John Cleese the Treadmill.

We have acquired a hand-me-down treadmill, which is both good and bad. I hate exercising. I’m not one of those people that’s all, “RUNNING FOREVER. I HEART JOGGING. I CAN THROW A FOOTBALL TO TEXAS! YESSSSSS!!!!” I work out because if I don’t, I get fat and I don’t like being fat. I also want to be hot for Blog Her ’12 which I’m bound and determined to attend. I hate exercising and I hate this fucking piece of exercise equipment. I like the way working out makes me feel but the actual act of working out, I dread. When it’s time to walk I eyeball it and think of various ways I could annihilate it. Lighting it on fire. Throwing it off a bridge. Ding-dong-ditching it on some poor unsuspecting fool’s doorstep (YOUR PROBLEM NOW ASSHOLES! AAAHH HA HA HA HAHA!)… But in the end, I don’t do any of those things because I’m afraid of fire and it’s too heavy for me to carry.

Evil, thy name is Treadmill.

We took the treadmill that Josh’s parents had in their basement. They weren’t using it anymore and it’s pretty much the temperature of Satan’s asshole outside 24/7 so we needed a way to exercise indoors. Jillian Michaels also comes from hell and I’m not paying money for her to torture and maim me (and I’m afraid to illegally download things because I’m not cut out for prison. I WATCH OZ, I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS THERE) so we got the treadmill. It’s sitting in our living room, mocking me. It’s functional, and runs, but that’s about it. I think sometimes I hear it wheezing when I’m walking on it but that could also be because I’m fat and it’s like “PLEASE NOOOO GET OFF MEEEE.”

I got on the treadmill the other night and took it slow-ish. I’m very out of shape so I didn’t want to hurt myself. About ten minutes into it, I got cocky and was all, “IM’A RUN. WATCH ME Y’ALL” and I cranked it up to a slow jog. Now, I wasn’t even good at jogging when I was skinny and in shape. I have the knees of the Cryptkeeper and they squeak and crack when I get up off the couch so I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I was jogging and feeling very sweaty and productive. I slowed the treadmill down back to my comfortable pace and my knees were all, “AHH. WHY DOES IT HATES US, PRECIOUS? IT BURNS. IT BURNSSSSSS.”
P.S. my knees are also Gollum.

I alternated jogging and briskly walking for thirty minutes until I’d had enough of the treadmill and I hobbled off. I felt good even though I was drenched in sweat. It’s so crazy to think that three years ago, I could take a one hour power aerobics class and still have breath to spare at the end but jogging/fast walking on a treadmill now makes me almost suffocate and die.

Even though I hate working out and the treadmill makes me all *side eye*, I decided it needs a name if we’re going to continue to be friends. I decided to name it John Cleese, because that’s what I see when I walk. We have a Monty Python poster on the wall directly in front of the treadmill. When I’m exercising, I’m staring at this the whole time:



Even though I dread using John Cleese, even though while I’m walking I’m actually thinking about tacos and cheese logs, I’m going to stick with it. I have no excuse. So begins Operation: Fit for BlogHer. Me & John Cleese are going to become well acquainted over the next 12 months even if he is an old, dusty son of a bitch.




Taking it easy

Ever since the kickboxing class on Wednesday, I’ve been taking it easy. My leg muscles are screaming at me, and upon the wise advise of my dear husband, I’ve decided to take today off. I worked out very lightly with Michelle last night (we just walked on treadmills.. I put an incline on mine, but walked at a steady/slow pace). Tomorrow it’s back, I have yoga in the morning. Woot!

There is a possibility of a new job on the horizon, one with a company I’ve kind of had my eye on in my peripheral vision for a few months. My friend Ryan works there, and the way he talks about it, it seems mega laid back, and just an overall good place to work. I’m excited about the prospect of a new job, because this one is wearing on me already. I haven’t even been here for a year, and already I’m tired of it. My coworkers and manager are very cool, but as far as professionally goes.. I’m left with a lot of work picking up where others lack. And I’m not okay with that. I also don’t feel like I get paid enough for the work I do.

So, we’ll see what happens. I went to my coworker’s going away mini-party today. He got a new job.. I had a slice of cake and a handful of Doritos. I went to McDonald’s for lunch and got a Happy Meal with apple slices instead of french fries. I looked up the nutritional info, and the cheeseburger I had was only 300 calories, much to my surprise. So I don’t feel too horrible about the things I’ve eaten today.

I can’t wait to get this weight off, and feel like me again. It’s going to be wonderful.


Well, I did it. I joined a gym. I’ve been going with my friend Michelle about 3 times a week now as her guest (her membership allows her to bring someone for free each visit), but on the days I don’t go with her, I’ve been having to work out at our apartment complex’s gym. I hate our apartment complex’s gym. It’s a tiny little room with a treadmill, an elliptical, a bike, and a weight bench. I don’t like being in there alone, and the machines are old and are never cleaned. I dread going, and get bored. I am not the type of person that can exercise on her own; I have come to find that out. I need a gym.

So, last night Michelle and I went to the gym a little early to chat with someone about a membership for me. I chose a limited membership; for $39.00 a month I can go to only one branch, and can only go three days a week. I chose Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday because those are the days I don’t get to go with Michelle. So basically, my only off day from exercise will be Monday. I go with Michelle Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays (yoga!). I signed a 36 month contract, which made me kind of anxious at first but I realize that it will make me adopt this as a lifestyle, not just.. A “weight loss” program. I don’t want to just lose weight, I want to be healthy and stay healthy.

I worry about what will happen when I do get pregnant. I know that I want to exercise while I’m pregnant, but after the baby comes, I won’t be able to do much of anything for at least 6 weeks while I heal. The guy I signed up with said I could freeze my account with a doctor’s note, so that’s good.

I’m cutting this a little short.. I’ve got stuff I have to do.