Sanity or Patience: choose one.
Do you ever have one of those moments where you think, "HA! I am sane!" Then you step in dog poo with your bare feet and remember it was your idea to get the puppy...?
To participate in Not Me! Monday, hosted by Mckmama, click on the link because my computer won't allow me to copy the code for her button today for some weird reason. I did NOT run an entire 5k on Saturday without walking, only to be 5 minutes slower than my mom who had swine flew earlier in the week. Nope! I'm also NOT still completely happy with my time of less than 37 minutes. I did NOT actually say it was fun, and am NOT looking forward to the next one in October.
I also did NOT get rope-burn in my groin area later that day. NOT at all! It was NOT from sneaking into an elementary playground with Monsoon, where I would NEVER act like a child on the equipment, totally NOT showing off my mad clumsy
skillz on the rope climber.
I would also NEVER in a million years go to two pig roasts in one weekend and gain back every bit of the 2.5 pounds I lost earlier in the week. I am NOT into
sabotaging myself. NOT me!
I did NOT Take Monsoon to a farm festival yesterday where he did NOT shock me by running around the chicken pen picking up chickens. I was NOT worried he would get flogged. Or chicken rabies. A piglet did NOT try to eat me. Another piglet did NOT sniff Monsoon's butt and Monsoon most certainly did NOT proclaim loudly, "The
pigwet yikes my butt!!" I did NOT snort like a
pigwet myself.
"I will race in three hours"
This is week 8 of the 9-week c25k program. That's 2 months of running. Two months of feeling like I might throw up and pass out - and hoping I don't do them at the same time. BUT I'm still waiting.
Still waiting on that Running Goddess body to appear, bright and shiny like a golden statue, everything put back in it's rightful place (ie: boobs no longer hiding in my underpants), freedom from the jiggle-butt syndrome, maybe even longer hair and fewer grays.
Am I asking too much? I even gave up cookie dough and along with that part of my sanity.
Fine. At this point, I'd settle for feeling less like a massive squatting toad.
Still, the golden statue effect would be super.sidenote: My IRL friend, Miss Scares-me-a-little, has a fabulous story about a lady who's boobs did actually hide in her pants. For the record, mine do not. Yet.
Weighed in tonight at "group therapy w/ grandmas" and, after two weeks of running on schedule, adding extra heavy-duty work-outs, and cutting back on baked goods.... I've lost one of the four pounds I should have. I suppose substituting cocktails for sweets was bound to sabotage my efforts. Too bad, I was really getting used to them. The two unopened bottles of Bacardi (okay fine, one of them I opened yesterday) are calling my name after tonight's grueling sweat-fest.The one slice of chocolate cake leftover from Monsoon's birthday party is looking all too good, as well. Do you think I'll be able to carry it all the way from the counter to the garbage can without smashing it into my mouth? I mean, the lid will have to come off... I'll smell it... some of the fudgey icing might slide down my fingers anyway and what's a girl to do with that? If I'm going to lick the worst (calorie-wise) part, I might as well just eat a hunk. You're right. I'm a liar. I ate half of it while I typed. The gooey frosting-covered keyboard is possibly one of the many things wrong with my laptop. On the bright side, there's another whole week before next weigh-in. Hello, treadmill, old foe.
I've been going to boot camp style work-outs now since January. My Monday night sessions with Trainer Girl, a handful of fabulous grandmothers and most recently another young'en such as myself. The grandmas look great, especially my mom and aunt, and the girl who's my age (round-about) who's getting married soon has a visibly improved waistline. Mine, however, has not changed at all.I take that back. In six months, I lost 5 pounds and a few inches. It was good, I was feeling better and my clothes were falling off. Wii Fit even said, "that's normal." Once. Then we took a vacation and in one week I gained back the entire five pounds. Since then, I've gained another five and my once loose-fitting pants are now impossible to button out of the dryer. Boo hiss.So... there's a new challenge on the table, and I'm going to win. I need to lose 20 pounds. NEED to. Ten weeks, twenty pounds. The loser has to buy a pedi for the winner. First weigh-in was last Monday, this week we're off because Trainer Girl is on a body-breaking retreat. I haven't been totally with it this last week, but today was the day. I started a healthy diet. I'm going to look fabulous by my birthday! Okay, the two cocktails and large piece of fudge weren't the best choices, but I didn't have any ice cream or anything fried. For me, this is fantastic. Plus, I ran this morning, which is something I'm going to have to start doing nearly every day. Blugh. I can do this, though.
