02/18/2011
283.8 lbs
That was from like two days ago. Or maybe yesterday.
My ass is flat. And I mean very, very flat. We're talking square pizzabox flat. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Usually about this time (2:00 in the afternoon on a workday) I really start thinking about it. Most of the time I realize that I haven't stood to go to the bathroom, go to the printer or even go to get another cup of coffee. This is ungood. As a matter of fact, it's painful. My ass literally starts aching because I've been sitting on it for so long.
So I got a nudge this morning from one of my real life friends who has been allowed into the JAFG secret world. She reminds me that I've got people that actually do read this blog and that I have been neglecting it. Which has been quite a few times this year. She just had a baby. Well just = six months ago.
We got to chatting about how I had a dry spell on blog topics and that the only thing going on was my frustration on the fact that I wasn't exercising. No one to blame but me. It's been bothering me. I suck. Blah Blah Blah. Well, anyway, she's talking about her baby weight that she refers to as her "dog jowels" (I don't quite get that, but I also didn't ask her to elaborate). Now, mind you, I've seen FB pictures of the girl and she looks lovely. I tell her so. She says she's become a "Master At Camoflauge". MAC said "if I put HALF the effort into actually changing my body instead of hiding it - I'd be in a much better place". Amen, Sistah.
Oh. I should tell you this is all through Messenger which is like online instant texting.
So, being the good friend that I am, I offer to be a "workout inspire-er". She responds at almost the same time with the word ADVERSARY. The gauntlet was thrown down, my friends. The challenge was issued.
We both have access to Gyms and weights. Her weights just happen to come in the form of a mini-human, which I do believe counts for the purpose of competition.MAC and I live about an hour and a half apart so I don't see her all the time. Actually, I see her like 3-4 times a year. We're going to be in Big Southern City in early June and have made that the official "Finish Line". Not that I'll lose all the weight I need to by then, of course, but we're gonna see how much we can do to ourselves (in a positive way) by that time.
Since we don't live close by there's no working out in the same room at the same time which is kinda a bummer. Right now, I have no workout buddy. BB is officially married now and the newlywed version of her is WAAAYYYY different than the fiancee version. That's another story, though. SAG spends all her time either playing tennis or going to sporting events. She's never available (in her defense, her tennis team did make it to the national championships last year). So, I will be working out alone. Starting tonight.
I know my ass is happy about getting some workout and, let's face it, I need to limber up a bit for a certain visit in two weeks (wink, wink). So, I committed to 30 minutes for the elliptical. I also may be meeting a friend out for a beer afterward. I hope they don't cancel each other out.
I am going visit Concierge Gym on Saturday, too. I will even try the weights then. Eee. Gad. I wonder what taking a half a xanax will do to a workout? I have serious anxiety about walking into a gym alone. And since it's been so long, I have to face that anxiety all over again like I've never conquered it before. Well, It's all good. I'll face my fear and will come out the other side feeling damn good. And maybe that won't have anything to do with the xanax.
Oh. If you look up ADVERSARY through Google Search, this is what comes up first:
ad·ver·sar·y/ˈadvərˌserē/Noun
1. One's opponent in a contest, conflict, or dispute.
2. The Devil.
MAC, I'm picking Option 2.
-jafg
Showing posts with label SAG. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SAG. Show all posts
Friday, February 18, 2011
Monday, December 20, 2010
Oh. Fudge.
12/20/2010
281.4 lbs
I didn't want to weigh this morning, but I did it anyway. For the sake of the Blog.
Thursday night I made a chicken casserole. I had it at a Christmas dinner earlier this month and decided to make it for dinner myself. It's pretty basic. Chicken, campbell's soup, sour cream, and crushed crackers on top. And a stick of butter. Yeah, a whole stick. Well, I substituted panko bread crumbs for the crackers cause I didn't have any Ritz on hand. I looked at the "1 stick of butter" several times trying to figure out what to do about it. I then decided to use less-than-a-whole-but-more-than-a-half-a-stick of butter. I melted it, poured it on and baked the dish in the oven. Two hours later, after eating said casserole, I was miserable to say the least. I stayed home on Friday with a still upset tummy.
This also leads to the feeling of guilt (which I've had more than a few times lately) about my eating habits. I equate it to quitting smoking. When I fail to resist the urge to smoke, I feel really bad about it later--and sometimes while I'm doing it--because it's bad for me. There are no redeeming qualities. None. Not one thing about smoking a cigarette is good. But, I do enjoy it. Love it, even, when the circumstances are right. Granted, the enjoyment is fewer and farther between times and I really don't like the idea of smoking stone cold sober (stress is still a HUGE trigger though) but the fact remains, I enjoy a good smoke like I enjoy a good glass of wine. Or Jack and Coke.
My point with all this is unhealthy eating (like NEARLY a stick of butter in a recipe) is so totally ungood. No redeeming qualities. Nothing good can come from it. Thus the Friday ick-fest. This also takes it's toll mentally. I'm left alone and to my own devices to obsess over what I've done and whatnot. Anyway, it can leave a person in a rather insecure state of mind.
This all leads up to a party Saturday night. SAG (that's Skinny Athletic Girl just as a reminder) and I are going to this shindig together. We decide that if it's a bust, we'll head out on the town. No worries. Well, it's a bizzare group of people and tons of free good booze. So, we stay. Bonus, there's a boy here that I find mentally stimulating. He's very much an adult and easy to converse with and makes a hell of a drink. Laid back, educated, funny, basically, someone either to spend a "safer" fun-filled night with (don't judge!) or consider expanding to a more regular friend thing and possibly connect on facebook. That's what you do these days, btw. You friend people. You don't exchange numbers. It's hard to get used to.
As you may already know, I'm certainly not a wall flower. I'm a confident 30something woman. My size very rarely is a thought in my mind when I'm out on a town and meeting people. Never has been. (Online dating is a whole other topic all together and one we'll discuss at a different time). Remember, though, I'm still fighting a few fresh food demons here.
So, I'm talking with Mr. Potential all night, floating back and forth among the guests who aren't necessarily people that I'd be around regularly but still having a good time. Yes, I may be a bit of a snob, but seriously, who isn't? As the night progresses, things get weird. People are drinking more and well, I realize that the folks I do know are dwindling. SAG has gone to a show and I decided to stay (let's face it, because of Mr. Potential) and continue with the merriment. Before I know it, the hostess is making out with another chick and a male gay couple inform me they like taking women to bed.
W. T. F. I should leave, but for whatever lack-of-judgement reason I do not.
Let me state here that whatever someone's preferences are or are not when it comes to bedroom, does not bother me. Truly. However, I was not prepared for where this party was heading. There's no judgement here, but it was a freakin "Christmas Party"! None of the Christmas parties I've ever attended have ended up like this.
I decide to go outside, smoke a cigarette with Mr. Potential (I've been drinking) and down a shot of tequilla (I've been drinking). Tequilla is never a good thing. I still don't know how I got the shot in the first place. Then, a 6-foot Amazonian 23-year-old comes outside and starts talking about ulcers and migranes. I have a tendancy to give free advice even in my most sober of states. This night was not one of those states. I try to coherently tell her she's way to young to have migranes and ulcers and she tells me it's because she had gastric bypass surgery at 17. She says this like three times before it hits me. "17?!" I say, (again, standing next to Mr. Potential) "17! she says and then procedes with this statement: "I can tell that you're overweight...".
She said some other things after that, but I don't recall actually hearing the words.
Let me let you know how this went down in my head. Have you seen "The Christmas Story"? Remember the scene with the flat tire and Ralphie gets to be a big boy and help his dad change it? And he somehow drops all the lugnuts and also drops the f-bomb "Oh Fudge" line? Well, that slo-mo-drawn-out-hyper-pronounced speaking is how it sounded in my head when I hear the "you're overwieght" part from 23YO Glamazon Chick. To say awkward is an understatement. I'm maintaining my composure, actually trying to sustain the conversation like it's not a big deal, and about 1 minute later, Mr. Potential wanders back inside and I drink more. Like any sensible girl would. Oy. Vey.
I am now so far out of my comfort zone. Straight people are gay. Gay people are straight. And I've been pronounced "overweight" by a 23YO Glamazon in front of Mr. Potential. Bye Bye Healthy Ego. I'm reeling inside. My emotional pshyche is in a tailspin. My head may even be spinning a little from the whole adult beverages thing, as well. And then, the tequilla shot kicks in. Needless to say, tequilla jafg isn't a pretty jafg. She's mean. And now that she feels exposed/rejected, she's on a warpath.
Here's the deal, when you're drunk you make an ass out of yourself. Sometimes, it's remembered as the life of the party, and other times it's remembered as "that crazy chick last night". It's going to end one way or the other. Trust me, this comes from years of experience. I usually stay on the side of life of the party. I'm proficient enough in my 30something years to know where the line is between the two. Well. Saturday night, I crossed it.
I can't really bare re-living the humiliation of the rest of the evening which lasted about 20 more minutes. There were some inappropriate comments I make to The Man Formerly Known as Mr. Potential which led to overheard inappropriate comments and then I left. What the FUDGE was I thinking? I wasn't. I was hurt, embarrassed and wanting to pick a fight. The last part can be partially blamed on the environment and on the tequilla. But, Holy Crazy Parties, I was so not prepared for that evening.
Look, I have tough skin and have dealt with emotional blows enough that I can somewhat quickly recover; or successfully compartmentalize, anyway. Humiliation, either self inflicted or from external sources, isn't easy to admit. I'm trying to find something funny about all this, but really, right now, I can't. I'm a grown-up. I've put my "big girl panties" on so to speak [which really takes on a whole new meaning in this context] and moved forward and won't be attending any more events at that house again. But I'm still licking my wounds.
Thanks for listening. I can't say that I really feel better, but at least I got a blog post out of it.
Also, Mr. Potenial will forevermore be referred to as Mr. Douche.
-jafg
281.4 lbs
I didn't want to weigh this morning, but I did it anyway. For the sake of the Blog.
Thursday night I made a chicken casserole. I had it at a Christmas dinner earlier this month and decided to make it for dinner myself. It's pretty basic. Chicken, campbell's soup, sour cream, and crushed crackers on top. And a stick of butter. Yeah, a whole stick. Well, I substituted panko bread crumbs for the crackers cause I didn't have any Ritz on hand. I looked at the "1 stick of butter" several times trying to figure out what to do about it. I then decided to use less-than-a-whole-but-more-than-a-half-a-stick of butter. I melted it, poured it on and baked the dish in the oven. Two hours later, after eating said casserole, I was miserable to say the least. I stayed home on Friday with a still upset tummy.
This also leads to the feeling of guilt (which I've had more than a few times lately) about my eating habits. I equate it to quitting smoking. When I fail to resist the urge to smoke, I feel really bad about it later--and sometimes while I'm doing it--because it's bad for me. There are no redeeming qualities. None. Not one thing about smoking a cigarette is good. But, I do enjoy it. Love it, even, when the circumstances are right. Granted, the enjoyment is fewer and farther between times and I really don't like the idea of smoking stone cold sober (stress is still a HUGE trigger though) but the fact remains, I enjoy a good smoke like I enjoy a good glass of wine. Or Jack and Coke.
My point with all this is unhealthy eating (like NEARLY a stick of butter in a recipe) is so totally ungood. No redeeming qualities. Nothing good can come from it. Thus the Friday ick-fest. This also takes it's toll mentally. I'm left alone and to my own devices to obsess over what I've done and whatnot. Anyway, it can leave a person in a rather insecure state of mind.
This all leads up to a party Saturday night. SAG (that's Skinny Athletic Girl just as a reminder) and I are going to this shindig together. We decide that if it's a bust, we'll head out on the town. No worries. Well, it's a bizzare group of people and tons of free good booze. So, we stay. Bonus, there's a boy here that I find mentally stimulating. He's very much an adult and easy to converse with and makes a hell of a drink. Laid back, educated, funny, basically, someone either to spend a "safer" fun-filled night with (don't judge!) or consider expanding to a more regular friend thing and possibly connect on facebook. That's what you do these days, btw. You friend people. You don't exchange numbers. It's hard to get used to.
As you may already know, I'm certainly not a wall flower. I'm a confident 30something woman. My size very rarely is a thought in my mind when I'm out on a town and meeting people. Never has been. (Online dating is a whole other topic all together and one we'll discuss at a different time). Remember, though, I'm still fighting a few fresh food demons here.
So, I'm talking with Mr. Potential all night, floating back and forth among the guests who aren't necessarily people that I'd be around regularly but still having a good time. Yes, I may be a bit of a snob, but seriously, who isn't? As the night progresses, things get weird. People are drinking more and well, I realize that the folks I do know are dwindling. SAG has gone to a show and I decided to stay (let's face it, because of Mr. Potential) and continue with the merriment. Before I know it, the hostess is making out with another chick and a male gay couple inform me they like taking women to bed.
W. T. F. I should leave, but for whatever lack-of-judgement reason I do not.
Let me state here that whatever someone's preferences are or are not when it comes to bedroom, does not bother me. Truly. However, I was not prepared for where this party was heading. There's no judgement here, but it was a freakin "Christmas Party"! None of the Christmas parties I've ever attended have ended up like this.
I decide to go outside, smoke a cigarette with Mr. Potential (I've been drinking) and down a shot of tequilla (I've been drinking). Tequilla is never a good thing. I still don't know how I got the shot in the first place. Then, a 6-foot Amazonian 23-year-old comes outside and starts talking about ulcers and migranes. I have a tendancy to give free advice even in my most sober of states. This night was not one of those states. I try to coherently tell her she's way to young to have migranes and ulcers and she tells me it's because she had gastric bypass surgery at 17. She says this like three times before it hits me. "17?!" I say, (again, standing next to Mr. Potential) "17! she says and then procedes with this statement: "I can tell that you're overweight...".
She said some other things after that, but I don't recall actually hearing the words.
Let me let you know how this went down in my head. Have you seen "The Christmas Story"? Remember the scene with the flat tire and Ralphie gets to be a big boy and help his dad change it? And he somehow drops all the lugnuts and also drops the f-bomb "Oh Fudge" line? Well, that slo-mo-drawn-out-hyper-pronounced speaking is how it sounded in my head when I hear the "you're overwieght" part from 23YO Glamazon Chick. To say awkward is an understatement. I'm maintaining my composure, actually trying to sustain the conversation like it's not a big deal, and about 1 minute later, Mr. Potential wanders back inside and I drink more. Like any sensible girl would. Oy. Vey.
I am now so far out of my comfort zone. Straight people are gay. Gay people are straight. And I've been pronounced "overweight" by a 23YO Glamazon in front of Mr. Potential. Bye Bye Healthy Ego. I'm reeling inside. My emotional pshyche is in a tailspin. My head may even be spinning a little from the whole adult beverages thing, as well. And then, the tequilla shot kicks in. Needless to say, tequilla jafg isn't a pretty jafg. She's mean. And now that she feels exposed/rejected, she's on a warpath.
Here's the deal, when you're drunk you make an ass out of yourself. Sometimes, it's remembered as the life of the party, and other times it's remembered as "that crazy chick last night". It's going to end one way or the other. Trust me, this comes from years of experience. I usually stay on the side of life of the party. I'm proficient enough in my 30something years to know where the line is between the two. Well. Saturday night, I crossed it.
I can't really bare re-living the humiliation of the rest of the evening which lasted about 20 more minutes. There were some inappropriate comments I make to The Man Formerly Known as Mr. Potential which led to overheard inappropriate comments and then I left. What the FUDGE was I thinking? I wasn't. I was hurt, embarrassed and wanting to pick a fight. The last part can be partially blamed on the environment and on the tequilla. But, Holy Crazy Parties, I was so not prepared for that evening.
Look, I have tough skin and have dealt with emotional blows enough that I can somewhat quickly recover; or successfully compartmentalize, anyway. Humiliation, either self inflicted or from external sources, isn't easy to admit. I'm trying to find something funny about all this, but really, right now, I can't. I'm a grown-up. I've put my "big girl panties" on so to speak [which really takes on a whole new meaning in this context] and moved forward and won't be attending any more events at that house again. But I'm still licking my wounds.
Thanks for listening. I can't say that I really feel better, but at least I got a blog post out of it.
Also, Mr. Potenial will forevermore be referred to as Mr. Douche.
-jafg
Friday, August 13, 2010
Failure Is Not An Option Except in Fashion
08/13/10
275.5 lbs
I had that coming. Without regaling you with all the gory details, I consumed about 2400 calories yesterday and had no extracurricular activities. Half of those were after 8:00pm. Shame on me.
Happy Friday The 13th, Y'all! Let the good times roll! The bachelorette party is this weekend. It kicks off tomorrow at 10:00am when we hit the road and goes until we come home Sunday afternoon. I may be a little concerned. SAG and I went out and bought party favors for the evening. Cheesey little things that will totally make us all the cliche of the evening. It is going to be SO much fun! I even bought some new clothes.
I went to three stores last night: Avenue, Steinmart and Kohl's. I struck out at Avenue. More times than not, I do. But, they've got cheap big-girl clothes and when they work, they really work. I tried a lot of clothes on and this is the first time I've done that since my 20 lb drop. I hit my closet up and have a few new things that work great, but I haven't gone shopping. This was a pleasant surprise. I can almost fit comfortably in 22/24 clothes. I was pushing a 28. Twenty. Eight. Sheesh.
I can get the clothes on, but they are still snug enough that they don't pass the sit-down test. When I try a top I always have to sit down. If it looks good when I'm sitting (refering to the jiggle in the middle) then the top is a keeper. If it doesn't and I'm not going to be standing all night, well, I don't buy it. Same goes with pants.
Anyway. I wanted to tell you all that I even tried on a dress. I haven't worn a dress since I was forced to wear one as MOH for BFF's wedding in 2005. That's also the lowest I can remember my weight in a long time being 265 lbs. And since it was a Bridesmaid dress, I don't know that it counts. Well, I really want to wear a dress for BB and Her Beau's wedding in early October. So I figured I better try one on and see what it looks like. It wasn't for the wedding, it was just for casual wear. It was like a tanktop with wide straps at the top. Just below the bust line it had a large elastic-gathered band (same material, just all gathered and elasticized) and then the material fell to just below my knee. It was a 22/24. A bit snug really. While everything did work, I needed a size larger for the elastic. The way it fell made me look 20 months pregnant. Ungood. I wasn't discouraged because I actually got a 22/24 on my body. Anyway, after an hour I walked out of Avenue empty-handed and headed to Steinmart.
Steinmart was so much more productive and was less time. I was also more willing to pick up smaller sized clothings this trip. It's usually hard to find anything there because they only go to 24 or 3x. I've gotten 3x tops but never found anything else of interest or that would work. Well...this time I found several tops and even a dress that had great wedding potential. It was a 24, but I figured if it worked but was just a little snug, I'd still get it anyway. I went to the dressing room with all my found treasures--we're talking a serious armful here--and the freakin place was under construction and therefore not available. Damnit. So, I reviewed everything I had and kept the dress and two tops. I'd try everyting on at home and take back what didn't work. One of the two tops is a sure thing, the other is going to the alterations today to see if they can do a quick change on it and the dress is a no go. Simply put, I didn't fill it out where I should and did where I shouldn't. Bygones.
Kohl's was good too. I found a shirt that flattered my bustline like nothing ever has before. It is made to fall perfectly in the back and front while it is a plunging neckline and hugs The Girls. I felt sexy in this top. The only thing is it doesn't pass the sit-down test. It will, but I have to fidgit around quite a bit to make it happen. Plus I've decided to wear a pair of black capris which are slightly too tight in the waist (will help prevent overeating and they look very flattering when I stand) so the combination may be too much. I bought it anyway. I want to wear this top SO bad this weekend. I just don't want to be one of those fat girls who wears skin-tight clothes and has rolls hanging out everywhere. You know which ones I'm talking about. I mean, I am all about loving yourself and being comfortable in your own skin, but there is such a thing as fashion sense. Come on, already! Look in a mirror and get a clue.
If I decide that the combination is a no-go, well, I can take solice in the fact that I will be able to wear it in the very near future. Very near. Like on my trip to Chicago in October. Woohoo!
As I look back over the past two weeks I realize a lot of what I've been reading and even in my own experience is about not meeting challenges either set forth by ourselves or others have given us. Failing. I've been saying there is no such thing as Failing, it's just modified planning.
After my little rant about fat girls and too-tight clothes...I stand corrected.
-jafg
275.5 lbs
I had that coming. Without regaling you with all the gory details, I consumed about 2400 calories yesterday and had no extracurricular activities. Half of those were after 8:00pm. Shame on me.
Happy Friday The 13th, Y'all! Let the good times roll! The bachelorette party is this weekend. It kicks off tomorrow at 10:00am when we hit the road and goes until we come home Sunday afternoon. I may be a little concerned. SAG and I went out and bought party favors for the evening. Cheesey little things that will totally make us all the cliche of the evening. It is going to be SO much fun! I even bought some new clothes.
I went to three stores last night: Avenue, Steinmart and Kohl's. I struck out at Avenue. More times than not, I do. But, they've got cheap big-girl clothes and when they work, they really work. I tried a lot of clothes on and this is the first time I've done that since my 20 lb drop. I hit my closet up and have a few new things that work great, but I haven't gone shopping. This was a pleasant surprise. I can almost fit comfortably in 22/24 clothes. I was pushing a 28. Twenty. Eight. Sheesh.
I can get the clothes on, but they are still snug enough that they don't pass the sit-down test. When I try a top I always have to sit down. If it looks good when I'm sitting (refering to the jiggle in the middle) then the top is a keeper. If it doesn't and I'm not going to be standing all night, well, I don't buy it. Same goes with pants.
Anyway. I wanted to tell you all that I even tried on a dress. I haven't worn a dress since I was forced to wear one as MOH for BFF's wedding in 2005. That's also the lowest I can remember my weight in a long time being 265 lbs. And since it was a Bridesmaid dress, I don't know that it counts. Well, I really want to wear a dress for BB and Her Beau's wedding in early October. So I figured I better try one on and see what it looks like. It wasn't for the wedding, it was just for casual wear. It was like a tanktop with wide straps at the top. Just below the bust line it had a large elastic-gathered band (same material, just all gathered and elasticized) and then the material fell to just below my knee. It was a 22/24. A bit snug really. While everything did work, I needed a size larger for the elastic. The way it fell made me look 20 months pregnant. Ungood. I wasn't discouraged because I actually got a 22/24 on my body. Anyway, after an hour I walked out of Avenue empty-handed and headed to Steinmart.
Steinmart was so much more productive and was less time. I was also more willing to pick up smaller sized clothings this trip. It's usually hard to find anything there because they only go to 24 or 3x. I've gotten 3x tops but never found anything else of interest or that would work. Well...this time I found several tops and even a dress that had great wedding potential. It was a 24, but I figured if it worked but was just a little snug, I'd still get it anyway. I went to the dressing room with all my found treasures--we're talking a serious armful here--and the freakin place was under construction and therefore not available. Damnit. So, I reviewed everything I had and kept the dress and two tops. I'd try everyting on at home and take back what didn't work. One of the two tops is a sure thing, the other is going to the alterations today to see if they can do a quick change on it and the dress is a no go. Simply put, I didn't fill it out where I should and did where I shouldn't. Bygones.
Kohl's was good too. I found a shirt that flattered my bustline like nothing ever has before. It is made to fall perfectly in the back and front while it is a plunging neckline and hugs The Girls. I felt sexy in this top. The only thing is it doesn't pass the sit-down test. It will, but I have to fidgit around quite a bit to make it happen. Plus I've decided to wear a pair of black capris which are slightly too tight in the waist (will help prevent overeating and they look very flattering when I stand) so the combination may be too much. I bought it anyway. I want to wear this top SO bad this weekend. I just don't want to be one of those fat girls who wears skin-tight clothes and has rolls hanging out everywhere. You know which ones I'm talking about. I mean, I am all about loving yourself and being comfortable in your own skin, but there is such a thing as fashion sense. Come on, already! Look in a mirror and get a clue.
If I decide that the combination is a no-go, well, I can take solice in the fact that I will be able to wear it in the very near future. Very near. Like on my trip to Chicago in October. Woohoo!
As I look back over the past two weeks I realize a lot of what I've been reading and even in my own experience is about not meeting challenges either set forth by ourselves or others have given us. Failing. I've been saying there is no such thing as Failing, it's just modified planning.
After my little rant about fat girls and too-tight clothes...I stand corrected.
-jafg
Monday, August 2, 2010
My Girl Friday
08/02/10
281.6 lbs
>:o|.
So, it's a good thing I wasn't lying about The Game Plan. I got a lot of responses from that little teaser post.
I also got a lot of responses from Help Wanted. I want to thank each of you on the feedback on my dating bio. I made some recommended changes and we'll see how it goes. I signed up for three months. 90 days should be enough to tell me if it's working. I'll be sure to share all the lovely ups and downs of that experience. Who Knows. Maybe it'll lead to another blog.
Well. I want to begin by saying that having followers is inspirational. Having commenters is, like, unbelieveable. My interaction with my Tweeple is always heartwarming and fun. I count you all as my support system and it's so great to know you're out there cheering me on. I'm cheering for you too! (Even though I did lose a follower over the weekend. Sadface.)
But, sometimes I need a little bit more. Which is why I sent out the bat signal last week. What I need is someone(s) to prod me with a cattle poker and make sure I'm getting off my ass when I'm supposed to. That means in the morning when I'd rather be in bed, or at night when I'd rather be watching TV. Or you know, all the other times I need that motivation. SAG is very wrapped up in tennis (she does all these tourneys which is great for her, but she never works out at the gym now) and BB is wrapped up with wedding stuff and is working out with Her Beau. That leaves me with myself. And between you and me, I can rationalize my way out of anything. And I mean Anything.
Well that leads us up to The Game Plan. I'd like to introduce you to Team JAFG. Please say hello to my little friends!
My Gal Tuesday
281.6 lbs
>:o|.
So, it's a good thing I wasn't lying about The Game Plan. I got a lot of responses from that little teaser post.
I also got a lot of responses from Help Wanted. I want to thank each of you on the feedback on my dating bio. I made some recommended changes and we'll see how it goes. I signed up for three months. 90 days should be enough to tell me if it's working. I'll be sure to share all the lovely ups and downs of that experience. Who Knows. Maybe it'll lead to another blog.
Well. I want to begin by saying that having followers is inspirational. Having commenters is, like, unbelieveable. My interaction with my Tweeple is always heartwarming and fun. I count you all as my support system and it's so great to know you're out there cheering me on. I'm cheering for you too! (Even though I did lose a follower over the weekend. Sadface.)
But, sometimes I need a little bit more. Which is why I sent out the bat signal last week. What I need is someone(s) to prod me with a cattle poker and make sure I'm getting off my ass when I'm supposed to. That means in the morning when I'd rather be in bed, or at night when I'd rather be watching TV. Or you know, all the other times I need that motivation. SAG is very wrapped up in tennis (she does all these tourneys which is great for her, but she never works out at the gym now) and BB is wrapped up with wedding stuff and is working out with Her Beau. That leaves me with myself. And between you and me, I can rationalize my way out of anything. And I mean Anything.
Well that leads us up to The Game Plan. I'd like to introduce you to Team JAFG. Please say hello to my little friends!
My Gal Monday
 |
| Kimmert http://anotherrunningmom.blogspot.com/ |
My Gal Tuesday
 |
| Angela Pea http://ktf-skinnyme.blogspot.com/ |
My Gal Wednesday
My Gal Thursday
 |
| Roxie http://theroxieproject.blogspot.com/ |
These beauties are my virtual workout buddies (henceforth known as VWBs). I was hoping for one and I got four! That's one for every workout. I'm giving each VWB my cell number and my name and we're doing real time one on one support. There are still some details to work out. Scheduling, Planning, Emailling and whatnots. As a matter of fact, Kimmert and I started this morning. We decided on 5:45am morning workout. Well, it turns out that Kimmert's 5:45 is about an hour before mine is. "How?" you ask? Well, she's an Eastern girl and I'm a Central girl. Fortunately, I slept through her first text. It's quite funny really.
Let's talk about that weight you see up there. I ate food like it was facing extinction this weekend. Friday night I had BBQ for takeout. Saturday, I hit up fast food breakfast and then went to a wedding Saturday night. A Catholic Wedding. At 7:00pm. With an open bar. We left the reception (which had a shrimp and grits bar among other things) around 11:30 and hit an "after party". It was at a neighborhood hang out. It's always great to show up to one of those places all dressed up in about 4 cars. We stayed there until it closed and then a smaller group headed to an "after hours" place. Needless to say, I didn't get home until after 4:00am (which, btw, would be 5:00am Kimmert time). I don't know if I told you this before, but I have a party rule: If you're home before 4:00am it's still the night before; if you're home after 4:00am it's the next day. I didn't know I still had it in me to be honest.
A night of one too many leads to a day of poor eating choices. You may not understand this, but that's ok; you don't really need to. My Hangover required two things: A breakfast burrito and a creamy milky something. I opted for a milkshake. When you feel like I did, you have to listen to what Hangover wants. And then, a nap (read as coma) with Kitty on the couch and then a creamy pasta dish from Macaroni Grill for dinner. YIKES. I am choosing not to think about the calories and saturated fat content of all the digestables I had. Actually I don't have to. I simply had to get on the scale this morning.
I'm not beating myself up because I did get up this morning. It wasn't exactly 5:45. After realizing that Kimmert had already done her workout before God was awake, I rationalized myself to sleep until 6:45. Then I laid in bed with open eyeballs and finally forced myself up 10 minutes later (6:55am). I knew I didn't have time for my 30 minutes of Elliptical. I didn't puss out though. I made myself do something that I never never ever do. I did crunches. Twenty of those bastards. I have so much junk in my front-trunk that I forget I even have abdominal muscles so this has been a real shock to the system. I then did 5 pushups. Yes, they were girl push-ups or "Pink Push-ups" as I like to call them, but still, I did them. And then I did these 5 bicycle exercise things. It's where you're on your back and you lift your legs up like you'd be sitting on a bike. You then push one leg straight leaving the other at a 90* angle. You hold the position for like 10 seconds and then you rotate legs. Two leg movements one count. It's a lot harder than you may realize. My thigh muscles are talking to me a bit this afternoon.
Since Angela Pea and I both use the YMCA for our gyms, she's my gym VWB. That way, I can text her from the class and not feel like I'm all alone in that big scary room. It'll be on Tuesdays after work. My choices are Body Pump or Cardioenergy. Truth be told, I'm a little scared of both of these. They sound like a real ass kicker. I'm open to suggestions on which of the two I should take. I'm also going to wear a sleeveless shirt. Maybe.
I'm still working out the details about Wednesday and Thursday (pretty much those two gals are learning about their official team placement through this blog...Hi Ladies!). Amanda as indicated something about weights and resistance training. I have those circuit machines that perhaps we can work out a routine on.
This doesn't mean that I'm only in contact with my VWBs on the assigned days. Oh no. We'll be in contact on a very regular basis. Via texts, emails, what-have-yous. This just helps me really stay on track and keep the variety going.
You may be wondering about the other days of the week. Well, when I was exercising before I didn't have a problem getting to the Concierge Gym on Saturday or Sunday. Which brings me to
My pants fit too tightly not to.
-jafg
Let's talk about that weight you see up there. I ate food like it was facing extinction this weekend. Friday night I had BBQ for takeout. Saturday, I hit up fast food breakfast and then went to a wedding Saturday night. A Catholic Wedding. At 7:00pm. With an open bar. We left the reception (which had a shrimp and grits bar among other things) around 11:30 and hit an "after party". It was at a neighborhood hang out. It's always great to show up to one of those places all dressed up in about 4 cars. We stayed there until it closed and then a smaller group headed to an "after hours" place. Needless to say, I didn't get home until after 4:00am (which, btw, would be 5:00am Kimmert time). I don't know if I told you this before, but I have a party rule: If you're home before 4:00am it's still the night before; if you're home after 4:00am it's the next day. I didn't know I still had it in me to be honest.
A night of one too many leads to a day of poor eating choices. You may not understand this, but that's ok; you don't really need to. My Hangover required two things: A breakfast burrito and a creamy milky something. I opted for a milkshake. When you feel like I did, you have to listen to what Hangover wants. And then, a nap (read as coma) with Kitty on the couch and then a creamy pasta dish from Macaroni Grill for dinner. YIKES. I am choosing not to think about the calories and saturated fat content of all the digestables I had. Actually I don't have to. I simply had to get on the scale this morning.
I'm not beating myself up because I did get up this morning. It wasn't exactly 5:45. After realizing that Kimmert had already done her workout before God was awake, I rationalized myself to sleep until 6:45. Then I laid in bed with open eyeballs and finally forced myself up 10 minutes later (6:55am). I knew I didn't have time for my 30 minutes of Elliptical. I didn't puss out though. I made myself do something that I never never ever do. I did crunches. Twenty of those bastards. I have so much junk in my front-trunk that I forget I even have abdominal muscles so this has been a real shock to the system. I then did 5 pushups. Yes, they were girl push-ups or "Pink Push-ups" as I like to call them, but still, I did them. And then I did these 5 bicycle exercise things. It's where you're on your back and you lift your legs up like you'd be sitting on a bike. You then push one leg straight leaving the other at a 90* angle. You hold the position for like 10 seconds and then you rotate legs. Two leg movements one count. It's a lot harder than you may realize. My thigh muscles are talking to me a bit this afternoon.
Since Angela Pea and I both use the YMCA for our gyms, she's my gym VWB. That way, I can text her from the class and not feel like I'm all alone in that big scary room. It'll be on Tuesdays after work. My choices are Body Pump or Cardioenergy. Truth be told, I'm a little scared of both of these. They sound like a real ass kicker. I'm open to suggestions on which of the two I should take. I'm also going to wear a sleeveless shirt. Maybe.
I'm still working out the details about Wednesday and Thursday (pretty much those two gals are learning about their official team placement through this blog...Hi Ladies!). Amanda as indicated something about weights and resistance training. I have those circuit machines that perhaps we can work out a routine on.
This doesn't mean that I'm only in contact with my VWBs on the assigned days. Oh no. We'll be in contact on a very regular basis. Via texts, emails, what-have-yous. This just helps me really stay on track and keep the variety going.
You may be wondering about the other days of the week. Well, when I was exercising before I didn't have a problem getting to the Concierge Gym on Saturday or Sunday. Which brings me to
My Gal Friday
BB has indicated a workout this evening may be possible so I'm planning on hitting the elliptical tonight.  |
| Me! |
My pants fit too tightly not to.
-jafg
Monday, July 12, 2010
Tempus Fugit (That's Latin, Y'all)
07/12/10
???.? lbs
I actually had some scale phobias this morning. I will overcome tomorrow.
I've made a workout date with BB tonight. None of us have been back to HHH class since May. Actually, since I decided to start paying for the gym, I've pretty much stopped going. Bye-Bye $40 a month!
I do wish a lot of you folks were around in my REAL life. I'm drawing on the support of a Skinny Athletic Girl (SAG) who has a freakin slammin hot body and a Blushing Bride (BB) who is 22 and still has a baby face. This means she hasn't fully finished morphing into physical adulthood. Neither of which understand a weight struggle like I've got. Well, that's not to say that SAG doesn't work her ass off every night to look as hot as she does. And BB and Her Beau do yoga twice a week now. I have seen her change over the past few months. Her face has started thinning out and the adorable little baby cheeks are vanishing just a bit. [Sadface.]
I am beginning to feel the weight of everything I need to do all at once. That's a lot of weight. I want to see 150. I'm not pushing for these 140s and 130s goals I see with other people. I'm not ready for that yet. Hell, I'll be glad with a 165 on the scale. But shit. One Hundred Twelve Pounds To Lose. That's a lot of weight. And that's based on an out-of-date-weight.
I'm not whining or whimpering, I'm documenting. I could choose not to write today. Or even until I decide to jump back on board, (which technically I am doing tonight because of my workout date). And, in case you haven't figured it out, that's what happened between the end of October to the beginning of March. I simply tuned out.
Well, I'm not doing that this time. I don't care if there are a few "gray days" in my blog world, I'm making myself stay connected. If I don't, if I drop everything, then 6 months from now I'll just be starting over again. And I'll be no happier for it.
Hmm. I'm ending the day on a happy note for all of you. There's this girl who started about 7 months ago on her new healthy lifestyle. I'm sure you all know and love Julia @ Jewlia Goulia. Well, her Monday has greeted her with a 100.1 LB LOSS! Go congratulate her. She TOTALLY deserves it! She's my hero of the day. Tell her to go back and buy that dress, too.
???.? lbs
I actually had some scale phobias this morning. I will overcome tomorrow.
I've made a workout date with BB tonight. None of us have been back to HHH class since May. Actually, since I decided to start paying for the gym, I've pretty much stopped going. Bye-Bye $40 a month!
I do wish a lot of you folks were around in my REAL life. I'm drawing on the support of a Skinny Athletic Girl (SAG) who has a freakin slammin hot body and a Blushing Bride (BB) who is 22 and still has a baby face. This means she hasn't fully finished morphing into physical adulthood. Neither of which understand a weight struggle like I've got. Well, that's not to say that SAG doesn't work her ass off every night to look as hot as she does. And BB and Her Beau do yoga twice a week now. I have seen her change over the past few months. Her face has started thinning out and the adorable little baby cheeks are vanishing just a bit. [Sadface.]
I am beginning to feel the weight of everything I need to do all at once. That's a lot of weight. I want to see 150. I'm not pushing for these 140s and 130s goals I see with other people. I'm not ready for that yet. Hell, I'll be glad with a 165 on the scale. But shit. One Hundred Twelve Pounds To Lose. That's a lot of weight. And that's based on an out-of-date-weight.
I'm not whining or whimpering, I'm documenting. I could choose not to write today. Or even until I decide to jump back on board, (which technically I am doing tonight because of my workout date). And, in case you haven't figured it out, that's what happened between the end of October to the beginning of March. I simply tuned out.
Well, I'm not doing that this time. I don't care if there are a few "gray days" in my blog world, I'm making myself stay connected. If I don't, if I drop everything, then 6 months from now I'll just be starting over again. And I'll be no happier for it.
Hmm. I'm ending the day on a happy note for all of you. There's this girl who started about 7 months ago on her new healthy lifestyle. I'm sure you all know and love Julia @ Jewlia Goulia. Well, her Monday has greeted her with a 100.1 LB LOSS! Go congratulate her. She TOTALLY deserves it! She's my hero of the day. Tell her to go back and buy that dress, too.
So. That got me thinking.
What will seven months get you?
-jafg
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Radio Silence
06/30/10
277.0 lbs
Take that, 278.0 lbs!
So I'm heading to Lakehouse this weekend. I'll be there Saturday and Sunday.BB and Her Beau, SAG and The Blondes will be there. I'm looking forward to it.
Just like last week, this week blows. There are about 5 serious deadlines all culminating this week and they all depend on other people beyond my controlling grasp to get completed, but I'm the project manager and responsible for making sure we reach deadline. That is more commonly known as Cat Herder. Yea. Fun.
Anyway. While I have made time for blog reading when I could, and forced a couple of posts, it's been an effort. I don't like it when something I enjoy becomes an effort. The Craft suffers when that happens. Kinda like Sex. So, I think I'll be silent on the blogfront through the holiday.
I'll miss you all!
Really.
I will.
-jafg
277.0 lbs
Take that, 278.0 lbs!
So I'm heading to Lakehouse this weekend. I'll be there Saturday and Sunday.BB and Her Beau, SAG and The Blondes will be there. I'm looking forward to it.
Just like last week, this week blows. There are about 5 serious deadlines all culminating this week and they all depend on other people beyond my controlling grasp to get completed, but I'm the project manager and responsible for making sure we reach deadline. That is more commonly known as Cat Herder. Yea. Fun.
Anyway. While I have made time for blog reading when I could, and forced a couple of posts, it's been an effort. I don't like it when something I enjoy becomes an effort. The Craft suffers when that happens. Kinda like Sex. So, I think I'll be silent on the blogfront through the holiday.
Please have a happy and safe Independence Day holiday! Watch National Treasure and appreciate some American history!
I'll miss you all!
Really.
I will.
-jafg
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Hate Side of My Love/Hate Relationship With The World Of Weight
05/21/10
278.2 lbs
*Warning: Cranky JAFG Ahead*
I'm really not sure what to think. Since this little bloggin space's inception, I've not been this low on the scale.
I'm freakin happy! BUT...I have this overwhelming need to walk around and whisper I've lost 18 lbs because if I say it too loud, it might jinx it or something. Like when people whisper *cancer* or *prison*.
So yeah, I've lost 18 lbs. It's not a fluke like a 3 lbs fluctuation could be. It's 18 solid lbs. If someone asks me how I'm doing it I get to tell them "I'm doing it the old fashioned way: Healthy Eating and Exercise". No one wants to hear that, but it's the truth. Now, IF there were some magic way to do this while being able to eat whatever whenever I wanted, and I didn't have to exercise, then, well, I bet I'd be doing that instead.
My life's been very boring as of late. I have no funny stories to share or even any to pull from in the right recent past. I'm watching what I do for food religiously and tracking it all on myfitnesspal. I'm weighing myself every morning and, this week, have just been sitting on my couch watching tv or checking FB at night.
I love routine and I hate it too! Right now, I'm totally in an I-hate-it phase. I'm in a rut/funk/ditch/somethin and I need a change. I've really had to be a grown-up at work which, translated, means I'm not doing anything fun. I need to blow off some steam. I had plans to visit BFF and Her Hubbie this weekend, but had to cancel that. Grr. I've been disconnected from SAG and BB because everyone is just busy with l-i-f-e right now.
On a good note, I am going to Beach Town the first week of June. I'll be there for work, but I'm bringing BFF (it'll just be her and me) and we're staying in a fantab hotel ON the beach. Even when I lived there, I never stayed ON the beach. Well, there was that one Halloween weekend and then that random night one summer, but you know what I mean. I'm really looking forward to that!
I've strained my knee from pushing too hard through HHH class and bouncing around and all that. You know how walking down the stairs is usually the easiest thing in the world? Yeah. Not for me. Not right now. I hate this.
Turns out all those crunching sounds that I've heard in my knee for years has been what they call runner's knee. Commonplace among runners and overweight people. Well, I'm not in the runner category in case you didn't know. Actually, while I've had this mild, unchecked version of this pain in my knee for at least two years back that I can remember, since I started exercising in like 0-to-60 mode I've had a serious flare-up.
It's treatable with stretches and "quad stengthening" and a brace and ice and Motrin which is fantastic (seriously-it's a mostly free treatment plan). I also will actually have to bounce LESS in HHH class and focus on not too much resistnence on my favorite elliptical. I can't avoid The Stairs at least twice a day; however, I've been using the railing to ease things up a bit. While I've really noticed that my knee pain has eased up as the week of inactivity I feel like the rest of me is rusting inside. I also miss the extra calories that exersice affords me. Trying to keep my caloric intake under 1300 is a real pain in the ass.
I'm exercising tonight, damnit
-jafg
278.2 lbs
*Warning: Cranky JAFG Ahead*
I'm really not sure what to think. Since this little bloggin space's inception, I've not been this low on the scale.
I'm freakin happy! BUT...I have this overwhelming need to walk around and whisper I've lost 18 lbs because if I say it too loud, it might jinx it or something. Like when people whisper *cancer* or *prison*.
So yeah, I've lost 18 lbs. It's not a fluke like a 3 lbs fluctuation could be. It's 18 solid lbs. If someone asks me how I'm doing it I get to tell them "I'm doing it the old fashioned way: Healthy Eating and Exercise". No one wants to hear that, but it's the truth. Now, IF there were some magic way to do this while being able to eat whatever whenever I wanted, and I didn't have to exercise, then, well, I bet I'd be doing that instead.
My life's been very boring as of late. I have no funny stories to share or even any to pull from in the right recent past. I'm watching what I do for food religiously and tracking it all on myfitnesspal. I'm weighing myself every morning and, this week, have just been sitting on my couch watching tv or checking FB at night.
I love routine and I hate it too! Right now, I'm totally in an I-hate-it phase. I'm in a rut/funk/ditch/somethin and I need a change. I've really had to be a grown-up at work which, translated, means I'm not doing anything fun. I need to blow off some steam. I had plans to visit BFF and Her Hubbie this weekend, but had to cancel that. Grr. I've been disconnected from SAG and BB because everyone is just busy with l-i-f-e right now.
On a good note, I am going to Beach Town the first week of June. I'll be there for work, but I'm bringing BFF (it'll just be her and me) and we're staying in a fantab hotel ON the beach. Even when I lived there, I never stayed ON the beach. Well, there was that one Halloween weekend and then that random night one summer, but you know what I mean. I'm really looking forward to that!
I've strained my knee from pushing too hard through HHH class and bouncing around and all that. You know how walking down the stairs is usually the easiest thing in the world? Yeah. Not for me. Not right now. I hate this.
Turns out all those crunching sounds that I've heard in my knee for years has been what they call runner's knee. Commonplace among runners and overweight people. Well, I'm not in the runner category in case you didn't know. Actually, while I've had this mild, unchecked version of this pain in my knee for at least two years back that I can remember, since I started exercising in like 0-to-60 mode I've had a serious flare-up.
It's treatable with stretches and "quad stengthening" and a brace and ice and Motrin which is fantastic (seriously-it's a mostly free treatment plan). I also will actually have to bounce LESS in HHH class and focus on not too much resistnence on my favorite elliptical. I can't avoid The Stairs at least twice a day; however, I've been using the railing to ease things up a bit. While I've really noticed that my knee pain has eased up as the week of inactivity I feel like the rest of me is rusting inside. I also miss the extra calories that exersice affords me. Trying to keep my caloric intake under 1300 is a real pain in the ass.
I'm exercising tonight, damnit
-jafg
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
It Is What It Is
05/11/10
283.2 lbs
I've known this week was coming all year. I fly tomorrow. I hate flying. Not the flying so much, but the squishing into airplane seats. Fortunately, I'll be on a plane for 50 minutes and then on a plane for 2.5 hours. There's a bit of a break in between. Not much of one, but still.
I really wanted to be under 280 lbs for this trip and thought that since I'd been working out for over a month it was a possibility that it may happen. I've secretly felt like a failure every time I've stepped on the scale this past week because it didn't seem like it was going to happen. At least after Friday, the trip'll be behind me and all I have to focus on is a healthy diet and exercise.
So, this weekend I decided I wanted BBQ. Badly. So I pile Moms in the car and we head out for this BBQ place. That's when the crazy insanity ensued.
When I dine out, I always request a table. I've been in the habit of asking for a table for quite some time now. It's kinda weird, I used to always ask for a booth. The idea of sitting at a table in the center of the aisle always bugged me. Made me feel like a spotlight was on me and my food. Then I hit adulthood and could sit in the bars. Well sometime after that I realized that booths were no longer really comfortable. This, in case you haven't guessed, is because my girth had grown. That's right, there wasn't enough space between me and the table.
At first this was a slow realization. I'd be sitting with friends and think that the table was farther away from one side than the other and somehow I'd always sat on the small side. I'm a lefty which predetermines where I sit (most of the time). I thought perhaps restaurants thought leftys were skinnier and needed less space.
Then, I tried the seat swap. You'll never guess what happened. I was WRONG. One side of the booth was not smaller than the other! Well, once that happened, I then was forced with the realization that it was me that was bigger than the seat space. Great.
Of course, this picture is talking about the grown-up who goes back to elementary school, but you get the idea.
Since then, I've overcome my spotlight feeling (and learned to love it really) at a table and always know to specify prior to seating. Of course, ocassionally, I get ribbed by my friends..."what's up high maintenance?"...to which I give a hearty gafaw and move on with my life because, hey, it's really kinda true anyway.
In the not so distant past, on a night out with BB and SAG, I even tried to sit in a booth. I actually had to ask the girls to move to a nearby table because it just didn't work for me. I worked hard to not be embarrased. I could escape it because these are my workout buddies so they know I'm trying. It was still a little mortifying but the girls handled it like champs not giving one peep of snarkiness.
Well, this brings us back to Saturday. Moms and I get to the BBQ place and we can either instantly be sat at a booth or wait 20 minutes for a table. I spy one outside, a table that is, and decide to sit out there. The day is nice enough and the sun isn't going to be in our eyes. Well, I get out there and realize that the table is cemented to the wall. And to add to that, this is an end table so there's no possibility of moving the chairs to adjust the space. Moms sits down. It's kinda tight because the very skinny people at the table next to us are pushed back and talking. Well, that's taken care of with a simple "excuse me" and we're back to me. I'm staring at this seat. This very small crevice of a space they're calling a seat.
I squeeze myself into the space and I've got like a roll and a half poking over the table. I feel humiliated. It's almost to the point that I begin to feel punished. I know no one is looking at me but I felt like they were. All stress-inducing feelings are bubbling up so fast I know my face is turning red. Or maybe it was the fact that my circulation was being cut off at the waist. Either way, it's evident on my face that I'm an unhappy girl.
Moms quietly asks, "do you want to leave?" to which I can't reply "Yes" fast enough. There'd be no way I could eat anything served to me at this place.
Poor Moms. It's like when she tried to teach me how to drive a Standard. There was never so much cursing and swearing and yelling and spitting-ok, maybe there wasn't any spitting-in a car since that fateful Sunday afternoon oh so many years ago. She took it like a champ. It wasn't directed at her, it was just all those irrational feelings gushing out like some nasty infection.
Well, after driving her around half of Smaller Southern City, we wind up at another restaurant with excellent chicken and ribs. We valet the car (I wasn't kidding on the high maintenance part) and as soon as we're greeted I lay down the table law. With a smile on my face of course.
Moms and I sit down, I order a martini and she orders her glass of wine. The world is right again.
And then there's tomorrow on a plane.
Is 6:30am too early to drink?
-jafg
283.2 lbs
I've known this week was coming all year. I fly tomorrow. I hate flying. Not the flying so much, but the squishing into airplane seats. Fortunately, I'll be on a plane for 50 minutes and then on a plane for 2.5 hours. There's a bit of a break in between. Not much of one, but still.
I really wanted to be under 280 lbs for this trip and thought that since I'd been working out for over a month it was a possibility that it may happen. I've secretly felt like a failure every time I've stepped on the scale this past week because it didn't seem like it was going to happen. At least after Friday, the trip'll be behind me and all I have to focus on is a healthy diet and exercise.
So, this weekend I decided I wanted BBQ. Badly. So I pile Moms in the car and we head out for this BBQ place. That's when the crazy insanity ensued.
When I dine out, I always request a table. I've been in the habit of asking for a table for quite some time now. It's kinda weird, I used to always ask for a booth. The idea of sitting at a table in the center of the aisle always bugged me. Made me feel like a spotlight was on me and my food. Then I hit adulthood and could sit in the bars. Well sometime after that I realized that booths were no longer really comfortable. This, in case you haven't guessed, is because my girth had grown. That's right, there wasn't enough space between me and the table.
At first this was a slow realization. I'd be sitting with friends and think that the table was farther away from one side than the other and somehow I'd always sat on the small side. I'm a lefty which predetermines where I sit (most of the time). I thought perhaps restaurants thought leftys were skinnier and needed less space.
Then, I tried the seat swap. You'll never guess what happened. I was WRONG. One side of the booth was not smaller than the other! Well, once that happened, I then was forced with the realization that it was me that was bigger than the seat space. Great.
image totally pirated from imdb.com (<==love that site)
Of course, this picture is talking about the grown-up who goes back to elementary school, but you get the idea.
Since then, I've overcome my spotlight feeling (and learned to love it really) at a table and always know to specify prior to seating. Of course, ocassionally, I get ribbed by my friends..."what's up high maintenance?"...to which I give a hearty gafaw and move on with my life because, hey, it's really kinda true anyway.
In the not so distant past, on a night out with BB and SAG, I even tried to sit in a booth. I actually had to ask the girls to move to a nearby table because it just didn't work for me. I worked hard to not be embarrased. I could escape it because these are my workout buddies so they know I'm trying. It was still a little mortifying but the girls handled it like champs not giving one peep of snarkiness.
Well, this brings us back to Saturday. Moms and I get to the BBQ place and we can either instantly be sat at a booth or wait 20 minutes for a table. I spy one outside, a table that is, and decide to sit out there. The day is nice enough and the sun isn't going to be in our eyes. Well, I get out there and realize that the table is cemented to the wall. And to add to that, this is an end table so there's no possibility of moving the chairs to adjust the space. Moms sits down. It's kinda tight because the very skinny people at the table next to us are pushed back and talking. Well, that's taken care of with a simple "excuse me" and we're back to me. I'm staring at this seat. This very small crevice of a space they're calling a seat.
I squeeze myself into the space and I've got like a roll and a half poking over the table. I feel humiliated. It's almost to the point that I begin to feel punished. I know no one is looking at me but I felt like they were. All stress-inducing feelings are bubbling up so fast I know my face is turning red. Or maybe it was the fact that my circulation was being cut off at the waist. Either way, it's evident on my face that I'm an unhappy girl.
Moms quietly asks, "do you want to leave?" to which I can't reply "Yes" fast enough. There'd be no way I could eat anything served to me at this place.
Poor Moms. It's like when she tried to teach me how to drive a Standard. There was never so much cursing and swearing and yelling and spitting-ok, maybe there wasn't any spitting-in a car since that fateful Sunday afternoon oh so many years ago. She took it like a champ. It wasn't directed at her, it was just all those irrational feelings gushing out like some nasty infection.
Well, after driving her around half of Smaller Southern City, we wind up at another restaurant with excellent chicken and ribs. We valet the car (I wasn't kidding on the high maintenance part) and as soon as we're greeted I lay down the table law. With a smile on my face of course.
Moms and I sit down, I order a martini and she orders her glass of wine. The world is right again.
And then there's tomorrow on a plane.
Is 6:30am too early to drink?
-jafg
Monday, May 10, 2010
I Heart You, Mom!
05/10/10
283.4 lbs
Over the weekend Scale told me I was at 286.2 lbs. WHAT. THE. HELL. There's a whole mental saga that played out over the next two days but the end of the story is, I kicked my own ass, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and have changed my thinking to "every workout is last chance workout".
So, Mom's day was G-R-R-R-ATE (I'm using phonix, friends). Moms and I had sushi for dinner, botanical gardens for a day trip, an awesome brunch compliments of Chez JAFG, and I treated my mom to a morning workout. I was very excited about this last one. She's my cheerleader about losing weight and getting healthy and wants to do the same thing. It was really exciting to share this with her. Actually, I'm surprised by how happy it made me to have her participate in this part of my life.
My mom's a bigger woman like myself. We're built completely different; She's a pear, I'm an apple. I've got two inches on her 5'4" self. I'm "olive-complected", she's "fair-skinned". We have the same laugh and a lot of the same subconscious mannerisms and as soon as I realize that we're doing something alike at the same time I can't help but smile to myself. I get annoyed and amused at the same time.
Referring back to this weekend, I gained weight. Scale told me so two days in a row. I did A LOT of dining out with Moms and did no working out Friday or Saturday. As a matter of fact, I did nothing really, but sleep and eat on Saturday. More on that some other time.
Sunday morning, I wake up and decide to have coffee ready for Moms. When she woke up, I asked her to workout. She was totally down with trying the recumbent bike at Concierge Gym. So, we changed into workout gear and headed out.
She's a very young 53 years of age. She's got serious left knee problems (to the point that she takes The Stairs one step at a time), was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in 2002 and now has arthritis starting in. All of this with serious allergic asthma. So this working out thing is a big deal.
She's talked with some physical therapists who have told her to get her knee moving with NO impact (thus the recumbent bike) to get the joint lubrication forming/flowing. She's supposed to take it easy on the walking front. We got her on a bike for 15 minutes at level 1. Woohoo!
She also did some resistance work on the Circuit machines with her arms. She was sore this morning, but we got out there again. Go Moms! We've got to take it easy because of all the challenges she has health-wise. I want to make sure she's not doing something that will ultimately exacerbate anything and make the situation worse. This got me thinking.
So, I was reading my blogroll came across 282.5 which I hadn't read in quite some time (Sorry Jo, and congrats on your freakin fantabulous progress!) and found a reference to a "real age" test. This one was a free service from http://www.realage.com/. I've been wanting to take one and so I used 20 minutes of my day and answered the questions honestly. It was great being able to tell it how much I exercise on a weekly basis. And then I got my results.
Actually, I'm pretty stoked about the fact I made it in under 40. I figured it would be like my first Wii age. 75. Yeah. Nice.
What got me is that the thing told me my workouts are too intense. I couldn't believe it when I read it. According to this lengthy assessment, my joint pain I've been experiencing isn't just because I've never moved so much in my life, it's because I'm pushing myself too hard. I started to connect the proverbial dots between Moms and me and I realized that, just like I don't want her pushing herself too much, I, too, shouldn't want me to push myself too much. I'm really relieved which is also surprising. I want to keep a level of intensity that will keep the fat burning happening, but I want my knees to feel better, too.
I think I've been trying to show all the skinny kids in my classes and gym (including SAG and BB) that I can keep up with the rest of them. That just because I'm fat doesn't mean that I can't do what they can. I don't think it's been intentional, I think it's been subconsciously happening.
Like the way Moms and I both get sassy with one hand on our hips. And then quickly move our hands when we realize what we're doing. At the same time. It's annoying. And funny.
I HEART YOU, MOM!
-jafg
283.4 lbs
Over the weekend Scale told me I was at 286.2 lbs. WHAT. THE. HELL. There's a whole mental saga that played out over the next two days but the end of the story is, I kicked my own ass, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and have changed my thinking to "every workout is last chance workout".
So, Mom's day was G-R-R-R-ATE (I'm using phonix, friends). Moms and I had sushi for dinner, botanical gardens for a day trip, an awesome brunch compliments of Chez JAFG, and I treated my mom to a morning workout. I was very excited about this last one. She's my cheerleader about losing weight and getting healthy and wants to do the same thing. It was really exciting to share this with her. Actually, I'm surprised by how happy it made me to have her participate in this part of my life.
My mom's a bigger woman like myself. We're built completely different; She's a pear, I'm an apple. I've got two inches on her 5'4" self. I'm "olive-complected", she's "fair-skinned". We have the same laugh and a lot of the same subconscious mannerisms and as soon as I realize that we're doing something alike at the same time I can't help but smile to myself. I get annoyed and amused at the same time.
Referring back to this weekend, I gained weight. Scale told me so two days in a row. I did A LOT of dining out with Moms and did no working out Friday or Saturday. As a matter of fact, I did nothing really, but sleep and eat on Saturday. More on that some other time.
Sunday morning, I wake up and decide to have coffee ready for Moms. When she woke up, I asked her to workout. She was totally down with trying the recumbent bike at Concierge Gym. So, we changed into workout gear and headed out.
She's a very young 53 years of age. She's got serious left knee problems (to the point that she takes The Stairs one step at a time), was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in 2002 and now has arthritis starting in. All of this with serious allergic asthma. So this working out thing is a big deal.
She's talked with some physical therapists who have told her to get her knee moving with NO impact (thus the recumbent bike) to get the joint lubrication forming/flowing. She's supposed to take it easy on the walking front. We got her on a bike for 15 minutes at level 1. Woohoo!
She also did some resistance work on the Circuit machines with her arms. She was sore this morning, but we got out there again. Go Moms! We've got to take it easy because of all the challenges she has health-wise. I want to make sure she's not doing something that will ultimately exacerbate anything and make the situation worse. This got me thinking.
So, I was reading my blogroll came across 282.5 which I hadn't read in quite some time (Sorry Jo, and congrats on your freakin fantabulous progress!) and found a reference to a "real age" test. This one was a free service from http://www.realage.com/. I've been wanting to take one and so I used 20 minutes of my day and answered the questions honestly. It was great being able to tell it how much I exercise on a weekly basis. And then I got my results.
What got me is that the thing told me my workouts are too intense. I couldn't believe it when I read it. According to this lengthy assessment, my joint pain I've been experiencing isn't just because I've never moved so much in my life, it's because I'm pushing myself too hard. I started to connect the proverbial dots between Moms and me and I realized that, just like I don't want her pushing herself too much, I, too, shouldn't want me to push myself too much. I'm really relieved which is also surprising. I want to keep a level of intensity that will keep the fat burning happening, but I want my knees to feel better, too.
I think I've been trying to show all the skinny kids in my classes and gym (including SAG and BB) that I can keep up with the rest of them. That just because I'm fat doesn't mean that I can't do what they can. I don't think it's been intentional, I think it's been subconsciously happening.
Like the way Moms and I both get sassy with one hand on our hips. And then quickly move our hands when we realize what we're doing. At the same time. It's annoying. And funny.
I HEART YOU, MOM!
-jafg
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Giddy Up
04/28/2010
284.2 lbs
I feel a difference in my clothes. I got all excited because I found these workout shorts I bought at the end of last year to sleep in. I brought them with me to BFF's house over New Year's and totally left them in the suitcase. I used that suitcase for the SAG Birthday Bash trip and found the shorts! They totally fit differently too! They don't "hug" my jiggle in the middle if you know what I mean. I totally heart them. I wore them Monday to workout at HHH class. It was great. I'm totally morphing into one of those gym people. Isn't it great?
I got home last night and thought, "I need some sort of activity". So, I changed and immediately went to Concierge Gym. When I got there, it was inhabited by three guys and two girls. Eh. I can do this. I really prefer to be the only one there and then let people come in. I always feel like all eyes are on me when I walk into a room involving fitness. I mean, come on. You know you look at who walks through the door and you know, no matter how small or fleeting it might be, there's always a quick assessment of the person. Well, anyway. I just hate walking in to a room with workout people. So, I did it anyway.
I walk with great determination up to my fave elliptical machine and get ready/prepped to start on it. I'm plugging in my earbuds to my Droid and set the Pandora station to my fave workout one "Rage Against The Machine" You gotta get that station. All you have to do is select Rage Against the Machine. It plays some great stuff if it's what you're into...If you don't have Pandora, you should totally get it. There's have an app for that on the Droid and for the iPhone. Or iPod Touch.
Ok, I have the music playing, I am getting on the machine and setting my pace, level, stride, and other settings (I run on Manual). I usually hit about 68-73 strides per minute. Sometimes it goes faster when Nine Inch Nails plays...but there's no telling when that'll come into rotation. Now, you may not think that's very much, but for this JAFG it's a freakin sprint. I usually do this for 20 minutes. The last 2 minutes usually kill me. Or make me think it's killing me anyway. Once I'm done with that, I hit the circuit machines (or resistance or weights or whatever those toture devices are called) for 30 minutes. That's my full workout when I'm not hitting HHH class. Back to the music. I am getting on the machine and I begin to increase my strides. I am wearing my newly found shorts again (becuase I can). The more I increase speed, the more these damn shorts are riding up between my always touching thighs. I'd like to make this more glamorized, but there's nothing attractive about it.
Concierge Gym is not the biggest area and the machines sit right up against the wall. The mirrored wall. So while I'm trying to pretend that I don't have some funky new triangle cut shorts on, I can see in the mirror exactly what I look like from the front. And that's with the front of the elliptical in between me and the mirror. Horror upon horrors. Imagine what I must look like from the back!!!
So, I am casually reaching down and pulling my shorts out of the crevice of my thighs. It's not the easiest thing to do while on this machine. I am trying to adjust my stride, my speed, all sorts of things so these damn things don't ride up on me. I'm no longer being subtle now. I can't go the pace I want to go because I keep having to stop and adjust the shorts. I know I'm gonna be some water cooler joke somewhere because I almost fell one time trying to rescue them from the thighs. Finally, I got the pace down to 48-55 strides per minute and the feet positioned in the right place and was holding my head in the right position. The riding stopped. Yahoo!
So I'm a little disappointed with this slower pace. It's not what I'm used to doing. I figured that I would increase my level from the 5 I normally go to 14 which is as high as it would go. I think, in the world of ellipticals, this would be knee-breaking, but my machine is super duper easy and even the level 14 doesn't kill me like the level 3 does on some other ones. I love that machine, though. I can do a quicker pace and really feel like I'm accomplishing something since my muscles don't feel like they are going to burn through my skin like acid the instant I get started. This machine actually lets me move a little bit before that kicks in.
I decided to double my time from 20 to 40 minutes. I also decided to skip the weight machines since I was wearing the shorts.
One wardrobe malfunction was enough.
-jafg
284.2 lbs
I feel a difference in my clothes. I got all excited because I found these workout shorts I bought at the end of last year to sleep in. I brought them with me to BFF's house over New Year's and totally left them in the suitcase. I used that suitcase for the SAG Birthday Bash trip and found the shorts! They totally fit differently too! They don't "hug" my jiggle in the middle if you know what I mean. I totally heart them. I wore them Monday to workout at HHH class. It was great. I'm totally morphing into one of those gym people. Isn't it great?
I got home last night and thought, "I need some sort of activity". So, I changed and immediately went to Concierge Gym. When I got there, it was inhabited by three guys and two girls. Eh. I can do this. I really prefer to be the only one there and then let people come in. I always feel like all eyes are on me when I walk into a room involving fitness. I mean, come on. You know you look at who walks through the door and you know, no matter how small or fleeting it might be, there's always a quick assessment of the person. Well, anyway. I just hate walking in to a room with workout people. So, I did it anyway.
I walk with great determination up to my fave elliptical machine and get ready/prepped to start on it. I'm plugging in my earbuds to my Droid and set the Pandora station to my fave workout one "Rage Against The Machine" You gotta get that station. All you have to do is select Rage Against the Machine. It plays some great stuff if it's what you're into...If you don't have Pandora, you should totally get it. There's have an app for that on the Droid and for the iPhone. Or iPod Touch.
Ok, I have the music playing, I am getting on the machine and setting my pace, level, stride, and other settings (I run on Manual). I usually hit about 68-73 strides per minute. Sometimes it goes faster when Nine Inch Nails plays...but there's no telling when that'll come into rotation. Now, you may not think that's very much, but for this JAFG it's a freakin sprint. I usually do this for 20 minutes. The last 2 minutes usually kill me. Or make me think it's killing me anyway. Once I'm done with that, I hit the circuit machines (or resistance or weights or whatever those toture devices are called) for 30 minutes. That's my full workout when I'm not hitting HHH class. Back to the music. I am getting on the machine and I begin to increase my strides. I am wearing my newly found shorts again (becuase I can). The more I increase speed, the more these damn shorts are riding up between my always touching thighs. I'd like to make this more glamorized, but there's nothing attractive about it.
Concierge Gym is not the biggest area and the machines sit right up against the wall. The mirrored wall. So while I'm trying to pretend that I don't have some funky new triangle cut shorts on, I can see in the mirror exactly what I look like from the front. And that's with the front of the elliptical in between me and the mirror. Horror upon horrors. Imagine what I must look like from the back!!!
So, I am casually reaching down and pulling my shorts out of the crevice of my thighs. It's not the easiest thing to do while on this machine. I am trying to adjust my stride, my speed, all sorts of things so these damn things don't ride up on me. I'm no longer being subtle now. I can't go the pace I want to go because I keep having to stop and adjust the shorts. I know I'm gonna be some water cooler joke somewhere because I almost fell one time trying to rescue them from the thighs. Finally, I got the pace down to 48-55 strides per minute and the feet positioned in the right place and was holding my head in the right position. The riding stopped. Yahoo!
So I'm a little disappointed with this slower pace. It's not what I'm used to doing. I figured that I would increase my level from the 5 I normally go to 14 which is as high as it would go. I think, in the world of ellipticals, this would be knee-breaking, but my machine is super duper easy and even the level 14 doesn't kill me like the level 3 does on some other ones. I love that machine, though. I can do a quicker pace and really feel like I'm accomplishing something since my muscles don't feel like they are going to burn through my skin like acid the instant I get started. This machine actually lets me move a little bit before that kicks in.
I decided to double my time from 20 to 40 minutes. I also decided to skip the weight machines since I was wearing the shorts.
One wardrobe malfunction was enough.
-jafg
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tales of the Come-Back Kid. Again.
04/27/10
285.6 lbs
Overall, this is pretty good. However, when I tell you that Scale said on Saturday that I had made it to 283.8 (I checked it twice) and then yesterday said I was at 287.2 you see there's not much room for excitment or sadness. Still, I'll take this as a victory.
Look, I figured up the caloric intake of the adult beverages consumed for this birthday bash and it totals 1688 calories. I am so cursing right now. As my ramblings have indicated in my previous posts, I am not such a healthfully minded chica on the morning after a night of partaking. That leads to Bacon. And lots of other things off of the breakfast buffet at the hotel like grits, potatoes, cheese, bacon, waffle, bacon, cheese danish, bacon. And a poached egg. And french fries and a frosty (both small) from Wendy's on the way home. Nice. I did have a healthy dinner. It's my lowfat version of a tuna melt with an egg. It's actually very good and some other time, I will share it with you.
I signed up for myfitnesspal.com, which I heart a lot and would love to add you as a buddy if anyone's interested but I don't know how that works, and I am SO not registering any of my weekend debauchery.
I was smart and took yesterday off. I knew that I wouldn't be fully recovered. Getting old does this to a girl. There was a time that 3 hours sleep between "gigs" seemed totally doable. Now I need two days to recover from blow-out bashes like this. At least I know my limits. Anyway. I took yesterday off. I had some bacon left over from when BFF and Her Hubbie visited that I had shoved into the freezer. Well, I sliced some of that off, scrambled me two eggs and had a slice of kraft 2% american cheese on it. Then I had two pieces of peanut butter toast for snacks. I had my tuna melt for lunch and a porkchop and a half of sweet potato for dinner. I slept most of the day but what I did do (which I didn't want to do) was exercise.
YEA ME! I went to HHH class. Can I just say that I thought I was going to die? I know I've said that before, but, like, this time, I was really wondering what would happen if I collapsed of a heart attack in the middle of the session. That would be so embarrassing.
While I was contemplating coronary issues, I also noticed that I was bouncing a lot more than I first did. Perhaps I was so worn out because I was pushing a little harder this time. Perhaps. I don't know for sure, though. I was also thinking I really can't miss my Saturday workout. I will HAVE to make time for a workout when on trips, otherwise, it'll feel like starting over again when I get back to class. I hate feeling like I'm starting over again.
I uploaded my pics from the trip to FB (my real world FB account, not the JAFG account) and had a pleasant surprise....aside from having kept all my clothes intact over the trip, I was also looking thinner!
-jafg
285.6 lbs
Overall, this is pretty good. However, when I tell you that Scale said on Saturday that I had made it to 283.8 (I checked it twice) and then yesterday said I was at 287.2 you see there's not much room for excitment or sadness. Still, I'll take this as a victory.
Look, I figured up the caloric intake of the adult beverages consumed for this birthday bash and it totals 1688 calories. I am so cursing right now. As my ramblings have indicated in my previous posts, I am not such a healthfully minded chica on the morning after a night of partaking. That leads to Bacon. And lots of other things off of the breakfast buffet at the hotel like grits, potatoes, cheese, bacon, waffle, bacon, cheese danish, bacon. And a poached egg. And french fries and a frosty (both small) from Wendy's on the way home. Nice. I did have a healthy dinner. It's my lowfat version of a tuna melt with an egg. It's actually very good and some other time, I will share it with you.
I signed up for myfitnesspal.com, which I heart a lot and would love to add you as a buddy if anyone's interested but I don't know how that works, and I am SO not registering any of my weekend debauchery.
I was smart and took yesterday off. I knew that I wouldn't be fully recovered. Getting old does this to a girl. There was a time that 3 hours sleep between "gigs" seemed totally doable. Now I need two days to recover from blow-out bashes like this. At least I know my limits. Anyway. I took yesterday off. I had some bacon left over from when BFF and Her Hubbie visited that I had shoved into the freezer. Well, I sliced some of that off, scrambled me two eggs and had a slice of kraft 2% american cheese on it. Then I had two pieces of peanut butter toast for snacks. I had my tuna melt for lunch and a porkchop and a half of sweet potato for dinner. I slept most of the day but what I did do (which I didn't want to do) was exercise.
YEA ME! I went to HHH class. Can I just say that I thought I was going to die? I know I've said that before, but, like, this time, I was really wondering what would happen if I collapsed of a heart attack in the middle of the session. That would be so embarrassing.
While I was contemplating coronary issues, I also noticed that I was bouncing a lot more than I first did. Perhaps I was so worn out because I was pushing a little harder this time. Perhaps. I don't know for sure, though. I was also thinking I really can't miss my Saturday workout. I will HAVE to make time for a workout when on trips, otherwise, it'll feel like starting over again when I get back to class. I hate feeling like I'm starting over again.
I uploaded my pics from the trip to FB (my real world FB account, not the JAFG account) and had a pleasant surprise....aside from having kept all my clothes intact over the trip, I was also looking thinner!
-jafg
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Day Trippin'
04/22/10
285.0 lbs
One more down...
I don't know where you are, but it's a B-E-A-utiful day here in Smaller Southern City. Happy Earth Day! Go recycle something like the carbs you ate at lunch.....use them as fuel for a walk outside or something.
I'm heading on a big 3-0 birthday bash trip this weekend. Not mine...I'm older than that. SAG is turning 30. Awesome! It should be fun. There's like 10 of us piling into three rooms. How very spring break of us, right?
However, what I don't want happening is a reversal on the scale front. I'm gonna have to figure out how to keep being healthy while we're partaking of an adult beverage or two. And noshing on food. Wish me lucks!
There's been a threat of a hot tub night. Good Lawd. How am I gonna get out of that one?
-jafg
285.0 lbs
One more down...
I don't know where you are, but it's a B-E-A-utiful day here in Smaller Southern City. Happy Earth Day! Go recycle something like the carbs you ate at lunch.....use them as fuel for a walk outside or something.
I'm heading on a big 3-0 birthday bash trip this weekend. Not mine...I'm older than that. SAG is turning 30. Awesome! It should be fun. There's like 10 of us piling into three rooms. How very spring break of us, right?
However, what I don't want happening is a reversal on the scale front. I'm gonna have to figure out how to keep being healthy while we're partaking of an adult beverage or two. And noshing on food. Wish me lucks!
There's been a threat of a hot tub night. Good Lawd. How am I gonna get out of that one?
-jafg
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Preparing for BATTLE
04/20/10
288.2 lbs
Yesterday it said 287. That'll teach me not to blog when I lose poundage.
So I've been working out with SAG and BB for a few weeks now. It's pretty cool. I actually joined the Gym on Friday and worked out as a new member. With SAG. And I think she's kinda impressed that I can mostly push through the panting and the puffing when trying to keep up with her. She will run you ragg-ed. And she likes it. Like that Jillian chick from Biggest Loser. I am very un-fond of them both.
Workout clothes are not something that's been part of my wardrobe. Ever. I have been wearing either pajamas (pj pants with a big shirt) or a pair of khaki shorts that come down to my knees and polo shirts for workout sessions with the girls and the hip-hop hell class. Which, btw, I went to last night. I was literally stiff as a board when I got home. And that is after draining all the hot water in the abode on my aching back. Bless my heart.
Anyway. After about two weeks of the boobs bouncing in ways that no boobs should ever bounce, I went on a hunt for a sports bra. Actually, let's step this back one minute. The first thing I noticed after realizing that all the ladies and the few guys that are in HHH class are already damn fit was the fact that everyone wears the little anklet socks. I, on the other hand, have the cute little socks that come up over my ankles and almost up my calf. Now, before you get some nerd-like image of me in my knee length shorts and knee high socks, these are just the type that I would "slouch" a bit. I'm not trying to win fit fashion awards, but I don't want to look like an out-of-date idoit either. After all, I am a very fashionable girl otherwise. Over the weekend I bought some just-below-the-ankle socks. I felt very happy about it. Fashionable even. One less thing that separates me from the other fit fashionistas in my HHH class.
Ok. Back to the boobs. I've been eyeing this bathing suit with underwire on Just My Size and decided to search for sports bras and other work out gears. I found some great bras on this site (even thogh the regular everyday bras don't do much for me) and they were running a buy two get one free deal. The bathing suit was on sale too. Being the frugal shopper that I am, I went ahead and made the buy. I got them in the mail yesterday (delivered to work) and immediately went to the bathroom to try them on. I hate, hate, hate the bathing suit. I heart, heart, heart my sports bras. I got two Champion bras (same model different colors...I'm original like that) and one Glamorize bra with a faux-chami built in.
These are not attractive items of clothing. These are not figure-flattering-curve-accentuating things. These are pieces of armour one puts on when preparing to do battle with HHH class. I had a whole new level confidence walking into class last night. My Bras and Socks were giving me super powers and a sense of invinsability. That coupled with the fact that I found a spot where there is no mirror on the wall made me feel AWESOME. All I could think about was jumping up and down and moving side to side while trying to shake my ass the way the instructor does. I was looking forward to it. While my boobs didn't budge, other parts of me sure did. Good Lord. Do they make a sports bra for a stomach??
Oh. And I got a damn blister on my ankle.
-jafg
288.2 lbs
Yesterday it said 287. That'll teach me not to blog when I lose poundage.
So I've been working out with SAG and BB for a few weeks now. It's pretty cool. I actually joined the Gym on Friday and worked out as a new member. With SAG. And I think she's kinda impressed that I can mostly push through the panting and the puffing when trying to keep up with her. She will run you ragg-ed. And she likes it. Like that Jillian chick from Biggest Loser. I am very un-fond of them both.
Workout clothes are not something that's been part of my wardrobe. Ever. I have been wearing either pajamas (pj pants with a big shirt) or a pair of khaki shorts that come down to my knees and polo shirts for workout sessions with the girls and the hip-hop hell class. Which, btw, I went to last night. I was literally stiff as a board when I got home. And that is after draining all the hot water in the abode on my aching back. Bless my heart.
Anyway. After about two weeks of the boobs bouncing in ways that no boobs should ever bounce, I went on a hunt for a sports bra. Actually, let's step this back one minute. The first thing I noticed after realizing that all the ladies and the few guys that are in HHH class are already damn fit was the fact that everyone wears the little anklet socks. I, on the other hand, have the cute little socks that come up over my ankles and almost up my calf. Now, before you get some nerd-like image of me in my knee length shorts and knee high socks, these are just the type that I would "slouch" a bit. I'm not trying to win fit fashion awards, but I don't want to look like an out-of-date idoit either. After all, I am a very fashionable girl otherwise. Over the weekend I bought some just-below-the-ankle socks. I felt very happy about it. Fashionable even. One less thing that separates me from the other fit fashionistas in my HHH class.
Ok. Back to the boobs. I've been eyeing this bathing suit with underwire on Just My Size and decided to search for sports bras and other work out gears. I found some great bras on this site (even thogh the regular everyday bras don't do much for me) and they were running a buy two get one free deal. The bathing suit was on sale too. Being the frugal shopper that I am, I went ahead and made the buy. I got them in the mail yesterday (delivered to work) and immediately went to the bathroom to try them on. I hate, hate, hate the bathing suit. I heart, heart, heart my sports bras. I got two Champion bras (same model different colors...I'm original like that) and one Glamorize bra with a faux-chami built in.
These are not attractive items of clothing. These are not figure-flattering-curve-accentuating things. These are pieces of armour one puts on when preparing to do battle with HHH class. I had a whole new level confidence walking into class last night. My Bras and Socks were giving me super powers and a sense of invinsability. That coupled with the fact that I found a spot where there is no mirror on the wall made me feel AWESOME. All I could think about was jumping up and down and moving side to side while trying to shake my ass the way the instructor does. I was looking forward to it. While my boobs didn't budge, other parts of me sure did. Good Lord. Do they make a sports bra for a stomach??
Oh. And I got a damn blister on my ankle.
-jafg
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
One Pound
04/06/10
290.2 lbs
Attention Amanda! I lost myself a pound! WOOHOO! I am so freakin happy right now.
I really have been pissed about the whole not losing pounds thing. I've been discouraged. I've been downtrodden even. I've been whiney and wimpy. Well, maybe not wimpy. I haven't stopped excersicing. I haven't binged. Well, I did go see a movie with my mom over Easter weekend. I wanted to order two small popcorns and two waters. We ended up with one large popcorn and two medium cokes. It was cheaper that way. I don't have much more to say about that.
My point is I haven't given up. I have carried on like a little trooper. With a big tummy. A very big tummy. And I'm so not carrying babies in there. I have subjected myself to public display of working-out-ness among people like SG Duo and lots of other skinny chicks and muscley men. I have pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone that the only thing left to conquer is walking naked in a crowded shopping mall or, worse yet, be in a bathingsuit at the lake.
Let me tell you about last night. I totally went to that hiphop workout class. It's an hour long. O.M.G. Firstly, most of the people in there are thin. The teacher is a brick house dancing machine. People who are not in shape are still ten times fitter than I am. At least. So we start out by a little bit of marching and boucning to the music. My first session with She-Devil (see yesterday's post) has taught me to be wary of the whole marching thing. Actually, I think I'm developing a phobia. Marching is an omen of bad things to come.
Anyway, SAG, BB and I are all standing there nervously giggling, not because anything is funny, but because we're all nervous. I've never been to a workout class. E-V-E-R ever. I have no idea what this is about. I've watched workout videos before but these are things I recognize as like exercise or something. This is loud pop music remix to which we learn steps. And then we put the steps together. I have a new respect for Dancing with the Stars.
This stuff was crazy. Firstly, I have established many times over I'm particularly thick in the middle. I've got big legs and big ass, but it's a flat ass and my legs are pretty damn solid. What I have a whole lot of is that Jiggle in the Middle. Hip Hop requires a lot of shaking hips and wiggling ass and jumping and kicking and overall stuff that jiggling just isn't down with. In case you didn't know. OH Yeah, the room is like one big mirror. E-GAD. Add that to the mix of motion and you can imagine the horror movie I was about to watch. With me as the star. This was gonna be bad.
I have to admit, I almost walked out. I almost got to the point of giving up but all I could think of was the one pound that I wanted to lose. I pushed myself to give this a one whole class effort. I got a little frustrated, but only because I couldn't learn the steps fast enough. For the first 20 minutes I thought that it really wasn't that bad. Except for looking like a complete fool and not being able to move in a coordinated fashion, the workout itself was not that taxing. Then we move into phase 2.
Alright, things are moving faster, I somewhat have down everything from phase 1 and am really picking up the steps of this section. I'm also sweating a bit. Awesome! Ok, the end of this 15 minute section I'm really huffing and puffing. My shirt keeps pulling up in front and now I know why gym people like their clothes so fitted. With all the moving around, I'm constantly having to pull things down, adjust the shorts, fix the bra, all sorts of things. I go for water. The Girls are dying too. Sweat and Missteps. I feel a little better about it.
So we're called back from our water break and start building on what we've learned on phase 1-2. This one involves jumping and gyrating. Shit. NO ONE wants to see a fat person jump and gyrate. Especially the fat person. It's just not a pretty picture. I caught a few glimpses, and I can't get the images out of my mind.
I work it out with my own version of a jump and gyrate. I have never been more caucasian in my life. EVER. Another 10 minutes pass and we get another water break. My body is beginning to die on me. I'm starting to feel the shaking again. My body gets to a certain point in exercise and it begins to shake; like on the ellypticals and I feel like I could vibrate my way around the gym. I've been told it's because I'm pushing my muscles to the point of exhaustion which is good. I don't get it.
Well, we've got 15 minutes left and I really don't know how I'm gonna make it. We've got a 10 minute final session and then we move to our 5 minute cool down. I really don't remember the final 10 minutes. I know I didn't pass out. I know that I didn't fall down or break anything. The only thing I can figure is that I blocked it out due to the emotional scarring all that jiggle and gyrating had on my poor psychie. I seriously doubt that anything I did in that final 10 minutes looked like dance moves, but at least I kept moving and didn't just fall out right there on the floor. I wanted to. But I didn't. I wanted to wretch at the end of the night. I may have to equate marching with feelings of near wretching. They seem to go hand-in-hand.
That's not even talking about how I felt when I got home. I hate that class.
I'm going again tomorrow night.
-jafg
290.2 lbs
Attention Amanda! I lost myself a pound! WOOHOO! I am so freakin happy right now.
I really have been pissed about the whole not losing pounds thing. I've been discouraged. I've been downtrodden even. I've been whiney and wimpy. Well, maybe not wimpy. I haven't stopped excersicing. I haven't binged. Well, I did go see a movie with my mom over Easter weekend. I wanted to order two small popcorns and two waters. We ended up with one large popcorn and two medium cokes. It was cheaper that way. I don't have much more to say about that.
My point is I haven't given up. I have carried on like a little trooper. With a big tummy. A very big tummy. And I'm so not carrying babies in there. I have subjected myself to public display of working-out-ness among people like SG Duo and lots of other skinny chicks and muscley men. I have pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone that the only thing left to conquer is walking naked in a crowded shopping mall or, worse yet, be in a bathingsuit at the lake.
Let me tell you about last night. I totally went to that hiphop workout class. It's an hour long. O.M.G. Firstly, most of the people in there are thin. The teacher is a brick house dancing machine. People who are not in shape are still ten times fitter than I am. At least. So we start out by a little bit of marching and boucning to the music. My first session with She-Devil (see yesterday's post) has taught me to be wary of the whole marching thing. Actually, I think I'm developing a phobia. Marching is an omen of bad things to come.
Anyway, SAG, BB and I are all standing there nervously giggling, not because anything is funny, but because we're all nervous. I've never been to a workout class. E-V-E-R ever. I have no idea what this is about. I've watched workout videos before but these are things I recognize as like exercise or something. This is loud pop music remix to which we learn steps. And then we put the steps together. I have a new respect for Dancing with the Stars.
This stuff was crazy. Firstly, I have established many times over I'm particularly thick in the middle. I've got big legs and big ass, but it's a flat ass and my legs are pretty damn solid. What I have a whole lot of is that Jiggle in the Middle. Hip Hop requires a lot of shaking hips and wiggling ass and jumping and kicking and overall stuff that jiggling just isn't down with. In case you didn't know. OH Yeah, the room is like one big mirror. E-GAD. Add that to the mix of motion and you can imagine the horror movie I was about to watch. With me as the star. This was gonna be bad.
I have to admit, I almost walked out. I almost got to the point of giving up but all I could think of was the one pound that I wanted to lose. I pushed myself to give this a one whole class effort. I got a little frustrated, but only because I couldn't learn the steps fast enough. For the first 20 minutes I thought that it really wasn't that bad. Except for looking like a complete fool and not being able to move in a coordinated fashion, the workout itself was not that taxing. Then we move into phase 2.
Alright, things are moving faster, I somewhat have down everything from phase 1 and am really picking up the steps of this section. I'm also sweating a bit. Awesome! Ok, the end of this 15 minute section I'm really huffing and puffing. My shirt keeps pulling up in front and now I know why gym people like their clothes so fitted. With all the moving around, I'm constantly having to pull things down, adjust the shorts, fix the bra, all sorts of things. I go for water. The Girls are dying too. Sweat and Missteps. I feel a little better about it.
So we're called back from our water break and start building on what we've learned on phase 1-2. This one involves jumping and gyrating. Shit. NO ONE wants to see a fat person jump and gyrate. Especially the fat person. It's just not a pretty picture. I caught a few glimpses, and I can't get the images out of my mind.
I work it out with my own version of a jump and gyrate. I have never been more caucasian in my life. EVER. Another 10 minutes pass and we get another water break. My body is beginning to die on me. I'm starting to feel the shaking again. My body gets to a certain point in exercise and it begins to shake; like on the ellypticals and I feel like I could vibrate my way around the gym. I've been told it's because I'm pushing my muscles to the point of exhaustion which is good. I don't get it.
Well, we've got 15 minutes left and I really don't know how I'm gonna make it. We've got a 10 minute final session and then we move to our 5 minute cool down. I really don't remember the final 10 minutes. I know I didn't pass out. I know that I didn't fall down or break anything. The only thing I can figure is that I blocked it out due to the emotional scarring all that jiggle and gyrating had on my poor psychie. I seriously doubt that anything I did in that final 10 minutes looked like dance moves, but at least I kept moving and didn't just fall out right there on the floor. I wanted to. But I didn't. I wanted to wretch at the end of the night. I may have to equate marching with feelings of near wretching. They seem to go hand-in-hand.
That's not even talking about how I felt when I got home. I hate that class.
I'm going again tomorrow night.
-jafg
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Kicker.
04/05/10
291.2 lbs
We'll talk about weight in a minute.
Hello My Lovelies! I've missed the hell out of you. I've been tweeting my little heart out since last we met because it's so much easier to type 144 characters than to sit down and commit 30 to 45 minutes to blog writing. Or even an hour. First, let me start with the good news.
That quarter of a mile measurement was a total crock of bull-arkie. I drove our walking track and discovered that it's actually just at one mile! I so deleted that tracking app.
Second Good News. I've been a workout mama! I was off on Friday and even worked out! AT MY OWN GYM! That's right. I walked into my own Concierge Gym and me and My Fat got on an ellyptical and rocked it for 20 minutes! WOO-FREAKIN-HOO! Oh and get this, BB and I also worked out on weight machines for another 15 minutes! That's right, I did it, I did it, I did it! I also went last Wednesday and worked out at the YMCA with SAG and BB. We were going to do this hip-hop class, but chickened out at the last minute and worked on the ellyptical for 30 minutes. After that we played basket ball. Or something resembling basket ball. Mostly SAG ran circles around BB and me. I mean that literally.
Thursday BB came to the abode and we did my Wii Jenny McCarthy Your Shape workout. I hadn't used it yet and thought the change might be kinda fun.
Holy. Crap.
This little Jenny avatar pops on the screen all cute and blonde and full of perk. Alright...It's in a gaming system after all. She starts out with a warm up which consists of marching in place. I was thinking "What a freakin waste of money and time". WAS.
Then the Jenny Avatar starts with all sorts of things like Plies (that is PLEE-YAY...I'm not quite sure how to spell it) and arm lifts and some wicked up-down-forward-back-leg-arm-thing that I still don't get. Evil She-Devil! Then she makes you get on your back. You do this thing called riding a bike. Uh huh. I thought I was going to die. It's not a quick motion thing, it's a move your leg and hold it in that position until you die thing. And then you move your other leg and start over. Oh wait. It gets worse.
You've gotta roll over and get on your stomach. Stretch your arms out in front of you and your legs out behind you. Then, act as if you're being drawn and quartered. For those of you who don't know what that is, imagine a rope being tied to each limb and being pulled in opposite directions (arms away from legs/legs away from arms). That is "swimming" as She-Devil calls it. Great. Not only am I going to die, but I am now going to vomit beforehand. This stretches muscles I didn't know existed. Like, people say that, but I mean it. I had no idea there was a muscle in this weird place on my side. I do now. I didn't know that it was possible to hate a cartoon character that much. BB feels the same way. We're keeping She-Devil to a Thursday night work-out. I don't think I could handle more than that.
All this pain and sweating is a good thing. I've been getting great side-effects too. My kitchen is clean and so is my room. I've got all this energy and I just want to be moving. I haven't felt like this in a long time. I'm actually going to that hip-hop workout class tonight. I even got up this morning at 5:30am (I said A. M. People!) to get to MY gym at 6:00am to workout with BB and Her Beau.
I know. "Who are you and what have you done with our belov-ed JAFG?!" I'm pretty shocked about the whole thing too.
Now The Kicker...I've been eating very healthy for going on three weeks now (since I started communicating with you all again). I've been consciously active for going on two weeks straight. I feel better about myself, I don't feel deprived, and I'm even looking forward to the workouts-somewhat. How much weight have I lost? NOT ONE FREAKING POUND. Damnit.
-jafg
291.2 lbs
We'll talk about weight in a minute.
Hello My Lovelies! I've missed the hell out of you. I've been tweeting my little heart out since last we met because it's so much easier to type 144 characters than to sit down and commit 30 to 45 minutes to blog writing. Or even an hour. First, let me start with the good news.
That quarter of a mile measurement was a total crock of bull-arkie. I drove our walking track and discovered that it's actually just at one mile! I so deleted that tracking app.
Second Good News. I've been a workout mama! I was off on Friday and even worked out! AT MY OWN GYM! That's right. I walked into my own Concierge Gym and me and My Fat got on an ellyptical and rocked it for 20 minutes! WOO-FREAKIN-HOO! Oh and get this, BB and I also worked out on weight machines for another 15 minutes! That's right, I did it, I did it, I did it!
Thursday BB came to the abode and we did my Wii Jenny McCarthy Your Shape workout. I hadn't used it yet and thought the change might be kinda fun.
Holy. Crap.
This little Jenny avatar pops on the screen all cute and blonde and full of perk. Alright...It's in a gaming system after all. She starts out with a warm up which consists of marching in place. I was thinking "What a freakin waste of money and time". WAS.
Then the Jenny Avatar starts with all sorts of things like Plies (that is PLEE-YAY...I'm not quite sure how to spell it) and arm lifts and some wicked up-down-forward-back-leg-arm-thing that I still don't get. Evil She-Devil! Then she makes you get on your back. You do this thing called riding a bike. Uh huh. I thought I was going to die. It's not a quick motion thing, it's a move your leg and hold it in that position until you die thing. And then you move your other leg and start over. Oh wait. It gets worse.
You've gotta roll over and get on your stomach. Stretch your arms out in front of you and your legs out behind you. Then, act as if you're being drawn and quartered. For those of you who don't know what that is, imagine a rope being tied to each limb and being pulled in opposite directions (arms away from legs/legs away from arms). That is "swimming" as She-Devil calls it. Great. Not only am I going to die, but I am now going to vomit beforehand. This stretches muscles I didn't know existed. Like, people say that, but I mean it. I had no idea there was a muscle in this weird place on my side. I do now. I didn't know that it was possible to hate a cartoon character that much. BB feels the same way. We're keeping She-Devil to a Thursday night work-out. I don't think I could handle more than that.
All this pain and sweating is a good thing. I've been getting great side-effects too. My kitchen is clean and so is my room. I've got all this energy and I just want to be moving. I haven't felt like this in a long time. I'm actually going to that hip-hop workout class tonight. I even got up this morning at 5:30am (I said A. M. People!) to get to MY gym at 6:00am to workout with BB and Her Beau.
I know. "Who are you and what have you done with our belov-ed JAFG?!" I'm pretty shocked about the whole thing too.
Now The Kicker...I've been eating very healthy for going on three weeks now (since I started communicating with you all again). I've been consciously active for going on two weeks straight. I feel better about myself, I don't feel deprived, and I'm even looking forward to the workouts-somewhat. How much weight have I lost? NOT ONE FREAKING POUND. Damnit.
-jafg
Monday, October 12, 2009
I Can Has Cheezburger
10/12/09
284.4 lbs
This weekend was uneventful. I did learn I'm not a dog person. Which is funny because I only got a cat to appease the need to get a dog. I didn't think apartment living would be good for a dog. Now, I can't imagine life without my cat. I heart him!
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284.4 lbs
This weekend was uneventful. I did learn I'm not a dog person. Which is funny because I only got a cat to appease the need to get a dog. I didn't think apartment living would be good for a dog. Now, I can't imagine life without my cat. I heart him!
Well, I did nothing on Friday night except watch True Blood Season Two. SAG has HBO and thus has HBO On Demand. I watched the entire season over the weekend. It was great. It's a little weird, but I didn't mind too much. I watched most of it on Friday night because I found it very difficult to sleep in a strange place. Even with a dog in the house.
Ok, I've been over to SAG's house plenty of times, even had dinner there a few. Remember the Butter with a side of Pasta dinner? Well, I couldn't pass up the chance to nose around her healthy place to see her food. That's right. I nosed. Guess what I found out. She has no less than 5 different kinds of Little Debbie snacks in her pantry! That and Chef Boy-R-Dee cans of stuff as well as a freezer full of things that make My Fat grow just reading their boxes at the grocery. There's tons of Mac-N-Cheese and other pasta products lying around too. It's pretty crazy. I see why she's so active now. She has to be. She's not nutritional in the food consumption department. She did tell me once that she works out to be able to eat the way she does, but I had no idea.
I don't know how I feel about this really. Am I jealous or disgusted? The latter would classify me in the "I'm a bit judgemental" department, but, I mean, damn. She is a working-out fool. I gotta say I really was hoping for some healthy food somewhere. Suppliments would have been good, even! But no. It's all crap. Like Totino's pizzas. I thought they were only drunk food, ya know? Food you eat when you're getting home after a night of merry-making and you forgot to stop at Waffle House. Apperantly not. Apperantly you can eat them for regular dinner, too. And Spaghetti-O's. With an Oatmeal Pie. Or a Coffee Dunkin' Stick.
I have to admit, though. I had to have an Oatmeal Pie. They're like my favorite.
-jafg
Friday, October 9, 2009
My Big Fat Wii Mii
10/09/09
43-44 BMI
That's right; BMI. Just keep reading.
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The really funny thing is that SAG was right there with me walking me through every step. Yeah. I was really laughing. I told her there was no way in hell I would disclose my weight. It asked me, but I got to hit next. Once it was done, it did a calculation based on my height (I'm 5'6" if you remember from the first post) and proudly announced my BMI. Great. Turns out I am like 43.8 or something like that. Turns out I'm supposed to be like 23.4 or something. I'm like practically double the BMI number I'm supposed to be. Nice. Oh, it also turns out that once you're all done, it takes your fat Wii Mii ass back to the main menu where you stand side-by-side next to a Skinny Athletic Wii Mii version of SAG. You'd think this would be the worst part of it. You'd think that it couldn't possibly more humiliating than this. You'd be wrong.
43-44 BMI
That's right; BMI. Just keep reading.
I'm dog-sitting this weekend. For SAG (Skinny Athletic Girl for those of you who are new to the JAFG storyline). Her dog is fantastic. Loves to play, doesn't jump on you when you walk into the room and also loves to be snuggled. AND is the softest dog you'll ever pet. Really. It's almost unnatural how soft this dog is. I don't have to spend every waking minute with her, but I am spending the night with her. Tonight and tomorrow night. That leaves a little bit of time to do nothing in an empty house. With just me and the dog. Since I'm dog-sitting, I visited last night to learn the food and outside routine of the pupster. SAG's an electronics fanatic so I also had to learn which of the 15 remotes works the TV.
SAG also has a Wii. Yea! I love Wii Bowling. It's awesome and somehow I make a strike almost every time. This is amazing since in the real world my bowling score is usually 43. She's got a few games, but what she has that I've been looking forward to most is Wii Fit. I learned how to power it up and since it was the first time I've ever used it, I had to create a Mii.
I've heard about these little bastards. They start out all cute and sweet and once you step on the balance board [insert some crescendo-ing computer sound indicating "increase" or "growth"] and then.....BAM! It turns you into a Fat Wii Mii. What the hell is that?!?! Even in a cartoon world I'm fat! I can't freakin' believe it. I didn't even have the option to lie. And I would have if I was given the chance.
The really funny thing is that SAG was right there with me walking me through every step. Yeah. I was really laughing. I told her there was no way in hell I would disclose my weight. It asked me, but I got to hit next. Once it was done, it did a calculation based on my height (I'm 5'6" if you remember from the first post) and proudly announced my BMI. Great. Turns out I am like 43.8 or something like that. Turns out I'm supposed to be like 23.4 or something. I'm like practically double the BMI number I'm supposed to be. Nice. Oh, it also turns out that once you're all done, it takes your fat Wii Mii ass back to the main menu where you stand side-by-side next to a Skinny Athletic Wii Mii version of SAG. You'd think this would be the worst part of it. You'd think that it couldn't possibly more humiliating than this. You'd be wrong. Once I have my little smiley fat and sassy Wii Mii created, we get move onto the balancing games. There's this one game where you try to hit soccer balls with your Mii head. I didn't quite grasp that concept and thought I was supposed to dodge the soccer balls. Obviously I didn't play a lot of sports as a child. Well, I finally figured out how to make my Mii move and hit balls. The damn game throws shoes and panda heads at your Mii, too. You're supposed to doge those. They're really the only thing I actually hit, or hit me, or whatever. It's a little twisted, I know. So I gave up on that after about 5 minutes and was introduced to the "Basic Stepping" program.
In this "Basic Stepping" program, there's the bunch of little mini Wii Miis on a stage and you're supposed to follow the footprints you see on the screen and step on the balance board. Apparently, it matters which foot you use. Like if they want you to use your right one, you're actually supposed to use your right one. Meh. It sounds like it'd be easy. It's not. I got all confused and only got it right when my feet weren't supposed to be on the balance board. You've gotta move side to side front to back it's damn confusing.
SAG decided to jump in and "show me how it's done". This is where it gets really bad. Remember how it knows my weight and BMI (it didn't show my weight, but I know it knows the damn thing). Well, it adapts to the levels of pressure that are supposed to be applied based on the person that standing on the thing. That means that skinny ass SAG with a BMI of like -2 had to practically jump up and down to get the board to recognize that she was on it! I've been humilitated by a video game. It'd be depressing if it weren't so damn funny.
It occurred to me as I got in my car and lit my cigarette, I just did some exercise. Hmm. Pretty cool.
-jafg
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Program...
10/07/09
287.0 lbs
Whateves. I had a birthday and did what I wanted. So, my present to myself? Weight Gain. Thanks, Me!
I've been travelling so that explains the radio silence last week. It appears, though, that I have two new fans since I've been gone. WooHoo! Welcome JAFG Newbies!
I travel for business regularly. Not like monthly or anything, but enough that I have fashionable matching luggage. I'm always travelling right around my birthday which can be fun, because it's a trip that Company pays for and it's usually in a great locale. I still pay for my own adult beverages. Most of the time, though, someone else is around to take care of that. Hey, I'm a single girl surrounded by a lot of traveling business guys. It's how it works.
I flew a different airline for the first time in a long time. I've been a Delta girl (Free Plug) for years. I traveled on Southwest (yet another Free Plug) this time which was pretty alright. They don't have real seat assignments. They assign you a letter group (a-c) and then a number (1-60) and make you board in that order. I purchased a bump in line for $10 so I was always one of the first 35 to board. This means you get a better shot at a good seat.
This also means someone gets stuck next to you, you don't get stuck next to someone. I hate walking down the aisle of a plane and seeing someone watch you and then realize you're about to squeeze your fat arse into the seat next to them. With this seating arrangement (or lack thereof), odds are someone's gonna choose the little old lady over the fat girl. I'm more likely to get an empty seat next to me. Proof positive that something good comes out of everything, even being JAFG.
Also, I get to struggle with the seatbelt all by myself. No one has to watch my face go red because it's cutting off the circulation to the upper part of my body. Deep Vein Thrombosis? Ha! I laugh at you! I have no blood running down to my lower extremities!
Then there's the arm rest. It tends to creep up as the flight progresses. Not because I'm moving it, mind you, but because my thigh fat is slowly seeping underneath it. So much so that about half way through the flight that middle person has to readjust him/herself and force it back down. That's not awkward.
I prefer traveling by myself. I would rather sit by a complete stranger that I can completely ignore (or dazzle with my bright and shiny personality if I feel like it) and not worry about ever seeing again once we all "deplane". That's the real way to go. I don't want to sit next to someone I know who has to pretend to ignore the fact that the seatbelt is one hair shy of being too small (I would never buy my jeans that tight) or the tray-table doesn't come all the way down and then face them on Monday Morning. Great. That's worse than someone walking in on you in the bathroom. Believe me, I know.
I did get hit on a few times on this trip. That's always a real ego booster. These folks are either "industry colleagues" or "industry vendors". The vendors are sales folk and Sales Folk are always up for a good time. Sales Folk are usually a good-lookin bunch and I do enjoy some good eye-candy. It's nice when we're "networking" after the conference meetings and they try to sell you stuff by buying you drinks. I'm such a conference junkie that most of them know me by now and forgo the sales and get right to the drinks. And flirting. I'm just heady enough to still think I'm the shit (No Offense, Jack). This may increase my pheromone output which says "It's ok to buy me a drink". Or maybe it's the fact that I actually say "It's ok to buy me a drink". Either, way, I'm getting a drink.
Now-a-days, I'm usually out with SAG and The Blondes and getting shoved aside by boys, so being out and about on my own turf really is good for boosting the soul. And the ego. I was actually asked to a room. That's right, boys and girls, I was really hit on. He's somebody I know and somebody I could do business with one day, so that's a big Negatory on the invite. But, it was fun and funny. He was drunk and I was sober(ish). He's good looking and I was amused. It almost made the airplane ride worth it! But not really.
Happy Birthday!
-jafg
287.0 lbs
Whateves. I had a birthday and did what I wanted. So, my present to myself? Weight Gain. Thanks, Me!
I've been travelling so that explains the radio silence last week. It appears, though, that I have two new fans since I've been gone. WooHoo! Welcome JAFG Newbies!
I travel for business regularly. Not like monthly or anything, but enough that I have fashionable matching luggage. I'm always travelling right around my birthday which can be fun, because it's a trip that Company pays for and it's usually in a great locale. I still pay for my own adult beverages. Most of the time, though, someone else is around to take care of that. Hey, I'm a single girl surrounded by a lot of traveling business guys. It's how it works.
I flew a different airline for the first time in a long time. I've been a Delta girl (Free Plug) for years. I traveled on Southwest (yet another Free Plug) this time which was pretty alright. They don't have real seat assignments. They assign you a letter group (a-c) and then a number (1-60) and make you board in that order. I purchased a bump in line for $10 so I was always one of the first 35 to board. This means you get a better shot at a good seat.
This also means someone gets stuck next to you, you don't get stuck next to someone. I hate walking down the aisle of a plane and seeing someone watch you and then realize you're about to squeeze your fat arse into the seat next to them. With this seating arrangement (or lack thereof), odds are someone's gonna choose the little old lady over the fat girl. I'm more likely to get an empty seat next to me. Proof positive that something good comes out of everything, even being JAFG.
Also, I get to struggle with the seatbelt all by myself. No one has to watch my face go red because it's cutting off the circulation to the upper part of my body. Deep Vein Thrombosis? Ha! I laugh at you! I have no blood running down to my lower extremities!
Then there's the arm rest. It tends to creep up as the flight progresses. Not because I'm moving it, mind you, but because my thigh fat is slowly seeping underneath it. So much so that about half way through the flight that middle person has to readjust him/herself and force it back down. That's not awkward.
I prefer traveling by myself. I would rather sit by a complete stranger that I can completely ignore (or dazzle with my bright and shiny personality if I feel like it) and not worry about ever seeing again once we all "deplane". That's the real way to go. I don't want to sit next to someone I know who has to pretend to ignore the fact that the seatbelt is one hair shy of being too small (I would never buy my jeans that tight) or the tray-table doesn't come all the way down and then face them on Monday Morning. Great. That's worse than someone walking in on you in the bathroom. Believe me, I know.
I did get hit on a few times on this trip. That's always a real ego booster. These folks are either "industry colleagues" or "industry vendors". The vendors are sales folk and Sales Folk are always up for a good time. Sales Folk are usually a good-lookin bunch and I do enjoy some good eye-candy. It's nice when we're "networking" after the conference meetings and they try to sell you stuff by buying you drinks. I'm such a conference junkie that most of them know me by now and forgo the sales and get right to the drinks. And flirting. I'm just heady enough to still think I'm the shit (No Offense, Jack). This may increase my pheromone output which says "It's ok to buy me a drink". Or maybe it's the fact that I actually say "It's ok to buy me a drink". Either, way, I'm getting a drink.
Now-a-days, I'm usually out with SAG and The Blondes and getting shoved aside by boys, so being out and about on my own turf really is good for boosting the soul. And the ego. I was actually asked to a room. That's right, boys and girls, I was really hit on. He's somebody I know and somebody I could do business with one day, so that's a big Negatory on the invite. But, it was fun and funny. He was drunk and I was sober(ish). He's good looking and I was amused. It almost made the airplane ride worth it! But not really.
Happy Birthday!
-jafg
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