With friends like this...

My colleague, Susie, has a dancer's body.  Tall, thin, legs up to my shoulders...you get the picture.  She is expecting her third child, and she is beginning to show.  She is just adorable (even though she doesn't think so)!  Well, she glides her way into my office with her size tiny dress and says, "My buttons are beginning to gape."  Excuse me for not sharing in your grief, but I thought gaping buttons were a good  thing, especially when you have been hoping beyond hope that the little buggers at least meet!  I mean, please!  She can hide in a straw...and I'm not talking about one of those big ol' milkshake straws, I'm talking about a stir-cream-in-your-coffee straw.  Now, I know I will never have a body like hers; it's not in my genes.  (I have a lot more in my "jeans" than she ever will, pregnant or not.)  The last time I had bones that small was in utero. I only have one thing to say, but I don't think I want it in print.  
 

Week 10

I've received some positive comments about how I look.  That really makes me feel awesome!  Someone asked if I was dieting as well as working out.  I laughed because I'm completely hedonistic about food and will not deny myself what I want!  I guess I am making better choices.  For example, if I want a Twinkie, I'll a eat Twinkie...but I won't eat 4!

During my workout Monday, Jeremy and I kept noticing that as the cardio work intensified, I was having a more difficult time breathing.  It was like I was trying to breathe through a straw.  I called my doc and heard just what I had expected...asthma.  This really came as no big surprise.  Looking back, I know I've had the exercise-induced asthma for a long time, but I also recognized having problems when I laughed a lot, etc.  So, I started taking meds -- Singulair at night and Albuterol inhaler prior to workout. 

The meds helped my workout significantly.  I was winded from the workout but did not feel like I could not get any air.  Unfortunately, the inhaler makes me really hyper for about 90 minutes.  While this may actually enhance my workout, I need a shirt that says, "Help!  I'm talking and I can't shut up!"  This would be for the post-workout phase of my hypomania because I promise I am not Chatty-Kathy while my tongue is dragging the ground!

Given this asthma-thing I have going, we have changed my routine a bit.  I am doing more frequent but shorter bursts of cardio excercise.  Today, Jeremy said, "Ok, give me some jumping jacks."  I must have had a look on my face like someone had just ca-ca'ed my upper lip because he said, "You don't like jumping jacks, do you?"  I assured him that was fine.  HOWEVER, picture it...jumping jacks with D-Cups. Forget the asthma!  Now I have to worry about frontal lobe damage! 

Week 9

I hate boxes.  Every time Jeremy pulls that rectangular wooden box out, I get the homicidal feeling again.  I was just getting down the steps onto the box when he threw me a twist.  He told me to straddle the box and step up sorta in-an-out-ways.  Visions of my tookus bouncing all over the ground came to my mind again.  But I did it.  I hopped up and down on that box for stopwatch-man knows how long.  Actually, something Cindy exclaimed this past weekend kept me motivated..."You have no flab!"  It was something I felt so good about that those words rang in my ears with every step on that box.  She also uttered some more words in a more threatening, less supportive tone that rang in my head..."I'm going to tell Jeremy you wouldn't do the stairs."  Stairs!  Woman, we were on the sixth floor, the hotel had elevators, and nothing was on fire!
 
All in all, I must be feeling better about myself.  The little Senior Super Woman was there again today running on the treadmill, wearing her lime green and rust polyester pantsuit, and I actually managed a smile and had no assaultive impluses.  Ah, the little things...

Weekend Motivation

This past weekend, my friend, Cindy, and I treated ourselves to a night at the Arlington in Hot Springs complete with massage.  It was her birthday.  I won't tell her age, but I don't know why she would mind.  She is 10 years older than I, and she looks fabulous.  She's one of those pixy-elf friends I mentioned in an earlier post.  And when I say fabulous, I mean FABULOUS.  Great body, beautiful face, and ultra-talented.  (I hate her.) 
 
I must be a glutton for punishment (not to mention pretty darned stupid) because when we left her house, I just HAD to ask if she remembered her bathing suit.  She hadn't, so in another act of sheer stupidity, I went back for her to get it.  When we got to the hotel, she stayed in the lobby while I parked in the parking deck.  I realized she had left her bathing suit and cover-up in the back seat, so I put them in my purse (yes, they fit  IN MY PURSE) and started back to the lobby.
 
Her cover-up is this white net-looking robe-thing.  I was thinking about that while I was walking.  You see, my cover-up is a t-shirt reading "Not only am I perfect, I'm a redhead" with the sleeves cut off and a slit in the neck. I got tickled thinking about how different we are, then reality hit me.  I could never wear that cover-up without members of Greenpeace storming the pool area to free the whale from the fishing nets. 
  
As long as no one holds up a hoop for me to jump through I'll be okay.  (I wonder how much Sea World pays?)   
 
Actually, in reality, I do feel much better about myself.  Much more confident.  This has been one of the best things I have ever done for myself, followed very closely by that awesome massage.

Week 8

Back from vacation, and back at the fitness center. I couldn't remember if I met with Jeremy Monday or Tuesday. I was hoping it was Tuesday so I could ease back into working out after my happy-tray week. Nope! It was Monday. After some time on the treadmill, Jeremy started working me. And I do mean WORKING! (Excuse me, but you're standing on my tongue!)  He went up on everything--reps, weights, cardio, you name it! I have not thrown up in 15 years, but I thought I was close today. Not even camp food brought me that close to a gastrointestinal reversal.

When I left the center, I was looking for my tongue again. Then, I realized it was that girl-in-a-yellow-raincoat-Mortonized slug stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Week 7

I was on vacation this week, but that didn't stop my workout. David, Jadyn, and I went to our church youth camp (Bogg Springs Baptist Camp) with our 9-12 year olds. The three of us stayed in a cabin about 1/4 mile from the camp. Every morning, I would get up and jog to the camp and back, do 50 crunches and 25 push-ups. After breakfast, I would walk around the campground until morning service. I would walk again during rest time after lunch, including running the steps of the old hotel, while Dave and Jadyn were playing putt-putt. A second round of crunches and push ups, and I had a good workout each day.

(NOTE: The above entry is PURE FICTION. I didn't do SQUAT on my vacation except have a happy-tray every stinkin' camp-food meal! What a vacation!)