In Which I Overindulged

I met my original goal this past year and then promptly gained twenty-five pounds back.

I am ashamed.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day, and I took full advantage of the chocolate, the heart shaped doughnuts, the hibatchi lunch, the steak dinner with a bottle of wine and cake balls dipped in chocolate.

I'm paying for it now.

Not only am I sick as hell from all that fat, but I don't fit in my skinny pants anymore. I have two pairs of pants that fit and don't make me feel like an Ice Road Trucker needs to be putting an "Oversize Load" sign on my rear end.


Why yes, yes I do have an unhealthy obsession with Ice Road Truckers. Disregard this level of nerdiness (more like AWESOMENESS).

In other news, my sister got herself a boyfriend. Even more shocking, I adore her boyfriend. He's at almost the same level of epic as I am. 98% to my 100%. Anyway, the two of them will be visiting next month and so he and I agreed to a friendly bet. Biggest Loser. Let's do this, Evan.

In Which I Curse The Holidays

It is what every dieter hates to see. Turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie. Ham, macaroni and cheese, corn, pecan pie. Chocolate in the stocking. Birthday cake on my birthday, which falls between the two holidays.Tons of alcohol and appetizers at my best friend's house to ring in the new year.

I have gained twelve pounds in the past 6 weeks. And my ass has grown from the size of Rhode Island to the size of Texas. My double chin is coming back and my spare tire has gone from a bicycle tire to that of a monster truck.

Enough self-hatred and beating myself up. Time to do something about it.

The good thing is that right after the holidays, New Year’s comes. I usually make several resolutions, which haven’t always been achieved in the past, but this year, actually got done. I finished my book. I lost a crap ton of weight. Forty-five pounds, to be exact. That’s a lot of weight. The size of a small child, at the least. I started being more active. I got into nursing school and have done well so far.

Even with the weight gain, I’m really only 15 pounds from my ultimate goal. It was suggested to me to try out Insanity, a DVD workout, which I’ve heard can leave people vomiting and wishing to die.

Sounds perfect.

In Which The Wagon Runs Over Me

Beckie's diet=EPIC FAIL

I don't even want to talk about it.

What I do want to talk about is that this is only a minor setback, I think. I'm going to Hell-Mart to go buy a new scale (I returned the other one, it broke...guess how THAT made me feel), buy some more Slim-Fast, fill the Halloween candy dish with apples that we picked yesterday at the orchard instead of the yummy goodness that is Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (mmmmmmm) and start hitting the gym...hard.

While browsing around at Goodwill (don't judge, you know you do it too), I found 4 new pairs of workout shorts/capris (no more wardrobe malfunctions! YAY!), some tops, and the "Thighs of Steel" dvd. And a yoga one too.

Plus, I went to the doctor and he told me some bullshit about how exercising releases endorphins and so I'll both feel better physically and mentally and yadda, yadda, yadda, and then actually prescribed to me that I work out for an hour and a half five times a week, then to at least walk for a 1/2 hour those other two days.

Seriously dude???

We'll see how long this lasts. But depending on what the newest evil scale tells me tomorrow morning, I only have about 15-20 pounds left to reach my goal of 160.

If I don't reach it, it'll be time to talk to the plastic surgeon. I hear they do payment plans.

In Which I Do Not Die

Today was the second day of this five week period of nursing classes. For those of you who do not know me in real life, I am a first year nursing student. The school that I go to does their program in five week sections, so I have three "classes" in one semester. This means I am doing the same amount of work in one five week section as a student in a four year program does in their one semester. Doesn't exactly seem fair, eh? Oh well.

Anyway, so second day of class. Yesterday was the first, and my husband had to work, so I made the decision to wake up at 0400 to go to the gym. I was so tired when I got there that the entire workout was just half-ass. Burned about 250 calories in 45 minutes. Not bad, but not great.

Today, even though I tried, I just could not get out of the bed at 0400. So I got up at 5;30 and got the kids ready for school, then went to class myself. But class was only til noon, so I went right after class.

My treadmill was taken, but my sheer rage that came up was quickly soothed by the friendly man who was working out with me. He actually lives in the same building as I do, just on the third floor. I've seen him around, but never had the chance to really talk to him. We had a wonderful half hour of conversation while I killed myself on the e-is-for-extreme-lliptical. We discussed the weather, how much I miss New Hampshire, my kids, my school, what he did for a living before being retired, politics...it was nice to have a workout buddy. He even praised me for my workout skillz.

I love this man.

So anyway, after my new buddy finished his workout, I hit the weights (figuratively) and grunted over my now 20 reps instead of 10. I am upping the ante, as they say. 20 pounds at 20 reps for all my arm exercises, 70 pounds at 20 reps for my legs (people always comment on my fantastic calves. not exactly what I would like to be complimented on, but I'll take what I can get).

After the weights, I went to the treadmill. The treadmill and I have a love-hate relationship. I love the way I feel after I work out. I'm energized, I feel like I can take on the world, and I see the calories shedding away via that little kcal counter. However, I feel like my knees are going to fall off, that my ass might begin flapping in the wind, and when I look down I can see my thighs jiggling if I'm wearing shorts. I suppose that I just choose to look at the positive and try not to peek down at my thunder thighs.

So I get on there, and I'm doing a warm up, get bored with the 2 mph walk, bump it up to 4 mph, then get bored with that and start a jog. I don't know what mph I was running, I was too busy trying not to fall and remembering how my father taught me to breathe (in-in, out-out) that I wasn't focused on that. But I'm listening to Taio Cruz's "Break Your Heart", The Veronica's Untouched, and Joan Jett's Bad Reputation and I'm running like my head is on fire and my ass is catching. Finally I look down and I see that I've done a mile...IN LESS THAN TWELVE MINUTES!!

Commence celebration. I'll wait while you do the "Beckie Happy Dance".

Granted, it was a 11:54 mile, but that's the fastest I've ever done a mile! Finally, it seems all this hard work is paying off. I did however, have a mocha frappe and a cinnamon melt with my best friend before class this morning, but I am trying to avoid the feelings of guilt I have over that.

Life is good.

In Which I Learn a Valuable Lesson

Today Dan had to work, so I went through the early morning chaos alone, which always sucks. Get the kids up, eating breakfast, get their clothes, tie their shoes, assure daughter that the reason her tummy hurts is just because she doesn't want to go to school, make sure everyone has their backpacks, clean up breakfast, fight with daughter to brush her hair, cuddle the boy who doesn't want to leave Mommy, find my keys, grab a Slim-Fast, realize that I'm naked, get dressed and throw contacts in, find sunglasses, lose keys, find iPod for workout, tie my sneakers, tear up house looking for keys, remember my phone is on the charger, then realize that the keys are in my hand all before 0645 when my daughter has to be on the bus.

An extremely organized friend of mine wants to come and organize my life because organizing makes her happy. I told her good luck.

Anyway. So after I dropped both my kids off I went to the gym. When I was hurrying to get dressed, I put on my gray yoga pants because I haven’t done laundry so all my clothes are dirty because I wanted to. In doing this, I learned some VERY VALUABLE LESSONS today during my workout.

Lesson Number 1: Girls sweat. This isn't like the movies where the skinny girls get off their treadmill and come off smelling like roses. I'm freaking drenched and no flower would ever wish to smell like I do right now.

Lesson Number 2: When you go to workout, bring a towel with you. Said sweat leaves marks on the gym equipment and then you're stuck wiping it with your shirt, hoping that no one sees you.

Lesson Number 3: Do not wear gray yoga pants to work out when you sweat like a 350 pound man because it will look like you peed your pants. Case in point...


Lesson Number 4: Even if you have been working out for over a month, this is no reason to attempt to run at an incline of 7% at 8mph. If you do, this will happen...

You will die.

Dear Mom, if you are reading this, please send some new workout shorts, maybe a tank top or two, and some clinical strength, maximum power antiperspirant. Love, your sweaty daughter.

In Which An Old Guy Tells Me I Have A Nice Ass

After yesterday's startling discovery of being less than 180 pounds, I was pumped. I figured that I had to keep it up because my goal of 165 pounds is within reaching distance. I vowed to keep on the veggie diet, to continue going to the gym and resisting the yumminess that is everything in the Publix bakery.

I was up and at 'em early, dropping the kids off at the bus stop and daycare, trying to restrain from doing the now patented 'Beckie Happy Dance' as I pulled out of my son's daycare parking lot. I went home and sucked down a Slim-Fast so as to have something to work off, fooled around on facebook, played a round of 'The Price is Right', then headed to the gym. Try as I may, I didn't make it there before 9am.

Not getting to the gym before 9am meant one thing. The office was open. One of the downsides with working out at my apartment complex gym during office hours is that the staff does periodic tours with interested residents-to-be. The other downside is that both girls who work in the office are ridiculously thin. I'd kill to have either of their bodies, though one of them has a nasty girl-stashe. Wax that crap, woman!

But I digress.

So I'm literally running my ass off on the treadmill (I'm taking a break from the elliptical) and super slender non-stashe office chick comes into the gym, giving this old guy wearing shorts and black socks pulled halfway up his calf a tour. I pull one earbud out of my ear, trying to be respectful and say hello even though Muse's Uprising is blasting out of the tiny ear piece and I'm running with a 4% incline at 6 mph. Here's what happened:

Office chick: This is our gym, which is open 24 hours a day for our residents. This is Beckie, one of our residents who is here often.

Me: Hi, how are you?

Old guy: Doing better than you, I guess. Keep it up honey, soon your thighs will be as nice as your ass.

Me: ...

Office chick: Right. So the model apartment is right this way...

Awkward much? Such is my life.