April 13, 2010
I would really just like to say that there is a perfectly legitimate reason for my lack of blogging this last – er, these last, two months…because I broke my leg and couldn’t exercise…but I can’t…because I didn’t break my leg. I broke something much, much worse! My willpower. It just snapped one day. I hit the snooze one morning and never looked back. Well, maybe I did. It appears the guilt never goes away completely, try as I did to make it. I did go on a hike or two, the first of which was a day or two after my last blog and truly did cause some non-exercisable pain. One form was physical – in the knee (for which I drew comfort in being excused from exercises for about a week); the other was in dignity, which I left no more than two miles from the start of the hike. I have to say, it left me in various bouts of comic relief for my fellow hikers (and myself) as I slipped and grappled with the mud/in the mud/through the mud…for hours…and hours…until we had to turn around due to snow and thunder, whereupon I repeated my self-inflicted mud-bashing. In fact, I brought so much mud back I wasn’t allowed to wear my clothes the same way I came in them for the ride home. Now, really, who doesn’t want a souvenir from a good trip?! Freaks…
So here I sit, finally not resembling a crack addict on her first day of sobriety – the shakes calmed quite a bit after my nice hot shower, although I think I could probably muster enough to simulate believable hypothermic shock symptoms. This is ridiculous. I’m going to eat some chocolate and go to bed.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Oops
Feb. 9, 2010
My alarm clock looked me straight in the eye today, and I gave right in to the snooze button. It really didn’t take much convincing. Hopefully, this is not the beginning of the end. I have been doing so well!! Right now, it is 3 p.m. and I am home from work, effectively putting this exercise off a bit more by trying to catch up on my blog entries. Productive and important, I know.
********************************
I am an idiot. I just started my new week’s routine backwards. When the DVD was about halfway through, I realized it was a little too familiar for me to have watched it a whole week ago…which, it turns out, was completely true, since I had only just watched it on Saturday. But that’s not the worst part. I didn’t realize I actually did the wrong one until dinner, when I mentioned I did “Burn 3” today and Laura said, “Uhhh, you mean 1.”
Shoot! “Nope…Crap.”
Good thing I have tomorrow off again. Maybe my brain will relax this time, honestly recharge and get back on track on Thursday. Or maybe this is how my track is going to be. I love carnival rides!
My alarm clock looked me straight in the eye today, and I gave right in to the snooze button. It really didn’t take much convincing. Hopefully, this is not the beginning of the end. I have been doing so well!! Right now, it is 3 p.m. and I am home from work, effectively putting this exercise off a bit more by trying to catch up on my blog entries. Productive and important, I know.
********************************
I am an idiot. I just started my new week’s routine backwards. When the DVD was about halfway through, I realized it was a little too familiar for me to have watched it a whole week ago…which, it turns out, was completely true, since I had only just watched it on Saturday. But that’s not the worst part. I didn’t realize I actually did the wrong one until dinner, when I mentioned I did “Burn 3” today and Laura said, “Uhhh, you mean 1.”
Shoot! “Nope…Crap.”
Good thing I have tomorrow off again. Maybe my brain will relax this time, honestly recharge and get back on track on Thursday. Or maybe this is how my track is going to be. I love carnival rides!
Heaven
Feb. 8, 2010
Today, I slept in. And I didn’t have to pay for it later…nor did I have to pay for a delicious dinner at Olive Garden. (Thank you, Sarge!)
Ahh, bliss!
Maybe I did die on Friday after all…feels a little too much like Heaven…
Today, I slept in. And I didn’t have to pay for it later…nor did I have to pay for a delicious dinner at Olive Garden. (Thank you, Sarge!)
Ahh, bliss!
Maybe I did die on Friday after all…feels a little too much like Heaven…
Burnt out
Feb. 7, 2010
“Burn Off/Recharge” is a very mean misnomer. Here I was expecting to get a break from the other Burn days, but noooooo…that’s not what “Burn Off” means. “Burn Off” means burn off every single calorie you anticipate to eat today…and the rest of the week! Apparently, it’s the cardio workout. And apparently, my poor heart needs to pump like a broken water spigot. At 6:30 in the morning.
As for the “Recharge”? Forget it. Tomorrow, when I find myself unable to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, is what that is for.
“Burn Off/Recharge” is a very mean misnomer. Here I was expecting to get a break from the other Burn days, but noooooo…that’s not what “Burn Off” means. “Burn Off” means burn off every single calorie you anticipate to eat today…and the rest of the week! Apparently, it’s the cardio workout. And apparently, my poor heart needs to pump like a broken water spigot. At 6:30 in the morning.
As for the “Recharge”? Forget it. Tomorrow, when I find myself unable to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, is what that is for.
Procrastination - 1, Me - 0
Feb. 6, 2010
Well, the organizer in me was really stoked about getting caught up on this blog…but the procrastinator in me just couldn’t keep it up. I immediately suffered intense writer’s block, which lasted at least three days... (I still don’t actually know whether my mind has been unblocked, but I’m going to go for it anyway - we'll see when this finally gets posted, I guess).
So, Saturday – er, today, was the last of the Burn sequences, “Burn 3.” Plus, I had the ab workout that I conveniently forgot to do yesterday. It wasn’t so bad. I mean, I was expecting the abs to be so much worse since I don’t really have any, but there were only a few exercises that were completely beyond my pitiful attempts.
Yay for "Recharge" tomorrow!
Well, the organizer in me was really stoked about getting caught up on this blog…but the procrastinator in me just couldn’t keep it up. I immediately suffered intense writer’s block, which lasted at least three days... (I still don’t actually know whether my mind has been unblocked, but I’m going to go for it anyway - we'll see when this finally gets posted, I guess).
So, Saturday – er, today, was the last of the Burn sequences, “Burn 3.” Plus, I had the ab workout that I conveniently forgot to do yesterday. It wasn’t so bad. I mean, I was expecting the abs to be so much worse since I don’t really have any, but there were only a few exercises that were completely beyond my pitiful attempts.
Yay for "Recharge" tomorrow!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Good news, bad news
February 5, 2010
Good news: I’m alive. Yay! Half-bad news: I wouldn't haven't had any flowers at my service. It's cool, I didn't really want flowers, anyway. Real bad news: I accidentally skipped part of the killer workout.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking – Accidentally, huh? Suuuuure. It’s true, though, I swear! The video I watched was already like, 45 minutes long! I thought surely, that was enough to endure for one morning. I didn’t figure out until later, while rehashing my morning in embarrassing detail to my new life coach, that I was supposed to have watched (and followed) two videos this morning. Whoops!! (Normally, I would feel bad about this under, well, honestly, no circumstances).
I suppose this means it’s tacked onto some other excruciating routine, now. Today’s was cardio. You think cardio, you think, Ooh! A nice break! I can do that! Yeah, no. Maybe it was just me that thought that… I put the DVD in and Chalean announced it was Cardio Day, and the relief that spread through me was indescribable. It was just a joke! I thought. Score! Yeah, score for team Lean Machine. That crap was hard! Yesterday my legs shook. Today, my arms nearly fell right off. Although, to be fair, my legs were already sore from the last two days, so I can’t really tell whether they hurt from today or not.
I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and see what else I can’t move. Anyone wanna place bets? I’ve got $3 on my triceps. And biceps.
Good news: I’m alive. Yay! Half-bad news: I wouldn't haven't had any flowers at my service. It's cool, I didn't really want flowers, anyway. Real bad news: I accidentally skipped part of the killer workout.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking – Accidentally, huh? Suuuuure. It’s true, though, I swear! The video I watched was already like, 45 minutes long! I thought surely, that was enough to endure for one morning. I didn’t figure out until later, while rehashing my morning in embarrassing detail to my new life coach, that I was supposed to have watched (and followed) two videos this morning. Whoops!! (Normally, I would feel bad about this under, well, honestly, no circumstances).
I suppose this means it’s tacked onto some other excruciating routine, now. Today’s was cardio. You think cardio, you think, Ooh! A nice break! I can do that! Yeah, no. Maybe it was just me that thought that… I put the DVD in and Chalean announced it was Cardio Day, and the relief that spread through me was indescribable. It was just a joke! I thought. Score! Yeah, score for team Lean Machine. That crap was hard! Yesterday my legs shook. Today, my arms nearly fell right off. Although, to be fair, my legs were already sore from the last two days, so I can’t really tell whether they hurt from today or not.
I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and see what else I can’t move. Anyone wanna place bets? I’ve got $3 on my triceps. And biceps.
So long!
Feb. 4, 2010
Chalean says I’m worth it. She says I deserve this hour. My God, what have I done?? If I’m going to die tomorrow, then so be it. I don’t think I can walk without looking like Parkinson’s patient. I’m serious. I was so shaky this morning, it’s a miracle I could put on eyeliner.
Today was “Burn 2.” Why this was so much more difficult than “Burn 1,” I have no idea. I’m inclined to blame the extra push-ups. I’m really curious about tomorrow’s “insane” workout… I mean, not curious enough to look ahead of time… I know better than that. I would snooze myself until Sunday, if not sometime in July, to avoid it, probably.
And speaking of snooze, I really should have opted for one this afternoon instead of visiting that still sadly mistakenly self-important sister of mine, but I was really excited to tell her I had vegetables for lunch. And some congratulations I got.
“Guess what?! I had broccoli for lunch! Aren’t you proud?”
“Yes. What else did you have?”
“Just tri-tip and broccoli casserole.” I grinned, pleased with myself.
“Hold on…you had Mom’s broccoli casserole?”
“Yep! There’s some left – you want it?”
“Ummmm, do you have any idea how much FAT is in that?”
“It’s bro-cco-li casserole…” I said it real slow so she could understand what I was trying to tell her.
“Yeah, and there’s a half a CUP of mayonnaise in it! And cheddar cheeeeese. Aaaaaand cream of chicken soup!”
“I didn’t eat a half a cup of mayonnaise.”
“Let’s look it up.”
“Let’s not.”
And so went our conversation until I was forced to sit there and wait like a little kid on time-out for her to finish rattling off (and looking up) all the bad things about my vegetable- and protein-rich lunch.
“What are you having for dinner?” she continued.
“I’m meeting a friend.”
“Where are you going?”
I paused, unsure of whether to tell her the truth or not. I went for it.
“Bertha Miranda’s. That’s allowed.”
She dropped it. Aha! I win. Miraculously, she didn’t recall the place. (It’s pretty much the best Mexican food in town and I was dead-set on a chimichanga, whatever she might say).
Half an hour later she asks, “Where is this Bethesda Matilda’s?”
I laughed for ten minutes. Then, regrettably, I told her. The ethnicity of the food also came about…
“Oh that’s fiiiiine,” she assured me.
I smiled. But it faltered as the look on her face transformed.
“You’re gonna die tomorrow anyway! Happy eating!”
I let a small groan escape.
“You better post all your blogs when you get home,” Laura added. “You say goodbye to your friends tonight!!”
O.K., well…so long!
Chalean says I’m worth it. She says I deserve this hour. My God, what have I done?? If I’m going to die tomorrow, then so be it. I don’t think I can walk without looking like Parkinson’s patient. I’m serious. I was so shaky this morning, it’s a miracle I could put on eyeliner.
Today was “Burn 2.” Why this was so much more difficult than “Burn 1,” I have no idea. I’m inclined to blame the extra push-ups. I’m really curious about tomorrow’s “insane” workout… I mean, not curious enough to look ahead of time… I know better than that. I would snooze myself until Sunday, if not sometime in July, to avoid it, probably.
And speaking of snooze, I really should have opted for one this afternoon instead of visiting that still sadly mistakenly self-important sister of mine, but I was really excited to tell her I had vegetables for lunch. And some congratulations I got.
“Guess what?! I had broccoli for lunch! Aren’t you proud?”
“Yes. What else did you have?”
“Just tri-tip and broccoli casserole.” I grinned, pleased with myself.
“Hold on…you had Mom’s broccoli casserole?”
“Yep! There’s some left – you want it?”
“Ummmm, do you have any idea how much FAT is in that?”
“It’s bro-cco-li casserole…” I said it real slow so she could understand what I was trying to tell her.
“Yeah, and there’s a half a CUP of mayonnaise in it! And cheddar cheeeeese. Aaaaaand cream of chicken soup!”
“I didn’t eat a half a cup of mayonnaise.”
“Let’s look it up.”
“Let’s not.”
And so went our conversation until I was forced to sit there and wait like a little kid on time-out for her to finish rattling off (and looking up) all the bad things about my vegetable- and protein-rich lunch.
“What are you having for dinner?” she continued.
“I’m meeting a friend.”
“Where are you going?”
I paused, unsure of whether to tell her the truth or not. I went for it.
“Bertha Miranda’s. That’s allowed.”
She dropped it. Aha! I win. Miraculously, she didn’t recall the place. (It’s pretty much the best Mexican food in town and I was dead-set on a chimichanga, whatever she might say).
Half an hour later she asks, “Where is this Bethesda Matilda’s?”
I laughed for ten minutes. Then, regrettably, I told her. The ethnicity of the food also came about…
“Oh that’s fiiiiine,” she assured me.
I smiled. But it faltered as the look on her face transformed.
“You’re gonna die tomorrow anyway! Happy eating!”
I let a small groan escape.
“You better post all your blogs when you get home,” Laura added. “You say goodbye to your friends tonight!!”
O.K., well…so long!
A reprieve
Feb. 3, 2010
I’m sore. I had a feeling that feeling fine all day yesterday was a façade. But hey, at least my eyes weren’t swollen shut and I didn’t have to get a shot in my ass – er, hip. (No, I don’t think that will get old too fast).
If you can believe my luck, I actually had a scheduled day off today! I get two a week. Not together, though, like a weekend – guess that would be detrimental to the program, as it wouldn’t take me very long to talk myself into an extended weekend…or sick days…vacation… “mental health” days…floating holidays… And I was pretty stoked about my day when I awoke at a (relatively speaking) pleasant 7:30 instead of 6:15, but it was doubly nice to wake up to country twangs instead of the backbeat techno junk on Chalean the Mean’s DVD.
Not much to say today, other than it was so relaxing, I don’t really want to go to sleep tonight because it will make tomorrow morning come that much faster.
Well, actually, that’s a lie. There was one interesting thing I learned today: the side effects of Prednisone (Laura’s anti-swelling drug for her Michelin eyes). Do you know, that’s a delightfully entertaining drug?? I kid you not, the following are on the list: mistaken feelings of self-importance or being mistreated, false sense of well-being, excitement... Finally, explanations for her behavior! Only…she just took her first pill today…curious, I know.
I’m sore. I had a feeling that feeling fine all day yesterday was a façade. But hey, at least my eyes weren’t swollen shut and I didn’t have to get a shot in my ass – er, hip. (No, I don’t think that will get old too fast).
If you can believe my luck, I actually had a scheduled day off today! I get two a week. Not together, though, like a weekend – guess that would be detrimental to the program, as it wouldn’t take me very long to talk myself into an extended weekend…or sick days…vacation… “mental health” days…floating holidays… And I was pretty stoked about my day when I awoke at a (relatively speaking) pleasant 7:30 instead of 6:15, but it was doubly nice to wake up to country twangs instead of the backbeat techno junk on Chalean the Mean’s DVD.
Not much to say today, other than it was so relaxing, I don’t really want to go to sleep tonight because it will make tomorrow morning come that much faster.
Well, actually, that’s a lie. There was one interesting thing I learned today: the side effects of Prednisone (Laura’s anti-swelling drug for her Michelin eyes). Do you know, that’s a delightfully entertaining drug?? I kid you not, the following are on the list: mistaken feelings of self-importance or being mistreated, false sense of well-being, excitement... Finally, explanations for her behavior! Only…she just took her first pill today…curious, I know.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Characters welcome
Feb. 2, 2010
Today was the real kickoff. I got a week off right there after the first two days! Can you believe it? Neither could I – way too good to be true, as always. Apparently those first two days last week were just introductory torture methods…to get me pumped and motivated. Obviously. I guess the term “flight risk” never occurred to anyone but me. Oh and my new diet has now begun as well. Master Laura has printed and color-coded my new schedule (meals included) for the next month! It’s Burn Month. On Friday, she has me scheduled to die. Literally. It’s right there in black Sharpie on the top of my list of things to do. (I’m also scheduled to be terminated the two Fridays following this one…exciting stuff!) So, if you’re sending flowers, I don’t care for pink, roses are overrated (though always appreciated) and my favorites are either lilies or orchids.
As for this morning, I was sweetly serenaded out of my sleep by that really awful buzzing only a cell phone provides at such ridiculous hours of the day. “WAKE UP” read the text. Followed by, “Get your ass out of bed NOW!” – to which I lazily thumbed back “yeah yeah” and rolled over. I set my own alarm, thanks, and that was 15 more minutes of bliss away!
I threw on a sports bra, some Spandex shorts and my tennis shoes. Then I reluctantly put in the DVD and pressed “Play.” Chalean is not only a sadist, it seems, but she’s a cheery one! If there’s one thing worse than dragging myself out of bed before 7 a.m., it’s to exercise. And if there’s one thing worse than that, it’s to have some perky chick telling me what to do like I should be enjoying it as much as I would a chocolate doughnut (with sprinkles, of course)…about three hours later.
I have to admit, though, this wasn’t nearly as bad as my introduction. I hadn’t just run two miles and I had had time to let my muscles grow back. I’m actually feeling sort of O.K. as I sit here and type. Tomorrow, we shall see. But Chalean says, “Hard work doesn’t just build muscle – it builds character!” I guess I’ll be welcome to star on TBS now.
But I have to tell you about last night before I sign off today. Last night, we were scheduled to eat fish. Laura has made our schedules compatible enough that we can eat meals together – although this is most likely just a ploy to get me to eat what she has prescribed. And fish is most definitely nowhere near the top of my list of favorite food items; I was not very excited. However, we did our shopping together – fish is cheap, by the way!! I had no idea. So we settled for sole. I guess this is a pretty common fish. We found tons of recipes and went with one that called for white wine and onions and stuff.
Yeah, turns out, that is not the easiest fish to cook. Before we even baked it, it looked bad. When it made it to our plates, it looked worse. (If you had seen it in the pan, you would have wondered how it was possible, but believe me, it was). The two of us managed to shovel it down, but her boyfriend couldn’t quite muster the strength. And neither could the dog. This should have tipped us off.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until a half hour later, when Laura’s eyelids were so swollen she looked like a relative of the Michelin Man, that we realized that that fish was baaaaaad. Well, bad for her anyway. I was fine. Good karma though…which is what I was thinking the entire next morning…all the way to the Urgent Care center where the drill master and diet grinch had to take it in the ass. Muahaha. (She’s fine, now. I’m not thaaat evil).
Today was the real kickoff. I got a week off right there after the first two days! Can you believe it? Neither could I – way too good to be true, as always. Apparently those first two days last week were just introductory torture methods…to get me pumped and motivated. Obviously. I guess the term “flight risk” never occurred to anyone but me. Oh and my new diet has now begun as well. Master Laura has printed and color-coded my new schedule (meals included) for the next month! It’s Burn Month. On Friday, she has me scheduled to die. Literally. It’s right there in black Sharpie on the top of my list of things to do. (I’m also scheduled to be terminated the two Fridays following this one…exciting stuff!) So, if you’re sending flowers, I don’t care for pink, roses are overrated (though always appreciated) and my favorites are either lilies or orchids.
As for this morning, I was sweetly serenaded out of my sleep by that really awful buzzing only a cell phone provides at such ridiculous hours of the day. “WAKE UP” read the text. Followed by, “Get your ass out of bed NOW!” – to which I lazily thumbed back “yeah yeah” and rolled over. I set my own alarm, thanks, and that was 15 more minutes of bliss away!
I threw on a sports bra, some Spandex shorts and my tennis shoes. Then I reluctantly put in the DVD and pressed “Play.” Chalean is not only a sadist, it seems, but she’s a cheery one! If there’s one thing worse than dragging myself out of bed before 7 a.m., it’s to exercise. And if there’s one thing worse than that, it’s to have some perky chick telling me what to do like I should be enjoying it as much as I would a chocolate doughnut (with sprinkles, of course)…about three hours later.
I have to admit, though, this wasn’t nearly as bad as my introduction. I hadn’t just run two miles and I had had time to let my muscles grow back. I’m actually feeling sort of O.K. as I sit here and type. Tomorrow, we shall see. But Chalean says, “Hard work doesn’t just build muscle – it builds character!” I guess I’ll be welcome to star on TBS now.
But I have to tell you about last night before I sign off today. Last night, we were scheduled to eat fish. Laura has made our schedules compatible enough that we can eat meals together – although this is most likely just a ploy to get me to eat what she has prescribed. And fish is most definitely nowhere near the top of my list of favorite food items; I was not very excited. However, we did our shopping together – fish is cheap, by the way!! I had no idea. So we settled for sole. I guess this is a pretty common fish. We found tons of recipes and went with one that called for white wine and onions and stuff.
Yeah, turns out, that is not the easiest fish to cook. Before we even baked it, it looked bad. When it made it to our plates, it looked worse. (If you had seen it in the pan, you would have wondered how it was possible, but believe me, it was). The two of us managed to shovel it down, but her boyfriend couldn’t quite muster the strength. And neither could the dog. This should have tipped us off.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until a half hour later, when Laura’s eyelids were so swollen she looked like a relative of the Michelin Man, that we realized that that fish was baaaaaad. Well, bad for her anyway. I was fine. Good karma though…which is what I was thinking the entire next morning…all the way to the Urgent Care center where the drill master and diet grinch had to take it in the ass. Muahaha. (She’s fine, now. I’m not thaaat evil).
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
YOU burn one
January 25, 2010
So, yesterday was hard. But today, I'm completely immobilized. When drill sergeant Laura yanked off my covers this morning, I had every intention of jumping out of bed in mock salute. Unfortunately, not only did my legs stop working overnight, the rest of my body cringed at the slightest twitch of muscles. Jesus Christ, I can't remember ever having been this sore! It takes every last ounce I have to walk in an upright position!
And so I half crawled, half dragged myself to the living room to greet Chalean. Laura assured me we were only doing a 20-minute workout today. It's called "Burn 1."
Good joke. First of all, it was 40 minutes. And secondly, I burned a hell of a lot more than one!!
Oh and when I said that I don't run, I may have forgotten to mention that I am also of the opinion that the Devil spawned push-ups, too.
"You wouldn't last 10 minutes in the military!" I was gently reminded.
"Shoot, I don't think I'd last five..."
New goal: be able to last seven minutes in the military. (I'm fairly certain I'll still prefer seven minutes in Heaven when this is all over).
So, yesterday was hard. But today, I'm completely immobilized. When drill sergeant Laura yanked off my covers this morning, I had every intention of jumping out of bed in mock salute. Unfortunately, not only did my legs stop working overnight, the rest of my body cringed at the slightest twitch of muscles. Jesus Christ, I can't remember ever having been this sore! It takes every last ounce I have to walk in an upright position!
And so I half crawled, half dragged myself to the living room to greet Chalean. Laura assured me we were only doing a 20-minute workout today. It's called "Burn 1."
Good joke. First of all, it was 40 minutes. And secondly, I burned a hell of a lot more than one!!
Oh and when I said that I don't run, I may have forgotten to mention that I am also of the opinion that the Devil spawned push-ups, too.
"You wouldn't last 10 minutes in the military!" I was gently reminded.
"Shoot, I don't think I'd last five..."
New goal: be able to last seven minutes in the military. (I'm fairly certain I'll still prefer seven minutes in Heaven when this is all over).
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Stretching is for pussies
January 24, 2010
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions anymore. I never keep them, so what’s the point? It’s just a list of pre-set future disappointments for the year. Yet somehow, I got inspired this year. It’s not just a new year, this is a new decade! And I will it to be mine! The world will most likely not end in 2012, and by then I’ll be approaching 27. It’s now or never. So I’ve enlisted the absolute best – and by “best,” I mean, the most hardcore, brutally honest, no-holds-barred, lifestyle pusher I know – to be my motivational coach: my sister. You might think I’m exaggerating, but if you knew her, you’d cut me some slack. Don’t get me wrong, she really is the best – in the Merriam Webster sort of definition, too!
So, what kind of resolution needs this kind of borderline abuse to get me going? The only kind to make! Exercise. Of course. (Insert shudder here). I’m serious. The word alone elicits very bad feelings and lists longer than the Harry Potter series of reasons not to do it. Although, to be fair, I can come up with a pretty lengthy list to not do a lot of things…
But, as I said, I picked the most tyrannical leader to help me. And, well, it worked.
As luck would have it, this is the weekend she picked to begin her reign of terror on my body. This is also the weekend where I have, for the past two nights, not gotten more than a combined total of 10 hours of sleep. So, when 7:30 rolled around this morning and the incessant buzzing of her phone kept on, I begged for half an hour more. She begrudgingly obliged, but when we finally got out the door at 8:12, the new rules were laid out.
1. No snooze button – from now on.
2. We WILL be ready the night before – from now on.
3. We WILL be in bed by 10 p.m. and up at 7 a.m. – from now on.
Today, we started off with a run. Let me be clear about this from the start – I don’t run. And it’s not just that I hate it. It hates me. It hates my knees and my lungs and whatever muscles connect my hips to my legs. But that’s not a problem, my sister says. I suppose this is also the year where I learn to give things I formerly hated a new chance. I have a sneaky suspicion there will be a lot of that…ugh, tomatoes.
So, we arrived at the trailhead around 8:20. I dragged myself out of the car and asked her where we were going to stretch. (I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know a lot about exercise routines, but I’m fairly certain that every P.E. class I had started out with stretching of some kind).
Laura’s response: “Rule number four: Stretching is for pussies.” Oh boy.
I can tell this is going to be a long morning. Scratch that, this is going to be a long year.
And off we go. I did all right for the first quarter mile or so, when I stupidly asked if we could take a walking break at some point.
Laura’s response: “Rule number five: Breaks are for pussies.” Of course.
So I kept running. And running. And running. Until the next five minutes felt like it had been forever and my chest threatened to collapse inside of me.
So I panted, “Could…we…maybe…just take…a little…walking…break?”
She mulled it over for half a second before offering what she felt was a great deal for me.
“I’ll tell you what, we can walk the WHOLE way back if you run to the end.”
Sweet! “How far is the end?” I wasn’t about to be suckered.
“Ohhhh…” She looked at her phone clock. “About 18-20 minutes.”
HAH! “Uhh…well…see, I…don’t…need…to…walk…the WHOLE way…back…”
“You can do it!” She pressed.
I couldn’t. I dropped my trot to a crawl less than a quarter of a mile later. She got a little way ahead and I caught up, alternating my crawls and trots for another mile. At one point, I completely lost sight of her. When I got to the “end,” she gave me a high-five and told me how impressed she was. I stood there panting, tongue lolling, eyes bugged, and gaped at her.
“Well, I really didn’t think you’d make it as far as you did. Good job!”
And we began to walk back. (I didn’t mention that I had bailed on the deal). She knew that. Obviously. When we got to the next mile marker, she decided that, impressed as she was, I could wow her a little more by running back to the car. The whole way. Which, shockingly, I did. Almost stride-in-stride with her! Upon reaching the car, I tumbled into the seat, wanting only water and a cushy place to crash. There was no water.
“You know what the hardest part of exercise is?” my sister had asked on the last stretch of our run.
“Doing it,” I replied.
“Putting your shoes on,” she corrected. “Once you put your shoes on, you know you gotta do something.”
Good point. I gotta get rid of some shoes.
When we got back the house, she announced my great feats, and dragged me into the living room to join co-conspirator Chalean Johnson, who was now going to punish my abdominal muscles like they’d just gone to jail for murder. Super.
After that, I was allowed breakfast. Complete with half of my least favorite foods. But I was not allowed to wash anything down with orange juice. Crazy lady!
And after breakfast, we got to stretch! I knew we needed to squeeze that in somewhere…I just didn’t think it would be 20 minutes of something called “recharging” exercise, where the main point is to humiliate one’s lack of flexibility.
Now that it’s all over, and I’m sitting here, two blinks from sacking out where I sit, I guess I can be thankful. She IS what I need, what I…want. (I also desperately wanted the chocolate frosting my mom made, but that was off-limits. Apparently).
We’ll see about that. I didn’t ask for a diet. I thought exercise was that thing you do to balance out the good food? So much to learn. I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow. On second thought, maybe I ought to jumpstart my obituary. Check those first.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions anymore. I never keep them, so what’s the point? It’s just a list of pre-set future disappointments for the year. Yet somehow, I got inspired this year. It’s not just a new year, this is a new decade! And I will it to be mine! The world will most likely not end in 2012, and by then I’ll be approaching 27. It’s now or never. So I’ve enlisted the absolute best – and by “best,” I mean, the most hardcore, brutally honest, no-holds-barred, lifestyle pusher I know – to be my motivational coach: my sister. You might think I’m exaggerating, but if you knew her, you’d cut me some slack. Don’t get me wrong, she really is the best – in the Merriam Webster sort of definition, too!
So, what kind of resolution needs this kind of borderline abuse to get me going? The only kind to make! Exercise. Of course. (Insert shudder here). I’m serious. The word alone elicits very bad feelings and lists longer than the Harry Potter series of reasons not to do it. Although, to be fair, I can come up with a pretty lengthy list to not do a lot of things…
But, as I said, I picked the most tyrannical leader to help me. And, well, it worked.
As luck would have it, this is the weekend she picked to begin her reign of terror on my body. This is also the weekend where I have, for the past two nights, not gotten more than a combined total of 10 hours of sleep. So, when 7:30 rolled around this morning and the incessant buzzing of her phone kept on, I begged for half an hour more. She begrudgingly obliged, but when we finally got out the door at 8:12, the new rules were laid out.
1. No snooze button – from now on.
2. We WILL be ready the night before – from now on.
3. We WILL be in bed by 10 p.m. and up at 7 a.m. – from now on.
Today, we started off with a run. Let me be clear about this from the start – I don’t run. And it’s not just that I hate it. It hates me. It hates my knees and my lungs and whatever muscles connect my hips to my legs. But that’s not a problem, my sister says. I suppose this is also the year where I learn to give things I formerly hated a new chance. I have a sneaky suspicion there will be a lot of that…ugh, tomatoes.
So, we arrived at the trailhead around 8:20. I dragged myself out of the car and asked her where we were going to stretch. (I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know a lot about exercise routines, but I’m fairly certain that every P.E. class I had started out with stretching of some kind).
Laura’s response: “Rule number four: Stretching is for pussies.” Oh boy.
I can tell this is going to be a long morning. Scratch that, this is going to be a long year.
And off we go. I did all right for the first quarter mile or so, when I stupidly asked if we could take a walking break at some point.
Laura’s response: “Rule number five: Breaks are for pussies.” Of course.
So I kept running. And running. And running. Until the next five minutes felt like it had been forever and my chest threatened to collapse inside of me.
So I panted, “Could…we…maybe…just take…a little…walking…break?”
She mulled it over for half a second before offering what she felt was a great deal for me.
“I’ll tell you what, we can walk the WHOLE way back if you run to the end.”
Sweet! “How far is the end?” I wasn’t about to be suckered.
“Ohhhh…” She looked at her phone clock. “About 18-20 minutes.”
HAH! “Uhh…well…see, I…don’t…need…to…walk…the WHOLE way…back…”
“You can do it!” She pressed.
I couldn’t. I dropped my trot to a crawl less than a quarter of a mile later. She got a little way ahead and I caught up, alternating my crawls and trots for another mile. At one point, I completely lost sight of her. When I got to the “end,” she gave me a high-five and told me how impressed she was. I stood there panting, tongue lolling, eyes bugged, and gaped at her.
“Well, I really didn’t think you’d make it as far as you did. Good job!”
And we began to walk back. (I didn’t mention that I had bailed on the deal). She knew that. Obviously. When we got to the next mile marker, she decided that, impressed as she was, I could wow her a little more by running back to the car. The whole way. Which, shockingly, I did. Almost stride-in-stride with her! Upon reaching the car, I tumbled into the seat, wanting only water and a cushy place to crash. There was no water.
“You know what the hardest part of exercise is?” my sister had asked on the last stretch of our run.
“Doing it,” I replied.
“Putting your shoes on,” she corrected. “Once you put your shoes on, you know you gotta do something.”
Good point. I gotta get rid of some shoes.
When we got back the house, she announced my great feats, and dragged me into the living room to join co-conspirator Chalean Johnson, who was now going to punish my abdominal muscles like they’d just gone to jail for murder. Super.
After that, I was allowed breakfast. Complete with half of my least favorite foods. But I was not allowed to wash anything down with orange juice. Crazy lady!
And after breakfast, we got to stretch! I knew we needed to squeeze that in somewhere…I just didn’t think it would be 20 minutes of something called “recharging” exercise, where the main point is to humiliate one’s lack of flexibility.
Now that it’s all over, and I’m sitting here, two blinks from sacking out where I sit, I guess I can be thankful. She IS what I need, what I…want. (I also desperately wanted the chocolate frosting my mom made, but that was off-limits. Apparently).
We’ll see about that. I didn’t ask for a diet. I thought exercise was that thing you do to balance out the good food? So much to learn. I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow. On second thought, maybe I ought to jumpstart my obituary. Check those first.
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