I haven't been sticking to my diet. I haven't been getting on the treadmill everyday. I mean, I am keeping an eye on what I eat and I am more active than your average rock, but I wasn't sticking to my plan the way I wanted. That made me feel like crap. But......
I LOST TEN POUNDS!!!
WooHoo!! And it's an official ten pounds because my Dr. told me so. Honestly, I can't tell. My clothes are a tad looser, but other than that I see no change. I have had quite a few people tell me I look like I lost weight, but I figured they were just being nice. Apparently they were telling the truth. How about that.
Downside to all this is it's only ten pounds. If I had been sticking to my original plan there is no telling how much I could have lost. So I am going to try harder. 30 is coming quick. I am running out of time! The journey continues....
I LOST TEN POUNDS!!!
WooHoo!! And it's an official ten pounds because my Dr. told me so. Honestly, I can't tell. My clothes are a tad looser, but other than that I see no change. I have had quite a few people tell me I look like I lost weight, but I figured they were just being nice. Apparently they were telling the truth. How about that.
Downside to all this is it's only ten pounds. If I had been sticking to my original plan there is no telling how much I could have lost. So I am going to try harder. 30 is coming quick. I am running out of time! The journey continues....
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Where did THAT come from?
I made a discovery the other day. A rather, um...uncomfortable one. I thought I would share because it is kinda humorous. It is a rather akward subject though, so to make it interesting I am going to see how many different names I can come up with for my butt. Let's get started!
I was walking through Wal-mart the other day pushing a buggy. My five year old was sitting in the buggy happily chatting away about her life as a kindergardener keeping me distracted. I was looking from side to side as I walked down the isle when a reflection caught my eye. I only got a quick glance so I wasn't sure what it was, and then it hit me. "Man that's a big ole butt!" I thought to myself. Not big in the jiggling like jell-o sense, but big as in the, well, ghetto booty sense. You know, a nice shape, but kinda big. I started to snicker when sheer panic struck followed by absolute horror. I stoped in my tracks and stared straight ahead. My daughter stopped talking and said "What is it mommy?". I didn't want to answer. I couldn't answer. I was frozen.
A thought hit me. I was the only person walking down that isle. No. It's couldn't be. That can't be my badonkadonk. I am seeing things because the last time I saw my rear it was not that shape. In fact I'm not sure it was a shape. So I took a deep breath, gathered my strength, and slowly took a step backward. Very slowly. I kept looking forward until I came to a stop and slowly turned my head.
Holy cow that is my caboose! My jaw dropped. I cocked my head to the side as if looking at it from a different angle would make my patootie go back to it's former shape. I thought "I am slouching. Maybe if I stood up straight.... Oh my God that makes it worse!" Wow. Did running do THAT to my arse? I just stood there in awe. I'm sure by that point there were a few people staring at me. I couldn't really say for sure because it was like me and my tuchus were the only ones in the universe. My daughter snapped me out of it by asking me what I was looking at. I stuttered a bit and walked away.
A few days before this happened I noticed what I thought was a small change in my back door while taking a shower. It seemed a bit smaller to me. I thought it was my imagination. I asked my hubby if he noticed. We have a don't ask don't tell policy in my home when it comes to my gluteus maximus. I don't ask you what it looks like and you don't tell me what it looks like. So he wisely looked down, shook his head, and said "I like it". No amount of drilling him for info was going to make him crack. After 15 years he knows the best answer is neither yes or no. So I had to investigate for myself.
A trip to the full length mirror told the story. Before I started running my trunk not only had a lot of junk in it, but it resembled a 'trunk' that had been in one heck of a hail storm and possibly a tornado. Now it looks as though it has only been nicked a couple of times in the supermarket parking lot. Good improvement, but I had no clue what my biscuits looked like in jeans until the 'Wal-mart incident'.
So since then I have found myself sneaking a peak at my bum when in public. I am subtle about it. I'm not standing in front of elevators and windows flexing my tush or anything. Just a quick look. I am a bit scared though. If the small amount of running I have done transformed my fanny like that, what is it going to look like in a month? Am I going to be knocking things over with my tail? Will I be required to wear a sign and beep when I back up? I mean, my God! What happened back there? Instead of running my butt off I am running it on. Oh well. As long as my husband "likes it" haha. The journey continues!
I was walking through Wal-mart the other day pushing a buggy. My five year old was sitting in the buggy happily chatting away about her life as a kindergardener keeping me distracted. I was looking from side to side as I walked down the isle when a reflection caught my eye. I only got a quick glance so I wasn't sure what it was, and then it hit me. "Man that's a big ole butt!" I thought to myself. Not big in the jiggling like jell-o sense, but big as in the, well, ghetto booty sense. You know, a nice shape, but kinda big. I started to snicker when sheer panic struck followed by absolute horror. I stoped in my tracks and stared straight ahead. My daughter stopped talking and said "What is it mommy?". I didn't want to answer. I couldn't answer. I was frozen.
A thought hit me. I was the only person walking down that isle. No. It's couldn't be. That can't be my badonkadonk. I am seeing things because the last time I saw my rear it was not that shape. In fact I'm not sure it was a shape. So I took a deep breath, gathered my strength, and slowly took a step backward. Very slowly. I kept looking forward until I came to a stop and slowly turned my head.
Holy cow that is my caboose! My jaw dropped. I cocked my head to the side as if looking at it from a different angle would make my patootie go back to it's former shape. I thought "I am slouching. Maybe if I stood up straight.... Oh my God that makes it worse!" Wow. Did running do THAT to my arse? I just stood there in awe. I'm sure by that point there were a few people staring at me. I couldn't really say for sure because it was like me and my tuchus were the only ones in the universe. My daughter snapped me out of it by asking me what I was looking at. I stuttered a bit and walked away.
A few days before this happened I noticed what I thought was a small change in my back door while taking a shower. It seemed a bit smaller to me. I thought it was my imagination. I asked my hubby if he noticed. We have a don't ask don't tell policy in my home when it comes to my gluteus maximus. I don't ask you what it looks like and you don't tell me what it looks like. So he wisely looked down, shook his head, and said "I like it". No amount of drilling him for info was going to make him crack. After 15 years he knows the best answer is neither yes or no. So I had to investigate for myself.
A trip to the full length mirror told the story. Before I started running my trunk not only had a lot of junk in it, but it resembled a 'trunk' that had been in one heck of a hail storm and possibly a tornado. Now it looks as though it has only been nicked a couple of times in the supermarket parking lot. Good improvement, but I had no clue what my biscuits looked like in jeans until the 'Wal-mart incident'.
So since then I have found myself sneaking a peak at my bum when in public. I am subtle about it. I'm not standing in front of elevators and windows flexing my tush or anything. Just a quick look. I am a bit scared though. If the small amount of running I have done transformed my fanny like that, what is it going to look like in a month? Am I going to be knocking things over with my tail? Will I be required to wear a sign and beep when I back up? I mean, my God! What happened back there? Instead of running my butt off I am running it on. Oh well. As long as my husband "likes it" haha. The journey continues!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Something to pass the time
I sell Avon now. I figured it was a good idea because I am an Avon addict and I get to earn some cash for my trip to Charleston. They also have some cool stuff from Curves and a line of fitness products. Why not give it a shot, right? So here is a link to my online store. Check out the outlet. Lots of cool stuff at discount prices there. Tell your friends! Thanks!
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