Work, Tabata, ALL THE BURPEES.

Well, it’s me. Here I am, at my sad, lonely, little blog. I’m not even sure that anyone reads this anymore. I feel kind of bad for neglecting it so, but life has been busy.

I’ve been at my new job for about six weeks now, and I love it. I am challenged nearly every day and I am part of an awesome team of smart, dedicated, and hard-working people who make me want to push myself to do the best job that I possibly can. The management team is encouraging, positive, and are just generally awesome.

I’ve also started taking advantage of my company’s gym and more specifically, the afternoon workout class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’m still not back to running since hurting myself at Run For Your Lives so I decided to jump into the class to get some cardio in. I figured it’d be easy; I had been watching them from afar for a little while and I figured I’d jump right in and be fine.

Oh my god. I was so wrong. Mondays are weight training days so for the first time in my life, I’m doing bench presses, squats with weights, rows, dips, and dead lifts. Wednesdays and Fridays are Tabata days, and I’m fairly certain that Tabata stands for “TORTURE ABSOLUTE BALLS ASS TORTURE ALWAYS”. Every Tabata session starts with 4 minutes of 20 second jump rope intervals, which I thought would be easy but again: WRONG WRONG WRONGY WRONG. It’s so hard. After jump rope we do sets of random, horrible exercises designed to light our muscles on fire and make us consider either suicide or homicide. Today we did an exercise called “Roxanne”, to which the other members of the group were like AHHHH SHIT NO NOT ROXANNE and I was like “What’s so bad about Roxanne?”

Let me tell you what’s so bad about Roxanne. The song “Roxanne” is played and you do jumping jacks the whole time, except for when they sing the word “Roxanne”, and then when they do that, you do a burpee. In case you don’t know what a burpee is, check this out. I am fairly certain that the exercise was created by Satan himself to punish everyone forever.

Anyway, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY TIMES THAT ASSHOLE SAYS “ROXANNE” DURING THE COURSE OF THAT SONG? I just Googled it and got conflicting answers but the general consensus is between 26-29 times. SO MANY BURPEES. Seriously, listen to the song and imagine doing burpees every time they say “Roxanne”. Or instead of imagining; do it. It’s harder than you’d think. Toward the end of the song, I pretty much just put myself on the ground and stayed there until it was over.

That’s how life has been recently work-wise. Long story short, it’s been amazing. I’m struggling to get these last 20-25 pounds off and am stuck at a 27 pound total weight loss. Hopefully these “Roxanne”s and “squat circle”s and “Satan burpees” will help me lose this last chunk of weight and get more fit overall.

Writing for is taking up most of my writing time and creative energy. I haven’t been investing as much as I was in the beginning, and it’s showing in my work. My last columns have been kinda “meh”, but hopefully I’ll be able to change that. I’m still freelancing, and have actually been doing some printed copywriting which is really awesome. It’s just little pieces of copy here and there, but there is something thrilling about reading something that I wrote. That came from me; from my mind. It’s pretty amazing.

I was also interviewed for a story on about my experience with Run For Your Lives. Also awesome and thrilling.

I think this might be the most boring blog post of all time, so if you are still reading it, thank you. Thanks for sticking around and listening to my rambling.

ALL THE FITNESS and Also Goats.

Oh my god I have been the worst ever at internets lately. I opened my Google Reader this evening to catch up on some blogs, and I was so behind I just slammed my laptop shut and started weeping.

Okay I didn’t really do that but I wanted to.

So the main reason I’ve been so lazy with blogging is because I have been crazy busy. Working full-time is enough, but I’ve added at least 45 minutes of gym time to my routine almost every single day. Once I leave work I go to the gym. Then I have to drive to get Nellie from daycare. Then we drive home. Then I make dinner. Then I do bedtime with the girl. Then I flop on the couch and Josh and I zone out to whatever show it is we are catching up on (now that American Horror Story is over, it’s mainly Walking Dead. I am also obsessed with Downton Abbey but can’t watch the third season without paying for it. WOE IS ME) and then we crash at around 9 P.M.


My workouts have looked mostly like this:
Monday: Couch to 5k
Tuesday: Elliptical
Wednesday: Couch to 5k
Thursday: Elliptical
Friday: Couch to 5k

Recently I’ve added strength training in on my C25k days. I just finished Week 4 (my Chicago trip and then a few days of feeling kind of sickie threw me off) and will begin Week 5 on Monday. So far, I am down 11 pounds in about 11 weeks. I only just started taking measurements, so I do not know how many inches I have lost and from where. I do know that the pajamas I bought for my Halloween costume (in case you need a refresher, here is my costume from this last year)

Are now fitting better. When I bought them, the bottom button struggled to close, and the top didn’t really fit down over my hips. Now when I wear them (because they are actually very comfortable – definitely a Goodwill win), they fall easily down over my hips and all buttons close with ease. So I have definitely lost inches in my hip region, and I am pretty sure my waist has narrowed a little. I have a habit of resting my hands on my stomach when I’m in bed (I got so used to doing it when I was pregnant, I guess I just never really stopped) and I noticed that last night my lower stomach is not as round as it once was.

Progress. Yay! The most important part of all of this is that I feel so much better. I feel strong, healthy, and I sleep better at night. I have a pleasantly exhausted sensation in my entire body most nights when I snuggle into bed.

I still have a long way to go. My last weigh-in was 198, which is nowhere near where I need to be physically but with every day that passes, and with every step I take, I am getting closer to a healthy weight.

I don’t have much more to say, so I will leave you with this video of a goat screaming at Taylor Swift.


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.




Not much to say

Now that we’re on a TTC break, and this is sort of my TTC journal, it’s been quiet. I don’t have much to report right now… I’ve got my wisdom tooth surgery rescheduled for January the 12th. We’re going to miss this cycle of trying but we shouldn’t miss next cycle. I’m set to O around late January, so we should be back in the game by then.

I’m really disappointed in myself and my fitness. It’s been bothering me for a few weeks now. I keep saying that I’m going to go to the gym, and I never do. I did so well the first half of this year…. I lost 20 pounds, and I felt great. Now I guarantee I’ve gained at LEAST 10 of those pounds back, and I’m feeling sluggish and out of shape again. I have to start all over again. I have to find the motivation that I found in January…… It’s hiding from me and I’m irritated. Every night I lie in bed thinking about how fat I feel, and vow to myself that I will go to the gym. And I never do.

All I need is three days a week. Three days a week to get me started…. *sighs*

I think I’m going to start posting a song lyric at the end of my blog entry if I’m listening to music. So here’s the song I’m listening to right now.

“When I counted up my demons, saw there was one for every day. With the good ones on my shoulder, I drove the other ones away. So if you ever feel neglected, and you think that all is lost, I’ll be counting up my demons yeah, hoping everything’s not lost.” ~ Everything’s Not Lost by Coldplay.

Enough is enough.

I haven’t been sticking to a workout routine, nor a healthy eating pattern, since May.



This is unacceptable.

Starting TODAY, I am getting back into it. I’m taking the opportunity that my stupid AF gave me this month to get back into my exercise regimen hard core.

My PreSeed showed up last night, and needless to say, after a “trial run”, I have to say I’m pretty happy with it. I need to pick up some more OPKs. I plan on following the “Sperm Meets Egg” plan this cycle, so I will be starting our BDing this Saturday, and I will start using OPKs this coming Monday.

So that’s where I am right now. My fitness regimen starts anew TODAY. Not tomorrow, not Thursday. TO-DAY.


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.