Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Summer of Gump - point A to point B

I signed up for a shit ton of races. All summer long I'll be runnin' and that means I need to be trainin'

Where to start? At the beginning I guess. Identify point A (my current condition) and define point B (my goal)

Point A -
I titled this blog with the intent to reveal all; weight, measurements, etc as my point A. But I really don't want to do that. That's either embarrassing or boastful, I won't say which. Embarrassing. Definitely embarrassing. I've gained twenty pounds since October. Twenty pounds in six months. The last time I gained this kind of weight I was building another person inside of my belly. Now my belly is where cookies go to be memorialized in a wall of fat after they are unceremoniously devoured in a feeding frenzy. OR something like that. That being said I would love to lose a little (a lot of) weight and get my figured back (to stop looking pregnant) The problem with using that information as a measurement of success is that it wouldn't be a true representation of my goal. (only most of my goal) My weight now verses my weight later? What does that reveal? I don't even have a goal weight (120). And as far as measurements go..... I've heard that ideal is 36-24-36 but only if you're 5'3" which I am. To clarify I'm 5'3" not those other numbers. But that's a song about how much that guy likes ass not a realistic number to base a goal off of. So thanks for your input Sir Mix-A-Lot but I'm going to go a different direction. (No I'm not. That is totally my goal)

Truth is I'd be cool weighing in at a twenty stones (only because I have no idea how much that is) as long as I was in "top form". To me "top form" translates to "has a moderate chance of success (while rocking a bikini and heels) in hand to hand combat with a grizzly bear" or penguins. I HATE penguins. Is it just me or does any one else think penguins are smarmy little bastards? Every time I see one I want to punt it. It is extremely likely that if I were an Eskimo I would be known for using one penguin to beat the life out of another penguin. Which would make me an extremely eccentric Eskimo because I would have to have them captured by rogue hunters and then flown in from the South Pole. Probably for some annual Eskimo festival, like...... daytime. And then all the other Eskimos would think it was some sort of Pole war and they would chant "North Side" and make hand gestures but in reality I would only be doing it because I hate penguins not because I wanted Pole dominance. But I would never reveal that. Team Spirit.

Speaking of poles.... this happened yesterday.

Strange Older Lady - Hi we're going around the neighborhood today giving fast quotes for auto insurance, on average we've been saving folks - Oh! Hi! I remember you.
Me - Hi (blank stare)
Strange Older Lady - Didn't you used to dance?
Me - having been told once or twice before (but never directly) that I have the grace of a ballerina, I smile at her easy to make mistake
Strange Older Lady - Where was it? Golden Trails?
Me - Hey! No.
Strange Older Lady - I'm sorry, my mistake (But she totally gave me the don't worry I'll keep your secret look)

So, First! Golden Trails? What the hell is that old lady doing in a strip club? Second, she was blushing, what exactly was she remembering? that sly dog. And finally, just when I think that in a strange way it's kind of a compliment to assume I could make a bit of money gyrating in the nude, I realize she assumed I was a FORMER stripper. She called me an out of work stripper. A "fallen on hard times" stripper. A "you used to be covered in glitter and reek of seduction but now you like NASCAR and reek of french fries" stripper. Rude! and wrong! I don't like NASCAR. But she could save me 20% on my auto insurance. Still I didn't change coverage! Ha! Who's fallen on hard times now!? Bitch.

What the hell are we talking about? I just realized none of this has anything to do with training. So............ yeah, I'm still on step one, set a goal. What is my point B? I don't know. Let's look at the situation:

In two and a half weeks I need to be able to swim 300 meters, bike 12.75 miles, and then run a 5k. I have three and a half hours from the time the race starts to the time the award ceremony begins. So worst case scenario I drown. But less worse worst case scenario, in my current condition I would still finish with in the allotted time. I think. Hey! Maybe I could cross the finish line while every one is clapping for the people who actually won awards. I could pretend they were clapping because they were SO proud of me that it moved them to make loud noises. and then I'll make a speech... FOCUS! I want to do slightly better than that. So this shall be my goal................drum roll..................If I can get myself to the point that I can swim for 30 minutes straight, bike for 45 minutes straight. and then run for 30 minutes straight, then I can be reasonably proud of my success. That is my Point B.

I need to bike for 45 minutes straight, I can currently bike for 18 minutes and that's about 3 miles. If I do the math at that rate 12.75 miles would take me 76.5 minutes (F@#$)
I need to run for 30 minutes straight, I can currently run for 1 minute 30 seconds. I "run" a 16 minute mile. It would take me 48 minutes to finish a 5k (Double F@#$)
I need to swim 30 minutes straight, I currently can't swim, if I float on my back I can do a length in about 12 minutes. it will take me 72 minutes to do six lengths. If I add all of that up there is a strong probability that I will be stealing some one else's applause which means on top of everything else now I have to write a speech. (DOuble F@#$ squared)

Here's my plan. For the next 18 days I will run, bike, and row machine (unless I can make it to a pool) every day. I will increase the time a little each day until a knee or other some other important joint explodes giving me a reasonable excuse to bail out of this entire debacle.

Sweet! I now feel like I have something to work towards. Cheers.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Prelude to My Summer of Gump

Remember that time I was going to get in to better shape through dieting HAHAHAHA yeah me neither. I quickly learned Paleo can go to Helleo (why must I always rhyme with that word)

Seriously though. I have a big problem. I'm in the worst kind of trouble. (Not really. I have an over active imagination that exaggerates the mundane. For example, Whenever I have bananas I eat half of one and the rest go bad, whenever I'm out of bananas I am convinced I'm on the verge of a potassium deficiency that will lead to certain death before I can even make it to the grocery store. In fact I can't make it to the grocery store because the low levels of Potassium have led to a case of the shakes and driving just isn't safe. and I am going to die. 99% of me knows THAT IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN but just because I acknowledge that reality doesn't mean I thrive in it so back to panicking.)

I have recently become obsessed. Actually obsessed is a word I am no longer fond of - so let's begin again.

I have recently become aware that I am not physically capable of very many things. I even struggle with basic things. A couple of blogs ago I wrote a little bit of nonsense about my brother Mashu. He has no hands but he still manages to do a lot of stuff. It kind of got me thinking how far beyond expectations he goes on a daily basis. Is it because he really has no choice? If he didn't push himself beyond the minimum he wouldn't have independence. And that's when I realized, I'm such a loser. I never meet or exceed expectations. I have all of my parts and I don't even use them.

Look at this photo. Her and I are exactly alike. We have all of the same parts. What is the difference then? For starters, I don't look that good. Ever. But more to the point, I have never tried that hard at anything. ANYTHING. If I were on fire I still wouldn't dig deep and give 100%. I'd give like 64%, I'd go through the motions but I wouldn't come to a complete stop. I'd likely just lower rather than drop and I see myself wiggling more than the required roll. So instead of stop, drop, and roll. I would slowly bend and wiggle. When on fire I would dance. Dirty dance. Poorly.
Look at her. How awesome is that? Even if this is a picture of her in a race she lost it's still impressive. When you compete, no matter what sport, you fight yourself. You are your biggest opponent. Why? Because every instinct tells you to take the path of least resistance which translates to - accomplish the task with minimal effort. You can walk to the finish line. Therefor anything beyond walking to some degree is unnatural. So you have to overcome that instinct to reserve your energy and instead do the opposite. Force yourself in to a focused explosion of energy and accomplish something unnecessary. And by unnecessary I mean if she doesn't run nothing happens. No one is chasing her, nothing is about to explode, no danger anywhere. She is able to harness that same "do or die" inner force outside of a "do or die" situation. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT. Plus I am constantly plagued with the overwhelming instinct to find the nearest sandwich. Which is rarely the appropriate action. Sometimes though, it's lunch time and everyone is hungry for cold cuts. That's when I shine. And I dance. Like I'm on fire. Slow and awkward.

So what to do? How do I make my desire to do more/be more, become a reality? I will do what I do second best. That's right boys and girls! It's time for crazy cakes dipped in nutter butter! At the beginning of this ramble I mentioned a problem. What is that problem you ask? I'm horribly out of shape and my half ass attempts at dieting and exercise don't seem to be working. So I have done what any sane rational person would do. I committed to a half a dozen feats of physical strength that I am in no way capable of. I spent a small fortune and I have told everyone I know I'm doing it. Leaving me no choice but to follow through. The first of which is a Triathlon in exactly 23 days. The best part. I don't know how to swim, and I know for a fact that an inability to swim is a major problem in a triathlon. This isn't my first stroll down nut bar lane I've tried a Tri before. (It wasn't a very good solution that time either but my unique aptitude for never learning from my mistakes has the benefit of making my life more entertaining for others)
My only hope of not finishing dead last is to come equipped with a taser to take out the competition. The flaw in that plan is that those who know me best will pat me down before the race and take it away.

In conclusion my next several blogs are going to focus on this need of mine to set my self up for failure and then I will lament endlessly about all the ways I could have avoided it. I will share my training, my possible  transformation, my likely humiliation. The difference between this time and every other time I've done this, AKA summer, - I'm going to try. I'm being serious. I'm really going to try this time. I'm not just going to walk to the finish line. I'm going to explode with energy and focus that energy. I'm going to exceed my expectations and impress myself. I'm going to download eye of the tiger and drop kick a Russian in the face.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Pinterest. A love hate relationship.

I have come to know one thing with certainty. I love pinterest and I hate pinterest equally.

There are some really fun cute ideas on there THAT NEVER WORK WHEN I TRY THEM. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I only skim over the directions. Maybe it's because I never have the ingredients/supplies called for and substitute things that are not even remotely close to what they're supposed to be substituting. Maybe because instead of following the instructions like some kind of sheep headed for slaughter at the last second I rebel and have to do it my way. Or mostly because I'm some kind of f***ing idiot and I don't even know what directions like "reduce sauce until desired consistency is reached" is supposed to mean. (in case you don't know either, it does not mean pour half of it out. This method effectively reduces the sauce but you'll never reach desired consistency. Ever.)

Recently I had what I refer to as a minor rant on the facebook. I have a tendency for minor rants when I encounter something with two qualities. One, it's just oozing with stupidity. And two, it isn't my stupidity. When it's my stupidity I give it a laugh and move on, no biggie. When it's someone else's stupidity I'm all over it like glitter on a vampire. Speaking of things oozing with stupidity...

FOCUS! That is the third time today my mind has drifted over to vampires. Anyhow the aforementioned rant was caused by this little gem:

When I saw this I thought of all the fun times I've never successfully painted my own fingernails. Also known as every time I have ever painted my finger nails. And then I thought "what if I added glue?" At the thought of it my loins burned with fury. Not really, I just like to say that. For some reason that sentence excites me. What I really thought was what a**hole is putting bullsh*t tips on pinterest and then laughing all day at the idiots who thought it was WAIT A MINUTE! That's not an a**hole that's a genius. And then I came up with this:

 That's horrible. and not very funny. I have a lot of idiot friends and I think some would try that.

I can't end the blog this way obviously. I don't feel any sense of accomplishment. But I really have only one helpful tip that is Pinterest worthy. It's kind of stupid though and maybe everyone already knows this, but, here it is. My one bit of advice.

When you are tanning (SHUT UP! I already know it's bad but I need a base tan before I go in to the sun or I burn like a vampire with a----- I'm going to stop myself)... anyhow, when you are tanning and you forget a hair tie, like I do every single time I go tanning, you can still hold your hair up without getting it all lotiony. When you take your shirt off, don't take it all the way off. stop at your forehead and then twist that bioch like a turban!

The best thing about this photo is the sh*tty nail polish job on my little fingers. I should end this blog now but there's something else I do when I'm in a tanning bed and I am curious if anyone else out there does the same thing. When you look at yourself in the mirror and you're all crazy blue and white etc. does anyone else pretend they look like this?

If so, I have one more piece of pinterest worthy advise. Don't do this while wearing headphones. Just because you can't hear your banshee shrieks over the Pantera you're jamming, the rest of the salon can. One of the snotty little b****es that "works" at the front counter will come in to investigate. Interestingly when they do burst in to find out you were just playing with your own reflection, for one brief moment, the eyebrows they drew on that morning, are appropriate for their facial expression in that situation. 

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Vacation Packing

I can not pack for a vacation. No joke y'all. I'm really really bad at a lot of things like cooking, parenting, vocalizing only things that are "appropriate" in "polite" society. I'm really really bad at all of that and somehow worse at packing. Or preparing for anything ever.
It may be because I have an unshakable resolve that everything will turn out fine regardless of whether or not I contribute any energy. This ideal has never turned out to be true but I still believe it with all of my little heart. You can call it optimism, positive thinking, faith. Or you can call it what it really is, a sprinkle of delusion with a dash of lazy.

So today I packed. The same way I always do. I start out with good intentions and a desire to be both organized and efficient simultaneously. The results of my efforts can be summed up in one word: NOPE!
I quickly became convinced I had to try on everything I own. The results of this lengthy activity can be summed up with one thought. What happened to my ass?
No really, what the hell happened? Just last year it was spectacular. Did I sit on it weird? Also why is there a tan line at the top of the back of my thighs? There are little crescent shaped white patches right below my ass. Do my cheeks actually block the light when I'm tanning? Forget the dangers of tanning beds for a minute and focus. We're talking about my own personal lunar eclipse back there.

I know exactly how this happened. I tried dieting several times. Just the word diet sends me so far in the wrong direction. The Paleo fiasco was all about cutting out dairy and refined sugar. I ate four cheesecakes while on that diet. Four. I was only on that diet for three days. Then there was the low carb diet. Morning number one I dipped ten chocolate chip cookies in a pan of hollandaise sauce. It started out right. I made myself three eggs, just like the nutrition plan said. But the eggs looked so lonely and I thought just a little bit of hollandaise sauce wouldn't hurt. So I made some and drizzled it over the top. Just bending the rule at this point. Then I lost control and full throttle eggs Benedict was the only breakfast I would accept. But I had no muffins. So I did what any twisted individual would do. I used soft warm chocolate chip cookies. It was both disgusting and amazing. Mostly disgusting. Some people cheat on a diet. Sneak a soda, bite of cake, a handful of chips. I do so much more than cheat. If I try to ban any food at all. Even food I don't like, I go insane. Once I'm insane I don't just simply cheat, I shart in the face of all things culinary.

Umm back to the topic of packing. None of my clothes fit anymore. To be more accurate, all of them fit just fine but I have PMS so there is not even an ounce of me that is going to be even slightly agreeable. I have 15 swimsuits. Why? Because I'm a masochist. I also have fluorescent lighting and a full length mirror in my closet. This is not the only way I ridicule myself. For example, the following is a conversation I had with me. Don't worry it wasn't out loud.
Me: haha why did I pack work out clothes?
Me: I'm gonna work out every morning there is a great facility there and I'm finally in a routine
Me: I'm not going to work out even one time. I'm just going to sleep in those clothes. Look I didn't pack any pajamas because even I know I'm just going to sleep in those sweat pants.
Me: if I'm not going to work out then don't pack work out clothes.
Me: No way! I don't want that to be the excuse for not working out. If I bring my workout clothes and I still don't go to the gym I will be forced to admit I'm a lazy a$$#•le
Me: why are you always so mean to me?
Me: I'm sorry. Lets go buy some shoes.
Me: mmmmm shoes

In the end I have finally gathered all the clothes that will fit in my suitcase and I consider myself packed. I have no idea what I'm going to wear when I get there but I feel like I did a much better job packing than Gwen did. I just opened her suitcase and all she's bringing is moon boots and a spatula.