Thursday:  30 cardio (any) – check…already done.  I had a little dance party/kickbox workout with Penelope before school.

Friday:        90 minute yoga

Saturday:   Bellydancing 60 min.

Sunday:      Free Day – if the weather is nice, we take a family walk or hike

Monday:    Body Pump & Swim

Tuesday:    Yoga/Pilates Fusion

Wednesday: Vinyasa Yoga & 45 -60 min. cardio (swim or belly dance)

There it is, folks.  I’m getting the rest of these Girl Scout cookies out of my house, hoping to get my troop to sell the rest of them and if not, I’ll buy them and donate them.  Thanks, Kelle for that advice.  Looking forward to a change.  I’m sick of my playlist, sick of the same recipes, sick of the same old same old.  As one of my friends describes her life, “it’s like living ‘Groundhog Day’, every day”.  That is how my workouts are feeling.  See ya rut!

I did weights and then went to hot yoga.  I am hoping that the yoga will help, felt like I needed to sweat out some toxins.  I’m still feeling sluggish, today and I’ve decided that it’s o.k. to declare this afternoon as a lazy afternoon.  Maybe I could us a little more lazy in my life every now and then.  I took a shower and got into my p.j’s, so here it is 2:30 PM on a Wednesday afternoon and I’m in pajamas.  If anyone stops by my house, they will think that I’m one of those women that doesn’t get dressed all day.

I’m planning on going to bed earlier tonight and hope that I improve soon.  I will be on the phone in a few minutes begging for an appointment with the witch doctor.  Maybe this dude can get to the bottom of these strange and lingering symptoms.  It’s been over three years now and I would at least like a real diagnosis, not: unspecified autoimmune disorder.  They might as well stamp hypochondriac across my health records.

As much as I don’t want to weigh in tomorrow at Weight Watchers, it is not an option, it is a responsibility.  Just like with the weather, my mood is gray and cloudy, but I know there will be days with sunshine.

My husband’s grandmother passed away in Taiwan and I have been very concerned about my mother-in-law.  She has been her mother’s care taker for the past ten years and I know she misses her mother very much.  I feel very sad for her.

My friend’s mom passed away just weeks after being diagnosed with lung cancer.  I am sad for their family.  It also brings my fear of losing my mom to the surface.  I’m so close to my mom that my heart breaks for anyone that loses their mom, no matter how old their mother may be.

My bank debit/credit card was stolen and I have been feeling pretty violated since last Thursday.

I’m dealing with these GS cookies lying around my house.

Someone trash talked me to a friend and it has been eating at me for days and days.  I think what is disturbing to me is I haven’t been caught up in Girl World.  I didn’t participate in B.S. during high school and had mostly guy friends in my early adult life and only came into circles of women friends when I had kids.  My women friends have been awesome, so not much exposure in my life to cattiness, backstabbing, two-face, manipulative type behavior.  I’m naive in a lot of ways.  I always think that Real Housewives is all made up because I just can’t believe that anyone would behave that way.  Ha!  What has eaten away at me is what was said wasn’t even true.  I go through life trying to be a good, decent, helpful person. If someone wants to trash talk me I can make a list of probably one hundred things in a matter of seconds to put out there, I’m human, but they would all be true:

I talk about working out and diets waaaaaaay too much.

I think I know everything when I truly know nothing.

I diagnose everyone including myself without having ever stepped a foot into medical school.

I often smell offensive because I work out and then run errands or meet friends for lunch (see there I go throwing in something about workouts again).

I’m very gassy and sometimes cut wind in public, silent, but deadly wind (I eat a lot of broccoli and beans (again with the diet)).

I talk really loud especially when I think what I’m saying is really funny.

I quote Star Wars too much.

I talk about Star Wars too much.

I could go on and on.  So, a lot weighing on my mind and that’s just a few of them.  Yesterday, after my WW meeting, I was talking with my friend, Colleen, who came up and gently patted my shoulder and told me to have a good week and to hang in there.  Those few words so genuinely stated to me by a wise and beautiful woman who I admire so much really put things into perspective for me.  I’ve been hearing her voice in my head all day.  I’m not going to let anyone else control how I eat.  I’m not going to polish off a sleeve of cookies because I am frustrated or have my feelings hurt.  I’m going to keep on going like I always do.  I”m going to keep being a stand up person, an honest person and share with all my readers that I ain’t perfect.  See that, I just wrote ain’t!  I’m a true rebel.

Next week is going to be a good week (sing that sentence out to “Tonight’s Gonna Be A Good Night” and it will really get you pumped up).  Who’s with me?  Who else is going to brush off the crap and have a good week?

Enough is enough.  I haven’t had any cookies in the past two days and there is an open box in the pantry.  I didn’t use my time wisely to plan and prep for meals and snacks this week either and I see the result of that. 

I’m not upset over it, I’m not mad, disgusted, just aware of the problem and the solution.  My legs are shrinking down because my pants are getting looser, so that’s a plus, a good kind of plus, not the kind of plus I posted at the top of this blog.

Plan for this week is to spend more time in the swimming pool and yoga mat.  My hips were super sore, yesterday and I’m not sure why.  I know that I need to schedule a doctor’s appointment and probably get an MRI, but I think I’m going to see this witch doctor dude that my friend highly recommended.  I have more faith in a guy like that than someone who just wants to break out the steroid shots.

I got myself two new sports bras, my old one has been worn out for some time and not holding my girls in place very well.  I’m ready to take on the week with an I think I can, I think can, I think I can avoid the GS cookies, prep my food, plan my meals and snacks, and enjoy every delicious bite attitude.  The scale and I shall love one another once again next week.

When I got into my car this morning, I felt the tears welling up just a bit, so I changed radio stations and hit the 80′s station.  ”Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” was playing.  It made me laugh and sit there in awe for a moment.  I had to question Brandi if she was messing with me.  That is one of her all time favorite songs and mine and we loved, loved, loved listening to and dancing to it together.   I’m talking about dancing like fools dancing.

I knew that today would be the best day to focus on my fundraising efforts for the Tour de Cure where I will be riding 62 miles this year.  I’m not going to lie to you.  The number sixty-two is very intimidating and I expressed to my friend, David who will be riding along with me that I’m frightened.  He is too.  There that made me feel better.  I would love to raise $1200.00 this year.  I”m doubling my mileage, so hoping to double my donations.  If you are interested or know someone who would like to donate or ride on my team here is the information:  http://main.diabetes.org/site/TR/TourdeCure/TennesseeArea?px=5708863&pg=personal&fr_id=8072 

Today, I made it to the gym to work my abs for twenty whole minutes, oh my, and I went to spin class with some encouragement from David.  At one point as I felt like my legs were going to stop working, I looked over at him and asked, “whose idea was this?”.  I needed to sweat.  I needed to take care of me.  I thank each of you that has personally reached out to me, today.  It means so much to me.

I want to leave you all, today on a funny note.  This is one of my favorite memories of myself and my sister, Brandi as kids.  The year was 1991, I was getting ready to graduate high school, my sister was almost 6 years younger than me.  I put on one of my mom’s records, yes, we listened to the record player back then.  I was dancing and really getting into it and my sisters were looking at me like I was nuts.  When I asked what was up, Brandi said, “why are you dancing like that?”.  I responded that was how we danced when I was growing up and Brandi said, “man, the eighties were weird!”.

I can pull the jeans all the way up.  I can button the jeans when I inhale and suck in as I have never sucked in before.  Breathing is not an option at this point. I cannot bend my knees in the jeans.  There is a large amount of flab protruding over the top of the jeans, also known as muffin top.  Mine is more like a jumbo muffin top, you know like the Costco equivalent of a muffin.

I decided, yesterday and proclaimed on Facebook that I am beginning a new challenge for my new goal.  Seven in 7 is what I am calling it.  I want to be able to wear, sit, bend over, and be able to walk without looking like Frankenstein in these fab jeans within seven weeks.

Today is day one and with the way my week has been going since Thursday weigh in, I am on a roll.  I did have a bag of peanut butter m & m’s at the movies, last night, which was 14 PointsPlus, Yikes, but my dinner was a bust.  I went to a restaurant that undercooked my salmon, so I was quite grossed out and on a time crunch for a movie, so I ate less than a third of my salmon burger and had a few sweet potato fries.  Not very satisfying.  You all know I don’t eat popcorn for two major reasons: My daughter choked on popcorn to the point that her face turned blue and I had to perform the Heimlich on her, thank God I knew what to do. Then she aspirated it into her lung. Very scary situation. Please don’t let your young children eat popcorn and don’t let any children eat it unsupervised.  It is the third leading cause of fatal choking among children.  Another popcorn incident lead me to my second colonoscopy (I know it wasn’t the popcorn, but it was the last thing I ate before I my intestinal infection started).  O.k. enough about popcorn and poop.  I wish I had planned ahead and packed myself a snack.  While I’m thinking about it, I’ll throw some almonds and granola bars in my purse.

Today, at the gym, I got on the Jacob’s ladder for the second time.  I was only able to go 2 minutes the first time, but today I managed 4 minutes.  For those of you that may not know what this contraption is, the ladder is just that.  The ladder is much like the treadmill or stairclimber.  You climb on the ladder and the ladder begins to move.  Your feet and hands have to keep moving in the motion of climbing, the higher you go, the faster it gets.

By minute one my heart rate was increasing and I was finally getting into the rhythm.

At minute two I was sweating and I was feeling a little self-conscious about falling off.

At minute three my quads were on fire, burning like I had just finished 5oo lunges.

At minute four, I had to tell myself not to go into the light, I may have even shouted, “no, no I’m not ready”.

At 4:02 I hopped off and claimed my victory as I huffed and puffed on over to the rest of my workout.

So, my friends day one of Seven in 7 is going quite nicely.

I would like to share something on a lighter note.  I had an extreme day of working out, yesterday.  I went to spin, worked my upper body with weights and abs, then went to hot yoga.  Walking into a room heated to 90 degrees after I had already been working out was much different from the previous times I had entered.

There were three other women there and then a man walked in.  He placed his mat on the floor and removed his long-sleeved shirt to reveal a tank top and some serious pecks.  I don’t think that I have ever seen so much muscle on a person in person before.

As the class progressed, at one point I stood up and couldn’t help but notice that his tank top was gone.  I almost felt like I should go over with a couple of single bills because with all the flexing going on, if the music had been more up tempo, I would have thought I was at Chippendales.  Then I lost focus because I couldn’t stop thinking about Chris Farley and Patrick Swayze on SNL auditioning for the job as exotic male dancers.  I was able to control any laughter and resume my in the moment om state.

Later, I realized that a woman in running shorts had stripped down to her teeny tiny sports bra.  If the man and the woman had been on mats next to one another, I would have started to question what kind of class I was actually in, but fortunately they were on other sides of the room.

The difference between the man and the woman were their bodies.  While the woman was at a good weight, she had rolls and cellulite (the kind of woman I quickly relate to), but they both possessed the confidence to be comfortable during that hot and intense workout.

Once the class ended and I left the room, I realized that my pants were drenched.  I was soaking wet like I had jumped in the swimming pool, except I stunk.

The more I think about Mr. Shirtless and Miss Sports Bra, it has given me the confidence to wear my shorts to class.  I will be much more comfortable and I can sport my cellulite with the best of them.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLA3cdUt5to

Having a new puppy has been fun and stressful all at once.  I have forgotten how much work they are and how there has to be constant supervision, constant playing, walking, poop scooping, sometimes waking during the middle of the night and standing in the cold rain at 4 a.m.

I’ve had some other things going on with school, Girl Scouts (I did not push cookies sales this year, I felt like it would make me a hypocrite.  I let my kids go and sell, but I didn’t post anything on Facebook or ask anyone to buy them.  I didn’t even buy any.)

With these changes and events and still trying to weave my way out of the blues or depression, not sure which one it is, I haven’t tracked my food intake, I didn’t weigh in last week or make a Weight Watchers meeting because I was on a field trip, Thursday.  Not going to weigh in often has a very negative affect on me.  I feel like it entitles me to get away with something for a little longer.  I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s true.  My mind is the master of illusions sometimes.  I’ll go a day of indulging and not tracking and then convince myself that I’ll do better tomorrow.  Then tomorrow comes and I promise to get back on track tomorrow.  I know there are many of you that can relate to this mindset.

I keep telling myself to snap out of this funk, but it’s just not happening.  I thought I was hiding it pretty well, but a few of my close friends have pointed out that I don’t seem like myself or that they can tell that something is wrong.  Guess I should erase Oscar winning actress from my bucket list.

The anniversary of my sister, Brandi’s death is quickly approaching and even though it has been four years since we lost her and there are a number of people that expect me to get over it, I described to my husband the other night with tears in my eyes: imagine that the person in your life that is the first person you call when something great happens or something sad happens or you need advice or you just want to goof around and have someone make you laugh for a minute, the person that grew up with you and has seen you at your worst and best and has loved you through it all,  then imagine what it would feel like if they were just gone.  That person was just taken out of your life unexpectedly, then multiply the pain that you think you would feel from that loss by ten thousand.  That’s how badly I hurt.

As time goes on, I do find myself laughing about things we did or shared or enjoy special memories, but the pain comes often when I think about that it has been four years since I have heard her sweet voice over the phone and that hilarious laugh she had.  It has been four years since we hugged when she left my house after visiting for Christmas and I always loved the way her hair smelled.  It has been so long since we danced to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, went to the store to buy yarn so she could teach me to knit, which I never picked up on no matter how many times she patiently showed me, since we talked about our kids, since we said “I love you”.

What I hate the most about the anniversary is thinking about the events of that horrible day.  I hate that the last time I talked to my sweet Brandi, she was dying and neither of us knew it.  I told her to call the doctor and that I would call her back to check on her later.  I could never in a million years ever imagined that it would be the last time we would talk.  I could have never imagined that my 29 year old sister was having a heart attack.  I could have never imagined that mine and my family’s life would be forever changed.

I remember right after I lost my sister, I asked my friend, Rosemary, who has lost a brother, how I would ever get over it and she told me that I wouldn’t. She said, “you won’t get over it, you just find a way to get through it”.  Over the years I have learned what she meant by that.

I finally told myself, yesterday that I was going to get up and make the best of the day and it was a good day.  Today began well with spin class, hot yoga, walking my puppy, but then towards the end of the day, I wanted to erupt into an ugly cry and punch and tear things apart because I simply miss my sister.

As I write this, I realize that all I can do is try to keep making a difference and get the message out there for women to recognize the symptoms of a heart attack.  http://www.womenheart.org/supportForWomen/prevention/questionHeartAttack.cfmTo get the message out there that if you are obese and you think it won’t shorten your life, you are kidding yourself.

I’m also giving myself permission as of this moment to be sad.  I give myself permission to do what I need to do to get through this.  I will be at my Weight Watchers meeting in the morning for weigh in.  I can’t jeopardize my health because I’m having a rough time.  I owe it to myself and to my family.  Tomorrows weigh in isn’t about how much I gained, it’s about being accountable and trying.

The room was hot. Man, was it hot.  There were 4 or 5 humidifiers doing their jobs very well.  When I first entered, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  The look of terror on my face must have been evident because a woman asked me if it was my first class.  When I told her it was, she encouragingly told me that I would be fine.

I was really concerned if I would be able to make it the entire hour of the class.  I had chugged water the day before knowing that there would be a lot of sweat involved, but this wasn’t a puddle of sweat that began to take place, it quickly became a lake of sweat.

As we got started I began to focus more on my breathing and less on the heat.  While stretching and going from one pose to the next, I quickly realized how much more flexible I was in the heat.  I was able to stretch deeper than usual.

I left the class smelling like a wet dog, my tank was completely soaked, my face was beet red, but I felt cleansed from the inside out, proud, revitalized, invigorated and jonesing for my next hot yoga class.

Letting fear keep me from trying new things would only leave me wondering what it would be like and then I am stuck doing the same old things.  I would rather forget the fear and broaden my horizons.