Sarah Gone Wild

I was watching the news this morning (always a mistake, but I have to know what weather to dress for and those sneaky rat bastards are constantly drizzling weather nuggets throughout the whole damn show so you have to watch at least 3 segments before you really know what’s 50% likely to happen outside today…and doesn’t “weather nuggets” sound like it’s gonna rain poo?? That’d be disgusting but funny from inside…).

Anyway, I caught a preview of the story they were doing on Boobquake. If you’re not familiar, read the Facebook page. I happen to find it hilarious that a religious nutball thinks immodest dress causes earthquakes (and it pisses me off that he also believes a woman’s form of dress essentially validates rape and adultery as it causes men to “go astray,” which in turn causes earthquakes). But what really made me laugh till I farted (I like to think my ass was laughing, too) was a video clip of a protest where a man was holding a sign that read, “GOD HATES BOOBS!” Even funnier? The “oo” was blurred out. Really? We feel the need to censor to WORD boob? Wowza.

God hates boobs, eh? I’ll play your game for a second, you self-righteous bigot. Let’s say I absolutely believe in God. God created everything. God wants humans to procreate and thus created humans to do so. Okay, if that’s true, then obviously God created boobs. They feed the children born through the process God created. So how, pray tell, does it even make an inkling of sense in your warped misogynistic brain that God hates boobs when HE created them for HIS OWN purposes?

This is just another prime example of why religion really gets my goat. People use it to further their own personal agendas, when it’s convenient anyway. In claiming to be religious, he’s creating his own black hole of hypocrisy by stating that God hates a piece of the very anatomy he created. Perhaps he meant that God hates women who don’t keep their boobs to themselves…I could see the justification in his small little brain for that. Even then I don’t agree, but that’s at least a religiously valid argument.

So the moral of this lesson is: Don’t watch the news. Ever. It’s just gonna piss you off and make your ass laugh.

Happy Tuesday, my boobylicious friends.

I miss volleyball. I really hope to get to play this summer. In the meantime, I am a sub for our work softball team…and by “sub” I mean the best benchwarmer ever unless you have to forfeit if I don’t go on the field.

I used to play a little softball when I was a kid, but I mostly stood in the outfield, did cartwheels and made dandelion chains. For sure I wasn’t the star player. I eventually quit (I think Mom got tired of watching me do nothing).

I played for a company team when I was a summer intern a few years ago. I didn’t have a problem playing then. I was actually pretty good with the bat – I seem to have an innate urge to hit things.

But now…the idea of going out in the field or standing at the plate, waiting for balls to come flying my way, just doesn’t seem like a good plan. Volleyballs are big and don’t hurt all that much when they hit you (unless Gaby Reese is hitting them at you). Softballs, however, are smaller, heavier and much more threatening. And I can’t catch. Or really throw. And I don’t know if I could hit…so really, I’m a big sissy.

I want to play. I love that our company has a bowling team and a softball team (and hopefully a volleyball team!). It’s nice to be a part of a group that actually likes each other. It’s still a little foreign to me. We literally have team players. Amazing. But I’m still not ready for neon yellow balls to be chucked at me. Check again later.

I’m selective about balls, what can I say?

Yesterday was the 2nd anniversary of living without Grandma V. I’ve been avoiding thinking of her much lately because it still hurts so much. Or if we talk about her, I pretend like she’s not gone. But when we go visit her grave, I can’t pretend. I miss her so much, and I know my mom and family miss her like crazy, too. It’s not easy. I take solace in remembering the good times, but for some reason, right now I’m haunted by the bad ones.

I remember every second of the night she passed. I remember all the times I got mad at her. I remember the time I accidentally shut the car door on her hand and it really hurt her. I remember all the times we rushed out of the nursing home because we had other things to do. None of those “other things” were nearly as important as spending every second possible with her that we could…but I didn’t realize it then. I should have. But I didn’t, and now it’s too late. I’m so sorry for that. I can’t undo any of it, but at the moment, I can’t let it go, either.

I took her yellow roses and my mom took her a salmon-colored gardenia. These were two of her favorite flowers. I also took a bouquet to Grandma D – hers had a sunflower in it, and I remember vividly the amazing sunflowers she once had. They towered over six feet tall and looked like a bunch of suns glowing over the rest of her garden. Seeing my anniversary date staring back at me from her grave marker makes me feel guilty. I know she was upset with how I handled a few things regarding the wedding and my biodad, and although I had valid reasons for wanting what I did, I can’t help but think she died with her feelings hurt. I’m so sorry for that, too.

It’s so weird. Why am I feeling so many negative things right now? I loved them both and they loved me, but I can’t help but wonder if I showed them enough how much I cared. I don’t want to lose another person and wonder if they knew. So if I’m a little sappy with you over the next few days or weeks, just know it’s because I love you and you’re important to me. I need my family and friends to know that.

Grandma, I love you more than you could ever know and I miss you more than I ever thought possible. I think about you every day, even when it’s to tell myself I can’t think about you today because it hurts. It will always hurt, but I’m okay with that because it means I was lucky enough to have someone as wonderful as you in my life. I wish I still had you, but please know that I carry you in my heart everywhere I go.

I’ll always be your munchkin.

XO,
Sarah

Granted, Calvin Klein owes more apologies for this than I do, but whatever.

Yes, this is another post about working out. And weight loss. And frustration. And dumbbells. Choose your own adventure…would you like to hear more? Keep reading! Tired of the subject? Go away! (I say that with love.)

This is my third week of ChaLEAN Extreme. I love it, but I’m getting really upset at the lack of weight loss I’ve had. I don’t follow the recommended diet because I dislike most of the ingredients used and, with my schedule, I rely on a lot of pre-packaged foods. Don’t tell me to stop eating processed foods – I know I should, but I don’t cook much and if I’m going to stick to any sort of healthy eating regime, it has to work with my schedule and habits. I have read the guide, though, so I try to stay in the general vicinity of what to eat.

I have been eating a bazillion more servings of fruit and veggies than I have in recent history, and when T wants to eat out, I fend for myself and eat at home. If I do eat out, it’s at Subway or Applebees, where I order a WW menu item. I burn a lot more calories now, with the new workouts and the constant use of stairs at work, so I try to account for that without going overboard. If I splurge, it’s rare and it’s generally after one of my long walks. I don’t drink heavily and if I do have a drink or two, it’s not more than once a week. And I’ve cut way down on the amount of diet soda I drink. AND I quit coffee. So two sources of artificial sweeteners have been reduced/eliminated. That’s progress.

On top of sacrificing most things that are delicious, I also have no life on account of my new workout schedule and walk training. Seriously – this is what my weeks are like now:

• Monday – 40 minute strength workout – all of these require lifting heavy and reaching total muscle failure by the 10-12 rep and integrate upper and lower body into each move

• Tuesday – a different 40 minute strength workout, sometimes a 20 minute cardio workout

• Wednesday – rest

• Thursday – 50 minute intense cardio/muscled endurance workout, 10 minute ab workout

• Friday – yet another 40 minute strength workout (these are all so hard, but this one is the worst)

• Saturday – 35 minute super intense cardio workout, 20 minute yoga workout

• Sunday – rest, but every other week is a long walk/run for the 50-mile walk training (this week was 14 miles in the windy rain on a mostly unpaved path with 6 killer hills, and I ran at least a mile of it)

I don’t mind the schedule, especially if I’m getting amazing results, but I’m not. I mean, I can see small improvements all over my body and I know I’m building muscle, but when the scale isn’t moving much, I get frustrated. And when I get frustrated, I am more likely to give up.

I understand that some fat is being replaced by muscle (and no, muscle does not weigh more than fat – a pound is a pound) and that during intense strength training, your muscles retain a bit more water than usual as they repair themselves…but after 2.5 weeks AND with being on a prescription diuretic, I would have thought a real loss would have shown up by now. It hasn’t and I can’t get over it. I’m mad! I have NEVER pushed myself this way before. Maybe my body needs a little more time to adjust, but if that’s the case, I wish it’d hurry up already.

Also good to note – my doctor ran blood work a few weeks ago and they came back great. All my mineral/vitamin counts are good, my good cholesterol is well above the minimum, my bad is much lower than the maximum and my triglycerides are good. And my blood pressure is back to a normal level. So things are good in that aspect, but the scale there showed an 11 pound gain over my last visit 2.5 months ago. Come on, now. That’s ridiculous. Grrrr.

Also ridiculous – I tested my scale this morning. I woke up, actually pooped (woohoo!), weighed (165) and proceeded to straighten my hair, brush my teeth and put my makeup on – still naked. I weighed again on my way to get dressed and I was up to 165.6. Really? I didn’t eat or drink a thing and I sure did NOT put on that much makeup. WTF??? Stupid.

So obviously, I need to re-examine my diet and tell the scale to suck it.

In other news…in an attempt NOT to go broke, I bought a set of Reebok Speed Pac 25 adjustable dumbbells. In my excitement, I assumed “Speed Pac 25″ meant that each hand weight maxed at 25 pounds. Nope, each maxes at 12.5 for a total weight of 25 for the set. So that’s no good and they are going back to the store. I need higher weights than that. And holding a 10-lb weight and a 3- or 5-lb weight together in one hand just isn’t working. My poor hands can’t take it.

So I’m looking into a more expensive but more versatile set – like the Bowflex SelectTechs and the PowerBlock. If anyone has insights on either, I’d love to hear them. I’ve heard some negatives on the SelectTechs, but nothing on the PowerBlock. I have to buy something before the next phase starts in a week and a half – preferably sooner since I’m finding it hard to reach failure with the weights I have now. I’m impressed with how strong I’ve gotten already, so maybe I should just focus on that and not worry so much about the scale. My size 10 jeans fit comfortably, so I guess I shouldn’t complain…

Anyway. That’s all I got right now. I’m going to enjoy my rest day and pretend tomorrow’s hell workout isn’t lurking around the corner…

I know I’m pretty lazy about a lot of things by normal people’s standards. But one thing I just cannot keep up with is my manicure. Which is why I usually have fake nails if I am in the mood to give a crap about that. However, I decided to paint my nails last week for some godforsaken reason, and now I have a chipping mess on my hands. Ha, literally.

I’ll end up scraping the polish off during a meeting, or just taking it off. I won’t bother to reapply. And really, with my glorious sausage fingers, painting my nails is truly the equivalent of putting lipstick on a pig.

But I get an A for effort.

Maybe my next post should be “why I don’t clean my house” and then I’ll feel inclined to give it a whirl.

But probably not. You know, that whole lazy thing. If I’m going to stick to a workout plan, I don’t have the energy for piddly things like cleaning the house. I’m a one-trick pony, people.

Speaking of the workout thing. Holy mother of unicorn loving kumquats. If Chalene weren’t so damn nice, I’d hate her like I hate Jillian Michaels. But even though her workouts are so much worse than JM’s, I just can’t hate her. She’s so sweet about kicking my ass. She’s so ENCOURAGING. I’m the queen of negative self-talk, and she really helps to combat that. But these workouts are the hardest I’ve ever done. Ever. Worse than Level 3 of the Shred. Worse than Burn Fat Boost Metabolism. Worse than anything I’ve encountered.

But worse in such a great way. She kicks my ass and I grunt and groan, but at the end of each workout, I’m proud of myself for doing it. For getting through it. For literally not dying. But…I’m also not confident about my plan to follow this up with P90X. We’ll see, but this series might be my physical max. I am not exaggerating when I say this shit is T-O-U-G-H. I may have shed a tear or two during the big cardio circuit.

In other news, life is good. The new job is amazing and not so new anymore. I’m kind of in my groove now. I have a little bit more confidence in my skillz, but it’s still so intimidating to be surrounded by such genuine, mind-blowing talent. I’m a lucky, lucky girl.

And, of course, everyone ADORES Mr. Tedders. He’s so chill, and he loves coming in with me. He doesn’t so much love climbing the stairs to my attic desk, but he loves the attention! He hasn’t been in for a couple weeks because he needs a bath and trim, but I just haven’t had time to get him in. I bought some nail trimmers, so if I can manage to get through his nails myself, he’ll be joining me tomorrow…but I usually let the groomers do that since he hates it so much and acts like I’m trying to hurt him. I’ll probably cry. I’m a wuss.

Walk training is going well, too. A HUGE thanks to all of you who helped me raise so much money. Between you and the benefit my team threw, we have surpassed our goal and raised over $6,000 for the MS Society so far. Amazing. I’m really touched by the level of generosity that I’ve seen recently. Just when I give up on humankind, something like this happens and my faith is renewed. Okay, maybe not 100%, but some.

I’m really trying to hydrate for these workouts, so I have to pee like Austin Powers right now. Here’s this.

I interrupt my regularly scheduled blogging with a message from the Emergency Bitching System. This is only a test. In the event of an actual emergency, I wouldn’t be posting because my head would have already exploded.

What brought on this emergency rant? A couple of Perez postings, which I will be quoting in the following bitchfest. A summary of the first for the click-shy: The National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance (NAAFA) released a statement that Precious star Gabourey Sidibe doesn’t need to lose weight because SHE IS HEALTHY AS SHE IS NOW.

First of all, WTF? The NAAFA, REALLY? The NAAFA is a real entity? Why? We do NOT need to encourage people to be fat. I understand wanting to lessen the discrimination against heavy people (I know how it feels all to well to be judged based on appearance alone), but it’s not necessary to advance FAT acceptance. Advance the acceptance of diversity, of nontraditional beauty…it’s the word fat that just doesn’t fly.

Second, how the fuck do these people with NAAFA know she’s healthy? They don’t, and from what I read, they don’t even claim to. Here’s the quote from the organization’s rep:

You cannot tell by looking at a person if they [sic] are healthy. Fat does not equal disease and thin does not equal healthy…Achievements come in all sizes.

Without the full quote, it seems like the fools at Perez are stretching a bit as the quote doesn’t say directly that GS is healthy. So that inaccuracy makes me mad (thus the all caps above). By the same token, I expect nothing more from a crap site like that (to which I am sadly addicted).

And beyond that, I do agree with every sentence of that statement. However, the thing that makes me mad is the continued focus on the idea of fat. There’s fat fat and skinny fat, neither of which are healthy. Being what is considered overweight can absolutely be healthy if the person eats decently and works out regularly. However, being at Gabourey’s size just absolutely CANNOT be healthy. She is a beautiful girl and should absolutely embrace having a full figure – once her weight puts her out of risk for heart disease, diabetes, stroke, etc.

Now the second post. Summary – there’s a video link to a news story on a woman who is BEING PAID to get fat. The kicker? She’s already 550 pounds and wants to DOUBLE that weight. She is on some sort of fat woman porn site, and her “fans” are sending her food and paying her to heft up even more. She has a 3 year old that she can barely keep up with already (and that kid is going to be harassed to no end when she enters the public school system), and she says she “doesn’t buy into” all the research and facts about the diseases associated with obesity. Really? You don’t believe in the scientific studies, and statistics on how many people die each year just from being FAT? Let me know how your daughter feels about that after you leave her with no mother.

I think the whole obesity trend has gotten out of hand. Not just the number of obese people – that’s been ridiculous for a long time. No, the trend of embracing being unhealthily overweight. Granted, to each his or her own. It’s definitely your own prerogative if you want to be heavy and at risk of death. And I understand the struggle to find the motivation to start losing the weight once things have gotten out of hand. Hello, I weighed over 200 pounds for months and have struggled with weight my whole life. I get it.

But never once did I think it was healthy to eat junk food and sit on my ass. I finally came to the realization that it wasn’t fair to me or my loved ones to unnecessarily put my life at risk. I deserved a chance at having a happy, healthy life. By the same notion, however, I also believe in ENJOYING that life. So if I want pizza, I have pizza. If I want a greasy burger, I have a greasy burger. If I need a week off from working out, I take it. There’s balance in everything, and simply saying, “I’m fat and that’s okay with me, so everyone else should agree” is just bullshit.

I’ll always have big thighs and broad shoulders. My knees will always be ugly. I’ll never be at 8% body fat. But I will make a conscious effort to live as healthy a life as I can. And THAT’S what we should be promoting. The acceptance of a new standard of beauty, not a fat one. Too thin is unhealthy, so that shouldn’t be our standard. Too heavy is unhealthy, so THAT shouldn’t be the standard. Look at Beyonce. She’s in great shape and doesn’t try to be stick thin. Her curves are just that – CURVES. Not unhealthy fat, but natural, beautiful, womanly curves. In my opinion, she could set the new standard of beauty.

I honestly think that my own journey and continued struggle with my weight is what fuels this anger. I am working so damn hard to be healthy, while others prefer not to do the work. And then they call those like me who think they are lazy discriminatory. Nope, been there, done that. I was fat, and when I was, I was lazy. Depressed, yes. But I got help for that. Dealing with a lot, yes. But wake up – that’s called life.

This completes the test of the Emergency Bitching System. I now return my regularly scheduled blogging.

I have a feeling I’m going to dread hearing that soon…but for now, bring it on.

Last week, I finally caved and ordered the ChaLEAN Extreme fitness program from Beachbody. I’ve been wanting it for a while now, especially after reading this article that compares CE to P90X, another program I’ve been considering.

What made me choose CE over P90X? Several things, actually. First of all, I’m intimidated by P90X and not sure how I’ll do with it. I can handle Jillian Michaels DVDs, although with a bit of huffing and puffing, but I don’t know if that’s really a gauge for my overall fitness level. And not that intimidation should stop me – I love a good challenge – but I haven’t done workouts with this trainer before, while I’m very familiar and comfortable with Chalene’s style.

Second, I really have no where to put a pull-up bar and I have no doorway with which to use the resistance bands for the alternative exercise, and I hear this is a key part of the program (i.e., I can’t just skip those parts). I already have most of what I need to do CE (except now I want the SelectTech dumbbells they use, and I still need some more hand weights).

Third, CE will provide an intense workout in less time. P90X workouts range from 60-90 minutes, while the longest CE routine runs 45 minutes. Not having time is always an excuse for me, so I wanted to do everything I could to offset that from the get-go.

Sunday, I took a couple of before pics (not sure if I’m brave enough to post – even after losing 50+ pounds, I’m still not looking great), took my measurements and body fat and watched the intro DVD. Yesterday, I officially kicked off the program.

I definitely need more weights – I’m stronger than I thought in some areas and the point is to work your muscles to the point of failure. The deliberate, slow technique is amazing – I can feel every second of work I’m putting in and can tell that I’ll get results. The parts that kill, though, are when Chalene says, “It’s time to get extreme.” After a 10-second pause, you do 3 more reps AFTER your muscles have reached failure. INTENSE.

I love the phasing technique of CE and P90X, and my intent is to complete CE and be totally ready to begin P90X. Guess we’ll see where that goes!

I have other stuff to say, but I’ll make a new post for that…in the meantime, here’s my current instant-smile obsession:

First, because I will be discussing a topic that is sensitive to most, here’s an important message from the first post I ever wrote:

If you’re offended by things I say, don’t read my blog.

You can keep your snarky comments. I don’t expect people to agree with me or my opinions and I hate it when people don’t understand that overall concept. Everything written here is my opinion. Dictionary.com defines “opinion” as:

1.	a belief or judgment that rests on grounds insufficient to produce complete certainty.

2.	a personal view, attitude, or appraisal.

Now that that’s cleared up…let me clear up one more thing. I was raised Catholic. Baptized in 4th grade, anyway. Took all the classes, went to PSR and weekly mass. Had to give something up every year for Lent. My confirmation name is Collette. Been there, done that, got pissed at being forced to do that and eventually quit. Haven’t gone back since.

Overall, my feelings on religion have less to do with beliefs as they do with hypocrisy. I don’t honestly know where I stand on the subject of believing in a higher power. I believe in science, and until science and religion can somehow coexist in a logical manner, I just can’t buy into it fully. I don’t buy that, if I live my life like a good person, but swear, have sex for fun, take birth control, drink, dance, believe in equal rights for women, don’t attend church and enjoy R-rated movies, that I’m going to be punished for it when I die. [Note: I'm drawing on multiple religions and denominations, not just Catholicism.]

I think everyone should live by the Golden Rule and we’ll all be just fine. And honestly, that’s the ROOT of most religions…but churches seem to be so much more interested in political agendas and business and money and being the biggest congregation in the state or whatever else they want that they’ve lost sight of the Golden Rule entirely. And the judging. Oh, I can’t stand the judging. I’m not one to quote the Bible, but I’m pretty sure it says something about letting he who is without sin cast the first stone. (Don’t get me started on the sexism.)

I also CANNOT STAND when people preach at me. If I want to learn about religion, I’ll study it academically and seek out the answers I want. I don’t need someone showing up on my doorstep or telling me over dinner what I need to do to keep myself from eternal damnation. No one can REALLY agree on that anyway, so just can it. I don’t need your brochures and I didn’t ask for your prayers for my soul.

So back to the hypocrisy and the root of my rant. It’s Lent season. Which really means little to me other than Mickey D’s is bringing back the Filet O’ Fish song (I really hope they develop that textable video from the new spot). But it really brings to focus how much fucking hypocrisy there is in this world. Don’t you dare go all Nazi-religious for the next few weeks and then return to your cussing, “sin”-filled life as soon as Zombie Jesus Day is over. That makes me sick.

This really applies every day, but this season really brings it to light for me. It’s cool if you use Lent as a reason to try to break a bad habit. I’ve done that. Failed miserably, but I gave it the good old college try. But I admitted that’s what I was doing. I never pretended that I was doing it because I was a good Catholic. It’s cool if you really believe in the reason for it and give something up as part of your belief system. I feel very strongly that, just as I’m allowed to have my opinions and beliefs, everyone else is allowed to have theirs.

But what I absolutely, positively cannot tolerate is phony holier-than-thou bullshit from people who are only holy on Sundays or during key religious seasons. What the fuck does it matter if you go to church every single Sunday if you embezzle millions of dollars from your company during the week? Or cheat on your spouse? Or worse, just use church as a status symbol to further your personal agenda? Or just don’t really believe in the teachings unless it’s convenient for you? Barf. Get over yourself.

Not everyone is perfect in their lives and aren’t really expected to be in most religions, from what I understand. And that’s not what makes me mad. Mostly because those aren’t the people who throw religion around like they’re some kind of saint or something.

I just can’t stand the deceit that seems to have permeated so much of our culture today. I don’t wish anybody harm, I genuinely want to be a useful part of society and I really do care about the people around me. If that means some unseen force is going to punish me when I die, then I guess that’s just too bad. I just hope there’s a Filet O’ Fish waiting to welcome me to hell.

…and shouldn’t you help the mentally unstable? I vote yes!

Last week, I joined my friend Wally in her quest to raise money and awareness for MS and MS research. Both she and another wonderful friend of mine, Toofs, have MS and deal with it on a daily basis. The quest? Raise $1,000 by May 20th and then walk 50 miles over the span of 3 days.

Did you figure out the crazy part?

Yep, 50 miles. I don’t know why, but it never even occurred to me that the walk part would be difficult…until the other day. Now, I’m a bit nervous. I trained for a marathon for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society a few years ago, but didn’t meet my fundraising minimum and stopped training at 22 miles. And let me tell you, those 22 miles HURT. Granted, I was running and walking, and this time I’ll just be walking, but that still requires feet and movement and blisters.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m really, really excited to be doing this for Wally and Toofs, and everyone else who struggles with MS every single day. And I’m excited to challenge myself physically…I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while but didn’t have the right motivation. Now, I’ve got it and I’m determined to do this. And for that, I think maybe I’ve lost my mind.

So here’s the scoop. The more money we raise, the closer we get to a cure. That’s where you guys come in…some of you have received an email from me, but if you didn’t and are interested in chipping in even $5, I would be so appreciative. Just visit my personal page and you can make your tax-deductible donation. If you’re a lurker and don’t want me to know who you are, you can make your donation anonymously.

I’ve already raised $225 thanks to the generosity of super awesome people (like you). But this isn’t just about raising money. I need tips, people. Advice on how not to die on day two, when my legs have figured out what 20 miles feels like. I know a lot about clothing and all that from my prior training, but I’ve never attempted a distance like this and definitely not a journey over multiple days. Given that I’ll be staying at the community college at night, ice baths probably aren’t an option. As much as those suck, they’re a major muscle saver.

Bottom line, I’m really excited but really nervous to do this. I have less than 4 months to get ready (the walk is in June), but I can totally do this…right? Maybe I should plan on taking the following Monday off work as well in case I can’t walk much after day three.

Thanks in advance for being so awesome! I wish there were cures for everything bad in the world, but maybe we can knock these out one marathon at a time…here’s looking forward to the finish line!