The Beachbody Dynasty

I know you are all waiting on pins and needles to see what kind of workout I'm doing this time around.  Have you ever seen the cartoon saying things on Facebook and other social media, you the ones that have vintage looking people drawn with funny little notes?? I'm not cool enough to know what they are really called, but you know what I am talking about. Anyways, I saw one the other day that said, "No one wants to hear about your workout unless you fell off the treadmill." I got a good chuckle from that one. I didn't laugh until I cried or anything, but it was worth at least a smiling smirk. I, however, assume that you are here reading this because you do want to hear about my workout. If you don't, I'm sure there are 75 million other blogs out there that might interest you.

Here goes nothing... Remember when I was insane and did Insanity??? Well, as it turns out, I really like Shaun T. If it weren't for our many differences (he's fit, I'm not, he's a city kid, I'm not, he is famous, I'm not, the list goes on) I would probably be begging to have his babies. His workouts are work. That is the number one thing I look for in a workout, don't you? Sometimes when he is just warming things up you think to yourself this isn't so bad. That is a mistake, a very big mistake. He is also encouraging. He never puts me down for not being able to something (Tony Horton, I mean you). Right now I am doing T25. I was lured in by the thought of only working out for 25 minutes a day. Let's face it, 25 minutes is actually an hour by the time you find, and begrudgingly put on, your workout clothes, round up a water bottle, hit play, watch the Shakeology commercial at the start of every DVD, workout, cool down, spend enough time lollygagging around that you finally stop sweating and can go take a shower, a 25 minute workout is at least an hour, or more. I know, I know, what's an hour of your day if it means being healthy and fit. Well, quite frankly, it's a lot. I know I am not the only person with a busy life. Everybody has something going on that keeps them from devoting the time that they should to their health. So, here I am trying out T25. Here is the vast difference between T25 and Insanity. There are NO breaks. That's right, there are absolutely NO breaks. My legs are shaking almost daily with the non-stop action of T25. Here is the second major difference... In Shaun T's videos there is always this chic named Tanya. I hated her in Insanity. My hatred for Tanya was the only thing that kept me going some days. She seemed smug. Everything was just so easy for her. And about halfway through I convinced myself that she was Shaun T's girlfriend. She was after my man. Oh, HELL no! In T25 Tanya is still there. Always at Shaun T's side. Tanya is my new best friend. I love her. I wouldn't be able to do this without her. See, Tanya is the modifier. There are days I have a hard time keeping up with her. But if she wasn't there low impacting the workout for me, I might have quit after day two. Life lesson learned, never judge people, you don't when you might need them. Today is the start of week 3 of T25. I'm gonna kill it, I just know it... Pffffft. Who invented the burpee anyways? Last week I also ordered Hip Hop Abs. Stifle your laughter. It was on sale. I am sucker for a sale. I have no rhythm and no abs. It promises me both of those things. Shaun T has his work cut out for him.

It seems that I am loyal to the Beachbody crew. I have P90X (good workout, hate Tony Horton), Insanity, T25, coming soon Hip Hop Abs. My best friend has Chalene Johnson's workouts. I know that it is hard to want to support these sculpted, fitness millionaires, but in all honesty, they kinda have it figured out. Their eating plans are not drastic, they are reasonable, unfortunately, just a little more reasonable than I would like. Their exercise routines are challenging, but not undoable. I'm not advocating one over another, I'm just saying that I have to do something. They took all the thinking right out of it for me. I get up, I look at their calendar, and they tell me, "Hey stupid, today is cardio day", or, "Lucky you, we are doing lower body today." I don't have to do the planning, they have it all ready to go. I am willing to pay for that. And, in the long run, it is a lot cheaper for me to shake my fat in the comfort of my own home than it is to go shake it in front of a bunch of strangers at the gym. I guess all I am saying is that it doesn't matter what you do, as long as you do something. I can be preachy like that, I have been working out forever (two whole weeks).

Fat Miranda Lambert

Today is my day off on the workout schedule. So, if you were looking for a post about me whining over my jiggling midsection, or my jiggling rear end, or my jiggling ear lobes, or my jiggling EVERYTHING, come back tomorrow.

I am on winter break from school. Yeah me! This means I am finding something for myself to do. I have a hard time sitting still. You would think that would lend itself to a high metabolism and a rockin bod, WRONG. Any-who, I am redoing my bedroom. Like a total overhaul. I need some instant gratification in my life. Obviously the workout gig is a long-term investment to see results kind of thing. When in doubt, paint something. I am painting, installing new flooring, painting the dresser, and hanging stuff on the walls. My bedroom is only 85 square feet. I only mention this because I don't want you to think I am one of those freaks on PBS that can redo an entire house in one afternoon.

As with any good undertaking, the first step is getting organized. The pile of clothes at the foot of my bed that I have been working out of for the past 6-8 months does not scream "organized". The reason they are piled up is that my closet is full of cute clothes. Scratch that, cute, skinny, clothes. I have clothes that range from size 5 to size 20. This means that I have ranged from size 5 to size 20. Take a second to think about that. I have dropped and ballooned to those sizes 3 times in my life. And, lucky me, I have the next two weeks to reflect on that. Pffffft (fart noise, thumbs down). So, the past few days have been spent organizing clothes. Getting rid of stuff that I will NEVER wear again. Packing away stuff that doesn't fit. Hanging up stuff that does. Now, if I am being realistic, do I really think that I am ever going to be a size 5 again. Nope. Sure don't. Did I toss any of those size 5 clothes. Nope. Sure didn't. How's that for an altered sense of reality??? I have a lot of clothes. More than I realized. A lot more. There are some select people that are benefitting from this. Many of them shop at Goodwill. If I think something is really cute, I place it in a good home that has a healthy sense of fashion.

This all sounds like I am some kind of fashionista. If you met me personally you would know that I am about the most low maintenance person on the planet. I cut my own hair for crying out loud. I have however been told once or twice that I do have a nice sense of style. I translate this to mean, "Hey, good job camouflaging your fat!!" I had this idea earlier this summer... I would like to open a boutique called Fat Miranda Lambert. I like her style, for the most part. It is a little hippy, meets a little country, with a touch of glamour thrown in for good measure. Plus she has tattoos, I dig that. With her recent weight loss triumphs she would probably fit the end of my closet that I just packed up, the elusive size 5's. I would love to offer clothing that gives plus size gals the same options as the not-so-plus-size gals (kudos to me for not saying skinny bitches (earmuffs)). I would like to have cowboy boots that I can wear with leggings that have some wiggle room around my fat calves. I would like to have tank tops that don't have arm pits open half way down my side. You know, so I can actually just wear a tank top and a bra in the summer. Not two tank tops and a bra. Speaking of bras, I would like one that accommodates the fact that I am big ribbed and small boobed. Right now all I can wear is sports bras (insert SEXY) because they don't really make a 40A. I would like to have a jacket that fits around my waist but isn't so tight in the shoulders that I can't shake my finger at someone when I need to emphasize something. I would like shapewear (aka Spanx) that takes less than 20 minutes to wrestle myself into. Is this too much to ask??? I would like to think that Miranda Lambert would be ok with the name of my store, being a former fat chick with a great sense of humor and the ablility to laugh at herself. We should all aspire to be as healthy looking, and actually healthy, as she is now. But until then, can't we at least be comfortable???  I'll let you know how the lawsuit shakes out.

Look out world... I'm fat and I'm back!!

Hey... Do you ever sit there and wonder to yourself... "What the heck ever happened to Funny Fat Chic?? Did she get all skinny and abandon us??" WRONG. Dead wrong. What happened is I got fat, AGAIN, got embarrassed AGAIN, and THEN abandoned you. So, you can put that little bit of seething distaste that you had for me away because you thought that I was out there looking good.

So, here is where we are at today. Over the past year I have managed to put a good amount of weight back on. I don't think I have put quite all of it on. But I refuse to step on a scale, so that could just be the denial talking. I gained most of it in the early part of the year, so let's say that I have been holding steady for about 6 months. I had some other MAJOR life changes as well. Here is a list... You know 'cause around here at the Final Fifty (or 60... or 85... whatever) we love ourselves a list.

1. I am a part-time photographer. I don't think I quite had that off the ground when I was writing you before. It has become a pretty vital part of my life. To the point that it is now, currently my main source of income. Which leads me to change #2.

2. I quit my day job. I just up and quit my day job. I was a large animal technician at an exclusively horse hospital. I say exclusively, but I have been party to working on alpacas, llamas, camels, cows, deer, elk, kangaroos, zebras, and the list goes on. I know if there are any animal lovers out there you are thinking this sounds like the most awesome job in the world. It's not. And the place I worked had some human dynamics that were less than stellar. Between how beat up my body was getting from getting tossed around by 1,500 lb. animals all day long and how stressed I was getting by the people, and how incredibly low my salary was, it was time for me to go. Where did I go you ask???

3. I went back to school. I am currently going back to college at the ripe old age of 34 to finish my CPA. I have an Ag Business degree (read that as though it means nothing, because it does) which means that I had a good portion of the class requirements filled already. So, here is me trying to be an accountant. But how are living you ask??

4. Not to fear. I am uber frugal and I saved up a bunch of dough before I quit my job. My photography business is doing well. I am a part-time bookkeeper for a local real estate agent. AND, just for fun, I work one day a week at the biggest winery in my little valley. The pay is terrible, but the discount on wine is TOTALLY worth it.

5. I have started sleeping through the night. I know it seems weird that I put this in my list of life changes, but it has actually changed my life. My insomnia has always been an ever-present part of my life and I kinda took it to just be normal. I read a lot of books, operated my daily activities at a sub-par level, and could, on almost a daily basis, be a real bitch (ear muffs). I started sleeping through the night about two weeks after I quit my job. Further proof that that place was eating me alive. Or at the very least making me eat every thing alive in sight.

That pretty much covers the major life changes. So, why return to the blog???

Well, I am currently two weeks into getting back into some kind of workout routine, for starters. Pause for the shock and awe at the fact that I started this project pre-New Year's resolution. I am currently in the phase of where I am realizing how out of shape I am, I am extremely hungry all the time, and since I won't step on a scale I have no proof of this, but I think I have actually gained weight. Time to talk about it before I quit doing it.

Secondly, I don't hate myself. Wait...What???? Yeah, so, here's the thing. I. Don't. Hate. Myself. I don't love my fat. But I don't hate myself. I have always fought this weight/fitness battle driven purely by hatred for myself. Not this time. As it turns out, thick or thin, I am a good person. I am smart. I am funny. I am honest. What's to hate??? Will this make the difference in me having lasting success this time? Who knows. And end of the day, who cares. Know why??? Because... I. Don't. Hate. Myself. Finally, there is a dude. I don't know if he is THE DUDE. But in a lonely attempt to meet someone, I got on the great wide world of Internet dating. Gag. Head hung in shame. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. What was I thinking? But, after sifting through a ton of freaks I have met a dude I like. Let's be honest, I like him a lot. I call him Captain America. I won't go into the gushy details as to why, but if I ever mention Captain America on the blog you will know who I am talking about. We have been talking for a few weeks now. He lives about 7 hours away, so, we are working on the details of actually meeting, but it is fun getting to know him. As a result, I am having all kinds of girly thoughts aka insecurities. For instance, will he turn and run when he first lays eyes on me. If things go well, are we gonna, well, I'll just say it, see each other naked? Gawd. Plus, the thought of shopping for a wedding dress mortifies me (talk about cart before the horse, it's great being a girl!). That last one is totally my best friend's fault. She started talking about bridesmaids dresses about 37 seconds after I told her his name.

So, hey, welcome back into my crazy, curly-headed, double chinned head. Let's get healthy, AGAIN!!!

This Means WAR!!!

I saw a repost on Facebook yesterday that said, "You know what I got for Christmas? FAT, that's what I got, I got FAT!" It was adorably placed over an extremely overweight cat sitting there like a blob after it probably just cleaned it's own hind end. Well, kids, here is me, the fat cat that got even more fat for Christmas. It wasn't just Christmas, it was Thanksgiving, the couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, and the month before that... I didn't just get fat last week, much as I would like to think that is true. Don't get me wrong, I have had some fun the past few months. It is fun to drink with my buddies. It's fun to cook naughty food for friends/family. You know what's not fun, the anxiety I feel every time I go to get dressed, praying that my pants will still fit. It's not fun to get hit on by the over 40, overweight, DJ at the local watering hole because I'm still just fat enough to attract that guy. It isn't fun to realize that you are back to being the fat friend at the Christmas parties. It's not fun to daily break promises I make to myself. So, today I waged war. It has been about 2 years since I initially took a stand against my fat, my fat lifestyle, and my fat mindset. That is approximately the exact timeline of when I fell off my fat wagon the last time I lost 100+ pounds. Does history repeat itself?? You bet your sweet patooty it does! But not here, not this time. I can't tell you exactly how much I have gained back because it has been so long since I stepped on my scale I didn't know that the battery was dead. So, when I went to get a starting weight this morning I was surprised/relieved that my scale didn't work. I can, however, tell you that my size 12 pants are tight. Like I should probably consider myself a 14. I am maxing out that little bit of spandex they put in jeans these days. I can tell you that I feel my belly jiggle when I drive down a bumpy road. I can tell you that I notice my spare tire when I sit down. I can tell you that my arm jiggle is rearing it's ugly head when I lift my arms while doing my make-up. I can tell you my face is a little rounder. I can tell you that I feel fat. End of story. Time to actually get serious, not just talk about getting serious. The good news is, I am waging war before I actually have to buy size 14 pants. I am waging war before I have 100+ pounds to lose. I am waging war before New Year's (why wait??). I am waging war before it is T-shirt/tank top season. I am juicing again. I am going to go one month and see how I feel. I'll decide then if I want to do the second month or not. I may switch to eating clean then, or I may forge ahead for four more weeks, stay tuned. As I write this in the afternoon of day one, I can say this. I already feel a little better. I had a slight headache this morning, but that could be a hangover from the grand food send off I so lovingly gave myself last night. I expect my face to break out this week. I expect my skin to look great the week after that. I expect about week three I will get a cold. I expect to lose some inches. I'm adjusting to the juicing for the weekend and I am restarting T-25 on Monday morning. I'm taking my horse to a place where I can ride her tomorrow. I am setting these routines before my classes start again. School/work/photography/holidays have been my priorities the past few months. I got some great things done in those areas. I aced my class, I have some happy photography clients, I'm still gainfully employed. For this next month, those things are gonna get set down a notch on my priority list, one notch behind MY HEALTH. If I'm not healthy, nothing else matters. My war decree. I have been so wrapped up in "being busy" that I have not only let my ass slide, but I have been just existing in my home as well. I waged war on the house today. I started in the kitchen, overhauled the fridge, made a weeks worth of juice, mopped, had laundry going all the while. Living room next. Mail/catalogs/random papers got trashed, blinds got washed, couch got vacuumed, floor got mopped. That's right, I went to battle and won. Not tooting my horn, more like, a shameful admission of how I let stuff go. I'm calling it quits for today, tomorrow is my room and the room of indecision. Look out, I'm on the war path and I'm not quitting until the house and my ass look a lot more presentable. December 28, Day 1 of the Final Fifty World War II.

Shame on me, I let myself forget.

So, today, long over due mind you, I got back to working out. First off, I let myself go a little which was readily evident by my bouncing midsection and tousling thighs. Second, I was out of air in short work, and I mean OUT. OF. AIR. Lastly, when it was all over, I felt A-MAZING. I let myself forget how good it feels to workout. I have been psyching myself out about how much work it was gonna be again to get back on the exercise wagon that I forgot all the good stuff. And, believe you me, there is good stuff. Shame on me. Big time. Time to rectify this situation. I wanna wear leggings by Christmas, and get back to doing boy push-ups, and rock a burpee, and not exercising is not gonna get me there. Go T-25!! Which, by the way, so far, I am impressed with. That is all.

Be where you are when you are there.

How's that for a confusing, slightly Confucius title??? This is going to be a little bit convoluted post and I will try to tie it into eating/exercising/and being a fat kid by the end, but bare with me in the mean time.

I have not only made some major life changes in the past year (year and a half), but I have also made some major life decisions, and have also had some major life thrown at me. As a result, if you know me, I some what resemble a chicken with her head cut off. I am basically chasing my tail every where I go. Normally, I would deal with this by eating, lots and lots of eating. And don't get me wrong, I still do my fair share. But, here is a little something I have been trying to do lately.... I have a pretty darn type-A personality. I like to be in control and I like for things to be perfect. So, giving something a half-hearted effort just isn't in my nature. It bothers me. Missing a deadline nearly kills me. Being out of commission because I am sick does nothing but fuel me with anger. So, right now I am working full-time, going back to school, riding/training two horses with others that need cared for at home, and moonlighting as a photographer. This is a lot for me. Some people may be able to breeze through with this schedule and not look back, but for me, it is a load. I find myself or at least my brain trying to be in all these places at the same time. As a result, I am not focused on what I am doing when I am doing it. I have crazy dreams about work where everything is falling apart, or I forgot to do something critical for a patient (I work at a horse hospital), or even worse, I dream that I get fired. Which in all honesty could be a blessing in disguise, but I just can't afford it right now. I am doing well in school, but I seriously am just waiting for the shoe to drop. I can't keep this up forever, can I??? I am a little behind in my photo processing, but I refuse to stress about it. What I have left are two weddings that I didn't charge for so at this point I feel like they are getting what they paid for. Sounds cold, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. So, you ask, what about a social life??? I am a social creature. I have close friends that I love and cherish and don't want them to get the shaft. So, I am working that in the mix too. Balance is important, no, balance is vital. And my family. Let's not leave them behind. So, finally here is the thing I have been trying to do. When I am at a place, let's say work, I try to just be at work. I try not to worry about school unless its lunch and I can squeeze it in. When I am at school, its all school. No FB, no worrying about work, no stressing over pictures, no guilty feelings about friends or family. When I am riding, I try to stay focused on my horse, not let my mind drift, think about each step she is making and how I am directing it. When I am with my friends, I enjoy every minute of them. I try to beat back thoughts of all the things I NEED to be getting done, and just be with them. When I am with my family, I listen to how their day was, try to be in the room with them, not racing around in my mind trying to do more than I should. This is not an easy process for me. I like to be going a million directions, I thrive on it, I do better under pressure. But, I have myself at a maxed out point where I am going to be picking quantity over quality and that just isn't my style. I want to be good at the things I am doing and I want the people that I am with to know that I am with them. I don't want to be so stressed that all I can think about is eating. Give it a try. Try just doing one thing at a time. See how it feels. I'm not saying there won't be times where you need to be multi-tasking and putting to use your super-human powers, I'm just saying don't overuse them. There may be a limit on them. Take time to do what you are doing right. Be where you are when you are there. Don't miss out because your body is in one place and your head is in another.

WHAT was I thinking???

What, I repeat, WHAT was I thinking??? I told you guys that I was going to work for my old boss for a couple of weeks (taking vacation from my current job to do so), and that it was gonna be kinda sorta hard. I am currently in the midst of that two week stint. I had to come home for four days to go back to class and I am heading back down tonight. But, just for fun, I thought I would run a 5k the morning after I got home. You know, instead of resting up for the next challenging week, go run a race. Right now you are probably thinking, well that's good, Funny Fat Chic has been running, good for her, maybe I should run too! Ha! Pfffft! Don't kid yourself. I opted to run the 5k with no training what-so-ever. As in I ran not one step for the couple of months prior to this 5k unless I was chasing a food truck of some kind. I realize that a 5k shouldn't require a lot of training, but some previous running may have been helpful. When we arrived the vast majority of the people there looked like they had been running before the race. Not running like right before the race, but maybe like they had been running several, if not many consecutive days prior to the race in a preparation of sorts for this particular day. There was one gal in particular that I will never forget her backside, as in I got a really good look at it due to the fact that she out ran me quite handily and I only got a look at her backside. She had long, toned legs, not short chubby ones like mine, a tight back that would look great in any bra, not like mine where I am continually trying to camouflage my back fat, and her arms were ripped, not rippling in the wind with every step like my own. While I will never have her height or length of leg, I aspire to be her, she is motivation.  I won't lie, I made it through, I ran the hills, I even ran and then went back for my friend and walked with her when she was feeling a little winded. So, I did it, and I felt like ass later (sorry for the language, but seriously, I felt like ass), and I ate onions rings after to make up for the whopping 75 calories I probably burned on that 3-point-whatever miles. So, I was considering it a wake up call, not that I didn't already have intentions to get rolling on the exercise wagon again anyways, but my readily apparent out of shape-ness on that little jaunt was pretty clear. Then it happened. I mean IT happened. They posted the race pictures. You know, in case you wanted to see yourself and all your out of shape glory attempting to pretend to jog up a hill... On the Internet... For all the world to see, not just me. So, there I am jogging with my incredibly adorable friend and what's that jogging with us??? Oh, yes, it's my gut. My bouncing, odd ball, ever present, spare tire. Illuminating itself through my brand new race t-shit, as if mocking the entire set-up. My gut was like, "Hey guys, see me, I'm not racing anyone, not even myself. How ironic that this race shirt even fits over me." OK, if I wasn't awake enough, those pictures did it for me. Color me back to exercising as soon as I get home from Reno. Lookout core, you're gonna be sore. Expect to see T-25 updates on this here blog. Expect to see less of me the next time you see me. Expect results. 'Cause here is the thing, I did that race and I made it, and I did fine, and a year ago, year and a half, that wouldn't of been true, but I have stalemated, and that isn't fair to me. Time to finish this thing. I know I will always struggle a bit, but I don't want to be fearful or ashamed of pictures of myself popping up somewhere. I want to be happy that I did it and looked good doing it. That's what I want. I want all the other stuff too, healthy habits, good to great fitness, etc. But deep down I want what we all want, I want to look good doing it. No more pushing snooze on this alarm clock, it's time to get down to business!!

P.S. I am VERY happy I did that race. It was good quality time with my friend and good gauge for me to see where I am really at. I don't regret a second of it, even if it means my gut made an Internet debut.