Tomorrow, Tomorrow…I Love Ya, Tomorrow!

The only thing standing between me and successfully surviving the 53 day challenge is getting out of bed tomorrow. THANK GOD!!! In light of a red sox game tomorrow night, my swan song for the challenge will have to be an hour power walk/run first thing in the morning. And after really cranking up the heat this past week in my workouts, that’s not going to be easy.

Nonetheless, tomorrow will officially be day 53 . And I’m proud to say that I only used 2 out of my three mulligans. So for sake of argument, Ipulled out 51 days of exercise. And you know what? I’m damn proud of that! I may only weigh one or two pounds less, but I feel differently. I might even look a bit differently in light of all of the different types of exercise I’ve been doing! And most importantly, I sacrificed and committed to something and put my health and self first above all else. And in a day and time when that is very difficult to do, I think it’s safe to say that that, in itself, is accomplishment enough.

And therein lies the reason for this challenge and this blog. Sure, it would have been great to wake up after 53 days 10 pounds lighter and just in time for summer. But there were bigger reasons behind doing this…I had things to prove to myself. And prove them I did!

Till tomorrow!

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Can I Count It?

I was so close! What am I? Five days away from achieving the 53 day challenge? And then I had to travel to Toronto. So yesterday I was up at 6:00 and it was a mad dash the remainder of the day and never saw sleep until midnight. How was I supposed to fit the workout in!?!?

But here’s my theory. I may just have exercised and met the requirement based on my travel companion. When I tell you this man sprints for his walking pace…he literally sprints. And after many sprints across Toronto at an ungodly pace (I wore flats because I knew this would be an issue), I think maybe I can claim a near-workout. Sweat was involved. Panting was present. Exhaustion, check.

What do you guys think?

Observations from the Elliptical

There are things I find really funny about my new gym. Funny might even be strong statement. As much as I love it, there are actually a few odd if not maddening things that I witness in the locker-room, the lobby and even from atop the Elliptical. So given I’m really overdue for my blog, I figured I’d re-engage with everyone’s favorite…a top (not 10) 7 list.

 Top 7 Observations from a Girl that Hates to Love the Sports Club

1. What’s the deal with baggy underwear? Well, lots of women at the gym have baggy underwear. My recommendation would be to get off the treadmill and eat something when your underwear is baggy.

2. Is it brighter in the executive locker room than it is the ‘generic’ locker room? Because every woman that comes out of that mysterious place is wearing extremely large, dark sunglasses. And it’s not as if they’re walking outside! They have three large halls to walk down as well as a turn-style and an elevator to tackle. What are they hiding!?

3. Why is there even an executive locker room to begin with!? Isn’t one of the nicest gyms in Boston enough niceness for you guys? Do you have to further segregate yourselves with another password protected, cloudy glass door. What gives? They handing out cookies in there too?

4. And now that I’m thinking about sunglasses, what’s with those few that wear sunglasses on the treadmill? And while lifting weights. Oh right, they had a deviated septum

5. I always thought I’d go broke from eating too many dinners out. I now know that the smoothies at Sports Club are what’s going to break this bank.

6. Swine Flu fear is clearly on overdrive. When I see people working out with rubber gloves I wonder what reality I’m loving in. 

7. Am I really a shy person? I think I might be…or the towels in this place are absurdly small! When I first joined I was thrilled when the woman said, ‘Take as many towels as you’d like!’ Well there’s a reason! I need at least three to cover myself to a point of decency!

Till tomorrow! (really, tomorrow)

Muscle Head

I don’t know what it is but I just can’t get my head or my hand around the size of these biceps as you all heard from my prior post.

And you know what I’ve decided. I am over the killer trainer. On Saturday a good friend and I checked in for our appointment with him. She had a stiff back and well, I had a long night prior. So neither of us were too keen on a killer workout and he was not too keen on our laziness.

In fact, to spite my friend’s repeated explanation that she had lower back pain, he brought on additional weight. I finally had to tell her that he was making her lift more weight than me…and I am pain free.

Dumb muscle head. That’s what I say! So my eating has been a tad off the mark. I’ve not seen a significant enough change. And when I am greeted with grief when I’m not feeling too well, then I am O-U-T. I’m not paying him all of this money to make me feel bad about myself…particularly when what I signed up for were private sessions and I’ve slowly been folded into groups.

And let’s face it, every since I joined Sports Club, going to ‘the other gym’ is like a nightmare. I mean where are the cotton balls!? The eucalyptus steam room! Towel service! Smoothies! And even more important, where are my LEAN muscles.

I’m going to head over to Sports Club now to see if I can find them.

Rip the Tags Out. They Mean Nothing.

Size. Every girl’s worst nightmare.

Well, I had an eye opening experience at Macy’s tonight. After kicking off the golf season last Sunday in boring black pants, I decided I realized I needed a good ole pair of khaki pants. So after a really amazing class at Sports Club, I grabbed a smoothie and went bargain hunting at Macy’s. Mother’s Day sale. I’m not a mother but I definitely don’t mind borrowing the benefits.

I was actually very impressed with what I was able to find. 10 different kinds of khaki, a bunch of blue pants which I thought might also be a good golf option, and super looking pair of blue and white sear suckers. (OK, all of you that are laughing, I do tend to get a liiiitle preppy in summer!! I admit it!) I must have had 20 pairs of pants in 3 different sizes.

Needless to say, not one pair of pants fit me. Too tapered, too long, too short, waist too big, rise too short, pockets too large. I finally gave up on every size six, eight, and ten I brought into the dressing room and looking at the sear suckers tossed to the side and threw them on. Hey, not bad! I like these! They’re the last thing I need and not what I came for but after all that effort I wanted to leave with something.

But here’s the kicker. Size 4. Give me a break! I haven’t seen size 4 since I was 12 years old. I am a solid 8/10, no two ways about it. It’s no wonder women hate to shop. If I’m going to buy any more pants in the near future, I’m going to have to give up the 53 day challenge to fit it in.

By the way, 31 DAYS DOWN! 22 to GO. Stay tuned tomorrow when I chime in on the real reason for this blog as Mr. Finance has requested some clarity.

Olive You, Olive You NOT!

I am breaking up with olives. Or I should say I’ve broken up with olives?

I know…its been days since I’ve been able to blog but lets just say I’ve had a few epiphanies while I’ve been gone.

1. The 53 Day challenge is not a license to pig out. And yes, I was pigging out I think. I feel as though I’m sacrificing so much that I’m making up for it at the dinner table. As one not so famous man once said, its time to give those elbows a workout and push yourself away from the table!

2. I am gaining weight. And I do appreciate all of you that have said I”m running my yap unnecessarily about this, but I have gained five pounds since starting this challenge. Enough is enough I say.

3. Thy salad bar is thy own private hell. I thought I had mastered it. I religiously stay away from the dressings, the noodles, and OH those delectable bacon bits!  I even use only balsamic vinegar! But lately, I think I’ve been going a tad bit overboard on the goat cheese and cranberries. Not to mention those yummy little marinated black olives. I could live on those things! Sorry Olive. Olive you no more! I’m reverting back to the good old turkey sando.

4. And last but not least, there is a reason I’ve gone on Weight Watchers three times. Because I need to watch not only my weight, but what’s going into my mouth. So I’m back on it. There is no reason I can’t maintain hard workouts while doing Weight Watchers. I will never be that girl that can eat whatever I want. So while I will not obsess, I will pray to the WW gods and I will record what I eat!

Only 20 some days left. I gotta make ‘em count.

I Am Not A Bulging Bride

I admit it. I am a bit of trash TV addict. I’m not talking about Jerry Springer, Montel Williams Judge Brown. I’m talking really good, girly garbage like Gossip Girls, The Hills and best of all…self improvement shows like What Not To Wear. My latest flavor of the month is Bulging Brides.

Here’s the concept. One featured girl on the verge of tying the knot tries on her wedding dress. As they lace up, zip up and button up, you know immediately there isn’t a chance this white beauty is going to fit. But just in time the bride and her nearest and dearest are bum-rushed by a personal trainer and nutritionist who inform the soon to be betrothed that she has no choice…it’s diet and excersize time. She’s got six weeks to lose the weight so she can fit into her dress.

But here comes the best part…the measurements. At the beginning of the show, this poor girl goes through the public humiliation of being measured on national television in nothing more than spandex shorts (WHAT!? No way, not me, not ever!!!) and a sports bras. Every three weeks, she checks in for new measurements and of course, by the time the show ends, she glows with happiness as inches have melted off her bust, waist and hips. She fits beautifully into the dress.

Well, I had my own ‘Bulging B ride’ experience the other day when ‘the killer’ reminded me I too needed to get measured! The last time we did this was back in January. Granted, that was right after the holidays and an extended vacation but I knew this was not going to be good.

So here’s the bad news. After having a personal trainer and working out quite aggressively since January (nevermind the 53 day challenge!), I hadn’t lost even a fraction of an inch my waist, hips or bust. Oh but wait! The good news. I lost 1/4 of an inch! On my…

NECK!!!

May what!? My neck!? Who cares about the size of your neck! It was at that moment that I was wishing I was having an experience just a bit closer to those bulging brides I honestly almost feel like giving up!

Bubble Head?

Have you ever heard someone describe themselves as feeling like a ‘bubble head?’ Because that’s how I’ve felt all weekend and it’s awful! And by bubble head I don’t mean “goofball” or “airhead.” I mean that I feel almost as if my head isn’t attached to my body. It’s hard to focus, I feel tired, my limbs is tingly, my eyes won’t open…I think my lungs might even hurt a little bit!

For those of you that don’t know, I used to be a pretty ’sickly’ person…ALWAYS getting sick. So I know how I feel when I’m getting sick and this is not it. If you’re reading this you’ve probably already diagnosed me. But I refuse to believe it. I do not have…

ALLERGIES!?!?!?!?

Please weigh in because it had completely ruined my weekend. I’ve never had allergies before! What do I need Zyrtec, or Zycam or one of those Z pills?? Whatever it is, I need it fast because I’m staring down a huge work week next week…And even more so, I have a date this afternoon with my yoga mat and right now I can’t even fathom getting off my bed, much less rocking any ‘warrior’ poses.

 

Help!?

Getting the Job Done While Looking Ridiculous

This blog has been nothing but crickets this week. But that’s not to say I haven’t stuck to the program. Aside from the taxes debacle, I am 20 days going strong. And while it has been a tough week in many ways, I’ve found myself looking forward to, and needing, my workouts. Especially yesterday…

So Friday afternoon I headed to my new favorite place…wait for it…LA Sports Club…determined to burn off some steam. The greatest thing about this place is that there are three to five different classes going on at once, so there’s always something to jump into.

I started out with ‘Definitions’ which was an hour dedicated to using a million different kind of weights and moving them in very precise motions to target all of those ‘hidden’ muscles that elude us all. But after it was over, I really didn’t feel any better. I didn’t feel like I had really sweat the week out. But as I was running this through my mind, I noticed a few people were hanging around in the studio talking about dance.

Dance? That sounds fun?

But as gregarious as I am, I DO NOT like looking like a complete fool. So I did a little sanity check with the lingering girls. “Don’t worry about! We are ALL bad! No one knows what they’re doing. But it is SO MUCH FUN.” Ok, I’m in!

Well let me just cut to the chase. The next hour I felt like I was in a rehearsal for a Britney Spears video…right down to the shouting “4,3,2,1…” There were high kicks, hip hop moves, cha chas…I think there were even some pole dancing moves or something! Needless to say, as we built up to full blown dance routines and I broke out into a drenched sweat, I laughed harder and harder. So hard in fact that the instructor danced his way over to me and said…

“I love that you are having so much fun! You must know how ridiculous you look…How ridiculous we all look!”

Ridiculous. Ok, I can live with that. I definitely did look ridiculous. But my god did I have a good time. And if I can laugh my way through a work out and still get one, I’m definitely going back for more. Even though I can’t even walk today.

When The IRS Comes Calling, You Get Off The Treadmill

Mulligan!

It is 6:45 and I am sitting on the couch. I cannot tell you how unbelievable it feels to come home directly after work. Only two weeks of conditioning myself not to do this yet it’s already become a habit. Do I feel guilt? Actually I do. But I can’t get hung up on it – I’m allowed three mulligans! And my taxes aren’t done!!!

If I were smart, I would have addressed this two months ago when my Dad called and specifically asked that I have someone professionally prepare these. Apparently there’s something rather complicated involved this year. 

Well, on Sunday while I sat on the couch downing (more) chocolate eggs at the Easter festivities, I dialed up the H&R Block website like I have in year’s past, and got to work. The really cool thing about H&R Block’s TaxCut service is that it keeps track of how far through the submission process you are. 10%, 20%…I watched it tally up. It’s when I got to the 70% point that panic set in.

I was steps away from finishing but I still had a huge stack of paperwork that hadn’t been accounted for!?! (thank god Dad is out of the country and not reading this – he would not be laughing right now).

After several $20 queries to H&R Block, I now feel prepared to revisit the tax issue with only mere hours to spare. So here I sit, ready to jump into to taxes rather than onto the treadmill. But I’m taking solace in the fact that I made it 15 days in a row before needing this mulligan. And not to mention that Federal law is requiring it