Operation Tanline Has Commenced

UGH!

I HATE strength training. And it's a total vanity issue. I have been comfortably between 132 and 134 all summer long. I can do cardio until my legs detach from my body and run laps by themselves.

Operation Tanline is in full swing. I have sucked it up and spent 1.5 hours at the gym 5-6 days a week. (3) 20 minute sessions of cardio with core and strength inbetween.

I feel.... fucking.fabulous.

The little problem I have with all of this is the fact that the moment I start strength training, I gain 3 pounds. 3 measely little pounds that I know has nothing to do with fat or calories, but water and muscle.

It drives me batty.

This is why I will always regret never measuring inches lost, only pounds. I will never really know exactly how much more space I have in the place where my batwings nearly lifted me into flight. I will never know how much is gone from the thighs that could have started a fire. I will reccommend to anyone trying to lose to start with measurements. I just may have to start now.

Now, if only I could sit down in a 2 piece without my stomach looking up and smiling at me. Unfortunately, it will require a visit to the surgeons office....

Someone write me a requiem.

Listening to: Taps

So. With this final preseason Bronco game finishing up and Husker season so close I can smell the sweaty players, I have been officially deemed.... a football widow. I always thought that it was just the cutest little moniker given to those adorable, make-you-sick couples where the boy gets sucked into whatever game is on and the girl waits patiently beside him, holding the buffalo wings and fetching Coors.

Fuck that noise.

Look. I am a Colorado Buffalo. Do you know what that means to me? Absolutely nothing! I am from Colorado, I cheer for the Buffs. I go to school in the CU system, I cheer for the Buffs. I do not follow the going ons of training camp, nor do I have a clue as to who the starting quarterback is (Ross would say this merely proves that I am, in fact, a Buff). I don't bleed black and gold. I can sing the fight song, but that's only because that was the school song for my high school. I know that Gary Barnett is better somewhere else than here and Jeremy Bloom is hot.

But I have been dragged into this really bizarre universe where all the walls are painted Cornhusker Red. I thought it was really sweet when Ross and I started dating and it would be weeks in between dates because he was driving back to Lincoln for games (but God bless his little heart, he hasn't been back for one since).

Little did I know.

I had no idea that I would be sitting in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska, surrounded by rabid husker fans, when the question would arise.... "Where do you go to school, Jen?"

"CU"

I'm pretty sure my picture is still on a voodoo doll and they are preparing Ross for excommunication from the Church of Crazy Fandom.

They find out where I'm from and, for some bizarre reason, they either scream at me or make gay jokes. But it's nice to know that I could run over their grandmothers and my defense would always be, "I can't help it. I'm a Buff".

I'm only trying to psych myself up for an impending trip to the red planet (and I don't mean Mars), where a game will be commencing during a wedding we are attending, which I'm learning is a true exercise in ego on the bride and groom's part.

And I'm wearing the most glorious black dress where the neckline falls to my bellybutton.

But that's ok, because I'm a Colorado Buffalo.

OMG. That dinner rocked.

Listening to: Jet Airliner, Steve Miller Band.


I've been sucked back into the gym. And that's ok.

Really. It is. I don't know what it is about a machine that makes me feel like I've had a more worthwhile workout, but I feel more effective. And plus, it's going to be like a 8000 degrees today... Ross wants to try a 5k on the track to see what my time would be. I think he has dropped his basket. He is a great motivator, though.

So. I need a crystal ball. I really need to know how long I will be keeping this weight off. While I don't picture myself going back to the old way of living and this is maintainable, I spent my entire life never EVER seeing myself as NOT being overweight. There is a real conflict of interest here. Before, I was a thin girl in a big girl body. Now, I still feel like the thin girl in a thin girl body, but a little piece of me is waiting for the rope to run out.

I also had a weird experience this weekend. I was getting seriously burned out. I ate- literally- watever the hell I wanted. I had mashed potatos with roasted beef tenderloin followed by more than a bottle of wine (sooooo worth it, Erin- that was a balst!), capping off the night (or early morning), with pizza. I proceeded to wake up and go directly to Breuggars (well, I sent Ross, isn't that the same?) for an onion breakfast bagel. I just stopped worrying. I won't even get into dinner.

I know. The begginning of the end. But maybe not.

I never for one second thought that it would or could continue like this. It was going to end Sunday and it did. Just like that. Back on plan. I feel satisfied. Satiated. No desire remains (except for chocolate but it's THAT TIME). For me, one weekend of bagels and pizza does not an 80 pound gain make. It's when I start to look foward to next weekend or my next treat that we have a problem. And I'm not. I look back on that fabulous weekend and that night on the town and relish in the fact that I have hit that magical place where I can have a bagel every once in a while and enjoy the hell out of it... and that it doesn't lead to another one. I'm back down to normal (weight wise) and had an excellent start to the week (workout wise).

I am, as they say, moving on.

Parents? Please tell me why you suck so much?

I love your kids. They make me smile every day. When they are here at my work, I go to great lengths to keep them safe while not overstepping my bounds.

I have iced "bumps" that didn't require ice, but a time out from an intense skate. I have sat with them for afternoons when you have forgotten to pick them up. I have butterflied foreheads and chins that have been split from end to end.

Sometimes, they drive me nuts. When they are not where they're supposed to be and instead playing dangerously close to an active zamboni, please note that I chase them off for their own good (and for my piece of mind). When they are hanging off of a wobbly alluminum railing, I ask them in my "nice" tone to not do that because I don't want them to get hurt. I would much rather get yelled at by you for doing my job than getting screamed at by you when I don't and someone gets hurt.

And when you, at 40 years old, throws a temper tantrum because I won't let you play hockey in jeans and a sweatshirt and then go on to berrate me because I asked your daughter to not hang off of said alluminum rail, what are you telling your child? That's it's ok to treat people like dogshit when you don't get your way? Well, you didn't end up getting your way, the police were called, you were removed, and you still acted like an infant..... in front of your children.

Nice.

And to you, parent, who let's your child backtalk and insult our staff and run wild, do NOT leave it up to me to discipline your brat. And don't offer me a stick to beat him with either... it's not going to happen.

For whatever reason, you have traded parenting with game consoles, or have hit the other extreme and leave him in the care of others in the form of 100 hours a week in activities.

Listening to: Franck, Symphony in D Minor, Mvm't 2

I ran on a treadmill weathered..... in public.... at a snooty gym....

I lived! No injuries! No fits of violence over sorostitutes! I kept up my pace and focus and it felt really good. Running has been hard lately. I've been able to pull around 4 runs a week, mostly on the track or in the neighborhood and Im very aware of how tired my legs have seemed. It was nice to see an end to that hurdle yesterday. I want to quit my job more than anything and I know that if I just *quit*, things have a strange way of just working out.... but this damn all access gym membership. It's almost worth hanging on to one stupid shift/week. And I don't want Joe Sakic to miss me... I have also obtained the title, "Official Celebrity Liaison" at work (well, I gave myself that title, but who cares?).... we shall see, eh?

I've also been supplementing my morning with lentils to get in some protein and keep me full for a 10 hour shift.

It's looking up. It better stay that way. *****knock on wood*****

Are you a food snob?

Because I am.

I think that Jr. bacon cheeseburger I had several weeks ago that disgusted me so much I cried and threw it across the room is a fine testament to that.

I didn't used to be this way. I am this way on my own acoord and by my own education. I know things. I know how different my life is now. I know how different I feel now. I know what's in that Big Mac you're eating. There are enough people sitting in the fast food line, feeding it to their kids, so WTF? Trust me, if I could find away to single handedly bring down the fast food places and the Hostess factory, I would be there, fire bomber at the ready. And it's not even just about the food. You know where I'm going with this.

The fact is, I know it's the fringe. But I know i'm right....



Wait for it.....


For me.


You see, i've been there. I've been enjoying a salad.... hell..... a burger and have felt the stares that echo "should she really be eating that?" Why the fuck would I outright scrutinize what you decide to put in your mouth? How fucking rude is that? Where do I get off?

Except you, Erin, you have put me on a mission, you little lost soul, you.

Life is about personal choice. Does your personal decision line up with what you believe? If it doesn't, time to re-evaluate. So far, I'm not doing too bad on that. And I've never said "hey. Put down that milkshake, fatass".

I know there are certain things I can do to affect change in an immediate sense by acting or speaking. Taking a drunk persons car keys and risking being a square by taking their keys is a fine example of this. I will always be that girl.

Besides those situations, it's just me and my example. And I have to be ok with that. Otherwise, I'd be really fucking pissed off all the time.

I can laugh about my self declaration of food snob and deal with the teasing about my "weird" foods and hell, even the fact that I've...... kept this weight off..... because I know what I'm doing is purely good. I have much faith in what I'm doing and it's complete effect on the rest of my life. And if someone else has that faith, why argue with them?



On a side note, Joe Sakic knows me by name and thinks I'm great.

Burnt cookie, anyone?

Listening to Walk The Line, Phoenix, not Cash

I am an idiot of epic proportions today.

I had my first old lady driving mishap..... at the age of 24.

I was leaving the gas station in my old beast of a Montero. Since it is so big I have to stretch to turn around to back out of places. I guess I stretched too much, because my foot wavered to the gas pedal instead of the break.

I went flying over the curb and *almost* into traffic wondering why in the hell my breaks weren't working. I get out and inspect the damage. It's minimal. People stare. The emo kids at the bus stop pointed and laughed. Here I am, in my big girl car and my big girl sunglasses and it's a wonder I can dress myself in the mornings.

It's a burnt cookie kind of day.

Working out? Are you nuts? I don't even want to think about the damage I could incur.

fSo I ended up at the track yeterday instead of the treadmill. I think the treadmill gave me a glorified confidence because when I hit that track I wanted to die... especially when the 300 lb guy with ANKLE weights on passed me...

BUT, nonetheless, I got my 30 minutes and did some weight training afterwards.

Take that, you evil gym with ugly carpet, bland walls and the sorostitutes that stand on the ellipticals and talk on their cell phones.

I have GOT to figure out my breakfast delimma. I have been switching stuff around for months and months trying to find a happy medium between feeling too full and being starving an hour after I eat. Egg whites were too much at 4 am. Now the green juice is filling enough at first, but an hour and half later I'm starving. Time to switch it up a bit.


How exciting am I?

Listening to Swingtown, Steve Miller Band

Time for another switch-up this week.

I have taken 3 days off of running, my longest break since I began. I can feel myself getting into a workout rut, so it's time to NIP IT IN THE BUD! My morning runs are interrupted this week for the Colorado Firefighter and Police game (I'm NOT complaining!), so I may have to look at the inside of that gym afterall- a little sooner than expected as I was hoping to continue my exhile through the end of September.

The weekend eating is going much much better. It's strange how my weekend eating differs from weekdays. I think my body resents holding to any kind of routine and does exactly what it feels like, which is a good thing I think. I notice that I'm not eating terribly, but I'm eating regular meals 1-2 times a day. This would not work during the week, but if I'm not hungry and don't need the brain food, then I'm not going to stuff myself. Still maintaining, still keeping on...

I want my Central Air

I'm sick! Not like, "a little under the weather, could use some more sleep sick", but the kind of sick that you get in elementary school where you throw up for hours one end and just want to die. I don't get sick like this. I haven't been sick like this since childhood! WTF! Ok. So maybe it's because I've been living in a house that normally has 3 children in it and the germs are just EVERYWHERE. Maybe it's because the only cleaning agent I can find is DISHSOAP (I want to douse this house with bleach and let nature run it's course, which in this case would be to die. See what illness does to this tree-hugger?). Or, it could be the swamp cooler. I haven't felt dry in days. Even the carpet feels damp. My wrists are damp. This whole week is damp. I could blame the dog and this odd infestation he seems to have, which I will gladly take him to the vet for, but I wasn't left a number where they could be reached.

Oh mom, where are you with the tray of that wonderful vegetable soup you whip up in 30 minutes and hot Dr. Pepper with lemon?

Maybe I never get sick because I turn into such a whining beast, no?

I wonder if I got on the treadmill I would pass out. I think I'm going to to go home and drink some broth and dry out a bit...

meh.

Ok. So I'm giving myself a reprieve from early morning runs. I'm house/dogsitting, so there is oppurtunity to run with the dog or on their treadmill. I've never actually treadmill run before and was surprised at how easy it was after learning on cement and pavement. There is much more control and less pain, so I'm going to focus on my endurance and stamina. Also, it's time for some new running shoes. I'm in the same sneakers as I was 80 pounds ago. These shoes are DONE. They are stretched out, the arch is gone and the only thing that looks ok are the laces. Runner's Roost is having a huge sale, so maybe I can score some $40 shoes. We'll see.

This house I'm watching this week is full of more chips and crackers and dry goods than I know what to do with to I went to the grocery store to stock up on, you know, edible stuff. I have my moments where all I want is some chips and salsa and wheat thins, but it gets old really fast. I mean, I can't LIVE off of it. The New York Strips in the freezer downstairs, well, that may be the downfall.

And this dog. This dog might be the sorriest creature to walk the earth. God bless them for saving him, but he doesn't bring much to the table. First, he's ugly. Like, slap yo mama ugly. He has these weird bones that stick out of random places and a lazy eye. On a dog! And he's stupid. There is no fetch with this animal. He can't even "come". He's also one of those dogs that isn't content- ever. He whines to go out, 2 minutes later he wants back in. Then he wants back out. It proceeds like this allllllll day. I know we must love all of God's creatures, but there has to be a loophole somewhere....