Today is my birthday. I was exactly 36 years old as of 3:16am EST. Thanks Mom & Dad!!
Check this out ... I find it fascinating, considering my posts (& comments) of the last week:
for December 28th, 2006:
Your sins are pretty mild, Capricorn. Still, you have from time to time violated some of your own highest standards; you have on occasion failed to live with impeccable ethical integrity. That's the bad news. The good news is that in 2007 you will have the best chance ever to atone for past mistakes. If done well, your corrective actions will win you a permanent vacation from the hell that those mistakes have sometimes trapped you in.
=>from Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology
Today is my birthday. I was exactly 36 years old as of 3:16am EST. Thanks Mom & Dad!!
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 9:29 AM
|STATS||17-Oct 2006||22-Nov 2006||23-Dec 2006|
|Weight||166 lbs.||166 lbs.||162 lbs.|
|Fat Mass / Lean Mass||57 lbs. / 109 lbs.||55.5 lbs. / 110.5 lbs.||50 lbs / 112 lbs.|
|TESTS||17-Oct 2006||22-Nov 2006||23-Dec 2006|
|Sit & Reach||9”||1’2”||1'3”|
|T-test||14.97 seconds||14.22 seconds||13.62 seconds|
|Plank||59 seconds||1 min. 22 sec.||1 min. 45 sec.|
Hooray me! Everything was improved ... EXCEPT for the pull-ups. Why was that number worse than last month? I don't know. I'm going to arbitrarily blame it on the socks I was wearing.
New guidelines for me this month:
=>Only one "sweet" every 3rd day (which equals = any empty calorie treat, not necessarily only sweets).
=>At least 64 oz. of water every day.
=>When I drink alcohol, only consume 1 drink per evening. (Who's got the best pour in the city? I'll start going there.)
=>Cardio 3x/week. (This I'm already doing most weeks.)
=>Cheese only once a day. (How did he talk me into that?!)
=>Greater general body awareness.
I'm pretty friggin' pleased. Lost 7 lbs. of fat since I started, which is a net loss of 4 lbs. I do not think I'll make my goal weight of 156 by the end of January, but I'll get as close as I can.
I am a cold, cold person. When winter rolls around, I haven't been warm since 1994. Which is when I moved to the Emerald City. I mean, it's not super cold here; but it's not the cold, it's the humidity. It was way colder in DC ... but it was a dry cold. The chill here sinks into the bones and makes you feel old.* Coldilocks, that's what my ex-husband (my "first draft", as we like to say) used to call me.
Until this year! This winter has been magically warm inside my skin, and I think I owe it to my personal trainer. That must be it, right? Nothing else has changed. Working out makes you warm! And skinnier! Who knew? (I'm guessing a lot of you knew, and I'm mad at you for not telling me.) I will sincerely try not to proselytize too much about my new fitness regimen, but it may be the single best change I've made in my life in the arm's reach of my memory.
*I'm not some kind of trendsetter by remarking on this phenomenon; in fact, we don't ever get friggin' sick of talking about it. That and the fucking traffic. Seriously, Seattlites. SHUT. IT. (Except for you, Egg ... you can talk all you want. Why, thank you! You're welcome.)
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 8:58 AM
I was ego-surfing this morning, and here are some things regarding my immense famousness that I think you'll want to check out:
Also, I have never acted better than in this segment. (Be patient - I'm the last to arrive, but it is WORTH IT. Take notes, bitches.)
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 10:57 AM
I was re-reading this post, and the comments, and I realized that I'd be ashamed and embarrassed if my bosses read it. Not because I'm chicken (I'm not), nor because I said things I didn't mean (I didn't). I intended to be humorously snarky, but I just sounded like an ass (to myself at least). Because I called them out when I really should have called myself out. I used them as examples of an issue I've personally been struggling with. What does it mean to be politically liberal? I know many of the definitions, that's not what I mean. But how do I manifest it in my daily life? Do I choose to spend my money at businesses that act in accordance with my beliefs? Do I leave my car at home whenever possible? Do I always recycle, even when it's a pain in the ass?
Well, I have given up some things that I enjoy(ed), but usually only when it's not inconvenient to me. Like I gave up McDonald's fast food. Primarily I gave it up because of environmental and worker-treatment related issues. But I still ate at Taco Bell. Why? Well I had some reasons based on false assumptions (which have since been proven false, big surprise), but mainly it was because I didn't really like McDonald's and I really like Taco Bell. It wasn't a hardship.
Okay - here's another one that pains me. I loved LOVED Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers in high school and collage. I got off of them after that, but now I'm on a kick again. I wanted some pairs. Well, in looking for where I could buy some, I came across the fact that they're now owned and produced by Nike (am I the only one that didn't know this)? I actually love Nike shit, but have flat out refused to support that company for ages. So, of course, upon learning this fact, what I did was ... I went out and bought the Chucks anyway. Yeah - 2 pairs. Why? Because I really wanted them. I love them. Kinda. I'm also kinda sad about them. Because I can't claim I didn't know any better. I did know better. So I made a choice to break a long-standing boycott that I was quietly proud of so that I could have some sneakers. So the price of my conviction was about $60. Yay me.
My bosses don't read my blog, but I offer up a public apology. It's always easier to judge others than self-examine. They were a superficial symbol for my growing dissatisfaction with my own actions. When I say I believe a thing, but continue to behave in a contrary manner, where does that leave me? Am I liberal only in conversation and when I vote? Or do I live consciously by making choices I'm not embarrassed by? It's not about SUVs or Chuck Taylor Converse or McDonald's. It's indicative of a larger slippery slope. It's about aligning my actions with my beliefs.
I no longer eat at any of the major fast food chains. I try hard to support local businesses instead of huge corporations. I'm not going to get rid of my Chucks, though - I really do love them.
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 7:45 PM
Here's the deal --- Cody doesn't want me to eat cheese. WTF?! I know, right? It's the most impossible thing he asks of me, and he asks a lot of impossible things. Like, "Do 75 crunches," or "Don't cry or throw up on the mat." But to not eat cheese. Excuse me, my head just exploded.
Here's how I currently incorporate this into my life ... I kind of ignore him and eat it anyway. Isn't that horrible? I suppose I have cut back just so I don't have to lie as often. I am totally kidding, of course - I never lie. (To Cody.) But so that I don't have to feel guilty about it. Well, that's not even true. I don't actually even feel guilty; but I feel awkward about not feeling guilty, so that's something.
Here's what I'm going to do: I've decided that I'm going to lure him over to the dark side of cheese. That way he'll encourage cheese-eating to the point that I'll have to say to him, "Whoa, dude, settle down on the cheese."
"IT'S MY BOSS' CAR! I SWEAR!! IT'S NOT MINE!"
I was running an errands for my boss this afternoon. She's not the type of boss who would actually ask her assistant to run errands. I practically begged her to let me so that she'd have an hour or two in her office (unheard of) to whittle down her completely overwhelming to-do list before she goes out of town tomorrow. So if you saw me driving around town this afternoon in an SUV, allow me to repeat: It's my boss' car.
And if you see me driving around this next week in a different SUV ... that's my other boss' car! I'm housesitting for his family while they're away, and they graciously allow me to drive their vehicle when I need it ... except that's it's an SUV.
Let's say I'm not an SUV kinda gal. Except that when I drove one for the first time, I was all like, "Oooh, man. I could get used to this!" It was comfortable. COMFORTABLE comfortable. Like butter. And finally, I could see everything around me while driving, because of course I drive a small car and I usually can't see due to all the SUVs and huge-ass trucks. It was ... well, kinda nice.
So I see the appeal, but I have a few questions:
1. Why do my bosses (or my parents, for that matter) drive these machines? By all other accounts, these people are good, upstanding, card-carryiong money-where-their-mouths-are liberals (thank god). Can you be a liberal and drive an SUV? Are liberals, by proxy, environmentalists? Discuss.
2. Does anyone else remember when they were first becoming popular and they were called "sport utes" or just "utes" (pronounced yoot, short for utility)?
3. By a wide margin, the most commonly suggested sketch idea that "BFL* should totally do" was Law & Order: SUV. I know that's not a question, but I just thought of it.
*I doubt there's any reason to explain this, since I think everyone who reads this I have either slept with or wanted to* --- but BFL is Bald Faced Lie, a sketch group I was in in Seattle from circa 1995-2005. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. We were funny. RIP.
*Do I even need to explain that's a joke?
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 2:08 PM
Sample # 1 ...
Cody: Okay, next you're going to do [fill in the blank]
Me (with extreme dubiousness): You're kidding. Seriously?
Sample #2 ...
Me: Oh my god. I don't think I can do this, Cody.
Cody: You say that everytime; c'mon!
Me: Yeah, but this time I really mean it.
(This repeats about 3-4x/session, and I'm completely serious every single time. For some reason, he doesn't believe me.)
My sessions are filled with cussing and groaning and strange pterodactyl-like noises that somehow make me feel better. And humming. Humming fools me into thinking I'm calm and in control. I swear, I must seem like some CrAzY cAt LaDy*. Luckily I have lost all regard and self-consciousness for how I appear to others while in the gym.
Me: Does anyone complain as much as me?
Cody: I'm not going to answer that.
(HA! This cracks me up the most.)
*This makes me remember that I told Cody that I used let my cat eat of my mouth. (I know - gross; whatever.) I mean it's true, but why in the world would I say it? It's freakin' hilarious how my defenses drop when I'm at the gym. Working out apparently makes me giddy. And crazy. Oh, and totally hot.
Holy key-riced. Seattlites are no pussies when it comes to rain, but that shit last night was UN. BUH. LIEVable. I mean, let's perspectivize this ... it's no national disaster. But it was nuts --- take a look at these photos. Or these. 4 deaths have been linked to the flash flooding & high winds. One woman was trapped in her windowless basement and couldn't get out because the force of the water blocked the door. That is not cool. I can't think about it too hard, or I want to cry.
I had it easy. I left work early at about 3:45p for my personal training session, and while the bus was a little late, traffic wasn't too bad that early (even considering the Hawks game). And of course, it was only reasonable rain at that point. Halfway from work to lower Queen Anne, the floodgates of heaven opened and got stuck. I have never seen rain like that here, and maybe not even back east. Walking just 2 blocks from the bus to the gym, I had to cross Taylor Ave. (at the eastside bottom of QA Hill), and it was a river. A very shallow river, but FAST and up to my ankles. Good-bye, brown leather shoes. I really liked you while I had you.
While working out, Cody & I kept looking out at the gridlocked traffic, and kept seeing the same cars for almost the whole hour. The gym is about a block away from 99, 1/2-mi. north of the Mercer tunnel/underpass. Which was flooded. Those pictures I linked too above have some amazing shots of cars submerged up to the windows. CrAzY, dude.
So I figured my normal bus wasn't coming, and I sloshed up to Seattle Center to catch a more direct bus, and hopefully get luckier further away from 99. As I round the corner, not even half a block from the bus stop ... the #2 is pulling away. "Fuck!" I mutter, and then "Oh, hooray!" Because the bus had just nosed it's way into the flow of cars, but no further -- because the traffic was craptastic and the light had just turned red. YAY! So I run up, and knock on the door. The driver doesn't hear me. I take my gloves off and knock again. And a third. Finally, on the 4th knocking, he barely turns his head to me and shakes it. No. He's not letting me on the bus. Even though he's completely stopped, not even out of the bus zone, AND his coach was HALF EMPTY. Asshat. And yes, I did get the coach number. Fuckwad.
So I took the next bus. 65 minutes later. Normally I would have walked up QA hill. Not a joy, but not too bad since I started getting fit. However, I was loaded down with packages that I'd cleverly had delivered to my work instead of home. Fucking yeah. Awesome. Way to go.
No power at our place today, nor at about a million other residences. I'm at work. Warm and dry, but unshowered. Could be worse. Could be much, much worse.
I hope you are all safe & warm.
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 12:28 PM
I vow to get back to the roadtrip journal postings. However! in the meantime, I finally finished captioning our photos. If you have an yen, why don'tcha mosey on over and take a look. Try not to be jealous. Road Trip 2006
I thought this might happen. I changed my template to take advantage of Blogger Beta, and lost all my comments. (Don't worry, Bloggersters, it almost certainly won't happen to you; I was using a hack for my comments, not the Blogger-approved template. Shame on me.) Anyway, since I anticipated this, I copied & saved all of your comments, my 3(ish) faithful readers! Yay me! Slowly but surely I will be adding the comments back, one by one. Why? Because if you care enough to comment, I care enough. It's that simple. I care. About you.
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 10:33 PM
If you have any odd desire -- well, any desire at all, odd or not -- to see what I eat (!), then go here:
I've made my food diary public. It feels weird. Now you know far more intimate things about me than I'll probably ever know about you, whoever you are. Unless you want to share a secret with me in the comments section. C'mon, seriously, I won't tell anyone.
What I think while I'm stationary biking for 30 minutes:
1/30That's a little weird, right? Also kind of obsessive.
At least my elementray school teachers might be proud of me.
What I think while I'm working out with Cody:
"Why the hell do I pay for this misery? This is horrible!!"What I think right after I'm done:
"That wasn't so bad; maybe I'll come back."What I think inbetween sessions:
"I can't wait to go back!"Rinse, repeat.
Oh, Cody - how can I lie to you? I ate a brownie this afternoon. It was delicious, but it was not worth it.
I made up for the brownie by not eating dinner, so that's good! And then I drank too much, and that really worked out really great for me. (For those of you who don't know me, you may notice my sarcastic tendencies.)
I really only truly regret the 2nd whiskey. Oh, and the not eating dinner. Oops, and the smoking.
Boy, I sure fell off the wagon, didn't I? And then it ran over me.
I found this great site that uses Google maps and turns it into a mileage calculator for walking (or running, I suppose, but I sincerely doubt you'll catch me secretly tabulating the miles I plan to jog). Enter your location, double-click your starting point, and double-click your way through the map, marking your journey. It makes you want to walk places! (Kinda.)
I realized that my monthly eval stats don't mean anything unless you know exactly what I am put through
- Sit & Reach: This tests, what? Flexibility, I guess. Sitting with legs straight out in front of you, heels on the ground about a foot apart. You lean down in between and stretch your hands as far down the measuring tape as you can.
- Sit-ups: # sit-ups in 1 minute
- Push-ups: # push-ups in 1 minute (on the knee push-ups, but still …)
- Pull-ups: # pull-ups in 1 minute (assisted pull-ups, meaning I’m under the bar, leaning at a 45% angle with my feet on the ground)
- T-test: Best time out of three. A sprinting thing between cones set up in a T-formation; reminds me of football practice. (Ya know, back when I played ball before my knee injury.)
- The Plank: A truly hateful Pilates-ish ab exercise; horrifyingly deceptive.
And there you have it; my monthly torture test.
Considering the sporadic and frequently infrequent nature of my posting on this blog, this may seem nuts. NUTS! But I have a second blog now.
But! My new blog is specifically dedicated to my personal training regimen: health & well-being; weight loss; strength & stamina building; the trials & tribulations, the occasional crying jags & rage; and last (but certainly not least), the weird conversations Cody & I have while he's kicking my ass.
scrambled by Peggy Gannon at 9:16 AM
Here's the workout I went through last Saturday. Before you watch it, you just have to know this --- every single thing you see is way harder than it appears. That's how Cody tricks me into doing things.
Full disclosure: Cody had videoed a workout once before but he said we couldn't use it, because "You weren't smiling." Yeah, no shit. Gee, I wonder why. In between the agony, the lack of breath, and my pleas to simply kill me quickly - who's got time to smile?
The are always several complicated and often contrary motivations hanging out inside my psyche at any given time. I suppose we're all like that, right? I mean, human beings are a complicated species. Well, screw celebrity deathmatch - getting in shape pits two longtime archrivals in the fight of the century; two sides of the force fighting to gain control of my soul ... my innate love of comfort against my vanity. Currently, vanity is trumping laziness. Yay me. Yes, Carly Simon, I do think that song is about me.
At the first session, Cody talked to me about my goals. I was all like, "I wanna be able to kick ass. And also, HOT." I mean, duh. But he forced me to get specific. Which I absolutely recommend for others, but which I don't love to do myself. I know it works; it's old school time-tested. Again and again, you see the people who succeed are the ones who are specific about what they want to achieve and who draft up a mission statement of sorts for themselves. Well, la-di-dah, good for them, but dude! it's just awkward. There are all sorts of things that I want and that I believe, but I don't say it OUT LOUD. C'mon! It's embarrassing. But the last photo I saw of myself was embarrassing, too; so! I sucked it up and did it. Besides, I'm too old and determined to be shy about that shit anymore.
MY PERSONAL TRAINING MISSION STATEMENT:
=>In 3 months (*basically by the end of Jan 07), I will weigh 156 lbs, and my body fat will be at 30%. My target body parts are my waist, thighs, and ass (*Cody translated that into "glutes," the cutie-pie, but I know I said ass). I will wake up in the morning and not feel achy and weak.
=>I will be able to accomplish these things by working out 3x/week (with Cody), swimming 2x/week, going to bed earlier, eating out less, decreasing drinking, and quitting smoking. (*He claims I said I was going to give up eating out & drinking, but if I did, I was drunk when I said it.)
=>By acheiving these goals, I will be able to control my body in a way that will improve my acting. My patience will improve. I will be able to do any activity I wish.
=>I am ready to change, for good.
Then there's a whole evaluation circuit, to set a baseline and chart the (hopefully) improvement. I did the same thing approximately a month later.
Here are my stats when I started and at my first month re-eval:
|STATS||17-Oct 2006||22-Nov 2006|
|Weight||166 lbs.||166 lbs.|
|Fat Mass / Lean Mass||57 lbs. / 109 lbs.||55.5 lbs. / 110.5 lbs.|
|TESTS||17-Oct 2006||22-Nov 2006|
|Sit & Reach||9”||1’2”|
|T-test||14.97 seconds||14.22 seconds|
|Plank||59 seconds||1 min. 22 sec.|
Everything greatly improved except my weight. And that's because I freakin' love food. LOVE. IT. Can't get enough. Guess what my goal is for this month.
Seriously, though. It was only a bit over a month, and I was shocked at the improvement. I was really proud. Enough for now, but I tell you later how this all affects my day-to-day world.
Oh, also, I'm 36 years old, and a stage actress. See ya later!