Showing posts from December, 2006

you say it's your birthday? it's my birthday too!

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

updated stats

STATS 17-Oct 2006 22-Nov 2006 23-Dec 2006 Weight 166 lbs. 166 lbs. 162 lbs. Body Fat 34.5% 33.5% 31% 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” Sit-ups 20 28 32 Push-ups 15 26 33 Pull-ups 15 29 23 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

warm as toast

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, w

alter this ego

I was ego-surfing this morning, and here are some things regarding my immense famousness that I think you'll want to check out: Get my autograph! Send me fan mail! See my extensive nationally-recognized TV credits! 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.)

... and a gun to go with it

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 a

cody vs. wallace & gromit

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, settl

next? a gun rack

"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. A

it's my party! i'll cry if i want to!

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. Finally ... 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; whateve

oh ... and my new profile icon?

That's my avatar in the rain. Love it or ... well, love it.

the old man is snoring, indeed

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

pretty pictures

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

oopsie doodle

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.

you are what you eat

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.

my head, pt. 2

What I think while I'm stationary biking for 30 minutes: 1 / 30 1 / 15 1 / 10 1 / 6 1 / 5 1 / 4 3 / 10 1 / 3 2 / 5 1 / 2 3 / 5 2 / 3 3 / 4 7 / 10 4 / 5 5 / 6 9 / 10 2 minutes 1 minute 45 seconds 30 seconds 15 seconds DONE! That's a little weird, right? Also kind of obsessive. At least my elementray school teachers might be proud of me.

welcome to my head

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.

get thee behind me

Oh, Cody - how can I lie to you? I ate a brownie this afternoon. It was delicious, but it was not worth it. UPDATE: 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.

these boots are made for walkin'

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.)

it's practically medieval

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.

why not?

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. I know . 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.

i may be vain, but i'm not proud

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?

may the force be with you

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 themselve