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!!!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
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.
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