Linus Says CRACK!

Have you ever thought something was a great idea and been truly psyched about doing it, only to think about it as the time approached......and totally panicked?

OMG....what was I thinking?  I can't DO that?  I hear my couch calling.....I'm cancelling.

That was me this week.  That is me right now.  That will be me until 8:31am tomorrow.

But here's the thing.  I'm not cancelling.  

And you can bet your bippy that I reeeeeeeeally wanna cancel!

But I'm not.

'Cuz it's not what's good for me.

This, my friend, is all very new to me.  As a person who has suffered with a panic/anxiety disorder for 25 years, when I feel social anxiety, my ass cancels.  

I don't know WHY I get social anxiety.  I like a whole lot of people.  I love my group of friends.  I have whittled it down to a small select group of people who make me feel loved and safe.  I have a tribe.  Yup.  These are people who I would be more than happy to live out the rest of my life with on a large piece of property and I know that I will always feel, again, safe and loved by them.

Let me get to the point and explain my cancel/non-cancel situation.

As I mentioned in my last blog entry, I've been working with Trish for almost a year now to learn how to eat and exercise and take care of myself like a normal person.  I'm getting pretty good at this!  I have an enormous pile of super bad habits that are 30+ years old to undo, so I knew this was not going to be a permanent change that happens in 2 months.  

I told Trish recently, "A year ago, I had no idea how to eat things that weren't full of carbs.  Like, adding a salad was me being healthy.  And we maybe cooked 2xs a week.  And if you had told me a year ago that I would be doing 2 workouts a week, I would've been like "ummmmm....I doubt it!"  

But here I am, using weights 2xs a week and cooking every day and doing some sort of enjoyable cardio 3xs a week.  It's just shocking.

Anyway, earlier this week, she came to me and said, "I'm offering a workout on Saturday morning at the park to people I've trained or people who might be interested.  Come over! I'll text you the information."

And you know what I said?  I said, "Definitely!  That sounds great!  Count me in!  I'll invite Rose & Lynn and we will all come together."

I was psyched! This was a great idea.  And I wanted to go.  I had just worked out the night before and it had felt awesome when I finished, so why wouldn't I go???

Then I walked into my house.

Shit.

And then the text came in.  All of the details in a lovely text with excitement and happy emojis and completely reflective of how I felt when I was getting the invitation.  

I couldn't do this!  I couldn't go workout with a bunch of people I didn't know who were probably in great shape and knew how to do all of the exercises in the whole wide world with absolute perfection and look stunning while doing them!  Nay nay! I ain't goin'.

I swear, if the clouds had opened and a ray of light from God had shined down upon me at that moment, I wouldn't have been surprised.  Because it was the little miracle I needed to push through this moment.

Out of nowhere, I could hear my therapist, Steve, say to me, "So many people get social anxiety.  Anxiety is fear related.  You just need to ask yourself what you're afraid of and then determine if it's a rational fear.  It usually isn't."

What was I afraid of?  I could make a huge list, but the top fears were as follows:

1. Looking like an out of shape klutz and being totally spastic while exercising.
2. Not being able to keep up with everyone else.
3. Being judged.

Suddenly the answer was upon me!  

I needed a security blanket.  Slap me on the arse and call me Linus!  THIS TIME I was going to conquer all of the  ridiculous anxiety crap like a badass Linus would've done!

Remember my tribe that I mentioned?  I needed to feel safe and loved and I was going to pluck two of my girls up out of the gang and call 'em to town.  I had already given myself the answer when I told Trish I was coming.  The girls already know I'm a big klutzy doofus.  And if I spaz out or cant keep up or feel judged, I just have to look over and they will be ready to laugh with me, armed with some sort of hilarious feedback that makes me feel like none of that even matters.  

Every time that anxious demon pops up in my head and I think, "Just cancel.  You can work out at home.  No one will even notice that you aren't there," I remember that I committed to this with my friends and they will be there to support me just like I will be there to support them.  Linus says CRACK!

Wish me luck.  It's tomorrow.  I'll let you know how it goes.  

Because I AM going to be there.

xoxo,

Vicki

Fentanyl Free.....Finally

This is probably one of the most personal things I’ve ever discussed publically, but now is the time to do it.   Amongst the death of yet another celebrity due to Fentenyl usage, I am blessed to find cause to celebrate.

I imagine you've heard the news about the opioid epidemic in America. You may have heard about Prince and Tom Petty, both of whom were prescribed this powerful narcotic for their pain, only to die from accidental overdoses.   Chances are that you thought that they were taking it to get high and that’s how they overdosed.  I’d bet the bank that the true story is something entirely different. I'm guessing that it's actually an extremely sad ending to a very common situation.

Perhaps you know someone who had multiple back surgeries, like my husband did, or maybe a cancer patient who is in terrible pain and has one of those Fentanyl patches on their body.  Or maybe they wear multiple patches, like Justin did.  

Justin is one of the few lucky ones to have a happy ending to his opioid story.  As of a few weeks ago, following seven years of wearing Fentenyl patches for pain management, my husband is finally free of it.    

He is badass.  He’s strong.  He’s my hero.

Unexpectedly, Justin wasn’t the only one wearing that patch for all of these years.  His family wore it too.  Part of my vlog below touches on this story.  (If you don't automatically see the video, click here)

And in regards to the coffee I raved about at the beginning of the video, you can request a free sample via my Facebook Page by clicking HERE 

Wishing you all Peace and Love!

xoxo

Vicki

Magic Beans....Coffee Beans

It's been an interesting bunch of days here at the Wolf Den.  Lots of changes and discoveries and stuff like that there.  2018 has already got things movin' and shakin'.

If you're here because of my Facebook post earlier today, welcome!   I'm going to tell you about what was in my cup.    And pssst....guess what....

Tee!  Hee!  It's true!

(I swear they have a Friends meme for everything!)

I promised that I'd share this new discovery and the easiest way to accomplish this task is two-fold.    First, I'm going to make you listen to me talk about it because it's just too much to type here.  Plus I'm all jazzed up with excitement about finding something so awesome.  After years of fighting sugar cravings and praying for help, I feel like I found a miracle!  

I did some research and development (R&D = drinking the coffee) and I feel like it's time to share.  Here's how we're gonna do this: 

Watch my video, full of love and information (and I completely forgot about the super awesome part until the last damn minute, but I managed to get it in there!).  Then take a look-see at the photos below. They expand on my chitchat.   

And after that, if you're as intrigued as I was, go to the website to get even more info and find out how you can get magic beans too (click here!).  

So, hang on....you're in for a great ride, especially if you've been dealing with the same issues that I have.  

Hey!  Watch this first....

And here are the photos I promised.  As I said, I can't do the Sciencey stuff and....well....someone already did it for me, so I'm just going to post what they wrote.  Thank you PR people!

The big picture - enlarged clips beloooooooooowwww!

Benefits?  There's benefits?  Why, yes there are!

And finally, WHAT IS IT?????

In case you missed the website above, here it is again https://elevacity.com/139685

If you have any questions, let me know!  Until next time......

xoxox

Vicki

SaveSave

130 Pounds of WHAT?

I can't believe a month has gone by already!  Thank you all for following along with me on this journey.  It's become a lot more than I anticipated!

I never expected to learn as much as I have this past month.  What started out as a vlog about losing weight became a quest for information about why I can't escape the clutches of unhealthy food.

Many moons ago, I took a Nutrition Course in college from Annmarie Colbin, a brilliant woman who owns a culinary school in Manhattan and has published multiple books about food and nutrition.  She opened my eyes to the disgusting crap that can be found in food.  The education I got on olive oil and fat free condiments alone was worth the price of those credits  (plus she's very funny, which made me love her even more!)

Then I became a health coach after losing weight 3 years ago and learned so much about how our bodies work in regards to what we put in them from Dr. Wayne Anderson (another very witty fella).  I have to admit that my weight gain had NOTHING to do with everything that he taught me.  Had I continued eating like a normal healthy human being, I would still be 33lbs lighter!  

So, imagine my surprise when I started this journey and gained all of this insight on will power and sugar and cravings.  Today, I gained another tiny tidbit that has knocked my socks off and I thought I'd share:  

Oh yes.  Can you see the light more clearly now?  I know I can!  I think that if we consumed 130 pounds of anything slightly addictive in one year we would surely be a slave to it by the time we finished.  

The visual of that much sugar in cube form just sends the message home.  Here's another one for ya:

There are 56 skittles in one regular bag, so that's 31, 570 bags of Skittles

This is the same amount of sugar as found in two 12oz cans of regular soda

200 years ago we were eating 1/17th of the amount of sugar???

I'm just going to let this all settle in.....

xoxoxo,

Vicki

If you clickity click on the banner below, it will seem like nothing happened, but it did!  You can close the window as soon as it opens if you like.  T'anks peeps!

Don't Be Dopey

I can't believe this, but THIS post.... this one right here....  THIS'UN HITHER.... is my 100th post.

Do you know what that means?

That means that there were 100 times that I felt the need to talk to strangers.  Yup.

Because if I know you, you've probably heard a lot of what I've babbled or ranted on and on about.  You probably got it straight from the horse's mouth at one time or another.

I'll have you know that I didn't realize this little 100th Post factoid until after I did my little video, so there will be no celebratory hooplah going on.   In fact, I was so jazzed up about my topic today that I almost didn't write anything here at all.  I was going to just post the video.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, I'm really digging this book I've been reading,  The Willpower Instinct by Kelly McGonigal, PhD.  I've never been a "sciency" person, so I was surprised that this book grabbed my attention and held it for so long.  Even mores, I can't believe how excited I am to share and relate to the information.

I've been struggling with my biology for a long time.  In my brain, I can be a size 2 with no problem! But then something sneaky creeps up and pushes me off my path, and I'm left standing there going, WHYYYYY????!!!

I now see that I have to evaluate my ENTIRE self to understand why I keep sabotaging myself.  It's not all physical and it's not all mental.  It's everything.  And I'm a bit uninformed.  But I'm learning!  I'll probably get it all figured out when I'm 93.... or 10 minutes before I get taken out by foliage (because, as I've mentioned, foliage is going to be what causes my demise!)

Today's video is about dopamine.  And manipulation.  And hot pretzels.  And struggle.  And monsters.  And Christmas music.  Oh yeah..... it's got ALL of those things in it.  Prepare yourself!

If you clickity click on the banner below, it will seem like nothing happened, but it did!  You can close the window as soon as it opens if you like.  T'anks peeps!

The Final Betrayal By My Arch Nemesis

Sounds like a juicy headline, doesn't it?  

There's no interpersonal drama going on, so if you're looking for seedy gossip, I apologize.

But I am angry.  And I'm annoyed. And just plain pissed.  😠

Day 14 isn't going as planned, but I guess that is to be expected.  And to be honest, I never found it to be much fun to follow people who have their "eternal bliss" on display at all times. Rest assured, there's no bliss here today!

And I hope you weren't terribly distracted by my half missing makeup or the random dog hair all over my sweatshirt.  Just trying to keep it real 😉

Love to you all xoxox ❤️

Biological Bruhaha and Things Like That There

Wait until you see the thumbnail photo that goes with my blog video this time.   Oh my frickin' gawd.

Go ahead.  Take a minute to scroll down and have a gander.  It's effin' atrocious.  😠

I'm going to make it my mission to find out how to change those damn things.  I can't get over how YouTube manages to find the most hideous facial expression in each video and then says, "Yes.  Yes, this is the one.  This one represents the theme of the video most accurately."  Then there's a pause, followed by the loudest "MUA-HA-HA-HA-HA" ever.

Bastages.  (I'm shaking my fist at them)

Anywho!  I crammed a lot of babble into today's video.  I'll be honest .....it took multiple takes for me to get this done in under 12 minutes.

For those of you who wondered exactly how long it would take me to figure this piece of information  out:

I am now fully aware that I ramble on occasion ....often.  I am sorry.  I am especially sympathetic to my mother, who has to listen to me babble like this daily.  She doesn't get to escape the wrath of my rambles like the rest of you do.

I love you, mama!  😘

With that being said, I made a bit of a boo-boo yesterday, but I managed to turn it into a learning lesson.  A "teachable moment", if you will.  After my confession, I analyzed the bejeezus out of my behavior and came up with this:

LOOK AT THIS PREVIEW THUMBNAIL PHOTO!!!

I swear to God, someone who works at YouTube hates me.

For those of you who made it past minute 10, I am very sincere about my gratitude.  Thank you so much for keeping me on track.  I'd be grateful if I had only one person who is tolerating my jibber-jabber right now.... even if that one person is just sitting there waiting for me to screw up!  😏  Motivation is motivation, no matter how ya' get it.  Fortunately, Im far more blessed than that and I appreciate each one of you!!!

And to wrap this all up, I'm just going to include some entertaining memes.  Why?  Because I'm hoping that if a photo pops up when I post this video, IT'S NOT THE ONE FROM YOUTUBE!  Sweet Jesus!

Love to you all!  xoxoxox

Tee! Hee!  How many of us have envisioned this....?

It's true!  I'm like Joey from FRIENDS.... I just wanna put my fat pants on and eat!

AMEN!  The sweater situation is spot on!

This would be my husband.  I can actually see this becoming a reality some day.

I'm sure everyone else but me already knew this.

Pasta, Beans and the Pre-Frontal Cortex

Today was a big day for learnin'.  I was feeling ancy and couldn't concentrate on any fictional books in my Audible stash, so I delved into some of health books in my archives.  After a few hours, I was so  excited about the information that had permeated my brain matter (I'm feeling like a smartypants....just humor me) that I decided that I had to share it with you right away.

In my excitement, I got a little tongue-tied a few times, but hopefully I get my points across.  I was all worked up about my new "Pasta Intel".   Take a peek and I'll clarify my point afterward:

I know that I stumbled through the bean info, so just to be a little more clear, let me write it out.  A serving of black beans is usually one cup.  In that cup, you'll get 12 yummy grams of protein and 9 filling grams of fiber.  Whoo hooo!  As a bonus, you get some fancy folate which (stokes) muscle growth, as well as some tasty copper to help strengthen your tendons.  Yowza!  Beans are sounding like a fabulous choice, aren't they?

And I wasn't foolin' when I mentioned that eating four servings of beans or legumes each week will accelerate weight loss.  I feel a big ole batch of extra beany chili in my near future.

So, after the whole pasta and bean excitement died down, I listened to a new book that I found after searching on line for information about will power.  Here's more about that..... and bear with me..... just when you start to worry about whether I had been drinking excessively while recording the following video, I bring it all together and make it simple.  Enjoy! 😉

The 80/20 Rule

I think that fall has officially arrived in New York State today. They claim that it arrived a while ago, but in my head, it's not officially autumn until you are no longer able to wear shorts in public and look like a normal person.  

The color change of the leaves and overcast skies are also an indication of fall....but if I see you in shorts,  I'm judging you.  Shorts should no longer be part of your wardrobe selection in New York, unless you're exercising.

Which brings me to today's babble. The 80/20 rule is one of my favorites.....not to be confused with Van Halen's OU812, although it is also consumption related.

(I know, I know....they all can't be witty little winners.  Sorry 😐 )

Anyway.....I did not inherit the Gym Joy Gene. I feel no rush of happiness when thinking about any exercise facility.  

None. Nada. Zippo. Zero. Zilch!

Clearly, there must be a Gym Joy Gene in my family, because I frequently see pictures on Instagram of my older brother working out, or my little sister in the gym locker room, all jazzed up and ready to go and lift heavy shit.  I look at those photos and feel a mixture of pride and envy; I'm very proud of them for taking such good care of themselves, but damn if I'm not envious of their drive to work out!  (Or even to put on workout clothes.) The only drive I've ever had was the one that put my ass in a car to score myself some donuts!

Fortunately there's that lovely 80/20 Rule that fits right into my own physical activity and exercise regimen.    

Scientific findings after my own heart!

Here's more about that:

(Seriously, where do they get these thumbnails for videos?  It must be a conspiracy of some sort 🤔)

(Note: if you are reading this via email, you won't see a video.  Click on the Blog title toward the top of the email to go directly to the page)

Oh, The Pizza!

I'm on day six of Operation Healthypants and I can't wait until this day is over!  As always, there are ups and downs, because as someone very annoying once said, you wouldn't be able to appreciate the sad times if it weren't for the happy times. That person may have a very valid point, but today it's just a bunch of obnoxious words strung together to amplify how disgruntled I am at the moment.

So here's what happened:

(Note: if you're reading this blog via email, you may not see the video.  Please click on the following link Day 6 Video

Sweet Talk

This whole Vlog thing is definitely much more convenient, but just as equally strange. I'm far more comfortable sitting at a keyboard, typing the words as they come flying into my head.  And at a home office, you can sit there in your jammies, sporting a bed head coiffure, with a charcoal mask on your face and no one has any idea that you look like a disaster.   You just have to SOUND like you've got your shit together.

Most of my day is spent alone, so I do a lot of thinking.  (I also do a lot of very bad singing along with the radio, but I promise to spare you from that hellacious experience). 

Sometimes I'm mulling over the direction I can take the characters in my book (Yup... I'm STILL writing.). On a good day, ideas are flying in and out of my head... and they are literally flying, because it never fails that by the time I pull over to write them down, they're long gone.

In the midst of all of that, I think about things going on in my life or in the world around me. If I had a dollar for every time that I said, " this would make an excellent subject for a blog post!", you and I would be sitting somewhere having a fabulous lunch at an expensive restaurant.

Alas, you are over there, reading these ramblings, and I am over here, trying to get this out of my head and in writing.  Next time, less writing and more convenient video.

So, without further ado, I present to you today's babble about my arch nemesis .... sugar. 

Ps.  Proof that my child doesn't just eat crap in case you decided that I'm a bad mother after hearing about what's  in my garage:

Goodbye Stranger

I started this blog a bunch of years ago  when my daughter was a wee toddler and I was trying to find a way to cope with being a working mom with a handicapped husband.    

The main issue at that time was that I felt as though my daughter had bonded with my husband far more than she had bonded with me. Of course this is to be expected, considering that he spent every day with her, as he was unable to leave our home due to his medical condition.  In turn, that meant that I was working every day and wasn't at home as much as we ALL would've liked.

I'm pleased to say that things have changed since then. With lots of work, communication, debating, arguing, hurt feelings, guilt, rejection, and forgiveness we have managed to find a situation where we all are happy together and everybody feels loved and supported (most of the time....no one is perfect!)  I'd sum up that time period as "a pretty rough start to 
what has potential to finish as a success story".  Yay for us!

Recent milestones outside of my little wolf pack have triggered some new issues that I need to deal with. It seems like the issues never end, doesn't it?   I think that's the whole thing about life. We just keep plugging along looking for answers, and try to be grateful that we have questions that keep popping up. I think once you stop having issues, there's not a whole lot of breathing or bodily functions going on at that point (a/k/a you're dead).

Moving on, now I need to start taking care of my heath and this is the new general-issue that I'm tackling. I keep thinking that I wish I have appreciated youth and good health more.  I took all of those easy years for granted!

Some of you may know that 2017 started off with a big old rough patch for me. From January through early May, I had all sorts of crazy symptoms, saw almost every kind of doctor (Im still avoiding the proctologist!  45 years and counting.....Score!), and ended up with absolutely no answers.  It was a pretty scary time for me. 

Worse yet, I'd become so desperate for ANY diagnosis, that every single doctor who told me they didn't know what was wrong with me got to witness 'Vicki In Tears'.  And I'm not a pretty crier, just in case you were wondering.  One physician stared at me in horror. 

Surprisingly, I also became desperate to hear anything in regards to what was going on with me. And I mean anything. I would go to appointments to obtain test results, and tell myself that I would be happy even if they diagnosed me with cancer, because it least it would be an answer and I could treat something.  I just wanted a chance of being me again.

As I mentioned, I never got any answers. Lots of treatments and medications and recommendations, but no answers. The one thing that I did have was a friend who knew exactly what I was going through.  That in itself was priceless.   

Wendy IS priceless.  And a warrior.  And wise.  And she didn't leave me alone when I needed someone to keep heaving my ass up and push me along my path.  (This'll freak her out....) She was like my own little mortal Jesus, carrying me when I was too pathetic to walk thru life. Lol!

"I worry when you get quiet.  Send proof of life."  Those words let me know that I couldn't just shut down and hide with my family.  I had someone to answer to.

Then there was guilt.  Guilt because while I was so happy to have someone who understood, I also love her greatly and wanted her to find answers to HER issue and relief of her own. She is still searching for that. She was my rock..... and she still suffers while I am feeling better.  

I'm sure you're wondering what my point is here, aren't you?

My point is twofold.

Number one, I'm so grateful for Wendy. She taught me many things, but one of the largest lessons is my number two.  (Meaning, my second point... not my poop)

Number two, nobody likes to go through crap alone. And there are a lot of us struggling with so many different trials and tribulations and dramas and traumas.  We should try to come together and support each other, especially when you find somebody desperately trying to cope with an issue similar to yours.

(Side note:  Dont sink...SWIM!  It's essential to find someone who will float with you, not drag you down.  If you feel like you're drowning with them, BAIL!)

So, I'm putting my shit out there. I believe that a good portion of the things that ail me are a result of the fact I'm extremely unhealthy right now.  Granted, I rarely drink and I quit smoking over a decade ago. The only drugs I take or ones the doctors prescribe. I see a therapist regularly to help me deal with the ups and downs of life, as well as to help me interpret my husband. 

I say interpret, because I swear we speak different languages sometimes and my therapist is excellent at Manterpretation.  And no, you may not have his name and number, because he is totally fucking excellent and I don't want anybody infringing on his availability to me.  (Lol)

Hopefully I'll be able to honor my commitment here, because what I'm getting at is that I'm going to be posting my journey on my blog. I hope to succeed, but I imagine there will be some failures along the way, because even though my husband tells me that I think I'm always right, I know it's not true.

Feel free to comment, offer encouragement, cry on my shoulder, commiserate, and any thing else you feel like adding along the way.  And if you would like to join me in the efforts, I would be honored.

Here's my first entry:

 

Ps. Don't judge the hair and makeup....I work outside and I'm sickly, so cut a sister some slack!

Happy Me-a-versary!

(From Friday, July 11th)

Today is my one year anniversary of successful weight loss.  365 days ago I gave my program a chance (after oodles of tears) and here I am celebrating that it worked!  Go me!

I can no longer wear anything “plus sized”.  I’ve seen a size 10 after 20 years of 14-16s.  I was in a dressing room in Kohl’s with Allie when I put on size 12 pants and they were too big.  I yelled out to Justin to find me a size 10.  I tried them on and cried.  Allie went bolting out of the dressing room to Justin, announcing, “Uh-oh!  Mommy’s crying!”  I just stood there smiling and crying, and he congratulated me and hugged me.  Hello, size ten.  I have arrived.  Size eight, you better get your shit ready, cuz you’re next!

One year, 30lbs. and 24inches later!   Score!

Weird Weight Loss Related News Flash!  Update: I’m no longer scared of spaghetti squash.  The first time I heard about them, I went out and bought one.  I brought it home and put it on my stove and examined it.  For two weeks.  KERPLUNK!  Garbage.

Justin asked me what happened to it (since it had become a permanent fixture on the stove) and I confessed that I was too scared to cook it and it went bad.  So, when we went to the grocery store again, you can only imagine the look I got when I sheepishly put another one in the cart.

“Really?  Are you going to actually cook it?  Or are you going to panic and let it go bad like the last one? Have you conquered the fear?”

I shot him a ‘screw you’ look and snottily said, “Of course I’m going to cook it this time!”  That was bitchy.  He had a point.

I did finally cook it after looking it up online and comparing 5 different ways to prepare the damn thing.  I chose the method that was most frequently mentioned.  Stab the sonofabitch, put it in a baking dish and bake it for an hour.  Cut in half, use a fork to pull the “spaghettis” off and voila’!   A pasta craving killer.

Just in case you were wondering what I'm talking about.  Ooooooo scary sketty squash!!!

I no longer fear any food.  Except for something called the ugli fruit.  It’s just not right.  How did they get an orange in a pear body?  It’s cross-dressing fruit.  It’s a citrus fruit masquerading as….. whatever a pear is.

When I first met Justin, I was a “runner”.  At least I was trying to be.  I had bought all of the cute ensembles, the proper shoes, and the Idiots Guide to Running.  I was getting quite good at it until he showed up.  I think I went out jogging about 2 times and then decided to just surgically attach myself to his side and do/eat/go along with all things he did/ate/went to.

Little did I know that he was one of those people who could eat EVERYTHING.  He was the only person I know who would get into bed, reach over, open the end table and pull out a gallon bag filled with Oreos and NutterButters, a bag of pretzels and a can of Pringles.

Holy hell.  That was the beginning of the end.  I was no longer a jogger.  I was an eater.

That end table no  longer has food in it.  And Justin has started the program to lose some post-surgical weight.  And I went back to running.

Again, starting was scary.  I dug out my cute little ensembles (which fit me for the first time in 7 years), bought the proper running shoes, subscribed to Runners World magazine and bought a book for beginner runners to see if anything was new or different.

Then I stared at it.  For two weeks.  I think I”m going to name this affliction “Squash Syndrome”.  That just came to me now.  Anyway….

I remember starting the health program and being terrified of the food before it arrived too.  What IS that???  Why did I feel such fear over things that were only going to have positive results?  It’s ridiculous!  God knows I wasn’t afraid of eating an entire cake in 24 hours or afraid of laying in bed for 3 days from depression (it wasn’t pretty).  I was fearless in those cases!  And there were plenty more of them.

With running they tell you to just put on your shoes and put one foot in front of the other.  That’s all.  And it’s excellent advice.  It pertains to everything we are afraid of.  JUST START.  The rest will follow.

Facebook is an amazing phenomenon as it can ruin your day or make your day.  It can  crumble dreams or inspire you.  During my Running Squash Syndrome, Facebook managed to inspire me.  I kept seeing the same three people posting about running from time to time.  Toni, Jessica and Madeleine.  Every time I saw them post about running, it made me want to do it.  I wanted to be like them!  I had been watching for months, but now I was actually making efforts to TRY it!  I asked them questions and searched for advice.  Ironically, all three said they didn’t feel like they were any good at it and at times they hated running…..and it was the push I needed.  They hated it sometimes, yet they kept going.  There’s something to be said for that.  It means that it provides results that make them feel better.  It was totally worth any pain running created.  And that’s all I wanted.

I’ve been at this for about a month now.  I’ll be honest.  It’s effing hard as hell.  Little kids seem to have no problem just dashing about for hours.  Experienced runners make it look effortless and like they are gliding.  It LOOKS easy.  But it’s not.

Yet I like it.  Within 3 minutes, however, I looking like I’m going to keel over and die.  My feet start dragging and my form is reminiscent of an escapee from a mental institution.  I’m constantly correcting it.  I often imagine that I look like Phoebe on the episode of Friends where Rachel is too embarrassed to run with her.

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When a car or walker approaches, I find the need to correct my form and fake it like I’m really good at this.  I’m a poser.  Total fake!  And my faking is painful.  Once the people are gone I have to remember to relax again or it wears me out.  Looking good at this is even more exhausting!  It’s like holding in your stomach for too long.  Eventually your mind goes, “Release!  Let it go, you nut!"

I have had some nice results.  My legs are gaining some nice muscle…… from the knee down.  From the knee up, I’ve got a thighmergency.  There’s cellulite, flab and jiggling.  I had an emergency consultation with my fitness pro neighbor friend, Trish, about how to make this go away.  Right away, she gave me the sympathetic, knowing nod and said, “I have many people with this same problem.”  And then I mentally inscribed every exercise she mentioned that might help onto my cranium.

During a stretch, I noticed that my calves were looking snappy.  Notice the thighs aren't in the photo!

I’m hoping that this is how it works with running:  your body starts to improve from the feet and works its way up.  I’ve informed my calves that I’m plenty pleased with their appearance and they need to let my thighs have a turn now.  Okay, thighs!  You're up!  Get crackin’!

On the plus side, I’m no longer gasping for air after 30 seconds.  Seriously.  If you’ve never tried it, I challenge you to go outside and run down your street for a full minute.  I did that with Justin years ago and by the time he reached the stop sign at the end of our block, he was winded and said, “fuck it”.  He no longer makes fun of me.

I love when I put on my shoes and get ready to go and Allie says, “Have a good running, Mommy.  We will stay here and take a bath while you’re doing it.”  I love when I come home a sweaty mess and Allie says, “Mommy, how was your running? You look.... hot.”  And that’s not a compliment.  She doesn't mean good "hot".  It’s a polite observation of how horrible I look.

Me and Allie in Valentines Day 2013

Justin, Allie and me Valentines Day 2014

So my goal for the next 365 days is to maintain my healthy habits and to become a runner.  I want to look back and read this and #1- Feel sorry for me (which I already kinda do - lol) and #2- Be proud of my progress.

Apparently July 11th is going to be my Resolution Day.  Screw New Year’s Eve.  Pick a day and go for it.  Just start.  Every day is a gift, so the day you are in right now is the perfect time to start something new!

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Forbidden Dance of Joy

Oh yes!  You know what's coming, dontcha?!!!

SHAZAM!  I'm in the 150's!

For over twenty years, I tried to get back to the 50's.  And as I told you the last time, I was going to do the Forbidden Dance of Joy all over the place when it happened.

Well, the dance didn't quite happen.  It's hard to dance for joy when you're blubbering like you just won an Oscar.  That was unexpected.

Please....let's relive the moment....shall we?

I got up this morning and went down to the scale, just knowing that today was the day!  I grabbed Justin and made him come with me because I wanted someone to celebrate with.  Always willing to play along, he grabbed the camera and was crouched down by the scale, very focused, as if he was waiting for something to come flying out of it.

I got on and shit started to happen.  Remember that my scale doesn't play along with the "If I move a little this way, I can make the number change" game.   The numbers were flying all over while the scale was scanning me.  158.5.... 160.2.....  158.8....  159.7.... and the answer isssssssss....

BAM!  158.8, bitches!  That's the final answer, Regis!  And now I want to phone a friend!

Naturally, I was in shock, so I got off and reset the scale.  I wanted full and definite confirmation.  Justin was busy snapping photos like he was with paparazzi at a main event.  (I love how he tries to jazz up the energy just to amuse me.)

I got back on the scale and the same thing happened.

Holy crap.  It's for real.

Immediately I started crying.  I think the last time I cried for joy was when Allie was born.  I felt this enormous sense of relief, along with the excitement of some gigantic prize waiting in front of me.

I finally accomplished this goal after 20 years.  I can't tell you how many times I gave up on this mission and decided it was impossible and unobtainable.  And here it was.  Right in front of me.  Hot damn!

I was so glad that Justin was there.  It was a milestone that I didn't want to reach alone.   And it was great to have someone hug me while I was having a happy meltdown.

The strange thing is that for the first few hours, I didn't want to tell anyone.  I wanted to keep it to myself.  I have no idea what that was about, but I just enjoyed feeling invincible and powerful without anyone else adding to the moment.  Clearly, I'm over it because I'm telling all of you right now.

So, I'm going to keep going.  Maybe next I'll see a 4?!  I can't even fathom it, but you never know.  A year ago, I couldn't imagine seeing a 5 without gastric bypass surgery.

Next post, I will share Allie's morning with you.  While I was having this big moment, we were giving her an experience that I'm sure she will be dragging us to therapy for years from now.   It was a double whammy.  Ugh!

Until then....... be joyous, people!

p.s In case you were wondering what the Forbidden Dance of Joy looks like, I'm sure you are imagining  something like this:

In MY head, it looks something like this:

But I'm sure it actually looks something like this:

Click HERE to see it in action

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Fightin' For that Five & a Parental Promotion

Hello, everyone!

I want to start by saying thank you so much to all of you who were so encouraging about my latest endeavor.  Whether you commented or just hit that "like" button, I was touched by your feedback.  It was like an extra boost to keep going.

My client that started last week, Ms. J,  has already lost five pounds and she made it seem effortless.  She was like a star pupil!  Her positive attitude had a lot to do with it, but she also fought for it as well.  She followed the program and VOILA!  It's working.  I'm really proud of her and inspired by her too!

Speaking of "Five", I've been fighting to see that second digit become a five for a few days now.  It's my first big weight goal in Operation Fattypants.  Today I got on the scale and you know what I saw?

160.0.  POINT ZERO?   Really?  The effing thing just can't give me a break.

Worse yet, I have one of those scales that does not allow you to cheat in any fashion.  You get on, it scans, and then BAM!  The number pops up and the scale immediately sends it to your computer.   There's no chance to lean a little to the left and maybe get the scale to take off .1 of a pound.  It pisses me off.  But I suppose I need the honesty.

In case you're wondering, I have the FitBit Aria scale.  It works with the FitBit Force and is compatible with the My Fitness Pal app/website.  It's like all of my devices gang up on me.  There's no cheating.  Mutter fluckers.

I will be doing the Forbidden Dance of Joy when I hit that 159, so prepare yourself, peeps.  Wherever you live, I'm sure you'll hear me carrying on.

On other fronts, viral germs have infiltrated my home again.  This time it appears that they do not wish to invade MY body.  They've organized an attack against Justin and Allie.

Last Tuesday, Justin got the stomach virus.  Three days of gastrointestinal fun!  Whoopeee!  Around the 2nd day, he got the respiratory virus.  Double the fun!  Around Friday, he passed it on to Allie, which was a kick in the pants.  I mean, look at this poor baby.....

She usually operates on Fast Forward so for her to be passed out like this in the middle of the day was quite surprising.

Times like this are when I see the real value of Facebook.  Immediately I jumped on Facebook and started asking questions.  So many awesome people responded right away with input.   Of course they are only opinions, but to me it's like gold.  Those opinions have value to me.  Who knows this stuff better than Moms?

I know that sounds really sexist, and I know that there are plenty of dads who are the Go To Parent when illness takes over, so please forgive me for singling out the maternal side.  But when I complained about how I felt like the Optional Parent, everyone said, "Wait until she gets sick or injured.  You'll see."

When Allie wants to play or rough house or do something extra fun, Justin is the Go To guy.  She hears him come home and gets super excited.  Me....not so much.  That's why I say that I feel like the Optional Parent.  He's the super fun playmate.

HOWEVER there is an exception to this rule.  The second that Allie falls down or feels sick, it's all about Mama!  She wont even let Justin touch her.  "NOOOOO!  I WANT MAMA!!"  And of course this is very confusing to him, since he's the center of her world at every other moment.

The immature side of me relishes in this.  Why?  Because he finally gets to see what it feels like to have your child run past you to get to the other parent.  And it's really nice to be able to have something to give that no one else can.  I'm the Comfort Parent.  I'm viewing it as a promotion from Optional Parent. I'll take it.  No extra pay necessary.

Before I go, I had something occur that I'm wondering if any other parents have experienced.  It was a bit freaky and unexpected.....

I took Allie's temperature on Sunday and it was 102.7.  I had to do some things around the house so I moved her from my lap to Justin's.  When I finished with the chores, I came back to the couch and sat down next to him.  For about an hour I felt very emotional and disturbed.

Don't make fun, but I felt exactly like my dog does when a storm is coming.  She gets all freaked out and worried looking.  We always know that a climate change is about to occur just by Sadie's behavior.

During that hour, I kept saying to Justin that I felt like something wasn't right with Allie.   I called the doctor and he told me that her symptoms were normal for the virus that was going around.  But I still felt freaky.  I took her temperature again.

"It says.......104.9."

Wait.  WHAT???

I took it again.  Still 104.9.    I started crying.  I don't know why.  After that, I called my mom and asked her to bring all of her thermometers over.  ("All of my glasses and all of my shoes" for you Jerky Boys fans)  I took Allie's temperature again and it said the same thing.

We called the doctor AGAIN and followed his advice.  About 2 hours later she was back to 102.7 and I was feeling like myself again.  The next morning she was 99.3.  All was fine.  All was good.

So, who is going to explain this to me????  Does someone want to explain that floofy, kafuffle thing that I had going on internally the night before?  Do all moms get this?  Are these more maternal connections to create more things for me to worry about?  No one warned me about this!

Is this how my mom has always known to call me when I'm having distress?  Immediately after an argument with someone, the phone would ring and my mother would say, "It's me.  Are you okay?"  I know that I'm just a rookie.  I'm in the same room and I have this internal thing going on.  My mom gets it while she's in another zip code!  I lived in an entirely different state during many of those crappy moments.  She's intuitive on a professional level.

So, to wrap this up, here's my little princess this morning, feeling all fabulous.....

She's still sickly, but she is happy to be almost back to full speed.

And since I mentioned the dog earlier, here's a photo from this evening.  Sadie has insisted on sleeping by Allie's feet since she got sick.  I looked down tonight and saw this and it warmed my heart....

My two favorite girls intertwined

Wishing you all good health and fluffy, protective paws  :-)

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