Throw Your Hands in the Air

Well, yee-freaking-haw, I'm sitting here with my Coca-Cola, eatin' me my clearance Valentine's Whitman's chocolate sampler box, in the shape of a heart that I bought for my own damn self.  

Loving the Florida Sun

I'm watchin' me some of this Daytona 500 action, because I am living in an area that if I turn my ear just a little down yonder I may just be able to hear the tires squealin' and it seems like the right thing to do.  When in Rome, you know.  

I'm listening to the announcers say things like "Hhooooeee!!!  I do believe he turned his car PLUM sideways," and, "Y'got what'cha got, pardner."

It's been a while, my friends.

I'm a little bit pissier, a little bit more agitated...I have a crazy hankering for some chocolate.  

Because for her HEALTH, Y'ALL, YOURS TRULY IS GIVING UP HER WINE.   And any liquor she might have had enjoyed.  Which I'm not saying she did.  But hypothetically, if she did.  She isn't doing it anymore.  

I KNOW.  Where's the fun in life?  

Pretty soon I'll be giving up caffeine and I'll respectfully ask for you to just bury me at that time; I'll bore myself to tears and I'll start collecting guinea pigs to entertain myself.

I got the shitty end of the stick with the blood pressure and the crazy genes.  I blame my father's side, mostly.

I blame his side ~ like, 90% wise ~ because....well....it's true.

And my other 10% is because, aside from one aunt, none of his family really has anything to do with us.   And I don't see her trolling the internet and reading this blog.

My mother's family is more internet-savvy.

And I CERTAINLY wouldn't want to make such claims of the state of her family's mental health...there would be a good chance I would be called out.

The last thing I would want to do is answer  to a maternalistically peckish group of alpha females that HAPPEN to be my mother and her sisters.    There were 8 girls and 1 boy in my mothers family; that one boy didn't say a whole lot.

So, alcohol doesn't help a crazy OR cardiovascularly gimpy individual.  So, I made the decision (I can't lie; not all mine) to cut it out.  

And I realized several things:

• I am much nicer after I have had wine.  Much, much nicer.
• I am a better parent after I have had some wine, because I'm like, "sure, why the hell not?" when they ask annoying questions.
• I sleep better if I don't drink wine at night, although I THINK I sleep better after I drink wine.
• I am much more productive the next day because of the better sleep.  And I like that.
• And although I thought that I would lose some weight because of this lifestyle change, I haven't.  It pisses me off.

Along with this decision, other changes have taken place in our house.

Maggie started pre-school.   

She has been going for about two weeks, and although she freaks out initially when I leave, she plays all day and is tired when she gets home.  And HOT DIGGITY DAMN, I found a Montessori that takes 1-3 year olds who aren't potty trained.  

I feel almost like a sane, human being again.   I do believe by kindergarten, I'll be myself again.  A short time, I was just a shell ~ a shadow, if you will ~ of myself.  I'm slowly coming back.   I'm about 50% there.

 I have two days a week where I don't even turn on the radio or television because I just enjoy the silence.  It is a BEAUTIFUL thing.   BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL.

I paid off my car, and we traded Chris' boring, sensible car in on the "Florida" car.  It's a Jeep Wrangler, 2011.  His dream car.    Now he is dreaming about how he can pimp it out. 

I am almost finished painting my house.  I finished the upstairs loft area, now I am going to be moving on to the kids' rooms soon.  

Hell, I even cleaned up my laundry room.   I am even taking fish oil supplements and Alpha Lipoic Acid and a host of other supplements.  

Things are boring, I suppose, but I feel good.   And summer is coming.  Flowers are blooming...and I can FEEL it.     

Floundering Fatties and 12 Miles

So yeah, I took a break. I needed to fall back and re-group. To like, re-assess what I was going to write about, instead of aimless floundering about.

Except...that whole "aimlessly floundering thing?" That would describe, like, three-quarters of my entire life. My favorite word is "whatever." My favorite item of clothing is a tank top with a shelf bra and I go pantiless in my drawstring shorts 99% of my day and elastic waist stretch pants.

It might be surprising to know that one of the most disciplined areas in my life is exercise. (The bummer of this is the LEAST disciplined area of my life is food.)

It began when Wes was about three years old (now nine).

Chris joined a gym in 2005. I was super fat and super pissed, because at that point in our young lives we were super in debt and super broke.

He got into it big time and met his friend every morning at four a.m. to exude testosterone and drink protein shakes.

One day I decided to get my body fat tested. My decision to do this came after a convergence of external and internal factors: I was hen pecked encouraged by my husband to become healthier. I am sure I wanted to use the gym membership to get my money's worth...sort of a "might as well join 'em" mentality.

I also recall numerous bouts of tears about the small assortment of fugly fat clothes in my closet.

After the (predictably, horrifying) body fat test, I mounted the elliptical machine. At five minutes I was, again~predictably~winded.

Five minutes turned into ten, then fifteen, then twenty. Then an hour. I worked at it, and I was running miles, doing classes, and kicking ass. Then because I was so hot with my new bod...I sorta got knocked up again and took a leap (or fifty) backwards.

So, a couple months ago I started the Couch to 5 K Program.

I had always been jogging ~ albeit off and on ~with no real direction. Again ~ SURPRISE! ~ "floundering."

Since beginning C25K, I had been encouraged by a friend of my brother's whom I have never technically met to do the Disney Wine and Dine 1/2 Marathon with her in October. She has no idea what sort of hot, smelly mess I turn into when I jog. She is in for a rude, RUDE awakening.

She pops up on my Facebook page approximately once a week, like a deranged cheerleader, and cheers at me reminding me of the twelve mile suck-a-thon that I may or may not have agreed to. It has only one redeeming quality which is the promise of alcohol at the end.

This event has been in the back of my mind as I completed the C25K program and began the Bridge to 10K this past week.

So, the seemingly floundering fatty on the treadmill at Thriv Fitness in Flagler County, Florida isn't floundering anymore. She is making a statement as of today, folks. She is training for a half marathon this fall.

She is going to stink it up, sweat and bring on the wary looks of onlooking paramedics, as her partner (whom, she has never actually met) glows. Because I have seen pictures of her. And she looks like one of those people who glows.

I'll keep everyone posted on my progress. I ran 3.25 miles yesterday at an astonishingly slow speed. I suppose a glass half full person would say I am 1/4 there...but I thought I was going to have to be carried out of the gym and there was a moment in which I might have seen Jesus ~and my Grandaddy ~ beckoning me home.

(Post note: I just looked at the details of the Wine and Dine and I have several issues with this race. One being the date. Another being the time of day. If I run at any other time of day other than the morning, I burp uncontrollably. If I don't run this particular race, I will run a race. I vow to run a race. <3)

(Post Post Note: That photo is TOTALLY me, in case you wondered. It's a MIRACLE! I have no cellulite and I have a WAISTLINE!!!!)