Getting All Dressed Up

I’m not a huge fan of salad.  Honestly, it has to have a lot going on for me to be interested (read: nuts, fruit, croutons, ice cream, candy, a big fat hamburger….) .  One thing that helps, is a really good dressing; Although really good dressing usually also means really unhealthy.

During this journey, I’ve been creative in making and finding recipes that FIT my new lifestyle.  Today, I’m sharing with you a SUPER easy FAT FREE dressing, that I found and love.

Mustard Lime Dressing

  • 1/4 C. Fresh Lime Juice
  • 2 TBL Honey
  • 2 TBL White Wine Vinegar
  • 2 TBL Dijon Mustard

Nutrition Facts (per 1 TBL) (makes ~12 TBL)

  • Cal 18
  • Fat 0
  • Net Carb 9.1
  • Fib .04
  • Sug 4.4
  • Pro .05

The cool thing about this recipe is that you can take it in all sorts of different directions with minimal change in Nutrition.  Try adding garlic, ginger, or using a different vinegar to change up the taste a little.  Look at me sounding all serious and stuff…

The picture below is a simple grilled chicken over arugula with grilled and raw apple slices.  Have you grilled apple?  Holy Moly.  I mean, grilled fruit is sooooo good, so apples HAD to be delicious.  They didn’t disappoint.  Over top, I drizzled the dressing, and this time I made it using Apple Cider Vinegar.  Yummy!



We Shall Call Him Franz

So the last time I was writing about my trainer (poor soul), I mentioned that we should give him a name.  After many good ideas, I presented the list to him.  After quick deliberation, he chose a name, but I didn’t like his response, so I’m choosing one for him.  We will now call him Franz.

So, my latest story about Franz is that I really, officially think that he is trying to kill me.  During my last work out with him, after I was finished with most of my exercises and headed to the last one, he kept repeating, ‘Ooooh!  We have ten minutes left! You’re gonna have to do this for ten minutes!  You’re gonna hate me!’  Too late, Franz.  I already do.

The  last thing Franz wanted me to do was pick up a 60lb sand bag, and walk it down the track, and back.  When I got back to the beginning, I was to put the bag down, and pick up a kettle bell in each hand.  Each one weighed about 40lbs.  My first trip down the track with the bag I thought, “I used to carry this weight around on me every single day of my life”.  My first trip down the track with the kettle bells I thought “Holy shit, I used to carry THIS weight around on me every single day of my life”.

My OMG moments were rudely interrupted by Franz telling me to stand up straight.  Here’s the thing- When you were 85lbs heavier, you’re used to holding your body weight in a certain way.  Standing up straight to me, is actually leaning back in the normal world.  When Franz tried to get me to stand straight, it felt like I was leaning forward.  Add 60-80 pounds of weights, and I am like a hobbling old woman.  I don’t even know how any of this makes sense because currently, I feel like I am just leaning forward all the time.  I think I need a posture brace. That should work out well while I’m trying to hop, squat, and lift at the gym.

Anyways, I did this for ten whole minutes, just like Franz threatened.  When I was done, I dropped the weights, and put myself back in that happy place thinking, “I used to carry that.  I USED to.  Not anymore.”


Redemption Is Short Lived (The Volleyball Edition) **HOW DID THIS NOT POST?!**

Writer’s Note- What the hell??  How did this not post?  Well, scroll on back through Fat Girl Wunning, and refresh your memory of my career as a volleyball player.  Then, come back, and read this final entry about my team.


I bet you all know where this is going.

Last Wednesday was our final night for summer volleyball, 2017.  Somehow, my team made it to the playoffs.  I mean, all we really had to do was be one of the top 10 out of twelve teams, but still.  We made it.

Unfortunately, playoffs just happened to land on the worst day ever.  Two of our best  team members would be up in the air, on a plane, flying to Europe.  Another one of our badass players would be vacationing with his family at a beach.  So far, already no good.  Add in that the week prior we lost all four games due to complete shit playing, and we had a recipe for failure, for playoffs.

It was best out of three.  If you won, you moved on.  If you lost, you were obviously out.  Which mean, no trophy full of Harpoon beer, for you.

Games start at 6:30 pm.  The league refs made a few announcements, and we were off to the courts.  The games begin, and keeping right on par with the last few weeks of the season, we suck.  Balls drop.  Balls are being hit directly out of bounds.  No one calls the ball, and bodies hit.  It was a disaster.  All we really could do, was laugh.  I mean, I spent the time sideline coaching, and then freaking out on the court, but really what’s new?

Have I mentioned that the playoff games means a photographer is there to capture the teams, in all their glory?  Yeah…  First of all, no glory was happening with team Block Party.  Secondly, while standing next to him while I was sideline coaching, I may have told him to walk away from me because otherwise he was going to go deaf, listening to me scream.

It’s amazing how even on the last night of the season, I still get flustered when I’m out of rotation, and then realize I have to go back in and serve.  But here I was.  It was my turn to serve, during the second game, and it really truly didn’t matter because we were obviously losing.  All of a sudden I hear, ‘Look good for the photographer!’ and I ask, ‘Where is he?!?’

Right.Next.To.Me.  Somehow I didn’t notice him.  Anyways, I do my routine of digging my feet into the sand, relaxing my body, twirling the ball in my hand (all of this makes me look like I know what I’m doing), I swing my arm and I hit the ball over the net.  I immediately turn to the photographer and say, ‘If it’s ugly, delete it!’.  He promised it wasn’t ugly.

So let’s just fast forward.  Not too far though… like fast forward to 6:55 (remember, the games started at 6:30).  We’re out.  We have lost two games.  Miserable.  We packed up our shit, and said our final good-byes to each other.  Someone piped up and asked, ‘Anyone want to go for a beer?’ and the whole team responded the same way… groaning and sadly saying, ‘no…’.

Who would want to celebrate that kind of end to an otherwise decent season?  Meh.



BTW- I’m so very thankful that Volleyball Season is over because now I can get a pedicure without the sand destroying it! #yayforlittlethings


The Clap

Our bodies make noises.  If you pretend yours doesn’t, then you’re just fooling yourself.  Not only do our bodies make noises, but we aren’t the only ones who hear them.

When my knees crack, the snaps can be heard from across the room by the deaf.  When my ankles pop, it sounds like the creaks from an old wooden chair.  I mean, I KNOW that when I move, everyone hears it.  Let’s not forget that I moan and groan when I stand up and sit down, so much so, that the baby I nanny has picked up the habit to moan and groan when he stands up and sits down.

So, it may surprise you that in my twisted sense of reality, I really figured that NO ONE heard… the clap.

It’s no secret that when you lose weight, you don’t just magically lose all of the skin that you spent years stretching out.  Nope, that shit stays with you.  Like a badge of honor, or a fat tax, or something.

Well, as I lose my padding, I gain sag.  Lately, I have noticed that my body has a new noise.  It claps.  Like, when I have my arm up, and I let it down real fast.  MY BODY CLAPS FOR ME.  I actually sent this as a text to my two girlfriends from High School.  I told them that it was super nice of my body to give me a round of applause when I’m up walking around.  Still, I thought I was the only one who could hear it.

I wasn’t.

So, it’s a Thursday, and I’m at the gym.  I’m actually in an absolutely terrible mood.  Like, my normal ‘funny ha-ha I’m going to kill you’ jokes to my trainer, had a much more authentic vibe on this particular day, if you know what I’m saying.  Honestly, I was in no mood to joke.  No mood to play around.  I was angry with the work out.  I was angry with my lack of ability.  I was angry with the Plyo Box (i.e.: Devil Box).

I’m doing step ups, and struggling with them.  I have three sets of ten step ups, per leg.  I’m on my last set of 10 for my last leg, and I raise my arms to catch my balance.  As I step back down to the ground, my arms come down, and…


My trainer starts to laugh a little, and in a quick moment, he stops.  I think he sucked that shit back inside, in fear of actually being slapped across his face. (full disclosure: I wouldn’t ever hit him, no matter how mad I was… I’m really not a violent, mean person.  I just play one, at the gym.)

I am physically dying.  I’m trying to catch my breath. I’m trying to not die.  I’m trying not to laugh, because well… that shit was funny.

At that moment, I remember what I said to my friends.  My body was clapping for me.  I was actually receiving a round of applause from my body, for making it through my work out.  I’ll take it.



You Got A Friend In Me…

Or not.  (stick with me, this is lengthy, but worth it)

A few posts ago, I mentioned that when you lose weight, or change your lifestyle, it seems that so many other things change along with it.

For real.  I had no idea how losing weight, and changing my bad habits, would affect the people around me.  Most of the amazing people in my life understand that this is the best thing for me, and do their best to support me.  Some don’t.

I mean to an extent, I can understand why some people start to pull away.  When you’re used to going out to eat with someone, and having drinks, and talking about weight and how you wish you could lose some, and stuffing your face with crappy food because you wallow about your life together- it must be hard when someone in that relationship changes, and doesn’t do any of that anymore.

What doesn’t make sense to me, is that if you’re ‘good friends’ with someone, and you have shared some seriously intimate parts of your life with them, and you have supported each other through thick and thin, that that ‘good friend’ would disappear, instead of being there for you, when you decided to be the best version of yourself.


For me and my friendship, it started out great.  This person was by my side every step of the way on this journey.  She would tell me that she would support me, and instead of drinking and going out to eat when we hung out, we could go walking, or get a coffee!  She was so supportive, caring, loving.  She even bought me a bunch of really helpful things for my weightless journey, including shaker bottles, and a journal, among other amazing items.  That sounds like the kind of person you would want in your corner, when you decide to change your life for the better, right?  That’s what I thought, too.

Apparently I’m wrong.  I’m still not quite sure what happened, or even why it happened.  I can’t seem to put my finger on one specific event that may have triggered the downfall of our relationship.  In fact, there wasn’t even a downfall.  It just stopped.  Everything STOPPED.  No more support.  No more encouragement.  No more spending time together.  Even our daily (all day, every day) texts stopped.  I mean, completely out of the blue.  Done.

Sometimes, I think about it and get really deep in my thoughts, and start beating myself up.  What if I hadn’t started to take care of myself?  What if I kept going out with her to bars, just like we have for years and years?  What if I didn’t change?  Would she still be by my side?  And then I have to remind myself that I am doing this for ME.  First and foremost, I needed to be healthy again.  I would do this all over, in a heartbeat, even knowing that I would lose one of the closest, most important people to me.

Maybe someday she will wander back into my life, and I will be able to put this behind me, and reconnect.  Maybe I’ll even find out what really happened and why I lost her in the first place.  Maybe… but if I don’t, I have to remind myself, that what’s happened, happened.  What’s done, is done.

I am healthy.  I am working on being happy.  If people don’t support that, then there is no space for them in my life.  In fact, even if I wasn’t on this journey, I wouldn’t be able to keep someone like that, around me.  No one should.

We live in a society where the number of Facebook ‘friends’, or Instagram followers you have, defines how… I don’t know, popular you are?  Maybe well liked?  I don’t know.  I just know that recently, in light of this loss of friendship, I have deleted many people from my Facebook friends list.  I am done pretending to be friends.  I want genuine, real, supportive, amazing, happy, positive people around me.  Period.

Was this entry a downer?  I hope not.  Writing it was therapeutic. I got this off my chest, and out of my head.  Everyone should be able to share their struggles. Everyone should feel supported when they need it most.  End of story.