Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Laws of Motion

Sir Issac Newton seems like he was a pretty smart guy. While most of his ‘laws’ of motion have since been proven essentially false, this shit seems spot on to me. I don’t care what people say, Newton clearly knew what it was like to be a fat chick. And considering that he was peddling these wares back in the 1700s, I think he should be credited with the founding of The Diet. You think he wasn’t referring to big girls and their love of num nums/ aversion to exercise? I beg to differ, friend.

1. Every body will remain at rest or in a uniform state of motion unless acted upon by a force. I don’t know about every body, but this body (especially the hind quarters) certainly remains at rest unless acted upon by an outside force. That force is usually my mind, telling me to lift said ass off the couch and haul it to the very expensive gym, throw it on the treadmill and tough it out for a few hideous sweaty minutes. Oh, and sometimes, it’s Lisa. She basically says the same thing.

I started thinking about this lately in terms of diet/exercise/weight loss. About momentum. About how when I am doing nothing, it is so hard to do something. So hard to do anything. And that conversely, when I am doing the right things, it is that much easier to keep doing them. Keeping momentum is easy enough. Gaining momentum is hard as hell. Thus, I sit here, waxing philosophical about Ike Newton, while tasty mini quiches bake up in the oven, instead of aerobicizing on my living room floor, or better yet, sleeping so I might actually make the gym tomorrow. You with me so far?

2. When a force acts upon a body, it imparts an acceleration proportional to the force and inversely proportional to the mass of the body and in the direction of the force. So a little nudge on my not so little frame doesn’t get the job done. I need motivation on a massive scale. I need doctors predicting doom, or new weights reached that I have yet to see, or fat pants popping a button. The acceleration is proportional to the force. It occurs to me that I may not have been forceful enough to actually generate motion in this mass of a body. Fuck it all, my stepfather was right. Man was always telling me you can’t half ass everything.
I had all this motivation a month ago. SBD, guns blazing, on a Wednesday, with my Aunt Flo in town, without a plan, without a net, without an ounce of doubt. Who the hell was that chick? And where is she? She stuck around for a few weeks. I took her ass on vacation. She was there with me in the Quickie Mart when I opted to by no bags of Chocolate Peanut Butter covered Bugles. But by the time we got to the house, she was nowhere in sight. And she hasn’t shown her face again since. Bitch.

3. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This might be the most true…or the most false. I agree that Ike knew his shit that every action has a reaction. But it is always an opposite reaction? Not so much. I mean, if I take action and go to the gym, or put down a Twinkie (yes, I realize neither of these has happened lately, so perhaps time clouds my view) then there is a reaction. Such as I am sweaty (gym) or sad (Twinkie). Unless he meant that my moving OFF the couch, I am then NOT ON it! Ah – ha! And if I move the Twinkie away from my lips *sniffle* then it does not go in my mouth. I see. Well played, Sir.
So, if that is true, than in doing something, I am not doing nothing. So maybe I should just do something. Which is the opposite of now, when I am doing nothing. And in not doing nothing, I will have done something. Well, isn’t that something? Or is it nothing? My mindgasms are dizzying, no?
So, in anticipation of writing this blog that has been all kinds of about in my head for days, I knew someone would inevitably want to know what I was in fact going to do, or if I was all talk and was going to continue to do nothing, I did something. Or somethings.
Crap-cleanse. No, not the Master Cleanse, you can keep your spicy lemonade and I will keep the years of colonic build up, kthanksbye. I cleanse the house of the crap. Blondies, Whipped Feta Dip and Fresh Tortilla Chips, Apple Crisp Sundae Bowl, all brought over to my mom and sister. I grew up poor; you never throw out food, even if it means you have to make someone else fat and unhealthy in the process. And once I eat the aforementioned quiches, and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Magic Brownies, the house will be exorcized of the demonic food that possesses me. I suppose I could have brought those to my mom too, but even serial killers get a final meal, right?
Gym Plan: Like go. That is sort of the plan. I pay over $100 a month to have the luxurious gym at my disposal, so if I am not going to drag my self to water aerobics (fat chick exercise Mecca), then I have to give it up. And since it has 5 pools, a sauna, a steam room and a hot tub, there is no way in hell I am canceling my membership. I am going to indulge in something, damn it.
New job: Requires lots of face to face client contact. I need an ass smaller than this, if for no other reason than to fit into my nice work clothes that I will now need to wear regularly. And since said new job comes with a fat raise, I am thinking it is time to let someone who knows what they are doing (i.e. not me) color my hair. I am motivated by material crap. What can I say, I am a shallow girl?

So, tomorrow, she is a Wednesday. And Auntie Flo is back in town. What do you think my chances are that ass kicking chick is going to show up and throw some proportional force my way? Me and Ike, we think they are looking pretty damn good.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

When one is feeling particularly failur-esque

it is probablly best not to go back and read the blogs the one wrote at the beginning of the year about how they were going to change it all. Fuck.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Years ago a good friend of mine was a Philosophy major in college. I remember her telling me about her final exam for a class was to come into the room and write an essay and the subject was on the board. When she came into the room, there was a single word on the board. Why? I remember her telling me how people toiled over their papers for hours and how they struggled and how they went to painstaking lengths to philosophise their way into an A on the subject of Why. If memory serves, my friend got a B, and was not entirely pleased about it because a couple of guys blew the curve. One of the guys got an A-. He wrote a single word. Because. The guy that got an A wrote two words. If they aren't obvious already, we will get there.

At my first WW meeting this time around, my leader asked us to think of Why we came that night and write it down. The idea being, in three to four weeks, when you have forgotten why you came, you can look at it an remind yourself.

I was stumped. Why did I come there? Well, because it's January, and New Years, and WW is like an annual tradition akin to Pumpkin Pie on Thanksgiving and Eggnog on Christmas, and Chinese food on New Years Eve and all of those are part of the reason it is an annual tradition, etc etc. But that is not the real reason why.

Because I am fat. Pardon the expression, but let's call a spade a spade. Because my medical records say 'Morbidly Obese young woman.' Because I am almost the heaviest I have ever been, and that includes times when I was 9 months pregnant. Because I want to look better - be healthier- fit into cute clothes. Blah, blah, blah. Not it.

Because of the children and husband that I love, and don't want to leave, and want to be able to play with. Still not it.

For me? To do the right thing for myself and take care of my body because it is the only one I get and I currently treat it like a toxic waste dumping ground. Nope.

This was not boding well for my triumphant return to WW. If I couldn't even figure out the basics of why I was there, how was I going to be successful? If I couldn't write something down, then what would I look to for inspiration in a few weeks when I was losing motivation. Losing it? I didn't have any!

I have stumbled blindly through my first two weeks of WW, going through some of the motions and ignoring others. This was my newest excuse. I couldn't figure out why I was going, so why bother. And a few days ago the memory of my friend and her philosophy class came to me. And that is when it hit me. It wasn't one of the aforementioned reasons that I showed up. It was all of them, tied up into a neat little package labeled 'Because.'

Because that is what you do at New Years. New year, new you, better you. New resolve, new food, new willpower. Because, because, because. But that is an A- effort at best.

The key isn't all the reasons I should do this. They are there, they have been there for years. No new ones even come to mind. The key is that I can't think of a single, valid reason not to do this. Being fat is so enjoyable? No. I didn't really want to be around to see my kids grow up? Nope. I feel so healthy and attractive at this weight, why change. Sorry, still no. NOT ONE REASON NOT TO!

So today, I wrote on a slip of paper, and slid it into my little WW folder. I will look at it when I can't remember 'why' I am doing this. I will use it as a source of remembrance and inspiration. I will use it to bring myself back to center, and to focus. It has only two words on it.

Why not?

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

I did not fall off the wagon or get mauled by a bear

Blog in progress. I swear.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Consistency is key here

And I am nothing if not consistent. I consistently have no follow through, and rarely finish what I start. Starting with the blog. Daily is going to be a stretch for me, but I am going to 'attempt' every other day or so, life permitting.

The 'lifestyle change' is not really in full effect yet, so I am still loading up on crap. Bob Harper would say "Start this very instant." Bob has clearly never been a fat chick with her monthly guest on the brink of joining WW for the umpteenth time. Kiss my ass, Bob!

The budget is in the formation stages. Formed mainly inside my head and rarely applied on paper. I did balance my checkbook yesterday, which can I just say I loathe with the white hot fire of a volcanic eruption, and it looks pretty good. Of course one of our kittens, only having been here a week, has a sore foot, and will undoubtedly need some sort of limb transplant. Lucky for her, she is adorable and I am already madly in love with her.

Organization. Funny story. My mother in law bought me a Mom's Family Calendar for Christmas. It is all about getting you organized. Nothing says you are a sucky mother and wife like a lets get you organized calendar, but that is another blog for a much more bloated and bitchy day. The thing is, I need it, and I actually like the calendar. So there is this planner that goes along with it. I decided it would be good. I looked it up on Amazon, decided I could find it locally, and didn't order it. Then I drove to the mall last night to find it was closed (which an organized person would have checked on first) then drove to another bookstore that was open but didn't carry it. So now it is 10:15 at night and I can't stop laughing at the fact that I am driving around on a freezing ass Friday night searching for an organizer. Proof positive that no one needs this thing more than I do. Will place Amazon order later....not sure what time :)

Sex Life: No headway. See aforementioned note about monthly guest. Mother Nature is a whore and I hate her.

Substance: I have not yet picked up a book, and I spend last night watching all the episodes of Ashley Paige: Bikini or Bust. I am so ashamed.

I actually added another resolution of sorts. Physical Appearance. Not plastic surgery or anything, but I just want to get back to be the sexy, glowy, such a pretty face girl, instead of the frumpadump I have been lately. My skin looks like hell, all my own doing by the way. What 34 year old woman moisturizes daily? Oh, wait, all of them, at least the ones that don't want to look 74. Plus, courtesy of diet and hormones and genetics and probablly global warming, I still break out regularly. So last night, I ordered Proactiv. I figure I will give it a month and see what's what. And I am considering lopping off some more hair. I took off 6 inches a couple months ago, but it wasn't really as short as I wanted it, so I am thinking let's go balls to the wall and shave the fucker.....maybe. We'll see. I have been known to back out of these things before.

And lastly, I am beginning a full on closet purge. I have some seriously "What Not to Wear" stuff going on, boxes and boxes of stuff that doesn't fit, etc. I am ridiculously attached to my clothes, not really sure why. Nothing a good therapist couldn't figure out, I'm sure. But I am going to try and let some of my babies go. Free to good homes if anyone is interested :)

That's all. In short, we are making progress, but cautiously. Wouldn't want to do things to fast, I am like the non injured kitten. Sudden movements make me cagey. That's why exercise is so hard....yeah, that's a good one.

P.S. A little TY shout out to Jen, for IMing me and gently reminding me to blog. She kinda rocks my freakin world. Muah!

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Resolved: We will prove that you can teach an old dog new tricks

Resolution time. A new year. A NEW year. I thought of just making one resolution, and seeing what I could do with it. Then I decided, screw that. Go big or stay home. If I complete all of them, I will be a god. If I do some of them, I will be a success. If I do none of them, I will still keep trying.

New Years Resolutions, 2009 Style (in categories, and sometimes, subcategories)

Weight: Lose Some. Enough to make a difference to my overall health. Lofty goal of 100 pounds by then end of 2009. Which should get me off BP meds, which would be really nice. To achieve this goal, substantial work will be involved. I will have to do some downright unspeakable things, namely diet and exercise (gasp). I will even have to keep doing them when I don't want to. Why is life so cruel? Subgoal: to kick Kelly's ass and make her fly my ass out to Portland so she can be my bitch.

Money: Save some. Have to get better at this budgeting thing, especially now that I am a homeowner. Which means I need to cut back on the frivolous spending. This should help me to pay for Kelly's ticket to Boston in the event she trounces my ass.

Substance: Less reality TV. In fact less TV in general. More reading and writing. No rithmatic, thankyouverymuch. 52 books this year. Yup, one a week. Thanks, Jen. And blogging. It cleanses me, makes me more able to function when I spew the venom about whatever is pissing me off, and makes me more grateful for whatever is making me happy, when I share these things with the 'world'.

Organization: We moved this year, so my shit is in chaos. My garage is like a war zone in Fallujah. And before I can organize that shit and move it to is spot in the house, I have to organize the shit that actually made it through the doors. I need you, Nate Berkus!!! Clean Sweep my shit! I need some clear totes and a label maker, stat! When life is chaos, it makes me uneasy and when life is organized I have that inner peace that people meditate to get. Lists harness my Chi. What can I say, I have some issues.

Marital Bliss: In short, I need to give up the ass more often. Sorry to be crass about it, but there is no way to flower up that shit. I have, for far too long, let my weight and how I feel about my own body, put a damper on my marital duties. I am a lucky bitch. I have a ready, willing, able and eager husband, who after 13 years, two kids and 180 pounds, still wants to nail me.....regularly. I need to get over my 'whah whah, I don't look good naked' attitude and just have me some sex!

I think that ought to cover it.

A lot? Yup.

Overwhelming? Hellz yes.

Doable? Debatable.

Worth it? You can bet my skinny, savings account having, well read, organized, much handled ass it will be.

And in the beginning, there was Weight

And God said "Let there be weight loss." And then I was thin. And all was right with the world.

And then I woke up. And since I had done nothing to change my weight, nothing had changed. Apparently there would be no divine intervention. No miracle. No act of God. Then what? An act of Me, perhaps.

It is 12/31/08. The last day of the year. Tomorrow is the first day of 2009, the last year of this decade. By the end of it, I will be 35 years old. One husband, two kids, two cats, an office job, house in the burbs, white picket fence (no shit, I am serious). And according to my trusty Taylor Lithium Biggest Loser Edition Accurate to 400 Pounds Digital scale, I am at present 366 pounds. Fuck that. Not my heaviest. It means I have been able to keep off three pounds. Fuck that, I say.

Rewind 6 months or so and I was all inspired talk about how I was changing my life, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, so that death doesn't part me from the world. Guns blazing, I jumped head first into all of it: Weight Watchers, exercise, the boards, the mantras, all of it. I stayed strong for half of the summer and then I made vacation my excuse. The latest in a long list of excuses, I assure you. Babies, birthdays, holidays, shitty days, change of job, change of scene, change of clothes. Whatever was handy, that was my excuse. I "tried" to get back into it in the middle of September, while I was in mid home purchasing hell. It was not a valiant effort, nor was it a fruitful one. And then I just stopped. Stopped carrying my WW book around, stopped bringing my own lunch, ever. Stopped going to the website, stopped talking to my WW peeps. Stopped doing anything that might remind me of my own weakness and frailty and ultimate FAILURE.

I got an message last week from my girl, Kelly (aka Drill Sgt Shrink A Bootie). Coming back? Yup. It's that time of year after all. The time for resolutions, new beginnings, fresh starts. Time for starting over or just starting. Time heals all wounds, time after time, time's up. Time. Here it is. Make your decision. Move forward? Stand still? Stay on the fence for another year? Yes, Kelly. I am coming back.

A thought occurred to me. What if I really followed the program this time? Like, no bullshit, followed it. All the guidelines, not just the ones I like. Eat all the points. Do the exercise. Do the work. Like Nike says, Just Do It. But there is the ever present 'IF' factor. What 'IF' I try and fail. What 'IF' I can't do it. 'IF' only it were easier. You are right, Kelly. For this to work there is no IF. And yes, I know I can do it.

So while there is no divine intervention, what could be more divine that working hard and reaping the benefits. In the beginning, there was weight...................