It's been a while since I blogged, partially due to laziness and partly due to being busy with other things. I'm still diligently working my A** off at the gym, slowly losing the weight and building up the muscles. Pretty soon, I will have to give up all my comfy saggy fat pants in favour of something form fitting. I'm about to leave the safety of the plus size section of the ladies department for the much bigger and scarier "regular sized section". Sizes such as 1X, 2X make total sense to me. Small, Medium and large not so much. I step with great trepidation among the racks of stylish clothing without elastic waistbands and built in tummy control. It's confusing!
I'm also at a bit of an impasse with Bicki. Don't get me wrong,he's been a great trainer. We have made huge amounts of progress, he and I, but recently his mind seems to be on something (or someone) else. It first started with a change in our regular schedule. Suddenly, he was not "available" on Thursdays. Then a series of late's, rescheduled appointments and then today, a flat out no-show. I'm no fool... I know what's going on... Bicki has another...CUSTOMER!!!!!!
Sure, we can go on pretending like there's nothing going on, that everything is just as it was when we first met. Me in my tight gym pants and he with his rippling muscles and shaved head. I should have known that it couldn't last.
So fine! let him have his other customer, I hope she's a 20 something flake who dumps him after she loses 20 pounds. She'll never be interested in listening to all his griping and complaining about how crappy his job is or how stupid his ex girlfriends are, or how little all the other trainers at the gym know.
She won't be able to give him advice on how to approach that pretty girl across the gym, cause she'll think she's the ONLY girl worth looking at. And forget getting her to squat and lunge her way through a work out. God forbid that she might actually sweat! Whatever. We are SO DONE!!!!!!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
I hate to admit it...
... but Steve was... um... right. CRAP!!!! In the past 4 weeks, I have lost 8, count 'em 8 pounds! Thanks in no small part to the extra 45 minutes per day that I "plod" on the treadmill every day. He told me that slowing down my heart rate on the treadmill and increasing the number of days I exercise would speed up the weight loss and damn it, he was right. Not that I've given him the satisfaction by telling him.
It's incredible how much I am learning and changing as I continue this quest from obese to 'oh baby'. For example: although technically I am considered obese according to medical standards, I always thought of myself as over weight and a little bit out of shape. I now understand the strain my body is under for every extra pound I carry, and I can appreciate the smallest victory such as not being winded after going up a flight of stairs. My joints are not as creaky, my neck and back don't hurt as much as they did, and I don't have the level of fatigue I did a few months ago. Most surprising is the amount of food that I can do without! I have all but given up fast foods, snack foods (potato chips etc.)and candy. I try to at least take a moment to think about what I am about to eat, instead of giving into a craving and stuffing myself. All the junk foods still call out to me, but for the most part, I make specific plans and and choose the time and place for a small indulgence. It's not cheating if you work it into the weekly plan and then work a little but harder in the gym after the fact.
Some things have not changed, and I am determined to shift a few old paradigms now that I have much of the basics under control.
Paradigm #1: I INHALE MY FOOD. No sure why, but when I sit down in front a plate of food, I plow through it in seconds, sometimes cramming several forkfuls into my mouth before chewing and swallowing. Many of the sources I have researched suggest that I chew 20 - 30 times for each mouthful of food. So, I am going to work on slowing down the pace, chewing on only 1 mouthful at a time.
Paradigm #2: I think I have a good memory for details and therefore don't need to keep track of how much food I put into my body. But I am very good at glossing over the little things that likely add up. Also, I am supposed to be creating a calorie deficit by eating less and exercising more, but I have no clue about any of the numbers.. It's time to stop assuming and start keeping accurate records. I've bought a food log and I'm going to spend the next month recording everything that goes into my mouth.
It's incredible how much I am learning and changing as I continue this quest from obese to 'oh baby'. For example: although technically I am considered obese according to medical standards, I always thought of myself as over weight and a little bit out of shape. I now understand the strain my body is under for every extra pound I carry, and I can appreciate the smallest victory such as not being winded after going up a flight of stairs. My joints are not as creaky, my neck and back don't hurt as much as they did, and I don't have the level of fatigue I did a few months ago. Most surprising is the amount of food that I can do without! I have all but given up fast foods, snack foods (potato chips etc.)and candy. I try to at least take a moment to think about what I am about to eat, instead of giving into a craving and stuffing myself. All the junk foods still call out to me, but for the most part, I make specific plans and and choose the time and place for a small indulgence. It's not cheating if you work it into the weekly plan and then work a little but harder in the gym after the fact.
Some things have not changed, and I am determined to shift a few old paradigms now that I have much of the basics under control.
Paradigm #1: I INHALE MY FOOD. No sure why, but when I sit down in front a plate of food, I plow through it in seconds, sometimes cramming several forkfuls into my mouth before chewing and swallowing. Many of the sources I have researched suggest that I chew 20 - 30 times for each mouthful of food. So, I am going to work on slowing down the pace, chewing on only 1 mouthful at a time.
Paradigm #2: I think I have a good memory for details and therefore don't need to keep track of how much food I put into my body. But I am very good at glossing over the little things that likely add up. Also, I am supposed to be creating a calorie deficit by eating less and exercising more, but I have no clue about any of the numbers.. It's time to stop assuming and start keeping accurate records. I've bought a food log and I'm going to spend the next month recording everything that goes into my mouth.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
...and I'm back!
So, it's been a few weeks since my last post, which some of you will remember as my temper tantrum after my last and I mean LAST fitness assessment.
I'm over it and I am pleased to say that I am more determined than EVER!. Since that day, I have made a commitment to doing something physical every day of the week. Right now, that consists of doing 45 minutes of cardio every day. I actually love doing this! Somehow, a 45 minute session on the treadmill always gives me a sense of satisfaction. It's like Valium only healthier (but possibly as addictive.) We have a treadmill in the "fitness centre" in our condo building, so it's easy to live up to the commitment. I pop down at at time convenient to me, take a good book and walk a couple of K's and a nice easy pace. I even figured out how to set the treadmill up to keep me from exceeding my maximum heart rate level of 108 bpm. The time usually flies by as I get engrossed in my book.
Right now, I'm reading a Max Haines book. This non-fiction author is well known for writing about all kinds of murders. Somewhat macabre, but quite therapeutic in a sick sort of way. I now know about 200 ways to murder someone, and I also know what one has to do to avoid getting caught. It seems that the number 1 reason people get caught for murder that they admit it, usually because they do a real lousy job of getting rid of the murder weapon, and they make up outrageous stories when talking to the police. Oh, and when murdering someone for the insurance money, one needs to be careful not to make a habit of it... apparently they check into these kind of things.
While working out with Bikky the other day, Steve minced over and asked me if I am doing the extra cardio. I confirmed this and told him about reading the Max Haines book. I smiled as I stated that I now know how to kill someone and get away with it...went right over his head. Bikky thought it was funny though.
So, over the past few weeks I've learned a lot of new things:
I don't need to gauge my self-esteem by a few numbers on a scale or measuring tape or what some guy at the gym has to say... nor do I have to base my value as a human being on the size of my clothes or the shape of my body. Yes, feedback is important, but what I need to pay attention to are the important things... like being right with God and at peace with myself. Liking what I see when I look at myself in the mirror has more to do with the way I live my life and less to do with body image. (Although I must say, my tushie is starting to look quite perky!)
I also know that trying to cover up a murder by dissolving a body in a barrel of acid is impractical. So is burying it in a shallow grave in the woods, or hiding it under the bed, cause that's the first place people look. (I'm not going to tell you the best ways, cause I don't want to be a bad influence.)Forewarned is forearmed!
So, in summary, working out is good, loving yourself for who you are is better, and murder is bad... and working out with Bikky is murder, but I love every minute of it!
I'm over it and I am pleased to say that I am more determined than EVER!. Since that day, I have made a commitment to doing something physical every day of the week. Right now, that consists of doing 45 minutes of cardio every day. I actually love doing this! Somehow, a 45 minute session on the treadmill always gives me a sense of satisfaction. It's like Valium only healthier (but possibly as addictive.) We have a treadmill in the "fitness centre" in our condo building, so it's easy to live up to the commitment. I pop down at at time convenient to me, take a good book and walk a couple of K's and a nice easy pace. I even figured out how to set the treadmill up to keep me from exceeding my maximum heart rate level of 108 bpm. The time usually flies by as I get engrossed in my book.
Right now, I'm reading a Max Haines book. This non-fiction author is well known for writing about all kinds of murders. Somewhat macabre, but quite therapeutic in a sick sort of way. I now know about 200 ways to murder someone, and I also know what one has to do to avoid getting caught. It seems that the number 1 reason people get caught for murder that they admit it, usually because they do a real lousy job of getting rid of the murder weapon, and they make up outrageous stories when talking to the police. Oh, and when murdering someone for the insurance money, one needs to be careful not to make a habit of it... apparently they check into these kind of things.
While working out with Bikky the other day, Steve minced over and asked me if I am doing the extra cardio. I confirmed this and told him about reading the Max Haines book. I smiled as I stated that I now know how to kill someone and get away with it...went right over his head. Bikky thought it was funny though.
So, over the past few weeks I've learned a lot of new things:
I don't need to gauge my self-esteem by a few numbers on a scale or measuring tape or what some guy at the gym has to say... nor do I have to base my value as a human being on the size of my clothes or the shape of my body. Yes, feedback is important, but what I need to pay attention to are the important things... like being right with God and at peace with myself. Liking what I see when I look at myself in the mirror has more to do with the way I live my life and less to do with body image. (Although I must say, my tushie is starting to look quite perky!)
I also know that trying to cover up a murder by dissolving a body in a barrel of acid is impractical. So is burying it in a shallow grave in the woods, or hiding it under the bed, cause that's the first place people look. (I'm not going to tell you the best ways, cause I don't want to be a bad influence.)Forewarned is forearmed!
So, in summary, working out is good, loving yourself for who you are is better, and murder is bad... and working out with Bikky is murder, but I love every minute of it!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
I will not succome to the tyranny of the measuring tape
I am amazing. I am awesome. I am beautiful. I am bright. I am creative. I am corny. I am delightful. I am determined. I am edgy. I am eating healthy. I am friendly. I AM FINE. I am grateful. I am gorgeous! I am healthier. I am happy. I am idealistic. I am I. I am Jan (duh!) I am jolly (not just 'cause I'm fat). I am kind. I am kind of cool. I am lovely. I am lucky (to have you as my friend). I am mommy, ma, mother and ma ma. I am MAD!!!(in that British kind of way). I am nice. I am naughty. I am open-minded. I am Oh sooo cool! I am polite. I am plumpy. I am Quite MAD (in a pi**ed off sort of way). I am Qute (made that one up.) I am Reaching past my toes which means I am flexible) I am Really Really determined to go the distance. I am Sista to my friends and Sister to my Sista's. I am a Silly-billy (for caring about the scale and measuring tape). I am terrific! I am tired of being fat. I am understanding. I am un-defeated! I am voluptuous. I am Very Very MAD!!! (in that British, pi**ed off kind of way) I am WOMAN!!! I am Wishing that I did insert that stupid body fat gizmo up Steve's healthy, fit A**. I am Xcited that this diatribe is almost done. I am eXcellent. I am young at heart. I am yawning. I am ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Bad Day at the Gym
Last month, I had amazing results from my fitness assessment. I lost 8 pounds, 5" off my waist, and 1.5% body fat. There was some additional inches off the rest of me and I showed general improvement overall in terms of strength.
This month, although I have noticed a distinct difference in the way my clothing fits (sagging pants, boobs are now actually rambling around in my DD cups, buttons stay buttoned across my chest instead of popping open or gaping) People seem to notice my weight loss more this month than last month. But if I am to believe today's numbers, NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!
I lost only 2 pounds. I expected to see some drastic drop in inches from my bust, waist and hips, but the loss was zip or at best forgettable. What did change, was my body fat %. It went down 3% and that is a lot of fat and probably why my body looks different and my clothes fit better.
So, the question I have, is... Should I do these monthly assessments?
I feel discouraged, disappointed in myself, and today, I have wavered between giving up and burying my face in a box of timbits (the BIG box). Of course, I'm not going to do either, I am as committed to this as ever, figuratively and financially...
But right now, I'm playing silly mind games and basing my entire self-worth on the number on a scale and measuring tape.
To make matters worse, Steve the ASSesser (pun intended)had the audacity to question my commitment! Am I actually coming 3 times a week? Do I workout on my own with the same intensity as I do with Bikky? And what about diet? Am I cheating?, Eating junk food? Huge portions?
He has no idea how close he came to having that stupid body fat gizmo shoved up his health fit A**!!!!
And get this... Steve the ASSessor also tells me that I should never allow my heart rate to go over 105 beats per minute while doing my 45 minute cardio... apparently that burns more fat than working at a higher intensity and burning 500 calories in 45 minutes... confused? Me too!
Like I said,bad day at the gym... can't wait to see what Bikky has to say about all this...
This month, although I have noticed a distinct difference in the way my clothing fits (sagging pants, boobs are now actually rambling around in my DD cups, buttons stay buttoned across my chest instead of popping open or gaping) People seem to notice my weight loss more this month than last month. But if I am to believe today's numbers, NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!
I lost only 2 pounds. I expected to see some drastic drop in inches from my bust, waist and hips, but the loss was zip or at best forgettable. What did change, was my body fat %. It went down 3% and that is a lot of fat and probably why my body looks different and my clothes fit better.
So, the question I have, is... Should I do these monthly assessments?
I feel discouraged, disappointed in myself, and today, I have wavered between giving up and burying my face in a box of timbits (the BIG box). Of course, I'm not going to do either, I am as committed to this as ever, figuratively and financially...
But right now, I'm playing silly mind games and basing my entire self-worth on the number on a scale and measuring tape.
To make matters worse, Steve the ASSesser (pun intended)had the audacity to question my commitment! Am I actually coming 3 times a week? Do I workout on my own with the same intensity as I do with Bikky? And what about diet? Am I cheating?, Eating junk food? Huge portions?
He has no idea how close he came to having that stupid body fat gizmo shoved up his health fit A**!!!!
And get this... Steve the ASSessor also tells me that I should never allow my heart rate to go over 105 beats per minute while doing my 45 minute cardio... apparently that burns more fat than working at a higher intensity and burning 500 calories in 45 minutes... confused? Me too!
Like I said,bad day at the gym... can't wait to see what Bikky has to say about all this...
Monday, February 16, 2009
My kingdom for a cheeseburger!
It's official... I have fallen off the wagon... The "diet" wagon. Thanks to stupid 'ol Valentine's day. Since I started this journey, I have completely changed my eating habits. I have cut out white potatoes, pasta, rice, and all forms of junk food. My guilty pleasures these days have been 3 low sodium Triscuits with 2 tiny 1" x 1" wafer thin slices of cheese as a bedtime-treat. I did relax the rules a bit at Christmas, but managed to get back on track as soon as I got back home.
But on Saturday night, Eric and I went out for a Valentine's meal, and I have been plagued with cravings for all kinds of crap ever since. So, a confession is in order:
Forgive me trainer, for I have sinned...It's been 24 hours since my last workout.
I have craved for cheese burgers and fries, dreamed about cheesecake, fantasized about pizza and indulged in banana chocolate chip muffins (twice!). I ate 5 baby potatoes and white chocolate raspberry creme brule. I have pictured myself in bed with a bag of rosemary/garlic kettle-style potato chips (not naked, cause that's just wrong).I've nibbled twice on Eric's chocolate bars, and sniffed the wrappers after he went to bed. And I loved it!!! Love it I tell ya!
Is there rehab for food addicts like me?
But on Saturday night, Eric and I went out for a Valentine's meal, and I have been plagued with cravings for all kinds of crap ever since. So, a confession is in order:
Forgive me trainer, for I have sinned...It's been 24 hours since my last workout.
I have craved for cheese burgers and fries, dreamed about cheesecake, fantasized about pizza and indulged in banana chocolate chip muffins (twice!). I ate 5 baby potatoes and white chocolate raspberry creme brule. I have pictured myself in bed with a bag of rosemary/garlic kettle-style potato chips (not naked, cause that's just wrong).I've nibbled twice on Eric's chocolate bars, and sniffed the wrappers after he went to bed. And I loved it!!! Love it I tell ya!
Is there rehab for food addicts like me?
Sunday, February 8, 2009
For Sale... 1 pair of black gym pants - slightly used.
I have not posted much for the past few weeks, mainly because I don't have the energy or physical ability to lift the computer onto my lap. That's how hard Bikki works me and that's how hard I work myself. You can't argue with success, because the fat is melting away quicker than I had hoped for. Perhaps a bit too quickly
Due to my rapid shrinking,I have become one of those people at the gym who wear over sized clothing that although comfy, does not always do a good job of covering everything that should remained covered at all times.
I give much of the credit for my baggy gym pants to a simple exercise called the squat Not a very lady-like exercise but it gets the job done.
Now for those of you who are not familiar with the squat, picture this. I am standing with my feet shoulder width apart, hands crossed over my chest and I squat so that my thighs are parallel to the floor. The best way to know for sure that I am squatting low enough is to check myself out in the mirror. So, I do a few squats before realizing the i am sporting a noticeable "plumber's crack" which is not a fetching look no matter how spectacular one's tushy might be. Mine might be real, but it is definitely not spectacular...yet.
So all of a sudden, I am feeling a bit conflicted. I want to do the squats,[cause squats melt the fat,) but I don't want to traumatize the folks behind me. So I try to hike up my gym pants (my 8$ gym pants) and tie the string in the waist band tightly. Bad choice. Now the hem of my pants are barely clearing the tops of my socks, and the crotch is snugly wedged in my butt crack. This also, is not a fetching look. It all went down hill from there.
FYI... NEVER try doing a squat with your gym pants hiked up your "hoo hoo" unless you enjoy having a crowd of confused and horrified people watch as you extricate said gym pants from a place you're not supposed to touch...even in the dark.
I'm getting quite a reputation at the gym.
Due to my rapid shrinking,I have become one of those people at the gym who wear over sized clothing that although comfy, does not always do a good job of covering everything that should remained covered at all times.
I give much of the credit for my baggy gym pants to a simple exercise called the squat Not a very lady-like exercise but it gets the job done.
Now for those of you who are not familiar with the squat, picture this. I am standing with my feet shoulder width apart, hands crossed over my chest and I squat so that my thighs are parallel to the floor. The best way to know for sure that I am squatting low enough is to check myself out in the mirror. So, I do a few squats before realizing the i am sporting a noticeable "plumber's crack" which is not a fetching look no matter how spectacular one's tushy might be. Mine might be real, but it is definitely not spectacular...yet.
So all of a sudden, I am feeling a bit conflicted. I want to do the squats,[cause squats melt the fat,) but I don't want to traumatize the folks behind me. So I try to hike up my gym pants (my 8$ gym pants) and tie the string in the waist band tightly. Bad choice. Now the hem of my pants are barely clearing the tops of my socks, and the crotch is snugly wedged in my butt crack. This also, is not a fetching look. It all went down hill from there.
FYI... NEVER try doing a squat with your gym pants hiked up your "hoo hoo" unless you enjoy having a crowd of confused and horrified people watch as you extricate said gym pants from a place you're not supposed to touch...even in the dark.
I'm getting quite a reputation at the gym.
A posting from Judy Bagshaw
This posting comes your way from my cousin Judy Bagshaw, author of many books featuring a plus sized heroine. An amazing person and writer! Read on:
Far be it for me to pass up a direct challenge!! Please, please, pretty please, can I chair the international organization of REAL sized people?? The fashion industry in a word, sucks, for anyone above a size 14. And even the so-called plus sized stores cut off at size 24 much of the time. That just burns my waffles, let me tell you!! I haven't been a size 24 since...hm....let me see...can I remember that far back? For several years, I've been purchasing clothes from U.S. designers--designers whose clothes START at a size 22 and go up from there!!! Um...HELLO CANADIAN DESIGNERS!! Anyone up here have the...ahem...pincushions to start a company like that?? I guarantee that if you market well, the clothes will fly off the hangers. I've spent years writing letters to Pennington's head office and complaining and slowly I'm seeing some gradual, minute changes happening (like finally some bras for us gifted girls!!) but I can only live so long, and I'd like to see some serious change in my lifetime.
So, yeah, if this coalition of ticked off fashion cheated women gets off the ground...I'm THERE!!!
Far be it for me to pass up a direct challenge!! Please, please, pretty please, can I chair the international organization of REAL sized people?? The fashion industry in a word, sucks, for anyone above a size 14. And even the so-called plus sized stores cut off at size 24 much of the time. That just burns my waffles, let me tell you!! I haven't been a size 24 since...hm....let me see...can I remember that far back? For several years, I've been purchasing clothes from U.S. designers--designers whose clothes START at a size 22 and go up from there!!! Um...HELLO CANADIAN DESIGNERS!! Anyone up here have the...ahem...pincushions to start a company like that?? I guarantee that if you market well, the clothes will fly off the hangers. I've spent years writing letters to Pennington's head office and complaining and slowly I'm seeing some gradual, minute changes happening (like finally some bras for us gifted girls!!) but I can only live so long, and I'd like to see some serious change in my lifetime.
So, yeah, if this coalition of ticked off fashion cheated women gets off the ground...I'm THERE!!!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
O.k. people. It’s time to get some of you involved in contributing to this blog. I propose a debate on the clothing manufacturing industry. Hence the following resolution:
Resolved: That the design and manufacture of clothing should be controlled by an international organization of REAL sized people who can grasp the concept that life does not end at size 12.
Please email your responses to me by February 13, 2009.
There will be a reward for submitting a contribution.
Resolved: That the design and manufacture of clothing should be controlled by an international organization of REAL sized people who can grasp the concept that life does not end at size 12.
Please email your responses to me by February 13, 2009.
There will be a reward for submitting a contribution.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
And I Pay for This?????
Speaking 0f Sweat Pants...
Does anyone happen to know of any magical product that can control the obscene sweating and purplish hue that one gets after doing 100 squats, 50 lunges, 80 sit ups, 60 chest presses and too many step-up's on the big stepper to count... I would surely appreciate any recommendations you have. I have to tell you that I look REALLY REALLY "wrung out" after one of my workout's with Bikki.
Picture this: The workout starts out with me looking confident and motivated. After the first 20 leg presses and 20 step-up's on the big stepper, I still convey a look of determination and toughness, but I'm starting to "glow" a bit. After two more sets of leg presses and step-up's, my face is beet red, my hair is pasted to my forehead, and Bikki is walking to the next machine saying "c'mon let's go" and there's me out of breath, soaked with sweat, panting and running along behind him like a dog waiting for her master to throw the frisbee again.
As the workout progresses, I go from determined and tough to desperate and breathless. I'd be begging for my life if I had enough breath left to say anything, but Bikki seems to take my gasping for breath and looks of desperation as me saying "Please Sir may I have another". And he willingly obliges with a smile on his face as he points to a gym mat and says "25 abs crunches, let's go."
Eventually though, through the haze of dementia which has settled over me about half way through the workout, I hear the words I am longing for... "O.K. Jan that's it for today. Let's book the next workout." And there's me, laying in a pool of sweat, hair sticking out in all directions, purple as an eggplant, staggering to my feet, and FOLLOWING HIM TO BOOK MY NEXT WORKOUT!
I wonder if there's such a thing as green tea flavoured, bottled water with nitro glycerin additives.
Does anyone happen to know of any magical product that can control the obscene sweating and purplish hue that one gets after doing 100 squats, 50 lunges, 80 sit ups, 60 chest presses and too many step-up's on the big stepper to count... I would surely appreciate any recommendations you have. I have to tell you that I look REALLY REALLY "wrung out" after one of my workout's with Bikki.
Picture this: The workout starts out with me looking confident and motivated. After the first 20 leg presses and 20 step-up's on the big stepper, I still convey a look of determination and toughness, but I'm starting to "glow" a bit. After two more sets of leg presses and step-up's, my face is beet red, my hair is pasted to my forehead, and Bikki is walking to the next machine saying "c'mon let's go" and there's me out of breath, soaked with sweat, panting and running along behind him like a dog waiting for her master to throw the frisbee again.
As the workout progresses, I go from determined and tough to desperate and breathless. I'd be begging for my life if I had enough breath left to say anything, but Bikki seems to take my gasping for breath and looks of desperation as me saying "Please Sir may I have another". And he willingly obliges with a smile on his face as he points to a gym mat and says "25 abs crunches, let's go."
Eventually though, through the haze of dementia which has settled over me about half way through the workout, I hear the words I am longing for... "O.K. Jan that's it for today. Let's book the next workout." And there's me, laying in a pool of sweat, hair sticking out in all directions, purple as an eggplant, staggering to my feet, and FOLLOWING HIM TO BOOK MY NEXT WORKOUT!
I wonder if there's such a thing as green tea flavoured, bottled water with nitro glycerin additives.
A Rant About Gym Pants
So, last weekend I decide that it is high time for me to replace some of my ratty looking gym clothes. I’m not one of those thong-wearing over spandex shorts type of gals, and I am fairly cognizant of the need for modesty. (Remember the Wrong Bra, Wrong Day incident?) And I definitely am not dressing to impress anyone at the gym – but at the same time, it behooves me to toss out the gym pants that have become so decrepit that the crotch is about to dissolve. No point in taking the risk of exposing my “charms” to fellow gym members and or/trainers. That’s how people get nick names like “Ms. Show’s-off-her-Crotch-a-lot” or “the Flasher” or “Hoo Hoo Girl”
So I decided to visit the local mall to check out my options. I figured that I would be able to walk in, grab a few pairs of black sweat pants off the rack and be on my way. No such luck. First of all, apparently women no longer wear “sweat” pants. No sir, not for us is the comfort and simplicity of something stretchy and forgiving. We have to don yoga wear, or active wear specifically designed to make us look tastefully healthy and svelte. We must coordinate our pants with matching tops and warm-up jackets which cost exorbitant amounts of money. $55.00 for a pair of gym pants? Are you kidding me?
Seriously, I searched everywhere for black sweats, but to no avail. And before you ask, no, I did not go to Wal-Mart… I will not shop at Wal-Mart EVER AGAIN!!!...(long story – different blog.) I had already decided to go home and figure out a way to shore up the crotch of my old pants, when I suddenly noticed a rack of sweats crammed into a corner at Zeller,s. And there they were… plain old black sweats, on sale for 8 bucks a pair. SCORE!!!!! Of course, all but one pair were 3 sizes too big for me, but I will treasure my new cheap comfy sweat pants forever. Or until Bikki reshapes my body and they start hanging off my butt.
I have to admit, that I also bought a pair of Yoga Pants… don’t ask me why. Perhaps they just called out to me like my little black dress… Oh no! what evilness has over taken me now?
So I decided to visit the local mall to check out my options. I figured that I would be able to walk in, grab a few pairs of black sweat pants off the rack and be on my way. No such luck. First of all, apparently women no longer wear “sweat” pants. No sir, not for us is the comfort and simplicity of something stretchy and forgiving. We have to don yoga wear, or active wear specifically designed to make us look tastefully healthy and svelte. We must coordinate our pants with matching tops and warm-up jackets which cost exorbitant amounts of money. $55.00 for a pair of gym pants? Are you kidding me?
Seriously, I searched everywhere for black sweats, but to no avail. And before you ask, no, I did not go to Wal-Mart… I will not shop at Wal-Mart EVER AGAIN!!!...(long story – different blog.) I had already decided to go home and figure out a way to shore up the crotch of my old pants, when I suddenly noticed a rack of sweats crammed into a corner at Zeller,s. And there they were… plain old black sweats, on sale for 8 bucks a pair. SCORE!!!!! Of course, all but one pair were 3 sizes too big for me, but I will treasure my new cheap comfy sweat pants forever. Or until Bikki reshapes my body and they start hanging off my butt.
I have to admit, that I also bought a pair of Yoga Pants… don’t ask me why. Perhaps they just called out to me like my little black dress… Oh no! what evilness has over taken me now?
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Need place to die...
so, I am still alive, barely... longest 30 minutes of my life... But I survived baby! I may have been drenched with sweat, purple in the face and whimpering at times, but I made it and did 45 minutes of cardio after that. When I asked Bikki if there was a name for this type of workout, he just smiled and said "I'll write it down for you." I, being quite caught up in the moment, said "This must the the Oh Lord, kill me now! workout that you keep telling me about"... He said "no, you're not ready for that yet.
So, later, when I was on the treadmill, I took a look in my workout log book. At the top of the page he had written, Hell on Earth, Part 1.
Can someone come over to roll me out of bed tomorrow morning.
So, later, when I was on the treadmill, I took a look in my workout log book. At the top of the page he had written, Hell on Earth, Part 1.
Can someone come over to roll me out of bed tomorrow morning.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Time to get serious
Time to get Serious
For those of you following my journey to fitness, you no doubt are seeing a few patterns emerging. One is that in spite of my humorous account in the blog, I am taking this whole thing seriously, and the other is that I need to LEARN TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
At my most recent training session, Bikki (My trainer) (Geeze if you don’t know that by now, you have not read back far enough in my blog! C’mon, get up to speed, or not much from this point forward will make sense. ‘Nuff said about that.)
Anyway, I was showing Bikki the results of my fitness assessment, and he seemed pleased. I say “seemed” because Bikki does not tend to show much emotion. He just sort of grunts and nods or frowns. I assume that nodding means “Way to go Jan!” and frowning means “If you don’t stop whining, I will crush you like a bug.” Personally, I prefer the nods.
So, Bikki grunts and nods, and even says “nice”. Then he turns to me and says “O.k., it’s time we get serious here. Next workout, we’re going to kick things up a notch.”
OMG!!!!!!!! Time to get serious???? WTF!!!!!!!!! I thought that doing 75 squats, with 3 minutes of stair stepping after 25 reps was fairly serious. I consider going back and forth from doing 20 ab crunches to 20 leg extensions (with 65 pounds of weight) without stopping to catch my breath and then doing another 3 minutes of stair stepping to be a noteworthy effort. And what about those 60 leg presses I did, pushing 160 pounds with my fat little legs… is that not what one might consider significant? (not to mention 30 minutes of steep hill race-walking afterwards.)
So, what do you think I said to Bikki, when he told me it’s time we get serious? See if you can choose: Did I say…
1. Why Bikki, whatever do you mean by “serious?” Or
2. WTF do you mean “serious?”Or, did I look him right in the eye and curl my upper lip and say:
3. “Bring it, Bikki.”
(actually it was a combination of 2 and 3)
Yes, that’s right. I have brought certain death upon myself, because my mouth always wants to write a cheque that my ass can’t cash.
For those of you who work with me, if I don’t show up for work on Friday, check the hospital and failing that, the morgue.
For those of you following my journey to fitness, you no doubt are seeing a few patterns emerging. One is that in spite of my humorous account in the blog, I am taking this whole thing seriously, and the other is that I need to LEARN TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
At my most recent training session, Bikki (My trainer) (Geeze if you don’t know that by now, you have not read back far enough in my blog! C’mon, get up to speed, or not much from this point forward will make sense. ‘Nuff said about that.)
Anyway, I was showing Bikki the results of my fitness assessment, and he seemed pleased. I say “seemed” because Bikki does not tend to show much emotion. He just sort of grunts and nods or frowns. I assume that nodding means “Way to go Jan!” and frowning means “If you don’t stop whining, I will crush you like a bug.” Personally, I prefer the nods.
So, Bikki grunts and nods, and even says “nice”. Then he turns to me and says “O.k., it’s time we get serious here. Next workout, we’re going to kick things up a notch.”
OMG!!!!!!!! Time to get serious???? WTF!!!!!!!!! I thought that doing 75 squats, with 3 minutes of stair stepping after 25 reps was fairly serious. I consider going back and forth from doing 20 ab crunches to 20 leg extensions (with 65 pounds of weight) without stopping to catch my breath and then doing another 3 minutes of stair stepping to be a noteworthy effort. And what about those 60 leg presses I did, pushing 160 pounds with my fat little legs… is that not what one might consider significant? (not to mention 30 minutes of steep hill race-walking afterwards.)
So, what do you think I said to Bikki, when he told me it’s time we get serious? See if you can choose: Did I say…
1. Why Bikki, whatever do you mean by “serious?” Or
2. WTF do you mean “serious?”Or, did I look him right in the eye and curl my upper lip and say:
3. “Bring it, Bikki.”
(actually it was a combination of 2 and 3)
Yes, that’s right. I have brought certain death upon myself, because my mouth always wants to write a cheque that my ass can’t cash.
For those of you who work with me, if I don’t show up for work on Friday, check the hospital and failing that, the morgue.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Do Pigs Sweat? Appearantly not so much
This entry is courtesy of my daughter Holly, who among many other accomplishments has a Bachelor's degree in Agriculture
"All animals keep cool, but some animals keep cooler than others," one of Animal Farm's politicians might be heard to grunt.
Like all warm-blooded mammals, swine (to be precise, "pig" refers solely to young swine) need to maintain a balanced body temperature. For many mammals, humans included, sweating is a useful way of keeping off the heat. Sweat cools because the evaporation of water requires energy, and when we sweat that energy gets sapped from body heat.
Pigs do have a few sweat glands, but they're not very useful for temperature adjustment. When the mercury rises on the farm, Wilber wallows in cool water or mud, which has the same evaporation effect as sweating.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Ta Daaaaaaa!
O.k. I have got to toot the 'ol horn here.... cause I ROCK!!!!
Get this: I lost 10 pounds. And according to the gizmo thingy that I squeeze in my hands, I have also lost 2% body fat. I also lost a total of 10 inches!!! (5 inches off my waist alone!) wahoooooooooo!
and if that wasn't good enough, I increased my over all upper and lower body strength, and my flexibility.
Cardio sucked a bit, but that's to be expected. I had to do these step-ups for 3 minutes, which maybe sounds like no big deal, but don't forget, I'm lifting my entire body weight straight up for 1.5 minutes on each leg as many times as I can... it's freakin hard! I still did an entire work out after the assessment, including 30 minutes of intense hills. Anyway, I'm going to have Bikki add another level to the stepper so I can work on that. I couldn't help but notice that Steve pursed his lips and shook his head as he muttered "tsk tsk" and recorded my cardio results. That cannot happen again.
Over all, Steve was very impressed! (And perhaps a little scared????)
So, next goal... I intend to lose another 8 pounds by my next assessment 4 weeks from now. And I intend to rock that cardio test. Go Jan-an, go Jan-an.
Get this: I lost 10 pounds. And according to the gizmo thingy that I squeeze in my hands, I have also lost 2% body fat. I also lost a total of 10 inches!!! (5 inches off my waist alone!) wahoooooooooo!
and if that wasn't good enough, I increased my over all upper and lower body strength, and my flexibility.
Cardio sucked a bit, but that's to be expected. I had to do these step-ups for 3 minutes, which maybe sounds like no big deal, but don't forget, I'm lifting my entire body weight straight up for 1.5 minutes on each leg as many times as I can... it's freakin hard! I still did an entire work out after the assessment, including 30 minutes of intense hills. Anyway, I'm going to have Bikki add another level to the stepper so I can work on that. I couldn't help but notice that Steve pursed his lips and shook his head as he muttered "tsk tsk" and recorded my cardio results. That cannot happen again.
Over all, Steve was very impressed! (And perhaps a little scared????)
So, next goal... I intend to lose another 8 pounds by my next assessment 4 weeks from now. And I intend to rock that cardio test. Go Jan-an, go Jan-an.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Time to Face the Music
This Saturday, January 17, at 10:00 a.m., I face the dreaded fitness assessment with Steve.
Steve is this guy at the gym who kinda talked me into signing on for 8 monthly training sessions for the next year at a cost of $200 per month. I'm not at all sorry that I made that decision, 'cause me and my pal Bikki (my trainer) are working my A** off... literally.
When I met Steve for my first "fitness assessment", it was really more of a "out-of-shape assessment" where he basically informed me that I am middle-aged, obese and on death's door if I don't take drastic measures such as signing up for a year of twice weekly training sessions. My pride was kinda hurt, and so was every muscle in my body, as part of the "fitness assessment" entailed a 40 minute grueling work out which ALMOST did kill me. I know that he enjoyed every moment. Perhaps it was something I said, like "bring it!" when he first called to schedule my "fitness assessment." Seriously, I have GOT to learn to keep my mouth shut.
After the workout and the dire predictions of my certain demise, I was asked to set my fitness goals. Having been tortured and yelled at by Steve, the only thing on my mind was revenge, so I wrote down "to get fit enough to kick Steve's ass." Seriously, it's in my file at the gym. (Let's hope someone else doesn't get to him first, 'cause, I kinda said it out loud too, and in front of witnesses. And I may have even repeated it a few times since then.)
So, this Saturday, Steve and I meet yet again, to "assess my progress." (please imagine a sneer on my face.) I know I have lost weight, my clothing is looser, my jowls are shrinking and my boobs don't try to escape from ANY of my bra's now. So I am confident that Steve will have to give me some prop's for my hard work. Oh, he'll talk a good game, and say stuff like "C'mon you big baby, you can do 5 more push up's!" or "Suck it up Princess..." or other inspirational stuff. but deep down, Steve will be afraid, very afraid.
Stay Tuned!
Steve is this guy at the gym who kinda talked me into signing on for 8 monthly training sessions for the next year at a cost of $200 per month. I'm not at all sorry that I made that decision, 'cause me and my pal Bikki (my trainer) are working my A** off... literally.
When I met Steve for my first "fitness assessment", it was really more of a "out-of-shape assessment" where he basically informed me that I am middle-aged, obese and on death's door if I don't take drastic measures such as signing up for a year of twice weekly training sessions. My pride was kinda hurt, and so was every muscle in my body, as part of the "fitness assessment" entailed a 40 minute grueling work out which ALMOST did kill me. I know that he enjoyed every moment. Perhaps it was something I said, like "bring it!" when he first called to schedule my "fitness assessment." Seriously, I have GOT to learn to keep my mouth shut.
After the workout and the dire predictions of my certain demise, I was asked to set my fitness goals. Having been tortured and yelled at by Steve, the only thing on my mind was revenge, so I wrote down "to get fit enough to kick Steve's ass." Seriously, it's in my file at the gym. (Let's hope someone else doesn't get to him first, 'cause, I kinda said it out loud too, and in front of witnesses. And I may have even repeated it a few times since then.)
So, this Saturday, Steve and I meet yet again, to "assess my progress." (please imagine a sneer on my face.) I know I have lost weight, my clothing is looser, my jowls are shrinking and my boobs don't try to escape from ANY of my bra's now. So I am confident that Steve will have to give me some prop's for my hard work. Oh, he'll talk a good game, and say stuff like "C'mon you big baby, you can do 5 more push up's!" or "Suck it up Princess..." or other inspirational stuff. but deep down, Steve will be afraid, very afraid.
Stay Tuned!
Song of my Aging Body
Song of my Aging Body
I celebrate my breath and sing my breath and what I assume you shall do if I have no breath is restart my heart with electric shock as the treadmill whirs and hums a song of ironic demise
For every moment belonging to me is as good as gone if you tarry too long with concerns of
liability and litigation.
I loaf and invite a bowl of greasy chips to pass my lips as I ignore my heart's pleading "No more!"
Oh body thou has betrayed my trust. A sniff of cake increases my bust an inch or more and gravity drags them towards the floor.
Laughter lines and wrinkles appear out of thin air in concert with my graying hair and my jaw slowly dissolves into jowls; so unjust are you, my aging body.
But all is not as it appears to be. Below the surface of my sagging skin there are forces to be reckoned with that will soon begin to show their might.
Muscles forming, tightness, uprightness, righteous strength! My heart grows stronger, my resolve grows stronger and I grow stronger bit by bit.
Age reversing, start rehearsing for the next chorus, give myself a hand.
It ain't over 'til the fat lady thins.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wrong Bra, Wrong Day
So, it's been almost 4 weeks since I joined the gym. I work out 3 times a week, twice with my "personal" trainer Bikki. Yeah, that's right, Bikki. Now before you giggle at his name, you need to meet this guy. He's a head and shoulder taller than me and all muscle. I doubt he gets very much flack from the other trainers, because he could crush their skulls with his biceps... if he wanted to.
Bikki has decided that I am a tough old broad, so he shows me NO mercy. The first time we worked out together, he grabbed one of those stepper things that you see the skinny girls using in the aerobics gym. I thought he was going to sit on it while I worked out, but he just points at is after I complete a set and says "20 times on the stepper, let's go."
And he lies!!!! He'll say 30, and just when I'm about done he'll say 10 more. Or, just for giggles, he'll add in a 4th set of some exercise just so he can make me do another set of step ups! It's my fault, because I said something about not taking it easy on me because of my gender and age. I have got to learn to shut my mouth.
So, there's me, gasping for breath, sweating like a pig (DO pigs really sweat? Somebody research that and post a comment), jiggling like a Thanksgiving Jelly mould, with a reddish/purple hue to my face. Such an attractive look. Could a girl possibly look less attractive? Sadly, I have to report that YES she can.
The other day, I went to the gym of one of my Bikki free days. I realized once I got there, that I had worn my push-up bra that day, and had failed to put a more "appropriate" foundation garments into my gym bag. This gym is a long distance from my home, so going back was not an option. I figure, what the heck... there's lots of girls around here who wear their push bra's under their gym clothes... no big deal.
People, I have to tell you it WAS A BIG DEAL! First of all, those girls are not really wearing push up bra's, their breasts actually push up naturally, if not surgically. Perky, firm boobs tend to bounce and sway to a degree but for the most part they point forward and upward.
That ship sailed a loooong time ago for me. I have 50 year old boobs... which need specially designed foundation (they call it that for a reason) garments to contain them. So, activities such as running on a treadmill, using a stepper, crunches, or any of those bending over exercises cause my "girls" to FLOP, BULGE or BOING all over the place. Seriously, the "girls" were completely out of control. At one point, I had to make an adjustment, to sort them back into their proper compartments, so I kind of did the grab and scoop thing that generally sorts things out. Then I notice the guy across the aisle from me is staring, so I give him the "wink and a gun", just to establish some solidarity... you know, "hey, it happens to the best of us... feel free to adjust your nuts if necessary." He just looked away.
Anyhoo... Wrong Bra, Wrong Day... with all the extra action I got that day, I am sure that I burned at least a 100 calories. From now on, I'll be bringing my Iron Maiden Form Bra.
Before I sign off, I must give you progress report: I have lost 7 pounds, and am now able to zip up my skinny jeans without laying down and using a coat hanger. I'm coming for you Little Black Dress...
Bikki has decided that I am a tough old broad, so he shows me NO mercy. The first time we worked out together, he grabbed one of those stepper things that you see the skinny girls using in the aerobics gym. I thought he was going to sit on it while I worked out, but he just points at is after I complete a set and says "20 times on the stepper, let's go."
And he lies!!!! He'll say 30, and just when I'm about done he'll say 10 more. Or, just for giggles, he'll add in a 4th set of some exercise just so he can make me do another set of step ups! It's my fault, because I said something about not taking it easy on me because of my gender and age. I have got to learn to shut my mouth.
So, there's me, gasping for breath, sweating like a pig (DO pigs really sweat? Somebody research that and post a comment), jiggling like a Thanksgiving Jelly mould, with a reddish/purple hue to my face. Such an attractive look. Could a girl possibly look less attractive? Sadly, I have to report that YES she can.
The other day, I went to the gym of one of my Bikki free days. I realized once I got there, that I had worn my push-up bra that day, and had failed to put a more "appropriate" foundation garments into my gym bag. This gym is a long distance from my home, so going back was not an option. I figure, what the heck... there's lots of girls around here who wear their push bra's under their gym clothes... no big deal.
People, I have to tell you it WAS A BIG DEAL! First of all, those girls are not really wearing push up bra's, their breasts actually push up naturally, if not surgically. Perky, firm boobs tend to bounce and sway to a degree but for the most part they point forward and upward.
That ship sailed a loooong time ago for me. I have 50 year old boobs... which need specially designed foundation (they call it that for a reason) garments to contain them. So, activities such as running on a treadmill, using a stepper, crunches, or any of those bending over exercises cause my "girls" to FLOP, BULGE or BOING all over the place. Seriously, the "girls" were completely out of control. At one point, I had to make an adjustment, to sort them back into their proper compartments, so I kind of did the grab and scoop thing that generally sorts things out. Then I notice the guy across the aisle from me is staring, so I give him the "wink and a gun", just to establish some solidarity... you know, "hey, it happens to the best of us... feel free to adjust your nuts if necessary." He just looked away.
Anyhoo... Wrong Bra, Wrong Day... with all the extra action I got that day, I am sure that I burned at least a 100 calories. From now on, I'll be bringing my Iron Maiden Form Bra.
Before I sign off, I must give you progress report: I have lost 7 pounds, and am now able to zip up my skinny jeans without laying down and using a coat hanger. I'm coming for you Little Black Dress...
Thursday, January 8, 2009
My Little Black Dress
It all started with a Little Black Dress. What possessed me to buy it, I'll never know. It just looked so...SEXY!!! Trouble is, the highest size this cute little number comes in is a size 14(regular size, not plus). 14??? I havn't seen size 14 since I was dating my husband 20 years ago.
But still the dress wooed me, calling out with her coy little voice, "You can be a size 14 again, really! If you buy me, your life will change. You will attract admirer's from around the world who will marvel at your stunning beauty. Buy me. Bye me now! (I also though I heard a laugh that sounded something like this: BWAHAHAHAHA, but that's just silly, dresses can't laugh.)
Anyway, I bought this little black dress, for a pretty penny I might add and now she hangs in my closet, mocking me, rolling her eyes every time I swing open the door. None of my other clothes are willing to hang around with her (yes, her... it's a woman's dress, after all.) They all migrate over to the dark side of the closet and cower in her mighty presence.
So, here's the deal... I've got to lose weight! I figure that there are 2 things that will motivate me to do that. First of all, I'm not going to let some sexy little black dress intimidate me! I am strong, confident, and most of all, I can't live with myself for spending that kind of coin unless I can wear the damn thing. And that brings me to my 2nd point: I will make better use of a really expensive gym membership/training package than a Curves membership that costs a paltry $35.00 a month. Ahh guilt... the great motivator! So I've signed up for a $250.00 per month gym/personal trainer membership, and I'm fixing to lose 60 pounds!
Will our heroine (that's me) overcome the tyranny of the little black dress? (Heretofore known as LBD.) Can she overcome her midnight cookie cravings? Can she work her ass off (literally)? Stay tuned!
But still the dress wooed me, calling out with her coy little voice, "You can be a size 14 again, really! If you buy me, your life will change. You will attract admirer's from around the world who will marvel at your stunning beauty. Buy me. Bye me now! (I also though I heard a laugh that sounded something like this: BWAHAHAHAHA, but that's just silly, dresses can't laugh.)
Anyway, I bought this little black dress, for a pretty penny I might add and now she hangs in my closet, mocking me, rolling her eyes every time I swing open the door. None of my other clothes are willing to hang around with her (yes, her... it's a woman's dress, after all.) They all migrate over to the dark side of the closet and cower in her mighty presence.
So, here's the deal... I've got to lose weight! I figure that there are 2 things that will motivate me to do that. First of all, I'm not going to let some sexy little black dress intimidate me! I am strong, confident, and most of all, I can't live with myself for spending that kind of coin unless I can wear the damn thing. And that brings me to my 2nd point: I will make better use of a really expensive gym membership/training package than a Curves membership that costs a paltry $35.00 a month. Ahh guilt... the great motivator! So I've signed up for a $250.00 per month gym/personal trainer membership, and I'm fixing to lose 60 pounds!
Will our heroine (that's me) overcome the tyranny of the little black dress? (Heretofore known as LBD.) Can she overcome her midnight cookie cravings? Can she work her ass off (literally)? Stay tuned!
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