The Ghost of New Year's Eve Past

Since we are just about to close the book on 2008, I found some treasures from New Year's Eve 2004. Before I get all ready to celebrate the future, it is important to remember the past. So my last entry in 2008 ends with a Polipino fortune cookie saying. Good friends are like bad rashes. They never really go away.(in bed)



I'm TJ Brooker and Kat's boob, and I approve of drive-by photography

Puppies from heaven

I'm feeling kind of sad right now. My aunt had to put down a much loved pet a few hours ago. His name was Butch and he was very much part of our family. My aunt didn't have kids, but she had Butch, and that was more than enough.

I remember as a teenager wrestling with Butchy in the living room. His stinky puppy breath. His big floppy ears slapping at my face. During chilly Christmas seasons, I would snuggle up to his warm barrel body and he'd snuggle right back.

Butch
He loved playing, naps in the sun and bacon. You gotta respect that. We'll miss you buddy.

With a little help from my friends

What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you drag my ass around a park for six miles? Yep, that is what my friends did last night.

You see, months and months ago, I said I was going to walk/run the mini-marathon coming up in 2009. My husband said if I could do six miles by the end of the year, he would do it with me. The kicker here is that my husband knows I am a chronic starter then stopper. I'm sure he thought he would just make the offer and be done with it. He apparently underestimated my girls.

December 28 had come and gone and I had only done about four and a half miles since the offer had been made. During the weekend, we had plans to make the six mile walk, but those plans were thwarted by my overwhelming urge to well, not do it. December 29 was my first day back at work after a week of festivities when I get a call from my favorite mayo mistress Kerri. She lets me know that we are doing the six miles tonight. In all honesty, her call interupted me trying to think of reasons not to go to weight lifting class. I'm pretty sure that was God laughing at me.

I get to Seneca Park where I am met by mayo mistress Kerri, Halladay Celebration and TJ Brooker(showing off her new super cute red hat she got for Christmas.) Later, Heidi the Norweigan bikini team model and Harris Bueller show up with Hunter the wonder puh-pay. We were a full on crew. I was ready to give up after mile two. My girls weren't having it. They pulled my Polipino ass exactly six miles. I have the toe blister to prove it.

Afterwards we headed to my place where my husband showered us with sweet and savory treats. He started with popcorn and followed it up with soup, salad and sandwiches with some mulled cider to wash it down. Soon after, apples and caramel dip with wine. Just when we couldn't take any more, cookies and milk. We were practically begging for mercy by the time he brought out warm apple pie a la mode.

By about midnight my husband tucked me into bed and I fell into a really deep sleep almost immediately. But before I enjoyed my much earned slumber, I reflected on what my friends have done for me. According to this morning's measurements, since October 17, I have lost 1/2 inch on my arms, 3 1/2 inches on my waist, 4 inches on my hips, and 1 and 1/2 inches on my thighs. I'm so blessed to be surrounded by people who cheer me on through my tiniest accomplishments and never judge me for the largest of failures. They make me want to be a better me. They push me to do my best. What they don't know is that if they keep this up, we'll be the same size and I'll be stealing all those bitches' clothes. That's right Miss "Let's sprint the last quarter mile." That Prada skirt is practically in my closet already. Rekinize.

Raving Cravings

Perhaps it is cabin fever setting in on me, but I have had really strong cravings over the past couple of days. Christmas Eve, I HAD to have Chicken Tikka Masala. Christmas Day, a box, no that is not a typo, an ENTIRE BOX of Chips Ahoy.

I have been doing OK on exercise. Yesterday my hubby and I knocked out four miles. On Christmas Eve, I did two miles solo. The food cravings are just ruining it all. When I get a craving, if I do not feed it until it goes away, it will linger, ruining my entire day. I'm like a junkie coming down. I keep thinking about it until it consumes me and I give in.

Sure you might be thinking, just have a few Chips Ahoy, you don't need the entire box. Oh you would be wrong my dear friend. The last cookie in the box is apparently what quiets the voices in my little Polipino head.

I went to see a movie called "The Boy in Striped Pajamas" today. Not exactly the feel good movie of the year. Before I went into the theater, I loaded up with a popcorn(extra butter and salt) and a large cherry coke. There was so much butter in the bag, it seeped through and left a perfect circle of grease(not the John Travolta kind) on my jeans. I treated the stain with baking soda and threw them in the washer. We'll see if the crispy puffs coated in golden melty goodness scored another casuality besides my calorie count for the day.

What's the craving of the hour you ask? Donuts. Sweet, doughy and warm. Maybe they are frosted with chocolate and filled with custard, dipped in milk. Perhaps a simple glazed. You know the feeling I'm having. It is the same one you get when you drive past Krispy Kreme and you see that glowy "hot" light on. If I get there and see you in line, we'll just avert our eyes and pretend we never saw each other. I'm a giver like that.

There is nothing like family

My brother heard I was sad for Christmas, so he made an adult youtube video with my mother's movable Christmas characters. Enjoy.

Pictures from Grand Rapids

My aunt/godmother who was hosting Christmas Day dinner sent me some pictures of her front yard. Apparently they are already way above their average for snow, which is saying something.

Can you see her picket fence?

This would have made a pretty fine snowman.

And in honor of missing my brother.

Feeling Kinda Heavy

It is Christmas Day and it is the first day in three that I haven't started the day with a fit of tears. You see, I had been looking forward to seeing my family in Michigan for about two months. Apparently Mother Nature had different plans.

On Monday night I had already packed for the week. I had made a special trip to Sephora to get supplies for the trip, you know, in case of emergency. We went to the husband's family's house to celebrate an early Christmas as we were going to be in Michigan for the actual day. On the way home from Lexington, I begin to get a slew of calls from relatives in Grand Rapids saying we should probably sit this one out. These are people who think ice skating in SUV's should be an Olympic sport. Seriously, people from Michigan are crazy, but even they said it was too dangerous.

My husband knew how much I had been looking forward to seeing everyone. He had listened to me talk about this being the first Christmas I would spend with my brother in more than eight years. He knew of my plans to build a snowman and drink hot chocolate while drawing eyeliner mustaches on whoever was stupid enough to nap on the couch. He whispered calmly, "If you want to do it, we'll go. We'll make this work." I made a stong and useless attempt to fight back tears as I said "I have to be a grown up. It is too dangerous."

When I got home, I looked up the local weather reports in Michigan. They had closed freeways. Some poor holiday travelers who were on a train took 15 hours to get from Chicago to Grand Rapids. I knew it was right not to go, but my heart is still breaking like I'm a little girl.

My husband is doing his best to keep my spirits up. He surprised me with a diamond and emerald necklace. I'm making him pork tenderloin and mashed potatoes. Most would say this is not a fair trade, but in my defense, he really loves mashed potatoes.

I plan on snuggling with the husband trying to forget that I should be breaking the ornaments on my mom's tree, stealing my brother's Christmas cookies, foot fighting with my aunt for the best seat on the couch and eating pierogi while having a Merry Christmas. Sigh.

Karma Chameleon

Last night I celebrated my chilling three miles with a trip to Halladay Celebration's Turkey, well, celebration. I brought the husband along with me and we ate and ate and ate. I was the picture of glamour as I picked up an entire turkey leg and walked around gnawing happily.

Halladay Celebration gave us a lovely plate to take home with the other turkey leg. After all, it was only right. The other turkey leg would get lonely in my tummy. We are supposed to head over to the husband's mom's house to celebrate Christmas early, so I decided I would snack on my beloved turkey leg before going to eat. I'm like a hobbit. I have second and third breakfast-and I'm only five foot tall-and I don't wear shoes.

So I heat up the turkey leg and show it to my husband singing a song I penned just for the occasion called "This is mine and not yours." I choreographed a little dance that went to my clever tune. As I pulled out the wooden TV tray to enjoy my much earned feast, I got my finger stuck in the joint of the tray and it pinched the crap out of me. I think it almost broke skin.

After my husband got done laughing hysterically, he made up his own little song called "Rub some cream on it and shut up." My song was obviously better. I'm just sayin.

Bring It!

This morning I discovered that my kitteh has super powers. She slept next to me last night. At about 6:30 a.m., my eyes popped open and I was ready for my day. Seeing this, super hero kitteh nuzzled me with her face. I put my hand on her and the soft fuzzy cuteness sucked the energy right out of my body. I was down for the count. Two hours later, my eyes open again and I have to go to the bathroom. This time, she puts her paw on my face. It is warm and I can almost hear the power drain from my limbs. I'm out again for another hour and a half. It was amazing I didn't wet the bed. Now I know that if given the choice, my kitteh will use her powers for evil, just like her mom.

I really didn't want to exercise today and super power kitteh was not helping. Road block #2. I called Brooklyn to see if we were running today. She said it was too cold. Oh boy, she was right. I can't really blame her.

It is about 21 degrees with some nasty winds and I just finished my three mile run/walk. Woo hoo! I still can't feel the front of my thighs and my face has some pretty ugly wind burn, but hey, I made it!

I decided to go to the store and pick up some essentials like gingerbread spice tea, you know, for emergencies. I noticed the lack of sidewalks in my neighborhood as well as a certain lack of regard for pedestrians is ever present in the land of Plainview. At one point I had to lean forward and force my way through the icy gusts. I had to laugh to myself as I remembered my mother telling me of a similar trek to school in the Michigan snow, but I believe her journey was uphill both ways, or so she said.

The exercise gave me a bounce and vigor for the day. My fellow Walgreens shoppers did not share it. They complained about the cold and the traffic and part of me wanted to let them know that I had to walk farther than the parking lot and traffic on foot is worse, but I digress. Venus razor blades are on sale. Score!

I realized on my walk home, carrying a bag full of things I didn't need and a gallon of milk that every little bit makes me stronger and healthier.

My husband was inspired by my efforts when I got home, so he strapped on his gloves, hat and jacket and headed out for a walk. Look at me being all inspirational. I will reward myself with some gingerbread spice tea and a nap with my super hero kitteh.

What a pain in the foot

Today we got up at an ungodly hour(for a Saturday) to go walking in Cherokee Park. It was actually about 35 degrees, so it wasn't brutally cold either. Kerri was running late, so we decided to just start walking because she is super woman and runs and stuff. We had a special guest, Hunter the wonder mutt. He's not much of a tracker as we never found Kerri.

She ran up after we had met up at the cars. No Kerri action while walking, but she joined us for bacon at Sweet and Savory. I felt I needed stength so I got the spinach and artichoke omlette. I highly recommend it.

When I got home I decided that I had some extra energy as I had gotten a boost from my girls, Heidi the Norwegian Bikini team model's beux Harris Bueller and Hunter the wonder mutt. I decided to do a little running in the neighborhood. When I got home, I felt like my heel was going to fall off. The entire bottom of my foot aches soooo baad. Oh well.

All in all today, about 4 miles. Mark it baby!

Ok, I didn't run the whole way. I put Lady Gaga on repeat and just ran during the chorus, but it is a start. Take it Gaga.

Run, Run Rudolph

I finished my first race ever! Hooray! The Reindeer Romp is part of the Polar Bear Grand Prix. I used to make fun of my buddy Blaine for running. Ok, well, I'm not running, so the ridicule will probably continue.

It was at Cherokee park and I had to park almost half a mile away from the start line. That is what we call in Polipino land "bullshit." When I got there I was happy to see TJ Brooker and Heidi the Norwegian bikini team model. They brought their respective dudes.


My husband stayed home because exercising in 25 degree weather is "bullshit." I think he has a point. I was dripping because I sweat like it is my job. Anyway, it actually iced up in my hair.




Heidi's beux Matt walked with me because the other people suck and wanted to run. The term "bullshit" came back into play as we worked our way up the trecherous climb known as "dog hill."

In my opinion, all hills are bullshit. That's the wisdom I gained from toting my ass around the park in sub-freezing weather. Go me.

Holy Awesome Wife Batman

If you read this blog, you know my husband is the bestest. He takes very good care of me. So for his birthday, I ordered him a copy of The Dark Knight because he loves it so. It is pretty bad ass.

I had already pre-ordered a copy from Blockbuster, but he recently got a PS3, so I wanted to get him a Blu-ray limited edition double disc in the Batpod.

Since bootcamp, I've become pretty used to getting up early and going to bed early. A midnight release had become a pretty big deal for me. Halladay Celebration and I both had Angel tree kids to shop for, so we hit Toys R Us. While I'm on subject, check out the frames I painted for them. The little boy is a spiderman fan.


I was pretty excited. Anyway, we go shopping and I head home. I was exhausted. I was sure I wasn't going to make it to the witching hour. I figured I will just get the regular copy later. He didn't need to be surprised.

I made some soup and crawled into bed with my husband. He rolls over and pulls me close. He kisses my forehead and whispers that he loves me. Shit. I wonder if he knows the amount of guilt laid on my little Polipino head. I let him drift into a half sleep and creep out of bed.

It was supposed to be warmer, but apparently, no one told Mother Nature. I know I'm in for about an hour wait outside. I bundle up and head off to Best Buy. When I get there, I can tell I'm about to stand in line with the coolest people on the planet.

Someone starts adjusting the light when I hear someone yell "don't move it or he won't come!" I begin to wonder how many 30 year-old-virgins I'm going to meet. Well, the short answer is: a lot.

I can't judge. I was out there too. I collect my prize and head home. I've never seen my husband so elated. I had to remind him that our wedding day was the best day of his life, not this one. I don't think he was listening, but in his defense, the movie is stunning in Blu-ray. Holla.

One bourbon, one shot, one beer

Let me start out by saying that I don't really drink too much now. Sure there was a time in college when I would have a couple of shots and dance on a bar, but let's face it, my back just can't take the climb anymore.

I was kindly invited to see a screening of a movie called "Dirty Country." It is a documentary about a guy named Larry Pierce. He is a sweet guy who lives in a small town in Indiana and sings dirty, filthy country songs. My favorite is "She makes my peter stand up." It's a love song, can't you tell? Afterwards, Larry sang a few songs for us. The movie was pretty entertaining and the songs were really entertaining. I bought a CD for my husband because the humor is right up his alley.

The movie was shown at Bluegrass Brewing Company and of course, I had a beer. I knew it was a school night, but I figured one wouldn't kill me. That would have been fine had I gone straight home after the show, but someone, we'll call her "bad influence girl," suggests we all go to Stevie Ray's(a nearby bar) for a few drinks. Can you guess which one she is in the picture?


Let me just say, I had the best intentions. I got there and started to order a soda pop. My new friend Stu was buying and insisted I mix something with it. Ok, he was nice enough to invite me. I'll bite. This glass was filled with bourbon lightly colored, nay, barely scented with coke. I begin to sip. Still doing fine.

Larry's wife is a great lady who is just the life of the party. She decides to buy all the girls shots. I figure this is where I should put my foot down and do the responsible thing. That didn't work.

Oh dear. This could be bad. Maybe 10 minutes past and guess what happens again.


Then next morning, I had trouble figuring out if throwing up would make me feel better or not, but soon, my body didn't give me a choice. For those who are laughing at me for being a light weight, read Larry's card.

You said it buddy.

Talk Soup

Growing up in Arizona, I didn't experiece a lot of cold weather. We had basically two seasons. You could tell if it was winter, because more guys wore shirts.

Moving to Kentucky, I must admit I was thrilled to see rain and snow. One of the main reasons is because they are true signs of soup season! I'm a sucker for good soup. Recently, my friend Kerri taught me how to make a crock pot of comfort soup.

I've named it Gallagirl Rocks Soup. I took the name from a tale I loved about making Stone soup. If you don't know the story, a man tricks a village into feeding him by saying he can make soup out of a stone. He puts the stone in a pot of water and keeps saying things like "oh this needs carrots" or "if we only had a little beef, this would be perfect." By the end, the villagers have all contributed to make this heavenly concoction and they all happily dine on said soup.

The reason I'm relating this story to my soup is simply the method in which it is made. I started with meat and tomato sauce. Throughout the week, I eat a bowl and then add another ingredient of left overs to fill up the crock pot, like rice or potatoes or diced tomatoes. It seems to make a different soup each day and each day it becomes more wonderful.

I'm really jonesing to make a batch of corned beef and cabbage. It reminds me of my college roommate Cari. Not because she like it, but because she hated the smell with such passion. My husband says I can only make it when he is not in town. I apparently married the only Irish man on the planet who hates corned beef and cabbage. I must be cursed. Sigh.

Mortal Kombat in the Park with George

The biggest challenge since ending boot camp is staying with some sort of fitness routine. As hard as it was to get up at 4 a.m. each morning, that seems like cake compared to inspiring myself to get up. My friennds and hubby have been super supportive, so I really want to work at it, for them and for me.

I've found a class that I totatlly love at my gym. I'm guessing it is because of the instructor. You may have heard me mention her before in my spinning and group power class. She is punchy and fun with a great sense of humor. She teaches a body sculpting class on Wednesdays and I have convinced myself that it will be a weekly ritual. We'll see how that goes. Afterwards, some people were coming in for the next class which I found out was Zumba. Eh, what the hell, I needed some cardio.

This will be the second time I have regretted staying for the cardio class following. The instructor seemed like she would have been just as happy if we were all just sitting and watching her dance. The steps were not overly complicated, but it was like trying to follow a dance routine without being told what was coming next. It was like the first three times you tried to learn the Oops I did it again dance without being able to pause Britney. Um, not that I've ever done that.

Thursday I did a little action on the resistance band but just enough to get a little tightness. It wasn't really a workout, but at least I didn't just sit on the couch and gorge myself. Well, I mean I didn't do that until AFTER I played with my resistance band.

Saturday the girls wanted to walk at Cherokee Park where boot camp was held. A few are runners, I am not. Again, Halladay Celebration to the rescue. She kept a walker's pace with me. It was snowing at about 26 degrees. I saw a dude wearing a mask that made him look like a character in Mortal Kombat.

My mind drifted to hand to hand combat on the bridge where I defeat the Evil Park Ninja, let's call him George. I fly to the sky and cut him down with my combo death chop. I earn a MK fatality where I rip off his head exposing his spinal cord and then steal the keys to his BMW SUV, cuz let's face it, if you own one, you have that coming to you. Alas, I did none of the above. Instead, I continued to pant and whine about my shoe inserts giving me shin splints.

Next time Evil Park Ninja, next time.

Viva La Resistance!

I bought a resistance band for working out at home. For those who don't know, it is a big rubber band. Yep, that is all there is to it. Yep, I paid money for it. I got the medium resistance band because I felt that if I pay money for it, it should hurt me, although not as much as a maxiumum resistance band. I bathe in self deceit, but even I have my limits.

Last night I did the work out dvd that came with the band. It was ok. I feel a little sore in my arms, but I think once I actually understand what they are doing I'll get better with my form, thus being more effective. For now, the band is doing more for me when I wrap it around my forehead and pretend that I am Rambo. Hey, a girl can dream.

Back in Black

Say what you will, Black Friday is my bag baby. Is it the deals? Is it standing outside in sub-freezing temperatures with strangers? Is it watching the everyday Suzie Homemaker turn into a fire breathing monster over the last hot pink hoodie in a size 6? Well, to tell the truth, for me, it is a little bit of all of the above.

I grazed the ads on Thanksgiving Day to see where I would be collecting frost the next morning. Believe it or not, my destination ended up being Staples. Not Target. Not Macy's. Nope, it was home of the easy button for me. The husband wanted a Bluetooth and they had a really nice $100 one for $50. The bluetooth I was waiting for was on page 2 of the circular. I didn't even need a ticket. Because I was one of the first 5 in line, they let us in before the store opened to get stuff. I was checked out before the store actually opened. I'm guessing the experience was not so good for the hundreds of people waiting to get into Walmart next door.

My next store was Michael's cuz, well, it was next door and it still was not 6am. I gleefully asked a woman in line what we were waiting for. They were all very tight lipped. Suddenly someone lets it slip that there are lighted Christmas trees for 50% off. Wowza....but um, I don't need one. Another woman tells me that she is there for a special cartridge. I squint my eyes and say "well, I'm gonna get them first." She was apparently not in the mood to joke about it. C'mon, the machine itself is like $250, I'm not gonna buy a cartridge just out of spite...or am I? It is in the spirit of Black Friday to destroy the person standing next to you, but instead I stocked up on some paints and stuff.

Then I jotted off to Macy's. It seems as though they have coupons, but they should put in the fine print "you can not use them for anything." I tried to buy perfume. Can't use them in cosmetics. I tried to buy clothes. Can't use them for door buster deals. Anyway, I pick up a $99 Nautica wool top coat (retail $350) for Jeremy. I didn't get to use my coupon there either because you can't use them on outerwear. Seriously, I should have used their circular to make a hut for warmth. It would have done me more good. I trotted on over to my beloved Sephora, but apparently they were not participating the "open before the sun comes up tradition." Bastards. So off to Old Navy I go, cuz really, why not.

I pick up some stuff for my angel tree kids. Can you believe they charge $17 for toddler jeans!!! Good thing they were half off. Old Navy sucked because I was lugging a huge wool coat around on a wooden hanger, which was awkward in the first place, but I now have begun to sweat from the 14 layers of clothing I'm still wearing to guard me from the cold outside. Then there was a guy who was bugging the piss out of me in line. I won't get into all the details of why I wanted to hurt him, but I'll end it with this gem, he was checking out with his friend's debit card and didn't have the PIN, so he was trying to call him on his cell even though the cashier said "no one gets service in here." Oh yeah. He started hmmm and hawing like this was such a huge inconvenience for him. I didn't feel violent because it was Black Friday. This guy is a douche bag no matter what day you are talking about.

Anyway, I digress. Off to Bath and Body Works. No big deals. I walk out, cuz if I'm up before the sun, you need to GIVE ME SOMETHING.

I head home for a little food and to peruse the ads again. I wake up Jeremy and make him try on the coat. He doesn't like that it is 3/4 length not full length. I explain to him that those were already gone. So I head back to da mall and return the coat. I am met by an older man who just doesn't understand why I would COME BACK to the mall. I told him that I had to check Sephora for the Beauty Insider reward. By the way, it totally sucked. C'mon Sephora, get with the game!! I rounded out my day with a little Disney store and Sears action. I left Target for Saturday which is another story all together.

Happy Fat Ass Day

Today we will celebrate eating way too much and planning to spend way too much tomorrow during Black Friday adventures. Yay! If you are my friends TJ Brooker and Halladay Celebration, you are working. Boo!

Last night we all got together to celebrate finishing boot camp. What better way to commemorate a healthier lifestyle than to go to Morton's and gorge ourselves with steak. My friend Renee teased that she had fried turkey at her house when I dropped her off. I told her the only way I could fit it in my dress after dinner was if she shoved it up my ass. She politely declined.

I know that this day is where amateurs sit on the sidelines and have a sliver of turkey breast with no gravy and a side salad. Eff those guys. This is the day where I really shine. I'm currently deciding which "eatin dress" I'll be strapping on for the festivities. It has to look semi nice but have enough elastic to make it to the pumpkin pie stretch. I should just get over it and buy a maternity dress for this day. For those not paying attention, no I am not pregnant.

I got up this morning and ran, eh hem, walked 2 miles. My shins were on fire the entire time. There has to be a better way. Blargh. My left foot keeps cramping up. I'll have to do some stretching before hitting the stores tomorrow. I won't be beat out of a Spiderman action figure by a soccer mom who thinks she has Black Friday down. Rekinize.

Go Kat, it's your birthday

Literally. It is my birthday. The big 31.

The first thing I want to do is give a huge congrats to all my fellow boot campers. Especially my good friend Jessie who shattered her goal of running the mile in 10 minutes. I was so very proud of her. I shaved about 25 seconds off my mile. Not huge, but an accomplishment nonetheless. I added about 12 push ups to my minute, so all in all, not bad. After graduation day, the coaches gave us parting gifts like a set of dog tags and a winter hat then took us all out for some coffee. It was nice to see everyone, you know, not sweating and grunting.

I climbed in my car after coffee and I realized it was over. I can't really say if it was pride or sadness or a combination of both, but I began weeping like a child. I laid my face up against my frosty steering wheel and gave it a good hug while letting out the "nobody's looking ugly cry." It was a nice time to look back at the last year and see all of the wonderful things that have happened. I list boot camp right in there with the rest.

I wanted to keep the momentum going after some really encouraging words from friends, especially the comments on the "Moment of Truth" post and a lovely email from my favorite Jersey Girl, the brand new Mrs. Laughman. I headed to the gym on Saturday for a group weight lifting class. I packed my new confidence and upgraded my weights when I got there. It was really, really tough, but I knew that I could do it. The burning and weak feeling in my arms and legs gave me a high I hadn't had in a while. I wanted to keep it going. I thought it was time to get some cardio in.

I stayed for the step class. Big mistake. The first half hour wasn't bad, but I got lost with all the moves and transitions. I spent the last half hour severely frustrated and walking around in a circle. I couldn't understand and I couldn't follow. I left 10 minutes early. I was amazed that after two hours at the gym, I was feeling deflated and sad. Lesson learned. Step is not for me.

I got home a little embarrassed that one class could bum me out so much. I went home to tell my husband all about it and this is what I found.

He made me a chocolate pudding bundt cake. He says he wanted it to say "boot camp ninja" (the girls called me "Ninja Kat" when I pulled my headband over my mouth and nose to keep from freezing) but the candy letter packet only had one n. Foiled! He would have gotten away with if not for those meddling kids and their stupid dog.

Today, I'm not afraid of 31. I have friends and family who love me and support me. I have a cat who can sleep in the same position for nine hours straight.

What more could one person ask for?

The Moment of Truth

Tomorrow is graduation day for boot camp. I can't believe it has been a month. I had my body assessment last night. It was a little disappointing but the main thing is that I feel better and I'm making steps to be healthier.

I didn't lose any weight. I'm sure my diet had something to do with that. I did however lose an inch off my waist and my hips. My arms went down a little as did my thighs. My calves actually got bigger, but they said that is to expected as the muscle grows. Looking in the mirror, I can see differences. I talked with my husband(nutrition and fitness dude) about my disappointment and he encouraged me to stay on this path and eventually I will see the results I'm looking for. For now, I knew I needed to stay focused on the two days left of boot camp.

more animals

Today was cardio day, so if there was a day to be focused, this was it. It seemed like my heart never got a chance to rest today. We started with fast feet intervals and then moved right into the real work out. It was side shuffle this way, grapevine that way, high knee skip this way. Oh you want more? Jog here, sprint there. I'd like to take this special moment to thank my ruthless friends who told the coach to challenge me to a race on the sprint course. You know who you are, and I know where you live. I gave it my all and won, but let's face it, Mr. Six Foot Three athletic guy let me win. I have no illusions about that. When I heard a whistle, I thought I was saved. Nope. Time for shuttle races.

We lined up in teams and started a relay of sorts. In between we were told to do jumping jacks. Each time I was up, I gave it my all. I tried to recall the words of my runner friends about posture and stride. By the fourth set, all I could think was "don't throw up, don't throw up."

Now to the mats for a cool down. Wrong again. Back to fast feet with burpie/push ups each time the whistle blew. It seemed like these went on forever. Then we moved on to this weird lifting crunch overhead thing. No clue, but it FINALLY ended this workout.

My shins feel like they are bleeding and the bottom of my feet keep cramping up. I know, boo hoo. I need to get my head together. Tomorrow is graduation day and the the mile and push up test. I'm gonna get a good night's rest and kick butt.

Believe it or not, I'm running

I forgot to post yesterday. We did yoga for boot camp in a chilly church. Brooke and Jesse were deeply impressed with my ability to stick my head up my own ass. That means I'm flexible, yo.

Anyway, today was a giggle day. Perhaps we were all laughing to keep ourselves warm in the 25 degree weather. Nope, it wasn't a typo. 28 freakin bone chilling degrees. The coaches kept us moving with hurricane stations. We took turns yelling encouragement or um, heckling in my case, at each other.

I got a flu shot yesterday and my arm was a little sore, but we powered through that stations and each time we finished a set, we were to jog down to the fountain and back. Jessie called out "alright let's go" and suddenly I started just running. I was passing and weaving through fellow boot campers like I was a Mercedes in traffic. Brooke said it looked like I was being chased. It felt really good to finally be the first one to finish something. My heart tried to fly out of my chest, but I think before it cracked my rib cage, it must have realized it was way colder outside my body.

Today I have my body assessment after work to find out if I have lost any weight or inches since joining boot camp. Wish me luck!

The Little Things

It is the first day of the last week of boot camp. I had a hard time sleeping last night. I drifted off at about 1 a.m. and the alarm went off at about 4:30 a.m. Bah! No excuses, no excuses. Normally I would have talked myself out of going, but I had dinner last night at the Kerri Cafe, which means my friend Kerri got her weekly CSA and cooked all the vegetables and me and three fellow boot campers went over and ate them. Hella good, you wouldn't believe it was good for you. Highly recommend Kerri Cafe located inside the Richardson Ranch. Call for reservations and make sure you try the soup.

Anyway, I knew if I didn't show for boot camp, I would have three bad ass chicks knockin at my door wondering where the hell I was. Truth be told, even though Renee is the one we refer to as "Pollyanna," I fear her most when it comes to exercise. Demons I tell you, she has exercise demons! So I layered, layered, layered, and headed out the door.

I don't want to say it was cold, but during the warm up, my nipple cut through the seventy layers I had put on to keep me warm. They seperated us into groups and we had to do exercises like lifting, jump rope, tricep dips, so on and so forth. In between each exercise, one person from the group had to run down to the fountain and get a new exercise card. I am proud to say, I ran both ways! One exercise in particular almost did me in today. You wrap a huge rubber band around your ankles and side step. I had no idea I even had a muscle group where it hurt. I'm wondering how that will affect my walking tomorrow. It was a pretty hard workout and in no time I was shedding layers like I was working the pole.

I left boot camp feeling pretty good about myself, but very tired. I confess, I crawled back into bed for about 15 minutes after I showered.
more animals

Even though I didn't want to get up, I didn't want to go to boot camp or work, I did. I don't have any meetings today, so it was a jeans day. I pulled a pair out of the bottom drawer. The dreaded bottom drawer full of jeans that I can wear if I lay down and wiggle and eventually button to form a huge muffin top. I follow the dressing ritual by trying to find a sweatshirt big enough to disguise it a little. Not today. I slipped them right on and then ziiiiiiip! Oh yeah. They aren't loose, but soon I tell you, soon.

It's Not What You Think

I had a rough day yesterday and instead of calling for support, I drowned my sorrows in some awesomely delicious honey bbq wings...a lot of them. Whatever, I'm just human and Buffalo Wild Wings has something in the sauce that is like crack.

This morning I heard the coaches echoing in my head about "no excuse hour." Sure, it wasn't 5:30 to 6:30 a.m., but the fact of the matter was that I wasn't doing anything but laying in bed. I wasn't even sleeping. Despite the tenderness in my knee, I strapped on the workout gear and headed to the gym for Group Power. For those who don't remember, this is basically weight lifting, but you know, in a group.

I got there and was inspired by my friends Brooke and Jessie who have been pounding heavier weights all boot camp. I loaded up my bar. I was feeling pretty good about it until I saw what the instructor was using. She says she is inching toward 70 years old and her bar was loaded like she was stocking up for the winter. I threw another weight on and lifted it with the hopes that I can look like that at 70.

For the most part, I did ok. The extra weight really kicked my butt during squats and biceps, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much I have improved since joining boot camp. I soared through the chest exercises and even noticed my body being slimmer in the mirror.

As I was looking in the mirror, I noticed a girl looking at me. She was very pretty, very toned and looked like she had been going to the gym all her life. My female insecurity took over. Inside my head I'm calling her every name in the book. I imagine throwing her down and screaming "My fat ass has just as much right to be here as you and even though I'm a biggin', at least I'm trying to change that." After class, she smiles and comes up to me and says "I was just noticing your shirt. What does that mean?" I was thinking to myself,"It means I'm an insecure idiot."

With my confidence back into place, I decide to head to the cardio theater to work on my mile. I know I can't depend on the treadmill for an time count, so I forgoe even looking at time and I powered through a mile and a half at an almost steady jog. They were playing some teeny bopper movie, that secretly I was loving. Poppy music, obnoxious clothes and hairstyles. Count me in.

Joint Affection

Yesterday we got the Voice Tribune and there was an article about a busty Polipino and her man getting hitched. Ah yes, I'm sure people in Louisville are tired of reading about me, but as my dear friend Kerri pointed out, I'M A PR MACHINE!!! Click on the link to see an awesome shot of my boobs...and the story in the paper.

http://www.voice-tribune.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=655&Itemid=25

It is more flattering than the ass shot of me and my friend Jessie pushing a truck at boot camp. Check us out, you have to scroll in about 6 minutes and 30 seconds to see us. I'm the shorty in the blue shirt.


Today we voted on yoga or serpentine circuit training. All the effing over achievers decided we should do the circuit training. Bastards. Lucky for me, it was more weight lifting with just a bit of cardio. Unlucky for me, I hurt my knee on the second station. They were jumping jacks. Seriously, who hurts themselves doing jumping jacks?

I took some ibuprofen and I'm hoping it will start to feel normal again soon. I still went through all the stations almost three times! I was afraid my workout wasn't very good, but when I got home, my t-shirt was drenched. That's sexy talk for "I was sweating like a pig."

I didn't tell the coaches that I hurt my knee because last week I hurt the other knee and at this point, I didn't want to look like a big sissy. So the last running exercise, I pushed myself and actually did a little jog. Well, I'm limping like I spent the weekend in prison, so I must have done a number on it. Dammit. At least I have the weekend to recover.

Dude, weeeeak!

Girl power was in full force today and we all had the giggles. What a great way to start out the day. On the way to boot camp, the 90's channel was rockin LFO, Summer Girls. LFO is ridiculous, but I'm secure enough with myself to say that I freaking LOVE their lyrics. C'mon, they like girls who wear Abercrombie and Fitch. Lyrical genius. For those of you who don't remember, here ya go.


At least it knocked the hampster on a piano song out of my head. If you haven't had the pleasure, make sure you check it out for a definite mood boost.


My friends Jessie, Brooke and Renee kept me laughing through most of the warm up. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty pumped. We got out our weights and mats and I thought it would be smooth sailing as I have always been better with weight training than cardio. Lucky, lucky me. They incorporated both. We began with shoulder presses and just when I thought I couldn't lift the weight one more time, the whistle blew and they called for us to pulse the weight up. This torment continued through tricep lifts, dumbell squats with sprinkles of jumping jacks and burpies in between. I realized at this point how weak I was.

For added fun, we practiced agility by running through cones and rings and other nonsense of the sort. On the upside, I stayed with a slow jog and didn't throw up. Go me.

Back to the mat. It was time to work on abs. Crunches with dumbells. What drunken aerobics bunny dreamed this one up? We followed them with something called a Russian twist. I dated a Russian once. Nice looking but his English needed some work. This exercise was just about as awkward as our first date.

more animals

I left wishing I could hold the planks we did for the full 30 second intervals. Perhaps that will be my goal to hit before boot camps ends. One day and one week left. When it is over, I'll be ready to kick some ass.

more animals

Amazing Polipino

Today was Amazing Race day at boot camp. They gave us a card with several tasks and we had to finish them twice. Jessie was sweet enough to partner up with me, even though I run like I'm stuck in mud. I have been sick and missed boot camp for two days, so needless to say, it was not my finest hour.

My buddies Brooke and Renee were given a road block which meant they had to do additional exercise. In their case, it was giving each other a piggy back ride. Jessie and I watched in horror, secretly praying that we wouldn't get one of those. Jessie is a tall, leggy blonde and even though I think my little legs would have been able to carry her weight, there is a pretty good chance her feet would still reach the ground as I carried her, so it would have looked like she was mounting me. On the flip side, she would have found out how much weight can be packed into a five foot Polipino, and I'm pretty sure she would have cursed the day she met me. As my husband tells me, I'm not little, I'm concentrated.

We didn't finish all the exercises, but I got to write quite a few in my handy dandy exercise/food journal. I knew I could have done more, but still I feel pretty proud for what was accomplished. I really didn't want to get out of bed and start up again, but feeling better about myself will happen one day at a time. Right now, I'm eating grilled squash for lunch instead of a burger. Now that is frickin amazing.

TGI what the F?

Oh how I would welcome the weekend with open arms, if I could only lift them.

We are officially at the end of week two for boot camp. My husband had to go out of town for work last night so I thought it would be nifty to drown my lonliness in my anniversary cake stuffed with chocolate truffle and cream cheese from Gallery House. Holla. Yes, that is what I had for dinner. Don't judge me.

I have been working my butt off at boot camp for two long weeks and dammit I deserved a treat. So at first I picked at it when I passed it. It sat there in our glass cake stand wooing me with its buttercream frosting. I grabbed a fork. I don't know when I decided to fling the utensils to the side, ram my face into the side of its decadent sweetness and just began to chew. Ok, it didn't quite happen like that, but after several slices, I decided the rest of the cake would be better off with the kids next door.

I figured I'd work it off at boot camp this morning. It didn't rain early this morning, so instead of yoga, we were at Cherokee Park for cardio day. What is cardio day? I'm glad you asked. It is apparently a day set aside to see if you can literally run so much you throw up a kidney. I'm convinced the coaches did not get the memo about Friday being a day of rest. Either that or they were not hugged enough as children. I don't want to sound like they are mean. They are actually quite supportive. Everytime you pass one they give you a peppy, "good job." Translated it means "Congratulations on not passing out despite the lack of air in your lungs/blood in your face."

When I got home, I got dressed in a new outfit. I have some new stockings I wanted to try out and I needed a pick me up. I realized that today's workout had actually made my calves swell. For the record, sucking air in sharply does not work the same way for zipping up boots as it does for jeans. Nonetheless, I was looking cute, so I owned it. I even got a compliment on my stockings, but it was short lived as I realized minutes later that my spanx were sticking out from the bottom of my hem. Awesome.

Petty, coat, junk, shun

Have you ever gone to an event and you felt like you were having a really good time, but it was nothing compared to talking about what a good time you had afterwards?

This morning I got up without an alarm. I didn't feel much like moving. The air outside seemed warm, but I still brought a coat. I ended up not needing it. Isn't it supposed to be freakin November? Damn Kentucky weather.

It was "junk yard" day at boot camp. You run through some hurdles, rings, obstacles, sprinting, shuffling, grapevining, more shuffling and then you pick up something from the junk yard. In this case the junk was bananas, granola bars, bottles of water and the like. Then you have to put it all back, but you do exercises depending on what kind of junk you picked up. It may have been one of the most challenging days of boot camp yet. One of the obstacles was pushing a 7500 pound truck! My heart felt like it was going to explode, my lungs were burning and my legs almost gave out during the last run through.

I told my buddy Jessie that I was not speaking to her because she is the one who got me into this mess. I even through out an inappropriate comment during stretching and she almost went all Detroit on me. Which would mean I would have to go all Yuma, Ariz. on her. For those of you who don't know, that means she would kick the crap out of me and I would lay there and sweat and cry. Luckily it was toward the end of boot camp. We were so exhausted, so if she had come after me, it probably would have been the funniest ass kicking I've ever gotten. I should know. With a mouth like mine, I've gotten plenty of ass kickings.

Renee and I carpooled today and the 90's station let us rock out to Candy Rain by Soul for Real and Rush, Rush by Paula Abdul. We discussed the battle between ABC and Kriss Kross "at the playgrouuuuund, that's where I saw this cutie."

When I got home, my husband was rubbing his eyes and just getting out of bed. I couldn't wait to tell him of all my adventures before the sun even came up, but he wasn't having it. He totally blew me off! Fear not, he will be punished. Next time we have intimate time, I'm going all Yuma on his ass.

Back in the Saddle

I'm back at boot camp. I was still half asleep on my drive there this morning. My mom used to let me stay home when history was made. With the new president-elect, I could have totally used a "stay at home" pass today.

I don't think the Boot Camp coaches got the memo. We did a little warm up and then they handed us cards with a list of exercises. My began with jumping jacks. I thought that had to be the worst of it until I noticed my next direction was to run down to the fountain and back. Toe taps, knee skips, high steps, jump rope. I thought this wave of torture would never end.

My body started to revolt. My head felt dizzy, which was quasi amusing as I ducked and jumped from one side of a volley ball net to the next. I was waiting to misjudge my step and clothesline my face on the net. That would have been true comedy in the morning.

The card read Circuit 2x. When I finished the second time through, I felt like an angel had touched my hand and said "it's ok little one, follow us, you can come home now." Nope, that was definitely my imagination. I hear the coach say "grab some water, start it over again."

I wanted to shake her and say "Don't you know we elected a black president!? That means I should be in bed eating cereal and watching the news!" I don't think she would have understood.

There are lots of mixed emotions about the presidential election. I think we had two good men running and one of them won. That is good enough for me. Perhaps I could borrow some of that hope they keep talking about as tomorrow's boot camp promises to be a tough one.

My Husband, The Hero

My husband and I have survived our first year of marriage and what a wild and amazing ride it has been! After we celebrated our first anniversary, I know the best years are yet to come.

Since our anniversary actually fell on Monday, we decided we would celebrate on Saturday. He said he had a day of surprises in store, so I was to dress up and not ask any questions.

We went to my friend Kerri's house where we had some champagne. She was all dressed up too, so I had to assume she was doing something with us. I was then informed that my other friends Renee and Brooke were also in on this deal. (Brooke ended up not being able to come because of a family emergency, but she was missed.) The doorbell rang and outside, a limo was waiting for us. We were introduced to our driver Tom who ended up being a wealth of knowledge about the city of Louisville. Go figure.

Inside the limo were huge gift bags for each of us with our names on them.

They were stuffed with girl treats like chocolate, shampoo, soap, bubble bath, candles, dvds and gift cards to several stores at the Oxmoor Mall, which turned out to be our next destination.


So we sipped on champagne until we got there.
His plan was that we would go on a shopping and get little treats from Macy's, Sephora, Bath and Body Works, and Old Navy. He would meet up with us later.

Check us out at Macy's. Yes, I did wear the tiara the whole time.
I picked up a ring with leaves vining together. It reminded me of the night he proposed with leaves he had picked for me when we first met. He loves me, even though I make faces like this.

After all that shopping, we were pretty hungry. We got back into the limo where there was a bottle of wine chilling and a box of chocolate covered strawberries.

Yum! The white chocolate ones were my favorite.

We devoured them even though we knew we were heading to dinner. I was thrilled to find out we were eating at Morton's The Steakhouse! They even had special menus at our table.

I had steak and lobster.

Renee and Kerri had steak and seafood. There was so much food, but we muscled through and ate our fill, especially the mac and cheese.

The chef gave me a hat, but we agreed the tiara was more fitting.

After an amazing dinner we were off to our next destination. We were all pretty sure we knew where this was ending. Jeremy proposed at The Brown Hotel, we were married at The Brown Hotel. C'mon, I'm slow, but I was pretty sure I knew where we were going.
Sure enough, my darling husband was waiting in front for me.


We said goodnight to the girls and Jeremy and I headed into the hotel.

He had reserved the same room we had for our wedding night and filled it with candles and more wine and champagne.

I lost my camera in all the excitement so I am relying on my friends for these pics. It was truly one of the most wonderful days of my life.

No day is complete without cake. My friend Leah Stewart made us a special cake to eat on the day of our anniversary, but honestly we hacked into that sucker almost as soon as we got it home.


I'm Batman and I approve this message.

In a New York Minute

Today at boot camp we were encouraged to come in costume. The challenge was to find a costume that is fun, but was exercise friendly. I decided to skim my closet and I found my favorite pair of pj pants that have I heart NY all over them.
Here is a pic, it is a little hard to see, but you get the jist.

I also remembered getting a I heart NY t-shirt, because let's face it, that is what you do when you go to NYC. Here is me and my buddy Jessie. She was a hula girl.

And then I drew a clock on my face.


Voila! I was a New York minute. I didn't win the most creative costume (it went to the team captain who came as Captain Crunch) but it was fun. The coaches dressed up like Hans and Frans from SNL and did a little skit for us. It seemed like boot camp was off to a great start. It was even a little warmer than usual. By warmer, I mean 38 degrees. Dare I say balmy 38 degrees?

Then we got to running the mile test. I started off confident and about 20 seconds into it, a fierce side cramp almost stopped me in my tracks. WTF? We hadn't even started. I feared I would be the absolute last one drudging past the finish line on my hands and knees weeping quietly and panting for dear life.

I heard people finishing and their times were 9 minutes, 10 minutes. I could feel that really heavy sticky spit in the back of my throat. It reminded me of the taste I get in my mouth when I get a bloody nose.

I pushed on digging deeper and deeper, fighting through the fire in my lungs, the ache in my legs. It helped that the woman behind me was dressed as a clown. Seriously. Imagine being chased through a dark park by a clown. I finished with a 13:05 mile. May not be impressive for most, it is definitely not a New York Minute, but it is probably the best mile I've ever done in my life. Holla.

Happy Halloween!!

I wanna tackle somethin

I missed boot camp yesterday because of early morning work related activities. I would like to tell you I went to the gym to make up for it, but that would be a lie.

Instead I went to Target and bought my husband the new Command and Conquer for our 1st anniversary present. Fitting, huh? I had a bowl of pasta with tomatoes and worked on a scarf that I have been knitting him for about 5 years now. Even though our anniversary is on Monday, we will be celebrating this Saturday. I am crossing my fingers that it will be done and I can surprise him.

Boot camp this morning was beyond cold. My car thermometer read 34 degrees. The whole rigamarole about getting used to this was a damn lie I tell you. My nose started running, but because it was so freakin cold, the snot seemed to just become ice in my nostril. I'm just sayin.

Today we worked on agility. It seemed to be a lot of things that football players do during practice in movies. I know jack about sports, so we'll leave it at that. Side shuffles, small hurdles, quick steps into rings and ladders laying on the ground, more side shuffles and of course, sprints. I think they should have had a tackling station. During cool down as I saw steam rising off my face I thought how funny it would be to tackle someone randomly. Being that I am constantly starving these days, I may just tackle someone on the street to work out some aggression.

A Sprinkle a Day

My friend Beth is basically me, but on delay. She was my replacement at my old news station. She stayed for two years, and just like me, left for the world of PR. I will be celebrating my 1st wedding anniversary in about a week. I got married at The Brown. Check out the wedding photos.

In about two weeks, she will be getting married at The Brown. Anyway, it was a great excuse for the girls to get together and throw Miss Beth a Sprinkle. Here she is getting a hand made wreath from Kerri.

I don't have a better pic because I am having camera issues. Deal with it.

She is looking fabulous and I am hoping to start looking fabulous with my new adventure in boot camp. I started yesterday and won the coveted 2lb weight award for my awesome lunges. Truth be told, I got the award because I have shorty little legs, but coach thought I was just trying really hard. I'll take it. Here it is in all its glory. I doubt I will get it again, but for now, rekinize biotches!

It was extremely hard getting up. I ate some hard boiled eggs which would prove to be a huge mistake later as projectile vomiting in the morning is not encouraged in this particular boot camp. Luckily, I held them down and got home. After a hot shower and a 20 minute nap, I forced myself out of bed and on to work. Tomorrow would be a new day.

I knew today was cardio day and thus, I tried to think of many reasons not to go. I spent most of the night tossing and turning about it, racking up a glorious 4 hours of slumber. After the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m., the next couple of minutes went like this.

4:30 Turn off alarm
4:33 Tell myself I didn't get sleep and I can't face the day without sleep
4:35 Lure my cat to my pillow and grab her for warmth
4:38 Hold my cat and convince myself that I need to be a better cat mom, and staying in bed holding her is part of that.
4:40 Quit making excuses, creep out of bed.
4:45 Put on clothes.
4:50 Sit on floor and eat yogurt. Here comes the cat again. This is obviously a sign that I should stay home.
5am Out the door into the freezing cold

I knew I should have stayed in bed. This morning was effing cold and effing hard. Cardio day folks. I think at one point one of my left lung blew out of my nostril, but my heart was beating so hard I didn't want to stop to look for fear the motion of my head would make me faint. I know all this activity is to help my heart, but after this morning, I'm not sure my heart is a friend of mine. I'm also having some real soreness in my legs. They are turning on me too. Good lord, this is only the second day.

For the Non Believers

Just a quick picture post for all my friends who called me a liar when I told them I performed a marriage ceremony. That good looking couple are my friends Cari and Jeff.

Adventures with Cari and Kerri

My friend and former college roommate Cari was getting hitched this weekend and I had decided to fly out to NYC for the ceremony. My friend, the awesome Dr. Jen let me stay with her in the Columbia Medical Student dorms. Her view rocked my face off. It was on the 28th floor with a direct view of the Brooklyn Bridge. For real. I felt like being at Columbia with this awe inspiring view would make me want to become a better person, but instead, I was happy to sit and admire while stroking my newly aquired Prada bag from China town.

On my way to New York, Cari had called me to ask if I would act as the ceremony officiant because her officiant had come in contact with salmonella or ecoli or something else that makes stuff shoot out of every orafice. I was thrilled. I now am demanding all I meet call me "Sista Love."

Cari came down the aisle looking stunning in a strapless mermaid gown with a bird cage veil and a tear rolling down her cheek. My heart started to swell and tears pooled at the bottom of my eyes. I tried to focus on the task at hand, but it really was a beautiful moment. Suddenly I felt a distinct warmth from the candlelight fireplace behind me. If I had actually caught fire, we could have totally won money from Bob Saget and that riduculous show where kids punch people in the crotch and animals do cute stuff.

When I got back to Kentucky, it was work, work, work. After a hard week, I was working late on a Friday and I felt the twinge of hunger. I am convinced that when God was making people, he made my friend Kerri just to amuse me. Not only is she a constant ray of sunshine, I know that when my dumb ass is working late on a Friday, there is a pretty good chance her dumb ass is working late on a Friday. I gave her a ring and we made plans to meet at the always hip and super trendy Red Lobster. Ok, it is not hip or trendy, but they totally had all you can eat shrimp.

I gave her my typical "this is endless shrimp, so buckle in, I'm gonna be here for a while" speech. She did not flinch. Instead, she ordered the same and kept up with me plate for plate as we plowed through masses of breaded shrimp, cajun shrimp, shrimp pasta, coconut shrimp, shrimp scampi, yeah, yeah, I saw that scene in Forrest Gump too.

Moral of the story: no matter how you spell it, Cari/Kerri. Find one and keep them forever.

Sickness and Wind

For those keeping track, it has been a while since I updated this. There are a couple of reasons. The first is that I got a nasty stomach virus. While it was quite efficient at helping me take off the pounds, I would have to continue the agony in order to keep it off. There goes one week.

When I started feeling better, I hit the treadmill. They were even playing with Transporter, which is not a great movie, but action packed and easy to work out to. My body wasn't feeling it. I did 1.77 miles and called it a day.

God, I'm convinced did not want me at the gym. Louisville got hit with Hurricane force winds knocking out power to pretty much the entire city. I couldn't even go to the gym to take a hot shower.

So for now, I am confined to my computer at work and looking forward to being able to say I did three miles, but it may take some time as trees are still laying in the streets and power is still not on in many homes, including mine.

What a pain in the...

I went in to do my three miles. I actually only meant to do two but as time rolled on I thought "might as well." The first mile I felt like my lower back was going to go out. I tried tightening my stomach or tucking in my tailbone, but it was just aching. By the end of the workout it was fine. That pain was replaced by the overwhelming urge to kill whoever picked the cardio theater movie today. Penelope Cruz and Gwenyth Paltrow and I have no idea what it is actually about.

Who picks this crap? What was running through their little minds? "We are going to have a bunch of people working out, so we must pick the slowest movie on the face of the planet." Good choice. Losers.

I had a late lunch and got taco bell instead of lean cuisine. I stuffed myself and then felt sick. Yeah, I know, I brought this upon myself. For dinner I'm having steamed veggies instead of the chicken adobo I made a couple of days ago. My husband thinks it smells like death and potato chips. Strange, as he really likes potato chips.

I also made some lasagna with ground turkey and half the cheese. I think it sucks, but I still devoured a lion's share the other night. I just seem to be really hungry all the time. I blame my mother. Mainly because I know she doesn't read this.

I would walk 500 miles...

Ok, the truth be told, I walked three and a half miles and felt pretty good about it. I actually intended on three miles but they were playing National Treasure in the cardio theater and I'm a sucker for working out to action scenes.

I have decided that I am going to walk the mini marathon next year. That is 13 miles. Yikes. My plan is to work on getting my miles under 15 minutes because that is the requirement and right now my short little stumps can only muster about 17 minute miles.

So starting with three miles and then adding, I'm going to be able to walk 6 miles by December and if all goes well they will be 15 to 16 minute miles. Wish me luck!

Fear and the angry carrot

I have decided to set goals to help keep myself on track. The first on is a tough one. I've decided to run/walk the mini marathon in April. It gives me a couple of months, but one of the problems is that you have to keep a 15 minute mile for 13 miles. For many people this is not an issue. I'm five foot nothing. I have to struggle to keep a 17 minute mile. This is going to take some work. So today I set out for my group weight lifting class and figure since I have not been to the gym in two days, I needed to push myself. I used heavier weights. I felt the burn but sweated less. Go figure. After class, I felt like I could use some cardio so off to the cardio theater I went.

There was a terrible movie on so I concentrated on the workout and wished I had brought my headphones. I huffed and puffed and even jogged for 7 minutes briskly walking in between. 17 minute mile. I'm getting scared. I did a half mile cool down walk and felt the fear of failure breathing down my now sweat laden neck.

The next obstacle is eating better. This is going to be by far the hardest. I have tried to switch to lean cuisine for lunch and frankly it is just pissing me off. Someone told me to eat some carrots to help fill me. I swear god is laughing at me, because I found a mini carrot that was making a face at me. So I made him a hat.

Playing with my food always makes me feel better, but this is not gonna be easy.

Where the hell are we going?

Have you ever noticed that spin teachers talk about climbing hills and "digging in" to pass the guy in front of you? I want to throw my hands up and scream "WE ARE ON STATIONARY BIKES! I'M NOT GONNA CATCH HIM!" I might have, but I was panting too hard to speak, let alone scream.

What is with all the talk about cross winds and tail winds? I understand they are trying to paint a picture of pretending to bike outdoors, but frankly if I wanted to bike outdoors, I would, well, bike outdoors. As you can tell, last night's spinning class was a tough one for me. My legs strained to keep even the tiniest bit of resistance on the bike. I couldn't muster the will or strength to really give it my all. I could feel the half-pound pulled pork sandwich I ate for lunch punishing me as I pushed through imaginary hills and that finish line I would never reach.

As I walked out the instructor thanked me for coming with a warm and friendly smile. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and wanted to throw myself at his feet and confess that the last 20 minutes of class, I coasted. He probably would have told me the same thing I already knew. I didn't cheat him. I cheated me. I still left covered in sweat and with the same basic desire to crawl into a corner and cry, so I was assured that my class was not completely wasted but dammit, I need to get on my game.

Gumption and Punctuality

My high school English teacher Mr. Qualls would be so proud to hear me say that is sucks to be late. My husband lost his glasses before I was supposed to head off to my spinning class this morning. About 15 minutes before class, I basically had decided that I was not going. Voila. We find the glasses. My husband grins and says I can't use him as an excuse. I grab my water bottle, a towel and run out the door. I am still about 2 minutes late. Not huge, but I missed part of the warm up, which I have found is pretty important to me and I really didn't get to adjust my bike to the perfect settings. This meant my crotch went numb about half way through class.

Right about half way through class, I also notice something very important. I had given up. I felt weak and helpless and I wanted to go home. It took me almost 15 minutes to work myself up to staying with the class. Maybe it was the lack of warm up, maybe it was weak will, but I indeed gave up for 15 minutes.

I finished the class strong with my heart pounding in my throat and head and a sweat soaked t-shirt. I still shoulda been on time.

Walking and Weights

I have neglected my blogger responsibility, but still have kept on the exercise track. Yesterday I was on the treadmill while watching Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins. Not my choice, it was what the gym had in the Cardio Theater. Three miles of walking and jogging and then I went home. I'm now toying with the idea of working my way into a mini-marathon, but I've got months to think about that. Perhaps I'll work treadmill in once a week, although I found it kind of boring and hard to stick with.

Today is was group power/weight lifting. I was late because I read the schedule wrong. This is the second time I have been late to this class. The worst part is that you need to collect materials so I was doing that as the class warmed up. Suck.

Right off the bat the squats hurt, even during warm up. During the actual leg section, I opted to leave the weights on the floor and my legs were still shaking. Last class I felt like I needed more weight on the bar. This class I was shaking with the slightest amount on the bar. It didn't help that there was a woman twice my age rocking twice as much weight right next to me. I wanted to push her down and scream "quit showing off granny!"

Let's face it, she coulda kicked my ass.

Pizza Hurts so Good

I blew off my spinning class with another bout of insomnia under my belt. My husband ordered pizza last night, which is not my weakness. However, the cheezy bread that came with it, that is another story.

I pounded what had to be a pound of cheese and dough and marinara sauce. Feeling stuffed, I went to bed and set my alarm for 5am, thinking I would grab an early spinning class. It took everything in me, but I dragged my butt out of bed and off I went to the gym. In a daze, I got half way to the wrong location. I hurried in because I didn't want to be late, but I didn't get much of a pre-warm up.

That may have been where I went terribly wrong. Apparently it was Metallica day, which means the typically kind instructor turns into a maniacal machine pushing you through ungodly hills. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy some good butt kickin metal, but he also played Creed. Seriously, if Nickelback was in the rotation, I would have left. There is only so much one person can take.

So I'm ready to start my day. This class didn't give me the vigor that I felt from Sunday's class, but it is still early and I made an awesome breakfast with turkey bacon and avocados. Yum.

Hate-o-meter

I am a chronic starter stopper. It's just me. Depending on how much time I let lapse between my attempts at fitness, my meter of hate for exercises varies.

I had my two days off so I knew I had to go to spinning today. It was a hard one. My husband remarked as I walked through the door with a drenched t-shirt and sopping wet hair that it must have been tough.

Endurance spinning challenged me with high resistance hills with interval sprints. The music was good, the instructor did what she could to keep our spirits high, she even blared my all time favorite Journey song. I hated the class all the way through. The hate-o-meter was blaring hard at a nine, quite possibly 10.

However, when I got in my car and started to drive away, I started feeling really great. My mood was happy and despite soaking through my towel onto the seat of my car with workout sweat, I was really ready to start the day. I guess the hardest classes to overcome reap the most benefit. The sandwiches I made for my husband and I with turkey bacon, egg, cheese, lettuce, tomato and avocado didn't hurt either.

Just the two of us

So instead of going to spinning today, I decided that my husband and I would do laps in our neighborhood. The problem lies with our difference in height. He is 6'4" and I am, well, not.

He likes to speed walk which add even more difficulty. Off we go, I'm doing mini sprints to keep up with him and I'm sweating like a horse (I have recently learned that pigs don't sweat.)

After a little more than a mile and a half, I am done. So I have showered and am blogging, while he goes and does two more laps.

I shoulda married a fat guy.

I'm a walkin in the rain

So I told myself that I would do 5 days a week. Generally the weekends would be my slack time. Due to some unfortunate insomnia, I didn't make it to classes on Wednesday and Thursday. Instead, I made a quiche with spiced ground turkey, corn, black beans and cheese. It was da biggity bomb, but did not get my happy ass to the gym.

I woke up at about 3am today and I thought I would catch an early spin class and get today's workout over with. I turned off my alarm so it wouldn't wake the husband. As I started to get out of bed, the most adorable kitteh in the world started head butting my face and purring. I grabbed her and snuggled her tightly.

The next thing I remember, I was dreaming about neighborhood kids bringing me chicken. I woke with a quick jerk. The clock read 7:45. Usually my husband wakes me when he gets out of bed at 6:30, but apparently not today.

That means I missed the class. The latest class offered is after I get off work today so I think I will be walking around my neighborhood for exercise, and it is supposed to rain. Crap.

All by myself

So last night I thought I would try working out at home with some weights using some of the techniques I had learned at group power a couple of days ago. I loading my mp3 player (no, I am not cool enough to own an ipod) with an hour and 10 minutes of music so I could time my workout. I felt like I was doing the same thing and I'm a little tight, but don't feel like I got the workout I do in group sessions. When I leave the gym, I look like I really abused myself. My hair is drenched with sweat, my shirt is completely wet and I have a general pissed off look about me. At home, it was a very light sweat and I don't feel like I worked as hard. Afterwards, my husband rewarded me with a pulled pork sandwich and mac and cheese.

So at home, it is an easier workout and I get treats at the end. Remind me why I pay membership at the gym? Oh yeah, I need someone to kick my ass unless I plan on keeping it at an unusally large size until I'm 90.

Kal-ee-mah! Kal-ee-mah!

I believe that is the correct chant for you Indiana Jones lovers. It was the only thing I could think of tonight at spinning class. I think my heart almost exploded. I imagine the instructor would have stood over my lifeless body holding my still beating heart and then strapping it back to the bike for a few more sprints. Tonight was brutal. Part of me can't help but wonder if the frozen veggie pack for lunch mixed with a potato salad snack could be to blame. Just not enough fuel? My right calf is still aching, but the workout made it feel better. I may baby it a bit now and then, but I swear if I cramped up, I would have fallen off that damn death machine. For dinner, I'm having Brussels sprouts and an egg white omlet. I crave weird things when I get so close to death. Perhaps I'll drink my water out of a humble carpenter's cup for good measure.

Just winging it

So not only did I refrain from exercise this weekend, I also went on a crazy food binge. This is just proof that I should not be alone with myself. This weekend was a food fest. We went to a birthday party and I consumed fried rice, teriyaki chicken, veggies and sushi. I went home and consumed half a bottle of wine.

The next morning I woke up ravenous and still brutally sore from Friday. I had cereal, sub sandwiches, potato chips and then I went and got a horendous order of chicken wings from BW3's. I refuse to tell you how many I consumed, but I looked like I was in a contest at the State Fair.

I woke up at 4:45 this morning and figured I should go to the 5:30 spinning class, but my cat wouldn't let me and by that I mean she was being undeniably cute. So needless to say, the plan is to go tonight after work. I have packed a gym bag and am feeling good about it. I doubt my office manager will show me her tummy and start to purr in an adorable way, so there goes that excuse.

You want me to lift what?

I got off work a little early today and decided to take in a little group power class. Basically weightlifting in numbers. I showed up late, which I seriously don't recommend just because you have to get materials like weights and steps and mats set up.

I used pretty light weights because, frankly, I didn't know what I was doing. The class seemed to move at a relatively quick pace and just as the muscle group we were working on was about to go kaput, we moved on. I think this might be a nice supplement to spinning.

I pulled into my parking lot at home and felt pretty good besides being a little weak and very sweaty. I started to walk to my apartment when I realized that the Mount Everest of stairs lie between me and my living room floor (where I had made plans to lay on my back and sigh for an hour before showering.) I seriously contimplated sitting down and screaming until my husband came to find me and carry me up the stairs. Squats apparently are not my friend. This is when I discovered I was not just a little weak, I was downright swaying.

I began moving up the stairs at the speed of smell chanting "gotta want it, gotta want it." My thighs began to tremble. My arms were useless blobs of jelly weighing me down and I tried to swing them forward to help crawl up the evil stairs. I blame my husband for insisting we live on the second floor. I plan on punishing him later tonight by asking if he thinks I've gained weight since we got married. Oh yeah, that is my kind of evil.

You Spin Me Right Round

I'm back on the spinning bandwagon. I have joined spinning classes before and I am quite familiar with the heart pounding, lung burning, ass aching experience. Each time I restart, getting back in is a little easier. Don't get me wrong, this morning there is a sore spot in the shape of a bicycle seat where the good lord split me and I'm walking like I've been riding a horse, but it is not the agonizing crotch numbing stroll through hell I recall the first time I took a spin class.



I actually really enjoyed the class, mainly because of the instructor. She had just gotten back from vacation and although she appeared to be the typical gorgeous gung-ho size nothing workout bunnies, her personality was anything but. She talked about loving big meals, drinking beer and pushing through the workout regardless. I think she understood that not everyone craves the "workout burn" and some of us are just trying to make it through the hour without fainting or projectile vomiting.



I was inspired by my buddies joining a four week boot camp to get into shape. They have also changed their eating habits in a dramatic fashion. I'm making an effort to stay away from certain foods, but let's face it, I'm a creature of habit, so I will have to take baby steps. "Walking like a cowboy" baby steps.