She's a Rock Star

I'm just going to say this and I don't care what anyone thinks- those women you see- those average, every day, non-celebrity women who have more than one kid they have tote around and are still in great shape. Those women are freakin' rock stars.

Getting to the gym with one kid in a baby carrier and the other still not fully mobile is rough.  In fact, it is all sorts of demotivation in one giant diaper bag, sippy cup involving mountain.  Staying motivated to work out after the kids are up and in my face is hard too, but Shredding or doing Pilate's from home can be easier than treking to the gym.  Unless you face what I did today. 

One Comedian sitting on my abs during sit-ups. 

One Comedian hugging my legs as I tried to do jumping jacks.

One heavy toddler putting pots and pans in my face as I did push-ups

One heavy toddler pushing her baby sister in a swing so hard it looked like a new ride at Busch Gardens. 

I swear, all I needed was twenty minutes of sweating and I would be done.  I did it.  I'm glad I did but it is such a challenge.  Next time you see a woman who is in good shape and a breeder tell her "Good Job! You kick ass woman! You are rock star!"  She probably needs it to keep doing butt kicks while a toddler and baby try to simultaneously untie her shoes.


*Disclaimer- I am in no way calling myself a rock star.  I simply want it put out there that people should realize how hard it is to stay in shape after having kids.  It's not all 6 weeks and breastfeeding and poof! flat belly, toned ass.  Unless of course you have wads of cash money and help acheiving that goal, which I don't.

Beyond the Couch to 5k

So here I am beginning week four in my Couch to 5k training and it hit me as I was out running on Saturday.  I'm impatient. OK, I already knew that.  I can be like a cat on meth when it comes to having patience.  I really don't want to go many more months of fitting into larger sizes or making due with the few bigger clothes that I have. I want to be in my old size NOW. 

Spare me the, "You just had a baby!" cries.  It's de-motivating. 

Back in 2007, after I birthed the Tiny Dicatator, I went on a month long journey of working out.  For 30 days/4 weeks I would work out every day.  It seems insane and I actually made it five weeks and eliminated sugar and alcohol during that time, but it worked.  I'm not that nutty this time around.  At the end though any and all post-baby weight was gone. For the first time in almost a year I felt like my old, normal self. I was comfortable in my skin and clothes again.  It was liberating. 

While this is a quest to fit in my old clothes (I don't have the time or cash to keep buying larger in-between sizes either people) it is also what I need.  Mentally I need to jump start my body again.  It's been concentrating on gestating a healthy baby for so long.  I am including The Comedian in this since I never felt like my old self again completely after her. I was almost there and then my Mirena tried to make me bald and Lifestyles went all faulty on my ass.  So you could say I'm in week four of the Couch to 5k but I'm only on day three of this new month long quest.  As further motivation I'm going to buy myself a pair of boots I've been coveting if I can complete this task. 

I'll keep you posted and let you see my boots when I'm done!

Back on the Couch

That title can be viewed two ways. Literally.

I went back to see my psychiatrist yesterday for the first time since mid-2009.  Apparently once you have had postpartum depression two times you are "red-flagged" in the system and a social worker visits you while you are still in the hospital nursing and wearing mesh undies.  That and they give you back your meds about thirty minutes after you push that new baby out.  It is a month after The Fifth Element's arrival and I need a new script so it was back on the psych's couch for me.  Aside from being tired I feel pretty good.

I'm also back on the Couch to 5k program. I went for my first run on Sunday and it was glorious.  I felt stiff, a bit wobbly and tense at first, but it was fantastic to be out in the cool morning air.  I ran longer than I needed to and that motivated me to get back out there for day two of the training today.  I tacked on another minute of running. I am beyond week one and two of this program which makes me pretty freakin' happy.  I have ten pounds of baby weight to shed and I want to run a 10k in December with this guy again.  I was just beginning to toy with the idea of running a full marathon next fall when I spied a 140.6 sticker on the back of an SUV this morning and thought, "Land's sake! People really do that?!" Makes 26.2 look like a pound of cube steak sitting next to a cut of Delmonico.   Geez. 

But whatever, I'm back on the couch and happy to be there.

The Odyssey

The other night I had a dream. A fabulous dream. When I woke up, I felt happy and refreshed. What was this dream about?

Running.

It was all I did the entire duration of my dream and it wasn't from something scary. Instead, it was just one long run after another as I took in local scenery and running in places, I have never been. It felt so freeing. Sometimes, I was running while pregnant and other times I was back to my old self. No matter what I felt exhilarated. I cannot tell you how much I miss being out there. I look longing at other runners. When the weather is that perfect combination of sunny and just a bit cool outside I long for it even more. I am deeply jealous of H's freedom when he runs. Just like drinking it is another thing I cannot do right now.

I tried to keep running. It was my intention all along to keep it up throughout this pregnancy but despite my efforts, it did not work out. Each time I did it or any other exercise, I was sick for the rest of the day. I became run down (no pun intended) and it was pointless for me to keep trying when I had the kids, work and more to contend with on a daily basis. My running shoes, the Shredheads, dreams of races for this spring and summer all had to be packed away. It breaks my heart.

Then, last week while I was on a business trip, I happened to talk to a man who runs marathons. I asked him about a race that I have always wanted to be a part of but was just too scared to try. Having him explain it to me, he has run it twice, made it seem like a real possibility. Ever since that conversation, it is like a chant in my head.

Odyssey! ODYSSEY! AAah-DAH-SEEEE!!!!

I want it so bad I can picture it in my mind. I imagine myself on darkened roads with others running around me. I think of the training and I get excited all over again. It is my reward for making it through another pregnancy. It is my stress reliever for all those future sleepless nights. It is getting back into shape and conquering another goal I have set for myself. I cannot wait.

April. 2011. Odyssey! Gettysburg, PA to Washington, DC. A race through history. What could be more apropos for me?

The Non-Drinkers Club

Last month I proposed a thirty day challenge of sorts.  No sugar and no alcohol for the entire month of January.  H was first on the bandwagon and then a few fine bloggers decided to join me on this crazy train. I wanted to see if eliminating sugar and drinking from my diet would improve my workouts, help me lose a few pounds and generally change the way I felt internally.  Essentially it was a month long cleanse.  H decided to go all balls to the wall insane though and throw in the "no fried food" thing too. 

Egads.

What started out easy peasy with me just desiring sugar and even dreaming of it became a nightmare.  I thought it would be hard to get rid of the alcohol, I mean what is bath time without wine?  I cook with wine so why not pour a glass during the process too?  Girls night without the cocktails?  For shame!  Yeah, well I got all good and knocked up so taking out the drinky drinky ended up being remarkably simple.  The sugar/ no fried food thing. Um. Not so much.

Seems the only thing this fetus and my disgustingly vomitous stomach wants these days is fried food and sugar.  I held out for two weeks.  Two miserable, literally gut-wrenching, stomach heaving, 24/7 nausea until one day I just said, "Screw it!" When I was pregnant with The Comedian the only thing that helped my morning sickness was grease.  A trip to McDonald's for a sausage biscuit was on point.  Then I would hit the gym and feel great for a few hours.  It worked this time too.  So did drinking Tang, sugar-laden iced tea mix and Coke.  Potato chips, french fries and pizza became my go-to foods.  My ass and thighs already regret this, but when it is the only thing you can keep down and count on to help you make it through the day so be it. 

So while I get a big ol' FAIL on this challenge, H survived, looks leaner because of it and has felt better too. I know I can do it, I've done it in the past.  I'll do it again later.  I'm sure once I pop this kid out I'll be Jillian's bitch again for quite some time.  There are more 5k's and 10k's in my future too.  For now, I have to be content in just incubating this new baby and accepting whatever it is that makes me feel better, even if it is in the form of four Awful, Awful's a day.

Trying to Come Back

When I first found out I was pregnant with this newest addition to our clan I still felt fine. I vowed that I would keep running, I wouldn't slow down with my workout routines and I would do a 5k every few months to keep me motivated.

I might be walking those 5k's now. 

Once I'm "with child" as H loves to call it, I become incredibly sick.  Unless I'm asleep, I'm sick.  I throw up a lot and I spontaneously gag whenever, wherever.  It's really sexy.  The idea that I would be "Super Prego!" with this third pregnancy suddenly became laughable.  I get so sick that water gives me heartburn.  I'm on medication just so I can act like a somewhat competent parent, take care of the kids, make their food and keep some of my own food down. Bagels are my balm.  I could eat an entire block of cream cheese and bag of bagels in one day.  I'm eating one right now.

Today I made it to the gym.  I took my little white pill, packed my bag and made sure I turned left towards the gym as I exited TD's school parking lot.  It was pouring down rain and I wanted nothing more than to lay waste to my DVR queue but I didn't. I ran for 25 minutes and while I'm slower than I used to be it felt incredibly good.  The sun was peering from out between the clouds as I left the gym and today I feel just a tiny bit optimistic that in a few weeks I will feel like myself again.  Myself with an alien taking up residence inside my body, but myself all the same. 

Confessions of a Cheater

I just might be a sloth.  My motivation and will to work out has completely left me.  While my butt aches from sitting on the couch so much, it is about all I can do most of the time these days.  Yes, my friends things have changed.  Do you hear the hoof beats of the horsemen of the Apocalypse too?  I just can't seem to get back on track.

I have not indulged in any alcohol at all this month, I am, along with others, 18 days into this No Sugar/Alcohol Thirty Day Challenge and I am confessing to cheating on the sugar front.  Not even cheating, just downright diving in.  I had a Frosty last night from Wendy's while I watched the Golden Globes.  A delicious, smooth, creamy, frozen cup of bliss.  I needed it. OK?! Just leave me and my cold, tempting treat alone.  We love each other!  Before the Frosty there was Coke.  I don't even drink soda but lately it is like sipping heaven.  It soothes me so.  There was also an incident involving some maple syrup as well.  Kicking the sugar at this point in my life has proved harder than I originally thought.  On New Year's Eve when H and I made the proclamation I figured I would feel cleansed and powerful at this point. I would feel trim and strong.  In fact, I feel tired, soft and of the five-toed sloth variety.  I am not a good example right now.  Not. At. All. 

H, on the other hand, is a good example. The man gave up fried foods and processed foods as well as the sugar and alcohol.  He stuck with it too until this past Sunday when my need to get us out of the house propelled us into a local eatery and he succumbed to a chicken parm sandwich, a coke and fries.  For shame!  Not really. His skin is glowing!  He looks fit, healthy and svelte.  Eliminating all that sugar and fat from his diet has proved difficult but not unrealistic. 

Me though?  You should just kick me off your happy, skinny, hard-working motivational team. OK, not really. I did create this whole challenge and I plan to get back on it.  My emotional eating must be controlled and I promise to do better for the remainder of the month. 

My Goody Drawer

I keep things hidden away in my nightstand. Things that no one in my house can have but me. In pretty wrappings, sometimes shiny and glistening, they beckon to me as they sit and wait until just the right moment when I open the draw and pull one out just for my pleasure.


It's candy. I keep loads of candy in my nightstand. Ever since Claudia from the Baby Sitter's club gave me the clever idea of hiding junk food in my room I have done just that. I am like an old lady hoarding money under my mattress. Except in my case, it is probably a box of Good 'n Plenty.

Wispa bars. Cadbury eggs. Chocolate bars loaded with crunchy bits of toffee. Dark chocolate bite-sized nuggets. Sometimes gum, but that is too boring.

Now that I have embarked on this 'no sugar for a month' insanity, my "goody drawer" is off-limits. All those luscious, creamy, sugar-packed morsels will have to wait until February, one of the most delightful months of the year. When I can come off this crazy-train of zero sugar and embrace my inner candy whore by delving into heart-shaped boxes of chocolate filled with marshmallow goo.
Bliss:  Thy name is Fluff.

 

2010- No More Excuses

I never watch 'The Biggest Loser'.  OK, maybe sometimes I catch a weigh in or two, but I don't know the players, their stories or their fight to lose the weight while at the ranch.  Since there was absolutely nothing else on TV last night and I felt ridiculously tired, I lay there like a sacraficial lamb and allowed the show's newest season to unfold before my eyes.

And I cried.  I gasped.  My hand flew to my mouth as I watched these people struggle and I laughed as they endured the wrath of Jillian, who climbs atop treadmills to yell in your face like a tiny, wronged monkey.  At least she didn't tell them to gargle their hearts. Yet. 

It was then that I realized I was at the closing of my fifth day of self-imposed 'no sugar/no alcohol' month.  Oh.  Right. Month.  When I write it that way.... WILL.NOT.FEEL.FUTILE!

After dreaming of sugar it actually hasn't been as hard as I thought.  I resisted the birthday cake this past weekend.  I stopped putting sugar in my tea and I've eaten a bit more fruit than normal but even after a day or two of that it has stopped.  I've stopped thinking about it too.  Having fajitas last night with no beer was sad but we survived.  Tomorrow's girls night will be an even bigger test.

H, on the other hand, wanted to curse me to all eternity. His Facebook status proves it-

"Why the hell did I agree to cut out all alcohol, fried food, and processed sugar for the month of January? I think I’m going to start smoking again just to get through this. Thanks Vicky, no really, thanks Vicky."

Well, at least we are in good company.  It is January after all and people are trying to make lasting changes in their lives.  It's hard but worth it.  You can do it and it helps when you have others on the journey with you.  If someone offers to help you reach your goal, whatever it is, then you should seriously consider their offer. No matter how tired you feel, 2010 is the year of 'No More Excuses!'

And that's my two cents. 

This ain't no Billy Blanks Kickboxing

Five minutes of jumping rope.

100 push-ups.

150 squats.

200 sit-ups.

That's how kick-boxing class started.  That was just the warm up.  After that?

There was still another forty minutes left of class.  Oh, and an ab routine.  Did I mention the murder on my post-two-baby abs?  I felt like such a wussy weakling. 

My tailbone is so sore today.  It hasn't been this sore since I fell on the ice at age eight and chipped it.  Oddly enough, that is where I am sore the most.  I feel like I need a little pad attached to my butt or one of those inflatable donuts to sit on. 

Before the class I felt like a scared little bunny.  After the class I felt taller and like I could really kick some box!  Like a cardboard box post-Christmas that's been sitting on the curb waiting for the trashman.  Yup, I would really tear that cardboard box a new one.

Jingle All the Way 10k

I had my first 10k this weekend.  For so many months I have been training, then side-tracked, then training again, gearing up for the cold, dealing with my nerves and all this time fretting and fretting about my time.  I was using this particular race to qualify me for RunDC next year.  Then something happened.

H found out about a work trip to Florida that I could accompany him on.  One week in the middle of my least favorite month of the year, March. Sorry March birthday goers, but that lion/lamb thing just messes with my SAD-effected brain.  The whole month is like a giant hangover to me.  Kind of like how August is just one giant Sunday.  Oh, is that just me?  Back to the work trip then.  A whole week of sunshine, time alone with H, sunshine, ocean and tranquility.  Also, sunshine. I was in!  As I reviewed the dates I realized that we would be coming back the day of RunDC.  I wouldn't be able to do that historic run through my favorite city.  Immediately it took off so much of the pressure I was harboring towards Sunday's 10k.

Suddenly, I felt excited about the run instead of anxious.  The weather situation was a whole other story.  100% chance of rain, sleet and wintry mix was predicted with a high of 41 degrees.  That sounds like so much fun!  Yeah, freezing rain all for me.  Did I mention that the run was also on the water?  I could feel the icy rain drizzling down my back each time I thought about the impending race. 

The day of the race I woke up early and got dressed in my warmest running gear.  It was only after I was fully packed up that I realized I had forgotten to put my shoes on.  We got the girls up while it was still dark and got their drowsy, questioning selves dressed and packed in the car for the drive into the city.  Soon after we found ourselves touring the city at dawn while waiting for the start time to draw closer.  Gazing at the National tree all lit up and driving past the Washington Monument completely dissipated my nerves and I was ready to get started.

I met up with a fellow Shredhead, dealt with bag check, long queues at the port-a-potties and a suspicous vomit smell that pervaded the air, we got in line.  Late.  I started to get chilled to the bone and wanted to get started.  Fortunately, the air was cloudy but clear.  Fused with adrenaline and excitement I started out faster than I normally do and was feeling really good, despite the nagging feeling of a cold beginning that morning.  I was sure I had gone two miles when I saw the ONE mile marker.  Doh!  Throw in one runner who had already completed the course and was on his way back and I felt a bit defeated.  For some reason about five minutes later seeing the DC's Mayor run by me motivated me again and I past a few people.  The loop felt long and as I got close to the turn around I felt impatient.  I wanted to yell at people to "Move! MOVE! MOVE!" The air turned cooler as I ran along the water. I took in the sights of the city as I tried to temper my aggravation at the congestion of other runners.  Finally, coming in at 34 minutes plus I got to the turnaround point. 

Then something happened.  My competetive edge, rarely seen, came out.  I looked at the runners still trucking along to the turning point and thought, "Suck it!  I'm faster than you! Bwwahahaha!"  Where did that come from?  I passed people on the right, the left and went up off the street and onto the grass and wet leaves to blow by others.  I wanted to make my qualifying time no matter what.  1: 05 was my goal.  I needed to do it despite not making the March marathon.  As I neared mile four I found myself slowing down. I tried to pick other runners out in the crowd that I wanted to compete with but my motivation was severly lacking.  I just wanted to be done. I wanted to see my family, the crowds and the finish line. "Damn it!  Where was the finish line!?! Where the hell was mile five?! I am such a wuss!  WTF is wrong with me?"  I kept internally yelling at myself Jillian Michael's style to combat that thinking.  That helped momentarily and got me through to mile six.  Point two more miles to go.  Whew!  Santa and his reindeers ran by me and it pissed me off.  I ran faster.  A bit.

Then I saw my friend. He had already completed the 10k and came running along the finish line.  I needed that encouragement.  I knew I was so close but I felt so slow.  My left hamstring felt ridiculously tight and I was cold, wet and tired.  While my body might "know" this run, it didn't much care for it at that particular moment.  He kept yelling, "Run! Run faster!" and I did. I tried and suddenly I was crossing the finish line.  I saw my time and felt relief and a bit of dissappointment.  1:08 and something seconds...Oh well.  I did it. My first 10k.  It was now raining as steam poured off my body.  I gnawed on a bagel and felt exhilerated.  I'll definetly be doing that again!

Later in the day my official time came through- 1:05, 14 seconds.  14 seconds barring me from RunDC but whatever.  I'm going to Florida! 

The 10k FAIL?

So...I'm supposed to run this thing called a 10k in a few weeks. December 13 to be exact. A few weeks back this seemed like a fabulous idea. Then I got sick. The cold from hell descended on our humble abode and took all of us, minus TD, under. It was like some Kraken from the deep. Everyone got better except me. Two weeks later, still sick and crying from the sheer sick of being sick syndrome I headed to my local Urgent Care one night this week.

Sinus Infection. No wonder I felt like my face was imploding, cracking and generally falling apart with pain.

Throughout this time of plague I haven't been able to run. Weeks of no running have gone by. I got three miles in, maybe. There's been no cross-training, no training runs. No nothing. The coughing, the body aches, the lack of sleep- it was just too much.

I'm set to run seven miles Saturday and then in two weeks it is the 10k. I feel a big fat, FAIL coming on. I need to make it in 1:05 or less to qualify for the half-marathon I want to run in March. However, I'm feeling less than optimistic. If I can pull off a good time Saturday maybe my confidence will be restored, but right now while my body is feeling better, my mind is messing with my head. The word is still out on my lungs. They aren't really returning my calls right now, but I think they'll survive.

I've wanted this so badly for so long it seems and now I'm feeling so depleted in spirit I just don't know if I can pull it off. It's all setting up to making me feel less than me and I don't like it one bit.

The Last Resort in Exercise?

Flirty Girl. Holy Schiznit. Even the opening music of this website makes me cringe. Gah!

I'm not going to diss (yeah, I just said diss) Flirty Girl's results because I think that dance and fitness can show remarkable results and for some this is what is needed to motivate them to exercise. I will admit that prior to having TD I invested in some Carmen Electra workout DVD's. Did I see a difference? Not so much.

The idea of doing segments like 'Booty Beat' and using a feather boa in my living room though just gives me an ick factor that I can't even describe. Part of it is probably due to the fact that I have two small girls living under my roof who watch my every move. TD loves to follow my lead and shred right along with Jillian (Yes, Jillian it is true. You had my three year old at "gargle your heart". She even has tiny weights her father made out of painters tape.) So do I really want my two impressionable girls asking for feather boas and gyrating and "teasing" right alongside me?

No, I think not. I'd much rather have my girls thinking that their abs don't come for free.

Also, check this out! Jillian knows we exist!

My First 10k- About 65% Motivated

After this past June's 5k success and last month's month of 5 day a week workouts I have decided to challenge myself once again. Really, I just want to do this in March and I need to have a qualifying 10k under my belt. So here I go!

I'm going the Jeff Galloway route with training. I was about to go into my first week of training this past week when I realized that I instead of the 13 weeks of training I had scheduled I only have eight. Yikes! I cut off a few weeks and ran a 5k yesterday for the first time since June. This whole time I've been lacking my usual enthusiasm for fitness goals. However, when I finished my run yesterday I realized that I shaved six minutes off my time. It completely re-energized me and instead of shirking my workout duties this week I find I'm rearing to go.

For now.

I have until November 15 until the "particularly hilly and challenging" 10k. Maybe my daily intake of glucosamine and fish oil will give me the super powers of motivation? Maybe the eating of a ton of Halloween candy and birthday cake at The Comedian's party will spur me to keep going because at this point I'm really only 65% motivated on any given day.

I'm Spider Bait and More

I feel like a fang banger today. A spider bit the inside of my thigh in two spots this past weekend. The next night, it happened again on the other leg.

Yesterday morning I woke up looking straight into the eyes of another spider. Yeah, fall! I keep seeing scenes from Aracnophobia playing out in my own personal version of hell.

I just ate a cupcake for breakfast. I've worked out five days each week for four weeks now. The fact that I'm finally starting to see results proves that I'm getting old. It used to take two days of Billy Blanks Tae-Bo to get my butt back into shape. Now I need running, Pilate's and Jillian and a minimum of five hours per week for weeks. Then, I eat a cupcake for breakfast. You know what? It was heaven.

I spent about six hours straight getting work done yesterday and it was bliss. I rarely get the chance to work uninterrupted for that long anymore and sometimes I just crave it. Wondering what I'm working on? Read some of it here- I'm the Parenting blogger at The Find, where you can find information just like you would at Mummy's Product Reviews. It's fashion, beauty, eco-friendly products and more!

Falling into Motivation.

How cheesy is that title?

I swear the Fall does funny things to me. It makes me insatiable. While the end of summer can cause me to feel a bit melancholy, leaving me with a feeling that the month of August is a never-ending series of Sundays, I look forward to Fall with its crisp air, golden sunlight and bright feelings of promise.

I plot and plan.

I leave post-it stickies on pages throughout fashion magazines and dream of cozy knits, over-the-knee boots and oversized bags studded with metallic hardware.

My nails go from ballet slipper pink to blue satin overnight.

I become my most motivated as well. Two years ago I spent the month of October working out every single day. I didn't know I had it in me. Today, marking the fourth day I worked out this week, I walked to the library with the girls. I know what you are thinking. You walked? Pffftt...

I know. I thought it was no big deal too.

Then I realized how many hills I had to climb with the double stroller that we packed with water and snacks for this "adventure". It's seven minutes by car so how hard can it be? It's five miles of hills and a 100 lb double stroller hard. I had sweat burning my eyes. It was thrilling on some small level, I'll admit. To walk beyond the confines of my 'hood and actually take the kids somewhere. To feel the burn in my calves and glutes. My ankles are not on speaking terms with me at this moment.

You know what wasn't thrilling?

The fact that after we reached the library we actually went inside, picked out books and FILLED the basket on the bottom of the stroller. Not too smart. Luckily, TD felt like running a lot of the way home and we hit some good downhill paths.

Summer is coming to a close. Fall is no longer on the back burner. School will be starting soon and I'm feeling motivated again.

Next week- five more days of workouts!

I'm at Your Service. If You Want.

Last week I cried 'do over!' and I kept my promise. I met my goal. I worked out five times last week. It is the same bat time, same bat channel again this week. Five times. Yes, my knees are popping more than a box of cereal and I a bit more exhausted than I normally would be, but I'm not bloated anymore either. I've de-puffed myself and already my arms are looking a bit more toned. It's not going to be an over night transformation. Ah, to be 17 again... It's going to be a tad more of a long haul getting myself back to where I want to be, but I'm willing to do the work.

Are you?

Here's the thing. Since I began Shredding and hitting the gym again, a few months ago, I have had quite a few friends ask me all about this power-packed DVD. They have heard me talk about how great it is, how hard it is and how much I love it. And hate it.

Then they buy it. You know what happens next? Fear. Fear wells up inside them and demotivates their asses so damn fast it is like they have cement in their gym shorts. They make up one excuse after another on why they haven't even ripped the security stickers off of Jillian yet. It boils down to a lot of waiting. Waiting for someone else to do it with them, waiting for... well, quite frankly I have no idea what. Waiting for the DVD to help them lose weight and burn fat through osmosis? I'm not entirely sure.

Because they are my friends and I'm complicated, I get irritated. I want the best for them and when I see the lack of motivation it sets me into Drill Sargent mode (or Jillian mode, take your pick.) and I want to make them Shred. It is only because I want them to be their best. I want them to feel as good as I feel. I am the first person to admit how hard it is to commit to a workout plan and follow it. I've been procrastinating with the best of them for years. I am also the first to admit how fun it can be. How I love the feel of my own sweat and seeing my body change. It "doesn't come for free" though. If you want results you have to work for them. Hard. However, hard work can be fun.

All I can say is that achieving a goal takes perseverance and a lot of hard work. When you know someone has your back and can commiserate with you it is that much easier to achieve it. It's one of the many reasons I love H so much. When you have me as your friend you know I'm going to expect a lot from you but I'm also going to be loyal and help you out in any way I can.

You only have one life. There are no "real" do overs. If you want me as your own version of Jillian Michaels, then so be it. I am at your service. All you have to do it ask. I'll help you reach that goal in whatever way I can. I promise.

That applies to all my Internet friends as well.

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Mummy Needs A Do Over

Oh my. Let's just put it all out there for a minute, shall we? Since Blogher I have been the most ridiculous glutton. I can't pass up a cookie, cupcake, candy, plate of fries or Eggs Benedict even if it doesn't have my name on it. I'll feel guilty for eating badly a few days in a row. My body screams for veggies and I ply it with carbs and then I resolve to be better. Suddenly I'm chowing on chicken strips and more french fries. Egads! It's like the last supper at every. freakin'. meal.

No more.

I simply have to cut back. I did not Shred and train for that 5k to just end up back where I was before and in less than two months time. That's quite simply insane, disheartening, and sad. I have to be better so that my poor liver, thighs and butt can get back into shape.

I am not saying I'm going to totally go balls to the wall on this. That would technically speaking, be impossible. Let's face it- I just got a house full of Hershey. Those Nuggets with bits of Skor bar in them, my personal fave candy bar in the whole wide world, are begging to be eaten by the millisecond. I am powerless against them. That toffee is my kryptonite. Even when I banished it to the dark depths of the pantry.

The plan is to workout five days in a row to really jump start my body again. I hate feeling unhealthy and that is precisely how I am feeling these days. Yesterday when I failed to make it to my morning Body Pump class I told myself and H I would run when he got home. By 5 p.m. the 90 degree heat wasn't letting up. I decided to Shred instead. Level one kicked my butt! Jillian Michaels has successfully made me her bitch once again.

On tap for today? A simple jaunt in my hood. I know sounds easy right? Except it is all killer hills and I'm forcing myself to take the girls in the ginormous double stroller. I figure adding in about 100 lbs of weight plus the steep hills will make up for the fact that I won't be running.

Stay tuned...

Just Pump It

Today felt as if it was the first day I went back to the gym post The Comedian. I joined the gym back in January and went regularly until I decided to become a Shredhead and train for a 5k. I ignored the class schedule taped up on the fridge and never gave it a second thought. After the 5k however, I felt I needed more. Since The Comedian has officially weaned herself with a snub nose and stiff arm to my chest I figured now was the best time. I can lose my weight and get toned up again. Simple.

Heh.

Before The Comedian I took a class that was all weights for an hour and a half a few times a week and I loved it. It challenged me and totally re-shaped my form. I felt fantastic and that I looked better than before I had TD. This new gym has Body Pump. Sounds fun, huh? Each time I think of it I think, " Just pump it. Pump it up." I took a peek at it last week and wanted to hide in a corner. They weren't using free weights. They were dead lifting with bars and discs! Oh my. Unlike my former gym there were men in there too. It was positively intimidating. Throw in the fact that by the time I'm done with the class and have driven home it's lunch time and I still haven't showered. I felt totally unmotivated. The idea of using the locker room kind of throws me. I just don't dig seeing so many naked butts and sweaty tatas. And I grew up in a naked house. Everyone always seems tanner than me and I can't understand it. I'm the whitest white girl, I swear.

It took me two hours to get our gear together and get out to the door with both girls. Everyone was ready and we headed off to the gym. After depositing the girls in the Kidz Zone (why do they misspell kids stuff?!) I walked to my class. I settled in with all my discs, bar, bench and mat. The instructor picked me out in a nanosecond and forced me up front despite my, "Seriously? Why the hell?! Grr...." comment. I loathe the front. Especially when I'm such a light weight user.

Fifteen minutes in I was feeling the burn. My quads were screaming and only the thought of it increasing my running speed spurned me on. After about three minutes of triceps I noticed the front of my shirt was drenched. My hair was wet and my arms were shaking. I feared decapitation by the bar. An hour later I felt light, exhilarated and like I was going to fall down the flight of stairs to the locker room because my legs were trembling so much. My sports bra was soaked and I just wanted a shower. Old lady junk in my face be damned!

Twenty-five minutes later we were in the car and I felt complete. The stress in my shoulders that I've been harboring was gone. I'm ready to go again. I'm ready to transform myself from post-pregnant Mom body to who I used to be. It feels terrific.

Oh, and does anyone else dry their hair while completely naked? Yeah, me neither.

Not a Wounded Antelope

Saturday 5:45 a.m.- my alarm goes off and my brain and body freeze up. Today is the day. Today I will run my first 5k. While I am sure my body can do it, my brain has decided it wants a monopoly on the whole thing and will go to any lengths to psyche me out of doing it. Stupid brain.


Initially, I was going to go up by myself and H and the girls would meet me later. Why drag them out at that ungodly hour too? However, The Comedian got up bright and early and before I was done showering and trying not to puke in my bathroom sink, she was ready to go. TD followed a bit later, wearing her "My Mom is Blogging This" t-shirt. Tweeting would be more like it. It was better that they came with me instead of me driving solo and freaking myself out about parking, traffic and of course, the race the whole drive up. That, my stomach did not need.


Once we got there I checked in, walked around, pinned on my number and tied my time-chip to my shoe. I looked around at the other runners and felt a bit intimidated. Everyone looked so serious. I found Bill, a local Shredhead and we got ready to head to the starting point. As we stood, stretched and figured out our placement in the crowd of runners it began to rain. The strains of the Rocky theme song did not help my mood. I wondered why I even thought I could do this. All this time I've been telling myself I'm a runner. I've been doing it on and off for years and suddenly I doubted if this was really the spot for me. Then I realized that others looked as doubtful as I did and seemed equally as nervous and it totally helped. I crossed over the start line, smiled for H and the camera and made sure I started at a nice, even pace.




About five minutes in I realized I was next to a mother and son duo. It must have been his first 5K as well because Mom was talking him up saying things like, "Keep a nice, even pace. Breathe and relax. You are doing just fine! Remember, humans are meant to run! We have always run so that we can chase down wounded antelope or run from Sabre Tooth Tigers!" Wounded antelope? Hm... "Which one of us runners is her sons wounded antelope" I pondered as I kept pace with an elderly woman with intensely white knees socks. Then I passed her. And I passed a few more people.


I got on the grass and passed a couple more as I found my rhythm and my mind went elsewhere. It began to pour. The rain came down in glorious buckets and it was all about keeping my pace and enjoying the moment. There were some tough hills. I worried I would slip on some wet grass at some points but as I made my way down the last big hill I knew I was in the clear. I could hear people cheering and I picked up speed. When a woman yelled out, "Only forty more seconds!" I smiled and ran faster. "Forty seconds my ass! In your face!" my brain screamed. Whoa. Where did that come from?


Suddenly there it was- the bright blue finish line. I ran harder and crossed it, trying to smile and not do the 'white-man's overbite' that I sometimes do when I run. I heard a pop and saw a flash and quickly sought out my family. H took pictures and asked, "What was your time?" Umm... what? Right.. forgot about that. Damn. Bill found us and it looks like he beat me. We wondered aloud how Kristen, another Shredhead did on her 5K that morning and we took our families out of the rain.


After about five minutes of panting H asked me what I thought of the whole experience and I said, "I want to do it AGAIN! I loved it! It was fast and easy!" So I am. I signed up for the BlogHer 5K on July 24 in Chicago and I can't wait!


And my official time? 33:29. It's better than I expected and I couldn't be happier.




Post-race. About 10 seconds after finishing.