Fat Bottom Girl is moving...

Puella has found a new home on WordPress!! I'm excited to say that we are moving finally all moved in over there. I have decided that it's too much work to keep both sites updated so this site will be shutting down completely on April 1. Go follow me here or www.thefatbottomgirl.com

Get Out of the Road, Fatty!

Countdown to the Half:
Day 6:

Clearly, I have underestimated the amount of hills and lack of actual sidewalks there are in the little town in which I work. The plan was to get off work at 6pm, change clothes, and do a quick 4 mile out and back (and by quick I mean less than an hour of running.) When I started it was daylight and my choice of black spandex running tights and a black shirt was just fine (for running in at least, but it's quite possible that the viewing pleasure of others was slightly disturbed.) Unfortunately, as my mileage increased so did the darkness and my choice of attire was obviously not wise. Sometimes I forget that I live and work in the mountains and when the sun decides to go down for the night, it goes down very quickly, and it gets very dark.

You can't really tell from this pic...but those are HILLS!

I ran past all the outdoor patio eateries that we happen to have here, which is an ungodly amount for some reason, and they smell fucking delicious! Obviously the people stuffing their faces were extremely jealous of my excellent running form because they all stared at me with their mouths open and the fork frozen in place half way to their face. I seriously contemplated stealing a french fry from a few plates as I ran past...it wasn't like they needed to eat it nor would they get up and chase me.

There were a few times I was forced preferred to run in the road due to some snow stubbornly remaining in the shady parts of the sidewalk or a lack of sidewalk at all. The road I chose to run on is a main thoroughfare and I had to watch out for the people who always obey the laws and do the speed limit shitty fucking drivers.

I, of course, had my head phones in and my music blaring because I am a dissociative runner (it's a thing, I promise, look it up) and I must have distractions. I start to make my way up one of the many steep and steady hills toward the cute little town and suddenly, out of no where, I start hearing horns honking and cars start flashing their lights at me. I proceed to get so excited that I wave to each vehicle with a gigantic smile on my face and my arms flailing about as if I just won a million dollars. I think to myself, "wow, this town is just great, look how supportive they are of FBG runners!"

After a few moments I began to wonder if they were really encouraging me or just saying, "get out of the road, fatty!"

I Run 4

Not so recently I was introduced to the most amazing group of runners that I have never met. The IRun4Michael group. You see, when I started this running journey it was for me. For my health, for my self-esteem (or lack thereof,) and for my family. I never thought that I could do this for anyone else. Boy, was I mistaken.

My Aunt, an amazingly strong, quick witted, FBG, introduced me to this group that pairs you with children/people who cannot run due to a disability. She had found them because of her son who has Angelman Syndrome (if you do not know what that is click here. These angels are some of the greatest kids I know) and said that I should register as a runner.

I figured, what the hell. Let's do it, so I did. The wait list is very long but a few months later I was paired with a happy little boy. I am his number one fan at the moment because he is just plain awesome. Like any little man he loves playing outside but the problem is he has juvenile rheumatoid arthritis and a rare disorder that makes him allergic to the sun light. So playing outside is a chore of dressing him for the likes of the blizzard of '93. His mother is an astonishingly strong woman who keeps in touch with me regularly about him and home-schools both of her children (her daughter also has a runner due to her own disabilities.) She puts up with my constant complaints of not being able to run outside which is awesome. I'm completely surprised she hasn't dumped me yet.

I am honored and humbled that I was chosen to be the runner for him. It literally takes no time away from my schedule to dedicate my runs, workouts, and my all around general laziness to him. He inspires me to get out there because he can't. I complain because I can't run outside when it's cold, he can't go outside at all, what in the world do I have to complain about?

So please, if you have a little time to sign up go do it. You don't have to be a runner, just someone who exercises regular-ish-ly like me. I promise it is fulfilling and even a little bit of acknowledgement for these kids goes a long, long, way.

Countdown to the Half Days 2 - 6

Day Two: Today I was supposed to do "Stretch and Strengthen" which to me meant I got to try out what others had told me was the most amazing workout I would just love.

Yoga.

Let me just tell you. I do not love Yoga. I do not think I could ever even learn to love Yoga. Yoga and I have tried to be friends and frankly, Yoga's a bitch. FBGs are not meant, in any capacity, to attempt a yoga position.

It started off well, sitting on the floor (my favorite place) and it involved a closing of the eyes to concentrating on your breathing. Easy enough, right? WRONG. First, I can't close my eyes! I had to watch the fucking video on YouTube because I had never done Yoga before. Second, I apparently forgot HOW to breathe in and out in a consistent manner. I held my breath nearly every pose and when I felt like I was going to pass out, I would let out this huge huff of air and suck it back in to hold again for another pose. By the end of the twenty-three minutes of the most annoying bitch voice ever a soothing voice, I was out of breath and still hadn't stretched a single muscle. I realize I was doing it all wrong and probably should've went to a beginners class, but once I was face down on my hands and knees and the German Shepard decided that would be a good time to mount me...I gave up. I lifted weights for the next thirty-five minutes and did my own stretching and felt great.

Day Three: 3 mile run. S-U-C-K-E-D A-S-S. It was the first run I had to do and it had snowed the night before about a foot deep. This meant that I was running on the devil incarnate instead of nice forgiving asphault. I did it and only bitched about it for an hour. Pretty good.

Day Four: I was looking forward to today! Only two miles and I got to run OUTSIDE for the first time. It was sub-freezing weather but I really did not care. I put on my brand spanking new cold weather running pants which sucked in all the fat and kept my legs from jiggling too much. They are awesome! I ran the two miles the fastest I have ever run two miles and it felt great. I used a pacer app that I had set for an ambitious 14 minute mile (I have never ran a 14 minute mile since leaving the Navy) and I did it! I even impressed myself. I wanted to go further but I promised myself to stick to the plan for two reasons: 1) I had someone else to blame if I failed and 2) I did not want to injure myself again and have to pull out of the half.


Day Five: I was not looking forward to today. It was another 3 miles on the devil incarnate and of course...it had snowed another 2345345 feet or so, give or take a few inches. I grabbed my iPad and turned on Netflix to The Fluffy Movie and watched it. I was laughing the entire time and completely forgot that I was running. I ended up doing more than I had planned because I was so enthralled with Fluffy losing over 100 lbs and telling his super awesome story. And!!! I will have you know I didn't bitch about the run at all!

Day Six: And on the sixth day the FBG rested. May the training God's rejoice for this day I give thanks!

No One "Enjoys" Running

Literally, no one.

Oh, now, don't get your panties all in a rumple, hear me out.

Ask yourself if you really enjoy the act of running. The legs burning, lungs screaming, heart pounding, act of running. Or is it the after effects of the run that make you love it? The other day I took a short run on the treadmill (aka the hatemill) and found that I really, really, really, love hate running. I mean, I REALLY hate running. I love the "idea" of running and all the good things that happen after running such as weight loss, muscle building, and depression fighting. But I truly despise the act of running.

It hurts, it makes me want to vomit, I'm sore for what seems like an eternity, I hate it. Somehow, I still turn around twenty minutes later and excitedly tell my FBG fan club that I love running.

The people that perhaps do enjoy the act of running must have some sort of chemical imbalance. It's sick really. Let me list all of the things that I have found make me hate the act of running (as described by a member of the FBG fan club):


1. Chaffed nipples
2. Black toenails
3. Falling off of said toenails
4. Bounciness of fat

Please, feel free to comment below the reasons you hate running or try to convince me that you actually love running. I'd love to hear them.



Countdown to the Half Update:
I downloaded the 12 week half marathon training plan written by Hal Higdon and tweaked it to fit my needs and in ten weeks (ambitious? Possibly). You can find it here if you want to start training for your own half because I am so damned inspiring!


Day One: Today I just had to do 30 minutes of cross training. I took this to mean I could do the elliptical (aka devil incarnate) for 30 minutes. Which I did. But of course I couldn't just do that and feel any sort of accomplishment. So fan girl (mentioned earlier) and I did some light weight lifting. (And by "light weight lifting" I mean completely destroyed our arms and abs with only a little bit of work.)

Half Marathon

Shit. I've gone and done it now. I have somehow conned talked myself into running a half marathon. I'm not exactly sure what has possessed me to sign up for said half marathon. Apparently, I have lost my last ounce of sanity in nursing school and I believe I can do anything!

This is probably how the conversation with myself went:

"Hey FBG, you've been running for a couple weeks each month for the better part of a year. Maybe you can run a half?"

"Are you nuts? You know that's like 13.1 miles, probably up hill the whole time. Of course I can't run a half."

"Okay. Lets sign up for one."

"Sounds awesome. Lets do it."

And so I did. Bought and paid for. I was even so excited that they had a "finisher" medal that I wrote a training plan and it starts tomorrow. Just so you know, everything I ever "start" starts tomorrow.



I asked my friends if they wanted to join me. All 200+ of them on my friends list on Facebook were so excited that they didn't even say they would. I assume they went right out and signed up without telling me and I will see them there on the starting line. Although, I did manage to beg and plead ask one nice FBG bestie club member to sign up with me. On a serious note; she has been my rock through this whole thing. Even though we don't get to see each other much, she was always willing to take a run with me and she always stuck by my side (even though I know she can run much faster than me and she has proven it.) She may think I am insane but she will be right there with me and we both will get our clean white self-huggers at the same time!


The website says that the cut off time is 3.5 hours to run the race. "Plenty" of time for "walkers" they said. I figure it takes me an unholy hellish amount of time a little under two hours to run 7 miles. I think I will eat up every second of the 3.5 hours but I might just make it. I just might get that medal.

P.S. My new hero is T-rex runner. Click the name to read about her. Her blog is not only funny but she is basically a smaller version of me. She doesn't know it yet but we are destined to be best friends common acquaintances.

Well Crap.

First of all, it's been way too long since I've kept you all updated and posted. This is entirely my fault but I haven't given up and I trust that you're still here to read my tales no matter how long it takes me. Listen, I have news. Not great news but not bad news either. I graduate nursing school soon and the husband has paid for a cruise to the Bahamas in celebration of my accomplishment. (We are going regardless if I manage to make it through this last semester or not.)

 Here is the problem:

1. I do not have a dress for the formal dinner night. Actually, that's a lie. I DO have a dress. I just can't fit in to the damn thing. It hangs in my closet...attempting to look innocent...but it mocks me. I know it's tricks. I have not worn it since after baby number one in Hawaii. I also haven't tried it on since cruise number one in which it was way too small. Granted, I have lost a literal ton some weight since cruise number one, so I'm probably just being paranoid that it won't fit. I just don't want to take any chances of being completely heart broken if it does not. (I would be over joyed if it was too big though!)

2. It's the freakin' Bahamas...in June. It's hot. Not just hot, that's not the right word at all, but so damn hot you have to chew your air to breathe and your shoes melt to the pavement type hot. But that type of hot does not afford me permission to just run around naked. That means I have to wear shorts. This is not something that I wish upon anyone's viewing pleasures. Blonde haired, blue eyed, white girl, problems I suppose.




Here are the good points:

1. I get to go to the Bahamas again.
2. I get to RUN in the Bahamas, that is if I can get off the ship without bursting into flames.