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.

It All Came Back

Every. Single. Pound.

Why? Well, it's easy when you stop working out. I just gave up over the winter and realized what a huge mistake it was when I gained all my weight back and then some. My self pity is at an all time high right now. My so-called "friends" who said that they would be with me through this whole thing and I thought would never leave me...have done just that. My motivation is gone. My hope of being at my goal weight, shot completely down.

I have a list of excuses that any normal human being would never fault me for not working out. Unfortunately, I am not a normal person so I blame myself for everything and take it all to heart that I am a failure. Well, I am tired of writing about my failures. It doesn't do me any good and it's boring for you so this is my new "I can do it" post instead.

I am in nursing school. Not only is it a hell of a different level it is the most difficult thing I have ever done in my entire life. Yet, it is the most rewarding thing I have ever done as well. It takes up, literally, all of my time. I haven't seen my family since August of last year when I started. A normal day of school and work can run from wake to sleep time: 0430 to 2300 if I am lucky. Since nearly all of my time is dedicated to studies I have not had time to workout, run, or even eat normally. It's time to get back into action.

I am motivated by one thing right now. I simply cannot be that nurse that consistently tells people they should lose weight and be over 200 lbs myself. It just doesn't convey that "trust me because I know what I am talking about" kind of thing. It's like a smoker telling another smoker that smoking will kill you, no kidding? Is that why you still do it?

So here it is. I am buying a Fitbit, I have done my research on it and I know that it is not completely accurate but it is something to give me some motivation to get active. It's mostly because of that competitive gene that I have that I am getting one. So that I can compete with my nursing school buddies who have one. I must do better than them. I bought a treadmill so that even if it's raining (which it does a lot here in NC during the summer) I can still take a walk or a run. I bought a bike so I don't have to run all the time. Yes, running gets boring if you are doing the same route every day and never run with friends anymore because they gave up on you. Every chance I get I am going to be moving instead of sitting. That hour spent watching TV at night will be spent still watching TV but moving on the treadmill instead.

Pity party is over as of tonight. Tomorrow I will turn on the Fitbit and get to working. I will track everything I do on Myfitnesspal app and I will drink my fruit smoothies and water all day. Wish me luck, or don't. Either way I am doing this without my "friends" and I will definitely keep the rest of you posted.

My First Official Death Race...aka the 5K

Well, I finished my very first official USATF (United States of America Track and Field) 5K and lived to tell about it.

I didn't have a time in mind to finish, I just wanted to say I did it and I didn't want to be dead last. Surprisingly, I accomplished both, so I'm pretty full of myself happy with the results. So happy, in fact, that I am doing it again this week. Not the same race of course, I have to wait until next year for that, but a night one held on the university campus.

My day started early, and by early I mean that I was awake before the rest of the entire world. Even my dogs looked at me like I was insane as they burrowed themselves back under my blankets. At 0430 everything looks bleak and the race didn't even start until 9! I contemplated just not going or going but just walking or not going and running later that night. Alas, I remembered that I was taking my six year old with me (we'll call her Bad Ass Baby Girl, BABG) and she would've been very disappointed not to see her buddy who was going to be there. So I got out of bed and took a shower. Yes, I know taking a shower before a run sounds a bit on the retarded side but hear me out, I only did it to wake myself up for the two hour drive to the race.

 BABG and I arrived just before 0730 when race registration started. A friend of mine had warned me about the pre-race potty emergencies that can happen so I headed straight to the restroom before I did anything else. Once we were registered we had a while before the race started so we made friends with a few volunteers for a while and then headed down to the starting line to stretch out and check out the competition.
 

I was feeling fine. As you may know I despise morning runs just about as much as I despise frogs, which we'll talk about that in a later post. (If you don't know about my morning run hatred you can read about it here.) But, I was feeling good. I was pumped, warmed, stretched, and good to go. The route didn't look too bad on the map, it was a full circle instead of an out and back. I was smiling and happy, right up until some old man jogged up next to me and asked if I had seen...The Hill.

"Hill? What hill?" I asked.

"The one that's behind us," he replied with a crooked smile.

I looked over my shoulder and it didn't look that bad. I shrugged and said, "No worries, this fat bottom girl has skills. I can do it."

He left me there in the wake of his laughter as he walked away. My confident smile turned to a cringe when I realized that he was laughing at me, instead of with me.

The race whistle started and we were off. BABG took off like a bullet and raced ahead of me. I just knew I wouldn't see her again until the finish line. The race started off with a gentle incline for about a tenth of a mile, no biggie, easy day. I was yet to learn how wrong I was. There was a long downhill after that where I picked up my pace and passed the walkers. It never occurred to me that I would have to gain that elevation drop back somehow. Then there was a nice and easy flat spot all the way to the end of mile one.

At the beginning of mile 2 there is a hill, not too bad, but a little steeper than I was used to. When I got to the top I figured that was it. That is until I looked up and saw it. There, just around the corner, was the biggest, steepest, hill I'd ever seen. It was a monster, it was eating up runners and speed walkers alike. The experienced runners were just getting to the top as I rounded the corner and they were...walking? Dear God the runners were walking the hill!!

I knew I was in for it. "Why did no one tell me?" I cried in confusion. I put my head down and focused on the concrete below my feet. I pushed and pushed and pushed until I couldn't take it anymore. My heart and brain hadn't given up just yet, but my legs were jello. Suddenly, I heard a small voice behind me calling my name and I realized it was BABG, she was walking it and barely faster than a crawl. I took her hand and we pushed up the rest of it together, at a walk. This beast of a hill is nearly a mile long and it feeds on the blood and sweat of inexperienced runners like myself.

Once we reached the top, the volunteers gave us water and made sure we were okay. Luckily, the rest of the way was downhill and just a little tiny hill at the end to get back to the finish line. BABG took off ahead of me again once I mentioned there was ice cream at the end. She finished at 57 minutes flat while I dragged ass behind her at 58:15.

I fucking finished it, goal one complete. Out of 158 competitive runners, I was 153, I wasn't dead last, goal two complete. My reward? Olive Garden with my buddy!!

What now, you ask? Now, I get to work on my time and figure out a way to demolish that hill next year.

10 lbs

This morning was a bit of a shocker. I have been completely depressed for the last couple days since seeing my doc about not being able to do any cardio whatsoever. I can't run, I can't walk, I can't even do the elliptical, I've been watching my friends run and play, and I have just been whiny and sad the whole time. (I know, an FBG complaining that she isn't allowed to get off her ass? What is this world coming to?)

Finally, last night I'd had enough whining and got off my ass and went to the gym. I am allowed to do upper body strength training so I completely destroyed my abs and my arms. It felt good to kick my own ass and get out there again. I missed the aches and pains of weight lifting and the day after feeling of mild soreness.

Yes, I am still depressed that I can't run or do any cardio but here's the thing, even with all my bitching and whining, I have reached my first goal of LOSING 10 pounds.

I stepped on the ever dreaded scale this morning and there it was. A little arrow that pointed down and a great big 10! I literally screamed in my bathroom, frightening anyone within one hundred yards of my house and waking the kids.

Hills...Nature's Way of Saying, "Because, Fuck You."

I hate hills.

I don't care if they are small, long, steep, or gentle slopes that meander. I hate them. When I am running I dread coming up to the bottom of the hill. As I gasp for breath I look up and see that the top just keeps stretching farther and farther from my view and it goes on and on. Like the hallway scene in that movie "The Shinning."

It's terrible! Horrible! Because they hate me! Stupid hills.

This is the last hill before I get back to my house. This is the hardest hill I have on my run. There are around 7 hills in total out and back. But this one kicks my butt every time. It doesn't look bad right? So innocent and unassuming. That is until you get up to it and start your jog up it. Then it turns into some seventh level of hell with no end in sight!

And I met a new friend. This is her. She is always there to greet me when I get to my turn around point and I catch my breath but this was the first time she let me pet her. Tomorrow I shall bring her a carrot!

The Before...

You know those before and after pictures you see every where for every thing from weight loss to acne medication? I have come to despise them. It depicts people in the worst times of their lives and, as someone who was picked on all throughout her school age years, I can only imagine the names these poor people were called. They hate themselves and what they look like because someone shitty CEO of some shitty company told them that they aren't pretty enough or skinny enough. And WE believe them.

Of course we do! We want to believe them, we want to be someone totally different from who we are! They promised that if we use their products (not approved by the FDA) we will magically lose weight overnight and finally be skinny enough (results not typical)! Who wouldn't want that?

Well, I've tried nearly everything out there and nothing, literally not a single one of them, has worked. I followed all of the directions to a Tee and would maybe lose a couple pounds here and there. Alas, nothing made me lose weight overnight and I sure as hell didn't make me any prettier.

Don't get me wrong. I am totally comfortable with the person that I am. I am smart, I love animals and my friends and family, I love to tease people and be teased in return, I have a smart mouth that goes along with my quick sense of humor. I have a belief system that has nothing to do with a god and I trust in myself. That doesn't mean I have to like the way I look. Which I don't obviously. So I did it right. I went and talked to my doctor who told me what I need to do. Funny how I already knew what he was going to say.

"FBG you need to stop all of these fad diets, you're making it worse. Just eat right! No more fast food, period. No more soda, quit smoking, eat more salad and less bread, eat less red meat and more greens. Then after you do that, I want you to start exercising. Everyday."

"Everyday?!?"

"Yes. Every. Single. Day. And for the rest of your life," he told me. I was not happy with this decision but I am slowly making these changes.

So if I have to do this for the rest of my life I figured I'd better get started and I did. At least I have The Punisher helping me with the exercise every single day. I haven't had fast food and I quit smoking on June 25th of this year, my birthday. Here is my BEFORE picture taken just last night. I have lost two pounds from my heaviest weight of 242 pounds. The day of the 5K I will post the BEFORE and AFTER picture.

I Made a Friend

Last night was brutal. I made a huge mistake in recruiting a motivator who I will now refer to as "The Punisher." He listens to my whining but doesn't care, he ignores my sailor mouth, and has pushed me farther than I have ever been willing to go by myself. The bastard.

Here is an idea of my 60 minute workout: 3.0 miles on the recumbent bike (just to work up a sweat, a "warm-up" he calls it!) lunges, squats, a wall bounce thing that works your calves and ankles, 1 round of suicides (this gem of enlightenment had never been attempted by one FBG such as myself. Pretty sure I died there on that basketball court and my next of kin was already notified.) We did line hops, first forward and back then side to side, (also a giant pain in my ass amazingly enjoyable.) A short game of basketball was played thereafter which I was able to hide in a corner somewhere because I do not play. I did some curls, (with actual weights mind you!) and finally was able to sneak out before The Punisher was able to find something else for me to do.


After all that and about eight hours of recovery sleep, I decided to take a run this morning. 2.2 miles, uphill both ways (I am the only person on the planet that can find a road that is literally uphill in every direction), but I made a friend. He was a nice little friend, just crossing the road in front of me on one of the gentle inclines of my run. Yellow and black he hid in the grass after he raced across the road trying to beat the oncoming traffic.

I don't know about you, but when I run I generally think about things. Mostly they are things that are funny. Trust me, everything is funny when your legs are on fire and your lungs feel like they have collapsed. Even Marc Parent who authors the Newbie Chronicles on Runner's World thinks 'funny' is funnier when running, especially stupid things. So after meeting my little friend I asked myself, "Why did the turtle cross the road?"

Now, to a normal non-running person this would seem like the beginning of a joke for a small child. I assure you that this is not how my mind works. The answers to that very simple question ranged from the extremely mild "to get to the otherside" type jokes to "because some asshole keeps turning me around and taking me back to where I started!" to even "because the chicken I just slept with is back that way!"

By the end of my little tirade of answers to myself I was cracking up, out of breath, with legs burning like the lava fields in Hawaii. I made it all the way home on that little find, thank you my little friend! Hopefully I will make another friend tonight when I meet up with The Punisher again.

Let's Talk About Running.

Okay. Here's the thing. I am NOT a runner, never have been. I actually despise anything that makes me breathe hard and my muscles ache. Even SEX gets on my nerves sometimes (that's a lie.) Hence, not a runner.

Saturday was my first run since my 2001 Navy Physical Readiness Test, not including the fiasco I did a couple months ago. I was positive that I could at least run 1.5 miles with no problem. I mean I could do it 11 years ago without a problem, right?. (The PRT is a 1.5 mile run that had to be completed in 13 minutes and 30 seconds to pass, and just barely pass at that. Being the bare minimum kind of FBG, that was my time.)

So, after a LONG boring day at my 3x3 cubicle desk job it was time to meet up with my new 5K training buddies. I put on my spandex shorts (covered by another pair of loose shorts so as not to offend anyone,) a cool new running shirt (it doesn't absorb sweat so it prevents chafing,) and my brand spankin' new runnin' shoes (recommended by the skinny bitch at the shoe store.) I was ready to go. I felt great! I avoided mirrors at all costs, so of course I looked great too!

I arrived early to our designated meeting area, right near the McDonalds. (Thanks assholes. Who the hell meets near McDonalds before a run?) I stretched a little, looking like I probably knew what I was doing, and waited patiently for my friends to arrive. Once they did, we complained and whined for twenty minutes talked and joked a little but then it was time to get down to business.

How does one start running? Do you start walking then move your way up to a run? Do you just skip start and then run? Do you do that weird trip/fall/run thing? I had no clue. I opted for the walking and moving my legs faster until I was running approach and so did my friends. All runners will tell you that for a nice, comfortable, pace you need to be able to say a complete sentence without being too much out of breath. Well with this FBG any sort of walking fast or jogging will put me out of breath and unable to speak coherently. Usually it's filled with a bunch of cuss words strung together to make a sentence only sailors can understand. Eventually I got into a pace that was easy enough for me to keep and hard enough to feel the energy being used. It felt pretty good to get out there running. I was on fire! I wanted to keep going! I was ready to take on anything!

.10 miles later I was huffing and puffing, dragging my feet, and barely able to lift my arms. I cursed the heavens and I am pretty sure I was stuck in a level of hell attained by only those who are are Reese's Peanut Butter loving sinners. (Yes, I am hoping that you didn't notice the little point before the 10 so you're thinking "OMG you ran ten miles? That's GREAT." Yeah, I did that on purpose.) I did run a total of at least half a mile. Pretty good for someone who has to heft around 240 lbs.

I am a little sore, a little tired, and to top it all off...I'm doing it again tomorrow!

What I Learned

This morning was the first morning that I was able to use my employer’s new gym. I asked the husband if he would like to come with me. I didn’t want to go alone and he didn’t have any idea the last time he stepped on a scale. We hopped in the car around seven am and made the short trip into town. Once we got there, he hopped on the bike while I put my ass on the elliptical. Then I figured out how to use it and put my feet on it instead.

After ten minutes of the recommended level ten setting, I moved it down to level eight for the last twenty minutes as my military suggested workout told me to. According to Navy standards, I am to increase the levels not the time if it gets easy. I don’t see that happening any time soon.

At my twenty-minute time, the husband decided he wanted to go lift weights instead of keeping up with the cardio on the bike. Five minutes later he was done, five minutes after that my legs were jell-o and I was ready to go home. I did a cool down and left, but here is what I learned during my two completely military standard workouts.

I learned that I can complete fifty push-ups but I cannot seem to do it without bitching. I learned that I can run two miles without bitching (because I can’t breathe enough to do so.) I learned that the elliptical is a gift from the devil incarnate. I learned that I have muscles that haven’t been used in over twelve years. Most importantly, I learned that I can complete an entire workout (unlike my loving husband.)

First Things First

If you walk into the office at any time of the day, I can almost promise you that someone, somewhere, is shoveling food into his or her face. The smells waft from our break room like french-fries in a hot car. Sometimes I am able to figure out what the smell is but usually it just smells like rancid garbage.

Our small space is filled to the brim with cubicles and there is a warm body in each little cubby. Steadily they force feed themselves into morbid obesity (so did I.) At this time of year most of us are working 54 hour work weeks with only Sunday off. That doesn’t leave much time for making healthy meals and working out (some barely have enough time to shower regularly.) Most of us have fast food burgers and fries on a daily basis that contributes to the cholesterol overload in the body. We look like a cattle farm; all of us cows shoved into our own small space grinding away on our oats while the bosses fatten us up for the slaughter.

Sick of the same routine of eat, sleep, eat, work, eat, college, eat, work, eat. I approached my co-workers with the prospect of losing weight and working out. I was excited to share with them my newfound health inspiration. I was not as well received as I had hoped. They looked at me as if I had just taken away their last meal. It was that moment when that I reached down to take the dinner plate away from a hungry puppy that I lost my arm.

“Are you calling me fat?” was one response. Well, yes actually. I am calling you fat. I would not have asked you to come with me if you were one of the few who have been blessed with the skinny gene. So get off your high horse (lazy boy, couch, whatever else you use to sit on) and let’s take a walk.

Looks like I am on my own this time. Won’t they be amazed when 6 months from now, I will be at my goal weight, and they will still be chewing their cud in the cubicles. 

Amat Obesus Puella

Amat Obesus Puella means "The Fat Girl" in Latin, hence my name Puella Obesus "Girl Fat." No I don't speak Latin (idiot, no one speaks Latin.) If you're wondering who in the heck would name their child Puella Obesus...Stop reading this blog. Seriously. No one would name their child this hideous name (although Sage Moonblood and Apple are cutting it close!) (For all you Latin scholars out there I do realize that this may be grammatically incorrect. With that said, don't go correcting it. Google only allows so many name changes.)

That's me. The fat girl. Yeah, the one in the middle...what do you mean you can't tell? Clearly the other two skinny biotches on either side of me makes it easier?

I would normally say I'm proud of what I look like. Bigger is better, and all that jazz, but recently my five year old daughter has been able to out run me when we're headed for the cookie jar. This heinous act must be remedied! Not only is the little cookie thief small enough to fit through a key hole, she's as fast as a cheetah! A simple explanation of, "mommy made those cookies for herself," just doesn't seem to work with her. Her reply is generally something along the lines of, "catch me if you can fatty mommy!"

In case you haven't noticed, this blog is intended to be a humorous, rude, obnoxious, and sometimes down right dirty, journey of weight loss and lifestyle changes. If you are easily offended you have my permission to stop reading right now and browse to another blog or website that will adhere to your sensitive sensibilities.