The Ten Worst Words I Could Hear

‘You have the rest of your life to work out’.

That’s what my boss said when we were talking about how much I hate Lower Body Murder Day and that I think I may have a hernia (more details on that later, when I have confirmation).

To elaborate, I had these bumps checked out by my doctor, but we aren’t sure if they are in fact hernias, and I am scheduled to see a surgeon.  I was talking to my boss, who is fit, athletic, and nutritionally smart.  He is my go to when I have dumb questions.  Anyways, we were chatting about these potential hernias (Yes, I know…HerniaSSSS. Two.) and he told me to take it easy at the gym.  Listen to my body.  Don’t let Franz push me to a point of no return because I don’t want to hurt myself.

Then he said it.

“You have the rest of your life to work out”.  Inside I thought, ‘OUCH.  You mean, my one work out tonight doesn’t count for forever?  You mean that I will still be doing this shit when I’m 90??’

I’m no dummy.  I know that tonights work out doesn’t count for forever.  I know that years from now, I’ll still struggle to complete some work outs and that I will push myself to new limits and new goals.  I know this… but I don’t like thinking about it.  I mean… compare it to hearing ‘You will be working for the rest of your life’.  Painful to hear, right?  That’s not exactly what he meant though, but it’s how I heard it.  What he meant was, I don’t need to feel like I HAVE to push myself to my limits RIGHT NOW, because if I get hurt, or hurt myself farther then I already have, then I won’t be able to do it long term.  Makes sense.

I proceeded to go to training, and Franz encouraged me and pushed me on a lower body work out that was concentrating on my midsection.  My abs (remember those 12 pack abs under my E.T. exterior??) were throbbing before I even left the gym.  I managed to complete 30 side planks on each side, 30 J-Curls, 60 lunges, and 54 squats among other things.  I didn’t cry, I almost barely complained, and I only talked about someday being in a full-body cast, once.

 

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Proof Is In The Numbers

I’m at the gym on training day.  I’m doing my first exercise of the night- throwing a medicine ball down as hard as I can, then picking it up, throwing it forward, walking to it, and doing it all over again.  I hate this work out.  HATE THIS WORK OUT… but something changed on my last throw.  A woman working out nearby saw the medicine ball and said, ‘WOW!  Twenty pounds?!’.  Franz said, ‘YEP!’.  I sat, confused.  This isn’t normal?  Is that a lot of weight?  Apparently it is…

That’s what’s so funny about working out with Franz.  I am pushed to do things I wouldn’t do on my own, and sometimes, I don’t even realize how physically strong I am.

So, let’s go over a couple of the numbers from this particular work out day.  After my twenty pound medicine ball throwing, I did 10 reps-4 times, of pulling 135 pounds back in what I call the ‘Pull Back’.  Good enough name, right?  Wouldn’t it be lovely if I knew (or listened) to the real names??  In between reps, I did 10 push ups.  Kill me.  Next up, was planking, but I had to plank on one arm, while moving weights from one side of my body to the other, and then switch to the other arm.  In between reps, I pushed a 25 lb weight over my head, one arm at a time.  Fast forward a few more fancy moves, and my very last ‘challenge’ was holding 40 lb kettle bells in each hand (90 lbs!!  (Almost) Exactly what I’ve lost!) , and walking back and forth down the track, for 2 minutes.  Sounds like it might be easy… it’s not.

Numbers don’t lie.  I don’t know where I started… but holy crap I can do a lot more than I thought I could, now.

P.S.- I am writing this and my arms are shaking.  The next two days are gonna be rough.

P.P.S- Today I taught the little boy I nanny how to show his muscles (and grunt while doing it).  Clearly an important skill.

S T R U G G L I N G

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I’m sensitive.  Underneath the funny, sarcastic, fowl mouthed exterior, I am sensitive.  Sometimes I find these more serious Memes and my sensitive, sentimental side comes out. I think about where I have come from.  Ninety pounds ago, I thought I … Continue reading

Safe Word

So in my last entry, I wrote about how all I do is complain to Franz, and when it really hurts, he doesn’t believe me.  Well, after that blog came out, a loyal reader (Hey, Katie!) suggested that we come up with a safe word to use.  You know, the one word that I’m allowed to use to tell him that NO I’M DEAD SERIOUS, I’M DYING.

When I walked into training on that Wednesday, I proposed this idea to him, and he laughed.  Then we both threw out words to use… at the same time.  His was ‘Nutella’.  Mine was ‘Marshmallow’.  The first thing I thought was, I need a s’more.

After this, he proceeded to kick my ass, and I couldn’t use my legs for two days, and I never did get my s’more.

By the way, when Katie suggested I use a safe word, she also told me I couldn’t abuse it.  I kept that in mind, until the end of my session.  I was tired.  I had been working so hard the whole time.  Pushing myself to my limits.  Feeling weak, but knowing I was strong.  The very last set of exercises he put me through was pushing the Man Sled down the ‘green’, and back.  He loaded it with 90 pounds, on top of it’s own heavy steel weight.  When I got back to the start, I immediately had to go into a plank for 45 seconds, and then do it all over again.  By the third set, I finally succumbed to my own pain and suffering, and yelled, “Nutella!  Marshmallow!!  NUTELLA AND MARSHMALLOW!!”.  And if you were wondering, he didn’t care.  I had to finish my last set.

Attack of the Carbohydrates

I.  Miss.  Baking.

Seriously, if you know me, you know that it was always like 9:30 at night when I would get this sudden urge to make ooey gooey chocolate chip cookies.  Truth be told, I love to cook, but I really love to bake.  I mean, they don’t call me ‘Cupcake’ for nothing!

When I look back on things, I realize that I was (and still am) 100% addicted to carbohydrates.  In my journey, this year, I have found all sorts of things to fill the void of some of my favorite carbs: pasta, and rice, and I have steered clear of baking anything because, well… it’s dangerous for me.

This was until I found Carbquick.  Stay with me.  Carbquick baking mix is a magical flour that has so much fiber in it, that the net carbs come down to almost nothing.  I don’t even care whats in it… if I can bake (AND EAT) baked goods, I’M IN!

Since I purchased it (off of Amazon; yes, it was expensive, and yes it’s worth it), I have made regular biscuits, pumpkin spice biscuits, and tonight I made apple cinnamon muffins.  I have about 3,000 apples left from apple picking, and I have been creative in using them up, and this was one of those recipes.

I’m not going to bother writing the recipe, because you need the Carbquick product.  If you buy it, follow the muffin recipe, and then I added two apples cut up, and cinnamon.  All of this talk brings me to the most important part.  The nutrition facts.  The batch makes 12 muffins.

Each muffin:

  • Calories- 63
  • Fat- 3.4
  • Net Carbs- 3 (ARE YOU KIDDING ME???)
  • Fiber- 7.3
  • Sugar- 2
  • Protein- 4.2

So, this isn’t the most exciting post, but I had to share that I’m baking again, and I;m so excited.  Who knew there was a whole world of alternative products!?!

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This One Is About A Wicked Nice Farmer I Know

I’ve posted about the hilariously shitty things that people have said to me, about my weight loss, but this time, I want to share a story about a really nice comment.

My town has a Farmer’s Market, and I’ve gone every Thursday, in the summer, for at least six years.  I go to the same vendor for fruits and vegetables, every single time.

Over the years, I’ve gotten to know the guy who runs this particular stand.  We have small chit chat, and he’s always very pleasant.  He’s really a very, very nice guy (also cute, but that has nothing to do with it. haha!).  Once upon a time, he told me his name, but I never remember names…because I suck.  I call him Farmer Brown, when I talk about him.  Judge me.

Yesterday, while paying for my pretty peaches and zucchini, Farmer Brown said, ‘Umm… I don’t know if this is ok to say; I mean, I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this, but you’ve lost a lot of weight!  Is that ok to say?  I hope it is!  You look great!’

I replied, ‘OF COURSE!’  I thanked him, and told him a few stories about the crazy shit people have said, and how this weird human race thinks it’s ok to say kind of, well,  slightly rude comments about people who lose weight (but not when they gain it, of course!).  He was shocked at the things I’ve heard, and we just laughed about it.

I will say, that sometimes it’s awkward when people say something, but deep down I actually really enjoy it.  I don’t enjoy it because I’m narcissistic.  I enjoy it because sometimes I don’t see the changes.  When other people haven’t seen me in a while, their reactions are always nice because that’s how I know I’ve changed.  My hard work, and dedication to this process, has all been worth it, when I get those reactions.

Anyways, I really wish that he knew that he absolutely made my day.