Date, set, match

We set a date!!

Three months after he proposed, and after checking every venue in the state, we finally found the place we're going to become husband and wife.
So now all the other silly little details can be figured out. Like what to put on the tables, where to seat everyone, which dress I'm going to wear, all that other crap that doesn't matter to anyone else but me.

And then there's the one thing that I will probably stress about until June.
The guest list.

Right now there are 230 people on it, and I have to cut it down to at least 180. Somehow.

#firstworldproblems

Lazed out

Sunday marked the first time that all of my sister's bridesmaids were together - luckily it was also the day of our first dress fittings.
I got in my dress and started to panic. When I had tried it on the first time it was slightly tight, but not too bad. The seamstress even said I didn't need to let anything out. This time though, I as she stood behind me and zipped it up I started feeling tighter and tighter, worse than the first time I had tried it on.
But it zipped. It zipped and it hooked and it stayed where it was and I could breathe OK.
Ida, the seamstress, said that I just need to lay off the salt and I'll be OK. But the more I've started to think about it, the more I've realized how easy it's been to let myself go.
Don't get me wrong, I haven't gained a ton of weight. My pants haven't changed sizes and my belt still buckles in the same place. But my little pouch of a stomach sticks out when I stand.
Problem: I'm still making excuses. I can't walk up the stairs anymore without getting slightly winded (not wicked winded, but plenty enough to worry me) and I say "I must be getting sick or have a sinus problem."
I don't have a sinus problem. I have a lazy problem and I have to get ahold of it.
But again, it's 85 degrees outside and I'm pretty comfortable on my couch. Plus, my iPod isn't charged. How can I run with no music? I'll laze out all over again.
The boyfriend doesn't seem to care that I have a pouch, which is part of the reason I love him so. But he's said we should both start exercising again, so I'm hoping we can figure something out for tomorrow and get me a running partner.
For tonight I think I'll stick with the crunches and some pushups to tone those arms for the wedding.
And a chicken salad for dinner.
Tomorrow I'll go for a run :)
No laze.
The dress fits and we're six weeks away from the nuptials, so it could be much worse.
But it can also be much better.

Tummy for President, 2012

I saw an ad for Nike the other day about how a woman's butt is a wonderful thing, and that 10,000 lunges makes it even more round.

Well I don't need any help in the round butt department.

What I do need help in is the flat stomach department. I want a stomach that you can bounce something off of. Not a quarter - that involves way too much work. But maybe a tennis ball. I'd like to be able to bounce something off my stomach, and if that something already has some bounce to it, yahtzee!

So I figured, if the woman in the Nike ad needed to do 10,000 lunges to make her butt look like mine, maybe I needed to do 10,000 crunches to make my gut look like hers, and therefore excellent in a bathing suit.

Thus, the beginning of a campaign. Tummy 2012!

To do 10,000 crunches, I'll break it down and make it easier for myself: 100 crunches for 100 days.

Today is Day 1.

At 4:00 p.m.

And I just want to go home from work and put on my sweatpants.

And watch this week's episode of "Once Upon a Time" on Demand.

...

And yet, this campaign is going to be far more interesting than the Presidential one this year.

Hotel scales

I've never been one of those girls who worries and panics about her weight. In fact, I used to make fun of girls like that.
But I just landed in Los Angeles and even though I'm still in my flight clothes, I can feel the self consciousness creeping in.
It's been a while since I was last on here, and a lot has changed. I won't get into all of it, but it's been enough to stop my workouts and subsequent weight loss.
Laying on this hotel bed, where there's a scale just inside the front door, I'm reminded of just what I was doing it all for: me.
I started saying things like "I don't have time to run today" and instead of making the time I just went on with my day.
And yeah, it's always packed full of things to do, but I'm back to being the heaviest I've ever been in my life.
I'm tired of this yo-yo crap. I need to make a lifestyle change if I ever want to get anything accomplished.
Damn does that depress me.

Rotten to the core

My sister has moved her wedding date.
There is no longer a rush for me to fit into a tiny sheath of a dress, at least not for another 10 months, but I have a gym membership, and I might as well use it.
I met a friend at the gym yesterday, and she and I worked her circuit together: 30 minutes on the Tredmill (because running on an elliptical actually weakens your core muscles), 30 minutes on a bike climbing Mt. Kilamanjaro, then 30 minutes doing various weight training.
Today I met up with her again and hit the Tredmill, but skipped the rest of the workout in favor of a class called Bikini Bootcamp - otherwise known as Kickboxing from Hell.
I am Sore, emphasis on the capital S. My quads are screaming at me, and every time I attempt to lower myself into a seat I give up a quarter of the way down and just fall.
There's also an inevitable groan.
I know these are just the twinges of a new workout, but damn.
But I like the change. My other workout was getting boring, and at least now I can watch a pre-season Sox game while I run on that blasted machine for 30 damn minutes.
What kills me the most is that in a gym, on a machine, I'm excellent. I run a decent mile and I don't feel the need to stop.
On a trail, however, it feels like every four feet I need to stop and catch my breath.
I did find my new favorite machine, though I suppose it isn't so much a machine as it is a padded piece of metal.
It's a piece that allows you to drape over it, almost like an immersion table for your back. You hook your feet in the bottom and bend at the waist over the edge, allowing your back to stretch out. It's also perfect for doing upside-down crunches, and if you have a medicine ball handy, the workout really burns your core muscles.
(My core muscles suck. If I were ever asked to perform a sobriety test I would fail it -- not because I'd be drunk, but simply because my core muscles are so weak I can't walk a straight line.
It's a rotten core.)
What's awesome is that it burns those muscles above your ovaries, too, so the stronger you make them the less likely they are to cramp during your less-than-favorite time of the month.
It's my newest favorite thing to do at the gym, and it burns and it sucks, but at the end I feel like I've attacked a love handle/spare tire with some serious devotion and any previous workout almost doesn't compare.
I highly suggest adding it to your workout regimen.

•••

In other news, my gal pal Jen is joining a gym near her home and is planning on picking up a schedule that will allow her to work off some of the stress from work.

This girl has not only a highly stressful job, but also a highly stressful commute, so having a release for that tension is not only something she needs to relax, it's also something she needs to get back to herself.

So here's a shout out to my peep and a note of confidence for her - I'm proud of you for taking this step and have utter and complete faith in you.
xo